EINAR THE ARCHER. 
355 
arrow hits the tiller-end, just over the Earl’s head, and 
buries itself up to the shaft in the wood. “ Who shot 
that bolt?” says the Jarl. Another flies between his 
hand and side, and enters the stuffing of the chiefs 
stool. Then, said the Jarl to a man named Fin, 
“ Shoot that tall archer by the mast!” Fin shoots; 
the arrow hits the middle of Einar’s bow as he is in 
the act of drawing it, and the bow is split in two. 
“ What is that,” cried King Olaf, “ that broke with 
such a noise ? ” 
“ Norway , King, from thy hands ! ” cried Einar. 
“No! not so much as that,” says the King; “ take 
my bow, and shoot,”—flinging the bow to him. 
Einar took the bow, and drew it over the head of 
the arrow. “ Too weak, too weak,” said he, “ for the 
bow of a mighty King !” and throwing the bow aside, 
“ he took sword and buckler, and fought valiantly.” 
But Olaf’s hour is come. Many slain lie around 
him: many that have fallen by his hand, more that 
have fallen at his side. The thinned ranks on board 
the “ Iron Beard ” are constantly replenished by fresh 
combatants from other vessels, even by the Swedes and 
soft Danes, now “ strong, upon the stronger side,”-—while 
A A 2 
