The Knight of Trautwangen and his small band of Swedish supporters (for his Normans were fighting on horseback on the plain beneath,) now defended themselves valiantly, both against the attacks that were made from the rocky cave, and those from the narrow foot-path. But their number was already lessened by the departure of those to whom Sir Otto had given in charge the wounded man; and it was easy to perceive, both by the increasing force of the enemy, and the weariness of the hitherto victorious Christians, that the moment drew near when the latter would be over-matched and conquered. It happened at last, that one of their pagan adversaries stretched out a long pole, with a banner, on which there was painted a frightful figure of a dragon, or some such monster, representing one of their idols. “Onwards, onwards!” cried he, “brave Finlanders! Now you behold, indeed, that the gods are with you, and are leading you on to victory!” The mob accordingly came forwards with loud shouts of rejoicing, and anticipated triumph; but Sir Otto, throwing back his shield over his left shoulder, seized his sword with both hands, and with the raging energy of despair, cut his way towards this hateful banner. Where-ever his blows now fell they inflicted deadly wounds. In a few moments he grappled with the hideous standard, and tore it with giant-strength from the bearer’s hands,--then threw it with vehemence down the rocky cliffs, calling aloud, “Lo! your gods are fallen into the abyss to which they properly belong! Try, madmen as you are, what you can do alone, and without their assistance!” For a moment the pagans gazed at him with surprise and terror; but soon afterwards their howls of wrath and revenge became wilder and wilder, and their advance more determined. Sir Otto then summoned up his whole strength, and, according to the custom of the Normans, which he had now fully learned, he began to sing furiously a battle-song, in the chorus of which he was joined by all his adherents; and, as if keeping time to the measure of the ballad, they cut and thrust, right and left, with tenfold vehemence and energy, though most of them were now wounded and covered with blood, while their visages were deadly pale from the fatigue of this long battle.