MYTHOLOGY 



4047 



MYTHOLOGY 



rose petals. Occasionally some god, with a laugh, 

 would rush upon Balder and strike him with a 

 battle-ax, but the charmed god felt no touch of 

 the ax. 



But there was one god who had had no invita- 

 tion to this sport Loki ; and when he passed by 

 and saw it he was* furiously angry. Did all 

 things then love Balder? He hastily made a 

 crafty plan, and disguising himself as a poor old 

 woman, went to Frigga's palace. 



"Mother of the gods," said this old woman, 

 "your son Balder will be killed, for the gods are 

 hurling at him their sharpest darts." 



"Ah," said the happy mother, "they cannot 

 harm him, for all things in heaven and earth 

 have taken an oath not to injure him." 



velous !" said the visitor. "You must be a 

 proud mother to have such honor shown your 

 son. Did you really mean everything?" 



answered Frigga. "O no," she added 

 carelessly. "I did not trouble to ask the little 

 shrub on the oak eastward of Valhalla it could 

 do no one any harm." 



With more Mattering words Loki slipped away, 

 resuming his own shape when out of sight of 

 Frigga. To the Valhalla oak he hastened, cut off 

 the mistletoe, now grown larger and stronger, and 

 from it fashioned a dart. Then he joined the 

 other gods at the sporting ground, and found 

 them none too glad to see him. He approached 

 Hoder, Balder's blind brother, who stood apart, 

 with no weapon in his hand, and asked him why 

 he did not join in the game. 



"'Madly would I do honor to Balder," said 

 Hoder, "but I cannot tell in which direction to 

 throw, nor have I anything to hurl." 



"That I can remedy," said Loki. "I will di 

 aim, and I will give you the dart which I 

 in my hand." 



Gladly Hoder agreed, and under Loki's guid- 

 threw the mistletoe dart, but instead of 

 falling harmless at Balder's feet it pierced him 

 through and through, and he fell down dead. 

 For a moment there was a horror-stricken silence, 

 a wail of anguish went up, and the gods 

 led toward Hoder and demanded his life. 

 Heimdall, wisest of the gods, persuaded them 

 it was not the fault of the blind Hoder, 

 grief was great, but of the treacherous 

 who had now vanished, and he induced them 

 turn from thoughts of vengeance to plans for 

 Inglng Balder ! 

 Then Hermod, called the NlniM. mminti-d 

 ^-ht -footed Hteed Slelpnir. and rode away 

 the abode of Hela, goddess of the dead, to 

 for Balder's n-tuin. It was a long and 

 journey, through dreadful caverns, cold 

 dark, but at last he came to Hela's realm 

 made his plea; but the dark goddess was 

 daughter of Loki and remained unmoved at 

 <>f the grief in AJK 



o said coldly, "whether It Is 

 that everything loved and mourns for him. 

 nil things In the world, whether they have life 

 no, weep for him. he shall go back, but If one 

 or one thing refuse to weep, here he shall 



Some* ,,| rode back to As- 



and told this tale, and messengers were 

 through all the world to beg everything to 



weep for Balder. Only success greeted them for 

 some time, but at length they found an old hag 

 sitting at the mouth of a cave, and she only 

 mocked them when they made their request. 



"With dry tears will I weep." she scoffed. 

 "Hela shall keep her prey." 



"It is Loki in disguise," they whispered as they 

 made their way sorrowfully back to Asgard, 

 where they told the weeping gods that Balder 

 should return no more. 



Then they carried the beautiful body of Balder 

 to the seashore and laid it upon his great ship, 

 whereon had l>een raised a funeral pile. Each 

 god cast into the pile his chief treasure, and 

 then the fire was applied. At the last moment 

 Balder's wife Nanna hurled herself upon the pile, 

 because she could not live without her husband. 

 All ablaze, the ship, with its sails set. was 

 launched for the open sea. and silently the gods 

 stood and watched it as it drifted on and on, 

 burning ever higher and higher. Apd when the 

 night was almost gone the flame, now far dis- 

 tant, flickered out. and the gods knew that Balder 

 was gone from them for< 



In this myth Balder, the bright and beauti- 

 ful, represents the summer, all too fleeting in 

 the northern lands; while Hoder, blind and 

 grim, is the winter with its bitter strength. And 

 the death of Balder is of course the slaying of 

 the summer by the winter's cold. 



The Greeks had another weather myth which 

 must have been the delight of children in those 

 early days. It is as follow- 



The Story of I*hnethon 



When the boys with whom Phaethon played 

 about the fields and river banks boasted of their 

 fathers, Phaethon was silent. His mother, he 

 knew, was more beautiful than the mothers of 

 his friends ; his grandfather was a wealthy, hon- 

 ored man ; but his father he knew nothing what- 

 ever about a father. This was bad enough, but 

 when his playmates began to see that such was 

 the fact, they made him suffer constantly. 



"No one can play in this game unless he <.m 

 tell who his father is," one would cry mlschu - 

 vously. 



"Let's spend our time telling a limit the pivat- 

 Iceds our fathers c\ uld 



suggest. 



And Phaethon. ashamed and angry, would rush 

 home to his mother and pour out his wrath and 



Some day, Phaethon." she would assure him. 

 "you shall know about your father, and thru 

 none of the other boys will dare to tnunt you." 



it I want to know now!" Phaethon would 

 insist, stamping his foot. 



"You are too young yet. my son," Clymene 

 would reply, looking sadly at her son. 



At length one day when Phaethon had grown 

 to be a tall, handsome lad, he came Into the 

 house In a fiercer state of anger than usual. 



I will endure this no longer!" he ct 

 "Hither I shall be able to tell those insulting 

 boys tomorrow who my fnther Is, or I shall never 

 look them In the face again." 



