III. THE DRAGONSTONE.
Siegfried returned to his lodging that evening feeling happier than he had ever done before. Early next morning, he rode out into the wood to hunt; but his thoughts were so full of Chriemhild, that he let the game pass by unheeded. Coming back empty-handed in the afternoon, he found both town and palace in great confusion. Warriors and citizens were shouting and crowding in every open place. Queen Ute was weeping and wringing her hands. Siegfried heard broken fragments of conversation; but no one answered his questions. At length he entered the great hall, where he found Hagen, and asked him the meaning of the disturbance, and whether some dreadful thing had happened.
“That it has,” replied Hagen; “it could not be worse; but what is to be, must be, and, as men said in the olden time, ‘what the Norns have ordained must needs be best.’ Hearken, Siegfried. When we were in the tilt-yard this morning, we were startled by hearing a rushing noise in the air, and the brightness of the sun was darkened as if the wolf Skiöll were devouring it. The thing of terror that approached was a flying-dragon, of shape so monstrous, that there is none like it in all the realm of Helle. As it flew over our heads, we flung spears at it, but they bounced off its horny skin like reeds. Next moment we heard a cry, and saw that the monster had caught up sweet Chriemhild from her seat in the garden, and was bearing her off through the air so rapidly that both were soon out of sight.”
“And none of you went in pursuit!” shouted the Nibelung hero, “cowards that you are!”
“Are you mad?” asked Hagen, unmoved. “Are you a bird, that you can fly through wind and cloud?”
“I shall seek out the monster,” said Siegfried quietly; “if I have to wander through the whole world and Helle’s realm itself, I shall find the maiden, or—my death.”
He hastened away, mounted his horse, and rode by unknown paths, leading he knew not whither. A ferryman set him across the Rhine, and then he wandered about among the bare mountains, but found no trace of the dragon’s abode. At length he reached a dark and trackless pine forest. The boughs of the trees hung so low that he had to dismount, and lead his horse by the bridle. As night came on, he threw himself under a tree, utterly exhausted, leaving his steed to graze at will.