PART II

The way to the palace was quickly found, and here the two gods were

welcomed by the king. Utgard-Loke sat upon a lordly throne, surrounded

by a company of giants so much larger than the others of this race

which had from time to time made threatening visits to Asgard that

Thor felt glad of the possession of Mjölner. When the travellers

entered his halls, the king greeted them kindly and asked the object

of their journey. Thor told him boldly that he had come to measure his

strength against that of the giants, and Utgard-Loke courteously

replied: "We have heard many tales of the might of Thor, the defender

of Asgard; but we hope to show him that the frost-giants are no

unworthy opponents. Before we begin our tests of strength, however, I

will ask one of our youths to meet your servant in some game of skill.

Do you choose what it shall be."

Now Thor knew that Thialfi was a very swift runner, so he answered

that his servant would run a race with any one of the king's young

men. Utgard-Loke then called to a tall, slender youth named Hugi, and

bade him make ready for the race. The company adjourned to an open

meadow, and here the runners met to test their skill. Thialfi shot

over the ground like an arrow sent by the practised bowman; but Hugi

quickly outdistanced him and came first to the goal.

The gods were surprised and angry at the ease with which Hugi gained

the victory; but when the king asked to have a second race, Thor

eagerly agreed, and again Thialfi ran his swiftest. But although he

flew with the lightness and speed of a race-horse, he found Hugi

waiting for him at the end of the course.

Then Utgard-Loke said, "You are a good runner, Thialfi, but you need

to put more speed in your feet before you can rival Hugi." Now Thor's

servant was almost breathless from his running, and he was also very

tired; but the king's tone seemed so insulting that he insisted upon a

third trial. Again the two contestants ran over the course, but this

time Hugi gave Thialfi the start of half a mile. In spite of this

advantage, however, the young giant passed his competitor like the

rush of the wind, and Thialfi lost the race a third time.

As the company had had enough of racing, they returned to the palace;

and Thor, feeling angry and ashamed at his servant's defeat, began to

wish he had never come to Jötunheim. Then Utgard-Loke asked his guests

if either of them cared to challenge one of his men at an eating

contest, and Loki eagerly accepted this chance to prove his ability.

"I can eat more than any two of this company," he cried boastfully,

and gave a loud laugh of scorn when an immense trough full of meat was

brought into the room and placed before him. Then the king summoned

Logi to contend with the brother of Odin, and he and Loki sat one at

each end of the trough.

There was surely never such eating seen before in all the world. Loki

devoured the food so fast that it seemed as if he would finish all

that was set before him in less than a minute; but when he came to the

middle of the great dish, he found that Logi had not only eaten his

own share, but had finished up the meat and bones and trough all

together.

"Now let us see what the mightiest of the gods can do," said the king,

as Loki withdrew to the furthest end of the hall. Thor had been

looking on gloomily at Loki's failure; but the king's tone roused up

all his anger, and he stepped boldly forward, saying, "I will

undertake to empty in one draught any drinking horn that you can place

before me." So Utgard-Loke commanded his men to bring out a great

drinking horn, and as he handed it to Thor the king said: "Here is a

cup which the youngest among us can empty in three draughts. A strong

man needs to quaff it twice, but a mighty warrior such as you should

finish it all at one drinking." The king's tone was so insulting that

Thor felt his fingers tighten on the handle of his hammer, and he

longed to hurl it at Utgard-Loke's head; but he took the horn and set

it to his lips.

He drank long and deeply until he felt sure that he had drained every

drop of the liquid; but when he looked into the horn, he saw that it

was but half emptied. "What is the trouble, is the drink too large for

the Mighty One of Asgard?" asked Utgard-Loke, contemptuously. At these

words Thor flew into a great rage, and, grasping the horn more

tightly, he drank as he had never drunk before. Then he set the vessel

down, feeling sure that it must now be empty; but he found to his

surprise that it was hardly less full than before he began to drink. A

loud laugh of derision greeted him, and the king cried scornfully: "Is

this the great skill in drinking of which you boasted so freely? The

emptying of this horn should be but child's play; but perhaps the

mighty Thor is weary."

"Give me the horn," roared the angry god, who was raging inwardly at

having to endure these taunts. So a third time Thor drank; and when he

stopped to take breath, he threw the horn aside, not waiting to look

down into it, for he felt certain that there could not be a drop left

in it. But one of the giants caught it up and showed him how much of

the liquid still remained. Enraged at this unexpected humiliation,

Thor refused to drink any longer, and would barely listen when

Utgard-Loke asked him if he would engage in any trial of strength. "We

will propose a game which is a favourite pastime among our children,

so the defender of Asgard will be able to do the thing with ease. It

is merely to lift my cat from the ground."

These words so infuriated Thor that he strode angrily out of the hall,

but before he had gone far, he encountered a huge bunch of bristling

fur that effectively barred his way. His first impulse was to strike

the cat with his hammer, but remembering Utgard-Loke's insulting

words, he grasped the great creature by the middle, intending to throw

it aside. But though he tried with all the strength of his powerful

arm to move the cat, he could not stir it from its place; and the

higher he sought to lift it, the higher it arched its back without

ever raising one foot from the ground. Thor's arm was now lifted as

high as it would go, but he could not budge the great cat an inch. So

at last he let go his hold and turned to meet the scornful laughter of

the whole company of giants.

"Is this the strength we have been taught to fear?" cried Utgard-Loke.

"Surely the gods do not call so puny a fellow as this the defender of

Asgard. Perhaps Thor is only mocking us, however, and will prove his

boasted strength in some worthier contest."

"Give me a chance to wrestle with the strongest giant among you, and I

will soon show you whether my strength can be scorned!" cried Thor,

who was longing to hurl his hammer at the king's head and make him

cease his insulting words.

"Your boasting has all been idle," said Utgard-Loke, looking sternly

at the angry god, "so I will not match you against our strongest men.

But here comes my old nurse, Ellie, and you may try a wrestle with

her."

Thor looked around as a shrivelled old woman, bent and toothless,

hobbled feebly into the hall. Her sightless eyes seemed to blink with

an almost supernatural intelligence as she made her way straight

toward the spot where the god was standing. "Do not scorn to wrestle

with old Ellie," cried the king, "for she has got the better of many a

strong man before now."

So Thor grasped the hag firmly and tried to throw her to the ground,

but she gripped his body with her thin arms and clung to him with such

amazing strength that he had to exert all his force to keep from being

strangled. The more he struggled, the tighter grew the old woman's

hold, and even his arm which held the hammer was rendered useless by

her vise-like grip. He felt himself slowly weakening, and soon one

knee was on the ground. Then the hag loosed her hold, and, with a

mocking laugh, hobbled out of the hall.

Thor rose up, ashamed and humiliated by this last defeat; but the

anger had died out of his eyes, and he stood before Utgard-Loke with

bent head. No one had ever seen the strongest of the gods so humbled.

Then the king smiled upon him kindly and said, "Let us forget both our

pride and our foolish boasting, and share the feast as friends; for we

will now offer you the best of food and drink that there is in the

land of Jötunheim." So a bountiful meal was spread before them; and,

in the friendly hospitality of the king, Thor forgot the insults which

he had lately received at Utgard-Loke's hands.

The next morning the king accompanied his guests to the gates of the

city; and when they were well outside the walls he said to Thor: "Now

that you are no longer within our gates, I will confess to you that

during your brief stay among us, we have been not only amazed but

terrified at seeing how great indeed is your strength. We know now

that all our combined forces would have been powerless against you

unless we had deceived you by our magic arts. For it was not superior

skill or strength that defeated you in the contests, but enchantment.

It was I whom you met in the forest,[29] and when I found how terrible

was Thor's strength, I knew that it was rash to admit such a foe

within our gates unless he could be deceived by magic, and his

strength be met by cunning. I tied the sack with a cord that no one

but myself could possibly undo, for every knot was made under a magic

spell. Each time Thor struck me those terrific blows, I quickly slid a

mountain between myself and the hammer; and you may now see the deep

clefts which those blows have made. When Thialfi ran with Hugi, it was

against Thought that he was racing; and when Loki strove with Logi,

his opponent was none other than Fire, who consumes whatever he

touches. Thor took such deep draughts from the horn that we were all

amazed at his wonderful drinking; but the other end of the horn was in

the sea, so try as he would he could never drain it dry. You will

notice, however, as you look over the earth, that the level of the

ocean has fallen far beyond its lowest ebb-line, owing to Thor's

enormous drinking. The cat which could not be raised from the ground

was really the Midgard serpent, and we giants trembled, indeed, when

we saw how high Thor lifted it. Lastly the old nurse, Ellie, whose

strength seemed so marvellous to you, was not a woman, but Old Age

itself; and in her hold even the greatest warrior is bound to weaken

and fall."

[29] Utgard-Loke had told Thor that his name was Skrymer.

When Thor heard these words of Utgard-Loke's, he was so furious at

the trickery that had been put upon him that he rushed at the speaker

with upraised hammer. But before the blow could fall, the giant had

disappeared; and when Thor looked about him he no longer saw the gates

of Utgard nor any sight of the great city. He and Loki were standing

on one of the bleak moorlands over which the winds of Jötunheim blew

forever night and day.

The Wooing of Gerd

The god Freyr was busy enough in the summertime when the sun shone

upon the earth and everything bloomed and blossomed under his untiring

care; but when winter came there was no work for him to do in orchards

or meadows, and he grew restless from the long enforced idleness. So

one day when Odin was away on some necessary journey, Freyr strolled

idly through the golden streets of Asgard, and wished that he might

sometime be taken as a companion when Odin went wandering among the

dwellings of men. He wondered whether there was any spot in Asgard

from which he could look down and see what was going on in the earth,

and the longing grew very strong to see where Odin had gone.

There was one place which commanded a view of all the world, but Freyr

did not dare to think of usurping it, for Odin's throne was held so

sacred that no other god had ever ventured to set foot there.

Dismissing this thought from his mind, Freyr wandered restlessly about

from one marble hall to another, but getting nearer each moment to the

great gold throne, until at last he stood directly before it. A long

time he hesitated, thinking of the punishment that might fall upon him

if Odin suddenly returned; but finally the desire to see all the

kingdoms of the earth grew too strong to be resisted, and Freyr boldly

stepped into Odin's sacred seat.

He gave a gasp of wonder and delight as his eyes travelled quickly

over the wonderful panorama of earth and sky that lay spread out

before him. Far away to the north stretched ice-encircled Jötunheim,

whose snow-capped mountains reached up into the clouds. Still farther

away lay the Land of Mists with its chill fogs, reaching out toward

Muspelheim. The earth itself, which Freyr knew so well, looked

wonderfully fresh and new when seen from this exalted place; and he

felt that he himself would never weary of watching over the affairs of

men, if only he could occupy Odin's seat.

He did not care to rest his gaze very long on frozen Jötunheim, for

there was nothing in that dreary country to attract the beauty-loving

Freyr; but as he chanced to look at a tall old castle standing on the

top of one of the wind-swept hills, he saw the door suddenly open.

Then a maiden appeared on the threshold, and Freyr gazed upon her with

surprise and delight, for she seemed too beautiful to belong to the

grim race of giants.

She stood a moment in the doorway, a very embodiment of warmth and

youth and light; and when the doors at length closed behind her,

Freyr felt that all the brightness had gone out of the world. Never

before had he seen any maiden whom he wished to make his wife; but

here in the land of the frost-giants he had found one whose loveliness

already made him thrill at the mere thought of her.

He descended slowly and sadly from Odin's throne, and began to wander

aimlessly about Asgard, more restless and unhappy than before he had

taken that unfortunate glance toward Jötunheim. For many days he

roamed through the marble-pillared halls, seeking some distraction to

make him forget the golden-haired maiden whom he loved; but always his

thoughts turned toward the castle on the wind-swept hill, and he

longed--till he grew sick with longing--for a sight of the giant's

daughter.

One day his trusted servant Skirner asked him why he looked so sad; so

Freyr told him of his longing for the golden-haired maiden, and of how

he had watched her from Odin's throne. Then Skirner offered to make

the journey into Jötunheim at once, and do his best to woo the giant's

daughter for his master. So Freyr gave him his swiftest horse, and

filled his hands with rich gifts, and finally girded upon Skirner his

own sword, which he promised to give to the wearer if the mission

should be successful. Then he bade Skirner ride with all speed

northward.

As fast as the faithful horse could carry him, Skirner hurried toward

the giants' country; and when the setting sun threw the long, black

shadows of the hills across the snow-covered ground, he crossed the

last of the fiords that lay at the edge of Jötunheim. Then a short,

hard gallop over the frozen ground brought him to the foot of the

castle where the giant Gymer lived with his beautiful daughter. As he

neared the gates, two enormous dogs sprang at him, barking furiously;

and it was with difficulty that Skirner guided his horse well out of

their reach. Not far away was a shepherd leading his flock to the

scanty pasturage; and Skirner, riding slowly up to him, asked how he

might be able to enter the castle.

"What do you seek here?" inquired the shepherd. "No stranger ever

comes to Gymer's hall."

"I wish to speak with the giant's daughter," replied Skirner.

The shepherd shook his head. "It is safer to have speech with Gymer

than with the beautiful Gerd," he said. Then, looking kindly at the

horse and rider, he added, "If you are wise, you will not go too near

the castle gates, but call aloud her name, and perchance she may come

to answer you."

So Skirner called loudly to the maiden until the hills reëchoed to the

name of Gerd; and the giant's daughter listened to the cry, wondering

who the stranger might be that would dare to use her name thus

boldly.

Angry, and yet curious to see who stood without the castle, Gerd threw

open the great hall doors; and at the sight of her the two fierce dogs

stopped howling and lay quiet at her feet. Then Skirner came boldly to

the maiden's side and begged her to listen to his story. As the laws

of hospitality prevailed even in Jötunheim, the beautiful Gerd bade

him enter; and when they were seated by a great fire in the hall,

Skirner told the maiden how Freyr had seen her from Odin's seat and

had loved her with a passion that would surely kill the once-joyous

god unless she consented to become his wife.

Gerd listened coldly to the speaker's words, and his impassioned

pleading left her unmoved. When Skirner finally spoke of taking her at

once with him to Asgard, she cried angrily, "Go back to your master

and tell him that though he should die for love of me, Gymer's

daughter will never wed with one who is the enemy of her race."

Then Skirner brought out a wonderful ring and many costly gems--the

gift of Freyr--and offered them to Gerd; but she haughtily refused to

touch them.

"You cannot tempt the daughter of Gymer with gold," she said. "I have

plenty here in my father's palace."

Failing in this, Skirner drew his sword--the coveted blade which he

hoped to win for himself by the success of his mission--and flashing

this before the maiden's eyes he swore by the spear of Odin that he

would kill her if she would not consent to wed with Freyr. But Gerd

only laughed at his threats, and looked unmoved at the glistening

steel.

"Keep your sword to terrify mortal maidens, or those who sit spinning

in the halls of Asgard. The daughter of Gymer knows no such thing as

fear," she said.

As neither gold nor threats could move the beautiful Gerd to listen to

his master's suit, Skirner tried his last resource; and, calling upon

all the powers of earth and air and water, he pronounced a terrible

curse upon the maiden for her coldness to the unhappy Freyr. "May the

sun never shine without bringing pestilence upon your land, and may

each day add some trouble to those which already burden you. May

sickness throw its blight upon you, and loathsome diseases render your

beauty hideous. May old age lay its hand on you before youth is over,

and may you sit lonely and desolate among your barren hills. May all

the good things of life turn to gnawing pains until you are glad to

pray for death. So shall there be no peace for you in all the world

for having spurned the love of Freyr."

At first the maiden paid no heed to these fearful words; but soon

they seemed to weave a sort of magic spell about her. She trembled,

and her beautiful face grew pale with fear. Suddenly she stretched out

both white arms to Skirner, crying, "Does Freyr indeed love me so

deeply that he can invoke all the powers of the earth to curse me for

not wedding him?" Then Skirner told her how great his master was, and

how truly the curse would be fulfilled if she hardened her heart

against the love of Freyr. And as she listened to the speaker's eager

words of praise, the heart of Gerd was touched and she gave Skirner

her promise to become Freyr's wife.

"Though," she added sadly, "it is strange indeed for Gymer's daughter

to wed with a god." Skirner tried to persuade her to return with him

at once to Asgard, but she said, "Go back to your master and tell him

that I will meet him nine days hence in the groves of Bar-isle."

So Skirner mounted his horse again and rode away from Jötunheim.

Though the journey back to Asgard was as long and hard as his coming

had been, it seemed to him to be far less wearisome; for the horse

shared his rider's gladness and galloped more lightly over the frozen

ground, and the woods looked no longer as if peopled with dreadful

shapes and shadows. When Skirner neared Asgard he saw far in the

distance Freyr standing by the rainbow bridge eagerly watching for his

messenger's return. The impatient god did not wait, however, until

horse and rider came close enough for him to see the gladness on

Skirner's face; but, believing that his servant had been unsuccessful,

since he rode alone, Freyr turned sadly away. He did not even wish to

speak with the man who had done him so great a service; but thought

only of the loss of Gerd.

Then Skirner spurred his faithful horse till its hoofs struck fire

from the hard stones beneath; and when the gates of Asgard were

reached, he rushed eagerly in search of Freyr to tell him of Gerd's

promise. The god's face was lit with a great joy as he heard that his

love was to be rewarded, and that Gymer's beautiful daughter was

willing to become his wife.

The nine days of waiting seemed very long to the impatient lover; but

at last the time came when the sun shone as it had never shone before,

the trees blossomed--although it was still winter--and flowers bloomed

along the path that led to the groves of Bar-isle. Then Freyr, full of

the glad spirit of youth and love and springtime, went gayly to the

trysting place; and there beneath the newly leafing trees stood Gerd,

more beautiful by far than when he had seen her standing in her

father's halls.

How Thor Fought the Giant Hrungner

One day Odin took a long journey into a land far beyond the seas; and

as his road homeward lay through Jötunheim, he went with all speed

across that dreary country. With the swiftness of the wind his

wonderful horse Sleipnir carried him over the ice and snow that lay

thick on the frozen ground; and sometimes, when the mountains loomed

very tall in front of them, the horse rose into the air, soaring

through mist and cloud as easily as some great bird.

Then as the golden hoofs of Sleipnir struck fire from the hard rocks

that seemed to spring up everywhere beneath his feet, Odin rejoiced in

the strength and beauty of his horse, for he knew that there was not

its like in all the world. He had almost crossed the last stretch of

treeless country on the edge of Jötunheim, when he saw a giant seated

on a rock, with his horse standing idly beside him. As Sleipnir came

rushing by, the giant called out: "Ho! stranger. Why do you ride so

swiftly?"

Odin drew rein and came back to the rock where the speaker sat. The

giant looked critically at Sleipnir's splendid head and arching neck;

then he said, "That is a fine horse you have."

"There is no steed that can equal him in beauty or in swiftness,"

replied Odin, proudly. The giant scowled at these boastful words, and

replied angrily:

"Not so fast, my friend. It is easier to talk than to prove the truth

of one's words. Now my horse Goldfax is fully as fine as yours; and

there is nothing to match him for speed in the whole land of

Jötunheim."

"Jötunheim!" cried Odin, contemptuously. "What could you expect from

such a country as this? Why, my steed was reared in the sunny meadows

of Asgard, where he still pastures night and day."

"Well, whatever he is, there is no need for us to waste words in

boasting," said the giant. "Let us run a race and prove whose horse is

the better."

Odin gladly agreed to this; and when the giant mounted his horse

Goldfax, the two riders set off on a gallop that made the hills reëcho

to the sound of clattering hoofs. Sleipnir, overjoyed at the prospect

of a race with something worth his mettle, threw back his head and

sped like an arrow toward Asgard. The giant followed close behind, and

so full was he of the excitement of the chase that he was unaware of

being carried within his enemy's gates. Heimdall, who stood watching

by the rainbow bridge, looked on in surprise as the Ruler of Asgard

rushed swiftly by; and he would have sounded the usual alarm at the

sight of the giant following, if Odin had not signalled to him to let

the strange horse and rider go past.

When the giant, whose name was Hrungner, found himself surrounded by

so many of those who were his sworn enemies, he grew fearful and began

to look helplessly about him. Soon he realized, however, that the laws

of hospitality assured every kindness to a guest, and he knew that he

was as safe in Asgard as he would be in Jötunheim. So when Odin

summoned him to the feast at Valhalla, Hrungner sat down to eat and

drink with the gods, feeling at heart very proud to be in the midst of

so noble a company.

As the feast progressed, and the giant drained one horn after another

of the sparkling drink the gods supplied, he began to grow boastful.

He laughed at the smallness of Odin's shield-hung hall, and told of

the great palaces that were built by the frost-giants. He boasted

loudly of his own great strength; and as he drank more and more of the

wine so freely poured, he cried: "What a puny lot of men you are to

call yourselves gods! There is not a giant in Jötunheim who could not

beat any one of you in single combat. If I chose to make so unfair a

return for your hospitality, I could pull this poor little hall about

your ears, and not leave one stone upon another in the whole of

Asgard."

The gods grew very angry at these insulting words; but as Hrungner was

their guest, they could not punish him as he deserved. So the giant

continued drinking; and as his swaggering grew more unbearable, the

gods with difficulty restrained themselves from striking him dead

where he sat. "I shall drink every drop of wine in Asgard before I

leave here," he cried, glaring drunkenly at Odin. "Then I shall pick

up a handful of you people that are called gods, and carry you off to

Jötunheim as playthings for my children."

So pleased was the giant with his own wit that he began to laugh until

the cups rattled upon the table. The gods felt they could not endure

his presence any longer, and determined to hurl him out of Asgard,

even if he was their guest. But Loki, who was enjoying the giant's

boasts and drunken wit, begged them not to act too hastily; so

Hrungner kept on drinking unmolested. Suddenly he threw his cup with a

crash to the ground, and, looking insolently around at the company,

cried, "The gods have always been the enemies of the frost-giants; but

soon I will drive them from their lofty place, and take Sif and Freya

to be my servants."

This insulting speech was more than the gods could bear; so they

called upon Thor to rid them of the braggart in any way he desired.

Then Hrungner saw the wrathful face of the god approaching, and saw,

too, the upraised hammer; but he was too full of drunken courage to

feel afraid. Before Mjölner fell, he roared savagely at Thor: "If I

had my shield and flint stone here, you would not dare to come at me

with your wonderful hammer. It is very brave of you to strike an

unprotected guest."

At these words Thor's arm dropped to his side, and the giant gave a

mocking laugh.

"Let this mighty fighter meet me in single combat on the plains of

Jötunheim, and then I will prove that the frost-giants are stronger

than any of the timid dwellers in Asgard."

Thor was only too ready to accept the challenge, and arranged to meet

the giant on a certain plain in Jötunheim.[30] Then Hrungner, who felt

that there was nothing more for him to do or say in Asgard, took his

departure; and, returning to his own country, spread the news that

there was to be a mighty combat between himself and Thor. The giants

did not feel very certain of Hrungner's victory over the god, so they

decided to help him in every possible way. They made a huge giant out

of clay and stood him on the plain where the battle was to be fought,

hoping by this stratagem to deceive Thor. As there was no human heart

to put into the clay giant,[31] they gave him a mare's heart, and this

made the poor creature so timid that he could barely be induced to

stand still on the plain and await Thor's coming.

[30] The plain was called Grjotlungard.

[31] The clay giant was named Mokkerkalfe.

Beside the newly made giant stood Hrungner with his shield and

flintstone, secretly hoping that Thor would mistake the clay figure

for that of his opponent, and so spend the first force of his blows on

the mock giant's head. Suddenly on the crest of the mountain appeared

a runner; and soon Thor's servant, Thialfi, came speeding toward them.

He called loudly to Hrungner: "My master is on his way to meet you;

but he will not follow on the road I came. He is coming along

underground, and will attack you from beneath." The stupid giant

believed this; so he threw his shield on the ground and stood firmly

upon it, with the flintstone in his hand, ready to strike Thor's head

the moment it emerged.

Soon there came a sudden roaring sound as if all the waters of the

earth were rushing to pour themselves into the sea; the sky darkened,

and through the thick clouds the lightning gleamed and flashed over

the darkening plain. Nearer and nearer came the crashing of thunder

which heralded Thor's approach, and the hills answered with long, deep

peals. Then on the brow of the hill overlooking the plain appeared

Thor's majestic figure, so terrible to behold that most of the giants

fled away in fear. With incredible swiftness he rushed upon Hrungner,

and the hammer--whirled through the air by his mighty arm--flew

straight at the giant's head. The terrific force of the blow hurled

Hrungner at once to the ground, but not before he had thrown his

flintstone at Thor's forehead.

The noise of the combat was like the crashing of many mountains

together. Hrungner fell to the ground like an oak tree that has

received the last stroke of the axe; and, as he fell, Thialfi sprang

at the clay giant and disposed of him with one straight blow. The

flintstone which Hrungner had thrown, sank into Thor's forehead; and

the sudden pain made him so dizzy that he staggered forward and fell

just where Hrungner's great body lay stretched upon the ground. Then

Thor found to his dismay that one of the giant's feet was resting

firmly on his neck; and, try as he would, he could not get free. So he

bade Thialfi bring his little Magne, who was only three days old, and

when the child came, he easily lifted the great foot from his father's

neck. Thor was very proud of this display of strength, and he wished

to give his son the giant's horse Goldfax, but Odin would not permit

the gift.

The frost-giants were discouraged over the complete defeat of their

champion, but they took great satisfaction in seeing the flintstone

which Hrungner had driven into Thor's forehead. When the Thunderer

returned to Asgard he found that the stone caused him much pain, and

there seemed to be no way to remove it. So he sent for the sorceress

Groa, who, as soon as she came, began to weave her magic spells, and

chant weird songs, and Thor felt the stone in his head already

beginning to loosen. While Groa continued her incantations, and the

pain in his head grew less and less each moment, Thor tried to think

of some way in which he could reward his benefactress for her

kindness. Orvandel, Groa's husband, had been for many years away from

his home; and as the sorceress loved him very dearly, there was

nothing she wished for so much as his return. Thor was partly

responsible for her husband's disappearance, for Orvandel had once

angered him so that he had put the offender into a basket and carried

him to a far-off country, where he left the unfortunate man to find

his way back alone. During the journey the air was so cold that poor

Orvandel nearly perished in his narrow prison. As it was, one of his

toes which protruded from the basket really did freeze; and this made

Thor so ashamed of his harsh treatment of Orvandel that he set the

prisoner free. Then he placed his toe in the sky as a star, and in the

northern heavens there is a bright constellation which is still known

as Orvandel's Toe.

When Thor told Groa what he had done, and promised to bring her

husband back to her at once, the sorceress became so overjoyed at the

prospect of Orvandel's return that she forgot all her magic arts and

spells. Full of happiness at the thought of seeing her husband, she

suddenly stopped her weird singing, and was unable to resume it,

though Thor begged her to continue the enchantment until the stone was

loosed. But Groa had lost all her mystic power, and could never charm

things from their place again. So the flintstone remained in Thor's

forehead, and in the far-off countries of the north, the children are

taught not to throw any stone too hard upon the floor, for when it

strikes the ground the flint in Thor's forehead moves, and causes the

god much pain.

The Story of Balder

In all the city of Asgard there was no god so beautiful or so dearly

loved as Balder. Wherever he went it was like the coming of sunshine,

and every grief fled away before the brightness of his presence. In

all his happy life he had never known a moment's sadness, and the gods

believed that none could ever come to him. So beautiful and joyous and

free from care was Balder that he seemed to the gods to be the one

among them who could surely never share in the final doom which they

knew awaited all the dwellers in Asgard.

The days passed happily for Balder,[32] and no thought of sorrow

crossed his untroubled mind, until one night he had a dream which

filled him with strange fear. When the gods met again in council he

told them his dream, and begged them to interpret its meaning. They

tried to laugh and banish his fears, but at heart they felt that an

evil day had come. Over Asgard now hung a dark shadow which foreboded

the coming sorrow, for the dream spoke of approaching evil, even of

death. So full of sadness did the gods become at the thought of

losing Balder, that they cared no longer to join in their accustomed

games or to make merry while some tragic fate might be overshadowing

the bright and joyous youth.

[32] Balder's palace was named Breidablik.

Odin could not rest until he learned the truth about his favourite

son; so he mounted Sleipnir and rode down to the dark region where the

goddess Hel ruled over her innumerable dead. In those silent halls[33]

he found a table spread, and dishes of gold and silver were set out as

if for some honoured guest. At the head of the table was one vacant

seat; and when Odin saw this, his heart sank with fear, for he knew

too well for whom the chair was waiting. Hoping against hope, in spite

of this sinister sight, Odin returned to the earth and sought out a

certain wood where a famous prophetess had long ago been buried. Over

her grave he uttered some mystic words that roused the sleeper from

her age-long rest, and at last she spoke in a faint, far-off voice.

"Who is it that comes to break my sleep?"

[33] Hel's palace was called Eliudnir.

And Odin answered, "I am Voltam, and I have come to ask why the table

is so richly spread in Helheim and for whom the vacant chair stands

waiting." Thus Odin spoke, for he feared to tell her his name.

A silence fell over the dim old forest, and for a moment Odin feared

that his spells could not compel the dead to speak. But at last a

faint voice whispered, "It is for the shining Balder that Hel and all

her hosts are waiting."

"Who then shall send the Beloved of the gods to Helheim?" asked Odin,

and he waited fearfully for the answer.

"Blind Höder shall slay him, for so it has been written, and so it

shall be," came the words which the anxious listener dreaded and yet

waited to hear.

"And who shall avenge the death of Balder?" he asked sorrowfully. For

a long time no answer came; then the voice, which sounded still

farther away, cried mournfully:--

"Keep me no longer from my well-earned rest. For ages upon ages I have

lain here, and the rain and snow have beat upon my head and the winds

have sung their songs in my ears. Depart thou hence and leave me to my

sleep."

So Odin left the forest, for he knew that the dead would speak no

more; and slowly and sorrowfully he returned to Asgard. He did not

tell the gods of his visit to Helheim; but kept to himself the sad

knowledge he had gained.

Meantime the goddess Frigga determined to avert, if possible, the

unknown danger that threatened her son; so she went out one day from

her palace and wandered over the whole earth. And as she went she

begged everything which she met to swear by a solemn oath never to

hurt Balder. Fire, water, rocks, trees, iron, brass, birds and

beasts,--all were bound by a vow to do no harm to him; and everything

on earth gave the promise gladly, for all the world loved the bright

and joyous Balder. As Frigga was returning home, she saw just outside

the gates of Asgard a small plant called the mistletoe; but it looked

so harmless that she passed it by without asking for the promise, and

hurried on to tell Odin of the success of her journey.

When the gods heard how everything had sworn never to hurt Balder,

there was gladness again among them. But Odin, knowing the decree of

the Norns, could not rejoice with the rest; though in the general

happiness that reigned now in Asgard, no one marked his sadness. Then,

to prove whether all the things which had given the promise would

really keep their word to Frigga, the gods placed the youth as a

target before them, and hurled at him huge stones and sharp-pointed

spears and the weapons which they used in battle; but each missile

turned aside, and refused to hurt the shining Balder. Even the deadly

battle-axes fell harmless at his feet. Now Loki, who always hated

everything beautiful, and who was jealous of Balder because the gods

loved him, stood by watching the game. His heart was full of

bitterness and envy, and he hated the glorious youth who could be so

confident and secure in the love which all the world had owned for

him. So he determined to work some harm to Balder.

One day a strange old woman came to the palace of Frigga and asked to

have speech with her. The goddess was sitting with her maidens

spinning, and when the old woman was admitted to her presence, she

spoke to her kindly and asked the object of her visit.

"I have come, lady," said the old woman, who was really Loki in

disguise, "to learn what is going on here in Asgard that the shouts of

joy reach even to the earth. I hear laughter and cheering in the court

where the gods are at their games. Tell me, what does it mean?" Then

Frigga smiled happily and said, "It means that the gods are hurling

their battle-axes at Balder and trying to wound him, but he stands

before them unhurt, for everything on earth has sworn to me to do him

no harm."

"Has everything indeed made you this promise?" asked Loki.

"Yes," answered Frigga; "everything except a little plant called the

mistletoe, and this looked so small and weak that I did not ask it to

promise."

"And does this mistletoe grow far from here?" continued the pretended

old woman.

"Just at the gates of Asgard," answered Frigga. And Loki, having

learned what he wished, left the palace exulting in the ease with

which he had deceived the unsuspecting goddess. Laying aside his

disguise, he sought the place where the mistletoe grew, and cutting

off a branch, he shaped it into an arrow. Then he went to join the

gods in their sport.

Just outside the circle of the players stood Höder, the brother of

Balder, silent and alone, for he was blind and could not share in the

games. Going up to him, Loki said,--

"Why do you not join in the sport, Höder, and throw some missile at

the wonderful Balder who now bears a charmed life?"

"Because I cannot see where he is standing," answered Höder, "and

besides, I have no weapon to throw."

"If that is all," said Loki, "come with me and I will give you an

arrow and help you shoot it." So he led Höder forward, and the blind

god followed him willingly, for he dreamed of no evil.

Then Loki put the arrow into his hand and directed his aim so well

that the fatal shaft flew straight to Balder's heart, and in a moment

the beautiful god lay dead.

There was mourning now in Asgard, and over all the world. The sun no

longer shone with its accustomed brightness; the birds stopped their

singing, and the flowers drooped their heads; even the beasts felt the

sadness that lay upon the earth, and crouched silent in their dens.

Everything that loved the shining Balder now wept and mourned for him.

Then the gods arrayed his body in the finest cloth of gold, and

brought it down to the sea, where Balder's ship[34] lay close to the

water's edge. Very sadly they laid the body upon its deck, and heaped

around the beloved form rings and chains of finest gold, jewels and

weapons such as warriors love. When Nanna, Balder's wife, saw the body

wrapped in readiness for burning, her heart broke from her great

grief, and the gods laid her, dead, beside her husband.

[34] The name of the ship was Ringhorn.

Then they lit the funeral fires with a thorn-twig, which is the emblem

of sleep; and took their last look at the dead Balder as he lay upon

the burning pyre. Odin, stepping forward, whispered in the unhearing

ear of his son; but what he said no one ever knew.

When they tried to launch the ship, they found to their dismay that it

was too heavily laden for their united efforts. So they sent for the

mountain-giantess Hyrroken--who had ever been friendly to the people

of Asgard--and begged her to grant this last service to the beloved of

the gods. The giantess came, riding on a fierce wolf, with twisted

snakes in her hands for reins. She gladly offered her help to the

gods, and putting her shoulder to the prow, she gave it a mighty

shove which sent the burning ship far out from the shore.

The flames rose higher and higher as the vessel drifted out toward the

sea, bearing with it the light and joy of Asgard. A silence fell on

all the watchers, and great sorrow filled their hearts. All the world

seemed under a shadow, and in the solemn stillness no sound was heard

but the roaring of the flames on the burning ship. The gods stood upon

the shore watching the funeral pyre, and, mingled with their sadness,

was a dread foreboding of evil; for outside the ring of the shining

ones of Asgard was another group of watchers--the frost-giants--who

seemed to be looking on in mockery at the solemn rites, and now and

then drew nearer, their tall forms looming up grim and threatening and

terrible.

Then the sea and sky seemed to burst into one mass of glowing flame

and a wonderful golden light spread over the earth as the fire upon

the slowly moving ship burned each moment more brightly. Thus the

vessel drifted westward toward the sea, and the gods knew that Balder

had passed forever from their sight.

One by one they returned sadly to Asgard; but Odin could not give up

his son without one last effort to reclaim him. He determined to go

himself to Helheim, and offer a ransom to the goddess Hel if she would

give Balder back to him. Meantime poor blind Höder had been mourning

over the great evil which he had innocently wrought, and he wished

with all the fervor of his loving heart that he could bring Balder

back to Asgard. Sadly he sought the palace of his mother Frigga, and

asked her whether he might not go to Helheim and offer his life to the

dread goddess in exchange for Balder's. "The road is long and hard to

find," said Frigga, "and what could a blind god do in the path where

the best traveller would lose his way? Go back to your own dwelling,

and send for Hermod, our swift messenger. He loved the shining Balder

and now mourns for him. Bid him ride to Helheim."

Höder did as his mother commanded, and found Hermod only too willing

to take the fearful journey for the sake of Balder. Odin gave him his

own horse Sleipnir, who up to this time had never allowed another

rider to mount him. Nine days and nights Hermod rode through the earth

in darkness so thick that his horse could not see where to step. It

was a black and steep and fearful road down to Helheim, and only on

Odin's horse could the journey have been made. On the tenth morning he

came to the golden bridge that spanned the river Giöll; and here a

maiden,[35] pale and sorrowful, kept guard. She halted Hermod as he

rode across the bridge, and said:--

[35] Her name was Modgud.

"Who are you, and what do you seek here among the dead? Yesterday

five hands of men rode across the bridge, but they did not shake it as

you alone have done. Your face is not as the face of the dead. Why do

you come here? It is no place for the living."

Then Hermod asked if she had seen the shining Balder pass over her

bridge; and the maiden answered,--

"He has crossed it already, and has gone to the dark hall where the

feast is now spread."

So Hermod rode on until he reached Hel's gloomy palace and came face

to face with the terrible queen who ruled over the kingdom of the

dead. Hermod trembled with fear as he looked about him, but his love

for Balder gave him courage, and he stepped up boldly before the

goddess, saying:--

"I have come to beg a boon of thee, O Hel. Your land is full without

the shining Balder, and Asgard is empty and lonely since he has gone.

Every heart mourns for him, and every eye is filled with tears. Give

him back to us."

Slowly and sternly Hel replied: "Is there indeed no dry eye upon the

earth? If it be true as thou sayest, that everything weeps for Balder,

he shall return to Asgard; but if there is one who will not weep, he

shall stay forever in Helheim."

Then Hermod hurried with the message back to Asgard, and when Odin

heard the answer Hel had made, he gave the command, and everything

upon the earth wept and mourned for Balder. Throughout the whole world

arose the sound of bitter wailing; and not a single eye remained

undimmed by tears. But among the mourners in Asgard there was one old

woman[36] whom Odin spied standing apart and shedding no tear.

[36] Loki disguised himself as the giantess Thok.

"Weep," he cried, "weep for Balder that he may return."

"Nay," replied the old woman, "I will not weep. He has done naught for

me that I should mourn him. Let him stay in Helheim." Then with a

mocking laugh she hurried away, and Odin knew that it was Loki.

So Balder never came back to Asgard.

Andvari's Hoard

Once Odin and Hœnir and Loki went on a visit to the earth, and in

order to mingle freely with people without being recognized as gods,

they laid aside all their divine powers and became, even in

appearance, like ordinary men. When they had wandered about the earth

many days, and talked with many people,--who never knew, of course,

that the gods were among them,--they grew tired of the busy life of

the world, and longed to find some place of quiet and rest. So they

went far into the heart of the forest, and sat down beside a brook

where many fish were leaping about and darting through the sparkling

water. The gods lay idly upon the grass and watched them for a long

time. Presently, they spied an otter sitting on the bank of the

stream, lazily eating a fish which he had just caught. The gods looked

on at the meal, and it made them remember that they too were hungry.

Odin therefore proposed that they journey on in search of food, and to

this the others readily consented; but as they rose to go, Loki

suddenly took up a large stone, and, throwing it at the otter, killed

him instantly. At this wanton cruelty Odin became angry, and rebuked

Loki for his act[37]; but Loki only laughed, while he skinned the

otter and cast its body back into the stream.

[37] The otter was held sacred by the Norsemen, and it

figures in the myths of many races. Even to-day the killing

of an otter is considered a great crime by the Parsees.

The gods then wandered on until almost nightfall before they came to

any dwelling, and this was only a rude hut built on the side of a

mountain. But they were too weary to look further, so they stopped to

beg food and a lodging for the night. The old man[38] who lived in the

hut bade them enter and share his simple fare, and in return he asked

them to tell him of their adventures. Without revealing their

identity, Odin told him of their wanderings among men, and of the

strange things they had seen. Hœnir also related many stories; but his

were of brave heroes who had wrought the mightiest deeds on bloody

battlefields. When it came Loki's turn, they asked him to tell all he

knew of the life lived by the bright dwellers in Asgard, but Loki

laughed and threw upon the ground his otter's skin. When the old man

saw this, he cried out:--

[38] The old man's name was Hreidmar (Rodmar).

"O wicked, cruel man, you have killed my son. He was fishing to-day in

the stream, and at this sport he always takes the form of an otter.

Alas, this is indeed he, and you have slain him."

Then he raised a loud cry, and called for help to his two sons,

Fafnir and Regin, who came running in from the woods near by. As soon

as they heard of the killing of their brother, they seized the three

gods and bound them hand and foot, for, in becoming men, the gods had

lost all their divine powers, and they had no choice but to yield.

When Odin begged the old man to ask whatever he would in payment for

their ransom, both Fafnir and Regin demanded the life of one of the

gods in return for their brother's. But their father spread the

otter's skin upon the ground, and, turning to Odin, said,--

"You and your wicked companions shall be free when you have covered

every hair of this hide with a piece of gold or a precious stone."

"We will do this," answered Odin; "but first you must set one of us

free that he may go and procure the treasure. Let the other two stay

bound as hostages until he returns."

To this the old man and his sons agreed, and Odin bade them unbind

Loki, for he alone would know where to find such vast treasure as they

needed. Accordingly Loki was freed, and promising his companions to

return with their ransom, he hurried away. There was only one place

where a hoard of gold and precious stones might be found, and thither

Loki directed his steps. There were many mountains to climb and

rivers to cross before he reached the place he sought, and night

coming on made the journey more difficult and wearisome.

At last he spied upon a rocky mountain side the thing he had come so

far to find, a small, deep cavern in the rocks. As Loki drew nearer,

the moonlight revealed a little brook gushing from the mouth of the

cavern and winding in and out among the rocks below. It was small, but

beautifully clear, and the pebbles in its bed shone in the moonlight

like diamonds. Just where it issued from the cave, the water flowed

swiftly over a deep pool, and here it was so dark that only the sharp

eyes of Loki could have caught the faint shimmer of a salmon which lay

lurking in its depths.

Loki saw it, however, and his heart leaped for joy, for this salmon

was no other than the cunning dwarf Andvari, the owner of a wonderful

hoard of gold and gems. The treasure was buried somewhere near the

cavern, and it was to gain this glittering hoard that Loki had come so

far. So he now put forth all his skill to catch the wily salmon as it

darted to and fro in the stream. The dwarf knew, however, who the

fisherman was, and why he had come, and he had no intention of being

caught and made to yield up his treasures. Loki spent many hours

trying to lure the salmon into the shallows, but all his efforts were

in vain. The crafty fish never moved from his deep, dark pool. Then

Loki saw that further attempts would be useless unless he had help

from some one with magic skill, so he determined to seek the aid of

Queen Ran and her wonderful net.

Leaving the cave, he hurried down to the sea, and for many hours he

walked along the shore, searching carefully among the rocks for the

hiding place of the cruel ocean queen. Somewhere here, or upon the

jagged reefs, he would be sure to find her spreading a net for her

prey. But though he wandered for miles along the water's edge, he

caught no glimpse of her anywhere; and, wearied and disheartened, he

was about to give up his search, when he heard a low, rippling laugh

just behind him, and turning he saw the beautiful daughters of the

sea-king seated on the rocks combing their golden hair. Loki went over

to them and begged them to tell him where he could find their mother,

Queen Ran.

"Why do you seek her?" one of the maidens asked.

"Because I am a fisherman, and would like to ask her where the big

fish are gathering now," replied Loki.

The sea-maidens laughed again and said:--

"O crafty, cunning Loki, do not think to deceive us who know well who

you are, and why you have come hither. Play no tricks, then, and tell

no lies to our mother, or you will not gain the object of your

journey."

Loki promised, and begged the nymphs to tell him where to find Queen

Ran, since no other than Odin himself needed her help.

"You must go about ten miles farther," answered one of the maidens,

"until you come to a place where the rocks are high, and project in

sharp, dangerous reefs far out into the sea. Here the waves dash with

tremendous fury, and here is many a good ship wrecked and all her

cargo lost. Look among the shadows of the rocks, and you will find our

mother sitting there mending her net."

Loki thanked the nymphs and hurried on, for the night was growing

black and the moon was completely hidden, and he had yet far to go.

When he felt sure that ten miles lay between him and the daughters of

the sea, he stopped and looked carefully about him. Near by was a

group of tall, jagged rocks over which the waves dashed with great

force; but there was one spot so protected that even the spray from

the water did not reach it, and here Loki spied Queen Ran,

long-fingered, greedy and cruel, mending her magic net. When she saw

Loki, she tried to hide in the shadow of the rocks, for she knew him

and feared he had come with some unfriendly message from Odin. But

Loki called to her and said:--

"Be not afraid, O Queen, for I come as a petitioner to beg a great

boon of thee;" and Ran replied, "What does Loki wish, that he leaves

the shining halls of Asgard to travel over the earth to speak to the

wife of Æger?"

"I have journeyed thus far," answered Loki, "because I have heard of

your wonderful net. They say that it will catch whatever you wish, and

that anything once caught cannot escape from its magic meshes.

Therefore I have come to ask your help, for there is a certain salmon

which I have long tried to snare, but which is too cunning to be

caught by ordinary means. Lend me, I beg, your magic net."

"I cannot! I cannot!" cried Ran, "there is a ship sailing hither which

will reach these rocks in the morning, and it is full of great

treasure--jewels, and gold, and rich apparel. I have sent my mermaids

to lure it to the reefs, where it will be dashed to pieces, and the

prize be gathered into my net. No, I cannot lend it to you."

"But let me have it for just one hour," pleaded Loki, "and I will

promise to return it in that time. I swear it on the word of a god."

The oath was reassuring, but still Ran hesitated to let the precious

net leave her hands. At length, however, she was persuaded, and with

many expressions of gratitude, Loki said good-by and hastened back to

the cave of Andvari, for the night was now far spent, and at daylight

the salmon would be sure to leave his haunts.

When he reached the cavern, the fish was still lying idly in the

water, but upon seeing the net in Loki's hand it darted like a flash

down the stream. Then Loki quickly cast his net, and though the

cunning fish swam with wonderful swiftness, it could not escape the

magic net which began to close slowly and surely about it. As soon as

Loki thought that his prize was secure, he drew the net on land, and,

after slowly loosening the meshes, he at last grasped the struggling

fish in his hand. Now, however, it was no longer a salmon fighting for

its freedom, but the crafty dwarf Andvari. Any one less wise than Loki

would have dropped him immediately in surprise at the transformation,

but Loki only held on the tighter, and shook the poor dwarf until he

cried for mercy.

"No mercy will I grant thee, thou master thief," exclaimed the god,

"until thou hast revealed to me the hiding place of thy ill-gotten

treasures. Show me where it lies, or I will dash thee to pieces upon

these rocks."

Seeing that there was no hope of escape, Andvari promised to yield up

his hoard, and pointing to a large rock near by bade Loki raise it and

look beneath. Without loosening his hold of the dwarf, Loki tried to

lift the stone, but though it was far from being heavy or beyond his

strength, he found that he could not move it. Then he knew that he was

being tricked, and, grasping the dwarf still tighter, he shook him

fiercely and commanded him to give his help. Andvari laid his finger

on the stone and immediately it turned over and disclosed a large pit

beneath.

It was quite dark now and the moon was completely hidden; yet even in

the dim light Loki saw the sparkle of thousands of precious gems and

the shimmer of many dazzling heaps of gold. It was truly a wonderful

sight, and would have bewildered the ordinary finder of such wealth;

but Loki had no time to spend in admiration. He gathered all the

treasure together in the net, which, by its magic power, grew larger

and larger as he continued to fill it.

The dwarf meanwhile stood by sullen and angry, watching the gold and

gems being poured into the net. Had it been Odin who was robbing him

of his hoard, he would have begged that some small portion of it might

be left him, but he knew better than to make such a request of Loki.

So when the last of the treasure had been gathered up, he turned away

and was disappearing into the woods when Loki caught the glitter of

something upon his finger, and seizing him roughly, cried out: "Ho,

ho, my cunning elf. So you would keep back some of the gems, I see.

Yield me that ring upon your finger, or you shall not have one moment

more to live."

Andvari's face grew black with rage, and he refused to give up his

ring, stamping his foot all the while upon the ground and cursing Loki

for his avarice and greed. Yet he knew too well that his fury was in

vain, and soon he changed his tone, begging Loki, humbly, to leave him

his one poor gem. This appeal would have moved any other of the gods,

but Loki was never known to do a generous thing in all his life. He

only gave a mocking, hateful laugh, and, seizing the dwarf, tore the

ring from his finger.

It was a wonderful ring, shaped like a serpent, coiled, with its tail

in its mouth. It had two blood-red rubies for eyes, and in the dim

light they seemed to Loki to glow with all the cunning and cruelty of

a living serpent. But this did not deter him from slipping the ring on

his finger, and laughing triumphantly at the dwarf, who was now

foaming with helpless rage. Then Andvari cursed the ring and said:

"May this ring be your bane, and the bane of all who shall possess it.

May it bring sorrow and evil upon him who shall wear it, and from this

day be the source of envy and hatred and bloodshed."

To these dreadful words Loki paid no heed, and, throwing his precious

burden upon his shoulder, he hurried down the mountain side and sped

swiftly on to the old man's cottage. Odin and Hœnir were still bound,

and they had almost given up hope of Loki's return. But they forgot

the tediousness of their captivity when they saw the great heap of

gold and gems which Loki poured out of the net; for here was surely

more than enough to cover ten otters' skins, and the remainder of the

treasure would be their own.

Fafnir and Regin stretched the skin upon the ground, and bade Loki

cover every hair. This seemed at first an easy thing to do; but the

more gold and precious stones that Loki spread upon it, the larger the

skin seemed to grow, until it covered the entire floor of the hut; and

though Loki still added handfuls of gold, the brothers always found

some spot uncovered. At last every hair of the hide was completely

hidden beneath some coin or gem, and the gods demanded their release.

The old man unloosed the cords which bound them and was bidding them

depart, when Regin uttered a loud cry and declared that there was one

hair yet uncovered upon the otter's head.

Odin and Hœnir looked at each other in dismay, for the net was now

empty, and there was no way to procure further treasure. Meanwhile,

the old man and his sons were clamouring loudly for the gods to fulfil

their promise. The case seemed indeed desperate; until Loki drew from

his finger the serpent ring of Andvari, and laid it upon the hair. The

brothers being now satisfied, the gods left the hut with all speed.

Odin and Hœnir returned at once to Asgard, while Loki took back the

net to Queen Ran, who was anxiously waiting, and reached her just as

the dawn was breaking.

The treasure soon became, according to Andvari's words, a source of

hatred and bloodshed; for the old man, wishing to keep the wealth for

himself, drove his sons from the house, and shut himself up with his

treasure. All day long he sat poring greedily over the heap of

glittering gems, and running his fingers through the shining gold.

Above all, he loved to watch the serpent ring, with its glowing ruby

eyes.

Then one night Fafnir came suddenly upon him, demanding his share of

the gold; and when the old man refused to yield up even one stone,

Fafnir slew him in his anger, and took possession of all the treasure.

Soon he grew fearful that his brother might steal upon him sometime

and rob, or perchance kill him; so he changed himself into a monstrous

dragon which breathed forth fire and spat deadly poison. Thus secured,

he coiled himself about the hoard, and no one dared to approach him.

Regin meanwhile fled to a neighbouring city, and became the king's

master-smith, the maker of strong swords.

The Story of Siegmund

The king whose protection Regin sought was named Alf, and when he

learned of the great skill that belonged to this stranger in his

realm, he gave Regin a place of honour among the sword-makers, and

soon promoted him to be master-smith. Before many years passed the

fame of Regin's smithy had spread far and wide; for here men gathered

not only to learn the master's craft, but to share in that wisdom

which he seemed to have gathered from all the ages. Even the noted

wise men of the kingdom came to him, wondering at his great knowledge;

and the king sought his counsel in all the difficult affairs of state.

At the court of King Alf lived his foster-son Siegfried,[39] who was

much beloved by the king, although he was not of his own blood. The

youth was tall and strong, of fearless bearing, and with so keen an

eye that men often quailed before his glance. His hair was golden red,

and fell down in long locks over his shoulders; and his body was of a

strength that matched the beauty of his face. Men said of him that

"never did he lose heart, and of naught was he afraid." When Siegfried

grew to manhood, King Alf sent him to Regin's smithy that he might not

only profit by the wisdom of this wisest of teachers, but also be

taught to fashion a sword that could be worthily borne by one of his

name and race, for Siegfried was the last of the Volsungs--a race of

warriors whose fame was still fresh in the minds of men.

[39] In the Volsunga Saga his name is Sigurd.

At first Siegfried did not like to wear the woollen coat and rough

leather apron of a smith, for he was a prince's son and he thought the

work menial; but he soon learned to respect his great teacher so much

that the place took on a new dignity in his eyes and he no longer

chafed at the hard work or the simple fare he shared with Regin. Early

in the morning the sound of Siegfried's hammer could be heard as he

worked blithely at his trade, and he almost forgot that he had ever

known any other life than this one by Regin's side. When the long day

was over and he sat with his master by the glowing light of the forge,

Regin would tell him wonderful tales of gods and heroes and especially

of the warrior race from which Siegfried sprang. Many times they sat

until the last bit of fire in the forge sank into lifeless embers, and

still the youth listened eagerly to the stories of brave deeds wrought

by the long-dead Volsungs. The story which he never tired of hearing

was that of his own birth, and in this wise did Regin always begin

the tale:--

There was once a mighty king named Volsung,[40] who built a lordly

palace such as men never saw before nor will ever see again; for its

walls glistened with thousands of shields taken from his enemies in

battle, and in the centre of the palace was a large courtyard in which

grew a wonderful tree. This tree was so high that it towered above the

castle walls, and its branches grew so thick that they spread like a

roof over the whole palace. The king called this tree Branstock, and

about its mighty trunk the Volsungs gathered to feast and sing songs

in praise of their king and their race.

[40] Volsung was the son of Rerir, who was the son of Sigi,

the son of Odin.

Ten sons and one daughter were born to King Volsung, and of these the

great ruler was rightly proud, for the youths bid fair to excel their

kinsmen in strength and courage, while the daughter, Signy, was so

famed for her beauty that suitors came from many distant lands. Now

there was a certain king named Siggeir, ruler of the Goths, who wooed

the fair Signy with many rich gifts, all of which the maiden coldly

disdained, for she distrusted his dark, evil-looking face. King

Volsung, however, was much taken with the wealth of Siggeir and his

seeming generosity, and he urged his daughter to accept this giver of

rich gifts. For a long time Signy refused to listen to her father's

words, but at length she yielded and was betrothed to her hated

suitor. Then a great feast was proclaimed throughout the kingdom, and

Siggeir gave freely of his gold. The wedding banquet was served in the

courtyard beneath the spreading boughs of the mighty Branstock, and

the guests were so many in number that they well-nigh filled the halls

to overflowing.

When the feasting and merriment were at their highest, there suddenly

appeared in the midst of the revellers a tall old man. He had a blue

cloak thrown over his shoulders, and his beard was long and white.

Only a few of the guests caught a glimpse of his face, but those who

did affirmed that he had only one eye. Stepping quickly up to King

Volsung's wonderful tree, he drew from beneath his cloak a gleaming

sword and drove it with great force into the tree trunk, up to the

very hilt. Then turning to the astonished company, he said, "Whoso

draweth this sword from the tree shall have it as a gift from me; and

he shall find that he never bore in his hand a better sword than

this." So saying, the old man went forth from the hall, and none knew

who he was nor whither he went; but some whispered that it was Odin

himself who had been among them.

Then one by one the guests of King Volsung tried to draw out the

sword, but, though many of them were strong-armed warriors, not a

single man had the power so much as to loosen it from the tree. King

Siggeir was among the last to try his strength, and he strove until

his eyes almost started from his head. But he, too, failed as the

others had done, and returned to his place angered and humiliated at

his defeat. When all the guests had been put to the test, and no one

had drawn the sword, a certain lord said to King Volsung, "Have you no

more sons?" and the king answered: "There is yet one more, but he is a

mere lad. It would be cruel to shame him before so great a company."

The warriors urged him, however, to summon the youth; and though

anxious to spare his youngest son, the king reluctantly consented to

have Siegmund[41] appear. The lad stood straight and strong and

fearless before the lordly company, and asked what was the king's

will. Volsung pointed to the sword, and bade young Siegmund draw it

forth. To the astonishment of all beholders, the lad stepped boldly up

to the Branstock, and, grasping the hilt of the sword, drew it out as

easily as if it had only been in the scabbard. The guests were

delighted at this evidence of Odin's favour toward an untried

stripling; and they all praised Siegmund's good fortune--all but King

Siggeir, who hated the youth from that day. He sought to buy the

sword of Siegmund by offering him thrice its weight in gold, but the

youth replied: "You might have had the sword if it were Odin's will

that you should bear it. But now it shall stay mine, though you

offered me all the gold you have." Then was King Siggeir filled with

wrath at these scornful words and vowed vengeance against Siegmund and

all the Volsungs.

[41] Spelled Sigmund in the Volsunga Saga.

When the wedding feast was over and the time came for Signy to set

sail with her husband to his own land, King Siggeir spoke fair words

to Volsung and his ten sons, and begged them to visit him in Gothland.

Then said Signy to her father, "I pray thee, urge me not to go away

with King Siggeir, for by my foreknowledge I am certain that no good

will come of this marriage." But Volsung answered: "Speak not so, my

daughter; and go with thy husband, for it will bring great shame to us

if we fail to trust him without reason. Moreover, he will pay us back

most evilly if we break faith with him for no cause." So Signy went

with her husband, and they sailed away from the land of the Volsungs.

Now at the appointed time when the king had promised Siggeir to visit

him in Gothland, Volsung and his ten sons put forth in the ships with

a goodly following of men. After many days of pleasant voyaging, they

reached the stranger's country, and came in toward the shore on the

evening tide. But before they made a landing, Signy the queen came

secretly to them, and begged them to return at once to their own land,

for Siggeir had sworn to kill them. Her pleadings were in vain,

however, for the grisly old king of the Volsungs had never yet turned

his back to a foe, and he had no fear of Siggeir and his hosts. So

Signy went back to the palace, and the old king with his followers

waited for the dawn. At a fitting time they left the boats, and sought

the way to King Siggeir's palace. They seemed a gayly dressed company

that had come as guests to a marriage feast, but under their cloaks

each man carried a sword--being mindful of Signy's warning.

No messenger came forth to welcome them, but as they neared the palace

King Siggeir fell upon them with a great army, and neither bravery nor

a good sword could withstand the assault of such numbers. The Volsungs

fought hard, and with all the courage of their race, and many a Goth

lay dead at the old king's feet and at the feet of his sons; but at

last Volsung himself was struck down by a treacherous blow; and when

his followers saw their leader dead, they lost heart for the fight.

Then all of the goodly company that had come to Gothland with the king

were slain by Siggeir's men, and soon none were left of all the

Volsungs but the king's ten sons. These were sorely wounded, yet

alive, so they were bound with chains and carried before Siggeir that

he might determine by what torment they should die.

Now came Signy to the palace hall and begged their lives of the king;

but Siggeir laughed at her prayers and bade his men slay the sons of

Volsung before their sister's eyes. But first he took from Siegmund

the coveted gift of Odin, declaring that the youth should die by a

stroke from his own sword. Then Signy threw herself at the feet of her

lord and begged him to grant her brothers a few more days of life. At

the end of that time he might do with them as he wished, and she would

plead no more. To prove that she had no thought of trying to release

them, she asked that they might be chained to a certain fallen oak in

the forest so that she could visit them without incurring the king's

displeasure. As all of the Volsungs were wounded, and some of them

suffering greatly, this idea of prolonging their torment pleased

Siggeir's fancy; and he agreed to let the brothers live for a few days

chained to the fallen oak; but meantime he shut Signy up in the palace

under a strict watch.

Now it happened that at midnight a she-wolf came out of the heart of

the forest; and, seizing upon one of the Volsungs, devoured him, and

then went her way. When news of this dreadful disaster reached Signy,

she begged Siggeir to put her brothers in prison; but the king only

laughed again and left the Volsungs in the forest. Each night, at

midnight, the she-wolf came out of the deep woods to eat one of the

brothers; and this was repeated until all were devoured except

Siegmund.[42] Then Signy called to her a trusted servant, and putting

a pot of honey in his hand, she bade him go into the forest and smear

the face and hands of her brother with the sweet liquid. The servant

did as the queen instructed him; so that night, when the she-wolf came

out of the forest, she smelt the sweet odour, and instead of falling

upon Siegmund to tear him to pieces, she began to lick the honey from

his face and hands.

[42] The she-wolf was supposed to be the mother of King

Siggeir, who had been turned into a wolf by a troll.

Some of the liquid had dripped over Siegmund's lips, and when the

she-wolf thrust her greedy tongue into his mouth, he caught it firmly

between his teeth and bit with all his strength. In her frantic

efforts to get loose from the torturing grip, the she-wolf set her

feet against the fallen tree and strained so mightily that the chain

which bound Siegmund snapped in two pieces and the youth found himself

free. Then he seized the wolf by the throat, and strangled her with

his mere hands. Leaving the beast's body and his own torn clothes by

the oak tree, he fled far into the forest.

King Siggeir believed that the last of the Volsungs had died in the

same manner as his brothers; but Signy felt in her heart that Siegmund

had succeeded, through her strategy, in escaping. Soon word was

brought to her by her faithful servant that Siegmund was alive and in

need of help; so each day she sent the messenger to the forest with

food for her brother and the assurance that she would always watch

over his needs. Then Siegmund built himself an underground hut in the

woods, and lived as a wild man; and thither came Signy by night, for

King Siggeir had granted the queen her liberty, believing that all the

Volsungs were dead. Between them they plotted many things to avenge

the murder of their kinsmen; but as yet their plans seemed futile, for

how could one youth prevail against a king's army?

The Vengeance of the Volsungs

So, many years went by, and two sons were born to Signy and King

Siggeir, both of them so like their father that the queen saw no touch

of the Volsung spirit in either one, and no courage on which she could

rely to help her and Siegmund in their work of vengeance. When the

eldest was ten years old, his mother sent him to the forest that he

might be trained by Siegmund if there were aught in him worthy of the

Volsung race. When the lad came to the earth-dwelling, Siegmund saw

that he had none of the right mettle in him; but he welcomed his

sister's son and bade him make ready the bread for the evening meal

while he himself went to seek firewood. On Siegmund's return the lad

was still standing with the bag of meal in his hand, and there was no

bread laid upon the coals. When Siegmund questioned him, he answered,

"I dared not set hand in the sack, for there was something moving in

the meal." So Siegmund sent the lad back to his mother, for he knew

that such a faint-hearted youth could never help him to avenge his

murdered kinsmen.

Next year Signy sent her second son into the forest; but he too was

fearful of the meal, and said on Siegmund's return, "There is

something alive in the sack, so I dared not touch it." Then Siegmund

bade him return to his mother. Some years later another son was born

to Signy who in all ways resembled the Volsungs, so tall and strong

and fierce he was, yet fair of face like Siegmund. When his mother

deemed him courageous enough and of hardihood enough to stand an

extreme test, she sewed his shirt to his skin and then suddenly tore

it off, at which the child only laughed and said, "How little would a

Volsung care for such a smart as that!" Then Signy knew that she might

send the lad at once to her brother; so she bade him go forthwith to

the earth house in the forest.

As soon as the lad, who was called Sinfiotli, came to Siegmund's hut,

he was told to knead the meal for the baking, just as his brothers had

been. Then he was left alone, and when Siegmund returned from

gathering firewood, the bread was ready baked and lying on the hearth.

When asked if he had seen anything move in the meal, the lad replied,

"Yes, I felt there was something alive in the sack, but whatever it

was I have kneaded it all together with the meal."

Then Siegmund laughed and said:--

"Naught wilt thou eat of bread this night, for thou hast kneaded up

the most deadly of serpents. Though I may eat of any poison and live,

there is no venom which thou mayst take and remain alive."

Now Sinfiotli stayed with Siegmund in the earth-dwelling, and was

trained in all things that befitted a warrior of the Volsungs.

Together they roamed the wild woods, hunting, fighting wild beasts and

plundering like outlaws--for in no other way could they gain wealth.

Sinfiotli soon forgot the days he had spent in King Siggeir's palace

and believed himself in very truth a Volsung. Now it happened that one

day as they journeyed together through the forest, they came upon a

certain house in which lay two men fast asleep. On the wrists and

ankles of the sleepers were heavy gold rings, and over their heads

hung two gray wolfskins. By this Siegmund knew that they were

werewolves and that this must be the tenth night--at which time the

spell is removed and the enchanted may resume their human shape.

Then Siegmund and Sinfiotli put on the wolfskins while the men lay

asleep; and having once done this, they could in no way free

themselves from the enchantment until the appointed time. So they

rushed forth into the forest howling like wolves, though each knew the

meaning of the other's cries. Having the nature of wild beasts, they

went in search of prey, but before taking their separate ways, they

agreed to come to each other's aid in this wise: that if more than

seven men set upon either of the twain, he should howl in wolfish

fashion so loud that his companion would hear him. So each went his

way, and in time Siegmund met with a band of men who set upon him with

spears; but he gave forth a deep, far-sounding howl that brought his

fellow-wolf at once to aid him. Still in his wolfish shape, Sinfiotli

killed every one of the men who had attacked Siegmund, and once more

the friends parted. Before he had gone far into the woods again,

Sinfiotli was suddenly surprised by eleven men with stout hunting

gear; but so fiercely did he fight that in a short time the whole

number were lying dead upon the ground.

As Sinfiotli, weary from the battle, lay under an oak tree, Siegmund

came to him, and seeing all the dead men, straightway asked, "Why did

you not howl to me for help?" And Sinfiotli answered, "I was loath to

call on you for the killing of only eleven men." Then a sudden wolfish

anger came over Siegmund, and he sprang upon Sinfiotli and bit him in

the throat. But as soon as he saw his friend lying dead, he sorrowed

greatly, and strove to bear the body on his back to the earth-house.

The following day, as he lay at the door of the dwelling, he saw two

weasels fighting, and one of them bit the other so that he died. Then

the destroyer ran into a thicket and returned with a leaf in his

mouth which he laid on the wound of the dead weasel. To Siegmund's

surprise, it immediately sprang up well and whole. Then a raven flew

overhead with a leaf of the same herb in his mouth, and this he

dropped just at the werewolf's feet. So Siegmund took the leaf and

laid it on Sinfiotli's wound, and he at once came to life again. Then

the two waited until the day on which the enchantment was ended and

they might cast off their wolf shapes. On this day they took the skins

and burned them in the fire, that no further harm might come to any

man through taking them.

Now by the time Sinfiotli had grown into manhood, Siegmund felt that

the hour had come for avenging the death of the Volsungs, for he had

tried the lad fully, and found no fear in him. So on a certain day

they both left the earth-house and came late in the evening to King

Siggeir's palace. They had no mind to walk at once into the king's

presence, so they hid themselves among some casks of ale which were

heaped up in the hall. While they lay thus hidden, Signy was aware of

their coming; and as the king sat drinking deep she came out to them

and spoke softly with them. Then they plotted together how they should

slay King Siggeir, but the queen dared not stay long with them lest

some servant should see her and tell it to the king.

Now that very night as the two children of Signy and the king were

playing with a ball, one of the rings came off, and, rolling out into

the hall, glided among the casks of ale. The children ran eagerly

after it, but when they spied the two grim and well-armed men among

the casks, they ran screaming to their father and told him what they

had seen. Then the king grew fearful that some evil was awaiting him;

and as he sat not knowing what to do, Signy led the children into the

hall and said to her brother: "See, these two have betrayed you. Kill

them, therefore." But Siegmund answered, "Never will I slay thy

children for telling where I lay hid." Hardly had he spoken these

words when Sinfiotli drew his sword and killed both the children. Then

he took up the bodies and cast them at King Siggeir's feet. This sight

roused such wrath in the king that he forgot his fear and ordered his

men to seize hold upon the strangers and bind them with fetters.

So Siegmund and Sinfiotli were set upon by a great company of the

king's men, but they fought so hard and bravely that many bodies lay

dead all around them, and those who were wounded long remembered this

night's fighting. At last the strangers were overpowered and bound

with strong chains. Then King Siggeir had them cast into a dungeon,

while he pondered all through the night as to what form of death he

could mete out to them. In the morning he had a great pit dug, and in

the midst of it he stood on end a flat stone that reached from one

side of the pit to the other, but was so high that none could climb

over it. Then he set Siegmund in the pit on one side of the flat

stone, and Sinfiotli on the other, and bade his men cover over the pit

with turf, that they might be buried alive. But while the servants

were laying on the turf, Signy came by with a bundle of straw in her

arms. This she threw into the pit to Sinfiotli, and bade the servants

say no word of it to the king. Then the covering of turf was laid on,

and Signy went her way again.

As soon as he judged the night had come, Sinfiotli unwrapped the

bundle of straw to make himself a bed; and as he groped through the

bale in the darkness he found a great lump of swine's flesh. This he

tore eagerly apart, for King Siggeir had given the captives naught to

eat since they were taken prisoners. Then as he was rending the flesh

in pieces, his fingers suddenly closed upon some hard steel; and when

he drew it forth he found in his hand a sword. It was Siegmund's

sword, the gift of Odin, which Signy had concealed in the straw

unknown to the king. Sinfiotli uttered a cry of joy, and grasping the

hilt firmly, he drove the point of the sword into the great rock that

divided him from Siegmund. So fierce a blow did he deal that the sword

cut through the stone up to the hilt; and by means of the great rent

which it made, the two captives were able to speak with each other.

Then Siegmund grasped the blade of the sword, and together he and

Sinfiotli worked all night until they had cut the great stone in half.

When dawn came, they had sawed so fiercely that the sword-blade glowed

in the darkness of the pit; and yet the keenness of its edge had never

dulled. Soon Siegmund had cut a way through the turf and stones that

covered the pit; and he and Sinfiotli stood together in front of King

Siggeir's palace. There was no sound within, for all were yet asleep;

so Siegmund and Sinfiotli crept softly into the hall carrying wood in

their arms; and this they placed in great piles around the sleepers.

Then they kindled a fire which spread quickly through the dry leaves

and wood; and the smell of it awoke the sleeping men, who looked about

and wondered why so thick a smoke was filling the hall. Soon the king

was wakened by the loud screams of the women, and when he saw the

smoke and flame he cried out,--

"Who has kindled this fire in which I burn?"

And Siegmund answered him from without the hall, "It is I, Siegmund

the Volsung, with Sinfiotli, my sister's son; and now thou mayst know

at last that all of my race are not dead."

Then he closed and barred the palace doors that none might escape, but

first he begged Signy to come quickly out of the hall lest she should

perish in the flames. And when she did not come, he offered her rich

gifts and a place of honour among her own people; but Signy stood by

the king's side and answered:--

"I have kept well in memory the slaying of the Volsungs, and that it

was King Siggeir who wrought the shameful deed. I sent two of my sons

into the forest to learn how to avenge the wrong, and then came unto

thee Sinfiotli who is a Volsung and none of King Siggeir's race. I

also bade thee kill my young children, since their words had betrayed

thee. For this and naught else have I wrought all these years that

Siggeir might get his bane at last. Now vengeance has fallen upon him,

but let the end come also to me, for merrily will I die with King

Siggeir, though I was not merry to wed with him."

So Signy perished in the fire with her husband, and many died with

them that the wrath of Siegmund the Volsung might be satisfied. Then

he gathered together a great company of folk, and filled many ships

with the treasures of King Siggeir, and with Sinfiotli he set sail for

his own land. When he reached the country of the Volsungs, he found

that a neighbouring king had usurped the throne, and was reigning in

the old king's stead. Siegmund drove him from the country and himself

took the throne of his father, where he ruled thereafter for many

years. He and Sinfiotli waged war with other kings, and their fame

spread abroad throughout the land. None could equal them in strength

and valour, and of all the Volsungs King Siegmund bade fair to be

greatest in renown.

* * * * *

As Regin spoke these last words, he turned to the youth at his side

and smiled when he saw the glow of pride that shone in Siegfried's

face as the master spoke of the brave deeds of the Volsungs.

"Shall I tell you the rest of the tale, and of how the sword of Odin

failed your father in his need?" he asked, knowing well the answer

Siegfried would make. Then the youth laid new coals on the fire; and

the master resumed the oft-told tale.

The Magic Sword

So Siegmund became a mighty king,--said Regin,--and was known far and

wide as the giver of rich gifts. In time of war he fought with

Sinfiotli at his side; and when peace reigned in the kingdom, the son

of Signy sat in the seat of honour by the king's throne. Now Sinfiotli

loved a fair woman who was also wooed by the brother of Borghild,

Siegmund's queen; and when they fought this matter out between them,

Sinfiotli killed the queen's brother and took the maiden for his wife.

Then Borghild demanded that the slayer be driven out of the kingdom

because of this deed; but Siegmund said that the man was killed in

fair fight, and therefore Sinfiotli should not pay the forfeit of

banishment. Hoping to soften the queen's anger, he offered her gold

and treasure as payment for her brother's life, but she would have

none of it. Seeing, however, that she could not win her way with the

king, she pretended to forgive the deed; and asked both Siegmund and

Sinfiotli to the funeral feast which she held in her brother's honour.

There were many guests gathered to the feast, and Borghild, the queen,

brought drink to each one. When she came to Sinfiotli with the great

horn in her hand, she said, "Drink now, fair stepson." But when the

youth looked into the horn he answered, "Nay, I will not, for the

drink is charmed." Then the queen laughed and handed the horn to

Siegmund, who drank the ale to the last drop, for no poison nor

charmed drink could work him any harm. A second time did Borghild come

to Sinfiotli with the horn in her hand offering him drink, and again

he refused it, saying, "Guile is in the drink." So Siegmund took the

horn and emptied it while the queen taunted Sinfiotli with his fears

and said, "Why must other men drink thine ale for thee?" A third time

Borghild came with the horn, and she goaded Sinfiotli with these

words, "Drink now, if there is in thee the heart of a Volsung." So he

took the horn, but when he looked into it, he said, "Venom is

therein."

Now by this time Siegmund was so dazed with drinking that he had

forgotten the queen's former hatred for her brother's slayer, and he

cried to Sinfiotli, "Drink and fear naught." So Sinfiotli drank, and

straightway fell down dead. When Siegmund saw the youth lying dead at

his feet, his senses returned to him, and he sorrowed greatly over the

words he had spoken. Then he lifted the body of Sinfiotli in his arms

and bore it out of the palace hall while the funeral guests sat

silent, none daring to intrude upon the king's sorrow. Now Siegmund

fared on through the woods till he came to the seashore, and here he

found a little boat with an old man seated at the oars. The man wore a

dark blue cloak, and his hat was drawn down over his face; but

Siegmund saw none of this, for his thoughts were with his dead

companion. The old man asked if they would be ferried to the other

side of the bay, and Siegmund came with his burden to the water's

edge. The little boat could not hold them all, so Siegmund laid the

body of Sinfiotli beside the ferryman. But as soon as it was placed

within, both the boat and the old man vanished, and Siegmund found

himself alone. Yet his heart was full of gladness, for he knew that it

was Odin himself who had come to take another Volsung to join the

heroes in Valhalla. Then Siegmund returned to his own hall, and so

hateful did the queen become in his eyes that he could bear the sight

of her no longer and drove her forth from the palace. Not many months

after this, word was brought to him that Borghild was dead.

Now there lived in a neighbouring country a wealthy king who had a

daughter named Hiordis--the fairest and wisest among women. When

Siegmund heard of the maiden's beauty, he desired to wed her, though

he himself was now well on in years. So he chose the bravest warriors

of his court, and with his horses well-loaded with gifts, he set out

for the country where Hiordis lived. At her father's palace he was

royally welcomed, and his proposals were received with favour; but

there was another king suing for the maiden's hand, so no promise

could be given to Siegmund. The father of Hiordis feared that,

whichever of the suitors was rejected, war and trouble would arise,

and therefore he knew not how to answer them. So he went to his

daughter and said: "You are a wise woman, and I will let this matter

rest in your hands. Choose a husband for yourself, and I will abide by

your choice though my whole kingdom be plunged into warfare." Then

Hiordis answered, "Though King Lyngi is far younger than Siegmund, yet

I will choose Siegmund for my husband, for his fame as a warrior is

greater and we can rely upon his strength." So Hiordis was wedded to

Siegmund the Volsung, and a great feast was held which lasted many

days. King Lyngi departed to his own country, but Siegmund knew that

he would hear of him again. After the wedding festivities were over,

the Volsungs returned home; but they had been there only a few days

before word was sent to Siegmund that King Lyngi had landed on his

coast with a host of followers, and demanded that the Volsungs should

meet him in battle.

Siegmund knew well that a great army had come against him, yet he

answered that he would fight until no man was left in his kingdom;

and accordingly he gathered his army together and met the forces of

King Lyngi in an open field. The enemy rushed from their boats in such

numbers that it seemed as if there was no end to them; and Siegmund

saw that his followers would be no match for the great horde of

fighting men that swept down from the enemy's ships. Nevertheless the

Volsungs fought bravely when the horns blew that called the men to

battle, and Siegmund, at the head of his army, cheered his followers

on to the fight. He rushed boldly through the ranks of the foe, and no

helmet or shield could withstand the stroke of his sword. So fiercely

did he fight that none could tell the tale of those who fell before

him, and his arms were red with blood even to the shoulders.

Now when the battle had raged a long while, there came a strange man

suddenly into the midst of the fight. He had a blue cloak upon his

shoulders, and a slouched hat was pulled down over his face so that

none might see he had only one eye. He advanced upon Siegmund with a

shield held aloft; and the leader of the Volsungs--now sore spent with

battle--knew not who the stranger might be, so he smote upon the

upraised shield with all his strength. Never yet had the magic sword

failed him in battle, but now it broke in half, and as its pieces fell

to the ground, the stranger in the blue cloak disappeared. Then

Siegmund knew who it was that had come against him, and he lost all

heart for the fight. His men fell fast all around him, and although he

fought on bravely, as became a Volsung, he saw that the battle was

already lost. Soon he himself received a mortal wound, and when his

men saw their leader drop from the ranks, they had no longer any hope

of victory, and died fighting half-heartedly beside the fallen

Siegmund.

Now Hiordis had left the palace with her handmaid when the battle

first began, and she lay hidden in the forest where none of King

Lyngi's people might find her. She had brought with her from the

palace as much gold and treasure as she and her bondwoman could carry,

that the conquering host might not enjoy the whole of Siegmund's

wealth. When most of the Volsungs had fallen in battle, and King Lyngi

knew himself victor, he hurried to the palace to take possession of

Siegmund's riches and also Siegmund's queen. But when he entered the

palace, he found everything in confusion. The treasure chests had been

emptied, and none of the frightened servants could tell him what had

happened nor where the queen might be found. So King Lyngi contented

himself with what riches he found, and that night his followers made

merry in the halls of the Volsung, drinking ale and boasting of the

day's victory.

When Hiordis heard the noise of the midnight revels, she crept out of

her hiding-place and sought for Siegmund among the countless dead. The

battle-field was a gruesome place, and she groped blindly and

fearfully among the wounded, hoping that it might be here and not

among the dead that she would find her lord. At last she came upon

Siegmund, and tried to staunch the blood that still flowed from his

wounds; but he put her aside, saying, "I will not suffer myself to be

healed, since Odin wills that I should never draw sword again." Then

the queen wept softly and answered, "If thou diest, who will then

avenge us?" And Siegmund said: "Fear not that the last of the Volsungs

has stood to do mighty deeds, for a son will be born to thee and me

who shall be greater than all those who have been before him. Cherish

carefully the pieces of Odin's sword which lie here beside me, for of

these shall a goodly sword be made, and our son shall bear it, and

with it he shall work many a great work so that his name shall be

honoured as long as the world endures. Go now, for I grow weary with

my wounds and would fain follow my kinsmen. Soon I shall be with all

the Volsungs who have gone before me."

So Hiordis the queen kept silent, but she stayed beside Siegmund until

the dawning; and when she knew he was dead, she took up the pieces of

the broken sword and carried them back with her into the forest. Then

she said to her handmaid: "Let us now change raiment, and do thou

henceforth be called by my name and say that thou art the king's

daughter. Look over there to the sea, where some ships are now sailing

toward our shores. Neither to King Lyngi nor to the strangers that are

approaching would I be known as Siegmund's queen." Then the women

changed raiment, and stood watching the ships as they neared the land.

The newcomers were not of King Lyngi's following, but were Vikings who

had put into that coast on account of the high seas; and when they

made a landing they came up over the shore and looked with wonder at

the battle-field and the great number of the dead. The leader of the

Vikings was Alf, the son of Hjalprek, king of Denmark, and as he gazed

across the battle-field he saw the two women watching him, so he sent

his men to bring them to him. When Hiordis and her handmaid stood

before Alf, he asked them why they were standing thus alone, and why

so many men lay dead upon the field. Then Hiordis, remembering the

lowly position she had assumed, kept silent, but the handmaid spoke to

him as befitted a king's daughter, and told him of the fall of

Siegmund and the death of the Volsungs at the hand of King Lyngi and

his hosts.

When Alf learned that the woman to whom he was speaking was of the

royal household, he asked if she knew where the Volsungs' treasure was

hid; and the bondmaid answered that she had the greater part of it

with her in the forest. So she led him to the spot where the gold and

silver lay; and such a wonder of wealth was there that the men thought

they had never seen so many priceless things heaped together in one

place. All this treasure the Vikings carried to their ships; and when

they set sail it was with the wealth of Siegmund on board as well as

Queen Hiordis and her handmaid. They spent many days on the sea before

they reached Denmark, and during that time Alf spoke frequently with

Hiordis and her maiden, but often he sat by the bondwoman's side,

believing her to be the king's daughter.

When the Vikings at last reached their own country, they were met by

the queen mother, who listened gladly to the tale of their wanderings

and welcomed the strangers to the palace. Before they had been home

many days, she came to King Alf and asked him why the fairer of the

two women had fewer rings and meaner attire than her companion. "For,"

she said, "I deem the one whom you have held of least account to be

the nobler born." And Alf answered: "I, too, have doubted that she is

really a bondmaid; for though she spoke but little when I first

greeted her, she bore herself proudly like a king's daughter. But now

let us make a trial of the two." So when the men were feasting that

night, Alf left his companions and came and sat down by the women.

Turning to the handmaiden, he said, "How do you know what is the hour

for rising in winter when there are no lights in the heavens?" And the

bondwoman answered, "In my youth I was wont to get up at dawn to begin

my tasks, and now I waken as soon as the day breaks."

"Ill manners for a king's daughter," laughed Alf, and, turning to

Hiordis, he asked her the same question.

The queen then unhesitatingly replied: "My father once gave me a

little gold ring, and this always grows cold on my finger as the day

dawns. Thus I know it is soon time to rise."

At these words King Alf sprang up, crying: "Gold rings are not given

to bondmaids. Thou art the king's daughter."

Then Hiordis the queen, seeing that she could deceive Alf no longer,

told him the truth concerning her history, and when he knew she was

the wife of Siegmund he decreed that she should be held in great

honour. Not long after this the son of Hiordis and Siegmund was born,

and great rejoicing was made throughout the kingdom, for when the

child was but a few days old, King Alf wedded Hiordis, whom he had

found the worthiest of women. The boy was much beloved by his

stepfather, and no one who looked upon him desired any other to

succeed King Alf upon the throne, for the child was beautiful to see,

brave and bold-looking, even as an infant. His eyes had already the

keenness of a falcon, and so straight and strong he grew that the

heart of King Alf was filled with joy.

When Regin reached this part of his story, he turned to Siegfried and

laid his hand on the youth's shoulder, saying: "The gods have placed

you among a kindly people, and given you a foster-father that has ever

sought to train you in wisdom and in strength. But you are not of this

people, and your place is not among them. Great deeds are in store for

you, and you are to be worthy of your race. All that I could teach

you, you have learned. Go forth, therefore, and by your own hand win

fame that shall add to the glory of the Volsungs. Tomorrow you shall

fashion a sword for your use, and it shall be mightier than any that

has come from our hands. But let us drop the tale now and sleep, for

it is almost daylight, and only a spark glimmers in the forge."

The next day Siegfried made ready the fire, but before he laid the

steel in it he asked Regin what had become of the pieces of Odin's

famous sword. "No one knows where they are hidden,"[43] answered the

master, "for on the death of your mother Hiordis, the secret was lost,

and no man can tell where the place of their hiding may be." So Regin

selected the very finest steel for Siegfried's sword, and the youth

set to work eagerly, for Regin's story had filled him with a burning

desire to go out into distant lands and do great deeds worthy of his

name and race. For seven days and nights he never left his forge, but

stood tempering and testing his steel, and throwing aside every piece

that did not seem perfect. At last a blade was finished that promised

to be worthy of a Volsung. Regin praised it highly and said he had

never felt a finer edge. But Siegfried only said, "Let us prove it."

So he took the sword and smote with all his strength upon the anvil.

The blade shivered into a dozen pieces.

[43] In the Volsunga Saga the queen, who is still living,

gives the pieces of the sword to Sigurd.

Nothing disheartened, Siegfried set to work again, and spent many days

and nights at his forge, often forgetting to eat or sleep in his

eagerness to finish his task. When at last the steel had been finely

tempered and seemed of perfect workmanship, he called to Regin and

bade him try its strength. "Nay, let us not dull the edge," replied

the master; "there is no need to put it to the test, for I can see

that it is true and strong." But Siegfried took the sword and smote

again upon the anvil; this time the blade was blunted, though it did

not break in pieces. Then Regin besought him to try no longer, but

the youth, grim and determined, returned to the forge and made ready

his tools for another effort.

That night he paused many times in his work, and often felt so

discouraged that he was tempted to give up the task; but each time he

became ashamed of his weakness, and bravely set to work again. Once

when he sat down by the fire to rest, he was conscious of some one's

being in the room, but thinking it was Regin who had come to inspect

his work, he did not look up to see. At length, however, the silence

grew uncomfortable, and Siegfried turned around. Close beside him was

standing a tall man wrapped in a dark blue mantle. His beard and hair

were very long and very white, and by the dim light of the fire

Siegfried noticed that he had only one eye. His face was kindly, and

his whole presence had an air both gentle and reassuring, yet

something about him filled the youth with a strange awe. He waited for

the stranger to speak, but no word came, and Siegfried began to

tremble with nervous fear. At this the old man smiled, and handed him

the pieces of a broken sword. Siegfried took them in wonder, but

before he could frame a question he found himself suddenly alone; the

stranger had disappeared.

The next morning Siegfried hastened to Regin and told him of his

strange visitor. Regin thought at first that the lad had been

dreaming, but when he saw the pieces of broken sword, he cried out

joyfully:

"Fortune now be with you, Siegfried; for it was no other than Odin

who visited you, and these pieces are of the famous sword which in

former days the ruler of the gods gave to your father. There is no

fear for your future now, since Odin has chosen to watch over your

welfare; and by his decree you will stand or fall."

Grasping the pieces of Odin's sword firmly in his hand, Siegfried

welded them together into a mighty weapon, the strongest that had ever

come from the hand of man. And he called the sword Balmung.[44] Then

he bade Regin test the mettle of the new blade, and when the master

looked upon it, it seemed as though a fire burned along the edges of

the sword. Now Siegfried grasped the weapon in his two hands and smote

with all his strength upon the anvil, but no pieces of steel fell

shattered at his feet, for the sword had cut the anvil in two as

easily as if it had been a feather. So Siegfried was satisfied.

[44] In the Volsunga Saga the sword is called Gram.

[Illustration: Siegfried and the Famous Sword Balmung]

The Slaying of Fafnir[45]

[45] In the Volsunga Saga the hero is now often called

Sigurd, Fafnir's bane.

One day Regin said to Siegfried, "You have forged for yourself the

famous sword Balmung as your father Siegmund foretold. Now it remains

for you to fulfil the rest of the prophecy and win fame that will add

glory to the name of the Volsungs. Of my celebrated wisdom you have

already learned all there is of worth, and there are no ties to hold

you to this people; but before you leave the land which has nourished

you, there is one more task which I would fain lay upon you--the

slaying of the dragon which guards a wonderful treasure."

"How can I start out upon adventures with nothing but a sword, even

though that sword be Odin's gift?" asked Siegfried. "I have no horse,

and I should make a sorry appearance if I went on foot."

"Go out into yonder meadow," said Regin, "and there you will find the

best steeds that King Alf has gathered either by purchase or as the

spoil of battle. Choose yourself one from among them; they are all of

noble race."

Siegfried went over to the meadow where the stately horses were

grazing, and saw that each one of them was truly fine enough to be the

charger of a king's son. Indeed, they all seemed to him so desirable

that there was none which he would prefer above another. While he was

hesitating, he heard a voice at his side ask, "Would you choose a

steed, Sir Siegfried?"

Siegfried turned quickly around, for he had not heard any one

approaching, and his heart beat fast when he saw beside him a tall

form wrapped in a blue mantle. He dared not look closer, and he

trembled now with both fear and joy, for the form and voice were

strangely familiar. Then falteringly he answered:--

"I would indeed choose, but all the horses seem to me to be of equal

beauty and strength."

The stranger shook his head and said: "There is one horse here which

far surpasses all the rest, for he came from Odin's pastures on the

sunny slopes of Asgard. He it is you must choose."

"Gladly would I do so," replied Siegfried, "but I am too ignorant to

know which he is."

"Drive all the horses into the river," said the old man, "and I think

you will then find the choice easy."

So Siegfried drove them out of the meadow, and down a steep bank into

the stream below. They all plunged in boldly, but soon began to

struggle frantically against the current which was bearing them

rapidly down the river upon a bank of rocks below. Some of the horses

turned back when they felt the force of the water; some fought

helplessly against it and were carried down toward the rocks; but one

swam to the other side and sprang up on the green bank. Here he

stopped a moment to graze, then he plunged again into the stream, and,

breasting the current with apparent ease, he swam to the shore and

stood at Siegfried's side.

The youth stroked the stately head and looked into the large,

beautiful eyes. Then turning to the stranger he said, "This is he."

"Yes," replied the old man, "this is he, and a better steed did man

never have. His name is Greyfel,[46] and he is yours as a gift from

Odin."

[46] The horse is called Grani in the Volsunga Saga.

So saying, the strange visitor disappeared, and Siegfried returned to

his forge full of joy and pride, for he knew that no other than the

Father of the Gods himself had come to direct his choice.

When Regin heard of this second visit of Odin's he said to Siegfried:

"You are truly blest and favoured of the gods, and it may be that you

are the one chosen to perform the task of which I have already spoken

to you. I have cherished the hope for many years that in you I might

find one brave enough to face the dragon, and restore the treasure to

its rightful owner." Then he told Siegfried of Andvari's hoard, and of

how it came to be guarded by the dragon Fafnir. "This monster," he

continued, "does not rest satisfied with the possession of his

treasure, but must needs live upon the flesh of men; and he has thus

become the terror of all the country round. Many brave men have sought

to slay him for the sake of the gold, but they have only miserably

perished; for the dragon breathes out fire which will consume ten men

at a breath; and he spits forth poison so deadly that one drop of it

can kill. He is, as I have told you, my brother, but nevertheless I

bid you slay him."

"I will go," cried Siegfried, eagerly; "for though the monster be all

that you have said, with Greyfel and my sword Balmung I fear neither

man nor beast."

The following day Siegfried bade farewell to King Alf and started on

his journey, taking Regin with him, since the latter knew the road so

well and could guide him to the dragon's cave. They travelled for many

days and nights, and at last came to a narrow river whose current was

so fierce that no boat, Regin said, was ever known to brave its

waters. But neither Siegfried nor Greyfel felt a touch of fear, and

the noble horse carried both riders safely to the opposite bank. Here

they found themselves at the foot of a tall mountain, which seemed to

rise straight up like a wall from the river's edge. It was apparently

of solid rock, for no tree or shrub or blade of grass grew upon its

steep side. There were no sounds of birds in the air, no sign of any

living thing inhabiting this dreary place; nothing to see but the

rushing river over which the mountain cast its gloomy shadow. It was

enough to dishearten the stoutest hero, but Siegfried refused to turn

back, though Regin, now trembling and fearful, besought him to give up

the adventure.

They went on some distance farther along the river bank, to a place

where the mountain appeared less rocky and forbidding. There were

patches of earth to be seen here and there, and occasionally a

straggling tree sought to strike its roots into the unfriendly soil.

Pointing up through the trees, Regin said:--

"Look close and you will see what seems to be a path worn in the

earth. It reaches from the mountain top down to the water's edge, and

it is the trail of the dragon. Over this he will come to-morrow at

sunrise, but think not to encounter him face to face, for you could

not do it and live. You must depend upon stratagem if you would hope

to slay him. Dig, therefore, a series of pits and cover them with

boughs, so that the dragon, as he rushes down the mountain side, may

fall into one of them and not get out until you have slain him. As

for me, I will go some distance below, where the view of Fafnir's cave

is plainer, and I can warn you of his approach." So saying, he went

away, and Siegfried remained alone, wondering at Regin's cowardice,

but content to face the danger with only the help of Balmung.

It was now night, and the place became full of unknown terrors. Even

the stars and the moon were hidden by thick clouds, and Siegfried

could hardly see to dig his pits. Every time he struck the earth, the

blow brought a deep echo from the mountain, and now and then he heard

the dismal hoot of an owl. There was no other sound save the noise of

the swiftly running river, and his own heavy breathing as he worked

away at his task.

Suddenly he was aware that some one was standing beside him, and when

he turned to look, his heart beat fast with joy, for even in the

darkness he fancied he saw the blueness of the stranger's coat, and

his long, white beard beneath the hood.

"What are you doing in this dismal country, Sir Siegfried?" asked the

old man.

"I have come to slay Fafnir," replied the youth.

"Have you no fear, then?" continued the stranger, "or no love for your

life that you risk it thus boldly? Many a brave man has met death ere

this in the perilous encounter you would try. You are young yet, and

life is full of pleasures. Give up this adventure, then, and return to

your father's hall."

"No, I cannot," answered Siegfried. "I am young, it is true, but I

have no fear of the dragon, since Odin's sword is in my hands."

"It is well said," replied the old man; "but if you are to accomplish

the slaying of Fafnir, do not dig any pits here on the river's bank,

for it will be of no avail. But go up on the mountain side until you

have found a narrow path worn deep into the earth. It is Fafnir's

trail, and over it he is sure to come. Dig there a deep pit, and hide

in it yourself, first covering the top with a few boughs. As the

dragon's huge body passes over this, you can strike him from beneath

with your sword."

As the stranger finished speaking, Siegfried turned to thank him, but

he saw no one there; only Greyfel was standing at his side. But his

courage now rose high, for he knew that it was Odin who had talked

with him. He hurried up the mountain side and soon found the dragon's

trail. Here he dug a deep pit and crept into it himself, covering the

top as Odin had directed. For hours he lay still and waited, and it

seemed to him that the night would never end. At last a faint streak

of light appeared in the east, and it soon grew bright enough for

Siegfried to see plainly about him. He raised one corner of his roof

of boughs and peeped cautiously out. Just then there came a terrible

roar which seemed to shake the whole mountain. This was followed in a

moment by a loud rushing sound like some mighty wind, and the air was

full of heat and smoke as from a furnace. Siegfried dropped quickly

back into his hiding-place, for he knew that the dragon had left his

cave.

Louder and louder grew the fearful sound, as the monster rushed

swiftly down the mountain side, leaving smoke and fire in his trail.

His claws struck deep into the ground, and in his rapid descent he

sometimes tore up the roots of trees. His huge wings flapping at his

side made a frightful noise, while the black scaly tail left behind it

a track of deadly slime. On he went until, all unknowing, he glided

over the loosely strewn boughs which covered the pit, and Siegfried

struck with his good sword Balmung. It seemed to him that he had

struck blindly. Yet in a moment he knew that the blow was sure and had

pierced the monster's heart, for he heard it give one roar of mortal

pain. Then, as he drew out his sword, the huge body quivered an

instant and rolled with a crash down the mountain side. But in drawing

out his sword from the dragon's heart, a great gush of blood followed

which bathed Siegfried from head to foot in its crimson stream. He did

not heed this, however, but sprang out of the pit and hurried down

to where the dragon, so lately a thing of dread and horror, now lay

apparently lifeless at the foot of the mountain.

[Illustration: Siegfried fighting the Dragon]

When Fafnir was aware that he had received his death-wound, he began

to lash out fiercely with his head and tail, in hopes that he would

thereby kill the thing which had destroyed him. But Siegfried stayed

at a safe distance; and when he saw the dragon cease its frantic

struggles and lie quiet on the ground, he came nearer and gazed at it

in wonder and half in fear--for Fafnir, though dying, was still a

terrible creature to look upon.

The dragon slowly raised its head as Siegfried approached, and said,

"Who art thou, and who is thy father and thy kin that thou wert so

bold as to come against me?" At first Siegfried was loath to tell his

name[47]; but soon he felt ashamed of his fears and answered boldly:

"Siegfried I am called, and my father was Siegmund the Volsung." Then

said Fafnir, "Who urged thee to this deed?" and Siegfried answered, "A

bold heart urged me; and my strong hand and good sword aided me to do

the deed."

[47] There is an old superstition that the curse of the dying

is sure to be fulfilled if he knows his enemy's name.

Now Fafnir knew well who it was that had set the youth upon this

adventure, and he said: "Of what use is it to lie? Regin, my brother,

hath sent thee to work my death, for he is eager to gain the treasure

which I guarded these many years. Go, therefore, and seek it out, but

first I will give thee this counsel; turn away thy steps from this

ill-fated gold, for a curse rests upon it, and it shall be the bane of

every one that possesses it." As he spoke these words, Fafnir gave a

fearful shudder that seemed to make the trees around him tremble; and

in a moment Siegfried saw that the great dragon was dead.

Then Regin crept out of his hiding-place, and drew near to the dead

creature, peering closely into the dull, glazed eyes to see if it were

really a thing no longer to be feared. A look of hatred came into his

face, but it disappeared quickly when he turned to the youth at his

side and said:--

"Bravely done, Siegfried! You have this day wrought a great deed which

shall be told and sung as long as the world stands fast." Then he

added eagerly, "Have you found the hoard?"

"I did not look for it," answered Siegfried; "for after what you have

told me of the curse which rests upon it, I had no desire to touch

it."

Regin seemed now to be trembling with excitement, and he exclaimed

hurriedly: "We must seek it at once, yes, at once, before any one can

come to claim it and we thereby lose a wonderful treasure. But let me

go alone to find it, for you would surely lose your way." Then as he

saw Siegfried wiping his blood-stained sword on the earth, he grasped

the youth's arm fiercely and said: "Do not put the blade into its

sheath until you have done one thing further. While I am searching for

the cave, do you cut out Fafnir's heart and roast it, that I may eat

it upon my return."

While he was speaking, Regin's face had lost its usual gentle and

kindly look, and had become crafty and sly and full of cruel cunning.

He looked now and then suspiciously at Siegfried, but the youth turned

his head away, for he could not bear to look on at such a dreadful

transformation. Meanwhile Regin was muttering to himself: "The gold!

the gold! and precious gems in great glittering heaps! All of

Andvari's hoard is mine now,--all mine." And he hurried away, leaving

Siegfried surprised and sorrowing to find how soon the curse of that

ill-fated gold had fallen on its would-be possessor.

When Regin had gone, Siegfried set to work to roast Fafnir's heart,

and when the dreadful meal was cooked, he laid it upon the grass, but

in so doing, some of the blood dropped upon his hand. Wondering what

taste there could be in the dragon's heart to make Regin desire to eat

it, Siegfried put the finger, on which the blood had dropped, to his

lips. All at once he heard a hum of voices in the air. It was only a

flock of crows flying overhead and chattering to themselves, but it

sounded like human voices, and Siegfried could plainly tell what the

crows were saying. A moment later two ravens came flying by, and he

heard one of them say, "There sits Siegfried roasting Fafnir's heart

that he may give it to Regin, who will taste the blood, and so be able

to understand the language of birds."

"Yes," replied the other raven, "and he is waiting for Regin to

return, not knowing that when Regin has taken possession of the hoard,

he will come back and slay Siegfried."

The youth listened to these words in sorrow and surprise, for in spite

of the look which he had seen on Regin's face, he could not believe

his master guilty of such murderous thoughts.

Soon Regin returned, but what a change had come over him. Siegfried

saw that the raven's words were indeed true, and that the curse of

Andvari had fallen upon the new possessor of the hoard. If Regin's

face had been mean and crafty before, it was now ten times more

dreadful, and his mouth wore an evil smile which made Siegfried

shudder. It seemed, too, as if his body had shrunk, and its motion was

not unlike the gliding of a serpent. He was talking to himself as he

came along, and appeared to be counting busily on his fingers. When

Siegfried spoke, he looked up and eyed him furtively, then his face

became suddenly black with rage, and he sprang at the youth, crying:

"Fool and murderer, you shall have none of the gold. It is mine, all

mine."

With the strength of a madman he dashed Siegfried upon the ground, and

seizing a large stick struck him with all his force. But Siegfried

sprang up quickly and, drawing Balmung, prepared to defend himself

against Regin's attack. Enraged now to the point of frenzy, Regin

struck again and again, and suddenly, in his blind fury, rushed upon

Siegfried's sword. Siegfried uttered a cry of horror and closed his

eyes, for he could not look upon the painful sight. When he opened

them again, Regin was lying dead at his feet. Then he drew out his

sword, and, sitting down beside his slain friend, wept bitterly. At

length he arose, and mounting Greyfel rode sorrowfully away.

The good horse bore him straight to Glistenheath--to the cave where

Fafnir had hidden the ill-fated hoard. Here he found gold and gems in

such heaps that his eyes were dazzled, and he turned away fearing to

burden himself with the treasure and the curse which rested upon it.

But from the pile he took Andvari's ring, which he placed upon his

finger, and a gold helmet. He also chose from the treasures of the

hoard a magic cape and a shield. Then he remounted Greyfel, after

placing upon him as many sacks of gold as the horse could well carry.

The Valkyrie[48]

[48] From this chapter on, the incidents follow the story in

the Nibelungenlied.

For many days Siegfried travelled on, saddened and discouraged, and

having no heart for further adventures, since his first one had ended

so sadly. He felt that he cared but little what became of him, and,

letting the reins lie loose on Greyfel's neck, he allowed the horse to

carry him wherever it would. At night he rested under the shade of the

forest trees, and by day he wandered aimlessly over the country, too

disheartened even to wish to return to King Alf's court again. But

although he did not care to guide Greyfel, the horse was being led by

a hand far wiser than his own, for Odin had other tasks in store for

Siegfried, and it was he who now directed the young hero's path.

One day at nightfall they came to the foot of a mountain[49] and

Greyfel stopped, as if waiting for his master to dismount. Siegfried,

not wishing to rest here, urged his horse forward; but, for the first

time, Greyfel refused to obey. His master, wondering at this

stubbornness, but too tired and indifferent to force him further,

dismounted and prepared to remain where he was for the night.

Something about the place, its loneliness and silence, recalled the

other mountain side where his first deed of glory and his first great

sorrow had come to him. He could not sleep, so he wandered about among

the trees, now and then stopping to listen as some sound broke the

stillness of the night.

[49] The mountain was called Hindfell.

Once when he was looking toward the mountain top, he fancied he caught

the glimmer of a light somewhere among the trees; and as he watched it

longer, he saw what appeared to be tongues of flame leaping up and

then disappearing. Alert now, and eager to get nearer this strange

sight, he mounted Greyfel and directed him toward the fire. The horse

obeyed readily, seeming to know the way; and when Siegfried drew

nearer, he found that this was no common fire, but a circle of flames

enclosing a large rock. There was no path up the mountain, and

Siegfried felt uncertain whether to proceed. The horse, however, did

not hesitate, but began the ascent boldly, picking his way among the

trees and over the fallen trunks; sometimes stumbling and sometimes

bruising his legs, but never once faltering or showing a desire to

turn back.

Suddenly Siegfried felt upon his face a scorching wind followed by

thick smoke that blinded his eyes. A quick turn of Greyfel's had

brought them almost upon a wall of leaping flames, which rose so high

that Siegfried could see nothing beyond them. The intense heat burned

his face, and he dared not open his eyes to look about him. Greyfel

snorted and pawed the ground, then suddenly made a movement forward as

if to plunge into the flames. For an instant Siegfried thought of the

prophecy made by his father Siegmund that he should be the greatest of

the Volsungs, and he hesitated to risk his life thus lightly. Then he

felt ashamed of the momentary cowardice, and with but one quick throb

of fear at the peril he was rushing into, he bent forward and spurred

Greyfel into the fire.

It was all over in an instant. He felt the scorching flames lick his

face, and then he heard the horse's feet strike upon solid rock. When

he opened his eyes to look about him, he realized that he had ridden

through the fire all unharmed, and he was full of wonder at his

safety. Greyfel, too, was unhurt; not a single hair upon his mane was

singed; and Siegfried offered a silent prayer to Odin, who had guided

them through such peril.

He dismounted and looked about, and found that he was standing upon

the rock which he had seen from below, and which he now discovered to

be completely encircled by the wall of fire. But stranger even than

this was the sight of a man lying full length upon the rock, and

seemingly unconscious of the fire which was raging all around him.[50]

His shield was on the ground beside him, but his helmet covered his

face so that Siegfried could not tell whether he was dead or sleeping.

His figure was youthful and his dress of richest texture, while the

armor which he bore seemed too fine to bear the brunt of warfare.

[50] In the Volsunga Saga, Brunhilde lies asleep in a

shield-hung castle surrounded by fire.

For a long time Siegfried stood beside the unconscious figure,

wondering whether he had best awake the sleeper, or go away and leave

him undisturbed. At last his curiosity became too strong, and, lifting

the youth gently, he raised the helmet and gazed with wonder and

delight at the beautiful face beneath. Then, as the sleeper did not

awake, Siegfried took off his helmet, hoping thus to rouse him; but

what was his surprise to see a shower of long golden hair fall down

over the shoulders of the seeming youth. He started back so suddenly

that the maiden awoke, and looking up at Siegfried said softly, "So

you have come at last."

The young hero was too astonished to make any reply, but remained

kneeling beside her, waiting for her to speak again. He wondered

whether she was really human, or only some spirit of the night. Seeing

his surprise, the maiden smiled, and, seating herself upon the rock,

she pointed to a place beside her and said:--

"Sit down, Sir Siegfried, and I will tell you my story, and how I came

to be sleeping in this strange place."

Still wondering, especially at hearing himself thus addressed,

Siegfried obeyed, and the maiden began:--

[Illustration: Valkyrie bearing Hero to Valhalla]

"My name is Brunhilde, and I am one of Odin's Valkyries, or choosers

of the slain. There are eight of us who do this service, and we ride

to battle on swift-winged horses, wearing such armor as warriors

carry, except that it is invulnerable.[51] We go into the midst of the

fight even when it is fiercest, and when any of the heroes whom Odin

has chosen are slain, we raise him from the battle-field, lay him

before us on the horse, and ride with him to Asgard, to the place

called Valhalla. This is a beautiful hall made of gold and marble, and

it has five and forty doors wide enough for eight hundred warriors to

march in abreast. Inside, its roof is made of golden shields, and its

walls are hung with spears of polished steel that give a wonderful

bright light to all the hall. Every day the warriors drink of the mead

which is prepared for the gods themselves, and they feast on the meat

of a wonderful boar[52] which is daily slain and boiled in the

great caldron, and which always comes to life again just before the

heroes are ready to eat.

[51] The light made by the gleaming shields of the Valkyries

was the Aurora Borealis.

[52] The boar was called Serimnir.

"Sometimes Odin sits at the board and shares the feast with them, and

when the Valkyries are not doing service on the battle-field, they lay

aside their armor and clothe themselves in pure white robes, to wait

upon the heroes. When the feast is over, the warriors call for their

weapons, and spear in hand they go out into the great courtyard, where

they fight desperate battles and deal terrible wounds, performing

deeds of valour such as they achieved while on the earth. Since in

Asgard there is no dying, every combatant who receives some terrible

wound is healed at once by magic power. Thus the heroes share the

blessings and privileges of the gods, and live forever, having won

great fame and glory.

"Now there was a certain battle being waged in a country far from

here, in which the combatants were an old warrior named Helm Gunnar,

and a youth called Agnar. Odin had commanded me to bear Helm Gunnar to

Valhalla, and leave the other to the mercy of the conquerors. The

youth of Agnar moved me, however, to pity; so I left the old warrior

upon the battle-field, though he was already sore wounded. Then I

lifted Agnar from the ground, and, laying him upon my horse, I carried

him to Asgard.

"In punishment for my disobedience and daring, the All-father took

from me forever my privilege of being a Valkyrie, or shield-maiden. He

also condemned me to the life of a mortal, and then he brought me to

this rock, where he stung me with the sleep-thorn, and made this my

sleeping place. But first he surrounded the rock with a wall of fire,

and he decreed that I should sleep here until a hero who knew no fear

should ride through the flames and waken me. I am well versed in the

lore of runes, and I read there long ago that he who knows no fear is

Siegfried, the slayer of Fafnir. Therefore thou art Siegfried and my

deliverer."

For a long time Brunhilde talked with him, and told him many wonderful

things, of the noble deeds of heroes and of bloody battles fought in

far-off lands. Then, knowing that he was but a youth in spite of his

brave acts, she imparted to him something of the wisdom she had gained

as "one of the greatest among great women"--for thus it was that men

spoke of her. She warned Siegfried of the dangers he would encounter

on his journey, and bade him beware of the wiles of those who would

call themselves his friends. She charged him to abide always by his

oath, "for great and grim is the reward for the breaking of plighted

troth."

"Bear and forbear, and so win for thyself long, enduring praise of

men.

[Illustration: Wotan's Farewell to Brunhilde]

"Give kind heed to dead men--sick-dead, sea-dead, or sword-dead."

Thus spoke Brunhilde, and Siegfried listened, and ever, as she stopped

speaking, he begged to hear still more. Then she read for him many

things written in the runes, and Siegfried listened, marvelling at her

wisdom.

The circle of fire had now burnt itself out, but daylight had come,

and Siegfried could plainly see the perilous ascent he had made up the

mountain. Brunhilde took his hand and bade him farewell, but, before

she left him, Siegfried put upon her finger the ring which he had

taken from Andvari's hoard. Then he watched her depart toward her

castle in Isenland, feeling very lonely, and wishing he might follow

her. But Greyfel's head was turned a different way, and Siegfried knew

that Odin had other things for him to do, so he allowed the horse to

carry him away from Brunhilde's country, though he would fain have

gone thither. And Siegfried longed for the maiden, and sorrowed at

parting from her; but Brunhilde, though she loved him well, bade him

go his way, since thus it was written in the runes that not she, but

another, should be the wife of Siegfried.