Adapted by Anna McCaleb

After Balder's death the gods felt that they had little to make them happy. Their thoughts dwelt always on their loss, or on their desire to punish Loki; and in neither of these thoughts was there any joy, for to the pure minds of the gods, the thought of violence could bring nothing but pain.

One day the sea-god Aegir sent to the dwellers in Asgard an invitation to a banquet in his sea caverns, and all accepted except Thor, who had business that called him elsewhere. On the appointed morning they appeared at Aegir's palace, and while at first they forced themselves to smile and appear cheerful, in compliment to their host, they soon found themselves, because of the novelty of all about them, becoming genuinely interested. The palace was of coral, pink and white—rough on the outside, but smooth and polished within; and the floors were strewn with sand so fine and white that it looked like marble. Draperies of bright- colored seaweed hung everywhere, and the gay sea flowers met their eyes at every turn, while the dishes and cups in which the feast was served were the most delicate pearl-tinted shells. Strange opal lights filtered through the water and into the banqueting hall, and great whales and sea snakes looked in through the windows on the gods as they sat at table.

All was cheerfulness and merriment, but suddenly the gods felt a chill come over them, as if a wind from Hela's ice-bound realm had rushed past. Turning, they saw Loki on the threshold. With a muttered excuse for his lateness he slipped into his seat; and then, since none except his host greeted him, and since the merry talk was not resumed, he glanced about the table and said:

"Pretty manners are these! Does no one pledge me in wine? Does no one have a word for me?"

Painfully the gods forced themselves to take up their conversation, though all avoided talking directly to Loki, whose expression became more lowering every moment. At length Odin turned to his host.

"This servant, Funfeng, is deft and skilful. Even in my palace I have not his superior."

Aegir bowed. "Since the king of the gods is pleased with Funfeng, Funfeng is no longer my servant, but the servant of Odin. He shall wait upon the heroes in Valhalla."

With a cry of jealous rage Loki sprang to his feet. "Never!" he cried, and he struck Funfeng so violently that he fell dead.

All the gods leaped up, and they drove Loki from the palace, commanding him never to appear in their presence again; but scarcely had they seated themselves to resume their interrupted feast, when the crafty god again entered the room. Not waiting for them to speak, he began to revile them. His words came in a rapid stream; he stopped not to draw breath. Beginning with Odin, he attacked the gods in turn, mocking their physical peculiarities, recounting every deed which they had done that was not to their credit, shaming them because he had always been able to elude them easily, and because only he could help them out of their difficulties. Finally he came to Sif, Thor's golden-haired wife, whom long before he had robbed of her tresses.

"As for Sif," he began, "I could tell a tale of her that—"

But he went no further, for a peal of thunder drowned his words, and a blinding flash of lightning made him cover his eyes with his hands. The gods sighed in relief, for Thor stood among them, his eyes shooting fire.

"Already," he cried, "has Aegir's palace been stained with blood to-day. I will not, therefore, kill you here. But if ever you appear before my eyes again, I shall smite you; and if ever you dare to speak Sif's name, I shall hear it though I am in the uttermost parts of the earth, and I shall have vengeance."

"Well spoken, son Thor," said Odin. "But I too have something to say to Loki. We shall permit you to go unharmed to-day, but if you care for your life, hide yourself. We shall seek you; and the gods have keen eyes. And if we find you out, you shall die."

Sullen, frightened, Loki withdrew. He wandered about long in the most barren, desolate parts of the earth, cursing the gods and hating himself. At length he found a spot which he felt sure would be hidden even from Odin's eyes. It was in a steep, rocky valley, where nothing grew, and where no sound ever came except the weird noise of the wind as it swept through the narrow passes, and the chatter of a mountain stream as it leapt down the rocks.

Here, in this solitary place, Loki built himself a hut of piled-up rocks. Four walls had the hut, and in each wall was a door, for Loki wished to be able to see the gods, from whatever direction they approached, and to make his escape. He had always been a famous fisherman, and now the fish which he took from the stream formed his only food.

Sometimes he changed himself into a salmon and floated about in the quieter places of the stream. He never talked with the other fish who lived in the stream, but somehow he felt less lonely with those living things about him than he did in his solitary hut on the mountain side.

One day (for Loki was a very clever workman) he began to fashion something, the like of which there had not been in the world before. This was a net for fishing; and so interested did Loki become in twisting and knotting the cords, that he almost forgot to keep watch for his enemies, the gods. The net was almost finished, when one afternoon Loki raised his head and saw through one of his doors three gods approaching—Odin, Thor and Heimdal, wisest of the gods. With a curse he tossed his net upon the fire—"THEY shall never have it!"—and slipped from his hut. Splash! And there was a huge salmon deep down in the stream, while Loki was nowhere to be seen.

The gods were greatly disappointed when they entered the hut; they had been so sure that at last they had found the hiding place of the wicked one, and it seemed they had missed him again. However, they knew his power of disguising himself, and they were not utterly discouraged.

"He has not been gone long," said Heimdal, "for look—the fire still burns. And what is this upon the fire?" And he drew out the partly burned fish net.

"What can it be?" asked Odin. "It is too coarse for any sort of covering for the body, and not strong enough to use in entangling an enemy."

"Wait!" said Heimdal. "I have it—I have it! It's a net for fishing—
Loki was always a fisherman. See," he exclaimed excitedly, "you take it
SO," thrusting one end into Thor's hand, "and you drag it through the
water SO. The water runs through and the fish are held. O, clever Loki!"

"But why," asked Thor, "should he burn it up, when he has spent so much work upon it?"

"I don't know," said Heimdal musingly, "unless—unless. Where could he hide except in that stream, and how could he conceal himself there without changing himself to a fish? Mark my words. Loki is there, and he feared we might catch him with his own net."

"That," said Odin, "would be a form of justice for which one would scarcely dare hope. I fear the net is too badly burned for use."

"Not so," replied Heimdal. "Here is more flax, and we can easily repair the damage the fire has done."

So the three gods sat upon the floor of the hut and mended the burned net, keeping an eye always on the stream, that Loki might not make his escape. And when the net was ready they went forth, and with it dragged the stream. Not a fish did they catch, for Loki had frightened the real fish away, and he himself was hiding between two big stones, so that the net passed over him.

"The thing is too light," said Thor. "It does not touch the bottom."

"That we can soon change," replied Heimdal, and he set about fastening stones to the lower edge of the net.

Again they began to drag the river, and this time Loki feared that he could not escape. But just as the net almost touched him, he gave a mighty leap and sprang clear of the net. The silvery flash, the sudden splash, startled the gods, so that they almost dropped the net; but it told them what they wanted to know—Loki WAS in the stream. Turning, they dragged the net down the stream, driving Loki nearer and nearer to the sheer drop of the waterfall, down which he dared not plunge. Desperate, he made another leap, and again he almost escaped; but Thor's quick eyes saw him, Thor's strong, iron-gloved hand gripped him. The great salmon struggled, but Thor held it fast by the tail, and finally flung it out upon the bank.

[Illustration: THOR'S HAND GRIPPED HIM]

Loki, within the fish, vowed to himself that he would not return to his own shape; but the fish's body could not live long out of the water, and soon he found himself growing weak and faint. At length, therefore, he was obliged to assume his own form, and there he stood, handsome, but evil-looking, before the waiting gods.

"It hurts us," said Odin, "that we should be forced to treat one of our own kind in this way. Perhaps even now—tell us that you do regret your past wickedness, that you are sorry for the trouble you have caused the gods, that you grieve sometimes for Balder's death."

"I grieve," said Loki, "only that I have caused so little trouble among the gods; I regret only that the days for pitting my cleverness against your stupidity are at an end—for I ask for no mercy. As for Balder's death, it has been my chief cause for rejoicing as I have dwelt here in this solitary place."

Shocked by his hardness, the gods led him away to the punishment which they had planned for him. The other gods met them by the way, and troops of dwarfs and elves and human beings and animals sprang up on every side, and followed them. And in the hearts of all these followers there was joy, for Loki had never done them anything but harm; and besides, had he not slain Balder, the beautiful, the beloved?

But in the hearts of the gods there was pain, for Loki was of their own number, and far back in the beginnings of time, before he had become wicked, he had been their great pride, by reason of his cleverness.

They passed, a noisy procession, to a dark, underground cavern, a damp, slimy place, where snakes looked out from their holes, and toads sat upon the stones. Here were three sharp-pointed rocks, which Thor pierced with holes; and to these rocks they bound the wretched Loki with chains of adamant.

"Here he shall stay," said Odin, "until the last great day shall come for gods and men."

A giantess, whose son Loki had killed, came with a great serpent, which she fastened directly over Loki's head; and from the serpent's mouth dripped poison, which fell, drop by drop, upon Loki's upturned face. His wife, Sigyn, could not bear to see her husband in such agony, so she took her stand beside him, cup in hand, and caught the poison as it fell. There through the ages on ages she stood, relieving Loki's pain, and trying to cheer him, for whom there was no cheer. When the cup was filled and she had to go to the cavern's mouth to empty it, then the venom fell on Loki's face, and in his terrible pain he struggled and writhed until the earth shook. And all the people, startled at their work or from their sleep, cried, "Loki's earthquake!"