FOR several days Siegfried rode across the country without meeting any one who could tell him in what land he was, or whither the roads would lead him. At times he longed to return to the palace of King Alf, and again he hoped that Odin was conducting him to new adventures which would prove that his father Siegmund had not prophesied great things of him in vain. He was growing very weary of the continued stretch of forest and mountain that never seemed to end, and he began to wonder whether his dream of greatness was not, after all, a thing of shadows—a mere will-o’-the-wisp, which it would be foolish for him to follow. Yet Odin’s sword was in his hand, and the strange blue-cloaked old man had already come to help him when he was most in need of guidance. So, not knowing, himself, in which direction to go, he let the reins lie loosely on Greyfel’s neck, and trusted to Odin to lead them.

Soon the forest ended and they came out into the open country where Siegfried hoped he might meet with some one who could tell him whither he was faring. The landscape now changed to meadows and ploughed fields, with here and there a castle perched high on the protecting hills. Siegfried kept as much as he could on the well-travelled roads, since there he would be most likely to meet with some other rider who could direct his way; but all those whom he saw seemed to be wanderers, like himself, and they could tell him little of the country or the people. In return, they would ask him whither he was going, and what was the object of his journey, but to all questions he offered no reply save that he was travelling in search of adventures. But at heart he had no desire for adventures, unless they led him among people and into the life of the world. He had grown weary of his solitude and his aimless wandering, and longed for the companionship of men.

One day, late in the evening, he found himself on the edge of a thick forest. He did not wish to enter this, for it looked dark and impenetrable, and already Greyfel was picking his way among brambles and over uncertain ground; so he turned the horse’s head and prepared to go back to the road he had lately left. But Greyfel knew better than his master where to go, and persisted in moving forward into what seemed to be the very heart of the forest. In a moment, however, Siegfried found that they were not stumbling helplessly about, for he heard the sharp, clear sound of the horse’s hoofs upon a hard road, while the glimmer of many lights in the distance told him he was not in a forest wilderness, but near some great city. Soon he met a man on horseback, and inquired of him what country this was, and whither the road would lead him.

“This is Burgundy, sir,” answered the stranger, “and yonder is the city where King Gunther[53A] himself dwells. There you are sure of finding shelter and entertainment for the night.” Siegfried thanked him, and spurred Greyfel toward the city.

In the palace of King Gunther, a great feast was being held. There was wine in costly beakers, and meat served upon plates of gold. At the place of each guest was a silver goblet, and these were often lifted high as the company drank to the health of Gunther and all his noble race. While the men feasted and drank, the women of the household stood at the palace windows looking down the road to see if some strolling minstrel might not be passing by who could be summoned in to help them beguile the weary hours that would follow the days of feasting.

The king’s mother, Queen Ute,[53B] was busy with her loom, for she cared no longer for the gayety of the palace nor for any entertainment that some wandering harper might provide. She was a wise woman, learned in magic arts and the reading of dreams.

One day when her daughter, Kriemhild, [53C] the beautiful sister of King Gunther, came to her with troubled face, she asked the maiden why she seemed so sad, and Kriemhild answered: “I dreamed last night that a hawk with feathers of gold lighted on my wrist; and naught was so dear to me as this hawk. And I dreamed that I told both you and the king, my brother, that I would cast aside all my rich raiment and gems rather than lose the hawk that was feathered with gold.”

Then said Queen Ute, the witch-wife: “Trouble not yourself over strange dreams. A hero is coming to woo you, and he shall stay at your side even as the hawk upon your wrist.”

Now on this day when King Gunther was feasting,[54] and the women idly watched the long white line of road where often a gallant horse and rider came galloping toward the castle gates, the fair Kriemhild suddenly exclaimed that some one was riding slowly along the road. Her mother rose from the loom, and standing by the open window she watched the approaching figure with great interest. Then Queen Ute said:—

“That is no wandering harper, child, for see how nobly he sits his horse. It is some knight with tidings from a far country, or some king come hither to claim your brother’s hospitality. But summon Hagen and question him concerning the stranger.” So Kriemhild went out into the hall where Gunther and his vassals sat at the great table drinking and singing war-songs. Stepping softly to her uncle’s side, she whispered that a stranger was approaching the castle, and begged him to look out and see if he knew who the rider might be.

Hagen[55] was the oldest and most formidable warrior in all the land of Burgundy. He was tall and powerfully built, and gave the impression of great strength, in spite of his gray hairs. His face was dark and deeply furrowed, and the frown which he always wore made him look grim and stern, as indeed he was. He had never been known to care for any one or to show the least regard for even his own sister Ute and her household. Only toward Gunther, his liege lord, did Hagen have perfect loyalty and a kind of doglike fidelity, which kept him ever at the king’s side in the midst of the fiercest battles, and constant at his service at the court when Gunther needed his advice or support. He was famous, too, for his skill in statecraft, and in all matters of government was considered wiser than any of the king’s other counsellors. He also added to this a wonderful knowledge of men and things, and could recount the deeds of famous heroes, all of whom he knew by name and lineage.

When Hagen came to the window at Kriemhild’s request, he looked out for some moments in silence, then he said: “The youth whom you see approaching is Siegfried, the slayer of Fafnir, and owner of a famous hoard.[56] It would be well for the king if he made this man his guest.”

The queen hastened to send word to the porters to open the castle gates and invite the stranger to enter. Then she told the king that a noble prince had come to be his guest.

So Gunther and Hagen, followed by a retinue of knights, went to the great door of the palace and welcomed Siegfried to Burgundy. The young hero was surprised and pleased at such a cordial reception, and when the king urged him to remain with them some days, he gladly consented, for the castle with its gracious household seemed a pleasant resting-place after his days of wandering.

Many feasts were now given, and games were held in Siegfried’s honour, to which all the princes of Burgundy were invited. The king would not allow him to speak of leaving them, and Siegfried was readily persuaded to stay yet longer, for the days passed quickly and happily at Gunther’s court. The king became his friend and constant companion, and the beautiful Kriemhild often talked with him. Only Hagen kept aloof, grim, silent and distrustful.

Just before Siegfried’s arrival, Gunther had become involved in a war with one of the neighbouring princes, and as the number of his forces was much inferior to that of the enemy, he feared defeat and the possible loss of his crown. Since the very beginning, fortune had been against him, and he grew daily more fearful lest it should end in the overthrow of his kingdom. Not wishing to risk another disastrous battle, Hagen went to the king one day and said: “Let us not allow Siegfried to sit idly here in the palace while we go to the battle-field. Bid him help us before it is too late.”

“Nay, he is our guest,” replied the king.

“What of that,” cried Hagen, impatiently; “he has been here many days, and, as he holds himself your friend, your cause should be his also. We need help, and he alone is powerful enough to turn the tide of battle in our favour. He has a magic cloak called the Tarnkappe, which is of little use to him as he sits here in the palace. He also has the mighty Balmung, which was forged from the pieces of Odin’s famous sword, and which should not be allowed to hang idle at his side. With Siegfried as an ally, no enemy can stand against us. Entreat him, therefore, before another day has passed.”

So Gunther sought out Siegfried, and, after telling him of the plight of the Burgundians, begged him to aid them.

“Right willingly will I join you, my friend,” said Siegfried. “There is nothing I would gladlier do than help your cause. I would have been at your side long since had not your gentle sister besought me not to trouble myself over the affairs of your kingdom, and assured me that your forces were more than a match for the enemy.”

The next day Siegfried fought beside the king, and then victory followed victory for the disabled ranks of the Burgundians. The soldiers rallied under his leadership, and went boldly into the fight, while the enemy fell in great numbers beneath the terrible strokes of Balmung. A sudden panic came upon the hitherto victorious host, and they fled in terror before Gunther’s pursuing army. This battle was followed by many others in which the Burgundians completely routed the enemy’s forces, and their leader was obliged to sue for peace. So the war was ended, and the heroes returned to their homes to exchange the sword and shield for the milder pleasures of the palace.

Soon after this, Hagen came again to King Gunther and said: “This great victory has proved how strong an ally we have in Siegfried. It were well, therefore, to keep him with us, lest trouble arise again and we need his help. Let us bind him to our house by some close tie, and as no bond is closer than marriage, you must wed him to your sister Kriemhild, who already looks upon him with favour.”

“But that cannot be, much as I desire it,” answered Gunther, “for Siegfried will not wed with my sister, since his heart yearns for Brunhilde, and he is even now planning to seek her in Isenland.”

“All this is true,” answered the wily Hagen; “and while Siegfried longs for the shield-maiden, nothing can be done; but summon your mother hither, and bade her mix for him a draught of forgetfulness. She is skilled in magic potions, and will give us such help as we need.”

Gunther sent at once for Queen Ute and told her of Hagen’s plan, to which she willingly offered her assistance; and that night when Siegfried returned from a journey to a neighbouring city, she offered him a cup into which she had put a magic drink which made him forget Brunhilde and his ride through the wall of fire. Then he turned more kindly eyes upon the beautiful Kriemhild, and before many days went by, he sought her hand in marriage of Gunther and the queen. Even to the unfriendly Hagen did he urge the acceptance of his suit, and the grim old warrior replied, “Gladly do we yield to you this flower of Burgundy; but to no other man would we have given her for all his prayers.” When it was known throughout the kingdom that such a powerful prince as Siegfried was going to ally himself with the house of Burgundy, there was great rejoicing among the people, for Siegfried had already made himself both feared and loved. The wedding festivities lasted several weeks, and many costly gifts were distributed by King Gunther among his vassals.

Yet in the midst of all the rejoicing, a strange feeling of uneasiness oppressed Siegfried, and he felt himself struggling with some memory that would not take shape in his mind. As his troubled looks seemed to worry the gentle Kriemhild, he tried to banish the haunting memory, and join in the merriment that attended his marriage.

Soon Hagen, who knew that Siegfried was the possessor of Andvari’s hoard, caused it to be whispered about that the young hero had brought no gift to his bride, and that he lived, with empty hands, upon King Gunther’s bounty. When this rumour reached Siegfried, he grew pale with angry pride; then, in the presence of all the court, he made a formal gift to Kriemhild of all his treasure, both the chests of gold which he had carried on his horse, and the great hoard which still lay in Fafnir’s cave. In his resentment and wounded pride he forgot the curse which still rested upon it, and because of the drink which Queen Ute had given him, he forgot the ring that he had placed on Brunhilde’s finger. Gunther and his people were delighted with the magnificence of the bridal gift, and even Hagen felt satisfied, for he knew nothing of the curse, and hoped sometime to induce Siegfried to have the hoard brought to Burgundy.