Taking the spear, he stabbed with it towards the four quarters of the horizon; then, muttering some invocation, he plunged it into the bowl, stirring its contents till the iron grew black.

Now he threw aside the spear, and lifting the bowl in both hands, he carried it to his father and offered it to him.
Although he had been unable to see him drop the poison into the cup, a glance at Hafela told Owen that it was there; for though he kept his face under control, he could not prevent his hands from twitching or the sweat from starting upon his brow and breast.
The king rose, and taking the bowl, held it on high, saying:-- "In this cup, which I drink on behalf of the nation, I pledge you, my people." It was the signal for the royal salute, for which each regiment had been prepared.

As the last word left the king's lips, every one of the thirty thousand men present in that great place began to rattle his kerry against the surface of his ox-hide shield.

At first the sound produced resembled that of the murmur of the sea; but by slow and just degrees it grew louder and ever louder, till the roar of it was like the deepest voice of thunder, a sound awe-inspiring, terrible.
Suddenly, when its volume was most, four spears were thrown into the air, and at this signal every man ceased to beat upon his shield.

In the place itself there was silence, but from the mountains around the echoes still crashed and volleyed.