"From the shores of Jötunheim," answered Ægir, "the sea has run back a quarter of a mile, drawing itself away as if a giant were drinking it in."
"Is that all you have got to say, father?" said a tall Wave, as she swept her hair over the Sea-King's shoulder, and peeped up from behind him; "is that all you know of the wonders which are going on in your deep home? Listen."
Then Ægir bent forward on his seat; the Æsir all ceased speaking, and drew in their breath; the waves raised their arched necks, and were still, listening. From a great way off came the sound of a sullen swell.
"Who is that speaking?" asked Odin.
"That is Jörmungand speaking," said Thor.
"And what does he say, Thor?"
"He says that I could not conquer him."
"Pass round the foaming mead," cried Ægir, who saw that it was time to turn the conversation.
But alas! Ægir's mead-kettle was so small, that before it had gone half down the table it stood empty before Tyr.
"There is a giant called Hymir," remarked Tyr, "who lives far over the stormy waves to eastward at the end of heaven."