Wotan and Loki swung themselves over the ledge and slid down into the murky cave where Alberich lived.
Wotan looked around and said:--
"So this is the Kingdom of the Nibelungs! What an awful place it is!"
From far down the passages came the sound of hundreds of slaves melting and welding precious metals for their master.
"Loki," said Wotan, "I believe it is always dark and gloomy where there is no love. What is that strange cry I hear?"
"Ho, Mimi, is that you?" said Loki. "Leave me alone!" cried Mimi.
"Then tell me what you are crying about?"
"Oh," replied Mimi, "that wretched Alberich, with his ring of gold, has made us all his slaves! With it he drives us down into the earth to dig more gold. What we get is all his. We slave for him both day and night.
"This curse of gold has filled our cavern with despair. Lately he made me forge a wishing-cap for him. With it he makes himself so none can see him. Now we slaves can never rest.Sh! sh!He is coming now!"
Wotan and Loki, peering through the darkness, could see him now and then as he passed under the light of a flaring torch.
He was driving a swarm of bent black slaves who were carrying great packs of gold and silver and precious ore upon their backs.
The helmet was hanging at his waist.
In his hand he was swinging a whip and the giants could hear him yelling:--
"Pile up the gold! Hurry! Hurry, you lazy rogues!"
Suddenly Alberich saw the giants.
"Who is this that dares come into my cave?" he cried. "Mimi, get back to your work!"
Then to all the other slaves he called:--
"Get below, every one of you! Crawl into your dingy shafts and dig the gold! Begone, I say! You must obey the master of the ring!"
As soon as the black swarm had crept away, Alberich spoke angrily to Wotan and Loki. "What do you want in here?"
"We just came to see you," said Wotan. "We hoped you might be glad to have us. We think you must be a very clever man. We have heard a great deal about the wonderful things you can do."
This pleased Alberich. He grew very proud and began to boast.
"See all this gold of mine!" he said.
"Yes," answered Loki; "it is the most gold I have ever seen, but what use is it? It does no one any good in here where nothing useful can be bought with it."
"I am heaping it up," said Alberich. "Some day, with this same treasure, heaped and hid, I hope to work some wonders. You shall see! I shall be master of the whole wide world! Ha! the smoke of Alberich's kingdom shall smudge even your flowery mountain-sides and your sparkling rivers. Everybody shall be my slave! Beware of this black Nibelung, I say, for he shall rule the world!"
Loki was very sly and cunning. While Alberich boasted, he was planning how he might trick the dwarf and take his gold.
To Alberich he said: "Surely, you will be the mightiest of men. But suppose that while you sleep, one of your slaves should creep upon you and steal your ring?"
Alberich smiled. "There is no danger of that," he said. "I will show you a trick or two. Do you see this helmet? It is a magic helmet. With it I can make myself so no one can see me, or I can change myself, quick as a flash, into anything I wish to be. So, you see, I am perfectly safe."
"I never heard of such wonders," answered Loki. "I really cannot believe it."
"I shall prove it to you," said the dwarf, never dreaming that the sly Loki was only laying a trap for him. "What form will you have me take?"
"Turn into anything you wish. Only let me see it done and then I shall believe."
Alberich put on the helmet. "Ho! Monster Dragon, come!" And quick as a flash he turned into a huge dragon.
Loki pretended to be frightened. As the fierce monster squirmed toward him, he made believe that he was going to rush from the cave.
The dragon vanished and there stood Alberich again.
"Now do you believe?" he asked.
"Indeed, I do," replied Loki. "It is wonderful. But if you could shrink to some tiny thing, it would be even much more clever, because you could creep into a crevice and spy upon your enemies. But, of course, getting small would be too hard a thing to do."
"Only tell me what you would have me be," said Alberich.
"Now I shall catch him," thought Loki. "Could you make yourself as little as a toad that quickly slinks under the rock when there is danger near?"
"Ha! Nothing easier," laughed Alberich.
And again putting the helmet on his head he coaxed:--
"Come, little toad! Creep from your cranny!" Alberich was gone, and there at Wotan's feet hopped the tiny toad.
"Quick, Wotan!" cried Loki.
And in an instant Wotan put his heavy foot upon the toad.
Loki reached down and took the magic wishing-cap.
As soon as the cap was off, the toad disappeared, and there lay Alberich, held fast by Wotan's giant foot.
"Let me go!" shrieked the dwarf. "Take your foot off of me, this minute!"
Wotan calmly answered: "You may go when you have promised all I ask."
"Then what do you want?" groaned Alberich.
"I want all your glittering gold," said Wotan.
Alberich held the ring close under his breast and muttered to himself: "They may have the gold! What do I care! With this ring I can soon make my slaves dig more."
Then aloud he said: "You may take the gold. My slaves shall heap it at your feet."
He slyly slipped his hand to his lips and, kissing the ring, called his slaves with its magic.
In a moment the little black Nibelungs came in swarms from every shaft, bearing the precious gold.
Alberich did not like to have them see him under Wotan's foot.
"Heap up the treasure!" he yelled. "Don't stop to stare at me. I am still your master. Now, crawl back into your shafts and drudge. I am coming in a minute, and it will not be well for you if I do not find you digging!"
Trembling with fear, they scurried to the darkest depths.
"Now, there is your gold!" said Alberich. "Give back my helmet and let me go!"
But Loki quickly tossed the helmet upon the shining heap.
"Take it, then," snarled the dwarf, thinking he could easily, with the power of the ring, force Mimi to make another, "but let me go, I say!"
"Just wait a minute, Alberich," said Wotan. "That ring I saw glittering on your finger,--I must have that too."
"The ring!" Alberich screamed in horror. "No, you shall never have the ring!"
Wotan's face grew stern.
"That ring does not belong to you. You stole its gold from the Rhine-children," he said.
"Think twice, Wotan, before you take this ring from me! I warn you now a curse goes with it."
But Wotan drew the ring from the dwarf's finger, then set him free.
"Farewell, Alberich! Farewell!"
"Ha!" laughed Alberich in scorn. "It will never bring you happiness. Its owner shall always feel its curse of care, sorrow, and unrest."
Then, turning, he groped his way down the cavern, far poorer than the day he went stealing along the slippery bed of the river. Then, he had no gold. Now, he had no gold and no friends.
Wotan and Loki hurried back to the mountain-side with their treasure.
At the same time Fafner returned, bringing Freya.
Already Fafner had made up his mind that if he gave Freya back, he must have a very great deal of gold.
When Freya again reached her own country, the sun grew brighter, the air grew sweeter, and the glow of youth came back to the cheeks of Wotan and his family.
"Here, Fafner, is your gold!" great Wotan cried.
"I am sorry to give Freya up," said Fafner. "Pile up the gold between her and me. You may keep her if there is gold enough to hide her completely from my sight. So long as I can see her, I cannot part with her."
Then Wotan and his family heaped the glittering gold. They piled it as loosely as they could, but when they had put on all the gold they had, the greedy Fafner cried:--
"More, more! It is not high enough! Still I can see fair Freya's shimmering hair. Throw on that shining helmet!"
"Put it on, Loki," commanded Wotan. "There, Fafner, is your pay. Freya again belongs to me."
"Not yet!" cried Fafner, as he peeped through a space in the heap. "I can see her eyes through here." Then, pointing to the ring on Wotan's finger: "Bring that ring and put it in this space."
"Never!" cried Wotan.
Then Loki spoke. "The ring belongs to the Rhine-maidens, and Wotan is going to return it to them. Already we have given you more than you should expect, all that shining heap and the helmet besides."
"I will not give you any more!" roared Wotan. "Not all the mighty world shall take this ring from my finger!"
"Then I shall be gone," said Fafner. "I was afraid you would not give me enough gold. Freya is mine forevermore."
Wotan's family began to plead for Freya. "She is worth more to us than all the gold in this world! Without her we must all wither and die!"
It was no use to resist. Wotan knew that he dared not lose Freya.
Taking the ring from his finger, he flung it upon the shining heap.
Fafner gathered up the hoard--the hoard for which he had worked--the hoard for which he had made so much trouble.
He carried it off to his own country. Now that he had it, he had no thought of using it.
He wanted it merely for gold's sake; not for the sake of the great, good things that might be done with it. The only thing he wished to do was to keep others from getting it.
He heaped it up in a cave in the forest. Then he put on the helmet and changed himself into a fierce, ugly dragon.
For the love of mere gold he was willing to give up being a splendid giant, who roamed freely over the beautiful mountains, and to become a hideous, twisting, squirming monster.
The rest of his life he would lie at the door of the cave and guard the treasure. The treasure should lie there useless to all the world.
Fafner,--a slave to gold!
As Fafner carried away his treasure, a great storm gathered over the mountain crest.
The sky grew black. The thunder rolled. Its echoes bounded on from cloud to cloud, from peak to peak, then rumbled down the valleys to the sea.
Then the clouds drifted away. The setting sun shot its long rays into the deep valley.
There, arching over the river and reaching from the flowery mountain-side to the very door of the gleaming castle, stood a shining rainbow bridge.
"Lo! our castle! Our beautiful Valhalla!" cried the king. "Let us cross over. It shall be our dwelling-place forevermore."
One by one they stepped upon the bridge.
As Wotan walked slowly and sadly over, he heard the wailing of the Rhine-maidens in the river below:--
"Rhine-gold! Rhine-gold!We long for your light!"
"I shall never be happy again," thought Wotan. "I have given my honor for Valhalla. What an awful price I have paid!"
i«»
Many years passed. The giants lived on in their beautiful Valhalla.
He Tugged In Vain
But their king was sad.
He could not forget Alberich's curse. What if Alberich should in some way gain possession of the ring again! He would destroy Valhalla.
"Oh, why was I not brave enough to give the ring back to the Rhine-children!" sighed Wotan.
"If only it might again be a mere thing of beauty to gladden their hearts, but so long as it is in the world, how many more will it not rob of their happiness.
"Surely, some great hero must come who will be brave enough to slay the dragon and give the ring back to its rightful owners."
Said Wotan to himself, "I shall make a mighty sword, and when the hero comes, his sword will be ready for him."
Then the great Wotan wrought a matchless sword.
When it was finished, he took it and went into the forest. Straight he went to the home of the bold robber Hunding.
It was a beautiful moonlight night when he reached Hunding's hut.
From the loud laughter and shouting that Wotan heard as he neared the hut, he knew that Hunding and his friends were having a merry feast.
Wotan lifted the latch and entered.
The great, rude room was built around the trunk of a mighty ash tree.
The walls were made of roughly hewn logs.
The floors were covered with the skins of wild animals of the forest.
Mats of reeds and grasses hung upon the walls.
The huge fireplace was built of rough stones.
The mighty Wotan scowled upon the crowd.
Then, lifting the gleaming sword above his head, with one great lunging blow, he buried the bright blade, even to its hilt, in the great ash tree's quivering side.
Then, turning to the guests, he said:--
"The sword shall belong to him who can draw it from the ash tree's heart."
Though each guest tugged with all his might, he tugged in vain.
In the years that followed, many came and went, and all tried hard to gain the sword, and still that magic blade slept on within the ash tree's sheath.
One very dark and stormy night, Siegmund, a brave warrior, wandered alone in the forest.
That day a desperate battle had been fought.
As the darkness came on, Siegmund escaped from the enemy.
He had lost his weapons, and now he trudged through the pathless woods, seeking some place where he might find balm for his wounds and shelter from the raging storm.
He was almost exhausted when he caught sight of a flickering candlelight in the window of a forest hut.
With the little strength that he had left, he dragged himself to its door.
No one answered his call, and no longer caring if it were the home of friend or foe, he opened the door, and staggering in he sank upon the hearth.
As he looked about him he thought, "This is the home of some forest chief."
A great fire burned in the rude fireplace, and, as he grew warm, being worn and weary, he sank into a heavy sleep.
As Siegmund slept, the door of the inner room was gently opened and a beautiful woman stole softly in.
She was clad in snowy white.
Her head was crowned with a wealth of golden hair.
She had heard Siegmund as he entered the room, and, thinking her chieftain had returned from the hunt, she came to greet him.
Instead she saw a stranger on the hearth, and, drawing near, she saw that his face looked sad and troubled.
"Who are you?" she asked, but Siegmund did not stir.
Then she knelt beside him and looked into his face.
It was the strong, noble face of a hero.
"He sleeps," she said. "How weak and weary he seems. Perhaps he has been wounded or is faint from hunger."
Siegmund roused and asked for water.
The woman ran quickly, and, bringing a cup of cold water, held it to his parched lips.
Siegmund drank. Then, gazing into the woman's kind face, he gasped: "Where am I?"
But, with a startled look, she stood in silence, listening to the heavy tread outside the door.
The next moment the chieftain entered and glared fiercely at Siegmund.
The woman hastened to say: "I found this stranger lying on our hearth. He was faint and needed help."
"And did you give it?" growled the chieftain.
"I gave him water. I could not drive him out into the stormy night."
The chieftain grew dark with anger as he said: "Because it is the sacred law of my country that none shall be turned from the door who seek shelter from the night, this intruder may stay until the morning. Then he shall fight for his life."
Siegmund knew now that he was in the house of the fierce Hunding.
Taking the woman by the arm, Hunding led her from the room, and Siegmund was left alone to think how he might save himself.
Long he leaned upon the hearth in troubled silence. Then, knowing he must flee, he turned toward the door.
That moment the last flickering light of the dying fire flashed upon the hilt of the magic sword in the ash tree.
Siegmund saw it, and, springing forward, he grasped its hilt. Then, bracing himself against the tree, with one mighty pull, behold! he drew the bright blade from its sheath.
Wotan gathered to Valhalla a company of nine war-maidens. They were called the Walküre.
Walküre
They were strong, beautiful young women, who rode through the clouds upon swift horses.
The horses could not only run on the ground; they could fly through the air.
The maidens wore wings upon their helmets, and each wore a splendid silver armor which glittered and flashed in the sunshine.
Wherever there was a battle on the earth, Wotan would send a battle-maiden for the most valiant hero on the field.
The maiden would fly over the battlefield and watch while the warriors fought.
When the bravest man was wounded, she would quickly swoop down, and, snatching him up, would fly with him to Valhalla, where he was revived by fair Freya.
Sometimes, when evening came, every one of the war-maidens rode into Valhalla carrying a noble hero.
This was Wotan's plan for protecting the palace.
After a while he would have at the castle a company of the bravest heroes of the earth.
He hoped he would then be happier.
The heroes would protect the beautiful Valhalla in time of danger.
Morning dawned.
The king of the giants went forth from his castle and called Brunhilde, his favorite battle-maiden.
He loved Brunhilde more than any other of the Walküre.
She was the bravest of them all.
He loved her as a father loves a daughter.
"Brunhilde," said Wotan, "to-day there is to be a fearful battle. The fierce Hunding is to fight with my dearest friend--the valiant Siegmund.
"Long have I wished to have my noble friend at Valhalla. Fly, Brunhilde, to the battlefield. Give to Siegmund the victory. Carry him here to dwell upon the heights."
At that moment Wotan's wife rushed to them in great anger.
"Wotan," she cried, "Siegmund must not be brought to Valhalla. I ask that my friend, the forest chief, shall be given aid. Send Brunhilde to bear Hunding to our castle."
"No," replied Wotan, "I must protect Siegmund. He it is who won my sword."
"Take the sword from him," replied Wotan's wife in rage. "I plead for Hunding's rights. Promise me that you will forbid your war-maiden to give aid to Siegmund."
Wotan's heart ached at the thought of failing this friend he loved so well.
On Siegmund were centered all his hopes. Yet he feared to refuse his wife's request.
Quarrels and strife must not come into Valhalla.
He threw himself upon a rocky seat and hung his head and thought in silence.
At length he said:--
"I promise. From Siegmund I withdraw my aid."
Now that Wotan's wife had gained his promise, she turned back to Valhalla.
Wotan buried his face in his hand and cried out in despair:--
"Oh, woe and shame upon the giants! What I love best I must give up. I lose the friend I hold most dear. All my hopes are vanishing. A short time and the giants will be no more."
Loudly he moaned: "This is the curse that clutched me when I snatched the glittering gold."
Brunhilde knelt at Wotan's feet, and, looking into his sad eyes begged:--
"Tell me, Father, what thy child can do. Trust me, Father!" she pleaded. "Tell me all your woe."
Wotan took her hands in his and told her the story of the ring.
How he had taken it from the finger of the dwarf.
How he had stooped to trickery and had stolen the gold with which to pay for Valhalla.
He told of the sad hearts of the Rhine-daughters, and of the greedy Fafner, lying at the door of his forest cave, guarding his hoard.
But last of all, he told of the dread of Alberich's curse.
He told of his fear that the black Nibelung might regain the ring and by its power destroy Valhalla.
When Brunhilde had heard the story of the curse, she said:--
"But, Father, Alberich could not destroy Valhalla. Think of all the heroes gathered there. Surely, they can protect it from all danger."
"Brunhilde, my child," sighed Wotan, "you do not know the power of that ring when it is in the hands of Alberich. Once he gains it, he can do with it what he will, because he has given up all love. With it, he could turn my friends into enemies. Our heroes would then fight for Alberich.
"I have long hoped that a hero might come who would be brave enough to slay the dragon. I hoped it might be Siegmund. But now I must desert him in his time of need. Though it breaks my heart, I must give him up.
"Darkness and gloom are fast gathering upon Valhalla. Go, Brunhilde. Go quickly to the battlefield and shield my wife's friend."
"No, no, Father, I cannot!" cried the battle-maiden. "You love Siegmund, and I shall guard him well."
At these words the mighty Wotan grew wrathful and cried:--
"How dare you disobey me, child? Go, I say! Give to Hunding the victory, and thus fulfill my promise."
Sadly Brunhilde took up her spear and shield and rode away to the battlefield.
Closely Brunhilde watched the struggle.
When she saw how fairly and valiantly the noble Siegmund fought, and how unfair and cowardly was the wicked Hunding, she thought:--
"I shall obey my king's wishes, not his words. He loves Siegmund."
She hovered nearer as the battle grew more terrible.
Suddenly she dashed to Siegmund's side and cried:--
"Slay him, Siegmund, with your matchless sword!"
Siegmund raised his sword to deal the deadly blow, when lo! Wotan dashed through a rift in the clouds and struck Siegmund's sword with his mighty spear.
The sword fell in pieces at the feet of Brunhilde. The victory belonged to Hunding.
Brunhilde, terrified by the angry Wotan, snatched up the broken pieces of the sword, and, springing to her saddle, dashed away.
Faster and faster she fled to the forest, bearing the broken blade to Siegmund's wife.
"Siegmund is slain!" she cried. "These are the pieces of his mighty sword. Keep them for your son, Siegfried. He will be brave like his father.
"Yes, Siegfried will be the bravest hero the world has ever known."
Then, springing again to her saddle, she fled toward the mountains.
"On! on! my fiery steed!" she urged.
No battle-maiden ever rode so fast.
If she could but reach the other battle-maidens before the wrathful Wotan overtook her, surely, they would protect her from his anger.
It was the custom for the battle-maidens to meet at Walküre Rock every evening at sunset. This was the highest peak in the mountains. From here they would ride into Valhalla, each carrying the hero whom she had snatched from the battlefield.
"Heiho! hoyotoho! heiho!" called each as she neared the peak, and "Heiho! hoyotoho! heiho!" came the answer.
At length all but one had reached the rock.
"Why does Brunhilde not come?" they asked of each other anxiously.
"What has happened that she should be so late?"
Loudly they called: "Heiho! hoyotoho! heiho!"
Looking toward the valley, they saw Brunhilde riding fast.
Her horse was flecked with foam.
"Heiho! hoyotoho! heiho!" they shouted; and "Heiho! hoyotoho! heiho!" came Brunhilde's answer.
She reached the peak and sprang from her saddle, crying:--
"Help me, Sisters! help me! I disobeyed our king!"
Even as she cried Wotan drew near.
"Where is Brunhilde?" he screamed in anger.
The skies grew black with the storm of his wrath.
"Every one of you who dares to shield her shall share her punishment."
Brunhilde, weeping, walked out from her hiding-place among her sisters.
Sinking at Wotan's feet she cried:--
"Here I am, Father. What punishment is mine?"
Wotan spoke in solemn tones:--
"Never again shall you see the beautiful Valhalla. Never shall you carry another hero to your king.
"You shall lie down upon this mountain peak, and here you shall sleep until some wanderer in passing shall awaken you, and his wife you shall be."
"You cannot mean it, Father! Anything but this! Never to see Valhalla? Never to ride with the Walküre? Father! Father! Take back these words of doom!" Brunhilde's sisters began to plead for her.
"Go!" he cried, "every one of you. Leave Brunhilde to me!"
Frightened by great Wotan's awful wrath, they spurred their horses and dashed away to Valhalla.
Slowly the storm clouds drifted away. The twilight came.
Still Brunhilde lay in fear and grief at Wotan's feet.
At length she lifted her sad eyes to Wotan and cried:--
"Was it so wrong, this thing that I have done? 'T is you who taught me to shield the brave and the true. I only sought to care for one you loved."
"Brunhilde, you disobeyed me. I have told you what your punishment shall be. I cannot change it."
"Then grant me, Father, this one wish: that you will make the place where I sleep so no coward can reach me. Make it so none but a hero will dare come near."
Then, taking Brunhilde in his arms, he said:--
"I grant your wish, my child. I shall encircle the place with magic fire. Only he who knows no fear may claim you for his bride."
Then Wotan kissed Brunhilde upon each eyelid, and she fell fast asleep.
Gently he bore her to a mossy mound beneath a spreading fir tree.
Laying her down, he looked long and lovingly upon her sweet, brave face.
He drew her helmet close over her eyes, and laid her shield upon her breast.
The flowers went to sleep.
Brunhilde's noble steed lay down and slept.
"Farewell, my child, most brave and beautiful!Thou life and light of all my heart, farewell!Pride of my soul, farewell, a long farewell!"
Wotan strode a few steps away from where Brunhilde slept, then struck the rock with his mighty spear.
Red flames shot up, leaping almost to the sky. They were magic flames and would not harm any one.
But they looked like real fire, and none but a hero would dare go into them.
They would frighten away all cowards.
Wotan walked around the peak, drawing a line with his spear.
From every place the spear touched the fire burst forth, until at length the mound where Brunhilde slept was entirely encircled by lurid flames.
Great Wotan looked upon his work. Then he turned and called to all the mountains and the valleys below:--
"Whoso dareth Wotan's spear,Whoso knoweth naught of fear,Let him burst these flames of war,Let him leap this fiery bar!"
i«»
The cunning Mimi secretly longed to steal out into the world and find that magic ring.
One night when all the other little Nibelungs were asleep, he slipped stealthily to his forge.
He gathered up his best tools.
Making sure that all were soundly sleeping, he stole quietly out.
What surprise and excitement there must have been the next morning when the little black Nibelungs found that Mimi had run away and had taken all of his best tools with him!
How they must have rushed about, each anxious to tell another the news of the missing Mimi!
Of course, Alberich guessed very quickly for what purpose his brother had gone.
And how Alberich must have raged when he thought of what a sad day it would be for him should Mimi become owner of that ring!
Mimi was strangely clever.
He said to himself: "That ring is hidden somewhere in the forest. I will go there and search until I know who has it. Then I will find some way of getting it."
On he went, until he came to the darkest place in the woods.
The boughs overlapped each other, so much that almost no sunshine could get through.
Mimi liked this place. It was soothing to his eyes, so used to the darkness of the Nibelungs' cavern.
Mimi had found the very forest which he sought to find.
This was the one in which the dragon lay guarding the hoard.
The sly dwarf caught a glimpse of the huge monster lying at the door of its cave.
Its great yawning jaws and sharp teeth filled him with terror.
Mimi darted into the underbrush. How glad he was that the monster had not seen him.
He shook and trembled with fear as he peeped at the loathsome creature.
Its body was covered with green scales. Poison breath came from its nostrils.
Its awful snake-like tail twisted and lashed about. In the end of the tail was a deadly sting.
"Alberich's ring is in that cave," thought Mimi. "Now close to this forest I must find a good little cavern in which to live.
"Then I can come often to watch the dragon.
"Some day I shall find a hero to slay this fierce monster. Then I shall slink into the cave and snatch the ring.
"Ho! ho! my brother Alberich! We shall see who shall be master and who shall be slave!"
Mimi found a cavern in a rocky cleft. It was just the kind of place he liked.
In it was just the right kind of rock for a forge.
There he hammered at weapons or chains or whatever happened to be his need.
Daily he sneaked about in the underbrush, watching the dragon, and daily he became more anxious to gain the gold.
He was such a coward that he was frightened at almost every animal he saw in the woods and startled by every sound.
One day, when he had ventured farther from his cave than usual, he was startled by a strange little cry.
He listened a moment and thought:--
"It sounds like the cry of a little child. I shall run to my cave."
But as he heard the cry again, something made him want to see what it was.
He slipped cautiously through the bushes, in the direction from which the sound came.
When he reached the place he found a little baby boy.
This was the same forest to which Brunhilde had fled, bearing the broken sword to Siegmund's wife.
But now the mother had died, and Siegmund's child was left alone in the woods.
Mimi was mean and selfish.
He would not even have cared for a little child alone in the woods had he not thought that by so doing he might gain something for himself.
As he looked at the baby he heard a strange voice saying:--
"Siegfried is his name, and only he who knows no fear can mend the sword."
"The sword? The sword?" questioned Mimi. "What does the voice mean?"
Going nearer to the child, he saw close beside it the broken pieces of Siegmund's sword.
Mimi picked up the pieces and looked at them.
"The finest piece of steel I ever saw," he chuckled, as he ran his fingers carefully along the keen edges.
Then he cried aloud in joy.
"At last I have found the hero! This little baby is the son of some valiant warrior. These are the broken pieces of the warrior's sword. Such luck for Mimi!
"The boy will be a warrior like his father. I shall take him to my cave and take good care of him.
"When he is grown up I will make him pay me for my care and pains. He shall slay the dragon. Then I will take the ring."
He lifted the little baby as gently as he knew how, and started toward his cave.
Again he heard the same strange voice:--
"Siegfried is his name, and only he who knows no fear can mend the sword."
"Ha! ha!" chuckled Mimi. "That voice does not know what a skillful smith Mimi is.
"I will mend the sword and Siegfried shall use it to slay the dragon."
He folded the baby close in his rough, black little arms.
"A few more years, a few more years," he gurgled in glee, "and Mimi's hands shall clutch the precious gold."