Siegfried at Gunther's Court

For several days Siegfried rode across the country without meeting any

one who could tell him in what land he was, or whither the roads would

lead him. At times he longed to return to the palace of King Alf, and

again he hoped that Odin was conducting him to new adventures which

would prove that his father Siegmund had not prophesied great things

of him in vain. He was growing very weary of the continued stretch of

forest and mountain that never seemed to end, and he began to wonder

whether his dream of greatness was not, after all, a thing of

shadows--a mere will-o'-the-wisp, which it would be foolish for him to

follow. Yet Odin's sword was in his hand, and the strange blue-cloaked

old man had already come to help him when he was most in need of

guidance. So, not knowing, himself, in which direction to go, he let

the reins lie loosely on Greyfel's neck, and trusted to Odin to lead

them.

Soon the forest ended and they came out into the open country where

Siegfried hoped he might meet with some one who could tell him whither

he was faring. The landscape now changed to meadows and ploughed

fields, with here and there a castle perched high on the protecting

hills. Siegfried kept as much as he could on the well-travelled roads,

since there he would be most likely to meet with some other rider who

could direct his way; but all those whom he saw seemed to be

wanderers, like himself, and they could tell him little of the country

or the people. In return, they would ask him whither he was going, and

what was the object of his journey, but to all questions he offered no

reply save that he was travelling in search of adventures. But at

heart he had no desire for adventures, unless they led him among

people and into the life of the world. He had grown weary of his

solitude and his aimless wandering, and longed for the companionship

of men.

One day, late in the evening, he found himself on the edge of a thick

forest. He did not wish to enter this, for it looked dark and

impenetrable, and already Greyfel was picking his way among brambles

and over uncertain ground; so he turned the horse's head and prepared

to go back to the road he had lately left. But Greyfel knew better

than his master where to go, and persisted in moving forward into what

seemed to be the very heart of the forest. In a moment, however,

Siegfried found that they were not stumbling helplessly about, for he

heard the sharp, clear sound of the horse's hoofs upon a hard road,

while the glimmer of many lights in the distance told him he was not

in a forest wilderness, but near some great city. Soon he met a man

on horseback, and inquired of him what country this was, and whither

the road would lead him.

"This is Burgundy, sir," answered the stranger, "and yonder is the

city where King Gunther[53A] himself dwells. There you are sure of

finding shelter and entertainment for the night." Siegfried thanked

him, and spurred Greyfel toward the city.

In the palace of King Gunther, a great feast was being held. There was

wine in costly beakers, and meat served upon plates of gold. At the

place of each guest was a silver goblet, and these were often lifted

high as the company drank to the health of Gunther and all his noble

race. While the men feasted and drank, the women of the household

stood at the palace windows looking down the road to see if some

strolling minstrel might not be passing by who could be summoned in to

help them beguile the weary hours that would follow the days of

feasting.

The king's mother, Queen Ute,[53B] was busy with her loom, for she

cared no longer for the gayety of the palace nor for any entertainment

that some wandering harper might provide. She was a wise woman,

learned in magic arts and the reading of dreams.

One day when her daughter, Kriemhild,[53C] the beautiful sister of

King Gunther, came to her with troubled face, she asked the maiden why

she seemed so sad, and Kriemhild answered: "I dreamed last night that

a hawk with feathers of gold lighted on my wrist; and naught was so

dear to me as this hawk. And I dreamed that I told both you and the

king, my brother, that I would cast aside all my rich raiment and gems

rather than lose the hawk that was feathered with gold."

[53A], [53B], [53C] In the Volsunga Saga, Gunther is called Gunnar,

Ute is called Grimhild, and Kriemhild is called Gudrun.

Then said Queen Ute, the witch-wife: "Trouble not yourself over

strange dreams. A hero is coming to woo you, and he shall stay at your

side even as the hawk upon your wrist."

Now on this day when King Gunther was feasting,[54] and the women idly

watched the long white line of road where often a gallant horse and

rider came galloping toward the castle gates, the fair Kriemhild

suddenly exclaimed that some one was riding slowly along the road. Her

mother rose from the loom, and standing by the open window she watched

the approaching figure with great interest. Then Queen Ute said:--

[54] In the Volsunga Saga, Siegfried goes to the court of

Giuki, king of the Niblungs, who has three sons: Gunnar,

Hogni and Guttorm.

"That is no wandering harper, child, for see how nobly he sits his

horse. It is some knight with tidings from a far country, or some king

come hither to claim your brother's hospitality. But summon Hagen and

question him concerning the stranger." So Kriemhild went out into the

hall where Gunther and his vassals sat at the great table drinking and

singing war-songs. Stepping softly to her uncle's side, she whispered

that a stranger was approaching the castle, and begged him to look out

and see if he knew who the rider might be.

Hagen[55] was the oldest and most formidable warrior in all the land

of Burgundy. He was tall and powerfully built, and gave the impression

of great strength, in spite of his gray hairs. His face was dark and

deeply furrowed, and the frown which he always wore made him look grim

and stern, as indeed he was. He had never been known to care for any

one or to show the least regard for even his own sister Ute and her

household. Only toward Gunther, his liege lord, did Hagen have perfect

loyalty and a kind of doglike fidelity, which kept him ever at the

king's side in the midst of the fiercest battles, and constant at his

service at the court when Gunther needed his advice or support. He was

famous, too, for his skill in statecraft, and in all matters of

government was considered wiser than any of the king's other

counsellors. He also added to this a wonderful knowledge of men and

things, and could recount the deeds of famous heroes, all of whom he

knew by name and lineage.

[55] Called Hogni, in the Volsunga Saga. He is the king's

brother--not his uncle, as in the Nibelungenlied.

When Hagen came to the window at Kriemhild's request, he looked out

for some moments in silence, then he said: "The youth whom you see

approaching is Siegfried, the slayer of Fafnir, and owner of a famous

hoard.[56] It would be well for the king if he made this man his

guest."

[56] In the Nibelungenlied, Siegfried took the treasure from

two princes, the sons of King Niblung.

The queen hastened to send word to the porters to open the castle

gates and invite the stranger to enter. Then she told the king that a

noble prince had come to be his guest.

So Gunther and Hagen, followed by a retinue of knights, went to the

great door of the palace and welcomed Siegfried to Burgundy. The young

hero was surprised and pleased at such a cordial reception, and when

the king urged him to remain with them some days, he gladly consented,

for the castle with its gracious household seemed a pleasant

resting-place after his days of wandering.

Many feasts were now given, and games were held in Siegfried's honour,

to which all the princes of Burgundy were invited. The king would not

allow him to speak of leaving them, and Siegfried was readily

persuaded to stay yet longer, for the days passed quickly and happily

at Gunther's court. The king became his friend and constant

companion, and the beautiful Kriemhild often talked with him. Only

Hagen kept aloof, grim, silent and distrustful.

Just before Siegfried's arrival, Gunther had become involved in a war

with one of the neighbouring princes, and as the number of his forces

was much inferior to that of the enemy, he feared defeat and the

possible loss of his crown. Since the very beginning, fortune had been

against him, and he grew daily more fearful lest it should end in the

overthrow of his kingdom. Not wishing to risk another disastrous

battle, Hagen went to the king one day and said: "Let us not allow

Siegfried to sit idly here in the palace while we go to the

battle-field. Bid him help us before it is too late."

"Nay, he is our guest," replied the king.

"What of that," cried Hagen, impatiently; "he has been here many days,

and, as he holds himself your friend, your cause should be his also.

We need help, and he alone is powerful enough to turn the tide of

battle in our favour. He has a magic cloak called the Tarnkappe, which

is of little use to him as he sits here in the palace. He also has the

mighty Balmung, which was forged from the pieces of Odin's famous

sword, and which should not be allowed to hang idle at his side. With

Siegfried as an ally, no enemy can stand against us. Entreat him,

therefore, before another day has passed."

[Illustration: Siegfried's Triumphant Entry into Burgundy with

Captives and Spoils]

So Gunther sought out Siegfried, and, after telling him of the plight

of the Burgundians, begged him to aid them.

"Right willingly will I join you, my friend," said Siegfried. "There

is nothing I would gladlier do than help your cause. I would have been

at your side long since had not your gentle sister besought me not to

trouble myself over the affairs of your kingdom, and assured me that

your forces were more than a match for the enemy."

The next day Siegfried fought beside the king, and then victory

followed victory for the disabled ranks of the Burgundians. The

soldiers rallied under his leadership, and went boldly into the fight,

while the enemy fell in great numbers beneath the terrible strokes of

Balmung. A sudden panic came upon the hitherto victorious host, and

they fled in terror before Gunther's pursuing army. This battle was

followed by many others in which the Burgundians completely routed the

enemy's forces, and their leader was obliged to sue for peace. So the

war was ended, and the heroes returned to their homes to exchange the

sword and shield for the milder pleasures of the palace.

Soon after this, Hagen came again to King Gunther and said: "This

great victory has proved how strong an ally we have in Siegfried. It

were well, therefore, to keep him with us, lest trouble arise again

and we need his help. Let us bind him to our house by some close tie,

and as no bond is closer than marriage, you must wed him to your

sister Kriemhild, who already looks upon him with favour."

"But that cannot be, much as I desire it," answered Gunther, "for

Siegfried will not wed with my sister, since his heart yearns for

Brunhilde, and he is even now planning to seek her in Isenland."

"All this is true," answered the wily Hagen; "and while Siegfried

longs for the shield-maiden, nothing can be done; but summon your

mother hither, and bade her mix for him a draught of forgetfulness.

She is skilled in magic potions, and will give us such help as we

need."

Gunther sent at once for Queen Ute and told her of Hagen's plan, to

which she willingly offered her assistance; and that night when

Siegfried returned from a journey to a neighbouring city, she offered

him a cup into which she had put a magic drink which made him forget

Brunhilde and his ride through the wall of fire. Then he turned more

kindly eyes upon the beautiful Kriemhild, and before many days went

by, he sought her hand in marriage of Gunther and the queen. Even to

the unfriendly Hagen did he urge the acceptance of his suit, and the

grim old warrior replied, "Gladly do we yield to you this flower of

Burgundy; but to no other man would we have given her for all his

prayers."

When it was known throughout the kingdom that such a powerful prince

as Siegfried was going to ally himself with the house of Burgundy,

there was great rejoicing among the people, for Siegfried had already

made himself both feared and loved. The wedding festivities lasted

several weeks, and many costly gifts were distributed by King Gunther

among his vassals.

Yet in the midst of all the rejoicing, a strange feeling of uneasiness

oppressed Siegfried, and he felt himself struggling with some memory

that would not take shape in his mind. As his troubled looks seemed to

worry the gentle Kriemhild, he tried to banish the haunting memory,

and join in the merriment that attended his marriage.

Soon Hagen, who knew that Siegfried was the possessor of Andvari's

hoard, caused it to be whispered about that the young hero had brought

no gift to his bride, and that he lived, with empty hands, upon King

Gunther's bounty. When this rumour reached Siegfried, he grew pale

with angry pride; then, in the presence of all the court, he made a

formal gift to Kriemhild of all his treasure, both the chests of gold

which he had carried on his horse, and the great hoard which still lay

in Fafnir's cave. In his resentment and wounded pride he forgot the

curse which still rested upon it, and because of the drink which Queen

Ute had given him, he forgot the ring that he had placed on

Brunhilde's finger. Gunther and his people were delighted with the

magnificence of the bridal gift, and even Hagen felt satisfied, for he

knew nothing of the curse, and hoped sometime to induce Siegfried to

have the hoard brought to Burgundy.

The Wooing of Brunhilde

Siegfried's days passed happily at Gunther's court, and now that he

had become the husband of the beautiful Kriemhild he desired nothing

better than to spend his life beside her in the pleasant land of

Burgundy. Ever since the day of his marriage all of his former life

seemed to be shrouded in mist. He but dimly remembered the forging of

Balmung and his fight with the dragon Fafnir, while the meeting with

Brunhilde had, owing to the magic potion, passed wholly from his

memory. He was very happy with the lovely and gentle Kriemhild, who

had wedded him believing that she alone had won the young hero's

heart, for her mother had spoken no word to her of the Valkyrie whom

Siegfried loved, or of the draught which had been given to make him

forget her. As for Siegfried, he was proud of being chosen above all

the other suitors who came to win the hand of Gunther's sister; and he

was sure that there lived upon the earth no maiden fairer than the

peerless Kriemhild.

One day there came to the palace an old harper. His hair was white and

his figure bent with age, but he could still play wonderful music, and

sing bravely of the deeds of heroes. Many days and nights he sang in

the great hall of the castle, and the listeners never wearied of his

music. Sometimes he laid aside his harp and told strange tales of his

wanderings; and one night as he sat before Siegfried and King Gunther

at the feast, he spoke to them of a certain country called Isenland,

where dwelt a beautiful maiden whom many kings and princes had sought

to wed. "But," continued the old man, "she has never yet been won, for

she is a warrior queen, and to those who seek her hand she proposes a

trial of strength with the condition that he who loses in the contest

must also lose his life. This has daunted many a suitor, for the fame

of the maiden's strength has spread far and wide, yet there have been

some brave men who have dared to try, and, failing, have forfeited

their lives."

"But why is she willing to marry, if she has more than a man's

strength, and can go to battle like any warrior?" asked Gunther.

"She does not wish to do so," replied the harper; "but it is written

in the runes that she must wed. She is determined, however, to yield

only to the hero whose strength can surpass her own, and therefore she

demands that all suitors shall meet her in this contest."

"What is her name?" asked the king.

"It is Brunhilde," answered the old man, and at this Gunther looked

fearfully at Siegfried, wondering if the name would bring back to him

the memory of his ride through the fire and his meeting with the

Valkyrie. But on Siegfried's face was a look of entire unconcern, and

he smiled as the blood rushed into Gunther's cheeks, and cried:--

"Look now at the king's face, Sir Harper, and see how quickly you have

found another victim for the warrior maiden. Methinks he is already

eager to behold her beauty and win her for his queen. How is it,

friend Gunther?"

"Even as you have said," replied the king, "for I would fain risk my

life to gain this wonderful maiden."

Indeed, Gunther was so much in earnest in his wish, and so determined

to journey to Isenland, that no advice from Hagen could turn him from

his purpose, neither were the gentle pleadings of Kriemhild of any

avail. He would have Brunhilde and no one else for his queen.

When it was settled that he should go to Isenland, Hagen came secretly

to him and said: "If you are really bent upon going on this foolhardy

journey, and desire to risk your life for a woman who is doubtless not

worth the winning, take Siegfried with you. He has the sword Balmung

with which to fight your battles, should you be beset with foes, and

he has also the magic Tarnkappe which renders him invisible. This

will help to bring you out of many unknown difficulties. Urge him,

therefore, to go with you."

Gunther did as Hagen advised, but it needed no urging to obtain

Siegfried's ready consent to accompany the king. He had grown somewhat

weary of the quiet, uneventful life at the court, and longed for new

adventures. The beautiful Kriemhild wept and besought him not to go

into a far country, and on an undertaking fraught with many dangers;

but Siegfried only laughed at her fears, and bade her get his clothing

and armour ready for the journey. To Gunther he said, "There is one

thing you must do if you wish me to accompany you, and that is to give

me your promise not to take any train of warriors with us, but to go

alone with only Hagen and your brother Dankwart."

This seemed a very singular demand, and Hagen declared that the king

should not listen to it; but Gunther trusted Siegfried's discretion,

and was willing to be guided by his wishes, so he consented, and no

one prepared for the voyage to Isenland save those whom Siegfried had

chosen.

Kriemhild and her maidens spent many days making rich garments and

embroidering costly robes, for she wished to have the warriors of

Burgundy apparelled as became their rank. Queen Ute, also, brought out

from her large chests many fine fabrics and rare jewels, and with

threads of purest gold worked beautiful pieces of raiment, that

Gunther and his friends might make a suitable appearance at the court

of Brunhilde. But it troubled her that no retinue of lords was to be

allowed to attend the king, as was customary when royalty travelled

abroad; and she felt some resentment toward Siegfried for compelling

the ruler of all Burgundy to go to a foreign court with no followers

save three of his own kinsmen.

While Queen Ute and Kriemhild were busy at their needlework, the ship

on which the king was to sail was made ready, and fitted up with all

things which might be needed on the voyage. The most skilful rowers in

the kingdom were placed at the oars, and at last the ship was launched

and the sails set. There was much weeping at the departure of Gunther

and his friends, and the watchers on the shore felt that they would

never return from the journey. But the heroes themselves were eager

for the voyage, and full of hope that their adventure would be

successful,--all but Hagen, who stood on the deck, grim-visaged and

scornful, for he had no faith in this foolish undertaking, though he

would have followed his king to the ends of the earth.

The voyage to Isenland was long, but no peril of wind or weather

followed the ship, and no dangers of rocks and shoals marred the

pleasure of the journey, or hindered the good ship's speed. When at

last they came in sight of a rocky coast, and saw on the top of the

cliffs a tall, fortressed castle with frowning towers, Hagen told them

that they had now reached Isenland, and that before them was the

palace of Brunhilde. It looked very forbidding, and Gunther began to

doubt if, after all, this venture had been a wise one; but Siegfried

was light-hearted as ever, and the gloomy towers brought him no

anxiety or fears. As they were about to land he said to the king:--

"One thing further you must do if we wish to win in this undertaking.

Tell every one at Brunhilde's palace that I am your vassal, and have

come hither at your command to attend you."

Gunther looked surprised at this demand, but he consented, and on the

way to the castle Siegfried followed behind the king, as became a

vassal in attendance on his lord.

From her chamber window the queen was looking down upon the knights as

they rode toward the castle,[57] and calling her maidens to her she

said: "Who are these strangers that have come to our gates? They seem

of noble bearing, yet they have no attendants, so cannot be of royal

blood. Let some one go to meet them, and inquire of their names, and

why they have voyaged to Isenland, for in the harbour yonder I see a

white-sailed ship."

[57] In the Volsunga Saga, the castle is called Hlymdale, and

Gunnar has to ride through the flames, with Sigurd's help, to

win Brunhilde.

One of the maidens went away at the queen's bidding, and soon returned

breathless with excitement.

"It is Gunther, king of Burgundy, my lady," she cried, "and with him

are his brother and uncle, and a noble youth named Siegfried. I hear

that they have come to match strength with you in the games."

When Brunhilde learned that it was Siegfried who was at her castle

gates, she trembled with delight and surprise; for _she_ had been

given no draught of forgetfulness, and she well remembered the brave

youth who had ridden through the fire and wakened her from sleep. If

he had come to win her, she hoped that his strength was equal to his

valour, and that it would surpass her own. For the first time since

Odin took away her shield, and with it the glory of being a Valkyrie,

she felt glad that she was a mortal maiden.

Word was sent to the lords within the castle to let down the

drawbridge, and welcome the strangers to Isenland. The queen also bade

them give the guests the best which the palace afforded, and do

everything which would make for their pleasure and comfort. When she

herself was arrayed in her costliest robes, she descended to the great

hall of the castle. There, seated upon a marble throne, and

surrounded by her chosen warriors, she received the stranger knights

in royal state.

To Gunther, who approached first, she offered her hand and bade him

welcome. This courtesy she also extended to Dankwart and Hagen; but

when Siegfried stood before her she rose, and, taking both his hands

in hers, she said softly: "So you have come again to seek me, Sir

Siegfried, but this time it is not through a circle of fire. It is

long since we last met, but I have not forgotten you, nor have I lost

the ring you placed upon my finger. There is no one whom Brunhilde

would gladlier see within her halls."

Siegfried at first seemed bewildered at her words; then a troubled

look passed over his face, and he rubbed his eyes as if awakening from

sleep. He gazed long into the queen's face, murmuring, "Brunhilde--the

Valkyrie--the wall of fire." Then all at once a mist was lifted from

his eyes; he remembered his ride through the flames, the sleeping

maiden, and all of the past which had been so long forgotten.

Brunhilde saw the change in his face, but she mistook its meaning. She

thought that he had carelessly forgotten her, and was now trying to

recall some memory of her. So her soft manner turned to hardness, for

her pride was hurt, and maiden shame forbade her to show favours to

one who could so easily forget her. During all his stay at the castle

she kept aloof from Siegfried, and treated him with more coldness than

she showed even to the grim-visaged Hagen.

As for Siegfried, he knew that something had happened which had

blotted out the memory of Brunhilde during all the years he had been

in Burgundy; and he knew also that if he could now choose his bride,

it would be the haughty queen who treated him so scornfully. But he

was here as Gunther's friend and vassal, and to help Gunther win this

maiden for his wife; so he laid aside his own regrets, and determined

to do all in his power to further the king's suit.

Soon after the arrival of the Burgundians, a day was set for the

contest between King Gunther and the warrior queen. At the appointed

time they assembled in the courtyard of the palace, and Hagen had many

misgivings when he saw five hundred armed knights standing about,

whose faces betokened no good-will to the strangers. However, it was

now too late to retreat, and he muttered to the king,--

"We have truly come hither on a fool's errand; for whether you win or

lose in this contest, we will never be allowed to leave this place

alive."

At this Gunther only laughed and said: "Your gray hairs make you full

of fears, O Hagen; and your age makes you blind to the beauty of this

wonderful maiden, for whom a man might well risk his life. But fear

not for me, as something tells me that I shall win."

And he went away, leaving Hagen to mutter curses on the whole mad

adventure.

When Brunhilde appeared in the courtyard clad in her coat of mail, the

four Burgundian warriors approached her, and Siegfried said, "My liege

lord has come from far to match strength with you, O Brunhilde, and

should he win in the contest, there is none who will give you

allegiance as his queen more gladly than the humble and loyal vassal

Siegfried."

To this Brunhilde answered coldly, "Does your lord know the conditions

of the contest and the forfeit we demand, should he lose?"

"He does," replied Siegfried; "but nothing outweighs the chance of

possessing Brunhilde for his queen."

"Then we accept the challenge," said the maiden, and, turning to one

of her attendants she added, "Bring hither my armour, and let the

games begin." The servants then brought her a golden helmet, a

corselet of finely wrought silver, and a shield broad and heavy enough

for the most powerful warrior. After arming herself with these, her

spear was carried in on the shoulders of three strong men. It was very

long, and of such tremendous weight that no arm but Brunhilde's had

ever been known to lift it.

While these preparations were going on, the Burgundian heroes were

watching with amazement, half mingled with fear, and Hagen muttered

aloud, "Shall we stand idly by and see our king slain by a woman's

hand?" But Siegfried whispered in Gunther's ear, "Take courage and we

shall win, only show no sign of fear." Then he slipped out of the

crowd and hurried down to the seashore where the ship lay at anchor.

Here he hastily donned his Tarnkappe, and then went back, unseen, to

the courtyard, where Gunther had already taken up his shield, and

Brunhilde was poising her spear in the air ready to throw.

He took his stand close to the king's side and whispered, "Fear not,

only do as I bid you."

Though he could see no one, Gunther knew that it was Siegfried who was

beside him, so he took courage and grasped his shield more firmly.

The signal was given, and Brunhilde hurled her spear at Gunther's

shield. The blow was a terrible one, and both Siegfried and the king

staggered beneath it. Borne down by the weight of the spear, and by

the force with which it was thrown, Gunther would have been crushed

under his shield had not Siegfried broken the force of the blow by

placing himself in front of the king, while he held before him the

magic shield which he had taken from Andvari's hoard. Then he quickly

raised the king, and before the astonished spectators realized what

had happened, he picked up the huge spear and sent it, apparently from

Gunther's hand, back to Brunhilde. It sped with terrible swiftness,

and struck her shield with a tremendous crash, carrying the warrior

maiden to the ground. In a moment she recovered herself and rose,

flushing with shame and anger. Going to where the king stood, she

said,--

"That was a noble blow, King Gunther, and I count myself fairly beaten

at this first game, but you must also win in casting the stone and in

leaping."

As she spoke, ten men came forward, carrying an immense stone upon

their shoulders. This the maiden raised easily in her white arms, and

swinging it once or twice above her head, she threw it to the farther

end of the castle yard, some hundred yards away, and then leaped after

it, landing just beside it.

The followers of Brunhilde shouted with delight, and every face showed

pride in their wonderful queen; but Dankwart trembled with fear, and

old Hagen bit his lip and cursed the day that had brought them to

Isenland. At Gunther's side, however, was Siegfried, still whispering

courage to the king, who could not see his friend, though he knew who

it was that was winning the contest for him. Together they walked to

where the great stone was lying, and Siegfried raised it from the

ground, while it seemed to the spectators that it was lifted by the

king's hand. Then he swung it above his head, and hurled it across the

courtyard, where it landed far beyond the spot from which Brunhilde

had first thrown it. Immediately he seized Gunther in his arms and

sprang after the stone, reaching the very place where it lay half

buried in the earth.

The warrior maiden could do naught but own herself beaten in all the

games, and though her face showed disappointment and chagrin, she

offered her hand to Gunther, saying:--

"We acknowledge ourselves defeated, my lord, and from henceforth

Brunhilde is no longer her own master, but the wife and vassal of the

king of Burgundy," and, turning to her knights and attendants, she

bade them acknowledge Gunther as their rightful lord.

That night there was great feasting in the palace, though the hearts

of the people of Isenland were heavy at the thought of losing their

queen. She herself strove to appear happy and proud at becoming the

wife of a hero whose strength surpassed her own; yet while she seemed

to honour her liege lord, her heart longed for Siegfried, and she rued

the day that had brought the Burgundians to Isenland.

How Brunhilde Came to Burgundy

So Brunhilde and the Lord of Burgundy were wedded, and, after many

days spent in feasting and merriment, Gunther told his queen that they

must prepare for the return voyage. It was some time since he and his

friends had set out on their journey to Isenland, and he feared that

if he stayed much longer at Brunhilde's palace, his own people would

give them up for dead. Then he went secretly to Siegfried, and with a

shamed, flushed face he said: "My friend and brother, I have come to

ask your help in a strange matter. I cannot return to Burgundy with a

wife who is my master, even as Brunhilde is now, for I shall become

the laughing-stock of all my people. The queen of Isenland does not

love me, and she treats me each day with more contempt. She does not

scruple to insult me by making me the victim of her great strength,

which I am powerless to meet. Her might--which no other woman has ever

equalled--depends on a wonderful girdle which she wears; and when I

tried to wrest this from her, she tied me hand and foot and hung me

on a nail in the chamber wall. Only by my promising never to trouble

her again was I able to get release."

Siegfried felt sorry indeed for Gunther's plight, and he offered to

try and subdue the warrior queen to her husband's will. So that night

he assumed the form of Gunther, and wrestled with Brunhilde until he

had taken from her the wonderful girdle in which lay all her unwomanly

strength. He also took from her finger the serpent ring of Andvari

which he himself had given her when they had talked together on the

mountain. Brunhilde, being now quite ready to obey her lord, believing

that he was truly her master by virtue of his superior strength,

prepared for her departure from Isenland, and took with her as many of

her own followers as Gunther would allow. He besought her not to

overburden the good ship which had brought them thither with chests of

raiment and household goods, since Queen Ute could amply provide all

that Brunhilde might desire.

As to the wealth she had at her command, he bade her leave all that

behind, for the rich lands of Burgundy yielded more than enough to

satisfy the proudest heart. The queen therefore opened her chests full

of gold and silver and divided them among her knights and among the

poor of her kingdom. Her rich robes, and all the costly apparel she

had worn, she gave to her maidens, and arranged to take with her only

a small part of her possessions. While preparations were being made

for the departure of Brunhilde to the country of her liege lord and

husband, Hagen was fuming uneasily at the long delay, and predicting

all manner of misfortunes if they did not speedily leave Isenland.

Gunther tried to allay his fears and said:--

"You are restless, Hagen, because you are old, and cannot share your

lord's joy in having won this peerless maiden for his queen. There is

really no cause for alarm, for the people here are friendly to us now

that I am their acknowledged king. Besides, have we not Siegfried with

us, and how can we fear any harm when he is here to protect us?"

"Yes, yes," answered Hagen, angrily, "to be sure we have Siegfried

with us, but it is always Siegfried whom we have to lean on like a

babe on its mother. Before he came among us, we ourselves were counted

warriors worthy to be feared; but now it is always Siegfried who

fights our battles, guides our ship, and brings us out of all our

difficulties. It is Siegfried, too, who wins us a warrior maiden whom

we would never have conquered alone, weak and nerveless men that we

are. It is Siegfried, always Siegfried, and I hate his very name."

"Nay, now, good Hagen," said the king, soothingly, "these things

should not provoke you to jealousy, but rather make you hold the youth

in respect and honour. What would Burgundy do without Siegfried?"

"That is just it," retorted Hagen, bitterly. "Burgundy is naught

except as she holds this foreign prince in her court. She boasts no

warrior so valiant, no soldier so dear to her people, as this man who

came to us a stranger. Better far that he should return to his own

country than to stay longer among us."

"Nay, nay," answered Gunther; "if Siegfried is so beloved by our

people, it is a greater reason for his remaining with them." But Hagen

shook his head, and muttered something which the king did not

understand.

Everything was at last ready for Brunhilde's departure, and she bade a

sorrowful farewell to all her household and to all the people of

Isenland. Then she embarked on the white-sailed ship with the four

Burgundian warriors. In a few days she was far out of sight of the

land she loved, and was being borne toward a country unfamiliar and

unwelcome. For even though she had been forced to own herself

conquered in the games, Brunhilde had never been willing to become

Gunther's wife, or to go with him to his home across the sea.

The voyage was quickly and pleasantly spent to all except the queen,

who sat upon the deck, moody and silent, ignoring all Gunther's

efforts to divert her. Siegfried felt happy at the thought of

returning to the beautiful Kriemhild, though his heart was heavy with

fear that the coming of Brunhilde to Burgundy would bring trouble and

sorrow in its train. The evident dislike which the queen felt for King

Gunther boded no good for the future to him or to his friends. Only

toward Hagen did she show any kindness, and her overtures of

friendship were, strange to say, very willingly met by the grim,

reserved man. She would talk for hours with Hagen when no one else

could get from her a moment's notice, and the gray-haired old warrior

seemed ever ready to please and serve her.

At last the voyage was over, and the king was again in his own land

and among his own people. Great rejoicing was made over his return,

and feasts were held for many days in honour of the wonderful maiden

who was now King Gunther's wife. But though everything was done for

her pleasure, and many princes of the provinces of Burgundy came to do

homage to their queen, Brunhilde remained ever moody and silent. The

gentle Kriemhild tried in vain to induce her to join in the feasting

and merriment, but Brunhilde refused, almost angrily, and sat apart,

brooding over her unhappy lot. After a time Gunther sought his mother,

Queen Ute, and begged her to give Brunhilde some drink which would

make her forget Isenland, and so be content to dwell with him.

Queen Ute shook her head, and said sadly that she had nothing which

could accomplish this for him.

[Illustration: Gunther and Brunhilde arrive at Burgundy and are

received by Kriemhild]

The king went next to Hagen and said: "You have won Brunhilde's

confidence, my uncle. Tell me, therefore, why the queen is silent and

unhappy."

At this Hagen laughed mockingly and whispered: "Ask your noble friend

Siegfried whom you love and trust so fully what it is that makes

Brunhilde's heart so heavy with longing, and so full of bitterness. He

can tell you far better than I." But shame and pride forbade Gunther

to go again with his troubles to Siegfried, so he kept silent, and

waited for time to cure the queen's grief.

Things went on in this way for some time, for nothing seemed to change

the haughty queen, or soften her dislike for all of Gunther's

household except Hagen. He remained her devoted follower, and her one

confidant and friend. Toward the gentle Kriemhild she showed both

jealousy and aversion, though the sweet, friendly wife of Siegfried

was at a loss to understand the reason for her sister-in-law's

behaviour.

On his return to Burgundy, Siegfried had been unwise enough to tell

Kriemhild of the stratagem by which he had won Brunhilde for the king,

and how later he had wrestled with the mighty queen, and taken from

her the magic girdle. He also gave Kriemhild the serpent ring which

Brunhilde had prized more than all her possessions, but which she had

yielded when--as she supposed--Gunther had outmatched her in strength.

All this trickery Brunhilde did not as yet even suspect, so Kriemhild

wondered at her ill-concealed hatred of the king.

One day Brunhilde and Kriemhild were walking together in the palace

garden, and as they were about to enter the great feasting hall,

Kriemhild, being a little in advance of the queen, was just crossing

the doorway when Brunhilde called out angrily,--

"Do you presume to enter before me, your queen? you who are the wife

of a vassal?"

"I am no vassal," retorted Kriemhild, quickly, "for Siegfried owns

allegiance neither to you nor to any other."

"That is a lie," cried Brunhilde, wrathfully, "for when Siegfried came

to Isenland, he declared that Gunther was his liege lord, and himself

a humble vassal."

"That was only to save your pride," answered Kriemhild, now dropping

her angry tone, for she saw that the queen was in a towering rage.

"Gunther deceived me, then," stormed Brunhilde, furiously; then she

added mockingly, "Since Siegfried is no vassal of the king's, I

suppose he is a much greater and richer prince; that he is braver

also, and stronger, and could outstrip the king in a contest of

strength such as that in which Gunther won me for his wife."

"Even so," replied Kriemhild, "for it was really Siegfried who outdid

you in the games, and not Gunther at all. It was Siegfried, too, who

wrested from you the girdle and the ring, and he gave them to me as a

trophy dearly won." As she said this, Kriemhild showed her two

possessions and then passed quietly into the hall, while Brunhilde

stood at the door too bewildered by her words to speak.

At length she realized the meaning of Kriemhild's speech. Full of

anger and fearful suspicion, she sought out Hagen, and demanded that

he should tell her all he knew of Siegfried's part in the contest. And

Hagen told her how Siegfried had put on his Tarnkappe and stood before

the king unseen; how he, and not Gunther, had flung the spear, and

hurled the stone and made the wonderful leap; how it was Siegfried

alone who had gained the victory, and he who should rightfully have

won her.

Upon hearing this, Brunhilde wept in anger and sorrow, and said

bitterly: "I might have known that none but Siegfried could claim the

warrior queen for his bride. That fool and weakling, King Gunther, is

no mate for Brunhilde, and never would he have called me wife had I

not been tricked and deceived. He is a coward, and merits all the

hatred and contempt I have shown him." Then her anger grew fiercer

than ever, and she swore vengeance upon those who had wronged her.

"Cherish not your wrath against the king," said Hagen, "for it is

Siegfried who has brought this shame upon you. He has been a source of

evil ever since he came among us, and he will yet be the king's bane;

yea, and thine also. It were better that he died,--and soon."

"He shall die," cried Brunhilde. "I will call Gunther hither and taunt

him with his weakness and cowardice. Then if he is a man, he will

avenge me of this insult which Kriemhild has put upon me."

So she summoned the king to her presence and poured forth the story of

her wrongs, bidding him slay Siegfried if he ever hoped to merit

anything but her hatred and contempt. The king listened to her words,

but though he felt ashamed of the sorry part he had played, he would

not give her the promise she desired, for he loved Siegfried, and

could not find it in his heart to kill him, even to win Brunhilde's

love.

Seeing that neither threats nor pleading would move the king to do

what she desired, Hagen begged the queen to leave them, and give

Gunther more time to make his decision. So Brunhilde went away, and

when Hagen was sure that there was no danger of her returning, he came

close to the king and whispered:--

[Illustration: Gunther and Brunhilde]

"Blind fool that you are! Do you not see even yet why the queen has

been unhappy ever since she came to Burgundy? She loves your friend

Siegfried, and it is he whom she would fain call husband and lord!"

Then he left the king alone, and Gunther sat for a long time thinking

over what Hagen had said. He felt discouraged and sick at heart; for

he knew that he was unable to solve the difficulties before him, or to

avert the dreadful fate which seemed to be overshadowing him and all

his household.

The Death of Siegfried

Shortly after this Hagen came one day to the king, and said: "As long

as Siegfried lives, there is naught that will appease the wrath of

Brunhilde, or make her cease to weep. If you would have peace for

yourself and would win the queen's love, it must be by Siegfried's

death."

"But I cannot slay him, Hagen," answered Gunther, sadly; "he is my

friend, and also my brother, and I cannot do such a treacherous

thing."

"There is no need for you to perform the deed yourself. Only consent

to having Siegfried killed, and another hand than yours will carry it

out. It is useless to try and pacify the queen so long as Siegfried

lives to arouse daily her jealous wrath. Consent, therefore, to his

death," urged Hagen, "and I myself will slay him and take all the

burden of the guilt upon my shoulders."

For many hours he talked with the king, working upon a weak will and

unsteady purpose, and rousing in Gunther the jealous fear that

Siegfried would play him false. There seemed, indeed, only one way out

of the difficulty, and at last Gunther consented to Hagen's wish and

promised to aid him in carrying out his plans.

"If I cannot win Brunhilde's love except by Siegfried's death, then he

had better die," cried the king; "for there is ever raging in my ears

the queen's words: 'Never will I live to be mocked by Kriemhild. This

thing must be ended by Siegfried's death, or my death, or yours. Would

that I were again in Odin's hall--a shield-maiden starting for battle

or returning with my weapons stained with red blood.' Do what you will

then, my uncle, for I would lay down my life to win Brunhilde's love."

Having won over the king, Hagen went away, determined to avenge

Brunhilde's wrongs and rid the kingdom of one whom he had long feared

and hated. His plans were then quickly made. He remembered that he had

often heard it whispered about the palace that some magic charm kept

Siegfried from ever being wounded in battle, since no weapon had the

power to harm him. So before he could carry out his plans, he must

learn with certainty whether the report was true or false. There was

but one person who would be likely to know this; and accordingly on a

certain day when Siegfried had gone hunting with the king, Hagen went

to Kriemhild, and seating himself beside her he inquired kindly if she

were very happy as the wife of Siegfried.

Kriemhild looked surprised at this unexpected visit from her uncle,

for he seldom took any notice of her; but she thought that he was

prompted to a show of interest in her by his fondness for Siegfried.

So she welcomed him gladly and answered his question in a way to

settle all doubts concerning her happiness, had her uncle really felt

any friendly interest. Hagen smiled at her reply, and said,--

"Then what will you do if Siegfried is wounded in battle, and brought

home dead upon his shield?"

"That cannot happen," answered Kriemhild, betrayed into further

confidence by Hagen's seemingly affectionate concern.

"But such things do happen, even to the bravest warrior," persisted

Hagen, "unless it be true, as I have sometimes heard, that Siegfried

is invulnerable."

Not dreaming of his purpose in asking this question, Kriemhild proudly

replied, "It is indeed true, and that is why I have no fears when my

lord goes to battle."

"Was this great gift from Odin?" asked Hagen.

Now Kriemhild knew that Siegfried had forbidden her to speak of this

matter to any one, but she thought there could surely be no harm in

revealing the secret to one so devoted and loyal as her uncle, so she

told Hagen all about the slaying of Fafnir. She said also that

Siegfried had been bathed in the dragon's blood, and that this was

supposed to render him invulnerable.

[Illustration: Siegfried and Kriemhild]

"Was he completely covered by the stream of blood?" asked Hagen, with

great interest.

"Yes," answered Kriemhild, "he was bathed from head to foot, except

one small spot upon his shoulder, on which a leaf happened to fall."

"Are you not afraid that he may be struck in that place by a spear or

arrow, and so meet his death?"

"It might indeed be so," said Kriemhild, "but I do not fear it."

"Still," persisted Hagen, "it would be well to have some one always

near Siegfried in battle, to guard him against any death-blow, and

since I alone know of his point of weakness, let me be the one to

protect him. This service I shall be better able to render if you will

sew a mark upon his coat over the exact spot on his shoulder where the

leaf fell, so that when we are beset by enemies upon the road, or go

forth to battle, I may keep beside him and shield him from a possible

death blow."

Kriemhild was greatly moved by this evidence of loyalty in Hagen, and

thanking him warmly for his devotion, she promised to sew upon

Siegfried's coat some mark by which the vulnerable spot could be

known. Then she hurried away to begin her task, not dreaming of

Hagen's wicked purpose in obtaining her secret.

Some days later Hagen proposed that there should be a great hunt

given in one of the neighbouring forests, and Gunther, who had

promised to aid him in his plans, urged Siegfried to accompany them.

Siegfried gladly consented, for he had greatly enjoyed this sport

since his first coming to Burgundy, and had spent many a pleasant hour

with Gunther and his knights in search of deer or fox, or the fierce

wild boar. In all of these expeditions he had been foremost in the

hunt, and had usually borne off the prize, both in the size and number

of his game. His spear was sharp, and shone brightly as he rode along,

mounted on the faithful Greyfel, and his aim was so quick and sure

that his weapon never missed its mark, but went straight to the heart

of the beast he was pursuing. This superiority in the chase added much

to Hagen's anger and jealousy, for as Siegfried had proved himself the

greatest of warriors on the battle-field, so in the hunt he was the

peer of all the knights of Burgundy.

A day was set for the great hunt, and a forest was chosen which was

famous for the number and fierceness of its wild beasts. Then early

one morning Gunther, Hagen and Siegfried set forth with their knights,

in full expectation of having a profitable as well as exciting day. It

was a beautiful morning in early spring, and the spirits of the

hunting party rose high as they cantered out of the city gates and

made their way toward the forest.

Siegfried rode ahead of the party, with Gunther and Hagen beside him.

His suit was of royal purple, embroidered richly by Kriemhild's loving

fingers, and his spear shone bright in the sunlight as he galloped

along, light-hearted and unsuspicious of the black thoughts which were

harboured in Hagen's wicked heart. He looked so brave and joyous, so

beautiful as a youth and so gallant as a knight, that all the warriors

in Gunther's train said among themselves that no one in Burgundy was

fit to be compared to Siegfried.

These remarks soon came to Hagen's ears, and hardened him in his

determination to slay this foreign prince whom all his own countrymen

would so gladly make their king in place of the weak and unwarlike

Gunther. He hid this feeling, however, and kept close to Siegfried's

side, looking eagerly for the spot upon his shoulder where the loving

but foolish Kriemhild had sewed the fatal mark.

The hunting party soon came to the edge of the forest, where they

divided into three groups. Each leader took with him a party of

followers, and they set out in different directions, with the

agreement that when the sun was overhead they should meet at a

well-known place where Gunther had arranged that their dinner was to

be set out. Siegfried galloped away, and a greater part of the

knights followed him. Hagen saw this and frowned darkly, but he said

nothing, only waited for Siegfried to get out of sight. Then he

whispered to the king:--

"To-day is the day for our deed. This must be the last time that your

friend Siegfried flaunts his superiority over the king."

Gunther trembled and answered weakly:--

"Must it be done, Hagen? Is there no other way to rid our kingdom of

him?"

"No way but by his death," replied Hagen, firmly; then he added: "and

do not you give way to foolish fancies, or my plans may fail. I have

no womanish scruples, and Siegfried must die to-day."

Not wishing to have it appear that anything unusual was in

preparation, Hagen ceased to confer with the king, but summoned his

knights to the chase, and, putting spurs to their horses, they started

through the forest. But something in the faces of the leaders made the

men only half-hearted in their eagerness for the hunt, and a spirit of

silence and gloom spread over the whole party.

They hunted all the morning, but their success was small, and when

they finally drew up at the meeting-place, they found that they had

very little game to boast of. The men had already come from the

castle with great baskets of provisions, so the knights dismounted,

and sat upon the grass to await the coming of Siegfried.

Soon they heard the loud blast of horns, and the joyous hallooing of

men mingled with the barking and yelping of hounds; and in a moment

Siegfried and his followers came in sight. They shouted merrily to

their comrades, and galloped forward to join them, while those seated

upon the ground looked with delight and surprise at the beasts which

had been slain by Siegfried's skilful hand. There was a large black

bear of the kind which was known to be so fierce that it was well-nigh

impossible to kill or capture him. There was also a huge wild boar and

three shaggy wolves, besides a great number of smaller animals, such

as the fox and deer. The knights were all loud in their praises of

Siegfried's wonderful skill, and he took their homage gladly, seeming

wholly unconscious of Hagen's cruel face or Gunther's averted eyes.

Soon the midday feast was ready, and the men sat down to eat. Some of

the game they had caught that morning was roasted and placed before

them, and they ate almost greedily, for the sport had given them

sufficient excuse for hunger. Presently Gunther said:--

"Is there no wine to accompany our meat? To eat without drinking is

but a poor way to feast."

The attendant to whom he spoke answered,--

"There was no wine provided, my lord."

"How is that?" demanded the king, angrily.

"It was Prince Hagen's command," replied the servant, humbly, and at

this Hagen interposed, saying:--

"Why should the king ask for wine when not a hundred rods away is a

beautiful stream more clear and sparkling than the finest wine? Let us

go there and quench our thirst."

"Very well," said Gunther; "and for my part, I am satisfied with the

drink you offer. It remains for my guest to declare himself content."

At this Siegfried rose and exclaimed eagerly:--

"If that fear weighs upon you, let me prove how little you should

cherish it. I will go first to the stream, and come and tell you how

pure and sweet is its water."

"Let me show you the way, then," said Hagen, and as he and Siegfried

moved away together, he asked hesitatingly:--

"Will you run a race with me, Sir Siegfried, to see which of us will

reach the stream first? For though I am much older than you in years,

I was accounted a famous runner in my time."

"Gladly," replied Siegfried; and they started off toward the stream.

But although Hagen went with wonderful swiftness considering his

years, he could not outrun the fleet-footed Siegfried, who reached

the goal some minutes before Hagen came up.

"You are truly a swift runner, even now, friend Hagen," he cried

gayly, "and I can easily believe your boast that you were once the

most famous runner in the kingdom."

At this Hagen smiled and said,--

"But what are we poor men, even the best of us, beside the noble

Siegfried, who can outstrip all the warriors of Burgundy, no matter

what the contest may be?"

"Nay, you are overzealous in your praise," laughed Siegfried, but he

was pleased with Hagen's friendly words, for he did not detect the

undertone of jealousy and anger. Then courteously he bade Hagen drink

of the stream, but Hagen answered:--

"Do you drink first, and let me follow you, for though you would yield

the courtesy to me because of my age, I would rather give precedence

to you as the better runner. Drink, therefore, but first lay aside

your armour, for the weight of it might throw you into the stream."

Siegfried, ever trustful and unsuspicious, threw off his coat of mail

and laid his spear beside it, thus leaving unprotected the inner coat

on which Kriemhild had sewed the fatal mark. Then he knelt upon the

ground, and stooping over put his hand into the stream and prepared

to raise the water to his lips. At this moment Hagen, with catlike

swiftness, caught up Siegfried's shining spear, and, aiming it

directly toward the mark, hurled it with all his force.[58]

[58] In the Volsunga Saga, Guttorm, the younger brother, is

incited to slay Siegfried (Sigurd) while the hero is sleeping

in bed.

The weapon sank into the stooping body, and with a groan Siegfried

rolled over upon the ground. As soon as he was able, he turned to see

who had done this cowardly deed; and only when he saw Hagen fleeing in

guilty haste, could he believe that the blow was dealt by one who so

lately seemed his friend. Siegfried put his hand feebly to his

shoulder, and when he found where the spear had struck, he knew that

his wound was mortal. He made one great effort to rise, and gathering

together all his strength, he drew out the spear and started in

pursuit of Hagen.

The treacherous murderer had fled for protection to the king, and

thither Siegfried followed him; but before he reached the astonished

and horror-stricken group who were watching his approach, the blood

began to gush forth from his wound, and he sank helplessly to the

ground. The whole company of knights knelt down beside him, weeping

and lamenting over the loss of their leader. One of them raised the

dying hero's head and placed it upon his knee, while others tried to

stanch the blood from his wound. Siegfried, however, bade them cease

their efforts, for his end had now come.

Then he turned to Hagen, and upbraided him for his cowardly deed, and

for his treachery in obtaining the secret of his vulnerability from

Kriemhild to use it in such a dastardly way. His strength was now

almost exhausted, and his eyes began to close; but suddenly he roused

again, and said to the trembling and terrified king:--

"Thou hast played a coward's part to thy friend who trusted thee, O

Gunther, and some day thou wilt bitterly repent of having aided thine

uncle in his wickedness. But for this I will not reproach thee, for

thou art already sorrowing. One thing only I ask of thee, and do thou

promise it, and make what amends thou canst. Take care of thy sister

Kriemhild, and do not let Hagen's vengeance extend to her. Though thou

hast proved an unworthy friend to me, yet I commend my wife to thy

keeping. Wilt thou swear to protect and cherish her?"

"I swear it," replied Gunther, now weeping remorseful tears.

"Then see that thou play the man, nay, be for once the king, and keep

thine oath to the dying."

As he finished these words, Siegfried sank back lifeless into the arms

of the knight who supported him. All at once the clouds overhead grew

fearfully dark, and the air seemed full of a strange, ominous

stillness. The birds stopped their singing, and the forest was silent

with the hush of night. The warriors stood weeping beside the body of

their slain leader, but no one dared to speak. Slowly and sadly they

raised Siegfried from the ground; and, placing him on their shoulders,

bore him to the place where the faithful Greyfel was standing,

patiently awaiting the coming of his master. One of the knights led

the horse, while a solemn group of mourners followed, and not even the

sternest old warrior among them felt ashamed of the tears he shed for

the dead hero.

When the sorrowful procession reached the city gates, the news was

quickly spread that Siegfried was slain, and by the hand of Hagen.

There was great mourning throughout the city, and beneath the wail of

sorrow was a muttered undertone of threats towards the man who could

do such a cowardly and treacherous thing as to kill the friend who

trusted him. But Hagen faced the people, calm and grim as ever, and

said boldly:--

"Let all the guilt of this deed rest upon me, for it was by my hand

that Siegfried died. Now there is but one lord of Burgundy, King

Gunther, and no longer shall Brunhilde sit in tears, for the insult

put upon her is avenged."

The Last of the Hoard

Though the news of the death of Siegfried had spread throughout the

city, no one dared to bring the dreadful tidings to Kriemhild, who sat

in her bower with her maidens, waiting her lord's return. The day was

now far spent, and she began to wonder at his long delay, when the

sound of some disturbance in the street reached her chamber windows,

and she looked out to see what the unusual noise might be. At first

she feared it was an outbreak of war, but the solemn procession which

was wending its way toward the palace was not martial in its bearing,

but full of the awful stillness of a funeral march. She saw that some

one was being borne on the shoulders of the men--some one dead--and

the others were his mourning followers. She wondered who it could be,

and why they were bringing him to the palace.

Among the group of knights who formed the funeral train, she presently

discerned the figures of Gunther and Hagen, and she began to tremble

with fear and dread foreboding when she saw that Siegfried was not

with them. She strained her eyes to see if she could recognize the

features of the dead, but she was too far away, and could not see; so

she waited fearfully by the window, while the procession wound its way

through the courtyard, and then into the great hall. Unable to bear

the suspense any longer, she left the room and hurried down to meet

her brother and learn tidings of Siegfried. But the moment she entered

the hall, the faces of the men told her all she wished to know, and

she did not need to inquire who the dead might be.

Every one in the palace shared the grief of Siegfried's gentle wife,

and all the city mourned with her in the loss of one so greatly

beloved as the hero whom Hagen called a "stranger." As long as the

first shock of Siegfried's tragic death engrossed all of Kriemhild's

thought and feeling, she did not realize the part which Hagen had

played in the event; but as the days went by and she had time to think

of all that had gone before, she remembered how her uncle had

traitorously obtained the secret of Siegfried's vulnerable spot from

her, and how she herself had, at his request, sewed the fatal mark

upon her husband's coat. She had heard that it was by Hagen's hand

that Siegfried met his death, yet she could not believe him guilty of

such a terrible deed. So one day she went weeping to Hagen, and asked

him to tell her by whom Siegfried was slain.

"The story of such things is not for a woman's ears," replied Hagen,

"and whether he died by my hand or another's is of small moment. It

was the will of the Norns, who rule the life of every man, that he

should die, and their decrees no one of us can change or avert."

When the day was set for the great funeral fires to be lit, all the

princes of Burgundy came to attend the solemn festival, and sought to

do homage to the dead hero by bringing rich gifts to be laid upon the

funeral pyre. This imposing structure was erected in front of the

palace, and on the appointed day the foremost lords of Gunther's

household brought the body of Siegfried from the palace where it had

lain in state, and placed it sorrowfully upon the funeral pyre. Beside

him was laid his armour and his magic Tarnkappe, and last of all the

famous sword Balmung. The king had ordered that Greyfel be carefully

guarded for fear that if he were brought upon the scene, he would leap

into the flames and perish with his master.

Around these things, which were sacred to the memory of Siegfried, the

princes of Burgundy piled their most costly gifts, and everything was

ready for the fires to be lit. But no one of Gunther's men could bear

to place a torch to the wood, and a dreadful stillness fell over the

whole assembly. At length Hagen came boldly forward and laid a burning

brand to the pile of logs which formed the funeral pyre. In a moment

the whole structure was ablaze, and the hungry flames leaped upward

toward the sky.

Gunther stood by, trembling and fearful, lest Odin should send some

terrible retribution upon the one who had slain his chosen hero.

Kriemhild, weeping, hid her face in her hands, for she could not watch

the dreadful fires. On the faces of all the watchers was reflected a

great sorrow, for no prince of Burgundy was so dear to them as

Siegfried, even though he came from a foreign land. Only Hagen showed

no grief or any sign of repentance for his deed, but stood by unmoved,

like a grim, avenging god.

Then suddenly a figure appeared in their midst, wild and dishevelled,

and seemingly mad with grief. It was Brunhilde, once a Valkyrie, come

to claim her slain. Turning to the astonished group of mourners, she

cried exultingly:--

"Look, you people of Burgundy, for the last time upon your queen whom

you have ever seen fulfilling the common lot of mortal woman, and know

that I was once a shield-maiden, one of Odin's Valkyries. I was

condemned to eternal sleep by the great All-father, but was rescued by

Siegfried, the hero who knows no fear. And here he lies who rode

through the wall of fire to waken me, and who won me in the games by

his godlike strength, though your cowardly King Gunther made false

claim to me. Here lies Siegfried, the chosen hero of Odin and the true

mate of Odin's warrior maiden. Therefore for him alone does Brunhilde

own her love, and to him alone will she be wed. The Valkyrie yields

only to the greatest hero." Saying this she leaped upon the funeral

pyre, and in a moment had perished beside Siegfried in the flames.[59]

[59] In the Volsunga Saga, Brunhilde kills herself with a

sword.

And what of the ill-fated hoard upon which still rested Andvari's

curse?

When the shock of the terrible events connected with Siegfried's death

was over, and quiet was once more restored to Gunther's palace, Hagen

came one day to the king and said:--

"You remember that Siegfried gave all of his treasure to Kriemhild on

their wedding day, and although the hoard was never brought to

Burgundy it still remains in the possession of your sister. Entreat

her, therefore, to have it conveyed here; and, to accomplish your end

more easily, tell her that she can honour Siegfried's memory by

distributing his wealth among the poor. When we get the treasure into

our hands, we will see, however, that nothing so foolish is done."

The weak-willed Gunther, always under the control of Hagen,

accordingly sought Kriemhild and told her what great things could be

done in honour of Siegfried, if only the treasure in the dragon's

cave could be placed at her disposal. Kriemhild was not suspicious of

her brother, for she did not know what part he had played in

Siegfried's death, so she listened readily to his words, and said,--

"It shall be done even as you say, for naught can now bring me solace

in my grief save some way to make the name of Siegfried dearer to the

hearts of the people."

Then she handed Gunther the serpent ring which Siegfried had given

her, and told him where to find the famous hoard in the cave of

Glistenheath. She bade him keep the ring carefully, for Andvari might

again have taken possession of the treasure, though he would yield it

to the wearer of the ring.

The king took the ring from Kriemhild, and hastened with it to Hagen,

who at once set to work to make preparations for conveying the hoard

to Burgundy. In a few days a great number of wagons were fitted up,

and with these a hundred men were despatched to gather all the

treasure and bring it back to the palace. Although most of the men

were Hagen's own followers, he could not trust them to go alone on

this important mission, so he placed Siegfried's ring upon his own

finger and led the expedition himself.

The hoard was found securely stowed away in Fafnir's cave, and not a

single piece of gold had been taken since Siegfried rode away after

slaying the dragon. The dwarf Andvari still guarded the treasure which

had once been his; but when Hagen showed the serpent ring, he allowed

the stranger to enter the cave. He would have preferred to deliver the

hoard to Siegfried himself, but the possession of the serpent ring

made its wearer the rightful owner of all the treasure. So Andvari was

obliged to admit Hagen's claim, and assist him in bearing away the

gold.

Some days later, the company which had set out from Gunther's palace

empty-handed came back laden with such wealth of gold and precious

stones that all the riches of Burgundy seemed nothing in comparison.

This great hoard was stored safely in Gunther's palace, and Kriemhild

was very glad to find so much wealth at her disposal.

She became very lavish in her gifts, and eager to pour out all her

riches, if only it brought added honour upon Siegfried's memory. No

one who came to beg alms of her ever went away empty-handed, and the

palace was always full of suppliants for her bounty. This extravagant

giving went on for some time, until one day Hagen came to the king and

said:--

"If your sister continues to distribute so much gold among the people,

we will soon have them idle and rebellious, and then they will be

useless to us in time of warfare. Bid her, therefore, to cease her

giving."

But Gunther answered, "I have brought enough sorrow upon her through

my evil deeds, and if this lavish giving can soften her grief, let her

continue to dispose of her wealth as it pleases her, even though she

should exhaust all the treasure that is in the hoard."

Hagen determined, however, that it must not be so, and seeing that he

could get no help from the king, he planned to gain his end by other

means. So he made every appearance of approving Kriemhild's lavish

gifts, and in time prevailed upon her to give him access to the

treasure, that he might help her in disposing of it. Then one dark

night he gathered together a band of his own followers, and stole all

that remained of the hoard. They carried it from the palace by a

secret passage, and brought it down to the river, where Hagen sunk it

many fathoms deep. Neither he nor any one else could ever regain it,

but at least it was out of Kriemhild's hands.

Thus was the hoard of Andvari, with its fateful curse, placed forever

beyond the reach of men; but the charm and the mystery which hung

around its very name still lingered through all the centuries that

followed, and to-day the sailors upon the river Rhine are still

looking for some glimpse of the sunken treasure.

The Punishment of Loki

The curse which the dwarf Andvari had placed upon the hoard, and

particularly upon the serpent ring which Loki had wrested from him,

did not end with the sinking of the treasure in the river. Both Hagen

and Kriemhild had been wearers of the ring, and evil soon fell upon

them as it had upon Fafnir, Regin, Siegfried and Brunhilde. Some years

after Siegfried's death, Kriemhild married Etzel, king of the Huns,

and was slain by one of his knights. Before this, however, she herself

had struck the blow that killed the treacherous and cruel Hagen. With

the burial of Kriemhild, the ill-fated ring passed forever from the

sight of men, and the curse of Andvari was never again visited upon

its unfortunate possessors.

Any other of the gods than Loki would have regretted the greed which

made him tear the serpent ring from Andvari's finger, and thus bring

misfortune upon so many innocent people; but Loki did not care whether

human lives were wrecked by his misdoing any more than he felt one

moment's remorse for having slain the shining Balder.

The gods had never forgiven Loki for this wicked deed, and they

longed very much to drive him out of their beautiful city, which had

never harboured any other evil thing. But Loki was Odin's brother, and

they dared not punish him until the All-Wise One was ready to give his

consent. Odin knew as well as they, that the slayer of Balder was not

fit to live among the gods; but he waited for Loki to commit one more

act of cruelty before he drove the offender out of Asgard. This

occasion came, at last, sooner than Odin expected.

One day all the gods were invited to a feast in the halls of Æger, the

sea-king; and a bounteous supply of ale was brewed in the great kettle

that Thor had brought from Hymer's castle. Thor was not present at the

feast, for he had been obliged to go on a long journey; but Loki was

there, looking sullen and angry. No one spoke to him, and he sat

silent and alone, trying to appear indifferent to the hostile looks

that were directed toward him.

The palace of the sea-god was very beautiful, with its walls and

ceiling made of mother-of-pearl so delicately laid that the light

filtered softly through it. On the floor was strewn the finest golden

sand, and all the food was placed in opal-tinted sea-shells. The only

thing that marred the beauty of the scene was Loki's ugly, wicked

face.

As the meal progressed and the gods grew merry over their cups, they

almost forgot the presence of the unwelcome guest; but Loki brooded in

angry silence, waiting for some chance to wreak his ill-will upon the

whole company. A servant stopped beside him to refill his horn with

the foaming ale; and one of the gods, as he watched this, said to old

Æger: "Your servants have been well instructed. They are as careful to

wait upon Loki as if he were an honoured guest." When Loki heard these

words, he flew into a mad rage; and, seizing a knife that was lying on

the table, he struck the unoffending servant dead.

At this wanton cruelty the gods sat speechless; but Odin rose, looking

stern and awful in his wrath, and with a relentless voice he bade Loki

be gone. "Never dare to tread our sacred halls again, nor pollute the

pure air of Asgard with your presence," he cried. So terrible did Odin

look that Loki slunk away out of the hall, and the gods returned again

to their feasting. Soon a great noise was heard outside the hall, and

all the servants came running in, looking very much frightened. Behind

them walked Loki, who came boldly up to the table and dared Odin to

send him out before he had spoken the words he had come back to say.

Then he began to talk to each one of the gods in turn, telling them of

all the foolish or mean or wicked things they had ever done--ridiculing

their mistakes, and laying bare all their faults in such a dishonest

way that each small offence seemed an act of monstrous wickedness. Not

content with trying to shame the heroes of Asgard, Loki began to speak

slightingly of the goddesses; and attributed to them all the hateful

things that his malicious imagination could invent. He was just telling

some shameful lie about Sif when a rumbling of chariot wheels was heard

outside, and in a moment Thor rushed into the hall brandishing his

hammer. He had heard Loki's last words, and he made straight for the

slanderer, intending to crush him with one blow of Mjölner. Loki,

however, quickly changed himself into a sea-serpent, and slid out of

the room before Thor's vengeful hammer could descend upon his head.

Taking his own shape, he made his way to the mountains of the north,

and there he built a hut with four doors, opening north, east, south

and west, so that he could see any one approaching and could easily

make his escape. The hut was close beside a swift mountain stream, and

here Loki spent many days in fishing--for there was little else to do

to beguile the long hours. Remembering how easy it had been to catch

Andvari after he had obtained the help of Ran, Loki made himself a net

like the one which he had borrowed from the ocean queen. It took him a

long time to weave the net; and one day, just as it was nearly

finished, he saw two figures standing on the brow of the hill. He did

not need a nearer view to tell him that the tall forms so clearly

outlined against the sky were those of Thor and Odin. He knew that

they had come to punish him for his many evil deeds; but he did not

intend to be caught without making every possible effort to escape. So

he threw the net which he was making into the fire, and, hurrying down

to the stream, he quickly changed himself into a salmon.

When Odin and Thor reached the hut where they knew Loki had been in

hiding, they found that he had escaped them. Then Thor by chance

stumbled over the logs on the hearth, and, in doing so, he discovered

the half-burnt net. Picking it up, he cried to Odin: "So this is what

our crafty Loki has been doing to fill his idle hours. There must be

some brook near by."

"Yes," replied Odin, "and that is where he has just gone. He has

changed himself into a fish."

So the two gods went to the mountain stream, and there they saw a

salmon lurking in the depths of a pool. Odin had already mended the

burnt net so that it was serviceable, and he quickly threw it over the

fish which was now darting here and there among the rocks. He did not

catch the wily salmon, however, for it slid into a narrow opening

between two stones. Then Odin cast again, and this time the fish gave

a great leap over the net and darted up the stream. Determined that

the tricky Loki should not outwit them, Odin and Thor followed the

salmon a long distance until the stream finally narrowed into a tiny

rivulet. The salmon now gave another leap into the air in a vain

effort to escape the enclosing net which Odin threw over it. Then,

finding itself caught, with incredible quickness it began to work its

way through the meshes of the net, and would have slid out of the

gods' hands had not Thor suddenly caught it by the tail. Since that

time, so the story goes, all salmon have their tails pointed.

Odin now changed Loki into his proper form, and he and Thor dragged

the wicked god to a cave in the mountain. Here they bound Loki hand

and foot with iron chains, and fastened these firmly to the rock. Then

Odin placed over his head a venomous serpent which dropped its poison

upon the face of the fettered god, causing him great pain. So, chained

and suffering, he lay there in the cave, unpitied by either gods or

men. Only Sigyn, his faithful wife, felt any sorrow for his pain, and

she sat always beside him to catch the venom in a cup so that it

should not fall on the captive's face. When she was obliged to turn

away to empty the cup, the drops of poison fell upon Loki, and he

shook and writhed so terribly in his agony that the whole earth

trembled.

[Illustration: Loki and Sigyn]

So Loki lay chained in the cave until the day when, according to the

decree of the Norns, he was allowed to break his fetters and become

the leader in that terrible battle which ushered in the last great

day--Ragnarok, the Twilight of the Gods.

The Twilight of the Gods

The gods hoped that when Loki was bound fast, there would be peace in

Asgard, and an end to mischief-making on the earth. Odin knew,

however, that the time was almost at hand when the end of all things

would come; and while gods and men rejoiced in the universal

happiness, Odin's face was full of sadness. He had given to the earth

and to Asgard a brief respite from trouble by chaining the wicked Loki

to the rock, but he felt that the day of reckoning was near.

The first warning Odin had of the nearness of that day was when a

sudden deadly cold spread over all the earth, and he knew it was the

beginning of that long, long winter which had been foretold by the

writing in the runes. So sharp and long-continued was the cold that it

chilled the hearts of men, and even crept upward to touch the robes of

those who dwelt in the eternal springtime of Asgard. Though all the

earth shuddered under the winter's icy hand, people everywhere took

comfort in saying, "It will soon be over and then the warm days will

come." But they waited day after day and week after week until the

season came which should have been summer, but still the snow and

frost and chill kept the world fast bound. Not a flower bloomed nor a

tree budded nor any green thing appeared above the frozen ground. Yet

the folk of Midgard still hoped on, and waited for the summer that

never came. The terrible winter[60] lasted for three years, and

everywhere the dead were numbered by thousands. No food was to be had

except what by chance had been stored away, for nothing could grow in

the land where ice and snow lay always thick upon the ground. Knowing

that they had but a short time to live, men fought and killed each

other for the mere love of bloodshed, and no one tried to restrain the

crime and wickedness that stalked unmolested through the streets. The

gods looked down from Asgard at the desolation on the earth, and they

sorrowed greatly to see men trying to drown their fears or buy

forgetfulness in deeds of violence and brutish pleasure. Only the

frost-giants rejoiced over the long destructive winter, for they had

always wished to see the whole world wrapped in fog and cold like

their own dreary Jötunheim. They turned their envious eyes toward

Asgard, and waited in grim certainty that the rule of the gods was

soon to end.

[60] It is called in the old Norse the Fimbul winter.

There was still some warmth in Asgard, for all of the sun's rays were

turned toward the sacred city; but Odin knew that they had but a short

time in which to enjoy this scant comfort. The two gray wolves that

were ever pursuing Sol and Mani were fed, during the long winter, by a

frost-giantess; and one dreadful day they rushed after the chariots of

the sun and moon with such unlooked-for swiftness that they at last

overtook the shining cars and devoured the charioteers. Soon a thick

darkness spread over all the world, and when the last gleam of light

faded from the sky, all the evil things that had lain hidden for fear

of the gods, or that wished to live away from the light,--all these

came boldly forth from caves and dark forests and holes underground,

for they knew that their time had come at last.

Then a terrible rending sound was heard as if the very foundations of

the earth were being broken up. There was a rushing noise like the

outpouring of all the seas, and a trampling as of a million feet. The

Midgard serpent reared its horrid head above the waves, and then drew

its huge coils from around the earth, creeping slowly from the sea to

the land. The Fenris wolf broke his chains, and sprang with a fierce

leap to the rock on the mountain where Loki lay bound. With the help

of Fenrer, the fettered god tore himself free of his chains, and

roamed over the earth with the great wolf at his side, gathering

together all the hosts of evil that were eager to war against the

gods.

From Jötunheim came an army of frost-giants ready to fight with their

old enemy in a last great battle; and out of Muspelheim marched a

troop of fire-giants under the leadership of Surter, who carried a

flaming sword. Through a deep cleft in the earth Hel crept stealthily

out of her silent halls; and behind her trooped thousands and

thousands of dusky shapes that would never have dared to come up into

the light of day. The Midgard serpent, pouring forth poison from his

ever-open mouth, spread his great length across the stricken land, and

glided on to the plain called Vigrid where Loki had gathered together

a vast and hideous array. A cry like the howling of wolves rose up

from the plain, and it beat in the ears of those who were waiting

behind the walls of Asgard. It was a cry full of hatred and defiance,

and when the gods heard it they knew that the challenge could not go

unanswered. Sadly--for each felt it was the end--they prepared

themselves for battle; and, while they made ready, the frost-giants

determined to avenge themselves by taking possession of Asgard. So,

before Heimdall could sound his horn to warn the gods of the

approaching enemy, they began to rush across the rainbow bridge that

led to the coveted city. They came in such numbers and with such

violence that Bifrost broke beneath the heavy tramp of feet, and the

frost-giants were obliged to return to the plain Vigrid and wait for

the coming battle.

The gods, with Odin at their head, marched bravely out of Asgard to

meet the great host of evil things which had leagued together to

destroy them. Then a terrible battle was fought, the like of which had

never been seen on the earth before, nor ever will be again. Though

the gods fought with the courage of despair, they knew that it was

useless to contend with the fury and strength and numbers that were

arrayed against them. One by one the shining heroes of Asgard fell

beneath the attacks of the madly exultant foe, and even the mighty

Mjölner was powerless to avert the doom which had been decreed by

fate.

Thor struggled fiercely with the Midgard serpent, and though he killed

it at last with his hammer, the terrible coils closed slowly about him

and he was drowned in the flood of venom that poured out of the dying

creature's mouth. Loki slew Heimdall; but not before the gods'

faithful watchman had dealt the leader of the evil hosts a mortal

blow. Odin engaged in a deadly combat with the Fenris wolf, and was at

last torn to pieces by Fenrer's terrible teeth and claws. Seeing the

greatest of the gods so brutally killed, Vidar, Odin's son, sprang

upon the wolf, and with the strength born of madness and despair,

struck the great brute dead. Surter, the fire giant, rushed quickly at

Freyr, and destroyed the bright god with his flaming sword. Then he

threw fire and flames over all the earth, and soon everything was

consumed in the terrible conflagration that followed. Ygdrasil, the

Tree of Life, withered up and was caught by the wildly leaping flames.

The great tree burned like a dry twig; and when the last leaf

fluttered feebly toward the encroaching fire, the high walls around

Asgard fell with a crash to the ground, and let in the devouring

flames. The stars dropped one by one into the sea, darkness reigned

over all the world, and time itself seemed blotted out forever.

Then silence and the brooding night took possession of the universe,

and this lasted many, many years; but in time a new heaven and a new

earth emerged from the chaos that followed the destruction of Asgard.

The sun shone again in the clear sky, and the moon and the stars once

more shed their soft light on the earth. The flowers bloomed as gayly

as before, and the fields were thick with ripening grain. Then, when

the earth was ready for another race of men, a certain man and woman

who had lain all these years asleep in the depths of a cave, awoke.

They looked with delight upon an earth made fresh and new, and to them

and to their children it was given as an everlasting possession.

INDEX AND PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY

Æger, _also_ Ægir (ā´gir), 58, 65, 143, 260-261.

Æsir (ā´sir), 6.

Ag´nar (1), 28-36.

Ag´nar (2), 201.

Alf, 149-150, 176-179, 186, 196.

Andvari (änd´vä rē), 140, 144-148, 186, 194, 203, 213, 255-259,

260.

An´gerbode, 51.

An´se race, 6.

An´ses (an´sēs̝), 6.

Asas (ä´sas), 6.

Asgard (as´gärd), 6, 9, 25, 51, 66, 71, 77, 80, 86, 87, 120, 126,

128-130, 133, 135, 184, 260, 266-271.

Ask (äsk), 8.

Audhumbla, 2.

Balder (bal´dẽr), 16, 126-136, 259-260.

Balmung (bäl´mŏŏng), 182, 188, 190, 195, 210, 215, 217, 253.

Bar-isle (bär i´sle), 115-116.

Baugi (bow´gē), 21-26.

Bergel´emer, _also_ Bergel´emir, 3.

Bifrost (bēf´rŏst), 7, 38, 67.

Bil´skirner, _also_ Bil´skirnir, 40.

Bor (bōr), 3.

Bor´ghild, 169-171.

Bragi (brä´ḡē), 26, 87, 88.

Branstock (brän´stock), 151.

Breidablik (brā´dȧ blik), 126.

Brock, 45-50.

Brunhilde (brün hĭl´dẽ), 199-203, 215-255.

Bure (bū´re), 3.

Bur´gundy, 206, 209, 214-215, 228-231, 253-254.

Dank´wart, 218, 222.

Day, 4, 15.

Draupner, _also_ Draupnir (drowp´nir), 48.

Drome (drō´me), 54.

Dwarfs, 7.

Elfheim (elf´hīm) or Elfland, 8, 31.

Eliudnir (ĕl ĭ ŏŏd´ner), 127.

Ellie, _also_ Elli (ĕl´lē), 105, 107.

Elves, 7, 42-49.

Emb´la, 8.

Etzel (et´sel), 259.

Fafnir (faf´nir), 139, 147-148, 183-195, 213, 215.

Fairies, 7.

Fates, 9.

Fen´rer, _also_ Fen´rir, 52, 54.

Fenris wolf, 51-57, 268-271.

Fensalir (fen sä lẽr´), 27.

Fialar (fejäl´ar), 18-20.

Fim´bul-winter, 267.

Folk´-vang, 74.

Freki (frā´kē), 11.

Freya, _also_ Freyja (frā´a), 30, 68, 74, 76, 78.

Freyr (frā´r), 30, 44, 55, 109-116, 271.

Fric´ka, 27.

Frig´ga, 27-33, 128-130, 134.

Galar (gäl´ar), 18-20.

Gefjun (gāf´yūn), 36.

Geirrod (gār´rod), 28-36.

Gerd, _also_ Gerda, 109-116.

Geri (ḡā´rē), 11.

Gial´ar-horn, 38.

Gil´ling, 19.

Ginungagap (ḡin´ōōn gä gäp´), 1.

Giöll, _also_ Gjöll (ḡī´ōl), 134.

Giuki (ḡĭū´kē), 207.

Gladsheim (gläts´hīm), 6.

Gleipnir (glāp´nēr), 56.

Glis´tenheath, 195, 256.

Gnomes (nōmz), 7.

Gold´fax, 118, 123.

Gram (gräm), 182.

Grani (grä´ni), 185.

Greyfel (grā´fel), 185-186, 189, 195, 196-205, 242.

Grimhild (grĭm´hĭlt), 206.

Grim´ner, _also_ Grim´nir, 30.

Grjotlungard (gryōt´lun gard), 121.

Gro´a, 124-125.

Gudrun (gōōd´rōōn), 206.

Gullinbursti (gōōl in bōōr´stē), 48.

Gulltopp (gōōl´top), 38.

Gunger (goon´ger), 44.

Gunlod (goon´lod), 20, 24.

Gunnar (gōō´när), 206, 220.

Gunther (gŏŏn´tẽr), 206-259.

Guttorm (gōōt´tôrm), 207, 248.

Gylfe, 36-39.

Gymer, 112-114.

Hagen (hä´ḡen), 206-259.

Hall of Mists, 27.

Heidrun (hī´drōōn), 10.

Heimdall (hīm´däl), 38, 66, 119, 269-270.

Hel, _also_ Hĕ´la, 9, 51, 52, 127, 133-136, 269.

Helheim (hel´hīm), 127-128, 133-136.

Helm-Gun´nar, 201.

Hermod (hĕr´mod), 134-136.

Hindfell (hĭnd´fell), 196.

Hiordis, _also_ Hjordis (hē ôr´dis), 171-180.

Hjalprek, 176.

Hlymdale, 220.

Höder, _also_ Hodur (hẽ´dẽr), 128, 131, 134.

Hœnir (hẽ´nēr), 8, 80-85, 137-138, 147.

Hogni (hōg´nē), 207.

Hraudung (hrow´doong), 28.

Hreidmar (hrīd´mar), 138.

Hrim´faxe, 4, 15.

Hrun´gner, 117-123.

Hugi (hōō´ḡē), 101, 107.

Hugin (hōō´ḡēn), 11, 20.

Hymer, _also_ Hymir (hē´mir), 58-65, 260.

Hyrroken, _also_ Hyrrokin (hēr´ro ken), 132.

Iduna (e dōōn´a), 80-90.

Ifing (ē´fing), 15.

Isenland (ē´sen land), 203, 212, 219-221.

Jötunheim (yẽ´tŏŏn hīm), 4, 9, 14, 16, 37, 51, 75, 91, 106, 108,

110-115, 117-120, 267, 269.

Kriemhild (krēm´hilt), 206-259.

Kvasir (kvä´sir), 18.

Land of Fire, 1, 5.

Land of Mist, 1, 72, 110.

Leding (lā´ding), 53.

Logi (lo´ḡē), 102, 107.

Loki (lo´kē), 8, 40-50, 68-72, 73-79, 80-90, 91-108, 129-131,

137-148, 259-271.

Lyngi (lin´ḡē), 172-177.

Magic Mead, 16-26.

Magne (mäg´ne), 123.

Mani (mä´nē), 5, 16, 268.

Mid´gard, 6, 9, 267.

Mid´gard Serpent, 51, 62-63, 107, 268-271.

Mimer, _also_ Mimir (mē´mēr), 10, 12-14.

Mjölner, _also_ Mjöllnir, 49, 65, 73-79, 97-98, 121, 262, 270.

Modgud, _or_ Madgu´dur, 134.

Mokkerkalfe, 122.

Mu´nin, 11, 20.

Muspelheim (mōōs´pel hīm), 2, 110, 269.

Nanna (nän´nä), 132.

Nibelungenlied (nē´bē lŏŏng´enlēt), 196, 208-209.

Niblungs (nēb´lōōng), 207, 209.

Nidhogg (nēd´hŏg), 9.

Niflheim (nĭf´l hīm), 1.

Night, 4, 15.

Njord, 31.

Norns, 9, 129, 253, 265.

Odin (ō´din), 3, 8, 10-17, 20-26, 29-39, 45, 48-50, 52, 66-69,

80-85, 88, 117-120, 126-129, 132-134, 137-139, 151, 152, 168,

171, 173, 181-182, 184-185, 189, 255, 260-271.

Or van´del, 124-125.

Ot´ter, 138.

Peace-Bough, 10.

Ragnarok (räg´nȧ rŏk´), 265.

Ran (rän), 141-143, 148, 260.

Ratatosk (rä´ta tusk), 10.

Regin (rā´gĭn), 139, 147-148, 149-150, 168-169, 179-195.

Rerir (rā´rēr), 151.

Ring´horn, 132.

Rodmar, 138.

Serimnir (sā rēm´nēr), 200.

Siegfried (sēḡ´frēd), 149-150, 179-250.

Siegmund (sēg´mund), 153-175, 178.

Sif, 40-44.

Sigi (sē´gē), 151-167.

Siggeir (sĭḡ´gār), 151-167.

Sig´mund, 153.

Signy (sĭg´nē), 151.

Sigurd (zē´gŏŏrt), 149, 179, 183, 220, 248.

Sigyn, _also called_ Siguna (sē´gēn), 264.

Sindri, _also_ Sindre (sin´drē), 45-48.

Sinfiotli, _also_ Sinfjotli (sin´fyāt lē), 160-171.

Skidbladner (skid bläd´nēr), 44.

Skinfaxe (skin´fäx), 4, 15.

Skirner, _also_ Skirnir (skĭr´nēr), 55-56, 111-116.

Skrymer, _also_ Skrymir (skrē´mēr), 107.

Skuld (skŏŏld), 9.

Sleipnir (slāp´nēr), 12, 117-118, 127, 134.

Sol, 5, 268.

Surter, _also_ Surtur _or_ Surt (sŏŏr´tēr), 269, 271.

Suttung (soot´tŏŏng), 19-26.

Svadilfare, _also_ Svadilfari (svä dilfä´rē), 69-71.

Svartalfheim (svär talf´hīm), 55.

Tarnkappe (tärn´käp pē), 210, 217, 225, 253.

Thialfi (thē äl´fē) _or_ (tē äl´fē), 92-93, 96-99, 100-101, 122.

Thiassi (the äs´sē) _or_ (tē as´sē), 84-90.

Thok (thŏk) _or_ (tŏk), 136.

Thor (thôr´) _or_ (tŏr), 41, 53-54, 58-65, 73-79, 91-108, 117-125,

263-265.

Thrym (thrüm), 75-79.

Thrymheim (thrüm´hīm), 87.

Thunderer, _see_ Thor.

Tree of Life, 9, 10, 271.

Trolls, 7.

Tyr (tēr), 52, 57, 58-65.

Urd (ōōrd), 9.

Urdar Fountain, 9.

Ute (oo´tē), 206-207, 212-213, 218-219, 232-233.

Utgard (ŏŏt´gärd), 91, 95, 98.

Utgard-Loke (ŏŏt´gärd lo´kē), 98, 100-108.

Vafthrudner, _also_ Vafthrudnir, 14-17.

Valhalla (văl hăl´la), 31, 72, 119, 171, 200-201.

Valkyrie (văl kĭr´ĭ), 196-203, 215, 217, 222, 254.

Var (vär), 79.

Ve (vā), 3.

Verdande, _also_ Verdandi (vĕrdän´de), 9.

Vidar, 270.

Vigrid (vēḡ´rēd), 16, 269-270.

Vikings, 176-177.

Vile, _also_ Vili (vē´lē), 3.

Vingolf (vĭn´gŏlf), 6.

Volsung (King) (vŏl´sŏŏng), 151-155.

Volsunga Saga (vēl sŏŏn´ḡä sä´gä), 149, 153, 179, 183, 185, 199,

206-207, 208, 220, 248, 255.

Volsungs, 150, 155-168, 170, 172-175, 183, 198.

Voltam (vōl´tam), 127.

Well of Wisdom, 12.

Wo´dan, Wo´tän, Wo´den, _see_ Odin, 3.

Ygdrasil, _also_ Yggdrasill (ĭḡ´drasil), 9, 10, 271.

Ymir (ē´mer), 2-4.

The following pages contain advertisements of books by the same

author or on kindred subjects.

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

Stories of Old Greece and Rome

_Decorated cloth, 12mo, $1.50 net_

"... an excellent combination of mythology and literature.... Here is

a gift that is a tonic for the weak imagination of the modern

child."--_The Nation._

"An interesting and valuable book."--_N. Y. Times._

"Illustrated from photographs of famous statues and paintings, this

will be a valuable adjunct to the young person's library."--_The

Continent._

"If you have not a volume of these myths of the gods and immortals,

here is an excellent one to buy."--_San Jose Herald._

"All that is classic, inspirational, tonic, and vital in Greek and

Roman mythology is here repictured in charming phrase for young and

old."--_Journal of Education._

"It opens up a new world to the childish imagination that is bound to

foster in its wonder much that is beautiful and idealistic."--_Boston

Transcript._

"Had we the deciding vote in every Board of Education we would adopt a

general rule that all children should be made familiar with mythology

at an early age.... This book by Emilie Kip Baker is an admirable

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good reading book."--_Literary Digest._

"The book should make a valuable addition to the library of the

teacher in mythology in elementary and high schools."--_The Classical

Journal._

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York

NEW BOOKS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS

_ANOTHER "DEAL" STORY_

The Winds of Deal

By LATTA GRISWOLD

Author of "Deering of Deal" and "Deering at Princeton"

With Illustrations by George Harper

_Decorated cloth, 12mo, $1.25 net_

That there are few men better qualified to write school stories than

Latta Griswold has been amply demonstrated by that author's previous

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life with its friendships, its trials, its tribulations as well as its

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_ROBERTS'S NEW ANIMAL STORIES_

Hoof and Claw

By CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS

Author of "Kings in Exile," "Neighbors Unknown," etc.

With Illustrations by Paul Bransom

_Decorated cloth, 12mo, $1.35 net_

"Under the faithful guidance of Mr. Roberts," the editor of the

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Fisher in the Chutes," "The Runner of the High Peaks," and "Up a

Tree."

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York

_BY LATTA GRISWOLD_

Deering at Princeton

Decorated Cloth, Ill., 12mo, $1.35 net

"The book gives a series of graphic pictures of undergraduate life at

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"The book is an exceedingly pleasant one, of a good tone without being

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"The story is written carefully and seriously, obviously by one well

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"... will take rank among the reliable narratives of American college

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"... an admirable story of its kind, head and shoulders above the

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PUBLISHED BY

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

64-66 Fifth Avenue, New York

NEW VOLUMES IN THE

MACMILLAN'S JUVENILE LIBRARY

_Each volume, cloth, 12mo, 50 cents net_

NEW TITLES

Cyrus T. Brady's _The Two Captains_.

Charles G. D. Roberts's _The Backwoodsmen_.

Lewis Carroll's _The Hunting of the Snark_.

Elisa H. Figyelmessy's _Two Boys in the Tropics_.

Alice W. Fox's _Hearts and Coronets_.

Gabrielle E. Jackson's _Peggy Stewart at Home_.

Edna Turpin's _Honey Sweet_.

Charles S. Wood's "_Don't Give Up the Ship_."

Stewart E. White's _Magic Forest_.

Evelyn Sharp's _The Youngest Girl in the School_.

With the publication of the above volumes the usefulness of the

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THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York

OTHER VOLUMES IN THE MACMILLAN JUVENILE LIBRARY

Each Volume, Cloth, 12mo, 50 cents net

Altsheler. The Horsemen of the Plains

By Joseph A. Altsheler

"A story of the West, of Indians, of scouts, trappers, fur traders

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healthy American boy."--_New York Sun._

Bacon. While Caroline Was Growing

By Josephine Daskam Bacon

"Only a genuine lover of children, and a keenly sympathetic observer

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Carroll. Alice's Adventures and Through the Looking Glass

By Lewis Carroll

"One of the immortal books for children."

Dix. A Little Captive Lad

By Marie Beulah Dix

"The human interest is strong and children are sure to like

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Greene. Pickett's Gap

By Homer Greene

"The story presents a picture of truth and honor that cannot fail to

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This collection of juvenile books contains works of standard quality,

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PUBLISHED BY

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

64-66 Fifth Avenue, New York

OTHER VOLUMES IN THE MACMILLAN JUVENILE LIBRARY

Each Volume, Cloth, 12mo. 50 cents net. Postage extra.

Mabie. The Book of Christmas

By H. W. Mabie

"A beautiful collection of Christmas verse and prose in which all the

old favorites will be found in an artistic setting."--_The St. Louis

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Nesbit. The Railway Children

By E. Nesbit

"A delightful story, revealing the author's intimate knowledge of

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Whyte. The Story Book Girls

By Christina Whyte

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Wright. Dream Fox Story Book

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Wright. Aunt Jimmy's Will

By Mabel Osgood Wright

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Lucas. Slowcoach

By E. V. Lucas

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Major. Uncle Tom Andy Bill

By Charles Major

"A stirring story full of bears, Indians and hidden

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Major. The Bears of Blue River

By Charles Major

"A little boy of pioneer days has many exciting adventures, which will

please all real boys."

PUBLISHED BY

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

64-66 Fifth Avenue, New York

* * * * * *

Transcriber's note:

Minor punctuation errors have been corrected.

The following changes have been made:

Page 78--omitted word 'a' added--"Did ever a maiden eat like

this one?" ...

Page 78--omitted word 'a' added--"Did ever a maiden eat like

this one?" ...

Page 274--Hrauding changed to Hraudung (for consistency with

main text)--Hraudung (hrow´doong), 28.

Page 274--Hriedmar changed to Hreidmar (for consistency with

main text)--Hreidmar (hrīd´mar), 138.

Illustrations have been moved where necessary so that they are not in

the middle of a paragraph.