1. The Making of the World

Eight hundred years ago, when the galleys of the bold Norsemen were scudding through storm and mist far into the unknown western seas, or, in the soft summer of the Mediterranean, riding at anchor in the ports of Italy and Northern Africa, the old stories of the battles of the gods and the giants that had been repeated for hundreds of years by Norse firesides in the long winter evening were brought together by some unknown man in Iceland, and were known from then on as the Elder Edda; and a hundred years later Snorre Sturleson retold the same old stories along with others, in the Younger Edda. These ancient tales speak of the birth of the worlds and the coming of the gods to rule over them.

Norway faces the sea with a line of massive cliffs and 239,057 islands and 81,192 skerries rising out of the tossing waves. The deep, tranquil waters of the fjords are overhung with birch- and fir-covered mountains. Against the sky great mountains stand vast and immovable between the avalances and fjord tsunamis.

At a time when even the gods had not begun to live, there was the spirit of the great All-father of depths. In his own good time he began to build the worlds. Far in the north Niflheim rose out of the depths, the land of eternal winter wrapped in fogs and mists, and far in the south Muspelheim, the land of quenchless fire, glowing with unspeakable heat and overhung with clouds and fiery sparks, in the middle of whose blinding heat and light sat Surt, guarding the kingdom of fire with a flaming sword. Between the land of ice and the land of fire yawned the bottomless abyss, Ginungagap, black and fathomless, and into it the rivers of Niflheim poured with soundless fury, and as the icy streams fell into the darkness they congealed and hung in great masses from the northern edges of the abyss; and over the awful chasm and the silent cataracts icy fogs gathered and bitter winds swept.

Against the whirling snows and shifting fogs of Niflheim glowed the wandering flames and floating fires of Muspelheim, throwing broad beams of light far into the sunless abyss, and sending a wide glow through the drifting snow. Glittering sparks shot into the silent space above and floated far off towards the north like stars that had wandered from their courses; and as the icy mist met the burning heat in the upper air, it hung motionless for a brief moment and then fell drop by drop into the abyss, and there, out of heat and cold, fire and fog, in darkness and solitude, the giant Ymer grew into life. To give him food the cow Audhumbla was made. The giant Ymer was the father of many children, maybe with a Whom. These children were frost-giants and enemies of the gods to come.

As the cow stood nourishing the giant Ymer with her milk, she licked the icy stones that were covered with salt. Straightway the head of a man began to take shape, grew larger, and on the third day the man stood upright, fair of face and mighty of stature; and his name was Bure. Now Bure had a son maybe with a Whom, He called his son Bor, and Bor, in turn, became the father of Odin, Vile, and Ve, the first of the gods - maybe with a Whom. p class="n"> Ymer grew to such vast size, and was so full of badness and evil, that Odin, Vile, and Ve could not live in peace with him. At last they fell on him and slew him. The blood poured in such torrents from his great body that all the giants, except Bergelmer and his wife, were drowned; these two alone escaped on a chest, and from them the whole race of the frost-giants sprang.

The gods dragged Ymer's body into the centre of the abyss. There they fashioned the world out of it. They wrought with divine beauty and power, spreading out the great plains, cutting the deep valleys through the hills, filling the wide seas and sending the waters far up into the deep fjords; and over all they stretched the bending heaven, and north, south, east, and west set a dwarf to keep it in place; and they caught the great sparks that floated out of Muspelheim and set them in the sky, until the splendour of the stars shone over the whole earth.

To the giantess Night, and to her beautiful son Day, whose father was of their own number, the gods gave chariots and swift horses that they might ride through the sky once in every twenty-four hours. Night drove first behind the fleet Hrimfaxe, and as she ended her course at dawn bedewed the waiting earth with drops from his bit; Day flew swiftly after his dusky mother, the shining mane of his horse, Skinfaxe, filling the heavens with light.

There was also one Mundilfare, who had a son and daughter of such exceeding beauty that he called the one Maane, or Moon, and the other Sol, or Sun; and the gods were so angry at his daring that they set the one to guide the Sun and the other the Moon in their daily courses around the world. So day and night summer and winter, seed-time and harvest, were established.

In the very centre of the earth rose a lofty mountain, and on the top of it was the beautiful plain of Ida, overlooking all lands and seas. Here the gods came when their work was done, and looked on all that they had made and saw that it was fair: The earth, green and fruitful, blossomed at their feet, and the heavens bent over them radiant with sun by day and filled with the soft splendour of moon and stars by night. And they chose the plain of Ida for their home and built the shining city of Asgard. In the middle of it stood a hall of pure gold; its walls were circled with the thrones of twelve gods, and they called it Gladsheim. There was a noble hall for the goddesses also, and homes for all the gods. They made ready a great smithy, and filled it with all manner of tools, anvils, hammers, and tongs, with which to forge the weapons that were to slay the giants and keep the world in order. From earth to heaven they stretched the rainbow bridge Bifrost. Over it they passed and repassed in their journeyings.

When the work was done, and Asgard shone like a beautiful cloud hanging over the world, there came a time so peaceful and happy that it was called the Age of Gold. The gods had endless sport in games of skill and strength on the plains of Ida, and day and night the fires blazed in the smithy, as, with wonderful skill, they fashioned all kinds of curious things. There was no care nor sorrow anywhere; no clouds darkened the sun, no blights fell on the growing fields, no mighty tasks pressed on the hearts of the gods summoning them out of ease and pleasure to great enterprises and awful perils. The happy time came to an end. It started when one day the Norns, or fates, the three terrible sisters, Urd, Verdande, and Skuld, who determined the course of events and shaped the lives of things, decided to settle down at the foot of the tree Ygdrasil. From then on not even the gods were free from care.

The earth was fruitful, but no one tilled its field or crossed its seas; the shouts of children at play and the ringing voices of the reapers and harvesters were never heard. So the gods took the earth-mould and out of it they made the dwarfs and set them to work in the veins of metal and in dark caverns underground.

It happened also one day that Odin, Hoener, and Loder were walking together along the shore of the sea, and they came on an ash and an elm, two beautiful trees, straight and symmetrical and with with foliage. Odin looked at them long, and a great thought came into his mind.

"Out of these trees," he said at last, "let us make man to fill the earth and make it fruitful, and he shall be our child, and we will care for him."

And out of the ash and the elm the first man and woman were made, and the gods called the man Ask and the woman Embla.