“But ere we part,” red Cairber said, In accents rude and strange, “Brown Oscar, come from Albin land, Our spear-shafts we exchange.” “Why so exchange,” young Oscar said, With calmly moving lips, “Thou red-haired Cairber, why exchange, Chief of the port of ships?” “Not much for me—not much for me,” The frowning Cairber said, “Though every warrior in your isles To me a tribute paid.” “Whatever, Cairber, thou shouldst ask Of gold or precious thing, All that without disgrace might be Asked by a manly King, “Were thine at once; but this exchange Of shafts without the heads, With ruthless scorn tears all the garb Of kindness into shreds. “Hadst thou not known, thou coward prince, That Fingal is not by, Thou hadst not dared to speak such words,— Less loud would be thy cry.” “Though Fingal and thy father both Were here, with sword in hand, I would have asked, and I should have, All that I now demand.” “If Fingal and my father both Were here, with sword in hand, Thou wouldst not, if they chose, retain One foot of Erin land.” “I make a vow,” quoth Cairber Red, “Away to drive the deer From Albin’s sea-girt hills, and bring The spoil to Erin here.” “I make a vow—a vow ’gainst that,” Quoth Oscar. “With this spear I’ll drive thee back from Albin’s hills To Erin mount and mere.” Then Cairber roared, “I make a vow; This spear of might possessed, Ere that, fair Oscar, thou shalt see, I’ll plant beneath thy breast.” “A vow! a vow!” cried Oscar fierce, “Ere that shall happen me, Red Cairber! in thy forehead proud This spear shall planted be!” Cold fear and rage alternately The other warriors shook, When they had heard the dreadful vows Both heroes undertook. They saw fierce gloom was gathering On Cairber’s knitted brows; They marked how like the breaking storm The wrath of Oscar rose. ’Twas then a bard upon his harp, Gentle as evening’s breath, Poured forth the numbers that presage A mighty hero’s death. Then Oscar seized with rage his arms, And cast a glance around, To see where stood his Albin chiefs— The few that there were found. Great was the host of Cairber there; But Oscar’s friends were few, Still they were brave and undismayed, And well their arms they knew. The strife began. We heard the shouts That came to us afar, And all the din of deadly clash From the dread scene of war. Then up we rose and hastened To join the widespread fight; Each joined the battle as he reached With furious delight.