Stories from Northern Myths
by Emilie K. Baker · English · Gutenberg #46288 · 385,985 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: Stories from Northern Myths
Author: Emilie K. Baker
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STORIES FROM NORTHERN MYTHS
by
EMILIE KIP BAKER
Author of "Stories of Old Greece and Rome"
New York
The Macmillan Company
1914
All rights reserved
Copyright, 1914,
By the Macmillan Company.
Set up and electrotyped. Published September, 1914.
Norwood Press
J. S. Cushing Co.--Berwick & Smith Co.
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.
* * * * * *
[Decoration]
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
NEW YORK · BOSTON · CHICAGO · DALLAS
ATLANTA · SAN FRANCISCO
MACMILLAN & CO., Limited
LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTA
MELBOURNE
THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd.
TORONTO
* * * * * *
TO
SARAH M. HOMANS
CONTENTS
PAGE
I. How All Things Began 1
II. Odin's Search for Wisdom 9
III. The Story of the Magic Mead 18
IV. Gods and Men 27
V. Sif's Golden Hair and the Making of the Hammer 40
VI. The Binding of the Fenris Wolf 51
VII. How Thor Went Fishing 58
VIII. The Building of the Fortress 66
IX. How the Hammer Was Lost and Found 73
X. Iduna's Apples 80
XI. How Thor's Pride Was Brought Low.
Part I 91
XII. How Thor's Pride Was Brought Low.
Part II 100
XIII. The Wooing of Gerd 109
XIV. How Thor Fought the Giant Hrungner 117
XV. The Story of Balder 126
XVI. Andvari's Hoard 137
XVII. The Story of Siegmund 149
XVIII. The Vengeance of the Volsungs 159
XIX. The Magic Sword 169
XX. The Slaying of Fafnir 183
XXI. The Valkyrie 196
XXII. Siegfried at Gunther's Court 204
XXIII. The Wooing of Brunhilde 215
XXIV. How Brunhilde Came to Burgundy 228
XXV. The Death of Siegfried 238
XXVI. The Last of the Hoard 251
XXVII. The Punishment of Loki 259
XXVIII. The Twilight of the Gods 266
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
FACING PAGE
Odin disguised as a Traveller 21
Loki 41
Siegfried and the Famous Sword Balmung 183
Siegfried fighting the Dragon 190
Valkyrie bearing Hero to Valhalla 200
Wotan's Farewell to Brunhilde 202
Siegfried's Triumphant Entry into Burgundy with
Captives and Spoils 211
Gunther and Brunhilde arrive at Burgundy and are
received by Kriemhild 232
Gunther and Brunhilde 236
Siegfried and Kriemhild 240
Loki and Sigyn 264
Stories from Northern Myths
How All Things Began
Long, long ago, before the earth was made,--and there was no sea and
sky or night and day,--the vast, unending Land of Mist stretched away
on one side of a bottomless gulf,[1] on the other side of which lay
the Land of Fire. The Land of Mist was called Niflheim, and here
eternal winter reigned with fog and snow and darkness that wrapped the
dreary land about like a shroud. From the heart of Niflheim there
flowed a dark, tumultuous river, and as it rushed down into the chasm
at its edge, the waters met the cold blasts that swept up from below,
and great mountains of ice were formed on the side of the gulf over
which the chill fogs gathered and the bitter winds blew.
[1] It is called in the Eddas "Ginungagap."
The never changing twilight which brooded over the gulf was sometimes
illuminated by sparks that were blown over from the Land of Fire that
lay just beyond. This place was called Muspelheim, and here the whole
land glowed like a living furnace with flames that burned with the
heat of a million suns. Sparks of fire flew up in great numbers into
the clouds, and these, glowing like balls of fire, were thrown far and
wide on the land. Some of the burning sparks floated northward toward
the land of snows, and as they fell into the ice-filled gulf, they
changed to clouds of steam which were soon congealed into hoar-frost.
Then one day this great mass of frost, on which fresh sparks of fire
still fell, was suddenly warmed into life, and out of ice and snow and
fire and heat the great giant Ymir was made.
Now although Ymir was fashioned out of these strange elements and so
never felt the cold, he was soon very hungry in his home of ice and
snow, and there was no food to be found anywhere. For a long time the
giant wandered over the frost-bound land, and then one day he came
upon the gigantic cow Audhumbla, who stood among the ice-hills calmly
chewing her cud. From her udders flowed four streams of milk, and this
was more than enough to satisfy the giant's hunger. He never strayed
far from the wonderful cow, and one day, as he watched her licking
salt from the blocks of ice, he was surprised to see a head suddenly
appear through the melting ice. Audhumbla kept on licking with her
strong, rough tongue, and soon the whole body of a man emerged. As
this strange being stood before the eyes of the astonished Ymir, the
giant was filled with fear and hatred, for he knew that from the
mighty Iceman[2] would spring a new race that would soon make war upon
the giants and destroy them.
[2] His name was Bure, and his son was Bor, the father of
Odin, Vile and Ve.
This is, indeed, just what did happen later on, for from the children
of the Iceman came the gods Odin, Vile and Ve, who began at once to
make war upon Ymir and all his kindred. In the terrible battle that
took place between the gods and giants, Ymir was killed; and from his
body poured forth such a great river of blood that all of the giants
were drowned in it except two. These were Bergelemer and his wife, who
escaped on a chest that floated away to the edge of the world. From
them sprang a new race of frost-giants who continued to make trouble
for the gods just as their forefathers had done.
Then Odin[3] took the body of Ymir, and with the help of his brothers
he fashioned from it the earth and the sea and the sky. From the great
masses of flesh they formed the earth, and all around it they planted
Ymir's eyebrows to make a high fence as a protection against the
frost-giants. His immense bones they shaped into hills, and out of
his teeth they made the cliffs, while his thick hair they used for
trees and bushes and grass. His blood supplied the boundless ocean,
and his skull formed the arching sky in which the gods placed some of
the sparks that floated out of Muspelheim. These they caught and set
in the heavens and called them stars. The sky was held in place by
four strong dwarfs who stood east and west and south and north with
the great weight resting on their shoulders. All this work seemed good
in the eyes of the gods, and they knew that everything as it left
their hands would prosper if only the frost-giants would stay in
Jötunheim--their dreary, fog-wrapped country that lay beyond the ocean
which now encircled the earth.
[3] Sometimes spelled Woden, from which comes Wodensday
(Wednesday).
To the giantess Night, and her son, Day, the gods gave chariots and
swift horses, so that they might drive through the sky every
twenty-four hours. Night had a dark chariot drawn by the black horse
Hrimfaxe (Frosty-mane), who rushed so swiftly through the heavens that
drops fell from his sweating flanks and bit, and these became dew or
hoar-frost as they lighted on the earth. Day drove a white horse which
was called Skinfaxe (Shining-mane); and when the chariot of his dusky
mother sank out of sight behind the hills, he harnessed his shining
steed and followed in the same path she had chosen.
Beside the chariots which belonged to Night and Day, the gods set two
others in the heavens to light the newly made earth. From the flames
that leaped forever out of the Land of Fire they made the sun and
moon, and placed each one in a golden chariot so that they might be
driven through the sky. The horses which drew the sun and moon were
beautiful white creatures with shining golden manes. In order that the
restive steeds of the sun should not be scorched by its fierce heat,
the gods placed a great shield in front of the chariot to protect the
animals' flowing manes. The moon horses did not need anything to stand
between them and its mild rays.
Then Odin chose Mani and Sol--the son and daughter of a giantess--to
drive the chariots of the sun and moon; and the story goes that many,
many years later, when there were people on the earth, Mani looked out
of his golden chariot one night and saw two little children--a boy and
a girl--carrying between them a heavy pail of water. These children
were the servants of a cruel giant who made them work all night
instead of sleeping; and Mani, feeling very sorry for them, and being
rather lonely all by himself, put out a long arm and caught up the
children from the earth. Then he set them beside him in the moon; and
they have remained there with Mani ever since.
The frost-giants, who loved dreariness and gloom, were very angry
when they saw how bright the world was with the light of the sun and
moon; so they sent two fierce gray wolves to follow close upon the
track of the bright chariots. Sometimes they came so near that their
great black shadows dimmed the brightness of the sun, and sometimes
they hung so close to the wheels of the moon-car that its light never
reached the earth. The wolves never succeeded, however, in eating up
the chariots, though their grim shapes often lingered threateningly in
the sky.
When the gods had formed the earth--which they called Midgard--they
chose the most beautiful spot they could find for their home. In the
very centre of the earth rose a lofty mountain, and on the top of it
was a broad, lovely meadow where the gods built their shining city of
Asgard. In the midst of the city was a spacious hall, made of gold and
the purest marble, and here were the thrones where the gods sat when
in council.[4] Beyond the hall were the palaces of the gods[5A] and
goddesses,[5B] also made of marble and silver or gold, and near by was
a huge smithy where the gods forged the weapons needed to defend their
city from their enemies the frost-giants.
[4] This hall was called Gladsheim, and the palace of the
goddesses was called Vingolf.
[5A], [5B] They are also called the Asas, Æsir, Anses or Anse-race.
From Asgard to Midgard the gods stretched a rainbow bridge which they
called Bifrost; and over this they passed and repassed on their
frequent journeys to the earth. There was no human being on the earth
at this time, and the gods felt sorry that no eyes but their own could
look upon the fruitful, blossoming land. No one ploughed the fields or
built houses, or sailed in ships across the seas. No voices of
children rang over the meadows; no sound of the reaper's scythe broke
the stillness of the fields; and no ringing of metal on the smith's
firm anvil was heard throughout the silent earth.
Then the gods took some of the earth-mould and made of it a host of
tiny creatures which they called Dwarfs or Gnomes[6]; but when Odin
saw how ugly they were, with their misshapen bodies and great heads,
he condemned them to live underground and never to come up into the
light of day. So the dwarfs spent their time delving into the heart of
the earth for gold and silver and precious stones; and they became the
cleverest workmen at their tiny forges, making wonderful things of
every kind of metal. They were cunning, too, and kept their secrets
well, so that neither gods nor men knew the hiding-place of their
treasures.
[6] Sometimes also called Trolls.
Besides the dwarfs, the gods made the Fairies,--or Elves,--but these
were so airily and daintily fashioned that they seemed to belong to
the sky instead of the earth. So the gods built the fairy folk a home
between Midgard and Asgard--a beautiful place called Elfland, all made
of rainbow colours and moonbeams, and gossamer silks and delicate
spiders' webs. The gods also gave these little people gauzy wings so
that they could fly down to earth and play with the butterflies, and
make caps of harebells, and dance in the moonlight round a fairy ring.
They were never wicked and spiteful like the Gnomes, though they
sometimes liked to play good-natured tricks on stupid people; and
fortunate indeed was the child or man who won a fairy for his friend.
One day Odin and Hœnir and Loki were walking about on the earth; and
as they drew near to the seashore they saw two stately trees, an ash
and an elm, standing side by side. Then Odin took the trees, and out
of them he made two living beings that resembled the gods themselves
in form and feature. Hœnir touched their foreheads, that they might
have sight and wisdom, and Loki gave them warm blood, with the power
to speak and hear and feel. Thus man and woman were created; and the
gods called the man Ask, and the woman Embla, from the names of the
trees from which they were made.
Odin's Search for Wisdom
At the end of the rainbow bridge stood the wonderful tree Ygdrasil,
which bound all the worlds together in the grasp of its mighty hands.
Some of the roots were firmly fixed in Midgard, and even extended
underground to the home of the swarthy elves. Some roots branched out
into Jötunheim, where the frost-giants ever strove to tear them out;
and one root struck down into the very depths of the earth, to that
dark region of the dead where ruled the terrible goddess Hel. The Tree
of Life also grew upwards to a marvellous height, and its branches
spread out so widely that many birds and beasts came to it for
shelter. The topmost boughs reached up to Asgard, where they
overshadowed Odin's hall.
At the foot of the tree Ygdrasil sat the three Norns--or Fates[7]--who
weave the thread of each man's life. Every day the Norns sprinkled the
tree with water from the sacred Urdar fountain; so the tree always
flourished, and its leaves kept fresh and green in spite of the
dragon[8] which forever gnawed at its roots, hoping to destroy it.
The heavy foliage that crowned its upper boughs never lacked for
moisture, but grew more beautiful each year, although Heidrun, the
goat of Odin, browsed on its leaves, and though it furnished food to
four great stags who grazed beside it. From the horns of these stags
dew continually fell in such abundance that it supplied water for all
the rivers of the earth.
[7] Their names were Urd, Verdande and Skuld.
[8] The dragon's name was Nidhogg.
The very topmost branch of the Tree of Life was called the Peace
Bough, and on it sat a great eagle who kept watch over all that
happened in the worlds below. Up and down the trunk of the mighty
Ygdrasil scampered the squirrel Ratatosk, a mischievous little fellow
who delighted to make trouble between the eagle and the dragon at the
foot of the tree by repeating malicious speeches which he said each
had made of the other. In this way he hoped to stir up such strife
that he would some day see a terrible battle fought between them.
Ratatosk was daring enough to explore all the land that was
overshadowed by the boughs of Ygdrasil, but he never ventured near the
gates of Asgard, nor did he risk going into the deep grove that
sheltered Mimer's well--that wonderful well whose waters flowed down
into the roots of the Tree of Life.
The Peace Bough hung over the hall of the gods just above the golden
throne where Odin sat ruling the affairs of gods and men. On Odin's
head was a shining helmet shaped like an eagle, and over his
shoulders was thrown a mantle of deep blue with such a wonderfully
jewelled hem that it looked as if the cloak were edged with stars. In
his hand he held a spear which was deemed so sacred that if any one
swore an oath upon its point, he would never dare to break it. At
Odin's feet crouched two great wolves[9] which he fed daily with his
own hand; and on his shoulders perched his two ravens Hugin and Munin
(Thought and Memory) who flew each morning over the earth and brought
back to Odin the news of all that was going on in the earth below.
Sometimes they told him of the brave deeds of heroes; sometimes they
spoke of the swarthy elves, or of the frost-giants plotting vengeance
in their home beyond the frozen seas; and sometimes they warned him
that the Midgard serpent, who lay with his immense body encircling the
earth, was lashing the sea into foam with his tail and rolling up the
waves until they threatened to cover the earth.
[9] Their names were Geri and Freki.
Since the ruling of the world was in Odin's hands, he was anxious to
gain wisdom enough for this great task; and though the gods far
excelled the earth-folk in knowledge, there were some of the
frost-giants who were wiser than Odin, for they knew of things that
happened long before the coming of the gods. On this account the
dwellers in Asgard were ever fearful lest their enemies should
destroy their shining city; and Odin longed for the knowledge that
would make him greater than any one in all the worlds.
There was only one way to get such wisdom as Odin wanted, and that was
to drink deep of the water that flowed into Mimer's well. No one save
the hoary old giant himself had ever tasted the water of the Well of
Wisdom; but Odin knew that without it he could never learn of things
past and present and to come. So he laid aside his spear and helmet;
and mounting his eight-legged horse Sleipnir, rode over the rainbow
bridge to the deep grove of trees in the heart of which old Mimer sat
guarding his sacred well.
Leaving Sleipnir some distance behind, Odin advanced alone; and soon
came in sight of the giant seated like a stone image beside the Well
of Wisdom. Mimer was so very, very old that he looked as if he had sat
there ever since the beginning of time; and as Odin stood in the dimly
lighted grove, he seemed to be the only living thing in all that vast
stillness. The giant's hair was white, and his beard had grown so long
that it reached almost to the ground as he leaned forward with his
head resting on his hand. In the other hand he held an ivory horn; but
though many had passed by the sacred well, no god or mortal had ever
been given a drink from Mimer's horn.
Odin advanced slowly to the giant's side; and the old man, who had
sat for ages and ages looking down into the clear depths of the water,
now raised his eyes and fixed them, not unkindly, on the waiting god.
Great and wise as Odin was, being ruler of gods and men, he felt a
strange awe in the presence of this hoary old Mimer, who lived long
before the creation of the worlds and was living before the gods and
the frost-giants engaged in their terrible warfare. As Odin approached
the sacred well, Mimer was fully aware of who his visitor was, for he
knew all things that ever had been, or are, or were yet to be. His
eyes, so keen and piercing, looked kindly upon the god from beneath
his shaggy brows; and his voice sounded soft to Odin's ears as he said
slowly:--
"What does the All-Father seek so far from sunny Asgard?"
"I have come to beg a draught from your well, O Mimer," answered Odin.
The old giant's face grew grave. "Whoever asks for that," he said,
"must be willing to give much in return. Many desire to drink of the
waters of wisdom, but few will pay the price. What will you give in
return for a draught from Mimer's well?"
Only a moment did Odin hesitate; then he said boldly, "I will give
anything you ask." At these words Mimer handed him the ivory horn,
saying: "Drink, then; and the wisdom of the ages shall be yours. But
before you go hence, leave with me as a pledge one of your eyes." So
Odin drank deep of the well of wisdom; and thereafter no one in all
the worlds was able to compare with the Father of the Gods in wisdom.
None of the dwellers in Asgard ever questioned Odin concerning his
visit to Mimer's well; but they honoured him more deeply for the great
sacrifice he had made; and whenever Odin visited the earth to mingle
in the affairs of men, people knew him as the god who had but a single
eye.
There was one other person besides old Mimer who was reputed to have
greater wisdom than the gods, and this was the frost-giant
Vafthrudner. Now Odin was very anxious to measure his knowledge with
that of his old enemy, for if the frost-giants were no longer wiser
than the wisest of the gods, there was less need to fear them. To put
his wisdom to the test, Odin set out on the long, dreary journey to
Jötunheim; and soon he found Vafthrudner sitting at the door of his
snow-house. When the giant saw a visitor approaching, he stopped
shaking the icicles from his frozen beard, and stared hard at the
intruder. Odin had disguised himself as a traveller, so Vafthrudner
did not know him and thought he was another foolish adventurer who had
come to learn wisdom at the cost of his life. For the penalty which
the loser must pay in his strife with the giant's wisdom was death.
So Vafthrudner laughed until the mountains shook when Odin declared
that this was the object of his journey to Jötunheim; for it amused
the giant vastly to think that a mere man had come to contend with him
in wisdom. He bade the stranger sit down, and Odin obeyed, pulling his
slouched hat well over his eye, so that the giant might not guess who
his visitor was. "Tell me," said Vafthrudner, "the name of the river
that divides Asgard from Jötunheim."
"The river Ifing, where the waters are never frozen," replied Odin,
quickly. The frost-giant looked surprised, but he only said:--
"You have answered rightly, O Wise One. And now tell me the names of
the horses that draw the chariots of Night and Day."
"Skinfaxe and Hrimfaxe," promptly replied Odin. Vafthrudner turned and
looked hard at this remarkable stranger who could speak so readily of
things that no man was thought to know. Then he asked many more
questions, to which Odin gave unhesitatingly the right answers; and
soon the frost-giant began to feel afraid of the strange traveller who
seemed to know more than the gods themselves. Anxiously he put the
last question, saying, "Tell me, O Great One, the name of the plain on
which the Last Battle will be fought." Now Vafthrudner knew that no
mortal man could possibly answer this question, so he waited
fearfully for Odin's reply.
"On the plain of Vigrid, which is a hundred miles on each side," came
the answer; and at this the frost-giant began to quake with fear, for
his boasted wisdom had been fairly met, and at last some one had come
to Jötunheim to defeat him.
Now it was Odin's turn to ask questions; and he drew from this wisest
of the giants a knowledge of things that happened long before the gods
came to dwell in Asgard. He learned all the secrets that the giants
guarded so carefully; and he made Vafthrudner tell him of the dim
unknown future, and of the events that would shape the lives of gods
and men. So eager was Odin to gain the desired wisdom that he forgot
how long he had been sitting at the frost-giant's side and listening
while Vafthrudner told him of the time when no gods were living, and
of the time when no gods should be.
The long day waned, and the curious stars peeped out, and Mani--as he
drove his horses over the western hills--wondered why Odin lingered so
long in dreary Jötunheim. When the All-Father had learned all he
desired to know, he rose up and said: "One last question I will put, O
Vafthrudner; and by its answer we may judge which is the wiser of us
two. What did Odin whisper in the ear of Balder as that shining one
lay on the funeral pyre?" When the frost-giant heard this question he
knew at last who it was that had been contending with him, and he
answered humbly: "Who but thyself, O Odin, can tell the words which
thou didst say to thy son? Thou art truly the wisest of all."
So Odin departed on the long journey back to Asgard, and the gods
rejoiced at his return, for hitherto no one had ever been known to
strive with Vafthrudner and live.
The Story of the Magic Mead
There once lived on the earth a man named Kvasir; and he was much
beloved by the gods because they had given him the wonderful gift of
poetry. Kvasir was a great traveller, and wherever he went men begged
him to tell them, in his singing words, of the life of the gods and of
the brave deeds of heroes. So the poet went from cottage to castle
sharing his gift with rich and poor alike. Sometimes he told the
familiar tales that had grown old on men's lips; and sometimes he sang
of heroes in far-off forgotten lands.
Every one loved Kvasir--every one except the spiteful little dwarfs
who grew jealous of him, and longed to do him some evil. So one day
when the poet was walking on the seashore, two of the dwarfs named
Fialar and Galar came up to him and begged him to visit their cave in
the rocks. Now Kvasir never suspected wrong of any one, so he
willingly followed the dwarfs into a dark cavern underground. Here the
treacherous brothers slew him, and drained his blood into three jars
in which they had already placed some honey. Thus of sweetness mingled
with a poet's life-blood they brewed the Magic Mead, which would give
to any one who drank of it gentleness and wisdom and the gift of
poesy.
When the dwarfs had mixed the mead, they took great care to hide it in
a secret cave; and then, proud of their cruel cunning, they set off in
search of further adventures. Soon they found the giant Gilling asleep
on the seashore; and after pinching him awake, they asked him to row
them a little way in his boat. The giant, who was both good-natured
and stupid, took the dwarfs into his boat, and began to row
vigorously. Then Galar suddenly steered the boat so that it struck on
a sharp rock and was overturned. The poor giant, who could not swim,
was immediately drowned; while the wicked little dwarfs climbed upon
the keel of the boat and finally drifted ashore.
Not content with this cruel act, they went straightway to the giant's
house and called to his wife to come quickly, for Gilling was
drowning. The giantess at once hurried to her husband's aid; and as
she came through the doorway, Fialar, who had climbed up above the
lintel, suddenly dropped a millstone on her head, killing her
instantly.
As the dwarfs were jumping up and down exulting over their success,
the giant's son--whose name was Suttung--came along. When he saw his
mother stretched dead upon the ground, and the little men skipping
about in their wicked glee, he guessed who was guilty of this
shameful deed. So he seized Galar and Fialar, one in each hand; and,
wading far out into the sea, he set them on a certain rock which was
sure to be covered with water when the tide rose. As he turned to go
away, the dwarfs screamed to him in terror and begged him to take them
back to land. In their fright they promised to give him anything he
might ask if only he would put them safe on shore.
Now Suttung had heard of the Magic Mead, and he longed very much to
possess it; so he made the dwarfs promise to give him the three jars
in exchange for their lives. Much as Galar and Fialar hated to do
this, they had no choice but to agree to the giant's demand; so as
soon as they were on land again, they delivered the precious mead into
his hands. As Suttung could not be at home all day to guard his
treasure, he hid the jars in a deep recess in the rocks, and bade his
daughter Gunlod watch over them night and day. The mouth of the cavern
was sealed up with an enormous stone so that no one could enter except
by a passageway known only to Gunlod, and Suttung felt that his
treasure was safe from both gods and men.
[Illustration: Odin disguised as a Traveller]
Meanwhile the news of Kvasir's death had been brought to Odin by his
ravens Hugin and Munin, and he determined to get possession of the
wonderful mead that had been brewed from the poet's blood. So he
disguised himself as a traveller, pulled his gray hat well over his
face and set out for the country where the Magic Mead was hidden. As
he neared the giant's home, he saw a field in which nine sturdy
thralls[10] were mowing hay. These men did not belong to Suttung, but
were the servants of his brother Baugi. This suited Odin's purpose
just as well, so he went quickly up to the thralls and said: "Your
scythes seem very dull. How much faster you could work if they were
sharper. Shall I whet them for you?" The men were surprised at this
unexpected offer of help; but they accepted the stranger's assistance
gladly. When they found how sharp he had made their scythes, they
begged him to sell or give them the marvellous whetstone. To this Odin
replied, "Whoever can catch it, may have it as a gift," and with these
words he threw the stone among them. Then began a fierce battle among
the thralls for the possession of the prize; and they cut at each
other so fiercely with their scythes that by evening every one of them
lay dead in the field.
[10] Thralls; servants.
While they were fighting thus savagely, Odin sought out Baugi's house
and begged for supper and a night's lodging. The giant received him
hospitably; and as they sat eating, word was brought to Baugi that his
nine thralls were dead. For a time Odin listened to his host's
complaints of his evil luck and of how much wealth he would lose
through his unmowed fields. Then he offered his services to Baugi,
promising to do as much work as the nine thralls. The giant was very
doubtful whether his visitor could make good this boast; but he
accepted the offer quickly, and next morning Odin set to work in the
fields.
Before many days had passed, all the hay on Baugi's land was carefully
stored away in the barns, and Odin came to the giant to demand his
wages. "What payment shall I make you?" asked Baugi, fearing that a
great sum would be named as the price of such remarkable service. He
was surprised, therefore, when Odin answered, "All I ask is a draught
of the Magic Mead which your brother Suttung keeps hidden in a
cavern."
"That is not an easy thing to get," replied the giant, "for though I
would be glad to fetch you some of the mead, my brother has never let
me enter the cave. However, I will ask him to bring you a single
draught." So Baugi went in search of his brother, and told him of the
wonderful service that Odin had rendered. Then he asked for one drink
of the Magic Mead for his servant. At this Suttung flew into a great
rage and cried:--
"Do you think I would give any of the mead to a stranger who can do
the work of nine thralls? No _man_ could have such wonderful power.
It is a god that you have been calling your servant, and the gods have
been our enemies since the beginning of time."
Now Baugi feared and hated the gods as much as his brother; but he had
given his word to Odin to help him get the Magic Mead, and he did not
dare to break his promise. So when he returned to his one-time
servant, and told of the ill success of his visit to Suttung, Odin
answered: "Then we must try some other way. Take me to the cavern
where the mead is hidden; but see that your brother knows nothing of
our going."
Very unwillingly Baugi consented to show Odin the secret cave; and as
they walked, he plotted how to get rid of his troublesome servant. It
seemed to take the giant a very long time to find the cavern; but when
they finally reached it, Odin drew an augur from his pocket, and began
to bore a hole in the great stone that stood at the cave's mouth. As
soon as he grew tired, he made Baugi take his turn at the augur; and,
owing to the giant's great strength, a hole was soon bored through the
rock. Then Odin quickly turned himself into a snake and crept into the
opening while Baugi, seeing his servant no longer beside him, and
realizing what the sudden transformation meant, made a stab at the
snake with the augur, hoping to kill it. But Odin had slid safely
through the hole, and was already inside the cave.
Taking his rightful form, Odin now began to look eagerly about him,
and when his eyes grew accustomed to the dimness of the cavern, he saw
the daughter of Suttung seated in the furthest corner beside the three
jars that contained the Magic Mead. He came softly to Gunlod's side,
and spoke to her so gently that she was not frightened at the sudden
appearance of a stranger; and when he smiled at her with a reassuring
look, she asked, "Who are you, and why are you here?"
"I am a traveller, tired and thirsty after my long journey," answered
Odin. "Will you not give me something to drink?"
Gunlod shook her head. "I have nothing here save the Magic Mead, and
that I dare not give you," she said sadly. Then Odin begged for just a
single draught, but the giant's daughter firmly refused to let him
touch the jars.
At last, after much coaxing and soft words, Gunlod allowed her visitor
to take one sip of the mead; but as soon as Odin got the jars in his
hands, he drained each one dry before the astonished maiden had
realized what had happened. Then he changed himself quickly into a
snake, and glided out through the opening in the rock. It was now but
a moment's work to assume an eagle's form, and start at once on his
journey back to Asgard. He knew well that there was no time to lose,
for Baugi had already gone to his brother with the news of what had
happened at the cave's mouth.
When Suttung heard Baugi's story and realized that his precious mead
was being stolen by one of the gods, he hurried at once to the cavern.
Just as he reached it, he saw an eagle rise heavily up from the earth,
and he knew this was some god in disguise bearing away the Magic Mead
to Asgard. So he quickly changed himself into an eagle, and started in
pursuit of the one with slowly moving wings. Odin could not fly very
fast, for the mead made him heavy; and he was much distressed to see
that the giant was easily gaining on him. As they both neared the
gates of Asgard, some of the gods were looking out, and they saw the
two birds approaching. They wondered what the pursuit might mean; but
it was not until the eagles neared the outer walls that the watchers
realized that it was Odin fleeing from an enemy, and straining his
weary wings to reach Asgard.
Then they laid a great pile of wood on the inner walls, and to this
they applied a torch the moment that the first eagle had passed safely
over. The flames shot up with a roar just as the pursuer had almost
caught his prey. The fire scorched Baugi's great wings, and the smoke
blinded his eyes so that he fluttered helplessly down to the earth.
Meanwhile the Magic Mead was safe in Asgard, and there it was put in
care of Bragi, the white-haired son of Odin. Thus the mead remained
forever with the gods; but sometimes a favoured mortal is given, at
his birth, a drop of this divine drink; and then, in later years, men
find that a poet has been born among them.
Gods and Men
I
Near Odin's council hall was a fair white building called the Hall of
Mists,[11] and here sat Frigga,[12] the wife of Odin, spinning the
many-coloured clouds. She spent long hours beside her golden wheel;
and when she spun by day, the clouds were white and soft and fleecy;
but toward evening Frigga put a touch of colour into her work, and
then the heavens glowed with yellow and violet and red. It was through
Odin's careful wife that snow fell plentifully in winter, for then
Frigga shook her feather beds, and made them ready for the touch of
the spring sunshine. At her command the rain fell all through the
year, so that the streets of Asgard might always be kept spotless. It
was Frigga, too, who made the wonderful gift of flax to men; and she
taught the women how to spin and weave.
[11] Also named Fensalir.
[12] Frigga is also called Fricka.
Frigga was very fond of children; and one day, as she looked down upon
the earth, she saw two little boys playing together on the seashore.
They were Geirrod and Agnar, sons of a wealthy king[13]; and Frigga
grew to love them very dearly. She was so anxious to talk to them and
know them, that she persuaded Odin to go with her down to the earth;
and, having disguised themselves as an old fisherman and his wife,
they took possession of a deserted hut. This hut was on an island many
miles from the country where Geirrod and Agnar lived; but Odin
promised Frigga that in spite of this, the children would come to her.
[13] King Hraudung.
One day Geirrod and his brother went out rowing in their boat, and a
storm came up which blew the tiny craft far out to sea. The boys
became terribly frightened; and the wind tossed them about on the
angry waves until they would surely have perished if Odin had not been
watching over them. He kept their frail boat from sinking, and guided
it to the very shore on which he and Frigga were living in the little
hut. The boys were glad indeed when their feet once more touched the
solid earth; for they were tired and hungry and cold, and a good deal
frightened, too. They knew that they must be far from their own
country; but they were so glad to be out of reach of the waves that it
mattered little to them what land it was to which the wind had brought
them.
When they began to look about them, they found that the island was
very bleak and bare, with no flowers nor fruits nor berries to be seen
anywhere. Nothing seemed to be growing there but low, thorny bushes
that scratched them and tore their clothes as they attempted to make
their way further into the island. Soon it began to get dark, and the
boys stumbled helplessly through the briers; but at last they saw the
glimmer of a light, and groped their way toward it. Presently they
came to a small hut, through whose open window the friendly light was
streaming, and, without a moment's hesitation, they knocked loudly at
the door.
They were a bit surprised at the appearance of the two people within
the hut; for although they were simply clad as peasants, there was
something in their bearing that reminded Geirrod and Agnar of the
lordly guests who had sat at their father's table. But the boys were
too hungry and tired to pay much attention to the kind folk who took
them in, though they were grateful for the food and dry clothing and a
warm place by the fire. Some days later, Geirrod inquired of his host
how a fisherman could afford such wonderfully soft beds and food fit
for kings to dine upon. Agnar asked no questions, but wondered why the
flowers bloomed so plentifully around the cottage door, and why the
birds sang all day.
It was too stormy for the boys to attempt to venture on the sea for
many days; and even when the storm was over, the waves looked dark and
menacing. Winter was coming on, and there was little chance that the
sea would grow calm; so Geirrod and Agnar lingered day after day in
the fisherman's cottage, needing no persuasion to remain with their
new-found friends. Geirrod spent all of his time with the
fisherman,[14] learning the lore of the sea and becoming very adept in
the use of the spear as well as the humbler net and line. He was also
taught to hunt the game that was plentiful on the island, and he grew
very proud of his skill with the bow. All day he stayed at the
fisherman's side, listening, learning and wondering at the great
knowledge which his companion had of things that had happened before
the world was made. He heard many tales of heroes, and learned of
brave deeds that had been done by men of his own race. He knew that
the fisherman told these stories so that he himself might see how fine
a thing it was to be brave and strong and noble; and Geirrod, who was
by nature selfish and cruel, felt so thrilled by the old man's
stirring words that he wished to be like the heroes whose lives were
so loudly praised.
[14] The fisherman called himself Grimner.
Agnar usually stayed with the fisherman's wife in the cottage; for he
was gentler and more timid than his brother, and preferred to help his
kind foster-mother instead of hunting with Geirrod or venturing out
on the sea to spear the great fish. Agnar, too, heard many stories as
he sat by the goodwife's side while she spun her flax; but these were
not hero-tales nor stories of adventure. She told him how the god
Freyr makes the flowers bloom, and the fruits ripen; and how his
sister Freya watches over the earth all through the springtime. She
spoke of the love which these two had for all the beautiful things in
nature, for music and poetry, and how they even watched with delight
the dancing of the fairies in Elfheim. She told him how wonderful the
city of Asgard looked when the sun shone on the broad, golden streets;
and how the sounds reëchoed through the great hall called Valhalla
where Odin feasted with the heroes chosen from the battle-field.
So the winter passed quickly, and when spring came the fisherman built
a new, strong boat in which the boys were to make their voyage
homeward. Then Geirrod and Agnar said good-by to the kind folk with
whom they had passed so many happy days. Reluctantly they sailed away
from the friendly island, and soon came in sight of their own country.
A fair wind carried them gently all the way, for Odin had commanded
Njord, the storm god, to keep his blusterous winds under control. As
the boat neared the familiar shores, Geirrod forgot all the generous
lessons that the fisherman had tried to teach him, and he began to
look with hatred at his brother. As Agnar was the older of the two, he
would inherit the kingdom; so Geirrod was filled with a sudden rage
against the gentle boy who stood in the way of his becoming king.
As the boat drew toward the shore, Geirrod sprang out, and giving the
boat a mighty shove toward the open sea he cried: "Go back to the
island, you weak, timid girl. You are not fit to be king." Then, being
a sturdy swimmer, he made for the land. The boat drifted out again to
sea, and carried Agnar to a strange land, where he lived many years.
Finally he returned to his own country in disguise and became a
servant in his father's palace--but by this time Geirrod had already
been made king. For when Geirrod swam ashore, he hastened at once to
his father and told him the whole story of his adventure with the
fisherman on the island. When the king asked for Agnar, Geirrod said
that his brother had been drowned on the journey home by falling over
the edge of the boat. As there was no reason to doubt this story, the
king mourned for Agnar as one dead; and the younger brother was
acknowledged heir to the throne. Not many years later, the king died
and Geirrod was made ruler over the whole kingdom.
When Odin and Frigga, who had long since left the island and returned
to Asgard, learned what had become of their favourites, Odin was very
proud that Geirrod had become a great king. Frigga grieved, however,
that the gentle Agnar had suffered through his brother's treachery,
and hated to see him serving as a menial in Geirrod's hall. When Odin
praised his former pupil, she would say: "He is a great king, but a
cruel man. No stranger would dare to trust to his mercy."
Now as unkindness to a stranger was a very despicable trait in those
days, this taunt of Frigga's roused Odin's wrath; and he determined to
show her that Geirrod was not the heartless king she declared him to
be. So he disguised himself as an aged traveller, and presented
himself at Geirrod's palace asking for food and shelter. Frigga,
however, was equally determined to prove Geirrod's cruelty, and thus
defend her favourite, Agnar. So she secretly sent a messenger to the
king bidding him beware of a strange old man who would come to the
palace claiming the rights of hospitality.
Odin was much surprised when he met with rough usage at the hands of
Geirrod's servants, not knowing that the king had commanded them to
seize any aged traveller who might come to the palace. He was not
welcomed to the well-filled table as he had expected, but was rudely
dragged before the king. Now Geirrod, believing that this was the
stranger of whom he had been warned to beware, commanded the old man
to tell his name and the object of his visit. The traveller stood with
bowed head, refusing to speak; and this made the king so angry that he
threatened the old man with torture and death if he did not answer.
As the stranger continued to keep silent, Geirrod commanded his
servants to chain him to a pillar in the great hall and build on each
side of him a hot fire whose flames would torture without destroying
him. So they dragged the unresisting old man to the pillar and bound
him with chains too strong for even the stoutest warrior to break.
Then they kindled fires on either side of him and stood off, laughing
and mocking at the trembling figure that seemed to crouch in terror
against the pillar.
For eight days and nights the fires were kept burning, and during all
this time the cruel king allowed no meat or drink to be given to his
prisoner. But one night, when the watchers were drowsy with ale and
the heat of the fires, a servant stole softly into the hall with a
great drinking-horn in his hand. This he carried to the old man, who
appeared to be in great suffering, and he smiled happily when he saw
the prisoner drain the cool drink to the last drop. This servant was
Agnar, the king's brother, whom every one believed to be dead.
The next morning, Geirrod assembled all his nobles in the great hall,
and they began to make merry over the prisoner's misery, asking him if
he would now speak and tell them who he was and from whence he came.
The old man shook his head, refusing to speak; but suddenly, to the
astonishment of all, he began to sing. And as he sang, the listeners
grew strangely silent, while a nameless fear seized the whole company
as they saw no longer the crouching figure by the pillar, but a tall
commanding form before whose awful majesty they shrank back trembling
and afraid. As the singing continued, the power and sweetness of the
music filled the echoing halls; and when the song was over, the chains
fell suddenly from the prisoner's arms and he stood--a terrible
accusing power--before the eyes of the terrified people. Geirrod as
well as his nobles knew now that a god had come among them; and the
king, fearing for his life, tried madly to defend himself. He seized
his sword and rushed blindly at the tall form confronting him,
forgetting--in his terror--that no weapon could prevail against an
immortal. Blinded by his fury, he fell forward upon his own sword, and
in a moment lay dead at Odin's feet.
Then the All-Father called to Agnar and bade him take his rightful
place on the throne which his brother had usurped. The people gladly
welcomed a kindlier ruler; and Odin, having righted the wrongs which
Geirrod's cruelty had created, now returned to Asgard to report to the
anxious Frigga that her favourite was at last made king.
II
There was once a king named Gylfe who was reputed to be the wisest
ruler of his time. He kept many learned men at his court; but he was
eager to gain more knowledge than all these sages could command, and
so sent far and wide for men skilled in magic and those whose eyes
could read the secrets of the stars.
One day an old woman[15] came to Gylfe's palace asking alms, and she
was brought at once into the presence of the king. Gylfe treated her
with great kindness, and while she sat at the king's table eating of
his own rich food, she turned to the monarch saying: "Never has the
stranger met with such kindness as this. What can I give you in
return?" The guests who were feasting began to laugh merrily, but the
king answered, "There is nothing that I wish for except wisdom."
"Then, listen," said the strange old woman, and she began to tell the
king a story of the world as it was when it came fresh from the hands
of the gods. Then she spoke of the frost-giants, the ancient enemies
of the shining ones of Asgard; and as the king listened, he seemed to
see how all things must have looked in that first morning of the
world.
[15] Her name was Gefjun.
When the old woman finished speaking and turned to leave the palace,
Gylfe begged her to accept some gift in return for her wonderful
stories; and the stranger, who was really a giantess, replied: "I will
take as much land as four oxen can plough in a day and a night." Now
the frost-giants had been envying the earth-folk many years, and they
wished to add more land to their country beyond the frozen seas. So
when Gylfe consented to the old woman's strange request, she brought
four immense oxen from Jötunheim, and harnessed them to a huge plough.
Then the giantess cut such a deep furrow into the earth that a great
tract of land was torn away; and this, being carried out to sea by the
oxen, was borne westward to Jötunheim. Thus Gylfe lost a large part of
his kingdom, but he felt that even that was not too great a price to
pay for the knowledge which he had gained.
Having learned from the giantess how wise were all the dwellers in
Asgard, Gylfe determined to seek the gods themselves; though he knew
that in his eager desire for more wisdom he was likely to meet death
at their hands for his presumption. So he set out on the journey to
Asgard; but he would surely have never reached those sacred halls if
Odin had not guided his footsteps and led him to the rainbow bridge
that reached up from Midgard to the city of the gods. Here, at the end
of Bifrost, he met Heimdall, the watchman who stood all day and night
guarding the shining city from the approach of the giants. Whenever a
stranger appeared at the rainbow bridge he sounded his horn[16] to
warn the gods of possible danger. Heimdall never slept; and he not
only saw as well by night as by day, but his eyes had the wonderful
power of seeing a hundred miles all around. He also had such
remarkable ears that he could hear the grass growing, and tell whether
the wind was blowing on the sea.
[16] Heimdall's horn was called the Gialar-horn. At Balder's
funeral, Heimdall rode to the sea on his horse Gulltopp.
Having received a command from Odin to let the stranger pass, Heimdall
allowed the king to enter the sacred city; and Gylfe soon found
himself in the presence of Odin. The Father of the Gods received him
kindly; and, after learning the object of his journey, permitted Gylfe
to seat himself in the great council-hall. Then Odin asked the king
what it was he wished to know, and Gylfe began to question him freely
and fearlessly. He asked about the creation of the world, about the
seasons and the rainfalls, and the changes of the moon. He asked why
the elves kept themselves forever hidden in the earth, and why the
fairies danced only in the moonlight. He spoke, though timidly, of the
dark underworld, and asked why the dead never came back to earth
again. He even questioned Odin concerning the gods themselves; and to
all these eager queries, the All-Father gave a willing answer.
Suddenly the hall grew full of mist and shadows, and Gylfe could
hardly see the foot of Odin's throne. A great noise like some
deafening thunder shook the council-hall, and the king, bewildered and
frightened, did not know where to turn for safety. Then all at once
the darkness and the sounds vanished, and Gylfe found himself on a
broad plain. At first he thought that he had seen the shield-hung hall
and the shining streets of Asgard only in a dream; but soon the words
of Odin came back to him, and he knew that he had indeed talked with
the greatest of the gods.
So Gylfe became the wisest ruler on the earth; but though all men
honoured him for his great wisdom, many refused to believe that he had
really been within the gates of Asgard.
Sif's Golden Hair and the Making of the Hammer
I
Among the gods there was one who was really unfit to be a god and to
live in the shining city of Asgard. He was the cause of much trouble
and mischief in his frequent journeys to the earth, and he brought
evil upon even the gods themselves. But as Loki was the brother of
Odin, he could not very well be banished from Asgard, so the gods
endured his presence as best they could. Loki did many unkind things
that the gods never heard of; but once he met with just punishment for
his meanness. This was the time that he robbed Sif of her golden hair.
[Illustration: Loki]
Sif was the wife of Thor[17] the god of thunder. She had beautiful
long hair that fell over her shoulders like a shower of gold, and of
this she was very proud. One day Sif fell asleep on the steps of
Thor's palace,[18] and while she lay there sleeping Loki came walking
by. There was nothing so dear to Loki as a chance to do mischief,
and he never saw anything beautiful without wishing to spoil it; so
when he found Sif fast asleep, he stole up softly behind her and cut
off all her golden hair.
[17] From Thor's day comes our word Thursday.
[18] The palace was named Bilskirner.
When Sif woke at last and saw what had happened, she began to cry
bitterly, for her golden hair was the pride and joy of Thor, and she
was afraid that he would never want to look at her again now that it
was gone. So she got up from the steps where she was sitting, and went
away to hide in the garden. When Thor came home, he looked for her all
through the palace, and went from room to room calling her name. Not
finding her in the house, he went out into the garden, and after
searching for a long time finally found poor Sif behind a stone,
sobbing bitterly. When he heard her story, he tried to comfort her the
best he could, but Sif continued weeping and covered her shorn head
with her arms.
"I know who did this shameful thing," cried Thor, wrathfully; "it was
that mischief-maker Loki, but this time he shall pay dearly for his
wickedness." And he strode out of the palace with a look so
threatening that even the gods might have trembled before him. Now
Loki was not expecting to be caught so soon, and he had not thought of
seeking a hiding place; so when Thor came suddenly upon him he was too
frightened to try to escape. He even forgot his ready lies, and when
Thor shook him angrily and threatened to kill him for his wicked act,
he made no denial, only begged for mercy and promised to restore to
Sif the hair he had cut off. Thor therefore released him, after
binding him by a solemn oath to fulfil his promise.
The real hair which Loki had cut off he had already lost, so to keep
his word to Thor he must find something else which would resemble it
closely enough to make Sif believe she had indeed her own hair again.
As there was only one place where skilful and cunning work like this
could be done, Loki crossed the rainbow bridge that spans the gulf
between Asgard and the earth, and hurried to the tall mountain which
hides, amid its rocks, the entrance to the lower world. No one but a
god, or one of the swarthy elves themselves, could have found this
hidden opening, but Loki knew it well. He first looked for a tiny
stream which flowed along at the foot of the mountain. This he
followed to its source in a deep cave among the rocks, and when he
came to the spot where it bubbled up from the ground, he raised a huge
log that was lying, apparently by chance, close beside it. This
disclosed a small passage leading down into the very centre of the
earth, and along this path Loki hastened, often stumbling about in the
darkness, until he came to the underworld where lived the swarthy
elves. They were busily engaged in their wonderful workshop, which
was lighted only by the fires from the forge, but when they saw Loki
they laid down their tools and asked him how they could serve him.
"I have a task," answered Loki, "which requires such great skill to
perform that I hardly dare ask you to attempt it. It is nothing less
than for you to make of your gold some locks of hair that will be as
soft and fine and beautiful as the golden hair which adorns the head
of Sif, the wife of Thor. You have heard, no doubt, of its beauty, so
you know how difficult a task I have given you."
The elves, nothing daunted, set at once to work, and selecting a bar
of perfect gold, they pounded it very soft, then spun it into threads
so fine that they looked like sunbeams, and so soft that they felt
like silk. When the work was finished and placed in Loki's hand, it
exceeded in beauty anything he had ever seen, and he felt sure that
Thor could not complain of his gift. Then he thanked the swarthy elves
and hastened with his prize back to Asgard and to the palace of Thor,
where all the gods had assembled to see the fulfilment of Loki's
promise.
In spite of the success of his undertaking, the fear of Thor's hasty
temper kept Loki somewhat humbled, for the Thunderer had been known to
crush the object of his anger with his hammer when once his wrath was
fully roused. His face was now dark and threatening as Loki
approached, and beside him stood Sif, weeping bitterly, and trying to
cover her head with her hands. But Loki came up boldly and placed the
golden hair which the elves had made, upon her head. To the
astonishment of all, it immediately grew fast, and no one could have
told that it was not her own golden hair. So Sif was proud and happy
once again, and Loki was forgiven.
II
When Loki went to the underground home of the elves to find the golden
hair for Sif, he thought that it would be as well to get two other
gifts--one for Odin and one for Freyr--so that their anger would fall
less heavily on him for his cruelty to Thor's beautiful wife. The
dwarfs were always very glad to help Loki when he was in trouble, for
they, too, delighted in mischief-making; so when he asked them for the
two other gifts, they gladly set to work. The spun-gold hair they had
already placed in Loki's hands; and now they hurried about, getting
together a hundred different materials to use in their work--for
things of earth, air, fire and water went into the making of the
wonderful gifts that came from the hands of the elves.
In a short time they handed to the waiting god a spear[19] that would
always hit the mark no matter how badly it was thrown, and a
marvellous boat[20] that would fold up into a tiny package, but could
also expand large enough to hold all the gods and goddesses in Asgard.
Loki was delighted with these gifts and hurried with them back to
Odin's council-hall where the gods had assembled to pass judgment on
him for his cruel treatment of Sif.
[19] The spear was named Gunger.
[20] The boat was named Skidbladner.
Though the hair of spun gold proved to be so perfect that Loki had
nothing to fear from Thor's anger, he saw that Odin was still
displeased and was looking at him with stern brows. So the wily god
produced his two other gifts, and handed the spear to Odin and the
boat to Freyr. Both the gods were delighted with the clever
workmanship of the elves; and all the company were so busy examining
Loki's gifts that they did not notice the dwarf Brock, who had
followed Loki to Asgard and was now standing in the shadow of Odin's
throne.
When the gods grew loud in their approval of the magic spear and boat,
Brock could contain his anger no longer and cried out: "Can you find
nothing better than those petty toys to praise? My brother Sindri can
make far more wonderful things than these." At this boastful
interference Loki grew very angry and said: "Prove it, then; for I
know that your brother is only a stupid workman. Let us make a wager
that you cannot bring here three gifts better than those you scorn;
and whichever of us loses in the contest shall pay for it with his
head." Brock accepted the challenge and set off at once to the cave
where Sindri kept his dwarfs at work night and day.
He told his brother of the wager he had made with Loki, and Sindri
laughed and promised that the god's head should hang that night in the
cave as a trophy. Then he made ready a huge fire, and as he worked
busily over his tools he bade Brock keep the bellows going as hard as
he could so that the flames would leap higher and higher. Then, when
he thought the right moment had come, he threw into the fire a
pigskin; and bidding Brock keep steadily at work on the bellows, he
left the cave.
The dwarf blew hard at the fire, and the forge gleamed so brightly
that the whole cave was lit up, and Brock could see the piles of gold
and silver and glittering gems that lay all around. Then suddenly an
enormous gadfly flew into the room; and, lighting on his hand, stung
him so badly that he roared with pain. Still he did not take his hand
from the bellows, for, with the cunning of his race, he knew that the
gadfly was none other than Loki who had taken this form, hoping to
spoil Sindri's work.
When the master-smith returned, he looked eagerly at the forge and saw
that the fire glowed as brightly as ever. So he muttered a few magic
words over the flames and drew forth a golden boar. This he handed to
his brother, saying that the boar had the power to fly through the
air, and shed light from his golden bristles as he flew. Brock was so
much pleased with this gift that he said nothing about his swollen
hand; and when Sindri asked him to keep his place at the bellows, he
willingly agreed.
The smith then threw a lump of gold into the flames; and bidding Brock
keep the fire at white heat, he again left the cave. Brock began to
work harder than ever at the bellows; and as the fire glowed so that
it seemed like daylight in the room, the gadfly flew at him and stung
him on the neck. He screamed with pain and tried to shake off his
tormentor, but still he kept faithfully at his work and never lifted
his hand a moment from the bellows. When Sindri returned, he found the
fire glowing brightly, and, leaning over it, he pulled out of the
flames a fine gold ring, which every ninth night would drop nine gold
rings as wonderful as itself.
Brock was so delighted with this gift that he almost forgot about his
wounded neck; and obediently kept his place at the bellows. Then
Sindri threw a lump of iron into the fire, and bidding his brother
work steadily at his task--for this was the most important gift of
all--he went out of the cave. Brock grasped the bellows firmly, and
began to work with all his might. Just as the flames were leaping
fiercely and the room seemed lit by a million candles, the gadfly flew
at Brock and stung him between the eyes.
The poor little dwarf was almost frantic from the pain of the wound
and from the blood that poured into his eyes. But though dazed and
blinded so that he could hardly see the fire, he kept doggedly at work
on the bellows, only lifting one hand for a moment to wipe the blood
from his eyes. The fire had been glowing like a furnace, but in that
one instant the flames burned less brightly, and Sindri--who had just
entered the room--began to berate his brother for his carelessness.
Then the smith drew out of the fire a mighty hammer, perfect in every
way except that the handle was too short, owing to Brock's having
lifted his hand a moment from the bellows.
Sindri gave the three gifts to his brother, and bade him hasten to
Asgard, and bring back the head of Loki as payment for the lost wager.
When the dwarf reached Odin's council-hall, the gods had assembled to
decide the contest, for every one was eager to see what gifts Sindri
had sent. Brock handed the ring[21A] to Odin, who praised it highly and
said, "Now, I shall never want for gold." Freyr was delighted with his
gift of the golden boar[21B] and said that it would be much more
entertaining to ride on its back than in Loki's magic boat. Lastly
Brock gave the wonderful hammer Mjölner to Thor, saying, "Here is a
hammer which can crush mountains, can cause lightning and thunder when
it swings through the air, and will always come back to your hand no
matter how far you may throw it." Then the dwarf turned to Odin and
said, "Decide now between Loki and me, O Wise One, and declare whose
gifts are worth most to Asgard."
[21A], [21B] The ring was called Draupner, and the boar
Gullinbursti.
Though the gods were reluctant to condemn one of their number in
favour of a dwarf, there was no disputing the fact that Thor's hammer
was worth more than all of Loki's gifts, for it meant a sure
protection to Asgard from the attacks of the frost-giants. So Odin
declared that Brock had won the wager, and that Loki must pay the
forfeit with his head. Now Loki had no intention of submitting to this
decree, so he first offered the dwarf a huge sum of money as a ransom;
but Brock angrily refused the gold, and insisted that the bargain
should be kept. Then Loki cried out, "Well, you must catch me first,"
and sped off on his magic shoes, which could carry him through the air
and over the water with wonderful swiftness. As Brock knew he could
never catch the fugitive, he grew black with rage, and turned upon
Odin, crying, "Is this the way that the gods keep faith, or shall the
word of Odin stand fast?" Now all the company knew well that a
promise made by even the meanest among them must be held sacred; so
Odin sent Thor after Loki. In his swift chariot, drawn by the
snow-white goats, the Thunderer easily overtook the runaway and
brought him back to Asgard. Then Loki saw that he must save his life
by cunning, and he said to Brock, "You may take my head if you wish,
but you must not touch my neck."
Now as this was obviously impossible, the dwarf knew that he was
outwitted by the crafty Loki, so he went away fuming with rage and
disappointment. But before he left Asgard, he took out of his pocket
an awl and a thong, and sewed Loki's lips together so that, for a
while at least, the tricky god could not do any more boasting.
The Binding of the Fenris Wolf
In the very beginning of time, when the gods first made the world,
there was joy and gladness not only in Asgard but over all the earth;
sin and evil were unknown, and death had not yet come even among men.
So the gods were very happy--all except Loki, who looked on with
jealous eyes at the gladness which he could not share; for he knew no
pleasure save in devising mischief. Not satisfied with grudging others
their happiness, he sought some means to bring about trouble, but
finding himself too powerless to accomplish anything alone, he married
a fierce giantess[22] and had three terrible children--Hel, the
Midgard serpent and the Fenris wolf.
[22] Her name was Angerbode.
These dreadful creatures soon grew very strong and fearful to look
upon; and Loki was not content to keep them in the dark cave in
Jötunheim with their gruesome mother, but allowed them to roam about
the earth. Soon they wearied of the narrow limits of the earth and
found no longer any pleasure in bringing terror and even death to many
lands. So Loki took them up to Asgard and begged the gods to let him
keep them there. For a while all went well, but soon the presence of
Loki's children became a menace to even the gods' safety; and they
grew fearful of Hel's deadly eyes, and the serpent's foaming mouth and
Fenrer's cruel jaws.
So one day Odin rose up from his throne, stern and wrathful, and cast
Hel down into the centre of the earth, to rule over the dark region of
the dead. Then he threw the Midgard serpent into the bottom of the
sea, where he grew larger and larger, until his huge body encircled
the whole earth. But before he could banish Fenrer, Loki came forward
and begged that the wolf might be spared and allowed to remain,
promising the gods that he would see that it did no harm. So Odin
consented, though with doubt and mistrust.
After a while the wolf became very large and fierce, and nothing
seemed to appease his savage hunger. Only Tyr, the sword-god, dared
feed him, and he wandered about Asgard growing daily more hungry, and
more cruel and terrible to see. At length Odin called the gods
together in council and said to them:--
"Fenrer is getting to be more of a menace to our lives every day, and
I no longer trust Loki's promise to guard our safety. We must
therefore find some way to control the wolf, for we cannot kill him
and so stain our shining city with his blood."
Then Thor proposed that they should bind Fenrer with a strong chain
which he himself would make; and to this plan the gods gladly agreed.
So all that night and for many days to come the sound of Thor's hammer
could be heard throughout Asgard as he forged the links of a massive
chain that should bind the Fenris wolf.[23] When it was finished, the
gods assembled before Odin, Thor carrying the heavy chain upon his
shoulders, and Loki coming up cautiously with Fenrer, who stalked
boldly beside him. No force could possibly be used with a creature so
strong and fierce, so the gods sought to gain their end by flattery,
praising the wolf's size and strength, and daring him to match it
against the strength of the chain which Thor had made.
[23] This chain was called Leding.
Now Fenrer knew far better than they how terribly strong he had
become, and therefore he willingly lay down and let them fasten the
chain around his great body, and then secure it to a rock. When this
was done, the gods breathed more freely, for it seemed as if they had
nothing to fear from the wolf any longer; but in a moment Fenrer rose,
stretched his huge limbs and shook himself once. As he did so, the
chain fell to pieces as easily as if it were made of glass. The gods
looked on in wonder and dismay, and the wolf walked off with a low,
threatening growl. Even Odin was silent with fear, for it had been
revealed to him in the runes that in the final overthrow of Asgard,
the Fenris wolf should bear a part.
Thor now came forward and begged permission to try again at making
another chain much larger and stronger than the last. The forging of
this second chain took many days and nights, for Thor tested every
link to see that it was strong and sure.[24] At last it was finished,
and brought on the shoulders of the strongest of the gods to the foot
of Odin's throne. Fenrer was again summoned, but when he saw the
chain, he refused to be bound. No flattery or coaxing could move him,
so the gods began to taunt him, laughing at his boasted strength and
accusing him of cowardice. Apparently with great reluctance, the wolf
again allowed himself to be bound; and when the chain was secured
about his shaggy body and fastened tightly to the ground, the gods
looked on, feeling fearful and yet full of joy, for surely nothing
could be stronger than the massive chain which was wound round and
round the prostrate wolf. But Fenrer rose slowly, stretched himself,
and gave one bound into the air, while the gods drew back in dismay
before the rattling shower of broken links.
[24] This chain was called Drome.
Then Odin saw that no brass or steel or any metal could withstand the
terrible strength of the wolf, and he bade Thor give up all further
attempts to forge a chain, while he had it proclaimed throughout
Asgard that Fenrer was to roam wherever he would. Shortly after this
he sent Loki on a journey far across the seas to a country so distant
from Asgard that he would have to be gone many days. Though usually
alert and suspicious, Loki set off on his errand, not dreaming that
Odin had some purpose in sending him away. As soon as he was gone,
Odin despatched Skirner, Freyr's trusty servant, with all speed to the
home of the swarthy elves, and bade him procure from them an enchanted
chain, such as they alone knew how to make. Skirner set out at once
and found his journey a safer and pleasanter one than he had expected,
for though the home of the dwarfs was underground, the road was easy
to find. Odin had instructed him to look at the base of a certain
mountain for a tiny stream of opal-tinted water. Having come to the
foot of the mountain, Skirner followed the stream to its rocky source,
and the rest of the journey was quickly made.
When he delivered his message to the elves,[25] they set immediately
to work, and for nine days and nights Skirner heard no sound in the
workshop as the little men plied their task. No stroke of hammer or
noise of anvil was necessary in the making of this wonderful chain,
for into its weaving went the strangest things that Skirner had ever
seen,--the down from a butterfly's wing, a handful of moonbeams, the
lace of a spider's web, a humming bird's lance, the breath of the
night wind and many other queer and mysterious things. The work was
all done in perfect silence, and Skirner sat by looking on in wonder
as the magic chain grew into being under the elves' skilful fingers.
At last it was finished, and with the precious gift in his hands,
Skirner hastened back to Asgard.[26]
[25] The home of the elves was in Svartalfheim.
[26] This magic chain was called Gleipnir.
Then Odin called the gods together and summoned Fenrer to come and try
his strength a third time. When the wolf saw the chain which was to
bind him, he became at once suspicious, especially when he found that
Loki was absent. He had no doubt of his power to break brass and
steel, but he scented a possible danger in the soft, fine thread which
lay in Odin's hand. As he had no one here to warn him if the gods
meant mischief, he felt that it was safer to wait until Loki was
present; so he drew away, growling and showing his teeth. At this Thor
cried out,--
"How now, Fenrer, have you used up all your strength in breaking those
heavy chains, and have not enough left to snap this slender thread?"
This taunt made the wolf growl more fiercely than ever, though he
consented a third time to be bound, demanding first, however, that one
of the gods should put his hand in the huge mouth, and leave it there
as a pledge that no magic arts were being used against him. None of
the gods wished to take such a risk, and they all drew back in dismay
except Tyr, the sword-god, who stepped boldly forward and thrust his
hand into the wolf's mouth. Then Fenrer submitted to be bound, and
allowed the gods to wind the slender thread all about him and fasten
the end to a rock. The moment it was secured, the wolf tried as before
to shake himself free, but the more he struggled and strained, the
tighter grew the magic thread, until at last Fenrer lay bound and
helpless and foaming madly with rage. Seeing that he had been tricked,
he closed his teeth savagely upon Tyr's fingers, and bit off his whole
hand. But the sword-god felt repaid for the loss of his hand since the
wolf at last was bound. Thus the gods left him securely chained to the
rock; and there he lay until the final terrible day when it was
decreed that he should break loose again, and help in bringing
destruction upon all the dwellers of Asgard.
How Thor Went Fishing
One day the gods went to a feast given by Æger the sea-god; and they
drank so much ale that before the meal was half over the vessel which
old Æger had filled was drained dry. He was greatly distressed at
finding there was not enough to drink, and he began at once to brew
more of the foaming ale. As his kettle was rather small for so great a
company, he asked Thor to find him a larger one that would better suit
the needs of the gods. To this Thor, who was always ready for any sort
of adventure, replied readily,--
"Tell me where to get the kettle, and I will fetch it, even if it is
from the very heart of Jötunheim."
Now Æger had no idea where to look for such an enormous kettle as he
needed; but just then Tyr spoke up and said:--
"My father Hymer has a kettle that is one mile deep and half a mile
wide. If Thor wishes to risk the giant's anger, he can go with me to
Hymer's castle."
So the two gods set off for their long journey in Thor's swift
goat-chariot; and though they travelled quickly over the frost-bound
country that stretched far away to the north, it was a long time
before they came to the land where Hymer and his kindred lived. Here
they had to cross two half-frozen rivers over which the goats carried
them safely, and then they came to the foot of a great ice-covered
mountain that looked as smooth as glass. Tyr advised that they go the
rest of the way on foot; so, leaving the chariot by some low fir
trees, the two gods proceeded to climb up the slippery side of the
mountain.
Almost at the top they came upon Hymer's castle, and they entered the
spacious hall where a huge fire, made of entire trees, was burning on
the hearth. Near the fire was seated Tyr's grandmother, a hideous old
giantess who did not speak to the two gods as they entered, but only
grinned horridly at them, showing her long, pointed teeth that looked
like a wolf's fangs. Beside her sat a beautiful woman spinning flax
with a golden wheel. This was Tyr's mother, who was as lovely as the
old woman was hideous, and as kind as the hag was cruel. She welcomed
her son affectionately, but warned him that both he and Thor had
better keep hidden until they found out whether Hymer was disposed to
be friendly--for when the giant was angry he was not a pleasant person
to encounter.
Late in the evening Hymer came home, tired and ill-tempered after an
unsuccessful day's fishing. He shook the snow from his clothes and
combed the ice out of his long, white beard. Then he sat down by the
fire, and while he watched the meat turn on the spit, Tyr's mother
said softly: "Our son has come to see you. Shall we welcome him to the
fire?" Before Hymer could answer, the old giantess croaked out, "And
Thor has come with him--the strongest god in Asgard and the enemy of
our race."
Hymer looked very angry as he heard this, and when his old mother
cried, "Look, they are hiding behind the furthest pillar," the giant
stared at the pillar with such a piercing look that it cracked in two.
Then the beam overhead suddenly snapped, and the kettles that were
hanging from it fell with a crash to the floor. There were eight of
these kettles, and among them was the huge one of which Tyr had spoken
to the sea-god. All of the kettles were broken by the fall except the
largest; and as Hymer was stooping to pick this up, Tyr and Thor
walked out from behind the pillar.
The giant was not very well pleased to see Thor, but as the visitor
came in company with his son, he decided to treat him civilly. So he
invited the two gods to come and eat with him, and made a place for
them by the fire. There were three oxen served for supper; and after
Thor had eaten two of them and started on a third, Hymer cried:--
"Ho, there! If you eat all our meat, you will have to catch us some
fish to-morrow." Thor laughed and replied that he was only too glad
of a chance to go fishing. So next morning when the giant set off at
sunrise, Thor went with him to the beach, and watched him get the
lines and the nets ready. "If I am to catch the fish, will you give me
some bait?" he asked, and Hymer replied with a growl, "Go and find
some for yourself."
So Thor went over to the meadow where the giant's cattle were grazing,
and, seizing the largest bull by the neck, he wrung off its head, and
carried this down to the boat. Hymer was very angry at this treatment
of his property, but he said nothing, only bade Thor take the oars.
Then he gave the boat a great shove, and sprang in with such violence
that the whole craft was almost overturned.
Under Thor's quick strokes the boat shot over the water like an arrow,
and the giant looked a bit surprised to see how well his companion
could pull. With every dip of the oars the boat gathered speed, and
they very soon reached Hymer's fishing ground. He then called to Thor
to stop rowing, but the god only shook his head and pulled all the
harder. In a few moments they were out of sight of land, and the boat
was swinging heavily in the trough of the sea. Hymer begged Thor not
to go any farther, but the god laughed and said,--
"There is much better fishing a few miles ahead." Then he bent hard at
the oars, and the boat flew over the waves with incredible swiftness.
Soon Hymer began to be frightened, and called loudly, "If you go much
farther, we shall be over the Midgard serpent."
Now this was just what Thor intended; so he kept on rowing until they
were just over the spot where the huge snake lay coiled at the bottom
of the ocean with his tail in his mouth. Then Thor drew in his oars
and began to bait his line with the bull's head. Hymer had his things
all ready for fishing, and as soon as he dropped his line into the sea
the bait was grabbed with a sudden jerk which nearly toppled the giant
overboard. Regaining his balance, he proudly pulled up out of the
water two whales, and flung them in the boat. Then Thor threw out his
line, and in a moment the whole sea was in an uproar, for the bait had
been seized by the Midgard serpent and the hook was now caught fast in
its great mouth.
When Thor felt the terrible pull on his line, he grasped it with all
his might, and braced himself against the side of the boat. The
serpent was indeed a match for him in strength, and Thor--to prevent
being dragged out into the water--set himself with such force against
the framework of the boat that his feet broke right through, and he
found himself standing on the bottom of the sea. Here he could take
such firm hold that he was able to draw the serpent up to the edge of
the boat. The monster lashed the waves fiercely with its tail, and
churned the water into foam as it writhed about in its efforts to get
free from the torturing hook. Its great head rose above the boat's
side, and in its struggles the beast looked more terrifying than when
its glittering eyes and great coiled body frightened the dwellers in
Asgard.
But Thor was determined not to let the serpent go, so he only pulled
the harder and the sea became a great whirlpool of blood and foam and
tossing waves. Hymer, who had been looking on in amazement at Thor's
strength, now sprang forward and cut the line just as the god was
raising his hammer to crush the monster's head. The Midgard serpent
immediately sank out of sight, and Thor--wrathful at Hymer's
interference--struck the giant such a blow that he tumbled headlong
into the sea. In a moment, however, he had scrambled back into the
boat, and bade Thor take up the oars and row back to land. When they
reached the shore, Hymer slung the two whales over his shoulder, and
carried them up to his castle. Thor, having no fish, picked up the
boat, and brought it along with him.
As soon as they were seated again by the fire, Hymer challenged his
guest to prove his great strength by breaking a certain drinking-cup.
Thor took the cup and threw it against the furthest stone pillar. It
struck with a terrific crash, but--much to Thor's surprise--it fell to
the ground unbroken. Then he hurled it at the massive granite wall,
but it bounded back like a ball, and dropped at his feet. Thor looked
very disconcerted as he stared at the uncracked surface of the cup;
and, as he was about to own himself defeated, he heard a soft voice
say, "Throw it at Hymer's head."
Though he knew that this kindly advice was given by Tyr's mother, he
did not dare to turn and thank her, but he took up the cup and dashed
it at Hymer's forehead. Terrific as the blow was, it did not seem to
harm the giant at all, but the cup was shattered in a thousand pieces.
The giant was very angry at having lost his wager; but he was now so
thoroughly afraid of Thor's great strength and cunning that he made no
objection when Tyr asked for the great kettle to carry back to the
sea-god Æger. "Take it then, if you must," he growled sullenly. Tyr
made the first attempt to lift the kettle, but he could not so much as
raise it from the ground. Thor, however, picked it up with great ease
and set it on his head like a helmet. Then he marched boldly out of
Hymer's castle with Tyr following close behind him.
They had not gone very far down the mountain when Tyr, looking back,
cried out that they were being pursued. And true enough, right at
their heels was Hymer with a great company of giants ready to fall
upon them. Thor did not even lift the kettle from his shoulders, but
he swung Mjölner around his head until the lightning flashed and the
thunder shook the hills. Then he rushed at the giants, hurling the
hammer right and left; and in a short time not one of the pursuers
remained alive. Then Thor and Tyr resumed their journey, and soon came
to the spot where the goat-chariot was waiting. This bore them swiftly
to Æger's palace, and the gods laughed merrily when they saw Thor
enter with the kettle on his head. That night there was such a mighty
brewing of ale that it seemed as if none of the company could ever be
thirsty again.
The Building of the Fortress
Although the gods had felt less fear of the frost-giants since the
mighty Mjölner had been given to Thor, they were often very anxious
when the Thunderer was obliged--as he sometimes was--to go off on a
long journey. Then Asgard was left quite unprotected; for although the
gods were brave and strong fighters, they would be no match for the
frost-giants if their old enemies came against them in great numbers.
So they wished very much for some assurance of safety in Thor's
absence; and the best protection would undoubtedly be a high stone
fortress that would encircle the whole of Asgard. But who was to build
it?
Even if some of the gods were willing to undertake such a long,
difficult task, who among them could spare the time for it, and who
could lift the heavy stones that would be needed for the work? It
seemed therefore as if the hope of having a fortress must be given up,
for even Loki's quick wit could devise nothing; but one morning
Heimdall, who guarded the rainbow bridge, blew a loud blast on his
horn to announce the approach of a stranger. When Odin looked down
from his throne, he saw a huge figure standing beside Heimdall, and
he knew at once that his visitor was one of the frost-giants. He
stepped down from his golden throne, and, crossing the many-coloured
Bifrost, he stood before the stranger.
"What do you seek here in sunny Asgard?" he asked.
"I am a master-builder," replied the giant, "and I have been told that
you needed a clever mason to build you a fortress. Give me the work to
do and you shall have a strong wall about your shining city."
Now Odin knew that no word about the proposed fortress had ever been
breathed outside of Asgard; but he knew also that it was useless to
make any denial, for the frost-giants, with their mysterious wisdom,
had somehow learned the truth. So he said to the stranger: "We _do_
need a fortress. Can you build one strong enough to resist any
attack?"
"That I can," replied the giant, quickly. "And when my work is
finished, I will promise you that all the forces in the universe could
not move one stone from the wall."
"How long will it take you to build the fortress?" asked Odin.
"Just one year--which is a very short allowance of time for so great a
task," answered the giant.
"And what payment do you ask for your work?"
"My wages must be the sun and moon and Freya for my wife," cried the
giant, boldly.
This demand astonished and angered Odin; but, remembering how much he
was in need of such help as the giant could give, he concealed his
wrath under soft words and bade the master-builder come the next day
for his answer.
When Odin called the gods together in the great council-hall and told
them what the frost-giant demanded as payment for his work, a murmur
of disapproval arose. Soon all the company cried out against making so
dreadful a sacrifice; for it would be cruel to deliver the beautiful
Freya to the arms of a giant. It was impossible to lose the maiden who
was the light and joy of Asgard, and it was equally impossible to take
the sun and moon from the heavens and compel the helpless earth to sit
forever in darkness. So the gods decided to tell the giant that they
would not accept his terms. Just then Loki spoke up.
"Let my wit and cunning--which you always condemn--find a way out of
the difficulty. We will agree to the builder's demands, but you may
trust me to see that he does not get a single one of the things he
covets."
The gods were apt to doubt Loki's wisdom, and they always distrusted
his motives; but they knew that his craftiness and trickery often
helped him in his own difficulties, and they were now willing to use
any means that offered a way out of their trouble. So they listened to
Loki's plans, and next day, when the giant came for his answer, Odin
told him that the gods would accept his terms if he would promise to
build the fortress in a single winter. He was also to agree to give up
his claims if the work was not finished by the first day of summer.
The giant was not pleased with these conditions, and he grumbled a
great deal about the short time that was given him. He promised,
however, to undertake the building of the fortress, and agreed to have
it finished by the first day of summer if he could have his horse to
help him in his work. Now Loki was not present when the giant made
this request; but Odin saw no reason why it should not be granted, so
he told the builder to come the next day at sunrise and bring his
horse with him. When Loki saw how the giant was going to be helped in
the work, he was not so certain that his own wit could save the day;
for the helper which the builder brought was an immense horse named
Svadilfare, who could work night and day. This wonderful creature not
only dragged the great blocks of stone for the building, but also set
them in place with his strong fore-legs. The gods looked on in dismay
as they saw how fast the work progressed, and berated Loki for having
induced them to accept the giant's offer.
The long winter wore on, and the fortress grew as if by magic. The
giant worked steadily without taking a moment to rest, and the
wonderful Svadilfare brought pile after pile of huge stones to the
spot where the builder was toiling with might and main. A few days
before the end of the winter the work was all finished except one
large slab that was to form the top of the gateway. The gods were now
so alarmed at the prospect of having to pay the giant his extortionate
wages that they threatened Loki with the direst punishments if he did
not find some way out of the difficulty.
So that night as Svadilfare was wearily dragging to the gateway the
last stone that was to complete the fortress, Loki changed himself
into a pretty little mare; and, trotting up to the great horse,
said--in perfect equine language--"Why must you work so hard when
there are yet three days in which to lay this stone? Come with me for
a romp in the meadows. You can be back again before your master
returns."
Now Svadilfare knew that he ought not to leave his work; but his
master was absent and he was very tired, and there was plenty of time
to lay this last stone. So when the little mare trotted away still
calling to him, he kicked off his harness and galloped delightedly
after her. When the giant came to view the last of the work, one great
stone lay by the unfinished gateway and the horse was nowhere to be
seen. Believing that the gods had purposely hidden him in Asgard, he
demanded the right to search the city; but no print of Svadilfare's
feet were to be seen on the unmarred streets of gold. Then the giant
rushed madly over the earth, and so heavy was his tread that the
dwellers in Midgard awoke at night in terror, fearing that an
earthquake was shaking the ground beneath them. Into the remotest
corners of the earth and even as far as Jötunheim the giant searched
for his missing horse; but he never found the secret grove where Loki
was in hiding with Svadilfare. When the builder at last returned to
Asgard, the first day of summer had dawned, and, by the terms of the
agreement, he had forfeited his wages.
The gods had assembled just inside the fortress; and when the giant
came raging toward them they were glad that Thor had returned from his
long journey and now stood among them with the mighty Mjölner in his
hand. The builder knew that in some way he had been tricked into
losing his wager; so when Odin demanded that he should leave Asgard
and not trouble the gods any further, he flew into a terrible rage and
cried,--
"If this fortress were not so strongly built, I would pull it to
pieces so that you might not mock me." Then he rushed past the
assembled company and into the many-pillared hall of Valhalla, crying:
"Not for nothing does a frost-giant stand within the walls of Asgard.
Your palaces are not built to stand forever, and I will send them
crashing about your heads."
As he spoke, he grasped two of the pillars in his powerful arms, and
it is probable that the beautiful building would have fallen if Thor
had not rushed forward at this moment and struck the giant such a blow
with his hammer that the builder's head was shattered in a thousand
pieces. Then the huge body toppled headlong over the rainbow bridge,
and kept on falling until at last it sank into the fathomless gulf
that borders on the Land of Mists.
Thus the gods obtained their much-needed fortress, and Freya stayed
happily in Asgard. There was now a sure protection against the
invasion of the frost-giants; but over the gateway, one stone was
always lacking, for no one among the gods was strong enough to set it
into place.
How the Hammer Was Lost and Found
The mighty hammer Mjölner was not only a protection to Asgard, but
served to keep the frost-giants from doing harm to the earth. This
whole race hated brightness, and were not content to live themselves
in a land of ice and snow and mist, but tried to make all the world
like their own dreary country. They longed to take the sunlight from
the earth, to kill the flowers and cover every green thing with a
mantle of blighting frost. They would have done all this if they had
not been afraid of Thor's hammer, for whenever they strayed too far
from Jötunheim and tried to nip the leaves and flowers with their icy
fingers, Thor would drive them out of Midgard with his hammer; and the
thunder and lightning would follow hard upon them until they were once
more within the limits of their frozen hills.
One day Thor came back from a long journey, and being very tired he
dropped down on the steps of his palace and fell into a heavy sleep.
When at length he awoke, he found to his horror and dismay that
Mjölner was no longer in his hand or by his side. Some one must have
come while he was sleeping and stolen it away. Thor felt certain that
it was one of the frost-giants, for none of the gods, not even the
mischief-loving Loki, would have dared to commit this theft. But no
one had seen any of the giants lurking about Asgard, and Odin's ravens
had not met with them in their flights to and from the earth. Yet it
must have been some one of their ancient enemies who had stolen
Mjölner, and therefore the hammer must be recovered speedily or the
whole race of giants would soon come to take possession of Asgard now
that its chief means of defence was gone. So Thor went in haste to
Loki and begged him to devise some plan to recover the hammer.
"I will go myself," said Loki, "and see if I can find out who has
stolen Mjölner. Perhaps we can regain it before it is too late, for
the thief may not yet have spread the news of its capture to his
kindred." Thor was ready to welcome any suggestion, so he readily
agreed to this plan, and Loki hurried off to the flower-filled garden
where Freya was wont to walk.[27] He told the goddess of the theft of
Mjölner and begged her to lend him her falcon plumage so that he might
waste no time in his search. Freya gladly gave him her feathery
disguise, and Loki sped northward across the frozen sea until he came
to Jötunheim. He shivered continually under his delicate plumage, for
this ice-bound land with its snow-covered mountains wrapped in the
cold of eternal winter was different indeed from sunny Asgard.
[27] Freya's palace was called Folkvang. She sometimes drove
in a chariot drawn by cats. From her name comes our word
Friday.
He walked for a long time without meeting any one, but at last he
found the giant Thrym seated on the side of a mountain, counting his
flock of sheep. The giant was very ugly, and he was also terribly big
and strong, but Loki felt no fear of him. He perched on a rock beside
Thrym, who looked at him craftily a moment and then said, "Why does
Loki try to deceive those who know more than the gods?"
Seeing that his disguise would now be of little service, Loki assumed
his own form, and drawing nearer to the giant greeted him in turn as a
friend. Thrym did not seem at all surprised at seeing a god in
Jötunheim; but he looked rather uneasily around, and went on counting
his sheep without replying to Loki's greeting. The cunning god then
instantly surmised that here was the thief who had taken Thor's
hammer; so, in threatening tones, he accused the giant of the theft,
and demanded that Mjölner be at once returned. It was a bold stroke,
but it did not deceive Thrym in the least, for he knew that Loki was
making mere empty threats, since Mjölner was no longer in Asgard.
Then Loki made the giant many promises of rich rewards from Odin, and
told him of the good-will which all the gods would have for him if he
returned the hammer to Thor. At this Thrym began to laugh, and he
laughed so loud that the trees upon the mountain shook. Then he tore
up by the roots a huge oak tree and threw it like a straw into the
sea, and turning to Loki said: "You will never find that hammer,
friend Loki, for I have buried it nine fathoms in the earth, and
neither you nor Thor shall ever see it again. Yet, if you really need
the hammer as a protection to your city, there is one condition on
which I return it. You must give me the beautiful Freya for my wife."
This proposal rather staggered Loki, for he knew how impossible such a
thing was. But he said nothing, only bade Thrym good-by and hastened
back to Asgard.
When Loki reported to Odin the result of his journey, the gods held a
council to decide what it was best to do. Of course it was out of the
question to try to induce Freya to become Thrym's wife, and Odin could
not feel justified in demanding such a sacrifice. When the maiden
herself learned of the giant's proposal, she grew so angry at the
insult that the necklace of stars which she wore around her slender
throat broke; and as the shining pieces fell through the air, people
in Midgard exclaimed with delight at the shooting stars.
Since it was impossible to think of yielding Freya to a giant even to
recover Mjölner, the gods tried to form some other plan, and again
they turned to Loki for help, for he alone was clever enough to outwit
the giant.
"There is no way to get the hammer," said Loki, "except by giving
Thrym a bride; and since we cannot send any of the goddesses to the
cold northland, we must find the giant another wife. Let us dress up
Thor like a woman and send him instead."
"Never," roared Thor; "I should be the laughing-stock of every one in
Asgard."
"Nonsense," replied Loki, who rather enjoyed having Thor at his mercy;
"and what if you were? Is that anything compared to seeing the whole
race of frost-giants at the gates of Asgard? If something is not done
very soon, they will be ruling here in our places."
The situation was indeed so critical that at length Thor consented to
the plan, though much against his will. So Loki put on him a rich robe
embroidered with gold, and wound a chain about his neck and put a
beautiful girdle at his waist. Then he threw over Thor's head a long
bridal-veil, while he attired himself as a waiting maid to attend the
bride. The gods harnessed Thor's milk-white goats to the chariot, and
together Thor and Loki set out for the frost-giants' country. It was
very difficult to restrain the pretended bride from thrusting her
sinewy hands from under the veil, and Loki feared that even a
love-lorn giant would not be fooled into believing that those massive
shoulders belonged to a maiden.
When Thrym beheld the bridal party coming, he was filled with joy and
ran to meet them. He wished very much to raise the bride's veil, but
Loki forbade him until after the wedding ceremony.
"The goddess Freya who has come to be your wife is very timid," said
Loki, "and you must not distress her with your attentions, or she may
grow frightened and wish to return to Asgard." So Thrym obeyed Loki's
command, and led the bride to his palace, where his kinsmen were
assembled. There they found the tables spread with meat and wine as if
for a feast. Thrym urged his bride to partake of the fruits and
delicacies which had been brought especially for her, and with some
show of reluctance the supposed woman began to eat. First she devoured
eight large salmon, then twelve roasted birds, and soon followed this
up with eating a whole ox and drinking three barrels of mead.
"Did ever a maiden eat like this one?" thought the giants, and in
their hearts they pitied Thrym for getting such a wife. When they
spoke of the bride's appetite to Loki, he replied, "It is eight days
since Freya has eaten anything, for she was so overjoyed at wedding
Thrym, that she could not touch any food." Thrym was too happy to
notice what the bride ate, and when the feast was over he cried to his
brother, "Bring hither the hammer Mjölner and place it in the bride's
lap; then let us be wedded in the name of Var."
So the hammer was brought and placed in Thor's hand; but the minute
his fingers closed around it he tore the veil from his face, and the
terrified giants beheld, not the mild countenance of Freya, but the
face of the Thunderer himself. It was too late now to escape, and the
giants were so frightened that they could not move, even if they had
known where to flee from the fierce anger that blazed in Thor's eyes.
He had barely swung the hammer twice around his head when thunder and
lightning was mingled with the crash of falling buildings; and those
of the giants who were not killed by the blows of the hammer were
buried beneath the crumbling ruins. Thus did Mjölner return at last to
Asgard.
Iduna's Apples
Though sorrow sometimes came to the people of Asgard and they shared
the burden of grief and trouble that afflicted the human race, yet as
gods they had one privilege which belonged to them alone,--the
blessing of eternal youth. Sickness and old age never came within the
gates of Asgard; and this was because the goddess Iduna had some very
wonderful apples which gave, to those who ate of them, the strength
and beauty of youth.
In appearance they were very much like other apples, of a beautiful
red and gold; but when the gods had eaten of them they knew that such
fruit could not be found anywhere outside of Asgard. For no other
apples except those in Iduna's casket could bestow eternal youth and
the power to defy all sickness and pain.
The goddess herself was very proud of her treasures, and proud, too,
of the confidence which Odin placed in her in making her the guardian
of a thing so priceless. The casket in which she kept the apples had
only a single key, and this Iduna kept fastened to her girdle.
Wherever she went she carried the precious casket with her, and never
let it be for a moment out of her sight. The gods felt no uneasiness
while the apples were in such safe keeping, and there seemed to be no
reason why they should ever lose the beauty and health and youth which
had always been theirs. But one day both Iduna and her golden apples
disappeared from Asgard, and no one knew where they had gone,--no one
but Loki, and he would not tell. This is how it happened.
Odin and Loki and Hœnir once went on a visit to the land of the
frost-giants to find out, if possible, whether they were plotting any
new invasion of Asgard. It was an uncomfortable journey, for the air
was bitterly cold and the ground hard and frozen, so there was no
pleasure in travelling. They even felt rather sorry for the people who
were condemned to live forever in such a cheerless country. They were
hungry, too, and could find nothing to eat; no game to kill, no fish
to catch, not even any wild berries upon the barren hillsides. So Odin
proposed that they return at once to Asgard; but just then Loki saw a
herd of cows grazing near by, and exclaimed:--
"Here is meat in abundance. Let us eat before we set out again on our
journey."
Then he killed the fattest of the cows, and bore it on his shoulder to
the spot where Odin and Hœnir were already building a fire. They cut
the meat and put it upon a spit; and while Loki turned it, the two
others piled logs upon the fire. Now and then they tasted the flesh,
thinking it must be cooked; but each time it was as raw as when they
had first cut it. Then Odin threw on more logs, and the heat became so
intense that the gods could hardly stand near it. Still the meat
remained uncooked. All night long they took turns cooking and tending
the fire; but morning found them hungrier than ever, and with yet no
prospect of a meal. This was too much for even the good-natured Hœnir,
while Loki became so angry that he would have killed the whole herd of
cows and thrown them into the sea out of mere spite. But Odin laughed
and said:--
"Nay, Loki, do not let us vent our anger so foolishly. We will return,
rather, to Asgard, and tell the gods that, in spite of the drink from
Mimir's well, the frost-giants are yet wiser than Odin." For he knew
that it was through some mysterious intervention of their old enemy
that they could not enjoy the much-needed dinner.
Just then there came a loud noise and a whirring of wings overhead,
and, looking up, they saw a large eagle hovering above them.
"Ha, ha," he cried, "so you cannot cook your dinner, I see. The meat
must be tough indeed that will not yield to such a fire. But give me
your promise that you will share the feast with me, and I will pledge
you to get it cooked."
The gods promised very gladly, and the eagle, moving nearer, said,--
"Stand aside and let me blow up the fire."
Suspecting nothing, the gods moved away, and as they did so the eagle
swooped down, and, seizing in his strong claws all the meat that was
on the spit, he began to flap his huge wings and rise slowly into the
air.
When the gods saw that the eagle meant to trick them, they grew very
angry, and Loki, hoping to snatch his prize from the treacherous
giant,--for that was what the thief really was,--grasped one end of
the spit as it rose into the air and tried to drag it downward. But
the eagle's strength was greater than the god's, and he flew higher
and higher, carrying the luckless Loki with him. Up they soared, far
above the heads of the bewildered Hœnir and Odin, who were helpless to
rescue their comrade, and could only stand by and watch him
disappearing from view. Over the frozen sea and the snow-covered
mountains the eagle carried the unhappy Loki, not pausing in his
flight until they reached a huge iceberg. Here he stopped, and dropped
Loki upon the ground, where the bruised and weary god was glad to
rest; for the eagle had dragged him over ice and snow, sharp stones
and frost-bound stubble that stung like so many thorns.
The moment the bird alighted it was no longer an eagle, but the giant
Thiassi, who grinned maliciously and said,--
"How do you like flying, friend Loki?"
Loki was in such a rage that he was tempted to try to hurl the giant
from the iceberg. He knew, however, that this would only shut him off
from a speedy return to his companions, so he restrained his anger and
said:--
"You can indeed rival the gods in swiftness, and I should be glad to
journey farther with you, but Odin demands my return to Asgard. Take
me back to him, therefore, with all speed."
The giant laughed at Loki's assumed boldness, and answered: "The gods
are great indeed, but the frost-giants have no fear of them. Odin may
need you in Asgard, but you shall not return except on one
condition--that you promise to deliver into my power the goddess Iduna
and her golden apples."
For some time Loki did not answer, for he hardly dared to make such a
promise, since the loss of Iduna from Asgard would mean old age and
possible death to the gods. Still, he did not intend to remain any
longer on the iceberg. Knowing well the stubborn persistence of the
whole race of giants, he felt that cajolery and threats were alike
useless, so he said,--
"I will promise."
The giant knew Loki's reputation for cunning, and therefore he
demanded that the god should swear by Odin's spear to keep his
promise. Loki did this, though with great reluctance, and the giant
then assumed his eagle plumage and carried the god swiftly back to the
place where Odin and Hœnir were still standing by the burnt-out fire.
In answer to their questions, Loki told them of his strange journey,
but made no mention of his promise to the giant. Then the three gods
returned to Asgard.
Some time later, Loki went to the palace of Iduna and asked to see her
apples. The goddess willingly brought out her casket, for she never
wearied of looking at the precious fruit; but as she handed Loki the
apples, she said,--
"It is strange indeed for you to care so much for beauty--or is it
that life is aging you more quickly than the others of Asgard, and you
need still another of Iduna's apples?"
"Nay," replied Loki, "it is not for that reason that I desire to see
your beautiful fruit; but because I wish to assure myself that they
are really the best apples in the world."
"Why, where would you find such as these?" asked Iduna in surprise.
"Just beyond the gates of Asgard," answered Loki, "is a wonderful tree
which bears fruit in all respects like these apples you prize so
highly. I think they look even fresher, and as I tasted them I felt
sure that they were finer in flavour than any you have here. It is a
pity you cannot go and see them."
"Is it far from here?" asked the goddess, wistfully.
"No, indeed," replied Loki; "just outside the city gates. It would be
such a delight to you to see them, for they are so fine as they hang
in the sunlight, and so easy to reach, too. Some day I will tell you
more about them, but now I must be away, for Odin has a commission for
me to-day." So saying, he took his departure, and Iduna was left
alone.
For a long time she thought over what Loki had said, and the longing
grew very strong to go and see those apples which he had declared were
even finer than her own. She dared not go away and leave her casket
behind; but there surely could be no harm in taking it with her just a
little way outside the gates of Asgard. Still she was doubtful and
troubled, and wished that her husband, Bragi, were at home, that she
might ask his advice. For a long time she hesitated, but at last her
curiosity grew too strong to be resisted, and with her casket on her
arm she left the palace and hurried outside the city gates.
She looked carefully all about her, but she saw no tree such as Loki
had described. Discouraged and disappointed, she was about to return
home, when she heard a loud noise overhead, and, looking up, saw a
large eagle flying toward her. In a moment he had rushed down upon
her, and before the terrified goddess realized what had happened, he
had caught her up in his strong claws, and was carrying her above the
tree tops. In vain did she scream and struggle, for the eagle soared
higher and higher, carrying her far out of sight of Asgard. He flew
straight as an arrow across the mountains and over the frozen sea till
he came to his home in the dreary northland. Here he took the form of
the terrible giant Thiassi and began to beg the goddess for one of her
apples. Iduna, frightened and trembling, kept the precious key of the
casket clasped tight in her hand, and boldly refused to betray her
trust by giving the giant even a sight of the apples. So Thiassi shut
her up in his ice-walled palace[28] and kept her there many days, not
caring though she grew pale and sick with longing to return to sunny
Asgard.
[28] Called Thrymheim.
Meantime, the gods were greatly troubled at the sudden disappearance
of Iduna; and her husband, Bragi, sought her, sorrowing, over all the
earth. No one had seen her leave Asgard, and none knew where she had
gone or when she would return,--none save Loki, and he very wisely
kept silent. At first the gods did not realize what the loss of Iduna
and her apples meant to them; but as time went on and they felt
weariness and old age creeping over them, they were filled with fear
lest the goddess might never return, and there would be no longer any
way to keep Death without the gates of Asgard. Odin's calm brow now
became clouded, for not even his great wisdom was of any help in
solving the mystery of Iduna's strange disappearance. The ravens,
flying far and wide each day, brought no news of the missing goddess;
and meanwhile Time was leaving its unwelcome marks on the faces of the
gods and goddesses. Frigga's hair began to turn white, and wrinkles
furrowed the fair cheeks of Freya. The mighty Mjölner now trembled in
the unsteady hand of Thor, and the feeble fingers of Bragi could no
longer draw sweet music from his harp; in fact, all the dwellers in
Asgard were growing old, and there was no way for them to renew their
youth.
One day the ravens whispered to Odin that he should question Loki in
regard to Iduna's disappearance, and Loki was summoned to appear
before Odin's throne. When accused of knowing something of the missing
goddess, he at first stoutly denied all knowledge of her; but Odin's
look seemed to search his thoughts, and he saw that lying and deceit
were of no avail. So he told all that he had done, and begged Odin's
forgiveness. He promised to set out at once in search of the stolen
goddess, and swore that he would not return to Asgard until he had
found her and had brought Iduna and her apples safely home again.
Once more he borrowed the falcon plumage of Freya and flew over to the
frozen northland to the place where the giant kept Iduna a prisoner in
his ice palace. He found her sitting alone and weeping bitterly; but
Loki wasted no time in trying to comfort her. She was so overjoyed
when the god assumed his own form and told her why he had come that
she even forgave him for the misery he had led her into by his
treachery. She said that fortunately Thiassi was off on his daily walk
across the hills; but Loki, wishing to take all precautions, again put
on his falcon plumage, and, by his magic arts, changed the goddess
into a nut which he grasped firmly in his talons. Then, being warned
by Iduna that the giant never remained long away, he flew with her
straight toward Asgard.
They had not gone far when Thiassi came home; and when he found Iduna
gone, he knew that some of the gods must have come to her rescue.
Nevertheless he determined not to lose her so easily; and taking the
form of an eagle he flew high up into the air and looked about for
some sign of the fugitive. Far in the distance he saw a moving speck
among the clouds, and he followed quickly in pursuit. As he drew
nearer he saw the falcon and its burden, and he knew that Iduna was
being carried back to Asgard. So he redoubled his speed, and his great
wings brought him rapidly nearer the falcon, whose laboured flight
seemed to make an escape from the enemy impossible.
At Asgard the gods had assembled on the city walls, and they were now
looking anxiously across the earth, fearing that some misfortune had
overtaken Loki. At last they saw the falcon flying toward them, and
they felt sure that this was Loki returning with his precious charge.
But with the joy of this discovery came also a sudden fear as they saw
the eagle following close behind the falcon, and seemingly in hot
pursuit. These fears were confirmed as the birds drew nearer; and then
the gods realized that if they would save Loki and Iduna, something
must be done at once. Nearer and nearer came the falcon; but though
his flight was swift, he could not keep the pace of his pursuer, and
the eagle was steadily gaining on him. By this time the gods had built
a great pile of wood on the city walls and were waiting until the
falcon with his priceless burden had flown across it. The moment Loki
passed, they quickly set fire to the wood; and as the eagle came
rushing blindly on, he flew directly over the flames, which caught his
feathers and drew him down into the fire, burning him to death.
Iduna and her apples were safe at last in Asgard, and to celebrate her
return Odin made a great feast in his palace hall, and the gods ate
again of the golden fruit and became young and beautiful once more.
How Thor's Pride Was Brought Low
PART I
One morning Thor drove hurriedly out of Asgard in his chariot drawn by
the milk-white goats, and set out on a wonderful journey. He did not
tell Odin where he intended to go, for he knew that the All-Wise One
would try to persuade him to give up the foolish expedition. For
Thor's purpose was to travel all through Jötunheim until he met with
the strongest of the giants, and then challenge him to a combat.
So he left Asgard secretly, and, avoiding the rainbow bridge as he
always did when in his heavy-wheeled chariot, he directed his swift
steeds toward Jötunheim. But though he passed through the gates of
Asgard unseen by Odin, he was not quick enough for Loki, who, thinking
that Thor's haste betokened some unusual adventure, put on his magic
shoes and followed the goats' flying feet. He found Thor quite willing
to take him as a companion, and together the two gods hurried
northward. They had hoped to reach Utgard, the great city of the
giants, before night fell; but by the time they gained the shores of
the ever-frozen sea that marks the boundary of Jötunheim, they found
that it was too dark to travel any farther. So they looked about for
some place to pass the night, and just over the hill they saw a small
hut with a friendly light streaming from the window. When they asked
here for food and shelter, the cottager gladly offered them a lodging
for the night, but he confessed, reluctantly, that he had no food to
give them.
"That trouble is soon remedied," cried Thor; and stepping over to
where his goats stood browsing on the scanty grass, he struck them
dead with one blow of his hammer. Then to the great surprise of the
peasant and his family, he skinned the goats and spread their hides
carefully upon the ground. After this was done, he offered their
bodies to his host, saying: "Here is meat enough to furnish us with a
bountiful dinner. I must beg of you, however, not to break a single
one of the animals' bones, but throw them all on the goatskins."
The peasant and his wife carefully obeyed Thor's instructions, but the
son, Thialfi, was so eager to get at the marrow in his bone that he
broke it. This greedy act was not seen, however, so the boy hoped that
no harm would come from his disobedience. The next morning when the
gods made ready to resume their journey, Thor struck the goatskins
with his hammer, and immediately the bones leaped into place. In a
moment the two animals stood alive and whole before the eyes of the
astonished cottagers; but one of the goats limped badly. When Thor
noticed this he knew that his commands had been disobeyed, and he
questioned the peasants angrily. He looked so terrible in his wrath
that poor Thialfi did not dare to confess that he had broken the bone;
and it was only when Thor threatened to kill the whole family if the
guilt were not acknowledged, that the boy, terrified and trembling,
admitted his deed.
As he seemed so truly sorry for what he had done, Thor relented and
offered to take the lad with him as his servant. So, leaving the goats
and the chariot in care of the peasant, the two gods resumed their
journey. It was impossible to go very fast on foot, as the ground was
frozen hard and covered with sharp bits of ice that cut through the
travellers' light sandals. The difficulty in crossing the river was
increased by the strong wind which blew from the high, bleak hills of
Jötunheim, and seemed to lay an icy hand upon them.
So it was well on into the night before Thor and Loki reached a
desolate stretch of moorland with mountains standing like grim
sentinels all around it. This was the very heart of the frost-giants'
country. There was no protection here that promised a night's rest,
so the travellers kept on till they came to a strange building which,
in the darkness, seemed to be a five-doored house, opening into a
large courtyard. Here the gods built a fire to cook their evening
meal, and then went gladly to bed, each of them taking one of the
long, narrow rooms.
They had just fallen asleep when a great noise like the roaring of an
angry sea filled their ears, and this was accompanied by a sort of
trembling in the ground beneath them. Thinking it was a sudden
earthquake, they waited for it to subside; but the rumbling only
increased, and the strange noise grew almost deafening. This continued
for hours, so that the travellers gave up all hope of sleeping, and at
sunrise they set off again on their journey, after eating a hasty and
sullen meal.
Their road now lay through the thick woods, and here they were soon
halted by the sight of a giant stretched full length upon the ground.
He was so big that even Thor and Loki, accustomed as they were to the
size of the frost-giants, stared at him in surprise. As for Thialfi,
he dropped the bag of provisions he was carrying, and hid behind a
tree. The mystery of the strange noise was now solved, for the gods
saw that it was merely the giant's snoring. The trees around him shook
with his tremendous breathing, and the hills reëchoed to the deafening
roar.
The sight of the giant sleeping so peacefully aroused Thor's anger,
and he determined not to be disturbed any longer by the prodigious
snoring. So he raised his hammer to strike a well-aimed blow at the
sleeper; but just then the giant awoke. He sat up, and, smiling
good-naturedly at the travellers, said, "What brings the mighty Thor
and cunning Loki so far from Asgard?"
As it would be useless to try and deceive any one as wise as a
frost-giant, Thor replied: "I have come to Jötunheim to measure my
strength against the mightiest of your people. Will you show us the
way to the city of Utgard?"
"That I will do very gladly," cried the giant, getting up from the
ground and stretching his huge body until it seemed as if his hands
would touch the clouds. He then picked up a large sack that was lying
near by, and throwing it over his shoulders, bade Thor and Loki follow
him. Before they had gone far, he stopped, saying, "I have forgotten
my glove; it must be somewhere in the forest." As he refused to
proceed any further until it was found, the gods and Thialfi helped
him in his search. Suddenly the giant reached over the tops of the
trees, and picking up the very house in which the travellers had spent
the night, exclaimed, "Here is my glove! I must have dropped it just
before I went to sleep."
Putting the glove into his capacious pocket, and throwing his bag of
provisions again upon his back, the giant started off across the
hills. The gods had great difficulty in keeping within sight of him;
and Thialfi, who was a swift runner, could barely hold to the pace the
giant set as he covered mile after mile with each of his great
strides.
At nightfall they were still far from the city of Utgard, so the giant
proposed that they should eat their evening meal, and then sleep under
the trees. The dinner was soon disposed of, and after the giant had
eaten two roasted sheep and drunk a keg of ale, he stretched himself
full length upon the ground. In a moment he was fast asleep and
snoring louder than ever before.
The two gods knew that it was no use for them to think of sleeping, so
Thor, having nothing better to do, laid hold of the giant's sack and
tried to unfasten the string with which it seemed so loosely tied. But
the more he pulled at it, the tighter drew the cord, and Thor
despaired of seeing what was inside the sack unless he ripped it open.
This failure made him very angry, and his anger was further increased
by the giant's continued snoring. When the gods wished to speak to
each other, they could barely hear their voices above the thunder of
the giant's snores.
At last Thor could restrain his wrath no longer; and, raising Mjölner
high above his head, he dealt the sleeping figure a terrific blow. The
giant opened his eyes, and looked slowly around him. "Did a leaf fall
on my head?" he asked. "I thought that I felt something touch me."
Then he went off to sleep again, and began to snore so heavily that
the gods felt the ground shaking beneath them.
Thor was surprised at the ill-success of his blow, and he grew angrier
than ever at the sight of the giant peacefully sleeping. Then he
looked at the sack with its seemingly simple cord which he could not
untie, and his wrath blazed out afresh. He rushed at the giant like a
charging bull, and the blow which he dealt him made such a noise that
for a moment it drowned the thunderous snoring. The giant roused
himself with a shake and called, "Is any one throwing acorns at me, or
did a twig fall on my head?"
On receiving no answer to his question, he sat up, and looking around
at Thor he smiled pleasantly and said: "Why are you not sleeping, my
friends? If you do not rest, you will be too tired for your journey
to-morrow. But perhaps you are still hungry; so take what you wish
from my sack. There is plenty for us all." He tossed his bag of
provisions nearer to the gods--then lay down again and went to sleep.
Thor was so furious by this time that he could barely wait until the
giant was asleep before he grasped Mjölner in both hands and hurled it
at the giant's head. Thialfi, seeing the god beside himself with rage,
shrank back in fear before the terrible wrath that blazed in the
Thunderer's eyes; and he hid his face in his hands when he heard the
crash that shook the forest when Mjölner sank almost up to the handle
in the giant's forehead.
The sleeper stirred uneasily, then sat up, looking first at the
travellers, then up at the trees. "Are there any birds about here?" he
asked. "I thought I felt one pecking at my forehead." Then he sprang
to his feet, and, taking up his sack of provisions, he opened the bag
very easily and took out half an ox. "It is almost daylight, and we
must have an early start if we wish to reach Utgard by midday," he
continued, smiling pleasantly at his companions, and offering them the
contents of his sack.
Thor was so angry that he could not eat, but Loki and Thialfi made a
good breakfast, and as they ate, the giant told them what they might
expect when they reached the city of Utgard. "You may think that I am
a fairly big fellow," he said, "but when you see those who live at the
court of the king, you will consider me but a puny thing to be called
a giant. If Thor wishes to find a worthy opponent, he will meet his
equal among Utgard-Loke's men."
When the giant finished eating, he shouldered his sack, and laid on
top of it the bag of provisions that the two gods had brought, hoping
thus to lighten their travelling. Then he struck off on a rough path
across the hills, with Thor and Loki hurrying after him, and Thialfi
running at his heels. Soon they came within sight of Utgard, and when
they reached the city gates, the giant said: "I must leave you now,
for my way lies in another direction. I think you will find a kindly
welcome at the court of our king, and you need have no fear of coming
to any harm, for the frost-giants respect the rights of a guest even
if it is their ancient enemy. But I advise Thor not to boast too
loudly of his strength until he is sure that his pride will not be
humbled."
This last remark made Thor very angry, and his fingers closed tightly
upon Mjölner; but he wisely kept his temper. He paid no heed to the
friendly words of caution which the giant added as he said good-by,
but strode on ahead through the great gates that guarded the city of
Utgard.
How Thor's Pride Was Brought Low
PART II
The way to the palace was quickly found, and here the two gods were
welcomed by the king. Utgard-Loke sat upon a lordly throne, surrounded
by a company of giants so much larger than the others of this race
which had from time to time made threatening visits to Asgard that
Thor felt glad of the possession of Mjölner. When the travellers
entered his halls, the king greeted them kindly and asked the object
of their journey. Thor told him boldly that he had come to measure his
strength against that of the giants, and Utgard-Loke courteously
replied: "We have heard many tales of the might of Thor, the defender
of Asgard; but we hope to show him that the frost-giants are no
unworthy opponents. Before we begin our tests of strength, however, I
will ask one of our youths to meet your servant in some game of skill.
Do you choose what it shall be."
Now Thor knew that Thialfi was a very swift runner, so he answered
that his servant would run a race with any one of the king's young
men. Utgard-Loke then called to a tall, slender youth named Hugi, and
bade him make ready for the race. The company adjourned to an open
meadow, and here the runners met to test their skill. Thialfi shot
over the ground like an arrow sent by the practised bowman; but Hugi
quickly outdistanced him and came first to the goal.
The gods were surprised and angry at the ease with which Hugi gained
the victory; but when the king asked to have a second race, Thor
eagerly agreed, and again Thialfi ran his swiftest. But although he
flew with the lightness and speed of a race-horse, he found Hugi
waiting for him at the end of the course.
Then Utgard-Loke said, "You are a good runner, Thialfi, but you need
to put more speed in your feet before you can rival Hugi." Now Thor's
servant was almost breathless from his running, and he was also very
tired; but the king's tone seemed so insulting that he insisted upon a
third trial. Again the two contestants ran over the course, but this
time Hugi gave Thialfi the start of half a mile. In spite of this
advantage, however, the young giant passed his competitor like the
rush of the wind, and Thialfi lost the race a third time.
As the company had had enough of racing, they returned to the palace;
and Thor, feeling angry and ashamed at his servant's defeat, began to
wish he had never come to Jötunheim. Then Utgard-Loke asked his guests
if either of them cared to challenge one of his men at an eating
contest, and Loki eagerly accepted this chance to prove his ability.
"I can eat more than any two of this company," he cried boastfully,
and gave a loud laugh of scorn when an immense trough full of meat was
brought into the room and placed before him. Then the king summoned
Logi to contend with the brother of Odin, and he and Loki sat one at
each end of the trough.
There was surely never such eating seen before in all the world. Loki
devoured the food so fast that it seemed as if he would finish all
that was set before him in less than a minute; but when he came to the
middle of the great dish, he found that Logi had not only eaten his
own share, but had finished up the meat and bones and trough all
together.
"Now let us see what the mightiest of the gods can do," said the king,
as Loki withdrew to the furthest end of the hall. Thor had been
looking on gloomily at Loki's failure; but the king's tone roused up
all his anger, and he stepped boldly forward, saying, "I will
undertake to empty in one draught any drinking horn that you can place
before me." So Utgard-Loke commanded his men to bring out a great
drinking horn, and as he handed it to Thor the king said: "Here is a
cup which the youngest among us can empty in three draughts. A strong
man needs to quaff it twice, but a mighty warrior such as you should
finish it all at one drinking." The king's tone was so insulting that
Thor felt his fingers tighten on the handle of his hammer, and he
longed to hurl it at Utgard-Loke's head; but he took the horn and set
it to his lips.
He drank long and deeply until he felt sure that he had drained every
drop of the liquid; but when he looked into the horn, he saw that it
was but half emptied. "What is the trouble, is the drink too large for
the Mighty One of Asgard?" asked Utgard-Loke, contemptuously. At these
words Thor flew into a great rage, and, grasping the horn more
tightly, he drank as he had never drunk before. Then he set the vessel
down, feeling sure that it must now be empty; but he found to his
surprise that it was hardly less full than before he began to drink. A
loud laugh of derision greeted him, and the king cried scornfully: "Is
this the great skill in drinking of which you boasted so freely? The
emptying of this horn should be but child's play; but perhaps the
mighty Thor is weary."
"Give me the horn," roared the angry god, who was raging inwardly at
having to endure these taunts. So a third time Thor drank; and when he
stopped to take breath, he threw the horn aside, not waiting to look
down into it, for he felt certain that there could not be a drop left
in it. But one of the giants caught it up and showed him how much of
the liquid still remained. Enraged at this unexpected humiliation,
Thor refused to drink any longer, and would barely listen when
Utgard-Loke asked him if he would engage in any trial of strength. "We
will propose a game which is a favourite pastime among our children,
so the defender of Asgard will be able to do the thing with ease. It
is merely to lift my cat from the ground."
These words so infuriated Thor that he strode angrily out of the hall,
but before he had gone far, he encountered a huge bunch of bristling
fur that effectively barred his way. His first impulse was to strike
the cat with his hammer, but remembering Utgard-Loke's insulting
words, he grasped the great creature by the middle, intending to throw
it aside. But though he tried with all the strength of his powerful
arm to move the cat, he could not stir it from its place; and the
higher he sought to lift it, the higher it arched its back without
ever raising one foot from the ground. Thor's arm was now lifted as
high as it would go, but he could not budge the great cat an inch. So
at last he let go his hold and turned to meet the scornful laughter of
the whole company of giants.
"Is this the strength we have been taught to fear?" cried Utgard-Loke.
"Surely the gods do not call so puny a fellow as this the defender of
Asgard. Perhaps Thor is only mocking us, however, and will prove his
boasted strength in some worthier contest."
"Give me a chance to wrestle with the strongest giant among you, and I
will soon show you whether my strength can be scorned!" cried Thor,
who was longing to hurl his hammer at the king's head and make him
cease his insulting words.
"Your boasting has all been idle," said Utgard-Loke, looking sternly
at the angry god, "so I will not match you against our strongest men.
But here comes my old nurse, Ellie, and you may try a wrestle with
her."
Thor looked around as a shrivelled old woman, bent and toothless,
hobbled feebly into the hall. Her sightless eyes seemed to blink with
an almost supernatural intelligence as she made her way straight
toward the spot where the god was standing. "Do not scorn to wrestle
with old Ellie," cried the king, "for she has got the better of many a
strong man before now."
So Thor grasped the hag firmly and tried to throw her to the ground,
but she gripped his body with her thin arms and clung to him with such
amazing strength that he had to exert all his force to keep from being
strangled. The more he struggled, the tighter grew the old woman's
hold, and even his arm which held the hammer was rendered useless by
her vise-like grip. He felt himself slowly weakening, and soon one
knee was on the ground. Then the hag loosed her hold, and, with a
mocking laugh, hobbled out of the hall.
Thor rose up, ashamed and humiliated by this last defeat; but the
anger had died out of his eyes, and he stood before Utgard-Loke with
bent head. No one had ever seen the strongest of the gods so humbled.
Then the king smiled upon him kindly and said, "Let us forget both our
pride and our foolish boasting, and share the feast as friends; for we
will now offer you the best of food and drink that there is in the
land of Jötunheim." So a bountiful meal was spread before them; and,
in the friendly hospitality of the king, Thor forgot the insults which
he had lately received at Utgard-Loke's hands.
The next morning the king accompanied his guests to the gates of the
city; and when they were well outside the walls he said to Thor: "Now
that you are no longer within our gates, I will confess to you that
during your brief stay among us, we have been not only amazed but
terrified at seeing how great indeed is your strength. We know now
that all our combined forces would have been powerless against you
unless we had deceived you by our magic arts. For it was not superior
skill or strength that defeated you in the contests, but enchantment.
It was I whom you met in the forest,[29] and when I found how terrible
was Thor's strength, I knew that it was rash to admit such a foe
within our gates unless he could be deceived by magic, and his
strength be met by cunning. I tied the sack with a cord that no one
but myself could possibly undo, for every knot was made under a magic
spell. Each time Thor struck me those terrific blows, I quickly slid a
mountain between myself and the hammer; and you may now see the deep
clefts which those blows have made. When Thialfi ran with Hugi, it was
against Thought that he was racing; and when Loki strove with Logi,
his opponent was none other than Fire, who consumes whatever he
touches. Thor took such deep draughts from the horn that we were all
amazed at his wonderful drinking; but the other end of the horn was in
the sea, so try as he would he could never drain it dry. You will
notice, however, as you look over the earth, that the level of the
ocean has fallen far beyond its lowest ebb-line, owing to Thor's
enormous drinking. The cat which could not be raised from the ground
was really the Midgard serpent, and we giants trembled, indeed, when
we saw how high Thor lifted it. Lastly the old nurse, Ellie, whose
strength seemed so marvellous to you, was not a woman, but Old Age
itself; and in her hold even the greatest warrior is bound to weaken
and fall."
[29] Utgard-Loke had told Thor that his name was Skrymer.
When Thor heard these words of Utgard-Loke's, he was so furious at
the trickery that had been put upon him that he rushed at the speaker
with upraised hammer. But before the blow could fall, the giant had
disappeared; and when Thor looked about him he no longer saw the gates
of Utgard nor any sight of the great city. He and Loki were standing
on one of the bleak moorlands over which the winds of Jötunheim blew
forever night and day.
The Wooing of Gerd
The god Freyr was busy enough in the summertime when the sun shone
upon the earth and everything bloomed and blossomed under his untiring
care; but when winter came there was no work for him to do in orchards
or meadows, and he grew restless from the long enforced idleness. So
one day when Odin was away on some necessary journey, Freyr strolled
idly through the golden streets of Asgard, and wished that he might
sometime be taken as a companion when Odin went wandering among the
dwellings of men. He wondered whether there was any spot in Asgard
from which he could look down and see what was going on in the earth,
and the longing grew very strong to see where Odin had gone.
There was one place which commanded a view of all the world, but Freyr
did not dare to think of usurping it, for Odin's throne was held so
sacred that no other god had ever ventured to set foot there.
Dismissing this thought from his mind, Freyr wandered restlessly about
from one marble hall to another, but getting nearer each moment to the
great gold throne, until at last he stood directly before it. A long
time he hesitated, thinking of the punishment that might fall upon him
if Odin suddenly returned; but finally the desire to see all the
kingdoms of the earth grew too strong to be resisted, and Freyr boldly
stepped into Odin's sacred seat.
He gave a gasp of wonder and delight as his eyes travelled quickly
over the wonderful panorama of earth and sky that lay spread out
before him. Far away to the north stretched ice-encircled Jötunheim,
whose snow-capped mountains reached up into the clouds. Still farther
away lay the Land of Mists with its chill fogs, reaching out toward
Muspelheim. The earth itself, which Freyr knew so well, looked
wonderfully fresh and new when seen from this exalted place; and he
felt that he himself would never weary of watching over the affairs of
men, if only he could occupy Odin's seat.
He did not care to rest his gaze very long on frozen Jötunheim, for
there was nothing in that dreary country to attract the beauty-loving
Freyr; but as he chanced to look at a tall old castle standing on the
top of one of the wind-swept hills, he saw the door suddenly open.
Then a maiden appeared on the threshold, and Freyr gazed upon her with
surprise and delight, for she seemed too beautiful to belong to the
grim race of giants.
She stood a moment in the doorway, a very embodiment of warmth and
youth and light; and when the doors at length closed behind her,
Freyr felt that all the brightness had gone out of the world. Never
before had he seen any maiden whom he wished to make his wife; but
here in the land of the frost-giants he had found one whose loveliness
already made him thrill at the mere thought of her.
He descended slowly and sadly from Odin's throne, and began to wander
aimlessly about Asgard, more restless and unhappy than before he had
taken that unfortunate glance toward Jötunheim. For many days he
roamed through the marble-pillared halls, seeking some distraction to
make him forget the golden-haired maiden whom he loved; but always his
thoughts turned toward the castle on the wind-swept hill, and he
longed--till he grew sick with longing--for a sight of the giant's
daughter.
One day his trusted servant Skirner asked him why he looked so sad; so
Freyr told him of his longing for the golden-haired maiden, and of how
he had watched her from Odin's throne. Then Skirner offered to make
the journey into Jötunheim at once, and do his best to woo the giant's
daughter for his master. So Freyr gave him his swiftest horse, and
filled his hands with rich gifts, and finally girded upon Skirner his
own sword, which he promised to give to the wearer if the mission
should be successful. Then he bade Skirner ride with all speed
northward.
As fast as the faithful horse could carry him, Skirner hurried toward
the giants' country; and when the setting sun threw the long, black
shadows of the hills across the snow-covered ground, he crossed the
last of the fiords that lay at the edge of Jötunheim. Then a short,
hard gallop over the frozen ground brought him to the foot of the
castle where the giant Gymer lived with his beautiful daughter. As he
neared the gates, two enormous dogs sprang at him, barking furiously;
and it was with difficulty that Skirner guided his horse well out of
their reach. Not far away was a shepherd leading his flock to the
scanty pasturage; and Skirner, riding slowly up to him, asked how he
might be able to enter the castle.
"What do you seek here?" inquired the shepherd. "No stranger ever
comes to Gymer's hall."
"I wish to speak with the giant's daughter," replied Skirner.
The shepherd shook his head. "It is safer to have speech with Gymer
than with the beautiful Gerd," he said. Then, looking kindly at the
horse and rider, he added, "If you are wise, you will not go too near
the castle gates, but call aloud her name, and perchance she may come
to answer you."
So Skirner called loudly to the maiden until the hills reëchoed to the
name of Gerd; and the giant's daughter listened to the cry, wondering
who the stranger might be that would dare to use her name thus
boldly.
Angry, and yet curious to see who stood without the castle, Gerd threw
open the great hall doors; and at the sight of her the two fierce dogs
stopped howling and lay quiet at her feet. Then Skirner came boldly to
the maiden's side and begged her to listen to his story. As the laws
of hospitality prevailed even in Jötunheim, the beautiful Gerd bade
him enter; and when they were seated by a great fire in the hall,
Skirner told the maiden how Freyr had seen her from Odin's seat and
had loved her with a passion that would surely kill the once-joyous
god unless she consented to become his wife.
Gerd listened coldly to the speaker's words, and his impassioned
pleading left her unmoved. When Skirner finally spoke of taking her at
once with him to Asgard, she cried angrily, "Go back to your master
and tell him that though he should die for love of me, Gymer's
daughter will never wed with one who is the enemy of her race."
Then Skirner brought out a wonderful ring and many costly gems--the
gift of Freyr--and offered them to Gerd; but she haughtily refused to
touch them.
"You cannot tempt the daughter of Gymer with gold," she said. "I have
plenty here in my father's palace."
Failing in this, Skirner drew his sword--the coveted blade which he
hoped to win for himself by the success of his mission--and flashing
this before the maiden's eyes he swore by the spear of Odin that he
would kill her if she would not consent to wed with Freyr. But Gerd
only laughed at his threats, and looked unmoved at the glistening
steel.
"Keep your sword to terrify mortal maidens, or those who sit spinning
in the halls of Asgard. The daughter of Gymer knows no such thing as
fear," she said.
As neither gold nor threats could move the beautiful Gerd to listen to
his master's suit, Skirner tried his last resource; and, calling upon
all the powers of earth and air and water, he pronounced a terrible
curse upon the maiden for her coldness to the unhappy Freyr. "May the
sun never shine without bringing pestilence upon your land, and may
each day add some trouble to those which already burden you. May
sickness throw its blight upon you, and loathsome diseases render your
beauty hideous. May old age lay its hand on you before youth is over,
and may you sit lonely and desolate among your barren hills. May all
the good things of life turn to gnawing pains until you are glad to
pray for death. So shall there be no peace for you in all the world
for having spurned the love of Freyr."
At first the maiden paid no heed to these fearful words; but soon
they seemed to weave a sort of magic spell about her. She trembled,
and her beautiful face grew pale with fear. Suddenly she stretched out
both white arms to Skirner, crying, "Does Freyr indeed love me so
deeply that he can invoke all the powers of the earth to curse me for
not wedding him?" Then Skirner told her how great his master was, and
how truly the curse would be fulfilled if she hardened her heart
against the love of Freyr. And as she listened to the speaker's eager
words of praise, the heart of Gerd was touched and she gave Skirner
her promise to become Freyr's wife.
"Though," she added sadly, "it is strange indeed for Gymer's daughter
to wed with a god." Skirner tried to persuade her to return with him
at once to Asgard, but she said, "Go back to your master and tell him
that I will meet him nine days hence in the groves of Bar-isle."
So Skirner mounted his horse again and rode away from Jötunheim.
Though the journey back to Asgard was as long and hard as his coming
had been, it seemed to him to be far less wearisome; for the horse
shared his rider's gladness and galloped more lightly over the frozen
ground, and the woods looked no longer as if peopled with dreadful
shapes and shadows. When Skirner neared Asgard he saw far in the
distance Freyr standing by the rainbow bridge eagerly watching for his
messenger's return. The impatient god did not wait, however, until
horse and rider came close enough for him to see the gladness on
Skirner's face; but, believing that his servant had been unsuccessful,
since he rode alone, Freyr turned sadly away. He did not even wish to
speak with the man who had done him so great a service; but thought
only of the loss of Gerd.
Then Skirner spurred his faithful horse till its hoofs struck fire
from the hard stones beneath; and when the gates of Asgard were
reached, he rushed eagerly in search of Freyr to tell him of Gerd's
promise. The god's face was lit with a great joy as he heard that his
love was to be rewarded, and that Gymer's beautiful daughter was
willing to become his wife.
The nine days of waiting seemed very long to the impatient lover; but
at last the time came when the sun shone as it had never shone before,
the trees blossomed--although it was still winter--and flowers bloomed
along the path that led to the groves of Bar-isle. Then Freyr, full of
the glad spirit of youth and love and springtime, went gayly to the
trysting place; and there beneath the newly leafing trees stood Gerd,
more beautiful by far than when he had seen her standing in her
father's halls.
How Thor Fought the Giant Hrungner
One day Odin took a long journey into a land far beyond the seas; and
as his road homeward lay through Jötunheim, he went with all speed
across that dreary country. With the swiftness of the wind his
wonderful horse Sleipnir carried him over the ice and snow that lay
thick on the frozen ground; and sometimes, when the mountains loomed
very tall in front of them, the horse rose into the air, soaring
through mist and cloud as easily as some great bird.
Then as the golden hoofs of Sleipnir struck fire from the hard rocks
that seemed to spring up everywhere beneath his feet, Odin rejoiced in
the strength and beauty of his horse, for he knew that there was not
its like in all the world. He had almost crossed the last stretch of
treeless country on the edge of Jötunheim, when he saw a giant seated
on a rock, with his horse standing idly beside him. As Sleipnir came
rushing by, the giant called out: "Ho! stranger. Why do you ride so
swiftly?"
Odin drew rein and came back to the rock where the speaker sat. The
giant looked critically at Sleipnir's splendid head and arching neck;
then he said, "That is a fine horse you have."
"There is no steed that can equal him in beauty or in swiftness,"
replied Odin, proudly. The giant scowled at these boastful words, and
replied angrily:
"Not so fast, my friend. It is easier to talk than to prove the truth
of one's words. Now my horse Goldfax is fully as fine as yours; and
there is nothing to match him for speed in the whole land of
Jötunheim."
"Jötunheim!" cried Odin, contemptuously. "What could you expect from
such a country as this? Why, my steed was reared in the sunny meadows
of Asgard, where he still pastures night and day."
"Well, whatever he is, there is no need for us to waste words in
boasting," said the giant. "Let us run a race and prove whose horse is
the better."
Odin gladly agreed to this; and when the giant mounted his horse
Goldfax, the two riders set off on a gallop that made the hills reëcho
to the sound of clattering hoofs. Sleipnir, overjoyed at the prospect
of a race with something worth his mettle, threw back his head and
sped like an arrow toward Asgard. The giant followed close behind, and
so full was he of the excitement of the chase that he was unaware of
being carried within his enemy's gates. Heimdall, who stood watching
by the rainbow bridge, looked on in surprise as the Ruler of Asgard
rushed swiftly by; and he would have sounded the usual alarm at the
sight of the giant following, if Odin had not signalled to him to let
the strange horse and rider go past.
When the giant, whose name was Hrungner, found himself surrounded by
so many of those who were his sworn enemies, he grew fearful and began
to look helplessly about him. Soon he realized, however, that the laws
of hospitality assured every kindness to a guest, and he knew that he
was as safe in Asgard as he would be in Jötunheim. So when Odin
summoned him to the feast at Valhalla, Hrungner sat down to eat and
drink with the gods, feeling at heart very proud to be in the midst of
so noble a company.
As the feast progressed, and the giant drained one horn after another
of the sparkling drink the gods supplied, he began to grow boastful.
He laughed at the smallness of Odin's shield-hung hall, and told of
the great palaces that were built by the frost-giants. He boasted
loudly of his own great strength; and as he drank more and more of the
wine so freely poured, he cried: "What a puny lot of men you are to
call yourselves gods! There is not a giant in Jötunheim who could not
beat any one of you in single combat. If I chose to make so unfair a
return for your hospitality, I could pull this poor little hall about
your ears, and not leave one stone upon another in the whole of
Asgard."
The gods grew very angry at these insulting words; but as Hrungner was
their guest, they could not punish him as he deserved. So the giant
continued drinking; and as his swaggering grew more unbearable, the
gods with difficulty restrained themselves from striking him dead
where he sat. "I shall drink every drop of wine in Asgard before I
leave here," he cried, glaring drunkenly at Odin. "Then I shall pick
up a handful of you people that are called gods, and carry you off to
Jötunheim as playthings for my children."
So pleased was the giant with his own wit that he began to laugh until
the cups rattled upon the table. The gods felt they could not endure
his presence any longer, and determined to hurl him out of Asgard,
even if he was their guest. But Loki, who was enjoying the giant's
boasts and drunken wit, begged them not to act too hastily; so
Hrungner kept on drinking unmolested. Suddenly he threw his cup with a
crash to the ground, and, looking insolently around at the company,
cried, "The gods have always been the enemies of the frost-giants; but
soon I will drive them from their lofty place, and take Sif and Freya
to be my servants."
This insulting speech was more than the gods could bear; so they
called upon Thor to rid them of the braggart in any way he desired.
Then Hrungner saw the wrathful face of the god approaching, and saw,
too, the upraised hammer; but he was too full of drunken courage to
feel afraid. Before Mjölner fell, he roared savagely at Thor: "If I
had my shield and flint stone here, you would not dare to come at me
with your wonderful hammer. It is very brave of you to strike an
unprotected guest."
At these words Thor's arm dropped to his side, and the giant gave a
mocking laugh.
"Let this mighty fighter meet me in single combat on the plains of
Jötunheim, and then I will prove that the frost-giants are stronger
than any of the timid dwellers in Asgard."
Thor was only too ready to accept the challenge, and arranged to meet
the giant on a certain plain in Jötunheim.[30] Then Hrungner, who felt
that there was nothing more for him to do or say in Asgard, took his
departure; and, returning to his own country, spread the news that
there was to be a mighty combat between himself and Thor. The giants
did not feel very certain of Hrungner's victory over the god, so they
decided to help him in every possible way. They made a huge giant out
of clay and stood him on the plain where the battle was to be fought,
hoping by this stratagem to deceive Thor. As there was no human heart
to put into the clay giant,[31] they gave him a mare's heart, and this
made the poor creature so timid that he could barely be induced to
stand still on the plain and await Thor's coming.
[30] The plain was called Grjotlungard.
[31] The clay giant was named Mokkerkalfe.
Beside the newly made giant stood Hrungner with his shield and
flintstone, secretly hoping that Thor would mistake the clay figure
for that of his opponent, and so spend the first force of his blows on
the mock giant's head. Suddenly on the crest of the mountain appeared
a runner; and soon Thor's servant, Thialfi, came speeding toward them.
He called loudly to Hrungner: "My master is on his way to meet you;
but he will not follow on the road I came. He is coming along
underground, and will attack you from beneath." The stupid giant
believed this; so he threw his shield on the ground and stood firmly
upon it, with the flintstone in his hand, ready to strike Thor's head
the moment it emerged.
Soon there came a sudden roaring sound as if all the waters of the
earth were rushing to pour themselves into the sea; the sky darkened,
and through the thick clouds the lightning gleamed and flashed over
the darkening plain. Nearer and nearer came the crashing of thunder
which heralded Thor's approach, and the hills answered with long, deep
peals. Then on the brow of the hill overlooking the plain appeared
Thor's majestic figure, so terrible to behold that most of the giants
fled away in fear. With incredible swiftness he rushed upon Hrungner,
and the hammer--whirled through the air by his mighty arm--flew
straight at the giant's head. The terrific force of the blow hurled
Hrungner at once to the ground, but not before he had thrown his
flintstone at Thor's forehead.
The noise of the combat was like the crashing of many mountains
together. Hrungner fell to the ground like an oak tree that has
received the last stroke of the axe; and, as he fell, Thialfi sprang
at the clay giant and disposed of him with one straight blow. The
flintstone which Hrungner had thrown, sank into Thor's forehead; and
the sudden pain made him so dizzy that he staggered forward and fell
just where Hrungner's great body lay stretched upon the ground. Then
Thor found to his dismay that one of the giant's feet was resting
firmly on his neck; and, try as he would, he could not get free. So he
bade Thialfi bring his little Magne, who was only three days old, and
when the child came, he easily lifted the great foot from his father's
neck. Thor was very proud of this display of strength, and he wished
to give his son the giant's horse Goldfax, but Odin would not permit
the gift.
The frost-giants were discouraged over the complete defeat of their
champion, but they took great satisfaction in seeing the flintstone
which Hrungner had driven into Thor's forehead. When the Thunderer
returned to Asgard he found that the stone caused him much pain, and
there seemed to be no way to remove it. So he sent for the sorceress
Groa, who, as soon as she came, began to weave her magic spells, and
chant weird songs, and Thor felt the stone in his head already
beginning to loosen. While Groa continued her incantations, and the
pain in his head grew less and less each moment, Thor tried to think
of some way in which he could reward his benefactress for her
kindness. Orvandel, Groa's husband, had been for many years away from
his home; and as the sorceress loved him very dearly, there was
nothing she wished for so much as his return. Thor was partly
responsible for her husband's disappearance, for Orvandel had once
angered him so that he had put the offender into a basket and carried
him to a far-off country, where he left the unfortunate man to find
his way back alone. During the journey the air was so cold that poor
Orvandel nearly perished in his narrow prison. As it was, one of his
toes which protruded from the basket really did freeze; and this made
Thor so ashamed of his harsh treatment of Orvandel that he set the
prisoner free. Then he placed his toe in the sky as a star, and in the
northern heavens there is a bright constellation which is still known
as Orvandel's Toe.
When Thor told Groa what he had done, and promised to bring her
husband back to her at once, the sorceress became so overjoyed at the
prospect of Orvandel's return that she forgot all her magic arts and
spells. Full of happiness at the thought of seeing her husband, she
suddenly stopped her weird singing, and was unable to resume it,
though Thor begged her to continue the enchantment until the stone was
loosed. But Groa had lost all her mystic power, and could never charm
things from their place again. So the flintstone remained in Thor's
forehead, and in the far-off countries of the north, the children are
taught not to throw any stone too hard upon the floor, for when it
strikes the ground the flint in Thor's forehead moves, and causes the
god much pain.
The Story of Balder
In all the city of Asgard there was no god so beautiful or so dearly
loved as Balder. Wherever he went it was like the coming of sunshine,
and every grief fled away before the brightness of his presence. In
all his happy life he had never known a moment's sadness, and the gods
believed that none could ever come to him. So beautiful and joyous and
free from care was Balder that he seemed to the gods to be the one
among them who could surely never share in the final doom which they
knew awaited all the dwellers in Asgard.
The days passed happily for Balder,[32] and no thought of sorrow
crossed his untroubled mind, until one night he had a dream which
filled him with strange fear. When the gods met again in council he
told them his dream, and begged them to interpret its meaning. They
tried to laugh and banish his fears, but at heart they felt that an
evil day had come. Over Asgard now hung a dark shadow which foreboded
the coming sorrow, for the dream spoke of approaching evil, even of
death. So full of sadness did the gods become at the thought of
losing Balder, that they cared no longer to join in their accustomed
games or to make merry while some tragic fate might be overshadowing
the bright and joyous youth.
[32] Balder's palace was named Breidablik.
Odin could not rest until he learned the truth about his favourite
son; so he mounted Sleipnir and rode down to the dark region where the
goddess Hel ruled over her innumerable dead. In those silent halls[33]
he found a table spread, and dishes of gold and silver were set out as
if for some honoured guest. At the head of the table was one vacant
seat; and when Odin saw this, his heart sank with fear, for he knew
too well for whom the chair was waiting. Hoping against hope, in spite
of this sinister sight, Odin returned to the earth and sought out a
certain wood where a famous prophetess had long ago been buried. Over
her grave he uttered some mystic words that roused the sleeper from
her age-long rest, and at last she spoke in a faint, far-off voice.
"Who is it that comes to break my sleep?"
[33] Hel's palace was called Eliudnir.
And Odin answered, "I am Voltam, and I have come to ask why the table
is so richly spread in Helheim and for whom the vacant chair stands
waiting." Thus Odin spoke, for he feared to tell her his name.
A silence fell over the dim old forest, and for a moment Odin feared
that his spells could not compel the dead to speak. But at last a
faint voice whispered, "It is for the shining Balder that Hel and all
her hosts are waiting."
"Who then shall send the Beloved of the gods to Helheim?" asked Odin,
and he waited fearfully for the answer.
"Blind Höder shall slay him, for so it has been written, and so it
shall be," came the words which the anxious listener dreaded and yet
waited to hear.
"And who shall avenge the death of Balder?" he asked sorrowfully. For
a long time no answer came; then the voice, which sounded still
farther away, cried mournfully:--
"Keep me no longer from my well-earned rest. For ages upon ages I have
lain here, and the rain and snow have beat upon my head and the winds
have sung their songs in my ears. Depart thou hence and leave me to my
sleep."
So Odin left the forest, for he knew that the dead would speak no
more; and slowly and sorrowfully he returned to Asgard. He did not
tell the gods of his visit to Helheim; but kept to himself the sad
knowledge he had gained.
Meantime the goddess Frigga determined to avert, if possible, the
unknown danger that threatened her son; so she went out one day from
her palace and wandered over the whole earth. And as she went she
begged everything which she met to swear by a solemn oath never to
hurt Balder. Fire, water, rocks, trees, iron, brass, birds and
beasts,--all were bound by a vow to do no harm to him; and everything
on earth gave the promise gladly, for all the world loved the bright
and joyous Balder. As Frigga was returning home, she saw just outside
the gates of Asgard a small plant called the mistletoe; but it looked
so harmless that she passed it by without asking for the promise, and
hurried on to tell Odin of the success of her journey.
When the gods heard how everything had sworn never to hurt Balder,
there was gladness again among them. But Odin, knowing the decree of
the Norns, could not rejoice with the rest; though in the general
happiness that reigned now in Asgard, no one marked his sadness. Then,
to prove whether all the things which had given the promise would
really keep their word to Frigga, the gods placed the youth as a
target before them, and hurled at him huge stones and sharp-pointed
spears and the weapons which they used in battle; but each missile
turned aside, and refused to hurt the shining Balder. Even the deadly
battle-axes fell harmless at his feet. Now Loki, who always hated
everything beautiful, and who was jealous of Balder because the gods
loved him, stood by watching the game. His heart was full of
bitterness and envy, and he hated the glorious youth who could be so
confident and secure in the love which all the world had owned for
him. So he determined to work some harm to Balder.
One day a strange old woman came to the palace of Frigga and asked to
have speech with her. The goddess was sitting with her maidens
spinning, and when the old woman was admitted to her presence, she
spoke to her kindly and asked the object of her visit.
"I have come, lady," said the old woman, who was really Loki in
disguise, "to learn what is going on here in Asgard that the shouts of
joy reach even to the earth. I hear laughter and cheering in the court
where the gods are at their games. Tell me, what does it mean?" Then
Frigga smiled happily and said, "It means that the gods are hurling
their battle-axes at Balder and trying to wound him, but he stands
before them unhurt, for everything on earth has sworn to me to do him
no harm."
"Has everything indeed made you this promise?" asked Loki.
"Yes," answered Frigga; "everything except a little plant called the
mistletoe, and this looked so small and weak that I did not ask it to
promise."
"And does this mistletoe grow far from here?" continued the pretended
old woman.
"Just at the gates of Asgard," answered Frigga. And Loki, having
learned what he wished, left the palace exulting in the ease with
which he had deceived the unsuspecting goddess. Laying aside his
disguise, he sought the place where the mistletoe grew, and cutting
off a branch, he shaped it into an arrow. Then he went to join the
gods in their sport.
Just outside the circle of the players stood Höder, the brother of
Balder, silent and alone, for he was blind and could not share in the
games. Going up to him, Loki said,--
"Why do you not join in the sport, Höder, and throw some missile at
the wonderful Balder who now bears a charmed life?"
"Because I cannot see where he is standing," answered Höder, "and
besides, I have no weapon to throw."
"If that is all," said Loki, "come with me and I will give you an
arrow and help you shoot it." So he led Höder forward, and the blind
god followed him willingly, for he dreamed of no evil.
Then Loki put the arrow into his hand and directed his aim so well
that the fatal shaft flew straight to Balder's heart, and in a moment
the beautiful god lay dead.
There was mourning now in Asgard, and over all the world. The sun no
longer shone with its accustomed brightness; the birds stopped their
singing, and the flowers drooped their heads; even the beasts felt the
sadness that lay upon the earth, and crouched silent in their dens.
Everything that loved the shining Balder now wept and mourned for him.
Then the gods arrayed his body in the finest cloth of gold, and
brought it down to the sea, where Balder's ship[34] lay close to the
water's edge. Very sadly they laid the body upon its deck, and heaped
around the beloved form rings and chains of finest gold, jewels and
weapons such as warriors love. When Nanna, Balder's wife, saw the body
wrapped in readiness for burning, her heart broke from her great
grief, and the gods laid her, dead, beside her husband.
[34] The name of the ship was Ringhorn.
Then they lit the funeral fires with a thorn-twig, which is the emblem
of sleep; and took their last look at the dead Balder as he lay upon
the burning pyre. Odin, stepping forward, whispered in the unhearing
ear of his son; but what he said no one ever knew.
When they tried to launch the ship, they found to their dismay that it
was too heavily laden for their united efforts. So they sent for the
mountain-giantess Hyrroken--who had ever been friendly to the people
of Asgard--and begged her to grant this last service to the beloved of
the gods. The giantess came, riding on a fierce wolf, with twisted
snakes in her hands for reins. She gladly offered her help to the
gods, and putting her shoulder to the prow, she gave it a mighty
shove which sent the burning ship far out from the shore.
The flames rose higher and higher as the vessel drifted out toward the
sea, bearing with it the light and joy of Asgard. A silence fell on
all the watchers, and great sorrow filled their hearts. All the world
seemed under a shadow, and in the solemn stillness no sound was heard
but the roaring of the flames on the burning ship. The gods stood upon
the shore watching the funeral pyre, and, mingled with their sadness,
was a dread foreboding of evil; for outside the ring of the shining
ones of Asgard was another group of watchers--the frost-giants--who
seemed to be looking on in mockery at the solemn rites, and now and
then drew nearer, their tall forms looming up grim and threatening and
terrible.
Then the sea and sky seemed to burst into one mass of glowing flame
and a wonderful golden light spread over the earth as the fire upon
the slowly moving ship burned each moment more brightly. Thus the
vessel drifted westward toward the sea, and the gods knew that Balder
had passed forever from their sight.
One by one they returned sadly to Asgard; but Odin could not give up
his son without one last effort to reclaim him. He determined to go
himself to Helheim, and offer a ransom to the goddess Hel if she would
give Balder back to him. Meantime poor blind Höder had been mourning
over the great evil which he had innocently wrought, and he wished
with all the fervor of his loving heart that he could bring Balder
back to Asgard. Sadly he sought the palace of his mother Frigga, and
asked her whether he might not go to Helheim and offer his life to the
dread goddess in exchange for Balder's. "The road is long and hard to
find," said Frigga, "and what could a blind god do in the path where
the best traveller would lose his way? Go back to your own dwelling,
and send for Hermod, our swift messenger. He loved the shining Balder
and now mourns for him. Bid him ride to Helheim."
Höder did as his mother commanded, and found Hermod only too willing
to take the fearful journey for the sake of Balder. Odin gave him his
own horse Sleipnir, who up to this time had never allowed another
rider to mount him. Nine days and nights Hermod rode through the earth
in darkness so thick that his horse could not see where to step. It
was a black and steep and fearful road down to Helheim, and only on
Odin's horse could the journey have been made. On the tenth morning he
came to the golden bridge that spanned the river Giöll; and here a
maiden,[35] pale and sorrowful, kept guard. She halted Hermod as he
rode across the bridge, and said:--
[35] Her name was Modgud.
"Who are you, and what do you seek here among the dead? Yesterday
five hands of men rode across the bridge, but they did not shake it as
you alone have done. Your face is not as the face of the dead. Why do
you come here? It is no place for the living."
Then Hermod asked if she had seen the shining Balder pass over her
bridge; and the maiden answered,--
"He has crossed it already, and has gone to the dark hall where the
feast is now spread."
So Hermod rode on until he reached Hel's gloomy palace and came face
to face with the terrible queen who ruled over the kingdom of the
dead. Hermod trembled with fear as he looked about him, but his love
for Balder gave him courage, and he stepped up boldly before the
goddess, saying:--
"I have come to beg a boon of thee, O Hel. Your land is full without
the shining Balder, and Asgard is empty and lonely since he has gone.
Every heart mourns for him, and every eye is filled with tears. Give
him back to us."
Slowly and sternly Hel replied: "Is there indeed no dry eye upon the
earth? If it be true as thou sayest, that everything weeps for Balder,
he shall return to Asgard; but if there is one who will not weep, he
shall stay forever in Helheim."
Then Hermod hurried with the message back to Asgard, and when Odin
heard the answer Hel had made, he gave the command, and everything
upon the earth wept and mourned for Balder. Throughout the whole world
arose the sound of bitter wailing; and not a single eye remained
undimmed by tears. But among the mourners in Asgard there was one old
woman[36] whom Odin spied standing apart and shedding no tear.
[36] Loki disguised himself as the giantess Thok.
"Weep," he cried, "weep for Balder that he may return."
"Nay," replied the old woman, "I will not weep. He has done naught for
me that I should mourn him. Let him stay in Helheim." Then with a
mocking laugh she hurried away, and Odin knew that it was Loki.
So Balder never came back to Asgard.
Andvari's Hoard
Once Odin and Hœnir and Loki went on a visit to the earth, and in
order to mingle freely with people without being recognized as gods,
they laid aside all their divine powers and became, even in
appearance, like ordinary men. When they had wandered about the earth
many days, and talked with many people,--who never knew, of course,
that the gods were among them,--they grew tired of the busy life of
the world, and longed to find some place of quiet and rest. So they
went far into the heart of the forest, and sat down beside a brook
where many fish were leaping about and darting through the sparkling
water. The gods lay idly upon the grass and watched them for a long
time. Presently, they spied an otter sitting on the bank of the
stream, lazily eating a fish which he had just caught. The gods looked
on at the meal, and it made them remember that they too were hungry.
Odin therefore proposed that they journey on in search of food, and to
this the others readily consented; but as they rose to go, Loki
suddenly took up a large stone, and, throwing it at the otter, killed
him instantly. At this wanton cruelty Odin became angry, and rebuked
Loki for his act[37]; but Loki only laughed, while he skinned the
otter and cast its body back into the stream.
[37] The otter was held sacred by the Norsemen, and it
figures in the myths of many races. Even to-day the killing
of an otter is considered a great crime by the Parsees.
The gods then wandered on until almost nightfall before they came to
any dwelling, and this was only a rude hut built on the side of a
mountain. But they were too weary to look further, so they stopped to
beg food and a lodging for the night. The old man[38] who lived in the
hut bade them enter and share his simple fare, and in return he asked
them to tell him of their adventures. Without revealing their
identity, Odin told him of their wanderings among men, and of the
strange things they had seen. Hœnir also related many stories; but his
were of brave heroes who had wrought the mightiest deeds on bloody
battlefields. When it came Loki's turn, they asked him to tell all he
knew of the life lived by the bright dwellers in Asgard, but Loki
laughed and threw upon the ground his otter's skin. When the old man
saw this, he cried out:--
[38] The old man's name was Hreidmar (Rodmar).
"O wicked, cruel man, you have killed my son. He was fishing to-day in
the stream, and at this sport he always takes the form of an otter.
Alas, this is indeed he, and you have slain him."
Then he raised a loud cry, and called for help to his two sons,
Fafnir and Regin, who came running in from the woods near by. As soon
as they heard of the killing of their brother, they seized the three
gods and bound them hand and foot, for, in becoming men, the gods had
lost all their divine powers, and they had no choice but to yield.
When Odin begged the old man to ask whatever he would in payment for
their ransom, both Fafnir and Regin demanded the life of one of the
gods in return for their brother's. But their father spread the
otter's skin upon the ground, and, turning to Odin, said,--
"You and your wicked companions shall be free when you have covered
every hair of this hide with a piece of gold or a precious stone."
"We will do this," answered Odin; "but first you must set one of us
free that he may go and procure the treasure. Let the other two stay
bound as hostages until he returns."
To this the old man and his sons agreed, and Odin bade them unbind
Loki, for he alone would know where to find such vast treasure as they
needed. Accordingly Loki was freed, and promising his companions to
return with their ransom, he hurried away. There was only one place
where a hoard of gold and precious stones might be found, and thither
Loki directed his steps. There were many mountains to climb and
rivers to cross before he reached the place he sought, and night
coming on made the journey more difficult and wearisome.
At last he spied upon a rocky mountain side the thing he had come so
far to find, a small, deep cavern in the rocks. As Loki drew nearer,
the moonlight revealed a little brook gushing from the mouth of the
cavern and winding in and out among the rocks below. It was small, but
beautifully clear, and the pebbles in its bed shone in the moonlight
like diamonds. Just where it issued from the cave, the water flowed
swiftly over a deep pool, and here it was so dark that only the sharp
eyes of Loki could have caught the faint shimmer of a salmon which lay
lurking in its depths.
Loki saw it, however, and his heart leaped for joy, for this salmon
was no other than the cunning dwarf Andvari, the owner of a wonderful
hoard of gold and gems. The treasure was buried somewhere near the
cavern, and it was to gain this glittering hoard that Loki had come so
far. So he now put forth all his skill to catch the wily salmon as it
darted to and fro in the stream. The dwarf knew, however, who the
fisherman was, and why he had come, and he had no intention of being
caught and made to yield up his treasures. Loki spent many hours
trying to lure the salmon into the shallows, but all his efforts were
in vain. The crafty fish never moved from his deep, dark pool. Then
Loki saw that further attempts would be useless unless he had help
from some one with magic skill, so he determined to seek the aid of
Queen Ran and her wonderful net.
Leaving the cave, he hurried down to the sea, and for many hours he
walked along the shore, searching carefully among the rocks for the
hiding place of the cruel ocean queen. Somewhere here, or upon the
jagged reefs, he would be sure to find her spreading a net for her
prey. But though he wandered for miles along the water's edge, he
caught no glimpse of her anywhere; and, wearied and disheartened, he
was about to give up his search, when he heard a low, rippling laugh
just behind him, and turning he saw the beautiful daughters of the
sea-king seated on the rocks combing their golden hair. Loki went over
to them and begged them to tell him where he could find their mother,
Queen Ran.
"Why do you seek her?" one of the maidens asked.
"Because I am a fisherman, and would like to ask her where the big
fish are gathering now," replied Loki.
The sea-maidens laughed again and said:--
"O crafty, cunning Loki, do not think to deceive us who know well who
you are, and why you have come hither. Play no tricks, then, and tell
no lies to our mother, or you will not gain the object of your
journey."
Loki promised, and begged the nymphs to tell him where to find Queen
Ran, since no other than Odin himself needed her help.
"You must go about ten miles farther," answered one of the maidens,
"until you come to a place where the rocks are high, and project in
sharp, dangerous reefs far out into the sea. Here the waves dash with
tremendous fury, and here is many a good ship wrecked and all her
cargo lost. Look among the shadows of the rocks, and you will find our
mother sitting there mending her net."
Loki thanked the nymphs and hurried on, for the night was growing
black and the moon was completely hidden, and he had yet far to go.
When he felt sure that ten miles lay between him and the daughters of
the sea, he stopped and looked carefully about him. Near by was a
group of tall, jagged rocks over which the waves dashed with great
force; but there was one spot so protected that even the spray from
the water did not reach it, and here Loki spied Queen Ran,
long-fingered, greedy and cruel, mending her magic net. When she saw
Loki, she tried to hide in the shadow of the rocks, for she knew him
and feared he had come with some unfriendly message from Odin. But
Loki called to her and said:--
"Be not afraid, O Queen, for I come as a petitioner to beg a great
boon of thee;" and Ran replied, "What does Loki wish, that he leaves
the shining halls of Asgard to travel over the earth to speak to the
wife of Æger?"
"I have journeyed thus far," answered Loki, "because I have heard of
your wonderful net. They say that it will catch whatever you wish, and
that anything once caught cannot escape from its magic meshes.
Therefore I have come to ask your help, for there is a certain salmon
which I have long tried to snare, but which is too cunning to be
caught by ordinary means. Lend me, I beg, your magic net."
"I cannot! I cannot!" cried Ran, "there is a ship sailing hither which
will reach these rocks in the morning, and it is full of great
treasure--jewels, and gold, and rich apparel. I have sent my mermaids
to lure it to the reefs, where it will be dashed to pieces, and the
prize be gathered into my net. No, I cannot lend it to you."
"But let me have it for just one hour," pleaded Loki, "and I will
promise to return it in that time. I swear it on the word of a god."
The oath was reassuring, but still Ran hesitated to let the precious
net leave her hands. At length, however, she was persuaded, and with
many expressions of gratitude, Loki said good-by and hastened back to
the cave of Andvari, for the night was now far spent, and at daylight
the salmon would be sure to leave his haunts.
When he reached the cavern, the fish was still lying idly in the
water, but upon seeing the net in Loki's hand it darted like a flash
down the stream. Then Loki quickly cast his net, and though the
cunning fish swam with wonderful swiftness, it could not escape the
magic net which began to close slowly and surely about it. As soon as
Loki thought that his prize was secure, he drew the net on land, and,
after slowly loosening the meshes, he at last grasped the struggling
fish in his hand. Now, however, it was no longer a salmon fighting for
its freedom, but the crafty dwarf Andvari. Any one less wise than Loki
would have dropped him immediately in surprise at the transformation,
but Loki only held on the tighter, and shook the poor dwarf until he
cried for mercy.
"No mercy will I grant thee, thou master thief," exclaimed the god,
"until thou hast revealed to me the hiding place of thy ill-gotten
treasures. Show me where it lies, or I will dash thee to pieces upon
these rocks."
Seeing that there was no hope of escape, Andvari promised to yield up
his hoard, and pointing to a large rock near by bade Loki raise it and
look beneath. Without loosening his hold of the dwarf, Loki tried to
lift the stone, but though it was far from being heavy or beyond his
strength, he found that he could not move it. Then he knew that he was
being tricked, and, grasping the dwarf still tighter, he shook him
fiercely and commanded him to give his help. Andvari laid his finger
on the stone and immediately it turned over and disclosed a large pit
beneath.
It was quite dark now and the moon was completely hidden; yet even in
the dim light Loki saw the sparkle of thousands of precious gems and
the shimmer of many dazzling heaps of gold. It was truly a wonderful
sight, and would have bewildered the ordinary finder of such wealth;
but Loki had no time to spend in admiration. He gathered all the
treasure together in the net, which, by its magic power, grew larger
and larger as he continued to fill it.
The dwarf meanwhile stood by sullen and angry, watching the gold and
gems being poured into the net. Had it been Odin who was robbing him
of his hoard, he would have begged that some small portion of it might
be left him, but he knew better than to make such a request of Loki.
So when the last of the treasure had been gathered up, he turned away
and was disappearing into the woods when Loki caught the glitter of
something upon his finger, and seizing him roughly, cried out: "Ho,
ho, my cunning elf. So you would keep back some of the gems, I see.
Yield me that ring upon your finger, or you shall not have one moment
more to live."
Andvari's face grew black with rage, and he refused to give up his
ring, stamping his foot all the while upon the ground and cursing Loki
for his avarice and greed. Yet he knew too well that his fury was in
vain, and soon he changed his tone, begging Loki, humbly, to leave him
his one poor gem. This appeal would have moved any other of the gods,
but Loki was never known to do a generous thing in all his life. He
only gave a mocking, hateful laugh, and, seizing the dwarf, tore the
ring from his finger.
It was a wonderful ring, shaped like a serpent, coiled, with its tail
in its mouth. It had two blood-red rubies for eyes, and in the dim
light they seemed to Loki to glow with all the cunning and cruelty of
a living serpent. But this did not deter him from slipping the ring on
his finger, and laughing triumphantly at the dwarf, who was now
foaming with helpless rage. Then Andvari cursed the ring and said:
"May this ring be your bane, and the bane of all who shall possess it.
May it bring sorrow and evil upon him who shall wear it, and from this
day be the source of envy and hatred and bloodshed."
To these dreadful words Loki paid no heed, and, throwing his precious
burden upon his shoulder, he hurried down the mountain side and sped
swiftly on to the old man's cottage. Odin and Hœnir were still bound,
and they had almost given up hope of Loki's return. But they forgot
the tediousness of their captivity when they saw the great heap of
gold and gems which Loki poured out of the net; for here was surely
more than enough to cover ten otters' skins, and the remainder of the
treasure would be their own.
Fafnir and Regin stretched the skin upon the ground, and bade Loki
cover every hair. This seemed at first an easy thing to do; but the
more gold and precious stones that Loki spread upon it, the larger the
skin seemed to grow, until it covered the entire floor of the hut; and
though Loki still added handfuls of gold, the brothers always found
some spot uncovered. At last every hair of the hide was completely
hidden beneath some coin or gem, and the gods demanded their release.
The old man unloosed the cords which bound them and was bidding them
depart, when Regin uttered a loud cry and declared that there was one
hair yet uncovered upon the otter's head.
Odin and Hœnir looked at each other in dismay, for the net was now
empty, and there was no way to procure further treasure. Meanwhile,
the old man and his sons were clamouring loudly for the gods to fulfil
their promise. The case seemed indeed desperate; until Loki drew from
his finger the serpent ring of Andvari, and laid it upon the hair. The
brothers being now satisfied, the gods left the hut with all speed.
Odin and Hœnir returned at once to Asgard, while Loki took back the
net to Queen Ran, who was anxiously waiting, and reached her just as
the dawn was breaking.
The treasure soon became, according to Andvari's words, a source of
hatred and bloodshed; for the old man, wishing to keep the wealth for
himself, drove his sons from the house, and shut himself up with his
treasure. All day long he sat poring greedily over the heap of
glittering gems, and running his fingers through the shining gold.
Above all, he loved to watch the serpent ring, with its glowing ruby
eyes.
Then one night Fafnir came suddenly upon him, demanding his share of
the gold; and when the old man refused to yield up even one stone,
Fafnir slew him in his anger, and took possession of all the treasure.
Soon he grew fearful that his brother might steal upon him sometime
and rob, or perchance kill him; so he changed himself into a monstrous
dragon which breathed forth fire and spat deadly poison. Thus secured,
he coiled himself about the hoard, and no one dared to approach him.
Regin meanwhile fled to a neighbouring city, and became the king's
master-smith, the maker of strong swords.
The Story of Siegmund
The king whose protection Regin sought was named Alf, and when he
learned of the great skill that belonged to this stranger in his
realm, he gave Regin a place of honour among the sword-makers, and
soon promoted him to be master-smith. Before many years passed the
fame of Regin's smithy had spread far and wide; for here men gathered
not only to learn the master's craft, but to share in that wisdom
which he seemed to have gathered from all the ages. Even the noted
wise men of the kingdom came to him, wondering at his great knowledge;
and the king sought his counsel in all the difficult affairs of state.
At the court of King Alf lived his foster-son Siegfried,[39] who was
much beloved by the king, although he was not of his own blood. The
youth was tall and strong, of fearless bearing, and with so keen an
eye that men often quailed before his glance. His hair was golden red,
and fell down in long locks over his shoulders; and his body was of a
strength that matched the beauty of his face. Men said of him that
"never did he lose heart, and of naught was he afraid." When Siegfried
grew to manhood, King Alf sent him to Regin's smithy that he might not
only profit by the wisdom of this wisest of teachers, but also be
taught to fashion a sword that could be worthily borne by one of his
name and race, for Siegfried was the last of the Volsungs--a race of
warriors whose fame was still fresh in the minds of men.
[39] In the Volsunga Saga his name is Sigurd.
At first Siegfried did not like to wear the woollen coat and rough
leather apron of a smith, for he was a prince's son and he thought the
work menial; but he soon learned to respect his great teacher so much
that the place took on a new dignity in his eyes and he no longer
chafed at the hard work or the simple fare he shared with Regin. Early
in the morning the sound of Siegfried's hammer could be heard as he
worked blithely at his trade, and he almost forgot that he had ever
known any other life than this one by Regin's side. When the long day
was over and he sat with his master by the glowing light of the forge,
Regin would tell him wonderful tales of gods and heroes and especially
of the warrior race from which Siegfried sprang. Many times they sat
until the last bit of fire in the forge sank into lifeless embers, and
still the youth listened eagerly to the stories of brave deeds wrought
by the long-dead Volsungs. The story which he never tired of hearing
was that of his own birth, and in this wise did Regin always begin
the tale:--
There was once a mighty king named Volsung,[40] who built a lordly
palace such as men never saw before nor will ever see again; for its
walls glistened with thousands of shields taken from his enemies in
battle, and in the centre of the palace was a large courtyard in which
grew a wonderful tree. This tree was so high that it towered above the
castle walls, and its branches grew so thick that they spread like a
roof over the whole palace. The king called this tree Branstock, and
about its mighty trunk the Volsungs gathered to feast and sing songs
in praise of their king and their race.
[40] Volsung was the son of Rerir, who was the son of Sigi,
the son of Odin.
Ten sons and one daughter were born to King Volsung, and of these the
great ruler was rightly proud, for the youths bid fair to excel their
kinsmen in strength and courage, while the daughter, Signy, was so
famed for her beauty that suitors came from many distant lands. Now
there was a certain king named Siggeir, ruler of the Goths, who wooed
the fair Signy with many rich gifts, all of which the maiden coldly
disdained, for she distrusted his dark, evil-looking face. King
Volsung, however, was much taken with the wealth of Siggeir and his
seeming generosity, and he urged his daughter to accept this giver of
rich gifts. For a long time Signy refused to listen to her father's
words, but at length she yielded and was betrothed to her hated
suitor. Then a great feast was proclaimed throughout the kingdom, and
Siggeir gave freely of his gold. The wedding banquet was served in the
courtyard beneath the spreading boughs of the mighty Branstock, and
the guests were so many in number that they well-nigh filled the halls
to overflowing.
When the feasting and merriment were at their highest, there suddenly
appeared in the midst of the revellers a tall old man. He had a blue
cloak thrown over his shoulders, and his beard was long and white.
Only a few of the guests caught a glimpse of his face, but those who
did affirmed that he had only one eye. Stepping quickly up to King
Volsung's wonderful tree, he drew from beneath his cloak a gleaming
sword and drove it with great force into the tree trunk, up to the
very hilt. Then turning to the astonished company, he said, "Whoso
draweth this sword from the tree shall have it as a gift from me; and
he shall find that he never bore in his hand a better sword than
this." So saying, the old man went forth from the hall, and none knew
who he was nor whither he went; but some whispered that it was Odin
himself who had been among them.
Then one by one the guests of King Volsung tried to draw out the
sword, but, though many of them were strong-armed warriors, not a
single man had the power so much as to loosen it from the tree. King
Siggeir was among the last to try his strength, and he strove until
his eyes almost started from his head. But he, too, failed as the
others had done, and returned to his place angered and humiliated at
his defeat. When all the guests had been put to the test, and no one
had drawn the sword, a certain lord said to King Volsung, "Have you no
more sons?" and the king answered: "There is yet one more, but he is a
mere lad. It would be cruel to shame him before so great a company."
The warriors urged him, however, to summon the youth; and though
anxious to spare his youngest son, the king reluctantly consented to
have Siegmund[41] appear. The lad stood straight and strong and
fearless before the lordly company, and asked what was the king's
will. Volsung pointed to the sword, and bade young Siegmund draw it
forth. To the astonishment of all beholders, the lad stepped boldly up
to the Branstock, and, grasping the hilt of the sword, drew it out as
easily as if it had only been in the scabbard. The guests were
delighted at this evidence of Odin's favour toward an untried
stripling; and they all praised Siegmund's good fortune--all but King
Siggeir, who hated the youth from that day. He sought to buy the
sword of Siegmund by offering him thrice its weight in gold, but the
youth replied: "You might have had the sword if it were Odin's will
that you should bear it. But now it shall stay mine, though you
offered me all the gold you have." Then was King Siggeir filled with
wrath at these scornful words and vowed vengeance against Siegmund and
all the Volsungs.
[41] Spelled Sigmund in the Volsunga Saga.
When the wedding feast was over and the time came for Signy to set
sail with her husband to his o
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