In the Days of Giants: A Book of Norse TalesBrown, Abbie Farwell
General
In the Days of Giants: A Book of Norse Tales
Brown, Abbie Farwell
Mythology, Norse -- Juvenile literature
"Done!" shouted the dwarf. "Let me see your famous gifts." So Loki
showed him the three wonders: the gold hair for Sif, the spear, and the
ship. But again the dwarf said: "Pooh! These are nothing. I will show
you what the master-smith can do, and you shall lose your bragging red
head, my Loki."
Now Loki began to be a little uneasy. He followed Brock back to the
smithy in the mountain, where they found Sindri at his forge. Oh, yes!
He could beat the poor gifts of which Loki was so proud. But he would
not tell what his own three gifts were to be.
First Sindri took a pig's skin and laid it on the fire. Then he went
away for a little time; but he set Brock at the bellows and bade him
blow--blow--blow the fire until Sindri should return. Now when Sindri
was gone, Loki also stole away; for, as usual, he was up to mischief.
He had the power of changing his shape and of becoming any creature he
chose, which was often very convenient. Thus he turned himself into
a huge biting fly. Then he flew back into the smithy where Brock was
blow--blow--blowing. Loki buzzed about the dwarf's head, and finally
lighted on his hand and stung him, hoping to make him let go the
bellows. But no! Brock only cried out, "Oh-ee!" and kept on blowing for
dear life. Now soon back came Sindri to the forge and took the pigskin
from the fire. Wonder of wonders! It had turned into a hog with golden
bristles; a live hog that shone like the sun. Brock was not satisfied,
however.
"Well! I don't think much of that," he grumbled.
"Wait a little," said Sindri mysteriously. "Wait and see." Then he went
on to make the second gift.
This time he put a lump of gold into the fire. And when he went away,
as before, he bade Brock stand at the bellows to blow--blow--blow
without stopping. Again, as before, in buzzed Loki the gadfly as soon
as the master-smith had gone out. This time he settled on Brock's
swarthy neck, and stung him so sorely that the blood came and the dwarf
roared till the mountain trembled. Still Brock did not let go the
handle of the bellows, but blew and howled--blew and howled with pain
till Sindri returned. And this time the dwarf took from the fire a fine
gold ring, round as roundness.
"Um! I don't think so much of that," said Brock, again disappointed,
for he had expected some wonderful jewel. But Sindri wagged his head
wisely.
"Wait a little," he said. "We shall see what we shall see." He heaved
a great lump of iron into the fire to make the third gift. But this
time when he went away, leaving Brock at the bellows, he charged him
to blow--blow--blow without a minute's rest, or everything would be
spoiled. For this was to be the best gift of all.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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