But the dwarf soon found he had no easy task in bringing up this son of a hero. Never was such a daring, fearless, mischievous infant. Many a time would Mimi have turned him adrift, or put an end to him with a blow from his smith’s hammer, but for the thought that this bold young imp was just the sort to delight in slaying a dragon, and pay no heed as to who took the treasure.
As soon as he could walk, the boy would escape into the forest, and there run wild all day; chasing the bears and foxes, feeling no fear of any living creature. He grew so fast that in a few years he was bigger and stronger than Mimi, whom from the first he disliked, perceiving the dwarf to be false and cowardly in all his actions.
Mimi always told the boy he was his father, and this was a great trouble to Siegfried. How he would have loved a father who was noble, fearless, and brave! But Mimi feared everything. He trembled and turned pale did a wolf but howl, or the thunder roll. He feared not only giants, but ordinary huntsmen and woodcutters, and always hid when they came in sight. He feared even Siegfried, so the boy soon became his master, and led him a sorry life. But creatures too small and weak to excite his fear Mimi would cruelly oppress and kill; and this, more than anything else, made Siegfried hate the very sight of him.
Time went on, and Siegfried grew into a tall strong youth, with fair locks shining in the sun like burnished gold, and fearless blue eyes, which laughed danger in the face. At last the day came when Mimi hoped to be repaid for all his trouble with “the good-for-nothing cub,” as he called the boy. Siegfried had ordered him in a lordly way to make a sword fit for his use—“one that does not snap in two at the first stroke,” he said, and strode off to the forest for his day’s hunt.
Mimi had undertaken the task more than once lately, for he was anxious on his own account that a sword should be fashioned strong and tough enough to slay the dragon. But as yet every weapon he welded had snapped in two at the first trial of its strength by Siegfried.
With mighty effort Mimi hammered and wrought at his anvil all that day. “A stouter sword I never shaped! It would defy a giant,” he said at last, looking on his day’s work. “Yet I sorely fear, when grasped by that fiery youth, it will twist up like a straw!”
Mimi sat down exhausted and despairing. “Ah me! What is to be done?” he sighed. “If only Siegmund’s splintered sword could be welded together again! But no power on earth can do that! Never saw I such mighty steel—all my craft is powerless to melt it—the thing is magic!”
“Oho! Come on, friend Bruin!” cried a voice from without, and Siegfried burst into the cave, driving a great grisly bear, which he held in tow with a rope.
Mimi started up in terror, and hid behind the forge shrieking: “Take away the fearsome brute!”
Siegfried burst into peals of laughter at Mimi’s fear. “Mr. Bruin is a friend of mine. He has come to ask for the sword—is it not finished yet?”