es and lava streams of inner earth should lie
between him and the world of Opal?

He had gone too far to turn back. So Odin went on cautiously. As he neared
the red glow, he saw that it was only a campfire dying down to coals. But
from the darkness came such a clamoring of hisses, groans, and screeches
that he could feel goose-pimples popping out on his arms.

His rifle held a clamp for his flash. Making gun and light ready, he
advanced cautiously, still unable to determine what was happening except
that one hell of a fight was going on. Then a coal burst into quick flame
and he could see the struggle. A broad-shouldered man, stripped to the
waist, was fighting with one of the saurians. He had closed its long mouth
with a huge hand and was striking again and again at the white throat with
a broad-bladed knife. The thing was screeching and clawing at the man's
arm. Its razored tail was lashing forward--and the man was dodging it as he
kept backing in a circle and thrusting the head upward and backwards. Both
brute and man were streaming blood. The man made no sound other than an
occasional savage grunt as his blade struck deep through the horny hide of
the thing. The Saurian became wilder with each blow.

It was a long shot. But Jack Odin made it. Both man and reptile quickened
into momentary stone as his light centered its beam upon them. Odin aimed
and fired. The heavy bullet shattered the top of the saurian's head.

Then Odin was running forward, calling out in the language of Opal. The
broad-shouldered man kicked the wriggling carcass of the thing out of the
way and threw a few sticks upon the coals. They flamed up. The man sat down
calmly, though still gasping for breath, and began to wipe the blade of his
knife upon his thigh.

He had regained some of his breath when Odin reached him. Rubbing a gashed
forearm and smiling as though such a meeting were an every-day occurrence
he called out cheerfully.

"Ho, Nors-King. I knew you would come. Sooner or later you would be here
and we would go hunting together."

The man was Gunnar, successor to Jul, and Chief of the Neeblings!

CHAPTER 3

Going to the pool, Gunnar began to wash his bleeding arms. "Yes, Old Gunnar
knew you would be here, Jack Odin, for it was writ in runes of silver long
ago that a man will go to the gates of death and brave Old Nidhug the
dragon there to find his maid."

"And how is she, Gunnar? Where is she?"

But the dwarf did not