Thor and the Giant’s Kettle

Once the gods of Asgard went to dinner with old Aegir, the king of the sea. Down under the green waves they went, to the coral palace where Aegir lived with his wife, Queen Ran, and their daughters, the Waves. But Aegir had not expected so many guests, and he did not have enough mead for them all to drink.

“I must brew some more,” he said to himself. But when he looked for a kettle to brew it in, there was not one in the whole sea big enough. At first Aegir did not know what to do. Then he decided to ask the gods themselves, because he knew how wise and powerful they were, and he hoped they could help him find a kettle.

The gods were very interested when he told them his trouble, because they were hungry and thirsty and wanted some of Aegir’s good mead. “Where can we find a kettle?” they asked one another. “Who owns a kettle big enough to hold mead for all of us?”

Then brave Tyr turned to Thor with a grand idea. “My father, the giant Hymir, has a kettle like that,” he said. “I have seen it many times in his great hall near the icy river Elivagar. That famous kettle is a mile deep, and surely that is big enough to brew all the mead we could want.”

“Surely it is,” laughed Aegir. “But how will we get it, my noble guests? Who will go to the land of the giants and fetch a kettle a mile deep?”

“I will,” said Thor. “I will go to Hymir’s house and bring back his little kettle, if Tyr will come with me to show me the way.”

So Thor and Tyr set off together for the land of snow and ice where Hymir lived. They travelled far and fast, and at last they came to the enormous house that had once been Tyr’s home, before he went to live among the gods in Asgard.

Tyr knew how to get in, and soon they were standing in Hymir’s hall, looking around for the kettle they had come so far to find. Sure enough, eight huge kettles hung in a row from one of the beams of the ceiling.

While they were wondering which one it was, in came Tyr’s grandmother, and a terrible grandmother she was. It was no wonder Tyr had run away from home when he was little, because she was a giantess with nine hundred heads, and she greeted the visitors with furious hostility. She began to roar and bellow, and who knows what she would have done to her grandson and his friend if another woman had not come into the hall just then.

The newcomer wore glittering golden jewellery and greeted them kindly. She was Tyr’s mother, who loved him dearly and had missed him for many long years. With a cry of joy she threw her arms around his neck and welcomed him forty times over. She welcomed Thor too when she learned who he was, but she sent the wicked old grandmother away so she would not hear his name, because the giants did not love Thor, who had brought grief and death to so many of them.

“Why have you come back after so many years, my dear son?” she cried. “I know some great task must have brought you and this fine fellow to your father’s hall, because danger and death wait here for people like you. Tell me your secret, Tyr. I will not give it away.”

So they told her they had come to carry off the giant kettle, and she promised to help them as much as she could. But she warned them that it would be very dangerous, because Hymir had been in a terrible temper for days, and the mere sight of a stranger made him wild with fury. She quickly gave them food and drink, because they were almost starving after their long journey, and then she looked around for somewhere to hide them before Hymir came home from hunting.

“I know!” she cried. “You shall hide in the great kettle itself. If Hymir’s fierce eyes do not spot you, you may find a way to escape with your hiding place, which is just what you want.” So she helped them climb into the biggest and strongest of the eight kettles where it hung from the rafter.

They had hardly curled up out of sight when she began to tremble. “Hush! I hear him coming. Keep as still as you can!” The floor began to shake and the eight kettles clanged against each other as Hymir’s giant footsteps came nearer. Outside, the icebergs crashed together with a noise like thunder, and the whole earth shivered as the terrible giant strode home. He came into the hall puffing and blowing, and at once the air grew icy cold, because his beard was hung with icicles, his face was frozen hard and his breath was a freezing winter wind.

“Ho, wife!” he growled. “What news? I can see from the footprints in the snow that you have had visitors today.”

His wife trembled, but she tried not to look afraid. “Yes, Hymir, you have a guest you have long wanted to see. Your son Tyr has come home to his father’s hall.”

“Humph!” growled Hymir with a terrible frown. “And who has the rascal brought with him? There are two sets of footprints in the snow. Tell me everything, wife, for I will find out the truth anyway.”

“He has brought a friend, a dear friend,” she said nervously. “Surely our son’s friends are welcome when he comes home after so long.”

But Hymir howled with rage at the word friend. “Where are they hiding? Friend, indeed! It is one of those murderous fellows from Asgard, I know it, one of those giant-killers my mother taught me to hate. Let me at him! Tell me where he is, or I will pull the hall down around your ears!”

His wife knew he had to be obeyed, but she still tried to put off the moment. “They are standing over there, behind that pillar,” she said. Hymir glared at the pillar, and under his frosty stare, snick-snack, the marble pillar cracked in two. Down crashed the great beam that held the eight kettles. Smash! The kettles fell and shattered into little pieces at Hymir’s feet, all except one, the biggest of them all, where Thor and Tyr lay hiding, hardly daring to breathe.

Tyr’s mother screamed when she saw the big kettle fall, but when she saw that it lay on its side unbroken, because it was so tough and strong, she held her breath to see what would happen next.

Out stepped Thor and Tyr. They bowed low to Hymir and stood side by side, smiling as calmly as if they were enjoying all the fuss, and perhaps they were, for they had been in the land of the giants many times before.

Hymir hardly glanced at his son, but he scowled at Thor with hatred and suspicion. He knew Thor belonged to Odin’s brave family, though he could not tell which one he was. Still, now that Thor was actually in front of him, he decided to be polite, and in a gruff voice he invited the two guests to supper.

Now Thor was as mighty at the table as he was in battle, and his eyes sparkled at the sight of the food. There were three roast oxen on the giant’s table, and Thor tucked in and ate two of them all by himself. You should have seen the giant stare.

“Friend, you have a fine appetite,” said Hymir. “You have eaten all the meat in my larder. If you eat with us tomorrow, you must catch your own dinner of fish. I cannot feed an appetite like that!”

That was not very welcoming of Hymir, but Thor did not mind. “I love fishing, good Hymir,” he laughed. “When you go out in your boat in the morning, I will come too and see what I can find for my dinner at the bottom of the sea.”

In the morning the giant got ready to go fishing, and Thor got up early to go with him. “Ho, Hymir,” said Thor, “do you have enough bait for both of us?”

“When you fish with me, you dig your own bait,” Hymir answered rudely. “I have no time to waste on you.”

So Thor looked around for something to use as bait, and soon he spotted a herd of Hymir’s oxen grazing in a meadow. “The very thing!” he cried. He grabbed the biggest ox of all and trotted down to the shore with it under his arm, as easily as you might carry a handful of clams. Hymir was furious. He pushed the boat out and began to row away as fast as he could, so that Thor would not be able to get in. But Thor took one long stride and planted himself firmly in the stern.

“No, no, brother Hymir,” he laughed. “You invited me fishing, and fishing I will go, for I have my bait, and I expect great luck today.”

So Thor took an oar and rowed hard at the back, while Hymir rowed hard at the front, and no boat ever skimmed over the water as fast as that one did the day those two giants of strength went fishing together. Far and fast they went, until Hymir shouted, “Stop! Let us anchor here. This is my luckiest fishing spot.”

“And what little fish do you catch here, Hymir?” asked Thor.

“Whales!” said the giant proudly. “I fish for nothing smaller than whales.”

“Pooh!” said Thor. “Who wants such tiny fry? Let us row further out, where there is something really worth catching.” And he pulled even harder.

“Stop! Stop!” roared the giant. “You don’t know what you are doing! These are the waters of the dreadful Midgard serpent. It is not safe to fish here.”

“The Midgard serpent!” said Thor, delighted. “That is just the fish I want. Let us drop our lines here.”

Thor baited his great hook with the whole head of the ox and threw his line, as thick as a man’s arm, over the side. Hymir threw his line too, because he did not want Thor to think he was a coward, but his hand shook as he waited for a bite, and he stared down into the blue depths with eyes as round as dinner plates, terrified of the horrible creature that lived below.

“Look! You have a bite!” shouted Thor so suddenly that Hymir jumped and nearly fell out of the boat. Hand over hand the giant hauled in his line, and he had caught two whales, two great flapping whales, on his single hook. That was quite a catch.

Hymir forgot his fear and smiled proudly. “How about that, my friend? Let us see you beat that this morning.”

At that very moment Thor felt a bite, and what a bite! The boat rocked so hard it seemed it would tip over at any moment. The waves rose high and foamed all around them, as if some enormous creature were struggling beneath the water.

“I have him!” cried Thor. “I have the old serpent, the brother of the wolf Fenrir! Pull, monster, pull, but you will not get away from me now!”

And it was true. The Midgard serpent had Thor’s hook caught fast in its jaw, and however it struggled, it could not shake itself free, because the harder it pulled, the stronger Thor became. He grew so huge and mighty that his legs went right through the bottom of the boat and his feet stood on the floor of the sea. Bracing himself against the seabed, Thor pulled and pulled, until at last the serpent’s head came up beside the boat. It rose out of the water as high as a mountain, horrible to see. Its huge red eyes rolled, fire spurted from its nostrils and poison dripped from its sharp teeth and hissed as it fell into the sea. Thor and the serpent glared at each other while water poured into the boat, and the giant turned white with fear.

Thor grabbed his hammer to strike the creature’s head. But just as he swung Mjollnir high for the blow, Hymir cut the fishing line with his knife, and the Midgard serpent sank back into the deep in a whirl of foam. The hammer had already flown from Thor’s iron grip. It struck the serpent’s head as it sank toward its lair on the sandy floor of the sea, and wounded it, but did not kill it, thanks to the giant’s treachery.

Down below the waves there was a terrible upheaval. Rocks burst, the caves of the ocean shook to pieces, coral groves were wrecked and curtains of seaweed were torn loose. Fish fled in every direction, and sea monsters searched wildly for new places to hide. The sea was stirred to its very bottom, the waves ran trembling into one another’s arms, and the earth itself shuddered. Hymir, crouching low in the boat, was glad of only one thing: the terrible serpent had gone. That was the last anyone saw of it, though it still lived, wounded and sore from the blow of Thor’s hammer.

Now it was time to go home. The giant swam back to land in sulky silence. Thor lifted the boat onto his shoulders, full of water as it was and heavy with Hymir’s two whales, and waded ashore with it to the giant’s hall. Hymir met him there in a foul mood. He was ashamed that Thor had looked so much more of a hero than he had all morning, and he was tired of pretending to be a good host. He wanted to be rid of his guest, but first he meant to make a fool of him.

“You are a strong fellow,” he said, “good at rowing and good at fishing, and wonderfully good with a hammer, which tells me you are Thor. But there is one thing I bet you cannot do. You cannot break this little cup of mine, however hard you try.”

“We shall see,” said Thor, and he took the cup. Now this was a magic cup, and there was only one thing in the world hard enough to break it. Thor threw it with all his strength against a stone in the floor, but instead of the cup breaking, the stone cracked into splinters. Thor grew angry, because the giant and all his servants were roaring with laughter as if this were the best joke ever.

“Ho, ho! Try again, Thor!” cried Hymir, almost bursting with glee, because he thought he would prove he was mightier than the visitor from Asgard. Thor gripped the cup harder and hurled it at one of the iron pillars of the hall, but the cup only bounced straight back into Hymir’s hand like a rubber ball. At this second failure the giants laughed even louder, dancing about and making fun of Thor. You can imagine how much Thor enjoyed that. His face darkened and his eyes flashed terribly. He knew there was magic in the trick, but he did not know how to beat it.

Just then he felt a woman’s gentle hand on his arm, and Tyr’s mother whispered in his ear, “Throw the cup at Hymir’s own forehead. It is the hardest thing in the world.”

No one else heard her, because the giants were doubled up with laughter. Thor dropped to one knee, seized the cup, whirled it around his head and flung it with all his might straight at Hymir’s forehead. Smash! Crash! Thor looked to see what had happened. There stood the giant, surprised and a little dazed, but without a scratch on his forehead, while the strong cup lay in pieces.

“Well done!” said Hymir quickly, when he had got over his surprise. But he was annoyed that Thor had succeeded, and he began thinking of a new task. “That was very good,” he said in a superior way. “Now you must do something harder. Let us see you carry the mead kettle out of the hall. Do that, my fine fellow, and I will say you are strong indeed.”

The mead kettle! The very thing Thor had come for! He glanced at Tyr and then at Tyr’s mother, and both of them caught the sparkle in his eye, which was very like a wink. “I must not fail,” Thor muttered to himself. “I will not fail.”

“Let me try first,” said Tyr, to give Thor a moment to rest. Twice Tyr strained at the great kettle, but he could not lift even one of its feet off the floor. He tugged and heaved until he was red in the face, until his mother begged him to stop, because it was no use.

Then Thor stepped forward. He took hold of the kettle’s rim and stamped his feet right through the stone floor to brace himself. One, two, three! Thor straightened up, and the giant kettle swung up onto his head, with its iron handle clanking around his heels. It was a mighty load, and Thor staggered as he set off for the door, but Tyr stayed close beside him, and they had covered many miles before the astonished giants came to their senses and chased after them.

When Thor and Tyr looked back, they saw a huge crowd of horrible giants, some with a hundred heads, pouring out of the caves of Hymir’s land and howling along their trail. “You must stop them, Thor,” cried Tyr, “or they will never let us get away with their precious kettle. They take such long strides!”

So Thor set down the kettle and took out Mjollnir, his wonderful hammer. It flashed terribly as he swung it over his head, and then it flew off toward the land of the giants, and before it came back to Thor’s hand it had crushed all those many-headed giants, Hymir and his mother among them. The only one who escaped was Tyr’s helpful mother, and you may be sure she lived happily ever after in the palace that Hymir and his wicked mother had made such a miserable home for her.

Now Tyr and Thor had the giant kettle they had travelled so far and faced so many dangers to win. They carried it to Aegir’s palace under the sea, where the feast was still going on and the gods were still patiently waiting for their mead, for time passes slowly under the quiet waves. Now that King Aegir had the great kettle, he could brew all the mead they needed, and everyone thanked Tyr and praised Thor for their adventure.

“I knew Thor would bring the kettle,” said lovely Sif, smiling at her brave husband.

“What Thor sets out to do, he always does,” said Father Odin gravely. And that was praise enough for anyone.

Where this story comes from

This tale comes from the Old Norse poem Hymiskvida (“The Lay of Hymir”) in the Poetic Edda, with the fishing for the Midgard serpent also told in Snorri Sturluson’s Prose Edda. This telling follows the version for young readers by Abbie Farwell Brown, “Thor’s Fishing”, in In the Days of Giants: A Book of Norse Tales (1902).

In Hymiskvida, Tyr is Hymir’s son, and the giant’s cup can only be broken on his own hard head. Brown adds some playful touches of her own, such as the rubber-ball bounce. In this telling Hymir cuts the line, and Thor’s blow wounds rather than kills the serpent. Its later confrontation with Thor belongs to the Ragnarok story.

Read the original: Abbie Farwell Brown, In the Days of Giants (Project Gutenberg)

Suggested for ages 9–12 with guidance for animal killing, threats within a household and the giants crushed at the end.

Strength meets a problem it cannot solve

Thor’s appetite creates the fishing errand, and his choice of bait and fishing ground escalates the quarrel. Hymir is threatening, but Thor is not simply a guest minding his own business. Brown tells the episode largely from Thor’s side, so words such as “treachery” invite readers to examine whose safety and property count.

The unbreakable cup interrupts the pattern of greater force bringing success. Thor can shatter stone and still fail. Tyr’s mother supplies the missing knowledge, just as she earlier supplies food and a hiding place. Her quiet interventions make the loud triumph possible, although the gods’ final praise chiefly goes to Thor.

Mark each kind of help

List three obstacles: entering Hymir’s hall, breaking the cup and carrying the kettle. Identify what strength achieves and where information or shelter is needed. Then retell the cup scene briefly from Tyr’s mother’s viewpoint, using only actions the story actually gives her.

Talk about it

• Why did the gods need a giant kettle, and why was Tyr the right one to help?
• How did Tyr’s mother help Thor at the most important moments?
• Hymir cut the fishing line. Why do you think he did it?

Related stories

• The Theft of Thor’s Hammer — another Thor adventure among the giants
• Ragnarok, the Twilight of the Gods — where Thor and the Midgard serpent meet again
• Tyr and the Binding of Fenrir — more about brave Tyr