ns lighted near him. Glad was he to
see them, for he knew them to be Hugin and Munin, the sacred birds of
Odin, and he felt sure that they brought him words of cheer from the
All-Father. Then Hugin flapped his wings, and said, "In idleness the
stings of death lie hidden, but in busy action are the springs of life.
For a hundred years fair Brunhild slept, but why should Siegfried sleep?
The world awaits him, but it waits too long."

Then Munin flapped his wings also, but he said nothing. And busy memory
carried Siegfried back to his boyhood days; and he called to mind the
wise words of his father Siegmund, and the fond hopes of his gentle
mother, and he thought, too, of the noble deeds of his kinsfolk of the
earlier days. And he rose in haste, and cried, "Life of ease, farewell!
I go where duty leads. To him who wills to do, the great All-Father will
send strength and help."

While he spoke, his eyes were dazzled with a flash of light. He looked;
and the beaming Greyfell, his long mane sparkling like a thousand
sunbeams, dashed up the beach, and stood beside him. As the noble steed
in all his strength and beauty stood before him, the youth felt fresh
courage; for, in the presence of the shining hope which the All-Father
had given him, all hinderances seemed to vanish, and all difficulties to
be already overcome. He looked toward the sea again, and saw in the
blue distance a white-sailed ship drawing swiftly near, its golden
dragon-stem ploughing through the waves like some great bird of the
deep. And as with straining, eager eyes, he watched its coming, he felt
that Odin had sent it, and that the time had come wherein he must be up
and doing. The hour for thriving action comes to us once: if not seized
upon and used, it may never come again.

The ship drew near the shore. The sailors rested on their oars.
Siegfried and the steed Greyfell sprang upon the deck; then the sailors
silently bent again to their rowing. The flapping sails were filled and
tightened by the strong west wind; and the light vessel leaped from wave
to wave like a thing of life, until Isenstein, with its tall towers and
its green marble halls, sank from sight in the distance and the mist.
And Siegfried and his noble steed seemed to be the only living beings
on board; for the sailors who plied the oars were so silent and
phantom-like, that they appeared to be nought but the ghosts of the
summer sea-breezes. As the ship sped swiftly on its way, all the