ONE day Regin said to Siegfried, “You have forged for yourself the famous sword Balmung as your father Siegmund foretold. Now it remains for you to fulfil the rest of the prophecy and win fame that will add glory to the name of the Volsungs. Of my celebrated wisdom you have already learned all there is of worth, and there are no ties to hold you to this people; but before you leave the land which has nourished you, there is one more task which I would fain lay upon you—the slaying of the dragon which guards a wonderful treasure.”

“How can I start out upon adventures with nothing but a sword, even though that sword be Odin’s gift?” asked Siegfried. “I have no horse, and I should make a sorry appearance if I went on foot.”

“Go out into yonder meadow,” said Regin, “and there you will find the best steeds that King Alf has gathered either by purchase or as the spoil of battle. Choose yourself one from among them; they are all of noble race.” Siegfried went over to the meadow where the stately horses were grazing, and saw that each one of them was truly fine enough to be the charger of a king’s son. Indeed, they all seemed to him so desirable that there was none which he would prefer above another. While he was hesitating, he heard a voice at his side ask, “Would you choose a steed, Sir Siegfried?”

Siegfried turned quickly around, for he had not heard any one approaching, and his heart beat fast when he saw beside him a tall form wrapped in a blue mantle. He dared not look closer, and he trembled now with both fear and joy, for the form and voice were strangely familiar. Then falteringly he answered:—

“I would indeed choose, but all the horses seem to me to be of equal beauty and strength.”

The stranger shook his head and said: “There is one horse here which far surpasses all the rest, for he came from Odin’s pastures on the sunny slopes of Asgard. He it is you must choose.”

“Gladly would I do so,” replied Siegfried, “but I am too ignorant to know which he is.”

“Drive all the horses into the river,” said the old man, “and I think you will then find the choice easy.”

So Siegfried drove them out of the meadow, and down a steep bank into the stream below. They all plunged in boldly, but soon began to struggle frantically against the current which was bearing them rapidly down the river upon a bank of rocks below. Some of the horses turned back when they felt the force of the water; some fought helplessly against it and were carried down toward the rocks; but one swam to the other side and sprang up on the green bank. Here he stopped a moment to graze, then he plunged again into the stream, and, breasting the current with apparent ease, he swam to the shore and stood at Siegfried’s side.

The youth stroked the stately head and looked into the large, beautiful eyes. Then turning to the stranger he said, “This is he.”

“Yes,” replied the old man, “this is he, and a better steed did man never have. His name is Greyfel,[46] and he is yours as a gift from Odin.”

So saying, the strange visitor disappeared, and Siegfried returned to his forge full of joy and pride, for he knew that no other than the Father of the Gods himself had come to direct his choice.

When Regin heard of this second visit of Odin’s he said to Siegfried: “You are truly blest and favoured of the gods, and it may be that you are the one chosen to perform the task of which I have already spoken to you. I have cherished the hope for many years that in you I might find one brave enough to face the dragon, and restore the treasure to its rightful owner.” Then he told Siegfried of Andvari’s hoard, and of how it came to be guarded by the dragon Fafnir. “This monster,” he continued, “does not rest satisfied with the possession of his treasure, but must needs live upon the flesh of men; and he has thus become the terror of all the country round. Many brave men have sought to slay him for the sake of the gold, but they have only miserably perished; for the dragon breathes out fire which will consume ten men at a breath; and he spits forth poison so deadly that one drop of it can kill. He is, as I have told you, my brother, but nevertheless I bid you slay him.”

“I will go,” cried Siegfried, eagerly; “for though the monster be all that you have said, with Greyfel and my sword Balmung I fear neither man nor beast.”

The following day Siegfried bade farewell to King Alf and started on his journey, taking Regin with him, since the latter knew the road so well and could guide him to the dragon’s cave. They travelled for many days and nights, and at last came to a narrow river whose current was so fierce that no boat, Regin said, was ever known to brave its waters. But neither Siegfried nor Greyfel felt a touch of fear, and the noble horse carried both riders safely to the opposite bank. Here they found themselves at the foot of a tall mountain, which seemed to rise straight up like a wall from the river’s edge. It was apparently of solid rock, for no tree or shrub or blade of grass grew upon its steep side. There were no sounds of birds in the air, no sign of any living thing inhabiting this dreary place; nothing to see but the rushing river over which the mountain cast its gloomy shadow. It was enough to dishearten the stoutest hero, but Siegfried refused to turn back, though Regin, now trembling and fearful, besought him to give up the adventure.

They went on some distance farther along the river bank, to a place where the mountain appeared less rocky and forbidding. There were patches of earth to be seen here and there, and occasionally a straggling tree sought to strike its roots into the unfriendly soil. Pointing up through the trees, Regin said:—

“Look close and you will see what seems to be a path worn in the earth. It reaches from the mountain top down to the water’s edge, and it is the trail of the dragon. Over this he will come to-morrow at sunrise, but think not to encounter him face to face, for you could not do it and live. You must depend upon stratagem if you would hope to slay him. Dig, therefore, a series of pits and cover them with boughs, so that the dragon, as he rushes down the mountain side, may fall into one of them and not get out until you have slain him. As for me, I will go some distance below, where the view of Fafnir’s cave is plainer, and I can warn you of his approach.” So saying, he went away, and Siegfried remained alone, wondering at Regin’s cowardice, but content to face the danger with only the help of Balmung.

It was now night, and the place became full of unknown terrors. Even the stars and the moon were hidden by thick clouds, and Siegfried could hardly see to dig his pits. Every time he struck the earth, the blow brought a deep echo from the mountain, and now and then he heard the dismal hoot of an owl. There was no other sound save the noise of the swiftly running river, and his own heavy breathing as he worked away at his task.

Suddenly he was aware that some one was standing beside him, and when he turned to look, his heart beat fast with joy, for even in the darkness he fancied he saw the blueness of the stranger’s coat, and his long, white beard beneath the hood.

“What are you doing in this dismal country, Sir Siegfried?” asked the old man.

“I have come to slay Fafnir,” replied the youth.

“Have you no fear, then?” continued the stranger, “or no love for your life that you risk it thus boldly? Many a brave man has met death ere this in the perilous encounter you would try. You are young yet, and life is full of pleasures. Give up this adventure, then, and return to your father’s hall.”

“No, I cannot,” answered Siegfried. “I am young, it is true, but I have no fear of the dragon, since Odin’s sword is in my hands.”

“It is well said,” replied the old man; “but if you are to accomplish the slaying of Fafnir, do not dig any pits here on the river’s bank, for it will be of no avail. But go up on the mountain side until you have found a narrow path worn deep into the earth. It is Fafnir’s trail, and over it he is sure to come. Dig there a deep pit, and hide in it yourself, first covering the top with a few boughs. As the dragon’s huge body passes over this, you can strike him from beneath with your sword.”

As the stranger finished speaking, Siegfried turned to thank him, but he saw no one there; only Greyfel was standing at his side. But his courage now rose high, for he knew that it was Odin who had talked with him. He hurried up the mountain side and soon found the dragon’s trail. Here he dug a deep pit and crept into it himself, covering the top as Odin had directed. For hours he lay still and waited, and it seemed to him that the night would never end. At last a faint streak of light appeared in the east, and it soon grew bright enough for Siegfried to see plainly about him. He raised one corner of his roof of boughs and peeped cautiously out. Just then there came a terrible roar which seemed to shake the whole mountain. This was followed in a moment by a loud rushing sound like some mighty wind, and the air was full of heat and smoke as from a furnace. Siegfried dropped quickly back into his hiding-place, for he knew that the dragon had left his cave.

Louder and louder grew the fearful sound, as the monster rushed swiftly down the mountain side, leaving smoke and fire in his trail. His claws struck deep into the ground, and in his rapid descent he sometimes tore up the roots of trees. His huge wings flapping at his side made a frightful noise, while the black scaly tail left behind it a track of deadly slime. On he went until, all unknowing, he glided over the loosely strewn boughs which covered the pit, and Siegfried struck with his good sword Balmung. It seemed to him that he had struck blindly. Yet in a moment he knew that the blow was sure and had pierced the monster’s heart, for he heard it give one roar of mortal pain. Then, as he drew out his sword, the huge body quivered an instant and rolled with a crash down the mountain side. But in drawing out his sword from the dragon’s heart, a great gush of blood followed which bathed Siegfried from head to foot in its crimson stream. He did not heed this, however, but sprang out of the pit and hurried down to where the dragon, so lately a thing of dread and horror, now lay apparently lifeless at the foot of the mountain.

When Fafnir was aware that he had received his death-wound, he began to lash out fiercely with his head and tail, in hopes that he would thereby kill the thing which had destroyed him. But Siegfried stayed at a safe distance; and when he saw the dragon cease its frantic struggles and lie quiet on the ground, he came nearer and gazed at it in wonder and half in fear—for Fafnir, though dying, was still a terrible creature to look upon.

The dragon slowly raised its head as Siegfried approached, and said, “Who art thou, and who is thy father and thy kin that thou wert so bold as to come against me?” At first Siegfried was loath to tell his name[47]; but soon he felt ashamed of his fears and answered boldly: “Siegfried I am called, and my father was Siegmund the Volsung.” Then said Fafnir, “Who urged thee to this deed?” and Siegfried answered, “A bold heart urged me; and my strong hand and good sword aided me to do the deed.”

Now Fafnir knew well who it was that had set the youth upon this adventure, and he said: “Of what use is it to lie? Regin, my brother, hath sent thee to work my death, for he is eager to gain the treasure which I guarded these many years. Go, therefore, and seek it out, but first I will give thee this counsel; turn away thy steps from this ill-fated gold, for a curse rests upon it, and it shall be the bane of every one that possesses it.” As he spoke these words, Fafnir gave a fearful shudder that seemed to make the trees around him tremble; and in a moment Siegfried saw that the great dragon was dead.

Then Regin crept out of his hiding-place, and drew near to the dead creature, peering closely into the dull, glazed eyes to see if it were really a thing no longer to be feared. A look of hatred came into his face, but it disappeared quickly when he turned to the youth at his side and said:—

“Bravely done, Siegfried! You have this day wrought a great deed which shall be told and sung as long as the world stands fast.” Then he added eagerly, “Have you found the hoard?”

“I did not look for it,” answered Siegfried; “for after what you have told me of the curse which rests upon it, I had no desire to touch it.”

Regin seemed now to be trembling with excitement, and he exclaimed hurriedly: “We must seek it at once, yes, at once, before any one can come to claim it and we thereby lose a wonderful treasure. But let me go alone to find it, for you would surely lose your way.” Then as he saw Siegfried wiping his blood-stained sword on the earth, he grasped the youth’s arm fiercely and said: “Do not put the blade into its sheath until you have done one thing further. While I am searching for the cave, do you cut out Fafnir’s heart and roast it, that I may eat it upon my return.”

While he was speaking, Regin’s face had lost its usual gentle and kindly look, and had become crafty and sly and full of cruel cunning. He looked now and then suspiciously at Siegfried, but the youth turned his head away, for he could not bear to look on at such a dreadful transformation. Meanwhile Regin was muttering to himself: “The gold! the gold! and precious gems in great glittering heaps! All of Andvari’s hoard is mine now,—all mine.” And he hurried away, leaving Siegfried surprised and sorrowing to find how soon the curse of that ill-fated gold had fallen on its would-be possessor.

When Regin had gone, Siegfried set to work to roast Fafnir’s heart, and when the dreadful meal was cooked, he laid it upon the grass, but in so doing, some of the blood dropped upon his hand. Wondering what taste there could be in the dragon’s heart to make Regin desire to eat it, Siegfried put the finger, on which the blood had dropped, to his lips. All at once he heard a hum of voices in the air. It was only a flock of crows flying overhead and chattering to themselves, but it sounded like human voices, and Siegfried could plainly tell what the crows were saying. A moment later two ravens came flying by, and he heard one of them say, “There sits Siegfried roasting Fafnir’s heart that he may give it to Regin, who will taste the blood, and so be able to understand the language of birds.”

“Yes,” replied the other raven, “and he is waiting for Regin to return, not knowing that when Regin has taken possession of the hoard, he will come back and slay Siegfried.”

The youth listened to these words in sorrow and surprise, for in spite of the look which he had seen on Regin’s face, he could not believe his master guilty of such murderous thoughts.

Soon Regin returned, but what a change had come over him. Siegfried saw that the raven’s words were indeed true, and that the curse of Andvari had fallen upon the new possessor of the hoard. If Regin’s face had been mean and crafty before, it was now ten times more dreadful, and his mouth wore an evil smile which made Siegfried shudder. It seemed, too, as if his body had shrunk, and its motion was not unlike the gliding of a serpent. He was talking to himself as he came along, and appeared to be counting busily on his fingers. When Siegfried spoke, he looked up and eyed him furtively, then his face became suddenly black with rage, and he sprang at the youth, crying: “Fool and murderer, you shall have none of the gold. It is mine, all mine.”

With the strength of a madman he dashed Siegfried upon the ground, and seizing a large stick struck him with all his force. But Siegfried sprang up quickly and, drawing Balmung, prepared to defend himself against Regin’s attack. Enraged now to the point of frenzy, Regin struck again and again, and suddenly, in his blind fury, rushed upon Siegfried’s sword. Siegfried uttered a cry of horror and closed his eyes, for he could not look upon the painful sight. When he opened them again, Regin was lying dead at his feet. Then he drew out his sword, and, sitting down beside his slain friend, wept bitterly. At length he arose, and mounting Greyfel rode sorrowfully away.

The good horse bore him straight to Glistenheath—to the cave where Fafnir had hidden the ill-fated hoard. Here he found gold and gems in such heaps that his eyes were dazzled, and he turned away fearing to burden himself with the treasure and the curse which rested upon it. But from the pile he took Andvari’s ring, which he placed upon his finger, and a gold helmet. He also chose from the treasures of the hoard a magic cape and a shield. Then he remounted Greyfel, after placing upon him as many sacks of gold as the horse could well carry.