of iron, and this, with two feathers from the wings of the wind,
was heated to melting whiteness, and wrought with great cunning and
extreme care, for it was to be a spear for Odin himself, the greatest
of all the heroes.

Then Brok and Sindri called Loki to them and giving him these three
things bade him hasten back to the gods at Asgard and appease their
wrath. Loki, however, was already beginning to feel sorry that he had
been so successful; he liked teasing folk but he did not like having
to atone for his mischief afterwards. He turned the marvelous gifts
over scornfully in his hands, and said that he did not see anything
very wonderful in _them;_ then, looking at Sindri he added, "However,
Brok has hammered them very skilfully, and I will wager my head that
you could not make anything better."

Now the brother dwarfs had not by any means expected gratitude,
but neither had they expected any such rudeness as this, so Sindri
determined to give Loki a lesson. Going to one corner of the smithy
he picked up a pig-skin and taking the hammer in his hands, told
his brother to blow steadily, neither to falter nor to fail until
he passed the word that the work was done. Then with strength and
gentleness he wrought with his tools, having cast nothing into the
heat but the pig-skin; with mighty blows and delicate touches he
brought thickness and substance into it, until a board looked at him
from the flames. Loki, fearing for his head, changed himself into an
enormous forest fly, and settling upon Brok's hand, stung with vicious
fury; but the dwarf would not trouble to brush the fly away, and
steadily moved the bellows until his brother called to him to stop,
when they drew forth a strong flexible boar whose bristles were of the
finest gold.

Then without saying anything or paying any attention to the spiteful
words which Loki kept uttering, Sindri chose from a heap of gold the
most solid lump he could find and flung it into the white flames.
Thrice it was heated and cooled, and the dark elf turned it and worked
it with wonderful skill, and in the glow Loki saw a broad red ring,
which seemed to live and move. Again he tried to spoil the work as a
fly, and bit deeply into Brok's neck, but Brok would not so much as
raise his hand to rid him of the pain. When the ring was finally laid
to cool, so marvelously had it been wrought that from it each ninth
night would fall eight rings as beautiful as itself.

Now came the last