heat but the pig-skin; with mighty blows and delicate touches he brought thickness and substance into it, until a board looked at him from the flames.  Loki, fearing for his head, changed himself into an enormous forest fly, and settling upon Brok’s hand, stung with vicious fury; but the dwarf would not trouble to brush the fly away, and steadily moved the bellows until his brother called to him to stop, when they drew forth a strong flexible boar whose bristles were of the finest gold.

Then without saying anything or paying any attention to the spiteful words which Loki kept uttering, Sindri chose from a heap of gold the most solid lump he could find and flung it into the white flames.  Thrice it was heated and cooled, and the dark elf turned it and worked it with wonderful skill, and in the glow Loki saw a broad red ring, which seemed to live and move.  Again he tried to spoil the work as a fly, and bit deeply into Brok’s neck, but Brok would not so much as raise his hand to rid him of the pain.  When the ring was finally laid to cool, so marvelously had it been wrought that from it each ninth night would fall eight rings as beautiful as itself.

Now came the last test of Sindri’s cunning.  He cast into the furnace a piece of fine iron, and told Brok his hand must neither tremble nor stay, or the whole of their work would be useless.  Then with wild songs of strength upon his lips he hammered and tapped, until those who were in the cave felt that they were out among the roaring waves; they could hear the ice mountains grind and crash to pieces, and the thunder of Thor’s chariot wheels rushing through the heavens.  A frenzied horror seized upon Loki’s mind.  If these wretched dwarfs were going to make anything to add to Thor’s strength he knew that it would be his own ruin.  So, changing himself to a hornet, he sprang upon the forehead of Brok, and dug so fiercely into his eyelids that the blood trickled down and blinded him.  Then the dwarf let go of the bellows for one moment to clear his eyes, and Sindri cried out that what lay in the furnace came near to being spoiled, and with that he took a red-hot hammer up with his tongs.  It was neither pretty, nor particularly large, while the handle was an inch too short because of Loki’s spite.

Then Brok and Loki set out for Asgard, Loki carrying the three wonderful things which had been given to him, while Brok carried the three marvels which Sindri had so cunningly wrought and accompanied the mischief-maker, that the gods might judge who had won the wager so rashly offered by Loki.  When they reached Asgard the gods seated themselves on their high seats agreeing among themselves that Odin, Thor and Frey should be judges in this case.