of catching cold they must be!" whispered the giant ladies, who were
peering over one another's shoulders to catch a glimpse of the bride,
just as the crowd outside the awning does at a wedding nowadays.

Thrym had sent six splendid servants to escort the maidens: these were
the Metal Kings, who served him as lord of them all. There was the
Gold King, all in cloth of gold, with fringes of yellow bullion, most
glittering to see; and there was the Silver King, almost as gorgeous in
a suit of spangled white; and side by side bowed the dark Kings of Iron
and Lead, the one mighty in black, the other sullen in blue; and after
them were the Copper King, gleaming ruddy and brave, and the Tin King,
strutting in his trimmings of gaudy tinsel which looked nearly as well
as silver but were more economical. And this fine troop of lackey kings
most politely led Thor and Loki into the palace, and gave them of the
best, for they never suspected who these seeming maidens really were.

And when evening came there was a wonderful banquet to celebrate the
wedding. On a golden throne sat Thrym, uglier than ever in his finery
of purple and gold. Beside him was the bride, of whose face no one had
yet caught even a glimpse; and at Thrym's other hand stood Loki, the
waiting-maid, for he wanted to be near to mend the mistakes which Thor
might make.

Now the dishes at the feast were served in a huge way, as befitted the
table of giants: great beeves roasted whole, on platters as wide across
as a ship's deck; plum-puddings as fat as feather-beds, with plums as
big as footballs; and a wedding cake like a snow-capped haymow. The
giants ate enormously. But to Thor, because they thought him a dainty
maiden, they served small bits of everything on a tiny gold dish. Now
Thor's long journey had made him very hungry, and through his veil
he whispered to Loki, "I shall starve, Loki! I cannot fare on these
nibbles. I must eat a goodly meal as I do at home." And forthwith he
helped himself to such morsels as might satisfy his hunger for a little
time. You should have seen the giants stare at the meal which the
dainty bride devoured!

For first under the silver veil disappeared by pieces a whole roast ox.
Then Thor made eight mouthfuls of eight pink salmon, a dish of which
he was very fond. And next he looked about and reached for a platter
of cakes and sweetmeats that was set aside at one end of the table for
the lady guests, and the bride ate them all. You can fancy how the
damsels drew down their mouths and looked at one another when they saw
their dessert disappear; and they whispered about the table, "Alack!
if our future mistress is to sup like this day by day, there will be
poor cheer for the rest of us!" And to crown it all, Thor was thirsty,
as well he might be; and one after another he raised to his lips and
emptied three great barrels of mead, the foamy drink of the giants.
Then indeed Thrym was amazed, for Thor's giant appetite had beaten that
of the giants themselves.

"Never before saw I a bride so hungry," he cried, "and never before one
half so thirsty!"

But Loki, the waiting-maid, whispered to him softly, "The truth is,
great Thrym, that my dear mistress was almost starved. For eight days
Freia has eaten nothing at all, so eager was she for Jotunheim."

Then Thrym was delighted, you may be sure. He forgave his hungry bride,
and loved her with all his heart. He leaned forward to give her a kiss,
raising a corner of her veil; but his hand dropped suddenly, and he
started up in terror, for he had caught the angry flash of Thor's eye,
which was glaring at him through the bridal veil. Thor was longing for
his hammer.

"Why has Freia so sharp a look?" Thrym cried. "It pierces like
lightning and burns like fire."

But again the sly waiting-maid whispered timidly, "Oh, Thrym, be not
amazed! The truth is, my poor mistress's eyes are red with wakefulness
and bright with longing. For eight nights Freia has not known a wink of
sleep, so eager was she for Jotunheim."

Then again Thrym was doubly delighted, and he longed to call her his
very own dear wife. "Bring in the wedding gift!" he cried. "Bring in
Thor's hammer, Miölnir, and give it to Freia, as I promised; for when I
have kept my word she will be mine,--all mine!"

Then Thor's big heart laughed under his woman's dress, and his fierce
eyes swept eagerly down the hall to meet the servant who was bringing
in the hammer on a velvet cushion. Thor's fingers could hardly wait
to clutch the stubby handle which they knew so well; but he sat quite
still on the throne beside ugly old Thrym, with his hands meekly folded
and his head bowed like a bashful bride.

The giant servant drew nearer, nearer, puffing and blowing, strong
though he was, beneath the mighty weight. He was about to lay it at
Thor's feet (for he thought it so heavy that no maiden could lift it or
hold it in her lap), when suddenly Thor's heart swelled, and he gave a
most unmaidenly shout of rage and triumph. With one swoop he grasped
the hammer in his iron fingers; with the other arm he tore off the
veil that hid his terrible face, and trampled it under foot; then he
turned to the frightened king, who cowered beside him on the throne.

"Thief!" he cried. "Freia sends you _this_ as a wedding gift!" And he
whirled the hammer about his head, then hurled it once, twice, thrice,
as it rebounded to his hand; and in the first stroke, as of lightning,
Thrym rolled dead from his throne; in the second stroke perished the
whole giant household,--these ugly enemies of the Æsir; and in the
third stroke the palace itself tumbled together and fell to the ground
like a toppling play-house of blocks.

But Loki and Thor stood safely among the ruins, dressed in their
tattered maiden robes, a quaint and curious sight; and Loki, full of
mischief now as ever, burst out laughing.

"Oh, Thor! if you could see"--he began; but Thor held up his hammer and
shook it gently as he said,--

"Look now, Loki: it was an excellent joke, and so far you have done
well,--after your crafty fashion, which likes me not. But now I have
my hammer again, and the joke is done. From you, nor from another, I
brook no laughter at my expense. Henceforth we will have no mention of
this masquerade, nor of these rags which now I throw away. Do you hear,
red laugher?"

And Loki heard, with a look of hate, and stifled his laughter as best
he could; for it is not good to laugh at him who holds the hammer.

Not once after that was there mention in Asgard of the time when Thor
dressed him as a girl and won his bridal gift from Thrym the giant.

But Miölnir was safe once more in Asgard, and you and I know how it
came there; so some one must have told. I wonder if red Loki whispered
the tale to some outsider, after all? Perhaps it may be so, for now he
knew how best to make Thor angry; and from that day when Thor forbade
his laughing, Loki hated him with the mean little hatred of a mean
little soul.

THE GIANTESS WHO WOULD NOT

Of all the Æsir who sat in the twelve seats about Father Odin's
wonder-throne none was so dear to the people of Midgard, the world of
men, as Frey. For Frey, the twin brother of Freia the fair, was the god
who sent sunshine and rain upon the earth that men's crops might grow
and ripen, and the fruits become sweet and mellow. He gave men cattle,
and showed them how to till the fields; and it was he who spread peace
and prosperity over the world. For he was lord of the Light-Elves,
the spirits of the upper air, who were more beautiful than the sun.
And these were his servants whom he sent to answer the prayers of the
men who loved him. Frey was more beautiful, too, than any of the Æsir
except young Balder. This was another reason why he was so beloved by
all. But there came a time when Frey found some one who would not love
him; and that was a new experience for him, a punishment for the only
wrong he ever committed.

You remember that Father Odin had a wonderful throne in the
silver-roofed house, a throne whence he could see everything that was
happening in all the world? Well, no one was allowed to sit upon this
throne except All-Father himself, for he would not have the others
spying into affairs which only the King of Asgard was wise enough to
understand. But one day, when Odin was away from home, Frey had such
a longing to climb up where he might gaze upon all the world which he
loved, that he could not resist the temptation. He stole up to the
great throne when no one was looking, and mounting the steps, seated
himself upon All-Father's wonder-seat.

Oh, marvelous, grand, and beautiful! He looked off into the heavens,
and there he saw all the Æsir busy about their daily work. He looked
above, into the shining realm of clear air. And there he saw his
messengers, the pretty little Light-Elves, flying about upon their
errands of help for men. Some were carrying seeds for the farmers to
plant. Some were watering the fields with their little water-pots,
making the summer showers. Some were pinching the cheeks of the apples
to make them red, and others were reeling silk for the corn-tassels.
Then Frey looked down upon the earth, where men were scurrying around
like little ants, improving the blessings which his servants were
sending, and often stopping their work to give thanks to their beloved
Frey. And this made his kind heart glad.

Next he turned his gaze down into the depths of the blue ocean which
flowed about Midgard like a great river. And down in the sea-caves he
saw the mermaids playing, Queen Ran and her daughters the white-capped
Waves, with their nets ready to catch the sailors who might be drowned
at sea. And he saw King Œgir, among the whales and dolphins, with all
the myriad wondrous creatures who lived in his watery empire. But
Frey's father, old Niörd, lord of the ocean wind, would have been more
interested than he in such a sight.

Last of all Frey bent his eyes upon the far, cold land of Jotunheim,
beyond the ocean, where the giants lived; and as he did so, a beam
of brightness dazzled him. He rubbed his eyes and looked again; and
lo! the flash was from the bright arms of a beautiful maiden, who was
passing from her father's hall to her own little bower. When she raised
her arms to open the door, the air and water reflected their brightness
so that the whole world was flooded with light, and one shaft shot
straight into the heart of Frey, making him love her and long for her
more than for anything he had ever seen. But because he knew that she
must be a giant's daughter, how could he win her for his bride? Frey
descended from Odin's throne very sadly, very hopelessly, and went home
with a heavy heart which would let him neither eat nor sleep. This was
the penalty which came for his disobedience in presuming to sit upon
Odin's sacred throne.

For hours no one dared speak to Frey, he looked so gloomy and
forbidding, quite unlike his own gay self. Niörd his father was greatly
worried, and knew not what to do; at last he sent for Skirnir, who was
Frey's favorite servant, and bade him find out what was the matter.
Skirnir therefore went to his master, whom he found sitting all alone
in his great hall, looking as if there were no more joy for him.

"What ails you, master?" asked Skirnir. "From the beginning of time
when we were very young we two have lived together, and I have served
you with loving care. You ought, then, to have confidence in me and
tell me all your troubles."

"Ah, Skirnir, my faithful friend," sighed Frey, "how shall I tell you
my sorrow? The sun shines every day, but no longer brings light to my
sad heart. And all because I saw more than was good for me!"

So then he told Skirnir all the matter: how he had stolen into Odin's
seat, and what he had seen from there; how he loved a giant's daughter
whose arms were more bright than silver moonbeams.

"Oh, Skirnir, I love her very dearly," he cried; "but because our races
are enemies she would never marry me, I know, even if her father would
allow it. Therefore is it that I am so sad."

But Skirnir did not seem to think the case so hopeless. "Give me but
your swift horse," he said, "which can bear me even through flames
of fire and thick smoke; give me also your magic wand and your sword,
which if he be brave who carries it, will smite by itself any giant who
comes in its way,--and I will see what I can do for you."

Then Skirnir rode forth upon his dangerous errand; for a visit to Giant
Land was ever a perilous undertaking, as you may well imagine. As
Skirnir rode, he patted his good horse's neck and said to him, "Dark it
is, friend, and we have to go over frosty mountains and among frosty
people this night. Bear me well, good horse; for if you fail me the
giants will catch us both, and neither of us will return to bring the
news to our master Frey."

After a long night of hard riding over mountain and desolate snowfield,
Skirnir came to that part of Jotunheim where the giant Gymir dwelt.
This was the father of Gerd, the maiden whom Frey had seen and loved.
But first he had to ride through a hedge of flame, which the horse
passed bravely. Now when he came to the house of Gymir, he found a pack
of fierce dogs chained about the door to keep strangers away.

"H'm!" thought Skirnir, "I like this little indeed. I must find out
whether there be not some other entrance." So he looked around, and
soon he saw a herdsman sitting on a little hill, tending his cattle.
Skirnir rode up to him.

"Ho, friend," he cried. "Tell me, how am I to pass these growling curs
so that I may speak with the young maiden who dwells in this house?"

"Are you mad, or are you a spirit who is not afraid of death!"
exclaimed the herdsman. "Know you not that you can never enter there?
That is Gymir's dwelling, and he lets no one speak with his fair and
good daughter."

"If I choose to die, you need not weep for me," quoth Skirnir boldly.
"But I do not think that I am yet to die. The Norn-maidens spun my fate
centuries ago, and they only can tell what is to be." Now Skirnir's
voice was loud and the hoof-beats of his horse were mighty. For this
was one of the magic steeds of Asgard, used to bearing Frey himself
on his broad back. And not without much noise had all these things
been said and done. From her room in Gymir's mansion Gerd heard the
stranger's voice, and to her waiting-maid she said, "What are these
sounds that I hear? The earth is trembling and all the house shakes."

Then the servant ran to look out of the window, and in a minute
she popped in her head, crying, "Here is a mighty stranger who has
dismounted from his horse and leads him by the bridle to crop the
grass."

Gerd was curious to see who this stranger might be; for her father kept
her close and she saw few visitors.

"Bid him enter our hall," she said, "and give him a horn of bright
mead to drink. I will see him, though I fear it is the slayer of my
brother." For Gerd was the sister of Thiasse whom Thor slew.

So Skirnir came into the hall, and Gerd received him coldly. "Who are
you?" she asked. "Which of the wise Æsir are you? For I know that only
one of the mighty ones from Asgard would have the courage and the power
to pass through the raging flames that surround my father's land."

"I come from Frey, O maiden," said Skirnir, "from Frey, whom all folk
love. I come to beg that you also will love him and consent to be his
wife. For Frey has seen your beauty, and you are very dear to him."

Gerd laughed carelessly. "I have heard of your fair Frey," she said,
"and how he is more dear to all than sunshine and the sweet smell of
flowers. But he is not dear to me. I do not wish the love of Frey, nor
any of that race of giant-killers. Tell him that I will not be his
bride."

"Stay, be not so hasty," urged Skirnir. "We have more words to exchange
before I start for home. Look, I will give you eleven golden apples
from Asgard's magic tree if you will go with me to Frey's dwelling."

Gerd would hear nothing of the golden apples. Then Skirnir promised her
the golden ring, Draupnir, which the dwarfs had made for Odin, out of
which every ninth night dropped eight other rings as large and bright.
But neither would Gerd listen to word of this generous gift. "I have
gold enough in my father's house," she said disdainfully. "With such
trifles you cannot tempt me to marry your Frey."

Then Skirnir was very angry, and he began to storm and threaten. "I
will strike you with the bright sword which I hold in my hand!" he
cried. "It is Frey's magic sword, under which even that stout old giant
your father must sink if he comes within its reach." But again Gerd
laughed, though with less mirth in her laughter. "I will tame you with
Frey's magic wand!" he threatened, "the wand with which he rules the
Light-Elves, and changes folk into strange shapes. You shall vanish
from the sight of men, and pass your life on the eagle's mount far
above the sky, where you shall sit all day, too sad to eat. And when
you come thence, after countless ages, you will be a hideous monster at
which all creatures will stare in mockery and scorn."

These were dreadful words, and Gerd no longer laughed when she heard
them. But she was obstinate. "I do not love Frey," she said, "and I
will not be his bride."

Then Skirnir was angry indeed, and his fury blazed out in threats most
horrible. "If you will not marry my dear master," he cried, "you shall
be the most unhappy girl that ever lived. You shall cry all day long
and never see joy again. You shall marry a hideous old three-headed
giant, and from day to day you shall ever be in terror of some still
more dreadful fate to come!"

Now Gerd began to tremble, for she saw that Frey's servant meant every
word that he spoke. But she was not ready to yield. "Go back to the
land of Elves," she taunted; "I will not be their Queen at any cost."

Now Skirnir grasped the magic wand, and waving it over her, spoke his
last words of threat and anger. "The gods are angry with you, evil
maiden!" he cried. "Odin sees your obstinacy from his throne, and
will punish you for your cruelty to kind Frey. Frey himself, instead
of loving, will shun you when the gods arm themselves to destroy you
and all your race. Listen, Giants, Dwarfs, Light-Elves, Men, and
all friends of the Æsir! I forbid any one to have aught to do with
this wicked girl,--only the old giant who shall carry her to his
gloomy castle, barred and bolted and grated across. Misery, pain, and
madness--this, Gerd, is the fate which I wave over you with my wand,
unless speedily you repent and do my will."

Poor Gerd gasped and trembled under this dreadful doom. Her willfulness
was quite broken, and now she sought only to make Skirnir unsay the
words of horror. "Hold!" she cried; "be welcome, youth, in the name of
your powerful master, Frey. I cannot afford to be enemy of such as he.
Drink this icy cup of welcome filled with the giant's mead, and take
with it my consent to be the bride of Frey. But alas! I never thought
to be a friend to one of Asgard's race."

"You shall never repent, fair Gerd," said Skirnir gently. For now that
he had won his will, he was all smiles and friendliness. "And when you
see my dear master, you will be glad indeed that you did not insist
upon wedding the old three-headed giant. For Frey is fair,--ay, as fair
as are you yourself. And that is saying much, sweet lady."

So Gerd promised that in nine days she would come to be the bride of
Frey. And the more she thought it over, the less unpleasant seemed the
idea. So that before the time was passed, she was almost as eager as
Frey for their happy meeting; not quite so eager, for you must remember
that she had not yet seen him and knew not all his glory, while he knew
what it was to long and long for what he had once seen.

Indeed, when Skirnir galloped back to Frey as fast as the good horse
could take him, still Frey chided him for being slow. And when
the faithful fellow told the good news of the bride who was to be
his master's in nine short days, still Frey frowned and grumbled
impatiently.

"How can I wait to see her?" he cried. "One day is long; two days are a
century; nine days seem forever. Oh, Skirnir, could you not have done
better than that for your dear master?"

But Skirnir forgave Frey for his impatience, for he knew that
thenceforward his master would love all the better him who had done so
nobly to win the beloved bride.

When Gerd married Frey and went with him to live in Elf Land, where he
and she were king and queen, they were the happiest folk that the world
ever saw. And Gerd was as grateful to Skirnir as Frey himself. For she
could not help thinking of that dreadful old three-headed giant whom
but for him she might have married, instead of her beautiful, kind Frey.

So you see that sometimes one is happier in the end if she is not
allowed to have her own way.

THOR'S VISIT TO THE GIANTS

Nowadays, since their journey to get the stolen hammer, Thor and Loki
were good friends, for Loki seemed to have turned over a new leaf and
to be a very decent sort of fellow; but really he was the same sly
rascal at heart, only biding his time for mischief. However, in this
tale he behaves well enough.

It was a long time since Thor had slain any giants, and he was growing
restless for an adventure. "Come, Loki," he said one day, "let us fare
forth to Giant Land and see what news there is among the Big Folk."

Loki laughed, saying, "Let us go, Thor. I know I am safe with you;"
which was a piece of flattery that happened to be true.

So they mounted the goat chariot as they had done so many times before
and rumbled away out of Asgard. All day they rode; and when evening
came they stopped at a little house on the edge of a forest, where
lived a poor peasant with his wife, his son, and daughter.

"May we rest here for the night, friend?" asked Thor; and noting their
poverty, he added, "We bring our own supper, and ask but a bed to
sleep in." So the peasant was glad to have them stay. Then Thor, who
knew what he was about, killed and cooked his two goats, and invited
the family of peasants to sup with him and Loki; but when the meal was
ended, he bade them carefully save all the bones and throw them into
the goatskins which he had laid beside the hearth. Then Thor and Loki
lay down to sleep.

In the morning, very early, before the rest were awake, Thor rose,
and taking his hammer, Miölnir, went into the kitchen, where were the
remains of his faithful goats. Now the magic hammer was skillful, not
only to slay, but to restore, when Thor's hand wielded it. He touched
with it the two heaps of skin and bones, and lo! up sprang the goats,
alive and well, and as good as new. No, not quite as good as new. What
was this? Thor roared with anger, for one of the goats was lame in one
of his legs, and limped sorely. "Some one has meddled with the bones!"
he cried. "Who has touched the bones that I bade be kept so carefully?"

Thialfi, the peasant's son, had broken one of the thigh-bones in order
to get at the sweet marrow, and this Thor soon discovered by the lad's
guilty face; then Thor was angry indeed. His knuckles grew white as he
clenched the handle of Miölnir, ready to hurl it and destroy the whole
unlucky house and family; but the peasant and the other three fell
upon their knees, trembling with fear, and begged him to spare them.
They offered him all that they owned,--they offered even to become his
slaves,--if he would but spare their wretched lives.

They looked so miserable that Thor was sorry for them, and resolved at
last to punish them only by taking away Thialfi, the son, and Röskva,
the daughter, thenceforth to be his servants. And this was not so bad
a bargain for Thor, for Thialfi was the swiftest of foot of any man in
the whole world.

So he left the goats behind, and fared forth with his three attendants
straight towards the east and Jotunheim. Thialfi carried Thor's wallet
with their scanty store of food. They crossed the sea and came at
last to a great forest, through which they tramped all day, until
once more it was night; and now they must find a place in which all
could sleep safely until morning. They wandered about here and there,
looking for some sign of a dwelling, and at last they came to a big,
queer-shaped house. Very queer indeed it was; for the door at one end
was as broad as the house itself! They entered, and lay down to sleep;
but at midnight Thor was wakened by a terrible noise. The ground shook
under them like an earthquake, and the house trembled as if it would
fall to pieces. Thor arose and called to his companions that there was
danger about, and that they must be on guard. Groping in the dark,
they found a long, narrow chamber on the right, where Loki and the two
peasants hid trembling, while Thor guarded the doorway, hammer in hand.
All night long the terrible noises continued, and Thor's attendants
were frightened almost to death; but early in the morning Thor stole
forth to find out what it all meant. And lo! close at hand in the
forest lay an enormous giant, sound asleep and snoring loudly. Then
Thor understood whence all their night's terror had proceeded, for the
giant was so huge that his snoring shook even the trees of the forest,
and made the mountains tremble. So much the better! Here at last was
a giant for Thor to tackle. He buckled his belt of power more tightly
to increase his strength, and laid hold of Miölnir to hurl it at the
giant's forehead; but just at that moment the giant waked, rose slowly
to his feet, and stood staring mildly at Thor. He did not seem a fierce
giant, so Thor did not kill him at once. "Who are you?" asked Thor
sturdily.

"I am the giant Skrymir, little fellow," answered the stranger, "and
well I know who you are, Thor of Asgard. But what have you been doing
with my glove?"

Then the giant stooped and picked up--what do you think?--the queer
house in which Thor and his three companions had spent the night! Loki
and the two others had run out of their chamber in affright when they
felt it lifted; and their chamber was the thumb of the giant's glove.
That was a giant indeed, and Thor felt sure that they must be well upon
their way to Giant Land.

When Skrymir learned where they were going, he asked if he might not
wend with them, and Thor said that he was willing. Now Skrymir untied
his wallet and sat down under a tree to eat his breakfast, while Thor
and his party chose another place, not far away, for their picnic. When
all had finished, the giant said, "Let us put our provisions together
in one bag, my friends, and I will carry it for you." This seemed fair
enough, for Thor had so little food left that he was not afraid to risk
losing it; so he agreed, and Skrymir tied all the provisions in his
bag and strode on before them with enormous strides, so fast that even
Thialfi could scarcely keep up with him.

The day passed, and late in the evening Skrymir halted under a great
oak-tree, saying, "Let us rest here. I must have a nap, and you must
have your dinner. Here is the wallet,--open it and help yourselves."
Then he lay down on the moss, and was soon snoring lustily.

Thor tried to open the wallet, in vain; he could not loosen a single
knot of the huge thongs that fastened it. He strained and tugged,
growing angrier and redder after every useless attempt. This was too
much; the giant was making him appear absurd before his servants. He
seized his hammer, and bracing his feet with all his might, struck
Skrymir a blow on his head. Skrymir stirred lazily, yawned, opened one
eye, and asked whether a leaf had fallen on his forehead, and whether
his companions had dined yet. Thor bit his lip with vexation, but he
answered that they were ready for bed; so he and his three followers
retired to rest under another oak.

But Thor did not sleep that night. He lay thinking how he had been
put to shame, and how Loki had snickered at the sight of Thor's vain
struggles with the giant's wallet, and he resolved that it should not
happen again. At about midnight, once more he heard the giant's snore
resounding like thunder through the forest. Thor arose, clenching
Miölnir tight, and stole over to the tree where Skrymir slept; then
with all his might he hurled the hammer and struck the giant on the
crown of his head, so hard that the hammer sank deep into his skull. At
this the giant awoke with a start, exclaiming, "What is that? Did an
acorn fall on my head? What are you doing there, Thor?"

Thor stepped back quickly, answering that he had waked up, but that it
was only midnight, so they might all sleep some hours longer. "If I can
only give him one more blow before morning," he thought, "he will never
see daylight again." So he lay watching until Skrymir had fallen asleep
once more, which was near daybreak; then Thor arose as before, and
going very softly to the giant's side, smote him on the temple so sore
that the hammer sank into his skull up to the very handle. "Surely, he
is killed now," thought Thor.

But Skrymir only raised himself on his elbow, stroked his chin, and
said, "There are birds above me in the tree. Methinks that just now a
feather fell upon my head. What, Thor! are you awake? I am afraid you
slept but poorly this night. Come, now, it is high time to rise and
make ready for the day. You are not far from our giant city,--Utgard we
call it. Aha! I have heard you whispering together. You think that I
am big; but you will see fellows taller still when you come to Utgard.
And now I have a piece of advice to give you. Do not pride yourselves
overmuch upon your importance. The followers of Utgard's king think
little of such manikins as you, and will not bear any nonsense, I
assure you. Be advised; return homeward before it is too late. If you
will go on, however, your way lies there to the eastward. Yonder is my
path, over the mountains to the north."

So saying, Skrymir hoisted his wallet upon his shoulders, and turning
back upon the path that led into the forest, left them staring after
him and hoping that they might never see his big bulk again.

Thor and his companions journeyed on until noon, when they saw in
the distance a great city, on a lofty plain. As they came nearer,
they found the buildings so high that the travelers had to bend back
their necks in order to see the tops. "This must be Utgard, the giant
city," said Thor. And Utgard indeed it was. At the entrance was a great
barred gate, locked so that no one might enter. It was useless to try
to force a passage in; even Thor's great strength could not move it on
its hinges. But it was a giant gate, and the bars were made to keep out
other giants, with no thought of folk so small as these who now were
bent upon finding entrance by one way or another. It was not dignified,
and noble Thor disliked the idea. Yet it was their only way; so one
by one they squeezed and wriggled between the bars, until they stood
in a row inside. In front of them was a wonderful great hall with the
door wide open. Thor and the three entered, and found themselves in the
midst of a company of giants, the very hugest of their kind. At the end
of the hall sat the king upon an enormous throne. Thor, who had been in
giant companies ere now, went straight up to the throne and greeted
the king with civil words. But the giant merely glanced at him with a
disagreeable smile, and said,--

"It is wearying to ask travelers about their journey. Such little
fellows as you four can scarcely have had any adventures worth
mentioning. Stay, now! Do I guess aright? Is this manikin Thor of
Asgard, or no? Ah, no! I have heard of Thor's might. You cannot really
be he, unless you are taller than you seem, and stronger too. Let us
see what feats you and your companions can perform to amuse us. No one
is allowed here who cannot excel others in some way or another. What
can you do best?"

At this word, Loki, who had entered last, spoke up readily: "There is
one thing that I can do,--I can eat faster than any man." For Loki was
famished with hunger, and thought he saw a way to win a good meal.

Then the king answered, "Truly, that is a noble accomplishment of
yours, if you can prove your words true. Let us make the test." So he
called forth from among his men Logi,--whose name means "fire,"--and
bade him match his powers with the stranger.

Now a trough full of meat was set upon the floor, with Loki at one end
of it and the giant Logi at the other. Each began to gobble the meat
as fast as he could, and it was not a pretty sight to see them. Midway
in the trough they met, and at first it would seem as if neither had
beaten the other. Loki had indeed done wondrous well in eating the meat
from the bones so fast; but Logi, the giant, had in the same time eaten
not only meat but bones also, and had swallowed his half of the trough
into the bargain. Loki was vanquished at his own game, and retired
looking much ashamed and disgusted.

The king then pointed at Thialfi, and asked what that young man could
best do. Thialfi answered that of all men he was the swiftest runner,
and that he was not afraid to race with any one whom the king might
select.

"That is a goodly craft," said the king, smiling; "but you must be a
swift runner indeed if you can win a race from my Hugi. Let us go to
the racing-ground."

They followed him out to the plain where Hugi, whose name means
"thought," was ready to race with young Thialfi. In the first run Hugi
came in so far ahead that when he reached the goal he turned about and
went back to meet Thialfi. "You must do better than that, Thialfi, if
you hope to win," said the king, laughing, "though I must allow that no
one ever before came here who could run so fast as you."

They ran a second race; and this time when Hugi reached the goal there
was a long bow-shot between him and Thialfi.

"You are truly a good runner," exclaimed the king. "I doubt not that
no man can race like you; but you cannot win from my giant lad, I
think. The last time shall show." Then they ran for the third time, and
Thialfi put forth all his strength, speeding like the wind; but all
his skill was in vain. Hardly had he reached the middle of the course
when he heard the shouts of the giants announcing that Hugi had won the
goal. Thialfi, too, was beaten at his own game, and he withdrew, as
Loki had done, shamefaced and sulky.

There remained now only Thor to redeem the honor of his party, for
Röskva the maiden was useless here. Thor had watched the result of
these trials with surprise and anger, though he knew it was no fault
of Loki or of Thialfi that they had been worsted by the giants. And
Thor was resolved to better even his own former great deeds. The king
called to Thor, and asked him what he thought he could best do to prove
himself as mighty as the stories told of him. Thor answered that he
would undertake to drink more mead than any one of the king's men. At
this proposal the king laughed aloud, as if it were a giant joke. He
summoned his cup-bearer to fetch his horn of punishment, out of which
the giants were wont to drink in turn. And when they returned to the
hall, the great vessel was brought to the king.

"When any one empties this horn at one draught, we call him a famous
drinker," said the king. "Some of my men empty it in two trials; but no
one is so poor a manikin that he cannot empty it in three. Take the
horn, Thor, and see what you can do with it."

Now Thor was very thirsty, so he seized the horn eagerly. It did not
seem to him so very large, for he had drunk from other mighty vessels
ere now. But indeed, it was deep. He raised it to his lips and took
a long pull, saying to himself, "There! I have emptied it already, I
know." Yet when he set the horn down to see how well he had done, he
found that he seemed scarcely to have drained a drop; the horn was
brimming as before. The king chuckled.

"Well, you have drunk but little," he said. "I would never have
believed that famous Thor would lower the horn so soon. But doubtless
you will finish all at a second draught."

Instead of answering, Thor raised the horn once more to his lips,
resolved to do better than before. But for some reason the tip of the
horn seemed hard to raise, and when he set the vessel down again his
heart sank, for he feared that he had drunk even less than at his first
trial. Yet he had really done better, for now it was easy to carry the
horn without spilling. The king smiled grimly. "How now, Thor!" he
cried. "You have left too much for your third trial. I fear you will
never be able to empty the little horn in three draughts, as the least
of my men can do. Ho, ho! You will not be thought so great a hero here
as the folk deem you in Asgard, if you cannot play some other game more
skillfully than you do this one."

At this speech Thor grew very angry. He raised the horn to his mouth
and drank lustily, as long as he was able. But when he looked into the
horn, he found that some drops still remained. He had not been able to
empty it in three draughts. Angrily he flung down the horn, and said
that he would have no more of it.

"Ah, Master Thor," taunted the king, "it is now plain that you are not
so mighty as we thought you. Are you inclined to try some other feats?
For indeed, you are easily beaten at this one."

"I will try whatever you like," said Thor; "but your horn is a wondrous
one, and among the Æsir such a draught as mine would be called far from
little. Come, now,--what game do you next propose, O King?"

The king thought a moment, then answered carelessly, "There is a little
game with which my youngsters amuse themselves, though it is so simple
as to be almost childish. It is merely the exercise of lifting my cat
from the ground. I should never have dared suggest such a feat as this
to you, Thor of Asgard, had I not seen that great tasks are beyond your
skill. It may be that you will find this hard enough." So he spoke,
smiling slyly, and at that moment there came stalking into the hall a
monstrous gray cat, with eyes of yellow fire.

"Ho! Is this the creature I am to lift?" queried Thor. And when they
said that it was, he seized the cat around its gray, huge body and
tugged with all his might to lift it from the floor. Then the wretched
cat, lengthening and lengthening, arched its back like the span of a
bridge; and though Thor tugged and heaved his best, he could manage to
lift but one of its huge feet off the floor. The other three remained
as firmly planted as iron pillars.

"Oho, oho!" laughed the king, delighted at this sight. "It is just as I
thought it would be. Poor little Thor! My cat is too big for him."

"Little I may seem in this land of monsters," cried Thor wrathfully,
"but now let him who dares come hither and try a hug with me."

"Nay, little Thor," said the king, seeking to make him yet more angry,
"there is not one of my men who would wrestle with you. Why, they would
call it child's play, my little fellow. But, for the joke of it, call
in my old foster-mother, Elli. She has wrestled with and worsted many
a man who seemed no weaker than you, O Thor. She shall try a fall with
you."

Now in came the old crone, Elli, whose very name meant "age." She
was wrinkled and gray, and her back was bent nearly double with the
weight of the years which she carried, but she chuckled when she saw
Thor standing with bared arm in the middle of the floor. "Come and be
thrown, dearie," she cried in her cracked voice, grinning horribly.

"I will not wrestle with a woman!" exclaimed Thor, eyeing her with pity
and disgust, for she was an ugly creature to behold. But the old woman
taunted him to his face and the giants clapped their hands, howling
that he was "afraid." So there was no way but that Thor must grapple
with the hag.

The game began. Thor rushed at the old woman and gripped her tightly
in his iron arms, thinking that as soon as she screamed with the pain
of his mighty hug, he would give over. But the crone seemed not to
mind it at all. Indeed, the more he crushed her old ribs together the
firmer and stronger she stood. Now in her turn the witch attempted
to trip up Thor's heels, and it was wonderful to see her power and
agility. Thor soon began to totter, great Thor, in the hands of a poor
old woman! He struggled hard, he braced himself, he turned and twisted.
It was no use; the old woman's arms were as strong as knotted oak. In
a few moments Thor sank upon one knee, and that was a sign that he was
beaten. The king signaled for them to stop. "You need wrestle no more,
Thor," he said, with a curl to his lip, "we see what sort of fellow
you are. I thought that old Elli would have no difficulty in bringing
to his knees him who could not lift my cat. But come, now, night is
almost here. We will think no more of contests. You and your companions
shall sup with us as welcome guests and bide here till the morrow."

Now as soon as the king had pleased himself in proving how small and
weak were these strangers who had come to the giant city, he became
very gracious and kind. But you can fancy whether or no Thor and the
others had a good appetite for the banquet where all the giants ate so
merrily. You can fancy whether or no they were happy when they went to
bed after the day of defeats, and you can guess what sweet dreams they
had.

The next morning at daybreak the four guests arose and made ready to
steal back to Asgard without attracting any more attention. For this
adventure alone of all those in which Thor had taken part had been a
disgraceful failure. Silently and with bowed heads they were slipping
away from the hall when the king himself came to them and begged them
to stay.

"You shall not leave Utgard without breakfast," he said kindly, "nor
would I have you depart feeling unfriendly to me."

Then he ordered a goodly breakfast for the travelers, with store
of choicest dainties for them to eat and drink. When the four had
broken fast, he escorted them to the city gate where they were to say
farewell. But at the last moment he turned to Thor with a sly, strange
smile and asked,--

"Tell me now truly, brother Thor; what think you of your visit to
the giant city? Do you feel as mighty a fellow as you did before you
entered our gates, or are you satisfied that there are folk even
sturdier than yourself?"

At this question Thor flushed scarlet, and the lightning flashed
angrily in his eye. Briefly enough he answered that he must confess to
small pride in his last adventure, for that his visit to the king had
been full of shame to the hero of Asgard. "My name will become a joke
among your people," quoth he. "You will call me Thor the puny little
fellow, which vexes me more than anything; for I have not been wont to
blush at my name."

Then the king looked at him frankly, pleased with the humble manner of
Thor's speech. "Nay," he said slowly, "hang not your head so shamedly,
brave Thor. You have not done so ill as you think. Listen, I have
somewhat to tell you, now that you are outside Utgard,--which, if I
live, you shall never enter again. Indeed, you should not have entered
at all had I guessed what noble strength was really yours,--strength
which very nearly brought me and my whole city to destruction."

To these words Thor and his companions listened with open-mouthed
astonishment. What could the king mean, they wondered? The giant
continued:--

"By magic alone were you beaten, Thor. Of magic alone were my
triumphs,--not real, but seeming to be so. Do you remember the giant
Skrymir whom you found sleeping and snoring in the forest? That was I.
I learned your errand and resolved to lower your pride. When you vainly
strove to untie my wallet, you did not know that I had fastened it with
invisible iron wire, in order that you might be baffled by the knots.
Thrice you struck me with your hammer,--ah! what mighty blows were
those! The least one would have killed me, had it fallen on my head as
you deemed it did. In my hall is a rock with three square hollows in
it, one of them deeper than the others. These are the dents of your
wondrous hammer, my Thor. For, while you thought I slept, I slipped the
rock under the hammer-strokes, and into this hard crust Miölnir bit.
Ha, ha! It was a pretty jest."

Now Thor's brow was growing black at this tale of the giant's trickery,
but at the same time he held up his head and seemed less ashamed of his
weakness, knowing now that it had been no weakness, but lack of guile.
He listened frowningly for the rest of the tale. The king went on:--

"When you came to my city, still it was magic that worsted your party
at every turn. Loki was certainly the hungriest fellow I ever saw, and
his deeds at the trencher were marvelous to behold. But the Logi who
ate with him was Fire, and easily enough fire can consume your meat,
bones, and wood itself. Thialfi, my boy, you are a runner swift as
the wind. Never before saw I such a race as yours. But the Hugi who
ran with you was Thought, my thought. And who can keep pace with the
speed of winged thought? Next, Thor, it was your turn to show your
might. Bravely indeed you strove. My heart is sick with envy of your
strength and skill. But they availed you naught against my magic. When
you drank from the long horn, thinking you had done so ill, in truth
you had performed a miracle,--never thought I to behold the like. You
guessed not that the end of the horn was out in the ocean, which no
one might drain dry. Yet, mighty one, the draughts you swallowed have
lowered the tide upon the shore. Henceforth at certain times the sea
will ebb; and this is by great Thor's drinking. The cat also which you
almost lifted,--it was no cat, but the great Midgard serpent himself
who encircles the whole world. He had barely length enough for his head
and tail to touch in a circle about the sea. But you raised him so high
that he almost touched heaven. How terrified we were when we saw you
heave one of his mighty feet from the ground! For who could tell what
horror might happen had you raised him bodily. Ah, and your wrestling
with old Elli! That was the most marvelous act of all. You had nearly
overthrown Age itself; yet there has never lived one, nor will such
ever be found, whom Elli, old age, will not cast to earth at last.
So you were beaten, Thor, but by a mere trick. Ha, ha! How angry you
looked,--I shall never forget! But now we must part, and I think you
see that it will be best for both of us that we should not meet again.
As I have done once, so can I always protect my city by magic spells.
Yes, should you come again to visit us, even better prepared than now,
yet you could never do us serious harm. Yet the wear and tear upon the
nerves of both of us is something not lightly forgotten."

He ceased, smiling pleasantly, but with a threatening look in his eye.
Thor's wrath had been slowly rising during this tedious, grim speech,
and he could control it no longer.

"Cheat and trickster!" he cried, "your wiles shall avail you nothing
now that I know your true self. You have put me to shame, now my
hammer shall shame you beyond all reckoning!" and he raised Miölnir to
smite the giant deathfully. But at that moment the king faded before
his very eyes. And when he turned to look for the giant city that he
might destroy it,--as he had so many giant dwellings,--there was in the
place where it had been but a broad, fair plain, with no sign of any
palace, wall, or gate. Utgard had vanished. The king had kept one trick
of magic for the last.

Then Thor and his three companions wended their way back to Asgard. But
they were slower than usual about answering questions concerning their
last adventure, their wondrous visit to the giant city. Truth to tell,
magic or no magic, Thor and Loki had showed but a poor figure that day.
For the first time in all their meeting with Thor the giants had not
come off any the worse for the encounter. Perhaps it was a lesson that
he sorely needed. I am afraid that he was rather inclined to think well
of himself. But then, he had reason, had he not?

THOR'S FISHING

Once upon a time the Æsir went to take dinner with old Œgir, the
king of the ocean. Down under the green waves they went to the coral
palace where Œgir lived with his wife, Queen Ran, and his daughters,
the Waves. But Œgir was not expecting so large a party to dinner, and
he had not mead enough for them all to drink. "I must brew some more
mead," he said to himself. But when he came to look for a kettle in
which to make the brew, there was none in all the sea large enough
for the purpose. At first Œgir did not know what to do; but at last
he decided to consult the gods themselves, for he knew how wise and
powerful his guests were, and he hoped that they might help him to a
kettle.

Now when he told the Æsir his trouble they were much interested, for
they were hungry and thirsty, and longed for some of Œgir's good mead.
"Where can we find a kettle?" they said to one another. "Who has a
kettle huge enough to hold mead for all the Æsir?"

Then Tŷr the brave turned to Thor with a grand idea. "My father, the
giant Hymir, has such a kettle," he said. "I have seen it often in his
great palace near Elivâgar, the river of ice. This famous kettle is a
mile deep, and surely that is large enough to brew all the mead we may
need."

"Surely, surely it is large enough," laughed Œgir. "But how are we to
get the kettle, my distinguished guests? Who will go to Giant Land to
fetch the kettle a mile deep?"

"That will I," said brave Thor. "I will go to Hymir's dwelling and
bring thence the little kettle, if Tŷr will go with me to show me the
way." So Thor and Tŷr set out together for the land of snow and ice,
where the giant Hymir lived. They traveled long and they traveled fast,
and finally they came to the huge house which had once been Tŷr's home,
before he went to live with the good folk in Asgard.

Well Tŷr knew the way to enter, and it was not long before they found
themselves in the hall of Hymir's dwelling, peering about for some sign
of the kettle which they had come so far to seek; and sure enough,
presently they discovered eight huge kettles hanging in a row from one
of the beams in the ceiling. While the two were wondering which kettle
might be the one they sought, there came in Tŷr's grandmother,--and
a terrible grandmother she was. No wonder that Tŷr had run away from
home when he was very little; for this dreadful creature was a giantess
with nine hundred heads, each more ugly than the others, and her temper
was as bad as were her looks. She began to roar and bellow; and no one
knows what this evil old person would have done to her grandson and his
friend had not there come into the hall at this moment another woman,
fair and sweet, and glittering with golden ornaments. This was Tŷr's
good mother, who loved him dearly, and who had mourned his absence
during long years.

With a cry of joy she threw herself upon her son's neck, bidding him
welcome forty times over. She welcomed Thor also when she found out who
he was; but she sent away the wicked old grandmother, that she might
not hear, for Thor's name was not dear to the race of giants, to so
many of whom he had brought dole and death.

"Why have you come, dear son, after so many years?" she cried. "I know
that some great undertaking calls you and this noble fellow to your
father's hall. Danger and death wait here for such as you and he; and
only some quest with glory for its reward could have brought you to
such risks. Tell me your secret, Tŷr, and I will not betray it."

Then they told her how that they had come to carry away the giant
kettle; and Tŷr's mother promised that she would help them all she
could. But she warned them that it would be dangerous indeed, for that
Hymir had been in a terrible temper for many days, and that the very
sight of a stranger made him wild with rage. Hastily she gave them meat
and drink, for they were nearly famished after their long journey;
and then she looked around to see where she should hide them against
Hymir's return, who was now away at the hunt.

"Aha!" she cried. "The very thing! You shall hide in the great kettle
itself; and if you escape Hymir's terrible eye, it may hap that you
will find a way to make off with your hiding-place, which is what you
want." So the kind creature helped them to climb into the great kettle
where it hung from one of the rafters in a row with seven others; but
this one was the biggest and the strongest of them all.

Hardly had they snuggled down out of sight when Tŷr's mother began
to tremble. "Hist!" she cried. "I hear him coming. Keep as still as
ever you can, O Tŷr and Thor!" The floor also began to tremble, and
the eight kettles to clatter against one another, as Hymir's giant
footsteps approached the house. Outside they could hear the icebergs
shaking with a sound like thunder; indeed, the whole earth quivered as
if with fear when the terrible giant Hymir strode home from the hunt.
He came into the hall puffing and blowing, and immediately the air
of the room grew chilly; for his beard was hung with icicles and his
face was frosted hard, while his breath was a winter wind,--a freezing
blast.

"Ho! wife," he growled, "what news, what news? For I see by the
footprints in the snow outside that you have had visitors to-day."

Then indeed the poor woman trembled; but she tried not to look
frightened as she answered, "Yes, you have a guest, O Hymir!--a guest
whom you have long wished to see. Your son Tŷr has returned to visit
his father's hall."

"Humph!" growled Hymir, with a terrible frown. "Whom has he brought
here with him, the rascal? There are prints of two persons' feet in the
snow. Come, wife, tell me all; for I shall soon find out the truth,
whether or no."

"He has brought a friend of his,--a dear friend, O Hymir!" faltered the
mother. "Surely, our son's friends are welcome when he brings them to
this our home, after so long an absence."

But Hymir howled with rage at the word "friend." "Where are they
hidden?" he cried. "Friend, indeed! It is one of those bloody fellows
from Asgard, I know,--one of those giant-killers whom my good mother
taught me to hate with all my might. Let me get at him! Tell me
instantly where he is hidden, or I will pull down the hall about your
ears!"

Now when the wicked old giant spoke like this, his wife knew that he
must be obeyed. Still she tried to put off the fateful moment of the
discovery. "They are standing over there behind that pillar," she said.
Instantly Hymir glared at the pillar towards which she pointed, and at
his frosty glance--snick-snack!--the marble pillar cracked in two, and
down crashed the great roof-beam which held the eight kettles. Smash!
went the kettles; and there they lay shivered into little pieces at
Hymir's feet,--all except one, the largest of them all, and that was
the kettle in which Thor and Tŷr lay hidden, scarcely daring to breathe
lest the giant should guess where they were. Tŷr's mother screamed when
she saw the big kettle fall with the others: but when she found that
this one, alone of them all, lay on its side unbroken, because it was
so tough and strong, she held her breath to see what would happen next.

And what happened was this: out stepped Thor and Tŷr, and making
low bows to Hymir, they stood side by side, smiling and looking as
unconcerned as if they really enjoyed all this hubbub; and I dare say
that they did indeed, being Tŷr the bold and Thor the thunderer, who
had been in Giant Land many times ere this.

Hymir gave scarcely a glance at his son, but he eyed Thor with a frown
of hatred and suspicion, for he knew that this was one of Father Odin's
brave family, though he could not tell which one. However, he thought
best to be civil, now that Thor was actually before him. So with gruff
politeness he invited the two guests to supper.

Now Thor was a valiant fellow at the table as well as in war, as
you remember; and at sight of the good things on the board his eyes
sparkled. Three roast oxen there were upon the giant's table, and Thor
fell to with a will and finished two of them himself! You should have
seen the giant stare.

"Truly, friend, you have a goodly appetite," he said. "You have eaten
all the meat that I have in my larder; and if you dine with us
to-morrow, I must insist that you catch your own dinner of fish. I
cannot undertake to provide food for such an appetite!"

Now this was not hospitable of Hymir, but Thor did not mind. "I like
well to fish, good Hymir," he laughed; "and when you fare forth with
your boat in the morning, I will go with you and see what I can find
for my dinner at the bottom of the sea."

When the morning came, the giant made ready for the fishing, and Thor
rose early to go with him.

"Ho, Hymir," exclaimed Thor, "have you bait enough for us both?"

Hymir answered gruffly, "You must dig your own bait when you go fishing
with me. I have no time to waste on you, sirrah."

Then Thor looked about to see what he could use for bait; and presently
he spied a herd of Hymir's oxen feeding in the meadow. "Aha! just the
thing!" he cried; and seizing the hugest ox of all, he trotted down to
the shore with it under his arm, as easily as you would carry a handful
of clams for bait. When Hymir saw this, he was very angry. He pushed
the boat off from shore and began to row away as fast as he could, so
that Thor might not have a chance to come aboard. But Thor made one
long step and planted himself snugly in the stern of the boat.

"No, no, brother Hymir," he said, laughing. "You invited me to go
fishing, and a-fishing I will go; for I have my bait, and my hope is
high that great luck I shall see this day." So he took an oar and rowed
mightily in the stern, while Hymir the giant rowed mightily at the
prow; and no one ever saw boat skip over the water so fast as this one
did on the day when these two big fellows went fishing together.

Far and fast they rowed, until they came to a spot where Hymir cried,
"Hold! Let us anchor here and fish; this is the place where I have best
fortune."

"And what sort of little fish do you catch here, O Hymir?" asked Thor.

"Whales!" answered the giant proudly. "I fish for nothing smaller than
whales."

"Pooh!" cried Thor. "Who would fish for such small fry! Whales,
indeed; let us row out further, where we can find something really
worth catching," and he began to pull even faster than before.

"Stop! stop!" roared the giant. "You do not know what you are doing.
These are the haunts of the dreadful Midgard serpent, and it is not
safe to fish in these waters."

"Oho! The Midgard serpent!" said Thor, delighted. "That is the very
fish I am after. Let us drop in our lines here."

Thor baited his great hook with the whole head of the ox which he had
brought, and cast his line, big round as a man's arm, over the side
of the boat. Hymir also cast his line, for he did not wish Thor to
think him a coward; but his hand trembled as he waited for a bite,
and he glanced down into the blue depths with eyes rounded as big as
dinner-plates through fear of the horrible creature who lived down
below those waves.

"Look! You have a bite!" cried Thor, so suddenly that Hymir started and
nearly tumbled out of the boat. Hand over hand he pulled in his line,
and lo! he had caught two whales--two great flopping whales--on his one
hook! That was a catch indeed.

Hymir smiled proudly, forgetting his fear as he said, "How is that, my
friend? Let us see you beat this catch in your morning's fishing."

Lo, just at that moment Thor also had a bite--such a bite! The boat
rocked to and fro, and seemed ready to capsize every minute. Then the
waves began to roll high and to be lashed into foam for yards and yards
about the boat, as if some huge creature were struggling hard below the
water.

"I have him!" shouted Thor; "I have the old serpent, the brother of the
Fenris wolf! Pull, pull, monster! But you shall not escape me now!"

Sure enough, the Midgard serpent had Thor's hook fixed in his jaw, and
struggle as he might, there was no freeing himself from the line; for
the harder he pulled the stronger grew Thor. In his Æsir-might Thor
waxed so huge and so forceful that his legs went straight through the
bottom of the boat and his feet stood on the bottom of the sea. With
firm bottom as a brace for his strength, Thor pulled and pulled, and
at last up came the head of the Midgard serpent, up to the side of
the boat, where it thrust out of the water mountain high, dreadful to
behold; his monstrous red eyes were rolling fiercely, his nostrils
spouted fire, and from his terrible sharp teeth dripped poison, that
sizzled as it fell into the sea. Angrily they glared at each other,
Thor and the serpent, while the water streamed into the boat, and the
giant turned pale with fear at the danger threatening him on all sides.

Thor seized his hammer, preparing to smite the creature's head; but
even as he swung Miölnir high for the fatal blow, Hymir cut the
fish-line with his knife, and down into the depths of ocean sank the
Midgard serpent amid a whirlpool of eddies. But the hammer had sped
from Thor's iron fingers. It crushed the serpent's head as he sank
downward to his lair on the sandy bottom; it crushed, but did not kill
him, thanks to the giant's treachery. Terrible was the disturbance it
caused beneath the waves. It burst the rocks and made the caverns
of the ocean shiver into bits. It wrecked the coral groves and tore
loose the draperies of sea-weed. The fishes scurried about in every
direction, and the sea-monsters wildly sought new places to hide
themselves when they found their homes destroyed. The sea itself was
stirred to its lowest depths, and the waves ran trembling into one
another's arms. The earth, too, shrank and shivered. Hymir, cowering
low in the boat, was glad of one thing, which was that the terrible
Midgard serpent had vanished out of sight. And that was the last that
was ever seen of him, though he still lived, wounded and sore from the
shock of Thor's hammer.

Now it was time to return home. Silently and sulkily the giant swam
back to land; Thor, bearing the boat upon his shoulders, filled with
water and weighted as it was with the great whales which Hymir had
caught, waded ashore, and brought his burden to the giant's hall.
Here Hymir met him crossly enough, for he was ashamed of the whole
morning's work, in which Thor had appeared so much more of a hero than
he. Indeed, he was tired of even pretending hospitality towards this
unwelcome guest, and was resolved to be rid of him; but first he would
put Thor to shame.

"You are a strong fellow," he said, "good at the oar and at the
fishing; most wondrously good at the hammer, by which I know that you
are Thor. But there is one thing which you cannot do, I warrant,--you
cannot break this little cup of mine, hard though you may try."

"That I shall see for myself," answered Thor; and he took the cup
in his hand. Now this was a magic cup, and there was but one way of
breaking it, but one thing hard enough to shatter its mightiness.
Thor threw it with all his force against a stone of the flooring;
but instead of breaking the cup, the stone itself was cracked into
splinters. Then Thor grew angry, for the giant and all his servants
were laughing as if this were the greatest joke ever played.

"Ho, ho! Try again, Thor!" cried Hymir, nearly bursting with delight;
for he thought that now he should prove how much mightier he was than
the visitor from Asgard. Thor clutched the cup more firmly and hurled
it against one of the iron pillars of the hall; but like a rubber ball
the magic cup merely bounded back straight into Hymir's hand. At this
second failure the giants were full of merriment and danced about,
making all manner of fun at the expense of Thor. You can fancy how well
Thor the mighty enjoyed this! His brow grew black, and the glance of
his eye was terrible. He knew there was some magic in the trick, but he
knew not how to meet it. Just then he felt the soft touch of a woman's
hand upon his arm, and the voice of Tŷr's mother whispered in his ear,--

"Cast the cup against Hymir's own forehead, which is the hardest
substance in the world." No one except Thor heard the woman say these
words, for all the giant folk were doubled up with mirth over their
famous joke. But Thor dropped upon one knee, and seizing the cup
fiercely, whirled it about his head, then dashed it with all his might
straight at Hymir's forehead. Smash! Crash! What had happened? Thor
looked eagerly to see. There stood the giant, looking surprised and
a little dazed; but his forehead showed not even a scratch, while the
strong cup was shivered into little pieces.

"Well done!" exclaimed Hymir hastily, when he had recovered a little
from his surprise. But he was mortified at Thor's success, and set
about to think up a new task to try his strength. "That was very well,"
he remarked patronizingly; "now you must perform a harder task. Let us
see you carry the mead kettle out of the hall. Do that, my fine fellow,
and I shall say you are strong indeed."

The mead kettle! The very thing Thor had come to get! He glanced at
Tŷr; he shot a look at Tŷr's mother; and both of them caught the
sparkle, which was very like a wink. To himself Thor muttered, "I must
not fail in this! I must not, will not fail!"

"First let me try," cried Tŷr; for he wanted to give Thor time for a
resting-spell. Twice Tŷr the mighty strained at the great kettle, but
he could not so much as stir one leg of it from the floor where it
rested. He tugged and heaved in vain, growing red in the face, till his
mother begged him to give over, for it was quite useless.

Then Thor stepped forth upon the floor. He grasped the rim of the
kettle, and stamped his feet through the stone of the flooring as he
braced himself to lift. One, two, three! Thor straightened himself,
and up swung the giant kettle to his head, while the iron handle
clattered about his feet. It was a mighty burden, and Thor staggered
as he started for the door; but Tŷr was close beside him, and they had
covered long leagues of ground on their way home before the astonished
giants had recovered sufficiently to follow them. When Thor and Tŷr
looked back, however, they saw a vast crowd of horrible giants, some of
them with a hundred heads, swarming out of the caverns in Hymir's land,
howling and prowling upon their track.

"You must stop them, Thor, or they will never let us get away with
their precious kettle,--they take such long strides!" cried Tŷr. So
Thor set down the kettle, and from his pocket drew out Miölnir, his
wondrous hammer. Terribly it flashed in the air as he swung it over his
head; then forth it flew towards Jotunheim; and before it returned to
Thor's hand it had crushed all the heads of those many-headed giants,
Hymir's ugly mother and Hymir himself among them. The only one who
escaped was the good and beautiful mother of Tŷr. And you may be sure
she lived happily ever after in the palace which Hymir and his wicked
old mother had formerly made so wretched a home for her.

Now Tŷr and Thor had the giant kettle which they had gone so far and
had met so many dangers to obtain. They took it to Œgir's sea-palace,
where the banquet was still going on, and where the Æsir were still
waiting patiently for their mead; for time does not go so fast below
the quiet waves as on shore. Now that King Œgir had the great kettle,
he could brew all the mead they needed. So every one thanked Tŷr and
congratulated Thor upon the success of their adventure.

"I was sure that Thor would bring the kettle," said fair Sif, smiling
upon her brave husband.

"What Thor sets out to do, that he always accomplishes," said Father
Odin gravely. And that was praise enough for any one.

THOR'S DUEL

In the days that are past a wonderful race of horses pastured in the
meadows of heaven, steeds more beautiful and more swift than any which
the world knows to-day. There was Hrîmfaxi, the black, sleek horse who
drew the chariot of Night across the sky and scattered the dew from his
foaming bit. There was Glad, behind whose flying heels sped the swift
chariot of Day. His mane was yellow with gold, and from it beamed light
which made the whole world bright. Then there were the two shining
horses of the sun, Arvakur the watchful, and Alsvith the rapid; and
the nine fierce battle-chargers of the nine Valkyries, who bore the
bodies of fallen heroes from the field of fight to the blessedness of
Valhalla. Each of the gods had his own glorious steed, with such pretty
names as Gold-mane and Silver-top, Light-foot and Precious-stone; these
galloped with their masters over clouds and through the blue air,
blowing flame from their nostrils and glinting sparks from their fiery
eyes. The Æsir would have been poor indeed without their faithful
mounts, and few would be the stories to tell in which these noble
creatures do not bear at least a part.

But best of all the horses of heaven was Sleipnir, the eight-legged
steed of Father Odin, who because he was so well supplied with sturdy
feet could gallop faster over land and sea than any horse which ever
lived. Sleipnir was snow-white and beautiful to see, and Odin was very
fond and proud of him, you may be sure. He loved to ride forth upon his
good horse's back to meet whatever adventure might be upon the way, and
sometimes they had wild times together.

One day Odin galloped off from Asgard upon Sleipnir straight towards
Jotunheim and the Land of Giants, for it was long since All-Father had
been to the cold country, and he wished to see how its mountains and
ice-rivers looked. Now as he galloped along a wild road, he met a huge
giant standing beside his giant steed.

"Who goes there?" cried the giant gruffly, blocking the way so that
Odin could not pass. "You with the golden helmet, who are you, who ride
so famously through air and water? For I have been watching you from
this mountain-top. Truly, that is a fine horse which you bestride."

"There is no finer horse in all the world," boasted Odin. "Have you not
heard of Sleipnir, the pride of Asgard? I will match him against any of
your big, clumsy giant horses."

"Ho!" roared the giant angrily, "an excellent horse he is, your little
Sleipnir. But I warrant he is no match for my Gullfaxi here. Come, let
us try a race; and at its end I shall pay you for your insult to our
horses of Jotunheim."

So saying, the giant, whose ugly name was Hrungnir, sprang upon his
horse and spurred straight at Odin in the narrow way. Odin turned and
galloped back towards Asgard with all his might; for not only must he
prove his horse's speed, but he must save himself and Sleipnir from the
anger of the giant, who was one of the fiercest and wickedest of all
his fierce and wicked race.

How the eight slender legs of Sleipnir twinkled through the blue sky!
How his nostrils quivered and shot forth fire and smoke! Like a flash
of lightning he darted across the sky, and the giant horse rumbled and
thumped along close behind like the thunder following the flash.

"Hi, hi!" yelled the giant. "After them, Gullfaxi! And when we have
overtaken the two, we will crush their bones between us!"

"Speed, speed, my Sleipnir!" shouted Odin. "Speed, good horse, or you
will never again feed in the dewy pastures of Asgard with the other
horses. Speed, speed, and bring us safe within the gates!"

Well Sleipnir understood what his master said, and well he knew the
way. Already the rainbow bridge was in sight, with Heimdal the watchman
prepared to let them in. His sharp eyes had spied them afar, and had
recognized the flash of Sleipnir's white body and of Odin's golden
helmet. Gallop and thud! The twelve hoofs were upon the bridge, the
giant horse close behind the other. At last Hrungnir knew where he was,
and into what danger he was rushing. He pulled at the reins and tried
to stop his great beast. But Gullfaxi was tearing along at too terrible
a speed. He could not stop. Heimdal threw open the gates of Asgard, and
in galloped Sleipnir with his precious burden, safe. Close upon them
bolted in Gullfaxi, bearing his giant master, puffing and purple in
the face from hard riding and anger. Cling-clang! Heimdal had shut and
barred the gates, and there was the giant prisoned in the castle of his
enemies.

Now the Æsir were courteous folk, unlike the giants, and they were not
anxious to take advantage of a single enemy thus thrown into their
power. They invited him to enter Valhalla with them, to rest and sup
before the long journey of his return. Thor was not present, so they
filled for the giant the great cups which Thor was wont to drain, for
they were nearest to the giant size. But you remember that Thor was
famous for his power to drink deep. Hrungnir's head was not so steady;
Thor's draught was too much for him. He soon lost his wits, of which he
had but few; and a witless giant is a most dreadful creature. He raged
like a madman, and threatened to pick up Valhalla like a toy house
and carry it home with him to Jotunheim. He said he would pull Asgard
to pieces and slay all the gods except Freia the fair and Sif, the
golden-haired wife of Thor, whom he would carry off like little dolls
for his toy house.

The Æsir knew not what to do, for Thor and his hammer were not there to
protect them, and Asgard seemed in danger with this enemy within its
very walls. Hrungnir called for more and more mead, which Freia alone
dared to bring and set before him. And the more he drank the fiercer
he became. At last the Æsir could bear no longer his insults and his
violence. Besides, they feared that there would be no more mead left
for their banquets if this unwelcome visitor should keep Freia pouring
out for him Thor's mighty goblets. They bade Heimdal blow his horn and
summon Thor; and this Heimdal did in a trice.

Now rumbling and thundering in his chariot of goats came Thor. He
dashed into the hall, hammer in hand, and stared in amazement at the
unwieldy guest whom he found there.

"A giant feasting in Asgard hall!" he roared. "This is a sight which
I never saw before. Who gave the insolent fellow leave to sit in my
place? And why does fair Freia wait upon him as if he were some noble
guest at a feast of the high gods? I will slay him at once!" and he
raised the hammer to keep his word.

Thor's coming had sobered the giant somewhat, for he knew that this was
no enemy to be trifled with. He looked at Thor sulkily and said: "I am
Odin's guest. He invited me to this banquet, and therefore I am under
his protection."

"You shall be sorry that you accepted the invitation," cried Thor,
balancing his hammer and looking very fierce; for Sif had sobbed in his
ear how the giant had threatened to carry her away.

Hrungnir now rose to his feet and faced Thor boldly, for the sound of
Thor's gruff voice had restored his scattered wits. "I am here alone
and without weapons," he said. "You would do ill to slay me now. It
would be little like the noble Thor, of whom we hear tales, to do such
a thing. The world will count you braver if you let me go and meet me
later in single combat, when we shall both be fairly armed."

Thor dropped the hammer to his side. "Your words are true," he said,
for he was a just and honorable fellow.

"I was foolish to leave my shield and stone club at home," went on the
giant. "If I had my arms with me, we would fight at this moment. But I
name you a coward if you slay me now, an unarmed enemy."

"Your words are just," quoth Thor again. "I have never before been
challenged by any foe. I will meet you, Hrungnir, at your Stone City,
midway between heaven and earth. And there we will fight a duel to see
which of us is the better fellow."

Hrungnir departed for Stone City in Jotunheim; and great was the
excitement of the other giants when they heard of the duel which one of
their number was to fight with Thor, the deadliest enemy of their race.

"We must be sure that Hrungnir wins the victory!" they cried. "It will
never do to have Asgard victorious in the first duel that we have
fought with her champion. We will make a second hero to aid Hrungnir."

All the giants set to work with a will. They brought great buckets of
moist clay, and heaping them up into a huge mound, moulded the mass
with their giant hands as a sculptor does his image, until they had
made a man of clay, an immense dummy, nine miles high and three miles
wide. "Now we must make him live; we must put a heart into him!" they
cried. But they could find no heart big enough until they thought of
taking that of a mare, and that fitted nicely. A mare's heart is the
most cowardly one that beats.

Hrungnir's heart was a three-cornered piece of hard stone. His head
also was of stone, and likewise the great shield which he held before
him when he stood outside of Stone City waiting for Thor to come to
the duel. Over his shoulder he carried his club, and that also was of
stone, the kind from which whetstones are made, hard and terrible. By
his side stood the huge clay man, Möckuralfi, and they were a dreadful
sight to see, these two vast bodies whom Thor must encounter.

But at the very first sight of Thor, who came thundering to the place
with swift Thialfi his servant, the timid mare's heart in the man
of clay throbbed with fear; he trembled so that his knees knocked
together, and his nine miles of height rocked unsteadily.

Thialfi ran up to Hrungnir and began to mock him, saying, "You are
careless, giant. I fear you do not know what a mighty enemy has come to
fight you. You hold your shield in front of you; but that will serve
you nothing. Thor has seen this. He has only to go down into the earth
and he can attack you conveniently from beneath your very feet."

At this terrifying news Hrungnir hastened to throw his shield upon
the ground and to stand upon it, so that he might be safe from Thor's
under-stroke. He grasped his heavy club with both hands and waited. He
had not long to wait. There came a blinding flash of lightning and a
peal of crashing thunder. Thor had cast his hammer into space. Hrungnir
raised his club with both hands and hurled it against the hammer which
he saw flying towards him. The two mighty weapons met in the air with
an earsplitting shock. Hard as was the stone of the giant's club, it
was like glass against the power of Miölnir. The club was dashed into
pieces; some fragments fell upon the earth; and these, they say, are
the rocks from which whetstones are made unto this day. They are so
hard that men use them to sharpen knives and axes and scythes. One
splinter of the hard stone struck Thor himself in the forehead, with
so fierce a blow that he fell forward upon the ground, and Thialfi
feared that he was killed. But Miölnir, not even stopped in its course
by meeting the giant's club, sped straight to Hrungnir and crushed his
stony skull, so that he fell forward over Thor, and his foot lay on the
fallen hero's neck. And that was the end of the giant whose head and
heart were of stone.

Meanwhile Thialfi the swift had fought with the man of clay, and had
found little trouble in toppling him to earth. For the mare's cowardly
heart in his great body gave him little strength to meet Thor's
faithful servant; and the trembling limbs of Möckuralfi soon yielded to
Thialfi's hearty blows. He fell like an unsteady tower of blocks, and
his brittle bulk shivered into a thousand fragments.

Thialfi ran to his master and tried to raise him. The giant's great
foot still rested upon his neck, and all Thialfi's strength could not
move it away. Swift as the wind he ran for the other Æsir, and when
they heard that great Thor, their champion, had fallen and seemed
like one dead, they came rushing to the spot in horror and confusion.
Together they all attempted to raise Hrungnir's foot from Thor's neck
that they might see whether their hero lived or no. But all their
efforts were in vain. The foot was not to be lifted by Æsir-might.

At this moment a second hero appeared upon the scene. It was Magni, the
son of Thor himself; Magni, who was but three days old, yet already
in his babyhood he was almost as big as a giant and had nearly the
strength of his father. This wonderful youngster came running to
the place where his father lay surrounded by a group of sad-faced
and despairing gods. When Magni saw what the matter was, he seized
Hrungnir's enormous foot in both his hands, heaved his broad young
shoulders, and in a moment Thor's neck was free of the weight which was
crushing it.

Best of all, it proved that Thor was not dead, only stunned by the blow
of the giant's club and by his fall. He stirred, sat up painfully, and
looked around him at the group of eager friends. "Who lifted the weight
from my neck?" he asked.

"It was I, father," answered Magni modestly. Thor clasped him in his
arms and hugged him tight, beaming with pride and gratitude.

"Truly, you are a fine child!" he cried; "one to make glad your
father's heart. Now as a reward for your first great deed you shall
have a gift from me. The swift horse of Hrungnir shall be yours,--that
same Gullfaxi who was the beginning of all this trouble. You shall ride
Gullfaxi; only a giant steed is strong enough to bear the weight of
such an infant prodigy as you, my Magni."

Now this word did not wholly please Father Odin, for he thought that
a horse so excellent ought to belong to him. He took Thor aside and
argued that but for him there would have been no duel, no horse to win.
Thor answered simply,--

"True, Father Odin, you began this trouble. But I have fought your
battle, destroyed your enemy, and suffered great pain for you. Surely,
I have won the horse fairly and may give it to whom I choose. My son,
who has saved me, deserves a horse as good as any. Yet, as you have
proved, even Gullfaxi is scarce a match for your Sleipnir. Verily,
Father Odin, you should be content with the best." Odin said no more.

Now Thor went home to his cloud-palace in Thrudvang. And there he
was healed of all his hurts except that which the splinter of stone
had made in his forehead. For the stone was imbedded so fast that it
could not be taken out, and Thor suffered sorely therefor. Sif, his
yellow-haired wife, was in despair, knowing not what to do. At last she
bethought her of the wise woman, Groa, who had skill in all manner of
herbs and witch charms. Sif sent for Groa, who lived all alone and sad
because her husband Örvandil had disappeared, she knew not whither.
Groa came to Thor and, standing beside his bed while he slept, sang
strange songs and gently waved her hands over him. Immediately the
stone in his forehead began to loosen, and Thor opened his eyes.

"The stone is loosening, the stone is coming out!" he cried. "How can I
reward you, gentle dame? Prithee, what is your name?"

"My name is Groa," answered the woman, weeping, "wife of Örvandil who
is lost."

"Now, then, I can reward you, kind Groa!" cried Thor, "for I can
bring you tidings of your husband. I met him in the cold country,
in Jotunheim, the Land of Giants, which you know I sometimes visit
for a bit of good hunting. It was by Elivâgar's icy river that I met
Örvandil, and there was no way for him to cross. So I put him in an
iron basket and myself bore him over the flood. Br-r-r! But that is a
cold land! His feet stuck out through the meshes of the basket, and
when we reached the other side one of his toes was frozen stiff. So
I broke it off and tossed it up into the sky that it might become a
star. To prove that what I relate is true, Groa, there is the new star
shining over us at this very moment. Look! From this day it shall be
known to men as Örvandil's Toe. Do not you weep any longer. After all,
the loss of a toe is a little thing; and I promise that your husband
shall soon return to you, safe and sound, but for that small token of
his wanderings in the land where visitors are not welcome."

At these joyful tidings poor Groa was so overcome that she fainted.
And that put an end to the charm which she was weaving to loosen the
stone from Thor's forehead. The stone was not yet wholly free, and
thenceforth it was in vain to attempt its removal; Thor must always
wear the splinter in his forehead. Groa could never forgive herself for
the carelessness which had thus made her skill vain to help one to whom
she had reason to be so grateful.

Now because of the bit of whetstone in Thor's forehead, folk of olden
times were very careful how they used a whetstone; and especially they
knew that they must not throw or drop one on the floor. For when they
did so, the splinter in Thor's forehead was jarred, and the good Asa
suffered great pain.

IN THE GIANT'S HOUSE

Although Thor had slain Thiasse the giant builder, Thrym the thief,
Hrungnir, and Hymir, and had rid the world of whole families of
wicked giants, there remained many others in Jotunheim to do their
evil deeds and to plot mischief against both gods and men; and of
these Geirröd was the fiercest and the wickedest. He and his two ugly
daughters--Gialp of the red eyes, and Greip of the black teeth--lived
in a large palace among the mountains, where Geirröd had his treasures
of iron and copper, silver and gold; for, since the death of Thrym,
Geirröd was the Lord of the Mines, and all the riches that came out of
the earth-caverns belonged to him.

Thrym had been Geirröd's friend, and the tale of Thrym's death through
the might of Thor and his hammer had made Geirröd very sad and angry.
"If I could but catch Thor, now, without his weapons," he said to his
daughters, "what a lesson I would give him! How I would punish him for
his deeds against us giants!"

"Oh, what would you do, father?" cried Gialp, twinkling her cruel red
eyes, and working her claw fingers as if she would like to fasten them
in Thor's golden beard.

"Oh, what would you do, father?" cried Greip, smacking her lips and
grinding her black teeth as if she would like a bite out of Thor's
stout arm.

"Do to him!" growled Geirröd fiercely. "Do to him! Gr-r-r! I would chew
him all up! I would break his bones into little bits! I would smash him
into jelly!"

"Oh, good, good! Do it, father, and then give him to us to play with,"
cried Gialp and Greip, dancing up and down till the hills trembled and
all the frightened sheep ran home to their folds thinking that there
must be an earthquake; for Gialp was as tall as a pine-tree and many
times as thick, while Greip, her little sister, was as large around as
a haystack and high as a flagstaff. They both hoped some day to be as
huge as their father, whose legs were so long that he could step across
the river valleys from one hilltop to another, just as we human folk
cross a brook on stepping-stones; and his arms were so stout that he
could lift a yoke of oxen in each fist, as if they were red-painted
toys.

Geirröd shook his head at his two playful daughters and sighed. "We
must catch Master Thor first, my girls, before we do these fine things
to him. We must catch him without his mighty hammer, that never fails
him, and without his belt, that doubles his strength whenever he puts
it on, or even I cannot chew and break and smash him as he deserves;
for with these his weapons he is the mightiest creature in the whole
world, and I would rather meddle with thunder and lightning than with
him. Let us wait, children."

Then Gialp and Greip pouted and sulked like two great babies who cannot
have the new plaything which they want; and very ugly they were to see,
with tears as big as oranges rolling down their cheeks.

Sooner than they expected they came very near to having their heart's
desire fulfilled. And if it had happened as they wished, and if Asgard
had lost its goodliest hero, its strongest defense, that would have
been red Loki's fault, all Loki's evil planning; for you are now to
hear of the wickedest thing that up to this time Loki had ever done.
As you know, it was Loki who was Thor's bitterest enemy; and for many
months he had been awaiting the chance to repay the Thunder Lord for
the dole which Thor had brought upon him at the time of the dwarf's
gifts to Asgard.

This is how it came about: Loki had long remembered the fun of skimming
as a great bird in Freia's falcon feathers. He had longed to borrow
the wings once again and to fly away over the round world to see what
he could see; for he thought that so he could learn many secrets which
he was not meant to know, and plan wonderful mischief without being
found out. But Freia would not again loan her feather dress to Loki.
She owed him a grudge for naming her as Thrym's bride; and besides,
she remembered his treatment of Idun, and she did not trust his oily
tongue and fine promises. So Loki saw no way but to borrow the feathers
without leave; and this he did one day when Freia was gone to ride in
her chariot drawn by white cats. Loki put on the feather dress, as he
had done twice before,--once when he went to Jotunheim to bring back
stolen Idun and her magic apples, once when he went to find out about
Thor's hammer.

Away he flew from Asgard as birdlike as you please, chuckling to
himself with wicked thoughts. It did not make any particular difference
to him where he went. It was such fun to flap and fly, skim and wheel,
looking and feeling for all the world like a big brown falcon. He
swooped low, thinking, "I wonder what Freia would say to see me now!
Whee-e-e! How angry she would be!" Just then he spied the high wall of
a palace on the mountains.

"Oho!" said Loki. "I never saw that place before. It may be a giant's
dwelling. I think this must be Jotunheim, from the bigness of things. I
must just peep to see." Loki was the most inquisitive of creatures, as
wily minded folk are apt to be.

Loki the falcon alighted and hopped to the wall, then giving a flap of
his wings he flew up and up to the window ledge, where he perched and
peered into the hall. And there within he saw the giant Geirröd with
his daughters eating their dinner. They looked so ugly and so greedy,
as they sat there gobbling their food in giant mouthfuls, that Loki on
the window-sill could not help snickering to himself. Now at that sound
Geirröd looked up and saw the big brown bird peeping in at the window.

"Heigha!" cried the giant to one of his servants. "Go you and fetch me
the big brown bird up yonder in the window."

Then the servant ran to the wall and tried to climb up to get at Loki;
but the window was so high that he could not reach. He jumped and
slipped, scrambled and slipped, again and again, while Loki sat just
above his clutching fingers, and chuckled so that he nearly fell from
his perch. "Te-he! te-he!" chattered Loki in the falcon tongue. It was
such fun to see the fellow grow black in the face with trying to reach
him that Loki thought he would wait until the giant's fingers almost
touched him, before flying away.

But Loki waited too long. At last, with a quick spring, the giant
gained a hold upon the window ledge, and Loki was within reach. When
Loki flapped his wings to fly, he found that his feet were tangled
in the vine that grew upon the wall. He struggled and twisted with
all his might,--but in vain. There he was, caught fast. Then the
servant grasped him by the legs, and so brought him to Geirröd, where
he sat at table. Now Loki in his feather dress looked exactly like a
falcon--except for his eyes. There was no hiding the wise and crafty
look of Loki's eyes. As soon as Geirröd looked at him, he suspected
that this was no ordinary bird.

"You are no falcon, you!" he cried. "You are spying about my palace in
disguise. Speak, and tell me who you are." Loki was afraid to tell,
because he knew the giants were angry with him for his part in Thrym's
death,--small though his part had really been in that great deed. So he
kept his beak closed tight, and refused to speak. The giant stormed and
raged and threatened to kill him; but still Loki was silent.

Then Geirröd locked the falcon up in a chest for three long months
without food or water, to see how that would suit his bird-ship.
You can imagine how hungry and thirsty Loki was at the end of that
time,--ready to tell anything he knew, and more also, for the sake of a
crumb of bread and a drop of water.

So then Geirröd called through the keyhole, "Well, Sir Falcon, now will
you tell me who you are?" And this time Loki piped feebly, "I am Loki
of Asgard; give me something to eat!"

"Oho!" quoth the giant fiercely. "You are that Loki who went with
Thor to kill my brother Thrym! Oho! Well, you shall die for that, my
feathered friend!"

"No, no!" screamed Loki. "Thor is no friend of mine. I love the giants
far better! One of them is my wife!"--which was indeed true, as were
few of Loki's words.

"Then if Thor is no friend of yours, to save your life will you bring
him into my power?" asked Geirröd.

Loki's eyes gleamed wickedly among the feathers. Here all at once was
his chance to be free, and to have his revenge upon Thor, his worst
enemy. "Ay, that I will!" he cried eagerly. "I will bring Thor into
your power."

So Geirröd made him give a solemn promise to do that wrong; and upon
this he loosed Loki from the chest and gave him food. Then they formed
the wicked plan together, while Gialp and Greip, the giant's ugly
daughters, listened and smacked their lips.

Loki was to persuade Thor to come with him to Geirrödsgard. More; he
must come without his mighty hammer, and without the iron gloves of
power, and without the belt of strength; for so only could the giant
have Thor at his mercy.

After their wicked plans were made, Loki bade a friendly farewell to
Geirröd and his daughters and flew back to Asgard as quickly as he
could. You may be sure he had a sound scolding from Freia for stealing
her feather dress and for keeping it so long. But he told such a
pitiful story of being kept prisoner by a cruel giant, and he looked in
truth so pale and thin from his long fast, that the gods were fain to
pity him and to believe his story, in spite of the many times that he
had deceived them. Indeed, most of his tale was true, but he told only
half of the truth; for he spoke no word of his promise to the giant.
This he kept hidden in his breast.

Now, one day not long after this, Loki invited Thor to go on a journey
with him to visit a new friend who, he said, was anxious to know the
Thunder Lord. Loki was so pleasant in his manner and seemed so frank in
his speech that Thor, whose heart was simple and unsuspicious, never
dreamed of any wrong, not even when Loki added,--"And by the bye, my
Thor, you must leave behind your hammer, your belt, and your gloves;
for it would show little courtesy to wear such weapons in the home of a
new friend."

Thor carelessly agreed; for he was pleased with the idea of a new
adventure, and with the thought of making a new friend. Besides,
on their last journey together, Loki had behaved so well that Thor
believed him to have changed his evil ways and to have become his
friend. So together they set off in Thor's goat chariot, without
weapons of any kind except those which Loki secretly carried. Loki
chuckled as they rattled over the clouds, and if Thor had seen the look
in his eyes, he would have turned the chariot back to Asgard and to
safety, where he had left gentle Sif his wife. But Thor did not notice,
and so they rumbled on.

Soon they came to the gate of Giant Land. Thor thought this strange,
for he knew they were like to find few friends of his dwelling among
the Big Folk. For the first time he began to suspect Loki of some
treacherous scheme. However, he said nothing, and pretended to be as
gay and careless as before. But he thought of a plan to find out the
truth.

Close by the entrance was the cave of Grid, a good giantess, who alone
of all her race was a friend of Thor and of the folk in Asgard.

"I will alight here for a moment, Loki," said Thor carelessly. "I long
for a draught of water. Hold you the goats tightly by the reins until I
return."

So he went into the cave and got his draught of water. But while he was
drinking, he questioned good mother Grid to some purpose.

"Who is this friend Geirröd whom I go to see?" he asked her.

"Geirröd your friend! You go to see Geirröd!" she exclaimed. "He is the
wickedest giant of us all, and no friend to you. Why do you go, dear
Thor?"

"H'm!" muttered Thor. "Red Loki's mischief again!" He told her of the
visit that Loki had proposed, and how he had left at home the belt, the
gloves, and the hammer which made him stronger than any giant. Then
Grid was frightened.

"Go not, go not, Thor!" she begged. "Geirröd will kill you, and those
ugly girls, Gialp and Greip, will have the pleasure of crunching your
bones. Oh, I know them well, the hussies!"

But Thor declared that he would go, whether or no. "I have promised
Loki that I will go," he said, "and go I will; for I always keep my
word."

"Then you shall have three little gifts of me," quoth she. "Here is my
belt of power--for I also have one like your own." And she buckled
about his waist a great belt, at whose touch he felt his strength
redoubled. "This is my iron glove," she said, as she put one on his
mighty hand, "and with it, as with your own, you can handle lightning
and touch unharmed the hottest of red-hot metal. And here, last of
all," she added, "is Gridarvöll, my good staff, which you may find
useful. Take them, all three; and may Sif see you safe at home again by
their aid."

Thor thanked her and went out once more to join Loki, who never
suspected what had happened in the cave. For the belt and the glove
were hidden under Thor's cloak. And as for the staff, it was quite
ordinary looking, as if Thor might have picked it up anywhere along the
road.

On they journeyed until they came to the river Vimer, the greatest of
all rivers, which roared and tossed in a terrible way between them and
the shore which they wanted to reach. It seemed impossible to cross.
But Thor drew his belt a little tighter, and planting Grid's staff
firmly on the bottom, stepped out into the stream. Loki clung behind to
his cloak, frightened out of his wits. But Thor waded on bravely, his
strength doubled by Grid's belt, and his steps supported by her magic
staff. Higher and higher the waves washed over his knees, his waist,
his shoulders, as if they were fierce to drown him. And Thor said,--

"Ho there, river Vimer! Do not grow any larger, I pray. It is of no
use. The more you crowd upon me, the mightier I grow with my belt and
my staff!"

But lo! as he nearly reached the other side, Thor spied some one hiding
close down by the bank of the river. It was Gialp of the red eyes, the
big elder daughter of Geirröd. She was splashing the water upon Thor,
making the great waves that rolled up and threatened to drown him.

"Oho!" cried he. "So it is you who are making the river rise, big
little girl. We must see to that;" and seizing a huge boulder, he
hurled it at her. It hit her with a thud, for Thor's aim never missed.
Giving a scream as loud as a steam-whistle, Gialp limped home as best
she could to tell her father, and to prepare a warm reception for the
stranger who bore Loki at his back.

When Thor had pulled himself out of the river by some bushes, he soon
came to the palace which Loki had first sighted in his falcon dress.
And there he found everything most courteously made ready for him. He
and Loki were received like dear old friends, with shouts of rejoicing
and ringing of bells. Geirröd himself came out to meet them, and would
have embraced his new friend Thor; but the Thunder Lord merely seized
him by the hand and gave him so hearty a squeeze with the iron glove
that the giant howled with pain. Yet he could say nothing, for Thor
looked pleased and gentle. And Geirröd said to himself, "Ho, ho, my
fine little Thor! I will soon pay you for that handshake, and for many
things beside."

All this time Gialp and Greip did not appear, and Loki also had taken
himself away, to be out of danger when the hour of Thor's death should
come. For he feared that dreadful things might happen before Thor died;
and he did not want to be remembered by the big fist of the companion
whom he had betrayed. Loki, having kept his promise to the giant, was
even now far on the road back to Asgard, where he meant with a sad
face to tell the gods that Thor had been slain by a horrible giant; but
never to tell them how.

So Thor was all alone when the servants led him to the chamber which
Geirröd had made ready for his dear friend. It was a wonderfully fine
chamber, to be sure; but the strange thing about it was that among the
furnishings there was but one chair, a giant chair, with a drapery all
about the legs. Now Thor was very weary with his long journey, and he
sat down in the chair to rest. Then, wonderful to tell!--if elevators
had been invented in those days, he might have thought he was in one.
For instantly the seat of the chair shot up towards the roof, and
against this he was in danger of being crushed as Geirröd had longed to
see him. But quick as a flash Thor raised the staff which good old Grid
had given him, and pushed it against the rafters with all his might
to stop his upward journey. It was a tremendous push that he gave.
Something cracked; something crashed; the chair fell to the ground as
Thor leaped off the seat, and there were two terrible screams.

Then Thor found--what do you think? Why, that Gialp and Greip, the
giant's daughters, had hidden under the seat of the chair, and had
lifted it up on their backs to crush Thor against the roof! But instead
of that, it was Thor who had broken their backs, so that they lay dead
upon the floor like limp rag dolls.

Now this little exercise had only given Thor an excellent appetite for
supper. So that when word came bidding him to the banquet, he was very
glad.

"First," said big Geirröd, grinning horribly, for he did not know what
had happened to his daughters,--"first we will see some games, friend
Thor."

Then Thor came into the hall, where fires were burning in great chimney
places along the walls. "It is here that we play our little games,"
cried Geirröd. And on the moment, seizing a pair of tongs, he snatched
a red-hot wedge of iron from one of the fires and hurled it straight at
Thor's head. But Thor was quicker than he. Swift as a flash he caught
the flying spark in his iron glove, and calling forth all the might
of Grid's belt, he cast the wedge back at the giant. Geirröd dodged
behind an iron pillar, but it was in vain. Thor's might was such as no
iron could meet. Like a bolt of lightning the wedge passed through the
pillar, through Geirröd himself, through the thick wall of the palace,
and buried itself deep in the ground, where it lodges to this day,
unless some one has dug it up to sell for old iron.

So perished Geirröd and his children, one of the wickedest families
of giants that ever lived in Jotunheim. And so Thor escaped from the
snares of Loki, who had never done deed worse than this.

When Thor returned home to Asgard, where from Loki's lying tale he
found all the gods mourning him as dead, you can fancy what a joyful
reception he had. But for Loki, the false-hearted, false-tongued
traitor to them all, there was only hatred. He no longer had any
friends among the good folk. The wicked giants and the monsters of
Utgard were now his only friends, for he had grown to be like them, and
even these did not trust him overmuch.

BALDER AND THE MISTLETOE

Loki had given up trying to revenge himself upon Thor. The Thunder
Lord seemed proof against his tricks. And indeed nowadays Loki hated
him no more than he did the other gods. He hated some because they
always frowned at him; he hated others because they only laughed and
jeered. Some he hated for their distrust and some for their fear. But
he hated them all because they were happy and good and mighty, while he
was wretched, bad, and of little might. Yet it was all his own fault
that this was so. He might have been an equal with the best of them,
if he had not chosen to set himself against everything that was good.
He had made them all his enemies, and the more he did to injure them,
the more he hated them,--which is always the way with evil-doers. Loki
longed to see them all unhappy. He slunk about in Asgard with a glum
face and wrinkled forehead. He dared not meet the eyes of any one, lest
they should read his heart. For he was plotting evil, the greatest
of evils, which should bring sorrow to all his enemies at once and
turn Asgard into a land of mourning. The Æsir did not guess the whole
truth, yet they felt the bitterness of the thoughts which Loki bore;
and whenever in the dark he passed unseen, the gods shuddered as if a
breath of evil had blown upon them, and even the flowers drooped before
his steps.

Now at this time Balder the beautiful had a strange dream. He dreamed
that a cloud came before the sun, and all Asgard was dark. He waited
for the cloud to drift away, and for the sun to smile again. But no;
the sun was gone forever, he thought; and Balder awoke feeling very
sad. The next night Balder had another dream. This time he dreamed that
it was still dark as before; the flowers were withered and the gods
were growing old; even Idun's magic apples could not make them young
again. And all were weeping and wringing their hands as though some
dreadful thing had happened. Balder awoke feeling strangely frightened,
yet he said no word to Nanna his wife, for he did not want to trouble
her.

When it came night again Balder slept and dreamed a third dream, a
still more terrible one than the other two had been. He thought that in
the dark, lonely world there was nothing but a sad voice, which cried,
"The sun is gone! The spring is gone! Joy is gone! For Balder the
beautiful is dead, dead, dead!"

This time Balder awoke with a cry, and Nanna asked him what was
the matter. So he had to tell her of his dream, and he was sadly
frightened; for in those days dreams were often sent to folk as
messages, and what the gods dreamed usually came true. Nanna ran
sobbing to Queen Frigg, who was Balder's mother, and told her all the
dreadful dream, asking what could be done to prevent it from coming
true.

Now Balder was Queen Frigg's dearest son. Thor was older and stronger,
and more famous for his great deeds; but Frigg loved far better
gold-haired Balder. And indeed he was the best-beloved of all the
Æsir; for he was gentle, fair, and wise, and wherever he went folk
grew happy and light-hearted at the very sight of him, just as we do
when we first catch a glimpse of spring peeping over the hilltop into
Winterland. So when Frigg heard of Balder's woeful dream, she was
frightened almost out of her wits.

"He must not die! He shall not die!" she cried. "He is so dear to all
the world, how could there be anything which would hurt him?"

And then a wonderful thought came to Frigg. "I will travel over the
world and make all things promise not to injure my boy," she said.
"Nothing shall pass my notice. I will get the word of everything."

So first she went to the gods themselves, gathered on Ida Plain for
their morning exercise; and telling them of Balder's dream, she begged
them to give the promise. Oh, what a shout arose when they heard her
words!

"Hurt Balder!--our Balder! Not for the world, we promise! The dream
is wrong,--there is nothing so cruel as to wish harm to Balder the
beautiful!" they cried. But deep in their hearts they felt a secret
fear which would linger until they should hear that all things had
given their promise. What if harm were indeed to come to Balder! The
thought was too dreadful.

Then Frigg went to see all the beasts who live in field or forest or
rocky den. Willingly they gave their promise never to harm hair of
gentle Balder. "For he is ever kind to us," they said, "and we love him
as if he were one of ourselves. Not with claws or teeth or hoofs or
horns will any beast hurt Balder."

Next Frigg spoke to the birds and fishes, reptiles and insects. And
all--even the venomous serpents--cried that Balder was their friend,
and that they would never do aught to hurt his dear body. "Not with
beak or talon, bite or sting or poison fang, will one of us hurt
Balder," they promised.

After doing this, the anxious mother traveled over the whole round
world, step by step; and from all the things that are she got the
same ready promise never to harm Balder the beautiful. All the trees
and plants promised; all the stones and metals; earth, air, fire, and
water; sun, snow, wind, and rain, and all diseases that men know,--each
gave to Frigg the word of promise which she wanted. So at last,
footsore and weary, she came back to Asgard with the joyful news that
Balder must be safe, for that there was nothing in the world but had
promised to be his harmless friend.

Then there was rejoicing in Asgard, as if the gods had won one of their
great victories over the giants. The noble Æsir and the heroes who had
died in battle upon the earth, and who had come to Valhalla to live
happily ever after, gathered on Ida Plain to celebrate the love of all
nature for Balder.

There they invented a famous game, which was to prove how safe he was
from the bite of death. They stationed Balder in the midst of them, his
face glowing like the sun with the bright light which ever shone from
him. And as he stood there all unarmed and smiling, by turns they tried
all sorts of weapons against him; they made as if to beat him with
sticks, they stoned him with stones, they shot at him with arrows and
hurled mighty spears straight at his heart.

It was a merry game, and a shout of laughter went up as each stone
fell harmless at Balder's feet, each stick broke before it touched
his shoulders, each arrow overshot his head, and each spear turned
aside. For neither stone nor wood nor flinty arrow-point nor barb of
iron would break the promise which each had given. Balder was safe
with them, just as if he were bewitched. He remained unhurt among the
missiles which whizzed about his head, and which piled up in a great
heap around the charmed spot whereon he stood.

Now among the crowd that watched these games with such enthusiasm,
there was one face that did not smile, one voice that did not rasp
itself hoarse with cheering. Loki saw how every one and every thing
loved Balder, and he was jealous. He was the only creature in all the
world that hated Balder and wished for his death. Yet Balder had never
done harm to him. But the wicked plan that Loki had been cherishing
was almost ripe, and in this poison fruit was the seed of the greatest
sorrow that Asgard had ever known.

[Illustration: EACH ARROW OVERSHOT HIS HEAD]

While the others were enjoying their game of love, Loki stole away
unperceived from Ida Plain, and with a wig of gray hair, a long
gown, and a staff, disguised himself as an old woman. Then he hobbled
down Asgard streets till he came to the palace of Queen Frigg, the
mother of Balder.

"Good-day, my lady," quoth the old woman, in a cracked voice. "What is
that noisy crowd doing yonder in the green meadow? I am so deafened by
their shouts that I can hardly hear myself think."

"Who are you, good mother, that you have not heard?" said Queen Frigg
in surprise. "They are shooting at my son Balder. They are proving the
word which all things have given me,--the promise not to injure my dear
son. And that promise will be kept."

The old crone pretended to be full of wonder. "So, now!" she cried.
"Do you mean to say that _every single thing_ in the whole world has
promised not to hurt your son? I can scarce believe it; though, to be
sure, he is as fine a fellow as I ever saw." Of course this flattery
pleased Frigg.

"You say true, mother," she answered proudly, "he is a noble son. Yes,
everything has promised,--that is, everything except one tiny little
plant that is not worth mentioning."

The old woman's eyes twinkled wickedly. "And what is that foolish
little plant, my dear?" she asked coaxingly.

"It is the mistletoe that grows in the meadow west of Valhalla. It was
too young to promise, and too harmless to bother with," answered Frigg
carelessly.

After this her questioner hobbled painfully away. But as soon as she
was out of sight from the Queen's palace, she picked up the skirts of
her gown and ran as fast as she could to the meadow west of Valhalla.
And there sure enough, as Frigg had said, was a tiny sprig of mistletoe
growing on a gnarled oak-tree. The false Loki took out a knife which
she carried in some hidden pocket and cut off the mistletoe very
carefully. Then she trimmed and shaped it so that it was like a little
green arrow, pointed at one end, but very slender.

"Ho, ho!" chuckled the old woman. "So you are the only thing in all the
world that is too young to make a promise, my little mistletoe. Well,
young as you are, you must go on an errand for me to-day. And maybe
you shall bear a message of my love to Balder the beautiful."

Then she hobbled back to Ida Plain, where the merry game was still
going on around Balder. Loki quietly passed unnoticed through the
crowd, and came close to the elbow of a big dark fellow who was
standing lonely outside the circle of weapon-throwers. He seemed sad
and forgotten, and he hung his head in a pitiful way. It was Höd, the
blind brother of Balder.

The old woman touched his arm. "Why do you not join the game with the
others?" she asked, in her cracked voice. "Are you the only one to do
your brother no honor? Surely, you are big and strong enough to toss a
spear with the best of them yonder."

Höd touched his sightless eyes madly. "I am blind," he said. "Strength
I have, greater than belongs to most of the Æsir. But I cannot see to
aim a weapon. Besides, I have no spear to test upon him. Yet how gladly
would I do honor to dear Balder!" and he sighed deeply.

"It were a pity if I could not find you at least a little stick to
throw," said Loki sympathetically. "I am only a poor old woman, and of
course I have no weapon. But ah,--here is a green twig which you can
use as an arrow, and I will guide your arm, poor fellow."

Höd's dark face lighted up, for he was eager to take his turn in the
game. So he thanked her, and grasped eagerly the little arrow which she
put into his hand. Loki held him by the arm, and together they stepped
into the circle which surrounded Balder. And when it was Höd's turn to
throw his weapon, the old woman stood at his elbow and guided his big
arm as it hurled the twig of mistletoe towards where Balder stood.

Oh, the sad thing that befell! Straight through the air flew the little
arrow, straight as magic and Loki's arm could direct it. Straight to
Balder's heart it sped, piercing through jerkin and shirt and all, to
give its bitter message of "Loki's love," as he had said. With a cry
Balder fell forward on the grass. And that was the end of sunshine and
spring and joy in Asgard, for the dream had come true, and Balder the
beautiful was dead.

When the Æsir saw what had happened, there was a great shout of fear
and horror, and they rushed upon Höd, who had thrown the fatal arrow.

"What is it? What have I done?" asked the poor blind brother, trembling
at the tumult which had followed his shot.

"You have slain Balder!" cried the Æsir. "Wretched Höd, how could you
do it?"

"It was the old woman--the evil old woman, who stood at my elbow and
gave me a little twig to throw," gasped Höd. "She must be a witch."

Then the Æsir scattered over Ida Plain to look for the old woman who
had done the evil deed; but she had mysteriously disappeared.

"It must be Loki," said wise Heimdal. "It is Loki's last and vilest
trick."

"Oh, my Balder, my beautiful Balder!" wailed Queen Frigg, throwing
herself on the body of her son. "If I had only made the mistletoe give
me the promise, you would have been saved. It was I who told Loki of
the mistletoe,--so it is I who have killed you. Oh, my son, my son!"

But Father Odin was speechless with grief. His sorrow was greater than
that of all the others, for he best understood the dreadful misfortune
which had befallen Asgard. Already a cloud had come before the sun, so
that it would never be bright day again. Already the flowers had begun
to fade and the birds had ceased to sing. And already the Æsir had
begun to grow old and joyless,--all because the little mistletoe had
been too young to give a promise to Queen Frigg.

"Balder the beautiful is dead!" the cry went echoing through all the
world, and everything that was sorrowed at the sound of the Æsir's
weeping.

Balder's brothers lifted up his beautiful body upon their great war
shields and bore him on their shoulders down to the seashore. For, as
was the custom in those days, they were going to send him to Hela, the
Queen of Death, with all the things he best had loved in Asgard. And
these were,--after Nanna his wife,--his beautiful horse, and his ship
Hringhorni. So that they would place Balder's body upon the ship with
his horse beside him, and set fire to this wonderful funeral pile. For
by fire was the quickest passage to Hela's kingdom.

But when they reached the shore, they found that all the strength of
all the Æsir was unable to move Hringhorni, Balder's ship, into the
water. For it was the largest ship in the world, and it was stranded
far up the beach.

"Even the giants bore no ill-will to Balder," said Father Odin. "I
heard the thunder of their grief but now shaking the hills. Let us for
this once bury our hatred of that race and send to Jotunheim for help
to move the ship."

So they sent a messenger to the giantess Hyrrockin, the hugest of all
the Frost People. She was weeping for Balder when the message came.

"I will go, for Balder's sake," she said. Soon she came riding fast
upon a giant wolf, with a serpent for the bridle; and mighty she was,
with the strength of forty Æsir. She dismounted from her wolf-steed,
and tossed the wriggling reins to one of the men-heroes who had
followed Balder and the Æsir from Valhalla. But he could not hold the
beast, and it took four heroes to keep him quiet, which they could only
do by throwing him upon the ground and sitting upon him in a row. And
this mortified them greatly.

Then Hyrrockin the giantess strode up to the great ship and seized
it by the prow. Easily she gave a little pull and presto! it leaped
forward on its rollers with such force that sparks flew from the flint
stones underneath and the whole earth trembled. The boat shot into the
waves and out toward open sea so swiftly that the Æsir were likely to
have lost it entirely, had not Hyrrockin waded out up to her waist and
caught it by the stern just in time.

Thor was angry at her clumsiness, and raised his hammer to punish her.
But the other Æsir held his arm.

"She cannot help being so strong," they whispered. "She meant to do
well. She did not realize how hard she was pulling. This is no time for
anger, brother Thor." So Thor spared her life, as indeed he ought, for
her kindness.

Then Balder's body was borne out to the ship and laid upon a pile of
beautiful silks, and furs, and cloth-of-gold, and woven sunbeams which
the dwarfs had wrought. So that his funeral pyre was more grand than
anything which had ever been seen. But when Nanna, Balder's gentle
wife, saw them ready to kindle the flames under this gorgeous bed, she
could bear her grief no longer. Her loving heart broke, and they laid
her beside him, that they might comfort each other on their journey
to Hela. Thor touched the pile gently with his hammer that makes
the lightning, and the flames burst forth, lighting up the faces of
Balder and Nanna with a glory. Then they cast upon the fire Balder's
war-horse, to serve his master in the dark country to which he was
about to go. The horse was decked with a harness all of gold, with
jewels studding the bridle and headstall. Last of all Odin laid upon
the pyre his gift to Balder, Draupnir, the precious ring of gold which
the dwarf had made, from which every ninth night there dropped eight
other rings as large and brightly golden.

"Take this with you, dear son, to Hela's palace," said Odin. "And do
not forget the friends you leave behind in the now lonely halls of
Asgard."

Then Hyrrockin pushed the great boat out to sea, with its bonfire of
precious things. And on the beach stood all the Æsir watching it out
of sight, all the Æsir and many besides. For there came to Balder's
funeral great crowds of little dwarfs and multitudes of huge frost
giants, all mourning for Balder the beautiful. For this one time
they were all friends together, forgetting their quarrels of so many
centuries. All of them loved Balder, and were united to do him honor.

The great ship moved slowly out to sea, sending up a red fire to color
all the heavens. At last it slid below the horizon softly, as you have
often seen the sun set upon the water, leaving a brightness behind to
lighten the dark world for a little while.

This indeed was the sunset for Asgard. The darkness of sorrow came in
earnest after the passing of Balder the beautiful.

But the punishment of Loki was a terrible thing. And that came soon and
sore.

THE PUNISHMENT OF LOKI

After the death of Balder the world grew so dreary that no one had any
heart left for work or play. The Æsir sat about moping and miserable.
They were growing old,--there was no doubt about that. There was no
longer any gladness in Valhalla, where the Valkyries waited on table
and poured the foaming mead. There was no longer any mirth on Ida
Plain, when every morning the bravest of earth-heroes fought their
battles over again. Odin no longer had any pleasure in the daily news
brought by his wise ravens, Thought and Memory, nor did Freia enjoy her
falcon dress. Frey forgot to sail in his ship Skidbladnir, and even
Thor had almost wearied of his hammer, except as he hoped that it would
help him to catch Loki. For the one thought of all of them now was to
find and punish Loki.

Yet they waited; for Queen Frigg had sent a messenger to Queen Hela to
find if they might not even yet win Balder back from the kingdom of
death.

Odin shook his head. "Queen Hela is Loki's daughter," he said, "and she
will not let Balder return." But Frigg was hopeful; she had employed a
trusty messenger, whose silver tongue had won many hearts against their
will.

It was Hermod, Balder's brother, who galloped down the steep road to
Hela's kingdom, on Sleipnir, the eight-legged horse of Father Odin.
For nine nights and nine days he rode, through valleys dark and chill,
until he came to the bridge which is paved with gold. And here the
maiden Modgard told him that Balder had passed that way, and showed him
the path northward to Hela's city. So he rode, down and down, until
he came to the high wall which surrounded the grim palace where Hela
reigned. Hermod dismounted and tightened the saddle-girths of gray
Sleipnir, whose eight legs were as frisky as ever, despite the long
journey. And when he had mounted once more, the wonderful horse leaped
with him over the wall, twenty feet at least!

Then Hermod rode straight into the palace of Hela, straight up to the
throne where she sat surrounded by gray shadows and spirit people. She
was a dreadful creature to see, was this daughter of Loki,--half white
like other folk, but half black, which was not sunburn, for there was
no sunshine in this dark and dismal land. Yet she was not so bad as she
looked; for even Hela felt kindly towards Balder, whom her father had
slain, and was sorry that the world had lost so dear a friend. So when
Hermod begged of her to let his brother return with him to Asgard, she
said very gently,--

"Freely would I let him go, brave Hermod, if I might. But a queen
cannot always do as she likes, even in her own kingdom. His life must
be bought; the price must be paid in tears. If everything upon earth
will weep for Balder's death, then may he return, bringing light and
happiness to the upper world. Should one creature fail to weep, Balder
must remain with me."

Then Hermod was glad, for he felt sure that this price was easily paid.
He thanked Hela, and made ready to depart with the hopeful message.
Before he went away he saw and spoke with Balder himself, who sat with
Nanna upon a throne of honor, talking of the good times that used to
be. And Balder gave him the ring Draupnir to give back to Father Odin,
as a remembrance from his dear son; while Nanna sent to mother Frigg
her silver veil with other rich presents. It was hard for Hermod to
part with Balder once again, and Balder also wept to see him go. But
Hermod was in duty bound to bear the message back to Asgard as swiftly
as might be.

Now when the Æsir heard from Hermod this news, they sent messengers
forth over the whole world to bid every creature weep for Balder's
death. Heimdal galloped off upon Goldtop and Frey upon Goldbristle, his
famous hog; Thor rumbled away in his goat chariot, and Freia drove her
team of cats,--all spreading the message in one direction and another.
There really seemed little need for them to do this, for already there
was mourning in every land and clime. Even the sky was weeping, and the
flower eyes were filled with dewy tears.

So it seemed likely that Balder would be ransomed after all, and the
Æsir began to hope more strongly. For they had not found one creature
who refused to weep. Even the giants of Jotunheim were sorry to lose
the gentle fellow who had never done them any harm, and freely added
their giant tears to the salt rivers that were coursing over all the
world into the sea, making it still more salt.

It was not until the messengers had nearly reached home, joyful in the
surety that Balder was safe, that they found an ugly old giantess named
Thökt hidden in a black cavern among the mountains.

"Weep, mother, weep for Balder!" they cried. "Balder the beautiful is
dead, but your tears will buy him back to life. Weep, mother, weep!"

But the sulky old woman refused to weep.

"Balder is nothing to me," she said. "I care not whether he lives or
dies. Let him bide with Hela--he is out of mischief there. I weep dry
tears for Balder's death."

So all the work of the messengers was in vain, because of this one
obstinate old woman. So all the tears of the sorrowing world were shed
in vain. Because there were lacking two salty drops from the eyes of
Thökt, they could not buy back Balder from the prison of death.

When the messengers returned and told Odin their sad news, he was
wrathful.

"Do you not guess who the old woman was?" he cried. "It was Loki--Loki
himself, disguised as a giantess. He has tricked us once more, and for
a second time has slain Balder for us; for it is now too late,--Balder
can never return to us after this. But it shall be the last of Loki's
mischief. It is now time that we put an end to his deeds of shame."

"Come, my brothers!" shouted Thor, flourishing his hammer. "We have
wept and mourned long enough. It is now time to punish. Let us hasten
back to Thökt's cave, and seize Loki as quickly as may be."

So they hurried back into the mountains where they had left the
giantess who would not weep. But when they came to the place, the
cave was empty. Loki was too sharp a fellow to sit still and wait for
punishment to overtake him. He knew very well that the Æsir would soon
discover who Thökt really was. And he had taken himself off to a safer
place, to escape the questions which a whole world of not too gentle
folk were anxious to ask him.

The one desire of the Æsir was now to seize and punish Loki. So when
they were unable to find him as easily as they expected, they were
wroth indeed. Why had he left the cave? Whither had he gone? In what
new disguise even now was he lurking, perhaps close by?

The truth was that when Loki found himself at war with the whole world
which he had injured, he fled away into the mountains, where he had
built a strong castle of rocks. This castle had four doors, one looking
into the north, one to the south, one to the east, and one to the west;