“I will go,” cried Siegfried, eagerly; “for though the monster be all that you have said, with Greyfel and my sword Balmung I fear neither man nor beast.”
The following day Siegfried bade farewell to King Alf and started on his journey, taking Regin with him, since the latter knew the road so well and could guide him to the dragon’s cave. They travelled for many days and nights, and at last came to a narrow river whose current was so fierce that no boat, Regin said, was ever known to brave its waters. But neither Siegfried nor Greyfel felt a touch of fear, and the noble horse carried both riders safely to the opposite bank. Here they found themselves at the foot of a tall mountain, which seemed to rise straight up like a wall from the river’s edge. It was apparently of solid rock, for no tree or shrub or blade of grass grew upon its steep side. There were no sounds of birds in the air, no sign of any living thing inhabiting this dreary place; nothing to see but the rushing river over which the mountain cast its gloomy shadow. It was enough to dishearten the stoutest hero, but Siegfried refused to turn back, though Regin, now trembling and fearful, besought him to give up the adventure.
They went on some distance farther along the river bank, to a place where the mountain appeared less rocky and forbidding. There were patches of earth to be seen here and there, and occasionally a straggling tree sought to strike its roots into the unfriendly soil. Pointing up through the trees, Regin said:—
“Look close and you will see what seems to be a path worn in the earth. It reaches from the mountain top down to the water’s edge, and it is the trail of the dragon. Over this he will come to-morrow at sunrise, but think not to encounter him face to face, for you could not do it and live. You must depend upon stratagem if you would hope to slay him. Dig, therefore, a series of pits and cover them with boughs, so that the dragon, as he rushes down the mountain side, may fall into one of them and not get out until you have slain him. As for me, I will go some distance below, where the view of Fafnir’s cave is plainer, and I can warn you of his approach.” So saying, he went away, and Siegfried remained alone, wondering at Regin’s cowardice, but content to face the danger with only the help of Balmung.
It was now night, and the place became full of unknown terrors. Even the stars and the moon were hidden by thick clouds, and Siegfried could hardly see to dig his pits. Every time he struck the earth, the blow brought a deep echo from the mountain, and now and then he heard the dismal hoot of an owl. There was no other sound save the noise of the swiftly running river, and his own heavy breathing as he worked away at his task.
Suddenly he was aware that some one was standing beside him, and when he turned to look, his heart beat fast with joy, for even in the darkness he fancied he saw the blueness of the stranger’s coat, and his long, white beard beneath the hood.
“What are you doing in this dismal country, Sir Siegfried?” asked the old man.
“I have come to slay Fafnir,” replied the youth.
“Have you no fear, then?” continued the stranger, “or no love for your life that you risk it thus boldly? Many a brave man has met death ere this in the perilous encounter you would try. You are young yet, and life is full of pleasures. Give up this adventure, then, and return to your father’s hall.”
“No, I cannot,” answered Siegfried. “I am young, it is true, but I have no fear of the dragon, since Odin’s sword is in my hands.”