Part 24

Thereupon wild Lemminkainen Rolled his vessel in the harbor, On the cylinders of copper, Spake these words when he had ended: “Is there room upon this island, Or a spot within these forests, Where a hero may be hidden From the coming din of battle, From the play of spears and arrows?” Thus replied the Island-maidens: “There are places on this island, On these plains a spot befitting, Where to hide thyself in safety, Hero-son of little valor. Here are many, many castles, Many courts upon this island; Though there come a thousand heroes, Though a thousand spearmen follow, Thou canst hide thyself in safety.” Spake the hero, Lemminkainen: “Is there room upon this island, Where the birch-tree grows abundant, Where this son may fell the forest, And may cultivate the fallow?” Answered thus the Island-maidens: “There is not a spot befitting, Not a place upon the island, Where to rest thy wearied members, Not the smallest patch of birch-wood, Thou canst bring to cultivation. All our fields have been divided, All these woods have been apportioned, Fields and forests have their owners.”

Lemminkainen asked this question, These the words of Kaukomieli: “Is there room upon this island, Worthy spot in field or forest, Where to sing my songs of magic, Chant my gathered store of wisdom, Sing mine ancient songs and legends?” Answered thus the Island-maidens: “There is room upon this island, Worthy place in these dominions, Thou canst sing thy garnered wisdom, Thou canst chant thine ancient legends, Legends of the times primeval, In the forest, in the castle, On the island-plains and pastures.”

Then began the reckless minstrel To intone his wizard-sayings; Sang he alders to the waysides, Sang the oaks upon the mountains, On the oak-trees sang he branches, On each branch he sang an acorn, On the acorns, golden rollers, On each roller, sang a cuckoo; Then began the cuckoos, calling, Gold from every throat came streaming, Copper fell from every feather, And each wing emitted silver, Filled the isle with precious metals. Sang again young Lemminkainen, Conjured on, and sang, and chanted, Sang to precious stones the sea-sands, Sang the stones to pearls resplendent, Robed the groves in iridescence, Sang the island full of flowers, Many-colored as the rainbow. Sang again the magic minstrel, In the court a well he conjured, On the well a golden cover, On the lid a silver dipper, That the boys might drink the water, That the maids might lave their eyelids. On the plains he conjured lakelets, Sang the duck upon the waters, Golden-cheeked and silver-headed, Sang the feet from shining copper; And the Island-maidens wondered, Stood entranced at Ahti’s wisdom, At the songs of Lemminkainen, At the hero’s magic power.

Spake the singer, Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli: “I would sing a wondrous legend, Sing in miracles of sweetness, If within some hall or chamber, I were seated at the table. If I sing not in the castle, In some spot by walls surrounded, Then I sing my songs to zephyrs, Fling them to the fields and forests.” Answered thus the Island-maidens: “On this isle are castle-chambers, Halls for use of magic singers, Courts complete for chanting legends, Where thy singing will be welcome, Where thy songs will not be scattered To the forests of the island, Nor thy wisdom lost in ether.”

Straightway Lemminkainen journeyed With the maidens to the castle; There he sang and conjured pitchers On the borders of the tables, Sang and conjured golden goblets Foaming with the beer of barley; Sang he many well-filled vessels, Bowls of honey-drink abundant, Sweetest butter, toothsome biscuit, Bacon, fish, and veal, and venison, All the dainties of the Northland, Wherewithal to still his hunger. But the proud-heart, Lemminkainen, Was not ready for the banquet, Did not yet begin his feasting, Waited for a knife of silver, For a knife of golden handle; Quick he sang the precious metals, Sang a blade from purest silver, To the blade a golden handle, Straightway then began his feasting, Quenched his thirst and stilled his hunger, Charmed the maidens on the island.

Then the minstrel, Lemminkainen, Roamed throughout the island-hamlets, To the joy of all the virgins, All the maids of braided tresses; Wheresoe’er he turned his footsteps, There appeared a maid to greet him; When his hand was kindly offered, There his hand was kindly taken; When he wandered out at evening, Even in the darksome places, There the maidens bade him welcome; There was not an island-village Where there were not seven castles, In each castle seven daughters, And the daughters stood in waiting, Gave the hero joyful greetings, Only one of all the maidens Whom he did not greet with pleasure.

Thus the merry Lemminkainen Spent three summers in the ocean, Spent a merry time in refuge, In the hamlets on the island, To the pleasure of the maidens, To the joy of all the daughters; Only one was left neglected, She a poor and graceless spinster, On the isle’s remotest border, In the smallest of the hamlets.

Then he thought about his journey O’er the ocean to his mother, To the cottage of his father. There appeared the slighted spinster, To the Northland son departing, Spake these words to Lemminkainen: “O, thou handsome Kaukomieli, Wisdom-bard, and magic singer, Since this maiden thou hast slighted, May the winds destroy thy vessel, Dash thy bark to countless fragments On the ocean-rocks and ledges!”

Lemminkainen’s thoughts were homeward, Did not heed the maiden’s murmurs, Did not rise before the dawning Of the morning on the island, To the pleasure of the maiden Of the much-neglected hamlet. Finally at close of evening, He resolved to leave the island, He resolved to waken early, Long before the dawn of morning; Long before the time appointed, He arose that he might wander Through the hamlets of the island, Bid adieu to all the maidens, On the morn of his departure. As he wandered hither, thither, Walking through the village path-ways To the last of all the hamlets; Saw he none of all the castles, Where three dwellings were not standing; Saw he none of all the dwellings Where three heroes were not watching; Saw he none of all the heroes, Who was not engaged in grinding Swords, and spears, and battle-axes, For the death of Lemminkainen. And these words the hero uttered: “Now alas! the Sun arises From his couch within the ocean, On the frailest of the heroes, On the saddest child of Northland; On my neck the cloak of Lempo Might protect me from all evil, Though a hundred foes assail me, Though a thousand archers follow.”

Then he left the maids ungreeted, Left his longing for the daughters Of the nameless Isle of Refuge, With his farewell-words unspoken, Hastened toward the island-harbor, Toward his magic bark at anchor; But he found it burned to ashes, Sweet revenge had fired his vessel, Lighted by the slighted spinster. Then he saw the dawn of evil, Saw misfortune hanging over, Saw destruction round about him. Straightway he began rebuilding Him a magic sailing-vessel, New and wondrous, full of beauty; But the hero needed timber, Boards, and planks, and beams, and braces, Found the smallest bit of lumber, Found of boards but seven fragments, Of a spool he found three pieces, Found six pieces of the distaff; With these fragments builds his vessel, Builds a ship of magic virtue, Builds the bark with secret knowledge, Through the will of the magician; Strikes one blow, and builds the first part, Strikes a second, builds the centre, Strikes a third with wondrous power, And the vessel is completed.

Thereupon the ship he launches, Sings the vessel to the ocean, And these words the hero utters: “Like a bubble swim these waters, Like a flower ride the billows; Loan me of thy magic feathers, Three, O eagle, four, O raven, For protection to my vessel, Lest it flounder in the ocean!”

Now the sailor, Lemminkainen, Seats himself upon the bottom Of the vessel he has builded, Hastens on his journey homeward, Head depressed and evil-humored, Cap awry upon his forehead, Mind dejected, heavy-hearted, That he could not dwell forever In the castles of the daughters Of the nameless Isle of Refuge.

Spake the minstrel, Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli: “Leave I must this merry island, Leave her many joys and pleasures, Leave her maids with braided tresses, Leave her dances and her daughters, To the joys of other heroes; But I take this comfort with me: All the maidens on the island, Save the spinster who was slighted, Will bemoan my loss for ages, Will regret my quick departure; They will miss me at the dances, In the halls of mirth and joyance, In the homes of merry maidens, On my father’s Isle of Refuge.”

Wept the maidens on the island, Long lamenting, loudly calling To the hero sailing homeward: “Whither goest, Lemminkainen, Why depart, thou best of heroes? Dost thou leave from inattention, Is there here a dearth of maidens, Have our greetings been unworthy?”

Sang the magic Lemminkainen To the maids as he was sailing, This in answer to their calling: “Leaving not for want of pleasure, Do not go from dearth of women Beautiful the island-maidens, Countless as the sands their virtues. This the reason of my going, I am longing for my home-land, Longing for my mother’s cabins, For the strawberries of Northland, For the raspberries of Kalew, For the maidens of my childhood, For the children of my mother.”

Then the merry Lemminkainen Bade farewell to all the island; Winds arose and drove his vessel On the blue-back of the ocean, O’er the far-extending waters, Toward the island of his mother. On the shore were grouped the daughters Of the magic Isle of Refuge, On the rocks sat the forsaken, Weeping stood the island-maidens, Golden daughters, loud-lamenting. Weep the maidens of the island While the sail-yards greet their vision, While the copper-beltings glisten; Do not weep to lose the sail-yards, Nor to lose the copper-beltings; Weep they for the loss of Ahti, For the fleeing Kaukomieli Guiding the departing vessel. Also weeps young Lemminkainen, Sorely weeps, and loud-lamenting, Weeps while he can see the island, While the island hill-tops glisten; Does not mourn the island-mountains, Weeps he only for the maidens, Left upon the Isle of Refuge.

Thereupon sailed Kaukomieli On the blue-back of the ocean; Sailed one day, and then a second, But, alas! upon the third day, There arose a mighty storm-wind, And the sky was black with fury. Blew the black winds from the north-west, From the south-east came the whirlwind, Tore away the ship’s forecastle, Tore away the vessel’s rudder, Dashed the wooden hull to pieces. Thereupon wild Lemminkainen Headlong fell upon the waters; With his head he did the steering, With his hands and feet, the rowing; Swam whole days and nights unceasing, Swam with hope and strength united, Till at last appeared a cloudlet, Growing cloudlet to the westward, Changing to a promontory, Into land within the ocean.

Swiftly to the shore swam Ahti, Hastened to a magic castle, Found therein a hostess baking, And her daughters kneading barley, And these words the hero uttered: “O, thou hostess, filled with kindness, Couldst thou know my pangs of hunger, Couldst thou guess my name and station, Thou wouldst hasten to the storehouse, Bring me beer and foaming liquor, Bring the best of thy provisions, Bring me fish, and veal, and bacon, Butter, bread, and honeyed biscuits, Set for me a wholesome dinner, Wherewithal to still my hunger, Quench the thirst of Lemminkainen. Days and nights have I been swimming, Buffeting the waves of ocean, Seemed as if the wind protected, And the billows gave me shelter.”

Then the hostess, filled with kindness, Hastened to the mountain storehouse, Cut some butter, veal, and bacon, Bread, and fish, and honeyed biscuit, Brought the best of her provisions, Brought the mead and beer of barley, Set for him a toothsome dinner, Wherewithal to still his hunger, Quench the thirst of Lemminkainen.

When the hero’s feast had ended, Straightway was a magic vessel Given by the kindly hostess To the weary Kaukomieli, Bark of beauty, new and hardy, Wherewithal to aid the stranger In his journey to his home-land, To the cottage of his mother.

Quickly sailed wild Lemminkainen On the blue-back of the ocean; Sailed he days and nights unceasing, Till at last he reached the borders Of his own loved home and country; There beheld he scenes familiar, Saw the islands, capes, and rivers, Saw his former shipping-stations, Saw he many ancient landmarks, Saw the mountains with their fir-trees, Saw the pine-trees on the hill-tops, Saw the willows in the lowlands; Did not see his father’s cottage, Nor the dwellings of his mother. Where a mansion once had risen, There the alder-trees were growing, Shrubs were growing on the homestead, Junipers within the court-yard. Spake the reckless Lemminkainen: “In this glen I played and wandered, On these stones I rocked for ages, On this lawn I rolled and tumbled, Frolicked on these woodland-borders, When a child of little stature. Where then is my mother’s dwelling, Where the castles of my father? Fire, I fear, has found the hamlet, And the winds dispersed the ashes.”

Then he fell to bitter weeping, Wept one day and then a second, Wept the third day without ceasing; Did not mourn the ancient homestead, Nor the dwellings of his father; Wept he for his darling mother, Wept he for the dear departed, For the loved ones of the island.

Then he saw the bird of heaven, Saw an eagle flying near him, And he asked the bird this question: “Mighty eagle, bird majestic, Grant to me the information, Where my mother may have wandered, Whither I may go and find her!”

But the eagle knew but little, Only knew that Ahti’s people Long ago together perished; And the raven also answered That his people had been scattered By the swords, and spears, and arrows, Of his enemies from Pohya. Spake the hero, Lemminkainen: “Faithful mother, dear departed, Thou who nursed me in my childhood, Art thou dead and turned to ashes, Didst thou perish for my follies, O’er thy head are willows weeping, Junipers above thy body, Alders watching o’er thy slumbers? This my punishment for evil, This the recompense of folly! Fool was I, a son unworthy, That I measured swords in Northland With the landlord of Pohyola. To my tribe came fell destruction, And the death of my dear mother, Through my crimes and misdemeanors.”

Then the minstrel looked about him, Anxious, looked in all directions, And beheld some gentle foot-prints, Saw a pathway lightly trodden Where the heather had been beaten. Quick as thought the path he followed, Through the meadows, through the brambles, O’er the hills, and through the valleys, To a forest, vast and cheerless; Travelled far and travelled farther, Still a greater distance travelled, To a dense and hidden glenwood, In the middle of the island; Found therein a sheltered cabin, Found a small and darksome dwelling Built between the rocky ledges, In the midst of triple pine-trees; And within he spied his mother, Found his gray-haired mother weeping.

Lemminkainen loud rejoices, Cries in tones of joyful greetings, These the words that Ahti utters: “Faithful mother, well-beloved, Thou that gavest me existence, Happy I, that thou art living, That thou hast not yet departed To the kingdom of Tuoni, To the islands of the blessed, I had thought that thou hadst perished, Hadst been murdered by my foemen, Hadst been slain with bows and arrows. Heavy are mine eyes from weeping, And my cheeks are white with sorrow, Since I thought my mother slaughtered For the sins I had committed!” Lemminkainen’s mother answered: “Long, indeed, hast thou been absent, Long, my son, hast thou been living In thy father’s Isle of Refuge, Roaming on the secret island, Living at the doors of strangers, Living in a nameless country, Refuge from the Northland foemen.” Spake the hero, Lemminkainen: “Charming is that spot for living, Beautiful the magic island, Rainbow-colored was the forest, Blue the glimmer of the meadows, Silvered were the pine-tree branches, Golden were the heather-blossoms; All the woodlands dripped with honey, Eggs in every rock and crevice, Honey flowed from birch and sorb-tree, Milk in streams from fir and aspen, Beer-foam dripping from the willows, Charming there to live and linger, All their edibles delicious. This their only source of trouble: Great the fear for all the maidens, All the heroes filled with envy, Feared the coming of the stranger; Thought that all the island-maidens, Thought that all the wives and daughters, All the good, and all the evil, Gave thy son too much attention; Thought the stranger, Lemminkainen, Saw the Island-maids too often; Yet the virgins I avoided, Shunned the good and shunned the evil, Shunned the host of charming daughters, As the black-wolf shuns the sheep-fold, As the hawk neglects the chickens.”

RUNE XXX. THE FROST-FIEND.

Lemminkainen, reckless minstrel, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli, Hastens as the dawn is breaking, At the dawning of the morning;, To the resting-place of vessels, To the harbor of the island, Finds the vessels sorely weeping, Hears the wailing of the rigging, And the ships intone this chorus: “Must we wretched lie forever In the harbor of this island, Here to dry and fall in pieces? Ahti wars no more in Northland, Wars no more for sixty summers, Even should he thirst for silver, Should he wish the gold of battle.”

Lemminkainen struck his vessels With his gloves adorned with copper, And addressed the ships as follows: “Mourn no more, my ships of fir-wood, Strong and hardy is your rigging, To the wars ye soon may hasten, Hasten to the seas of battle; Warriors may swarm your cabins Ere to-morrow’s morn has risen.”

Then the reckless Lemminkainen Hastened to his aged mother, Spake to her the words that follow: “Weep no longer, faithful mother, Do not sorrow for thy hero, Should he leave for scenes of battle, For the hostile fields of Pohya; Sweet revenge has fired my spirit, And my soul is well determined, To avenge the shameful insult That the warriors of Northland Gave to thee, defenseless woman.”

To restrain him seeks his mother, Warns her son again of danger: “Do not go, my son beloved, To the wars in Sariola; There the jaws of Death await thee, Fell destruction lies before thee!”

Lemminkainen, little heeding, Still determined, speaks as follows: “Where may I secure a swordsman, Worthy of my race of heroes, To assist me in the combat? Often I have heard of Tiera, Heard of Kura of the islands, This one I will take to help me, Magic hero of the broadsword; He will aid me in the combat, Will protect me from destruction.”

Then he wandered to the islands, On the way to Tiera’s hamlet, These the words that Ahti utters As he nears the ancient dwellings: “Dearest friend, my noble Tiera, My beloved hero-brother, Dost thou other times remember, When we fought and bled together, On the battle-fields of Northland? There was not an island-village Where there were not seven mansions, In each mansion seven heroes, And not one of all these foemen Whom we did not slay with broadswords, Victims of our skill and valor.”

Near the window sat the father Whittling out a javelin-handle; Near the threshold sat the mother Skimming cream and making butter; Near the portal stood the brother Working on a sledge of birch-wood; Near the bridge-pass were the sisters Washing out their varied garments.

Spake the father from the window, From the threshold spake the mother, From the portals spake the brother, And the sisters from the bridge-pass: “Tiera has no time for combat, And his broadsword cannot battle; Tiera is but late a bridegroom, Still unveiled his bride awaits him.”

Near the hearth was Tiera lying, Lying by the fire was Kura, Hastily one foot was shoeing, While the other lay in waiting. From the hook he takes his girdle, Buckles it around his body, Takes a javelin from its resting, Not the largest, nor the smallest, Buckles on his mighty scabbard, Dons his heavy mail of copper; On each javelin pranced a charger, Wolves were howling from his helmet, On the rings the bears were growling. Tiera poised his mighty javelin, Launched the spear upon its errand; Hurled the shaft across the pasture, To the border of the forest, O’er the clay-fields of Pohyola, O’er the green and fragrant meadows, Through the distant hills of Northland. Then great Tiera touched his javelin To the mighty spear of Ahti, Pledged his aid to Lemminkainen, As his combatant and comrade. Thereupon wild Kaukomieli Pushed his boat upon the waters; Like the serpent through the heather, Like the creeping of the adder, Sails the boat away to Pohya, O’er the seas of Sariola.

Quick the wicked hostess, Louhi, Sends the black-frost of the heavens To the waters of Pohyola, O’er the far-extending sea-plains, Gave the black-frost these directions: “Much-loved Frost, my son and hero, Whom thy mother has instructed, Hasten whither I may send thee, Go wherever I command thee, Freeze the vessel of this hero, Lemminkainen’s bark of magic, On the broad back of the ocean, On the far-extending waters; Freeze the wizard in his vessel, Freeze to ice the wicked Ahti, That he never more may wander, Never waken while thou livest, Or at least till I shall free him, Wake him from his icy slumber!”

Frost, the son of wicked parents, Hero-son of evil manners, Hastens off to freeze the ocean, Goes to fasten down the flood-gates, Goes to still the ocean-currents. As he hastens on his journey, Takes the leaves from all the forest, Strips the meadows of their verdure, Robs the flowers of their colors. When his journey he had ended, Gained the border of the ocean, Gained the sea-shore curved and endless, On the first night of his visit, Freezes he the lakes and rivers, Freezes too the shore of ocean, Freezes not the ocean-billows, Does not check the ocean-currents. On the sea a finch is resting, Bird of song upon the waters, But his feet are not yet frozen, Neither is his head endangered. When the second night Frost lingered, He began to grow important, He became a fierce intruder, Fearless grew in his invasions, Freezes everything before him; Sends the fiercest cold of Northland, Turns to ice the boundless waters. Ever thicker, thicker, thicker, Grew the ice on sea and ocean, Ever deeper, deeper, deeper, Fell the snow on field and forest, Froze the hero’s ship of beauty, Cold and lifeless bark of Ahti; Sought to freeze wild Lemminkainen, Freeze him lifeless as his vessel, Asked the minstrel for his life-blood, For his ears, and feet, and fingers.

Then the hero, Lemminkainen, Angry grew and filled with magic, Hurled the black-frost to the fire-god, Threw him to the fiery furnace, Held him in his forge of iron, Then addressed the frost as follows: “Frost, thou evil son of Northland, Dire and only son of Winter, Let my members not be stiffened, Neither ears, nor feet, nor fingers, Neither let my head be frozen. Thou hast other things to feed on, Many other heads to stiffen; Leave in peace the flesh of heroes, Let this minstrel pass in safety, Freeze the swamps, and lakes, and rivers, Fens and forests, hills and valleys; Let the cold stones grow still colder, Freeze the willows in the waters, Let the aspens freeze and suffer, Let the bark peel from the birch-trees, Let the pines burst on the mountains, Let this hero pass in safety, Do not let his locks be stiffened.