The Story of Siegfried | Page 7

while it was whispered around that not Mimer, but one of
his pupils, had forged the sword. And, when the master was asked what
truth there was in this story, his eyes twinkled, and the corners of his
mouth twitched strangely, and he made no answer. But Veliant, the
foreman of the smithy, and the greatest of boasters said, "It was I who
forged the fire-edge of the blade Balmung." And, although none denied
the truth of what he said, but few who knew what sort of a man he was
believed his story. And this is the reason, my children, that, in the
ancient songs and stories which tell of this wondrous sword, it is said
by most that Mimer, and by a few that Veliant, forged its blade. But I
prefer to believe that it was made by Siegfried, the hero who afterwards
wielded it in so many adventures. [EN#3] Be this as it may, however,
blind hate and jealousy were from this time uppermost in the coarse
and selfish mind of Veliant; and he sought how he might drive the lad
away from the smithy in disgrace. "This boy has done what no one else
could do," said he. "He may yet do greater deeds, and set himself up as

the master smith of the world, and then we shall all have to humble
ourselves before him as his underlings and thralls."
And he nursed this thought, and brooded over the hatred which he felt
towards the blameless boy; but he did not dare to harm him, for fear of
their master, Mimer. And Siegfried busied himself at his forge, where
the sparks flew as briskly and as merrily as ever before, and his bellows
roared from early morning till late at evening. Nor did the foreman's
unkindness trouble him for a moment, for he knew that the master's
heart was warm towards him.
Oftentimes, when the day's work was done, Siegfried sat with Mimer
by the glowing light of the furnace-fire, and listened to the sweet tales
which the master told of the deeds of the early days, when the world
was young, and the dwarf-folk and the giants had a name and a place
upon earth. And one night, as they thus sat, the master talked of Odin
the All-Father, and of the gods who dwell with him in Asgard, and of
the puny men-folk whom they protect and befriend, until his words
grew full of bitterness, and his soul of a fierce longing for something he
dared not name. And the lad's heart was stirred with a strange
uneasiness, and he said,--
"Tell me, I pray, dear master, something about my own kin, my father's
fathers,--those mighty kings, who, I have heard said, were the bravest
and best of men."
Then the smith seemed pleased again. And his eyes grew brighter, and
lost their far-away look; and a smile played among the wrinkles of his
swarthy face, as he told a tale of old King Volsung and of the deeds of
the Volsung kings:--
"Long years ago, before the evil days had dawned, King Volsung ruled
over all the land which lies between the sea and the country of the
Goths. The days were golden; and the good Frey dropped peace and
plenty everywhere, and men went in and out and feared no wrong. King
Volsung had a dwelling in the midst of fertile fields and fruitful
gardens. Fairer than any dream was that dwelling. The roof was
thatched with gold, and red turrets and towers rose above. The great

feast-hall was long and high, and its walls were hung with sun-bright
shields; and the door-nails were of silver. In the middle of the hall
stood the pride of the Volsungs,--a tree whose blossoms filled the air
with fragrance, and whose green branches, thrusting themselves
through the ceiling, covered the roof with fair foliage. It was Odin's tree,
and King Volsung had planted it there with his own hands.
"On a day in winter King Volsung held a great feast in his hall in honor
of Siggeir, the King of the Goths, who was his guest. And the fires
blazed bright in the broad chimneys, and music and mirth went round.
But in the midst of the merry-making the guests were startled by a
sudden peal of thunder, which seemed to come from the cloudless sky,
and which made the shields upon the walls rattle and ring. In wonder
they looked around. A strange man stood in the doorway, and laughed,
but said not a word. And they noticed that he wore no shoes upon his
feet, but that a cloud-gray cloak was thrown over his shoulders, and a
blue hood was drawn down over his head. His face was half-hidden by
a heavy beard; and