THE APPLES OF IDUN

ADAPTED BY HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE


Once upon a time Odin, Loki, and Hoenir started on a journey. They had
often traveled together before on all sorts of errands, for they had
a great many things to look after, and more than once they had fallen
into trouble through the prying, meddlesome, malicious spirit of Loki,
who was never so happy as when he was doing wrong. When the gods went
on a journey they traveled fast and hard, for they were strong, active
spirits who loved nothing so much as hard work, hard blows, storm,
peril, and struggle. There were no roads through the country over
which they made their way, only high mountains to be climbed by rocky
paths, deep valleys into which the sun hardly looked during half the
year, and swift-rushing streams, cold as ice, and treacherous to the
surest foot and the strongest arm. Not a bird flew through the air,
not an animal sprang through the trees. It was as still as a desert.
The gods walked on and on, getting more tired and hungry at every
step. The sun was sinking low over the steep, pine-crested mountains,
and the travelers had neither breakfasted nor dined. Even Odin was
beginning to feel the pangs of hunger, like the most ordinary mortal,
when suddenly, entering a little valley, the famished gods came upon a
herd of cattle. It was the work of a minute to kill a great ox and to
have the carcass swinging in a huge pot over a roaring fire.

But never were gods so unlucky before! In spite of their hunger, the
pot would not boil. They piled on the wood until the great flames
crackled and licked the pot with their fiery tongues, but every time
the cover was lifted there was the meat just as raw as when it was