Valkyriur Song (Mrs. Hemans).



Their Numbers and Duties

The numbers of the Valkyrs differ greatly according to various mythologists, ranging from three to sixteen, most authorities, however, naming only nine. The Valkyrs were considered as divinities of the air; they were also called Norns, or wish maidens. It was said that Freya and Skuld led them on to the fray.

"She saw Valkyries Come from afar, Ready to ride To the tribes of god; Skuld held the shield, Skaugul came next, Gunnr, Hildr, Gaundul, And Geir-skaugul. Thus now are told The Warrior's Norns."

Saemund's Edda (Henderson's tr.).

The Valkyrs, as we have seen, had important duties in Valhalla, when, their bloody weapons laid aside, they poured out the heavenly mead for the Einheriar. This beverage delighted the souls of the new-comers, and they welcomed the fair maidens as warmly as when they had first seen them on the battlefield and realised that they had come to transport them where they fain would be.

"In the shade now tall forms are advancing, And their wan hands like snowflakes in the moonlight are gleaming; They beckon, they whisper, 'Oh! strong Armed in Valour, The pale guests await thee—mead foams in Valhalla.'"

Finn's Saga (Hewitt).



Wayland and the Valkyrs

The Valkyrs were supposed to take frequent flights to earth in swan plumage, which they would throw off when they came to a secluded stream, that they might indulge in a bath. Any mortal surprising them thus, and securing their plumage, could prevent them from leaving the earth, and could even force these proud maidens to mate with him if such were his pleasure.

It is related that three of the Valkyrs, Olrun, Alvit, and Svanhvit, were once sporting in the waters, when suddenly the three brothers Egil, Slagfinn, and Voelund, or Wayland the smith, came upon them, and securing their swan plumage, the young men forced them to remain upon earth and become their wives. The Valkyrs, thus detained, remained with their husbands nine years, but at the end of that time, recovering their plumage, or the spell being broken in some other way, they effected their escape.

"There they stayed Seven winters through; But all the eighth Were with longing seized; And in the ninth Fate parted them. The maidens yearned For the murky wood, The young Alvit, Fate to fulfil."

Lay of Voelund (Thorpe's tr.).

The brothers felt the loss of their wives extremely, and two of them, Egil and Slagfinn, putting on their snow shoes, went in search of their loved ones, disappearing in the cold and foggy regions of the North. The third brother, Voelund, however, remained at home, knowing all search would be of no avail, and he found solace in the contemplation of a ring which Alvit had given him as a love-token, and he indulged the constant hope that she would return. As he was a very clever smith, and could manufacture the most dainty ornaments of silver and gold, as well as magic weapons which no blow could break, he now employed his leisure in making seven hundred rings exactly like the one which his wife had given him. These, when finished, he bound together; but one night, on coming home from the hunt, he found that some one had carried away one ring, leaving the others behind, and his hopes received fresh inspiration, for he told himself that his wife had been there and would soon return for good.

That selfsame night, however, he was surprised in his sleep, and bound and made prisoner by Nidud, King of Sweden, who took possession of his sword, a choice weapon invested with magic powers, which he reserved for his own use, and of the love ring made of pure Rhine gold, which latter he gave to his only daughter, Bodvild. As for the unhappy Voelund himself, he was led captive to a neighbouring island, where, after being hamstrung, in order that he should not escape, the king put him to the incessant task of forging weapons and ornaments for his use. He also compelled him to build an intricate labyrinth, and to this day a maze in Iceland is known as "Voelund's house."

Voelund's rage and despair increased with every new insult offered him by Nidud, and night and day he thought upon how he might obtain revenge. Nor did he forget to provide for his escape, and during the pauses of his labour he fashioned a pair of wings similar to those his wife had used as a Valkyr, which he intended to don as soon as his vengeance had been accomplished. One day the king came to visit his captive, and brought him the stolen sword that he might repair it; but Voelund cleverly substituted another weapon so exactly like the magic sword as to deceive the king when he came again to claim it. A few days later, Voelund enticed the king's sons into his smithy and slew them, after which he cunningly fashioned drinking vessels out of their skulls, and jewels out of their eyes and teeth, bestowing these upon their parents and sister.

"But their skulls Beneath the hair He in silver set, And to Nidud gave; And of their eyes Precious stones he formed, Which to Nidud's Wily wife he sent. But of the teeth Of the two Breast ornaments he made, And to Boedvild sent."

Lay of Voelund (Thorpe's tr.).

The royal family did not suspect whence they came; and so these gifts were joyfully accepted. As for the poor youths, it was believed that they had drifted out to sea and had been drowned.

Some time after this, Bodvild, wishing to have her ring repaired, also visited the smith's hut, where, while waiting, she unsuspectingly partook of a magic drug, which sent her to sleep and left her in Voelund's power. His last act of vengeance accomplished, Voelund immediately donned the wings which he had made in readiness for this day, and grasping his sword and ring he rose slowly in the air. Directing his flight to the palace, he perched there out of reach, and proclaimed his crimes to Nidud. The king, beside himself with rage, summoned Egil, Voelund's brother, who had also fallen into his power, and bade him use his marvellous skill as an archer to bring down the impudent bird. Obeying a signal from Voelund, Egil aimed for a protuberance under his wing where a bladder full of the young princes' blood was concealed, and the smith flew triumphantly away without hurt, declaring that Odin would give his sword to Sigmund—a prediction which was duly fulfilled.

Voelund then went to Alf-heim, where, if the legend is to be believed, he found his beloved wife, and lived happily again with her until the twilight of the gods.

But, even in Alf-heim, this clever smith continued to ply his craft, and various suits of impenetrable armour, which he is said to have fashioned, are described in later heroic poems. Besides Balmung and Joyeuse, Sigmund's and Charlemagne's celebrated swords, he is reported to have fashioned Miming for his son Heime, and many other remarkable blades.

"It is the mate of Miming Of all swerdes it is king, And Weland it wrought, Bitterfer it is hight."

Anglo-Saxon Poetry (Coneybeare's tr.).

There are countless other tales of swan maidens or Valkyrs, who are said to have consorted with mortals; but the most popular of all is that of Brunhild, the wife of Sigurd, a descendant of Sigmund and the most renowned of Northern heroes.

William Morris, in "The Land East of the Sun and West of the Moon," gives a fascinating version of another of these Norse legends. The story is amongst the most charming of the collection in "The Earthly Paradise."



Brunhild

The story of Brunhild is to be found in many forms. Some versions describe the heroine as the daughter of a king taken by Odin to serve in his Valkyr band, others as chief of the Valkyrs and daughter of Odin himself. In Richard Wagner's story, "The Ring of the Nibelung," the great musician presents a particularly attractive, albeit a more modern conception of the chief Battle-Maiden, and her disobedience to the command of Odin when sent to summon the youthful Siegmund from the side of his beloved Sieglinde to the Halls of the Blessed.



CHAPTER XIX: HEL

Loki's Offspring

Hel, goddess of death, was the daughter of Loki, god of evil, and of the giantess Angurboda, the portender of ill. She came into the world in a dark cave in Joetun-heim together with the serpent Ioermungandr and the terrible Fenris wolf, the trio being considered as the emblems of pain, sin, and death.

"Now Loki comes, cause of all ill! Men and AEsir curse him still. Long shall the gods deplore, Even till Time be o'er, His base fraud on Asgard's hill. While, deep in Jotunheim, most fell, Are Fenrir, Serpent, and Dread Hel, Pain, Sin, and Death, his children three, Brought up and cherished; thro' them he Tormentor of the world shall be."

Valhalla (J. C. Jones).

In due time Odin became aware of the terrible brood which Loki was cherishing, and resolved, as we have already seen, to banish them from the face of the earth. The serpent was therefore cast into the sea, where his writhing was supposed to cause the most terrible tempests; the wolf Fenris was secured in chains, thanks to the dauntless Tyr; and Hel or Hela, the goddess of death, was hurled into the depths of Nifl-heim, where Odin gave her power over nine worlds.

"Hela into Niflheim thou threw'st, And gav'st her nine unlighted worlds to rule, A queen, and empire over all the dead."

Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold).



Hel's Kingdom in Nifl-heim

This realm, which was supposed to be situated under the earth, could only be entered after a painful journey over the roughest roads in the cold, dark regions of the extreme North. The gate was so far from all human abode that even Hermod the swift, mounted upon Sleipnir, had to journey nine long nights ere he reached the river Gioell. This formed the boundary of Nifl-heim, over which was thrown a bridge of crystal arched with gold, hung on a single hair, and constantly guarded by the grim skeleton Moedgud, who made every spirit pay a toll of blood ere she would allow it to pass.

"The bridge of glass hung on a hair Thrown o'er the river terrible,— The Gioell, boundary of Hel. Now here the maiden Moedgud stood, Waiting to take the toll of blood,— A maiden horrible to sight, Fleshless, with shroud and pall bedight."

Valhalla (J. C. Jones).

The spirits generally rode or drove across this bridge on the horses or in the waggons which had been burned upon the funeral pyre with the dead to serve that purpose, and the Northern races were very careful to bind upon the feet of the departed a specially strong pair of shoes, called Hel-shoes, that they might not suffer during the long journey over rough roads. Soon after the Giallar bridge was passed, the spirit reached the Ironwood, where stood none but bare and iron-leafed trees, and, passing through it, reached Hel-gate, beside which the fierce, blood-stained dog Garm kept watch, cowering in a dark hole known as the Gnipa cave. This monster's rage could only be appeased by the offering of a Hel-cake, which never failed those who had ever given bread to the needy.

"Loud bays Garm Before the Gnipa cave."

Saemund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.).

Within the gate, amid the intense cold and impenetrable darkness, was heard the seething of the great cauldron Hvergelmir, the rolling of the glaciers in the Elivagar and other streams of Hel, among which were the Leipter, by which solemn oaths were sworn, and the Slid, in whose turbid waters naked swords continually rolled.

Further on in this gruesome place was Elvidner (misery), the hall of the goddess Hel, whose dish was Hunger. Her knife was Greed. "Idleness was the name of her man, Sloth of her maid, Ruin of her threshold, Sorrow of her bed, and Conflagration of her curtains."

"Elvidner was Hela's hall. Iron-barred, with massive wall; Horrible that palace tall! Hunger was her table bare; Waste, her knife; her bed, sharp Care; Burning Anguish spread her feast; Bleached bones arrayed each guest; Plague and Famine sang their runes, Mingled with Despair's harsh tunes. Misery and Agony E'er in Hel's abode shall be!"

Valhalla (J. C. Jones).

This goddess had many different abodes for the guests who daily came to her, for she received not only perjurers and criminals of all kinds, but also those who were unfortunate enough to die without shedding blood. To her realm also were consigned those who died of old age or disease—a mode of decease which was contemptuously called "straw death," as the beds of the people were generally of that material.

"Temper'd hard by frost, Tempest and toil their nerves, the sons of those Whose only terror was a bloodless death."

Thomson.



Ideas of the Future Life

Although the innocent were treated kindly by Hel, and enjoyed a state of negative bliss, it is no wonder that the inhabitants of the North shrank from the thought of visiting her cheerless abode. And while the men preferred to mark themselves with the spear point, to hurl themselves down from a precipice, or to be burned ere life was quite extinct, the women did not shrink from equally heroic measures. In the extremity of their sorrow, they did not hesitate to fling themselves down a mountain side, or fall upon the swords which were given them at their marriage, so that their bodies might be burned with those whom they loved, and their spirits released to join them in the bright home of the gods.

Further horrors, however, awaited those whose lives had been criminal or impure, these spirits being banished to Nastrond, the strand of corpses, where they waded in ice-cold streams of venom, through a cave made of wattled serpents, whose poisonous fangs were turned towards them. After suffering untold agonies there, they were washed down into the cauldron Hvergelmir, where the serpent Nidhug ceased for a moment gnawing the root of the tree Yggdrasil to feed upon their bones.

"A hall standing Far from the sun In Nastroend; Its doors are northward turned, Venom-drops fall In through its apertures; Entwined is that hall With serpents' backs. She there saw wading The sluggish streams Bloodthirsty men And perjurers, And him who the ear beguiles Of another's wife. There Nidhog sucks The corpses of the dead."

Saemund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.).



Pestilence and Famine

Hel herself was supposed occasionally to leave her dismal abode to range the earth upon her three-legged white horse, and in times of pestilence or famine, if a part of the inhabitants of a district escaped, she was said to use a rake, and when whole villages and provinces were depopulated, as in the case of the historical epidemic of the Black Death, it was said that she had ridden with a broom.

The Northern races further fancied that the spirits of the dead were sometimes allowed to revisit the earth and appear to their relatives, whose sorrow or joy affected them even after death, as is related in the Danish ballad of Aager and Else, where a dead lover bids his sweetheart smile, so that his coffin may be filled with roses instead of the clotted blood drops produced by her tears.

"'Listen now, my good Sir Aager! Dearest bridegroom, all I crave Is to know how it goes with thee In that lonely place, the grave.'

"'Every time that thou rejoicest, And art happy in thy mind, Are my lonely grave's recesses All with leaves of roses lined.'

"'Every time that, love, thou grievest, And dost shed the briny flood, Are my lonely grave's recesses Filled with black and loathsome blood.'"

Ballad of Aager and Else (Longfellow's tr.).



CHAPTER XX: AEGIR

The God of the Sea

Besides Nioerd and Mimir, who were both ocean divinities, the one representing the sea near the coast and the other the primaeval ocean whence all things were supposed to have sprung, the Northern races recognised another sea-ruler, called AEgir or Hler, who dwelt either in the cool depths of his liquid realm or had his abode on the Island of Lessoe, in the Cattegat, or Hlesey.

"Beneath the watery dome, With crystalline splendour, In radiant grandeur, Upreared the sea-god's home. More dazzling than foam of the waves E'er glimmered and gleamed thro' deep caves The glistening sands of its floor, Like some placid lake rippled o'er."

Valhalla (J. C. Jones).

AEgir (the sea), like his brothers Kari (the air) and Loki (fire), is supposed to have belonged to an older dynasty of the gods, for he ranked neither with the AEsir, the Vanas, the giants, dwarfs, or elves, but was considered omnipotent within his realm.

He was supposed to occasion and quiet the great tempests which swept over the deep, and was generally represented as a gaunt old man, with long white beard and hair, and clawlike fingers ever clutching convulsively, as though he longed to have all things within his grasp. Whenever he appeared above the waves, it was only to pursue and overturn vessels, and to greedily drag them to the bottom of the sea, a vocation in which he was thought to take fiendish delight.



The Goddess Ran

AEgir was mated with his sister, the goddess Ran, whose name means "robber," and who was as cruel, greedy, and insatiable as her husband. Her favourite pastime was to lurk near dangerous rocks, whither she enticed mariners, and there spread her net, her most prized possession, when, having entangled the men in its meshes and broken their vessels on the jagged cliffs, she would calmly draw them down into her cheerless realm.

"In the deep sea caves By the sounding shore, In the dashing waves When the wild storms roar, In her cold green bowers In the Northern fiords, She lurks and she glowers, She grasps and she hoards, And she spreads her strong net for her prey."

Story of Siegfried (Baldwin).

Ran was considered the goddess of death for all who perished at sea, and the Northern nations fancied that she entertained the drowned in her coral caves, where her couches were spread to receive them, and where the mead flowed freely as in Valhalla. The goddess was further supposed to have a great affection for gold, which was called the "flame of the sea," and was used to illuminate her halls. This belief originated with the sailors, and sprang from the striking phosphorescent gleam of the waves. To win Ran's good graces, the Northmen were careful to hide some gold about them whenever any special danger threatened them on the sea.

"Gold, on sweetheart ramblings, Pow'rful is and pleasant; Who goes empty-handed Down to sea-blue Ran, Cold her kisses strike, and Fleeting her embrace is— But we ocean's bride be- Troth with purest gold."

Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson).



The Waves

AEgir and Ran had nine beautiful daughters, the Waves, or billow-maidens, whose snowy arms and bosoms, long golden hair, deep-blue eyes, and willowy, sensuous forms were fascinating in the extreme. These maidens delighted in sporting over the surface of their father's vast domain, clad lightly in transparent blue, white, or green veils. They were very moody and capricious, however, varying from playful to sullen and apathetic moods, and at times exciting one another almost to madness, tearing their hair and veils, flinging themselves recklessly upon their hard beds, the rocks, chasing one another with frantic haste, and shrieking aloud with joy or despair. But they seldom came out to play unless their brother, the Wind, were abroad, and according to his mood they were gentle and playful, or rough and boisterous.

The Waves were generally supposed to go about in triplets, and were often said to play around the ships of vikings whom they favoured, smoothing away every obstacle from their course, and helping them to reach speedily their goals.

"And AEger's daughters, in blue veils dight, The helm leap round, and urge it on its flight."

Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson).



AEgir's Brewing Kettle

To the Anglo-Saxons the sea-god AEgir was known by the name of Eagor, and whenever an unusually large wave came thundering towards the shore, the sailors were wont to cry, as the Trent boatmen still do, "Look out, Eagor is coming!" He was also known by the name of Hler (the shelterer) among the Northern nations, and of Gymir (the concealer), because he was always ready to hide things in the depths of his realm, and could be depended upon not to reveal the secrets entrusted to his care. And, because the waters of the sea were frequently said to seethe and hiss, the ocean was often called AEgir's brewing kettle or vat.

The god's two principal servants were Elde and Funfeng, emblems of the phosphorescence of the sea; they were noted for their quickness and they invariably waited upon the guests whom he invited to his banquets in the depths of the sea. AEgir sometimes left his realm to visit the AEsir in Asgard, where he was always royally entertained, and he delighted in Bragi's many tales of the adventures and achievements of the gods. Excited by these narratives, as also by the sparkling mead which accompanied them, the god on one occasion ventured to invite the AEsir to celebrate the harvest feast with him in Hlesey, where he promised to entertain them in his turn.



Thor and Hymir

Surprised at this invitation, one of the gods ventured to remind AEgir that they were accustomed to dainty fare; whereupon the god of the sea declared that as far as eating was concerned they need be in no anxiety, as he was sure that he could cater for the most fastidious appetites; but he confessed that he was not so confident about drink, as his brewing kettle was rather small. Hearing this, Thor immediately volunteered to procure a suitable kettle, and set out with Tyr to obtain it. The two gods journeyed east of the Elivagar in Thor's goat chariot, and leaving this at the house of the peasant Egil, Thialfi's father, they wended their way on foot to the dwelling of the giant Hymir, who was known to own a kettle one mile deep and proportionately wide.

"There dwells eastward Of Elivagar The all-wise Hymir, At heaven's end. My sire, fierce of mood, A kettle owns, A capacious cauldron, A rast in depth."

Saemund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.).

Only the women were at home, however, and Tyr recognised in the elder—an ugly old hag with nine hundred heads—his own grandmother; while the younger, a beautiful young giantess, was, it appeared, his mother, and she received her son and his companion hospitably, and gave them to drink.

After learning their errand, Tyr's mother bade the visitors hide under some huge kettles, which rested upon a beam at the end of the hall, for her husband Hymir was very hasty and often slew his would-be guests with a single baleful glance. The gods quickly followed her advice, and no sooner were they concealed than the old giant Hymir came in. When his wife told him that visitors had come, he frowned so portentously, and flashed such a wrathful look towards their hiding-place, that the rafter split and the kettles fell with a crash, and, except the largest, were all dashed to pieces.

"In shivers flew the pillar At the Joetun's glance; The beam was first Broken in two. Eight kettles fell, But only one of them, A hard-hammered cauldron, Whole from the column."

Saemund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.).

The giant's wife, however, prevailed upon her husband to welcome Tyr and Thor, and he slew three oxen for their refection; but great was his dismay to see the thunder-god eat two of these for his supper. Muttering that he would have to go fishing early the next morning to secure a breakfast for so voracious a guest, the giant retired to rest, and when at dawn the next day he went down to the shore, he was joined by Thor, who said that he had come to help him. The giant bade him secure his own bait, whereupon Thor coolly slew his host's largest ox, Himinbrioter (heaven-breaker), and cutting off its head, he embarked with it and proceeded to row far out to sea. In vain Hymir protested that his usual fishing-ground had been reached, and that they might encounter the terrible Midgard snake were they to venture any farther; Thor persistently rowed on, until he fancied they were directly above this monster.

"On the dark bottom of the great salt lake, Imprisoned lay the giant snake, With naught his sullen sleep to break."

Thor's Fishing, Oehlenschlaeger (Pigott's tr.).

Baiting his powerful hook with the ox head, Thor angled for Ioermungandr, while the giant meantime drew up two whales, which seemed to him to be enough for an early morning meal. He was about to propose to return, therefore, when Thor suddenly felt a jerk, and began pulling as hard as he could, for he knew by the resistance of his prey, and the terrible storm created by its frenzied writhings, that he had hooked the Midgard snake. In his determined efforts to force the snake to rise to the surface, Thor braced his feet so strongly against the bottom of the boat that he went through it and stood on the bed of the sea.

After an indescribable struggle, the monster's terrible venom-breathing head appeared, and Thor, seizing his hammer, was about to annihilate it when the giant, frightened by the proximity of Ioermungandr, and fearing lest the boat should sink and he should become the monster's prey, cut the fishing-line, and thus allowed the snake to drop back like a stone to the bottom of the sea.

"The knife prevails: far down beneath the main The serpent, spent with toil and pain, To the bottom sank again."

Thor's Fishing, Oehlenschlaeger (Pigott's tr.).

Angry with Hymir for his inopportune interference, Thor dealt him a blow with his hammer which knocked him overboard; but Hymir, undismayed, waded ashore, and met the god as he returned to the beach. Hymir then took both whales, his spoil of the sea, upon his back, to carry them to the house; and Thor, wishing also to show his strength, shouldered boat, oars, and fishing tackle, and followed him.

Breakfast being disposed of, Hymir challenged Thor to prove his strength by breaking his beaker; but although the thunder-god threw it with irresistible force against stone pillars and walls, it remained whole and was not even bent. In obedience to a whisper from Tyr's mother, however, Thor suddenly hurled the vessel against the giant's forehead, the only substance tougher than itself, when it fell shattered to the ground. Hymir, having thus tested the might of Thor, told him he could have the kettle which the two gods had come to seek, but Tyr tried to lift it in vain, and Thor could raise it from the floor only after he had drawn his belt of strength to the very last hole.

"Tyr twice assayed To move the vessel, Yet at each time Stood the kettle fast. Then Modi's father By the brim grasped it, And trod through The dwelling's floor."

Lay of Hymir (Thorpe's tr.)

The wrench with which he finally pulled it up did great damage to the giant's house and his feet broke through the floor. As Tyr and Thor were departing, the latter with the huge pot clapped on his head in place of a hat, Hymir summoned his brother frost giants, and proposed that they should pursue and slay their inveterate foe. Turning round, Thor suddenly became aware of their pursuit, and, hurling Mioelnir repeatedly at the giants, he slew them all ere they could overtake him. Tyr and Thor then resumed their journey back to AEgir, carrying the kettle in which he was to brew ale for the harvest feast.

The physical explanation of this myth is, of course, a thunder storm (Thor), in conflict with the raging sea (the Midgard snake), and the breaking up of the polar ice (Hymir's goblet and floor) in the heat of summer.

The gods now arrayed themselves in festive attire and proceeded joyfully to AEgir's feast, and ever after they were wont to celebrate the harvest home in his coral caves.

"Then Vans and AEsir, mighty gods, Of earth and air, and Asgard, lords,— Advancing with each goddess fair, A brilliant retinue most rare,— Attending mighty Odin, swept Up wave-worn aisle in radiant march."

Valhalla (J. C. Jones).



Unloved Divinities

AEgir, as we have seen, ruled the sea with the help of the treacherous Ran. Both of these divinities were considered cruel by the Northern nations, who had much to suffer from the sea, which, surrounding them on all sides, ran far into the heart of their countries through the numerous fiords, and often swallowed the ships of their vikings, with all their warrior crews.



Other Divinities of the Sea

Besides these principal divinities of the sea, the Northern nations believed in mermen and mermaids, and many stories are related of mermaids who divested themselves for a brief while of swan plumage or seal-garments, which they left upon the beach to be found by mortals who were thus able to compel the fair maidens to remain on land.

"She came through the waves when the fair moon shone (Drift o' the wave and foam o' the sea); She came where I walked on the sands alone, With a heart as light as a heart may be."

L. E. R.

There were also malignant marine monsters known as Nicors, from whose name has been derived the proverbial Old Nick. Many of the lesser water divinities had fish tails; the females bore the name of Undines, and the males of Stromkarls, Nixies, Necks, or Neckar.

"Where in the marisches boometh the bittern, Nicker the Soul-less sits with his ghittern, Sits inconsolable, friendless and foeless, Wailing his destiny, Nicker the Soul-less."

From Brother Fabian's Manuscript.

In the middle ages these water spirits were believed sometimes to leave their native streams, to appear at village dances, where they were recognised by the wet hem of their garments. They often sat beside the flowing brook or river, playing on a harp, or singing alluring songs while combing out their long golden or green hair.

"The Neck here his harp in the glass castle plays, And mermaidens comb out their green hair always, And bleach here their shining white clothes."

Stagnelius (Keightley's tr.).

The Nixies, Undines, and Stromkarls were particularly gentle and lovable beings, and were very anxious to obtain repeated assurances of their ultimate salvation.

Many stories are told of priests or children meeting them playing by a stream, and taunting them with future damnation, which threat never failed to turn the joyful music into pitiful wails. Often priest or children, discovering their mistake, and touched by the agony of their victims, would hasten back to the stream and assure the green-toothed water sprites of future redemption, when they invariably resumed their happy strains.

"Know you the Nixies, gay and fair? Their eyes are black, and green their hair— They lurk in sedgy shores."

Mathisson.



River Nymphs

Besides Elf or Elb, the water sprite who gave its name to the Elbe River in Germany, the Neck, from whom the Neckar derives its name, and old Father Rhine, with his numerous daughters (tributary streams), the most famous of all the lesser water divinities is the Lorelei, the siren maiden who sits upon the Lorelei rock near St. Goar, on the Rhine, and whose alluring song has enticed many a mariner to death. The legends concerning this siren are very numerous indeed, one of the most ancient being as follows:



Legends of the Lorelei

Lorelei was an immortal, a water nymph, daughter of Father Rhine; during the day she dwelt in the cool depths of the river bed, but late at night she would appear in the moonlight, sitting aloft upon a pinnacle of rock, in full view of all who passed up or down the stream. At times, the evening breeze wafted some of the notes of her song to the boatmen's ears, when, forgetting time and place in listening to these enchanting melodies, they drifted upon the sharp and jagged rocks, where they invariably perished.

"Above the maiden sitteth, A wondrous form, and fair; With jewels bright she plaiteth Her shining golden hair: With comb of gold prepares it, The task with song beguiled; A fitful burden bears it— That melody so wild.

"The boatman on the river Lists to the song, spell-bound; Oh! what shall him deliver From danger threat'ning round? The waters deep have caught them, Both boat and boatman brave; 'Tis Loreley's song hath brought them Beneath the foaming wave."

Song, Heine (Selcher's tr.).

One person only is said to have seen the Lorelei close by. This was a young fisherman from Oberwesel, who met her every evening by the riverside, and spent a few delightful hours with her, drinking in her beauty and listening to her entrancing song. Tradition had it that ere they parted the Lorelei pointed out the places where the youth should cast his nets on the morrow—instructions which he always obeyed, and which invariably brought him success.

One night the young fisherman was seen going towards the river, but as he never returned search was made for him. No clue to his whereabouts being found, the credulous Teutons finally reported that the Lorelei had dragged him down to her coral caves that she might enjoy his companionship for ever.

According to another version, the Lorelei, with her entrancing strains from the craggy rocks, lured so many fishermen to a grave in the depths of Rhine, that an armed force was once sent at nightfall to surround and seize her. But the water nymph laid such a powerful spell upon the captain and his men that they could move neither hand nor foot. While they stood motionless around her, the Lorelei divested herself of her ornaments, and cast them into the waves below; then, chanting a spell, she lured the waters to the top of the crag upon which she was perched, and to the wonder of the soldiers the waves enclosed a sea-green chariot drawn by white-maned steeds, and the nymph sprang lightly into this and the magic equipage was instantly lost to view. A few moments later the Rhine subsided to its usual level, the spell was broken, and the men recovered power of motion, and retreated to tell how their efforts had been baffled. Since then, however, the Lorelei has not been seen, and the peasants declare that she still resents the insult offered her and will never again leave her coral caves.



CHAPTER XXI: BALDER

The Best Loved

To Odin and Frigga, we are told, were born twin sons as dissimilar in character and physical appearance as it was possible for two children to be. Hodur, god of darkness, was sombre, taciturn, and blind, like the obscurity of sin, which he was supposed to symbolise, while his brother Balder, the beautiful, was worshipped as the pure and radiant god of innocence and light. From his snowy brow and golden locks seemed to radiate beams of sunshine which gladdened the hearts of gods and men, by whom he was equally beloved.

"Of all the twelve round Odin's throne, Balder, the Beautiful, alone, The Sun-god, good, and pure, and bright, Was loved by all, as all love light."

Valhalla (J. C. Jones).

The youthful Balder attained his full growth with marvellous rapidity, and was early admitted to the council of the gods. He took up his abode in the palace of Breidablik, whose silver roof rested upon golden pillars, and whose purity was such that nothing common or unclean was ever allowed within its precincts, and here he lived in perfect unity with his young wife Nanna (blossom), the daughter of Nip (bud), a beautiful and charming goddess.

The god of light was well versed in the science of runes, which were carved on his tongue; he knew the various virtues of simples, one of which, the camomile, was called "Balder's brow," because its flower was as immaculately pure as his forehead. The only thing hidden from Balder's radiant eyes was the perception of his own ultimate fate.

"His own house Breidablik, on whose columns Balder graved The enchantments that recall the dead to life. For wise he was, and many curious arts, Postures of runes, and healing herbs he knew; Unhappy! but that art he did not know, To keep his own life safe, and see the sun."

Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold).



Balder's Dream

As it was so natural for Balder the beautiful to be smiling and happy, the gods were greatly troubled when on a day they began to notice a change in his bearing. Gradually the light died out of his blue eyes, a careworn look came into his face, and his step grew heavy and slow. Odin and Frigga, seeing their beloved son's evident depression, tenderly implored him to reveal the cause of his silent grief. Balder, yielding at last to their anxious entreaties, confessed that his slumbers, instead of being peaceful and restful as of yore, had been strangely troubled of late by dark and oppressive dreams, which, although he could not clearly remember them when he awoke, constantly haunted him with a vague feeling of fear.

"To that god his slumber Was most afflicting; His auspicious dreams Seemed departed."

Lay of Vegtam (Thorpe's tr.).

When Odin and Frigga heard this, they were very uneasy, but declared that nothing would harm their universally beloved son. Nevertheless, when the anxious parents further talked the matter over, they confessed that they also were oppressed by strange forebodings, and, coming at last to believe that Balder's life was really threatened, they proceeded to take measures to avert the danger.

Frigga sent her servants in every direction, with strict charge to prevail upon all living creatures, all plants, metals, stones—in fact, every animate and inanimate thing—to register a solemn vow not to harm Balder. All creation readily took the oath, for there was nothing on earth which did not love the radiant god. So the servants returned to Frigga, telling her that all had been duly sworn save the mistletoe, growing upon the oak stem at the gate of Valhalla, and this, they added, was such a puny, inoffensive thing that no harm could be feared from it.

"On a course they resolved: That they would send To every being, Assurance to solicit, Balder not to harm. All species swore Oaths to spare him; Frigg received all Their vows and compacts."

Saemund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.).

Frigga now resumed her spinning in great content, for she felt assured that no harm could come to the child she loved above all.



The Vala's Prophecy

Odin, in the meantime, had resolved to consult one of the dead Vala or prophetesses. Mounted upon his eight-footed steed Sleipnir, he rode over the tremulous bridge Bifroest and over the weary road which leads to Giallar and the entrance of Nifl-heim, where, passing through the Helgate and by the dog Garm, he penetrated into Hel's dark abode.

"Uprose the king of men with speed, And saddled straight his coal-black steed; Down the yawning steep he rode, That leads to Hela's drear abode."

Descent of Odin (Gray).

Odin saw to his surprise that a feast was being spread in this dark realm, and that the couches had been covered with tapestry and rings of gold, as if some highly honoured guest were expected. But he hurried on without pausing, until he reached the spot where the Vala had rested undisturbed for many a year, when he began solemnly to chant a magic spell and to trace the runes which had the power of raising the dead.

"Thrice pronounc'd, in accents dread, The thrilling verse that wakes the dead: Till from out the hollow ground Slowly breath'd a sullen sound."

Descent of Odin (Gray).

Suddenly the tomb opened, and the prophetess slowly rose, inquiring who had dared thus to trouble her long rest. Odin, not wishing her to know that he was the mighty father of gods and men, replied that he was Vegtam, son of Valtam, and that he had awakened her to inquire for whom Hel was spreading her couches and preparing a festive meal. In hollow tones, the prophetess confirmed all his fears by telling him that the expected guest was Balder, who was destined to be slain by Hodur, his brother, the blind god of darkness.

"Hodur will hither His glorious brother send; He of Balder will The slayer be, And Odin's son Of life bereave. By compulsion I have spoken; Now I will be silent."

Saemund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.).

Despite the Vala's evident reluctance to speak further, Odin was not yet satisfied, and he prevailed upon her to tell him who would avenge the murdered god and call his slayer to account. For revenge and retaliation were considered as a sacred duty by the races of the North.

Then the prophetess told him, as Rossthiof had already predicted, that Rinda, the earth-goddess, would bear a son to Odin, and that Vali, as this child would be named, would neither wash his face nor comb his hair until he had avenged upon Hodur the death of Balder.

"In the caverns of the west, By Odin's fierce embrace comprest, A wondrous boy shall Rinda bear, Who ne'er shall comb his raven hair, Nor wash his visage in the stream, Nor see the sun's departing beam, Till he on Hoder's corse shall smile Flaming on the fun'ral pile."

Descent of Odin (Gray).

When the reluctant Vala had thus spoken, Odin next asked: "Who would refuse to weep at Balder's death?" This incautious question showed a knowledge of the future which no mortal could possess, and immediately revealed to the Vala the identity of her visitor. Therefore, refusing to speak another word, she sank back into the silence of the tomb, declaring that none would be able to lure her out again until the end of the world was come.

"Hie thee hence, and boast at home, That never shall inquirer come To break my iron sleep again, Till Lok has burst his tenfold chain; Never, till substantial Night Has reassum'd her ancient right: Till wrapt in flames, in ruin hurl'd, Sinks the fabric of the world."

Descent of Odin (Gray).

Odin having learned the decrees of Orlog (fate), which he knew could not be set aside, now remounted his steed, and sadly wended his way back to Asgard, thinking of the time, not far distant, when his beloved son would no more be seen in the heavenly abodes, and when the light of his presence would have vanished for ever.

On entering Glads-heim, however, Odin was somewhat reassured by the intelligence, promptly conveyed to him by Frigga, that all things under the sun had promised that they would not harm Balder, and feeling convinced that if nothing would slay their beloved son he must surely continue to gladden gods and men with his presence, he cast care aside and resigned himself to the pleasures of the festive board.



The Gods at Play

The playground of the gods was situated on the green plain of Ida, and was called Idavold. Here the gods would resort when in sportive mood, and their favourite game was to throw their golden disks, which they could cast with great skill. They had returned to this wonted pastime with redoubled zest since the cloud which had oppressed their spirits had been dispersed by the precautions of Frigga. Wearied at last, however, of the accustomed sport, they bethought them of a new game. They had learned that Balder could not be harmed by any missile, and so they amused themselves by casting all manner of weapons, stones, etc., at him, certain that no matter how cleverly they tried, and how accurately they aimed, the objects, having sworn not to injure him, would either glance aside or fall short. This new amusement proved to be so fascinating that soon all the gods gathered around Balder, greeting each new failure to hurt him with prolonged shouts of laughter.



The Death of Balder

These bursts of merriment excited the curiosity of Frigga, who sat spinning in Fensalir; and seeing an old woman pass by her dwelling, she bade her pause and tell what the gods were doing to provoke such great hilarity. The old woman was none other than Loki in disguise, and he answered Frigga that the gods were throwing stones and other missiles, blunt and sharp, at Balder, who stood smiling and unharmed in their midst, challenging them to touch him.

The goddess smiled, and resumed her work, saying that it was quite natural that nothing should harm Balder, as all things loved the light, of which he was the emblem, and had solemnly sworn not to injure him. Loki, the personification of fire, was greatly chagrined upon hearing this, for he was jealous of Balder, the sun, who so entirely eclipsed him and who was generally beloved, while he was feared and avoided as much as possible; but he cleverly concealed his vexation, and inquired of Frigga whether she were quite sure that all objects had joined the league.

Frigga proudly answered that she had received the solemn oath of all things, a harmless little parasite, the mistletoe, which grew on the oak near Valhalla's gate, only excepted, and this was too small and weak to be feared. This information was all that Loki wanted, and bidding adieu to Frigga he hobbled off. As soon as he was safely out of sight, however, he resumed his wonted form and hastened to Valhalla, where, at the gate, he found the oak and mistletoe as indicated by Frigga. Then by the exercise of magic arts he imparted to the parasite a size and hardness quite unnatural to it.

From the wooden stem thus produced he deftly fashioned a shaft with which he hastened back to Idavold, where the gods were still hurling missiles at Balder, Hodur alone leaning mournfully against a tree the while, and taking no part in the game. Carelessly Loki approached the blind god, and assuming an appearance of interest, he inquired the cause of his melancholy, at the same time artfully insinuating that pride and indifference prevented him from participating in the sport. In answer to these remarks, Hodur pleaded that only his blindness deterred him from taking part in the new game, and when Loki put the mistletoe-shaft in his hand, and led him into the midst of the circle, indicating the direction of the novel target, Hodur threw his shaft boldly. But to his dismay, instead of the loud laughter which he expected, a shuddering cry of horror fell upon his ear, for Balder the beautiful had fallen to the ground, pierced by the fatal mistletoe.

"So on the floor lay Balder dead; and round Lay thickly strewn swords, axes, darts, and spears, Which all the Gods in sport had idly thrown At Balder, whom no weapon pierced or clove; But in his breast stood fixed the fatal bough Of mistletoe, which Lok, the Accuser, gave To Hoder, and unwitting Hoder threw— 'Gainst that alone had Balder's life no charm."

Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold).

In dire anxiety the gods crowded around their beloved companion, but alas! life was quite extinct, and all their efforts to revive the fallen sun-god were unavailing. Inconsolable at their loss, they now turned angrily upon Hodur, whom they would there and then have slain had they not been restrained by the law of the gods that no wilful deed of violence should desecrate their peace-steads. The sound of their loud lamentation brought the goddesses in hot haste to the dreadful scene, and when Frigga saw that her darling was dead, she passionately implored the gods to go to Nifl-heim and entreat Hel to release her victim, for the earth could not exist happily without him.



Hermod's Errand

As the road was rough and painful in the extreme, none of the gods would volunteer at first to go; but when Frigga promised that she and Odin would reward the messenger by loving him above all the AEsir, Hermod signified his readiness to execute the commission. To enable him to do so, Odin lent him Sleipnir, and the noble steed, who was not wont to allow any but Odin upon his back, set off without demur upon the dark road which his hoofs had beaten twice before.

Meantime, Odin caused the body of Balder to be removed to Breidablik, and he directed the gods to go to the forest and cut down huge pines wherewith to build a worthy pyre.

"But when the Gods were to the forest gone, Hermod led Sleipnir from Valhalla forth And saddled him; before that, Sleipnir brook'd No meaner hand than Odin's on his mane, On his broad back no lesser rider bore; Yet docile now he stood at Hermod's side, Arching his neck, and glad to be bestrode, Knowing the God they went to seek, how dear. But Hermod mounted him, and sadly fared In silence up the dark untravell'd road Which branches from the north of Heaven, and went All day; and daylight waned, and night came on. And all that night he rode, and journey'd so, Nine days, nine nights, toward the northern ice, Through valleys deep-engulph'd by roaring streams. And on the tenth morn he beheld the bridge Which spans with golden arches Giall's stream, And on the bridge a damsel watching, arm'd, In the straight passage, at the further end, Where the road issues between walling rocks."

Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold).



The Funeral Pyre

While Hermod was speeding along the cheerless road which led to Nifl-heim, the gods hewed and carried down to the shore a vast amount of fuel, which they piled upon the deck of Balder's dragon-ship, Ringhorn, constructing an elaborate funeral pyre. According to custom, this was decorated with tapestry hangings, garlands of flowers, vessels and weapons of all kinds, golden rings, and countless objects of value, ere the immaculate corpse, richly attired, was brought and laid upon it.

One by one, the gods now drew near to take a last farewell of their beloved companion, and as Nanna bent over him, her loving heart broke, and she fell lifeless by his side. Seeing this, the gods reverently laid her beside her husband, that she might accompany him even in death; and after they had slain his horse and hounds and twined the pyre with thorns, the emblems of sleep, Odin, last of the gods, drew near.

In token of affection for the dead and of sorrow for his loss, all had lain their most precious possessions upon his pyre, and Odin, bending down, now added to the offerings his magic ring Draupnir. It was noted by the assembled gods that he was whispering in his dead son's ear, but none were near enough to hear what word he said.

These sad preliminaries ended, the gods now prepared to launch the ship, but found that the heavy load of fuel and treasures resisted their combined efforts and they could not make the vessel stir an inch. The mountain giants, witnessing the scene from afar, and noticing their quandary, now drew near and said that they knew of a giantess called Hyrrokin, who dwelt in Joetun-heim, and was strong enough to launch the vessel without any other aid. The gods therefore bade one of the storm giants hasten off to summon Hyrrokin, and she soon appeared, mounted upon a gigantic wolf, which she guided by a bridle made of writhing snakes. Riding down to the shore, the giantess dismounted and haughtily signified her readiness to give the required aid, if in the meantime the gods would take charge of her steed. Odin immediately despatched four of his maddest Berserkers to hold the wolf; but, in spite of their phenomenal strength, they could not restrain the monstrous creature until the giantess had thrown it down and bound it fast.

Hyrrokin, seeing that now they would be able to manage her refractory steed, strode along the strand to where, high up from the water's edge, lay Balder's mighty ship Ringhorn.

"Seventy ells and four extended On the grass the vessel's keel; High above it, gilt and splendid, Rose the figure-head ferocious With its crest of steel."

The Saga of King Olaf (Longfellow).

Setting her shoulder against its stern, with a supreme effort she sent it with a rush into the water. Such was the weight of the mass, however, and the rapidity with which it shot down into the sea, that the earth shook as if from an earthquake, and the rollers on which the ship glided caught fire from the friction. The unexpected shock almost caused the gods to lose their balance, and this so angered Thor that he raised his hammer and would have slain the giantess had he not been restrained by his companions. Easily appeased, as usual—for Thor's temper, although quickly roused, was evanescent—he now boarded the vessel once more to consecrate the funeral pyre with his sacred hammer. As he was performing this ceremony, the dwarf Lit provokingly stumbled into his way, whereupon Thor, who had not entirely recovered his equanimity, kicked him into the fire, which he had just kindled with a thorn, and the dwarf was burned to ashes with the bodies of the divine pair.

The great ship now drifted out to sea, and the flames from the pyre presented a magnificent spectacle, which assumed a greater glory with every passing moment, until, when the vessel neared the western horizon, it seemed as if sea and sky were on fire. Sadly the gods watched the glowing ship and its precious freight, until suddenly it plunged into the waves and disappeared; nor did they turn aside and return to Asgard until the last spark of light had vanished, and the world, in token of mourning for Balder the good, was enveloped in a mantle of darkness.

"Soon with a roaring rose the mighty fire, And the pile crackled; and between the logs Sharp quivering tongues of flame shot out, and leapt Curling and darting, higher, until they lick'd The summit of the pile, the dead, the mast, And ate the shrivelling sails; but still the ship Drove on, ablaze above her hull with fire. And the gods stood upon the beach, and gazed; And while they gazed, the sun went lurid down Into the smoke-wrapt sea, and night came on. Then the wind fell with night, and there was calm; But through the dark they watch'd the burning ship Still carried o'er the distant waters, on Farther and farther, like an eye of fire. So show'd in the far darkness, Balder's pile; But fainter, as the stars rose high, it flared; The bodies were consumed, ash choked the pile. And as, in a decaying winter fire, A charr'd log, falling, makes a shower of sparks— So, with a shower of sparks, the pile fell in, Reddening the sea around; and all was dark."

Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold).



Hermod's Quest

Sadly the gods entered Asgard, where no sounds of merriment or feasting greeted the ear, for all hearts were filled with anxious concern for the end of all things which was felt to be imminent. And truly the thought of the terrible Fimbul-winter, which was to herald their death, was one well calculated to disquiet the gods.

Frigga alone cherished hope, and she watched anxiously for the return of her messenger, Hermod the swift, who, meanwhile, had ridden over the tremulous bridge, and along the dark Hel-way, until, on the tenth night, he had crossed the rushing tide of the river Gioell. Here he was challenged by Moedgud, who inquired why the Giallar-bridge trembled more beneath his horse's tread than when a whole army passed, and asked why he, a living rider, was attempting to penetrate into the dreaded realm of Hel.

"Who art thou on thy black and fiery horse, Under whose hoofs the bridge o'er Giall's stream Rumbles and shakes? Tell me thy race and home. But yestermorn five troops of dead pass'd by, Bound on their way below to Hela's realm, Nor shook the bridge so much as thou alone. And thou hast flesh and colour on thy cheeks, Like men who live, and draw the vital air; Nor look'st thou pale and wan, like man deceased, Souls bound below, my daily passers here."

Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold).

Hermod explained to Moedgud the reason of his coming, and, having ascertained that Balder and Nanna had ridden over the bridge before him, he hastened on, until he came to the gate, which rose forbiddingly before him.

Nothing daunted by this barrier, Hermod dismounted on the smooth ice, and tightening the girths of his saddle, remounted, and burying his spurs deep into Sleipnir's sleek sides, he put him to a prodigious leap, which landed them safely on the other side of Hel-gate.

"Thence on he journey'd o'er the fields of ice Still north, until he met a stretching wall Barring his way, and in the wall a grate. Then he dismounted, and drew tight the girths, On the smooth ice, of Sleipnir, Odin's horse, And made him leap the grate, and came within."

Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold).

Riding onward, Hermod came at last to Hel's banqueting-hall, where he found Balder, pale and dejected, lying upon a couch, his wife Nanna beside him, gazing fixedly at a beaker of mead, which apparently he had no heart to quaff.



The Condition of Balder's Release

In vain Hermod informed his brother that he had come to redeem him; Balder shook his head sadly, saying that he knew he must remain in his cheerless abode until the last day should come, but he implored Hermod to take Nanna back with him, as the home of the shades was no place for such a bright and beautiful creature. But when Nanna heard this request she clung more closely to her husband's side, vowing that nothing would ever induce her to part from him, and that she would stay with him for ever, even in Nifl-heim.

The long night was spent in close conversation, ere Hermod sought Hel and implored her to release Balder. The churlish goddess listened in silence to his request, and declared finally that she would allow her victim to depart provided that all things animate and inanimate would show their sorrow for his loss by shedding tears.

"Come then! if Balder was so dear beloved, And this is true, and such a loss is Heaven's— Hear, how to Heaven may Balder be restored. Show me through all the world the signs of grief! Fails but one thing to grieve, here Balder stops! Let all that lives and moves upon the earth Weep him, and all that is without life weep; Let Gods, men, brutes, beweep him; plants and stones. So shall I know the lost was dear indeed, And bend my heart, and give him back to Heaven."

Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold).

This answer was full of encouragement, for all Nature mourned the loss of Balder, and surely there was nothing in all creation which would withhold the tribute of a tear. So Hermod cheerfully made his way out of Hel's dark realm, carrying with him the ring Draupnir, which Balder sent back to Odin, an embroidered carpet from Nanna for Frigga, and a ring for Fulla.



The Return of Hermod

The assembled gods crowded anxiously round Hermod as soon as he returned, and when he had delivered his messages and gifts, the AEsir sent heralds to every part of the world to bid all things animate and inanimate weep for Balder.

"Go quickly forth through all the world, and pray All living and unliving things to weep Balder, if haply he may thus be won!"

Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold).

North, South, East and West rode the heralds, and as they passed tears fell from every plant and tree, so that the ground was saturated with moisture, and metals and stones, despite their hard hearts, wept too.

The way at last led back to Asgard, and by the road-side was a dark cave, in which the messengers saw, crouching, the form of a giantess named Thok, whom some mythologists suppose to have been Loki in disguise. When she was called upon to shed a tear, she mocked the heralds, and fleeing into the dark recesses of her cave, she declared that no tear should fall from her eyes, and that, for all she cared, Hel might retain her prey for ever.

"Thok she weepeth With dry tears For Balder's death— Neither in life, nor yet in death, Gave he me gladness. Let Hel keep her prey."

Elder Edda (Howitt's version).

As soon as the returning messengers arrived in Asgard, the gods crowded round them to learn the result of their mission; but their faces, all aglow with the joy of anticipation, grew dark with despair when they heard that one creature had refused the tribute of tears, wherefore they would behold Balder in Asgard no more.

"Balder, the Beautiful, shall ne'er From Hel return to upper air! Betrayed by Loki, twice betrayed, The prisoner of Death is made; Ne'er shall he 'scape the place of doom Till fatal Ragnarok be come!"

Valhalla (J. C. Jones).



Vali the Avenger

The decrees of fate had not yet been fully consummated, and the final act of the tragedy remains to be briefly stated.

We have already seen how Odin succeeded after many rebuffs in securing the consent of Rinda to their union, and that the son born of this marriage was destined to avenge the death of Balder. The advent of this wondrous infant now took place, and Vali the Avenger, as he was called, entered Asgard on the day of his birth, and on that very same day he slew Hodur with an arrow from a bundle which he seems to have carried for the purpose. Thus the murderer of Balder, unwitting instrument though he was, atoned for the crime with his blood, according to the code of the true Norseman.



The Signification of the Story

The physical explanation of this myth is to be found either in the daily setting of the sun (Balder), which sinks beneath the western waves, driven away by darkness (Hodur), or in the ending of the short Northern summer and the long reign of the winter season. "Balder represents the bright and clear summer, when twilight and daylight kiss each other and go hand in hand in these Northern latitudes."

"Balder's pyre, of the sun a mark, Holy hearth red staineth; Yet, soon dies its last faint spark, Darkly then Hoder reigneth."

Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson).

"His death by Hodur is the victory of darkness over light, the darkness of winter over the light of summer; and the revenge by Vali is the breaking forth of new light after the wintry darkness."

Loki, the fire, is jealous of Balder, the pure light of heaven, who alone among the Northern gods never fought, but was always ready with words of conciliation and peace.

"But from thy lips, O Balder, night or day, Heard no one ever an injurious word To God or Hero, but thou keptest back The others, labouring to compose their brawls."

Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold).

The tears shed by all things for the beloved god are symbolical of the spring thaw, setting in after the hardness and cold of winter, when every tree and twig, and even the stones drip with moisture; Thok (coal) alone shows no sign of tenderness, as she is buried deep within the dark earth and needs not the light of the sun.

"And as in winter, when the frost breaks up, At winter's end, before the spring begins, And a warm west wind blows, and thaw sets in— After an hour a dripping sound is heard In all the forests, and the soft-strewn snow Under the trees is dibbled thick with holes, And from the boughs the snow loads shuffle down; And, in fields sloping to the south, dark plots Of grass peep out amid surrounding snow, And widen, and the peasant's heart is glad— So through the world was heard a dripping noise Of all things weeping to bring Balder back; And there fell joy upon the Gods to hear."

Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold).

From the depths of their underground prison, the sun (Balder) and vegetation (Nanna) try to cheer heaven (Odin) and earth (Frigga) by sending them the ring Draupnir, the emblem of fertility, and the flowery tapestry, symbolical of the carpet of verdure which will again deck the earth and enhance her charms with its beauty.

The ethical signification of the myth is no less beautiful, for Balder and Hodur are symbols of the conflicting forces of good and evil, while Loki impersonates the tempter.

"But in each human soul we find That night's dark Hoder, Balder's brother blind, Is born and waxeth strong as he; For blind is ev'ry evil born, as bear cubs be, Night is the cloak of evil; but all good Hath ever clad in shining garments stood. The busy Loke, tempter from of old, Still forward treads incessant, and doth hold The blind one's murder hand, whose quick-launch'd spear Pierceth young Balder's breast, that sun of Valhal's sphere!"

Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson).



The Worship of Balder

One of the most important festivals was held at the summer solstice, or midsummer's eve, in honour of Balder the good, for it was considered the anniversary of his death and of his descent into the lower world. On that day, the longest in the year, the people congregated out of doors, made great bonfires, and watched the sun, which in extreme Northern latitudes barely dips beneath the horizon ere it rises upon a new day. From midsummer, the days gradually grow shorter, and the sun's rays less warm, until the winter solstice, which was called the "Mother night," as it was the longest night in the year. Midsummer's eve, once celebrated in honour of Balder, is now called St. John's day, that saint having entirely supplanted Balder the good.



CHAPTER XXII: LOKI

The Spirit of Evil

Besides the hideous giant Utgard-Loki, the personification of mischief and evil, whom Thor and his companions visited in Joetun-heim, the ancient Northern nations had another type of sin, whom they called Loki also, and whom we have already seen under many different aspects.

In the beginning, Loki was merely the personification of the hearth fire and of the spirit of life. At first a god, he gradually becomes "god and devil combined," and ends in being held in general detestation as an exact counterpart of the mediaeval Lucifer, the prince of lies, "the originator of deceit, and the back-biter" of the AEsir.

By some authorities Loki was said to be the brother of Odin, but others assert that the two were not related, but had merely gone through the form of swearing blood brotherhood common in the North.

"Odin! dost thou remember When we in early days Blended our blood together? When to taste beer Thou did'st constantly refuse Unless to both 'twas offered?"

Saemund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.).



Loki's Character

While Thor is the embodiment of Northern activity, Loki represents recreation, and the close companionship early established between these two gods shows very plainly how soon our ancestors realised that both were necessary to the welfare of mankind. Thor is ever busy and ever in earnest, but Loki makes fun of everything, until at last his love of mischief leads him entirely astray, and he loses all love for goodness and becomes utterly selfish and malevolent.

He represents evil in the seductive and seemingly beautiful form in which it parades through the world. Because of this deceptive appearance the gods did not at first avoid him, but treated him as one of themselves in all good-fellowship, taking him with them wherever they went, and admitting him not only to their merry-makings, but also to their council hall, where, unfortunately, they too often listened to his advice.

As we have already seen, Loki played a prominent part in the creation of man, endowing him with the power of motion, and causing the blood to circulate freely through his veins, whereby he was inspired with passions. As personification of fire as well as of mischief, Loki (lightning) is often seen with Thor (thunder), whom he accompanies to Joetun-heim to recover his hammer, to Utgard-Loki's castle, and to Geirrod's house. It is he who steals Freya's necklace and Sif's hair, and betrays Idun into the power of Thiassi; and although he sometimes gives the gods good advice and affords them real help, it is only to extricate them from some predicament into which he has rashly inveigled them.

Some authorities declare that, instead of making part of the creative trilogy (Odin, Hoenir, and Lodur or Loki), this god originally belonged to a pre-Odinic race of deities, and was the son of the great giant Fornjotnr (Ymir), his brothers being Kari (air) and Hler (water), and his sister Ran, the terrible goddess of the sea. Other mythologists, however, make him the son of the giant Farbauti, who has been identified with Bergelmir, the sole survivor of the deluge, and of Laufeia (leafy isle) or Nal (vessel), his mother, thus stating that his connection with Odin was only that of the Northern oath of good-fellowship.

Loki (fire) first married Glut (glow), who bore him two daughters, Eisa (embers) and Einmyria (ashes); it is therefore very evident that Norsemen considered him emblematic of the hearth-fire, and when the flaming wood crackles on the hearth the goodwives in the North are still wont to say that Loki is beating his children. Besides this wife, Loki is also said to have wedded the giantess Angur-boda (the anguish-boding), who dwelt in Joetun-heim, and who, as we have already seen, bore him the three monsters: Hel, goddess of death, the Midgard snake Ioermungandr, and the grim wolf Fenris.

"Loki begat the wolf With Angur-boda."

Saemund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.).



Sigyn

Loki's third marriage was with Sigyn, who proved a most loving and devoted wife, and bore him two sons, Narve and Vali, the latter a namesake of the god who avenged Balder. Sigyn was always faithful to her husband, and did not forsake him even after he had definitely been cast out of Asgard and confined in the bowels of the earth.

As Loki was the embodiment of evil in the minds of the Northern races, they entertained nothing but fear of him, built no temples to his honour, offered no sacrifices to him, and designated the most noxious weeds by his name. The quivering, overheated atmosphere of summer was supposed to betoken his presence, for the people were then wont to remark that Loki was sowing his wild oats, and when the sun appeared to be drawing water they said Loki was drinking.

The story of Loki is so inextricably woven with that of the other gods that most of the myths relating to him have already been told, and there remain but two episodes of his life to relate, one showing his better side before he had degenerated into the arch deceiver, and the other illustrating how he finally induced the gods to defile their peace-steads by wilful murder.



Skrymsli and the Peasant's Child

A giant and a peasant were playing a game together one day (probably a game of chess, which was a favourite winter pastime with the Northern vikings). They of course had determined to play for certain stakes, and the giant, being victorious, won the peasant's only son, whom he said he would come and claim on the morrow unless the parents could hide him so cleverly that he could not be found.

Knowing that such a feat would be impossible for them to perform, the parents fervently prayed to Odin to help them, and in answer to their entreaties the god came down to earth, and changed the boy into a tiny grain of wheat, which he hid in an ear of grain in the midst of a large field, declaring that the giant would not be able to find him. The giant Skrymsli, however, possessed wisdom far beyond what Odin imagined, and, failing to find the child at home, he strode off immediately to the field with his scythe, and mowing the wheat he selected the particular ear where the boy was hidden. Counting over the grains of wheat he was about to lay his hand upon the right one when Odin, hearing the child's cry of distress, snatched the kernel out of the giant's hand, and restored the boy to his parents, telling them that he had done all in his power to help them. But as the giant vowed he had been cheated, and would again claim the boy on the morrow unless the parents could outwit him, the unfortunate peasants now turned to Hoenir for aid. The god heard them graciously and changed the boy into a fluff of down, which he hid in the breast of a swan swimming in a pond close by. Now when, a few minutes later, Skrymsli came up, he guessed what had occurred, and seizing the swan, he bit off its neck, and would have swallowed the down had not Hoenir wafted it away from his lips and out of reach, restoring the boy safe and sound to his parents, but telling them that he could not further aid them.

Skrymsli warned the parents that he would make a third attempt to secure the child, whereupon they applied in their despair to Loki, who carried the boy out to sea, and concealed him, as a tiny egg, in the roe of a flounder. Returning from his expedition, Loki encountered the giant near the shore, and seeing that he was bent upon a fishing excursion, he insisted upon accompanying him. He felt somewhat uneasy lest the terrible giant should have seen through his device, and therefore thought it would be well for him to be on the spot in case of need. Skrymsli baited his hook, and was more or less successful in his angling, when suddenly he drew up the identical flounder in which Loki had concealed his little charge. Opening the fish upon his knee, the giant proceeded to minutely examine the roe, until he found the egg which he was seeking.

The plight of the boy was certainly perilous, but Loki, watching his chance, snatched the egg out of the giant's grasp, and transforming it again into the child, he instructed him secretly to run home, passing through the boathouse on his way and closing the door behind him. The terrified boy did as he was told immediately he found himself on land, and the giant, quick to observe his flight, dashed after him into the boathouse. Now Loki had cunningly placed a sharp spike in such a position that the great head of the giant ran full tilt against it, and he sank to the ground with a groan, whereupon Loki, seeing him helpless, cut off one of his legs. Imagine the god's dismay, however, when he saw the pieces join and immediately knit together. But Loki was a master of guile, and recognising this as the work of magic, he cut off the other leg, promptly throwing flint and steel between the severed limb and trunk, and thereby hindering any further sorcery. The peasants were immensely relieved to find that their enemy was slain, and ever after they considered Loki the mightiest of all the heavenly council, for he had delivered them effectually from their foe, while the other gods had lent only temporary aid.



The Giant Architect

Notwithstanding their wonderful bridge Bifroest, the tremulous way, and the watchfulness of Heimdall, the gods could not feel entirely secure in Asgard, and were often fearful lest the frost giants should make their way into Asgard. To obviate this possibility, they finally decided to build an impregnable fortress; and while they were planning how this could be done, an unknown architect came with an offer to undertake the construction, provided the gods would give him sun, moon, and Freya, goddess of youth and beauty, as reward. The gods were wroth at so presumptuous an offer, but when they would have indignantly driven the stranger from their presence, Loki urged them to make a bargain which it would be impossible for the stranger to keep, and so they finally told the architect that the guerdon should be his, provided the fortress were finished in the course of a single winter, and that he accomplished the work with no other assistance than that of his horse Svadilfare.

"To Asgard came an architect, And castle offered to erect,— A castle high Which should defy Deep Jotun guile and giant raid; And this most wily compact made: Fair Freya, with the Moon and Sun, As price the fortress being done."

Valhalla (J.C. Jones).

The unknown architect agreed to these seemingly impossible conditions, and immediately set to work, hauling ponderous blocks of stone by night, building during the day, and progressing so rapidly that the gods began to feel somewhat anxious. Ere long they noticed that more than half the labour was accomplished by the wonderful steed Svadilfare, and when they saw, near the end of winter, that the work was finished save only one portal, which they knew the architect could easily erect during the night:

"Horror and fear the gods beset; Finished almost the castle stood! In three days more The work be o'er; Then must they make their contract good, And pay the awful debt."

Valhalla (J. C. Jones).

Terrified lest they should be called upon to part, not only with the sun and moon, but also with Freya, the personification of the youth and beauty of the world, the gods turned upon Loki, and threatened to kill him unless he devised some means of hindering the architect from finishing the work within the specified time.

Loki's cunning proved once more equal to the situation. He waited until nightfall of the final day, when, as Svadilfare passed the fringe of a forest, painfully dragging one of the great blocks of stone required for the termination of the work, he rushed out from a dark glade in the guise of a mare, and neighed so invitingly that, in a trice, the horse kicked himself free of his harness and ran after the mare, closely pursued by his angry master. The mare galloped swiftly on, artfully luring horse and master deeper and deeper into the forest shades, until the night was nearly gone, and it was no longer possible to finish the work. The architect was none other than a redoubtable Hrim-thurs, in disguise, and he now returned to Asgard in a towering rage at the fraud which had been practised upon him. Assuming his wonted proportions, he would have annihilated the gods had not Thor suddenly returned from a journey and slain him with his magic hammer Mioelnir, which he hurled with terrific force full in his face.

The gods had saved themselves on this occasion only by fraud and by the violent deed of Thor, and these were destined to bring great sorrow upon them, and eventually to secure their downfall, and to hasten the coming of Ragnarok. Loki, however, felt no remorse for his part, and in due time, it is said, he became the parent of an eight-footed steed called Sleipnir, which, as we have seen, was Odin's favourite mount.

"But Sleipnir he begat With Svadilfari."

Lay of Hyndla (Thorpe's tr.).

Loki performed so many evil deeds during his career that he richly deserved the title of "arch deceiver" which was given him. He was generally hated for his subtle malicious ways, and for an inveterate habit of prevarication which won for him also the title of "prince of lies."



Loki's last Crime

Loki's last crime, and the one which filled his measure of iniquity, was to induce Hodur to throw the fatal mistletoe at Balder, whom he hated merely on account of his immaculate purity. Perhaps even this crime might have been condoned had it not been for his obduracy when, in the disguise of the old woman Thok, he was called upon to shed a tear for Balder. His action on this occasion convinced the gods that nothing but evil remained within him, and they pronounced unanimously upon him the sentence of perpetual banishment from Asgard.



AEgir's Banquet

To divert the gods' sadness and make them, for a short time, forget the treachery of Loki and the loss of Balder, AEgir, god of the sea, invited them to partake of a banquet in his coral caves at the bottom of the sea.

"Now, to assuage the high gods' grief And bring their mourning some relief, From coral caves 'Neath ocean waves, Mighty King AEgir Invited the AEsir To festival In Hlesey's hall; That, tho' for Baldur every guest Was grieving yet, He might forget Awhile his woe in friendly feast."

Valhalla (J. C. Jones).

The gods gladly accepted the invitation, and clad in their richest garb, and with festive smiles, they appeared in the coral caves at the appointed time. None were absent save the radiant Balder, for whom many a regretful sigh was heaved, and the evil Loki, whom none could regret. In the course of the feast, however, this last-named god appeared in their midst like a dark shadow, and when bidden to depart, he gave vent to his evil passions in a torrent of invective against the gods.

"Of the AEsir and the Alfar That are here within Not one has a friendly word for thee."

AEgir's Compotation, or Loki's Altercation (Thorpe's tr.).

Then, jealous of the praises which Funfeng, AEgir's servant, had won for the dexterity with which he waited upon his master's guests, Loki suddenly turned upon him and slew him. At this wanton crime, the gods in fierce wrath drove Loki away once more, threatening him with dire punishment should he ever appear before them again.

Scarcely had the AEsir recovered from this disagreeable interruption to their feast, and resumed their places at the board, when Loki came creeping in once more, resuming his slanders with venomous tongue, and taunting the gods with their weaknesses or shortcomings, dwelling maliciously upon their physical imperfections, and deriding them for their mistakes. In vain the gods tried to stem his abuse; his voice rose louder and louder, and he was just giving utterance to some base slander about Sif, when he was suddenly cut short by the sight of Thor's hammer, angrily brandished by an arm whose power he knew full well, and he fled incontinently.

"Silence, thou impure being! My mighty hammer, Mioellnir, Shall stop thy prating. I will thy head From thy neck strike; Then will thy life be ended."

AEgir's Compotation, or Loki's Altercation (Thorpe's tr.).



The Pursuit of Loki

Knowing that he could now have no hope of being admitted into Asgard again, and that sooner or later the gods, seeing the effect of his evil deeds, would regret having permitted him to roam the world, and would try either to bind or slay him, Loki withdrew to the mountains, where he built himself a hut, with four doors which he always left wide open to permit of a hasty escape. Carefully laying his plans, he decided that if the gods should come in search of him he would rush down to the neighbouring cataract, according to tradition the Fraananger force or stream, and, changing himself into a salmon, would thus evade his pursuers. He reasoned, however, that although he could easily avoid any hook, it might be difficult for him to effect his escape if the gods should fashion a net like that of the sea-goddess Ran.

Haunted by this fear, he decided to test the possibility of making such a mesh, and started to make one out of twine. He was still engaged upon the task when Odin, Kvasir, and Thor suddenly appeared in the distance; and knowing that they had discovered his retreat, Loki threw his half-finished net into the fire, and, rushing through one of his ever-open doors, he leaped into the waterfall, where, in the shape of a salmon, he hid among some stones in the bed of the stream.

The gods, finding the hut empty, were about to depart, when Kvasir perceived the remains of the burnt net on the hearth. After some thought an inspiration came to him, and he advised the gods to weave a similar implement and use it in searching for their foe in the neighbouring stream, since it would be like Loki to choose such a method of baffling their pursuit. This advice seemed good and was immediately followed, and, the net finished, the gods proceeded to drag the stream. Loki eluded the net at its first cast by hiding at the bottom of the river between two stones; and when the gods weighted the mesh and tried a second time, he effected his escape by jumping up stream. A third attempt to secure him proved successful, however, for, as he once more tried to get away by a sudden leap, Thor caught him in mid-air and held him so fast, that he could not escape. The salmon, whose slipperiness is proverbial in the North, is noted for its remarkably slim tail, and Norsemen attribute this to Thor's tight grasp upon his foe.



Loki's Punishment

Loki now sullenly resumed his wonted shape, and his captors dragged him down into a cavern, where they made him fast, using as bonds the entrails of his son Narve, who had been torn to pieces by Vali, his brother, whom the gods had changed into a wolf for the purpose. One of these fetters was passed under Loki's shoulders, and one under his loins, thereby securing him firmly hand and foot; but the gods, not feeling quite satisfied that the strips, tough and enduring though they were, would not give way, changed them into adamant or iron.

"Thee, on a rock's point, With the entrails of thy ice-cold son, The gods will bind."

Saemund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.).

Skadi, the giantess, a personification of the cold mountain stream, who had joyfully watched the fettering of her foe (subterranean fire), now fastened a serpent directly over his head, so that its venom would fall, drop by drop, upon his upturned face. But Sigyn, Loki's faithful wife, hurried with a cup to his side, and until the day of Ragnarok she remained by him, catching the drops as they fell, and never leaving her post except when her vessel was full, and she was obliged to empty it. Only during her short absences could the drops of venom fall upon Loki's face, and then they caused such intense pain that he writhed with anguish, his efforts to get free shaking the earth and producing the earthquakes which so frighten mortals.

"Ere they left him in his anguish, O'er his treacherous brow, ungrateful, Skadi hung a serpent hateful, Venom drops for aye distilling, Every nerve with torment filling; Thus shall he in horror languish. By him, still unwearied kneeling, Sigyn at his tortured side,— Faithful wife! with beaker stealing Drops of venom as they fall,— Agonising poison all! Sleepless, changeless, ever dealing Comfort, will she still abide; Only when the cup's o'erflowing Must fresh pain and smarting cause, Swift, to void the beaker going, Shall she in her watching pause. Then doth Loki Loudly cry; Shrieks of terror, Groans of horror, Breaking forth in thunder peals With his writhings scared Earth reels. Trembling and quaking, E'en high Heav'n shaking! So wears he out his awful doom, Until dread Ragnarok be come."

Valhalla (J. C. Jones).

In this painful position Loki was destined to remain until the twilight of the gods, when his bonds would be loosed, and he would take part in the fatal conflict on the battlefield of Vigrid, falling at last by the hand of Heimdall, who would be slain at the same time.

As we have seen, the venom-dropping snake in this myth is the cold mountain stream, whose waters, falling from time to time upon subterranean fire, evaporate in steam, which escapes through fissures, and causes earthquakes and geysers, phenomena with which the inhabitants of Iceland, for instance, were very familiar.



Loki's Day

When the gods were reduced to the rank of demons by the introduction of Christianity, Loki was confounded with Saturn, who had also been shorn of his divine attributes, and both were considered the prototypes of Satan. The last day of the week, which was held sacred to Loki, was known in the Norse as Laugardag, or wash-day, but in English it was changed to Saturday, and was said to owe its name not to Saturn but to Sataere, the thief in ambush, and the Teutonic god of agriculture, who is supposed to be merely another personification of Loki.



CHAPTER XXIII: THE GIANTS

Joetun-heim

As we have already seen, the Northern races imagined that the giants were the first creatures who came to life among the icebergs which filled the vast abyss of Ginnunga-gap. These giants were from the very beginning the opponents and rivals of the gods, and as the latter were the personifications of all that is good and lovely, the former were representative of all that was ugly and evil.

"He comes—he comes—the Frost Spirit comes! on the rushing northern blast, And the dark Norwegian pines have bowed as his fearful breath went past. With an unscorched wing he has hurried on, where the fires on Hecla glow On the darkly beautiful sky above and the ancient ice below."

J. G. Whittier.

When Ymir, the first giant, fell lifeless on the ice, slain by the gods, his progeny were drowned in his blood. One couple only, Bergelmir and his wife, effected their escape to Joetun-heim, where they took up their abode and became the parents of all the giant race. In the North the giants were called by various names, each having a particular meaning. Joetun, for instance, meant "the great eater," for the giants were noted for their enormous appetites as well as for their uncommon size. They were fond of drinking as well as of eating, wherefore they were also called Thurses, a word which some writers claim had the same meaning as thirst; but others think they owed this name to the high towers ("turseis") which they were supposed to have built. As the giants were antagonistic to the gods, the latter always strove to force them to remain in Joetun-heim, which was situated in the cold regions of the Pole. The giants were almost invariably worsted in their encounters with the gods, for they were heavy and slow-witted, and had nothing but stone weapons to oppose to the AEsir's bronze. In spite of this inequality, however, they were sometimes greatly envied by the gods, for they were thoroughly conversant with all knowledge relating to the past. Even Odin was envious of this attribute, and no sooner had he secured it by a draught from Mimir's spring than he hastened to Joetun-heim to measure himself against Vafthrudnir, the most learned of the giant brood. But he might never have succeeded in defeating his antagonist in this strange encounter had he not ceased inquiring about the past and propounded a question relating to the future.

Of all the gods Thor was most feared by the Joetuns, for he was continually waging war against the frost and mountain giants, who would fain have bound the earth for ever in their rigid bands, thus preventing men from tilling the soil. In fighting against them, Thor, as we have already seen, generally had recourse to his terrible hammer Mioelnir.



Origin of the Mountains

According to German legends the uneven surface of the earth was due to the giants, who marred its smoothness by treading upon it while it was still soft and newly created, while streams were formed from the copious tears shed by the giantesses upon seeing the valleys made by their husbands' huge footprints. As such was the Teutonic belief, the people imagined that the giants, who personified the mountains to them, were huge uncouth creatures, who could only move about in the darkness or fog, and were petrified as soon as the first rays of sunlight pierced through the gloom or scattered the clouds.

This belief led them to name one of their principal mountain chains the Riesengebirge (giant mountains). The Scandinavians also shared this belief, and to this day the Icelanders designate their highest mountain peaks by the name of Jokul, a modification of the word "Joetun." In Switzerland, where the everlasting snows rest upon the lofty mountain tops, the people still relate old stories of the time when the giants roamed abroad; and when an avalanche came crashing down the mountain side, they say the giants have restlessly shaken off part of the icy burden from their brows and shoulders.



The First Gods

As the giants were also personifications of snow, ice, cold, stone, and subterranean fire, they were said to be descended from the primitive Fornjotnr, whom some authorities identify with Ymir. According to this version of the myth, Fornjotnr had three sons: Hler, the sea; Kari, the air; and Loki, fire. These three divinities, the first gods, formed the oldest trinity, and their respective descendants were the sea giants Mimir, Gymir, and Grendel, the storm giants Thiassi, Thrym, and Beli, and the giants of fire and death, such as the Fenris wolf and Hel.