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FRITHIOF’S SAGA 107
Of Sote, with helm and anchor and mast; and high by the
tiller
Sat there a terrible form; he was clad in a fiery mantle;
Moodily glaring sat he, and scrubbed his blood-spotted
weapon
Vainly; the stains remained, and all the wealth he had
stolen
Round in the grave was heaped; the ring on his arm he
was wearing.
"Come," whispered Bele, "let’s enter and fight with this
terrible being,
Two men against a fiery fiend." Half angry swore
Thor-sten—
"One against one our fathers fought, and alone will I
combat."
Long contended the twain for the right of the perilous
conflict,
Which should essay it the first; till Bele, taking his
helmet,
Shuffled for each within it a lot, and soon by the
starlight
Thorsten discovered his own; so he smote on the door
with his steel lance.
Open flew bolt and bar; he descended. When any one asked
him
What he had seen in the gloomy pit, he was silent, and
shuddered.
Bele first heard a song, like the spell of witchcraft it sounded;
Then rose a loud-clashing noise, like the crossing of
weapons it sounded;
Lastly, a terrible cry, which was hushed; then out darted
Thorsten,
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