woods, is now land ready for the plough, and fringed with a scanty scrub.  And, in order that when they got out into the plain they might not lack the shelter of trees, he told them to cut and carry branches.  Also, that nothing might burden their rapid march, he bade them cast away some of their clothes, as well as their scabbards; and carry their swords naked.  In memory of this event he left the mountain and the ford a perpetual name.  Thus by his night march he eluded two pickets of sentries; but when he came upon the third, a scout, observing the marvellous event, went to the sleeping-room of Sigar, saying that he brought news of a portentous thing; for he saw leaves and shrubs like men walking.  Then the king asked him how far off was the advancing forest; and when he heard that it was near, he added that this prodigy boded his own death.  Hence the marsh where the shrubs were cut down was styled in common parlance Deadly Marsh.  Therefore, fearing the narrow passages, he left the town, and went to a level spot which was more open, there to meet the enemy in battle.  Sigar fought unsuccessfully, and was crushed and slain at the spot that is called in common speech Walbrunna, but in Latin the Spring of Corpses or Carnage.  Then Hakon used his conquest to cruel purpose, and followed up his good fortune so wickedly, that he lusted for an indiscriminate massacre, and thought no forbearance should be shown to rank or sex.  Nor did he yield to any regard for compassion or shame, but stained his sword in the blood of women, and attacked mothers and children in one general and ruthless slaughter.

Siwald, the son of Sigar, had thus far stayed under his father’s roof.  But when he heard of this, he mustered an army in order to have his vengeance.  So Hakon, alarmed at the gathering of such numbers, went back with a third of his army to his fleet at Herwig, and planned to depart by sea.  But his colleague, Hakon, surnamed the Proud, thought that he ought himself to feel more confidence at the late victory than fear at the absence of Hakon; and, preferring death to flight, tried to defend the remainder of the army.  So he drew back his camp for a little, and for a long time waited near the town of Axelsted, for the arrival of the fleet, blaming his friends for their tardy coming.  For the fleet that had been sent into the river had not yet come to anchor in the appointed harbour.  Now the killing of Sigar and the love of Siwald were stirring the temper of the people one and all, so that both sexes devoted themselves to war, and you would have thought that the battle did not lack the aid of women.

On the morrow Hakon and Siwald met in an encounter and fought two whole days.  The combat was most frightful; both generals fell; and victory graced the remnants of the Danes.  But, in the night after the battle, the fleet, having penetrated the Susa, reached the appointed haven.  It was once possible to row along this river; but its bed is now choked with solid substances, and is so narrowed by its straits that few vessels can get in, being prevented by its sluggishness and contractedness.  At daybreak, when the sailors saw the corpses of their friends, they heaped up, in order to bury the general, a barrow of notable size, which is famous to this day, and is commonly named Hakon’s Howe.