This went on for some time until Gerwargerulf heard the boy amend a phrase that was excellent and he blurted out: No, child! Keep it the way it was before!The two children from the east looked up and saw the awful head of Gerwargerulf. He was twice the size of any oaf they had ever seen. They quickly got up and ran away, fearing for their lives.Monster! Monster! they screamed.This made Gerwargerulf very sad, for he was a sensitive oaf, a true lover of music, and he did not wish to be feared.For the rest of his life Gerwargerulf kept the boy’s song in his head and always wondered whether the child had settled for the better phrasing or the lesser. From time to time, he would hum the boy’s tune and modify it to his liking.He told himself: This war will be over soon and when it is, I am going to find that child and sing to him my version of his song. I am certain he will like it, for I have improved it in a way that honors his heart song!Gerwargerulf would imagine the boy from the east and himself traveling the earth together as musicians.It was four years later, so the boy would be about eleven, maybe twelve.At that point Gerwargerulf had killed over three hundred oafs of the east, though as a sensitive lover of peace, he had mourned every death as a great loss to oafenkind.At long last there came a day when he was called into a meeting with the lords of the west and they told him what he had waited so long to hear: The war will be over tomorrow.A delighted Gerwargerulf said, Are you certain? How is this to be accomplished?Well, music boy, they kidded him, it will be over with the death of one small oaf.A delighted Gerwargerulf prodded, How? Tell me how.They said, You will engage in battle tomorrow against a champion from the east. His name is Wiftet and the enemy claims that he is a fierce warrior blessed by the great creator with great gifts. However, our spies say that he is a mere boy with no great gifts at all.We believe that the east is weary of war and they are sending the lad to be sacrificed so that it might end.You, great son of Uulf — music boy, they laughed good-naturedly — have been chosen to do the honors.Make it a good kill, they shouted, for king and creator!A good kill, a delighted Gerwargerulf echoed, for king and creator!On the day of the battle, Gerwargerulf was dressed in full and resplendent armor.He had a broadsword, a tall feathered helmet with visor, and a stately shield bearer who bore his mighty shield.Trumpets blared as the oafs of the west gathered behind their giant champion.Then trumpets on the opposite side of the battlefield blared as the champion from the east appeared, and the oafs from the west did hoo and haw in their laughter.Indeed, it was a small boy — an oaf of eleven, maybe twelve, wearing no armor but a tunic of war so large for him that it gathered at his feet and dragged on the ground. In his hands were his weapons: a few smooth whispering stones and a sling.Gerwargerulf cried aloud: How pathetic! They have sent a boy with pebbles to pester me! He’s no bigger than a little man man. Come, then, little man man. Come and taste of death!He had a good belly laugh as the boy with the handful of pebbles began to run toward him.Everyone on the west shook with jibes and laughter, while everyone on the east held a collective breath.Great Gerwargerulf raised his great sword and thundered in his gait toward the boy.One last death, one last good kill, and this war will be over, thought the great oaf Lord Gerwargerulf, and then his ears picked up something.The boy was singing.It was familiar music. It was the song!This was the boy who had composed the song!Gerwargerulf halted his charge and lifted his helmet to get a better look at the boy.Indeed it was he! Wiftet was the boy! Oh what a great day!In his joy, Gerwargerulf, the player of the wing-ed harp, was not reminded that he was in battle.But Wiftet, the little singer of songs, did fit a smooth whispering stone into his sling and let fly.As Gerwargerulf was shouting most joyously, You are the boy that I have been longing to see! the whispering stone guided by the hand of the great creator struck him in the forehead a mighty blow, which cracked his monstrous skull.The giant oaf Gerwargerulf, the greatest oaf who ever lived, collapsed to his knees, teetered for a moment, and then fell forward into the earth.Cheers rang out from the east and died away into the vacuum of stunned silence on the west.But Gerwargerulf was not dead yet, only dying, for when the boy Wiftet went to him with the sword given to him by the king of the east to sever the head of the giant, he heard these words that no one else could hear:Bend down low and listen to me, great singer of songs.And little Wiftet bent down low, and these were the words the dying Gerwargerulf said to him:I am he who frightened you that day by the hill, but I was only trying to hear your beautiful heart song.Live long, music boy, and give much music to the world.For the world needs the goodness of song.Kill only if it brings peace as my death has brought peace.And thus did die the greatest oaf who ever lived.The great Gerwargerulf.Thus did die the son of mighty Uulf, earth-son of the great creator.Lord Gerwargerulf, the only one and the last one of his kind.The great singer of songs, Gerwargerulf.And little Wiftet did sever great Gerwargerulf’s head with the sword given to him by King Hrdrada.And the forty-year war between the east and the west came to an end at last.And all oafs were again united as one tribe under one standard.And when little Wiftet grew up and became king, a period of peace and prosperity did follow, the likes of which has never been seen before nor since, for he did rule with the goodness of music in his heart.And when Wiftet died, his twin sons Euphus and Wiftet the younger battled over the royal seat, and there was war, for the earth was again divided into halves and ruled by two brothers with opposite ideals.It has been this way ever since.