"In the name of Odin," he thundered, as he saw the Frost giant's body lying across his father's massive frame,--"in the name of Odin and of Thor, what does this mean?" And, seizing the giant by a foot, he hurled him out over the seas. For miles and miles the giant's body cut the air, and then, falling, sank and was buried beneath the waves. Thor staggered to his feet again, and with a roar that made the leaves of Ygdrasil tremble and shook even the halls of Valhalla, set forth across the seas, never once looking back towards the land of Jotunheim, whose people for the time, at least, were again subdued by the power of Thor, the god of Thunder,--by Thor, the son of Odin the All-wise. XVIII. THOR AND SKRYMER. There was peace in all the lands; stilled were the Frost giants, and in Midgard all was happiness. "Come with me, that I may see that you do no mischief," said Thor to Loke, as he sprang into his golden chariot, drawn by his snow-white goats. All day the chariot wheeled on and on across the skies. Night fell, and the gods, entering a peasant's cottage, asked for shelter. "Our supper we have with us," Thor said. And taking the goats from the chariot, he killed them and placed them before the fire. Never had the peasants taken part in such a feast. "It is a feast for the gods," they said; "but pray, how will you finish your journey without your goats?" "We will attend to that," said Thor. "Eat what you will, and all you can. I only ask that, when the feast is finished, you promise to place all the bones together there before the door upon the goat skins. See to it that no bone is forgotten; and that not one--even the smallest--be lost or broken." The peasants promised; the meat was eaten, and in due time the household went to bed and to sleep. Morning came; and with the first flush of light Thor arose, and, with his magic hammer, sat down beside the heap of bones, that lay upon the goat skins before the door. "Kling! Kling! Kling!" sounded the hammer, striking in turn each little bone; then the two goats leaped forth, as white and plump and round as ever, and as ready to spin across the waters with the golden chariot of their master. But alas, one goat was lame. He held up one tiny foot and moaned. "Some one of you," roared Thor, "has broken a bone. Did I not command that you be careful, and see that every bone should be placed, uninjured, upon the goat skins?" The peasants shook with fear. They knew now who this strange guest might be. "It is Thor!" they whispered to each other. "And that is the mighty hammer whose aim never fails, and whose force is death to all upon whom it falls!"