Part 23

Whereupon wild Lemminkainen Pulled his mouth awry in anger, Shook his coal-black locks and answered: “All the tables here are empty, And the feasting-time is over; All the beer has left the goblets, Empty too are all the pitchers, Empty are the larger vessels. O thou hostess of Pohyola, Toothless dame of dismal Northland, Badly managed is thy wedding, And thy feast is ill-conducted, Like the dogs hast thou invited; Thou hast baked the honey-biscuit, Wheaten loaves of greatest virtue, Brewed thy beer from hops and barley, Sent abroad thine invitations, Six the hamlets thou hast honored, Nine the villages invited By thy merry wedding-callers. Thou hast asked the poor and lowly, Asked the hosts of common people, Asked the blind, and deaf, and crippled, Asked a multitude of beggars, Toilers by the day, and hirelings; Asked the men of evil habits, Asked the maids with braided tresses, I alone was not invited. How could such a slight be given, Since I sent thee kegs of barley? Others sent thee grain in cupfuls, Brought it sparingly in dippers, While I sent thee fullest measure, Sent the half of all my garners, Of the richest of my harvest, Of the grain that I had gathered. Even now young Lemminkainen, Though a guest of name and station, Has no beer, no food, no welcome, Naught for him art thou preparing, Nothing cooking in thy kettles, Nothing brewing in thy cellars For the hero of the Islands, At the closing of his journey.”

Ilpotar, the ancient hostess, Gave this order to her servants: “Come, my pretty maiden-waiter, Servant-girl to me belonging, Lay some salmon to the broiling, Bring some beer to give the stranger!”

Small of stature was the maiden, Washer of the banquet-platters, Rinser of the dinner-ladles, Polisher of spoons of silver, And she laid some food in kettles, Only bones and heads of whiting, Turnip-stalks and withered cabbage, Crusts of bread and bits of biscuit. Then she brought some beer in pitchers, Brought of common drink the vilest, That the stranger, Lemminkainen, Might have drink, and meat in welcome, Thus to still his thirst and hunger. Then the maiden spake as follows: “Thou art sure a mighty hero, Here to drink the beer of Pohya, Here to empty all our vessels!”

Then the minstrel, Lemminkainen, Closely handled all the pitchers, Looking to the very bottoms; There beheld he writhing serpents, In the centre adders swimming, On the borders worms and lizards. Then the hero, Lemminkainen, Filled with anger, spake as follows: “Get ye hence, ye things of evil, Get ye hence to Tuonela, With the bearer of these pitchers, With the maid that brought ye hither, Ere the evening moon has risen, Ere the day-star seeks the ocean! O thou wretched beer of barley, Thou hast met with great dishonor, Into disrepute hast fallen, But I’ll drink thee, notwithstanding, And the rubbish cast far from me.”

Then the hero to his pockets Thrust his first and unnamed finger, Searching in his pouch of leather; Quick withdraws a hook for fishing, Drops it to the pitcher’s bottom, Through the worthless beer of barley; On his fish-book hang the serpents, Catches many hissing adders, Catches frogs in magic numbers, Catches blackened worms in thousands, Casts them to the floor before him, Quickly draws his heavy broad sword, And decapitates the serpents.

Now he drinks the beer remaining, When the wizard speaks as follows: “As a guest am I unwelcome, Since no beer to me is given That is worthy of a hero; Neither has a ram been butchered, Nor a fattened calf been slaughtered, Worthy food for Lemminkainen.”

Then the landlord of Pohyola Answered thus the Island-minstrel: “Wherefore hast thou journeyed hither, Who has asked thee for thy presence?” Spake in answer Lemminkainen: “Happy is the guest invited, Happier when not expected; Listen, son of Pohylander, Host of Sariola, listen: Give me beer for ready payment, Give me worthy drink for money!”

Then the landlord of Pohyola, In bad humor, full of anger, Conjured in the earth a lakelet, At the feet of Kaukomieli, Thus addressed the Island-hero: “Quench thy thirst from yonder lakelet, There, the beer that thou deservest!”

Little heeding, Lemminkainen To this insolence made answer: “I am neither bear nor roebuck, That should drink this filthy water, Drink the water of this lakelet.”

Ahti then began to conjure, Conjured he a bull before him, Bull with horns of gold and silver, And the bull drank from the lakelet, Drank he from the pool in pleasure. Then the landlord of Pohyola There a savage wolf created, Set him on the floor before him To destroy the bull of magic. Lemminkainen, full of courage, Conjured up a snow-white rabbit, Set him on the floor before him To attract the wolf’s attention. Then the landlord of Pohyola Conjured there a dog of Lempo, Set him on the floor before him To destroy the magic rabbit. Lemminkainen, full of mischief, Conjured on the roof a squirrel, That by jumping on the rafters He might catch the dog’s attention. But the master of the Northland Conjured there a golden marten, And he drove the magic squirrel From his seat upon the rafters. Lemminkainen, full of mischief, Made a fox of scarlet color, And it ate the golden marten. Then the master of Pohyola Conjured there a hen to flutter Near the fox of scarlet color. Lemminkainen, full of mischief, Thereupon a hawk created, That with beak and crooked talons He might tear the hen to pieces.

Spake the landlord of Pohyola, These the words the tall man uttered: “Never will this feast be bettered Till the guests are less in number; I must do my work as landlord, Get thee hence, thou evil stranger, Cease thy conjurings of evil, Leave this banquet of my people, Haste away, thou wicked wizard, To thine Island-home and people!” Spake the reckless Lemminkainen: “Thus no hero will be driven, Not a son of any courage Will be frightened by thy presence, Will be driven from thy banquet.”

Then the landlord of Pohyola Snatched his broadsword from the rafters, Drew it rashly from the scabbard, Thus addressing Lemminkainen: “Ahti, Islander of evil, Thou the handsome Kaukomieli, Let us measure then our broadswords, Let our skill be fully tested; Surely is my broadsword better Than the blade within thy scabbard.” Spake the hero, Lemminkainen: “That my blade is good and trusty, Has been proved on heads of heroes, Has on many bones been tested; Be that as it may, my fellow, Since thine order is commanding, Let our swords be fully tested, Let us see whose blade is better. Long ago my hero-father Tested well this sword in battle, Never failing in a conflict. Should his son be found less worthy?”

Then he grasped his mighty broadsword, Drew the fire-blade from the scabbard Hanging from his belt of copper. Standing on their hilts their broadswords, Carefully their blades were measured, Found the sword of Northland’s master Longer than the sword of Ahti By the half-link of a finger. Spake the reckless Lemminkainen. “Since thou hast the longer broadsword, Thou shalt make the first advances, I am ready for thy weapon.”

Thereupon Pohyola’s landlord With the wondrous strength of anger, Tried in vain to slay the hero, Strike the crown of Lemminkainen; Chipped the splinters from the rafters, Cut the ceiling into fragments, Could not touch the Island-hero.

Thereupon brave Kaukomieli, Thus addressed Pohyola’s master: “Have the rafters thee offended? What the crimes they have committed, Since thou hewest them in pieces? Listen now, thou host of Northland, Reckless landlord of Pohyola, Little room there is for swordsmen In these chambers filled with women; We shall stain these painted rafters, Stain with blood these floors and ceilings; Let us go without the mansion, In the field is room for combat, On the plain is space sufficient; Blood looks fairer in the court-yard, Better in the open spaces, Let it dye the snow-fields scarlet.”

To the yard the heroes hasten, There they find a monstrous ox-skin, Spread it on the field of battle; On the ox-skin stand the swordsmen. Spake the hero, Lemminkainen: “Listen well, thou host of Northland, Though thy broadsword is the longer, Though thy blade is full of horror, Thou shalt have the first advantage; Use with skill thy boasted broadsword Ere the final bout is given, Ere thy head be chopped in pieces; Strike with skill, or thou wilt perish, Strike, and do thy best for Northland.”

Thereupon Pohyola’s landlord Raised on high his blade of battle, Struck a heavy blow in anger, Struck a second, then a third time, But he could not touch his rival, Could not draw a single blood-drop From the veins of Lemminkainen, Skillful Islander and hero. Spake the handsome Kaukomieli: “Let me try my skill at fencing, Let me swing my father’s broadsword, Let my honored blade be tested!” But the landlord of Pohyola, Does not heed the words of Ahti, Strikes in fury, strikes unceasing, Ever aiming, ever missing. When the skillful Lemminkainen Swings his mighty blade of magic, Fire disports along his weapon, Flashes from his sword of honor, Glistens from the hero’s broadsword, Balls of fire disporting, dancing, On the blade of mighty Ahti, Overflow upon the shoulders Of the landlord of Pohyola. Spake the hero, Lemminkainen: “O thou son of Sariola, See! indeed thy neck is glowing Like the dawning of the morning, Like the rising Sun in ocean!”

Quickly turned Pohyola’s landlord, Thoughtless host of darksome Northland, To behold the fiery splendor Playing on his neck and shoulders. Quick as lightning, Lemminkainen, With his father’s blade of battle, With a single blow of broadsword, With united skill and power, Lopped the head of Pohya’s master; As one cleaves the stalks of turnips, As the ear falls from the corn-stalk, As one strikes the fins from salmon, Thus the head rolled from the shoulders Of the landlord of Pohyola, Like a ball it rolled and circled.

In the yard were pickets standing, Hundreds were the sharpened pillars, And a head on every picket, Only one was left un-headed. Quick the victor, Lemminkainen, Took the head of Pohya’s landlord, Spiked it on the empty picket.

Then the Islander, rejoicing, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli, Quick returning to the chambers, Gave this order to the hostess: “Evil maiden, bring me water, Wherewithal to cleanse my fingers From the blood of Northland’s master, Wicked host of Sariola.”

Ilpotar, the Northland hostess, Fired with anger, threatened vengeance, Conjured men with heavy broadswords, Heroes clad in copper-armor, Hundred warriors with their javelins, And a thousand bearing cross-bows, To destroy the Island-hero, For the death of Lemminkainen. Kaukomieli soon discovered That the time had come for leaving, That his presence was unwelcome At the feasting of Pohyola, At the banquet of her people.

RUNE XXVIII. THE MOTHER’S COUNSEL.

Ahti, hero of the Islands, Wild magician, Lemminkainen, Also known as Kaukomieli, Hastened from the great carousal, From the banquet-halls of Louhi, From the ever-darksome Northland, From the dismal Sariola. Stormful strode he from the mansion, Hastened like the smoke of battle, From the court-yard of Pohyola, Left his crimes and misdemeanors In the halls of ancient Louhi. Then he looked in all directions, Seeking for his tethered courser, Anxious looked in field and stable, But he did not find his racer; Found a black thing in the fallow, Proved to be a clump of willows. Who will well advise the hero, Who will give him wise directions, Guide the wizard out of trouble, Give his hero-locks protection, Keep his magic head from danger From the warriors of Northland?

Noise is heard within the village, And a din from other homesteads, From the battle-hosts of Louhi, Streaming from the doors and window, Of the homesteads of Pohyola.

Thereupon young Lemminkainen, Handsome Islander and hero, Changing both his form and features, Clad himself in other raiment, Changing to another body, Quick became a mighty eagle, Soared aloft on wings of magic, Tried to fly to highest heaven, But the moonlight burned his temples, And the sunshine singed his feathers.

Then entreating, Lemminkainen, Island-hero, turned to Ukko, This the prayer that Ahti uttered: “Ukko, God of love and mercy, Thou the Wisdom of the heavens, Wise Director of the lightning, Thou the Author of the thunder, Thou the Guide of all the cloudlets, Give to me thy cloak of vapor, Throw a silver cloud around me, That I may in its protection Hasten to my native country, To my mother’s Island-dwelling, Fly to her that waits my coming, With a mother’s grave forebodings.”

Farther, farther, Lemminkainen Flew and soared on eagle-pinions, Looked about him, backwards, forwards, Spied a gray-hawk soaring near him, In his eyes the fire of splendor, Like the eyes of Pohyalanders, Like the eyes of Pohya’s spearmen, And the gray-hawk thus addressed him: “Ho! there! hero, Lemminkainen, Art thou thinking of our combat With the hero-heads of Northland?”

Thus the Islander made answer, These the words of Kaukomieli: “O thou gray-hawk, bird of beauty, Fly direct to Sariola, Fly as fast as wings can bear thee; When thou hast arrived in safety, On the plains of darksome Northland, Tell the archers and the spearmen, They will never catch the eagle, In his journey from Pohyola, To his Island-home and fortress.”

Then the Ahti-eagle hastened Straightway to his mother’s cottage, In his face the look of trouble, In his heart the pangs of sorrow. Ahti’s mother ran to meet him, When she spied him in the pathway, Walking toward her island-dwelling; These the words the mother uttered: “Of my sons thou art the bravest, Art the strongest of my children; Wherefore then comes thine annoyance, On returning from Pohyola? Wert thou worsted at the banquet, At the feast and great carousal? At thy cups, if thou wert injured, Thou shalt here have better treatment, Thou shalt have the cup thy father Brought me from the hero-castle.” Spake the reckless Lemminkainen: “Worthy mother, thou that nursed me, If I had been maimed at drinking, I the landlord would have worsted, Would have slain a thousand heroes, Would have taught them useful lessons.” Lemminkainen’s mother answered: “Wherefore then art thou indignant, Didst thou meet disgrace and insult, Did they rob thee of thy courser? Buy thou then a better courser With the riches of thy mother, With thy father’s horded treasures.” Spake the hero, Lemminkainen: “Faithful mother of my being, If my steed had been insulted, If for him my heart was injured, I the landlord would have punished, Would have punished all the horsemen, All of Pohya’s strongest riders.” Lemminkainen’s mother answered: “Tell me then thy dire misfortune, What has happened to my hero, On his journey to Pohyola? Have the Northland maidens scorned thee, Have the women ridiculed thee? If the maidens scorned thy presence, If the women gave derision, There are others thou canst laugh at, Thou canst scorn a thousand women.” Said the reckless Lemminkainen: “Honored mother, fond and faithful, If the Northland dames had scorned me Or the maidens laughed derision, I the maidens would have punished, Would have scorned a thousand women.” Lemminkainen’s mother answered: “Wherefore then are thou indignant, Thus annoyed, and heavy-hearted, On returning from Pohyola? Was thy feasting out of season, Was the banquet-beer unworthy, Were thy dreams of evil import When asleep in darksome Northland?” This is Lemminkainen’s answer: “Aged women may remember What they dream on beds of trouble; I have seen some wondrous visions, Since I left my Island-cottage. My beloved, helpful mother, Fill my bag with good provisions, Flour and salt in great abundance, Farther must thy hero wander, He must leave his home behind him, Leave his pleasant Island-dwelling, Journey from this home of ages; Men are sharpening their broadswords, Sharpening their spears and lances, For the death of Lemminkainen.”

Then again the mother questioned, Hurriedly she asked the reason: “Why the men their swords were whetting, Why their spears are being sharpened.”

Spake the reckless Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli: “Therefore do they whet their broadswords, Therefore sharpen they their lances: It is for thy son’s destruction, At his heart are aimed their lances. In the court-yard of Pohyola, There arose a great contention, Fierce the battle waged against me; But I slew the Northland hero, Killed the host of Sariola; Quick to arms rose Louhi’s people, All the spears and swords of Northland Were directed at thy hero; All of Pohya turned against me, Turned against a single foeman.” This the answer of the mother: “I had told thee this beforehand, I had warned thee of this danger, And forbidden thee to journey To the hostile fields of Northland. Here my hero could have lingered, Passed his life in full contentment, Lived forever with his mother, With his mother for protection, In the court-yard with his kindred; Here no war would have arisen, No contention would have followed. Whither wilt thou go, my hero, Whither will my loved one hasten, To escape thy fierce pursuers, To escape from thy misdoings, From thy sins to hide in safety, From thy crimes and misdemeanors, That thy head be not endangered, That thy body be not mangled, That thy locks be not outrooted?” Spake the reckless Lemminkainen: “Know I not a spot befitting, Do not know a place of safety, Where to hide from my pursuers, That will give me sure protection From the crimes by me committed. Helpful mother of my being, Where to flee wilt thou advise me?” This the answer of the mother: “I do not know where I can send thee; Be a pine-tree on the mountain, Or a juniper in lowlands? Then misfortune may befall thee; Often is the mountain pine-tree Cut in splints for candle-lighters; And the juniper is often Peeled for fence-posts for the pastures. Go a birch-tree to the valleys, Or an elm-tree to the glenwood? Even then may trouble find thee, Misery may overtake thee; Often is the lowland birch-tree Cut to pieces in the ware-house; Often is the elm-wood forest Cleared away for other plantings. Be a berry on the highlands, Cranberry upon the heather, Strawberry upon the mountains, Blackberry along the fences? Even there will trouble find thee, There misfortune overtake thee, For the berry-maids would pluck thee, Silver-tinselled girls would get thee. Be a pike then in the ocean, Or a troutlet in the rivers? Then would trouble overtake thee, Would become thy life-companion; Then the fisherman would catch thee, Catch thee in his net of flax-thread, Catch thee with his cruel fish-hook. Be a wolf then in the forest, Or a black-bear in the thickets? Even then would trouble find thee, And disaster cross thy pathway; Sable hunters of the Northland Have their spears and cross-bows ready To destroy the wolf and black-bear.” Spake the reckless Lemminkainen: “Know I well the worst of places, Know where Death will surely follow, Where misfortune’s eye would find me; Since thou gavest me existence, Gavest nourishment in childhood, Whither shall I flee for safety, Whither hide from death and danger? In my view is fell destruction, Dire misfortune hovers o’er me; On the morrow come the spearmen, Countless warriors from Pohya, Ahti’s head their satisfaction.” This the answer of the mother: “I can name a goodly refuge, Name a land of small dimensions, Name a distant ocean-island, Where my son may live in safety. Thither archers never wander, There thy head cannot be severed; But an oath as strong as heaven, Thou must swear before thy mother; Thou wilt not for sixty summers Join in war or deadly combat, Even though thou wishest silver, Wishest gold and silver treasures.” Spake the grateful Lemminkainen: “I will swear an oath of honor, That I’ll not in sixty summers Draw my sword in the arena, Test the warrior in battle; I have wounds upon my shoulders, On my breast two scars of broadsword, Of my former battles, relics, Relics of my last encounters, On the battle-fields of Northland, In the wars with men and heroes.” Lemminkainen’s mother answered: “Go thou, take thy father’s vessel, Go and hide thyself in safety, Travel far across nine oceans; In the tenth, sail to the centre, To the island, forest-covered, To the cliffs above the waters, Where thy father went before thee, Where he hid from his pursuers, In the times of summer conquests, In the darksome days of battle; Good the isle for thee to dwell in, Goodly place to live and linger; Hide one year, and then a second, In the third return in safety To thy mother’s island dwelling, To thy father’s ancient mansion, To my hero’s place of resting.”

RUNE XXIX. THE ISLE OF REFUGE.

Lemminkainen, full of joyance, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli, Took provisions in abundance, Fish and butter, bread and bacon, Hastened to the Isle of Refuge, Sailed away across the oceans, Spake these measures on departing: “Fare thee well, mine Island-dwelling, I must sail to other borders, To an island more protective, Till the second summer passes; Let the serpents keep the island, Lynxes rest within the glen-wood, Let the blue-moose roam the mountains, Let the wild-geese eat the barley. Fare thee well, my helpful mother! When the warriors of the Northland, From the dismal Sariola, Come with swords, and spears, and cross-bows, Asking for my head in vengeance, Say that I have long departed, Left my mother’s Island-dwelling, When the barley had been garnered.”

Then he launched his boat of copper, Threw the vessel to the waters, From the iron-banded rollers, From the cylinders of oak-wood, On the masts the sails he hoisted, Spread the magic sails of linen, In the stern the hero settled And prepared to sail his vessel, One hand resting on the rudder.

Then the sailor spake as follows, These the words of Lemminkainen: “Blow, ye winds, and drive me onward, Blow ye steady, winds of heaven, Toward the island in the ocean, That my bark may fly in safety To my father’s place of refuge, To the far and nameless island!”

Soon the winds arose as bidden, Rocked the vessel o’er the billows, O’er the blue-back of the waters, O’er the vast expanse of ocean; Blew two months and blew unceasing, Blew a third month toward the island, Toward his father’s Isle of Refuge.

Sat some maidens on the seaside, On the sandy beach of ocean, Turned about in all directions, Looking out upon the billows; One was waiting for her brother, And a second for her father, And a third one, anxious, waited For the coming of her suitor; There they spied young Lemminkainen, There perceived the hero’s vessel Sailing o’er the bounding billows; It was like a hanging cloudlet, Hanging twixt the earth and heaven.

Thus the island-maidens wondered, Thus they spake to one another: “What this stranger on the ocean, What is this upon the waters? Art thou one of our sea-vessels? Wert thou builded on this island? Sail thou straightway to the harbor, To the island-point of landing That thy tribe may be discovered.”

Onward did the waves propel it, Rocked his vessel o’er the billows, Drove it to the magic island, Safely landed Lemminkainen On the sandy shore and harbor.

Spake he thus when he had landed, These the words that Ahti uttered: “Is there room upon this island, Is there space within this harbor, Where my bark may lie at anchor, Where the sun may dry my vessel?”

This the answer of the virgins, Dwellers on the Isle of Refuge: “There is room within this harbor, On this island, space abundant, Where thy bark may lie at anchor, Where the sun may dry thy vessel; Lying ready are the rollers, Cylinders adorned with copper; If thou hadst a hundred vessels, Shouldst thou come with boats a thousand, We would give them room in welcome.”