But they refused.

These, I presume, they wished to keep, together with the chains off his breast and trunk, as mementoes of their victory over the god of their foes.

At any rate they hewed the former out with axes and removed the latter before tumbling the carcass into the grave.

From the worn-down state of the teeth I concluded that this beast must have been extraordinarily old, how old it is impossible to say.
That is all I have to tell of Jana.

May he rest in peace, which certainly he will not do if Hans dwells anywhere in his neighbourhood, in the region which the old boy used to call that of the "fires that do not go out." Because of my horrible failure in connection with this beast, the very memory of which humiliates me, I do not like to think of it more than I can help.
For the rest the White Kendah kept faith with us in every particular.