Before departing Siegfried had said farewell to Kriemhild, who, she knew not why, was filled with dark forebodings.

“God grant I may see thee safe and well again,” said Siegfried.  “Keep thou a merry heart among thy kin until I return.”

Then Kriemhild thought on the secret she had betrayed to Hagen, but she could not tell Siegfried of it.  Sorely she wept, wishing that she had never been born, and keen and deep was her grief.

“Husband,” she said, “go not to the hunt.  A baleful dream I had last night.  You stood upon the heath and two wild boars approached.  You fled, but they pursued you and wounded you, and the blossoms under your feet were red with blood.  You behold my tears.  Siegfried, I dread treachery.  Wot you not of some who cherish for us a deadly hate?  I counsel you, I beg you, dear lord, go not to the greenwood.”

Siegfried tried to laugh her fears away, “It is but for a few days that I leave thee, beloved,” he said.  “Who can bear me hate if I cherish none against them?  Thy brothers wish me well, nor have I offended them in any wise.”

But Kriemhild would not be comforted.  “Greatly do I dread this parting,” she wailed, “for I dreamed another dream.  You passed by two mountains, and they rocked on their bases, fell, and buried you, so that I saw you no more.  Go not, for bitterly will I grieve if you depart.”

But with a laugh and a kiss Siegfried was gone.  Leaping on his steed, he rode off at a gallop.  Nevermore was she to see him in life.

Into the gloomy forest, the abode of the bear, the wolf, and the wild boar, plunged the knights in their lust of royal sport.  Brilliant, brave, and goodly of cheer was the company, and rich was their entertainment.  Many pack-horses laden with meats and wines accompanied them, and the panniers on the backs of these bulged with flesh, fish, and game, fitting for the table of a great king.

On a broad meadow fringing the greenwood they camped, near to the place where they were to begin the hunt, and watchers were sent round the camp, so that no one with a message of warning on his lips might win to the ears of Siegfried.

Siegfried waxed restless, for he had come not to feast but to hunt, and he desired to be home again with Kriemhild.  “Ha, comrades,” he cried; “who will into the forest with me and rouse the game?”

“Then,” said the crafty Hagen, “let us find who is the best sportsman.  Let us divide the huntsmen and the hounds so that each may ride alone where he chooses; and great praise shall be to him who hunts the best and bears off the palm.”

To this Siegfried agreed, and asked only for one hound that had been well broken to the chase to accompany him.

This was granted.  Then there came an old huntsman with a limehound and led the sportsmen to where there was an abundance of game.  Many beasts were started and hunted to the death, as is ever the way with good huntsmen.