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The wolf, his suspicions quieted, let himself be wrapped and bound with the cord; and then, as he had done with the other chains, he stretched himself--or tried to. For the magic rope but drew tighter and tighter for all his struggling, until it cut into his very skin. Enraged, he brought his great teeth sharply together, and bit off Tyr's hand at the wrist. Then he howled and snapped and growled, until the G.o.ds, unwilling to have their peace disturbed, thrust a sword into his mouth, so that the hilt rested upon his lower jaw and the point pierced the roof of his mouth. They next fastened the cord to a rock, and left the wolf to writhe and struggle and shake the earth. So they were freed for a time from their enemy, but at the cost of Tyr's hand.
THE DEATH OF BALDER
Adapted by Anna McCaleb
Of all the G.o.ds in Asgard, Balder was most beloved; for no one had ever seen him frown, and his smile and the light of his eyes made all happy who looked at him. And of all who dwelt in Asgard or ever gained admission there, Loki was most hated. Clever as he was, he used his cleverness to hara.s.s the other G.o.ds and to make them wretched, and often he attempted real crimes against them. It was natural enough that Loki, slighted and frowned upon, should hate Balder the beautiful, even though Balder himself had never spoken an unkind word to him.
"I cannot bear the sight of his shining hair and happy eyes," muttered Loki to himself. "If I could just blot them out of Asgard I should be revenging myself upon the G.o.ds for their bitterness toward me, for harm to Balder would hurt them more than harm to themselves."
One morning the a.s.sembled G.o.ds noticed that when Balder came among them he looked less radiant than usual, and they gathered about him, begging that he tell them what was wrong.
"It's nothing! It's nothing!" said Balder; and he forced a smile, but it was not his old smile. It reminded them all of the faint light the sun sheds when a thin cloud has drifted before it.
All day long, as they went about their tasks and their pleasures, the G.o.ds were conscious of a feeling of gloom; and when they stopped and questioned themselves, they found that the cause lay in the diminished brightness of Balder's smile. When, the next morning, Balder again came slowly to the great hall of the G.o.ds and showed a careworn face, Odin and Frigga, his father and mother, drew him apart and implored him to tell them the cause of his grief.
"My son," spoke Odin, "it is not well that this gloom should rest on all the G.o.ds, and they not know the cause. Perhaps we, your father and your mother, may help you."
At last Balder told them that for two nights he had had strange, haunting dreams; what they were he could not remember clearly when he awoke, but he could not shake off their depressing effect.
"I only know," he said, "that there was ever a thick cloud, which drifted between me and the sun, and there were confused sounds of woe, and travelings in dark, difficult places."
Now the G.o.ds knew well that their dreams were messages given them by the Norns, or Fates, and not for a moment did Odin and Frigga venture to laugh at Balder's fears. They soothed him, however, by promising to find some means of warding off any danger that might be threatening him.
Somewhat cheered, Balder went home to his palace to comfort his distressed wife, Nanna, while Odin and Frigga discussed measures for their son's safety.
"I," said Odin, "shall ride to the domains of Hela, queen of the dead, and question the great prophetess who lies buried there, as to what Balder's dream may mean." And mounting Sleipnir, his eight-footed steed, he rode away.
Across the rainbow bridge he pa.s.sed, out of the light, and down, down, down into the dark, hopeless realm of Hela. As he rode by the gate he saw that preparations for a feast were being made within. A gloomy feast it would have to be in those drear regions, but evidently it was being spread for some honored guest, for rich tapestries and rings of gold covered the couches, and vessels of gold graced the tables. Past the gate rode Odin, to a grave without the wall, where for ages long the greatest of all prophetesses had lain buried. Here, in this dark, chill place, was to be spoken the fate of Balder, bringer of light.
Solemnly Odin chanted the awful charms that had power to raise the dead, and king of G.o.ds as he was, he started when the grave opened, and the prophetess, veiled in mist, rose before him.
"Who art thou?" she demanded in hollow, ghost-like tones. "And what canst thou wish to know so weighty that only I, long dead, can answer thee?"
Knowing that she would refuse to answer him should she know who he really was, Odin concealed his ident.i.ty, and simply asked for whom the feast was preparing in Hela's realm.
"For Balder, light of G.o.ds and men," replied the prophetess.
"And who shall dare to strike him down?" cried Odin.
"By the hand of his blind brother Hoder shall he fall. And now let me rest." And the prophetess sank again into her tomb, leaving Odin with a heart more heavy and chill than the darkness which closed round him.
Meanwhile Frigga had busied herself with a plan which her mother love had suggested. First to all the G.o.ds in Asgard, then through all the earth did she go, saying, "Promise me--swear to me--that you will never hurt Balder." Every bird, every beast, every creeping thing; all plants, stones and metals; all diseases and poisons known to G.o.ds and men; fire, water, earth, air--all things gladly took oath to do Balder no harm.
"For do not we," they cried to Frigga, "love him even as you do? And why then should we harm him?"
Gladly Frigga took her way toward home, feeling certain that she had saved Balder forever. As she was about to enter Odin's palace, Valhalla, she noticed on a branch of an oak that grew there, a tiny, weak-looking shrub. "That mistletoe is too young to promise, and too weak to do any harm," said Frigga; and she pa.s.sed it by.
All the G.o.ds rejoiced with her when she told of her success; even Odin partially shook off his fears, as he told the younger G.o.ds and the heroes who dwelt with him in his palace to go and seek enjoyment after their period of gloom. To the great playground of the G.o.ds they hastened, and there they invented a new game. Balder, smiling as of old, took his stand in the midst, and all the others hurled at him weapons, stones and sticks, and even hit at him with their battle-axes. They grew very merry over this pastime, for do what they would, none of them could harm Balder; the missiles either fell short, or dropped to his feet harmless.
Loki, pa.s.sing by, was at first amazed when he saw Balder being used as a target; then, when he saw that Balder remained unhurt through all, he became angry--he could not bear this proof of the fact that all things loved Balder. Hastening away, he disguised himself as an old woman and hobbled off to Fensalir, the mansion of Frigga.
"Do you know," said this old woman, entering the room where Frigga sat spinning, "that the G.o.ds and heroes are playing a very dangerous game?
They are hurling all sorts of things at your son Balder, who stands in their midst."
"That is not a dangerous game," replied Frigga, smiling serenely. "Last year it might have been, but now all things have given me their solemn oath not to harm Balder."
"Well, well, well," said the old woman, "isn't that wonderful? To think that any being should be so much beloved that everything should promise not to hurt him! You said EVERYTHING, did you not?"
"Yes," replied Frigga. "That is, it really amounts to everything. There is one tiny parasite, the mistletoe, which grows on the Valhalla oak, which I did not bother with."
Once out of sight of Frigga, Loki moved rapidly enough; and shortly he appeared, in his own form, among the G.o.ds, who were still shouting with joy over their game. In his hand he carried a dart; but who could have guessed, to look at it, that it had been fashioned from the mistletoe on the Valhalla oak?
Outside of the circle of the G.o.ds stood Hoder, Balder's blind brother, and there was no smile on his face. Loki approached him and asked craftily:
"Why do you not join in the game? Are you not afraid that Balder will think you are jealous of his good fortune if you take no part in this sport they have invented in his honor?"
[Ill.u.s.tration: HODER HURLED THE DART]
"Alas!" said poor Hoder, "I am left out of all the sports of the G.o.ds.
How can I, with my sightless eyes, tell where Balder is? And you see that I have nothing in my hand. What, then, could I throw?"
"I have here a little dart that I will give you," replied Loki. "And since you cannot direct your aim, I will guide your arm."
Joyfully Hoder thanked him, and when Loki indicated the direction in which he was to throw, he hurled the dart with all his might.
Unswervingly flew the mistletoe dart, and instead of falling at Balder's feet, it lodged in his heart, so that he fell dead on the gra.s.s.
Then, instead of the laughter which Hoder waited to hear, there went up a shuddering wail of terror; and angry hands seized Hoder and angry voices were in his ear.
"What have I done?" he pleaded. "I but wished to show honor to Balder as the rest have done."
"And you have killed him!" they cried. "You shall die yourself."
"Peace! Peace!" said Heimdal. "Such a deed of violence must not stain the home of the G.o.ds. Moreover, Hoder did it all unwittingly. It was Loki who directed his aim, and we are all to blame that we allowed him to set foot on our playground."
Bitter indeed was Hoder's grief, and he implored his heart-broken mother, Frigga, that he might be allowed to take Balder's place in dark Hela's realm.
"Not you alone," she replied, "but any of the G.o.ds, would willingly die for Balder. But not in that way can he be brought back to Asgard. There is one chance--speak to Hermod, fleetest of the G.o.ds; tell him to take Odin's horse, Sleipnir, and ride to Hela's abode. Perchance, if he entreat her, she may give Balder up." Hermod, at the word of the despairing Hoder, mounted the eight-footed steed, and set off on the perilous journey.
Meanwhile, the other G.o.ds prepared the funeral pyre for Balder, determined that it should be worthy of the beloved and honored G.o.d.
Great pine trees were felled and piled upon the deck of Ringhorn, Balder's ship; tapestry hangings, garlands of flowers and ornaments of gold and silver were heaped upon the pyre.
And finally, in sad procession, came the G.o.ds, bearing Balder's body, which they placed upon the flowers. His horse and his dogs were killed and placed beside him, that they might be with him to serve him in the underworld. Then one after one of the G.o.ds stepped forward and chanted their farewells; but when Nanna's turn came, she was unable to speak.
Her heart broke, and her spirit fled to join that of her husband. The G.o.ds could not sorrow for her death; they knew that the abode of the dead would have less terrors for the loving pair if they could be together there, so without tears they laid her beside her husband.
Last of all, Odin advanced and cast upon the pyre his treasured ring, Draupnir, gift of the dwarfs, as an offering to his dead son. Then Thor, with a touch of his hammer, which caused the lightning, set fire to the pile, and the ship, with sails set, was launched.