Meanwhile things were going on very quietly at Worms. Queen Ute would
sit spinning by the hour together, humming many a weird ditty, but
seldom speaking. Queen Brunhild would sit by her side embroidering the
death of Baldur, which she copied from old patterns. Curiously enough,
the white god was not like the pattern, but rather resembled Siegfried.
“Look, mother Ute,” she said. “Is it not strange that, in spite of all
my efforts, the picture will resemble Siegfried, as he looked that day
when he rode out hunting for the last time. It is a sad story, and
reminds me of an old legend that I used to hear in my childhood, in
Isenland, in which a murder was committed for the sake of possessing a
magic sword. It seems to me that when Hagen comes back, I must get him
to give me Siegfried’s sword, Balmung, that I may restore it to the
dead hero. Otherwise I fear that Burgundy will suffer as Isenland
suffered through the theft of that other sword.”
“Neither Hagen nor any of the others will ever return to this house, on
which the sin of bloodshed rests, as yet unexpiated,” said mother Ute;
and, breaking off, she began to hum one of her strange, weird ditties,
which was so gruesome that none could listen to it without a shiver.
About this time Swemmeling arrived, and told the queens of the journey
to the land of the Huns, of the friendly reception the Burgundians had
met with from King Etzel, and then of the quarrel, the battle, and its
fatal results. No plaints, no weeping, no questions, interrupted the
minstrel’s tale. When he came to an end, the Lady Ute said:
“It is a sad tale, very, very sad, but it could not have been
otherwise, for much heroic blood was needed to wash away the curse of
murder from this house.”
Neither did Brunhild weep. She made all necessary arrangements for the
comfort of her guests. She asked that the good sword Balmung should be
given to her, and, looking at the blood-stains on the shining blade,
she said:
“Grim Hagen stole this weapon out of Siegfried’s grave. I will take it
back to the hero, now that it has been dipped in the blood of his
murderer, that he may rest in peace.”
She went to the grave-mound with the sword, and did not return that
day, nor during the night. When they sought her, they found her lying
dead beside Siegfried’s coffin, on which she had laid Balmung.
The Lady Ute went on spinning for many a day, and as she span, she
hummed a song of the snake-queen who murdered her own brood.
The Burgundian nobles, and all the people, mourned for their royal
house and the fallen heroes. But when feuds arose in the kingdom, they
united, and raised the young son of Gunther and Brunhild to the throne,
appointing brave men to act as guardians for the king so long as he
remained a child.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: GUDRUN]
_THE HEGELING LEGEND._
I.
HAGEN.
Zealously strove the knights in tilt and tournament to uphold their
country’s honour before Sigeband their king, when he held the Midsummer
feast at his high castle of Balian in Ireland. Sweetly the minstrels
sang the praise of warlike deeds; and eagerly did boys of noble birth
contend in games of hurling the spear and shooting with the bow. But
evermore did little Hagen, the king’s son, bear him best in the gentle
strife; and the heart of his mother, the Lady Ute, was pleased.
One day the boys were amusing themselves by throwing their spears at a
target. Having thrown them all, they ran forward to get their weapons
again, the prince among the rest. As he could run faster than his
companions, he reached the target first, and was busy pulling out his
spear, when an old man called to the children to run back and hide
themselves, for danger was approaching. He pointed up at the sky,
crying, “A griffin!”
The Lady Ute looked, and saw a dark spot in the sky. It seemed too
small to be dangerous. But it approached with the swiftness of an
arrow, and the nearer it came the bigger it grew. All could now hear
the noise made by its wings, and the sound resembled the rushing of the
storm. The other boys fled in terror, but Hagen stood his ground
boldly, and flung his spear with all his childish strength at the great
bird. The weapon grazed its feathers harmlessly, and, at the same
moment, it swooped down upon the child and bore him off in its talons.
So the feasting and mirth that had reigned at Castle Balian were turned
into mourning, for the heir to the kingdom was gone. There was no hope
of rescue; for though many a hero would willingly have fought with the
griffin, its flight was so swift that no one could see where it was
gone. Years passed on, and the king and queen had no news of their boy.
The griffin carried Hagen over land and sea to its nest, which it had
built on a rock rising out of the water. It gave the boy to its young
ones to eat, and then flew away in search of new booty. The little
griffins fell upon the child, and prepared to devour him, but he made
ready for his defence, thrust back their bills with all his strength,
and caught the birds by the throat striving to throttle them. At length
one of the griffins, which was old enough to fly, caught him up, and
carried him to the branch of a tree, that it might enjoy the sweet
morsel alone. The bough was too weak to bear their united weight; it
bent, broke, and the monster fell with the boy into a thicket of thorns
beneath. The griffin fluttered away, and Hagen crept deeper into the
thicket, unheeding the thorns. At length he reached a dark cave, where
he sank down utterly exhausted. When he came to his senses, he saw a
little girl of about his own age standing a little way off and looking
at him in astonishment. He raised himself on his elbow to see her
better, upon which she fled to a greater distance, and no wonder, his
appearance was so frightful. He was dirty, wounded, and bleeding, and
his clothes hung about him in rags. He limped and crept as well as he
could after the girl, and found that she had taken refuge in a large
cave with two companions. They all shrieked when they saw him, for they
thought he was either a wicked dwarf or a merman, who had followed them
to devour them; but when he told them that he was a prince who had been
carried off by the griffin, and had only escaped from the monster as by
a miracle, they were comforted, and shared their scanty fare with him.
After that they told him their story, which was much the same as his
own. He found that the girl he had first seen was called Hilde, and
that she was an Indian princess; the second was Hildburg of Portugal;
and the third came from Isenland. The maidens nursed their young
companion with such care that his wounds were soon healed. When he was
well again, he went out to provide the needful food, and ventured
deeper into the land than the maidens had ever done. He made himself a
bow and arrows, the latter of which he tipped with fish-bones, and
brought home small game of all kinds. As the children had no fire, they
were obliged to eat their food raw, but they became all the stronger
and hardier for that, and when Hagen was twelve years old he was almost
a man in size.
Meanwhile the young griffins were grown up, and were able to go out in
search of food for themselves, so that the boy could no longer wander
about as freely and fearlessly as before. Nevertheless, one evening he
ventured down to the shore, and crept under an overhanging rock which
hid him from view. He looked out at the foaming waves and the wild sea,
which now looked dark as night, and again was lighted up by the vivid
flashes of lightning that burst from the storm-clouds. He listened
fearlessly to the loud peals of thunder, the howling of the wind, and
the sound of the frantic waves dashing against the rocks. But suddenly
he caught sight of a boat, struggling in unequal conflict with the
elements, and his heart was filled with hope and fear; of hope, because
thoughts of home and his parents were awakened in his breast; of fear,
because the boat seemed too weak to live on such a sea. Then he saw it
drive upon a point of rock. There was one shriek of agony, and ship and
crew were swallowed in the waves. The storm raged on, until morning
came, and seemed with its soft light to calm the fury of the winds. On
the strand were scattered pieces of the wreck, and the corpses of the
luckless mariners. Hagen was going to sally out in hopes of picking up
something useful, when he was stopped by hearing the whirr of griffins’
wings, and knew that the great birds had come down to the shore, having
scented the prey. While the monsters were busied with their meal, the
boy crept out of his hiding-place in search of something to eat. But he
only found drift-wood, and a drowned man in full armour, with sword and
bow, and a quiverful of sharp-pointed arrows. He could have shouted
aloud for joy, for now he had arms, such as he used to see at his
father’s court. Quickly he donned the coat of mail, covered his head
with the helmet, girded the sword to his side, picked up the steel bow
and the arrows. It was high time, for at this moment one of the
griffins swooped down upon him. He drew his bow with all his strength,
and the arrow struck his enemy in the breast, bringing it down with
fluttering wings. It fell at his feet, dead. A second monster shared
its fate, and now the three other birds attacked him all at once; but
he slew them all with his sword. He took the heads of the dead monsters
to his friends in the cave, who had passed a wakeful night in anxiety
for him. Great was their joy when they found that the griffins were
dead. They accompanied their hero to the place of his victory, they
helped him to throw the great birds into the sea, and then, true to
pious custom, they assisted him to heap up a mound over the dead
warrior whose weapons had helped Hagen to victory. Vainly did they seek
for provisions among the wreckage; but they found a well-preserved box
with flint and steel, which enabled them to make a fire. So they were
now able to enjoy a well-dressed meal, which after their former
privations seemed a perfect banquet.
Hagen went out hunting much more frequently than before, and slew
bears, wolves, panthers, and other wild beasts. Once, however, he met
with a curious creature. It was covered with shining scales, its eyes
glowed like red-hot coals, and horrible grinders gleamed in its
blood-red jaws.
He aimed a sharp arrow at its back; but the point glanced off the
glittering scales, and the monster turned upon the lad. A second arrow
was likewise without effect. Hagen now drew his sword; but all his
efforts were useless, and he only escaped the terrible claws by his
marvellous agility. When he was almost exhausted by the long struggle,
he at length saw his opportunity, and plunged his weapon into the great
jaws. Overcome with fatigue, he seated himself on the still heaving
body of the creature. He longed for a few drops of water to quench his
thirst, and as none was near, he eagerly drank of the blood that
streamed from the monster’s wounds. Scarcely had he done this, when his
weakness vanished, and an unaccustomed sense of power took possession
of him. He sprang to his feet, longing to put his new strength to the
test. He would not have hesitated to fight all the griffins and giants
in the world. He drew his sword, and slew a bear with one stroke. In
like manner he killed two panthers, and a rhinoceros. He was covered
with blood from head to foot, and looked so ferocious carrying the bear
on his shoulders, that he frightened the maidens in the cave; but he
regained his accustomed manner when he had seen the gentle Hilde.
Many years came and went. Hagen and his three friends had enough to eat
and drink, and were clothed in the skins of wild beasts. Although they
were very happy together, they longed to get back to the haunts of men,
and often cast anxious looks over the sea in hopes of seeing some ship
approach. At length one morning, when the three maidens were standing
on the shore, a white sail appeared on the horizon, and came gradually
nearer and nearer. They lighted a fire, and called Hagen, who joined
them fully armed. Their signals were seen from the ship, and a boat was
sent out, which soon approached the shore. The helmsman uttered a cry
of astonishment when he saw their strange dress, and asked if they were
human beings or water-sprites.
“We are poor unfortunate people,” said Hagen; “take us with you, for
God’s sake.”
So the sailors took them to the ship, and they were soon on board. The
captain looked at them in amazement, and Hagen, in answer to his
questions, told their whole story. When he spoke of his father
Sigeband, the powerful king of Balian, the captain exclaimed:
“What! you can kill griffins like flies! Still you are a lucky catch
for me, for I am that Count of Garadie to whom your father has done so
much injury. You shall now be hostage till a proper sum of money is
paid to me. Here, men, put this young fellow in chains, and steer for
Garadin.”
Scarcely had the Count said these words when Hagen fell into a Berseker
rage. He flung the sailors, who would have laid hold of him, into the
sea: then, drawing his sword, he rushed upon the master of the vessel,
when a soft hand was laid upon his arm. He turned round furiously; but
at the sight of Hilde’s gentle, lovely face, his terrible anger
vanished. Hilde spoke gentle words of conciliation, and Hagen listened.
Then, turning to the Count, he promised to make all matters right
between him and the King, if he would at once steer for Balian. The
captain agreed to do so, and steered for Ireland. Favourable winds
swelled the sails, and ten days later the walls and towers of Balian
hove in sight. Naturally his parents did not at first recognise Hagen;
but great was their rejoicing when they found who he was. A firm peace
was concluded with the Count of Garadie, and the three maidens were
received with all honour and courtesy.
Hagen did not long remain quietly at home in his father’s house. He
wished to see something of the world, and to gain both name and fame.
Time passed on, and Hagen, who was known far and wide for his great
deeds, was appointed to rule the land in his old father’s place. When
urged by his mother to choose a wife, now that he had settled down
after his wanderings, he wooed fair Hilde, the sweet companion of his
childhood, and soon afterwards married her.
Queen Ute lived to hold a grandchild in her arms, who was called Hilde
after her mother; but soon after that she and Sigeband died, leaving
their son to rule alone.
The Princess Hilde grew up beautiful, and many wooers came to Balian to
ask for her hand in marriage. But Hagen would receive no man as a
son-in-law without first fighting with him, declaring that he would
never give his daughter to one that was not stronger than himself.
Whoever ventured to try conclusions with him had the worst of it. Wild
Hagen, the terror of kings, became also the terror of wooers, and
before long, he really had his house to himself.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]