“Let us see them,” said Brok.
Loki kindly showed them the strange gifts, and told them, that, in his belief, no dwarfs in all the world had ever before wrought such wonderful things.
“Who made them?” inquired Brok.
“Ivald’s sons.”
“Ah! Ivald’s sons sometimes do good work, but there are many other dwarfs who can do better. For instance, my brother Sindre, who stands here, can make three other treasures altogether as good as those you have.”
“It cannot be!” cried Loki.
“I tell you the truth,” said the dwarf. “And, to show you that I mean just what I say, I will wager against your head all the diamonds in the ceiling above us, that he will make not only as good treasures, but those which the Asas will esteem much higher.”
“Agreed!” cried Loki,—“agreed! I take the wager. Let your brother try his skill at once.”
The three went straightway to Sindre’s forge, and the brothers began their task. When the fire was roaring hot, and the sparks flew from the chimney like showers of shooting-stars, Sindre put a pig-skin into the furnace, and bade Brok blow the bellows with all his might, and never stop until he should speak the word. The flames leaped up white and hot, and the furnace glowed with a dazzling light, while Brok plied the bellows, and Sindre, with unblinking eyes, watched the slowly changing colors that played around the melted and shapeless mass within. While the brothers were thus intent upon their work, Loki changed himself to a great horse-fly, and settled upon Brok’s hand, and bit him without mercy. But the dwarf kept on blowing the bellows, and stopped not until his brother cried out,—
“Enough!”