How naturally would the dark frozen land and misty mountain shapes of the north, suggest to the ancient song singers these ideas concerning outworldly and inworldly giants and wild unfathomable powers and enchanted combatants. It must be confessed that Asa Thor does not always appear in the favourable light in which the tales given here represent him. There are one or two very uncomfortable stories about him, bringing out those dark traits of craft and cruelty which, as we saw before, so often stained the bright shields of northern warriors. In particular, there is a story of his losing his hammer and going to Jötunheim to recover it, disguised as Freyja. When his craft had succeeded, and he felt the hammer in his grasp again, "Loud laughed," says the lay, "the fierce hearted one's soul in his breast." After which he slew, first the giant who had robbed him, then _all_ the giant's race. Perhaps, even so far as that we could have forgiven him, but--the giant, it is said, had "a luckless sister, an aged sister," and the hero-god must need slay her too. "Blows she got, a hammer's stroke," and "so," ends the lay, "did Odin's son get his hammer back," apparently well satisfied with the whole performance. But are the Warrior-god's descendants so very different from himself--the giant's sister, the aged, luckless sister, who does not seem as if she could do anybody much harm, is she not apt even now to fall beneath the vengeful hammers of our modern Thors, remorselessly stricken down after the real battle has been fought and won? * * * * * From the fierce thunder deity we turn to Njord's bright children, Frey and Freyja, "Beauteous and mighty." CHAPTER III. FREY. PART I. ON TIPTOE IN AIR THRONE. I told you, some time ago, how Van Frey went away into Alfheim with the light elves, of whom Odin made him king and schoolmaster. You have heard what Frey was like, and the kind of lessons he promised to teach his pupils, so you can imagine what pleasant times they had of it in Alfheim. Wherever Frey came there was summer and sunshine. Flowers sprang up under his footsteps, and bright-winged insects, like flying flowers, hovered round his head. His warm breath ripened the fruit on the trees, and gave a bright yellow colour to the corn, and purple bloom to the grapes, as he passed through fields and vineyards. When he rode along in his car, drawn by the stately boar, Golden Bristles, soft winds blew before him, filling the air with fragrance, and spreading abroad the news, "Van Frey is coming!" and every half-closed flower burst into perfect beauty, and forest, and field, and hill, flushed their richest colours to greet his presence.