The king was stricken with equal fear, and fled, with a few followers, to a narrow shelter.

But Ragnar, trusting in the hardness of his frozen dress, foiled the poisonous assaults not only with his arms, but with his attire, and, singlehanded, in unweariable combat, stood up against the two gaping creatures, who stubbornly poured forth their venom upon him.

For their teeth he repelled with his shield, their poison with his dress.

At last he cast his spear, and drove it against the bodies of the brutes, who were attacking him hard.

He pierced both their hearts, and his battle ended in victory.
After Ragnar had thus triumphed the king scanned his dress closely, and saw that he was rough and hairy; but, above all, he laughed at the shaggy lower portion of his garb, and chiefly the uncouth aspect of his breeches; so that he gave him in jest the nickname of Lodbrog.