At last, when he was bursting even his father's coat of mail by the violent compression of his body, Wermund ordered it to be cut away on the left side and patched with a buckle; thinking it mattered little if the side guarded by the shield were exposed to the sword.He also told him to be most careful in fixing on a sword which he could use safely.Several were offered him; but Uffe, grasping the hilt, shattered them one after the other into flinders by shaking them, and not a single blade was of so hard a temper but at the first blow he broke it into many pieces.But the king had a sword of extraordinary sharpness, called "Skrep", which at a single blow of the smiter struck straight through and cleft asunder any obstacle whatsoever; nor would aught be hard enough to check its edge when driven home.The king, loth to leave this for the benefit of posterity, and greatly grudging others the use of it, had buried it deep in the earth, meaning, since he had no hopes of his son's improvement, to debar everyone else from using it.But when he was now asked whether he had a sword worthy of the strength of Uffe, he said that he had one which, if he could recognize the lie of the ground and find what he had consigned long ago to earth, he could offer him as worthy of his bodily strength.Then he bade them lead him into a field, and kept questioning his companions over all the ground.At last he recognised the tokens, found the spot where he had buried the sword, drew it out of its hole, and handed it to his son.Uffe saw it was frail with great age and rusted away; and, not daring to strike with it, asked if he must prove this one also like the rest, declaring that he must try its temper before the battle ought to be fought.Wermund replied that if this sword were shattered by mere brandishing, there was nothing left which could serve for such strength as his.He must, therefore, forbear from the act, whose issue remained so doubtful.
So they repaired to the field of battle as agreed.It is fast encompassed by the waters of the river Eider, which roll between, and forbid any approach save by ship.Hither Uffe went unattended, while the Prince of Saxony was followed by a champion famous for his strength.Dense crowds on either side, eager to see, thronged each winding bank, and all bent their eyes upon this scene.Wermund planted himself on the end of the bridge, determined to perish in the waters if defeat were the lot of his son: he would rather share the fall of his own flesh and blood than behold, with heart full of anguish, the destruction of his own country.Both the warriors assaulted Uffe; but, distrusting his sword, he parried the blows of both with his shield, being determined to wait patiently and see which of the two he must beware of most heedfully, so that he might reach that one at all events with a single stroke of his blade.Wermund, thinking that his feebleness was at fault, that he took the blows so patiently, dragged himself little by little, in his longing for death, forward to the western edge of the bridge, meaning to fling himself down and perish, should all be over with his son.
Fortune shielded the old father, for Uffe told the prince to engage with him more briskly, and to do some deed of prowess worthy of his famous race; lest the lowborn squire should seem braver than the prince.Then, in order to try the bravery of the champion, he bade him not skulk timorously at his master's heels, but requite by noble deeds of combat the trust placed in him by his prince, who had chosen him to be his single partner in the battle.The other complied, and when shame drove him to fight at close quarters, Uffe clove him through with the first stroke of his blade.The sound revived Wermund, who said that he heard the sword of his son, and asked "on what particular part he had dealt the blow?" Then the retainers answered that it had gone through no one limb, but the man's whole frame; whereat Wermund drew back from the precipice and came on the bridge, longing now as passionately to live as he had just wished to die.Then Uffe, wishing to destroy his remaining foe after the fashion of the first, incited the prince with vehement words to offer some sacrifice by way of requital to the shade of the servant slain in his cause.Drawing him by those appeals, and warily noting the right spot to plant his blow, he turned the other edge of his sword to the front, fearing that the thin side of his blade was too frail for his strength, and smote with a piercing stroke through the prince's body.When Wermund heard it, he said that the sound of his sword "Skrep" had reached his ear for the second time.Then, when the judges announced that his son had killed both enemies, he burst into tears from excess of joy.Thus gladness bedewed the cheeks which sorrow could not moisten.So while the Saxons, sad and shamefaced, bore their champions to burial with bitter shame, the Danes welcomed Uffe and bounded for joy.Then no more was heard of the disgrace of the murder of Athisl, and there was an end of the taunts of the Saxons.
Thus the realm of Saxony was transferred to the Danes, and Uffe, after his father, undertook its government; and he, who had not been thought equal to administering a single kingdom properly, was now appointed to manage both.Most men have called him Olaf, and he has won the name of "the Gentle" for his forbearing spirit.His later deeds, lost in antiquity, have lacked formal record.But it may well be supposed that when their beginnings were so notable, their sequel was glorious.I am so brief in considering his doings, because the lustre of the famous men of our nation has been lost to memory and praise by the lack of writings.But if by good luck our land had in old time been endowed with the Latin tongue, there would have been countless volumes to read of the exploits of the Danes.
