Chapter X: Part II (5)

Every one in the palace shared the grief of Siegfried's gentle wife, and all the city mourned with her in the loss of one so greatly beloved as the hero whom Hagen called a "stranger." As long as the first shock of Siegfried's tragic death engrossed all of Kriemhild's thought and feeling, she did not realize the part which Hagen had played in the event; but as the days went by and she had time to think of all that had gone before, she remembered how her uncle had traitorously obtained the secret of Siegfried's vulnerable spot from her, and how she herself had, at his request, sewed the fatal mark upon her husband's coat. She had heard that it was by Hagen's hand that Siegfried met his death, yet she could not believe him guilty of such a terrible deed. So one day she went weeping to Hagen, and asked him to tell her by whom Siegfried was slain.

"The story of such things is not for a woman's ears," replied Hagen, "and whether he died by my hand or another's is of small moment. It was the will of the Norns, who rule the life of every man, that he should die, and their decrees no one of us can change or avert."

When the day was set for the great funeral fires to be lit, all the princes of Burgundy came to attend the solemn festival, and sought to do homage to the dead hero by bringing rich gifts to be laid upon the funeral pyre. This imposing structure was erected in front of the palace, and on the appointed day the foremost lords of Gunther's household brought the body of Siegfried from the palace where it had lain in state, and placed it sorrowfully upon the funeral pyre. Beside him was laid his armour and his magic Tarnkappe, and last of all the famous sword Balmung. The king had ordered that Greyfel be carefully guarded for fear that if he were brought upon the scene, he would leap into the flames and perish with his master.

Around these things, which were sacred to the memory of Siegfried, the princes of Burgundy piled their most costly gifts, and everything was ready for the fires to be lit. But no one of Gunther's men could bear to place a torch to the wood, and a dreadful stillness fell over the whole assembly. At length Hagen came boldly forward and laid a burning brand to the pile of logs which formed the funeral pyre. In a moment the whole structure was ablaze, and the hungry flames leaped upward toward the sky.

Gunther stood by, trembling and fearful, lest Odin should send some terrible retribution upon the one who had slain his chosen hero. Kriemhild, weeping, hid her face in her hands, for she could not watch the dreadful fires. On the faces of all the watchers was reflected a great sorrow, for no prince of Burgundy was so dear to them as Siegfried, even though he came from a foreign land. Only Hagen showed no grief or any sign of repentance for his deed, but stood by unmoved, like a grim, avenging god.

Then suddenly a figure appeared in their midst, wild and dishevelled, and seemingly mad with grief. It was Brunhilde, once a Valkyrie, come to claim her slain. Turning to the astonished group of mourners, she cried exultingly:--

"Look, you people of Burgundy, for the last time upon your queen whom you have ever seen fulfilling the common lot of mortal woman, and know that I was once a shield-maiden, one of Odin's Valkyries. I was condemned to eternal sleep by the great All-father, but was rescued by Siegfried, the hero who knows no fear. And here he lies who rode through the wall of fire to waken me, and who won me in the games by his godlike strength, though your cowardly King Gunther made false claim to me. Here lies Siegfried, the chosen hero of Odin and the true mate of Odin's warrior maiden. Therefore for him alone does Brunhilde own her love, and to him alone will she be wed. The Valkyrie yields only to the greatest hero." Saying this she leaped upon the funeral pyre, and in a moment had perished beside Siegfried in the flames.[59]

[59] In the Volsunga Saga, Brunhilde kills herself with a
sword.

And what of the ill-fated hoard upon which still rested Andvari's curse?

When the shock of the terrible events connected with Siegfried's death was over, and quiet was once more restored to Gunther's palace, Hagen came one day to the king and said:--

"You remember that Siegfried gave all of his treasure to Kriemhild on their wedding day, and although the hoard was never brought to Burgundy it still remains in the possession of your sister. Entreat her, therefore, to have it conveyed here; and, to accomplish your end more easily, tell her that she can honour Siegfried's memory by distributing his wealth among the poor. When we get the treasure into our hands, we will see, however, that nothing so foolish is done."

The weak-willed Gunther, always under the control of Hagen, accordingly sought Kriemhild and told her what great things could be done in honour of Siegfried, if only the treasure in the dragon's cave could be placed at her disposal. Kriemhild was not suspicious of her brother, for she did not know what part he had played in Siegfried's death, so she listened readily to his words, and said,--

"It shall be done even as you say, for naught can now bring me solace in my grief save some way to make the name of Siegfried dearer to the hearts of the people."

Then she handed Gunther the serpent ring which Siegfried had given her, and told him where to find the famous hoard in the cave of Glistenheath. She bade him keep the ring carefully, for Andvari might again have taken possession of the treasure, though he would yield it to the wearer of the ring.

The king took the ring from Kriemhild, and hastened with it to Hagen, who at once set to work to make preparations for conveying the hoard to Burgundy. In a few days a great number of wagons were fitted up, and with these a hundred men were despatched to gather all the treasure and bring it back to the palace. Although most of the men were Hagen's own followers, he could not trust them to go alone on this important mission, so he placed Siegfried's ring upon his own finger and led the expedition himself.

The hoard was found securely stowed away in Fafnir's cave, and not a single piece of gold had been taken since Siegfried rode away after slaying the dragon. The dwarf Andvari still guarded the treasure which had once been his; but when Hagen showed the serpent ring, he allowed the stranger to enter the cave. He would have preferred to deliver the hoard to Siegfried himself, but the possession of the serpent ring made its wearer the rightful owner of all the treasure. So Andvari was obliged to admit Hagen's claim, and assist him in bearing away the gold.

Some days later, the company which had set out from Gunther's palace empty-handed came back laden with such wealth of gold and precious stones that all the riches of Burgundy seemed nothing in comparison. This great hoard was stored safely in Gunther's palace, and Kriemhild was very glad to find so much wealth at her disposal.

She became very lavish in her gifts, and eager to pour out all her riches, if only it brought added honour upon Siegfried's memory. No one who came to beg alms of her ever went away empty-handed, and the palace was always full of suppliants for her bounty. This extravagant giving went on for some time, until one day Hagen came to the king and said:--

"If your sister continues to distribute so much gold among the people, we will soon have them idle and rebellious, and then they will be useless to us in time of warfare. Bid her, therefore, to cease her giving."

But Gunther answered, "I have brought enough sorrow upon her through my evil deeds, and if this lavish giving can soften her grief, let her continue to dispose of her wealth as it pleases her, even though she should exhaust all the treasure that is in the hoard."

Hagen determined, however, that it must not be so, and seeing that he could get no help from the king, he planned to gain his end by other means. So he made every appearance of approving Kriemhild's lavish gifts, and in time prevailed upon her to give him access to the treasure, that he might help her in disposing of it. Then one dark night he gathered together a band of his own followers, and stole all that remained of the hoard. They carried it from the palace by a secret passage, and brought it down to the river, where Hagen sunk it many fathoms deep. Neither he nor any one else could ever regain it, but at least it was out of Kriemhild's hands.

Thus was the hoard of Andvari, with its fateful curse, placed forever beyond the reach of men; but the charm and the mystery which hung around its very name still lingered through all the centuries that followed, and to-day the sailors upon the river Rhine are still looking for some glimpse of the sunken treasure.

The Punishment of Loki

The curse which the dwarf Andvari had placed upon the hoard, and particularly upon the serpent ring which Loki had wrested from him, did not end with the sinking of the treasure in the river. Both Hagen and Kriemhild had been wearers of the ring, and evil soon fell upon them as it had upon Fafnir, Regin, Siegfried and Brunhilde. Some years after Siegfried's death, Kriemhild married Etzel, king of the Huns, and was slain by one of his knights. Before this, however, she herself had struck the blow that killed the treacherous and cruel Hagen. With the burial of Kriemhild, the ill-fated ring passed forever from the sight of men, and the curse of Andvari was never again visited upon its unfortunate possessors.

Any other of the gods than Loki would have regretted the greed which made him tear the serpent ring from Andvari's finger, and thus bring misfortune upon so many innocent people; but Loki did not care whether human lives were wrecked by his misdoing any more than he felt one moment's remorse for having slain the shining Balder.

The gods had never forgiven Loki for this wicked deed, and they longed very much to drive him out of their beautiful city, which had never harboured any other evil thing. But Loki was Odin's brother, and they dared not punish him until the All-Wise One was ready to give his consent. Odin knew as well as they, that the slayer of Balder was not fit to live among the gods; but he waited for Loki to commit one more act of cruelty before he drove the offender out of Asgard. This occasion came, at last, sooner than Odin expected.

One day all the gods were invited to a feast in the halls of Æger, the sea-king; and a bounteous supply of ale was brewed in the great kettle that Thor had brought from Hymer's castle. Thor was not present at the feast, for he had been obliged to go on a long journey; but Loki was there, looking sullen and angry. No one spoke to him, and he sat silent and alone, trying to appear indifferent to the hostile looks that were directed toward him.

The palace of the sea-god was very beautiful, with its walls and ceiling made of mother-of-pearl so delicately laid that the light filtered softly through it. On the floor was strewn the finest golden sand, and all the food was placed in opal-tinted sea-shells. The only thing that marred the beauty of the scene was Loki's ugly, wicked face.

As the meal progressed and the gods grew merry over their cups, they almost forgot the presence of the unwelcome guest; but Loki brooded in angry silence, waiting for some chance to wreak his ill-will upon the whole company. A servant stopped beside him to refill his horn with the foaming ale; and one of the gods, as he watched this, said to old Æger: "Your servants have been well instructed. They are as careful to wait upon Loki as if he were an honoured guest." When Loki heard these words, he flew into a mad rage; and, seizing a knife that was lying on the table, he struck the unoffending servant dead.

At this wanton cruelty the gods sat speechless; but Odin rose, looking stern and awful in his wrath, and with a relentless voice he bade Loki be gone. "Never dare to tread our sacred halls again, nor pollute the pure air of Asgard with your presence," he cried. So terrible did Odin look that Loki slunk away out of the hall, and the gods returned again to their feasting. Soon a great noise was heard outside the hall, and all the servants came running in, looking very much frightened. Behind them walked Loki, who came boldly up to the table and dared Odin to send him out before he had spoken the words he had come back to say.

Then he began to talk to each one of the gods in turn, telling them of all the foolish or mean or wicked things they had ever done--ridiculing their mistakes, and laying bare all their faults in such a dishonest way that each small offence seemed an act of monstrous wickedness. Not content with trying to shame the heroes of Asgard, Loki began to speak slightingly of the goddesses; and attributed to them all the hateful things that his malicious imagination could invent. He was just telling some shameful lie about Sif when a rumbling of chariot wheels was heard outside, and in a moment Thor rushed into the hall brandishing his hammer. He had heard Loki's last words, and he made straight for the slanderer, intending to crush him with one blow of Mjölner. Loki, however, quickly changed himself into a sea-serpent, and slid out of the room before Thor's vengeful hammer could descend upon his head.

Taking his own shape, he made his way to the mountains of the north, and there he built a hut with four doors, opening north, east, south and west, so that he could see any one approaching and could easily make his escape. The hut was close beside a swift mountain stream, and here Loki spent many days in fishing--for there was little else to do to beguile the long hours. Remembering how easy it had been to catch Andvari after he had obtained the help of Ran, Loki made himself a net like the one which he had borrowed from the ocean queen. It took him a long time to weave the net; and one day, just as it was nearly finished, he saw two figures standing on the brow of the hill. He did not need a nearer view to tell him that the tall forms so clearly outlined against the sky were those of Thor and Odin. He knew that they had come to punish him for his many evil deeds; but he did not intend to be caught without making every possible effort to escape. So he threw the net which he was making into the fire, and, hurrying down to the stream, he quickly changed himself into a salmon.

When Odin and Thor reached the hut where they knew Loki had been in hiding, they found that he had escaped them. Then Thor by chance stumbled over the logs on the hearth, and, in doing so, he discovered the half-burnt net. Picking it up, he cried to Odin: "So this is what our crafty Loki has been doing to fill his idle hours. There must be some brook near by."

"Yes," replied Odin, "and that is where he has just gone. He has changed himself into a fish."

So the two gods went to the mountain stream, and there they saw a salmon lurking in the depths of a pool. Odin had already mended the burnt net so that it was serviceable, and he quickly threw it over the fish which was now darting here and there among the rocks. He did not catch the wily salmon, however, for it slid into a narrow opening between two stones. Then Odin cast again, and this time the fish gave a great leap over the net and darted up the stream. Determined that the tricky Loki should not outwit them, Odin and Thor followed the salmon a long distance until the stream finally narrowed into a tiny rivulet. The salmon now gave another leap into the air in a vain effort to escape the enclosing net which Odin threw over it. Then, finding itself caught, with incredible quickness it began to work its way through the meshes of the net, and would have slid out of the gods' hands had not Thor suddenly caught it by the tail. Since that time, so the story goes, all salmon have their tails pointed.

Odin now changed Loki into his proper form, and he and Thor dragged the wicked god to a cave in the mountain. Here they bound Loki hand and foot with iron chains, and fastened these firmly to the rock. Then Odin placed over his head a venomous serpent which dropped its poison upon the face of the fettered god, causing him great pain. So, chained and suffering, he lay there in the cave, unpitied by either gods or men. Only Sigyn, his faithful wife, felt any sorrow for his pain, and she sat always beside him to catch the venom in a cup so that it should not fall on the captive's face. When she was obliged to turn away to empty the cup, the drops of poison fell upon Loki, and he shook and writhed so terribly in his agony that the whole earth trembled.

So Loki lay chained in the cave until the day when, according to the decree of the Norns, he was allowed to break his fetters and become the leader in that terrible battle which ushered in the last great day--Ragnarok, the Twilight of the Gods.

The Twilight of the Gods

The gods hoped that when Loki was bound fast, there would be peace in Asgard, and an end to mischief-making on the earth. Odin knew, however, that the time was almost at hand when the end of all things would come; and while gods and men rejoiced in the universal happiness, Odin's face was full of sadness. He had given to the earth and to Asgard a brief respite from trouble by chaining the wicked Loki to the rock, but he felt that the day of reckoning was near.

The first warning Odin had of the nearness of that day was when a sudden deadly cold spread over all the earth, and he knew it was the beginning of that long, long winter which had been foretold by the writing in the runes. So sharp and long-continued was the cold that it chilled the hearts of men, and even crept upward to touch the robes of those who dwelt in the eternal springtime of Asgard. Though all the earth shuddered under the winter's icy hand, people everywhere took comfort in saying, "It will soon be over and then the warm days will come." But they waited day after day and week after week until the season came which should have been summer, but still the snow and frost and chill kept the world fast bound. Not a flower bloomed nor a tree budded nor any green thing appeared above the frozen ground. Yet the folk of Midgard still hoped on, and waited for the summer that never came. The terrible winter[60] lasted for three years, and everywhere the dead were numbered by thousands. No food was to be had except what by chance had been stored away, for nothing could grow in the land where ice and snow lay always thick upon the ground. Knowing that they had but a short time to live, men fought and killed each other for the mere love of bloodshed, and no one tried to restrain the crime and wickedness that stalked unmolested through the streets. The gods looked down from Asgard at the desolation on the earth, and they sorrowed greatly to see men trying to drown their fears or buy forgetfulness in deeds of violence and brutish pleasure. Only the frost-giants rejoiced over the long destructive winter, for they had always wished to see the whole world wrapped in fog and cold like their own dreary Jötunheim. They turned their envious eyes toward Asgard, and waited in grim certainty that the rule of the gods was soon to end.

[60] It is called in the old Norse the Fimbul winter.

There was still some warmth in Asgard, for all of the sun's rays were turned toward the sacred city; but Odin knew that they had but a short time in which to enjoy this scant comfort. The two gray wolves that were ever pursuing Sol and Mani were fed, during the long winter, by a frost-giantess; and one dreadful day they rushed after the chariots of the sun and moon with such unlooked-for swiftness that they at last overtook the shining cars and devoured the charioteers. Soon a thick darkness spread over all the world, and when the last gleam of light faded from the sky, all the evil things that had lain hidden for fear of the gods, or that wished to live away from the light,--all these came boldly forth from caves and dark forests and holes underground, for they knew that their time had come at last.

Then a terrible rending sound was heard as if the very foundations of the earth were being broken up. There was a rushing noise like the outpouring of all the seas, and a trampling as of a million feet. The Midgard serpent reared its horrid head above the waves, and then drew its huge coils from around the earth, creeping slowly from the sea to the land. The Fenris wolf broke his chains, and sprang with a fierce leap to the rock on the mountain where Loki lay bound. With the help of Fenrer, the fettered god tore himself free of his chains, and roamed over the earth with the great wolf at his side, gathering together all the hosts of evil that were eager to war against the gods.

From Jötunheim came an army of frost-giants ready to fight with their old enemy in a last great battle; and out of Muspelheim marched a troop of fire-giants under the leadership of Surter, who carried a flaming sword. Through a deep cleft in the earth Hel crept stealthily out of her silent halls; and behind her trooped thousands and thousands of dusky shapes that would never have dared to come up into the light of day. The Midgard serpent, pouring forth poison from his ever-open mouth, spread his great length across the stricken land, and glided on to the plain called Vigrid where Loki had gathered together a vast and hideous array. A cry like the howling of wolves rose up from the plain, and it beat in the ears of those who were waiting behind the walls of Asgard. It was a cry full of hatred and defiance, and when the gods heard it they knew that the challenge could not go unanswered. Sadly--for each felt it was the end--they prepared themselves for battle; and, while they made ready, the frost-giants determined to avenge themselves by taking possession of Asgard. So, before Heimdall could sound his horn to warn the gods of the approaching enemy, they began to rush across the rainbow bridge that led to the coveted city. They came in such numbers and with such violence that Bifrost broke beneath the heavy tramp of feet, and the frost-giants were obliged to return to the plain Vigrid and wait for the coming battle.

The gods, with Odin at their head, marched bravely out of Asgard to meet the great host of evil things which had leagued together to destroy them. Then a terrible battle was fought, the like of which had never been seen on the earth before, nor ever will be again. Though the gods fought with the courage of despair, they knew that it was useless to contend with the fury and strength and numbers that were arrayed against them. One by one the shining heroes of Asgard fell beneath the attacks of the madly exultant foe, and even the mighty Mjölner was powerless to avert the doom which had been decreed by fate.

Thor struggled fiercely with the Midgard serpent, and though he killed it at last with his hammer, the terrible coils closed slowly about him and he was drowned in the flood of venom that poured out of the dying creature's mouth. Loki slew Heimdall; but not before the gods' faithful watchman had dealt the leader of the evil hosts a mortal blow. Odin engaged in a deadly combat with the Fenris wolf, and was at last torn to pieces by Fenrer's terrible teeth and claws. Seeing the greatest of the gods so brutally killed, Vidar, Odin's son, sprang upon the wolf, and with the strength born of madness and despair, struck the great brute dead. Surter, the fire giant, rushed quickly at Freyr, and destroyed the bright god with his flaming sword. Then he threw fire and flames over all the earth, and soon everything was consumed in the terrible conflagration that followed. Ygdrasil, the Tree of Life, withered up and was caught by the wildly leaping flames. The great tree burned like a dry twig; and when the last leaf fluttered feebly toward the encroaching fire, the high walls around Asgard fell with a crash to the ground, and let in the devouring flames. The stars dropped one by one into the sea, darkness reigned over all the world, and time itself seemed blotted out forever.

Then silence and the brooding night took possession of the universe, and this lasted many, many years; but in time a new heaven and a new earth emerged from the chaos that followed the destruction of Asgard. The sun shone again in the clear sky, and the moon and the stars once more shed their soft light on the earth. The flowers bloomed as gayly as before, and the fields were thick with ripening grain. Then, when the earth was ready for another race of men, a certain man and woman who had lain all these years asleep in the depths of a cave, awoke. They looked with delight upon an earth made fresh and new, and to them and to their children it was given as an everlasting possession.

INDEX AND PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY

Æger, _also_ Ægir (ā´gir), 58, 65, 143, 260-261.

Æsir (ā´sir), 6.

Ag´nar (1), 28-36.

Ag´nar (2), 201.

Alf, 149-150, 176-179, 186, 196.

Andvari (änd´vä rē), 140, 144-148, 186, 194, 203, 213, 255-259,
260.

An´gerbode, 51.

An´se race, 6.

An´ses (an´sēs̝), 6.

Asas (ä´sas), 6.

Asgard (as´gärd), 6, 9, 25, 51, 66, 71, 77, 80, 86, 87, 120, 126,
128-130, 133, 135, 184, 260, 266-271.

Ask (äsk), 8.

Audhumbla, 2.

Balder (bal´dẽr), 16, 126-136, 259-260.

Balmung (bäl´mŏŏng), 182, 188, 190, 195, 210, 215, 217, 253.

Bar-isle (bär i´sle), 115-116.

Baugi (bow´gē), 21-26.

Bergel´emer, _also_ Bergel´emir, 3.

Bifrost (bēf´rŏst), 7, 38, 67.

Bil´skirner, _also_ Bil´skirnir, 40.

Bor (bōr), 3.

Bor´ghild, 169-171.

Bragi (brä´ḡē), 26, 87, 88.

Branstock (brän´stock), 151.

Breidablik (brā´dȧ blik), 126.

Brock, 45-50.

Brunhilde (brün hĭl´dẽ), 199-203, 215-255.

Bure (bū´re), 3.

Bur´gundy, 206, 209, 214-215, 228-231, 253-254.

Dank´wart, 218, 222.

Day, 4, 15.

Draupner, _also_ Draupnir (drowp´nir), 48.

Drome (drō´me), 54.

Dwarfs, 7.

Elfheim (elf´hīm) or Elfland, 8, 31.

Eliudnir (ĕl ĭ ŏŏd´ner), 127.

Ellie, _also_ Elli (ĕl´lē), 105, 107.

Elves, 7, 42-49.

Emb´la, 8.

Etzel (et´sel), 259.

Fafnir (faf´nir), 139, 147-148, 183-195, 213, 215.

Fairies, 7.

Fates, 9.

Fen´rer, _also_ Fen´rir, 52, 54.

Fenris wolf, 51-57, 268-271.

Fensalir (fen sä lẽr´), 27.

Fialar (fejäl´ar), 18-20.

Fim´bul-winter, 267.

Folk´-vang, 74.

Freki (frā´kē), 11.

Freya, _also_ Freyja (frā´a), 30, 68, 74, 76, 78.

Freyr (frā´r), 30, 44, 55, 109-116, 271.

Fric´ka, 27.

Frig´ga, 27-33, 128-130, 134.

Galar (gäl´ar), 18-20.

Gefjun (gāf´yūn), 36.

Geirrod (gār´rod), 28-36.

Gerd, _also_ Gerda, 109-116.

Geri (ḡā´rē), 11.

Gial´ar-horn, 38.

Gil´ling, 19.

Ginungagap (ḡin´ōōn gä gäp´), 1.

Giöll, _also_ Gjöll (ḡī´ōl), 134.

Giuki (ḡĭū´kē), 207.

Gladsheim (gläts´hīm), 6.

Gleipnir (glāp´nēr), 56.

Glis´tenheath, 195, 256.

Gnomes (nōmz), 7.

Gold´fax, 118, 123.

Gram (gräm), 182.

Grani (grä´ni), 185.

Greyfel (grā´fel), 185-186, 189, 195, 196-205, 242.

Grimhild (grĭm´hĭlt), 206.

Grim´ner, _also_ Grim´nir, 30.

Grjotlungard (gryōt´lun gard), 121.

Gro´a, 124-125.

Gudrun (gōōd´rōōn), 206.

Gullinbursti (gōōl in bōōr´stē), 48.

Gulltopp (gōōl´top), 38.

Gunger (goon´ger), 44.

Gunlod (goon´lod), 20, 24.

Gunnar (gōō´när), 206, 220.

Gunther (gŏŏn´tẽr), 206-259.

Guttorm (gōōt´tôrm), 207, 248.

Gylfe, 36-39.

Gymer, 112-114.

Hagen (hä´ḡen), 206-259.

Hall of Mists, 27.

Heidrun (hī´drōōn), 10.

Heimdall (hīm´däl), 38, 66, 119, 269-270.

Hel, _also_ Hĕ´la, 9, 51, 52, 127, 133-136, 269.

Helheim (hel´hīm), 127-128, 133-136.

Helm-Gun´nar, 201.

Hermod (hĕr´mod), 134-136.

Hindfell (hĭnd´fell), 196.

Hiordis, _also_ Hjordis (hē ôr´dis), 171-180.

Hjalprek, 176.

Hlymdale, 220.

Höder, _also_ Hodur (hẽ´dẽr), 128, 131, 134.

Hœnir (hẽ´nēr), 8, 80-85, 137-138, 147.

Hogni (hōg´nē), 207.

Hraudung (hrow´doong), 28.

Hreidmar (hrīd´mar), 138.

Hrim´faxe, 4, 15.

Hrun´gner, 117-123.

Hugi (hōō´ḡē), 101, 107.

Hugin (hōō´ḡēn), 11, 20.

Hymer, _also_ Hymir (hē´mir), 58-65, 260.

Hyrroken, _also_ Hyrrokin (hēr´ro ken), 132.

Iduna (e dōōn´a), 80-90.

Ifing (ē´fing), 15.

Isenland (ē´sen land), 203, 212, 219-221.

Jötunheim (yẽ´tŏŏn hīm), 4, 9, 14, 16, 37, 51, 75, 91, 106, 108,
110-115, 117-120, 267, 269.

Kriemhild (krēm´hilt), 206-259.

Kvasir (kvä´sir), 18.

Land of Fire, 1, 5.

Land of Mist, 1, 72, 110.

Leding (lā´ding), 53.

Logi (lo´ḡē), 102, 107.

Loki (lo´kē), 8, 40-50, 68-72, 73-79, 80-90, 91-108, 129-131,
137-148, 259-271.

Lyngi (lin´ḡē), 172-177.

Magic Mead, 16-26.

Magne (mäg´ne), 123.

Mani (mä´nē), 5, 16, 268.

Mid´gard, 6, 9, 267.

Mid´gard Serpent, 51, 62-63, 107, 268-271.

Mimer, _also_ Mimir (mē´mēr), 10, 12-14.

Mjölner, _also_ Mjöllnir, 49, 65, 73-79, 97-98, 121, 262, 270.

Modgud, _or_ Madgu´dur, 134.

Mokkerkalfe, 122.

Mu´nin, 11, 20.

Muspelheim (mōōs´pel hīm), 2, 110, 269.

Nanna (nän´nä), 132.

Nibelungenlied (nē´bē lŏŏng´enlēt), 196, 208-209.

Niblungs (nēb´lōōng), 207, 209.

Nidhogg (nēd´hŏg), 9.

Niflheim (nĭf´l hīm), 1.

Night, 4, 15.

Njord, 31.

Norns, 9, 129, 253, 265.

Odin (ō´din), 3, 8, 10-17, 20-26, 29-39, 45, 48-50, 52, 66-69,
80-85, 88, 117-120, 126-129, 132-134, 137-139, 151, 152, 168,
171, 173, 181-182, 184-185, 189, 255, 260-271.

Or van´del, 124-125.

Ot´ter, 138.

Peace-Bough, 10.

Ragnarok (räg´nȧ rŏk´), 265.

Ran (rän), 141-143, 148, 260.

Ratatosk (rä´ta tusk), 10.

Regin (rā´gĭn), 139, 147-148, 149-150, 168-169, 179-195.

Rerir (rā´rēr), 151.

Ring´horn, 132.

Rodmar, 138.

Serimnir (sā rēm´nēr), 200.

Siegfried (sēḡ´frēd), 149-150, 179-250.

Siegmund (sēg´mund), 153-175, 178.

Sif, 40-44.

Sigi (sē´gē), 151-167.

Siggeir (sĭḡ´gār), 151-167.

Sig´mund, 153.

Signy (sĭg´nē), 151.

Sigurd (zē´gŏŏrt), 149, 179, 183, 220, 248.

Sigyn, _also called_ Siguna (sē´gēn), 264.

Sindri, _also_ Sindre (sin´drē), 45-48.

Sinfiotli, _also_ Sinfjotli (sin´fyāt lē), 160-171.

Skidbladner (skid bläd´nēr), 44.

Skinfaxe (skin´fäx), 4, 15.

Skirner, _also_ Skirnir (skĭr´nēr), 55-56, 111-116.

Skrymer, _also_ Skrymir (skrē´mēr), 107.

Skuld (skŏŏld), 9.

Sleipnir (slāp´nēr), 12, 117-118, 127, 134.

Sol, 5, 268.

Surter, _also_ Surtur _or_ Surt (sŏŏr´tēr), 269, 271.

Suttung (soot´tŏŏng), 19-26.

Svadilfare, _also_ Svadilfari (svä dilfä´rē), 69-71.

Svartalfheim (svär talf´hīm), 55.

Tarnkappe (tärn´käp pē), 210, 217, 225, 253.

Thialfi (thē äl´fē) _or_ (tē äl´fē), 92-93, 96-99, 100-101, 122.

Thiassi (the äs´sē) _or_ (tē as´sē), 84-90.

Thok (thŏk) _or_ (tŏk), 136.

Thor (thôr´) _or_ (tŏr), 41, 53-54, 58-65, 73-79, 91-108, 117-125,
263-265.

Thrym (thrüm), 75-79.

Thrymheim (thrüm´hīm), 87.

Thunderer, _see_ Thor.

Tree of Life, 9, 10, 271.

Trolls, 7.

Tyr (tēr), 52, 57, 58-65.

Urd (ōōrd), 9.

Urdar Fountain, 9.

Ute (oo´tē), 206-207, 212-213, 218-219, 232-233.

Utgard (ŏŏt´gärd), 91, 95, 98.

Utgard-Loke (ŏŏt´gärd lo´kē), 98, 100-108.

Vafthrudner, _also_ Vafthrudnir, 14-17.

Valhalla (văl hăl´la), 31, 72, 119, 171, 200-201.

Valkyrie (văl kĭr´ĭ), 196-203, 215, 217, 222, 254.

Var (vär), 79.

Ve (vā), 3.

Verdande, _also_ Verdandi (vĕrdän´de), 9.

Vidar, 270.

Vigrid (vēḡ´rēd), 16, 269-270.

Vikings, 176-177.

Vile, _also_ Vili (vē´lē), 3.

Vingolf (vĭn´gŏlf), 6.

Volsung (King) (vŏl´sŏŏng), 151-155.

Volsunga Saga (vēl sŏŏn´ḡä sä´gä), 149, 153, 179, 183, 185, 199,
206-207, 208, 220, 248, 255.

Volsungs, 150, 155-168, 170, 172-175, 183, 198.

Voltam (vōl´tam), 127.

Well of Wisdom, 12.

Wo´dan, Wo´tän, Wo´den, _see_ Odin, 3.

Ygdrasil, _also_ Yggdrasill (ĭḡ´drasil), 9, 10, 271.

Ymir (ē´mer), 2-4.

The following pages contain advertisements of books by the same author or on kindred subjects.

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

Stories of Old Greece and Rome

_Decorated cloth, 12mo, $1.50 net_

"... an excellent combination of mythology and literature.... Here is a gift that is a tonic for the weak imagination of the modern child."--_The Nation._

"An interesting and valuable book."--_N. Y. Times._

"Illustrated from photographs of famous statues and paintings, this will be a valuable adjunct to the young person's library."--_The Continent._

"If you have not a volume of these myths of the gods and immortals, here is an excellent one to buy."--_San Jose Herald._

"All that is classic, inspirational, tonic, and vital in Greek and Roman mythology is here repictured in charming phrase for young and old."--_Journal of Education._

"It opens up a new world to the childish imagination that is bound to foster in its wonder much that is beautiful and idealistic."--_Boston Transcript._

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"The book should make a valuable addition to the library of the teacher in mythology in elementary and high schools."--_The Classical Journal._

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NEW BOOKS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS

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With Illustrations by George Harper

_Decorated cloth, 12mo, $1.25 net_

That there are few men better qualified to write school stories than Latta Griswold has been amply demonstrated by that author's previous books. Here, in "The Winds of Deal," he tells another tale quite as stirring as its predecessors. Deal School, the _locale_ of his first work, "Deering of Deal," is again the scene, while Tony Deering himself once more figures in the action, though he is not the character of chief importance. That person is one George Erroll, a most likable chap and a very human creation, too. In the narrative of his adventures Mr. Griswold has splendidly caught the spirit of school life with its friendships, its trials, its tribulations as well as its successes.

_ROBERTS'S NEW ANIMAL STORIES_

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With Illustrations by Paul Bransom

_Decorated cloth, 12mo, $1.35 net_

"Under the faithful guidance of Mr. Roberts," the editor of the _London Athenæum_ once wrote, "we have ventured among the wild beasts of land and sea; and we hope to do so many times in the future. It is an education not to be missed by those who have the chance, and the chance is every one's." "Hoof and Claw" is another of those books for which Mr. Roberts is so justly famous, a book much like the one referred to in the preceding sentences. In it are told more than a dozen stories of animals. Mr. Roberts writes with an understanding of the nature of the creatures of field and forest that is nothing short of marvelous, an appreciation of the wild life that has seldom if ever found its equal in literature. Among the titles of the tales in his latest collection are "The Bear That Thought He Was a Dog," "The Trail of the Vanishing Herds," "The Cabin Door," "A Basket of Fish," "The Fisher in the Chutes," "The Runner of the High Peaks," and "Up a Tree."

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_BY LATTA GRISWOLD_

Deering at Princeton

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NEW VOLUMES IN THE

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Cyrus T. Brady's _The Two Captains_.
Charles G. D. Roberts's _The Backwoodsmen_.
Lewis Carroll's _The Hunting of the Snark_.
Elisa H. Figyelmessy's _Two Boys in the Tropics_.
Alice W. Fox's _Hearts and Coronets_.
Gabrielle E. Jackson's _Peggy Stewart at Home_.
Edna Turpin's _Honey Sweet_.
Charles S. Wood's "_Don't Give Up the Ship_."
Stewart E. White's _Magic Forest_.
Evelyn Sharp's _The Youngest Girl in the School_.

With the publication of the above volumes the usefulness of the _Juvenile Library_ is further extended. It is the purpose of this series to present books for boys and girls which have been approved as suitable reading by those who have made a study of fiction for children. Only those books the influence of which is undoubtedly of the right kind are included. While this purpose is not lost sight of, neither is the child's point of view neglected. The stories are without exception of that entertaining character that appeal strongly to the youngsters for whom they were written.

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Altsheler. The Horsemen of the Plains

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Bacon. While Caroline Was Growing

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Carroll. Alice's Adventures and Through the Looking Glass

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Dix. A Little Captive Lad

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Greene. Pickett's Gap

By Homer Greene

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Mabie. The Book of Christmas

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Nesbit. The Railway Children

By E. Nesbit

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Whyte. The Story Book Girls

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Wright. Dream Fox Story Book

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Lucas. Slowcoach

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Major. Uncle Tom Andy Bill

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Major. The Bears of Blue River

By Charles Major

"A little boy of pioneer days has many exciting adventures, which will please all real boys."

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* * * * * *

Transcriber's note:

Minor punctuation errors have been corrected.

The following changes have been made:

Page 78--omitted word 'a' added--"Did ever a maiden eat like
this one?" ...

Page 78--omitted word 'a' added--"Did ever a maiden eat like
this one?" ...

Page 274--Hrauding changed to Hraudung (for consistency with
main text)--Hraudung (hrow´doong), 28.

Page 274--Hriedmar changed to Hreidmar (for consistency with
main text)--Hreidmar (hrīd´mar), 138.

Illustrations have been moved where necessary so that they are not in the middle of a paragraph.