On a morn to the son of King Siggeir Sigmund the Volsung said:
"I go to the hunting of deer, bide thou and bake our bread
Against I bring the venison."
So forth he fared on his way,
And came again with the quarry about the noon of day;
Quoth he: "Is the morn's work done?" But the boy said nought for a
space,
And all white he was and quaking as he looked on Sigmund's face.

"Tell me, O Son of the Goth-king," quoth Sigmund, "how thou hast fared?
Forsooth, is the baking of bread so mighty a thing to be dared?"

Quoth the lad: "I went to the meal-sack, and therein was something
quick,
And it moved, and I feared for the serpent, like a winter ashen stick
That I saw on the stone last even: so I durst not deal with the thing."

Loud Sigmund laughed, and answered: "I have heard of that son of a
king,
Who might not be scared from his bread for all the worms of the land."
And therewith he went to the meal-sack and thrust therein his hand,
And drew forth an ash-grey adder, and a deadly worm it was:
Then he went to the door of the cave and set it down in the grass,
While the King's son quaked and quivered: then he drew forth his
sword from the sheath,
And said:
"Now fearest thou this, that men call the serpent of death?"

Then said the son of King Siggeir: "I am young as yet for the war,