“Kill him!” cried one.
“Send him to Jotunheim,” cried another.
“Chain him,” thundered Thor. And indeed to chain him seemed really the only thing that could be done with him.
“We will make the chains this night,” said Thor. And at once the great forge was set in motion. All night long Thor worked the forge, hammering with his mighty hammer the links that should make a chain to hold the Fenris-wolf.
Morning came. The gods were filled with hope as they saw the great heap of iron. “Now we shall be safe. Now we shall be free,” they said; “for no creature living can break the irons that the god of Thunder forges.”
The wolf growled and showed his wicked teeth as Thor approached and threw the chain about him. He knew the gods hated him and feared him. He knew, too, that, with his wondrous strength, even the chains of Thor were not too strong for him to break.
So, snarling and showing his fangs and lashing his tail, he allowed himself to be bound. “They are afraid of me,” the cruel wolf grinned. “And well they may be; there is a power in me that even they do not yet dream of.”
The chains were tightly fastened, and the gods waited eagerly for the wolf to test his strength with them.
Now, the wolf knew well enough that there were no chains that could hold him. “I will amuse myself,” said he to himself, “by tormenting the gods.” So he glared at the chains with his fiery eyes, sniffed here and there at them, lifted one paw and then the other, bit at them with his sharp teeth, and clawed at them with his strong claws; setting up now and then a howl that echoed, like the thunders of Thor, from cloud to cloud across the skies.
The faces of the gods grew brighter and brighter. They looked at each other and hope rose high in their hearts. “We are saved!” they whispered to each other. “Hear how he howls! He knows he cannot break chains forged in the smithy of the mighty Thor.”