"Shield shall ye have there And spears ashen-shafted, Helms ruddy with gold, And hosts of the Huns; Saddle-gear silver gilt, Shirts red as blood, The hedge of the warwife, And horses bit-griping. "And he saith he will give you Gnitaheath widespread, And whistling spears And prows well-gilded, Might wealth With the stead of Danpi, And that noble wood Men name the Murkwood." Then Gunnar turned head And spake unto Hogni: "What rede from thee, high one, Since such things we hear? No gold know I On Gnitaheath, That we for our parts Have not portion as great. "Seven halls we have Fulfilled of swords, And hilts of gold Each sword there has; My horse is the best, My blade is the keenest; Fair my bow o'er the bench is, Gleams my byrny with gold; Brightest helm, brightest shield, From Kiar's dwelling ere brought-- Better all things I have Than all things of the Huns." HOGNI SAID: "What mind has our sister That a ring she hath sent us In weed of wolves clad? Bids she not to be wary? For a wolf's hair I found The fair ring wreathed about; Wolf beset shall the way be If we wend on this errand." No sons whetted Gunnar, Nor none of his kin, Nor learned men nor wise men, Nor such as were mighty. Then spake Gunnar E'en as a king should speak, Glorious in mead-hall From great heart and high: "Rise up now, Fiornir, Forth down the benches Let the gold-cups of great ones Pass in hands of my good-men! Well shall we drink wine, Draughts dear to our hearts, Though the last of all feasts In our fair house this be! "For the wolves shall rule O'er the wealth of the Niblungs, With the pine-woods' wardens In Gunnar perish: And the black-felled bears With fierce teeth shall bite For the glee of the dog kind, If again comes not Gunnar." Then good men never shamed, Greeting aloud, Led the great king of men From the garth of his home; And cried the fair son Of Hogni the king: "Fare happy, O Lords, Whereso your hearts lead you!" Then the bold knights Let their bit-griping steeds Wend swift o'er the fells, Tread the murk-wood unknown, All the Hunwood was shaking As the hardy ones fared there; O'er the green meads they urged Their steeds shy of the goad. Then Atli's land saw they; Great towers and strong, And the bold men of Bikki, Aloft on the burg: The Southland folks' hall Set with benches about, Dight with bucklers well bounden, And bright white shining shields.