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Then the men dashed down from above toward the gigantic bull,
with a loud hunting-cry, shooting their arrows, and casting their spears: the
comrades pressed down from the valley from the heights, and they killed many
of the herd; only the mighty bull, chief of the herd, broke through to a more
open space. Then Ingo threw a heavy spear at him: a stream of blood followed
the blow. "He has it!" cried out Ingo, and was answered by loud hurrahs.
But the forest giant escaped to the heights. Ingo bounded after him spearless,
swinging his knife. Again the beast broke down into a deep valley, dragging
the spear; and while Ingo rushed forward along the height, in order to get before
him on the ground free from snow, he heard amidst the cry of the hounds a hunting-call
and the sound of the horn; and when he plunged into the valley, he found the
bull on the ground, with Theodulf's spear in its body. The man was standing
on the animal, and blew the cry of victory. "The game is mine, according
to forest right," exclaimed Ingo, and sprang upon the body of the fallen
animal; "my spear gave him the death-blow."
The two men stood over the prize opposite each other, and hot
hatred flashed from their eyes. "Mine is the weapon, and mine the bull,"
cried Theodulf. Then Ingo tore the spear of the other out of the body of the
bull, and flung it far away, so that it remained hanging in the branches of
a pine tree. The Thuringian gnashed his teeth with rage; for one moment he appeared
as if he would rush against Ingo, and strike him with his fists, but the haughty
bearing of the other daunted him; he sprang back, and incited the hounds against
him. The raging beasts rushed howling on the Hero. In vain did Hildebrand cry:
"Woe is me!" Ingo struck down the fiercest with his knife; the Vandals
sprang to their King's side to save him from his danger, and drove their spears
into the bodies of the hounds. "The chase is over," cried out Berthar,
in a tone of command; "now another begins: the scoundrel who set the hounds
on our King shall not see another sun. Today we have been hound-slayers, as
thou calledst us, and thou art the last hound we shall slay." He raised
his ax for the throw, but Ingo seized his arm with iron grasp. "Let no
one dare to touch him; the man belongs to my sword. But thou, Hildebrand, appoint
the judges according to forest laws, and let there be a decision on my rights,
on the spot where lies the bloody track and slain beast."
Each band chose a man, and these two a third. The judges examined
the wound, and followed the death-track up to the place where Ingo's spear had
struck the bull; then they turned back, conferred together, and pronounced their
judgment: "The game belongs to the Hero Ingo." A triumphant smile
passed over the face of the King as he turned his back to the bull.
"I advise," began Hildebrand, with sorrowful countenance,
"that the bands shall not return to the house at the same time; if it pleases
you, ye heroes, take the precedence."
"You are the lightest," replied Berthar; "my comrades
will have trouble carrying their game out of the forest. Yet I think that we
must not renounce the honor of the hunt; for this hunt will long be spoken of
in the country."
The followers of Answald went in silence to the house; only Theodulf
spoke in his haughty manner, in order to control by these words the rage that
was boiling within him. Without a hunting-cry they entered the court, and Hildebrand
hastened to the Prince.
It was dark when the victorious band arrived with their trophy.
"Sound the triumphal blast," cried Berthar, "as is befitting
so rich a trophy." The hunting-shout resounded, but no one opened the gate
of the courtyard, and Wolf was obliged to spring forward and push back the cross-beam.
The Vandals laid their spoil down in front of the Prince's house; they parted,
with a greeting, from the country guests, and collected together quietly in
their own quarters. The dwellings lay in darkness, and the winter storms howled
over the roofs; but in all the houses, and in the hall, there was a murmur of
suppressed talk.
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