valleys into which the sun hardly looked during half the year, and
swift-rushing streams, cold as ice, and treacherous to the surest foot
and the strongest arm. Not a bird flew through the air, not an animal
sprang through the trees. It was as still as a desert. The gods walked
on and on, getting more tired and hungry at every step. The sun was
sinking low over the steep, pine-crested mountains, and the travellers
had neither breakfasted nor dined. Even Odin was beginning to feel the
pangs of hunger, like the most ordinary mortal, when suddenly, entering
a little valley, the famished gods came upon a herd of cattle. It was
the work of a minute to kill a great ox and to have the carcass
swinging in a huge pot over a roaring fire.

But never were gods so unlucky before! In spite of their hunger, the pot
would not boil. They piled on the wood until the great flames crackled
and licked the pot with their fiery tongues, but every time the cover
was lifted there was the meat just as raw as when it was put in. It is
easy to imagine that the travellers were not in very good humour. As
they were talking about it, and wondering how it could be, a voice
called out from the branches of the oak overhead, "If you will give me
my fill, I'll make the pot boil."

The gods looked first at each other and then into the tree, and there
they discovered a great eagle. They were glad enough to get their supper
on almost any terms, so they told the eagle he might have what he wanted
if he would only get the meat cooked. The bird was as good as his word,
and in less time than it takes to tell it supper was ready. Then the
eagle flew down and picked out both shoulders and both legs. This was a
pretty large share, it must be confessed, and Loki, who was always angry
when anybody got more than he, no sooner saw what the eagle had taken,
than he seized a great pole and began to beat the rapacious bird
unmercifully. Whereupon a very singular thing happened, as singular
things always used to happen when the gods were concerned: the pole
stuck fast in the huge talons of the eagle at one end, and Loki stuck
fast at the other end. Struggle as he might, he could not get loose, and
as the great bird sailed away over the tops of the trees, Loki went
pounding along on the ground, striking against rocks and branches until
he was bruised half to death.

The eagle was not an ordinary bird by any means, as Loki soon found
when he begged for mercy. The giant Th