moved, but not until the attempt had excited much attention at Shanghai and in Japan. The Russians returned the kind attentions of the British Admiral by circulating a report that the English had wished to form a settlement at Tsou-sima, but had been frustrated by the vigilance of the Russians.
Such is the substance of our most recent information respecting the extreme outposts of the Russian Empire in the East.
THE HAIL-STORM; OR, THE DEATH OF BUI.
(TRANSLATED FROM THE ANCIENT NORSE.)
Sigvald Earl of Jomsborg, in Vindland, chieftain of the Jomsvikingar, a band of daring pirates, makes a vow to drive Hakon Earl of Norway out of his dominions, and accordingly sets sail for that country with a numerous fleet. Hakon, hearing of his coming, collects what men and vessels he can, and meets him at Horunga Bay, where a desperate combat ensues. After some time, Hakon, seeing that he is on the point of being vanquished, goes on shore, and invokes the assistance of two female demons, Thorgerdr and Yrpr, to whom he sacrifices his son Erling, a beautiful boy, seven years old. The fiends forthwith raise a storm of hail and lightning against the Jomsvikingar, so dreadful that Sigvald and the greater part of his people take to flight. His two lieutenants, however, Bui hin Digri and Vagn Akason, disdain to fly, and remain with their ships and crews. The ship of Bui is speedily boarded by Eirik, son of Earl Hakon. Bui fights till his hands are chopped off, whereupon he seizes two chests of gold with his bloody stumps, and leaps into the sea, crying, “Overboard now, all Bui’s lads!” The greater part of those of his people who remain alive jump in after him, and are drowned; the rest are slain. Eirik then boards the ship of Vagn, which, after much hard fighting, he captures, taking Vagn and about thirty of his men prisoners, whom he carries ashore.
THE HAIL-STORM; OR, THE DEATH OF BUI.
All eager to sail,
Swords, lances, and mail,
To the sea’s sounding shore
The speedy lads bore.
A boisterous breeze
Blew swift o’er the seas;
The sea-coursers bound
O’er the crabs’ playing-ground;
Back, back from the bows
The brine which uprose,
For strong was the swell,
In snowy flakes fell.
The goodly barques brought
The brave men, well taught
To slay chief and churl,
To the coast of the Earl;
Wide Norway receiv’d—
Ye ravens, long griev’d
With famine, feast now—
Full many a ship’s prow.
They hoist the war mark—
On Hamdis’s sark[1]
Comes down horrid hail—
The heroes don’t quail;
Stones, arrows, and darts
Dealt death in all parts;
The bucklers were broke
Beneath the blade’s stroke.
They’re hewing more hard:
Heads, hands overboard
Fell down in the gulf,
To gorge the grim wolf.
Stout hands the hosts have.
How fierce the swords wave!
In brains of the brave
How busy the glaive!
The fine fellows die,
From the string arrows fly,
From off the shield’s sky
The sparkles spring high.
How harsh yell the hordes
Of hawks! The sharp swords,
Swift swung, sever thighs,
Stones slung strike out eyes;
The steely plates sing,
Asunder helms spring,
On foreheads renown’d;
No rest the wrists found.
Now forward through foes,
Felling fierce, Buei goes;
The grim gallows-swan[2]
Is glad at what’s done.
A storm!—hail doth sound,
Each stone weighs a pound;
From bruis’d, battered brows,
Blood down the deck flows;
What carnage! still wide
The war-flag did ride,
And plied bill and brand
The bold Viking band.
From each finger end,
Enrag’d now did send
Red shafts, the witch wild,
The welkin’s weird child;
From stout hero hearts
All hope now departs,
For who can withstand
Witch, whirlwind, and brand?
Adown the ship’s side
Sprang into the tide
Bold Buei, whose blade
Black ravens oft fed,
Two big chests he bore,
Both fill’d with gold ore;
Neath each arm was one:
Wight braver was none.
Still Waygn fought amain,
But valour was vain;
For eager on board
Earl Eirik’s crew pour’d:
Of him the boy bold,
Bestower of gold,
With slaughter full stern,
The stout ship they earn.
