Idun is Bragi's wife. Very handsome is she; but the beauty of her face
is by no means greater than the goodness of her heart. Right attentive
is she to every duty, and her words and thoughts are always worthy and
wise. A long time ago the good Asa-folk who dwell in heaven-towering
Asgard, knowing how trustworthy Idun was, gave into her keeping a
treasure which they would not have placed in the hands of any other
person. This treasure was a box of apples, and Idun kept the golden
key safely fastened to her girdle. You ask me why these folk should
prize a box of apples so highly? I will tell you.
Old age, you know, spares none, not even Odin and his Asa-folk. They
all grow old and gray; and, if there were no cure for age, they would
become feeble, and toothless and blind, deaf, tottering, and
weak-minded. The apples which Idun guarded so carefully were the
priceless boon of youth. Whenever the Asas felt old age coming on,
they went to her, and she gave them of her fruit; and, when they had
tasted, they grew young and strong and handsome again. Once, however,
they came near losing the apples,--or losing rather Idun and her golden
key, without which no one could ever open the box.
In those early days Odin delighted to come down now and then from his
high home above the clouds, and to wander, disguised, among the woods
and mountains, and by the seashore, and in wild desert places. For
nothing pleases him more than to commune with Nature as she is found in
the loneliness of vast solitudes, or in the boisterous uproar of the
elements. Once on a time he took with him his friends Hoenir and Loki;
and they rambled many days among the icy cliffs and along the barren
shores of the great frozen sea. In that country there was no game, and
no fish were found in the cold waters; and the three wanderers, as they
had brought no food with them, became very hungry. Late in the
afternoon of the seventh day, they reached some pasture lands belonging
to the giant Hymer, and saw a herd of the giants cattle browsing upon
the short grass which grew in the sheltered nooks among the hills.
"Ah!" cried Loki; "after fasting for a week we shall now have food in
abundance. Let us kill and eat."
So saying, he hurled a sharp stone at the fattest of Hymer's cows, and
killed her; and the three quickly dressed the choicest pieces of flesh
for their supper. Then Loki gathered twigs and dry grass, and kindled
a blazing fire; Hoenir filled the pot with water from melted ice; and
Odin threw into it the bits of tender meat. But, make the fire as hot
as they would, the water would not boil, and the flesh would not cook.
All night long the supperless three sat hungry around the fire; and,
every time they peeped into the kettle, the meat was as raw and
gustless as before. Morning came, but no breakfast. And all day long
Loki kept stirring the fire, and Odin and Hoenir waited hopefully but
impatiently. When the sun again went down, the flesh was still
uncooked, and their supper seemed no nearer ready than it was the night
before. As they were about yielding to despair, they heard a noise
overhead; and, looking up, they saw a huge gray eagle sitting on the
dead branch of an oak.
"Ha, ha!" cried the bird. "You are pretty fellows indeed! To sit
hungry by the fire a night and a day, rather than eat raw flesh,
becomes you well. Do but give me my share of it as it is, and I
warrant you the rest shall boil, and you shall have a fat supper."
"Agreed," answered Loki eagerly. "Come down and get your share."
The eagle waited for no second asking. Down he swooped right over the
blazing fire, and snatched not only the eagle's share, but also what
the Lybians call the lion's share; that is, he grasped in his strong
talons the kettle, with all the meat in it, and, flapping his huge
wings, slowly rose into the air, carrying his booty with him. The
three Asas were astonished. Loki was filled with anger. He seized a
long pole, upon the end of which a sharp hook was fixed, and struck at
the treacherous bird. The hook stuck fast in the eagle's back, and
Loki could not loose his hold of the other end of the pole. The great
bird soared high above the tree-tops, and over the hills, and carried
the astonished mischief-maker with him.
But it was no eagle. It was no bird that had thus outwitted the hungry
Asas: it was the giant Old Winter, clothed in his eagle plumage. Over
the lonely woods, and the snow-crowned mountains, and the frozen sea,
he flew, dragging the helpless Loki through tree-tops, and over jagged
rocks, scratching and bruising his body, and almost tearing his arms
from his shoulders. At last he alighted on the craggy top of an
iceberg, where the storm winds shrieked, and the air was filled with
driving snow. As soon as Loki could speak, he begged the cunning giant
to carry him back to his comrades,---Odin and Hoenir.
"On one condition only will I carry you back," answered Old Winter.
"Swear to me that you will betray into my hands Dame Idun and her
golden key."
Loki asked no questions, but gladly gave the oath; and the giant flew
back with him across the sea, and dropped him, torn and bleeding and
lame, by the side of the fire, where Odin and Hoenir still lingered.
And the three made all haste to leave that cheerless place, and
returned to Odin's glad home in Asgard.
Some weeks after this, Loki, the Prince of Mischief-makers, went to
Bragi's house to see Idun. He found her busied with her household
cares, not thinking of a visit from anyone.
"I have come, good dame," said he, "to taste your apples again; for I
feel old age coming on apace."
Idun was astonished.
"You are not looking old," she answered. "There is not a single gray
hair upon your head, and not a wrinkle on your brow. If it were not
for that scar upon your cheek, and the arm which you carry in a sling,
you would look as stout and as well as I have ever seen you. Besides,
I remember that it was only a year ago when you last tasted of my
fruit. Is it possible that a single winter should make you old?"
"A single winter has made me very lame and feeble at least," said Loki.
"I have been scarcely able to walk about since my return from the
North. Another winter without a taste of your apples will be the death
of me."
Then the kind-hearted Idun, when she saw that Loki was really lame,
went to the box, and opened it with her golden key, and gave him one of
the precious apples to taste. He took the fruit in his hand, bit it,
and gave it back to the good dame. She put it in its place again,
closed the lid, and locked it with her usual care.
"Your apples are not so good as they used to be," said Loki, making a
very wry face. "Why don't you fill your box with fresh fruit?"
Idun was amazed. Her apples were supposed to be always fresh,--fresher
by far than any that grow nowadays. None of the Asas had ever before
complained about them; and she told Loki so.
"Very well," said he. "I see you do not believe me, and that you mean
to feed us on your sour, withered apples, when we might as well have
golden fruit. If you were not so bent on having your own way, I could
tell you where you might fill your box with the choicest of apples,
such as Odin loves. I saw them in the forest over yonder, hanging ripe
on the trees. But women will always have their own way; and you must
have yours, even though you do feed us on withered apples."
So saying, and without waiting to hear an answer, he limped out at the
door, and was soon gone from sight.
Idun thought long and anxiously upon the words which Loki had spoken;
and, the more she thought, the more she felt troubled. If her husband,
the wise Bragi, had been at home, what would she not have given? He
would have understood the mischief-maker's cunning. But he had gone on
a long journey to the South, singing in Nature's choir and painting
Nature's landscapes, and she would not see him again until the return
of spring. At length she opened the box, and looked at the fruit. The
apples were certainly fair and round: she could not see a wrinkle or a
blemish on any of them; their color was the same golden-red,--like the
sky at dawn of a summer's day; yet she thought there must be something
wrong about them. She took up one of the apples, and tasted it. She
fancied that it really was sour, and she hastily put it back, and
locked the box again.
"He said that he had seen better apples than these growing in the
woods," said she to herself. "I half believe that he told the truth,
although everybody knows that he is not always trustworthy. I think I
shall go to the forest and see for myself, at any rate."
So she donned her cloak and hood, and, with a basket on her arm, left
the house, and walked rapidly away, along the road which led to the
forest. It was much farther than she had thought, and the sun was
almost down when she reached the edge of the wood. But no apple trees
were there. Tall oaks stretched their bare arms up toward the sky, as
if praying for help. There were thorn trees and brambles everywhere;
but there was no fruit, neither were there any flowers, nor even green
leaves. The Frost-giants had been there.
Idun was about to turn her footsteps homeward, when she heard a wild
shriek in the tree-tops over her head; and, before she could look up,
she felt herself seized in the eagle talons of Old Winter. Struggle as
she would, she could not free herself. High up, over wood and stream,
the giant carried her; and then he flew swiftly away with her, toward
his home in the chill Northland; and, when morning came, poor Idun
found herself in an ice-walled castle in the cheerless country of the
giants. But she was glad to know that the precious box was safely
locked at home, and that the golden key was still at her girdle.
Time passed; and I fear that Idun would have been forgotten by all,
save her husband Bragi, had not the Asas begun to feel the need of her
apples. Day after day they came to Idun's house, hoping to find the
good dame and her golden key at home; and each day they went away some
hours older than when they had come. No one had seen the missing Idun
since the day when Loki had visited her, and none could guess what had
become of her. The heads of all the folk grew white with age; deep
furrows were ploughed in their faces; their eyes grew dim, and their
hearing failed; their hands trembled; their limbs became palsied; their
feet tottered; and all feared that Old Age would bring Death in his
train.
Then Bragi and Thor questioned Loki very sharply; and when he felt that
he, too, was growing old and feeble, he regretted the mischief he had
done, and told them how he had decoyed Idun into Old Winter's clutches.
The Asas were very angry; and Thor threatened to crush Loki with his
hammer, if he did not at once bring Idun safe home again.
So Loki borrowed the falcon plumage of Freyja, the queen of love, and
with it flew to the country of the giants. When he reached Old
Winter's castle, he found the good dame Idun shut up in the prison
tower and bound with fetters of ice; but the giant himself was on the
frozen sea, herding Old Hymer's cows, the cold icebergs. Loki quickly
broke the bonds that held Idun, and led her out of her prison house;
and then he shut her up in a magic nut-shell which he held between his
claws, and flew with the speed of the wind back toward the Southland
and the home of the Asas. But Old Winter coming home, and learning
what had been done, donned his eagle plumage and followed swiftly in
pursuit.
Bragi and Thor, anxiously gazing into the sky, saw Loki, in Freyja's
falcon plumage, speeding homeward, with the nut-shell in his talons,
and Old Winter, in his eagle plumage, dashing after in sharp pursuit.
Quickly they gathered chips and slender twigs, and placed them high
upon the castle wall; and, when Loki with his precious burden had flown
past, they touched fire to the dry heap, and the flames blazed up to
the sky, and caught Old Winter's plumage, as, close behind the falcon,
he blindly pressed. And his wings were scorched in the flames; and he
fell helpless to the ground, and was slain within the castle gates.
Loki slackened his speed; and, when he reached Bragi's house, he
dropped the nut-shell softly before the door. As it touched the
ground, it gently opened, and Idun, radiant with smiles, and clothed in
gay attire, stepped forth, and greeted her husband and his waiting
friends. The heavenly music of Bragi's long-silent harp welcomed her
home; and she took the golden key from her girdle, and unlocked the
box, and gave of her apples to the aged company; and, when they had
tasted, their youth was renewed.
It is thus with the seasons and their varied changes. The gifts of
Spring are youth and jollity, and renewed strength; and the music or
air and water and all things, living and lifeless, follow in her train.
The desolating Winter plots to steal her from the earth, and the
Summer-heat deserts and betrays her. Then the music of Nature is
hushed, and all creatures pine in sorrow for her absence, and the world
seems dying of white Old Age. But at length the Summer-heat repents,
and frees her from her prison house; the icy fetters with which Old
Winter bound her are melted in the beams of the returning sun, and the
earth is young again.