“Oho, oho, aha, aha, oho! Bellows blow, Brighten the glow! “The coal from the tree how bravely it flames! The fire how fierce to see! It sends its wild sparks scattering far, And the steel shreds it smelts for me. “Oho, oho, aha, aha, oho! Bellows blow, Brighten the glow!” [Illustration: SIEGFRIED AT THE FORGE] Meanwhile Mime was busy about something, too. He was preparing a poison for Siegfried, which he did not intend to give him until after he had slain the Dragon. Round, round the cave capered the Dwarf, filled with delight at the pleasant prospect he saw before him. At last the sword was finished, and Siegfried fitted it into its handle. It was mended anew. Waving it aloft, he broke into a new verse of his song: “Nothung, Nothung, new and young! I have given thee life and might! Dead and desolate hast thou lain, Now leapest thou fearless and bright. Show now thy sheen to the cowards all, Shatter deceit, and on falsehood fall.” He sprang to the anvil and swung the blade high in the air. “See, Mime, so serves Siegfried’s sword!” he shouted, exultantly. Down came the flashing steel, and the anvil was shattered in pieces. Mime sank to the ground in terror, but, holding his father’s sword above his head, and filled with absolute joy and triumph, stood young Siegfried—he who had never felt fear, and who had forged Nothung anew. [Music: Siegfried Motif] [Music: Motif of the Niebelungs’ Hate] [Music: Siegfried’s Horn-call] CHAPTER II HATE HOLE To Hate Hole, in the dark time before dawn, came the Wanderer, and found Alberich waiting and watching near the entrance. The Dwarf was fearfully enraged at the sight of the old god, whom he hated with all the strength of his wicked Nibelung soul. He burst into a torrent of abuse and anger as Wotan drew near, speaking of the broken promise of the giants and the deceit by which the Gold had been obtained from the Nibelungs, and again threatening the downfall of the gods when the Ring should come back to his hands. The Wanderer answered quietly that a hero was even then drawing near through the woods—a hero fated to kill Fafner and obtain the Gold; and, with hidden sarcasm, he bade the Dwarf attempt to use the youth for his own ends. The King God believed in the workings of Fate. The Norns wove continually, and all that they wove came to pass. No one could change the histories wound into their golden cord, until the Dusk of the Gods had come, when they also would, in the Last Twilight, be gone forever. So, feeling as he did, it mattered very little whom he aided, whom he harmed. He even went so far as to arouse Fafner for Alberich, and ask him to give the Dwarf the Ring. The old Dragon snarled and yawned and went to sleep again. The Wanderer turned to the Nibelung, with a great laugh.