came to the place where dwelt the swarthy elves and the cunning dwarf
Andvari. There the River Rhine, no larger than a meadow brook, breaks
forth from beneath a mountain of ice, which the Frost giants and the
Winter-king had built long years before; for they had vainly hoped that
they might imprison the river at its fountain head. But the baby brook
had eaten its way beneath the frozen mass, and had sprung out from its
prison, and gone on, leaping and smiling, and kissing the sunlight, in
its ever-widening course toward the distant sea.

Loki came to this place, because he knew that here was the home of the
elves who had laid up the greatest hoard of treasures ever known in the
mid-world. He scanned with careful eyes the mountain side, and the
deep, rocky caverns, and the dark gorge through which the little river
rushed; but in the dim moonlight not a living being could he see, save
a lazy salmon swimming in the quieter eddies of the stream. Anyone but
Loki would have lost all hope of finding treasure there, at least
before the dawn of day; but his wits were quick and his eyes were very
sharp.

"One salmon has brought us into this trouble, and another shall help us
out of it!" he cried.

Then, swift as thought, he sprang again into the air; and the magic
shoes carried him with greater speed than before down the Rhine valley,
and through Burgundyland and the low meadows, until he came to the
shores of the great North Sea. He sought the halls of old Aegir, the
Ocean-king; but he wist not which way to go--whether across the North
Sea towards Isenland, or whether along the narrow channel between
Britain land and the main. While he paused, uncertain where to turn,
he saw the pale-haired daughters of old Aegir, the white-veiled Waves,