The Prose Edda 2.18

Then said, Ægir: "Methinks Hrungnir was of great might. Did Thor accomplish yet more valorous deeds when he had to do with the trolls?" And Bragi answered: "It is worthy to be told at length, how Thor went to Geirrödr's dwelling. At that time he had not the hammer Mjöllnir with him, nor his Girdle of Might, nor the iron gauntlets: and that was the fault of Loki, who went with him. For once, flying in his sport with Frigg's hawk-plumage, it had happened to Loki to fly for curiosity's sake into Geirrödr's court. There he saw a great hall, and alighted and looked in through the window; and Geirrödr looked up and saw him, and commanded that the bird be taken and brought to him, But he who was sent could scarce get to the top of the wall, so high was it; and it seemed pleasant to Loki to see the man striving with toil and pains to reach him, and he thought it was not yet time to fly away until the other had accomplished the perilous climb. When the man pressed hard after him, then he stretched his wings for flight, and thrust out vehemently, but now his feet were stuck fast.

So Loki was taken and brought before Geirrödr the giant; but when Geirrödr saw his eyes, he suspected that this might be a man, and bade him answer; but Loki was silent. Then Geirrödr shut Loki into a chest and starved him there three months. And now when Geirrödr took him out and commanded him to speak, Loki told who he was; and by way of ransom for his life he swore to Geirrödr with oaths that he would get Thor to come into Geirrödr's dwelling in such a fashion that he should have neither hammer nor Girdle of Might with him.

"Thor came to spend the night with that giantess who was called Grídr, mother of Vídarr the Silent. She told Thor the truth concerning Geirrödr, that he was a crafty giant and ill to deal with; and she lent him the Girdle of Might and iron gloves which she possessed, and her staff also, which was called Grídr's Rod. Then Thor proceeded to the river named Vimur, greatest of all rivers. There he girded himself with the Girdle of Might and braced firmly downstream with Grídr's Rod, and Loki held on behind by the Girdle of Might. When Thor came to mid-current, the river waxed so greatly that it broke high upon his shoulders. Then Thor sang this:

Wax thou not now, Vimur, For I fain would wade thee Into the Giants' garth: Know thou, if thou waxest, Then waxeth God-strength in me As high up as the heaven.

"Then Thor saw Gjálp, daughter of Geirrödr, standing in certain ravines, one leg in each, spanning the river, and she was causing the spate. Then Thor snatched up a great stone out of the river and cast it at her, saying these words: 'At its source should a river be stemmed.' Nor did he miss that at which he threw. In that moment he came to the shore and took hold of a rowan-clump, and so climbed out of the river; whence comes the saying that rowan is Thor's deliverance.

"Now when Thor came before Geirrödr, the companions were shown first into the goat-fold for their entertainment, and there was one chair there for a seat, and Thor sat there. Then he became aware that the chair moved under him up toward the roof: he thrust Grídr's Rod up against the rafters and pushed back hard against the chair. Then there was a great crash, and screaming followed. Under the chair had been Geirrödr's daughters, Gjálp and Greip; and he had broken both their backs. Then Geirrödr had Thor called into the hall to play games. There were great fires the whole length of the hall. When Thor came up over against Geirrödr, then Geirrödr took up a glowing bar of iron with the tongs and cast it at Thor. Thor caught it with his iron gloves and raised the bar in the air, but Geirrödr leapt behind an iron pillar to save himself. Thor lifted up the bar and threw it, and it passed through the pillar and through Geirrödr and through the wall, and so on out, even into the earth. Eilífr Gudrúnarson has wrought verses on this story, in Thórsdrápa: :[The winding sea-snake's father :Did wile from home the slayer :Of the life of the gods' grim foemen; :—(Ever was Loptr a liar)— :The never faithful Searcher :Of the heart of the fearless Thunderer :Declared green ways were lying :To the walled stead of Geirrödr.

No long space Thor let Loki Lure him to the going: They yearned to overmaster Thorn's offspring, when the Seeker Of Idi's garth, than giants Greater in might, made ready In ancient days, for faring To the Giants' Seat, from Odin's.

Further in the faring Forward went warlike Thjálfi With the divine Host-Cheerer Than the deceiving lover Of her of enchanted singing: —(I chant the Ale of Odin)— The hill dame's Mocker measured The moor with hollow foot-soles.

And the war-wonted journeyed Till the hill-women's Waster Came to Gangr's blood, the Vimur; Then Loki's bale-repeller, Eager in anger, lavish Of valor, longed to struggle Against the maid, kinswoman Of the sedge-cowled giant.

And the honor-lessener Of the Lady of the Sea-Crag Won foot-hold in the surging Of the hail-rolled leaping hill-spate; The rock-knave's swift Pursuer Passed the broad stream of his staff's road, Where the foam-flecked mighty rivers Frothed with raging venom.

There they set the staves before them In the streaming grove of dogfish; The wind-wood's slippery pebbles, Smitten to speech, slept not; The clashing rod did rattle 'Gainst the worn rocks, and the rapid Of the fells howled, storm-smitten, On the river's stony anvil.

The Weaver of the Girdle Beheld the washing slope-stream Fall on his hard-grown shoulders: No help he found to save him; The Minisher of hill-folk Caused Might to grow within him Even to the roof of heaven, Till the rushing flood should ebb.

The fair warriors of the Æsir, In battle wise, fast waded, And the surging pool, sward-sweeping, Streamed: the earth-drift's billow, Blown by the mighty tempest, Tugged with monstrous fury At the terrible oppressor Of the earth-born tribe of cave-folk.

Till Thjálfi came uplifted On his lord Thor's wide shield-strap: That was a mighty thew-test For the Prop of Heaven; the maidens Of the harmful giant stiffly Held the stream stubborn against them; The Giantess-Destroyer With Grídr's staff fared sternly.

Nor did their hearts of rancor Droop in the men unblemished, Nor courage 'gainst the headlong Fall of the current fail them: A fiercer-daring spirit Flamed in the dauntless God's breast,— With terror Thor's staunch heart-stone Trembled not, nor Thjálfi's.

And afterward the haters Of the host of sword-companions, The shatterers of bucklers, Dinned on the shield of giants, Ere the destroying peoples Of the shingle-drift of monsters Wrought the helm-play of Hedinn 'Gainst the rock-dwelling marksmen.

The hostile folk of sea-heights Fled before the Oppressor Of headland tribes; the dalesmen Of the hill-tops, imperilled, Fled, when Odin's kindred Stood, enduring staunchly; The Danes of the flood-reef's border Bowed down to the Flame-Shaker.

Where the chiefs, with thoughts of valor Imbued, marched into Thorn's house, A mighty crash resounded Of the cave's ring-wall; the slayer Of the mountain-reindeer-people On the giant-maiden's wide hood Was brought in bitter peril: There was baleful peace-talk.

And they pressed the high head, bearing The piercing brow-moon's eye-flame Against the hill-hall's rafters; On the high roof-tree broken He crushed those raging women: The swinging Storm-car's Guider Burst the stout, ancient back-ridge And breast-bones of both women.

Earth's Son became familiar With knowledge strange; the cave-men Of the land of stone o'ercame not, Nor long with ale were merry: The frightful elm-string's plucker, The friend of Sudri, hurtled The hot bar, in the forge fused, Into the hand of Odin's Gladdener.

So that Gunnr's Swift-Speeder Seized (the Friend of Freyja), With quick hand-gulps, the molten High-raised draught of metal, When the fire-brand, glowing, Flew with maddened fury From the giant's gripping fingers To the grim Sire of Thrúdr.

The hall of the doughty trembled When he dashed the massy forehead Of the hill-wight 'gainst the bottom Of the house-wall's ancient column; Ullr's glorious step-sire With the glowing bar of mischief Struck with his whole strength downward At the hill-knave's mid-girdle.

The God with gory hammer Crushed utterly Glaumr's lineage; The Hunter of the Kindred Of the hearth-dame was victorious; The Plucker of the Bow-String Lacked not his people's valor,— The Chariot-God, who swiftly Wrought grief to the Giant's bench-thanes.

He to whom hosts make offering Hewed down the dolt-like dwellers Of the cloud-abyss of Elf-Home, Crushing them with the fragment Of Grídr's Rod: the litter Of hawks, the race of Listi Could not harm the help-strong Queller of Ella's Stone-Folk.]