There was peace in all the lands; stilled were the Frost giants, and in Midgard all was happiness.

“Come with me, that I may see that you do no mischief,” said Thor to Loke, as he sprang into his golden chariot, drawn by his snow-white goats.

All day the chariot wheeled on and on across the skies. Night fell, and the gods, entering a peasant’s cottage, asked for shelter. “Our supper we have with us,” Thor said. And taking the goats from the chariot, he killed them and placed them before the fire.

Never had the peasants taken part in such a feast. “It is a feast for the gods,” they said; “but pray, how will you finish your journey without your goats?”

“We will attend to that,” said Thor. “Eat what you will, and all you can. I only ask that, when the feast is finished, you promise to place all the bones together there before the door upon the goat skins. See to it that no bone is forgotten; and that not one—even the smallest—be lost or broken.”

The peasants promised; the meat was eaten, and in due time the household went to bed and to sleep.

Morning came; and with the first flush of light Thor arose, and, with his magic hammer, sat down beside the heap of bones, that lay upon the goat skins before the door.

“Kling! Kling! Kling!” sounded the hammer, striking in turn each little bone; then the two goats leaped forth, as white and plump and round as ever, and as ready to spin across the waters with the golden chariot of their master.

But alas, one goat was lame. He held up one tiny foot and moaned. “Some one of you,” roared Thor, “has broken a bone. Did I not command that you be careful, and see that every bone should be placed, uninjured, upon the goat skins?”

The peasants shook with fear. They knew now who this strange guest might be. “It is Thor!” they whispered to each other. “And that is the mighty hammer whose aim never fails, and whose force is death to all upon whom it falls!”

“O thou great god Thor,” cried the peasants, “spare us! Indeed had we known, not one bone would we have taken in our unhappy fingers; and all night long would we have watched beside the goat skins that no harm should come to them. Spare us, O spare us, great Thor! Take all we have—our house, our cattle, our children, everything—only spare our lives to us!”

Thor seized his hammer in his hand. His great knuckles grew white, so strong was his giant hold upon the handle. The peasants sank upon their knees. Their faces dropped and their eyes closed. Shaking with terror, they awaited the falling of the hammer.

“Up, up, ye peasants,” thundered Thor. “This offense I forgive. Your lives too, shall be spared you; but I will carry away with me these children of yours,—Thjalfe and Roskva; and they shall serve me in my journeys across the lands and over the seas.”

“The goats I leave with you; and I charge you, by your lives see that no harm comes to them in any way. Come Thjalfe, come Roskva, place yourselves before the chariot, and bear me quickly across the seas.”

All day long the chariot wheeled on and on, the children never tiring, until, at nightfall, they found themselves upon the shores of the country of the Frost giants.

Plunging into a deep forest, they hurried through and came out into a great plain beyond. Here they found a house, the very doors of which were as high as the mountains and as broad as the broadest river.

“We will rest here,” said Thor, and, spreading the great skins which they found near the doorway, they made for themselves beds, and soon were fast asleep.

At midnight they were awakened by a terrible roar. The whole house shook with its vibrations. Thor, seizing his hammer in his strong right hand, strode to the door. The whole earth trembled, but in the darkness even Thor could not see beyond the doorway.

Hour after hour he stood there, listening. Slowly, at last, the dawn began to come; the sun rose, and there, just at the edge of the forest, Thor saw the outstretched body of a giant, whose head was in itself a small mountain, and whose feet stretched away into the valley below.

“And it is you, then, that have rocked the very earth with your giant snores, and have taken from me my night of rest,” thought Thor, when he saw the giant form stretched out before him.

With one angry stride Thor reached the side of the sleeping giant. Raising his hammer a full mile into the air, he smote the giant full upon the skull, with a crash that sounded like the fall of a mighty oak.

“What is that?” asked the giant, opening his sleepy eyes. “Indeed, Thor, are you here? Something awoke me. I think an acorn must have dropped upon my head,” said the giant, gathering himself to rise.

“Go to sleep again,” growled Thor; “it isn’t morning yet. I am going to sleep myself.”

A few minutes and the snores of the giant rang through the air again.

“Now we will see,” thought Thor. Again he crept to the giant’s side. Lifting his hammer, this time two miles in the air, he brought it down upon the giant’s skull with a crash that sounded like the breaking of the ice and the roaring of the torrent in a mighty river.

“What is that?” muttered the giant, only half awake. “A leaf must have fallen upon my forehead. I will take myself out into the plain where I can sleep in peace.”

“Go to sleep,” answered Thor; “it is nearly morning, and will be time to wake up for the day before you reach the plain.”

Again the giant fell asleep; and again the snoring rang out upon the air. “He shall not escape me this time,” whispered Thor, creeping again to the giant’s side. Raising his hammer, this time three miles in the air, he crashed it down upon the forehead of the giant with such force and fury that the very heavens reverberated; and the earth people, springing frightened from their deep sleep, called to each other, “The dwarfs are at their forges! Did you not feel the earth shake and the mountains tremble?”

“Well, well,” droned the sleepy giant; “the moss from the trees falls upon my face and wakes me. It is nearly sunrise, and I may as well arise and go on to Utgard. And you, Thor,—I am told you, too, are journeying towards the land of Utgard. But I must hurry on. I will meet you there; but let me give you warning that we are a race of giants of no mean size. And great though you are, it would be as well for you that you boast not of your power among us. Even your mighty hammer might fail to do its work among giants of such strength and stature as those of Skrymer’s race.”

There was a sneer on Skrymer’s face as he said this; but before Thor could raise his hammer to punish him for his insolence, he had crossed the great plain, and was already miles away. Thor sat down beside the forest. He was mortified, and vexed, and puzzled. What did it mean? Had his hammer lost its magic power? Was the giant Skrymer immortal? He could not tell. There was a heavy cloud upon his face as he set forth again upon his journey. The little servants shook with fear; even Loke kept silent, and said not one word the live-long day.