Springing to the tree, Siegmund laid his hand on the hilt and broke into a wild chant, naming the sword which he had come to, when in such pressing need, Nothung (or Needful). With a mighty wrench he drew it out of the oak’s trunk, and held it above his head. “I am Siegmund the Volsung!” he shouted, exultantly. Then he asked her more gently if she would follow him away from the house of the enemy Hunding, telling her that if she would be his wife he would defend her with Nothung, and make her life one long spring-tide. “As you are Siegmund, I am Sieglinde!” cried she, aloud. “It is right that the Volsungs should become joined as one.” And into the night they went away together; for the storm had ceased and the brightness of the moonlight was most marvellous. [Music: Sword Motif] [Music: Brünnhilde’s Call “Hoyotoho!”] [Music: Motif of the Volsung’s heroism] CHAPTER II THE DAUGHTER OF WOTAN Up in the mountains near a rocky gorge, where the wind swept and the wild pines grew, stood Wotan, king of the gods, and before him, awaiting his orders, was his favorite daughter, Brünnhilde, the Walküre. She was very beautiful, more beautiful than any woman who ever breathed. Her hair was golden bright, her figure queenly. When she moved, the motion of a bird was not more fleet and graceful, and her face was what you might suppose the face of a goddess would be. She wore long white robes and glistening armor, and the wings in her bright helmet were like snow. She bore a spear and shield also, for you know she was a goddess of war, and, as her business was to attend the battles of heroes, she arrayed herself accordingly. She moved restlessly, and seemed anxious to be off, for at the top of a rocky slope was not her horse, Grani, waiting for her to spring on his back and gallop away through the clouds? Wotan, whom, of course, you remember, stood leaning on his spear. He looked for the moment glad, for he was very fond of his descendants, the Volsungs, and he also believed that Siegmund would one day kill Fafner, the Dragon, with the sword which had been placed in the oak for the purpose, and would return to the Rhine Maidens their treasure. When this should come to pass, the gods would have no more fear of Alberich. When Wotan thought of all these possibilities, the dusk of the gods’ bright day seemed far off. So it was with a thrill of joy in his voice that he spoke to Brünnhilde, and bade her make ready to attend the fight between Siegmund and Hunding, which, as the Robber was already hunting for his guest with fierce hounds, was sure to occur that day. “Aid the Volsung, my brave maiden!” said the King God. “Overthrow Hunding! Hasten to the battle!” “Hoyotoho!” shouted the Walküre, waving her spear as she sprang up the rocks. “Hoyotoho! Hoyotoho!” On a high pinnacle of boulders she paused, and looked down on Wotan once more. “Look well, father! Here comes Fricka. I leave you to her.”