Then began the feasting.  Rich meats were handed around, and all was festive and gay.  No suspicion had Siegfried that he was doomed, for his heart was pure of all deceit.  But the wine had not yet been brought from the kitchen, whereat Sir Siegfried wondered.

Addressing Gunther, he said:  “Why do not your men bring us wine?  If this is the manner in which you treat good hunters, certes, I will hunt no more.  Surely I have deserved better at your hands.”

And the false Gunther answered:  “Blame me not, Siegfried, for the fault is Hagen’s.  Truly he would have us perish of thirst.”

“Dear master,” said Hagen of Trony, “the fault is mine—­if fault it be—­for methought we were to hunt to-day at Spessart and thither did I send the wine.  If we go thirsty to-day, credit me I will have better care another time.”

But Siegfried was athirst and said:  “If wine lacks, then must we have water.  We should have camped nearer to the Rhine.”

The Slaying of Siegfried

And Hagen, perceiving his chance, replied:  “I know of a cool spring close at hand.  If you will follow me I will lead you thither.”

Sore athirst was Siegfried, and starting up from his seat, he followed Hagen.  But the crafty schemer, desiring to draw him away from the company so that none else would follow them, said to him as they were setting out for the spring:  “Men say, Siegfried, that none can keep pace with you when you run.  Let us see now.”

“That may easily be proved,” said Siegfried.  “Let us run to the brook for a wager, and see who wins there first.  If I lose I will lay me before you in the grass.  Nay, I will more, for I will carry with me spear, shield, and hunting gear.”

Then did he gird on his weapons, even to his quiver, while the others stripped, and off they set.  But Siegfried easily passed them and arrived at the lime-tree where was the well.  But he would not drink first for courtesy, even although he was sore athirst.

Gunther came up, bent down to the water, and drank of the pure, cool well.  Siegfried then bent him to drink also.  But the false Hagen, carrying his bow and sword out of reach, sprang back and gripped the hero’s mighty spear.  Then looked he for the secret mark on his vesture that Kriemhild had worked.

As Siegfried drank from the stream Hagen poised the great spear and plunged it between the hero’s shoulders.  Deeply did the blade pierce through the spot where lay the secret mark, so that the blood spurted out on the traitor’s garments.  Hagen left the spear deep in Siegfried’s heart and flew in grim haste from the place.

Though wounded to the death, Siegfried rose from the stream like a maddened lion and cast about him for a weapon.  But nothing came to his hand but his shield.  This he picked up from the water’s edge and ran at Hagen, who might not escape him, for, sore wounded as he was, so mightily did he smite that the shield well-nigh burst and the jewels which adorned it flew in flinders.  The blow rang across the meadow as Hagen fell beneath the stroke.