"He maybe handsome," answered Brunhild sadly; "and, for aught I know, he may be noble. But what is all that by the side of kingly power? Were he but the peer of your brother Gunther, then you might well boast."

"He is the peer of Gunther," returned Kriemhild. "And not only his peer, but more; for he stands as high above him in kingly power and worth as in bodily stature."

"How can that be?" asked Brunhild, growing angry. "For, when Gunther so gallantly won me at Isenstein, he told me that Siegfried was his vassal; and often since that time I have heard the same. And even your husband told me that Gunther was his liege lord."

Queen Kriemhild laughed at these words, and answered, "I tell you again that Siegfried is a king far nobler and richer and higher than any other king on earth. Think you that my brothers would have given me to a mere vassal to be his wife?"

Then Brunhild, full of wrath, replied, "Your husband is Gunther's vassal and my own, and he shall do homage to us as the humblest and meanest of our underlings. He shall not go from this place until he has paid all the tribute that has so long been due from him. Then we shall see who is the vassal, and who is the lord."

"Nay," answered Kriemhild. "It shall not be. No tribute was ever due; and, if homage is to be paid, it is rather Gunther who must pay it."

"It shall be settled once for all!" cried Brunhild, now boiling over with rage. "I will know the truth. If Siegfried is not our vassal, then I have been duped; and I will have revenge."

"It is well," was the mild answer. "Let it be settled, once for all; and then, mayhap, we shall know who it was who really won the games at Isenstein, and you for Gunther's wife."

And the two queens parted in wrath.[EN#31]

Kriemhild's anger was as fleeting as an April cloud, which does but threaten, and then passes away in tears and sunshine. But Brunhild's was like the dread winter storm that sweeps down from Niflheim, and brings ruin and death in its wake. She felt that she had been cruelly wronged in some way, and that her life had been wrecked, and she rested not until she had learned the truth.

It was Hagen who at last told her the story of the cruel deceit that had made her Gunther's wife; and then her wrath and her shame knew no bounds.

"Woe betide the day!" she cried,—"woe betide the day that brought me to Rhineland, and made me the wife of a weakling and coward, and the jest of him who might have done nobler things!"

Hagen smiled. He had long waited for this day.

"It was Siegfried, and Siegfried alone, who plotted to deceive you," he said. "Had it not been for him, you might still have been the happy maiden-queen of Isenland. And now he laughs at you, and urges his queen, Kriemhild, to scorn you as she would an underling."

"I know it, I know it," returned the queen in distress. "And yet how grandly noble is the man! How he rushed through the flames to awaken me, when no one else could save! How brave, how handsome,—and yet he has been my bane. I can have no peace while he lives."

Hagen smiled again, and a strange light gleamed from his dark eye. Then he said, "Truly handsome and brave is he, but a viler traitor was never born. He even now plots to seize this kingdom, and to add it to his domain. Why else should he bring so great a retinue of Nibelungen warriors to Burgundy? I will see King Gunther at once, and we will put an end to his wicked projects."

"Do even so, good Hagen," said Brunhild. "Take him from my path, and bring low the haughty pride of his wife, and I shall be content."

"That I will do!" cried Hagen. "That I will do! Gunther is and shall be the king without a peer; and no one shall dare dispute the worth and the queenly beauty of his wife."

Then the wily chief sought Gunther, and with cunning words poisoned his weak mind. The feeble old king was easily made to believe that Siegfried was plotting against his life, and seeking to wrest the kingdom from him. And he forgot the many kind favors he had received at the hero's hand. He no longer remembered how Siegfried had slain the terror of the Glittering Heath, and freed the Burgundians from many a fear; and how he had routed the warlike hosts of the North-land, and made prisoners of their kings; and how he had brought his voyage to Isenland to a happy and successful ending. He forgot, also, that Siegfried was his sister's husband. He had ears and mind only for Hagen's wily words.

"While this man lives," said the dark-browed chief, "none of us are safe. See how the people follow him! Hear how they shout at his coming! They look upon him as a god, and upon Gunther as a nobody. If we are wise, we shall rid ourselves of so dangerous a man."

"It is but a week until he takes his leave of us, and goes back to his own home in Nibelungen Land. Watch him carefully until that time, but do him no harm. When he is once gone, he shall never come back again," said the king. But he spoke thus, not because of any kind feelings towards Siegfried, but rather because he feared the Nibelungen hero.

"He has no thought of going at that time," answered Hagen. "He speaks of it, only to hide his wicked and traitorous plots. Instead of going home, his plans will then be ready for action, and it will be too late for us to save ourselves. Still, if you will not believe me, take your own course. You have been warned."

The cunning chief arose to leave the room; but Gunther, now thoroughly frightened, stopped him.

"Hagen," he said, "you have always been my friend, and the words which you say are wise. Save us and our kingdom now, in whatsoever way you may deem best. I know not what to do."

Then the weak king and the warrior-chief talked long together in low, hoarse whispers. And, when they parted, shame and guilt were stamped in plain lines on Gunther's face, from which they were nevermore erased; and he dared not lift his gaze from the floor, fearing that his eyes would betray him, if seen by any more pure-hearted than he. But a smile of triumph played under the lurking gleams of Hagen's eye; and he walked erect and bold, as if he had done a praiseworthy deed.

That night a storm came sweeping down from the North, and the cold rain fell in torrents; and great hailstones pattered on the roofs and towers of the castle, and cruelly pelted the cattle in the fields, and the birds in the friendly shelter of the trees. And old Thor fought bravely with the Storm-giants; and all night long the rattle of his chariot-wheels, and the heavy strokes of his dread hammer, were heard resounding through the heavens. In his lonely chamber Hagen sat and rubbed his hands together, and grimly smiled.

"The time so long waited for has come at last," he said.

But the guilty king, unable to sleep, walked restlessly to and fro, and trembled with fear at every sound of the storm-gust without.

When day dawned at last, a sad scene met the eyes of all beholders. The earth was covered with the broken branches of leafy trees; the flowers and shrubs were beaten pitilessly to the ground; and here and there lay the dead bodies of little feathered songsters, who, the day before, had made the woods glad with their music.

The sun had scarcely risen above this sorrowful scene, gilding the gray towers and turrets and the drooping trees with the promise of better things, than a strange confusion was noticed outside of the castle-gates. Thirty and two horsemen wearing the livery of the North-lands stood there, and asked to be led to the Burgundian kings.

"Who are you? and what is your errand?" asked the gate-keeper.

"We come as heralds and messengers from Leudiger and Leudigast, the mighty kings of the North," they answered. "But our errand we can tell to no man save to Gunther your king, or to his brothers Gernot and Giselher."

Then they were led by the king's command into the council-hall, where sat Gunther, Gernot, and the noble Giselher; and behind them stood their uncle and chief, brave old Hagen.

"What message bring you from our old friends Leudiger and Leudigast?" asked Gunther of the strangers.

"Call them not your friends," answered the chief of the company. "We bring you this message from our liege lords, whom you may well count as enemies. Many years ago they were sorely beaten in battle, and suffered much hurt at your hands. And they vowed then to avenge the injury, and to wipe out the disgrace you had caused them, just so soon as they were strong enough to do so. Now they are ready, with fifty thousand men, to march into your country. And they swear to lay waste your lands, and to burn your towns and villages and all your castles, unless you at once acknowledge yourselves their vassals, and agree to pay them tribute. This is the kings' message. And we were further ordered not to wait for an answer, but to carry back to them without delay your reply, whether you will agree to their terms or no."

King Gunther, as was his wont, turned to Hagen for advice.

"Send for Siegfried," whispered the chief.

It was done. And soon the hero came into the hall. His kingly grace and warlike bearing were such that Gunther dared not raise his guilty eyes from the ground; and Hagen's furtive glances were, for the moment, freighted with fear and shame. The message of the heralds was repeated to Siegfried; and Gunther said,—

"Most noble friend, you hear what word these traitorous kings dare send us. Now, we remember, that, long years ago, you led us against them, and gave us a glorious victory. We remember, too, how, by your counsel, their lives were spared, and they were sent home with costly gifts. It is thus they repay our kindness. What answer shall we send them?"

"Say that we will fight," answered Siegfried at once. "I will lead my brave Nibelungens against them, and they shall learn how serious a thing it is to break an oath, or to return treason for kindness."

The news soon spread through all the town and through the country-side, that Leudiger and Leudigast, with fifty thousand men, were marching into Burgundy, and destroying every thing in their way. And great flight and confusion prevailed. Men and women hurried hither and thither in dismay. Soldiers busily sharpened their weapons, and burnished their armor, ready for the fray. Little children were seen cowering at every sound, and anxious faces were found everywhere.

When Queen Kriemhild saw the busy tumult, and heard the shouts and cries in the street and the courtyard, and learned the cause of it all, she was greatly troubled, and went at once to seek Siegfried. When she found him, she drew him aside, and besought him not to take part in the war which threatened, but to hasten with all speed back to their own loved Nibelungen Land.

"And why would my noble queen wish me thus to play the part of a coward, and to leave my friends when they most need my help?" asked Siegfried in surprise.

"I would not have you play the coward," answered Kriemhild, and hot tears stood in her eyes. "But some unseen danger overhangs. There are other traitors than Leudiger and Leudigast, and men to be more feared than they. Last night I dreamed a fearful dream, and it follows me still. I dreamed that you hunted in the forest, and that two wild boars attacked you. The grass and the flowers were stained with your gore, and the cruel tusks of the beasts tore you in pieces, and no one came to your help. And I cried out in my distress, and awoke; and the storm-clouds roared and threatened, and the hail pattered on the roof, and the wind and rain beat against the windowpanes. Then I slept again, and another dream, as fearful as the first, came to me. I dreamed that you rode in the forest, and that music sprang up in your footsteps, and all things living called you blessed, but that suddenly two mountains rose up from the ground, and their high granite crags toppled over, and fell upon you, and buried you from my sight forever. Then I awoke again, and my heart has ever since been heavy with fearful forebodings. I know that some dread evil threatens us; yet, what it is, I cannot tell. But go not out against the North-kings. Our Nibelungen-folk wait too long for your coming."

Siegfried gayly laughed at his queen's fears, and said, "The woof of every man's fate has been woven by the Norns, and neither he nor his foes can change it. When his hour comes, then he must go to meet his destiny."

Then he led her gently back to her room in the castle, and bade her a loving farewell, saying, "When the foes of our Burgundian hosts are put to flight, and there is no longer need for us here, then will we hasten back to Nibelungen Land. Have patience and hope for a few days only, and all will yet be well. Forget your foolish dreams, and think only of my glad return."

It was arranged, that, in the march against the North-kings, Siegfried with his Nibelungens should take the lead; while Hagen, with a picked company of fighting-men, should bring up the rear. Every one was eager to join in the undertaking; and no one, save King Gunther and his cunning counsellor, and Ortwin and Dankwart, knew that the pretended heralds from the North-kings were not heralds at all, but merely the false tools of wicked Hagen. For the whole was but a well-planned plot, as we shall see, to entrap unwary, trusting Siegfried.

Soon all things were in readiness for the march; but, as the day was now well spent, it was agreed, that, at early dawn of the morrow, the little army should set out. And every one went home to put his affairs in order, and to rest for the night.

Late that evening old Hagen went to bid Siegfried's queen good-by. Kriemhild had tried hard to drown her gloomy fears, and to forget her sad, foreboding dreams; but it was all in vain, for deep anxiety still rested heavily upon her mind. Yet she welcomed her dark-browed uncle with the kindest words.

"How glad I am," she said, "that my husband is here to help my kinsfolk in this their time of need! I know right well, that, with him to lead, you shall win. But, dear uncle, remember, when you are in the battle, that we have always loved you, and that Siegfried has done many kindnesses to the Burgundians; and, if any danger threaten him, turn it aside, I pray you, for Kriemhild's sake. I know that I merit Queen Brunhild's anger, because of the sharp words I lately spoke to her; but let not my husband suffer blame for that which is my fault alone."

"Kriemhild," answered Hagen, "no one shall suffer blame,—neither Siegfried nor yourself. We are all forgetful, and sometimes speak hasty words; but that which we say in angry thoughtlessness should not be cherished up against us. There is no one who thinks more highly of Siegfried than I, and there is nothing I would not do to serve him."

"I should not fear for him," said she, "if he were not so bold and reckless. When he is in the battle, he never thinks of his own safety. And I tremble lest at some time he may dare too much, and meet his death. If you knew every thing, as I do, you would fear for him too."

"What is it?" asked Hagen, trying to hide his eagerness,—"what is it that gives you cause for fear? Tell me all about it, and then I will know the better how to shield him from danger. I will lay down my life for his sake."

Then Kriemhild, trusting in her uncle's word, and forgetful of every caution, told him the secret of the dragon's blood, and of Siegfried's strange bath, and of the mischief-working lime-leaf.

"And now," she added, "since I know that there is one spot which a deadly weapon might reach, I am in constant fear that the spear of an enemy may, perchance, strike him there. Is there not some way of shielding that spot?"

"There is," answered Hagen. "Make some mark, or put some sign, upon his coat, that I may know where that spot is. And, when the battle rages, I will ride close behind him, and ward off every threatened stroke."

And Kriemhild joyfully promised that she would at once embroider a silken lime-leaf on the hero's coat, just over the fatal spot. And Hagen, well pleased, bade her farewell, and went away.

Without delay the chief sought the weak-minded Gunther, and to him he related all that the trustful Kriemhild had told him. And, until the midnight hour, the two plotters sat in the king's bed-chamber, and laid their cunning plans. Both thought it best, now they had learned the fatal secret, to give up the sham march against the North-kings, and to seek by other and easier means to lure Siegfried to his death.

"The chiefs will be much displeased," said Gunther. "For all will come, ready to march at the rising of the sun. What shall we do to please them, and make them more ready to change their plans?"

Hagen thought a moment, and then the grim smile that was wont to break the dark lines of his face when he was pleased spread over his features.

"We will have a grand hunt in the Odenwald to-morrow," he hoarsely whispered.



Adventure XIX. How They Hunted in the Odenwald.



Next morning, at earliest daybreak, while yet the stars were bright, and the trees hung heavy with dew-drops, and the clouds were light and high, King Siegfried stood with his warriors before the castle-gate. They waited but for the sunrise, and a word from Gunther the king, to ride forth over dale and woodland, and through forest and brake and field, to meet, as they believed, the hosts of the North-land kings. And Siegfried moved among them, calm-faced and bright as a war-god, upon the radiant Greyfell. And men said, long years afterward, that never had the shining hero seemed so glorious to their sight. Within the spacious courtyard a thousand Burgundian braves stood waiting, too, for the signal, and the king's word of command. And at their head stood Hagen, dark as a cloud in summer, guilefully hiding his vile plots, and giving out orders for the marching. There, too, were honest Gernot, fearless and upright, and Giselher, true as gold; and neither of them dreamed of evil, or of the dark deed that day was doomed to see. Close by the gate was Ortwin, bearing aloft the blood-red dragon-banner, which the Burgundians were wont to carry in honor of Siegfried's famous fight with Fafnir. And there was Dankwart, also, ever ready to boast when no danger threatened, and ever willing to do chief Hagen's bidding. And next came Volker the Fiddler good, with the famed sword Fiddle-bow by him, on which, it is said, he could make the sweetest music while fighting his foes in battle.

At length the sun began to peep over the eastern hills, and his beams fell upon the castle-walls, and shot away through the trees, and over the meadows, and made the dewdrops glisten like myriads of diamonds among the dripping leaves and blossoms. And a glad shout went up from the throats of the waiting heroes; for they thought that the looked-for moment had come, and the march would soon begin. And the shout was echoed from walls to turrets, and from turrets to trees, and from trees to hills, and from the hills to the vaulted sky above. And nothing was wanting now but King Gunther's word of command.

Suddenly, far down the street, the sound of a bugle was heard, and then of the swift clattering of horses' hoofs coming up the hill towards the castle.

"Who are they who come thus to join us at the last moment?" asked Hagen of the watchman above the gate.

"They are strangers," answered the watchman; "and they carry a peace-flag."

In a few moments the strange horsemen dashed up, and halted some distance from the castle-gate, where Siegfried and his heroes stood.

"Who are you? and what is your errand?" cried Hagen, in the king's name.

They answered that they were heralds from the North-land kings, sent quickly to correct the message of the day before; for their liege lords, Leudiger and Leudigast, they said, had given up warring against Burgundy, and had gone back to their homes. And they had sent humbly to ask the Rhineland kings to forget the rash threats which they had made, and to allow them to swear fealty to Gunther, and henceforth to be his humble vassals, if only they might be forgiven.

"Right cheerfully do we forgive them!" cried Gunther, not waiting to consult with his wise men. "And our forgiveness shall be so full, that we shall ask neither fealty nor tribute from them."

Then he turned to Siegfried, and said, "You hear, friend Siegfried, how this troublesome matter has been happily ended. Accept our thanks, we pray you, for your proffered help; for, without it, it might have gone but roughly with us in a second war with the Northland kings. But now you are free to do what pleases you. If, as you said yesterday, you would fain return to Nibelungen Land, you may send your warriors on the way to-day, for they are already equipped for the journey. But abide you with us another day, and to-morrow we will bid you God-speed, and you may easily overtake your Nibelungen friends ere they have reached our own boundaries."

Siegfried was not well pleased to give up an undertaking scarce begun, and still less could he understand why the king should be so ready to forgive the affront which the North-land kings had offered him. And he was not slow in reading the look of shame and guilt that lurked in Gunther's face, or the smile of jealous hate that Hagen could no longer hide. Yet no word of displeasure spoke he, nor seemed he to understand that any mischief was brewing; for he feared neither force nor guile. So he bade his Nibelungens to begin their homeward march, saying that he and Kriemhild, and the ladies of her train, would follow swiftly on the morrow.

"Since it is your last day with us," said Gunther, grown cunning through Hagen's teaching, "what say you, dear Siegfried, to a hunt in Odin's Wood?"

"Right glad will I be to join you in such sport," answered Siegfried. "I will change my war-coat for a hunting-suit, and be ready within an hour."

Then Siegfried went to his apartments, and doffed his steel-clad armor, and searched in vain through his wardrobe for his favorite hunting-suit. But it was nowhere to be found; and he was fain to put on the rich embroidered coat which he sometimes wore in battle, instead of a coat-of-mail. And he did not see the white lime-leaf that Kriemhild with anxious care had worked in silk upon it. Then he sought the queen, and told her of the unlooked-for change of plans, and how, on the morrow, they would ride towards Nibelungen Land; but to-day he said he had promised Gunther to hunt with him in the Odenwald.

But Kriemhild, to his great surprise, begged him not to leave her, even to hunt in the Odenwald. For she had begun to fear that she had made a great mistake in telling Hagen the story of the lime-leaf; and yet she could not explain to Siegfried the true cause of her uneasiness.

"Oh, do not join in the hunt!" she cried. "Something tells me that danger lurks hidden in the wood. Stay in the castle with me, and help me put things in readiness for our journey homewards to-morrow. Last night I had another dream. I thought that Odin's birds, Hugin and Munin, sat on a tree before me. And Hugin flapped his wings, and said, 'What more vile than a false friend? What more to be feared than a secret foe? Harder than stone is his unfeeling heart; sharper than the adder's poison-fangs are his words; a snake in the grass is he!' Then Munin flapped his wings too, but said nothing. And I awoke, and thought at once of the sunbright Balder, slain through Loki's vile deceit. And, as I thought upon his sad death, a withered leaf came fluttering through the casement, and fell upon my couch. Sad signs and tokens are these, my husband; and much grief, I fear, they foretell."

But Siegfried was deaf to her words of warning, and he laughed at the foolish dream. Then he bade her farewell till even-tide, and hastened to join the party of huntsmen who waited for him impatiently at the gate.

When the party reached the Odenwald, they separated; each man taking his own course, and following his own game. Siegfried, with but one trusty huntsman and his own fleet-footed hound, sought at once the wildest and thickest part of the wood. And great was the slaughter he made among the fierce beasts of the forest; for nothing that was worthy of notice could hide from his sight, or escape him. From his lair in a thorny thicket, a huge wild boar sprang up; and with glaring red eyes, and mouth foaming, and tusks gnashing with rage, he charged fiercely upon the hero. But, with one skilful stroke from his great spear, Siegfried laid the beast dead on the heather. Next he met a tawny lion, couched ready to spring upon him; but, drawing quickly his heavy bow, he sent a quivering arrow through the animal's heart. Then, one after another, he slew a buffalo, four bisons, a mighty elk with branching horns, and many deers and stags and savage beasts.

At one time the hound drove from its hiding-place another wild boar, much greater than the first, and far more fierce. Quickly Siegfried dismounted from his horse, and met the grizzly creature as it rushed with raving fury towards him. The sword of the hero cleft the beast in twain, and its bloody parts lay lifeless on the ground. Then Siegfried's huntsman, in gay mood, said, "My lord, would it not be better to rest a while! If you keep on slaughtering at this rate, there will soon be no game left in Odenwald."

Siegfried laughed heartily at the merry words, and at once called in his hound, saying, "You are right! We will hunt no more until our good friends have joined us."

Soon afterward the call of a bugle was heard; and Gunther and Hagen and Dankwart and Ortwin, with their huntsmen and hounds, came riding up.

"What luck have you had, my friends?" asked Siegfried.

Then Hagen told what game they had taken,—a deer, a young bear, and two small wild boars. But, when they learned what Siegfried had done, the old chief's face grew dark, and he knit his eyebrows, and bit his lips in jealous hate: for four knights, ten huntsmen, and four and twenty hounds, had beaten every bush, and followed every trail; and yet the Nibelungen king, with but one follower and one hound, had slain ten times as much game as they.

While they stood talking over the successes of the day, the sound of a horn was heard, calling the sportsmen together for the mid-day meal; and knights and huntsmen turned their steeds, and rode slowly towards the trysting-place. Suddenly a huge bear, roused by the noise of baying hounds and tramping feet, crossed their pathway.

"Ah!" cried Siegfried, "there goes our friend Bruin, just in time to give us a bit of fun, and some needed sport at dinner. He shall go with us, and be our guest!"

With these words he loosed his hound, and dashed swiftly forwards after the beast. Through thick underbrush and tangled briers, and over fallen trees, the frightened creature ran, until at last it reached a steep hillside. There, in a rocky cleft, it stood at bay, and fought fiercely for its life. When Siegfried came up, and saw that his hound dared not take hold of the furious beast, he sprang from his horse, and seized the bear in his own strong arms, and bound him safely with a stout cord. Then he fastened an end of the cord to his saddle-bows, and remounted his steed. And thus he rode through the forest to the place where the dinner waited, dragging the unwilling bear behind him, while the dog bounded gayly along by his side.

No nobler sight had ever been seen in that forest than that which Gunther's people saw that day. The Nibelungen king was dressed as well became so great a hero. His suit was of the speckled lynx's hide and rich black silk, upon which were embroidered many strange devices, with threads of gold. (But, alas! between the shoulders was the silken lime-leaf that Queen Kriemhild's busy fingers had wrought.) His cap was of the blackest fur, brought from the frozen Siberian land. Over his shoulder was thrown his well-filled quiver, made of lion's skin; and in his hands he carried his bow of mulberry,—a very beam in size, and so strong that no man save himself could bend it. A golden hunting-horn was at his side, and his sunbright shield lay on his saddle-bow; while his mighty sword, the fire-edged Balmung, in its sheath glittering with gemstones, hung from his jewelled belt.

The men who stood around chief Hagen, and who saw the hero coming thus god-like through the greenwood, admired and trembled; and Dankwart whispered a word of caution to his dark-browed brother. But the old chief's face grew gloomier than before; and he scowled fiercely upon the faint-hearted Dankwart, as he hoarsely whispered in return,—

"What though he be Odin himself, still will I dare! It is not I: it is the Norns, who shape every man's fate."

When Siegfried reached the camp with his prize, the huntsmen shouted with delight; and the hounds howled loudly, and shook their chains, and tried hard to get at the shaggy beast. The king leaped to the ground, and unloosed the cords which bound him; and at the same time the hounds were unleashed, and set upon the angry, frightened creature. Hemmed in on every side, the bear rushed blindly forwards, and leaped over the fires, where the cooks were busy with the dinner. Pots and kettles were knocked about in great confusion, and the scared cooks thrown sprawling upon the ground; and many a dainty dish and savory mess was spoiled. The bear fled fast down the forest road, followed by the baying hounds and the fleet-footed warriors. But none dared shoot an arrow at him for fear of killing the dogs; and it seemed as if he would surely escape, so fast he ran away. Then Siegfried bounded forwards, swifter than a deer, overtook the bear, and with one stroke of the sword gave him his death-blow. And all who saw this feat of strength and quickness wondered greatly, and felt that such a hero must indeed be without a peer.

When Gunther's cooks had made the dinner ready, the company sat down on the grass, and all partook of a merry meal; for the bracing air and the morning's sport had made sharp appetites. But, when they had eaten, they were surprised to find that there was nothing to drink. Indeed, there was neither wine nor water in the camp.

"How glad I am," said Siegfried gayly, "that I am not a huntsman by trade, if it is a huntsman's way to go thus dry! Oh for a glass of wine, or even a cup of cold spring-water, to quench my thirst!"

"We will make up for this oversight when we go back home," said Gunther; and his heart was black with falsehood. "The blame in this matter should rest on Hagen, for it was he who was to look after the drinkables."

"My lord," said Hagen, "I fell into a mistake by thinking that we would dine, not here, but at the Spessart Springs; and thither I sent the wine."

"And is there no water near?" asked Siegfried.

"Yes," answered Hagen. "There is a cool, shady spring not far from here, where the water gushes in a clear, cold stream from beneath a linden-tree. Do but forgive me for the lack of wine, and I will lead you to it. It is a rare spring, and the water is almost as good as wine."

"Better than wine for me!" cried Siegfried. And he asked to be shown to the spring at once.

Hagen arose, and pointed to a tree not far away, beneath whose spreading branches Siegfried could see the water sparkling in the sunlight.

"Men have told me," said the chief, "that the Nibelungen king is very fleet of foot, and that no one has ever outstripped him in the race. Time was, when King Gunther and myself were spoken of as very swift runners; and, though we are now growing old, I fancy that many young men would, even now, fail to keep pace with us. Suppose we try a race to the spring, and see which of the three can win."

"Agreed!" cried Siegfried. "We will run; and, if I am beaten, I will kneel down in the grass to him who wins. I will give the odds in your favor too; for I will carry with me my spear, and my shield, and my helmet and sword, and all the trappings of the chase, while you may doff from your shoulders whatever might hinder your speed."

So Gunther and Hagen laid aside all their arms, and put off their heavy clothing; but Siegfried took up his bow and quiver, and his heavy shield, and his beamlike spear. Then the word was given, and all three ran with wondrous speed. Gunther and his chief flew over the grass as light-footed as two wild panthers: but Siegfried sped swift as an arrow shot from the hand of a skilful bowman. He reached the spring when yet the others were not half way to it. He laid his spear and sword, and bow and quiver of arrows, upon the ground, and leaned his heavy shield against the linden-tree; and then he waited courteously for King Gunther to come up, for his knightly honor would not allow him to drink until his host had quenched his thirst.

Gunther, when he reached the spring, stooped over, and drank heartily of the cool, refreshing water; and, after he had risen, Siegfried knelt upon the grass at the edge of the pool to quaff from the same gushing fountain. Stealthily then, and with quickness, did chief Hagen hide his huge bow and his quiver, and his good sword Balmung, and, seizing the hero's spear, he lifted it in air, and with too steady aim struck the silken lime-leaf that the loving Kriemhild had embroidered. Never in all the wide mid-world was known a deed more cowardly, never a baser act. The hero was pierced with his own weapon by one he had deemed his friend. His blood gushed forth in torrents, and dyed the green grass red, and discolored the sparkling water, and even filled the face and eyes of vile Hagen.

Yet, in the hour of death, King Siegfried showed how noble was his soul, how great his strength of will. Up he rose from his bended knees, and fiercely glanced around. Then, had not the evil-eyed chief, who never before had shunned a foe, fled with fleet-footed fear, quick vengeance would have overtaken him. In vain did the dying king look for his bow and his trusty sword: too safely had they been hidden. Then, though death was fast dimming his eyes, he seized his heavy shield, and sprang after the flying Hagen. Swift as the wind he followed him, quickly he overtook him. With his last strength he felled the vile wretch to the ground, and beat him with the shield, until the heavy plates of brass and steel were broken, and the jewels which adorned it were scattered among the grass. The sound of the heavy blows was heard far through the forest; and, had the hero's strength held out, Hagen would have had his reward.[EN#32] But Siegfried, weak and pale from the loss of blood, now staggered, and fell among the trampled flowers of the wood.

Then with his last breath he thus upbraided his false friends:—

"Cowards and traitors, ye! A curse shall fall upon you. My every care has been to serve and please you, and thus I am requited. Bitterly shall you rue this deed. The brand of traitor is set upon your foreheads, and it shall be a mark of loathing and shame to you forever."

Then the weak old Gunther began to wring his hands, and to bewail the death of Siegfried. But the hero bade him hush, and asked him of what use it was to regret an act which could have been done only by his leave and sanction.

"Better to have thought of tears and groans before," said he. "I have always known that you were a man of weak mind, but never did I dream that you could lend yourself to so base a deed. And now, if there is left aught of manliness in your bosom, I charge you to have a care for Kriemhild your sister. Long shall my loved Nibelungen-folk await my coming home."

The glorious hero struggled in the last agony. The grass and flowers were covered with his blood; the trees shivered, as if in sympathy with him, and dropped their leaves upon the ground; the birds stopped singing, and sorrowfully flew away; and a solemn silence fell upon the earth, as if the very heart of Nature had been crushed.

And the men who stood around—all save the four guilty ones—bowed their heads upon their hands, and gave way to one wild burst of grief. Then tenderly they took up Siegfried, and laid him upon a shield, with his mighty weapons by him. And, when the sorrowing Night had spread her black mantle over the mid-world, they carried him silently out of the forest, and across the river, and brought him, by Gunther's orders, to the old castle, which now nevermore would resound with mirth and gladness. And they laid him at Kriemhild's door, and stole sadly away to their own places, and each one thought bitterly of the morrow.[EN#33]



Adventure XX. How the Hoard Was Brought to Burgundy.



And what was done on the morrow?

Too sad is the tale of Kriemhild's woe and her grief for the mighty dead. Let us pass it by in tearful, pitying silence, nor wish to awaken the echoes of that morning of hopeless anguish which dawned on the cold and cheerless dwelling of the kings. For peace had fled from Burgundy, nevermore to return.

Siegfried was dead. Faded, now, was the glory of the Nibelungen Land, and gone was the mid-world's hope.

It is told in ancient story, how men built a funeral-pile far out on the grassy meadows, where the quiet river flows; and how, in busy silence, they laid the sun-dried beams of ash and elm together, and made ready the hero's couch; and how the pile was dight with many a sun-bright shield, with war-coats and glittering helms, and silks and rich dyed cloths from the South-land, and furs, and fine-wrought ivory, and gem-stones priceless and rare; and how, over all, they scattered sweet spices from Araby, and the pleasantest of all perfumes. Then they brought the golden Siegfried, and laid him on his couch; and beside him were his battered shield, and Balmung with its fire-edge bare. And, as the sun rose high in heaven, the noblest earl-folk who had loved Siegfried best touched fire to the funeral-pile. And a pleasant breeze from the Southland fanned the fire to a flame, and the white blaze leaped on high, and all the folk cried out in mighty agony to the gods.

Such was the story that men told to each other when the world was still young, and the heroes were unforgotten.[EN#34] And some said, too, that Brunhild, the fair and hapless queen, died then of a broken heart and of a hopeless, yearning sorrow, and that she was burned with Siegfried on that high-built funeral-pile.

"They are gone,—the lovely, the mighty, the hope of the ancient earth: It shall labor and bear the burden as before the day of their birth:... It shall yearn, and be oft-times holpen, and forget their deeds no more, Till the new sun beams on Balder and the happy sealess shore."[EN#35]

Another and much later story is sometimes told of these last sad days,—how the hero's body was laid in a coffin, and buried in the quiet earth, amid the sorrowful lamentations of all the Rhineland folk; and how, at Kriemhild's earnest wish, it was afterwards removed to the place where now stands the little minster of Lorsch. As to which of these stories is the true one, it is not for me to say. Enough it is to know that Siegfried was dead, and that the spring-time had fled, and the summer-season with all its golden glories had faded away from Rhineland, and that the powers of darkness and of cold and of evil had prevailed.

To this day the city where was the dwelling of the Burgundian kings is called Worms, in remembrance of the dragon, or worm, which Siegfried slew; and a figure of that monster was for many years painted upon the city arms, and borne on the banner of the Burgundians. And, until recently, travellers were shown the Reisen-haus,—a stronghold, which, men say, Siegfried built; and in it were many strange and mighty weapons, which, they claim, were wielded by the hero. The lance which was shown there was a great beam nearly eighty feet in length; and the war-coat, wrought with steel and gold, and bespangled with gem-stones, was a wonder to behold. And now, in the Church of St. Cecilia, you may see what purports to be the hero's grave. And a pleasant meadow, not far from the town, is still called Kriemhild's Rose-garden; while farther away is the place called Drachenfels, or the dragon's field, where, they say, Siegfried met Fafnir. But whether it is the same as the Glittering Heath of the ancient legend, I know not.

And what became of the Hoard of Andvari?

The story is briefly told.[EN#36] When the days of mourning were past, and the people had gone back sadly to their homes, Queen Kriemhild began to speak of returning to the land of the Nibelungens. But Ute, her aged mother, could not bear to part with her, and besought her to stay, for a while at least, in the now desolate Burgundian castle. And Gernot and Giselher, her true and loving brothers, added their words of entreaty also. And so, though heart-sick, and with many misgivings, she agreed to abide for a season in this cheerless and comfortless place. Many days, even months, dragged by, and still she remained; for she found it still harder and harder to tear herself away from her mother, and all that her heart held dear. Yet never, for three years and more, did she even speak to Gunther, or by any sign show that she remembered him. And, as for Hagen, no words could utter the deep and settled hate she felt towards him. But the dark-browed chief cared nought either for love or hate; and he walked erect, as in the days of yore, and he smiled and frowned alike for both evil and good. And he said, "It was not I: it was the Norns, who wove the woof of his life and mine."

The years went by on leaden wings, and brought no sunlight to Gunther's dwelling; for his days were full of sadness, and his nights of fearful dreams. At length he said to chief Hagen, "If there is aught in the mid-world that can drive away this gloom, I pray thee to help me find it; for madness steals upon me."

"There is one thing," answered Hagen, "which might brighten our land again, and lift up your drooping spirits, and bring gladness to your halls."

"What is that?" asked the king.

"It is the Nibelungen Hoard," said the chief. "It is the wondrous treasure of Andvari, which Siegfried gave as a gift to Kriemhild. If it were ours, we might become the masters of the world."

"But how can we obtain it?"

"It is Kriemhild's," was the answer. "But she does not care for it; neither could she use it if she wished. If you could only gain her favor and forgiveness, I feel sure that she would let you do with it as you wish."

Then Gunther besought his younger brothers to intercede for him with Kriemhild, that she would so far forgive him as to look upon his face, and speak with him once more. And this the queen at last consented to do. And, when Gunther came into her presence, she was so touched at sight of his haggard face and whitened locks, and his earnest words of sorrow, that she forgave him the great wrong that he had done, and welcomed him again as her brother. And he swore that never would he again wrong her or hers, nor do aught to grieve her. But it was not until a long time after this, that he proposed to her that they should bring the Hoard of Andvari away from the Nibelungen Land.

"For, if it were here, dear sister," he said, "it might be of great use to you."

"Do whatever seems best to you," answered Kriemhild. "Only remember the oath that you have given me."

Then Gunther, because he was anxious to see the wondrous Hoard, but more because he was urged on by Hagen, made ready to send to the Nibelungen Land to bring away the treasure by Kriemhild's command. Eight thousand men, with Gernot and Giselher as their leaders, sailed over the sea in stanch vessels, and landed on the Nibelungen shore. And when they told who they were, and whence they came, and showed the queen's signet-ring, they were welcomed heartily by the fair-haired folk of Mist Land, who gladly acknowledged themselves the faithful liegemen of the loved Kriemhild.

When the Burgundians made known their errand to Alberich the dwarf, who still held watch and ward over the mountain stronghold, he was much amazed, and he grieved to part with his cherished treasure.

"But," said he to his little followers, who stood around him by thousands, each anxious to fight the intruders,—"but there is Queen Kriemhild's order and her signet-ring, and we must, perforce, obey. Yet had we again the good Tarnkappe which Siegfried took from us, the Hoard should never leave us."

Then sadly he gave up the keys, and the Burgundians began to remove the treasure. For four whole days and nights they toiled, carrying the Hoard in huge wagons down to the sea. And on the fifth day they set sail, and without mishap arrived in good time at Worms. And many of Alberich's people, the swarthy elves of the cave, came with Gernot to Rhineland; for they could not live away from the Hoard. And it is said, that hidden among the gold and the gem-stones was the far-famed Wishing-rod, which would give to its owner the power of becoming the lord of the wide mid-world.

And the vast treasure was stored in the towers and vaults of the castle. And Queen Kriemhild alone held the keys, and lavishly she scattered the gold wherever it was needed most. The hungry were fed, the naked were clothed, the sick were cared for; and everybody near and far blessed the peerless Queen of Nibelungen Land.

Then Hagen, always plotting evil, whispered to King Gunther, and said, "It is dangerous to suffer your sister to hold so vast a treasure. All the people are even now ready to leave you, and follow her. She will yet plot to seize the kingdom, and destroy us."

And he urged the king to take the keys and to make the Nibelungen Hoard his own.

But Gunther answered, "I have already done too great a wrong. And I have sworn to my sister never to harm her again, or to do aught that will grieve her."

"Let the guilt, then, rest on me," said Hagen. And he strode away, and took the keys from Kriemhild by force.

When Gernot and Giselher heard of this last vile act of the evil-eyed chief, they waxed very angry, and vowed that they would help their sister regain that which was her own. But the wary Hagen was not to be foiled; for, while the brothers were away from the burgh, he caused the great Hoard to be carried to the river, at a place called Lochheim, and sunk, fathoms deep, beneath the water. And then, for fear of the vengeance which might be wreaked upon him, he fled from Rhineland, and hid himself for a while among the mountains and the barren hill-country of the South.

And this was the end of the fated Hoard of Andvari.



The After Word.



Such is the story of Siegfried (or Sigurd), as we gather it from various German and Scandinavian legends. In this recital I have made no attempt to follow any one of the numerous originals, but have selected here and there such incidents as best suited my purpose in constructing one connected story which would convey to your minds some notion of the beauty and richness of our ancient myths. In doing this, I have drawn, now from the Volsunga Saga, now from the Nibelungen Lied, now from one of the Eddas, and now from some of the minor legends relating to the great hero of the North. These ancient stories, although differing widely in particulars, have a certain general relationship and agreement which proves beyond doubt a common origin. "The primeval myth," says Thomas Carlyle, "whether it were at first philosophical truth, or historical incident, floats too vaguely on the breath of men: each has the privilege of inventing, and the far wider privilege of borrowing and new modelling from all that preceded him. Thus, though tradition may have but one root, it grows, like a banian, into a whole overarching labyrinth of trees."

If you would follow the tradition of Siegfried to the end; if you would learn how, after the great Hoard had been buried in the Rhine, the curse of the dwarf Andvari still followed those who had possessed it, and how Kriemhild wreaked a terrible vengeance upon Siegfried's murderers,—you must read the original story as related in the Volsung Myth or in the Nibelungen Song. Our story ends with Siegfried.

The episodes which I have inserted here and there—the stories of AEgir, and of Balder, and of Idun, and of Thor—do not, as you may know, belong properly to the legend of Siegfried; but I have thrown them in, in order to acquaint you with some of the most beautiful mythical conceptions of our ancestors.

A grand old people were those early kinsmen of ours,—not at all so savage and inhuman as our histories would sometimes make us believe. For however mistaken their notions may have been, and however ignorant they were, according to our ideas of things, they were strong-hearted, brave workers; and, so far as opportunity was afforded them, they acted well their parts. What their notions were of true manhood,—a strong mind in a strong body, good, brave, and handsome,—may be learned from the story of Siegfried.

End of The Story of Siegfried.



The Story of Siegfried Endnotes.



[EN#1] Siegfried's Boyhood.

"All men agree that Siegfried was a king's son. He was born, as we here have good reason to know, 'at Santen in Netherland,' of Siegmund and the fair Siegelinde; yet by some family misfortune or discord, of which the accounts are very various, he came into singular straits during boyhood, having passed that happy period of life, not under the canopies of costly state, but by the sooty stithy, in one Mimer, a blacksmith's shop."—Thomas Carlyle, The Nibelungen Lied.

The older versions of this story represent Siegfried, under the name of Sigurd, as being brought up at the court of the Danish King Hialprek; his own father Sigmund having been slain in battle, as related in this chapter. He was early placed under the tuition of Regin, or Regino, an elf, who instructed his pupil in draughts, runes, languages, and various other accomplishments.—See Preface to Vollmer's Nibelunge Not, also the Song of Sigurd Fafnisbane, in the Elder Edda, and the Icelandic Volsunga Saga.



[EN#2]—Mimer.

"The Vilkinasaga brings before us yet another smith, Mimer, by whom not only is Velint instructed in his art, but Sigfrit (Siegfried) is brought up,—another smith's apprentice. He is occasionally mentioned in the later poem of Biterolf, as Mime the Old. The old name of Munster in Westphalia was Mimigardiford; the Westphalian Minden was originally Mimidun; and Memleben on the Unstrut, Mimileba.. .. The elder Norse tradition names him just as often, and in several different connections. In one place, a Mimingus, a wood-satyr, and possessor of a sword and jewels, is interwoven into the myth of Balder and Hoder. The Edda gives a higher position to its Mimer. He has a fountain, in which wisdom and understanding lie hidden: drinking of it every morning, he is the wisest, most intelligent, of men. To Mimer's fountain came Odin, and desired a drink, but did not receive it till he had given one of his eyes in pledge, and hidden it in the fountain: this accounts for Odin being one-eyed.... Mimer is no Asa, but an exalted being with whom the Asas hold converse, of whom they make use,—the sum total of wisdom, possibly an older Nature-god. Later fables degraded him into a wood-sprite, or clever smith."—Grimm's Deutsche Mythologie, I. p. 379.

Concerning the Mimer of the Eddas, Professor Anderson says, "The name Mimer means the knowing. The Giants, being older than the Asas, looked deeper than the latter into the darkness of the past. They had witnessed the birth of the gods and the beginning of the world, and they foresaw their downfall. Concerning both these events, the gods had to go to them for knowledge. It is this wisdom that Mimer keeps in his fountain."—Norse Mythology, p 209.

In the older versions of the legend, the smith who cared for Siegfried (Sigurd) is called, as we have before noticed, Regin. He is thus described by Morris:—

"The lore of all men he knew, And was deft in every cunning, save the dealings of the sword. So sweet was his tongue-speech fashioned, that men trowed his every word. His hand with the harp-strings blended was the mingler of delight With the latter days of sorrow: all tales he told aright. The Master of the Masters in the smithying craft was he; And he dealt with the wind and the weather and the stilling of the sea; Nor might any learn him leech-craft, for before that race was made, And that man-folk's generation, all their life-days had he weighed."

Sigurd the Volsung, Bk. II.

[EN#3]—The Sword.

"By this sword Balmung also hangs a tale. Doubtless it was one of those invaluable weapons sometimes fabricated by the old Northern smiths, compared with which our modern Foxes and Ferraras and Toledos are mere leaden tools. Von der Hagen seems to think it simply the sword Mimung under another name; in which case, Siegfried's old master, Mimer, had been the maker of it, and called it after himself, as if it had been his son."—Carlyle, on the Nibelungen Lied, note.

In Scandinavian legends, the story of Mimer and Amilias is given, differing but slightly from the rendering in this chapter.—See Weber and Jamieson's Illustrations of Northern Antiquities.

In the older versions of the myth, the sword is called Gram, or the Wrath. It was wrought from the shards, or broken pieces, of Sigmund's sword, the gift of Odin. It was made by Regin for Sigurd's (Siegfried's) use, and its temper was tested as here described.



[EN#4]—Sigmund The Volsung.

Sigmund the Volsung, in the Volsunga Saga, is represented as the father of Sigurd (Siegfried); but there is such a marked contrast between him, and the wise, home-abiding King Siegmund of the later stories, that I have thought proper to speak of them here as two different individuals. The word "Sigmund," or "Siegmund," means literally the mouth of victory. The story of the Volsungs, as here supposed to be related by Mimer, is derived mainly from the Volsunga Saga.



[EN#5]—Siegfried's Journey Into The Forest.



"In the shop of Mimer, Siegfried was nowise in his proper element, ever quarrelling with his fellow-apprentices, nay, as some say, breaking the hardest anvils into shivers by his too stout hammering; so that Mimer, otherwise a first-rate smith, could by no means do with him there. He sends him, accordingly, to the neighboring forest to fetch charcoal, well aware that a monstrous dragon, one Regin, the smith's own brother, would meet him, and devour him. But far otherwise it proved."—Carlyle, on The Nibelungen Lied.



[EN#6]—The Norns.

The Norns are the Fates, which watch over man through life. They are Urd the Past, Verdande the Present, and Skuld the Future. They approach every new-born child, and utter his doom. They are represented as spinning the thread of fate, one end of which is hidden by Urd in the far east, the other by Verdande in the far west. Skuld stands ready to rend it in pieces. —See Grimm's Teutonic Mythology, p. 405, also Anderson's Norse Mythology, p. 209.

The three weird women in Shakespeare's Tragedy of Macbeth represent a later conception of the three Norns, now degraded to mere witches.

Compare the Norns with the Fates of the Greek Mythology. These, also, are three in number. They sit clothed in white, and garlanded, singing of destiny. Clotho, the Past, spins; Lachesis, the Present, divides; and Atropos, the Future, stands ready with her shears to cut the thread.



[EN#7]—The Idea of Fatality.

Throughout the story of the Nibelungs and Volsungs, of Sigurd and of Siegfried,—whether we follow the older versions or the mote recent renderings,—there is, as it were, an ever-present but indefinable shadow of coming fate, "a low, inarticulate voice of Doom," foretelling the inevitable. This is but in consonance with the general ideas of our Northern ancestors regarding the fatality which shapes and controls every man's life. These ideas are embodied in more than one ancient legend. We find them in the old Anglo-Saxon poem of Beowulf. "To us," cries Beowulf in his last fight, "to us it shall be as our Weird betides,—that Weird that is every man's lord!" "Each man of us shall abide the end of his life-work; let him that may work, work his doomed deeds ere death comes!" Similar ideas prevailed among the Greeks. Read, for example, that passage in the Iliad describing the parting of Hector and Andromache, and notice the deeper meaning of Hector's words.



[EN#8]—Regin.



As we have already observed (EN#1), the older versions of this myth called Siegfried's master and teacher Regin, while the more recent versions call him Mimer. We have here endeavored to harmonize the two versions by representing Mimer as being merely Regin in disguise.



[EN#9]—Gripir.

"A man of few words was Gripir; but he knew of all deeds that had been; And times there came upon him, when the deeds to be were seen: No sword had he held in his hand since his father fell to field, And against the life of the slayer he bore undinted shield: Yet no fear in his heart abided, nor desired he aught at all: But he noted the deeds that had been, and looked for what should befall." Morris's Sigurd the Volsung, Bk. II.

[EN#10]—The Hoard.

This story is found in both the Elder and the Younger Eddas, and is really the basis upon which the entire plot of the legend of Sigurd, or Siegfried, is constructed. See also EN#18.



[EN#11]—The Dragon.

The oldest form of this story is the Song of Sigurd Fafnisbane, in the Elder Edda. The English legend of St. George and the Dragon was probably derived from the same original sources. A similar myth may be found among all Aryan peoples. Sometimes it is a treasure, sometimes a beautiful maiden, that the monster guards, or attempts to destroy. Its first meaning was probably this: The maiden, or the treasure, is the earth in its beauty and fertility. "The monster is the storm-cloud. The hero who fights it is the sun, with his glorious sword, the lightning-flash. By his victory the earth is relieved from her peril. The fable has been varied to suit the atmospheric peculiarities of different climes in which the Aryans found themselves.... In Northern mythology the serpent is probably the winter cloud, which broods over and keeps from mortals the gold of the sun's light and heat, till in the spring the bright orb overcomes the powers of darkness and tempest, and scatters his gold over the face of the earth." This myth appears in a great variety of forms among the Scandinavian and German nations. In the Eddas, Sigurd (Siegfried) is represented as roasting the heart of Fafnir, and touching it to his lips. We have ventured to present a less revolting version.—See Baring-Gould's Curious Myths of the Middle Ages.

"The slaying of the dragon Fafnir reminds us of Python, whom Apollo overcame; and, as Python guarded the Delphic Oracle, the dying Fafnir prophesies."—Jacob Grimm.



[EN#12.]

In order to harmonize subsequent passages in the story as related in different versions, we here represent Siegfried as turning his back upon the Glittering Heath, and leaving the Hoard to some other hero or discoverer. In the Younger Edda, Siegfried (Sigurd) rides onward until he comes to Fafnir's bed, from which "he took out all the gold, packed it in two bags, and laid it on Grane's (Greyfell's) back, then got on himself and rode away."



[EN#13]—BRAGI. This episode of Bragi and his vessel is no part of the original story of Siegfried, but is here introduced in order to acquaint you with some of the older myths of our ancestors. Bragi was the impersonation of music and eloquence, and here represents the music of Nature,—the glad songs and sounds of the spring-time. "Above any other god," says Grimm, "one would like to see a more general veneration of Bragi revived, in whom was vested the gift of poetry and eloquence.... He appears to have stood in pretty close relation to AEgir."



[EN#14]—AEgir.

"AEgir was the god presiding over the stormy sea. He entertains the gods every harvest, and brews ale for them. The name still survives in provincial English for the sea-wave on rivers."—Anderson's Norse Mythology. See Carlyle's Heroes and Hero-Worship.



[EN#15]—The Valkyries.

See Grimm's Teutonic Mythology, p. 417, and Anderson's Norse Mythology, p. 265.



[EN#16]—Brunhild.

In the Elder Edda, Brunhild's inaccessible hall stands on a mountain, where she was doomed to sleep under her shield until Sigurd should release her. In the Nibelungen Lied, she is represented as ruling in Isenland, an island far over the sea. The well-known story of the Sleeping Beauty is derived from this myth.



[EN#17]—Nibelungen Land.

"Vain were it to inquire where that Nibelungen Land specially is. Its very name is Nebel-land, or Nifl-land, the land of Darkness, of Invisibility.... Far beyond the firm horizon, that wonder-bearing region swims on the infinite waters, unseen by bodily eye, or, at most, discerned as a faint streak hanging in the blue depths, uncertain whether island or cloud."—Carlyle, on The Nibelungen Lied.



[EN#18]—Schilbung and Nibelung.

"Old King Nibelung, the former lord of the land, had left, when he died, a mighty hoard concealed within a mountain-cavern. As Siegfried rode past the mountain-side alone, he found Schilbung and Nibelung, the king's sons, seated at the mouth of the cavern surrounded by more gold and precious stones than a hundred wagons could bear away. Espying Siegfried, they called upon him to settle their dispute, offering him as reward their father's mighty sword Balmung."—Auber Forestier's Translation of the Nibelungen Lied.

We have here made some slight variations from the original versions. (See also EN#12.)

An ancient legend relates how King Schilbung had obtained the Hoard in the upper Rhine valley, and how he was afterwards slain by his brother Niblung. This Niblung possessed a magic ring in the shape of a coiled serpent with ruby eyes. It had been presented to him by a prince named Gunthwurm, who had come to him in the guise of a serpent, desiring the hand of his daughter in marriage. This ring, according to the Eddas, was the one taken by Loki from the dwarf Andvari, and was given by Sigurd (Siegfried) to Brunhild in token of betrothal. It was the cause of all the disasters that afterwards occurred.—See W. Jordan's Sigfridssaga. See also EN#10.



[EN#19]

"... Siegfried the hero good Failed the long task to finish: this stirred their angry mood. The treasure undivided he needs must let remain, When the two kings indignant set on him with their train; But Siegfried gripped sharp Balmung (so hight their father's sword), And took from them their country, and the beaming, precious hoard." The Nibelungenlied, Lettsom, 96, 97



[EN#20]—Siegfried's Welcome Home.

In the Nibelungen Lied this is our first introduction to the hero. The "High-tide" held in honor of Siegfried's coming to manhood, and which we suppose to have occurred at this time, forms the subject of the Second Adventure in that poem.



[EN#21]—Kriemhild's Dream.

This forms the subject of the first chapter of the Nibelungen Lied. "The eagles of Kriemhild's dream," says Auber Forestier, "are winter-giants, whose wont it was to transform themselves into eagles; while the pure gods were in the habit of assuming the falcon's form."



[EN#22]—Idun.

The story of Idun and her Apples is related in the Younger Edda. It is there represented as having been told by Bragi himself to his friend AEgir. This myth means, that the ever-renovating spring (Idun) being taken captive by the desolating winter (Thjasse), all Nature (all the Asa-folk) languishes until she regains her freedom through the intervention of the summer's heat (Loki). —See Anderson's Norse Mythology.



[EN#23]—Balder.

The story of Balder is, in reality, the most ancient form of the Siegfried myth. Both Balder and Siegfried are impersonations of the beneficent light of the summer's sun, and both are represented as being treacherously slain by the powers of winter. The errand of Hermod to the Halls of Death (Hela) reminds us of the errand of Hermes to Hades to bring back Persephone to her mother Demetre. We perceive also a resemblance in this story to the myth of Orpheus, in which that hero is described as descending into the lower regions to bring away his wife Eurydice.



[EN#24]

The making of rich clothing for the heroes is frequently referred to in the Nibelungen Lied. Carlyle says, "This is a never-failing preparative for all expeditions, and is always specified and insisted on with a simple, loving, almost female impressiveness."



[EN#25]—The Winning of Brunhild.

The story of the outwitting of Brunhild, as related in the pages which follow, is essentially the same as that given in the Nibelungen Lied. It is quite different from the older versions.



[EN#26]—Sif.

Sif corresponds to the Ceres of the Southern mythology. (See Grimm, p. 309.) The story of Loki and the Dwarfs is derived from the Younger Edda. It has been beautifully rendered by the German poet Oelenschlager, a translation of whose poem on this subject may be found in Longfellow's Poets and Poetry of Europe.



[EN#27]—Eigill.

Eigill is the original William Tell. The story is related in the Saga of Thidrik. For a full history of the Tell myth, see Grimm's Teutonic Mythology, p. 380, and Baring-Gould's Curious Myths of the Middle Ages, p. 110.



[EN#28]—Welland the Smith.

The name of this smith is variously given as Weland, Wieland, Welland, Volundr, Velint etc. The story is found in the Vilkina Saga, and was one of the most popular of middle age myths. (See Grimm's Mythology.) Sir Walter Scott, in his novel of Kenilworth, has made use of this legend in introducing the episode of Wayland Smith.



[EN#29]—Vidar[FN#1] the Silent.

"Vidar is the name of the silent Asa. He has a very thick shoe, and he is the strongest next to Thor. From him the gods have much help in all hard tasks."—The Younger Edda (Anderson's translation).

[FN#1] The word Vidar means forest.



[EN#30]—Loki.

"Loki, in nature, is the corrupting element in air, fire, and water. In the bowels of the earth he is the volcanic flame, in the sea he appears as a fierce serpent, and in the lower world we recognize him as pale death. Like Odin, he pervades all nature. He symbolizes sin, shrewdness, deceitfulness, treachery, malice etc."—Anderson's Mythology, p. 372.

He corresponds to the Ahriman of the Persians, to the Satan of the Christians, and remotely to the Prometheus of the Greeks.



[EN#31]—The Quarrel of the Queens.

In the ancient versions, the culmination of this quarrel occurred while the queens were bathing in the river: in the Nibelungen Lied it happened on the steps leading up to the door of the church.



[EN#32]—Hagen.

Hagen corresponds to the Hoder of the more ancient myth of Balder. In the Sigurd Sagas he is called Hogni, and is a brother instead of an uncle, of Gunther (Gunnar).



[EN#33]—The Death of Siegfried.

This story is related here essentially as found in the Nibelungen Lied. It is quite differently told in the older versions. Siegfried's invulnerability save in one spot reminds us of Achilles, who also was made invulnerable by a bath, and who could be wounded only in the heel.



[EN#34]—The Burial of Siegfried.

The story of the burning of Siegfried's body upon a funeral-pile, as related of Sigurd in the older myths, reminds us of the burning of Balder upon the ship "Ringhorn." (See p. 162.) The Nibelungen Lied represents him as being buried in accordance with the rites of the Roman-Catholic Church. This version of the story must, of course, have been made after the conversion of the Germans to Christianity. "When the Emperor Frederick III. (1440-93) visited Worms after his Netherlands campaign," says Forestier, "he undertook to have the mighty hero's bones disinterred, probably in view of proving the truth of the marvellous story then sung throughout Germany; but, although he had the ground dug into until water streamed forth, no traces of these became manifest."



[EN#35]—Morris: Sigurd the Volsung, Bk. III.

[EN#36]—The Hoard.

The story of bringing the Hoard from Nibelungen Land belongs to the later versions of the myth, and fitly closes the First Part of the Nibelungen Lied. Lochheim, the place where the Hoard was sunk, was not far from Bingen on the Rhine.



[EN#37]—a Short Vocabulary of the Principal Proper Names Mentioned in this Story.

AEGIR. The god of the sea. ALBERICH and ANDVARI. Dwarfs who guard the great Hoard. ASA. A name applied to the gods of the Norse mythology. ASGARD. The home of the gods. BALDER. The god of the summer sunlight. BRAGI. The god of eloquence and of poetry. DRAUPNER. Odin's ring, which gives fertility to the earth. FAFNIR. The dragon whom Siegfried slays. FENRIS-WOLF. The monster who in the last twilight slays Odin. FREYJA. The goddess of love. REY. The god of peace and plenty. GRIPIR. The giant who gives wise counsel to Siegfried (Sigurd). GUNTHER. In the older myths called Gunnar. HEIMDAL. The heavenly watchman. HELA. The goddess of death. HERMOD. The quick messenger who is sent to Hela for Balder. HODER. The winter-god. He slays Balder. HOENIR. One of the three most ancient gods. HUGIN. Odin's raven, Thought. IDUN. The goddess of spring. IVALD. A skilful dwarf. JOTUNHEIM. The home of the giants. KRIEMHILD. In the older myths called Gudrun. LOKI. The mischief-maker. The god of evil. MIMER. In the later German mythology a skilful smith. In the older mythology a wise giant. NORNS. The three Fates,—Urd, Verdande, and Skuld. ODIN. The chief of the gods. REGIN. The teacher of Sigurd, by whom he is slain. SIEGFRIED. In the older myths called Sigurd. SIF. Thor's wife. SLEIPNER. Odin's eight-footed horse. TYR. The god of war. THOR. The god of thunder. The foe of the giants. VALHAL. The hall of the slain. VALKYRIES. The choosers of the slain. Odin's handmaidens. VIDAR. The silent god. YMIR. The huge giant out of whose body the world was made.

THE END