he Asas
in his rage, had not Thor at that moment dashed up the Rainbow Bridge
in his chariot drawn by goats. For all this while Thor, the strongest
of the Asas, had been away on a long journey; and had this not been
so, the giants would have had little cause to fear.

Springing from his chariot as the furious giant was about to pull the
roof off Valhalla, Thor gave him so mighty a blow on the head with his
huge hammer that his skull broke into little bits and his body fell
down into the Land of Mists.

"Take that for your wages," roared Thor, as he swung his hammer on
high, "and in this same manner will I repay all of the race of Frost
Giants who seek to set foot in Asgard."

And so in this way was built for the Asas a fortress so strong that
none of the giant folk could dare to raise hand against it. But always
it lacked three stones in the gateway, for no one except a Frost Giant
could lift such mighty blocks into place.

CHAPTER V

The Magic Mead

_This is the tale the Northmen tell of how All-Father Odin
brought the Magic Mead to Asgard._

There once lived among the earth-dwellers a certain man named Kvasir,
who was very wise. He did not keep his wisdom to himself, as Mimir
did, but went his way through all the world, answering questions and
sharing his gift with those who cared for it. And wherever he went men
were the better for his silver words, for Kvasir was a poet, the first
who ever lived, and by his gift of poetry he made glad the hearts of
gods and men.

Now when the dwarf people saw how Kvasir was loved and honoured, they
grew jealous of him, and plotted to work him evil. So two of their
number, called Fialar and Galar, met Kvasir one day and begged him to
visit their cave under the earth and to take counsel with them
concerning a very secret and important matter.

Glad, as was his wont, to help others, Kvasir agreed, whereupon the
dwarfs conducted him into a dark and dismal place underground; and
there, taking him unawares, they treacherously slew him, and poured
his blood into three jars. This they mixed with honey, and thus made a
Magic Mead, of such a nature that whoever drinks of it receives the
gift of poesy, and his speech is silver and his heart is filled with
wisdom.

It was not long before the gods in Asgard, missing the sweet sound of
Kvasir's voice throughout the earth, began to make inquiries as to
what had become of him.

The wicked dwarfs had spread the report that th