o him harm;
Even the plants and stones;
All save the mistletoe,
The sacred mistletoe!

Hoder, the blind old God,
Whose feet are shod with silence,
Pierced through that gentle breast
With his sharp spear, by fraud
Made of the mistletoe,
The accursed mistletoe!

They laid him in his ship,
With horse and harness,
As on a funeral pyre.
Odin placed
A ring upon his finger,
And whispered in his ear.

They launched the burning ship!
It floated far away
Over the misty sea,
Till like the sun it seemed,
Sinking beneath the waves.
Balder returned no more!

LONGFELLOW.

CHAPTER XIII

How Hermod Made a Journey to the Underworld

_This is the tale which the Northmen tell of how
Hermod journeyed to the Underworld to bring
back Balder the Beautiful to Asgard._

Of all the Asa folk most fleet of foot was Hermod, but on that sad eve
when Balder was laid upon the funeral pyre his step was lagging and
slow as he went to his home by the city wall.

As he approached, there met him in the gloom a vague figure, that
walked with outstretched hands and faltering steps like one that is
blind. And Hermod knew it to be the form of Hoder of the sightless
eyes, brother to Balder and to him.

But when he would have spoken Hoder brushed past, murmuring in his
ear:

"Take Sleipnir, Hermod, and set forth with dawn
To Hela's kingdom, to ask Balder back;
and they shall be thy guides who have the power."

Hermod bowed his head and passed on; but poor blind Hoder,
heartbroken, went his way to his own house and shut the door upon his
grief.

When the first rosy fingers of dawn touched the clouds of morning
Hermod led out Sleipnir, the steed of Odin, from Valhalla, and rode
away. Sleipnir was not wont to permit any to mount him, or even to
touch his mane, save the All-Father himself; but he stood meekly as
Hermod mounted; for he knew upon what errand they were bound.

Nine long days and nine long nights rode Hermod towards the realms of
ice and snow; and on the tenth morn he drew near to the golden bridge
which spanned Gioell, the greatest river in the world.

A maiden of pale and downcast mien kept this bridge, with unsleeping
vigilance, and she now challenged Hermod as he approached:

"Who art thou on thy black and fiery horse,
Under whose hoofs the bridge o'er Gioell's stream
Rumbles and