ad seated himself upon the hearth,
and was watching the Mime.

"Listen!" he said, beholding the Mime's fear; "ask of me what thou
wilt and I shall lighten thy burden, be it what it may." He looked
long and curiously at the Mime and could read his heart.

"Wilt answer me three questions?" the Mime demanded.

"Aye--and stake my head upon the truth of the answers."

"Then tell me what race it is that dwells in the depths of the earth."

"It is the Nibelung race, and Nibelheim is their land. There, all are
black elves, and once upon a time, Alberich was their lord. He tamed
them with the spell of a magic ring formed of the Rheingold. Ask on."

"What is the race which dwells upon the surface of the earth?" The
Mime asked, less timidly.

"It is the race of Giants. Riesenheim is their land and Fasolt and
Fafner were their rulers, but, possessing themselves of the Nibelung's
gold, they fought, and one killed the other; till now, Fafner alone,
in the form of a dragon, guards the hoard and ring. Speak on."

"Thou hast told me much," the Mime said, wondering. "But now canst
thou tell me who are they who dwell upon cloud-hidden heights?"

"They are the Eternals, and Walhall is their home. Wotan commands that
world. He shaped his spear from the branches of an ash tree, and with
that spear he rules the Gods. Whoever wields that spear rules all the
giants and the Nibelungs." As if by accident, Wotan--the
Wanderer--struck the spear he carried upon the ground and a low roll
of thunder responded. The Mime was terror-stricken.

"Well, Mime, is my head which I pledged to thee, free?"

"Aye, go."

"If thou hadst welcomed me, I could have solved thy problems for thee,
but I had to pledge my head to thee before I could rest here. So now,
by the law of wager, this matter is now reversed. It is for thee to
answer me three questions--or lose thy head. Tell me, then: What race
does Wotan the War-god favour?"

"Ah, I can answer that: it is the Waelsungs--a race sprung from wolves.
The Waelsungs' mightiest son is his care. His name is Siegfried."

"Now tell me the name of the sword with which this same Siegfried is
bound to conquer the world, to kill the dragon Fafner, and to get the
Rheingold and the ring?"

"The name of the sword is Nothung," the dwarf replied, not daring to
keep silence.

"Now one more answer, as wise as those gone before, and thy head is
free: Who shall fashion this same sword, Nothung, for Siegfried?"

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