Chapter II: Introduction (2)

The moon was shining brightly on this warm night in early spring. The wide world seemed to beckon her two children forth; and answering her summons and the glad call of their own hearts they fled away.

King Wotan knew of all these things. He knew that his dearly loved son Siegmund had found the magic sword, and had fled from the hunter's home. He foresaw also that the hunter would rise up full of wrath the next day, and pursue Siegmund to kill him. This must be prevented. The god summoned Brunhilde before him.

"Wisest and fairest of War Maidens," he said, "in yonder mountain gorge thou wilt discover a young man and a maiden who are dear to me. The maiden has been stolen away from a hunter who held her against her will, and the hunter now pursues the young man with intent to slay him. It is my will that he be not slain, but that he gain the victory over the hunter. See thou to it!"

Brunhilde gladly listened to Wotan's behest.

"It shall be done as thou desirest!" she exclaimed. "Hoyo-to-ho!"--the musical shout of the War Maidens came from her lips as she sprang from cliff to cliff and disappeared.

But she had hardly gone before Fricka, Wotan's queen, entered in a chariot drawn by two rams. Now Fricka was goddess of love and justice, and it grieved her that Siegmund should be allowed to take Sieglinde away with him as he had done.

"Justice, O Wotan!" she cried, "against the young man Siegmund! The hunter from whose house he fled away, carrying the maiden Sieglinde, has called to me for help, and I have promised to aid him."

"The hunter held the maid against her will," replied Wotan.

"Nathless his right to her had become recognised among men. So she must be restored to him, else men will say that there is no justice in the world."

Wotan's brow was wrinkled moodily. He knew that Sieglinde had dwelt so many years under the hunter's roof that all men believed she rightfully belonged there. Yet in his heart he longed to protect his son.

Fricka saw the struggle but would not relent. She added many words to what she had said and urged her case so strongly that every law the gods had made seemed enlisted in the hunter's cause. At last Wotan, heavy in spirit, agreed to give the victory to him.

After Fricka had departed, he called Brunhilde again to him and told her of his last decision. Brunhilde was full of grief when she learned that she must aid the hunter against Siegmund.

"Why dost thou do this, O father?" she asked gently.

"Because the laws of the gods demand it," he answered.

Then the sorrow-stricken Wotan unburdened his heart to her and told her of the Rhine-Gold; of the Ring that had been fashioned from it; of the curse that had followed; and of many other things which we have set forth in this book.

"The curse of the Ring is the fate of Siegmund," he concluded. "That is why I am powerless to protect him. See that thou dost obey my latest command!"

So saying he departed, amid the rumblings of a thunder-cloud, leaving Brunhilde full of sorrow at the strange tale she had heard and the sad errand she must perform.

But she turned her steps dutifully down the mountain gorge, and there in a sheltering cave she found the young man and maiden. Sieglinde had become tired out from their wanderings, and Siegmund had borne her into the cave and was supporting her head upon his knee, while smoothing back the stray locks of gold from her lovely forehead. So intent was he upon this devotion that he did not see Brunhilde when she came into the entrance.

If the War Maiden had longed to befriend these two before she saw them, how much more did her heart soften when she beheld this sweet picture! But her duty must be done. She called softly to Siegmund and he raised his head.

"I am the War Maiden," she said, "and am sent to warn thee of thy fate. Thine enemy follows hard upon thy heels; and none who look upon my face survive a battle."

"I fear not for the battle," answered Siegmund stoutly. "This magic sword was left me by my father, and with it I must surely be victorious!"

"It will avail thee not; for the gods have decreed that thou must die. But glory awaits thee in Walhalla, whither I am summoned to bear thee after death."

"What is Walhalla?" he asked.

"It is the Hall of Heroes, among whom thou wilt be first."

"Will I find my father there, and my sweet comrade Sieglinde?"

The search for these two had consumed the youthful warrior's whole life, so his voice trembled eagerly as he asked this question.

Brunhilde smiled, then shook her head sadly.

"Thy father?--Yes, in Walhalla shalt thou find him. But Sieglinde cannot come to thee there."

"Then take my greetings to Walhalla!" he exclaimed.

"Greet for me Wotan!
Hail to my father
And all the heroes!
Hail the War Maidens;
For now I follow not thee!"

By this time Brunhilde's heart had become so touched that she boldly resolved to disobey Wotan's last command, and do as he really desired. Smiling upon Siegmund, she bade him be of good heart, as she had only been testing his courage. Then she told him she would be with him and aid him in the coming strife.

Even while she spoke the hunter's horn was heard, and soon the man himself came hastening fiercely along. He did not see Siegmund at first, for a heavy storm had come up, while the heavens seemed rent with terrific crashes of thunder. The din finally aroused the sleeping Sieglinde, and she gazed around wildly. Siegmund had sprung out of the cave to confront his enemy; and there in front of the cave he stood revealed by a flash of lightning battling strongly with the hunter. Sieglinde uttered a cry of grief and was about to rush between them when another sudden blaze of light made her draw back. At one side she beheld the War Maiden standing ready to protect Siegmund. The young man pressed upon the hunter and was about to strike him to the earth with his trusty sword, when a glowing red flame burst through the clouds. Wotan himself appeared with his dread Spear and stretched it across the sword. The magic blade broke in sunder, and Siegmund fell dead, pierced by the hunter's weapon. But the hunter himself did not survive the conflict, for a glance from the single blazing eye of the angry god stretched him lifeless on the sward.

When Wotan appeared, Brunhilde started back amazed and fearful. She began to realise what it meant to disobey the god's command. Hastily seizing the fainting form of Sieglinde she sprang upon her winged steed and fled swiftly from the tragic scene. Far and fast through the storm she sped, glancing around fearfully ever and anon, and fancying each rumble of the thunder was Wotan's voice. Then she turned her horse's head toward the summit of a lofty crag. It was the usual meeting-place of all the War Maidens on their way to Walhalla. Soon the crag came in sight, and there awaiting her were her eight companions, hailing her swift approach with "Hoyo-to-ho!" their battle cry.

Hardly taking time to answer their joyous greetings, Brunhilde placed Sieglinde gently on the ground and cried,

"Save us, O my sister! Save us from the wrath of Wotan!"

"Why, what crime hast thou committed?" cried the other War Maidens in alarm.

"I have disobeyed the god's command, and even now he rides hard after me upon the wings of the tempest! Save this innocent mortal, at least! She has done no wrong."

"I do not wish for life!" exclaimed Sieglinde, who had just recovered consciousness. "Why should I live when Siegmund is dead? I pray you draw your sword and slay me!"

"Not so," said Brunhilde soothingly. "The Fates decree that thou must live. And see, I have saved for thee the Sword of Need which was broken in Siegmund's hands. Keep it for his son, the hero who shall know no fear, and he shall do mighty deeds with its mended blade."

So saying Brunhilde drew from the folds of her cloak the two pieces of the broken sword and gave them to Sieglinde and whispered in her ear words of tenderness and balm. And Sieglinde's face lost its hopeless look, and she promised to go wherever the War Maiden might direct.

"Haste thee, then!" urged Brunhilde. "The time is short. In only one place wilt thou be safe from Wotan, and that is the depth of yonder forest. There dwells Fafner the dragon, and there Wotan never ventures because of the curse of the Ring."

The tempest had increased in fury while Brunhilde was speaking. The dense darkness shielded Sieglinde while she hurried away. She was scarce gone, hugging the precious sword, when a terrific clap of thunder shook the whole cliff and Wotan appeared in a flash of light.

"Brunhilde! Brunhilde!" he called.

Brunhilde did not answer; and the other War Maidens, braving his anger through loyalty and love for their sister, hid her in their midst.

"Brunhilde!" again thundered Wotan, "stand forth! Art afraid to hear thy doom?"

"Not so, O mighty father!" replied Brunhilde; and she stepped forward proudly and knelt at his feet.

"Ah, Brunhilde! how couldst thou disobey my command?" asked Wotan more in sadness than in anger. "Thou hast brought thy fate upon thyself."

"I but tried to save one who was dear to thee," she answered.

"But thou didst violate my will, and henceforth can be a War Maiden no more. Thou must descend to earth, lose thy immortality, and live the life of any other woman."

On hearing this terrible decree, by which she lost the rank of goddess, Brunhilde sank upon the ground with a piteous cry.

"Have mercy, O Wotan!" she pleaded. "I tried to meet the wishes of thy heart, as given in thy first command. Do not banish me for ever from my dear sisters and thy beloved presence. Have mercy!"

"Have mercy!" cried her sisters stretching out their hands toward the god.

"Silence!" said Wotan solemnly. "I have spoken, and it must be done. Ah, dearly loved maiden, how gladly would I save thee if it were so decreed! But thou must sink to the ground in deep sleep. And it shall come to pass that in after years the man who shall awaken thee shall claim thee for his bride."

"As for ye other maidens," he continued, glancing around with a flash of the eye, "beware how ye fail to keep faith with me again! And come not again into my presence this day."

The War Maidens fled in woe and terror at this speech, leaving Brunhilde and Wotan alone upon the rock. The sky was clearing, the wind was dying away, and the moon came forth and looked down upon the scene. There was silence for many long moments, until Brunhilde, unable to endure it, rose slowly to her feet in all her beauty and pride, yet with wild entreaty in her voice.

"Oh, father, father!" she pleaded, "save me from this fate, for the honour of all the gods! Do not place me within reach of any coward among men, who might chance to awaken me. If I must fall asleep to wake a mortal woman, grant me this last request. Place me in some spot so hedged about with danger that none but the bravest of all men may find me and claim me for his own!"

Wotan gazed at her--all the old love and pride for her shining in his eyes. He gently drew her to him and kissed her upon the eyelids.

"It shall be as thou dost wish," he said. "I shall shield thee with a barrier of living fire so that none save a true hero can rescue thee. And now farewell, my darling child! How I shall miss thee in Walhalla, and on our rides of glory, thou dost little know. Farewell! farewell!"

Brunhilde clasped her arms about his neck and smiled for the last time in his face. He bent down and kissed her again, and yet again. A deep sleep came over her and she sank slowly down. Wotan carried her tenderly to a low mound of moss upon the very crest of the towering rock, and there he placed his shield over her to protect her from all harm. Again he gazed long and mournfully on her features, then closed the visor of the helmet she wore, and turning began a mystic waving of his Spear of Authority. He ended by summoning Loki, god of fire.

"Loki, hark,
Hitherward haste,
As I found thee first,
In a fiery waste;
As once thou didst fly
In fiery display;
As then I did call thee
I call thee to-day!
Arise with thy flaming--
Encircle this place,
To daunt the craven
Whom my spear could not face!
Loki! Loki! arise!"

At the last call he struck the rock thrice with his Spear, and instantly a stream of fire gushed forth and licked upward in tongues of flame from every side. Higher and wider they spread, leaping and crackling till they formed a complete circle round the mossy bed where Brunhilde lay sleeping. And as they swept upward in the night air they seemed to blend in strains of music sweet as the thrumming of a harp and soft as the lullaby of a mother crooning her child to sleep.

*PART III*

*SIEGFRIED THE FEARLESS*

Several years passed by while Brunhilde lay in her enchanted sleep. Summers and winters came and went, yet still she lay there unharmed in her magic circle of fire, and growing no whit older than when she first sank down in slumber, in all her youth and beauty.

Down in the depths of the forest far below the crag on which she rested, Fafner the dragon still guarded the Rhine-Gold and Ring. He had come to be known only as the dragon, because--giant though he was--he had always been afraid to leave this hideous shape lest someone should overcome him and seize the treasure.

And he had good cause to fear. Although the Gold bore a curse with it, there was more than one who sought to lay hand upon it. Wotan the mighty had even forsaken the beautiful palace of Walhalla which cost him so much, and was now roaming over the earth seeking some hero to slay the dragon. He had indeed come to be known as the "Wanderer" because of his constant search. The dwarfs also had by no means forgotten the glittering hoard which had been taken away from them. Alberich went about in sullen discontent, biding his time; while Mime, his brother who had made the magic helmet, could not forget the Gold night or day. Mime knew where the dragon lay hid, so he set about laying plans to outwit or slay him.

Now the dwarfs had always lived deep down in the caves of the earth. They had seemed actually afraid of the sunlight, and it may be that they were afraid of their own shadows, for no greater cowards ever lived. But with all their cowardice they were sly, and had a wonderful faculty of finding out all sorts of secrets. Mime had discovered the whole story of the Gold, the helmet, the Ring, the curse, the building of Walhalla, and the dread which had fallen upon the gods. He learned of all this and many other things; and he laughed and rubbed his hands craftily.

"Aha!" he said, "_I_ will find a way to seize the Ring and rule the whole world! I will watch this dragon day and night, and sooner or later I shall surprise him."

So Mime the dwarf summoned up courage enough to appear above ground. He betook himself to Fafner's forest, where he soon found the huge monster crouched before the door of his cave. For many days and nights Mime lay hid, waiting for a chance to slip past the great beast, but no such chance came.

"I shall have to kill him," said Mime to himself. And at the bare thought his teeth chattered with fear. "But even if I had a sword stout enough and long enough to reach his heart, I should never have courage enough to wield it."

This thought was very discouraging to him, yet he was unwilling to give up hope of the Gold. For many more days he pondered and plotted, till at last he thought of a plan.

"I have it!" he exclaimed slapping his thigh. "I shall build a blacksmith's forge hard by here in the wood, where I shall make nothing but swords. At last my skill will bring forth the best blade in the world, and I shall offer it to the mightiest hero who may come riding by. Who knows? Perhaps one will be found brave enough to fight the dragon, when I tell him just how to do it. Then after he kills the dragon--we will see!"

He chuckled at the cunning plan he had made, while the evil light in his eyes boded no good for the after fate of the chosen hero.

This plan seemed wild, yet it was the best that offered, so Mime began at once. He built his smithy, and having been used to this trade all his life in the under-world, he speedily felt quite at home. Soon his forge-fires shone brightly through the forest, and the sound of his hammering disturbed the birds and beasts.

One day during a lull in his work he heard a faint tap at his door. He asked harshly who was there, but receiving no reply he peered cautiously outside. There on the threshold lay a poor woman feebly holding a little child in her arms. Her strength seemed spent, and even the rough Mime felt pity for her distress. He carried her into the smithy and laid her near the forge-fire, then hastened to pour some cordial down her throat. The drink revived her slightly and she sat up and tried to lift the child.

"Take care of him," she gasped. "His name is Siegfried. He comes from a race of heroes."

"How am I to know that he is of hero born?" asked the dwarf bluntly.

"Here, here!" she answered eagerly, drawing some fragments of a sword from the folds of her dress. "It was his father's sword--the wonderful Sword of Need. Keep it safe for him and he shall do--mighty--deeds----"

Her voice trailed into silence, and the dwarf bending down perceived that she was dead.

It was poor Sieglinde who had hid away from the wrath of Wotan, as Brunhilde had bidden her. At last her sad life was ended, and perchance her spirit found peace with that of Siegmund in some happier clime.

Mime now turned his attention to the little child for the first time. He saw that its limbs were sturdily knit, and that already it held its head erect and looked one squarely in the eye--which was more than the dwarf had ever done in his whole life.

"Who knows?" muttered Mime. "This may be the hero for whom I have been waiting. I will bring him up as my son, and train him to my set purpose. At any-rate he could soon be useful blowing the fire."

So he adopted the little Siegfried and cared for him, during his helpless days, in a dwarf's rude way. He hollowed out a log for the baby's cradle, and spread a bearskin over it. He gave him goat's milk to drink, and let him play with the broken handles of swords. Every fair morning he carried him out into the bright sunshine and left him to kick his heels and shout back answers to the singing birds. But the dwarf himself rarely ventured outdoors. He seemed to prefer the soot and smoke of his forge-fire. He hammered away, and hummed a moody tune, and took comfort in thinking of the day when this foster-child should be sent to slay the dragon.

But if Mime had expected the lad to mend the fires and work in the shop, he soon found himself mistaken. The little fellow thrived wonderfully and took to the life of the forest naturally. On the other hand, he had no use for the forge or, it must be confessed, for his foster-father. He soon came to despise the dwarf as a coward, for he himself showed no fear of anything. So he roamed every day in the forest returning only at nightfall with some animal he had slain. Once he harnessed a wild bear with ropes and drove it into the blacksmith's shop, nearly causing Mime to fly out of his wits from terror.

When Siegfried arrived at young manhood he was a goodly sight to look upon. His limbs were strong and powerful, yet rounded and graceful. His skin was tinged with the ruddy hue of outdoor life. His fair hair fell in soft curls to his shoulders, as the manner then was; and his blue eyes met one's look frankly and fearlessly.

Though he had been taught to look upon Mime as his father, Siegfried soon rejected this belief with scorn. He felt no love for the dwarf, such as a son would feel; and he could not help contrasting his own powerful frame and courage with the smith's weak, cringing way. The only tie which now bound them together was a promise made by the dwarf that he would forge a sword with which Siegfried could win every battle. The young man waited impatiently for this sword to be made; and Mime actually worked early and late to finish it. But alas! no sooner would he temper a blade so that it seemed perfect, when Siegfried would return from the chase and say,

"Ho! _this_ is the sword you have made for me to-day!"

And he would shiver it to bits upon the anvil.

This went on day after day, until Siegfried lost all patience and began to threaten the dwarf.

"Hark you, Mime!" he cried. "Give me the stout blade you promised, or it will not go well with you to-morrow night."

"You would not harm your father!" whined the dwarf. "Remember how I have cared for you and sheltered you."

"I have long since paid that score in meat and skins," answered Siegfried. "And as for you being my father, you know that is false. Answer me directly! I would know who my father was!"

His manner was so threatening that the dwarf was thoroughly frightened.

"I--I--do not know who your father was," he stammered; "your mother was Sieglinde, a poor woman whom I sheltered here when you were a baby. She gave me an old broken sword. See, here it is!"

And he rummaged beneath a pile of skins and brought to light the pieces of the magic Sword of Need.

"Ha! that is good metal!" cried Siegfried, as he examined it. "I will have no sword but this. See to it that 'tis mended for me 'gainst another night."

The smith promised, though in a quaking voice, for he was by no means certain that he could mend the weapon. His fears were well founded. When he tried to do so, the next day, the pieces refused to unite in his hands. After making repeated attempts he sank down behind the anvil in despair.

At this moment a strange-looking man entered the doorway. He was tall and powerful. He wore a long dark cloak, and carried a spear instead of a staff. On his head was a large hat whose broad brim shaded one eye that was evidently injured or missing.

"The Wanderer!" muttered the dwarf in abject fear.

It was indeed Wotan the Wanderer.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded in a voice of thunder, pointing to the broken blade.

"I--I am trying to mend the--the Sword of Need," said the dwarf. He knew there was no use in telling an untruth, as Wotan had already recognised the weapon.

"Where did you get it?" Wotan asked.

"'Twas given me by Sieglinde the mother of Siegfried. Mercy, mercy! I cannot mend it!"

"Peace, fool! You speak truth. No one but the hero who knows no fear can weld those pieces together!"

So saying he struck his spear upon the floor with a noise like thunder and turning strode away into the forest.

Mime dared not look after him or ask any questions. Indeed, he was in such utter terror that he did not venture from behind the anvil, where he lay hid all day. And here it was that Siegfried found him when he returned home.

"Mime, have you got my sword done yet?" he called.

"Pardon! pardon!" whined the dwarf. "Oh, I have had such an awful scare!"

"A scare? What is that?" asked Siegfried.

"I mean, I have been in dreadful fear," answered Mime.

"Fear? What is that?" asked Siegfried.

"Know you not what fear is?" said Mime, starting up and remembering Wotan's words that only the hero who knew no fear could mend the sword.

The young man shook his head.

Mime pressed the subject further. "Suppose you should meet a great monster in the forest," he said; "a huge dragon whose eyes and mouth shot fire, whose tail lashed this way and that, tearing down the trees, whose tongue was sharp as a sword, and whose terrible fangs could crush you like an insect. Suppose this terrible dragon should come rushing down to devour you. How would you feel?"

"There is no such beast as that," replied Siegfried smiling.

"Oh, but there is!" urged the dwarf, his own eyes growing big with alarm as he thought of Fafner. "There is! Down in the depths of this very forest lurks a dragon ten times more dreadful than I have said. He lies crouched in a thicket before a cave, and even the gods are afraid to come near him."

"Then he would be worth fighting!" exclaimed Siegfried with flashing eyes. "Forge me this sword as you promised, and then show me the way to his lair!"

"I cannot mend the blade," confessed Mime sullenly. "Only he who has no fear in his heart can mend it or wield it."

Siegfried glanced at him a moment in anger; then as if despairing of getting the dwarf to do the work, he seized the fragments with one hand and the bellows with the other.

"Stand aside!" he commanded. "I will mend the blade."

And he set to work while the dwarf looked on in wonder.

First Siegfried took a file and began rubbing the steel into fine powder.

"Stop!" screamed the dwarf. "You are ruining it."

"Oh, no, I am not," laughed Siegfried, filing the faster.

Soon the sword, all but the handle, was changed into powder. Then Siegfried placed the powder over the fire and blew a bright blaze underneath it. And as he worked the bellows he sang from pure joy in his work,

"Hoho! hoho!
Hahei! hahei!
Bellows blow
The blaze on high!
Deep in the wood
There lived a tree:
Its ashes here
In the flames I see,

Hoho! hoho!
Hahei! hahei!
Bellows blow:
The tree must die!
But the flashing fire
Hath won its way;
It sputters and flares
In the metal's spray.

Hoho! hoho!
Hahei! hahei!
Bellows blow
The flame on high!
The Sword of Need
Will soon be made
And then aloft
I shall flash my blade!"

When he finished the song the powder had become a molten mass. He ran this into a mould and plunged it into the water. The loud hiss of cooling metal was heard. Presently he seized the new blade with a pair of pincers and heated it red hot. Allowing it to remain but a moment in the coals, he placed it upon the anvil and beat it mighty blows till the blade was sharp and thin. Then heating it once again he fastened it to the handle.

He swung the weapon critically and tested its temper. Again he heated it, and beat it till the shop was filled with flying sparks. But now it emerged bright and keen--the most perfect blade in all the world. Triumphantly he sang,

"Ah, Sword of Need!
Anew thou art wrought;
Back unto life and strength
Thou art brought!"

"See, Mime! _This_ is the sword I wished you to forge!"

And making the sword whistle about his head he brought it down squarely upon the anvil. From top to bottom the heavy anvil was cleaved, falling into two pieces with a thunderous noise.

"Farewell!" cried Siegfried; "the smithy sees me no more from this day. I go to seek the dragon!" And he hurried forth with his wonderful new sword into the forest.

"Wait a moment!" called Mime, running after him; "you cannot find the cave unless I show you the way."

"I thought you were too great a coward for that," laughed Siegfried.

"Who's afraid?" panted the dwarf as he caught up with him. "Besides I am only going to point out the place. You are the one that's going to be eaten!"

In fact Mime was quite anxious to have the young man meet the dragon. No matter how the fight turned out, he reasoned that he himself would be the gainer. In the event of Siegfried killing the beast and escaping unharmed, Mime intended to give him a poisonous draught which he had prepared. Then with both these foes out of the way, the dwarf believed that the wonderful Gold of the curse would be his without any further struggle.

But in this Mime was wrong, for his brother Alberich, who had first stolen the Gold from the Rhine-maidens, was even then watching the dragon's cave and had been on guard there night and day. Wotan the Wanderer found him there upon this day of fate, and unheeding the dwarf's taunts and reproaches told him of Siegfried's and Mime's approach. Alberich now hid behind some rocks to watch what should happen.

"See, that is the cave," said Mime, pointing it out to Siegfried when they were still some distance away. "I can go no farther, as I am very tired from running to catch up with you. But go straight ahead, and I wish you success--and the dragon an equal amount!" The last words he muttered to himself, then scurried for a safe place where he could watch the fight.

It was a beautiful morning, and the birds were carolling sweetly in the tree-tops. Siegfried cast himself down upon the sward to rest himself and enjoy the quiet sylvan scene a little while. The birds seemed to be talking to him. He could not understand their sweet language, but he tried to imitate it upon a reed whistle. Failing in his attempt he seized the horn which was slung around his shoulders and blew a loud clear note as a challenge to the dragon. At once a tremendous crashing sound was heard in a near-by thicket.

"Ah! that must be the dragon!" said Siegfried craning his neck without getting up.

Again he heard the roar, followed by a terrible snorting and hissing and yawning, and out came a huge lizard-like serpent plunging through the underbrush toward him.

"Who are you?" it growled.

"Oh, you can talk, can you?" said Siegfried. "I am a man who has been sent to you to learn what fear is."

"You will find out if you live long enough!" roared the dragon showing its fangs and licking out a long forked tongue. "I will devour you in two mouthfuls."

"Oh no!" laughed Siegfried. "I object. But if you do not teach me what fear is, it will be the worse for you!"

This taunt angered the dragon, as Siegfried intended. It sprang forward, lashed about with its tail and poured forth flame and smoke from its nostrils. Siegfried leaped easily to one side and evaded both dangers. The dragon turned upon him at close range and struck again with its tail. Siegfried vaulted high in the air, so that the tail swept the ground smoothly under him without touching. Quick as a flash he smote the scaly back with his keen sword, so that the black blood poured forth in torrents. The dragon uttered loud bellows of rage and pain, and reared upon Siegfried with the forepart of its body in order to crush him; but as it reared, its breast was exposed, and Siegfried was swift to seize his advantage. With a powerful blow he drove the Sword of Need up to the hilt in the monster's heart.

"Woe is me!" gasped the dragon rolling upon the earth in a dying condition. "Reckless youth, do you know what you have done?"

"I know I have slain a foul beast because he would not teach me fear."

"Ah, I perceive you are the tool of others," said the dragon in a weak voice. "Know then that I am Fafner, the last of the giants' race. I guarded the Rhine-Gold; but beware of it! a curse follows all who possess it! Beware!"

Then with a dreadful groan the dragon expired.

Siegfried drew his sword from its breast, and as he did so a drop of blood fell upon his hand. It burned like a coal of fire, and instinctively he licked it with his tongue to stop the pain. Suddenly a strange new power came upon him. He knew not what it was, but stood silent and amazed waiting to discover what it could be. Then in the silence a bird sang to him from a linden-tree--the same song he had heard before; but this time he could understand it! It was as though the bird were speaking his own tongue!

"The Rhine-Gold is now yours," it sang. "There in the cave you will find it. Be careful to take also the helmet of darkness and the Ring of Power."

Siegfried thanked the friendly bird, and hastened into the cave. While he was gone, Mime and Alberich crept up and for the first time became aware of each other's presence. A violent quarrel at once began as to which should claim the treasure, but it was speedily silenced by the return of Siegfried clad in shining armour and bearing the helmet and Ring. The two dwarfs slunk away again unperceived by the young man, who walked thoughtfully along listening to the wood-bird, which had recommenced its song. And these were the words of the song:

"Ha! Siegfried now holds
Both the helmet and the Ring;
Beware of sly Mime--
Trust him not in anything!"

Siegfried again thanked the bird for its warning, which was indeed timely; for Mime now approached him with great pretended delight in his safety.

"Have you learned what fear is?" he asked with a grin.

"No, I have not," answered Siegfried.

"Then sit you down and rest, bravest of men!" said the dwarf. "And see, here is a cooling cup of mead I have brought for you. It will quiet you and cause you to forget your weariness."

"It is poison," retorted the young man. "Thanks to the dragon's blood, I can read all your wicked heart! Wretch, take your just deserts!"

With that he dashed the poison cup to the ground, and stretched the dwarf, with one blow, dead at his feet.

"It was his life or mine at the last," he said, as he wended his way thoughtfully into the forest. In spite of his victory over the dragon, he was not elated. Instead, he was thinking how barren his life had been without friends or kindred, and how aimless it seemed even now, despite the Gold. Sighing heavily he sat down upon a log and buried his face in his hands.

"Lonely, lonely! Of all men I am most lonely!" he cried.

"Would you find a love to comfort you?" sang the clear voice of the bird over his head. "I know where you might find the fairest lady in all the world.

"On a lofty crag she sleeps,
Her guard is a flaming fire;
And he must bravely pierce the blaze
Who would win his heart's desire."

Siegfried sprang to his feet. "This quest is to my liking! Tell me more about it!" he exclaimed.

"The bride to win,
Brunhilde to wake,
Is no coward's task,
Or whom fear doth shake."

Thus sang the wood-bird again, and Siegfried listened to him joyfully.

"Show me the way to the lofty crag, I pray you, good bird!" he exclaimed. "Show me the way, that I may greet the lady or look into the face of fear!"

By way of answer the little bird fluttered away toward the heights leading up the mountain-side. Siegfried eagerly followed, over stones, through thickets, beneath huge trees, across dangerous chasms, but always being careful not to lose sight of the bird.

At last they came to a wild rocky gorge, extending to the last line of cliffs, and there the bird suddenly disappeared. But Siegfried saw a narrow chasm like a giant's pathway leading upward to the crest, and this, he decided, was the route he must follow. After a last look to see where the bird had gone, he prepared to ascend the path, when he came face to face with Wotan.

Siegfried had never seen the god before, and now was in nowise dismayed, although the strange-looking figure in long cloak and broad hat was larger and more commanding than any he had ever met before this day. In Wotan's hand was the Spear of Authority, with which he ruled the world.

"Where are you going?" asked the god.

"I know not," replied Siegfried. "A little bird told me of a rock surrounded by fire, and of a lovely maiden who sleeps there. But now the bird is gone, and I must find my way alone."

"Do you not fear the fire?"

"Fear? That also have I come to seek. Know you the way?"

"It lies up through yonder rift," replied Wotan, wishing to test the young man's bravery yet further; "but the journey is one of terror. Upon the mountain-top the flames leap fiercely. Sheets of fire driven before the wind rage on every side."

"The fiery foe I challenge!" answered Siegfried. "I must rescue Brunhilde at any cost." And he strode toward the rocky chasm.

"Back, rash youth!" commanded Wotan, stretching out his Spear. "You shall not pass while this all-powerful weapon prevents!"

"It shall not avail against this magic blade!" replied Siegfried, drawing the Sword of Need.

Wotan started at sight of the fateful blade.

"Where got you the weapon?" he asked.

"At Mime's forge I made it--the best metal in the world!"

"But it shall not avail against the Spear, for by it was the Sword first broken," answered Wotan.

"Ah!" cried Siegfried, rushing forward. "Then you were my father's foe! On guard, before my Sword brings vengeance upon you!"

He swung the Sword with terrific force through the air. It met the Spear with a crash like thunder, and the once powerful Spear was broken. The owner of the Ring was indeed master of the world!

"Go forward!" said Wotan sadly. "No longer can I hold you. The doom of the gods was foretold before you came into the world. You are but the instrument of fate."

And he disappeared.

Siegfried glanced at the spot where he had stood, in astonishment. Then seeing no further bar to his progress, he ran lightly up the rough pathway. Presently he heard a dull roaring sound and saw, on the mountain height, a huge mass of flames which leaped in every direction and seemed to touch the very sky. Red and wrathful they shone, shutting off the pathway by what appeared to be a solid body of fire, while clouds of smoke hid the view on every side.

But Siegfried pressed forward undaunted. Putting his hunting-horn to his lips he sounded a merry note as if in challenge. And as he went on, a wonderful thing happened. The fire parted slightly to right and left, letting him pass by unharmed. On he went until he came to the inner circle which the flame had guarded; and now it vanished utterly, leaving the blue sky and the free air of heaven.

On the moss-covered rock Siegfried saw someone lying asleep, beneath a heavy shield. He lifted this and beheld what appeared to be a youth clad in bright armour. The helmet hid the face, but when he carefully removed the heavy head-dress a mass of beautiful golden hair was loosened. The features were those of the lovely Brunhilde.

"Ah! it is not a man!" exclaimed Siegfried gazing at the face in rapture. "It is the maid I have come to seek! How still she is! How can I waken her from this slumber?"

He tried gently to rouse her by calling, but there was no response. Only her deep breathing told him that she was alive.

"'Tis the fairest vision I could ever have dreamed of seeing!" he murmured; "the one maid I could worship and serve! Now I cannot waken her, and all my past hardships have been in vain."

He knelt down and gazed long and rapturously into her face. Then unable to restrain his emotions any longer he bent and pressed his lips full and fervently upon hers.

Instantly the maid awoke. While Siegfried started back in rapture she sat up as easily as though yesterday had witnessed the beginning of her long sleep. She gazed about her in delight, and burst forth into a little cry of gladness:

"Hail to thee, Sun,
Hail to thee, Light,
Hail, thou luminous Day!
Deep was my sleep,
Long was the night!"

Then looking about she asked, "Who is the hero that has come to waken me?"

"I am Siegfried," he replied modestly.

"Siegfried, son of Sieglinde?" she cried. "Then I knew your mother in those past years before I fell asleep!"

"Oh, tell me of her and of my father!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining. "But, I am not thoughtful," he added in another tone. "You are in need of refreshment after your long slumber."

"I am a daughter of the gods," she answered, "and feel no faintness or weariness as mortals do."

Siegfried, who had come near to her, drew back as though struck by a blow.

"A daughter of the gods!" he exclaimed. "I--I hoped to claim you for my bride!"

In his ingenuous youth, his inner thoughts rose naturally to his lips.

Brunhilde smiled sadly and shook her head.

"See yonder horse, which also has been asleep?" she asked. "It is Grani, my winged steed, upon which I used to ride through the clouds with my sisters. Would you bid me stay upon earth?"

"Ah, Brunhilde, my love is selfish, I know! But if your heart could feel half the fire that burns in mine, you would gladly stay upon earth like other women!"

"Like other women!" the words brought back the decree of Wotan in a flash, and Brunhilde sat as though stunned. Then she looked proudly at the fearless hero with his frank face and deep blue eyes; and as she looked the love-light shining in his face was lit upon her own.

Siegfried knelt and pressed his lips to her hands, with bowed head. He dared not look again for very joy, and afraid lest the light he had seen should be vanished.

"Brunhilde! Brunhilde!" he whispered. "Can it be true?"

For answer Brunhilde clasped her arms around his neck and looked up laughingly into the sky. And again she sang--this time a note of glad renunciation. The proud War Maiden, the daughter of the gods, had found a joy in the mortal life of a loving woman, such as she had never dreamed.

"Away, Walhalla!
Glorious world!
Farewell thou gorgeous
Realm of the gods!
End in delight
O lofty race!
Night of destruction
Thy terrors are gone;
I stand in the glow
Of Siegfried's star!"

Then Siegfried in his turn sang of love and Brunhilde. And the two sweet voices blended together at the last in a triumphant strain,

"My own for ever,
And parting never,
For aye and ever.
Shining in Love!
And smiling at Death!"

*PART IV*

*THE DOWNFALL OF THE GODS*

When Brunhilde promised to become Siegfried's wife she well knew what it would cost her. She would no longer be of the family of the gods, nor would she have strength and wisdom beyond other mortal women. Yet she now had no regrets. Her love for her hero eclipsed every other thing, and she knew only that she was entirely happy in the present.

Long the lovers sat and talked, forgetful of all the outside world. Siegfried told Brunhilde of his adventures; his fight with the dragon; his possession of the Ring; and finally his encounter with the mysterious stranger whose spear he had shattered.

Brunhilde started up at this. She had recognised Wotan at once from the description.

"The spear was _broken_, you say?" she exclaimed questioningly. "Are you sure it was broken?"

"It fell shivered upon the ground beneath my sword."

"What did the stranger do?"

"He looked sadly at me, saying that he was powerless to hinder me further. Then he vanished suddenly."

"Ah, woe to the gods!" ejaculated the maiden. "Their doom is indeed coming upon them! Siegfried, the spear you broke was the dread Spear of Authority with which great Wotan ruled the world. Now, all the old order of things shall pass away. Walhalla itself must fall, because of the curse of the Ring."

"The curse of the Ring?" asked Siegfried in an astonished voice. "What is that?"

"It is the sad fate which has followed upon the heels of a bad deed," she answered. "King Wotan himself told me the tale upon that day so long ago when I disobeyed him." She shuddered slightly at the memory, then went on; "It is bound up in your own fate, so I will tell you also the story."

Then Siegfried listened with wide-open eyes while Brunhilde told him of the lost Rhine-Gold; the building of Walhalla; the reward of the giants; and the curse of the Ring. His breath was bated and his eyes were very moist when she told further of Siegmund and Sieglinde and the wrath of Wotan.

"Then you were the protector of my father and mother!" he said, embracing her joyfully. "Ah, how much love and devotion do I owe you, fairest and dearest of goddess-maidens!"

"Will you never forget me?" she asked.

By way of reply he drew the magic Ring from his finger and placed it upon hers.

"Let this be our troth," he said. "From this moment it becomes a blessing instead of a curse, and our lives shall be one life for evermore."

"It shall tell me always of you," answered Brunhilde. "For I know you cannot linger here, dearly as I should desire it. You come of a race of heroes, and great deeds await you upon earth. Your sword must not grow rusty in idleness, nor your strength weak through ease."

"'Tis true," he said, with a sad but resolute look in his blue eyes, as he glanced far over the nestling valleys. "'Tis true that my lifework is yet to be begun. But, alas! Brunhilde, how can I leave you? You are the only person I have ever known that gave me sympathy or love."

Brunhilde pressed his hands tenderly.

"My sympathy and love shall always be for you!" she whispered; "and here shall I wait your return to me. Loki will build his barrier of fire about me once more, and only you, the hero who knows no fear, can find your way back again.

"And now take with you Grani, my good horse. He can no longer fly through the clouds as formerly, when his mistress was one of the immortals. But he will go through fire and water for you, and will be your devoted slave."

The maiden called the beautiful horse, which had been aroused out of sleep at the same time she was awakened, and which was now grazing near by. Grani came to them whinnying gently. Siegfried patted the steed's soft nose, then took the bridle slowly, as if unwilling to speak. He girded on his sword, placed his helmet firmly upon his head, and slung his bugle around his shoulders.

"Farewell, beloved!" said Brunhilde softly.

"Farewell, beloved!" he answered. "My hunting-horn shall tell you from the valley all that I cannot say."

One lingering embrace, and he turned and led his steed down the steep path. Brunhilde watched his descent with shining eyes. Presently from the valley below she heard the mellow notes of the horn sweet and clear. Then the faint gallop of hoofs told her that Siegfried had gone forth into the world to play the part Fate gave him.

Several days passed by. Grani steadily and swiftly bore his rider over mountains, through valleys, and across rivers with untiring zeal. It was not until they reached the noble river Rhine that Siegfried drew rein. Upon the crest of a hill, across the stream from where they stood, rose a splendid castle. It seemed to belong to the king of the country, for it was very large, and a pennant floated from an upper turret. The current of the river was deep and swift at this point, but a small boat was moored not far from Siegfried.

"Come, Grani!" he said dismounting; "I will take the boat, while you swim beside me across the stream. This promises an adventure!"

Grani obeyed, and they were soon in the channel, heading toward the castle.

Now this castle was the seat of a king of an ancient and warlike tribe. His name was Gunther, and he tried to deal fairly with every man. He had a beautiful sister Gudrun; and, also, a half-brother named Hagen, a sly fellow who was always plotting mischief. Hagen, in fact, was the evil genius of the castle. You will not wonder at this when I tell you that he was of kin to the Nibelungs, Alberich and Mime.

Like all of dwarf blood, Hagen had a passion for gold, and was also adept at discovering secrets. He knew of the stolen Rhine-Gold; and he had also learned--perhaps through Alberich--of Siegfried's quest of Brunhilde. Thereupon he began to plot, and he told King Gunther just enough of his plotting to get the monarch's interest aroused.

On this very day when Siegfried had started across the river toward the castle, Hagen had been telling the King that he ought to find a queen. And then he told of the beauty of Brunhilde, and how she slept upon a lofty cliff surrounded by a barrier of fire.

"None but the bravest of heroes can rescue her," Hagen continued. "But there is one who is even now upon this quest. He is called the bravest of the brave, and his name is Siegfried."

Then turning to the Princess Gudrun, he added slyly, "Perchance Siegfried is the hero _you_ have been awaiting, O Princess! He is handsome as he is brave."

Now Gunther liked not the idea of another man being braver than he. But he only said, "I should like much to see the fair Brunhilde; but if I could not pierce the flame, how could I persuade Siegfried to do so in my stead, seeing this is his own quest?"

"Leave that to me," laughed Hagen. "I would brew him a drink that would make him forget all his past--his plans and wishes--and he would love the first lady his eyes fell upon."

He looked again slyly at Gudrun, who blushed red, but wished within her heart that she could see this Siegfried. Her wish was soon to be gratified, for just as Hagen finished speaking they heard the sound of a horn, out on the river, blown in challenge.

"Who dares challenge Gunther in his own castle?" exclaimed the King starting up.

Hagen hurried to the battlements.

"I see a knight clad in glittering gold armour," he said. "He is in a boat alone; and by the boat swims a horse. With your favour I will meet him at the landing." And Hagen seized sword and helmet and hastened out.

King Gunther followed him, his curiosity being aroused by the challenge and Hagen's description. Together in silence they awaited the coming of the boat which made swift progress against the current, driven by Siegfried's muscular arms. Soon it touched the bank, and the young man sprang out. Drawing his sword he saluted the two and then placed himself on guard.

"I am Siegfried," he said simply, "and if any man gainsay my landing on these shores, I am ready to meet him in honourable combat!"

"Not so!" said Gunther, stretching out his hand cordially. "If your name be Siegfried, then am I right glad to welcome you! Much have I heard of your prowess, and more would I fain hear while you rest yourself at my board. I am Gunther."