he elm, Embla, or two blocks of wood,
hewn into rude semblances of the human form. The gods gazed at first
upon the inanimate wood in silent wonder; then, perceiving the use it
could be put to, Odin gave these logs souls, Hoenir bestowed motion
and senses, and Lodur contributed blood and blooming complexions.

Thus endowed with speech and thought, and with power to love and to
hope and to work, and with life and death, the newly created man and
woman were left to rule Midgard at will. They gradually peopled it
with their descendants, while the gods, remembering they had called
them into life, took a special interest in all they did, watched over
them, and often vouchsafed their aid and protection.

The Tree Yggdrasil

Allfather next created a huge ash called Yggdrasil, the tree of the
universe, of time, or of life, which filled all the world, taking
root not only in the remotest depths of Nifl-heim, where bubbled the
spring Hvergelmir, but also in Midgard, near Mimir's well (the ocean),
and in Asgard, near the Urdar fountain.

From its three great roots the tree attained such a marvellous height
that its topmost bough, called Lerad (the peace-giver), overshadowed
Odin's hall, while the other wide-spreading branches towered over the
other worlds. An eagle was perched on the bough Lerad, and between
his eyes sat the falcon Vedfolnir, sending his piercing glances down
into heaven, earth, and Nifl-heim, and reporting all that he saw.

As the tree Yggdrasil was ever green, its leaves never withering,
it served as pasture-ground not only for Odin's goat Heidrun, which
supplied the heavenly mead, the drink of the gods, but also for the
stags Dain, Dvalin, Duneyr, and Durathor, from whose horns honey-dew
dropped down upon the earth and furnished the water for all the rivers
in the world.

In the seething cauldron Hvergelmir, close by the great tree, a
horrible dragon, called Nidhug, continually gnawed the roots, and
was helped in his work of destruction by countless worms, whose aim
it was to kill the tree, knowing that its death would be the signal
for the downfall of the gods.

"Through all our life a tempter prowls malignant,
The cruel Nidhug from the world below.
He hates that asa-light whose rays benignant
On th' hero's brow and glitt'ring sword bright glow."

Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson).

Scampering continually up and down the branches and trunk of the
tre