And one must die three times, before he come to repose.
II
I see the wild-boar that comes out of the wood; he drinks very much, and he has a wounded foot.
His jaws are drooping, blood-covered, and his bristles are whitened with age.
He is followed by his tribe, grunting from hunger.[5]
The sea-horse[6] comes to meet him; he makes the river banks tremble in horror.
He is as white as the brilliant snow; he has silver horns on his forehead.
The water boils under him from the thunder-fire of his nostrils.
Other sea-horses surround him, close packed as herbs by a swamp.
“Hold fast! hold fast! sea-horse; hit him on the head; hit hard, hit!