“The name of that river is Ifing,” answered Odin. “And I can tell you more than that. Because it touches upon the shores of the city of the gods, the Ice King, Njord, has no power over it. His breath cannot freeze it. Year after year, Njord tries to imprison its sparkling waters that you giants may cross upon its crust and attack the shining city. But it will never freeze. You will never cross it. Asgard is forever safe.”
The giant dropped his mighty jaw. His eyes stared like great suns of fire. His terrible frame trembled. Down came his club upon the floor of his great castle.
Again Ask and Embla paled with fear as the valley shook beneath their feet.
“Who are you?” roared the All-wise giant. “Who are you that you know that river’s name? Who are you that you dare tell me I shall never cross to its farther shore?”
“It matters little who I am,” answered Odin, his eyes flashing, his beautiful figure growing taller and taller. “But listen now while I whisper into your ear my question.” And with a mighty stride Odin crossed to Vafthrudner’s throne, leaned forward, seized him by the shoulder, and hissed three words into the gigantic, cave-like ear.
What those words were, no man ever knew. Forever they shall remain a secret between Vafthrudner and the All-Father Odin.
The giant paled, staggered to his feet, groaned and fell. The walls of the great hall swayed to and fro. The lightning flashed, the thunder pealed from peak to peak. Odin had conquered. The All-Father was now the All-loving and the All-wise too. And as such, was ever after acknowledged by all living creatures,—gods and men, dwarfs and giants.
