Then raising himself, he continued: “Seest thou, Ivar, from a high tree a raven flying from the east? An eagle follows; that is the last eagle to which I give prey, and it will taste my blood. It is my wish that thou carry my helmet and chain-armor into Yngvi’s hall. The heart of the daughter of the Hersir of Svithjod will be moved deeply when she sees my chain-armor cut upon the breast. I behold the daughters of Yngvi in Upsalir. How beautiful they look! Hjalmar will not look again upon them, neither will he cheer with ale and speeches the warriors who sit in Yngvi’s hall.”
Then came another pause, for Hjalmar was suffering intensely from his wounds, but he had made a vow never to shriek from pain. Finally he said to his foster-brothers: “Two of you must go and hew a stone coffin for me, while another shall sit by my side, and write upon wooden tablets that song which I will compose about my deeds in life.”
Then he began to dictate the song, and Sigmund carved it, and the nearer the poem drew to its end, the more the life of Hjalmar ebbed away. Then came a deep silence, his voice had ceased. He was dead!
Then Ivar said solemnly: “It will be told far and wide that few nobler and more famous men have ever lived than Hjalmar Gudbrandson of Engel.”
After the words of Ivar, the foster-brothers looked at each other without saying a word, but all felt the great and irreparable loss they had sustained. They placed the berserks in a heap, near the sea, and piled boughs upon them. They put with them their weapons and clothing, divesting them of nothing. They covered the pile with turf, and cast earth over it, thus raising a great mound. They then went out to their ships, took ashore every one who had fallen, and there threw up another mound over them.
After the burial of the berserks, the three foster-brothers carried the body of Hjalmar on one of their ships, and sailed to Svithjod. They landed not far from Upsalir. Ivar carried Hjalmar on his back, followed by Sigurd and Sigmund, and then laid down their beloved dead foster-brother at the door of the great hall, chanting, as they walked there, the praises and great deeds of valor of Hjalmar.
After entering the hall, they marched towards the high seat where Yngvi was seated, and then put down on the floor and in front of him Hjalmar’s pierced armor, his sword, helmet, and sundered shield. These tokens told, without words, of the death of Hjalmar the Brave.
Ivar and his two foster-brothers then went to the bower of Astrid. She was seated on a chair, and was embroidering a cloak for Hjalmar, and thinking of him. Then Ivar sang again the great and valorous deeds Hjalmar had accomplished during his life, and said: “I have to tell thee, Astrid, a sad tale;” and he gave her the ring which she had given to Hjalmar before they parted, and told of the greetings sent her by him before he expired.
Astrid took the ring, looked at it, and knew that Hjalmar was dead. She uttered not a word; her face changed color and turned very pale. She sank back lifeless into her chair. She did not stir for so long that her attendants became alarmed. Bending over her, they saw that she was dead.