But as to Hallblithe, he soon lost sight of the Glittering Plain and the mountains thereof, and there was nought but sea all round about him, and his heart swelled with joy as he sniffed the brine and watched the gleaming hills and valleys of the restless deep; and he said to himself that he was going home to his Kindred and the Roof of his Fathers of old time.  
He stood as near due north as he might; but as the day wore, the wind headed him, and he deemed it not well to beat, lest he should make his voyage overlong; so he ran on with the wind abeam, and his little craft leapt merrily over the sea-hills under the freshening breeze.  The sun set and the moon and stars shone out, and he still sailed on, and durst not sleep, save as a dog does, with one eye.  At last came dawn, and as the light grew it was a fair day with a falling wind, and a bright sky, but it clouded over before sunset, and the wind freshened from the north by east, and, would he, would he not, Hallblithe must run before it night-long, till at sunrise it fell again, and all day was too light for him to make much way beating to northward; nor did it freshen till after the moon was risen some while after sunset.  And now he was so weary that he must needs sleep; so he lashed the helm, and took a reef in the sail, and ran before the wind, he sleeping in the stern.
 
But past the middle of the night, towards the dawning, he awoke with the sound of a great shout in his ears.  So he looked over the dark waters, and saw nought, for the night was cloudy again.  Then he trimmed his craft, and went to sleep again, for he was over-burdened with slumber.
 
When he awoke it was broad daylight; so he looked to the tiller and got the boat’s head a little up to the wind, and then gazed about him with the sleep still in his eyes.  And as his eyes took in the picture before him he could not refrain a cry; for lo! there arose up great and grim right ahead the black cliffs of the Isle of Ransom.  Straightway he got to the sheet, and strove to wear the boat; but for all that he could do she drifted toward the land, for she was gotten into a strong current of the sea that set shoreward.  So he struck sail, and took the oars and rowed mightily so that he might bear her off shore; but it availed nothing, and still he drifted landward.  So he stood up from the oars, and turned about and looked, and saw that he was but some three furlongs from the shore, and that he was come to the very haven-mouth whence he had set sail with the Sea-eagle a twelvemonth ago: and he knew that into that haven he needs must get him, or be dashed to pieces against the high cliffs of the land: and he saw how the waves ran on to the cliffs, and whiles one higher than the others smote the rock-wall and ran up it, as if it could climb over on to the grassy lip beyond, and then fell back again, leaving a river of brine running down the steep.
 
Then he said that he would take what might befall him inside the haven.  So he hoisted sail again, and took the tiller, and steered right for the midmost of the gate between the rocks, wondering what should await him there.  Then it was but a few minutes ere his bark shot into the smoothness of the haven, and presently began to lose way; for all the wind was dead within that land-locked water.  Hallblithe looked steadily round about seeking his foe; but the haven was empty of ship or boat; so he ran his eye along the shore to see where he should best lay his keel and as aforesaid there was no beach there, and the water was deep right up to the grassy lip of the land; though the tides ran somewhat high, and at low water would a little steep undercliff go up from the face of the sea.  But now it was near the top of the tide, and there was scarce two feet betwixt the grass and the dark-green sea.
 
Now Hallblithe steered toward an ingle of the haven; and beyond it, a little way off, rose a reef of rocks out of the green grass, and thereby was a flock of sheep feeding, and a big man lying down amongst them, who seemed to be unarmed, as Hallblithe could not see any glint of steel about him.  Hallblithe drew nigh the shore, and the big man stirred not; nor did he any the more when the keel ran along the shore, and Hallblithe leapt out and moored his craft to his spear stuck deep in the earth.  And now Hallblithe deems that the man must be either dead or asleep: so he drew his sword and had it in his right hand, and in his left a sharp knife, and went straight up to the man betwixt the sheep, and found him so lying on his side that he could not see his face; so he stirred him with his foot, and cried out: “Awake, O Shepherd! for dawn is long past and day is come, and therewithal a guest for thee!”
 
The man turned over and slowly sat up, and, lo! who should it be but the Puny Fox?  Hallblithe started back at the sight of him, and cried out at him, and said: “Have I found thee, O mine enemy?”
 
The Puny Fox sat up a little straighter, and rubbed his eyes and said: “Yea, thou hast found me sure enough.  But as to my being thine enemy, a word or two may be said about that presently.”
 
“What!” said Hallblithe, “dost thou deem that aught save my sword will speak to thee?”
 
“I wot not,” said the Puny Fox, slowly rising to his feet, “but I suppose thou wilt not slay me unarmed, and thou seest that I have no weapons.”
 
“Get thee weapons, then,” quoth Hallblithe, “and delay not; for the sight of thee alive sickens me.”
 
“Ill is that,” said the Puny Fox, “but come thou with me at once, where I shall find both the weapons and a good fighting-stead.  Hasten! time presseth, now thou art come at last.”
 
“And my boat?” said Hallblithe.
 
“Wilt thou carry her in thy pouch?” said the Puny Fox; “thou wilt not need her again, whether thou slay me, or I thee.”
 
Hallblithe knit his brows on him in his wrath; for he deemed that Fox’s meaning was to threaten him with the vengeance of the kindred.  Howbeit, he said nought; for he deemed it ill to wrangle in words with one whom he was presently to meet in battle; so he followed as the Puny Fox led.  Fox brought him past the reef of rock aforesaid, and up a narrow cleft of the cliffs overlooking the sea, whereby they came into a little grass-grown meadow well nigh round in shape, as smooth and level as a hall-floor, and fenced about by a wall of rock: a place which had once been the mouth of an earth-fire, and a cauldron of molten stone.
 
When they stood on the smooth grass Fox said: “Hold thee there a little, while I go to my weapon-chest, and then shall we see what is to be done.”
 
Therewith he turned aside to a cranny of the rock, and going down on his hands and knees, fell to creeping like a worm up a hole therein, which belike led to a cavern; for after his voice had come forth from the earth, grunting and groaning, and cursing this thing, and that, out he comes again feet first, and casts down an old rusty sword without a sheath; a helm no less rusty, and battered withal, and a round target, curled up and outworn as if it would fall to pieces of itself.  Then he stands up and stretches himself, and smiles pleasantly on Hallblithe and says: “Now, mine enemy, when I have donned helm and shield and got my sword in hand, we may begin the play: as to a hauberk I must needs go lack; for I could not come by it; I think the old man must have chaffered it away: he was ever too money-fain.”
 
But Hallblithe looked on him angrily and said: “Hast thou brought me hither to mock me?  Hast thou no better weapons wherewith to meet a warrior of the Raven than these rusty shards, which look as if thou hadst robbed a grave of the dead?  I will not fight thee so armed.”
 
“Well,” said the Puny Fox, “and from out of a grave come they verily: for in that little hole lieth my father’s grandsire, the great Sea-mew of the Ravagers, the father of that Sea-eagle whom thou knowest.  But since thou thinkest scorn of these weapons of a dead warrior, in go the old carle’s treasures again!  It is as well maybe; since he might be wrath beyond his wont if he were to wake and miss them; and already this cold cup of the once-boiling rock is not wholly safe because of him.”
 
So he crept into the hole once more, and out of it presently, and stood smiting his palms one against the other to dust them, like a man who has been handling parchments long laid by; and Hallblithe stood looking at him, still wrathful, but silent.
 
Then said the Puny Fox: “This at least was a wise word of thine, that thou wouldst not fight me.  For the end of fighting is slaying; and it is stark folly to fight without slaying; and now I see that thou desirest not to slay me: for if thou didst, why didst thou refuse to fall on me armed with the ghosts of weapons that I borrowed from a ghost?  Nay, why didst thou not slay me as I crept out of yonder hole?  Thou wouldst have had a cheap bargain of me either way.  It would be rank folly to fight me.”
 
Said Hallblithe hoarsely: “Why didst thou bewray me, and lie to me, and lure me away from the quest of my beloved, and waste a whole year of my life?”
 
“It is a long story,” said the Puny Fox, “which I may tell thee some day.  Meantime I may tell thee this, that I was compelled thereto by one far mightier than I, to wit the Undying King.”
 
At that word the smouldering wrath blazed up in Hallblithe, and he drew his sword hastily and hewed at the Puny Fox: but he leapt aside nimbly and ran in on Hallblithe, and caught his sword-arm by the wrist, and tore the weapon out of his hand, and overbore him by sheer weight and stature, and drave him to the earth.  Then he rose up, and let Hallblithe rise also, and took his sword and gave i............