Halting at this place, he perceived not only one troop of horse, as it had been described to him, but three powerful bands, who were now drawing together, though whether they approached him as friends or foes he was yet ignorant. That they were bold and experienced warriors he could have no doubt; for their movements were precise, and their accoutrements splendid; and for the same reason he was convinced that they were not Finlanders, but Christian Swedes. While he was reflecting on this he perceived coming up the hill towards him a powerful roan horse, bearing a knight of tall slender figure with a heavy rattling harness, and a great plume of black horse-hair on his helmet, which waved wildly in the wind. “Who is there?” cried the stranger, at the same time throwing back his visor, and revealing a fair youthful countenance and handsome features. “A Norman,” answered Sir Otto, “and a friend to the Swedish cause.” “One more question,” said the stranger. “Art thou for Odin, or for Christ?” “Fy on the sinful question!” answered Sir Otto. “Is not Norway converted, and do you believe that we are apostates from the true faith?” Hereupon the Swedish knight raised his javelin, and poised it in his hand. “Beware then,” cried he; “for know that we are the firm adherents of the great Odin, and supporters of the ancient faith and customs of our forefathers; and, therefore, there is not a man in your squadron who shall find his way to the Christian army.” “Now then it is my turn to bid thee beware, thou pagan!” answered Sir Otto, lifting his spear, and both young knights having closed their visors, rode their horses round and round, each watching his opportunity for an attack. Accordingly it was not long ere Sir Otto perceived his adversary’s arm upraised, and in the same moment the heavy javelin came thundering on his head, so that he tottered and shook from the violence of the blow, and could scarcely bear the lively motion of his light-brown steed. But the eagle’s visor had been proof against the javelin; and the horse’s rapid movements rendered it impossible for the Swede to reach Sir Otto with his sword, until such time as the knight had been able to regain his place firmly in the saddle, and to poise his spear, which he hurled with such fury at his adversary, that it went resistlessly through his helmet; and when Sir Otto rode up, intending to attack him, also sword in hand, he found that this was needless; for the Swedish knight fell in a moment powerless on the earth, and his roan horse, wildly affrighted, broke away, and ran through the thickets into the valley. The conqueror went up mournfully to his fallen foe, and looked with deep sorrow on his countenance, already pale and fixed in death, for the spear had struck deep into his forehead.