A shore lay empty in a savage village, but strange tides bring strange drifts. A man lay still washed ashore. Death at sea had been his curse. Found by a boy who wondered at him. Dragged to the village to be worshipped like a king.
This man, this strange giant man! Now the funeral began. The village gathered 'round the man on the altar adorned in gold. The women wept, children bowed their heads, and they offered him up to their gods. Now the men did storm, tear into his flesh, and of the dead they did consume. The women wept, children gnashed their teeth, and they drank of his blood. O, the power of this strange giant's blood!