ered
Siegfried. "Go back to Rhineland yourself, if you are afraid; but you
must go alone. You have brought me thus far to meet the dragon of the
heath, to win the hoard of the swarthy elves, and to rid the world of
a terrible evil. Before the setting of another sun, the deed which you
have urged me to do will be done."

Then he dashed down the eastern slope of the mountain, leaving Greyfell
and the trembling Regin behind him. Soon he stood on the banks of the
white river, which lay between the mountain and the heath; but the
stream was deep and sluggish, and the channel was very wide. He paused
a moment, wondering how he should cross; and the air seemed heavy with
deadly vapors, and the water was thick and cold. While he thus stood in
thought, a boat came silently out of the mists, and drew near; and the
boatman stood up and called to him, and said,--

"What man are you who dares come into this land of loneliness and fear?"

"I am Siegfried," answered the lad; "and I have come to slay Fafnir, the
Terror."

"Sit in my boat," said the boatman, "and I will carry you across the
river."

And Siegfried sat by the boatman's side; and without the use of an oar,
and without a breath of air to drive it forwards, the little vessel
turned, and moved silently towards the farther shore.

"In what way will you fight the dragon?" asked the boatman.

"With my trusty sword Balmung I shall slay him," answered Siegfried.

"But he wears the Helmet of Terror, and he breathes deathly poisons, and
his eyes dart forth lightning, and no man can withstand his strength,"
said the boatman.

"I will find some way by which to overcome him."

"Then be wise, and listen to me," said the boatman. "As you go up from
the river you will find a road, worn deep and smooth, starting from
the water's edge, and winding over the moor. It is the trail of Fafnir,
adown which he comes at dawn of every day to slake his thirst at the
river. Do you dig a pit in this roadway,--a pit narrow and deep,--and
hide yourself within it. In the morning, when Fafnir passes over it, let
him feel the edge of Balmung."

As the man ceased speaking, the boat touched the shore, and Siegfried
leaped out. He looked back to thank his unknown friend, but neither boat
nor boatman was to be seen. Only a thin white mist rose slowly from the
cold surface of the stream, and floated upwards and away towards the
mountain-tops. Then the lad remembered that the strange boatman had worn