“How many men have lost their lives here?” asks Geirmund.

“Here have died,” says Flosi, “Njal and Bergthora and all their sons, Thord Kari’s son, Kari Solmund’s son, but besides these we cannot say for a surety, because we know not their names.”

“Thou tellest him now dead,” said Geirmund, “with whom we have gossipped this morning.”

“Who is that?” says Flosi.

“We two,” says Geirmund, “I and my neighbour Bard, met Kari Solmund’s son, and Bard gave him his horse, and his hair and his upper clothes were burned off him.”

“Had he any weapons?” asks Flosi.

“He had the sword ‘Life-luller,’” says Geirmund, “and one edge of it was blue with fire, and Bard and I said that it must have become soft, but he answered thus, that he would harden it in the blood of the sons of Sigfus or the other Burners.”

“What said he of Skarphedinn?” said Flosi.

“He said both he and Grim were alive,” answers Geirmund, “when they parted; but he said that now they must be dead.”

“Thou hast told us a tale,” said Flosi, “which bodes us no idle peace, for that man hath now got away who comes next to Gunnar of Lithend in all things; and now, ye sons of Sigfus, and ye other Burners, know this, that such a great blood feud, and hue and cry will be made about this burning, that it will make many a man headless, but some will lose all their goods.  Now I doubt much whether any man of you, ye sons of Sigfus, will dare to stay in his house; and that is not to be wondered at; and so I will bid you all to come and stay with me in the east, and let us all share one fate.”

They thanked him for his offer, and said they would be glad to take it.

Then Modolf Kettle’s son sang a song.

  But one prop of Njal’s house liveth,
  All the rest inside are burnt,
  All but one,—­those bounteous spenders,
  Sigfus’ stalwart sons wrought this;
  Son of Gollnir[72] now is glutted
  Vengeance for brave Hauskuld’s death,
  Brisk flew fire through thy dwelling,
  Bright flames blazed above thy roof.

“We shall have to boast of something else than that Njal has been burnt in his house,” says Flosi, “for there is no glory in that.”

Then he went up on the gable, and Glum Hilldir’s son, and some other men.  Then Glum said, “Is Skarphedinn dead, indeed?” But the others said he must have been dead long ago.

The fire sometimes blazed up fitfully and sometimes burned low, and then they heard down in the fire beneath them that this song was sung—­

  Deep, I ween, ye Ogre offspring! 
  Devilish brood of giant birth,
  Would ye groan with gloomy visage
  Had the fight gone to my mind;
  But my very soul it gladdens
  That my friends[73] who now boast high,
  Wrought not this foul deed, their glory,
  Save with footsteps filled with gore.

“Can Skarphedinn, think ye, have sung this song dead or alive?” said Grani Gunnar’s son.