"Now," thought Wulnoth to himself, "I am as far off as ever, for this sea I must cross, and yet I cannot get ship to bear me."
And down to the foot of the dark cliffs he went, gazing across the water, and pondering upon how he might cross it; and while he stood there, yet once again there came he who had called himself Wulnoth, and he stood and mocked at him and cried—
"So, Wanderer, thou hast got thus far, and now thou art stopped. Now thou shalt wrestle with me yet once again, and I will carry thee back to the land from which thou hast journeyed and there help thee to make a name for thyself."
Then did Wulnoth utter a cry of anger, and he seized this man whom he before had overthrown, and he said—
"Now am I weary of thy gibing and thy worry, thou who callest thyself by my name, and whom I have already overthrown more than once. Now we will indeed make an end, and if there is no other way, then will I swim this water, but thou shalt swim it with me."
And once again they struggled there on the weed-strewn shore, and this time Wulnoth had easy mastery—for each time they had fought he had grown the stronger and the other had become weaker, and now he soon vanquished him, and he cried—
"Now thou and I will swim together, and if we perish then it is done with."
But to this the other answered, crying in terror—
"Not yet, Wanderer! Not yet! I will show thee a better way."