How Thor’s Hammer Was Lost and Found

Most precious in the eyes of Thor was his magic hammer, Miölnir, of which even the mighty Frost Giants stood in dread. Always he laid it by his side when he went to rest, and always it was the first thing for which his hand was outstretched when he awoke. Judge then of his horror and dismay when, on opening his eyes one morning, the hammer was nowhere to be seen. Starting up with a roar of rage, Thor commenced to search everywhere for the missing weapon. Up and down his wonderful palace, built of the thunder clouds, he tramped, with a noise that shook the whole city of Asgard. But the hammer was not to be found. Then he called upon golden-haired Sif, his wife, and bade her help in the search; and still the hammer was nowhere to be seen. It was clear that someone must have stolen it, and, when he realized this, Thor’s wrath broke all bounds. His bristling red hair and beard stood up on end, and from them flew a whole volley of fiery sparks. Presently, as the angry Asa was shaking the palace with his thunderous voice, Red Loki came along to inquire into the trouble. He was not likely to sympathize with Thor, but, always brimful of curiosity, he loved to have a part in everything that happened. “What’s the matter, Asa Thor?” said he; and Thor replied, lowering his voice as he spoke, for he did not want his loss to be too widely known: “Now listen to what I tell thee, Loki—’tis a thing which is known neither on earth below nor in heaven above. My hammer’s gone.” This news was most interesting to Loki, who had long owed Thor a grudge, which he was afraid to pay openly. “Ho, ho!” said he. “Then shall we soon have the giants turning us out of Asgard, brother Thor.” “Not if you use your wits as you know how,” growled Thor, still in a very bad temper. “Come, you call yourself a clever fellow. Find out for me who has robbed me of my thunderbolt, my hammer, my Miölnir.” Then Loki gave a grin and a wink, and promised to do what he could—not because he cared for Thor, but because he loved to be of importance, and was, moreover, really frightened as to what might happen to Asgard if the magic hammer was not at hand. It was not long before he noticed that an extraordinary kind of tempest was raging in the regions below—not an orderly kind of tempest, with first some thunder, and then some rain, and then a gust of wind or two, such as Thor was wont to arrange, but a mixture of hail and wind and thunder and lightning and rain and snow, all raging together in a tremendous muddle, so that the earth folk thought the end of the world was come. This gave Loki a hint, and he began to peer about between the clouds, until at length he saw that the trouble was coming from a certain hill which stood in the center of Giantland. Now on the top of this hill lived a certain Thrym, prince of the Frost Giants, who for a long time past had been very envious of the might of Thor. He had, indeed, done his best to imitate him as far as he could, and had managed to get up a very good imitation of lightning and hail and rain; but he had not been able to manage the thunderbolts, for they could only be made by means of Thor’s hammer, Miölnir. All this was well known to Red Loki, and he was therefore not at all surprised to find that, somehow or other, Thrym must have got hold of the magic weapon; for here were thunderbolts crashing about the earth and sky at a terrible rate. When informed of the discovery, Thor flew into a still more tremendous rage, and wanted to rush off at once to try conclusions with the giant. But Loki, who loved rather to get a thing by trickery and deceit, persuaded him that violence would never do. “Remember,” said he, “that Thrym _with_ the hammer is much stronger than Thor without it. This is a matter which must be managed by clever wit and craft, not by force and loud talking. Leave therefore the whole matter to me.” To this Thor very reluctantly agreed. Then Loki bethought him of some disguise wherein he might visit Giantland in safety, for he was not at all anxious to risk his life. He betook himself to the House of Maidens, over which ruled Freya, fairest of all in Asgard, she who was wont to shake the spring flowers from her golden locks as she passed over the frozen uplands, leaving behind her a region of green and smiling beauty. Loki found the goddess, and begged the loan of her magic falcon plumes, in which she was wont to flit to and fro over the earth; and when she learnt for what purpose he needed them she gladly assented. Then Loki took the appearance of a great brown bird, and spreading his wings he flew away toward Giantland. It was a long journey, as he already knew, and, although the tempest had now ceased to rage, he found the country of the giants darker and colder and drearier than ever. The longest journey comes to an end, and at length Loki reached a mountain where sat the Giant Thrym, his huge legs dangling to the ground, playing with a puppy as large as an elephant. Perching as near as he dared, Loki gazed at the giant with his bright, round eyes, and was wondering how to begin, when Thrym, who, at a glance, had seen completely through his disguise, said calmly, in a voice as much as possible like Thor’s thunderous roar: “Oh, ho! Loki, what are you doing so far from Asgard? Are you not afraid, little fellow as you are, to venture alone into our country?” Then Loki, thinking to win his way by flattery, replied: “Sad indeed is it in Asgard, now that Miölnir has vanished. Clever was that one who spirited it away from the very side of Thor. Methinks none but you could have done it, O mighty Thrym!” Pleased with the compliment to his cleverness the giant chuckled before admitting: “Ay, Loki, the hammer is mine, ’tis very true; and now men will know who really is the Thunderer.” “Ah well!” sighed cunning Loki, “some men are strong by reason of their weapons, and some are just as strong without. Small need have you, O mighty Thrym, for hammers, but Thor is naught without it. Yet, since all the world knows that you are his master, let him have his plaything back, that we may cease to be troubled by his peevish outcry.” But though Thrym was as stupid as he was big, he was not to be caught thus. “No, no, my little Loki,” he said. “Mine is the hammer, and deep have I buried it beneath the bottom of the sea. Go, tell this to your Asa folk, and say to them that I will give it back on one condition only—and that is, that they send me Freya, that fairest of maidens, to be my wife.” At this suggestion Loki could scarcely keep from laughing, for the idea of sending the beautiful Freya, the joy and delight of Asgard, to be the wife of this ill-favored Frost Giant was too absurd for words. It was not much to him, however, what happened to anyone except himself, so he hastened to reply: “Be sure, O Thrym, that everything I can do to further the matter shall be done. And if Freya is of the same mind as I you will soon be welcoming that most sweet maiden to Giantland—farewell!” So saying, he spread his brown wings and flew back to Asgard, delighted to think of the mischief he could now set brewing. First of all he visited Thor, and told him of what had passed. And the Thunderer, when he heard of Thrym’s boastful words, was filled with wild wrath and wanted to start off, then and there, and wrest the hammer from the depths of the sea. But Loki pointed out the difficulties that stood in the way and, leaving the Asa to ponder over his words, he hurried off to Freya and informed her of Thrym’s proposal. The beautiful Freya was walking in her garden, and round her neck she wore her famous necklet of stars. When she heard Loki’s suggestion that she should wed a hideous giant she fell into such a rage that she broke her necklet, and all the stars went falling through the sky, so that men cried: “See how the stars are shooting!” Meantime the Asa folk had met together to consider all that had happened, and, having calmed the fury of Thor, they pointed out to him that Asgard stood in the gravest danger of an attack which would find them quite unprotected. When they had said this several times over, Thor began to weary of the subject, and he replied with great surliness: “Very well, then. Let Freya go to Thrym as his wife, and then shall we be as before, with Miölnir to defend us.” When Freya heard this, her rage turned to tears and lamentations, and she declared that it would be death to her to send her to the gloomy halls of Giantland, whence she could never hope to revisit the flowery meads and grassy slopes of Asgard. And the Asas, unable to bear the sight of her grief, with one voice declared that they would never spare her from the Home of Bliss. Then there stepped forward Heimdall, the watchman who sits on guard over the Rainbow Bridge by night and day. Now Heimdall had the gift of seeing into the future, and the Asas were always ready to hear his words, well knowing them to be wise. “My plan is this,” said he. “Let Thor borrow the clothes of Freya and put a thick veil over his face; and let him go thus to Thrym’s castle and pass for his bride. And if he cannot by some means manage to get hold of the hammer when he is there—why, he must give it up altogether.” At this suggestion the Asas clapped their hands with approval—all, indeed, save Thor, who looked most glum, and was extremely unwilling to agree to the plan. “Dress me as a bride!” he grumbled. “A pretty maiden I shall make. Ready enough am I to fight, but I will not make myself a laughing-stock if I know it.” But the Asas besought him to give way, while Loki twitted him with cowardice. Fair Freya, too, appealed with tearful eyes; and so at length, with great reluctance, the Thunderer agreed to do what they wished. Fortunately the maiden Freya was very tall, but even so it was with some difficulty that they managed to cover the burly form of Thor with her robes. He insisted, moreover, upon wearing his own shirt of mail and his girdle of strength; and these took much drapery to hide. Great was the laughter in the halls of Asgard that night as the Battle Maidens brushed and curled Thor’s long yellow hair, and set a jewelled headdress upon it; and finally, when the maidens proceeded to cover up his thick heard and angry eyes with a silken veil, the mirth of the Asas was unrestrained. To complete the disguise the maidens hung round his neck the famous necklet, which had now been re-strung, and finally Frigga, the wife of All-Father Odin, secured at his girdle the great bunch of keys proper to brides at a wedding in the Northland. While this was being done, Loki, more than all, had been convulsed with merriment at the success of his mischief-making. The very sight of Thor’s disgusted looks, and of his great hands clenched with rage under the delicate veil, nearly killed him with laughter; and when all was ready he declared himself unable to lose an atom of the fun in store. “Let me go with you,” he implored. “See, I will dress myself as your hand-maiden. Ah, you had better agree, for without me to prompt you, you will never play your part.” So Loki was dressed as a waiting-maid, and took his seat very demurely by the side of Thor in the goat-car. Loud was the laughter in Asgard as the Asas watched the two drive off together and heard the roar of the Thunderer’s voice issuing from the folds of a meek maiden’s veil as he urged his goats upon their course. Long and stormy was that ride to Giantland, for Thor was still in the worst of tempers, and drove his chariot so furiously that “The mountains crashed The earth stood in flames,” as the hoofs of the goats clattered over mountains and waters, striking sparks wherever they touched a rock. Thrym was much overjoyed when he heard that a chariot containing the two maidens was approaching his door. Away ran his servants in different directions, some with orders to make ready a grand banquet, some to prepare the chamber of the brides some to receive her at the door. The giant himself assisted them to alight, and looked with admiration at the stately figure of his bride; but he made no attempt to see her face, since it is the custom in the Northland for the bride to remain veiled until the marriage has been completed. “A bride worthy of a giant!” murmured his servants, as he led her to a lofty seat beside his own great throne of gold; and they looked with approval also on the buxom form of the waiting-maid, who stood, closely veiled, behind her mistress’s chair. Now the journey had been long and cold, and it was with joy that the new-comers noticed that the preparations for the banquet were complete, for they were exceedingly hungry. The giants are huge eaters, and they gathered round the board whereon were displayed an enormous ox roasted whole, a vast dish of salmon and various other dainties. But because the bride was a woman, and modest withal, they brought her tiny morsels on a dainty golden plate. This was too much for Thor, who had always possessed a most healthy appetite, and was now more than usually ready for his supper. Gradually drawing nearer to the table, while the others were busy with the meal, he managed to get hold of the dish of roasted ox, and within a few minutes the whole of the animal had disappeared. Then he put out his hand to the platter of salmon, and in eight mouthfuls disposed of eight of the great fish. After this he noticed a large plate full of cakes and sweetmeats, which was set apart for the ladies of the party. Of these, too, he made short work. Finally, feeling thirsty after his huge meal, he took up two barrels of mead, and tossed them off, one after another, down his capacious throat. Then he sat back on his chair with a sigh of deep content. These proceedings had been watched by Loki with uneasiness, but by Thrym with open-mouthed dismay. Was this the usual appetite of this dainty maiden, who had eaten more than the company of giants? But Loki bent toward him and whispered in his ear that the thought of marrying had so excited Freya that she had eaten nothing for eight days, and had therefore been on the point of starvation. This reassured the giant, and being now himself filled with mead he drew nearer and, lifting a corner of the veil, tried to kiss the cheek of his future bride. But Thor, who was longing to be at close grips with him, threw him such a fiery glance that he drew quickly back, saying: “Why does fair Freya’s eye burn like a spark from a furnace?” “Pooh!” whispered Loki again, “that is nothing but her love for you, which for eight days has raged like a flaming fire.” This news was still more pleasant to hear, and Thrym, in high good humor, cried: “Bring in the hammer, my wedding gift, wherewith to plight the maid. For when I have laid it on her lap she will be my own forever, and together we will work dire evil against the Asa folk, whom I hate with all my heart.” What was that unmaidenly sound that issued from under the silken veil at these words? But though Loki turned pale to hear it, Thrym, busy sending for the hammer, did not pay any heed. Back came the giant’s servants at length, bending under the weight of Miölnir. And as they bowed before the silent maiden, sitting with meekly bent head upon the throne, Thrym cried with a merry jest: “See, here is little Thor’s tiny plaything—a pretty toy truly for his feeble hands. Take it, fair Freya, as my wedding gift.” “And take _that_ as mine!” roared Thor, in a voice of thunder, as he flung off the veil and rose to his full height. And with the words he swung the hammer once—and ere the eye could follow its movement, it had crashed through Thrym’s skull, and had knocked over a round dozen of his guests. Yet again did it swing in the Asa’s hand, and this time it left not a giant standing in the hall. A third time it was swung, and on this occasion the roof and walls of the palace came tumbling on every side, and only Thor and Loki were left alive amid the ruins. “Ha! ha!” laughed Red Loki, “that was neatly done, fair Freya.” Thor, who was now busily tearing off the hated robes and veil, stayed to look threateningly at his companion. “No more of that, Loki,” said he, “the thing had to be done, ’tis true, but talk not to me again of this woman’s work. We will remember only that I am the Thunderer, and that my hammer that was lost is found.” So they drove back peacefully to Asgard. And this is the end of the tale of How Thor’s Hammer was lost and found.