Part II 100

XIII. The Wooing of Gerd 109

XIV. How Thor Fought the Giant Hrungner 117

XV. The Story of Balder 126

XVI. Andvari's Hoard 137

XVII. The Story of Siegmund 149

XVIII. The Vengeance of the Volsungs 159

XIX. The Magic Sword 169

XX. The Slaying of Fafnir 183

XXI. The Valkyrie 196

XXII. Siegfried at Gunther's Court 204

XXIII. The Wooing of Brunhilde 215

XXIV. How Brunhilde Came to Burgundy 228

XXV. The Death of Siegfried 238

XXVI. The Last of the Hoard 251

XXVII. The Punishment of Loki 259

XXVIII. The Twilight of the Gods 266

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

FACING PAGE

Odin disguised as a Traveller 21

Loki 41

Siegfried and the Famous Sword Balmung 183

Siegfried fighting the Dragon 190

Valkyrie bearing Hero to Valhalla 200

Wotan's Farewell to Brunhilde 202

Siegfried's Triumphant Entry into Burgundy with

Captives and Spoils 211

Gunther and Brunhilde arrive at Burgundy and are

received by Kriemhild 232

Gunther and Brunhilde 236

Siegfried and Kriemhild 240

Loki and Sigyn 264

Stories from Northern Myths

How All Things Began

Long, long ago, before the earth was made,--and there was no sea and

sky or night and day,--the vast, unending Land of Mist stretched away

on one side of a bottomless gulf,[1] on the other side of which lay

the Land of Fire. The Land of Mist was called Niflheim, and here

eternal winter reigned with fog and snow and darkness that wrapped the

dreary land about like a shroud. From the heart of Niflheim there

flowed a dark, tumultuous river, and as it rushed down into the chasm

at its edge, the waters met the cold blasts that swept up from below,

and great mountains of ice were formed on the side of the gulf over

which the chill fogs gathered and the bitter winds blew.

[1] It is called in the Eddas "Ginungagap."

The never changing twilight which brooded over the gulf was sometimes

illuminated by sparks that were blown over from the Land of Fire that

lay just beyond. This place was called Muspelheim, and here the whole

land glowed like a living furnace with flames that burned with the

heat of a million suns. Sparks of fire flew up in great numbers into

the clouds, and these, glowing like balls of fire, were thrown far and

wide on the land. Some of the burning sparks floated northward toward

the land of snows, and as they fell into the ice-filled gulf, they

changed to clouds of steam which were soon congealed into hoar-frost.

Then one day this great mass of frost, on which fresh sparks of fire

still fell, was suddenly warmed into life, and out of ice and snow and

fire and heat the great giant Ymir was made.

Now although Ymir was fashioned out of these strange elements and so

never felt the cold, he was soon very hungry in his home of ice and

snow, and there was no food to be found anywhere. For a long time the

giant wandered over the frost-bound land, and then one day he came

upon the gigantic cow Audhumbla, who stood among the ice-hills calmly

chewing her cud. From her udders flowed four streams of milk, and this

was more than enough to satisfy the giant's hunger. He never strayed

far from the wonderful cow, and one day, as he watched her licking

salt from the blocks of ice, he was surprised to see a head suddenly

appear through the melting ice. Audhumbla kept on licking with her

strong, rough tongue, and soon the whole body of a man emerged. As

this strange being stood before the eyes of the astonished Ymir, the

giant was filled with fear and hatred, for he knew that from the

mighty Iceman[2] would spring a new race that would soon make war upon

the giants and destroy them.

[2] His name was Bure, and his son was Bor, the father of

Odin, Vile and Ve.

This is, indeed, just what did happen later on, for from the children

of the Iceman came the gods Odin, Vile and Ve, who began at once to

make war upon Ymir and all his kindred. In the terrible battle that

took place between the gods and giants, Ymir was killed; and from his

body poured forth such a great river of blood that all of the giants

were drowned in it except two. These were Bergelemer and his wife, who

escaped on a chest that floated away to the edge of the world. From

them sprang a new race of frost-giants who continued to make trouble

for the gods just as their forefathers had done.

Then Odin[3] took the body of Ymir, and with the help of his brothers

he fashioned from it the earth and the sea and the sky. From the great

masses of flesh they formed the earth, and all around it they planted

Ymir's eyebrows to make a high fence as a protection against the

frost-giants. His immense bones they shaped into hills, and out of

his teeth they made the cliffs, while his thick hair they used for

trees and bushes and grass. His blood supplied the boundless ocean,

and his skull formed the arching sky in which the gods placed some of

the sparks that floated out of Muspelheim. These they caught and set

in the heavens and called them stars. The sky was held in place by

four strong dwarfs who stood east and west and south and north with

the great weight resting on their shoulders. All this work seemed good

in the eyes of the gods, and they knew that everything as it left

their hands would prosper if only the frost-giants would stay in

Jötunheim--their dreary, fog-wrapped country that lay beyond the ocean

which now encircled the earth.

[3] Sometimes spelled Woden, from which comes Wodensday

(Wednesday).

To the giantess Night, and her son, Day, the gods gave chariots and

swift horses, so that they might drive through the sky every

twenty-four hours. Night had a dark chariot drawn by the black horse

Hrimfaxe (Frosty-mane), who rushed so swiftly through the heavens that

drops fell from his sweating flanks and bit, and these became dew or

hoar-frost as they lighted on the earth. Day drove a white horse which

was called Skinfaxe (Shining-mane); and when the chariot of his dusky

mother sank out of sight behind the hills, he harnessed his shining

steed and followed in the same path she had chosen.

Beside the chariots which belonged to Night and Day, the gods set two

others in the heavens to light the newly made earth. From the flames

that leaped forever out of the Land of Fire they made the sun and

moon, and placed each one in a golden chariot so that they might be

driven through the sky. The horses which drew the sun and moon were

beautiful white creatures with shining golden manes. In order that the

restive steeds of the sun should not be scorched by its fierce heat,

the gods placed a great shield in front of the chariot to protect the

animals' flowing manes. The moon horses did not need anything to stand

between them and its mild rays.

Then Odin chose Mani and Sol--the son and daughter of a giantess--to

drive the chariots of the sun and moon; and the story goes that many,

many years later, when there were people on the earth, Mani looked out

of his golden chariot one night and saw two little children--a boy and

a girl--carrying between them a heavy pail of water. These children

were the servants of a cruel giant who made them work all night

instead of sleeping; and Mani, feeling very sorry for them, and being

rather lonely all by himself, put out a long arm and caught up the

children from the earth. Then he set them beside him in the moon; and

they have remained there with Mani ever since.

The frost-giants, who loved dreariness and gloom, were very angry

when they saw how bright the world was with the light of the sun and

moon; so they sent two fierce gray wolves to follow close upon the

track of the bright chariots. Sometimes they came so near that their

great black shadows dimmed the brightness of the sun, and sometimes

they hung so close to the wheels of the moon-car that its light never

reached the earth. The wolves never succeeded, however, in eating up

the chariots, though their grim shapes often lingered threateningly in

the sky.

When the gods had formed the earth--which they called Midgard--they

chose the most beautiful spot they could find for their home. In the

very centre of the earth rose a lofty mountain, and on the top of it

was a broad, lovely meadow where the gods built their shining city of

Asgard. In the midst of the city was a spacious hall, made of gold and

the purest marble, and here were the thrones where the gods sat when

in council.[4] Beyond the hall were the palaces of the gods[5A] and

goddesses,[5B] also made of marble and silver or gold, and near by was

a huge smithy where the gods forged the weapons needed to defend their

city from their enemies the frost-giants.

[4] This hall was called Gladsheim, and the palace of the

goddesses was called Vingolf.

[5A], [5B] They are also called the Asas, Æsir, Anses or Anse-race.

From Asgard to Midgard the gods stretched a rainbow bridge which they

called Bifrost; and over this they passed and repassed on their

frequent journeys to the earth. There was no human being on the earth

at this time, and the gods felt sorry that no eyes but their own could

look upon the fruitful, blossoming land. No one ploughed the fields or

built houses, or sailed in ships across the seas. No voices of

children rang over the meadows; no sound of the reaper's scythe broke

the stillness of the fields; and no ringing of metal on the smith's

firm anvil was heard throughout the silent earth.

Then the gods took some of the earth-mould and made of it a host of

tiny creatures which they called Dwarfs or Gnomes[6]; but when Odin

saw how ugly they were, with their misshapen bodies and great heads,

he condemned them to live underground and never to come up into the

light of day. So the dwarfs spent their time delving into the heart of

the earth for gold and silver and precious stones; and they became the

cleverest workmen at their tiny forges, making wonderful things of

every kind of metal. They were cunning, too, and kept their secrets

well, so that neither gods nor men knew the hiding-place of their

treasures.

[6] Sometimes also called Trolls.

Besides the dwarfs, the gods made the Fairies,--or Elves,--but these

were so airily and daintily fashioned that they seemed to belong to

the sky instead of the earth. So the gods built the fairy folk a home

between Midgard and Asgard--a beautiful place called Elfland, all made

of rainbow colours and moonbeams, and gossamer silks and delicate

spiders' webs. The gods also gave these little people gauzy wings so

that they could fly down to earth and play with the butterflies, and

make caps of harebells, and dance in the moonlight round a fairy ring.

They were never wicked and spiteful like the Gnomes, though they

sometimes liked to play good-natured tricks on stupid people; and

fortunate indeed was the child or man who won a fairy for his friend.

One day Odin and Hœnir and Loki were walking about on the earth; and

as they drew near to the seashore they saw two stately trees, an ash

and an elm, standing side by side. Then Odin took the trees, and out

of them he made two living beings that resembled the gods themselves

in form and feature. Hœnir touched their foreheads, that they might

have sight and wisdom, and Loki gave them warm blood, with the power

to speak and hear and feel. Thus man and woman were created; and the

gods called the man Ask, and the woman Embla, from the names of the

trees from which they were made.

Odin's Search for Wisdom

At the end of the rainbow bridge stood the wonderful tree Ygdrasil,

which bound all the worlds together in the grasp of its mighty hands.

Some of the roots were firmly fixed in Midgard, and even extended

underground to the home of the swarthy elves. Some roots branched out

into Jötunheim, where the frost-giants ever strove to tear them out;

and one root struck down into the very depths of the earth, to that

dark region of the dead where ruled the terrible goddess Hel. The Tree

of Life also grew upwards to a marvellous height, and its branches

spread out so widely that many birds and beasts came to it for

shelter. The topmost boughs reached up to Asgard, where they

overshadowed Odin's hall.

At the foot of the tree Ygdrasil sat the three Norns--or Fates[7]--who

weave the thread of each man's life. Every day the Norns sprinkled the

tree with water from the sacred Urdar fountain; so the tree always

flourished, and its leaves kept fresh and green in spite of the

dragon[8] which forever gnawed at its roots, hoping to destroy it.

The heavy foliage that crowned its upper boughs never lacked for

moisture, but grew more beautiful each year, although Heidrun, the

goat of Odin, browsed on its leaves, and though it furnished food to

four great stags who grazed beside it. From the horns of these stags

dew continually fell in such abundance that it supplied water for all

the rivers of the earth.

[7] Their names were Urd, Verdande and Skuld.

[8] The dragon's name was Nidhogg.

The very topmost branch of the Tree of Life was called the Peace

Bough, and on it sat a great eagle who kept watch over all that

happened in the worlds below. Up and down the trunk of the mighty

Ygdrasil scampered the squirrel Ratatosk, a mischievous little fellow

who delighted to make trouble between the eagle and the dragon at the

foot of the tree by repeating malicious speeches which he said each

had made of the other. In this way he hoped to stir up such strife

that he would some day see a terrible battle fought between them.

Ratatosk was daring enough to explore all the land that was

overshadowed by the boughs of Ygdrasil, but he never ventured near the

gates of Asgard, nor did he risk going into the deep grove that

sheltered Mimer's well--that wonderful well whose waters flowed down

into the roots of the Tree of Life.

The Peace Bough hung over the hall of the gods just above the golden

throne where Odin sat ruling the affairs of gods and men. On Odin's

head was a shining helmet shaped like an eagle, and over his

shoulders was thrown a mantle of deep blue with such a wonderfully

jewelled hem that it looked as if the cloak were edged with stars. In

his hand he held a spear which was deemed so sacred that if any one

swore an oath upon its point, he would never dare to break it. At

Odin's feet crouched two great wolves[9] which he fed daily with his

own hand; and on his shoulders perched his two ravens Hugin and Munin

(Thought and Memory) who flew each morning over the earth and brought

back to Odin the news of all that was going on in the earth below.

Sometimes they told him of the brave deeds of heroes; sometimes they

spoke of the swarthy elves, or of the frost-giants plotting vengeance

in their home beyond the frozen seas; and sometimes they warned him

that the Midgard serpent, who lay with his immense body encircling the

earth, was lashing the sea into foam with his tail and rolling up the

waves until they threatened to cover the earth.

[9] Their names were Geri and Freki.

Since the ruling of the world was in Odin's hands, he was anxious to

gain wisdom enough for this great task; and though the gods far

excelled the earth-folk in knowledge, there were some of the

frost-giants who were wiser than Odin, for they knew of things that

happened long before the coming of the gods. On this account the

dwellers in Asgard were ever fearful lest their enemies should

destroy their shining city; and Odin longed for the knowledge that

would make him greater than any one in all the worlds.

There was only one way to get such wisdom as Odin wanted, and that was

to drink deep of the water that flowed into Mimer's well. No one save

the hoary old giant himself had ever tasted the water of the Well of

Wisdom; but Odin knew that without it he could never learn of things

past and present and to come. So he laid aside his spear and helmet;

and mounting his eight-legged horse Sleipnir, rode over the rainbow

bridge to the deep grove of trees in the heart of which old Mimer sat

guarding his sacred well.

Leaving Sleipnir some distance behind, Odin advanced alone; and soon

came in sight of the giant seated like a stone image beside the Well

of Wisdom. Mimer was so very, very old that he looked as if he had sat

there ever since the beginning of time; and as Odin stood in the dimly

lighted grove, he seemed to be the only living thing in all that vast

stillness. The giant's hair was white, and his beard had grown so long

that it reached almost to the ground as he leaned forward with his

head resting on his hand. In the other hand he held an ivory horn; but

though many had passed by the sacred well, no god or mortal had ever

been given a drink from Mimer's horn.

Odin advanced slowly to the giant's side; and the old man, who had

sat for ages and ages looking down into the clear depths of the water,

now raised his eyes and fixed them, not unkindly, on the waiting god.

Great and wise as Odin was, being ruler of gods and men, he felt a

strange awe in the presence of this hoary old Mimer, who lived long

before the creation of the worlds and was living before the gods and

the frost-giants engaged in their terrible warfare. As Odin approached

the sacred well, Mimer was fully aware of who his visitor was, for he

knew all things that ever had been, or are, or were yet to be. His

eyes, so keen and piercing, looked kindly upon the god from beneath

his shaggy brows; and his voice sounded soft to Odin's ears as he said

slowly:--

"What does the All-Father seek so far from sunny Asgard?"

"I have come to beg a draught from your well, O Mimer," answered Odin.

The old giant's face grew grave. "Whoever asks for that," he said,

"must be willing to give much in return. Many desire to drink of the

waters of wisdom, but few will pay the price. What will you give in

return for a draught from Mimer's well?"

Only a moment did Odin hesitate; then he said boldly, "I will give

anything you ask." At these words Mimer handed him the ivory horn,

saying: "Drink, then; and the wisdom of the ages shall be yours. But

before you go hence, leave with me as a pledge one of your eyes." So

Odin drank deep of the well of wisdom; and thereafter no one in all

the worlds was able to compare with the Father of the Gods in wisdom.

None of the dwellers in Asgard ever questioned Odin concerning his

visit to Mimer's well; but they honoured him more deeply for the great

sacrifice he had made; and whenever Odin visited the earth to mingle

in the affairs of men, people knew him as the god who had but a single

eye.

There was one other person besides old Mimer who was reputed to have

greater wisdom than the gods, and this was the frost-giant

Vafthrudner. Now Odin was very anxious to measure his knowledge with

that of his old enemy, for if the frost-giants were no longer wiser

than the wisest of the gods, there was less need to fear them. To put

his wisdom to the test, Odin set out on the long, dreary journey to

Jötunheim; and soon he found Vafthrudner sitting at the door of his

snow-house. When the giant saw a visitor approaching, he stopped

shaking the icicles from his frozen beard, and stared hard at the

intruder. Odin had disguised himself as a traveller, so Vafthrudner

did not know him and thought he was another foolish adventurer who had

come to learn wisdom at the cost of his life. For the penalty which

the loser must pay in his strife with the giant's wisdom was death.

So Vafthrudner laughed until the mountains shook when Odin declared

that this was the object of his journey to Jötunheim; for it amused

the giant vastly to think that a mere man had come to contend with him

in wisdom. He bade the stranger sit down, and Odin obeyed, pulling his

slouched hat well over his eye, so that the giant might not guess who

his visitor was. "Tell me," said Vafthrudner, "the name of the river

that divides Asgard from Jötunheim."

"The river Ifing, where the waters are never frozen," replied Odin,

quickly. The frost-giant looked surprised, but he only said:--

"You have answered rightly, O Wise One. And now tell me the names of

the horses that draw the chariots of Night and Day."

"Skinfaxe and Hrimfaxe," promptly replied Odin. Vafthrudner turned and

looked hard at this remarkable stranger who could speak so readily of

things that no man was thought to know. Then he asked many more

questions, to which Odin gave unhesitatingly the right answers; and

soon the frost-giant began to feel afraid of the strange traveller who

seemed to know more than the gods themselves. Anxiously he put the

last question, saying, "Tell me, O Great One, the name of the plain on

which the Last Battle will be fought." Now Vafthrudner knew that no

mortal man could possibly answer this question, so he waited

fearfully for Odin's reply.

"On the plain of Vigrid, which is a hundred miles on each side," came

the answer; and at this the frost-giant began to quake with fear, for

his boasted wisdom had been fairly met, and at last some one had come

to Jötunheim to defeat him.

Now it was Odin's turn to ask questions; and he drew from this wisest

of the giants a knowledge of things that happened long before the gods

came to dwell in Asgard. He learned all the secrets that the giants

guarded so carefully; and he made Vafthrudner tell him of the dim

unknown future, and of the events that would shape the lives of gods

and men. So eager was Odin to gain the desired wisdom that he forgot

how long he had been sitting at the frost-giant's side and listening

while Vafthrudner told him of the time when no gods were living, and

of the time when no gods should be.

The long day waned, and the curious stars peeped out, and Mani--as he

drove his horses over the western hills--wondered why Odin lingered so

long in dreary Jötunheim. When the All-Father had learned all he

desired to know, he rose up and said: "One last question I will put, O

Vafthrudner; and by its answer we may judge which is the wiser of us

two. What did Odin whisper in the ear of Balder as that shining one

lay on the funeral pyre?" When the frost-giant heard this question he

knew at last who it was that had been contending with him, and he

answered humbly: "Who but thyself, O Odin, can tell the words which

thou didst say to thy son? Thou art truly the wisest of all."

So Odin departed on the long journey back to Asgard, and the gods

rejoiced at his return, for hitherto no one had ever been known to

strive with Vafthrudner and live.

The Story of the Magic Mead

There once lived on the earth a man named Kvasir; and he was much

beloved by the gods because they had given him the wonderful gift of

poetry. Kvasir was a great traveller, and wherever he went men begged

him to tell them, in his singing words, of the life of the gods and of

the brave deeds of heroes. So the poet went from cottage to castle

sharing his gift with rich and poor alike. Sometimes he told the

familiar tales that had grown old on men's lips; and sometimes he sang

of heroes in far-off forgotten lands.

Every one loved Kvasir--every one except the spiteful little dwarfs

who grew jealous of him, and longed to do him some evil. So one day

when the poet was walking on the seashore, two of the dwarfs named

Fialar and Galar came up to him and begged him to visit their cave in

the rocks. Now Kvasir never suspected wrong of any one, so he

willingly followed the dwarfs into a dark cavern underground. Here the

treacherous brothers slew him, and drained his blood into three jars

in which they had already placed some honey. Thus of sweetness mingled

with a poet's life-blood they brewed the Magic Mead, which would give

to any one who drank of it gentleness and wisdom and the gift of

poesy.

When the dwarfs had mixed the mead, they took great care to hide it in

a secret cave; and then, proud of their cruel cunning, they set off in

search of further adventures. Soon they found the giant Gilling asleep

on the seashore; and after pinching him awake, they asked him to row

them a little way in his boat. The giant, who was both good-natured

and stupid, took the dwarfs into his boat, and began to row

vigorously. Then Galar suddenly steered the boat so that it struck on

a sharp rock and was overturned. The poor giant, who could not swim,

was immediately drowned; while the wicked little dwarfs climbed upon

the keel of the boat and finally drifted ashore.

Not content with this cruel act, they went straightway to the giant's

house and called to his wife to come quickly, for Gilling was

drowning. The giantess at once hurried to her husband's aid; and as

she came through the doorway, Fialar, who had climbed up above the

lintel, suddenly dropped a millstone on her head, killing her

instantly.

As the dwarfs were jumping up and down exulting over their success,

the giant's son--whose name was Suttung--came along. When he saw his

mother stretched dead upon the ground, and the little men skipping

about in their wicked glee, he guessed who was guilty of this

shameful deed. So he seized Galar and Fialar, one in each hand; and,

wading far out into the sea, he set them on a certain rock which was

sure to be covered with water when the tide rose. As he turned to go

away, the dwarfs screamed to him in terror and begged him to take them

back to land. In their fright they promised to give him anything he

might ask if only he would put them safe on shore.

Now Suttung had heard of the Magic Mead, and he longed very much to

possess it; so he made the dwarfs promise to give him the three jars

in exchange for their lives. Much as Galar and Fialar hated to do

this, they had no choice but to agree to the giant's demand; so as

soon as they were on land again, they delivered the precious mead into

his hands. As Suttung could not be at home all day to guard his

treasure, he hid the jars in a deep recess in the rocks, and bade his

daughter Gunlod watch over them night and day. The mouth of the cavern

was sealed up with an enormous stone so that no one could enter except

by a passageway known only to Gunlod, and Suttung felt that his

treasure was safe from both gods and men.

[Illustration: Odin disguised as a Traveller]

Meanwhile the news of Kvasir's death had been brought to Odin by his

ravens Hugin and Munin, and he determined to get possession of the

wonderful mead that had been brewed from the poet's blood. So he

disguised himself as a traveller, pulled his gray hat well over his

face and set out for the country where the Magic Mead was hidden. As

he neared the giant's home, he saw a field in which nine sturdy

thralls[10] were mowing hay. These men did not belong to Suttung, but

were the servants of his brother Baugi. This suited Odin's purpose

just as well, so he went quickly up to the thralls and said: "Your

scythes seem very dull. How much faster you could work if they were

sharper. Shall I whet them for you?" The men were surprised at this

unexpected offer of help; but they accepted the stranger's assistance

gladly. When they found how sharp he had made their scythes, they

begged him to sell or give them the marvellous whetstone. To this Odin

replied, "Whoever can catch it, may have it as a gift," and with these

words he threw the stone among them. Then began a fierce battle among

the thralls for the possession of the prize; and they cut at each

other so fiercely with their scythes that by evening every one of them

lay dead in the field.

[10] Thralls; servants.

While they were fighting thus savagely, Odin sought out Baugi's house

and begged for supper and a night's lodging. The giant received him

hospitably; and as they sat eating, word was brought to Baugi that his

nine thralls were dead. For a time Odin listened to his host's

complaints of his evil luck and of how much wealth he would lose

through his unmowed fields. Then he offered his services to Baugi,

promising to do as much work as the nine thralls. The giant was very

doubtful whether his visitor could make good this boast; but he

accepted the offer quickly, and next morning Odin set to work in the

fields.

Before many days had passed, all the hay on Baugi's land was carefully

stored away in the barns, and Odin came to the giant to demand his

wages. "What payment shall I make you?" asked Baugi, fearing that a

great sum would be named as the price of such remarkable service. He

was surprised, therefore, when Odin answered, "All I ask is a draught

of the Magic Mead which your brother Suttung keeps hidden in a

cavern."

"That is not an easy thing to get," replied the giant, "for though I

would be glad to fetch you some of the mead, my brother has never let

me enter the cave. However, I will ask him to bring you a single

draught." So Baugi went in search of his brother, and told him of the

wonderful service that Odin had rendered. Then he asked for one drink

of the Magic Mead for his servant. At this Suttung flew into a great

rage and cried:--

"Do you think I would give any of the mead to a stranger who can do

the work of nine thralls? No _man_ could have such wonderful power.

It is a god that you have been calling your servant, and the gods have

been our enemies since the beginning of time."

Now Baugi feared and hated the gods as much as his brother; but he had

given his word to Odin to help him get the Magic Mead, and he did not

dare to break his promise. So when he returned to his one-time

servant, and told of the ill success of his visit to Suttung, Odin

answered: "Then we must try some other way. Take me to the cavern

where the mead is hidden; but see that your brother knows nothing of

our going."

Very unwillingly Baugi consented to show Odin the secret cave; and as

they walked, he plotted how to get rid of his troublesome servant. It

seemed to take the giant a very long time to find the cavern; but when

they finally reached it, Odin drew an augur from his pocket, and began

to bore a hole in the great stone that stood at the cave's mouth. As

soon as he grew tired, he made Baugi take his turn at the augur; and,

owing to the giant's great strength, a hole was soon bored through the

rock. Then Odin quickly turned himself into a snake and crept into the

opening while Baugi, seeing his servant no longer beside him, and

realizing what the sudden transformation meant, made a stab at the

snake with the augur, hoping to kill it. But Odin had slid safely

through the hole, and was already inside the cave.

Taking his rightful form, Odin now began to look eagerly about him,

and when his eyes grew accustomed to the dimness of the cavern, he saw

the daughter of Suttung seated in the furthest corner beside the three

jars that contained the Magic Mead. He came softly to Gunlod's side,

and spoke to her so gently that she was not frightened at the sudden

appearance of a stranger; and when he smiled at her with a reassuring

look, she asked, "Who are you, and why are you here?"

"I am a traveller, tired and thirsty after my long journey," answered

Odin. "Will you not give me something to drink?"

Gunlod shook her head. "I have nothing here save the Magic Mead, and

that I dare not give you," she said sadly. Then Odin begged for just a

single draught, but the giant's daughter firmly refused to let him

touch the jars.

At last, after much coaxing and soft words, Gunlod allowed her visitor

to take one sip of the mead; but as soon as Odin got the jars in his

hands, he drained each one dry before the astonished maiden had

realized what had happened. Then he changed himself quickly into a

snake, and glided out through the opening in the rock. It was now but

a moment's work to assume an eagle's form, and start at once on his

journey back to Asgard. He knew well that there was no time to lose,

for Baugi had already gone to his brother with the news of what had

happened at the cave's mouth.

When Suttung heard Baugi's story and realized that his precious mead

was being stolen by one of the gods, he hurried at once to the cavern.

Just as he reached it, he saw an eagle rise heavily up from the earth,

and he knew this was some god in disguise bearing away the Magic Mead

to Asgard. So he quickly changed himself into an eagle, and started in

pursuit of the one with slowly moving wings. Odin could not fly very

fast, for the mead made him heavy; and he was much distressed to see

that the giant was easily gaining on him. As they both neared the

gates of Asgard, some of the gods were looking out, and they saw the

two birds approaching. They wondered what the pursuit might mean; but

it was not until the eagles neared the outer walls that the watchers

realized that it was Odin fleeing from an enemy, and straining his

weary wings to reach Asgard.

Then they laid a great pile of wood on the inner walls, and to this

they applied a torch the moment that the first eagle had passed safely

over. The flames shot up with a roar just as the pursuer had almost

caught his prey. The fire scorched Baugi's great wings, and the smoke

blinded his eyes so that he fluttered helplessly down to the earth.

Meanwhile the Magic Mead was safe in Asgard, and there it was put in

care of Bragi, the white-haired son of Odin. Thus the mead remained

forever with the gods; but sometimes a favoured mortal is given, at

his birth, a drop of this divine drink; and then, in later years, men

find that a poet has been born among them.

Gods and Men

I

Near Odin's council hall was a fair white building called the Hall of

Mists,[11] and here sat Frigga,[12] the wife of Odin, spinning the

many-coloured clouds. She spent long hours beside her golden wheel;

and when she spun by day, the clouds were white and soft and fleecy;

but toward evening Frigga put a touch of colour into her work, and

then the heavens glowed with yellow and violet and red. It was through

Odin's careful wife that snow fell plentifully in winter, for then

Frigga shook her feather beds, and made them ready for the touch of

the spring sunshine. At her command the rain fell all through the

year, so that the streets of Asgard might always be kept spotless. It

was Frigga, too, who made the wonderful gift of flax to men; and she

taught the women how to spin and weave.

[11] Also named Fensalir.

[12] Frigga is also called Fricka.

Frigga was very fond of children; and one day, as she looked down upon

the earth, she saw two little boys playing together on the seashore.

They were Geirrod and Agnar, sons of a wealthy king[13]; and Frigga

grew to love them very dearly. She was so anxious to talk to them and

know them, that she persuaded Odin to go with her down to the earth;

and, having disguised themselves as an old fisherman and his wife,

they took possession of a deserted hut. This hut was on an island many

miles from the country where Geirrod and Agnar lived; but Odin

promised Frigga that in spite of this, the children would come to her.

[13] King Hraudung.

One day Geirrod and his brother went out rowing in their boat, and a

storm came up which blew the tiny craft far out to sea. The boys

became terribly frightened; and the wind tossed them about on the

angry waves until they would surely have perished if Odin had not been

watching over them. He kept their frail boat from sinking, and guided

it to the very shore on which he and Frigga were living in the little

hut. The boys were glad indeed when their feet once more touched the

solid earth; for they were tired and hungry and cold, and a good deal

frightened, too. They knew that they must be far from their own

country; but they were so glad to be out of reach of the waves that it

mattered little to them what land it was to which the wind had brought

them.

When they began to look about them, they found that the island was

very bleak and bare, with no flowers nor fruits nor berries to be seen

anywhere. Nothing seemed to be growing there but low, thorny bushes

that scratched them and tore their clothes as they attempted to make

their way further into the island. Soon it began to get dark, and the

boys stumbled helplessly through the briers; but at last they saw the

glimmer of a light, and groped their way toward it. Presently they

came to a small hut, through whose open window the friendly light was

streaming, and, without a moment's hesitation, they knocked loudly at

the door.

They were a bit surprised at the appearance of the two people within

the hut; for although they were simply clad as peasants, there was

something in their bearing that reminded Geirrod and Agnar of the

lordly guests who had sat at their father's table. But the boys were

too hungry and tired to pay much attention to the kind folk who took

them in, though they were grateful for the food and dry clothing and a

warm place by the fire. Some days later, Geirrod inquired of his host

how a fisherman could afford such wonderfully soft beds and food fit

for kings to dine upon. Agnar asked no questions, but wondered why the

flowers bloomed so plentifully around the cottage door, and why the

birds sang all day.

It was too stormy for the boys to attempt to venture on the sea for

many days; and even when the storm was over, the waves looked dark and

menacing. Winter was coming on, and there was little chance that the

sea would grow calm; so Geirrod and Agnar lingered day after day in

the fisherman's cottage, needing no persuasion to remain with their

new-found friends. Geirrod spent all of his time with the

fisherman,[14] learning the lore of the sea and becoming very adept in

the use of the spear as well as the humbler net and line. He was also

taught to hunt the game that was plentiful on the island, and he grew

very proud of his skill with the bow. All day he stayed at the

fisherman's side, listening, learning and wondering at the great

knowledge which his companion had of things that had happened before

the world was made. He heard many tales of heroes, and learned of

brave deeds that had been done by men of his own race. He knew that

the fisherman told these stories so that he himself might see how fine

a thing it was to be brave and strong and noble; and Geirrod, who was

by nature selfish and cruel, felt so thrilled by the old man's

stirring words that he wished to be like the heroes whose lives were

so loudly praised.

[14] The fisherman called himself Grimner.

Agnar usually stayed with the fisherman's wife in the cottage; for he

was gentler and more timid than his brother, and preferred to help his

kind foster-mother instead of hunting with Geirrod or venturing out

on the sea to spear the great fish. Agnar, too, heard many stories as

he sat by the goodwife's side while she spun her flax; but these were

not hero-tales nor stories of adventure. She told him how the god

Freyr makes the flowers bloom, and the fruits ripen; and how his

sister Freya watches over the earth all through the springtime. She

spoke of the love which these two had for all the beautiful things in

nature, for music and poetry, and how they even watched with delight

the dancing of the fairies in Elfheim. She told him how wonderful the

city of Asgard looked when the sun shone on the broad, golden streets;

and how the sounds reëchoed through the great hall called Valhalla

where Odin feasted with the heroes chosen from the battle-field.

So the winter passed quickly, and when spring came the fisherman built

a new, strong boat in which the boys were to make their voyage

homeward. Then Geirrod and Agnar said good-by to the kind folk with

whom they had passed so many happy days. Reluctantly they sailed away

from the friendly island, and soon came in sight of their own country.

A fair wind carried them gently all the way, for Odin had commanded

Njord, the storm god, to keep his blusterous winds under control. As

the boat neared the familiar shores, Geirrod forgot all the generous

lessons that the fisherman had tried to teach him, and he began to

look with hatred at his brother. As Agnar was the older of the two, he

would inherit the kingdom; so Geirrod was filled with a sudden rage

against the gentle boy who stood in the way of his becoming king.

As the boat drew toward the shore, Geirrod sprang out, and giving the

boat a mighty shove toward the open sea he cried: "Go back to the

island, you weak, timid girl. You are not fit to be king." Then, being

a sturdy swimmer, he made for the land. The boat drifted out again to

sea, and carried Agnar to a strange land, where he lived many years.

Finally he returned to his own country in disguise and became a

servant in his father's palace--but by this time Geirrod had already

been made king. For when Geirrod swam ashore, he hastened at once to

his father and told him the whole story of his adventure with the

fisherman on the island. When the king asked for Agnar, Geirrod said

that his brother had been drowned on the journey home by falling over

the edge of the boat. As there was no reason to doubt this story, the

king mourned for Agnar as one dead; and the younger brother was

acknowledged heir to the throne. Not many years later, the king died

and Geirrod was made ruler over the whole kingdom.

When Odin and Frigga, who had long since left the island and returned

to Asgard, learned what had become of their favourites, Odin was very

proud that Geirrod had become a great king. Frigga grieved, however,

that the gentle Agnar had suffered through his brother's treachery,

and hated to see him serving as a menial in Geirrod's hall. When Odin

praised his former pupil, she would say: "He is a great king, but a

cruel man. No stranger would dare to trust to his mercy."

Now as unkindness to a stranger was a very despicable trait in those

days, this taunt of Frigga's roused Odin's wrath; and he determined to

show her that Geirrod was not the heartless king she declared him to

be. So he disguised himself as an aged traveller, and presented

himself at Geirrod's palace asking for food and shelter. Frigga,

however, was equally determined to prove Geirrod's cruelty, and thus

defend her favourite, Agnar. So she secretly sent a messenger to the

king bidding him beware of a strange old man who would come to the

palace claiming the rights of hospitality.

Odin was much surprised when he met with rough usage at the hands of

Geirrod's servants, not knowing that the king had commanded them to

seize any aged traveller who might come to the palace. He was not

welcomed to the well-filled table as he had expected, but was rudely

dragged before the king. Now Geirrod, believing that this was the

stranger of whom he had been warned to beware, commanded the old man

to tell his name and the object of his visit. The traveller stood with

bowed head, refusing to speak; and this made the king so angry that he

threatened the old man with torture and death if he did not answer.

As the stranger continued to keep silent, Geirrod commanded his

servants to chain him to a pillar in the great hall and build on each

side of him a hot fire whose flames would torture without destroying

him. So they dragged the unresisting old man to the pillar and bound

him with chains too strong for even the stoutest warrior to break.

Then they kindled fires on either side of him and stood off, laughing

and mocking at the trembling figure that seemed to crouch in terror

against the pillar.

For eight days and nights the fires were kept burning, and during all

this time the cruel king allowed no meat or drink to be given to his

prisoner. But one night, when the watchers were drowsy with ale and

the heat of the fires, a servant stole softly into the hall with a

great drinking-horn in his hand. This he carried to the old man, who

appeared to be in great suffering, and he smiled happily when he saw

the prisoner drain the cool drink to the last drop. This servant was

Agnar, the king's brother, whom every one believed to be dead.

The next morning, Geirrod assembled all his nobles in the great hall,

and they began to make merry over the prisoner's misery, asking him if

he would now speak and tell them who he was and from whence he came.

The old man shook his head, refusing to speak; but suddenly, to the

astonishment of all, he began to sing. And as he sang, the listeners

grew strangely silent, while a nameless fear seized the whole company

as they saw no longer the crouching figure by the pillar, but a tall

commanding form before whose awful majesty they shrank back trembling

and afraid. As the singing continued, the power and sweetness of the

music filled the echoing halls; and when the song was over, the chains

fell suddenly from the prisoner's arms and he stood--a terrible

accusing power--before the eyes of the terrified people. Geirrod as

well as his nobles knew now that a god had come among them; and the

king, fearing for his life, tried madly to defend himself. He seized

his sword and rushed blindly at the tall form confronting him,

forgetting--in his terror--that no weapon could prevail against an

immortal. Blinded by his fury, he fell forward upon his own sword, and

in a moment lay dead at Odin's feet.

Then the All-Father called to Agnar and bade him take his rightful

place on the throne which his brother had usurped. The people gladly

welcomed a kindlier ruler; and Odin, having righted the wrongs which

Geirrod's cruelty had created, now returned to Asgard to report to the

anxious Frigga that her favourite was at last made king.

II

There was once a king named Gylfe who was reputed to be the wisest

ruler of his time. He kept many learned men at his court; but he was

eager to gain more knowledge than all these sages could command, and

so sent far and wide for men skilled in magic and those whose eyes

could read the secrets of the stars.

One day an old woman[15] came to Gylfe's palace asking alms, and she

was brought at once into the presence of the king. Gylfe treated her

with great kindness, and while she sat at the king's table eating of

his own rich food, she turned to the monarch saying: "Never has the

stranger met with such kindness as this. What can I give you in

return?" The guests who were feasting began to laugh merrily, but the

king answered, "There is nothing that I wish for except wisdom."

"Then, listen," said the strange old woman, and she began to tell the

king a story of the world as it was when it came fresh from the hands

of the gods. Then she spoke of the frost-giants, the ancient enemies

of the shining ones of Asgard; and as the king listened, he seemed to

see how all things must have looked in that first morning of the

world.

[15] Her name was Gefjun.

When the old woman finished speaking and turned to leave the palace,

Gylfe begged her to accept some gift in return for her wonderful

stories; and the stranger, who was really a giantess, replied: "I will

take as much land as four oxen can plough in a day and a night." Now

the frost-giants had been envying the earth-folk many years, and they

wished to add more land to their country beyond the frozen seas. So

when Gylfe consented to the old woman's strange request, she brought

four immense oxen from Jötunheim, and harnessed them to a huge plough.

Then the giantess cut such a deep furrow into the earth that a great

tract of land was torn away; and this, being carried out to sea by the

oxen, was borne westward to Jötunheim. Thus Gylfe lost a large part of

his kingdom, but he felt that even that was not too great a price to

pay for the knowledge which he had gained.

Having learned from the giantess how wise were all the dwellers in

Asgard, Gylfe determined to seek the gods themselves; though he knew

that in his eager desire for more wisdom he was likely to meet death

at their hands for his presumption. So he set out on the journey to

Asgard; but he would surely have never reached those sacred halls if

Odin had not guided his footsteps and led him to the rainbow bridge

that reached up from Midgard to the city of the gods. Here, at the end

of Bifrost, he met Heimdall, the watchman who stood all day and night

guarding the shining city from the approach of the giants. Whenever a

stranger appeared at the rainbow bridge he sounded his horn[16] to

warn the gods of possible danger. Heimdall never slept; and he not

only saw as well by night as by day, but his eyes had the wonderful

power of seeing a hundred miles all around. He also had such

remarkable ears that he could hear the grass growing, and tell whether

the wind was blowing on the sea.

[16] Heimdall's horn was called the Gialar-horn. At Balder's

funeral, Heimdall rode to the sea on his horse Gulltopp.

Having received a command from Odin to let the stranger pass, Heimdall

allowed the king to enter the sacred city; and Gylfe soon found

himself in the presence of Odin. The Father of the Gods received him

kindly; and, after learning the object of his journey, permitted Gylfe

to seat himself in the great council-hall. Then Odin asked the king

what it was he wished to know, and Gylfe began to question him freely

and fearlessly. He asked about the creation of the world, about the

seasons and the rainfalls, and the changes of the moon. He asked why

the elves kept themselves forever hidden in the earth, and why the

fairies danced only in the moonlight. He spoke, though timidly, of the

dark underworld, and asked why the dead never came back to earth

again. He even questioned Odin concerning the gods themselves; and to

all these eager queries, the All-Father gave a willing answer.

Suddenly the hall grew full of mist and shadows, and Gylfe could

hardly see the foot of Odin's throne. A great noise like some

deafening thunder shook the council-hall, and the king, bewildered and

frightened, did not know where to turn for safety. Then all at once

the darkness and the sounds vanished, and Gylfe found himself on a

broad plain. At first he thought that he had seen the shield-hung hall

and the shining streets of Asgard only in a dream; but soon the words

of Odin came back to him, and he knew that he had indeed talked with

the greatest of the gods.

So Gylfe became the wisest ruler on the earth; but though all men

honoured him for his great wisdom, many refused to believe that he had

really been within the gates of Asgard.

Sif's Golden Hair and the Making of the Hammer

I

Among the gods there was one who was really unfit to be a god and to

live in the shining city of Asgard. He was the cause of much trouble

and mischief in his frequent journeys to the earth, and he brought

evil upon even the gods themselves. But as Loki was the brother of

Odin, he could not very well be banished from Asgard, so the gods

endured his presence as best they could. Loki did many unkind things

that the gods never heard of; but once he met with just punishment for

his meanness. This was the time that he robbed Sif of her golden hair.

[Illustration: Loki]

Sif was the wife of Thor[17] the god of thunder. She had beautiful

long hair that fell over her shoulders like a shower of gold, and of

this she was very proud. One day Sif fell asleep on the steps of

Thor's palace,[18] and while she lay there sleeping Loki came walking

by. There was nothing so dear to Loki as a chance to do mischief,

and he never saw anything beautiful without wishing to spoil it; so

when he found Sif fast asleep, he stole up softly behind her and cut

off all her golden hair.

[17] From Thor's day comes our word Thursday.

[18] The palace was named Bilskirner.

When Sif woke at last and saw what had happened, she began to cry

bitterly, for her golden hair was the pride and joy of Thor, and she

was afraid that he would never want to look at her again now that it

was gone. So she got up from the steps where she was sitting, and went

away to hide in the garden. When Thor came home, he looked for her all

through the palace, and went from room to room calling her name. Not

finding her in the house, he went out into the garden, and after

searching for a long time finally found poor Sif behind a stone,

sobbing bitterly. When he heard her story, he tried to comfort her the

best he could, but Sif continued weeping and covered her shorn head

with her arms.

"I know who did this shameful thing," cried Thor, wrathfully; "it was

that mischief-maker Loki, but this time he shall pay dearly for his

wickedness." And he strode out of the palace with a look so

threatening that even the gods might have trembled before him. Now

Loki was not expecting to be caught so soon, and he had not thought of

seeking a hiding place; so when Thor came suddenly upon him he was too

frightened to try to escape. He even forgot his ready lies, and when

Thor shook him angrily and threatened to kill him for his wicked act,

he made no denial, only begged for mercy and promised to restore to

Sif the hair he had cut off. Thor therefore released him, after

binding him by a solemn oath to fulfil his promise.

The real hair which Loki had cut off he had already lost, so to keep

his word to Thor he must find something else which would resemble it

closely enough to make Sif believe she had indeed her own hair again.

As there was only one place where skilful and cunning work like this

could be done, Loki crossed the rainbow bridge that spans the gulf

between Asgard and the earth, and hurried to the tall mountain which

hides, amid its rocks, the entrance to the lower world. No one but a

god, or one of the swarthy elves themselves, could have found this

hidden opening, but Loki knew it well. He first looked for a tiny

stream which flowed along at the foot of the mountain. This he

followed to its source in a deep cave among the rocks, and when he

came to the spot where it bubbled up from the ground, he raised a huge

log that was lying, apparently by chance, close beside it. This

disclosed a small passage leading down into the very centre of the

earth, and along this path Loki hastened, often stumbling about in the

darkness, until he came to the underworld where lived the swarthy

elves. They were busily engaged in their wonderful workshop, which

was lighted only by the fires from the forge, but when they saw Loki

they laid down their tools and asked him how they could serve him.

"I have a task," answered Loki, "which requires such great skill to

perform that I hardly dare ask you to attempt it. It is nothing less

than for you to make of your gold some locks of hair that will be as

soft and fine and beautiful as the golden hair which adorns the head

of Sif, the wife of Thor. You have heard, no doubt, of its beauty, so

you know how difficult a task I have given you."

The elves, nothing daunted, set at once to work, and selecting a bar

of perfect gold, they pounded it very soft, then spun it into threads

so fine that they looked like sunbeams, and so soft that they felt

like silk. When the work was finished and placed in Loki's hand, it

exceeded in beauty anything he had ever seen, and he felt sure that

Thor could not complain of his gift. Then he thanked the swarthy elves

and hastened with his prize back to Asgard and to the palace of Thor,

where all the gods had assembled to see the fulfilment of Loki's

promise.

In spite of the success of his undertaking, the fear of Thor's hasty

temper kept Loki somewhat humbled, for the Thunderer had been known to

crush the object of his anger with his hammer when once his wrath was

fully roused. His face was now dark and threatening as Loki

approached, and beside him stood Sif, weeping bitterly, and trying to

cover her head with her hands. But Loki came up boldly and placed the

golden hair which the elves had made, upon her head. To the

astonishment of all, it immediately grew fast, and no one could have

told that it was not her own golden hair. So Sif was proud and happy

once again, and Loki was forgiven.

II

When Loki went to the underground home of the elves to find the golden

hair for Sif, he thought that it would be as well to get two other

gifts--one for Odin and one for Freyr--so that their anger would fall

less heavily on him for his cruelty to Thor's beautiful wife. The

dwarfs were always very glad to help Loki when he was in trouble, for

they, too, delighted in mischief-making; so when he asked them for the

two other gifts, they gladly set to work. The spun-gold hair they had

already placed in Loki's hands; and now they hurried about, getting

together a hundred different materials to use in their work--for

things of earth, air, fire and water went into the making of the

wonderful gifts that came from the hands of the elves.

In a short time they handed to the waiting god a spear[19] that would

always hit the mark no matter how badly it was thrown, and a

marvellous boat[20] that would fold up into a tiny package, but could

also expand large enough to hold all the gods and goddesses in Asgard.

Loki was delighted with these gifts and hurried with them back to

Odin's council-hall where the gods had assembled to pass judgment on

him for his cruel treatment of Sif.

[19] The spear was named Gunger.

[20] The boat was named Skidbladner.

Though the hair of spun gold proved to be so perfect that Loki had

nothing to fear from Thor's anger, he saw that Odin was still

displeased and was looking at him with stern brows. So the wily god

produced his two other gifts, and handed the spear to Odin and the

boat to Freyr. Both the gods were delighted with the clever

workmanship of the elves; and all the company were so busy examining

Loki's gifts that they did not notice the dwarf Brock, who had

followed Loki to Asgard and was now standing in the shadow of Odin's

throne.

When the gods grew loud in their approval of the magic spear and boat,

Brock could contain his anger no longer and cried out: "Can you find

nothing better than those petty toys to praise? My brother Sindri can

make far more wonderful things than these." At this boastful

interference Loki grew very angry and said: "Prove it, then; for I

know that your brother is only a stupid workman. Let us make a wager

that you cannot bring here three gifts better than those you scorn;

and whichever of us loses in the contest shall pay for it with his

head." Brock accepted the challenge and set off at once to the cave

where Sindri kept his dwarfs at work night and day.

He told his brother of the wager he had made with Loki, and Sindri

laughed and promised that the god's head should hang that night in the

cave as a trophy. Then he made ready a huge fire, and as he worked

busily over his tools he bade Brock keep the bellows going as hard as

he could so that the flames would leap higher and higher. Then, when

he thought the right moment had come, he threw into the fire a

pigskin; and bidding Brock keep steadily at work on the bellows, he

left the cave.

The dwarf blew hard at the fire, and the forge gleamed so brightly

that the whole cave was lit up, and Brock could see the piles of gold

and silver and glittering gems that lay all around. Then suddenly an

enormous gadfly flew into the room; and, lighting on his hand, stung

him so badly that he roared with pain. Still he did not take his hand

from the bellows, for, with the cunning of his race, he knew that the

gadfly was none other than Loki who had taken this form, hoping to

spoil Sindri's work.

When the master-smith returned, he looked eagerly at the forge and saw

that the fire glowed as brightly as ever. So he muttered a few magic

words over the flames and drew forth a golden boar. This he handed to

his brother, saying that the boar had the power to fly through the

air, and shed light from his golden bristles as he flew. Brock was so

much pleased with this gift that he said nothing about his swollen

hand; and when Sindri asked him to keep his place at the bellows, he

willingly agreed.

The smith then threw a lump of gold into the flames; and bidding Brock

keep the fire at white heat, he again left the cave. Brock began to

work harder than ever at the bellows; and as the fire glowed so that

it seemed like daylight in the room, the gadfly flew at him and stung

him on the neck. He screamed with pain and tried to shake off his

tormentor, but still he kept faithfully at his work and never lifted

his hand a moment from the bellows. When Sindri returned, he found the

fire glowing brightly, and, leaning over it, he pulled out of the

flames a fine gold ring, which every ninth night would drop nine gold

rings as wonderful as itself.

Brock was so delighted with this gift that he almost forgot about his

wounded neck; and obediently kept his place at the bellows. Then

Sindri threw a lump of iron into the fire, and bidding his brother

work steadily at his task--for this was the most important gift of

all--he went out of the cave. Brock grasped the bellows firmly, and

began to work with all his might. Just as the flames were leaping

fiercely and the room seemed lit by a million candles, the gadfly flew

at Brock and stung him between the eyes.

The poor little dwarf was almost frantic from the pain of the wound

and from the blood that poured into his eyes. But though dazed and

blinded so that he could hardly see the fire, he kept doggedly at work

on the bellows, only lifting one hand for a moment to wipe the blood

from his eyes. The fire had been glowing like a furnace, but in that

one instant the flames burned less brightly, and Sindri--who had just

entered the room--began to berate his brother for his carelessness.

Then the smith drew out of the fire a mighty hammer, perfect in every

way except that the handle was too short, owing to Brock's having

lifted his hand a moment from the bellows.

Sindri gave the three gifts to his brother, and bade him hasten to

Asgard, and bring back the head of Loki as payment for the lost wager.

When the dwarf reached Odin's council-hall, the gods had assembled to

decide the contest, for every one was eager to see what gifts Sindri

had sent. Brock handed the ring[21A] to Odin, who praised it highly and

said, "Now, I shall never want for gold." Freyr was delighted with his

gift of the golden boar[21B] and said that it would be much more

entertaining to ride on its back than in Loki's magic boat. Lastly

Brock gave the wonderful hammer Mjölner to Thor, saying, "Here is a

hammer which can crush mountains, can cause lightning and thunder when

it swings through the air, and will always come back to your hand no

matter how far you may throw it." Then the dwarf turned to Odin and

said, "Decide now between Loki and me, O Wise One, and declare whose

gifts are worth most to Asgard."

[21A], [21B] The ring was called Draupner, and the boar

Gullinbursti.

Though the gods were reluctant to condemn one of their number in

favour of a dwarf, there was no disputing the fact that Thor's hammer

was worth more than all of Loki's gifts, for it meant a sure

protection to Asgard from the attacks of the frost-giants. So Odin

declared that Brock had won the wager, and that Loki must pay the

forfeit with his head. Now Loki had no intention of submitting to this

decree, so he first offered the dwarf a huge sum of money as a ransom;

but Brock angrily refused the gold, and insisted that the bargain

should be kept. Then Loki cried out, "Well, you must catch me first,"

and sped off on his magic shoes, which could carry him through the air

and over the water with wonderful swiftness. As Brock knew he could

never catch the fugitive, he grew black with rage, and turned upon

Odin, crying, "Is this the way that the gods keep faith, or shall the

word of Odin stand fast?" Now all the company knew well that a

promise made by even the meanest among them must be held sacred; so

Odin sent Thor after Loki. In his swift chariot, drawn by the

snow-white goats, the Thunderer easily overtook the runaway and

brought him back to Asgard. Then Loki saw that he must save his life

by cunning, and he said to Brock, "You may take my head if you wish,

but you must not touch my neck."

Now as this was obviously impossible, the dwarf knew that he was

outwitted by the crafty Loki, so he went away fuming with rage and

disappointment. But before he left Asgard, he took out of his pocket

an awl and a thong, and sewed Loki's lips together so that, for a

while at least, the tricky god could not do any more boasting.

The Binding of the Fenris Wolf

In the very beginning of time, when the gods first made the world,

there was joy and gladness not only in Asgard but over all the earth;

sin and evil were unknown, and death had not yet come even among men.

So the gods were very happy--all except Loki, who looked on with

jealous eyes at the gladness which he could not share; for he knew no

pleasure save in devising mischief. Not satisfied with grudging others

their happiness, he sought some means to bring about trouble, but

finding himself too powerless to accomplish anything alone, he married

a fierce giantess[22] and had three terrible children--Hel, the

Midgard serpent and the Fenris wolf.

[22] Her name was Angerbode.

These dreadful creatures soon grew very strong and fearful to look

upon; and Loki was not content to keep them in the dark cave in

Jötunheim with their gruesome mother, but allowed them to roam about

the earth. Soon they wearied of the narrow limits of the earth and

found no longer any pleasure in bringing terror and even death to many

lands. So Loki took them up to Asgard and begged the gods to let him

keep them there. For a while all went well, but soon the presence of

Loki's children became a menace to even the gods' safety; and they

grew fearful of Hel's deadly eyes, and the serpent's foaming mouth and

Fenrer's cruel jaws.

So one day Odin rose up from his throne, stern and wrathful, and cast

Hel down into the centre of the earth, to rule over the dark region of

the dead. Then he threw the Midgard serpent into the bottom of the

sea, where he grew larger and larger, until his huge body encircled

the whole earth. But before he could banish Fenrer, Loki came forward

and begged that the wolf might be spared and allowed to remain,

promising the gods that he would see that it did no harm. So Odin

consented, though with doubt and mistrust.

After a while the wolf became very large and fierce, and nothing

seemed to appease his savage hunger. Only Tyr, the sword-god, dared

feed him, and he wandered about Asgard growing daily more hungry, and

more cruel and terrible to see. At length Odin called the gods

together in council and said to them:--

"Fenrer is getting to be more of a menace to our lives every day, and

I no longer trust Loki's promise to guard our safety. We must

therefore find some way to control the wolf, for we cannot kill him

and so stain our shining city with his blood."

Then Thor proposed that they should bind Fenrer with a strong chain

which he himself would make; and to this plan the gods gladly agreed.

So all that night and for many days to come the sound of Thor's hammer

could be heard throughout Asgard as he forged the links of a massive

chain that should bind the Fenris wolf.[23] When it was finished, the

gods assembled before Odin, Thor carrying the heavy chain upon his

shoulders, and Loki coming up cautiously with Fenrer, who stalked

boldly beside him. No force could possibly be used with a creature so

strong and fierce, so the gods sought to gain their end by flattery,

praising the wolf's size and strength, and daring him to match it

against the strength of the chain which Thor had made.

[23] This chain was called Leding.

Now Fenrer knew far better than they how terribly strong he had

become, and therefore he willingly lay down and let them fasten the

chain around his great body, and then secure it to a rock. When this

was done, the gods breathed more freely, for it seemed as if they had

nothing to fear from the wolf any longer; but in a moment Fenrer rose,

stretched his huge limbs and shook himself once. As he did so, the

chain fell to pieces as easily as if it were made of glass. The gods

looked on in wonder and dismay, and the wolf walked off with a low,

threatening growl. Even Odin was silent with fear, for it had been

revealed to him in the runes that in the final overthrow of Asgard,

the Fenris wolf should bear a part.

Thor now came forward and begged permission to try again at making

another chain much larger and stronger than the last. The forging of

this second chain took many days and nights, for Thor tested every

link to see that it was strong and sure.[24] At last it was finished,

and brought on the shoulders of the strongest of the gods to the foot

of Odin's throne. Fenrer was again summoned, but when he saw the

chain, he refused to be bound. No flattery or coaxing could move him,

so the gods began to taunt him, laughing at his boasted strength and

accusing him of cowardice. Apparently with great reluctance, the wolf

again allowed himself to be bound; and when the chain was secured

about his shaggy body and fastened tightly to the ground, the gods

looked on, feeling fearful and yet full of joy, for surely nothing

could be stronger than the massive chain which was wound round and

round the prostrate wolf. But Fenrer rose slowly, stretched himself,

and gave one bound into the air, while the gods drew back in dismay

before the rattling shower of broken links.

[24] This chain was called Drome.

Then Odin saw that no brass or steel or any metal could withstand the

terrible strength of the wolf, and he bade Thor give up all further

attempts to forge a chain, while he had it proclaimed throughout

Asgard that Fenrer was to roam wherever he would. Shortly after this

he sent Loki on a journey far across the seas to a country so distant

from Asgard that he would have to be gone many days. Though usually

alert and suspicious, Loki set off on his errand, not dreaming that

Odin had some purpose in sending him away. As soon as he was gone,

Odin despatched Skirner, Freyr's trusty servant, with all speed to the

home of the swarthy elves, and bade him procure from them an enchanted

chain, such as they alone knew how to make. Skirner set out at once

and found his journey a safer and pleasanter one than he had expected,

for though the home of the dwarfs was underground, the road was easy

to find. Odin had instructed him to look at the base of a certain

mountain for a tiny stream of opal-tinted water. Having come to the

foot of the mountain, Skirner followed the stream to its rocky source,

and the rest of the journey was quickly made.

When he delivered his message to the elves,[25] they set immediately

to work, and for nine days and nights Skirner heard no sound in the

workshop as the little men plied their task. No stroke of hammer or

noise of anvil was necessary in the making of this wonderful chain,

for into its weaving went the strangest things that Skirner had ever

seen,--the down from a butterfly's wing, a handful of moonbeams, the

lace of a spider's web, a humming bird's lance, the breath of the

night wind and many other queer and mysterious things. The work was

all done in perfect silence, and Skirner sat by looking on in wonder

as the magic chain grew into being under the elves' skilful fingers.

At last it was finished, and with the precious gift in his hands,

Skirner hastened back to Asgard.[26]

[25] The home of the elves was in Svartalfheim.

[26] This magic chain was called Gleipnir.

Then Odin called the gods together and summoned Fenrer to come and try

his strength a third time. When the wolf saw the chain which was to

bind him, he became at once suspicious, especially when he found that

Loki was absent. He had no doubt of his power to break brass and

steel, but he scented a possible danger in the soft, fine thread which

lay in Odin's hand. As he had no one here to warn him if the gods

meant mischief, he felt that it was safer to wait until Loki was

present; so he drew away, growling and showing his teeth. At this Thor

cried out,--

"How now, Fenrer, have you used up all your strength in breaking those

heavy chains, and have not enough left to snap this slender thread?"

This taunt made the wolf growl more fiercely than ever, though he

consented a third time to be bound, demanding first, however, that one

of the gods should put his hand in the huge mouth, and leave it there

as a pledge that no magic arts were being used against him. None of

the gods wished to take such a risk, and they all drew back in dismay

except Tyr, the sword-god, who stepped boldly forward and thrust his

hand into the wolf's mouth. Then Fenrer submitted to be bound, and

allowed the gods to wind the slender thread all about him and fasten

the end to a rock. The moment it was secured, the wolf tried as before

to shake himself free, but the more he struggled and strained, the

tighter grew the magic thread, until at last Fenrer lay bound and

helpless and foaming madly with rage. Seeing that he had been tricked,

he closed his teeth savagely upon Tyr's fingers, and bit off his whole

hand. But the sword-god felt repaid for the loss of his hand since the

wolf at last was bound. Thus the gods left him securely chained to the

rock; and there he lay until the final terrible day when it was

decreed that he should break loose again, and help in bringing

destruction upon all the dwellers of Asgard.

How Thor Went Fishing

One day the gods went to a feast given by Æger the sea-god; and they

drank so much ale that before the meal was half over the vessel which

old Æger had filled was drained dry. He was greatly distressed at

finding there was not enough to drink, and he began at once to brew

more of the foaming ale. As his kettle was rather small for so great a

company, he asked Thor to find him a larger one that would better suit

the needs of the gods. To this Thor, who was always ready for any sort

of adventure, replied readily,--

"Tell me where to get the kettle, and I will fetch it, even if it is

from the very heart of Jötunheim."

Now Æger had no idea where to look for such an enormous kettle as he

needed; but just then Tyr spoke up and said:--

"My father Hymer has a kettle that is one mile deep and half a mile

wide. If Thor wishes to risk the giant's anger, he can go with me to

Hymer's castle."

So the two gods set off for their long journey in Thor's swift

goat-chariot; and though they travelled quickly over the frost-bound

country that stretched far away to the north, it was a long time

before they came to the land where Hymer and his kindred lived. Here

they had to cross two half-frozen rivers over which the goats carried

them safely, and then they came to the foot of a great ice-covered

mountain that looked as smooth as glass. Tyr advised that they go the

rest of the way on foot; so, leaving the chariot by some low fir

trees, the two gods proceeded to climb up the slippery side of the

mountain.

Almost at the top they came upon Hymer's castle, and they entered the

spacious hall where a huge fire, made of entire trees, was burning on

the hearth. Near the fire was seated Tyr's grandmother, a hideous old

giantess who did not speak to the two gods as they entered, but only

grinned horridly at them, showing her long, pointed teeth that looked

like a wolf's fangs. Beside her sat a beautiful woman spinning flax

with a golden wheel. This was Tyr's mother, who was as lovely as the

old woman was hideous, and as kind as the hag was cruel. She welcomed

her son affectionately, but warned him that both he and Thor had

better keep hidden until they found out whether Hymer was disposed to

be friendly--for when the giant was angry he was not a pleasant person

to encounter.

Late in the evening Hymer came home, tired and ill-tempered after an

unsuccessful day's fishing. He shook the snow from his clothes and

combed the ice out of his long, white beard. Then he sat down by the

fire, and while he watched the meat turn on the spit, Tyr's mother

said softly: "Our son has come to see you. Shall we welcome him to the

fire?" Before Hymer could answer, the old giantess croaked out, "And

Thor has come with him--the strongest god in Asgard and the enemy of

our race."

Hymer looked very angry as he heard this, and when his old mother

cried, "Look, they are hiding behind the furthest pillar," the giant

stared at the pillar with such a piercing look that it cracked in two.

Then the beam overhead suddenly snapped, and the kettles that were

hanging from it fell with a crash to the floor. There were eight of

these kettles, and among them was the huge one of which Tyr had spoken

to the sea-god. All of the kettles were broken by the fall except the

largest; and as Hymer was stooping to pick this up, Tyr and Thor

walked out from behind the pillar.

The giant was not very well pleased to see Thor, but as the visitor

came in company with his son, he decided to treat him civilly. So he

invited the two gods to come and eat with him, and made a place for

them by the fire. There were three oxen served for supper; and after

Thor had eaten two of them and started on a third, Hymer cried:--

"Ho, there! If you eat all our meat, you will have to catch us some

fish to-morrow." Thor laughed and replied that he was only too glad

of a chance to go fishing. So next morning when the giant set off at

sunrise, Thor went with him to the beach, and watched him get the

lines and the nets ready. "If I am to catch the fish, will you give me

some bait?" he asked, and Hymer replied with a growl, "Go and find

some for yourself."

So Thor went over to the meadow where the giant's cattle were grazing,

and, seizing the largest bull by the neck, he wrung off its head, and

carried this down to the boat. Hymer was very angry at this treatment

of his property, but he said nothing, only bade Thor take the oars.

Then he gave the boat a great shove, and sprang in with such violence

that the whole craft was almost overturned.

Under Thor's quick strokes the boat shot over the water like an arrow,

and the giant looked a bit surprised to see how well his companion

could pull. With every dip of the oars the boat gathered speed, and

they very soon reached Hymer's fishing ground. He then called to Thor

to stop rowing, but the god only shook his head and pulled all the

harder. In a few moments they were out of sight of land, and the boat

was swinging heavily in the trough of the sea. Hymer begged Thor not

to go any farther, but the god laughed and said,--

"There is much better fishing a few miles ahead." Then he bent hard at

the oars, and the boat flew over the waves with incredible swiftness.

Soon Hymer began to be frightened, and called loudly, "If you go much

farther, we shall be over the Midgard serpent."

Now this was just what Thor intended; so he kept on rowing until they

were just over the spot where the huge snake lay coiled at the bottom

of the ocean with his tail in his mouth. Then Thor drew in his oars

and began to bait his line with the bull's head. Hymer had his things

all ready for fishing, and as soon as he dropped his line into the sea

the bait was grabbed with a sudden jerk which nearly toppled the giant

overboard. Regaining his balance, he proudly pulled up out of the

water two whales, and flung them in the boat. Then Thor threw out his

line, and in a moment the whole sea was in an uproar, for the bait had

been seized by the Midgard serpent and the hook was now caught fast in

its great mouth.

When Thor felt the terrible pull on his line, he grasped it with all

his might, and braced himself against the side of the boat. The

serpent was indeed a match for him in strength, and Thor--to prevent

being dragged out into the water--set himself with such force against

the framework of the boat that his feet broke right through, and he

found himself standing on the bottom of the sea. Here he could take

such firm hold that he was able to draw the serpent up to the edge of

the boat. The monster lashed the waves fiercely with its tail, and

churned the water into foam as it writhed about in its efforts to get

free from the torturing hook. Its great head rose above the boat's

side, and in its struggles the beast looked more terrifying than when

its glittering eyes and great coiled body frightened the dwellers in

Asgard.

But Thor was determined not to let the serpent go, so he only pulled

the harder and the sea became a great whirlpool of blood and foam and

tossing waves. Hymer, who had been looking on in amazement at Thor's

strength, now sprang forward and cut the line just as the god was

raising his hammer to crush the monster's head. The Midgard serpent

immediately sank out of sight, and Thor--wrathful at Hymer's

interference--struck the giant such a blow that he tumbled headlong

into the sea. In a moment, however, he had scrambled back into the

boat, and bade Thor take up the oars and row back to land. When they

reached the shore, Hymer slung the two whales over his shoulder, and

carried them up to his castle. Thor, having no fish, picked up the

boat, and brought it along with him.

As soon as they were seated again by the fire, Hymer challenged his

guest to prove his great strength by breaking a certain drinking-cup.

Thor took the cup and threw it against the furthest stone pillar. It

struck with a terrific crash, but--much to Thor's surprise--it fell to

the ground unbroken. Then he hurled it at the massive granite wall,

but it bounded back like a ball, and dropped at his feet. Thor looked

very disconcerted as he stared at the uncracked surface of the cup;

and, as he was about to own himself defeated, he heard a soft voice

say, "Throw it at Hymer's head."

Though he knew that this kindly advice was given by Tyr's mother, he

did not dare to turn and thank her, but he took up the cup and dashed

it at Hymer's forehead. Terrific as the blow was, it did not seem to

harm the giant at all, but the cup was shattered in a thousand pieces.

The giant was very angry at having lost his wager; but he was now so

thoroughly afraid of Thor's great strength and cunning that he made no

objection when Tyr asked for the great kettle to carry back to the

sea-god Æger. "Take it then, if you must," he growled sullenly. Tyr

made the first attempt to lift the kettle, but he could not so much as

raise it from the ground. Thor, however, picked it up with great ease

and set it on his head like a helmet. Then he marched boldly out of

Hymer's castle with Tyr following close behind him.

They had not gone very far down the mountain when Tyr, looking back,

cried out that they were being pursued. And true enough, right at

their heels was Hymer with a great company of giants ready to fall

upon them. Thor did not even lift the kettle from his shoulders, but

he swung Mjölner around his head until the lightning flashed and the

thunder shook the hills. Then he rushed at the giants, hurling the

hammer right and left; and in a short time not one of the pursuers

remained alive. Then Thor and Tyr resumed their journey, and soon came

to the spot where the goat-chariot was waiting. This bore them swiftly

to Æger's palace, and the gods laughed merrily when they saw Thor

enter with the kettle on his head. That night there was such a mighty

brewing of ale that it seemed as if none of the company could ever be

thirsty again.

The Building of the Fortress

Although the gods had felt less fear of the frost-giants since the

mighty Mjölner had been given to Thor, they were often very anxious

when the Thunderer was obliged--as he sometimes was--to go off on a

long journey. Then Asgard was left quite unprotected; for although the

gods were brave and strong fighters, they would be no match for the

frost-giants if their old enemies came against them in great numbers.

So they wished very much for some assurance of safety in Thor's

absence; and the best protection would undoubtedly be a high stone

fortress that would encircle the whole of Asgard. But who was to build

it?

Even if some of the gods were willing to undertake such a long,

difficult task, who among them could spare the time for it, and who

could lift the heavy stones that would be needed for the work? It

seemed therefore as if the hope of having a fortress must be given up,

for even Loki's quick wit could devise nothing; but one morning

Heimdall, who guarded the rainbow bridge, blew a loud blast on his

horn to announce the approach of a stranger. When Odin looked down

from his throne, he saw a huge figure standing beside Heimdall, and

he knew at once that his visitor was one of the frost-giants. He

stepped down from his golden throne, and, crossing the many-coloured

Bifrost, he stood before the stranger.

"What do you seek here in sunny Asgard?" he asked.

"I am a master-builder," replied the giant, "and I have been told that

you needed a clever mason to build you a fortress. Give me the work to

do and you shall have a strong wall about your shining city."

Now Odin knew that no word about the proposed fortress had ever been

breathed outside of Asgard; but he knew also that it was useless to

make any denial, for the frost-giants, with their mysterious wisdom,

had somehow learned the truth. So he said to the stranger: "We _do_

need a fortress. Can you build one strong enough to resist any

attack?"

"That I can," replied the giant, quickly. "And when my work is

finished, I will promise you that all the forces in the universe could

not move one stone from the wall."

"How long will it take you to build the fortress?" asked Odin.

"Just one year--which is a very short allowance of time for so great a

task," answered the giant.

"And what payment do you ask for your work?"

"My wages must be the sun and moon and Freya for my wife," cried the

giant, boldly.

This demand astonished and angered Odin; but, remembering how much he

was in need of such help as the giant could give, he concealed his

wrath under soft words and bade the master-builder come the next day

for his answer.

When Odin called the gods together in the great council-hall and told

them what the frost-giant demanded as payment for his work, a murmur

of disapproval arose. Soon all the company cried out against making so

dreadful a sacrifice; for it would be cruel to deliver the beautiful

Freya to the arms of a giant. It was impossible to lose the maiden who

was the light and joy of Asgard, and it was equally impossible to take

the sun and moon from the heavens and compel the helpless earth to sit

forever in darkness. So the gods decided to tell the giant that they

would not accept his terms. Just then Loki spoke up.

"Let my wit and cunning--which you always condemn--find a way out of

the difficulty. We will agree to the builder's demands, but you may

trust me to see that he does not get a single one of the things he

covets."

The gods were apt to doubt Loki's wisdom, and they always distrusted

his motives; but they knew that his craftiness and trickery often

helped him in his own difficulties, and they were now willing to use

any means that offered a way out of their trouble. So they listened to

Loki's plans, and next day, when the giant came for his answer, Odin

told him that the gods would accept his terms if he would promise to

build the fortress in a single winter. He was also to agree to give up

his claims if the work was not finished by the first day of summer.

The giant was not pleased with these conditions, and he grumbled a

great deal about the short time that was given him. He promised,

however, to undertake the building of the fortress, and agreed to have

it finished by the first day of summer if he could have his horse to

help him in his work. Now Loki was not present when the giant made

this request; but Odin saw no reason why it should not be granted, so

he told the builder to come the next day at sunrise and bring his

horse with him. When Loki saw how the giant was going to be helped in

the work, he was not so certain that his own wit could save the day;

for the helper which the builder brought was an immense horse named

Svadilfare, who could work night and day. This wonderful creature not

only dragged the great blocks of stone for the building, but also set

them in place with his strong fore-legs. The gods looked on in dismay

as they saw how fast the work progressed, and berated Loki for having

induced them to accept the giant's offer.

The long winter wore on, and the fortress grew as if by magic. The

giant worked steadily without taking a moment to rest, and the

wonderful Svadilfare brought pile after pile of huge stones to the

spot where the builder was toiling with might and main. A few days

before the end of the winter the work was all finished except one

large slab that was to form the top of the gateway. The gods were now

so alarmed at the prospect of having to pay the giant his extortionate

wages that they threatened Loki with the direst punishments if he did

not find some way out of the difficulty.

So that night as Svadilfare was wearily dragging to the gateway the

last stone that was to complete the fortress, Loki changed himself

into a pretty little mare; and, trotting up to the great horse,

said--in perfect equine language--"Why must you work so hard when

there are yet three days in which to lay this stone? Come with me for

a romp in the meadows. You can be back again before your master

returns."

Now Svadilfare knew that he ought not to leave his work; but his

master was absent and he was very tired, and there was plenty of time

to lay this last stone. So when the little mare trotted away still

calling to him, he kicked off his harness and galloped delightedly

after her. When the giant came to view the last of the work, one great

stone lay by the unfinished gateway and the horse was nowhere to be

seen. Believing that the gods had purposely hidden him in Asgard, he

demanded the right to search the city; but no print of Svadilfare's

feet were to be seen on the unmarred streets of gold. Then the giant

rushed madly over the earth, and so heavy was his tread that the

dwellers in Midgard awoke at night in terror, fearing that an

earthquake was shaking the ground beneath them. Into the remotest

corners of the earth and even as far as Jötunheim the giant searched

for his missing horse; but he never found the secret grove where Loki

was in hiding with Svadilfare. When the builder at last returned to

Asgard, the first day of summer had dawned, and, by the terms of the

agreement, he had forfeited his wages.

The gods had assembled just inside the fortress; and when the giant

came raging toward them they were glad that Thor had returned from his

long journey and now stood among them with the mighty Mjölner in his

hand. The builder knew that in some way he had been tricked into

losing his wager; so when Odin demanded that he should leave Asgard

and not trouble the gods any further, he flew into a terrible rage and

cried,--

"If this fortress were not so strongly built, I would pull it to

pieces so that you might not mock me." Then he rushed past the

assembled company and into the many-pillared hall of Valhalla, crying:

"Not for nothing does a frost-giant stand within the walls of Asgard.

Your palaces are not built to stand forever, and I will send them

crashing about your heads."

As he spoke, he grasped two of the pillars in his powerful arms, and

it is probable that the beautiful building would have fallen if Thor

had not rushed forward at this moment and struck the giant such a blow

with his hammer that the builder's head was shattered in a thousand

pieces. Then the huge body toppled headlong over the rainbow bridge,

and kept on falling until at last it sank into the fathomless gulf

that borders on the Land of Mists.

Thus the gods obtained their much-needed fortress, and Freya stayed

happily in Asgard. There was now a sure protection against the

invasion of the frost-giants; but over the gateway, one stone was

always lacking, for no one among the gods was strong enough to set it

into place.

How the Hammer Was Lost and Found

The mighty hammer Mjölner was not only a protection to Asgard, but

served to keep the frost-giants from doing harm to the earth. This

whole race hated brightness, and were not content to live themselves

in a land of ice and snow and mist, but tried to make all the world

like their own dreary country. They longed to take the sunlight from

the earth, to kill the flowers and cover every green thing with a

mantle of blighting frost. They would have done all this if they had

not been afraid of Thor's hammer, for whenever they strayed too far

from Jötunheim and tried to nip the leaves and flowers with their icy

fingers, Thor would drive them out of Midgard with his hammer; and the

thunder and lightning would follow hard upon them until they were once

more within the limits of their frozen hills.

One day Thor came back from a long journey, and being very tired he

dropped down on the steps of his palace and fell into a heavy sleep.

When at length he awoke, he found to his horror and dismay that

Mjölner was no longer in his hand or by his side. Some one must have

come while he was sleeping and stolen it away. Thor felt certain that

it was one of the frost-giants, for none of the gods, not even the

mischief-loving Loki, would have dared to commit this theft. But no

one had seen any of the giants lurking about Asgard, and Odin's ravens

had not met with them in their flights to and from the earth. Yet it

must have been some one of their ancient enemies who had stolen

Mjölner, and therefore the hammer must be recovered speedily or the

whole race of giants would soon come to take possession of Asgard now

that its chief means of defence was gone. So Thor went in haste to

Loki and begged him to devise some plan to recover the hammer.

"I will go myself," said Loki, "and see if I can find out who has

stolen Mjölner. Perhaps we can regain it before it is too late, for

the thief may not yet have spread the news of its capture to his

kindred." Thor was ready to welcome any suggestion, so he readily

agreed to this plan, and Loki hurried off to the flower-filled garden

where Freya was wont to walk.[27] He told the goddess of the theft of

Mjölner and begged her to lend him her falcon plumage so that he might

waste no time in his search. Freya gladly gave him her feathery

disguise, and Loki sped northward across the frozen sea until he came

to Jötunheim. He shivered continually under his delicate plumage, for

this ice-bound land with its snow-covered mountains wrapped in the

cold of eternal winter was different indeed from sunny Asgard.

[27] Freya's palace was called Folkvang. She sometimes drove

in a chariot drawn by cats. From her name comes our word

Friday.

He walked for a long time without meeting any one, but at last he

found the giant Thrym seated on the side of a mountain, counting his

flock of sheep. The giant was very ugly, and he was also terribly big

and strong, but Loki felt no fear of him. He perched on a rock beside

Thrym, who looked at him craftily a moment and then said, "Why does

Loki try to deceive those who know more than the gods?"

Seeing that his disguise would now be of little service, Loki assumed

his own form, and drawing nearer to the giant greeted him in turn as a

friend. Thrym did not seem at all surprised at seeing a god in

Jötunheim; but he looked rather uneasily around, and went on counting

his sheep without replying to Loki's greeting. The cunning god then

instantly surmised that here was the thief who had taken Thor's

hammer; so, in threatening tones, he accused the giant of the theft,

and demanded that Mjölner be at once returned. It was a bold stroke,

but it did not deceive Thrym in the least, for he knew that Loki was

making mere empty threats, since Mjölner was no longer in Asgard.

Then Loki made the giant many promises of rich rewards from Odin, and

told him of the good-will which all the gods would have for him if he

returned the hammer to Thor. At this Thrym began to laugh, and he

laughed so loud that the trees upon the mountain shook. Then he tore

up by the roots a huge oak tree and threw it like a straw into the

sea, and turning to Loki said: "You will never find that hammer,

friend Loki, for I have buried it nine fathoms in the earth, and

neither you nor Thor shall ever see it again. Yet, if you really need

the hammer as a protection to your city, there is one condition on

which I return it. You must give me the beautiful Freya for my wife."

This proposal rather staggered Loki, for he knew how impossible such a

thing was. But he said nothing, only bade Thrym good-by and hastened

back to Asgard.

When Loki reported to Odin the result of his journey, the gods held a

council to decide what it was best to do. Of course it was out of the

question to try to induce Freya to become Thrym's wife, and Odin could

not feel justified in demanding such a sacrifice. When the maiden

herself learned of the giant's proposal, she grew so angry at the

insult that the necklace of stars which she wore around her slender

throat broke; and as the shining pieces fell through the air, people

in Midgard exclaimed with delight at the shooting stars.

Since it was impossible to think of yielding Freya to a giant even to

recover Mjölner, the gods tried to form some other plan, and again

they turned to Loki for help, for he alone was clever enough to outwit

the giant.

"There is no way to get the hammer," said Loki, "except by giving

Thrym a bride; and since we cannot send any of the goddesses to the

cold northland, we must find the giant another wife. Let us dress up

Thor like a woman and send him instead."

"Never," roared Thor; "I should be the laughing-stock of every one in

Asgard."

"Nonsense," replied Loki, who rather enjoyed having Thor at his mercy;

"and what if you were? Is that anything compared to seeing the whole

race of frost-giants at the gates of Asgard? If something is not done

very soon, they will be ruling here in our places."

The situation was indeed so critical that at length Thor consented to

the plan, though much against his will. So Loki put on him a rich robe

embroidered with gold, and wound a chain about his neck and put a

beautiful girdle at his waist. Then he threw over Thor's head a long

bridal-veil, while he attired himself as a waiting maid to attend the

bride. The gods harnessed Thor's milk-white goats to the chariot, and

together Thor and Loki set out for the frost-giants' country. It was

very difficult to restrain the pretended bride from thrusting her

sinewy hands from under the veil, and Loki feared that even a

love-lorn giant would not be fooled into believing that those massive

shoulders belonged to a maiden.

When Thrym beheld the bridal party coming, he was filled with joy and

ran to meet them. He wished very much to raise the bride's veil, but

Loki forbade him until after the wedding ceremony.

"The goddess Freya who has come to be your wife is very timid," said

Loki, "and you must not distress her with your attentions, or she may

grow frightened and wish to return to Asgard." So Thrym obeyed Loki's

command, and led the bride to his palace, where his kinsmen were

assembled. There they found the tables spread with meat and wine as if

for a feast. Thrym urged his bride to partake of the fruits and

delicacies which had been brought especially for her, and with some

show of reluctance the supposed woman began to eat. First she devoured

eight large salmon, then twelve roasted birds, and soon followed this

up with eating a whole ox and drinking three barrels of mead.

"Did ever a maiden eat like this one?" thought the giants, and in

their hearts they pitied Thrym for getting such a wife. When they

spoke of the bride's appetite to Loki, he replied, "It is eight days

since Freya has eaten anything, for she was so overjoyed at wedding

Thrym, that she could not touch any food." Thrym was too happy to

notice what the bride ate, and when the feast was over he cried to his

brother, "Bring hither the hammer Mjölner and place it in the bride's

lap; then let us be wedded in the name of Var."

So the hammer was brought and placed in Thor's hand; but the minute

his fingers closed around it he tore the veil from his face, and the

terrified giants beheld, not the mild countenance of Freya, but the

face of the Thunderer himself. It was too late now to escape, and the

giants were so frightened that they could not move, even if they had

known where to flee from the fierce anger that blazed in Thor's eyes.

He had barely swung the hammer twice around his head when thunder and

lightning was mingled with the crash of falling buildings; and those

of the giants who were not killed by the blows of the hammer were

buried beneath the crumbling ruins. Thus did Mjölner return at last to

Asgard.

Iduna's Apples

Though sorrow sometimes came to the people of Asgard and they shared

the burden of grief and trouble that afflicted the human race, yet as

gods they had one privilege which belonged to them alone,--the

blessing of eternal youth. Sickness and old age never came within the

gates of Asgard; and this was because the goddess Iduna had some very

wonderful apples which gave, to those who ate of them, the strength

and beauty of youth.

In appearance they were very much like other apples, of a beautiful

red and gold; but when the gods had eaten of them they knew that such

fruit could not be found anywhere outside of Asgard. For no other

apples except those in Iduna's casket could bestow eternal youth and

the power to defy all sickness and pain.

The goddess herself was very proud of her treasures, and proud, too,

of the confidence which Odin placed in her in making her the guardian

of a thing so priceless. The casket in which she kept the apples had

only a single key, and this Iduna kept fastened to her girdle.

Wherever she went she carried the precious casket with her, and never

let it be for a moment out of her sight. The gods felt no uneasiness

while the apples were in such safe keeping, and there seemed to be no

reason why they should ever lose the beauty and health and youth which

had always been theirs. But one day both Iduna and her golden apples

disappeared from Asgard, and no one knew where they had gone,--no one

but Loki, and he would not tell. This is how it happened.

Odin and Loki and Hœnir once went on a visit to the land of the

frost-giants to find out, if possible, whether they were plotting any

new invasion of Asgard. It was an uncomfortable journey, for the air

was bitterly cold and the ground hard and frozen, so there was no

pleasure in travelling. They even felt rather sorry for the people who

were condemned to live forever in such a cheerless country. They were

hungry, too, and could find nothing to eat; no game to kill, no fish

to catch, not even any wild berries upon the barren hillsides. So Odin

proposed that they return at once to Asgard; but just then Loki saw a

herd of cows grazing near by, and exclaimed:--

"Here is meat in abundance. Let us eat before we set out again on our

journey."

Then he killed the fattest of the cows, and bore it on his shoulder to

the spot where Odin and Hœnir were already building a fire. They cut

the meat and put it upon a spit; and while Loki turned it, the two

others piled logs upon the fire. Now and then they tasted the flesh,

thinking it must be cooked; but each time it was as raw as when they

had first cut it. Then Odin threw on more logs, and the heat became so

intense that the gods could hardly stand near it. Still the meat

remained uncooked. All night long they took turns cooking and tending

the fire; but morning found them hungrier than ever, and with yet no

prospect of a meal. This was too much for even the good-natured Hœnir,

while Loki became so angry that he would have killed the whole herd of

cows and thrown them into the sea out of mere spite. But Odin laughed

and said:--

"Nay, Loki, do not let us vent our anger so foolishly. We will return,

rather, to Asgard, and tell the gods that, in spite of the drink from

Mimir's well, the frost-giants are yet wiser than Odin." For he knew

that it was through some mysterious intervention of their old enemy

that they could not enjoy the much-needed dinner.

Just then there came a loud noise and a whirring of wings overhead,

and, looking up, they saw a large eagle hovering above them.

"Ha, ha," he cried, "so you cannot cook your dinner, I see. The meat

must be tough indeed that will not yield to such a fire. But give me

your promise that you will share the feast with me, and I will pledge

you to get it cooked."

The gods promised very gladly, and the eagle, moving nearer, said,--

"Stand aside and let me blow up the fire."

Suspecting nothing, the gods moved away, and as they did so the eagle

swooped down, and, seizing in his strong claws all the meat that was

on the spit, he began to flap his huge wings and rise slowly into the

air.

When the gods saw that the eagle meant to trick them, they grew very

angry, and Loki, hoping to snatch his prize from the treacherous

giant,--for that was what the thief really was,--grasped one end of

the spit as it rose into the air and tried to drag it downward. But

the eagle's strength was greater than the god's, and he flew higher

and higher, carrying the luckless Loki with him. Up they soared, far

above the heads of the bewildered Hœnir and Odin, who were helpless to

rescue their comrade, and could only stand by and watch him

disappearing from view. Over the frozen sea and the snow-covered

mountains the eagle carried the unhappy Loki, not pausing in his

flight until they reached a huge iceberg. Here he stopped, and dropped

Loki upon the ground, where the bruised and weary god was glad to

rest; for the eagle had dragged him over ice and snow, sharp stones

and frost-bound stubble that stung like so many thorns.

The moment the bird alighted it was no longer an eagle, but the giant

Thiassi, who grinned maliciously and said,--

"How do you like flying, friend Loki?"

Loki was in such a rage that he was tempted to try to hurl the giant

from the iceberg. He knew, however, that this would only shut him off

from a speedy return to his companions, so he restrained his anger and

said:--

"You can indeed rival the gods in swiftness, and I should be glad to

journey farther with you, but Odin demands my return to Asgard. Take

me back to him, therefore, with all speed."

The giant laughed at Loki's assumed boldness, and answered: "The gods

are great indeed, but the frost-giants have no fear of them. Odin may

need you in Asgard, but you shall not return except on one

condition--that you promise to deliver into my power the goddess Iduna

and her golden apples."

For some time Loki did not answer, for he hardly dared to make such a

promise, since the loss of Iduna from Asgard would mean old age and

possible death to the gods. Still, he did not intend to remain any

longer on the iceberg. Knowing well the stubborn persistence of the

whole race of giants, he felt that cajolery and threats were alike

useless, so he said,--

"I will promise."

The giant knew Loki's reputation for cunning, and therefore he

demanded that the god should swear by Odin's spear to keep his

promise. Loki did this, though with great reluctance, and the giant

then assumed his eagle plumage and carried the god swiftly back to the

place where Odin and Hœnir were still standing by the burnt-out fire.

In answer to their questions, Loki told them of his strange journey,

but made no mention of his promise to the giant. Then the three gods

returned to Asgard.

Some time later, Loki went to the palace of Iduna and asked to see her

apples. The goddess willingly brought out her casket, for she never

wearied of looking at the precious fruit; but as she handed Loki the

apples, she said,--

"It is strange indeed for you to care so much for beauty--or is it

that life is aging you more quickly than the others of Asgard, and you

need still another of Iduna's apples?"

"Nay," replied Loki, "it is not for that reason that I desire to see

your beautiful fruit; but because I wish to assure myself that they

are really the best apples in the world."

"Why, where would you find such as these?" asked Iduna in surprise.

"Just beyond the gates of Asgard," answered Loki, "is a wonderful tree

which bears fruit in all respects like these apples you prize so

highly. I think they look even fresher, and as I tasted them I felt

sure that they were finer in flavour than any you have here. It is a

pity you cannot go and see them."

"Is it far from here?" asked the goddess, wistfully.

"No, indeed," replied Loki; "just outside the city gates. It would be

such a delight to you to see them, for they are so fine as they hang

in the sunlight, and so easy to reach, too. Some day I will tell you

more about them, but now I must be away, for Odin has a commission for

me to-day." So saying, he took his departure, and Iduna was left

alone.

For a long time she thought over what Loki had said, and the longing

grew very strong to go and see those apples which he had declared were

even finer than her own. She dared not go away and leave her casket

behind; but there surely could be no harm in taking it with her just a

little way outside the gates of Asgard. Still she was doubtful and

troubled, and wished that her husband, Bragi, were at home, that she

might ask his advice. For a long time she hesitated, but at last her

curiosity grew too strong to be resisted, and with her casket on her

arm she left the palace and hurried outside the city gates.

She looked carefully all about her, but she saw no tree such as Loki

had described. Discouraged and disappointed, she was about to return

home, when she heard a loud noise overhead, and, looking up, saw a

large eagle flying toward her. In a moment he had rushed down upon

her, and before the terrified goddess realized what had happened, he

had caught her up in his strong claws, and was carrying her above the

tree tops. In vain did she scream and struggle, for the eagle soared

higher and higher, carrying her far out of sight of Asgard. He flew

straight as an arrow across the mountains and over the frozen sea till

he came to his home in the dreary northland. Here he took the form of

the terrible giant Thiassi and began to beg the goddess for one of her

apples. Iduna, frightened and trembling, kept the precious key of the

casket clasped tight in her hand, and boldly refused to betray her

trust by giving the giant even a sight of the apples. So Thiassi shut

her up in his ice-walled palace[28] and kept her there many days, not

caring though she grew pale and sick with longing to return to sunny

Asgard.

[28] Called Thrymheim.

Meantime, the gods were greatly troubled at the sudden disappearance

of Iduna; and her husband, Bragi, sought her, sorrowing, over all the

earth. No one had seen her leave Asgard, and none knew where she had

gone or when she would return,--none save Loki, and he very wisely

kept silent. At first the gods did not realize what the loss of Iduna

and her apples meant to them; but as time went on and they felt

weariness and old age creeping over them, they were filled with fear

lest the goddess might never return, and there would be no longer any

way to keep Death without the gates of Asgard. Odin's calm brow now

became clouded, for not even his great wisdom was of any help in

solving the mystery of Iduna's strange disappearance. The ravens,

flying far and wide each day, brought no news of the missing goddess;

and meanwhile Time was leaving its unwelcome marks on the faces of the

gods and goddesses. Frigga's hair began to turn white, and wrinkles

furrowed the fair cheeks of Freya. The mighty Mjölner now trembled in

the unsteady hand of Thor, and the feeble fingers of Bragi could no

longer draw sweet music from his harp; in fact, all the dwellers in

Asgard were growing old, and there was no way for them to renew their

youth.

One day the ravens whispered to Odin that he should question Loki in

regard to Iduna's disappearance, and Loki was summoned to appear

before Odin's throne. When accused of knowing something of the missing

goddess, he at first stoutly denied all knowledge of her; but Odin's

look seemed to search his thoughts, and he saw that lying and deceit

were of no avail. So he told all that he had done, and begged Odin's

forgiveness. He promised to set out at once in search of the stolen

goddess, and swore that he would not return to Asgard until he had

found her and had brought Iduna and her apples safely home again.

Once more he borrowed the falcon plumage of Freya and flew over to the

frozen northland to the place where the giant kept Iduna a prisoner in

his ice palace. He found her sitting alone and weeping bitterly; but

Loki wasted no time in trying to comfort her. She was so overjoyed

when the god assumed his own form and told her why he had come that

she even forgave him for the misery he had led her into by his

treachery. She said that fortunately Thiassi was off on his daily walk

across the hills; but Loki, wishing to take all precautions, again put

on his falcon plumage, and, by his magic arts, changed the goddess

into a nut which he grasped firmly in his talons. Then, being warned

by Iduna that the giant never remained long away, he flew with her

straight toward Asgard.

They had not gone far when Thiassi came home; and when he found Iduna

gone, he knew that some of the gods must have come to her rescue.

Nevertheless he determined not to lose her so easily; and taking the

form of an eagle he flew high up into the air and looked about for

some sign of the fugitive. Far in the distance he saw a moving speck

among the clouds, and he followed quickly in pursuit. As he drew

nearer he saw the falcon and its burden, and he knew that Iduna was

being carried back to Asgard. So he redoubled his speed, and his great

wings brought him rapidly nearer the falcon, whose laboured flight

seemed to make an escape from the enemy impossible.

At Asgard the gods had assembled on the city walls, and they were now

looking anxiously across the earth, fearing that some misfortune had

overtaken Loki. At last they saw the falcon flying toward them, and

they felt sure that this was Loki returning with his precious charge.

But with the joy of this discovery came also a sudden fear as they saw

the eagle following close behind the falcon, and seemingly in hot

pursuit. These fears were confirmed as the birds drew nearer; and then

the gods realized that if they would save Loki and Iduna, something

must be done at once. Nearer and nearer came the falcon; but though

his flight was swift, he could not keep the pace of his pursuer, and

the eagle was steadily gaining on him. By this time the gods had built

a great pile of wood on the city walls and were waiting until the

falcon with his priceless burden had flown across it. The moment Loki

passed, they quickly set fire to the wood; and as the eagle came

rushing blindly on, he flew directly over the flames, which caught his

feathers and drew him down into the fire, burning him to death.

Iduna and her apples were safe at last in Asgard, and to celebrate her

return Odin made a great feast in his palace hall, and the gods ate

again of the golden fruit and became young and beautiful once more.

How Thor's Pride Was Brought Low