at so we may know whether you
can place your trust in it."

And Mimer looked long at the ruddy hilts of the weapon, and at the
mystic runes that were scored upon its sides, and at the keen edge,
which gleamed like a ray of sunlight in the gathering gloom of the
evening. But no word came from his lips, and his eyes were dim and
dazed; and he seemed as one lost in thoughts of days long past and gone.

Siegfried raised the blade high over his head; and the gleaming edge
flashed hither and thither, like the lightning's play when Thor rides
over the storm-clouds. Then suddenly it fell upon the master's anvil,
and the great block of iron was cleft in two; but the bright blade was
no whit dulled by the stroke, and the line of light which marked the
edge was brighter than before.

Then to the flowing brook they went; and a great pack of wool, the
fleeces of ten sheep, was brought, and thrown upon the swirling water.
As the stream bore the bundle downwards, Mimer held the sword in its
way. And the whole was divided as easily and as clean as the woollen
ball or the slender woollen thread had been cleft before.

"Now, indeed," cried Mimer, "I no longer fear to meet that upstart,
Amilias. If his war-coat can withstand the stroke of such a sword as
Balmung, then I shall not be ashamed to be his underling. But, if this
good blade is what it seems to be, it will not fail me; and I, Mimer the
Old, shall still be called the wisest and greatest of smiths."

And he sent word at once to Amilias, in Burgundy-land, to meet him on
a day, and settle forever the question as to which of the two should be
the master, and which the underling. And heralds proclaimed it in every
town and dwelling. When the time which had been set drew near,
Mimer, bearing the sword Balmung, and followed by all his pupils and
apprentices, wended his way towards the place of meeting. Through the
forest they went, and then along the banks of the sluggish river, for
many a league, to the height of land which marked the line between King
Siegmund's country and the country of the Burgundians. It was in this
place, midway between the shops of Mimer and Amilias, that the great
trial of metal and of skill was to be made. And here were already
gathered great numbers of people from the Lowlands and from Burgundy,
anxiously waiting for the coming of the champions. On the one side were
the wise old Siegmund and his gentle queen, and their train of knights
and courtiers and