and, the more she thought, the more she felt troubled. If her husband,
the wise Bragi, had been at home, what would she not have given? He
would have understood the mischief-maker's cunning. But he had gone on
a long journey to the South, singing in Nature's choir and painting
Nature's landscapes, and she would not see him again until the return
of spring. At length she opened the box, and looked at the fruit. The
apples were certainly fair and round: she could not see a wrinkle or a
blemish on any of them; their color was the same golden-red,--like the
sky at dawn of a summer's day; yet she thought there must be something
wrong about them. She took up one of the apples, and tasted it. She
fancied that it really was sour, and she hastily put it back, and
locked the box again.

"He said that he had seen better apples than these growing in the
woods," said she to herself. "I half believe that he told the truth,
although everybody knows that he is not always trustworthy. I think I
shall go to the forest and see for myself, at any rate."

So she donned her cloak and hood, and, with a basket on her arm, left
the house, and walked rapidly away, along the road which led to the
forest. It was much farther than she had thought, and the sun was
almost down when she reached the edge of the wood. But no apple trees
were there. Tall oaks stretched their bare arms up toward the sky, as
if praying for help. There were thorn trees and brambles everywhere;
but there was no fruit, neither were there any flowers, nor even green
leaves. The Frost-giants had been there.

Idun was about to turn her footsteps homeward, when she heard a wild
shriek in the tree-tops over her head; and, before she could look up,
she felt herself seized in the eagle talons of Old Winter. Struggle as