lofty than any King's he had ever looked on.

"Thou art going to choose a horse for thyself," said the stranger to
Sigurd.

"Yea, father," Sigurd said.

"Drive the herd first into the River," the stranger said.

Sigurd drove the horses into the wide River. Some were swept down by the
current, others struggled back and clambered up the bank of the
pastures. But one swam across the river, and throwing up his head
neighed as for a victory. Sigurd marked him; a gray horse he was, young
and proud, with a great flowing mane. He went through the water and
caught this horse, mounted him, and brought him back across the River.

"Thou hast done well," said the stranger. "Grani, whom thou hast got, is
of the breed of Sleipner, the horse of Odin."

"And I am of the race of the sons of Odin," cried Sigurd, his eyes wide
and shining with the very light of the sun. "I am of the race of the
sons of Odin, for my father was Sigmund, and his father was Volsung, and
his father was Rerir, and his father was Sigi, who was the son of Odin."

The stranger, leaning on his staff looked on the youth steadily. Only
one of his eyes was to be seen, but that eye, Sigurd thought, might see
through a stone. "All thou hast named," the stranger said, "were as
swords of Odin to send men to Valhalla, Odin's Hall of Heroes. And of
all that thou hast named there were none but were chosen by Odin's
Valkyries for battles in Asgard."

Cried Sigurd, "Too much of what is brave and noble in the world is taken
by Odin for his battles in Asgard."

The stranger leaned on his staff and his head was bowed. "What wouldst
thou?" he said, and it did not seem to Sigurd that he spoke to him.
"What wouldst thou? The leaves wither and fall off Ygdrassil, and the
day of Ragnaroek comes." Then he raised his head and spoke to Sigurd.
"The time is near," he said, "when thou mayst possess thyself of the
pieces of thy father's sword."

Then the man in the strange cloak of blue went climbing up the hill and
Sigurd watched him pass away from his sight. He had held back Grani, his
proud horse, but now he turned him and let him gallop along the River in
a race that was as swift as the wind.

[Illustration]

THE SWORD GRAM AND THE DRAGON FAFNIR

Mounted upon Grani, his proud horse, Sigurd rode to the Hall and showed
himself to Alv, the King, and to Hiordis, his mother. Before the Hall he
shouted out the Volsung name, and King Alv felt as he watched him that
this