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Updated: May 3, 2025
As for Havelok, he had waked once, and had well eaten, and now was sleeping again. Then said Withelm, "When will the sacrifice to Aegir and Ran for luck on the swan's path be?" "Scant time have we for that," my father said, "for tide will not wait." "Then," said the boy, "it were well to take the stone altar with us, and make sacrifice on board. I have heard that Aegir is wrathful and strong."
But Hereward scouted that as unmanly and cowardly, and sang, "With blood of my bold ones, With bale of my comrades, Thinks Aegir, brine-thirsty, His throat he can slake? Though salt spray, shrill-sounding, Sweep in swan's-flights above us, True heroes, troth-plighted, Together we'll die." At last, after many days, their strength was all but worn out.
Painfully the gods forced themselves to take up their conversation, though all avoided talking directly to Loki, whose expression became more lowering every moment. At length Odin turned to his host. "This servant, Funfeng, is deft and skilful. Even in my palace I have not his superior." Aegir bowed.
In his rude but hearty way old AEgir welcomed them; and they went down into his amber hall, and rested themselves upon the sea-green couches that had been spread for them. And a thousand fair mermaids stood around them, and breathed sweet melodies through sea-shells of rainbow hue, while the gentle white-veiled daughters of the Ocean-king danced to the bewitching music.
"See, child of my heart," said Hilda, addressing Edith, while she still gazed on the western luminary, "see, the sun goes down to the far deeps, where Rana and Aegir watch over the worlds of the sea; but with morning he comes from the halls of the Asas the golden gates of the East and joy comes in his train.
Neither before this had any sea come on board since we lowered the gunwale nor did any come afterward. Gerda clutched my arm, swaying with the ship, and then she cried in a strange voice: "It is Aegir! Aegir himself who has taken him!" That was in my mind also, and no wonder. The happening seemed plainly beyond the natural.
It is strange, after our beautiful Apollo statues and clear smiling mythuses, to come down upon the Norse Gods "brewing ale" to hold their feast with Aegir, the Sea-Jotun; sending out Thor to get the caldron for them in the Jotun country; Thor, after many adventures, clapping the Pot on his head, like a huge hat, and walking off with it, quite lost in it, the ears of the Pot reaching down to his heels!
Another item of the programme was a sort of automatic machine, which, when a gold medal was placed in the slot, would perform "Der gesang an Ihr," the song to her meaning, of course, Madame Parlaghy. The joke, I need hardly say, consisted in the parodying of the title of the emperor's musical composition "Sang am Aegir!"
But the ships sailed steadily onward, and every hour brought them nearer and nearer to the wished-for haven. At length, on the ninth day, they came in sight of a long, flat coast, stretching far away towards the Lowlands, where Old AEgir and his daughters sometimes by wasting warfare, sometimes by stealthy strategy ever plot and toil to widen the Sea-king's domains.
You have heard of the feast that old Aegir once made for the Asa-folk in his gold-lit dwelling in the deep sea, and how the feast was hindered, through the loss of his great brewing kettle, until Thor had obtained a still larger vessel from Hymer the giant.
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