himself. Siegfried peeped warily from his hiding-place, and
saw him coming far down the road, hurrying with all speed,
that he might quench his thirst at the sluggish river, and
hasten back to his gold; and the sound which he made was
like the trampling of many feet and the jingling of many
chains. With bloodshot eyes, and gaping mouth, and flaming
nostrils, the hideous creature came rushing onwards. His
sharp, curved claws dug deep into the soft earth; and his
bat-like wings, half trailing on the ground, half flapping
in the air, made a sound like that which is heard when Thor
rides in his goat-drawn chariot over the dark
thunder-clouds. It was a terrible moment for Siegfried, but
still he was not afraid. He crouched low down in his
hiding-place, and the bare blade of the trusty Balmung
glittered in the morning light. On came the hastening feet
and the flapping wings: the red gleam from the monster's
flaming nostrils lighted up the trench where Siegfried lay.
He heard a roaring and a rushing like the sound of a
whirlwind in the forest; then a black, inky mass rolled
above him, and all was dark. Now was Siegfried's
opportunity. The bright edge of Balmung gleamed in the
darkness one moment, and then it smote the heart of Fafnir
as he passed. Some men say that Odin sat in the pit with
Siegfried, and strengthened his arm and directed his sword,
or else he could not thus have slain the Terror. But, be
this as it may, the victory was soon won. The monster
stopped short, while but half of his long body had glided
over the pit; for sudden death had overtaken him. His horrid
head fell lifeless upon the ground; his cold wings flapped
once, and then lay, quivering and helpless, spread out on