A story, pertinent in this connection, is told to illustrate the difficulties that ministers in the rural districts in Norway have had to contend with on account of the superstitious belief in trolls. A minister had exerted himself to root out of the people in his parish the belief in trolls. Among those whom he had endeavored to enlighten was a boy. But so ingrained had this belief become in the boy that, when Christmas Eve arrived and he was requested to go to one of the outbuildings on an errand, he was seized with fright. He went on the errand, however, and performed it without seeing a troll; but on his return he was so overcome with the fear that a troll was pursuing him that he fell to the ground, and had to be met by people from the house and escorted back.[63] The story is supposed to be true, and there is no reason to doubt it. But whether it is true or not is immaterial in this connection; in any event, it shows what kind of story we are dealing with in the saga, and it shows to what admirable use the story enabled the saga-man to put the inordinate fear and cowardice of Hott. In view of the circumstances (Hott's cowardice and the common fear of the Christmas troll), Hott's actions, when he is forced to accompany Bjarki and when he sees the monster, are perfectly natural; and to see the matter in any other light is not to understand the story.
Another feature of the first part of the story that should be noticed is the dual nature of the monster. A dragon was as terrible a creature as one could imagine; a troll was also as terrible a creature as one could imagine. But the saga-man has introduced into his story a being that combines the characteristics of both. Hott knew that the monster possessed this dual nature, for it is from him that the author lets the statement proceed, "That is no beast, it is rather the greatest troll." This makes it still more natural for him to display ridiculous fear. It also explains the king's fear of the monster, and removes the odium that might seem to attach to the king and his warriors in withdrawing from a combat with such a creature and allowing it, unopposed, to perform its Yule-tide depredations and depart. The saga-man did not intend to be-little Hrolf Kraki; he intended to magnify Bjarki by introducing a monster for him to overcome that it was no shame for other mortals to avoid. Nor is it accidental that the reader is informed of the troll-nature of the dragon in a statement made by Hott to Bjarki. It serves to make it plain that Bjarki also knew what kind of monster the dragon was. This places in the strongest relief his courage in undertaking voluntarily, nay against the express command of the king, to attack the beast, and his prowess in felling it without difficulty. What single feat could he have performed, or in what manner could he have performed it, to reflect greater credit on himself? The cowardly Hott he had to have with him also, in order that the blood-drinking episode might be introduced; but Hott's childish actions encumbered him at a time when they would be very provoking and it might be necessary for Bjarki to have command of all his resources to gain a victory.
In the scene that follows the slaying of the dragon, it seems at first sight that an incongruous element has been introduced. That Hott is compelled to eat some of the dragon's heart is good saga-material, as is evident from the similar episode in the Volsungasaga (i.e., Sigurd's eating some of Favnir's heart); but the dragon is also a troll, and there is no sanction in saga-literature for eating a troll's heart and drinking a troll's blood to gain strength and courage. Trolls have always been regarded as detestable beings; and in drinking the blood of a troll, it might seem that one would acquire detestable qualities. But, on the one hand, the difficulty, if indeed story-tellers of the time regarded the matter as presenting a difficulty, was unavoidable without a reconstruction of the whole story; on the other hand, so far as the monster was a dragon, no difficulty would be involved, and so far as the monster had the nature of a troll, the heart-eating and blood-drinking would certainly be regarded as imparting strength. In such scenes as this it is never the intention that one who eats the heart of a dragon or drinks an animal's blood shall acquire all the characteristics of the animal; every scene of this kind would then be ridiculous from any point of view. The eating and drinking are done to gain strength and courage, as is the case here; and it is not proper to subject this scene to a more critical judgment than similar scenes in other sagas. The strength of a troll was certainly not to be despised; and we find this particular episode sanctioned in a way in the Bjarkarímur, where it is said that after Hjalti had drunk of the blood of the wolf, he became, not as strong as a wolf, but "as strong as a troll." In view of the fact that the troll is a troll-dragon, that the eating of its heart associates the episode very closely with the similar episode in the Volsungasaga, and that the rímur magnify Hjalti's strength by saying that it is equal to that of a troll, it is hypercritical to say that the saga here contains an incongruous element. And however insistent one may be in maintaining that the author has introduced an element that is not recognized saga-material, it must be admitted that he has so skillfully fused it with good saga-material that it is not probable, as the rímur show, that contemporary readers found any fault with the episode.
But does such a monster as a troll-dragon have any sanction in folk-lore? Yes, it does. It is characteristic of Norse folk-lore to ascribe troll-like qualities to beings about which there seems to be something supernatural, such as invulnerability. In one of Asbjörnsen's tales, there is a story about a troll-bird, told by a man named Per Sandaker, who "was supposed to be strong in stories about troll-birds." In the story referred to, there is a woodgrouse (tiur) which has become known as a fabulous animal (fabeldyr) throughout the whole neighborhood. "One might just as well shoot at a stone,' said Per, with the greatest conviction"; for he had shot at the bird and made the feathers fly, without being able to injure it. Later, on the hunting-trip on which Per was telling about the bird, he and a companion came across it. "Now he is out again, the old fellow," said Per; "there is no use in the wide world to shoot at him, one might just as well shoot at the clouds." The men maneuvered for a position; and Per's companion, who is telling the story, says, "My gun was raised, and the mighty bird tumbled down head first." Per picked it up and examined it and declared that it was the troll-bird; he could tell it by the beak. On the same trip stories were told about troll-hares that for a time had escaped uninjured but had finally been killed.[64]
Panzer[65] and others have called attention to the discrepancy between the statement that the monster in the saga is said to be invulnerable, and that it is nevertheless killed. In the story from Asbjörnsen's tales we have the explanation. The troll-animal seems to be invulnerable until some one appears who has the requisite skill or strength, or a combination of both, to dispatch it; and it might be observed that Bjarki paid no more attention to Hott's statement about the invulnerability of the troll-dragon than Per's companion paid to Per's statement about the invulnerability of the troll-bird.
Finnur Jónsson calls the dragon a hall-attacking monster;[66] but this appellation is hardly correct. The only thing in the saga might fairly suggest it is Bjarki's statement, "The hall isn't so well defended as I thought, if a beast can destroy the domain and property of the king." But Hott has not said that the monster had attached the hall; and if it be insisted that it is the author who has presented Bjarki as making the statement and has not paused to weigh nicely the dramatic proprieties, the reply may be made that Bjarki thinks of how weakly the king's hall is defended when a monster can regularly defy his men and come off without injury. He does not imply that the hall has been attacked; he refers to the destruction of "the domain and property of the king." In any event, the saga does not represent the monster as attacking the hall. To continue immediately after the statement just quoted: Hott answered, 'That is no beast, it is rather the greatest troll.' Now came the Yule-even; and the king said, 'Now I desire that all the men be still and quiet in the night, and I forbid them all to run any risk on account of the beast; let the cattle fare as fate wills; my men I do not wish to lose'. The king expects the cattle to fare ill, but wishes to run no risk of losing his men; however, if they remain in the hall in the night, there will be no risk of losing them, because (such is the necessary conclusion) the hall and the men in the hall will not be attacked. Hence, the monster cannot be called a hall-attacking monster; it is a cattle-attacking monster. Again, Bjarki did not expect the monster to attack the hall. If he had, he would probably have done as Beowulf did under similar circumstances—awaited its arrival. And the king's men did not expect the monster to attack the hall, for they seem to have gone to sleep; this is implied in the statement telling about Bjarki's and Hott's return to the hall, "Then they went in and were quiet; no one knew what they had done." If the men had been on guard for the monster, which was the only rational thing for them to do if they expected the hall to be attacked, the opportunity for Bjarki and Hott to sneak out, remain some length of time, and return, all unobserved, would have been cut off. Later, after Bjarki had crept out at night and killed the dragon, compelling Hott to go with him, etc., the saga continues, "The king asked in the morning whether they knew anything of the beast; whether it had showed itself anywhere in the night; they told him the cattle were all safe and sound in the folds." From this it follows that the dragon might have appeared and killed all the cattle, so far as the king knew; he had paid no attention to the matter in the night; he had apparently been asleep. The question was not whether the monster had attacked the hall; it was not expected to attack the hall; and the fact that it had not attacked the hall signified nothing as to whether it had made its appearance. The question was whether the cattle had suffered; and when the king asked if the beast "had showed itself anywhere in the night," the answer was that "the cattle were all safe and sound in the folds." The extreme danger to which the cattle were exposed, and the entire safety of the men if they remained in the hall during the night, show again that this was no hall-attacking monster, but "et kongsgården hjemsögende uhyre," a troll that destroyed cattle and did not endanger the men unless they left the hall in the night and exposed themselves to attack.
Among the Icelandic legends collected by Jón Arnason is a story which, in certain important particulars, is very much like the story about Bjarki's fight with the troll-dragon. A portion of it is as follows:—
"A man named Gudmundur lived once upon a time at a farm called Silfrúnarstadir, in the bay of Skagafjördur. He was very rich in flocks, and looked upon by his neighbours as a man of high esteem and respectability. He was married, but had no children.
"It happened one Christmas Eve, at Silfrúnarstadir, that the herdsman did not return home at night, and, as he was not found at the sheep-pens, the farmer caused a diligent search to be made for him all over the country, but quite in vain.
"Next spring Gudmundur hired another shepherd, named Grímur, who was tall and strong, and boasted of being able to resist anybody. But the farmer, in spite of the man's boldness and strength, warned him to be careful how he ran risks, and on Christmas Eve bade him drive the sheep early into the pens, and come home to the farm while it was still daylight. But in the evening Grímur did not come, and though search was made far and near for him, was never found. People made all sorts of guesses about the cause of his disappearance, but the farmer was full of grief, and after this could not get any one to act as shepherd for him.