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Not long had they fared, ere backwards looked The son of Othin, once more to see; From their caves in the east beheld he coming With Hymir the throng of the many-headed.

He stood and cast from his back the kettle, And Mjollnir, the lover of murder, he wielded; ... So all the whales of the waste he slew.

Not long had they fared ere one there lay Of Hlorrithi's goats half-dead on the ground; In his leg the pole-horse there was lame; The deed the evil Loki had done.