d took up the sword; and lo! the
blade fell apart in his hand. They stood still and looked at each other.
"Can a man fear and make swords?" asked the boy. The dwarf said nothing,
but the forge fire flashed and sparkled, and the broken sword gleamed,
in the strangest way.

The boy smiled, and gathering up the pieces he ground them to fine
powder; and when he had done, he placed the precious dust in the forge
and pulled at the great bellows, so that the fire glowed into such a
shining that the whole cave was light.

But the dwarf grew blacker and smaller as he watched the boy. When he
saw him pour the melted steel in the mold and lay it on the fire, and
heard him singing at his work, he began to rage and cry; but Siegfried
only laughed and went on singing. When he took out the bar and struck it
into the water there was a great hissing, and the Mist-men stood there
with Mimi, and they raged and cried together. But still Siegfried only
laughed and sang as he pulled at his bellows or swung his hammers. At
every blow he grew stronger and greater, and the sword bent and quivered
like a living flame, until at last, with a joyful cry, he lifted it
above his head with both his hands; it fell with a great blow, and
behold! the anvil was severed, and lay apart before him.

The joy in Siegfried's heart grew into the most wonderful peace, and
the forge light seemed to grow into full day. The immortal sword was
again in the world. But Mimi and the Mist-men were gone.

And the musician shows in wonderful music-pictures how Siegfried went
out into the early morning, and how the light glittered on the trembling
leaves and sifted through in little splashes. He stood still, listening
to the stir of the leaves and the hum of the bees and the chirp of the
birds. Two birds were singing as they built a nest, and he wondered what
they said to one another. He cut a reed and tried to mock their words,
but it was like nothing. He began to wish that he might speak to some
one like himself, and he wondered about his mother; why had she left
him? It seemed to him he was the one lone thing in the world. He lifted
his silver horn and blew a sweet blast, but no friend came. He blew
again and again, louder and clearer, until suddenly the leaves stirred
to a great rustling; and the very earth seemed to tremble. He looked,
and behold! he had waked the dragon that all men feared; and it was
coming toward him, breathing fire and smoke. But Siegfried did n