Late at eventide he came to the earth-dwelling, and when Sigmund had welcomed the boy he bade him make ready the bread for their evening meal. "For I," said he, "must go seek firewood." And with these words he gave the meal bag into his hands and left the hut.

But he could see no trace of any bread making when he came back, so he asked if the food was ready.

"No," said the boy, "I dared not set hand in the meal sack, because I saw something move in the meal."

Then Sigmund knew that the boy had the heart of a mouse, and he sent him back to his mother.

The next winter Signy sent her second son to him, and Sigmund tested him in like manner. But he too showed his coward's heart, and was sent home again.

As time went on Signy had another son, whom she called Sinfiotli. He was tall and strong and fair of face, like unto the Volsungs; and before he was ten years of age, she sent him to Sigmund. But first she tested him herself by sewing his shirt to his skin and then suddenly snatching it off again, whereat the child did but laugh at her, saying: "Full little would a Volsung care for such a smart as that."

So the boy came to Sigmund, who bade him knead the meal while he went to fetch firewood.

This time the bread stood ready baked upon the hearth when he came back, whereupon he asked Sinfiotli if he had found nothing in the meal.

"Ay," said the boy, "I saw there was something living in the meal when I first began to knead it; but I have kneaded all together, both the meal and whatever was therein."

Then Sigmund gave a great laugh, and caught the boy in his arms, saying: "Naught wilt thou eat of this bread to-night, for thou hast kneaded up therewith the most deadly of serpents."

Though no sting from outside could harm Sinfiotli, he could neither eat nor drink venom and live. But Sigmund could eat of the bread, since no poison could harm him.

From that day the training of the lad became Sigmund's constant care, and he grudged no pains in the effort to make him worthy of a Volsung's teaching.

In his desire to make him hardy and daring beyond his years he took Sinfiotli with him on all his expeditions. Together they lived the wild life of outlaws, faring far and wide through the woods, and slaying men for their wealth. And the boy forgot his father and thought as a Volsung.

Now it befell that on a day, as they roamed through the woods, they came upon a certain house, wherein lay two men, with great gold rings on wrists and ankles, fast asleep. Over their heads hung the skins of two grey wolves, and by this Sigmund knew that they were king's sons who had been turned into were-wolves. Every tenth night would they come out of their wolf skins and return to them again at dawn.

Then did Sigmund and Sinfiotli, half in jest, put on the wolf skins while the men lay asleep; and having done this they could in nowise rid themselves of them till the appointed time. They rushed forth howling as wolves howl, though each knew the meaning of the sound, and they lay out in the wild woods all that night.

Next morning each prepared to go his separate way to seek food, and first they made a compact that they would risk the attack of seven men; but if more set upon them, each would howl for the other in wolfish wise.

"For thou art young and over-bold," said Sigmund, "and men will think well of themselves when they take thee."

Then each went his way, but before Sigmund had gone far he was attacked by a band of eight men. Then he gave forth the long wolf howl, and Sinfiotli came and slew them all, and returned his way again.

A few hours later eleven men met Sinfiotli in the woods and tried to kill him, but he fought them in such wise that they were all slain. Then, being weary, he crawled under an oak to take his rest. Soon came Sigmund, and seeing the dead men lying on the ground, he asked: "Why didst thou not call for help?"

But Sinfiotli only yawned and said: "I was loth to call on thee to help me slay so few as eleven men."

These words so offended Sigmund that he sprang upon Sinfiotli and bit him in the throat so sorely that he lay dead upon the ground.

Then was Sigmund heavy at heart, for he had grown to love the boy, and he cursed the wolf skin, from which he could not get free. With much difficulty, however, he succeeded in dragging the body to the hut, where he crouched beside it, howling for grief.

Now, as he sat, he saw two weasels come from behind a tree, and one bit the other in the throat, so that it lay to all appearance dead upon the ground. Then the first weasel ran into a thicket and brought a leaf in its mouth and laid it upon the wound; and immediately its companion sprang up and scampered off, perfectly cured. A moment later a raven, in his flight overhead, dropped a leaf of the same kind at Sigmund's feet.

Then he knew that Odin had sent to his aid, and he took the leaf and drew it over Sinfiotli's hurt, and the lad sprang up quite well and strong again.

So they lay down together in their earth-house till the time came to put off their wolf skins; and then they burnt them with fire and prayed the Asa folk to let no further harm come through the spell of the evil shapes.

Now when Sinfiotli was grown to manhood, Sigmund having tried him fairly and found him of true Volsung blood, plotted with him to avenge his kinsmen and exact the penalty from King Siggeir. Wherefore, on a certain day they left the earth-house and came to the palace of the king; and they gained, unperceived, a lurking-place amongst the casks of ale which were stacked in the entrance to the hall.

Now Signy and the king were sitting in the hall, and two of their younger children were trundling a golden ball along the floor. Suddenly a golden ring came off the ball and rolled behind the casks of ale, and the little ones ran after it and discovered the two big, grim men with helmets on their heads and swords in their hands.

Screaming with fright the children rushed to their father with news of what they had seen.

Then the king summoned his warriors, and a rush was made to where Sigmund and Sinfiotli lay hidden. They were quickly surrounded; and though they fought desperately, they were taken and fast bound.

That night the king pondered what would be the worst and most lingering death he could mete out to them; and when morning came he ordered a great hollow mound of stones and turf to be made, with a large flat stone, extending from wall to wall, in the midst; and he ordered the prisoners to be buried alive, one on each side of this stone, so that they could hear each other speak but might in nowise pass through to one another.

Now, while the servants were closing in the mound, came Signy along with a bundle of straw in her arms, and this she cast down to Sinfiotli, bidding the men say nothing of this to the king; and they promised, and set the topmost stones, and left the two to die.

Presently Sinfiotli called to Sigmund and said: "I at anyrate shall not starve for awhile, for the queen has thrown in a lump of swine's flesh wrapped in straw."

A moment later he gave a shout of joy, for hidden in the meat he found the magic sword of Sigmund, which he knew by the hilt, for Sigmund had often talked to him of this weapon.

He now drove the point with all his strength into the big stone, and it passed quite through, so that Sigmund caught the point and pulled to and fro; and in this wise they sawed right through that mighty stone, and stood together in the mound. But they stayed not there, for with that good sword they soon cut their way through stones and iron and turf.

Then, very softly, they crept to the king's hall where all men slept, and set wood around it; and having secured the door they set fire to the wood.

It was not long ere the folk within were awakened by the smoke and flames, and the king cried out: "Who kindled this fire in which I burn?"

"I," replied Sigmund, "with Sinfiotli, my sister's son, that you may know well that all the Volsungs are not yet dead."

Then he entreated his sister to come out into a place of safety; but she would not. "Merrily now will I die with King Siggeir, though I was not merry to wed him," said she, and she perished in the fire with her husband and his men.

Sigmund and Sinfiotli now gathered together folk and ships and returned to the land of the Volsungs, where they were warmly welcomed.

And thus ended the great feud between the Volsungs and the Goths.



CHAPTER XVI

How Sigmund Fought His Last Battle

This is the tale the Northmen tell of how Sigmund took Hiordis to wife, and was slain of the might of Odin.

Now Sigmund in course of time became the greatest king of all the Volsungs; and Sinfiotli was the captain of his host.

And it came to pass that Sinfiotli loved a fair woman and desired to have her for his wife; but the brother of Sigmund's queen was also in love with her. So they fought together in a distant land, and Sinfiotli slew his rival.

Many another battle did he fight, until he had become renowned above all men; and in the autumn-tide he turned home again.

And when he had told all his news to King Sigmund he went to the queen, and told how he had slain her brother in fair fight. Now when she heard this the queen was wroth, and bade him begone from the kingdom, nor would she listen to his words about the quarrel. But Sigmund forbade him to depart, and, declaring that her brother had been slain in fair fight, offered to his wife much gold in atonement for the unhappy deed.

Then the queen, seeing that her will was not likely to prevail, bowed her head, and said: "Have thy way in this matter, my lord, for it is right that so it should be."

But in her heart she harboured evil thoughts against Sinfiotli. Then she held a funeral feast for her dead brother, and bade thither many great men.

And at that feast, as was the custom in those days, the queen carried horns of mead to the chief guests. And when she came to Sinfiotli in his turn she put the mighty horn into his hands, saying, with a smile: "Come now and drink, fair nephew."

But Sinfiotli looked therein and said: "Nay; for there is a charm within the mead."

"Give it to me," quoth Sigmund, when he heard those words. And he took the horn and drank off the mead.

But the queen's face darkened, and she taunted Sinfiotli, saying: "Must other men quaff thy drink for thee?"

And she came a second time and gave the horn into his hands, saying: "Art thou a coward after all? Come now and drink."

But he looked into the horn, and lo: "Guile is in the drink," said he.

Sigmund again seized the vessel, saying: "Give it then to me," and drank the full draught.

Then the queen came to Sinfiotli a third time, and mocked him, saying: "How is this that thou fearest to take thy mead like a man? If thou hast the heart of a Volsung, drink now thy portion."

But again he looked on the horn, and said: "Venom is therein."

Now Sigmund by this time was weary of drinking, and he said: "Pour it through thy beard then, and all will be well." But Sinfiotli mistook his meaning, and thought he desired him to drink the mead; and he drank, and straightway fell down dead to the ground.

Then the heart of Sigmund was full of grief at his kinsman's end. He would let no man touch him, but took him in his arms and fared away to the wild woods and so to the seashore. And behold, there was an old man sitting in a little boat; on his head was a grey hat pulled well over his face, and over his shoulders a blue-grey cloak.

"Wilt thou be ferried across the bay?" asked the old man; and Sigmund bowed his head. But the boat was too little to carry all at once; so Sinfiotli was laid therein and Sigmund stood by on the shore.

A moment later both boat and ferryman had vanished from before his eyes.

Then Sigmund knew that All-Father Odin had himself come for his kinsman and had carried him to the halls of Asgard, and, after he had mused awhile upon what had befallen, he returned to his folk; but because of the wrong that she had done he would not look upon his queen again, and soon afterwards she died.

Now there lived in a neighbouring kingdom a mighty and famous king, who had a daughter named Hiordis; and she was the fairest and wisest of women. And it came to pass that King Sigmund heard it told of her that she was the only woman who was fitted to be his wife; and he made a journey to the court of the king her father, and looked on her and loved her. And her father listened graciously to his proposal that he should marry his daughter.

But at that same time came King Lygni, son of Hunding; and he also demanded the hand of Hiordis in marriage. And the king, fearful lest trouble should come, called his daughter, and said: "Full wise art thou, my daughter, and it is fitting that thou alone shalt choose thy husband. Say now which of these two kings thou wilt have, and I will abide by thy choice."

And Hiordis said: "I will choose King Sigmund, though he is old and stricken in years, for the greater valour has been his."

So to him she was betrothed, and King Lygni was obliged to depart. And in due time a great wedding feast was made, and Sigmund and Hiordis were married with all the rites customary in the Northland, after which they returned to Sigmund's own kingdom.

But within a few months news was brought that King Lygni had gathered together a vast army, and was marching upon the Volsungs with intent to destroy them utterly. So King Sigmund hastily got together his fighting men and went out to his enemy, and they met in an open space in the middle of a wood. And Hiordis carried away the king's treasure and hid herself in the wood with her handmaid, in a place from whence she could watch the fight.

The Vikings that came up from the sea were greater in number by far than the warriors of Sigmund. But Sigmund was a host in himself, and all the fierce strength of the Volsungs was in his arm that day. Wherever he went his foes made way before him, and full many were the Vikings who fell by his magic sword. But the king, who was the father of his wife, was killed in the foremost rank.

Now, when the battle had raged for a long time, suddenly a strange warrior, tall of form, with slouched hat upon his head, and blue-grey cloak about his shoulders, was seen making his way through the press to where Sigmund towered above the host of those who came against him. Soon he confronted Sigmund, and his flashing weapon whirled like a flail ere it descended. The Volsung king lifted his magic sword to ward off the blow, but it fell with terrific force upon the blade and broke it in two pieces. From that moment the fortune of the battle turned against the Volsungs, and they fell fast around their king. But Sigmund stood as in a trance, and the war rage faded from his face. All-Father Odin had come to claim the sword he had given all those many years ago, and had left him defenceless against the foe who now pressed hot upon him.

"And there they smote down Sigmund, the wonder of all lands, On the foemen, on the death-heap his deeds had piled that day."

When he saw that his rival had fallen, King Lygni made for the king's abode, meaning to take both queen and treasure for himself. But he found all empty and silent within. Then, thinking that he had slain every one of the Volsung race, and that he need dread them no more, he went through the kingdom to take possession of it.

When night had fallen upon the scene of bloodshed, Hiordis crept out of the thicket and searched among the dead for her beloved Sigmund. Presently she found him lying, and the life was still in him; and taking him in her arms she thought to staunch his wounds. But with faint voice he said: "War have I waged as long as it was Odin's will, but never will I draw sword again, since the blade he gave me has broken in two. My good fortune has departed, and I will not suffer myself to be healed."

Then Hiordis wept sore and answered: "Naught would I care if but one Volsung was left to avenge thee and my father."

And Sigmund said: "A son shall be born to thee who shall be mightier than I. Our boy shall be the noblest and most famed of all the Volsung race. See to it that thou keep the pieces of my good sword, for from it he shall fashion a goodly blade, and shall work many a great work therewith, and his name shall abide and flourish as long as the world shall endure.

"But now am I weary, and would fain go to join my kindred that have gone before me."

All through the night Hiordis kept watch beside him, till, at the dawn, he died.

And as the queen mourned over the lifeless body she heard the sound of many ships upon the seashore, and she said to her handmaid: "Let us now exchange garments and flee into the woods, and do thou play the part of king's daughter, and I will be thy handmaid."

Then there came up a great band of Vikings from the shore, and their leader was Alf, son of the King of Denmark. And they saw how a great company of men lay slain, and also how two women had escaped into the woods.

So Alf bade his followers go seek the maidens, and bring them before him. This they did, and when he questioned them, the handmaid spoke as though she were queen, and answered for both, and told of the fall of King Sigmund, and who it was who had brought the war trouble into the land.

Then the prince asked if they knew where the wealth of the king was hidden, and the maiden replied: "Ay, we know full well where it is laid."

And she guided them to the place, and this pleased the prince, and he put the treasure aboard his ships, and took the women also with him. But first he gave ear to the tale of Sigmund, and it won his admiration, and he caused the king to be buried as beseemed his rank and valour.

Then did Hiordis and the handmaid sail away with Alf to his own land.



CHAPTER XVII

The Story of the Magic Gold

This is the tale the Northmen tell of how Sigurd was nurtured in Denmark.

When Hiordis and her handmaid came to the kingdom of Prince Alf, they were treated with all honour and goodwill. But soon the queen-mother of Prince Alf called him to her and said:

"Tell me, my son, why the fairer of these women has the fewer rings and the commoner garments? For methinks that she whom you have held of least account is the nobler of the two."

And he answered: "I, too, have had my doubts, since she is little like a bond-servant, and when we first met she greeted me in noble wise. But let us make trial of the matter."

So it came to pass that, as they sat at table, the prince said: "How is it that you know the hour for rising in the winter mornings, seeing that there are then no lights in heaven?"

And the handmaid, who was playing the part of mistress, forgot herself, and answered: "At a certain hour I was ever wont to drink milk before wending to feed the cows; and now that I no longer do this, I still awake thereby at that self-same time."

At this the prince laughed aloud, saying: "That is ill manners for a king's daughter."

Then he turned to Hiordis and asked her the same question, and she answered unthinkingly: "My father once gave me a little gold ring of such a nature that it grows cold on my finger in the day-dawning; and that is the sign by which I know it is time to rise."

Then the prince sprang up, saying: "Gold rings for a bond-maid! Come now, thou has deceived me, for I perceive that thou art a king's daughter."

So the queen told him the whole truth, and then was she held in the greatest honour.

Soon after, Prince Alf succeeded to his father's throne and became King of Denmark, and about this time a fair son was given to Hiordis, as had been foretold by Sigmund, his father. His hair was fair as the morning light and his eyes were keen and blue.

And when, as happened shortly afterwards, the king married Hiordis, the young Sigurd, as he was named, was brought up at the palace, with all care and love, as the king's foster-son. Tall and straight did he grow, and very comely of countenance; and there was no man but loved him.

In due time the young prince was sent to Regin, the wisest man in that realm, to be taught by him.

So old was he that none could recall his first coming to the land, and his wisdom embraced all things known to men. He had great skill in all the arts of peace, but chiefly was he famed for the mighty works he had wrought at the forge and upon the anvil.

"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."

But though he was so wise, he had an evil heart, and he soon determined to use the young Sigurd for his own ends.

So one day he began to instil a spirit of discontent within the lad, asking him if he knew how much wealth his father Sigmund had and who now had it in charge.

And the boy answered: "The king himself has it in charge."

"Dost thou then trust him so utterly?" sneered Regin.

"It is but right he should have it so," answered Sigurd, "for he knows better how to guard it than I."

So Regin waited awhile, and then tried again, saying: "Surely it is a marvellous thing that thou, a king's son, should run about on thy feet like a horse-boy, and do the bidding of King Alf!"

"That is not so," said Sigurd, "for I have my way in all things, and whatever I desire is granted to me."

"Well, then," said Regin, "ask for a horse for thyself."

"Yes," said the boy; "and that shall I have when I have need of such a thing."

After this Sigurd went to the king, who smiled on him and said: "What wilt thou of me?"

And Sigurd said: "I would have a horse of my very own."

To which the king replied: "Choose for thyself a horse from any part of the kingdom it seems good to thee."

So Sigurd went away to the wild woods to consider where he should search for the finest steed in all the world; and as he pondered he met in the way a tall, old man, with a grey hat drawn over his forehead and a grey-blue cloak about his shoulders, who asked him where he was going.

"I want to choose a horse," said Sigurd. "Come thou with me, old man, and give me thy counsel."

So they went together to a meadow where all the finest horses in the king's dominions were feeding, in charge of the royal grooms. And the stranger said: "See now, let us drive all these horses into the deeps of the river and choose the one that best can cross the foaming tide."

And this they did. And it came to pass that, because of the strong swirl of the waters, all but one of the horses turned back and scrambled again to land.

But one not only breasted the tide as though it were still water, but, having gained the opposite bank, he raced round the meadow as though he were a colt. Then plunging into the river again he swam back quite easily and rejoined his companions.

"That is the horse that I will choose," said young Sigurd, and running out, he caught the beautiful creature by the mane. Young of years was he, grey of colour, and very great and fair of limb; and as yet no man had thrown foot across his back.

Then said the old man: "This horse is of the kin of Sleipnir, the steed of Odin. Nourish him well, for he will prove the best of horses to thee."

And with those words he vanished.

Then Sigurd called the steed Greyfell, and he proved, as Odin had promised, the best of all horses in the world.

And after awhile Regin spoke again to Sigurd and said: "It grieves me sore to see thee in this poor and humble guise at the court. But thou art a brave lad, and I will tell thee where there is much wealth to be won, as well as fame and honour in the winning of it, if thou wilt."

These words roused Sigurd's curiosity, and he asked where that wealth might be, and who had watch and ward over it.

And Regin answered: "Fafnir is his name, and he lies not so far away, on a lonely waste of heath. And when thou comest to that place, thou mayest well say that thou hast never seen or heard of such abundance of treasure."

"But I have already heard of Fafnir," said Sigurd thoughtfully. "Is he not the most terrible of dragons, so huge and evil that no man dare go out against him?"

"Not so," said the cunning Regin, "he is like unto other dragons of his kind. Men make too great a tale about him, that is all. But there, thy forefathers would have thought nothing of such a beast, but 'tis hardly to be expected that thou, though thou be of Volsung blood, shall have the heart and mind of those great ones whose deeds of fame still ring throughout the lands."

Then Sigurd grew angry. "Why shouldst thou lay on me the name of coward, who am yet but a child?" he said. "I have had as yet no chance to win renown. And tell me, why dost thou egg me on to this so strongly?"

"Hundreds of years ago," replied Regin, "when I was but a boy, I lived in the house of my father Hreidmar, the king of the dwarfs. His eldest son was named Fafnir, his second Otter, and I was the youngest and least; for I could never wield a sword in battle, though I was a cunning worker in iron and silver and gold. My brother Otter was cleverer than I, for he was a great fisher, and excelled all other men as such.

"By day he took the form of an otter, and dwelt in the river, and brought fish in his mouth to the bank. He lived usually thus, coming home only to eat and slumber, for on dry land he could see nothing. But Fafnir was by far more grim, as he was greater than us all, and he would have everything we possessed called his.

"Now in the waterfall hard by our house lived a dwarf called Andvari, who had changed himself into the likeness of a pike; and this he did that he might eat the smaller fishes, of which the river was full.

"And one day it came to pass that three of the Asa folk, Odin, Loki, and Hoenir, being on a journey, came to Andvari's waterfall just as Otter, having eaten a large salmon, was slumbering on the river bank. When Loki saw him he took up a stone, and threw it with such force that my brother fell dead on the ground. At this the Asas were well content, for they did not know that he was a dwarf's son. And they flayed off his skin and Loki carried it away with him, hanging it over his shoulder.

"Now at eventide they came to the house of my father, and entered in, suspecting no evil. But when Loki, coming last, threw his burden on the floor, the dwarf king recognised the skin, and his face grew black with rage. Before the Asas could defend themselves or flee, he made signs to his servants who bound them fast in the midst of the floor.

"Then the Asas asked what ransom they should pay, and Hreidmar answered and said: 'In the depth of the waterfall lies the Flame of the Waters, the Gold of the Sea, hidden there by the dwarfs, and called by men Andvari's Hoard. Find this for me, and fill with it the otter skin, and cover it outside with the same red gold, and then, and then only, will I let you go free.'

"Now this was a heavy ransom indeed, for not only was Andvari's hoard hidden cunningly away, but the otter skin had the property of stretching itself to an enormous size.

"The Asas, however, determined to do their best, and they sent Loki, who was set free for the purpose, to find the Magic Gold.

"So Loki went down to the river bank and peered and poked and searched. This he did for days, but nowhere could he discover either the dwarf Andvari or his hoard. At length he noticed a wonderfully fine pike, with gills of gold, which each day sported in the foam of the waterfall, and he suspected that this was the dwarf in the form of a fish.

"So he went to Ran, the goddess of the sea, and borrowed her magic net, and taking this to the waterfall he cast it therein; and the pike swam into the net and was caught. Then said Loki:

"What fish of all fishes Swims strong in the flood, But hath learnt little wit to unfold? Thine head must thou buy If fate thou would'st fly, And find me the water's red gold."

"The dwarf now resumed his proper form, and answered sulkily:

"Andvari folk call me, A dwarf is my father, And deep in the fall is my home. For of ill-luck a fay This fate on me lay, Through wet ways ever to roam."

"Slowly, and very reluctantly, the dwarf accepted the situation; but at last he consented to yield up the golden hoard as ransom for his life, and diving into the depths of the waterfall he brought up thence, little by little, his marvellous pile of treasure.

"Last of all he laid upon the bank, which now shone like a sea of gold, the glittering Helmet of Dread and a massive breastplate, all of the precious metal.

"'This is the full measure,' said he, as he laid his burden at Loki's feet.

"But Loki caught sight of a ring gleaming upon his thumb. 'Give me also that ring,' said he.

"Now this ring was a talisman and had the power of attracting to it all precious metal like itself; therefore Andvari would not part with it.

"Then Loki snatched the ring from him with a wicked laugh, and went his way chuckling. But Andvari crept into a cleft of the rocks, and from thence called out angry curses upon him.

"That gold hoard of mine Shall be to all thine A cause of dissension and woe; And no good at all Shall ever befall The man to whose hands it shall go."

"Meanwhile, Loki had carried the treasure to Hreidmar, and they placed it on the otter skin, which ever stretched and widened, so that, with all that large store, one hair of the bristle remained uncovered. And on this Loki placed the magic ring, that was called 'Andvari's Loom,' because it made much gold, and at last the skin was entirely covered. Then Loki chanted:

"Gold enow, gold enow, A great treasure hast thou, That our heads on our necks we may hold, But thou and thy son, Are now both undone, For a curse has been placed on the gold."

"Now scarcely had the Asas departed than the curse began to work. For though Hreidmar watched night and day over the treasure, it was plain that Fafnir coveted it. At last he slew his father, and having thus obtained possession of the hoard he donned the Helmet of Dread and the glittering breastplate, and," said Regin, "he drove me out when I came to claim my share, and bade me get my bread as best I could.

"And so evil did Fafnir grow with gloating over the treasure, begrudging any man a share in his wealth, that he took the shape of a vile dragon, and to this day he lies brooding over his hoard.

"As for me, I went to the king, who made me master smith."

"Hast thou hearkened, Sigurd? Wilt thou help a man that is old To avenge him for his father? Wilt thou win the treasure of gold And be more than the kings of the earth? Wilt thou rid the earth of a wrong And heal the woe and the sorrow my heart hath endured o'er long?"

Then Sigurd answered: "Much wrong has been thine and exceeding evil has thy kinsman been to thee. Make me, therefore, a sword by thy craft, such as none has ever been made before; and with it I will go forth to slay this mighty dragon."

"Trust me well in that task," said Regin, "and with that same sword shalt thou slay Fafnir."



CHAPTER XVIII

How Sigurd Slew the Dragon

This is the tale the Northmen tell of how Sigurd slew Fafnir and Regin with the Magic Sword.

Regin set to work, and exercising all his skill as a cunning worker in metals he fashioned a sword, very fine and keen and strong, and this he brought to Sigurd.

Sigurd received it with joy, but the weapon which was to slay Fafnir must be severely tested; and, raising it aloft, the youth smote with all his might upon the iron anvil, and the sword broke in pieces.

"Behold thy sword, O Regin!" he laughed.

Then Regin forged another sword and said: "Surely thou wilt be content with this, though thou be hard to please in the matter of a weapon."

But again Sigurd struck upon the anvil, and again the sword fell to pieces. Then he turned wrathfully to Regin: "Art thou also a liar and a traitor like thy father and brother?"

And thus saying he went to his mother, and seating himself at her feet, he began: "Is it true, my mother, that Sigmund, my father, gave thee the Magic Sword of Odin in two pieces?"

"That is true enough," said she.

Then Sigurd entreated: "Give them then to me, I pray thee, for only in such wise shall I get a sword to my mind."

Then the queen knew that he looked to win great fame with that weapon, and she gave him the pieces; and he took them to Regin and bade him make a sword therefrom.

And though Regin's evil heart was wroth because of the words that the youth had spoken, he dared not refuse. So he set to work, and when he carried the finished sword from out the forge, it seemed to his helpers that fire burned along its edges.

"Take thy sword," said the old man, "and if this fails, I have lost my skill in sword-making."

This time when Sigurd smote upon the anvil the keen steel clove into the metal right up to the hilt, and he pulled it out unhurt. Then he went to the river and flung up-stream a tuft of wool, and when the tide carried the wool against the edge of the sword it was cut in two. And then was Sigurd satisfied and his heart rejoiced.

Upon his return Regin met him. "Now that I have made thee this good sword," said he, "wilt thou, for thy part, keep thy word, and go against Fafnir the dragon?"

"Surely will I do that thing," said Sigurd, "but first I must avenge my father."

So he went to the king, and bowing before him said: "Here have I now lived all my lifetime, and thanks and gratitude are owing from me to you, with all due honour. But now will I go hence to meet the sons of Hunding, that they may know that the Volsungs are not all dead; and I would have your goodwill go with me upon the journey."

The king approved of Sigurd's spirit, and said he would give him whatsoever he desired; and therewith a great army was prepared, with ships and weapons, so that he might proceed on his journey in due state and power. And Sigurd himself steered the ship with the dragon's head, which was the finest of the fleet.

At first they ran before a fair wind; but after a few days there arose a great storm, and the sky and sea were red like blood. And as they sailed close along the shore, a certain man hailed them and asked who was captain of that array; and they told him that their chief was Sigurd, son of Sigmund, on his way to win fame for himself.

And the stranger said: "There is none like Sigurd, son of Sigmund, on this earth; so now, I pray thee, take me on board."

So they made for land and took the man aboard. Old he was and one-eyed; and his grey hat was slouched far over his face. And Sigurd saw that he was no ordinary traveller, and asked therefore if he could tell, before ever they reached land, what their fate would be on those stormy waters and in the battle that was to come.

Then said the Traveller: "Thou shalt land safe and sound, and victory shall be thine in the fight if thou shalt see these signs: First, a raven sitting on a tree; next, two warriors coming into the courtyard to meet thee, when the tramp of thy feet is heard; third, a wolf howling under boughs of ash. But see to it, that none of thy warriors look at the moon as she sets, nor trip up their feet as they march out to meet their foe. Let each warrior be well washed, well combed, and well fed—and if all these things come to pass, then have no fear as to who shall win the day."

Even as he spoke the wind abated, and the waves were stilled, and the ships were thenceforth wafted by friendly breezes to the shores of the realm of the sons of Hunding. But the instant they landed the mysterious stranger vanished, and by this Sigurd knew that once again he had been visited by All-Father Odin; and he went on his way rejoicing.

And as he passed up the strand a raven sitting upon a tree croaked at him; a short way farther on a wolf crouched howling under an ash; and as he approached the court of the king, the two sons of Hunding advanced from the courtyard to see what was meant by the tramp of armed men.

Now the news of the coming of the strangers soon spread far and wide over the land, and the people rose with one accord in defence of Lygni their king.

So he advanced upon Sigurd with a vast host, and an exceedingly fierce fight began. Skulls were split, helmets shivered, and shields cut in two, full many times ere that day's work was done. Ever in the front of the fight rode Sigurd, with his good sword flashing, and wheresoever he went his foes fell back before him, for his like had never been seen by any man.

Then came against him the sons of Hunding, and Sigurd smote them down, one after the other, beginning with Lygni the king, until there were none left, and very few of their folk.

Then away sailed Sigurd, flushed with victory, to his mother and his stepfather, by whom he was received with much honour. But when he had been at home a little while, Regin came to him and said: "Perhaps now thou wilt have leisure to keep thy word and humble the crest of Fafnir to the earth, since thou hast avenged thy father and others of the Volsung kin."

And Sigurd answered: "That will I hold to, for I have pledged my word."

So it came to pass that Sigurd and Regin rode together to the heath where Fafnir dwelt; and they passed along the way by which the dragon was wont to creep down to the water to drink. So long was this terrible creature that he would lie crouched on a cliff sixty feet high when he drank of the water below. When Sigurd saw the huge tracks that he had made he said to Regin: "Sayest thou that this dragon is no greater than other such beasts? Methinks he leaves tracks behind him that are strangely well marked."

"There is naught to fear," said Regin. "Make thee a hole and sit down in it, and when the dragon comes to drink, smite him through the heart, and so shalt thou win for thyself great fame."

"But," said Sigurd, "what will happen when the burning blood of the dragon falls upon me?"

Now Regin well knew that no man could endure that frightful stream and live, and he wished to make an end of Sigurd when he had slain the beast. Therefore he answered wrathfully: "Of what use is it to give advice if thou art fearful of everything? Not like thy kin art thou, careless of perils."

With this undeserved taunt he rode away, for he himself was sore afraid, and dared not abide the coming of the dragon.

So Sigurd rode alone over the heath, and when he came to the marks where the tracks lay deep he began to dig a pit, as Regin had told him. But while he was busy at work an old man, wearing a big grey hat over his face, passed by and asked what he was doing. And when he had been told, he said:

"That was no wise advice that was given thee. Rather dig trenches in the midst of the dragon track, that the blood may run therein; and do thou then crouch in one of these and run thy sword through his heart as he drags his huge shape overhead."

And with these words he vanished.

Sigurd could not doubt the wisdom of this advice and he did as he had been bidden; and when he heard the dragon approaching he hid himself, his sword ready in his hand.

The roar of the dragon shook the earth for miles around, and Sigurd saw streams of venom issuing from his jaws as he drew near. But this did not affright him; he waited until the huge shape loomed overhead, and then thrust his sword, with all the strength he could command, as far as it would go into the loathsome breast.

Then followed a scene of violence beyond the power of words to express. A great roar, which shook the very heavens, went up from the cavernous throat, and well it was for Sigurd that he darted aside with the quickness of light. The huge coils unwound and contracted again in the monster's agony, and the furious lashing of his enormous tail utterly destroyed the surrounding vegetation, while his cruel talons, all powerless now to do aught else, ploughed deep furrows in the hard and rocky soil. All nature seemed to be undergoing its final convulsions in the few moments which elapsed ere the monster at length lay limp and gasping in the last throes of death.

Then, with the voice of Fafnir the dwarf, he asked in feeble accents: "Who art thou, and what is thy kin, that thou wast bold to lift weapon against me?"

And his foe made answer: "Sigurd am I called, of Volsung kin."

Then Fafnir asked: "Who urged thee to this deed, O bright-eyed boy?"

And Sigurd replied: "A bold heart urged me, and a strong hand and sharp sword aided me in the doing thereof."

But Fafnir's eyes were opened at the approach of death, and he said: "Regin, my brother, has brought about my end, and even now he is plotting to bring about thine also. Full soon shall the red gold of Andvari's hoard begin to work thy destruction. I give thee counsel, therefore, that thou ridest swiftly away without the gold; for often it happens that he who gets a death wound is none the less avenged."

But Sigurd answered: "I will not follow thy counsel, but even now will I rise to thy lair and take that great treasure which thou hast hoarded there."

And Fafnir answered: "Have thine own will. Yet shalt that gold be a curse to thee, and a curse to whosoever possesses it hereafter."

With this warning the loathsome creature breathed his last, and at the same moment the sun broke through the clouds, casting a glamour over the heath which only so lately had been the haunt of evil and a place of desolation.

Now, when it was plain that nothing more was to be feared from the dragon, came Regin from the place of safety where he lurked. And since he feared lest Sigurd should claim the treasure as his reward for slaying Fafnir, he began to accuse him of having murdered his kinsman, and to remind him that, according to the law of the Northmen, he could now require Sigurd's own life.

But Sigurd said: "I did but kill him at thy wish, O Regin, and with the good sword that thou thyself did make for me."

"Ah yes," said the traitor warily, "it was my good sword and not thy arm that has done the deed, and therefore no thanks are due to thee. But now will I count thee guiltless of my brother's blood if thou wilt cut out the heart of the dragon and give me to eat of it."

This Sigurd promised to do, and he made a fire and set about roasting the heart of the monster upon a rod. But presently, as he felt the heart to see if it were cooked enough, he burnt his fingers so severely that at once he set them in his mouth to soothe the smart. And the moment the heart-blood of Fafnir touched his tongue his ears were open to the voices of the birds, and he understood the meaning of their songs in the bushes hard by.

And this was what the woodpeckers sang, chuckling all the time: "There thou sittest, Sigurd, roasting the heart of Fafnir for another, whereas if thou ate it thyself thou wouldst become wisest of men."

And the swallows twittered: "See where lies Regin, who is in mind to kill the man who trusts in him."

And the raven croaked: "Let Sigurd then cut off his head and so have all the gold-hoard for his own."

And the eagle screamed: "Why did he not ride away with that hoard at once? Then might he have found the hill where Brunhild lies."

And the owl hooted: "Ay, let him now take his chance and slay the man who will surely kill him if he lets him live."

Then Sigurd arose, and he scrupled not to slay Regin; for he knew that he was about to betray him unto his death.

Then once more the birds began to sing. And this time they sang with glee of a warrior-maiden sleeping fast on a high mountain in the midst of a ring of glittering flames; and through this fiery ring only the bravest of heroes might pass and awake her from sleep.

"On a mountain fell A warrior-maid fast sleeps Where a ring of flame Perfect safety keeps. None may take her hence Save a hero bold, For only at a hero's touch Will those fires burn cold."

Then was Sigurd fired with desire to find that fair maiden. So, after partaking of the dragon's heart, he leapt on his horse and rode along in the monster's tracks till he reached the place where, deep down in the earth, the gold lay hoarded. And there he found the store of treasure, which he placed in two great chests upon the back of his good horse, meaning to walk along-side. But the horse would not stir a foot until Sigurd, guessing what was in his mind, leapt upon his back; whereat Greyfell galloped away at once as though he were carrying no weight at all.



CHAPTER XIX

How Sigurd Won the Hand of Brunhild

This is the tale the Northmen tell of how Sigurd braved the flames, and what befell.

On and on, over level plain, by wild marshes, through winding ways, galloped Greyfell, until at last he brought Sigurd to the foot of a mountain that is called Hindfell. And before him, on the crest of that height, he saw a great light as of a fire burning, so that the flames seemed to touch the sky.

Riding up the slope Sigurd found himself at length face to face with a ring of lurid fire, crackling and roaring with a noise like thunder. But without a moment's hesitation he plunged into the very midst of this.

Naught did he care for peril who had come to seek such prize, and, as if daunted by the courage of the Volsung, the fierce flames shrank back as he advanced, leaving ever a magic circle in which he rode unscathed, while all around they roared like some hungry lion robbed of its prey. They rose wave upon wave to the very sky, but their fierce glare shone with glory upon Sigurd, and his form was as that of the Sun-god when he rises from the ever-lasting hills at the dawn of day.

And suddenly, as though their work was done, the flames flickered and fell, leaving only a broad ring of pale ashes behind the hero as he rode on to where loomed the massive shape of a great castle hung with shields.

The doors of this castle stood wide open, and not a warrior was to be seen; so, dismounting, Sigurd entered the great hall, and at first saw no one—neither man, woman, nor child. But presently he came to a room where he saw a figure, clad all in armour, lying stretched upon a couch. Approaching thither, Sigurd removed the helmet, and saw, to his astonishment, the face of a beautiful maiden fast asleep. He called to her and tried to awaken her, but in vain. Then he cut off the breastplate, which was fastened so closely that it seemed as though it had grown into her flesh, and then the sleeves and the long steel boots; and at length she lay before him in her garments of fine white linen, over which fell long, thick tresses of golden hair. Sigurd bent over her in admiration, and at that moment she opened her beautiful eyes and gazed in wonder at his face. Then she arose, and looked with joy at the rising sun, but her gaze returned to Sigurd; and the two loved each other at first sight.

When they had communed tenderly together, Sigurd told who he was and whence he came; and Brunhild rejoiced to hear the tale. "For," said she, "none but a hero might pass through that ring of fire."

Then said Sigurd: "Tell me now, fair Brunhild, how thou camest to this lonely fire-girt castle."

And she told him this tale:

"A warrior-maiden am I—chief of those Valkyrs who carry off the valiant dead to the halls of Valhalla and ply them with mead at the banquet. But many years ago I gave dire offence to All-Father Odin, as thou shalt hear.

"Two kings had a quarrel, and determined to put their feud to the issue of the sword. One was named Helm Gunnar. He was an old man and a mighty warrior, and to him had Odin promised the victory.

"But for the other, young Agnar, my heart was filled with pity; and so I disregarded the command of Odin and struck down Helm Gunnar in the fight, the victory thus going to Agnar.

"Then did All-Father Odin, in his wrath, decree that I should be cast out from Valhalla and be banished to the earth, there to find a husband like any other maiden of Midgard. But I was sore afraid, for I feared to mate with a coward—I, who had been a warrior-maiden from my birth. And All-Father Odin was pitiful, and placed me in this castle on Hindfell, and surrounded me with a barrier of flames, through which none but a hero would dare to pass. But first he pierced me with the Thorn of Sleep, that I might not grow old in the years of waiting—that I should awake, as thou seest me, just as I was when I began to sleep, at the touch of a brave man."

Then Sigurd told her all his story, and when she knew that he was bound on adventurous quests she would not let him stay long by her side, but bade him go forth and win honour for himself and afterwards return to her again. Meantime she promised to await his return in the castle, protected by the ring of flames, which should be rekindled on his departure. "For none but Sigurd," said she, "will be brave enough to make his way through such flames as these, and so shall I be safe until thy return."

So Sigurd made ready to depart; but first he took Andvari's golden ring, and placing it upon Brunhild's finger, as they stood together on the mountain crest, he vowed to love none but her as long as his life should last.



CHAPTER XX

How the Curse of the Gold is Fulfilled

This is the tale the Northmen tell of how Sigurd was foully slain in the land of the Niblungs.

Now when Sigurd had ridden far upon his way, he came to the land of the Niblungs, a place of eternal mists, ruled over by Giuki and his wife Grimhild. Three fine sons had they and one daughter, Gudrun, the fairest maiden upon earth.

But Grimhild was a witch-wife—a fierce-hearted woman, learned in magic and filled with crafty wile.

When they saw Sigurd riding into the courtyard with his glittering armour and his burden of treasure, the king and queen said to one another: "Surely one of the Asas has come hither; for the array of this stranger shines with the gold-gleam, and his horse is mightier than other horses, and the man himself excels in bearing all that we have ever seen."

So the king went out with his court to greet Sigurd, and asked: "Who art thou, who ridest into my kingdom without the leave of my sons, as none have dared to do before?"

And he answered: "Sigurd am I, the son of Sigmund."

And the king said: "Be thou welcome here then, and take from our hands whatsoever thou wilt have."

So for a time Sigurd lived in great honour at the court of the Niblungs, from whence he fared forth upon many adventures with the princes of that land, and ever was he foremost of them all.

During this time Brunhild was always in his memory, and he talked so often of her that at length the evil heart of Grimhild, the queen, was roused to jealousy. She bethought herself that, could he but be made to forget the maiden of the Flaming Castle, he might marry Gudrun, her daughter; and so all the wealth of Andvari's hoard might remain in the court of the Niblungs for ever. On a day, therefore, she mixed a magic potion, and gave it to Sigurd, saying:

"We have great joy in thy visit here, and would give thee the best that we enjoy. Now take this horn, and drink therefrom."

So he drank with gladness; and from that moment all remembrance of Brunhild was blotted from his mind, as though she had never been. And, as the queen had hoped, he began to look with eyes of affection upon Gudrun, the fair maiden whom he saw every day, so that the Niblung princes, who had grown to love and honour Sigurd more and more, came to him and said: "Great good thou hast brought us, Sigurd, and exceeding strength thou givest to our realm. We pray thee therefore to abide with us for ever, and thou shalt have rule in our land, and we will give thee our sister in marriage, whom another man would not get for all his prayers." Then the heart of the Volsung responded, and they swore brotherhood together, even as if they were children of one father and mother; and in due time Gudrun was married to Sigurd with all joy and festivity.

Yet, in the midst of all this glee, a strange feeling oppressed the heart of Sigurd. Some old memory seemed to be striving within him, but, try as he would, he could not give it definite shape.

Time passed and King Giuki died, Gunnar, his son, succeeding him. And as he had no wife, his mother, Grimhild, said: "Fair is thy life and fortune, O my son, but one thing thou lackest. Go, seek for thyself a wife who shall be a joy to thy house."

"But where can I find one who will be a worthy queen of the Niblungs?" asked Gunnar.

And his mother answered: "Fair among the daughters of the earth and bravest of warrior-maidens is Brunhild. In her Castle of Flames she awaits the bridegroom who shall dare to penetrate the barrier of fire. Go then, seek her out, and Sigurd will ride with thee."

So Gunnar and Sigurd arrayed themselves joyously and rode away, till on the crest of a high mountain they saw a castle with a golden roof and all about it a ring of flaming fire.

Then right eagerly they pricked their steeds, but all too long it seemed ere they gained the summit. At length they reached the fiery wall, and Gunnar put his tired horse at it without pause. But the horse trembled and stood stock still. Again and again he tried him, but always with the same result, until, at length, Gunnar cried to Sigurd: "Lend me thy steed, Sigurd, for mine will not brave this fire."

"With all my heart," replied Sigurd, leaping off Greyfell. But when Gunnar had mounted the horse, Greyfell would not stir, and he too trembled before the flames.

Then Gunnar sprang to earth, and stamped with impatience, for he thought it shame to go afoot into the presence of the maid. Presently he remembered that his witch-mother had given him a magic potion which would enable a man to take the face and form of another at will. So he proposed that Sigurd should take his appearance and win Brunhild for him by proxy, for he knew that Greyfell would dare anything with his beloved master astride his back.

Remembering naught, Sigurd eagerly accepted the mission, and when he had drunk of the potion prepared by Gunnar he leaped again upon the back of Greyfell, who sprang at once into the heart of the fire.

Then the flames roared with a thunderous sound, and shot up high into the sky; but next moment they died away into a heap of grey ashes, and Sigurd, unharmed, entered the hall where Brunhild sat and waited for her faithless lover.

As he entered she started up with a cry of joy, which quickly died away when, in place of Sigurd's fair hair and bright blue eyes, she saw the dark locks and flashing black eyes of Gunnar.

"What man art thou?" she asked.

"Gunnar am I called," said Sigurd, "and through the flames have I ridden to woo thee for my bride."

But she looked sadly at the floor and said: "Methought none but Sigurd the Volsung could have dared those awful flames."

Then Sigurd thought to entice the maiden. "Much gold shall be thine," said he, "if thou wilt marry Gunnar the Niblung."

But she said: "Talk not to me of gold. All-Father Odin promised me a hero-husband, and I, a warrior-maiden, will marry no silken knight for gold."

Now Brunhild had bound herself by a solemn pledge to marry him who should ride through the fire, so in the end she was obliged to submit to her wooer's will; wherefore she took off the ring from Andvari's hoard that Sigurd had placed upon her finger, and gave it to him, with her promise to appear at the court of the Niblungs in ten days' time. Sigurd gave her another ring in exchange, and then rejoined Gunnar, with whom he rode back home, after having taken back his own form and likeness.

And only to Gudrun, his wife, did Sigurd reveal the secret of how Brunhild had been won for her brother Gunnar, and to her he gave the ring from Andvari's hoard which she had returned to him.

Now, when ten days had passed by, Brunhild came to the land of the Niblungs, and was met in solemn state by Gunnar at the door of his palace. Then was held high festival at the marriage celebration, after which Gunnar led his bride into the great hall where Sigurd and Gudrun sat side by side upon the high dais. When Brunhild saw her old lover she trembled violently and her face went ashy pale, then her beautiful eyes met Sigurd's with a look of such intense sadness and meaning that the spell was dissolved, and the remembrance of the love he had given her rushed suddenly back into his mind, well-nigh overwhelming him with grief.

Yet was he bound to Gudrun, as Brunhild was to Gunnar, so no more passed at that time.

Now one day, when the birds sang pleasantly and all nature rejoiced in the warmth of the summer sun, the two princesses, Gudrun and Brunhild, went down to the river to bathe; and Gudrun waded the farther into the water, saying scornfully that thus it became the wife to do whose husband was the bravest in the world.

Then the bitter feelings which for long had vexed the soul of Brunhild would not be restrained, and they poured forth in a torrent of wrath like some mighty waters when the dam gives way before its constant force.

Gudrun retorted upon her by telling how that it was Sigurd, not Gunnar, who had braved the fiery flames, and in proof of this she showed in triumph the ring from Andvari's hoard which she wore upon her finger.

Now when she heard this, Brunhild was beside herself with rage that she should have been thus tricked, and she went to her husband and said: "Never again shalt thou see me glad in thy hall, nor hear me speak words of peace and gladness within thy borders, for thou hast deceived me, and art no hero as I thought."

And for many days after that Brunhild neither ate nor drank, but set wide the doors of her bower and lamented, so that all folk heard and marvelled.

In vain they tried to comfort her; she would not hear even the soothing words of Sigurd, whom Gudrun had sent to her, saying scornfully, however, as he went: "Give her red gold, forsooth, and smother up her grief and anger therewith."

At length Brunhild sent for her husband, and bade him put Sigurd to death, saying that she had vowed to marry the man who should come to her through the fire, and, since this was now impossible, Sigurd must surely die, that she might be released from her oath.

And at that Gunnar was sorely troubled, for he loved Sigurd very dearly. But he said to himself: "Brunhild is better to me than all things else, and the fairest of all women, and I will lay down my life rather than lose her love."

So he sent for his brother and told him that he had made up his mind to kill Sigurd. And Hoegni, his brother, was very loth, and declared that such an act of treachery would bring great shame upon the land. But Gunnar reminded him of the gold-hoard, and of how all would be theirs if Sigurd were out of the way. And at length they determined to incite their younger brother, Guttorm, to do the deed.

But Guttorm, in his turn, was unwilling until they mixed for him a magic drink, which made him fierce and wild and eager for bloodshed, so that he was ready for whatever might befall.

At midnight, therefore, Guttorm crept, sword in hand, to Sigurd's chamber; but, as he bent over his pillow, he saw the bright blue eyes of the young hero fixed steadily upon him; and he fled, for so keen and eager were the eyes of Sigurd that few might look upon him. A second time he went in, and again the same thing happened.

But the third time Sigurd lay asleep; then Guttorm took his sword and drove it through his breast.

Wounded to death, the young man had just strength to raise himself, seize his good sword and hurl it after Guttorm as he fled, and the magic weapon cut him in two ere he reached the door. Then Sigurd fell back into the arms of Gudrun and died.

Then did great grief fall upon the land of the Niblungs; and a mighty funeral pyre was built for Sigurd, and his body was laid thereon.

Gudrun, his wife, sat silent and apart, her heart breaking for her hero-husband; but Brunhild, when she saw what she had done, was filled with grief and despair beyond endurance, and snatching a dagger from her handmaidens, she stabbed herself and so died.

In such wise had the doom of the Magic Gold descended upon Regin and Fafnir, and upon Sigurd and Brunhild. Nor was this the end of the misery it was to work.

Loathing the thought of life in her brother's palace, Gudrun now fled to the court of Alf, the foster-father of Sigurd, where for some years she remained, busying herself in working a vast piece of tapestry on which she embroidered the heroic deeds of Sigurd.

But after a time Atli, King of the Huns, the brother of Brunhild, sent to Gunnar to demand that compensation should be made to him for his sister's death; and to him Gunnar promised that, in satisfaction for this, he should receive the hand of his sister Gudrun in marriage. So the Niblung princes sent and fetched her from the court of Alf, and forced her to marry Atli, much against her will.

Now at Atli's court her talk was ever of Sigurd and of the wondrous gold-hoard he had brought to the Niblungs' land. And so it came to pass that the greed of Atli was kindled when he heard of that treasure, and he determined to make it his own.

So he sent a messenger to invite all the Niblung princes to visit his court, intending, when he had them in his power, to put an end to them. Now Gudrun guessed what was in Atli's mind, and therefore she took off the gold ring from Andvari's hoard, and twined about it a wolf's hair as a sign of warning; and this she sent by the same messenger to her brothers.

But this messenger untwined the wolf's hair and gave only the ring to Gunnar, who took it as a signal of good faith and gladly accepted the invitation.

Hoegni alone was unwilling to accept the invitation, but when he found that Gunnar would pay no heed to him, he prepared to go along with him.

First, however, he persuaded his brother to take that great treasure-hoard and to cast it into a deep hole at the bottom of a mighty river, where none might find it save themselves.

So Gunnar agreed, and Hoegni took the gold, and, standing on a great rock in the midst of the river, he flung it, with a huge splash, into the water.

"Down then and whirling outward the ruddy gold fell forth, As a flame in the dim grey morning flashed out a kingdom's worth; Then the waters roared above it, the wan water and the foam Flew up o'er the face of the rock-wall as the tinkling gold fell home, Unheard, unseen, forever, a wonder and a tale, Till the last of earthly singers from the sons of men shall fail."

Not yet, however, had the curse of that gold-hoard been entirely fulfilled. For when the brave Niblungs reached the hall of Atli, they found no welcome awaiting them, but sharp swords and hostile looks. Fiercely they fought, but to no avail, and at length all were slain save only Gunnar and Hoegni.

Then Atli had each brought before him in turn, fast bound as they were, and promised to give freedom to him who would first reveal to him the hiding-place of the gold-hoard. But they laughed in contempt, even when they were put to the torture in his presence.

Then Hoegni, being weary of his life in chains, made an agreement with Gunnar, so that when next King Atli asked the latter to tell him the secret, he replied that he had made an oath not to reveal the hiding-place while Hoegni lived, but that when he saw his brother was dead, he would do all that Atli bade him. So they killed Hoegni, and the Battle Maidens carried him away to the joys of Valhalla. But when they showed proofs of his death to his brother, and bade him tell the whereabouts of the hoard, Gunnar laughed a proud laugh and declared that now the secret rested with him alone, and it should never be revealed.

So, in his fury of disappointment, the king ordered him to be thrown, with chained hands, into a den full of poisonous serpents; and his harp was flung in after him. Then did Gunnar sit smiling in their midst, and played with his toes upon the instrument until all the creatures, save one, were fast asleep.

But this one serpent, whom men say was the witch-mother of Atli in disguise, bit Gunnar in the side, and thus died the last of the Niblungs.

Of that race Gudrun still remained, and she now planned a thing which should avenge the blood of her kinsmen and end her own unhappy life.

So she took the sword of Sigurd, which Gunnar had given into her hands, and slew Atli and placed him dead upon a ship. And when she had cast it adrift, she flung herself into the sea; and so died.

Thus did Andvari's hoard fulfil the curse that had been set upon all those who should be concerned with it. But the glittering treasure itself lies hidden far beneath the waves of the mighty river Rhine, and only the water-sprites know where it is hid.



CHAPTER XXI

The Boyhood of Frithiof the Bold

This is the tale the Northmen tell of how Frithiof the Bold asked for the hand of Ingeborg the Fair.

Once upon a time there lived in Norway a king named Bele, who had three children. Helge and Halfdan were his sons, and his daughter was called by the name of Ingeborg.

Now Ingeborg was the fairest of maidens, and had moreover such a fine wit and understanding that all men said she was the first and best of the good king's children.

To the west of the settlement in which King Bele lived rose up a great white temple, hedged around with a lofty wall of wood. This temple was sacred to Balder the Beautiful; and so much did men honour him in those days of old, that they made strict laws that within the enclosure in which his temple stood no man should hold converse with a woman, nor should any harm be done to man or beast.

On the other side of the inlet on which stood the abode of Bele was a village ruled by a mighty man of valour named Thorsten. This Thorsten had a son called Frithiof, who at the time of his birth was bigger and stronger than all other babes, and grew up not only tall but also bold and brave of heart; so that men named him Frithiof the Bold.

Now Thorsten was a sea-rover. So he sent his little son to a sturdy yeoman called Hilding, that he might be brought up by him and taught all that a Viking ought to know. For the education of a Viking was no small thing. He might not claim the title till he had lifted the mighty stone that stood before the door of the king and had borne it across the pathway. And he had to learn what was meant by the "triple oath"—that he would not capture woman or child in battle, nor seek refuge in a tempest, nor wait to bind up his wounds before the fight was spent.

Now it so happened that, while the children of the king were still young, their mother died, and the little princess was also placed in the care of Hilding and his wife. Thus Frithiof and Ingeborg grew up together, and were more beautiful and brave and clever than all the other boys and girls of that place.

Thorsten, Frithiof's father, was the king's right hand, and now that Bele was grown old and feeble he managed most of the affairs of the kingdom. And Frithiof too was useful to the king, more so, indeed, than were his own two sons.

Thorsten had a famous swift ship, called Ellida, which was rowed by fifteen men on each side, and each oar required the strength of two men to pull it; but Frithiof was so strong that he would row two oars at once.

The king's two sons, Helge and Halfden, differed much from each other in their appearance and characters, but they were alike in their jealous dispositions. In particular they grudged Frithiof his growing renown, and hated him in their hearts for his great strength, which far exceeded theirs.

At length King Bele fell very sick, and, knowing that he was about to die, he sent for Thorsten and their three sons and said:

"I know that this sickness will be to my death, and I have called you, my children, to hear the last counsel of your father.

"My sons, govern the realm in peace, and let force stand sentinel at the borders. The king is helpless who hath not the confidence and affection of his people, and the throne is insecure if it rest not on a foundation of just and equal laws.

"Choose not the forward for your counsellors, but confide, rather, in the wisdom and valour of one tried friend. Thorsten and I have faithfully kept friendship's troth in steadfast union, so do ye, in weal or woe, wend together with Frithiof. If ye three will hold together as one man, your match shall not be seen through all our Northland.

"Let my last words be for my beloved Ingeborg. She hath grown lovely in peace as the rose. Helge, be thou her guardian, and let no storm-wind scatter those fair petals."

Then Thorsten, in his turn, addressed Frithiof:

"My son, I too must shortly wend to Valhalla, and I rejoice to think that Odin has bestowed upon thee much strength and courage of heart. It is good, but remember that strength without wit is soon brought to naught, even as the bear, who wields in his paw the strength of twelve men, is laid low by a thrust from the sword of one. Beware of arrogance, which goes before a fall, and bend before the will of the king's sons. Above all, will noble deeds and do thou every right."

After this the old men gave directions for their burial, and they charged their sons to lay them beneath two barrows or mounds, one on each side of the narrow firth, whose murmurs would ever be sweet music as they slept, and across whose waves their spirits would hold converse as of yore.

After the death of Thorsten, Frithiof took his land and ruled in his stead, with the aid of his two foster-brothers, Bjoern and Osmund. And he was now the owner of Ellida, the good ship which understood every word that was spoken to her, as though she were alive; and of two other heirlooms of priceless value. The first was a sword, Angurvadel it was named, which tradition said had been forged in Eastern lands by the dwarfs. Its hilt was of hammered gold, and the blade was covered with magic runes, which in peace were dull, but which flamed blood-red when the sword was brandished in war. The other was a marvellous arm-ring, carved with all the wonders of the heavens.

It had always been the custom of the House of Thorsten to invite the household of the king each year to a banquet, and so, soon after he had succeeded to his father's place, Frithiof gave a feast more magnificent than any that had been given hitherto. For he knew that, with her two brothers, would come also Ingeborg the Fair, whom he loved with his whole heart. And while the two young kings sat at the board with hostile looks and downcast faces, this sweet princess laughed among her maidens like a sunny day in June. Her hair was as golden as the butter-cups in the spring meadows, her eyes were blue like a summer sea, and her face fair as a hawthorn bush when it first opens its buds of red and white.

But Frithiof was silent in her presence, for he had no words save "I love thee" in his mind.

After this festival, the two kings turned home again in deeper wrath than ever, for they saw how all men loved Frithiof and had him in honour.

But after their departure, Frithiof grew silent and sad of countenance, and when his foster-brother Bjoern questioned him as to the cause he answered: "Sad am I because I love the Princess Ingeborg with all my heart, and now would I ask for her in marriage. But I am not of royal birth, and much I fear that my suit will be refused."

"Let us at least make trial," said practical Bjoern; and so, together with a band of followers, they set off in the swift dragon-ship Ellida to the strand where, upon their father's burial mound, the kings sat in judgment with their people.

Then Frithiof stood forth and in manly words made his request for the hand of Ingeborg the Fair. But the kings said scornfully:

"Think not that we would give our sister to a peasant's son. She is for a proud Northland chieftain, not for such as you, though all men may boast of your wondrous deeds."

"Then," said Frithiof, in slow-gathering wrath, "my errand is soon finished. Remember, that if this is your final answer, I will never give you help in trouble, however much you may require it."

"Our kingdom requires not your service," they answered jeeringly, "we can protect it ourselves. But if you need employment, why, we can give you a servant's place among our household men."

Then Frithiof reared his great head, saying proudly:

"No man of yours am I, but, as my father was, I am a man for myself. And now, were it not for the honour I bear to our fathers' graves, your words would cost you dear. Hereafter come not within range of my sword."

And as he spoke, with one blow he cleft the golden war shield of Helge with his good sword, and the two halves fell clashing to the ground.



CHAPTER XXII

Frithiof and Ingeborg

This is the tale the Northmen tell of how Ingeborg went to dwell in Balder's grove.

Far in the south of that land lived a mighty ruler, whose name was Ring. Wise was he, and king of a land like the groves of the gods, where the corn crops waved each year and peace and justice flourished within its borders. For thirty years had he ruled his kingdom, and each year his people rose up and called him blessed.

Now one day this king sat deep in thought upon his golden chair, and when he at length pushed it back from the board, his chieftains rose up gladly to hear his words.

And the king said: "It is now a weary while since the queen, my wife, left me sorrowful upon the earth and went to dwell in the bowers of the blessed ones in Asgard. Never again shall I find a queen so good and fair; but my children cry to me for a mother's care and I must seek another wife for their sake.

"Now it comes to my remembrance that often King Bele visited my hall, and with him sometimes came his fair daughter Ingeborg. 'Tis on her my choice shall fall, for though I am old and she is but a young girl, I know that she will be a good mother to my children."

"Take therefore gold and gems from yon oak presses, and let the minstrels tune their harps and go forth to ask her in marriage from the sons of Bele."

So a long line of harpers went forth, followed by youths in glad array, and they stood before King Helge and King Halfdan, and gave to them the message of King Ring.

Now Helge was nothing loth to give his fair sister to the king, although he was an old man and she but a young girl; but, since he was always very heedful of the will of the gods, he offered sacrifice and carefully consulted the wise men and the wise women and all the omens as to whether this thing should be. And all with one consent answered that the marriage must not be allowed.

So Helge refused the king's request courteously enough, saying that man must obey when the gods decree; but Halfdan, being rude and waggish of tongue, said: "King Greybeard himself should have ridden hither for his bride if he is not too old to mount his horse!"

Then the messenger returned wrathful, and King Ring said grimly: "They shall soon see if King Greybeard be too old to take revenge," and with that he struck his war shield, as it hung on the tree above him, such a blow that the echo of it was borne even to the hall of Helge and Halfdan. Then he sent messengers, this time in warlike array, to the two kings, bidding them submit to his authority and pay him tribute. "If ye refuse," said they, "our king will send a great army and take the kingdom and utterly destroy you and your people."

But Helge and Halfdan answered with spirit:

"Not in our young days will we learn to do that which we will never know when old, and that is how to do shameful service to a neighbour king."

Then they summoned Hilding, their foster-father, and bade him go to Frithiof and pray him to come with his followers to their aid. And meantime, being in fear for their sister's safety, they sent her away to the dim grove where Balder's temple rose grey among the shadows. There, day by day, fair Ingeborg sat among her maidens at her embroidery, and as she drew the thread it was wet with her tears.

Now when Hilding, that good old yeoman, reached the hall of Frithiof, he found the hero sitting with Bjoern at a game of chess. Gladly was he greeted by the young man, who pointed to the High Chair, the chief seat at the board, and bade him sit and drink a horn of mead while they finished their game.

But Hilding, full of his errand, began at once to speak: "I am sent by the sons of Bele," said he. "They now salute thee and pray that thou wouldst go up to their help to battle against King Ring, who is about to attack their land with violence."

But Frithiof seemingly paid no heed to his words, saying only to his opponent: "Bjoern, thy king is in danger, beware! Yet a pawn can recover him even now."

Then Hilding urged: "Frithiof, my son, anger not the kings. Remember that they too have power, and that they threaten thee with a terrible fate if thou wilt not go forth to their aid."

But Frithiof only said to Bjoern:

"See how thou threatenest my castle in vain!"

"Grim and high the fierce wall rises, Bright the Shield-tower shines within."

Then Hilding tried another argument.

"Son!" he cried, "knowest thou not how Ingeborg weeps all day within the Place of Balder? Wilt thou not fight for her release? Wilt thou leave her blue eyes to melt in vain?"

But Frithiof answered Bjoern, as though unheeding: "Bjoern, 'tis in vain thou tryest to take my queen, ever so dear and true to me. She is my favourite piece in all the game, and, come what will, I'll save my queen."

"What!" cried the old man. "Must I go forth unheeded, without even a reply, because of this child's game?"

Then Frithiof rose and pressed his hand kindly, saying: "Father, naught will make me change my mind, and what thou hast heard me say here in this place, thou mayest tell again to those who sent thee."

When the kings received the report of Hilding concerning Frithiof, they waited but to see that their sister Ingeborg was safe within the walls of Balder's grove, and then prepared to march with all the forces they could muster to meet King Ring.

Meantime Frithiof attired himself in his richest dress, and placed his golden ring upon his arm, and called on Bjoern and his servants to follow him.

"Whither now do we go, my brother?" asked Bjoern.

"To the grove of Balder," answered Frithiof shortly.

"That is not well," said Bjoern anxiously. "It will draw down the anger of the gods upon us."

"That remains to be seen," replied Frithiof.

So they rowed over the firth and entered Balder's grove, and made their way into Ingeborg's bower.

Now when she saw Frithiof, the blue eyes of Ingeborg flashed with joy, but she said gravely, as she rose to receive him: "Now wherefore art thou so bold, Frithiof, to come hither against the will of my brothers and to bring the wrath of the gods upon us?"

But Frithiof replied: "Nay, love, no perils attend us. Fear not the wrath of Balder; that gentle god will not punish true lovers. Let us kneel at his shrine. No incense is more grateful to his soul than the faith of two young hearts vowing eternal love."

So when they had knelt for a space they sat down side by side, and Frithiof drew the ring from off his arm and gave it to Ingeborg, saying: "This ring will I give thee if thou wilt promise never to part with it, but to send it to me when thou no longer hast need of it. And with it I plight thee my troth."

And in the same manner did Ingeborg give her own ring to Frithiof.

And then Ingeborg with fond entreaties implored her lover to seek Helge once again, and offer his hand, lest haply he might be reconciled. Long did Frithiof hesitate, but at last the melting eyes of Ingeborg could be denied no longer, and he promised that once again would he seek the kings in peace and friendship.



CHAPTER XXIII

Frithiof Braves the Storm

This is the tale the Northmen tell of how Frithiof the Bold went on a perilous adventure.

Now when the two young kings met with Ring, and found that his forces were far stronger than theirs, their hearts failed them and they sent messengers to sue for peace. And it was arranged that they should submit to King Ring, and should give Ingeborg their sister to him in marriage, together with the third part of all their possession.

Now one morning tidings were brought to Frithiof by Bjoern, who cried: "The kings are returned home, and short enough will be our time of peace, for we have broken the law of Balder, and we shall have to pay."

But Frithiof, who knew no fear, bade him be at rest, saying that directly the kings had taken their seat upon their father's grave-mound, to hear the suits brought before them, he intended once again to claim the hand of Ingeborg.

So on the day appointed he sought the place where Helge sat, black as a thunder-cloud, with his warriors around him, and foolish Halfdan, jesting as usual, and playing with his sword, stood by his side. And Frithiof stood forth and said: "Not yet is thy kingdom free, O Helge, from the threat of battle. Give me then thy sister and my strong right arm shall fight for thee. Come, let this grudge between us be forgotten, for I am loth to bear myself ill towards the brother of Ingeborg and the sons of Bele. Here is my hand; but by the gods I swear that, if thou refuse, it shall never be stretched forth to thee in peace again."

At these words a shout broke from the listening throng and the air was rent with the noise of clashing weapons.

"Ay! Give him Ingeborg, for what swordsman in our land is like to him?"

And even foolish Halfdan joined in the prayer.

But Helge, still cold and hard, made reply:

"The peasant's son might indeed have claimed the Princess Ingeborg, but not he who has broken Balder's peace. Say, Frithiof, hast thou not spurned the law of Balder's house and spoken to my sister within his sacred walls?"

Then from the crowd of warriors came the murmur: "Say but nay, say nay! The word of Thorsten's son is good as any king's. Say nay! Say nay!"

But Frithiof made reply: "I will not lie to gain the joys of Asgard. I have seen thy sister and spoken to her within yon walls, yet have I not disturbed Balder nor broken his good peace."

Then all that assembly was filled with horror as they heard his words, for they all feared the wrath of the god. Hoarse and gloomy was the voice of Helge as he said:

"Now, by my great father's laws, I could condemn thee to banishment or death, but, even as great Balder was mild, so shall my judgment be.

"Far away on the isles of the west dwells a mighty jarl named Angantyr, who in my father's days paid yearly tribute to our land, and since his death has kept all back. Away then to his realm, collect the money, and bring it back to us. 'Tis said he is hard-handed, and will meet with the sharp sword him who asks for his gold, but what is that to thee? Hence, Frithiof, or be branded coward for evermore."

Then Frithiof bowed his head and departed, for he knew that it was the will of Balder that this thing should be.

But first he went again to visit his betrothed and to bid her a sad farewell. Heavy of heart was Ingeborg, for she knew that her brother had planned an expedition that should cost Frithiof his life; but Frithiof cheered her, reminding her that this Angantyr, whom men so dreaded, was his father's oldest friend.

So Frithiof prepared to set out on his journey, but first he made a pact with Helge that his possessions should rest in peace during his absence, and the promise was confirmed with oaths.

Then Frithiof set out with eighteen of his companions, and they went on board the swift ship Ellida and sailed out beyond the bay.

But no sooner had he departed than the kings plundered and burnt his village. After this, they sent two witches, and bade them send such a terrible tempest against Frithiof and his followers that they should all perish in the sea. To this the evil hags readily agreed, and, having climbed to the top of a high mountain, began to cast their wicked spells upon the winds.

Thus it came to pass that when Frithiof and his men had left the land far behind them there arose a great storm, and a mighty wind, which lashed the waves to the very stars and drove the ship violently along.

But Frithiof only smiled and sang:

"Run, good ship, before the wind, Ingeborg thou soon shalt find. Ingeborg, the maid I love, Waits for me in Balder's grove."

Then said Bjoern, in fear and wrath: "Well would it be if thou hadst something better to do than to sing of Balder's grove."

But Frithiof laughed aloud, and showed him how the north wind was blowing them straight to the Solundar Isles, where they might find safe harbour. They did not bide there long, however, for the weather suddenly became calmer, and for awhile they sailed along before a favourable breeze. Then the wind began to freshen again, and when they were far out at sea a still mightier tempest arose, with so much sleet and snow that they could not see the prow of the vessel from the stern. The waves also beat over the ship, so that they had to bale incessantly. But Frithiof, though he toiled harder than them all, continued to laugh and sing, though Bjoern growled: "He who wanders far meets many a hindrance."

Then a great sea swept over the boat and nearly swamped her; and Frithiof cried: "See how the Swan Maidens are pledging us!" and set to work to bale with a good heart.

Still higher rose the storm, till the waves, like snow mountains, reared themselves above the ship; and Bjoern cried in despair: "Sure woe is now at hand, my foster-brother. Why didst thou ever enter the bower of Balder's grove?"

But Frithiof said with a laugh: "Methinks some of our good fellows will have to journey to the realms of Ran, the Sea-goddess, and we shall cut but a sorry figure there unless we go with a brave face and red gold in our hands."

So saying he took the gold ring that Ingeborg had given him and cut it in pieces and divided it among his men.

At last the storm grew still and the waves calm; but the ship was water-logged, and Frithiof called loudly on the men to bale her out.

"It is useless to try to do it," said the faint-hearted Bjoern, but Frithiof cried: "Come, brother, never despair, for it hath ever been a hero's custom to give what help he can as long as possible, come what may hereafter."

So they baled Ellida clear, and, seeing his companions were now worn out with toil, Frithiof bade them lie down in the boat and rest. And he himself took two oars at the prow and rowed onwards with his mighty strength till they came to land; and finding that his followers were still weak and weary he carried them over the surf on his shoulders and set them safely on shore.

Now the island on which they had landed was part of the domain of that Jarl Angantyr, and soon a message him:

"Tidings, my jarl. Men have come ashore, but they seem weary and helpless enough. Yet one of them is so strong and fresh that he carries all the others to land."

"Surely," said the jarl, "that man must be Frithiof, son of my old friend Thorsten, a man renowned for all good deeds."

Then Angantyr sent messengers to bid Frithiof welcome and to bring him to his hall. And he prevailed upon his guest to pass the winter with him, and showed high hospitality to him and to all his men. But when Frithiof spoke of the errand on which he had come, the jarl said proudly: "No tribute shall King Helge have of me, but thou, my friend, shall take back such treasure as thou wilt, and tribute thou mayest call it, or any other name, as thou desirest. For now it is clear to me that Helge hath laid a trap for thee, and such kings are but ill-esteemed in this land."



CHAPTER XXIV

Balder Forgives

This is the tale the Northmen tell of how Frithiof the Bold was wedded to Ingeborg the Fair.

Now while Frithiof was absent in the Western Isles there came Ring, that good old chieftain, northward to the land of the two young rulers, Helge and Halfdan.

Sorely grieved was Ingeborg when she knew that she must wed the stranger king, but she knew naught of what had happened to Frithiof, and was obliged to obey her brothers' will.

And as they sat at the marriage feast, Ring saw the bracelet upon her arm and knew that it had been Frithiof's; and he bade her take it off and give it to the wife of Helge that she might give it to the wanderer on his return.

In the following spring came Frithiof back again to Norway, having parted from Angantyr with much love and goodwill. But as he neared his home, one met him whom he knew, who said: "Black have grown the buildings here, and traces there are none of the hands of friends."

Then Frithiof held counsel with his men and they shaped their course to the hall of the kings. But upon arrival there he heard that they were away at Balder's grove offering a sacrifice. So he set off thither with Bjoern, leaving the rest with orders to make holes in all the ships, both large and small, that lay in that harbour. When they came to the entrance of the temple, Frithiof bade Bjoern stay outside and, entering alone, stood silent in the shadows watching where King Helge stood, crowned, by the altar of fire, whose flickering flames painted the great wooden image of Balder with a golden glory. Around the walls were ranged the ancient priests, silver-bearded, some with burning brands and others with flint knives for the sacrifice.

Up to King Helge then strode Frithiof and, taking from his girdle the bag of silver which he had received from Angantyr, he flung it in the face of the king, saying: "Receive thy tribute thus!" And so hard did he fling the money that it struck out two of Helge's teeth, and he fell senseless on the floor.

Now there were few but old men in the temple hall, and they were awed by the sight of Frithiof's gleaming blade.

So for a time he stood unmolested, but as he turned to go the arm-ring he had given to Ingeborg caught his eye, for it had been placed upon Balder's arm. "Pardon, O Balder," he said, "but thou wilt no claim a stolen jewel!" As he spoke he tugged at the ring, but it seemed to have grown fast to the wooden arm. Frithiof put forth all his strength, and suddenly the ring came away, but the great figure of the god fell prone across the altar, whose flames immediately enveloped it and leapt up as though in triumph to the rafters of the hall.

Then was there great confusion as the flames spread rapidly. Frithiof stayed to render what aid was possible, but when it was seen that the temple was doomed to utter destruction he turned grief-stricken away, and rejoining his companions they put out to sea.

When King Helge came to his senses again his first thought was vengeance, and he summoned his men to pursue after Frithiof. But his ships had barely got under way when they began to sink, so that they had to put back quickly into harbour. Then in his fury did Helge snatch his bow to shoot an arrow after Frithiof, but so strongly did he pull it that the string broke and the bow fell useless from his hand.

Meantime, Frithiof sailed merrily out to sea; and when Bjoern questioned him as to what he meant to do next he replied: "Since I may no longer stay in Norway, I will learn the customs of the sea-chief, and will rove as a Viking."

So all through the summer they sailed to distant islands and far-off countries, winning both goods and renown, until he had become exceeding rich and famous. Wicked and cruel men he slew, but peasants and merchants and women he let go free, like the good Viking that he was.

At length, after four years had thus passed away, Frithiof said to Bjoern: "Weary am I of these expeditions, and therefore will I sail away to Uplands and hold discourse with good King Ring."

"It is not good," said Bjoern, "to trust thyself in a rival's power. If thou must do this rash thing at least go not alone."

"I am never alone," replied the hero, "while my sword hangs at my side."

Frithiof now made preparation for his journey, and when he said farewell to his companions he was clad in a cloak of skin which completely covered him, and he walked with two staves as one who is bowed down with years. His face, too, was covered with a great beard.

It was eventide when he entered the king's hall and stood far down by the door with his cloak drawn over his face.

Then the king said to the queen as she sat by him at table: "There has just come a man into the hall taller by far than other men."

And she answered without interest that that was no great news.

Then the king sent for the stranger and questioned him as to whence he came; and because he loved to show hospitality he bade him seat himself at his side. "But," said he, "let fall that shaggy hide, which covers, as I think, a proper man."

Then Frithiof showed himself in a dark-blue kirtle, with the ring gleaming on his arm and his sword girt to a broad silver belt, from which hung a well-filled purse. And when the queen saw that arm-ring she knew Frithiof, in spite of the great beard that he had grown; but she betrayed her recognition only by her changing colour and the heaving of her breast.

Now the king soon grew to love Frithiof, whom he compelled to stay with him all the winter through. Little and seldom spoke the queen to him, but by the king he was ever regarded with a glad and smiling countenance.

Then it came to pass that one day Frithiof had accompanied them to a banquet, and their way lay over a lake. And Frithiof warned the king that the ice on this lake was not safe. Scarcely had the king thanked him for his care when the ice broke, and the sledge with the royal pair upon it must have been submerged had not Frithiof dragged it forth and saved their lives. Then said the king, looking at him very kindly: "Well done, good friend, Frithiof the Bold could not have done better had he been here."

The winter passed away, and one day, when the woods were full of green leaves, the king went forth into them with Frithiof as his only companion. Presently said the king: "Heavy am I with sleep, and here must I rest."

But Frithiof said: "Not so; let my lord journey home, for here is danger to those who sleep in the open air."

"I care not," said the king, and so laid himself down to sleep.

And as he slept Frithiof came and looked on him, and then quickly took his sword from its scabbard and flung it away.

Then the king opened his eyes and said: "Well hast thou resisted that temptation, Frithiof; for Frithiof I knew thee to be when first thou camest into my hall. Now stay with me, for my heart yearns towards thee and I am far stricken in years, and if thou wilt be my right hand for the days that are left, thou shalt have my land after my death for thine own."

But Frithiof shook his head sadly, saying: "not so, O king, for even now must I journey away from these shores."

Shortly after this Frithiof prepared to depart, and his dragon-ship lay at her moorings tugging as though eager to breast the waves of ocean once again. Then came he to Ring and Ingeborg, but the old king was at the point of death. "Valhalla calls to me," said he, "and my weary spirit would fain be at rest. Frithiof, take thou my kingdom and guard the crown." He then placed the hand of his queen in that of Frithiof, and a moment later his spirit was borne by the Valkyrs into the Regions of the Blessed.

So they raised a mighty cairn above King Ring, and great was the mourning and lamentation in the land. Then all men looked to Frithiof as his successor, but he bade them give their allegiance to the son of King Ring, who was a right noble boy, and when they looked upon him they saw that he was worthy to wear his father's crown.

But because the people loved Frithiof, they cried: "Govern thou the realm while our king is young, and let us celebrate thy marriage with Ingeborg, as King Ring desired."

But Frithiof answered sadly: "I must fare over the seas to Balder's sacred grove. The mild god's wrath still burns against me. He took, he only can restore, my cherished bride."

The farewells have been spoken, the swift ship has cleaved the waves, and the hero stands in the desolate grove where once stood the temple of Balder, but where wild animals are now in hiding.

"Mild, blue-eyed Balder," speaks the hero, "will no atonement quit me of my guilt? Blood-fines take we for kinsmen slain, and the high gods are not wont to nurse their wrath when altar flames consume the sacrifice. Some offering ask, all that thou wilt is thine."

"Then sudden, o'er the western waters pendent, An Image comes, with gold and flames resplendent, O'er Balder's grove it hovers, night's clouds under, Like gold crown resting on a bed of green. At last to a temple settling, firm 'tis grounded— Where Balder stood, another temple's founded."

Frithiof gazed in wonderment, and his heart went out in praise for the sign vouchsafed. He would raise a shrine more glorious than the one which had been destroyed by fire, and thus would he be at rest.

Now, while the timbers were being hewn and the carved pillars were taking shape, King Helge was absent upon a foray amongst the Finnish mountains. One day his band passed by a crag where stood the lonely shrine of some forgotten god, and King Helge scaled the rocky summit with intent to raze the ruined walls. The lock held fast and, as Helge tugged fiercely at the mouldered gate, suddenly a sculptured image of the deity, rudely summoned from his ancient sleep, started from his niche above.