959.
The bear, through all the shouting, into the kitchen ramp’d:
Hey, how the frighted scullions from round the fire decamp’d!
The kettles toppled over, the burning sticks were drown’d:
Hey, what a store of victuals lay in the ashes round!
960.
Quick from their seats upsprang they, the masters and the men.
The bear began a-growling: the king gave orders then
To let loose all the hound-pack, that in their leashes lay.
Had it herewith but ended that were a merry day!
961.
With bows and spears provided they stay’d no longer there,
But off the swift ones started to follow up the bear.
Yet no one shot: so closely the dogs were thronging round.
The shouting of the people made hill and dale resound.
962.
With all the pack behind him the bear began to race,
But, save Kriemhilda’s husband, no one could match its pace.
He quickly ran upon it, and with a sword-stroke slew.
Then to the camp-fire, slaughter’d, the grisly brute they drew.
963.
And all who saw, were saying he was a mighty man.
The hunters proud were summon’d, and then the feast began.
Upon a fair green meadow, a goodly crowd they sate;
Ha, ’twas a royal banquet these haughty hunters ate!
964.
The cupbearers still came not, who were the wine to bring,—
No heroes ever better deserved such offering;
Had there not been in secret such treacherous intent,
Then free had been those warriors of all disparagement.
