his face when he was told of the oaths that had been
taken.

"Why do you look so grave, my lord?" demanded Frigga at last. "Baldur
cannot die now."

But Odin asked very gravely, "Is the shadow gone out of our son's
heart, or is it still there?"

"It cannot be there," said Frigga, turning away her head resolutely,
and folding her hands before her.

But Odin looked at Baldur, and saw how it was. The hands pressed to
the heavy heart, the beautiful brow grown dim. Then immediately he
arose, saddled Sleipnir, his eight-footed steed, mounted him, and,
turning to Frigga, said, "I know of a dead prophetess, Frigga, who,
when she was alive, could tell what was going to happen; her grave
lies on the east side of Helheim, and I am going there to awake her,
and ask whether any terrible grief is really coming upon us."

So saying Odin shook the bridle in his hand, and the eight-footed,
with a bound, leaped forth, rushed like a whirlwind down the mountain
of Asgard, and then dashed into a narrow defile between rocks.

Sleipnir went on through the defile a long way, until he came to a
place where the earth opened her mouth. There Odin rode in and down a
broad, steep, slanting road which led him to the cavern Gnipa, and the
mouth of the cavern Gnipa yawned upon Niflheim. Then thought Odin to
himself, "My journey is already done." But just as Sleipnir was about
to leap through the jaws of the pit, Garm, the voracious dog who was
chained to the rock, sprang forward, and tried to fasten himself upon
Odin. Three times Odin shook him off, and still Garm, as fierce as
ever, went on with the fight. At last Sleipnir leaped, and Odin thrust
just at the same moment; then horse and rider cleared the entrance,
and turned eastward towards the dead prophetess's grave, dripping
blood along the road as they went; while the beaten Garm stood baying
in the cavern's mouth.

When Odin came to the grave he got off his horse, and stood with his
face northward, looking through barred enclosures into the city of
Helheim itself. The servants of Hela were very busy there making
preparations for some new guest--hanging gilded couches with curtains
of anguish and splendid misery upon the walls. Then Odin's heart died
within him, and he began to repeat mournful runes in a low tone.

The dead prophetess turned heavily in her grave at the sound of his
voice, and sat bolt upright. "What man is this," she asked, "who dares
disturb my sleep?"

Then Odin, fo