As his mighty strength neared exhaustion, Beowulf found the hall at the depth of the abyss, and there saw Grendel's mother lying in wait for him. With her fierce claws she grappled him and dragged him into her dismal water palace whose dark walls oozed with the slime of ages. Recovering his breath, and fierce at the assault, Beowulf swung his heavy knife and brought it down on the sea wolf's head. Never before had Hrunting failed him, but now the hard skull of Grendel's mother turned the biting edge of the forged steel, and the blow twisted the blade as though it were soft wire. Flinging aside his useless knife, Beowulf clutched the sea woman with the mighty grip that had slain her son, and the struggle for mastery began. More than once was Beowulf pushed nigh to exhaustion, but every time he recovered himself and escaped from the deadly grasp of the powerful fiend who strove to take his life. As he grew weaker, Grendel's mother seized her russet-bladed knife and with a mighty blow drove it straight at the heart of Beowulf. Once again his trusty shirt of mail turned the blade, and by a last convulsive effort he regained his feet. As he rose from his dangerous position he saw glittering in his sight as it hung in the walls of water, the hilt of a mighty sword, which was made for giants, and which no man on earth but Beowulf could wield. Little he knew of its magic power, but he seized it in both hands, and swinging it about his head in mighty curves, struck full at the head of the monster. Savage was the blow, more mighty than human being ever struck before, and the keen edge of the sword crashed through the brazen mail, cleft the neck of the sea wolf, and felled her dead upon the floor. From her neck spurted hot blood which melted the blade and burned it away as frost wreathes are melted by the sun. In his hand remained only the carven hilt. On the shore of the dark lake the Danes waited anxiously for the reappearance of Beowulf, and when blood came welling up through the dark waters they felt their champion had met his fate, and returning to Heorot, they sat down to mourn in the great mead-hall. Then among them strode Beowulf, carrying in one hand the great head of the sea woman and in the other the blistered hilt of the sword, snake- shaped, carven with the legend of its forging. Beowulf related the story of his combat and added, "When I saw that Grendel's mother was dead I seized her head and swam upward again through the heaving waters, bearing the heavy burden with me; and as I landed on the shore of the lake I saw its waters dry behind me, and bright meadows with beautiful flowers take their place. The trees themselves put on new robes of green, and peace and gladness settled over all. God and my strong right hand prospered me, and here I show the sword with which the giants of old defied the eternal God, The enemies of God are overcome, and here in Heorot may Hrothgar and his counselors dwell in peace."