“Now here are vikings,” said Eric to Skallagrim.

“Now here is Ospakar Blacktooth,” answered Skallagrim, “for well I know that raven banner of his.  This is a good voyage, for we must seek but a little while before we come to fighting.”

Eric bade the men lay on their oars, and spoke: 

“Before us is Ospakar Blacktooth in two great dragons, and he is here to cut us off.  Now two choices are left to us:  one is to bout ship and run before him, and the other to row on and give him battle.  What say ye, comrades?”

Hall of Lithdale, the mate, answered, saying: 

“Let us go back, lest we die.  The odds are too great, Eric.”

But a man among the crew cried out, “When thou didst go on holmgang at Thingvalla, Eric, Ospakar’s two chosen champions stood before thee, yet at Whitefire’s flash they skurried through the water like startled ducks.  It was an omen, for so shall his great ships fly when we swoop on them.”  Then the others shouted: 

“Ay, ay!  Never let it be said that we fled from Ospakar—­fie on thy woman’s talk, Hall!”

“Then we are all of one mind, save Hall only,” said Eric.  “Let us put Ospakar to the proof.”  And while men shouted “Yea!” he turned to speak with Skallagrim.  The Baresark was gone, for, wasting no breath in words, already he was fixing the long shields on the bulwark rail.

The men busked on their harness and made them fit for fight, and, when all was ready, Eric mounted the poop, and with him Skallagrim, and bade the rowers give way.  The Gudruda leapt forward and rushed on towards Ospakar’s ships.  Now they saw that these were bound together with a cable and yet they must go betwixt them.

Eric ran forward to the prow, and with him Skallagrim, and called aloud to a great man who stood upon the ship to starboard, wearing a black helm with raven’s wings: 

“Who art thou that bars the sea against me?”

“I am named Ospakar Blacktooth,” answered the great man.

“And what must we lose at thy hands, Ospakar?”

“But one thing—­your lives!” answered Blacktooth.

“Thrice have we stood face to face, Ospakar,” said Eric, “and it seems that hitherto thou hast won no great glory.  Now it shall be proved if thy luck has bettered.”

“Art yet healed, lord, of that prick in the shoulder which thou camest by on Horse-Head Heights?” roared Skallagrim.

For answer, Ospakar seized a spear and hurled it straight at Eric, and it had been his death had he not caught it in his hand as it flew.  Then he cast it back, and that so mightily that it sped right through the shield of Ospakar and was the bane of a man who stood beside him.