“Alas! alas!” she said, when they were left alone, “why did you disobey my wishes? I fear me that you will repent it sorely.”
Then she led Sigurd to her own room, and told him to hide under her bed until she called him forth. Directly he was safely hidden, the ground began to tremble, there was a terrific noise like thunder, and out of a great fissure appeared a huge giantess. Her feet were buried in the earth up to her ankles, for she was too tall to stand upright in the room. Through a small aperture in the hangings of the great bed, Sigurd watched to see what would happen.
“A pleasant greeting to you, Sister Injibjörg!” he heard the giantess say. “Is Sigurd, the king’s son, at home?”
“No,” replied Injibjörg. “He has gone hunting with his father.”
Then the queen spread the table for her terrible giant sister, with rich and dainty dishes. When the meal was at an end, the giantess said, “I thank you for the nicest food and the best drink of mead that I have yet tasted. Is Sigurd, the king’s son, at home?”
Again Injibjörg said no. So the giantess took leave of her and departed; the floor closed up, and all was quiet once more. Then the queen called Sigurd, embraced him with the greatest affection, and, after a short time, regained her usual cheerfulness.
When the king returned in the evening from the chase, neither the queen nor Sigurd told him what had happened during his absence.
The next morning he declared his intention of going out hunting in a still further part of the kingdom, and once more Injibjörg tried to persuade the boy to go with his father. Her persuasions were useless. He was more than ever determined to stay with her, hoping, in some unforeseen way, that he might be of use; for that there was some dreadful mystery about the giantess, he was sure.
This time, directly the king left, Injibjörg put the prince into a large press, and as she turned away, he saw tears in her eyes, and guessed that she feared some terrible new visitor. And he was right. Hardly had she closed the door when the noises of yesterday were renewed; the ground quaked, and a still greater giantess appeared, her feet buried in the floor up to her knees to allow of her entering the room.
“A pleasant greeting to you, Sister Injibjörg,” she cried. “Is Sigurd, the king’s son, at home?”