d their pathway.

"Ah!" cried Siegfried, "there goes our friend Bruin, just in time to
give us a bit of fun, and some needed sport at dinner. He shall go with
us, and be our guest!"

With these words he loosed his hound, and dashed swiftly forwards after
the beast. Through thick underbrush and tangled briers, and over fallen
trees, the frightened creature ran, until at last it reached a steep
hillside. There, in a rocky cleft, it stood at bay, and fought fiercely
for its life. When Siegfried came up, and saw that his hound dared not
take hold of the furious beast, he sprang from his horse, and seized
the bear in his own strong arms, and bound him safely with a stout cord.
Then he fastened an end of the cord to his saddle-bows, and remounted
his steed. And thus he rode through the forest to the place where the
dinner waited, dragging the unwilling bear behind him, while the dog
bounded gayly along by his side.

No nobler sight had ever been seen in that forest than that which
Gunther's people saw that day. The Nibelungen king was dressed as well
became so great a hero. His suit was of the speckled lynx's hide and
rich black silk, upon which were embroidered many strange devices,
with threads of gold. (But, alas! between the shoulders was the silken
lime-leaf that Queen Kriemhild's busy fingers had wrought.) His cap was
of the blackest fur, brought from the frozen Siberian land. Over his
shoulder was thrown his well-filled quiver, made of lion's skin; and in
his hands he carried his bow of mulberry,--a very beam in size, and so
strong that no man save himself could bend it. A golden hunting-horn was
at his side, and his sunbright shield lay on his saddle-bow; while his
mighty sword, the fire-edged Balmung, in its sheath glittering with
gemstones, hung from his jewelled belt.

The men who stood around chief Hagen, and who saw the hero coming thus
god-like through the greenwood, admired and trembled; and Dankwart
whispered a word of caution to his dark-browed brother. But the old
chief's face grew gloomier than before; and he scowled fiercely upon the
faint-hearted Dankwart, as he hoarsely whispered in return,--

"What though he be Odin himself, still will I dare! It is not I: it is
the Norns, who shape every man's fate."

When Siegfried reached the camp with his prize, the huntsmen shouted
with delight; and the hounds howled loudly, and shook their chains, and
tried hard to get at the shaggy beast. The king leaped to