Only that Cyneward was yet with me, and that out of the dimness came against us Jomsburgers clad in outlandish armour, and with shouts to strange gods as they fell on me.
"Hai, Wainomoinen! Swantewit, ho!" Then I cast away my shield, for I grew weary, and taking both hands to my axe, fought with a dull rage that I should have fallen, and that there were so many against me.

And all alone we two seemed to fight by reason of the fog, though I heard the shouts of our crew to right and left unceasingly.
Then I felled a man, and one leapt back into mist and was gone, and a giant shape rose up against me out of the thickness, towering alone, and at this I smote fiercely.

Yet it was not mail or hardened deerskin that I smote, but solid timber, and I could not free my axe again, so strongly had I smitten.
It was the high stem head of the vessel.

For I and my men had cleared away the foe from amidships to bows, and still the noise of fight went on behind us, while the fog was thick as ever.
Then Cyneward leaned against the stem head and laughed.
"Pity so good a stroke was wasted on timber, master," he said.
"Pull it out for me," I answered, "my arm is tired." For now I began to know that my left shoulder was not yet so strong as once.
He tugged at the axe and freed it, not without trouble.
"What now ?" said one of the men.
But a great shout came from aft, and then a silence that seemed strange.

We were still, to hear what we might, and I think that others listened for us.
"Surely we have cleared the ship ?" I said.