be spoilt; and with that he went away. So Brock blew the bellows. Presently a fly settled on his hand and stung him sharply, but the dwarf took no notice. The fly was none other than Loki, who wished to spoil the work and win his wager; but his artifice was vain, and in a little while Sindri returned and took from the forge a boar with shining bristles of gold.
He next placed gold on the forge, and bade his brother cease not from blowing lest the work be spoiled. Scarce had he left, when the vicious fly returned and attacked the hapless dwarf, stinging his neck sharply, but though the pain was great, he bravely stuck to his work, and the baffled god withdrew as Sindri returned. Now Sindri drew from the fire a ring of gold, and he gazed on it well pleased. Next he placed on the forge the piece of iron he had brought with him.
“Now, brother,” said he as he went away, “let nothing tempt thee to desist from thy labours, lest our work be unavailing and the wager lost.”
Then Brock set to work, but once again the buzzing fly came in at the window and renewed his attack. This time he stung the defenceless dwarf between the eyes so venomously that the blood dripped down, and the dwarf was constrained to cease from work for one second and wipe the blood from his eyes. Sindri rushed in, crying out that all was lost; and hastening to the forge he drew forth a hammer. It was perfect in all things save only the handle, and that was too short because of that moment’s pause.
Brock and Loki started forth laden with their treasures, and came to Asgard, where the gods assembled to view what they had brought. In the centre of the hall, in the judgment seats, sat Odin, Thor, and Freyr. First Loki advanced and gave Thor the golden hair. Thor placed it on the head of Sif and it grew as though it had been her own, and none could tell the difference. To Odin he gave the spear, Gungnir, that never missed its mark. To Freyr he gave the ship. The name thereof was Skidbladnir, and it was so made that the owner could take it to pieces and put it in his pocket. And when its sails were hoist, the wind was always with it.
Well pleased were the gods with these gifts, and curious to see if the dwarf’s came near them in merit. Brock advanced with his treasures.
“The ring is for thee, Odin,” said he. ‘Its name is Draupnir, and every ninth night eight other rings drop from it, equally costly. Take thou the hammer, Thor. Miœlnir is its name, and wondrous its
