“A bear! a bear!” shouted they in delight, laughing at the likeness between Hereward’s attitude, and that of a bear waddling off on his hind legs with his prey in his arms.
“He should have killed his bullock outright before he went to carry him. Look there!”
And the knight, awaking from his swoon, struggled violently (says Leofric) to escape.
But Hereward, though the smaller, was the stronger man; and crushing him in his arms, walked on steadily.
“Knights, to the rescue! Hoibricht is taken!” shouted they of Guisnes, galloping towards him.
“A bear! a bear! To me, Biornssons! To me, Vikings all!” shouted Hereward. And the Danes leapt up, and ran toward him, axe in hand.
The châtelain’s knights rode up likewise; and so it befell, that Hereward carried his prisoner safe into camp.
“And who are you, gallant knight?” asked he of his prisoner.
“Hoibricht, nephew of Eustace, Count of Guisnes.”
“So I suppose you will be ransomed. Till then—Armorer!”