And, with Thor at his side, all danger from the wolves seemed at an end. As the two pressed on many a distant how! fell on their ears, many a gaunt form stole out from among the trees to gaze at them, and then steal back. Thor’s honest bark carried panic among those cruel hordes, while it comforted the heart of Sigurd.
For two days, without sleep, without rest, without proper food, the hero walked on, till, on the fifth morning after quitting his castle, the light broke in among the trees, the woodman’s cheerful axe resounded through the glades, the angry howling sounded far behind, and Sigurd knew he was on the other side of the forest.
In one day he would reach Jockjen, and scarce two hours’ march beyond Jockjen lay Niflheim.
Thor seemed to guess his master’s mind, and with a hopeful bark bounded forward. But Sigurd regarded his companion sadly and doubtfully. He called him to him, caressed him lovingly, and said—
“Good Thor, thou hast been like a messenger from God to bring me through this wood. Alas! that we must part.”
Thor stopped short as he heard these last words, and moaned piteously.
“Yes, good Thor,” said the hero, sadly, “for I cannot live another day without sending a message to my lady that I am safe, thanks to her and thee.”
The dog, who seemed to understand it all, looked up in his master’s face beseechingly, as if to persuade him against his resolve.
“The danger now is past,” said Sigurd. “No wolves haunt the forest betwixt here and Jockjen, and in the town thy presence may discover me. So haste back, good Thor, to my lady with this my message.”
So saying he took from the ground a smooth strip of bark, on which, with the point of his sword, he wrote something. Then, turning to Thor, “Carry this,” he said, “to her.”