Presently a halt was called, and the weary army lay down to snatch a few hours' sleep beneath the moon.
They were on foot again by daybreak; and at length they came face to face with their foes.
Near Stamford Bridge on the river Derwent, the Norwegian army was drawn up in a great circle, with the sunbeams glinting upon helmets and spear-points. High overhead floated the royal standard, a raven with outstretched wings, called by the Norwegians the land-waster.
Riding at a short distance from the army was a knight in a bright blue mantle and a shining helmet.
'Who is that man?' asked Harold of one of his captains.
'It is the King of Norway,' replied the captain.
Harold looked at the rider again.
'He is a tall and stately king,' he said; 'but his end is near.'
Then he looked again at the Norwegians, all drawn up in battle array; and he thought of his brother, somewhere among their ranks; and he wondered whether it was too late to try to make peace.
He rode out from his army until he was half-way between the two forces; and then he shouted, 'Is Tostig the son of Godwin here?'