slender woollen thread had been cleft before.

"Now, indeed," cried Mimer, "I no longer fear to meet that upstart,
Amilias. If his war coat can withstand the stroke of such a sword as
Balmung, then I shall not be ashamed to be his underling. But, if this
good blade is what it seems to be, it will not fail me; and I, Mimer
the Old, shall still be called the wisest and greatest of smiths."

He sent word at once to Amilias, in Burgundyland, to meet him on a day,
and settle forever the question as to which of the two should be the
master, and which the underling. And heralds proclaimed it in every
town and dwelling. When the time which had been set drew near, Mimer,
bearing the sword Balmung, and followed by all his pupils and
apprentices, wended his way toward the place of meeting. Through the
forest they went, and then along the banks of the sluggish river, for
many a league, to the height of land which marked the line between
Siegfried's country and the country of the Burgundians. It was in this
place, midway between the shops of Mimer and Amilias, that the great
trial of metal and of skill was to be made. And here were already
gathered great numbers of people from the Lowlands and from Burgundy,
anxiously waiting for the coming of the champions.

When everything was in readiness for the contest, Amilias, clad in his
boasted war coat, went up to the top of the hill, and sat upon a rock,
and waited for Mimer's coming. As he sat there, he looked, to the
people below, like some great castle tower; for he was a giant in size,
and his coat of mail was so huge that twenty men of common mould might
have found shelter, or hidden themselves, within it. As the smith
Mimer, so dwarfish in stature, tolled up the steep hillside, Amilias
smiled to see him; for he felt no fear of the slender, gleaming blade