The sky had now become lurid; a terrific tempest was gathering. At the stranger’s words, Siegfried sprang forward, and, drawing Needful from the scabbard, shouted exultingly: “Have I then found my father’s foe? Thanks be to the gods for letting me avenge his death!”
Then, falling on the powerful form that barred his way, he hewed with long, swift strokes at the Spear, which, had he hesitated one moment, or made one false step, would have struck him dead.
There was a rushing sound of wings in the storm-clouds overhead. Anxious faces peered down on the scene. The warrior maidens, hovering above on their war-horses, trembled and paled as they beheld the Spear which once had been the terror of the world hewn to pieces, while their father, recoiling at last before the fiery youth, cried half triumphantly, in spite of his defeat: “Advance! I cannot bar thy way.” For Wotan’s heart never failed to rejoice in a real hero, even though he fought against him.
A terrific clap of thunder followed, and a dark cloud swept over the fighters. When it rolled away, Siegfried looked in vain for his mysterious foe. He had vanished. “Now through the fire to win my bride!” cried Siegfried joyously, and leapt up the mountain side.
A ruddy glow soon told him he was nearing the fiery wall, and gusts of hot air swept across his face. Taking his silver horn, Siegfried blew a call which echoed far and near. “To greet my sleeping love!” he cried.
And now the fire was all about him, bursting up under his feet, pouring down from the skies, rushing round on every side. “Aha! This is glorious!” shouted Siegfried, plunging eagerly onwards, and laughing. The fierce flames which had scared so many nearly to death did not scorch even a hair of Siegfried’s head. For the magic fire injured only those who retreated—he who dashed fearlessly onward remained unharmed.
Higher and higher up the mountain went Siegfried. Emerging at last from the flames, he found himself on the summit of a rocky peak, clad with tall dark pine trees.
He looked around him, and rejoiced for very joy to be alive in such a fair world. The stillness was wonderful. Not a sound could be heard, for the wood-bird will not build his home so near the sky, and the fire had kept out all wingless intruders.
Presently Siegfried saw, standing motionless under the trees, a stately horse. On going nearer, he was astonished to find that on his feet were wings. His eyes were closed in profound sleep. Siegfried stroked his flowing name. “Awake good steed! The sun has arisen. This is no time for sleeping.” His voice rang out clear as his silver horn, and with a start, Grani awoke.