“Fenris, you are stronger than any of the gods.  We cannot break this chain, but for you it will be mere child’s play.  Let yourself be bound with it, that we may see how great your strength really is.”

Now the wolf knew his might better than any of them did, and he suffered himself to be bound fast.  Then he arose, stretched himself as if he were just waking from a nap, and calmly walked off, leaving the fragments of the chain on the ground.  The amazed gods looked at each other with fright in their eyes—­what could they do?

“I will make a stronger chain,” said Thor, undiscouraged.  And again he went to his smithy, where he worked all day and all night.

“This is the strongest chain that can ever be made,” he said, when he presented it to the gods.  “If this will not hold him, nothing can.”

Calling the wolf, they flattered him and praised his strength, and finally persuaded him to let himself be bound with this chain, “just for a joke.”  You may be sure, however, that they said nothing about its being the strongest chain that could ever be made.

Fenris pretended to lie helpless for a time; then he struggled to his feet, shook his mighty limbs, tossed his hideous head—­and the chain snapped, and fell into a hundred pieces!  Then indeed there was consternation among the gods; but Odin, the all-wise, had a sudden helpful thought.  Calling his swiftest messenger, he said: 

“Go to the dwarfs in their underground smithy.  Tell them to forge for us a chain which cannot be broken; and do you make all haste, for the wolf grows stronger each moment.”

[Illustration:  The gods were amazed]

Off hastened the messenger, and in less time than it takes to tell it he was with the dwarfs, giving them the message from Odin.  The little men bustled about here and there, gathering up the materials of which the chain was to be made; and when these were all collected and piled in a heap, you might have looked and looked, and you would have seen nothing!  For this extraordinary chain was made of such things as the roots of mountains, the sound of a cat’s footsteps, a woman’s beard, the spittle of birds and the voice of fishes.  When it was finished the messenger hurried back to Asgard and displayed it proudly to the anxious gods.  It was as fine and soft as a silken string, but the gods knew the workmanship of the dwarfs, and had no fear.

“It will be easy,” they said, “to persuade Fenris to let himself be bound with this.”

But they were mistaken.  The wolf looked at the soft, shining cord suspiciously, and said: 

“If that is what it looks to be, I shall gain no honor from breaking it; if it has been made by magic, I shall never free myself.”

“But we will free you,” cried the gods.  “This is but a game to test your strength.”

“Not you,” growled the wolf.  “I’ve lived here long enough to know that if I don’t look out for myself, no one else will look out for me.”