Chapter VII: Part II (2)

Then he raised a loud cry, and called for help to his two sons, Fafnir and Regin, who came running in from the woods near by. As soon as they heard of the killing of their brother, they seized the three gods and bound them hand and foot, for, in becoming men, the gods had lost all their divine powers, and they had no choice but to yield.

When Odin begged the old man to ask whatever he would in payment for their ransom, both Fafnir and Regin demanded the life of one of the gods in return for their brother's. But their father spread the otter's skin upon the ground, and, turning to Odin, said,--

"You and your wicked companions shall be free when you have covered every hair of this hide with a piece of gold or a precious stone."

"We will do this," answered Odin; "but first you must set one of us free that he may go and procure the treasure. Let the other two stay bound as hostages until he returns."

To this the old man and his sons agreed, and Odin bade them unbind Loki, for he alone would know where to find such vast treasure as they needed. Accordingly Loki was freed, and promising his companions to return with their ransom, he hurried away. There was only one place where a hoard of gold and precious stones might be found, and thither Loki directed his steps. There were many mountains to climb and rivers to cross before he reached the place he sought, and night coming on made the journey more difficult and wearisome.

At last he spied upon a rocky mountain side the thing he had come so far to find, a small, deep cavern in the rocks. As Loki drew nearer, the moonlight revealed a little brook gushing from the mouth of the cavern and winding in and out among the rocks below. It was small, but beautifully clear, and the pebbles in its bed shone in the moonlight like diamonds. Just where it issued from the cave, the water flowed swiftly over a deep pool, and here it was so dark that only the sharp eyes of Loki could have caught the faint shimmer of a salmon which lay lurking in its depths.

Loki saw it, however, and his heart leaped for joy, for this salmon was no other than the cunning dwarf Andvari, the owner of a wonderful hoard of gold and gems. The treasure was buried somewhere near the cavern, and it was to gain this glittering hoard that Loki had come so far. So he now put forth all his skill to catch the wily salmon as it darted to and fro in the stream. The dwarf knew, however, who the fisherman was, and why he had come, and he had no intention of being caught and made to yield up his treasures. Loki spent many hours trying to lure the salmon into the shallows, but all his efforts were in vain. The crafty fish never moved from his deep, dark pool. Then Loki saw that further attempts would be useless unless he had help from some one with magic skill, so he determined to seek the aid of Queen Ran and her wonderful net.

Leaving the cave, he hurried down to the sea, and for many hours he walked along the shore, searching carefully among the rocks for the hiding place of the cruel ocean queen. Somewhere here, or upon the jagged reefs, he would be sure to find her spreading a net for her prey. But though he wandered for miles along the water's edge, he caught no glimpse of her anywhere; and, wearied and disheartened, he was about to give up his search, when he heard a low, rippling laugh just behind him, and turning he saw the beautiful daughters of the sea-king seated on the rocks combing their golden hair. Loki went over to them and begged them to tell him where he could find their mother, Queen Ran.

"Why do you seek her?" one of the maidens asked.

"Because I am a fisherman, and would like to ask her where the big fish are gathering now," replied Loki.

The sea-maidens laughed again and said:--

"O crafty, cunning Loki, do not think to deceive us who know well who you are, and why you have come hither. Play no tricks, then, and tell no lies to our mother, or you will not gain the object of your journey."

Loki promised, and begged the nymphs to tell him where to find Queen Ran, since no other than Odin himself needed her help.

"You must go about ten miles farther," answered one of the maidens, "until you come to a place where the rocks are high, and project in sharp, dangerous reefs far out into the sea. Here the waves dash with tremendous fury, and here is many a good ship wrecked and all her cargo lost. Look among the shadows of the rocks, and you will find our mother sitting there mending her net."

Loki thanked the nymphs and hurried on, for the night was growing black and the moon was completely hidden, and he had yet far to go. When he felt sure that ten miles lay between him and the daughters of the sea, he stopped and looked carefully about him. Near by was a group of tall, jagged rocks over which the waves dashed with great force; but there was one spot so protected that even the spray from the water did not reach it, and here Loki spied Queen Ran, long-fingered, greedy and cruel, mending her magic net. When she saw Loki, she tried to hide in the shadow of the rocks, for she knew him and feared he had come with some unfriendly message from Odin. But Loki called to her and said:--

"Be not afraid, O Queen, for I come as a petitioner to beg a great boon of thee;" and Ran replied, "What does Loki wish, that he leaves the shining halls of Asgard to travel over the earth to speak to the wife of Æger?"

"I have journeyed thus far," answered Loki, "because I have heard of your wonderful net. They say that it will catch whatever you wish, and that anything once caught cannot escape from its magic meshes. Therefore I have come to ask your help, for there is a certain salmon which I have long tried to snare, but which is too cunning to be caught by ordinary means. Lend me, I beg, your magic net."

"I cannot! I cannot!" cried Ran, "there is a ship sailing hither which will reach these rocks in the morning, and it is full of great treasure--jewels, and gold, and rich apparel. I have sent my mermaids to lure it to the reefs, where it will be dashed to pieces, and the prize be gathered into my net. No, I cannot lend it to you."

"But let me have it for just one hour," pleaded Loki, "and I will promise to return it in that time. I swear it on the word of a god."

The oath was reassuring, but still Ran hesitated to let the precious net leave her hands. At length, however, she was persuaded, and with many expressions of gratitude, Loki said good-by and hastened back to the cave of Andvari, for the night was now far spent, and at daylight the salmon would be sure to leave his haunts.

When he reached the cavern, the fish was still lying idly in the water, but upon seeing the net in Loki's hand it darted like a flash down the stream. Then Loki quickly cast his net, and though the cunning fish swam with wonderful swiftness, it could not escape the magic net which began to close slowly and surely about it. As soon as Loki thought that his prize was secure, he drew the net on land, and, after slowly loosening the meshes, he at last grasped the struggling fish in his hand. Now, however, it was no longer a salmon fighting for its freedom, but the crafty dwarf Andvari. Any one less wise than Loki would have dropped him immediately in surprise at the transformation, but Loki only held on the tighter, and shook the poor dwarf until he cried for mercy.

"No mercy will I grant thee, thou master thief," exclaimed the god, "until thou hast revealed to me the hiding place of thy ill-gotten treasures. Show me where it lies, or I will dash thee to pieces upon these rocks."

Seeing that there was no hope of escape, Andvari promised to yield up his hoard, and pointing to a large rock near by bade Loki raise it and look beneath. Without loosening his hold of the dwarf, Loki tried to lift the stone, but though it was far from being heavy or beyond his strength, he found that he could not move it. Then he knew that he was being tricked, and, grasping the dwarf still tighter, he shook him fiercely and commanded him to give his help. Andvari laid his finger on the stone and immediately it turned over and disclosed a large pit beneath.

It was quite dark now and the moon was completely hidden; yet even in the dim light Loki saw the sparkle of thousands of precious gems and the shimmer of many dazzling heaps of gold. It was truly a wonderful sight, and would have bewildered the ordinary finder of such wealth; but Loki had no time to spend in admiration. He gathered all the treasure together in the net, which, by its magic power, grew larger and larger as he continued to fill it.

The dwarf meanwhile stood by sullen and angry, watching the gold and gems being poured into the net. Had it been Odin who was robbing him of his hoard, he would have begged that some small portion of it might be left him, but he knew better than to make such a request of Loki. So when the last of the treasure had been gathered up, he turned away and was disappearing into the woods when Loki caught the glitter of something upon his finger, and seizing him roughly, cried out: "Ho, ho, my cunning elf. So you would keep back some of the gems, I see. Yield me that ring upon your finger, or you shall not have one moment more to live."

Andvari's face grew black with rage, and he refused to give up his ring, stamping his foot all the while upon the ground and cursing Loki for his avarice and greed. Yet he knew too well that his fury was in vain, and soon he changed his tone, begging Loki, humbly, to leave him his one poor gem. This appeal would have moved any other of the gods, but Loki was never known to do a generous thing in all his life. He only gave a mocking, hateful laugh, and, seizing the dwarf, tore the ring from his finger.

It was a wonderful ring, shaped like a serpent, coiled, with its tail in its mouth. It had two blood-red rubies for eyes, and in the dim light they seemed to Loki to glow with all the cunning and cruelty of a living serpent. But this did not deter him from slipping the ring on his finger, and laughing triumphantly at the dwarf, who was now foaming with helpless rage. Then Andvari cursed the ring and said: "May this ring be your bane, and the bane of all who shall possess it. May it bring sorrow and evil upon him who shall wear it, and from this day be the source of envy and hatred and bloodshed."

To these dreadful words Loki paid no heed, and, throwing his precious burden upon his shoulder, he hurried down the mountain side and sped swiftly on to the old man's cottage. Odin and Hœnir were still bound, and they had almost given up hope of Loki's return. But they forgot the tediousness of their captivity when they saw the great heap of gold and gems which Loki poured out of the net; for here was surely more than enough to cover ten otters' skins, and the remainder of the treasure would be their own.

Fafnir and Regin stretched the skin upon the ground, and bade Loki cover every hair. This seemed at first an easy thing to do; but the more gold and precious stones that Loki spread upon it, the larger the skin seemed to grow, until it covered the entire floor of the hut; and though Loki still added handfuls of gold, the brothers always found some spot uncovered. At last every hair of the hide was completely hidden beneath some coin or gem, and the gods demanded their release. The old man unloosed the cords which bound them and was bidding them depart, when Regin uttered a loud cry and declared that there was one hair yet uncovered upon the otter's head.

Odin and Hœnir looked at each other in dismay, for the net was now empty, and there was no way to procure further treasure. Meanwhile, the old man and his sons were clamouring loudly for the gods to fulfil their promise. The case seemed indeed desperate; until Loki drew from his finger the serpent ring of Andvari, and laid it upon the hair. The brothers being now satisfied, the gods left the hut with all speed. Odin and Hœnir returned at once to Asgard, while Loki took back the net to Queen Ran, who was anxiously waiting, and reached her just as the dawn was breaking.

The treasure soon became, according to Andvari's words, a source of hatred and bloodshed; for the old man, wishing to keep the wealth for himself, drove his sons from the house, and shut himself up with his treasure. All day long he sat poring greedily over the heap of glittering gems, and running his fingers through the shining gold. Above all, he loved to watch the serpent ring, with its glowing ruby eyes.

Then one night Fafnir came suddenly upon him, demanding his share of the gold; and when the old man refused to yield up even one stone, Fafnir slew him in his anger, and took possession of all the treasure. Soon he grew fearful that his brother might steal upon him sometime and rob, or perchance kill him; so he changed himself into a monstrous dragon which breathed forth fire and spat deadly poison. Thus secured, he coiled himself about the hoard, and no one dared to approach him. Regin meanwhile fled to a neighbouring city, and became the king's master-smith, the maker of strong swords.

The Story of Siegmund

The king whose protection Regin sought was named Alf, and when he learned of the great skill that belonged to this stranger in his realm, he gave Regin a place of honour among the sword-makers, and soon promoted him to be master-smith. Before many years passed the fame of Regin's smithy had spread far and wide; for here men gathered not only to learn the master's craft, but to share in that wisdom which he seemed to have gathered from all the ages. Even the noted wise men of the kingdom came to him, wondering at his great knowledge; and the king sought his counsel in all the difficult affairs of state.

At the court of King Alf lived his foster-son Siegfried,[39] who was much beloved by the king, although he was not of his own blood. The youth was tall and strong, of fearless bearing, and with so keen an eye that men often quailed before his glance. His hair was golden red, and fell down in long locks over his shoulders; and his body was of a strength that matched the beauty of his face. Men said of him that "never did he lose heart, and of naught was he afraid." When Siegfried grew to manhood, King Alf sent him to Regin's smithy that he might not only profit by the wisdom of this wisest of teachers, but also be taught to fashion a sword that could be worthily borne by one of his name and race, for Siegfried was the last of the Volsungs--a race of warriors whose fame was still fresh in the minds of men.

[39] In the Volsunga Saga his name is Sigurd.

At first Siegfried did not like to wear the woollen coat and rough leather apron of a smith, for he was a prince's son and he thought the work menial; but he soon learned to respect his great teacher so much that the place took on a new dignity in his eyes and he no longer chafed at the hard work or the simple fare he shared with Regin. Early in the morning the sound of Siegfried's hammer could be heard as he worked blithely at his trade, and he almost forgot that he had ever known any other life than this one by Regin's side. When the long day was over and he sat with his master by the glowing light of the forge, Regin would tell him wonderful tales of gods and heroes and especially of the warrior race from which Siegfried sprang. Many times they sat until the last bit of fire in the forge sank into lifeless embers, and still the youth listened eagerly to the stories of brave deeds wrought by the long-dead Volsungs. The story which he never tired of hearing was that of his own birth, and in this wise did Regin always begin the tale:--

There was once a mighty king named Volsung,[40] who built a lordly palace such as men never saw before nor will ever see again; for its walls glistened with thousands of shields taken from his enemies in battle, and in the centre of the palace was a large courtyard in which grew a wonderful tree. This tree was so high that it towered above the castle walls, and its branches grew so thick that they spread like a roof over the whole palace. The king called this tree Branstock, and about its mighty trunk the Volsungs gathered to feast and sing songs in praise of their king and their race.

[40] Volsung was the son of Rerir, who was the son of Sigi,
the son of Odin.

Ten sons and one daughter were born to King Volsung, and of these the great ruler was rightly proud, for the youths bid fair to excel their kinsmen in strength and courage, while the daughter, Signy, was so famed for her beauty that suitors came from many distant lands. Now there was a certain king named Siggeir, ruler of the Goths, who wooed the fair Signy with many rich gifts, all of which the maiden coldly disdained, for she distrusted his dark, evil-looking face. King Volsung, however, was much taken with the wealth of Siggeir and his seeming generosity, and he urged his daughter to accept this giver of rich gifts. For a long time Signy refused to listen to her father's words, but at length she yielded and was betrothed to her hated suitor. Then a great feast was proclaimed throughout the kingdom, and Siggeir gave freely of his gold. The wedding banquet was served in the courtyard beneath the spreading boughs of the mighty Branstock, and the guests were so many in number that they well-nigh filled the halls to overflowing.

When the feasting and merriment were at their highest, there suddenly appeared in the midst of the revellers a tall old man. He had a blue cloak thrown over his shoulders, and his beard was long and white. Only a few of the guests caught a glimpse of his face, but those who did affirmed that he had only one eye. Stepping quickly up to King Volsung's wonderful tree, he drew from beneath his cloak a gleaming sword and drove it with great force into the tree trunk, up to the very hilt. Then turning to the astonished company, he said, "Whoso draweth this sword from the tree shall have it as a gift from me; and he shall find that he never bore in his hand a better sword than this." So saying, the old man went forth from the hall, and none knew who he was nor whither he went; but some whispered that it was Odin himself who had been among them.

Then one by one the guests of King Volsung tried to draw out the sword, but, though many of them were strong-armed warriors, not a single man had the power so much as to loosen it from the tree. King Siggeir was among the last to try his strength, and he strove until his eyes almost started from his head. But he, too, failed as the others had done, and returned to his place angered and humiliated at his defeat. When all the guests had been put to the test, and no one had drawn the sword, a certain lord said to King Volsung, "Have you no more sons?" and the king answered: "There is yet one more, but he is a mere lad. It would be cruel to shame him before so great a company." The warriors urged him, however, to summon the youth; and though anxious to spare his youngest son, the king reluctantly consented to have Siegmund[41] appear. The lad stood straight and strong and fearless before the lordly company, and asked what was the king's will. Volsung pointed to the sword, and bade young Siegmund draw it forth. To the astonishment of all beholders, the lad stepped boldly up to the Branstock, and, grasping the hilt of the sword, drew it out as easily as if it had only been in the scabbard. The guests were delighted at this evidence of Odin's favour toward an untried stripling; and they all praised Siegmund's good fortune--all but King Siggeir, who hated the youth from that day. He sought to buy the sword of Siegmund by offering him thrice its weight in gold, but the youth replied: "You might have had the sword if it were Odin's will that you should bear it. But now it shall stay mine, though you offered me all the gold you have." Then was King Siggeir filled with wrath at these scornful words and vowed vengeance against Siegmund and all the Volsungs.

[41] Spelled Sigmund in the Volsunga Saga.

When the wedding feast was over and the time came for Signy to set sail with her husband to his own land, King Siggeir spoke fair words to Volsung and his ten sons, and begged them to visit him in Gothland. Then said Signy to her father, "I pray thee, urge me not to go away with King Siggeir, for by my foreknowledge I am certain that no good will come of this marriage." But Volsung answered: "Speak not so, my daughter; and go with thy husband, for it will bring great shame to us if we fail to trust him without reason. Moreover, he will pay us back most evilly if we break faith with him for no cause." So Signy went with her husband, and they sailed away from the land of the Volsungs.

Now at the appointed time when the king had promised Siggeir to visit him in Gothland, Volsung and his ten sons put forth in the ships with a goodly following of men. After many days of pleasant voyaging, they reached the stranger's country, and came in toward the shore on the evening tide. But before they made a landing, Signy the queen came secretly to them, and begged them to return at once to their own land, for Siggeir had sworn to kill them. Her pleadings were in vain, however, for the grisly old king of the Volsungs had never yet turned his back to a foe, and he had no fear of Siggeir and his hosts. So Signy went back to the palace, and the old king with his followers waited for the dawn. At a fitting time they left the boats, and sought the way to King Siggeir's palace. They seemed a gayly dressed company that had come as guests to a marriage feast, but under their cloaks each man carried a sword--being mindful of Signy's warning.

No messenger came forth to welcome them, but as they neared the palace King Siggeir fell upon them with a great army, and neither bravery nor a good sword could withstand the assault of such numbers. The Volsungs fought hard, and with all the courage of their race, and many a Goth lay dead at the old king's feet and at the feet of his sons; but at last Volsung himself was struck down by a treacherous blow; and when his followers saw their leader dead, they lost heart for the fight. Then all of the goodly company that had come to Gothland with the king were slain by Siggeir's men, and soon none were left of all the Volsungs but the king's ten sons. These were sorely wounded, yet alive, so they were bound with chains and carried before Siggeir that he might determine by what torment they should die.

Now came Signy to the palace hall and begged their lives of the king; but Siggeir laughed at her prayers and bade his men slay the sons of Volsung before their sister's eyes. But first he took from Siegmund the coveted gift of Odin, declaring that the youth should die by a stroke from his own sword. Then Signy threw herself at the feet of her lord and begged him to grant her brothers a few more days of life. At the end of that time he might do with them as he wished, and she would plead no more. To prove that she had no thought of trying to release them, she asked that they might be chained to a certain fallen oak in the forest so that she could visit them without incurring the king's displeasure. As all of the Volsungs were wounded, and some of them suffering greatly, this idea of prolonging their torment pleased Siggeir's fancy; and he agreed to let the brothers live for a few days chained to the fallen oak; but meantime he shut Signy up in the palace under a strict watch.

Now it happened that at midnight a she-wolf came out of the heart of the forest; and, seizing upon one of the Volsungs, devoured him, and then went her way. When news of this dreadful disaster reached Signy, she begged Siggeir to put her brothers in prison; but the king only laughed again and left the Volsungs in the forest. Each night, at midnight, the she-wolf came out of the deep woods to eat one of the brothers; and this was repeated until all were devoured except Siegmund.[42] Then Signy called to her a trusted servant, and putting a pot of honey in his hand, she bade him go into the forest and smear the face and hands of her brother with the sweet liquid. The servant did as the queen instructed him; so that night, when the she-wolf came out of the forest, she smelt the sweet odour, and instead of falling upon Siegmund to tear him to pieces, she began to lick the honey from his face and hands.

[42] The she-wolf was supposed to be the mother of King
Siggeir, who had been turned into a wolf by a troll.

Some of the liquid had dripped over Siegmund's lips, and when the she-wolf thrust her greedy tongue into his mouth, he caught it firmly between his teeth and bit with all his strength. In her frantic efforts to get loose from the torturing grip, the she-wolf set her feet against the fallen tree and strained so mightily that the chain which bound Siegmund snapped in two pieces and the youth found himself free. Then he seized the wolf by the throat, and strangled her with his mere hands. Leaving the beast's body and his own torn clothes by the oak tree, he fled far into the forest.

King Siggeir believed that the last of the Volsungs had died in the same manner as his brothers; but Signy felt in her heart that Siegmund had succeeded, through her strategy, in escaping. Soon word was brought to her by her faithful servant that Siegmund was alive and in need of help; so each day she sent the messenger to the forest with food for her brother and the assurance that she would always watch over his needs. Then Siegmund built himself an underground hut in the woods, and lived as a wild man; and thither came Signy by night, for King Siggeir had granted the queen her liberty, believing that all the Volsungs were dead. Between them they plotted many things to avenge the murder of their kinsmen; but as yet their plans seemed futile, for how could one youth prevail against a king's army?

The Vengeance of the Volsungs

So, many years went by, and two sons were born to Signy and King Siggeir, both of them so like their father that the queen saw no touch of the Volsung spirit in either one, and no courage on which she could rely to help her and Siegmund in their work of vengeance. When the eldest was ten years old, his mother sent him to the forest that he might be trained by Siegmund if there were aught in him worthy of the Volsung race. When the lad came to the earth-dwelling, Siegmund saw that he had none of the right mettle in him; but he welcomed his sister's son and bade him make ready the bread for the evening meal while he himself went to seek firewood. On Siegmund's return the lad was still standing with the bag of meal in his hand, and there was no bread laid upon the coals. When Siegmund questioned him, he answered, "I dared not set hand in the sack, for there was something moving in the meal." So Siegmund sent the lad back to his mother, for he knew that such a faint-hearted youth could never help him to avenge his murdered kinsmen.

Next year Signy sent her second son into the forest; but he too was fearful of the meal, and said on Siegmund's return, "There is something alive in the sack, so I dared not touch it." Then Siegmund bade him return to his mother. Some years later another son was born to Signy who in all ways resembled the Volsungs, so tall and strong and fierce he was, yet fair of face like Siegmund. When his mother deemed him courageous enough and of hardihood enough to stand an extreme test, she sewed his shirt to his skin and then suddenly tore it off, at which the child only laughed and said, "How little would a Volsung care for such a smart as that!" Then Signy knew that she might send the lad at once to her brother; so she bade him go forthwith to the earth house in the forest.

As soon as the lad, who was called Sinfiotli, came to Siegmund's hut, he was told to knead the meal for the baking, just as his brothers had been. Then he was left alone, and when Siegmund returned from gathering firewood, the bread was ready baked and lying on the hearth. When asked if he had seen anything move in the meal, the lad replied, "Yes, I felt there was something alive in the sack, but whatever it was I have kneaded it all together with the meal."

Then Siegmund laughed and said:--

"Naught wilt thou eat of bread this night, for thou hast kneaded up the most deadly of serpents. Though I may eat of any poison and live, there is no venom which thou mayst take and remain alive."

Now Sinfiotli stayed with Siegmund in the earth-dwelling, and was trained in all things that befitted a warrior of the Volsungs. Together they roamed the wild woods, hunting, fighting wild beasts and plundering like outlaws--for in no other way could they gain wealth. Sinfiotli soon forgot the days he had spent in King Siggeir's palace and believed himself in very truth a Volsung. Now it happened that one day as they journeyed together through the forest, they came upon a certain house in which lay two men fast asleep. On the wrists and ankles of the sleepers were heavy gold rings, and over their heads hung two gray wolfskins. By this Siegmund knew that they were werewolves and that this must be the tenth night--at which time the spell is removed and the enchanted may resume their human shape.

Then Siegmund and Sinfiotli put on the wolfskins while the men lay asleep; and having once done this, they could in no way free themselves from the enchantment until the appointed time. So they rushed forth into the forest howling like wolves, though each knew the meaning of the other's cries. Having the nature of wild beasts, they went in search of prey, but before taking their separate ways, they agreed to come to each other's aid in this wise: that if more than seven men set upon either of the twain, he should howl in wolfish fashion so loud that his companion would hear him. So each went his way, and in time Siegmund met with a band of men who set upon him with spears; but he gave forth a deep, far-sounding howl that brought his fellow-wolf at once to aid him. Still in his wolfish shape, Sinfiotli killed every one of the men who had attacked Siegmund, and once more the friends parted. Before he had gone far into the woods again, Sinfiotli was suddenly surprised by eleven men with stout hunting gear; but so fiercely did he fight that in a short time the whole number were lying dead upon the ground.

As Sinfiotli, weary from the battle, lay under an oak tree, Siegmund came to him, and seeing all the dead men, straightway asked, "Why did you not howl to me for help?" And Sinfiotli answered, "I was loath to call on you for the killing of only eleven men." Then a sudden wolfish anger came over Siegmund, and he sprang upon Sinfiotli and bit him in the throat. But as soon as he saw his friend lying dead, he sorrowed greatly, and strove to bear the body on his back to the earth-house. The following day, as he lay at the door of the dwelling, he saw two weasels fighting, and one of them bit the other so that he died. Then the destroyer ran into a thicket and returned with a leaf in his mouth which he laid on the wound of the dead weasel. To Siegmund's surprise, it immediately sprang up well and whole. Then a raven flew overhead with a leaf of the same herb in his mouth, and this he dropped just at the werewolf's feet. So Siegmund took the leaf and laid it on Sinfiotli's wound, and he at once came to life again. Then the two waited until the day on which the enchantment was ended and they might cast off their wolf shapes. On this day they took the skins and burned them in the fire, that no further harm might come to any man through taking them.

Now by the time Sinfiotli had grown into manhood, Siegmund felt that the hour had come for avenging the death of the Volsungs, for he had tried the lad fully, and found no fear in him. So on a certain day they both left the earth-house and came late in the evening to King Siggeir's palace. They had no mind to walk at once into the king's presence, so they hid themselves among some casks of ale which were heaped up in the hall. While they lay thus hidden, Signy was aware of their coming; and as the king sat drinking deep she came out to them and spoke softly with them. Then they plotted together how they should slay King Siggeir, but the queen dared not stay long with them lest some servant should see her and tell it to the king.

Now that very night as the two children of Signy and the king were playing with a ball, one of the rings came off, and, rolling out into the hall, glided among the casks of ale. The children ran eagerly after it, but when they spied the two grim and well-armed men among the casks, they ran screaming to their father and told him what they had seen. Then the king grew fearful that some evil was awaiting him; and as he sat not knowing what to do, Signy led the children into the hall and said to her brother: "See, these two have betrayed you. Kill them, therefore." But Siegmund answered, "Never will I slay thy children for telling where I lay hid." Hardly had he spoken these words when Sinfiotli drew his sword and killed both the children. Then he took up the bodies and cast them at King Siggeir's feet. This sight roused such wrath in the king that he forgot his fear and ordered his men to seize hold upon the strangers and bind them with fetters.

So Siegmund and Sinfiotli were set upon by a great company of the king's men, but they fought so hard and bravely that many bodies lay dead all around them, and those who were wounded long remembered this night's fighting. At last the strangers were overpowered and bound with strong chains. Then King Siggeir had them cast into a dungeon, while he pondered all through the night as to what form of death he could mete out to them. In the morning he had a great pit dug, and in the midst of it he stood on end a flat stone that reached from one side of the pit to the other, but was so high that none could climb over it. Then he set Siegmund in the pit on one side of the flat stone, and Sinfiotli on the other, and bade his men cover over the pit with turf, that they might be buried alive. But while the servants were laying on the turf, Signy came by with a bundle of straw in her arms. This she threw into the pit to Sinfiotli, and bade the servants say no word of it to the king. Then the covering of turf was laid on, and Signy went her way again.

As soon as he judged the night had come, Sinfiotli unwrapped the bundle of straw to make himself a bed; and as he groped through the bale in the darkness he found a great lump of swine's flesh. This he tore eagerly apart, for King Siggeir had given the captives naught to eat since they were taken prisoners. Then as he was rending the flesh in pieces, his fingers suddenly closed upon some hard steel; and when he drew it forth he found in his hand a sword. It was Siegmund's sword, the gift of Odin, which Signy had concealed in the straw unknown to the king. Sinfiotli uttered a cry of joy, and grasping the hilt firmly, he drove the point of the sword into the great rock that divided him from Siegmund. So fierce a blow did he deal that the sword cut through the stone up to the hilt; and by means of the great rent which it made, the two captives were able to speak with each other.

Then Siegmund grasped the blade of the sword, and together he and Sinfiotli worked all night until they had cut the great stone in half. When dawn came, they had sawed so fiercely that the sword-blade glowed in the darkness of the pit; and yet the keenness of its edge had never dulled. Soon Siegmund had cut a way through the turf and stones that covered the pit; and he and Sinfiotli stood together in front of King Siggeir's palace. There was no sound within, for all were yet asleep; so Siegmund and Sinfiotli crept softly into the hall carrying wood in their arms; and this they placed in great piles around the sleepers. Then they kindled a fire which spread quickly through the dry leaves and wood; and the smell of it awoke the sleeping men, who looked about and wondered why so thick a smoke was filling the hall. Soon the king was wakened by the loud screams of the women, and when he saw the smoke and flame he cried out,--

"Who has kindled this fire in which I burn?"

And Siegmund answered him from without the hall, "It is I, Siegmund the Volsung, with Sinfiotli, my sister's son; and now thou mayst know at last that all of my race are not dead."

Then he closed and barred the palace doors that none might escape, but first he begged Signy to come quickly out of the hall lest she should perish in the flames. And when she did not come, he offered her rich gifts and a place of honour among her own people; but Signy stood by the king's side and answered:--

"I have kept well in memory the slaying of the Volsungs, and that it was King Siggeir who wrought the shameful deed. I sent two of my sons into the forest to learn how to avenge the wrong, and then came unto thee Sinfiotli who is a Volsung and none of King Siggeir's race. I also bade thee kill my young children, since their words had betrayed thee. For this and naught else have I wrought all these years that Siggeir might get his bane at last. Now vengeance has fallen upon him, but let the end come also to me, for merrily will I die with King Siggeir, though I was not merry to wed with him."

So Signy perished in the fire with her husband, and many died with them that the wrath of Siegmund the Volsung might be satisfied. Then he gathered together a great company of folk, and filled many ships with the treasures of King Siggeir, and with Sinfiotli he set sail for his own land. When he reached the country of the Volsungs, he found that a neighbouring king had usurped the throne, and was reigning in the old king's stead. Siegmund drove him from the country and himself took the throne of his father, where he ruled thereafter for many years. He and Sinfiotli waged war with other kings, and their fame spread abroad throughout the land. None could equal them in strength and valour, and of all the Volsungs King Siegmund bade fair to be greatest in renown.

* * * * *

As Regin spoke these last words, he turned to the youth at his side and smiled when he saw the glow of pride that shone in Siegfried's face as the master spoke of the brave deeds of the Volsungs.

"Shall I tell you the rest of the tale, and of how the sword of Odin failed your father in his need?" he asked, knowing well the answer Siegfried would make. Then the youth laid new coals on the fire; and the master resumed the oft-told tale.

The Magic Sword

So Siegmund became a mighty king,--said Regin,--and was known far and wide as the giver of rich gifts. In time of war he fought with Sinfiotli at his side; and when peace reigned in the kingdom, the son of Signy sat in the seat of honour by the king's throne. Now Sinfiotli loved a fair woman who was also wooed by the brother of Borghild, Siegmund's queen; and when they fought this matter out between them, Sinfiotli killed the queen's brother and took the maiden for his wife. Then Borghild demanded that the slayer be driven out of the kingdom because of this deed; but Siegmund said that the man was killed in fair fight, and therefore Sinfiotli should not pay the forfeit of banishment. Hoping to soften the queen's anger, he offered her gold and treasure as payment for her brother's life, but she would have none of it. Seeing, however, that she could not win her way with the king, she pretended to forgive the deed; and asked both Siegmund and Sinfiotli to the funeral feast which she held in her brother's honour.

There were many guests gathered to the feast, and Borghild, the queen, brought drink to each one. When she came to Sinfiotli with the great horn in her hand, she said, "Drink now, fair stepson." But when the youth looked into the horn he answered, "Nay, I will not, for the drink is charmed." Then the queen laughed and handed the horn to Siegmund, who drank the ale to the last drop, for no poison nor charmed drink could work him any harm. A second time did Borghild come to Sinfiotli with the horn in her hand offering him drink, and again he refused it, saying, "Guile is in the drink." So Siegmund took the horn and emptied it while the queen taunted Sinfiotli with his fears and said, "Why must other men drink thine ale for thee?" A third time Borghild came with the horn, and she goaded Sinfiotli with these words, "Drink now, if there is in thee the heart of a Volsung." So he took the horn, but when he looked into it, he said, "Venom is therein."

Now by this time Siegmund was so dazed with drinking that he had forgotten the queen's former hatred for her brother's slayer, and he cried to Sinfiotli, "Drink and fear naught." So Sinfiotli drank, and straightway fell down dead. When Siegmund saw the youth lying dead at his feet, his senses returned to him, and he sorrowed greatly over the words he had spoken. Then he lifted the body of Sinfiotli in his arms and bore it out of the palace hall while the funeral guests sat silent, none daring to intrude upon the king's sorrow. Now Siegmund fared on through the woods till he came to the seashore, and here he found a little boat with an old man seated at the oars. The man wore a dark blue cloak, and his hat was drawn down over his face; but Siegmund saw none of this, for his thoughts were with his dead companion. The old man asked if they would be ferried to the other side of the bay, and Siegmund came with his burden to the water's edge. The little boat could not hold them all, so Siegmund laid the body of Sinfiotli beside the ferryman. But as soon as it was placed within, both the boat and the old man vanished, and Siegmund found himself alone. Yet his heart was full of gladness, for he knew that it was Odin himself who had come to take another Volsung to join the heroes in Valhalla. Then Siegmund returned to his own hall, and so hateful did the queen become in his eyes that he could bear the sight of her no longer and drove her forth from the palace. Not many months after this, word was brought to him that Borghild was dead.

Now there lived in a neighbouring country a wealthy king who had a daughter named Hiordis--the fairest and wisest among women. When Siegmund heard of the maiden's beauty, he desired to wed her, though he himself was now well on in years. So he chose the bravest warriors of his court, and with his horses well-loaded with gifts, he set out for the country where Hiordis lived. At her father's palace he was royally welcomed, and his proposals were received with favour; but there was another king suing for the maiden's hand, so no promise could be given to Siegmund. The father of Hiordis feared that, whichever of the suitors was rejected, war and trouble would arise, and therefore he knew not how to answer them. So he went to his daughter and said: "You are a wise woman, and I will let this matter rest in your hands. Choose a husband for yourself, and I will abide by your choice though my whole kingdom be plunged into warfare." Then Hiordis answered, "Though King Lyngi is far younger than Siegmund, yet I will choose Siegmund for my husband, for his fame as a warrior is greater and we can rely upon his strength." So Hiordis was wedded to Siegmund the Volsung, and a great feast was held which lasted many days. King Lyngi departed to his own country, but Siegmund knew that he would hear of him again. After the wedding festivities were over, the Volsungs returned home; but they had been there only a few days before word was sent to Siegmund that King Lyngi had landed on his coast with a host of followers, and demanded that the Volsungs should meet him in battle.

Siegmund knew well that a great army had come against him, yet he answered that he would fight until no man was left in his kingdom; and accordingly he gathered his army together and met the forces of King Lyngi in an open field. The enemy rushed from their boats in such numbers that it seemed as if there was no end to them; and Siegmund saw that his followers would be no match for the great horde of fighting men that swept down from the enemy's ships. Nevertheless the Volsungs fought bravely when the horns blew that called the men to battle, and Siegmund, at the head of his army, cheered his followers on to the fight. He rushed boldly through the ranks of the foe, and no helmet or shield could withstand the stroke of his sword. So fiercely did he fight that none could tell the tale of those who fell before him, and his arms were red with blood even to the shoulders.

Now when the battle had raged a long while, there came a strange man suddenly into the midst of the fight. He had a blue cloak upon his shoulders, and a slouched hat was pulled down over his face so that none might see he had only one eye. He advanced upon Siegmund with a shield held aloft; and the leader of the Volsungs--now sore spent with battle--knew not who the stranger might be, so he smote upon the upraised shield with all his strength. Never yet had the magic sword failed him in battle, but now it broke in half, and as its pieces fell to the ground, the stranger in the blue cloak disappeared. Then Siegmund knew who it was that had come against him, and he lost all heart for the fight. His men fell fast all around him, and although he fought on bravely, as became a Volsung, he saw that the battle was already lost. Soon he himself received a mortal wound, and when his men saw their leader drop from the ranks, they had no longer any hope of victory, and died fighting half-heartedly beside the fallen Siegmund.

Now Hiordis had left the palace with her handmaid when the battle first began, and she lay hidden in the forest where none of King Lyngi's people might find her. She had brought with her from the palace as much gold and treasure as she and her bondwoman could carry, that the conquering host might not enjoy the whole of Siegmund's wealth. When most of the Volsungs had fallen in battle, and King Lyngi knew himself victor, he hurried to the palace to take possession of Siegmund's riches and also Siegmund's queen. But when he entered the palace, he found everything in confusion. The treasure chests had been emptied, and none of the frightened servants could tell him what had happened nor where the queen might be found. So King Lyngi contented himself with what riches he found, and that night his followers made merry in the halls of the Volsung, drinking ale and boasting of the day's victory.

When Hiordis heard the noise of the midnight revels, she crept out of her hiding-place and sought for Siegmund among the countless dead. The battle-field was a gruesome place, and she groped blindly and fearfully among the wounded, hoping that it might be here and not among the dead that she would find her lord. At last she came upon Siegmund, and tried to staunch the blood that still flowed from his wounds; but he put her aside, saying, "I will not suffer myself to be healed, since Odin wills that I should never draw sword again." Then the queen wept softly and answered, "If thou diest, who will then avenge us?" And Siegmund said: "Fear not that the last of the Volsungs has stood to do mighty deeds, for a son will be born to thee and me who shall be greater than all those who have been before him. Cherish carefully the pieces of Odin's sword which lie here beside me, for of these shall a goodly sword be made, and our son shall bear it, and with it he shall work many a great work so that his name shall be honoured as long as the world endures. Go now, for I grow weary with my wounds and would fain follow my kinsmen. Soon I shall be with all the Volsungs who have gone before me."