e pride of
the Volsungs,--a tree whose blossoms filled the air with fragrance, and
whose green branches, thrusting themselves through the ceiling, covered
the roof with fair foliage. It was Odin's tree, and King Volsung had
planted it there with his own hands.

"On a day in winter King Volsung held a great feast in his hall in honor
of Siggeir, the King of the Goths, who was his guest. And the fires
blazed bright in the broad chimneys, and music and mirth went round. But
in the midst of the merry-making the guests were startled by a sudden
peal of thunder, which seemed to come from the cloudless sky, and which
made the shields upon the walls rattle and ring. In wonder they looked
around. A strange man stood in the doorway, and laughed, but said not a
word. And they noticed that he wore no shoes upon his feet, but that
a cloud-gray cloak was thrown over his shoulders, and a blue hood was
drawn down over his head. His face was half-hidden by a heavy beard; and
he had but one eye, which twinkled and glowed like a burning coal. And
all the guests sat moveless in their seats, so awed were they in the
presence of him who stood at the door; for they knew that he was none
other than Odin the All-Father, the king of gods and men. He spoke not
a word, but straight into the hall he strode, and he paused not until
he stood beneath the blossoming branches of the tree. Then, forth from
beneath his cloud-gray cloak, he drew a gleaming sword, and struck the
blade deep into the wood,--so deep that nothing but the hilt was left
in sight. And, turning to the awe-struck guests, he said, 'A blade
of mighty worth have I hidden in this tree. Never have the earth-folk
wrought better steel, nor has any man ever wielded a more trusty sword.
Whoever there is among you brave enough and strong enough to draw it
forth from the wood, he shall have it as a gift from Odin.' Then slowly
to the door he strode again, and no one saw him any more.

"And after he had gone, the Volsungs and their guests sat a long time
silent, fearing to stir, lest the vision should prove a dream. But at
last the old king arose, and cried, 'Come, guests and kinsmen, and set
your hands to the ruddy hilt! Odin's gift stays, waiting for its fated
owner. Let us see which one of you is the favored of the All-Father.'
First Siggeir, the King of the Goths, and his earls, the Volsungs'
guests, tried their hands. But the blade stuck fast; and the stoutest
man among them failed to mov