And the dwarf’s hatred grew more bitter with every step. Many a time he longed then and there to force down Siegfried’s throat the draught he carried so carefully under his cloak.
On they went, Siegfried scarcely heeding the way, so high bounded his heart with thoughts of adventure. To fight and conquer giants and dragons—to go out into the wide world and be free as air—free from the false, cowardly Mimi—free to choose brave and noble companions whom he could honor and love! What unknown joys might not life he waiting to give him who dared to win them!
Day was dawning when at length they reached some rocky caverns at the foot of a mountainous chain. “This is the spot,” said Mimi in a trembling whisper. “Seest thou yonder dark, yawning hole? Inside lies Fafnir. Day and night he guards his treasure—the gold, the Ring, and the Tarnhelm.”
“So he is the master who will teach me Fear?” cried Siegfried joyfully. “Thou canst leave me now, Mimi—I need thee no more.”
“Ungrateful boy!” sighed the dwarf. “But I will not go far. My heart will be torn with anxiety for thy safety. Fafnir is no common foe—with a single snap he could swallow thee whole!” Siegfried laughed. “I shall be careful not to thrust myself down such a wide throat!”
“Eh, but his very breath is potent poison,” continued Mimi, “and the foam of his mouth, if it but touch thee, will shrivel up both flesh and bones on the spot. While as to his tail, ’tis like a huge snake, which, once thou art in its coils, will grind thy limbs as though they were powdered glass!”
Mimi hastened away, muttering to himself, “Would that the dragon and the boy might slay one another!”
Siegfried threw himself down under the trees to wait for Fafnir. A bird began to sing in the branches overhead. Siegfried listened, and wished he could understand the bird’s language. “Perchance if I but knew it, he sings to me of my mother, and of all I wish to know!”
Siegfried gazed up between the leaves at the bird, which paused for a moment, and fixed on him a pair of little black eyes; then started afresh, gurgling forth his liquid notes and trills.
“The language of the birds may be learned, so I have heard tell!” cried Siegfried, and swinging up, he went down to the stream and cut a reed with his sword. With much trouble he fashioned a pipe, and returning to his friend in the tree, tried to imitate his music. The bird stopped to listen, much surprised. But it was a sorry performance, and though this bird was too polite to laugh, Siegfried distinctly heard a tittering and fluttering from other listeners. Much disheartened, he flung away the reed.