“In the deep sea-caves
By the sounding shore,
In the dashing waves
When the wild storms roar,
In her cold green bowers
In the northern fiords,
She lurks and she glowers,
She grasps and she hoards,
And she spreads her strong net for her prey.”
Loki waited to hear no more; but he sprang into the air, and the magic
shoes carried him onwards over the water in search of the Ocean-queen.
He had not gone far when his sharp eyes espied her, lurking near a rocky
shore against which the breakers dashed with frightful fury. Half hidden
in the deep dark water, she lay waiting and watching; and she spread her
cunning net upon the waves, and reached out with her long greedy fingers
to seize whatever booty might come near her.
When the wary queen saw Loki, she hastily drew in her net, and tried to
hide herself in the shadows of an overhanging rock. But Loki called her
by name, and said,--
“Sister Ran, fear not! I am your friend Loki, whom once you served as a
guest in AEgir’s gold-lit halls.”
Then the Ocean-queen came out into the bright moonlight, and welcomed
Loki to her domain, and asked, “Why does Loki thus wander so far from
Asgard, and over the trackless waters?”
And Loki answered, “I have heard of the net which you spread upon the
waves, and from which no creature once caught in its meshes can ever
escape. I have found a salmon where the Rhine-spring gushes from beneath
the mountains, and a very cunning salmon he is for no common skill can
catch him. Come, I pray, with your wondrous net, and cast it into the
stream where he lies. Do but take the wary fish for me, and you shall
have more gold than you have taken in a year from the wrecks of stranded
vessels.”
“I dare not go,” cried Ran. “A bound is set, beyond which I may not
venture. If all the gold of earth were offered me, I could not go.”
“Then lend me your net,” entreated Loki. “Lend me your net, and I will
bring it back to-morrow filled with gold.”
“Much I would like your gold,” answered Ran; “but I cannot lend my net.
Should I do so, I might lose the richest prize that has ever come into
my husband’s kingdom. For three days, now, a gold-rigged ship, bearing
a princely crew with rich armor and abundant wealth, has been sailing
carelessly over these seas. To-morrow I shall send my daughters and the
bewitching mermaids to decoy the vessel among the rocks. And into my net
the ship, and the brave warriors, and all their armor and gold, shall
fall. A rich prize it will be. No: I cannot part with my net, even for a
single hour.”
But Loki knew the power of flattering words.
“Beautiful queen,” said he, “there is no one on earth, nor even in
Asgard, who can equal you in wisdom and foresight. Yet I promise you,
that, if you will but lend me your net until the morning dawns, the ship
and the crew of which you speak shall be yours, and all their golden
treasures shall deck your azure halls in the deep sea.”
Then Ran carefully folded the net, and gave it to Loki.
“Remember your promise,” was all that she said.
“An Asa never forgets,” he answered.
And he turned his face again towards Rhineland; and the magic shoes bore
him aloft, and carried him in a moment back to the ice-mountain and
the gorge and the infant river, which he had so lately left. The
salmon still rested in his place, and had not moved during Loki’s short
absence.
Loki unfolded the net, and cast it into the stream. The cunning fish
tried hard to avoid being caught in its meshes; but, dart which way
he would, he met the skilfully woven cords, and these drew themselves
around him, and held him fast. Then Loki pulled the net up out of the
water, and grasped the helpless fish in his right hand. But, lo! as he
held the struggling creature high in the air, it was no longer a fish,
but the cunning dwarf Andvari.
“Thou King of the Elves,” cried Loki, “thy cunning has not saved thee.
Tell me, on thy life, where thy hidden treasures lie!”
The wise dwarf knew who it was that thus held him as in a vise; and he
answered frankly, for it was his only hope of escape, “Turn over the
stone upon which you stand. Beneath it you will find the treasure you
seek.”
Then Loki put his shoulder to the rock, and pushed with all his might.
But it seemed as firm as the mountain, and would not be moved.
“Help us, thou cunning dwarf,” he cried,--“help us, and thou shalt have
thy life!”
The dwarf put his shoulder to the rock, and it turned over as if by
magic, and underneath was disclosed a wondrous chamber, whose walls
shone brighter than the sun, and on whose floor lay treasures of gold
and glittering gem-stones such as no man had ever seen. And Loki, in
great haste, seized upon the hoard, and placed it in the magic net which
he had borrowed from the Ocean-queen. Then he came out of the chamber;
and Andvari again put his shoulder to the rock which lay at the
entrance, and it swung back noiselessly to its place.
“What is that upon thy finger?” suddenly cried Loki. “Wouldst keep back
a part of the treasure? Give me the ring thou hast!”
But the dwarf shook his head, and made answer, “I have given thee all
the riches that the elves of the mountain have gathered since the world
began. This ring I cannot give thee, for without its help we shall never
be able to gather more treasures together.”
And Loki grew angry at these words of the dwarf; and he seized the ring,
and tore it by force from Andvari’s fingers. It was a wondrous little
piece of mechanism shaped like a serpent, coiled, with its tail in its
mouth; and its scaly sides glittered with many a tiny diamond, and its
ruby eyes shone with an evil light. When the dwarf knew that Loki really
meant to rob him of the ring, he cursed it and all who should ever
possess it, saying,--
“May the ill-gotten treasure that you have seized tonight be your bane,
and the bane of all to whom it may come, whether by fair means or by
foul! And the ring which you have torn from my hand, may it entail upon
the one who wears it sorrow and untold ills, the loss of friends, and a
violent death! The Norns have spoken, and thus it must be.”
Loki was pleased with these words, and with the dark curses which
the dwarf pronounced upon the gold; for he loved wrong-doing, for
wrong-doing’s sake, and he knew that no curses could ever make his own
life more cheerless than it always had been. So he thanked Andvari
for his curses and his treasures; and, throwing the magic net upon his
shoulder, he sprang again into the air, and was carried swiftly back to
Hunaland; and, just before the dawn appeared in the east, he alighted
at the door of the farmhouse where Odin and Hoenir still lay bound with
thongs, and guarded by Fafnir and Regin.
Then the farmer, Hreidmar, brought the otter’s skin, and spread it upon
the ground; and, lo! it grew, and spread out on all sides, until it
covered an acre of ground. And he cried out, “Fulfil now your promise!
Cover every hair of this hide with gold or with precious stones. If you
fail to do this, then your lives, by your own agreement, are forfeited,
and we shall do with you as we list.”
Odin took the magic net from Loki’s shoulder; and opening it, he poured
the treasures of the mountain elves upon the otter-skin. And Loki and
Hoenir spread the yellow pieces carefully and evenly over every part
of the furry hide. But, after every piece had been laid in its place;
Hreidmar saw near the otter’s mouth a single hair uncovered; and he
declared, that unless this hair, too, were covered, the bargain would
be unfulfilled, and the treasures and lives of his prisoners would be
forfeited. And the Asas looked at each other in dismay; for not another
piece of gold, and not another precious stone, could they find in the
net, although they searched with the greatest care. At last Odin took
from his bosom the ring which Loki had stolen from the dwarf; for he had
been so highly pleased with its form and workmanship, that he had hidden
it, hoping that it would not be needed to complete the payment of the
ransom. And they laid the ring upon the uncovered hair. And now no
portion of the otter’s skin could be seen. And Fafnir and Regin, the
ransom being paid, loosed the shackles of Odin and Hoenir, and bade the
three huntsmen go on their way.
Odin and Hoenir at once shook off their human disguises, and, taking
their own forms again, hastened with all speed back to Asgard. But Loki
tarried a little while, and said to Hreidmar and his sons,--
“By your greediness and falsehood you have won for yourselves the Curse
of the Earth, which lies before you. It shall be your bane. It shall
be the bane of every one who holds it. It shall kindle strife between
father and son, between brother and brother. It shall make you mean,
selfish, beastly. It shall transform you into monsters. The noblest king
among men-folk shall feel its curse. Such is gold, and such it shall
ever be to its worshippers. And the ring which you have gotten
shall impart to its possessor its own nature. Grasping, snaky, cold,
unfeeling, shall he live; and death through treachery shall be his
doom.”
Then he turned away, delighted that he had thus left the curse of
Andvari with Hreidmar and his sons, and hastened northward toward
the sea; for he wished to redeem the promise that he had made to the
Ocean-queen, to bring back her magic net, and to decoy the richly laden
ship into her clutches.
No sooner were the strange huntsmen well out of sight than Fafnir and
Regin began to ask their father to divide the glittering hoard with
them.
“By our strength and through our advice,” said they, “this great store
has come into your hands. Let us place it in three equal heaps, and then
let each take his share and go his way.”
At this the farmer waxed very angry; and he loudly declared that he
would keep all the treasure for himself, and that his sons should not
have any portion of it whatever. So Fafnir and Regin, nursing their
disappointment, went to the fields to watch their sheep; but their
father sat down to guard his new-gotten treasure. And he took in his
hand the glittering serpent-ring, and gazed into its cold ruby eyes:
and, as he gazed, all his thoughts were fixed upon his gold; and there
was no room in his heart for love toward his fellows, nor for deeds
of kindness, nor for the worship of the All-Father. And behold, as he
continued to look at the snaky ring, a dreadful change came over him.
The warm red blood, which until that time had leaped through his veins,
and given him life and strength and human feelings, became purple and
cold and sluggish; and selfishness, like serpent-poison, took hold of
his heart. Then, as he kept on gazing at the hoard which lay before him,
he began to lose his human shape; his body lengthened into many scaly
folds, and he coiled himself around his loved treasures,--the very
likeness of the ring upon which he had looked so long.
When the day drew near its close, Fafnir came back from the fields with
his herd of sheep, and thought to find his father guarding the treasure,
as he had left him in the morning; but instead he saw a glittering
snake, fast asleep, encircling the hoard like a huge scaly ring of gold.
His first thought was that the monster had devoured his father; and,
hastily drawing his sword, with one blow he severed the serpent’s head
from its body. And, while yet the creature writhed in the death-agony,
he gathered up the hoard, and fled with it beyond the hills of Hunaland,
until on the seventh day he came to a barren heath far from the homes
of men. There he placed the treasures in one glittering heap; and he
clothed himself in a wondrous mail-coat of gold that was found among
them, and he put on the Helmet of Dread, which had once been the terror
of the mid-world, and the like of which no man had ever seen; and then
he gazed with greedy eyes upon the fateful ring, until he, too, was
changed into a cold and slimy reptile,--a monster dragon. And he coiled
himself about the hoard; and, with his restless eyes forever open, he
gloated day after day upon his loved gold, and watched with ceaseless
care that no one should come near to despoil him of it. This was ages
and ages ago; and still he wallows among his treasures on the Glittering
Heath, and guards as of yore the garnered wealth of Andvari.[EN#10]
When I, Regin, the younger brother, came back in the late evening to my
father’s dwelling, I saw that the treasure had been carried away; and,
when I beheld the dead serpent lying in its place, I knew that a part of
Andvari’s curse had been fulfilled. And a strange fear came over me; and
I left every thing behind me, and fled from that dwelling, never more
to return. Then I came to the land of the Volsungs, where your father’s
fathers dwelt, the noblest king-folk that the world has ever seen. But
a longing for the gold and the treasure, a hungry yearning, that would
never be satisfied, filled my soul. Then for a time I sought to forget
this craving. I spent my days in the getting of knowledge and in
teaching men-folk the ancient lore of my kin, the Dwarfs. I taught them
how to plant and to sow, and to reap the yellow grain. I showed them
where the precious metals of the earth lie hidden, and how to smelt iron
from its ores,--how to shape the ploughshare and the spade, the spear
and the battle-axe. I taught them how to tame the wild horses of the
meadows, and how to train the yoke-beasts to the plough; how to build
lordly dwellings and mighty strongholds, and how to sail in ships across
old AEgir’s watery kingdom. But they gave me no thanks for what I had
done; and as the years went by they forgot who had been their teacher,
and they said that it was Frey who had given them this knowledge and
skill. And I taught the young maidens how to spin and weave, and
to handle the needle deftly,--to make rich garments, and to work in
tapestry and embroidery. But they, too, forgot me, and said that it was
Freyja who had taught them. Then I showed men how to read the mystic
runes aright, and how to make the sweet beverage of poetry, that charms
all hearts, and enlightens the world. But they say now that they had
these gifts from Odin. I taught them how to fashion the tales of old
into rich melodious songs, and with music and sweet-mouthed eloquence to
move the minds of their fellow-men. But they say that Bragi taught them
this; and they remember me only as Regin, the elfin schoolmaster, or
at best as Mimer, the master of smiths. At length my heart grew bitter
because of the neglect and ingratitude of men; and the old longing for
Andvari’s hoard came back to me, and I forgot much of my cunning and
lore. But I lived on and on, and generations of short-lived men arose
and passed, and still the hoard was not mine; for I was weak, and no man
was strong enough to help me.
Then I sought wisdom of the Norns, the weird women who weave the woof of
every creature’s fate.[EN#6] and [EN#7]
“How long,” asked I, “must I hope and wait in weary expectation of that
day when the wealth of the world and the garnered wisdom of the ages
shall be mine?”
And the witches answered, “When a prince of the Volsung race shall come
who shall excel thee in the smithying craft, and to whom the All-Father
shall give the Shining Hope as a helper, then the days of thy weary
watching, shall cease.”
“How long,” asked I, “shall I live to enjoy this wealth and this wisdom,
and to walk as a god among men? Shall I be long-lived as the Asa-folk,
and dwell on the earth until the last Twilight comes?”
“It is written,” answered Skuld, “that a beardless youth shall see thy
death. But go thou now, and bide thy time.”
Here Regin ended his story, and both he and Siegfried sat for a long
time silent and thoughtful.
“I know what you wish,” said Siegfried at last. “You think that I am the
prince of whom the weird sisters spoke; and you would have me slay the
dragon Fafnir, and win for you the hoard of Andvari.”
“It is even so,” answered Regin.
“But the hoard is accursed,” said the lad.
“Let the curse be upon me,” was the answer. “Is not the wisdom of the
ages mine? And think you that I cannot escape the curse? Is there aught
that can prevail against him who has all knowledge and the wealth of the
world at his call?”
“Nothing but the word of the Norns and the will of the All-Father,”
answered Siegfried.
“But will you help me?” asked Regin, almost wild with earnestness. “Will
you help me to win that which is rightfully mine, and to rid the world
of a horrible evil?”
“Why is the hoard of Andvari more thine than Fafnir’s?”
“He is a monster, and he keeps the treasure but to gloat upon its
glittering richness. I will use it to make myself a name upon the earth.
I will not hoard it away. But I am weak, and he is strong and terrible.
Will you help me?”
“To-morrow,” said Siegfried, “be ready to go with me to the Glittering
Heath. The treasure shall be thine, and also the curse.”
“And also the curse,” echoed Regin.
Adventure IV. Fafnir, the Dragon.
Regin took up his harp, and his fingers smote the strings; and the music
which came forth sounded like the wail of the winter’s wind through
the dead treetops of the forest. And the song which he sang was full of
grief and wild hopeless yearning for the things which were not to be.
When he had ceased, Siegfried said,--
“That was indeed a sorrowful song for one to sing who sees his hopes so
nearly realized. Why are you so sad? Is it because you fear the curse
which you have taken upon yourself? or is it because you know not what
you will do with so vast a treasure, and its possession begins already
to trouble you?”
“Oh, many are the things I will do with that treasure!” answered Regin;
and his eyes flashed wildly, and his face grew red and pale. “I will
turn winter into summer; I will make the desert-places glad; I will
bring back the golden age; I will make myself a god: for mine shall be
the wisdom and the gathered wealth of the world. And yet I fear”--
“What do you fear?”
“The ring, the ring--it is accursed! The Norns, too, have spoken, and my
doom is known. I cannot escape it.”
“The Norns have woven the woof of every man’s life,” answered Siegfried.
“To-morrow we fare to the Glittering Heath, and the end shall be as the
Norns have spoken.”
And so, early the next morning, Siegfried mounted Greyfell, and rode
out towards the desert-land that lay beyond the forest and the barren
mountain-range; and Regin, his eyes flashing with desire, and his feet
never tiring, trudged by his side. For seven days they wended their
way through the thick greenwood, sleeping at night on the bare ground
beneath the trees, while the wolves and other wild beasts of the forest
filled the air with their hideous howlings. But no evil creature dared
come near them, for fear of the shining beams of light which fell
from Greyfell’s gleaming mane. On the eighth day they came to the open
country and to the hills, where the land was covered with black bowlders
and broken by yawning chasms. And no living thing was seen there, not
even an insect, nor a blade of grass; and the silence of the grave was
over all. And the earth was dry and parched, and the sun hung above them
like a painted shield in a blue-black sky, and there was neither shade
nor water anywhere. But Siegfried rode onwards in the way which Regin
pointed out, and faltered not, although he grew faint with thirst and
with the overpowering heat. Towards the evening of the next day they
came to a dark mountain-wall which stretched far out on either hand, and
rose high above them, so steep that it seemed to close up the way, and
to forbid them going farther.
“This is the wall!” cried Regin. “Beyond this mountain is the Glittering
Heath, and the goal of all my hopes.”
And the little old man ran forwards, and scaled the rough side of the
mountain, and reached its summit, while Siegfried and Greyfell were yet
toiling among the rocks at its foot. Slowly and painfully they climbed
the steep ascent, sometimes following a narrow path which wound along
the edge of a precipice, sometimes leaping, from rock to rock, or over
some deep gorge, and sometimes picking their way among the crags and
cliffs. The sun at last went down, and one by one the stars came out;
and the moon was rising, round and red, when Siegfried stood by Regin’s
side, and gazed from the mountain-top down upon the Glittering Heath
which lay beyond. And a strange, weird scene it was that met his sight.
At the foot of the mountain was a river, white and cold and still; and
beyond it was a smooth and barren plain, lying silent and lonely in
the pale moonlight. But in the distance was seen a circle of flickering
flames, ever changing,--now growing brighter, now fading away, and now
shining with a dull, cold light, like the glimmer of the glow-worm or
the fox-fire. And as Siegfried gazed upon the scene, he saw the dim
outline of some hideous monster moving hither and thither, and seeming
all the more terrible in the uncertain light.
“It is he!” whispered Regin, and his lips were ashy pale, and his knees
trembled beneath him. “It is Fafnir, and he wears the Helmet of Terror!
Shall we not go back to the smithy by the great forest, and to the life
of ease and safety that may be ours there? Or will you rather dare to go
forwards, and meet the Terror in its abode?”
“None but cowards give up an undertaking once begun,” answered
Siegfried. “Go back to Rhineland yourself, if you are afraid; but you
must go alone. You have brought me thus far to meet the dragon of the
heath, to win the hoard of the swarthy elves, and to rid the world of
a terrible evil. Before the setting of another sun, the deed which you
have urged me to do will be done.”
Then he dashed down the eastern slope of the mountain, leaving Greyfell
and the trembling Regin behind him. Soon he stood on the banks of the
white river, which lay between the mountain and the heath; but the
stream was deep and sluggish, and the channel was very wide. He paused
a moment, wondering how he should cross; and the air seemed heavy with
deadly vapors, and the water was thick and cold. While he thus stood in
thought, a boat came silently out of the mists, and drew near; and the
boatman stood up and called to him, and said,--
“What man are you who dares come into this land of loneliness and fear?”
“I am Siegfried,” answered the lad; “and I have come to slay Fafnir, the
Terror.”
“Sit in my boat,” said the boatman, “and I will carry you across the
river.”
And Siegfried sat by the boatman’s side; and without the use of an oar,
and without a breath of air to drive it forwards, the little vessel
turned, and moved silently towards the farther shore.
“In what way will you fight the dragon?” asked the boatman.
“With my trusty sword Balmung I shall slay him,” answered Siegfried.
“But he wears the Helmet of Terror, and he breathes deathly poisons, and
his eyes dart forth lightning, and no man can withstand his strength,”
said the boatman.
“I will find some way by which to overcome him.”
“Then be wise, and listen to me,” said the boatman. “As you go up from
the river you will find a road, worn deep and smooth, starting from
the water’s edge, and winding over the moor. It is the trail of Fafnir,
adown which he comes at dawn of every day to slake his thirst at the
river. Do you dig a pit in this roadway,--a pit narrow and deep,--and
hide yourself within it. In the morning, when Fafnir passes over it, let
him feel the edge of Balmung.”
As the man ceased speaking, the boat touched the shore, and Siegfried
leaped out. He looked back to thank his unknown friend, but neither boat
nor boatman was to be seen. Only a thin white mist rose slowly from the
cold surface of the stream, and floated upwards and away towards the
mountain-tops. Then the lad remembered that the strange boatman had worn
a blue hood bespangled with golden stars, and that a gray kirtle was
thrown over his shoulders, and that his one eye glistened and sparkled
with a light that was more than human. And he knew that he had again
talked with Odin. Then, with a braver heart than before, he went
forwards, along the river-bank, until he came to Fafnir’s trail,--a
deep, wide furrow in the earth, beginning at the river’s bank, and
winding far away over the heath, until it was lost to sight in the
darkness. The bottom of the trail was soft and slimy, and its sides had
been worn smooth by Fafnir’s frequent travel through it.
In this road, at a point not far from the river, Siegfried, with his
trusty sword Balmung, scooped out a deep and narrow pit, as Odin had
directed. And when the gray dawn began to appear in the east he hid
himself within this trench, and waited for the coming of the monster. He
had not long to wait; for no sooner had the sky begun to redden in the
light of the coming sun than the dragon was heard bestirring himself.
Siegfried peeped warily from his hiding-place, and saw him coming far
down the road, hurrying with all speed, that he might quench his thirst
at the sluggish river, and hasten back to his gold; and the sound which
he made was like the trampling of many feet and the jingling of many
chains. With bloodshot eyes, and gaping mouth, and flaming nostrils, the
hideous creature came rushing onwards. His sharp, curved claws dug
deep into the soft earth; and his bat-like wings, half trailing on the
ground, half flapping in the air, made a sound like that which is heard
when Thor rides in his goat-drawn chariot over the dark thunder-clouds.
It was a terrible moment for Siegfried, but still he was not afraid. He
crouched low down in his hiding-place, and the bare blade of the trusty
Balmung glittered in the morning light. On came the hastening feet and
the flapping wings: the red gleam from the monster’s flaming nostrils
lighted up the trench where Siegfried lay. He heard a roaring and a
rushing like the sound of a whirlwind in the forest; then a black,
inky mass rolled above him, and all was dark. Now was Siegfried’s
opportunity. The bright edge of Balmung gleamed in the darkness one
moment, and then it smote the heart of Fafnir as he passed. Some men say
that Odin sat in the pit with Siegfried, and strengthened his arm and
directed his sword, or else he could not thus have slain the Terror.
But, be this as it may, the victory was soon won. The monster stopped
short, while but half of his long body had glided over the pit; for
sudden death had overtaken him. His horrid head fell lifeless upon
the ground; his cold wings flapped once, and then lay, quivering and
helpless, spread out on either side; and streams of thick black blood
flowed from his heart, through the wound beneath, and filled the trench
in which Siegfried was hidden, and ran like a mountain-torrent down the
road towards the river. Siegfried was covered from head to foot with the
slimy liquid, and, had he not quickly leaped from his hiding-place, he
would have been drowned in the swift-rushing, stream.[EN#11]
The bright sun rose in the east, and gilded the mountain-tops, and fell
upon the still waters of the river, and lighted up the treeless plains
around. The south wind played gently against Siegfried’s cheeks and in
his long hair, as he stood gazing on his fallen foe. And the sound of
singing birds, and rippling waters, and gay insects,--such as had not
broken the silence of the Glittering Heath for ages,--came to his ears.
The Terror was dead, and Nature had awakened from her sleep of dread.
And as the lad leaned upon his sword, and thought of the deed he had
done, behold! the shining Greyfell, with the beaming, hopeful mane,
having crossed the now bright river, stood by his side. And Regin, his
face grown wondrous cold, came trudging over the meadows; and his heart
was full of guile. Then the mountain vultures came wheeling downwards
to look upon the dead dragon; and with them were two ravens, black as
midnight. And when Siegfried saw these ravens he knew them to be Odin’s
birds,--Hugin, thought, and Munin, memory. And they alighted on the
ground near by; and the lad listened to hear what they would say. Then
Hugin flapped his wings, and said,--
“The deed is done. Why tarries the hero?”