He would not, however, tarry with any of them, but pressed eagerly forward, so that they would turn and look after this noble knight and wonder who he was, and whither he hasted.
One of these simple folk with whom he waited a few minutes to partake of a hasty meal said, at parting-- "Beware, my lord, of the robbers who haunt the skirts of the forest.
They come suddenly upon the unwary traveller, and have no pity." Sigurd smiled.
"I have passed the four-footed wolves," he said; "I fear not the two- footed." "Nay, but," said the peasant, "they are not to be despised.

Ever since Sigurd was banished many of his soldiers have deserted the king, and now live the robber's life in these woods.

Stay here, my lord, till a band of us will be going to Jockjen together." But Sigurd smiled scornfully, and, thanking the man, started forward, fearing nothing save arriving too late at Niflheim.
Yet the woodman's warning was not lost upon him, for he walked with his drawn sword in his hand, keeping both his eyes and ears open as he went.
All that day he pressed onward, and towards evening came to a lonely part of the wood, where the trees for a short space all round closed thickly overhead and shut out the light.

He had passed through this spot, and was once more emerging into the open, when three men suddenly sprang out of the thicket and faced him.
Two of them were in the garb of common peasants, and carried, the one a club, the other a knife.

Sigurd guessed them at once to be two of the robbers of whom the woodman had warned him.