Rode up the river shore
A-tightening of their shield-straps
Till they could tighten them no more.
92. All the sons of Arngrim
Rode through the plain so green;
A league and a league you could hear on the stones
The clang of their spears so keen.
93. All the sons of Arngrim,
Angry were they in mood.
Little recked they for weapons,