Then Lemminkainen sang a song of triumph, and having paid to Tapio's wife, Mielikki, the gold and silver he had promised, he hastened off with the reindeer to Louhi's home. But when he gave the Hisi-deer to her, she said: 'I will give thee my fairest daughter if thou wilt catch and bridle for me the fiery Hisi-horse, that breathes smoke and fire from his mouth and nostrils.'

So Lemminkainen went off, taking with him a golden bridle to put on the horse. For three days he wandered without catching sight of the Hisi-horse, but on the third day he climbed to the top of a very high mountain, and from thence he spied the steed on the plain amongst the fir-trees, breathing smoke and flames from his mouth and nostrils and eyes.

When Lemminkainen saw him he prayed to great Ukko to send a shower of icy hail upon the fiery Hisi-steed, and presently a great shower of hail rained down, and every hailstone was larger than a man's head. After the hail was over, Lemminkainen came up to the fiery horse and coaxed him to let the golden bridle be slipped over his head. Then off they went like the wind, the horse obeying Lemminkainen perfectly, and in a very short time they arrived at Louhi's house. When he had given the Hisi-horse to Louhi, Lemminkainen asked again for the hand of her fairest daughter. But Louhi told him she would not give him her daughter until he had killed the swan that swam on Tuoni's river, which flows between the land of the living and the dead.

Then Lemminkainen started off fearlessly to seek the graceful swan of Tuoni, and journeyed on and on until at length he came to the coal-black river. There the old shepherd of Pohjola, Nasshut, was waiting for him, and, though blind, he heard Lemminkainen's footsteps, and sent a serpent from the death-river to meet him. The serpent stung Lemminkainen just over the heart, so that he fell down dead almost instantly, only having time to call upon his ancient mother to help him.

And Nasshut cast his body into the dismal river Tuoni, where it was washed down through the rapids to the Deathland, Tuonela. There the son of the ruler of the Deathland took the body, and cutting it into five portions, cast them back into the stream, saying: 'Swim there now, O Lemminkainen! float for ever in this river, so that thou mayst hunt the wild swan at thy leisure.'

And thus the handsome Lemminkainen died, and was cast into the river of Tuoni, that flows along the Deathland.



LEMMINKAINEN'S RESTORATION

Lemminkainen's mother began to grow uneasy at his long absence, and to fear that some trouble had befallen him. At last one day, as his wife, the fair Kyllikki, was in her room, she noticed that drops of blood had begun to flow from the bristles of Lemminkainen's hair-brush. Then she began to weep and mourn, and ran and told his mother, who came and saw the blood oozing from the brush, and cried out:

'Woe is me, for my son, my hero, is in some terrible distress; some awful misfortune has happened to him.' Saying this she hurried off, and went straight to Louhi's house. There she asked what had become of her son, but Louhi only replied that she did not know, that he had driven off long ago in a sledge she had given him, and perhaps the wolves or bears had eaten him.

'Thou art only telling falsehoods,' replied Lemminkainen's mother, 'for no bears or wolves can devour him; he would put them to sleep with his magic singing. Now, tell me truly, O Louhi, whither thou hast sent my son, or I will destroy all thy storehouses and even thy magic Sampo.'

And then Louhi said that she had given him a copper boat, and he had floated off on the river; perhaps he had perished in the rapids below. But Lemminkainen's mother answered: 'Thou art still speaking falsely. Tell me the truth this time, or I will send plague and death upon thee.'

Then Louhi answered the third time: 'I will tell thee the truth. I sent him to fetch me the Hisi-reindeer, and then after the fire-breathing horse, and last of all, after the swan that swims the death-stream, Tuoni, that he might gain the hand of my fairest daughter. He may have perished there, for he has not come back since to ask for my daughter's hand.'

No sooner had Louhi said this than the anxious mother hurried off to hunt for her son. Over hills and valleys, through marsh and forest, and over the wide waters she went, but looked for him in vain. Then she asked the Trees if they had seen him but they answered: 'We have more than enough to think of with our own griefs. We are cut down with cruel axes and burned to death, and no one pities us.'

So she wandered on and on, and finally she asked the Paths if they had seen her son pass by. But the Paths replied: 'Our own lives are too wretched to think of other people's sorrows. We are trodden under foot by beasts and men, and the heavy carts cut us in pieces.'

Next she asked the Moon, but the Moon replied: 'I have trouble enough of my own. I have to wander all alone in both summer and winter nights, and have no rest.'

Next she questioned the Sun, and he was kinder than the rest, and told her how her son had died in the gloomy river Tuoni.

Then she hastened to Ilmarinen, the wondrous smith, and bade him make a huge rake for her out of copper, with teeth a hundred fathoms long and the handle five hundred fathoms. Ilmarinen quickly forged a magic rake, and she hurried off with it to the gloomy river Tuoni, praying as she went: 'O Sun, whom Ukko hath created, shine for me now with magic power into the kingdom of death, into dark Manala, and lull all the evil spirits there to sleep.'

The Sun came and sat upon a birch-tree near the river of Tuoni, and shone upon the Deathland, Tuonela, until all the spirits fell asleep. Then he rose, and hovering over them, warmed them into a yet deeper slumber, and then hurried back to his place in the sky.

Meanwhile Lemminkainen's mother had raked a long time in the coal-black river, but could find nothing. Then she waded in deeper and deeper, until she could reach into the deepest caverns with her rake. First, she found his jacket, and then the rest of his clothing; and finally, the third time she swept her rake along, it brought up Lemminkainen's body, but the hands and arms and head were still missing. Still she went on with her search, and at length all the pieces were gathered together.

When she had laid them beside each other, in their proper positions, she began to pray to the goddess of the veins, Suonetar, and the maiden of the ether, to come and join the different parts together, and to sew up the wounds and make him whole. And then she prayed to the mighty Ukko to help them, and to heal every part that was wounded or bruised, to touch them with his magic touch, and restore Lemminkainen to life.

And Ukko did so, and Lemminkainen lived once more, but he was still blind and deaf and dumb. But his mother considered deeply how she might restore these senses to him, and at length she called the little bee to her, and bade it go out and collect honey from the healing plants in the meadows. So the bee flew away and returned very soon laden with honey from all the healing plants, and she anointed her son with this, but it only gave him his sight, and still left him deaf and dumb.

Again the mother sent off the bee, telling it to go across the seven oceans, and to alight on an enchanted isle in the eighth. There it would find magic honey to bring back. The bee did as it was told and found the magic honey-balm in tiny earthen vessels, and flew back with seven vessels in its arms and seven on each shoulder, all filled with the magic honey-balm. Lemminkainen's mother anointed him with this, and he could hear, but still remained speechless.

Then the mother bade the bee fly up to the seventh heaven and to bring down from thence the honey of Ukko's wisdom, which was so abundant there. When the bee declared that it could not fly so high, she told it the way and sent it off. So the bee flew up and up, and at the end of the first day it rested on the moon. At the end of the second day it reached the shoulders of the Great Bear, and on the third day it flew over the Great Bear's head and reached the seventh heaven of Ukko. There it found three golden kettles, and in the first was a balm that gave ease to the heart, and the balm in the second gave happiness, but the balm of the third kettle gave life. So the bee took some of the life-giving balm and hastened back to earth.

Then Lemminkainen's mother anointed him with this magic balm, speaking a magic spell as she rubbed him with it, and immediately he awoke, and his first words were: 'Truly I have been sleeping long, but yet my sleep was a sweet one, for I knew neither joy nor sorrow.'

When his mother asked how he had gone thither and who it was that had harmed him, he told her all—how Louhi had sent him for the swan, and how old Nasshut, the blind Northland shepherd, had sent the serpent against him and killed him, for he did not know the charm to cure the sting of serpents. Then his mother upbraided him for his ignorance, and told him how the serpent was born from the marrow of the duck and the brain of swallows, mixed with Suojatar's saliva, and she told him too what the spell was to use against them. Thus his mother brought him back to life and health, and he was wiser and handsomer than ever, but still he was downhearted.

His mother asked him the reason of this, and he replied that he was still thinking of Louhi's daughter and longing for her as his bride, but that first he must shoot the wild swan. But his mother answered: 'Do not think of the wild swan, nor yet of Louhi's daughters. Return with me to Kalevala to thy home, and thank and praise thy Maker, Ukko, that he hath saved thee, for I alone could never have saved thee from dismal Manala.'

So Lemminkainen hastened home with his mother,—back again to his pleasant home in Kalevala.

* * * * *

Every one expressed satisfaction that Lemminkainen had been restored to life—'for, you see,' said Mimi, 'though he was really a bad man, he did so many wonderful things that you just can't help wishing for him not to be killed.'

But now it had grown quite late, nearly nine o'clock, and so they all ate their supper and then Erik and Father Mikko sat smoking and talking while Mother Stina and the little ones went into the other room to bed,—for Erik had actually two rooms in his house,—and it isn't every Finnish country cabin that has that, you know. They talked of their country, for that was the dearest subject to both of them,—they were intelligent men for their class,—and when Father Mikko told how the Russian Tsar was taking their liberties away from them, and was beginning to break all his oaths and promises and would no doubt end up by making them as badly off as the people on the south side of the Finnish Gulf—when Father Mikko related all this, Erik's eyes flashed and he longed to be able to draw the sword to defend his beloved country's liberty.

But at last they had gone over all these things and were sleepy themselves, so they made up their beds on some sheep-skin rugs on the floor, and soon fell into a sound sleep.

* * * * *

The next day it was still storming, and so Father Mikko gave up all idea of leaving that day. About three o'clock in the afternoon—it was dark as night then—they had all finished dinner and settled down around the fire as on the day before, and Father Mikko was easily persuaded to go on with his stories.

Erik was at work on a pair of snow-shoes, just like those that Lemminkainen wore in the story of the hunt after the Hisi-deer. They were nearly finished—about six feet long and five inches wide in the broadest part, with a place in the middle to fasten them on to the feet, and the front ends were turned up. All that now remained to be done was to polish them off, and Erik worked at this while Father Mikko told his stories. The children had enough to do to watch 'Pappa' Mikko's face and listen to the wonderful tales, and Mother Stina was busy with some sewing—she couldn't spin because the noise of the wheel would have drowned Father Mikko's voice.

'Now that we have brought Lemminkainen back from the Death-river,' the old man said, 'we will see what Wainamoinen was doing all this while.' So he began as follows:



WAINAMOINEN'S BOAT-BUILDING

Wainamoinen started to build a boat from the Rainbow-maiden's distaff, but he had soon used up all his timber, and the boat was far from finished. So he asked Sampsa (the planter of the first trees that grew on earth) to go and search out the needful timber in order to finish the boat.

Sampsa started off with a golden axe upon his shoulder and a copper hatchet in his belt. He wandered through the mountain forests, and at length came upon a great aspen, and was just going to cut it down, when the aspen asked him what he wanted. 'I wish to take your timber for a vessel,' Sampsa replied, 'that the wise magician Wainamoinen is building.' Then the aspen answered: 'All the boats that have been made of my wood have been but failures; they float but a little way, and then sink to the ocean's bottom, for my trunk is full of hollow places, where the worms have eaten my wood.'

So Sampsa left the aspen and searched still further, until he came to a pine-tree that was even taller than the aspen was. Sampsa struck a blow with his axe, and at the same time asked the pine-tree if it would furnish good timber for Wainamoinen's boat. But the pine-tree answered: 'All the ships that have been made from me are useless. I am full of imperfections, for the ravens live among my branches and bring ill-luck.'

And Sampsa was obliged to leave the pine-tree and go on until he came to a tremendous oak-tree, whose trunk was thicker than the height of even the tallest men. And he asked the oak-tree if it would furnish wood for Wainamoinen's boat. 'I will gladly furnish the wood,' replied the oak-tree, 'for I am tall and sound and strong. The warm sun shines upon me for three months in the summer, and the sacred cuckoo dwells in my branches and brings good fortune.' So Sampsa quickly felled the oak, and brought the timber, skilfully hewn, to Wainamoinen.

The wise magician Wainamoinen then began to put his boat together by the aid of magic spells. The first magic song that he sang joined the framework together, and the second song fastened the planking into the ribs, and the third put the rowlocks in place and made the oars. But, alas! when all this was done, there were still three magic words needed to complete the stem and stern and bulwarks.

Wainamoinen saw that all his labour was in vain unless he found the three magic words, for unless the stern and stem were fastened and the bulwarks built, the boat could never put to sea. He pondered long over where he might find the lost words, and after a while he concluded that they might be found in the brains of swallows and the heads of swans and the plumage of the sea-duck. But though he killed great numbers of these birds, he could not find the three lost words. Then he thought that he might find them on the tongues of reindeers or of the squirrels; but though he killed great numbers of them, and found many words on their tongues, the three lost words were not there.

Then he said to himself: 'I will seek the lost words in the kingdom of Manala; there are countless words to be found there in the Deathland.' So off he went, travelling for three weeks over hill and dale, through marshes and thickets, until at length he came to the river of Tuoni. There he called out in a voice like thunder: 'Bring a boat, O daughter of Tuoni, and ferry me over this black and fatal river.'

Tuoni's daughter, a wee little dwarf, but very wise and ancient, bade him first say why he wished to come into the Deathland while he was still alive. And first Wainamoinen answered that Tuoni himself, the death-god, had sent him. But the maid replied: 'Had Tuoni brought thee, he would now be with thee, and thou wouldst be wearing his cap and gloves.' So Wainamoinen answered again: 'I was slain by an iron weapon.' But the maid would not believe him, because he had no bleeding wound. Then he said the third time, that he had been washed there by the river. But still the maid would not believe him, for his clothing was not wet. And the fourth time he said that fire had burnt him. But the maid replied: 'If the fire had brought thee to Manala, thy hair and eyebrows and beard would be all singed and burnt. But now I ask thee for the last time what it is that hath brought thee, living, hither. Tell me the truth this time.'

Then Wainamoinen told her that he had been building a boat by magic, but that he yet lacked one spell, and had come thither to seek it. When he had said this, Tuoni's daughter came across and rowed him to the opposite side, having first tried to dissuade him from coming. But Wainamoinen was not afraid; and when he had landed he walked straight up to the abode of Tuoni.

There Tuonetar, Tuoni's wife, gave him a golden goblet filled with beer, saying: 'Drink Tuoni's beer, O wise and ancient Wainamoinen!' But he carefully inspected the liquor before he tasted it, and saw that it was black and full of the spawn of frogs and poisonous serpent-broods; and he said to Tuonetar: 'I have not come hither to drink Tuoni's poisons, for they that do so will surely be destroyed.'

Tuonetar then asked him why he had come, and he told her of his boat-building, and how he still needed the three magic words, and that he hoped to find them there. 'Tuoni will never reveal them,' Tuonetar said; 'nor shalt thou ever leave these gates alive;' and as she spoke she waved the slumber-wand over Wainamoinen's head, and he sank into a deep sleep. And to make sure of his not escaping, Tuoni's son, a hideous wizard with only three fingers, wove nets of iron and of copper, and set them all through the river, to catch Wainamoinen if by any chance he should get so far.

But Wainamoinen soon freed himself from Tuonetar's slumber-spell, and knowing in how great danger he was, he instantly transformed himself into a serpent, and wriggled his way to the river, and through the nets that had been set to catch him, until at length he came out safe into the land of the living again; and the next morning, when Tuoni's wizard son went to look at his nets, he found all kinds of evil fish and serpents, but not the wise old magician.

But Wainamoinen prayed to Ukko: 'I thank thee, O Ukko, that thou hast protected me; but never suffer any other of thy heroes, not even the wisest, to go against the laws of nature to the awful Tuonela. For there are but few who return from thence.'

And then Wainamoinen called together the people on the plains of Kalevala, and spoke to the young men and maidens, saying: 'Listen, all ye young people. Never disobey your parents; never harm the innocent, nor wrong the weak, nor utter falsehood, else ye will pay the penance for it in the gloomy prison of Manala; for there is the dwelling-place of the wicked, and a place for the guilty. Beneath the burning rocks there are fiery couches, with pillows of hissing serpents, and coverlets of green writhing vipers. And the wicked there drink the blood of adders, but have nothing to eat at all. If ye would be happy, shun this abode of the wicked ones in Tuonela.'

* * * * *

'But I thought Wainamoinen wasn't to use any wood for his boat except the pieces of the distaff,' said Mimi.

'Well, you see,' said Father Mikko, 'the main thing was to build the boat by magic, and we'll see now how he did that. I don't believe a little extra wood made any difference.' So he went on:



WAINAMOINEN FINDS THE LOST WORDS

Wainamoinen had failed to find the three magic words in the Deathland, and now he sat and pondered whither he should go next to seek them. While he was thinking over this, a shepherd came to him and said: 'Thou canst find a thousand words of wisdom on the tongue of the dead hero Wipunen. I know the road that leads to his grave: first, thou must journey a long distance over the points of needles, and then a long way upon the edges of sharp swords, and then a third road on the edges of hatchets.'

Then Wainamoinen considered how he should be able to walk over the needles and swords and hatchets, and at last hit on a plan. He went to the smith Ilmarinen and bade him make shoes of iron, and gloves of copper, and a magic staff of the sent by mighty Ukko, for if so I will be resigned, but if thou art of some human race, I will search out thy tribe and destroy it. Leave my body, cease thy forging, let me rest in peace and slumber. Or if thou wilt not leave me, I will call on all the great magicians of the past, the spirits of the mountains and woods and seas and rivers, on Ilmatar, daughter of the ether, to assist me. Or if these be not sufficient, I will call on mighty Ukko to drive thee forth. If thou art from the winds, then return to the copper mountains where they live; if from the sea, return to it; if from the forests, then return to them, or I will drive thee to the bottom of the coal-black river of Tuoni, whence thou shalt never move again.'

'I am well contented here,' said Wainamoinen, 'in these roomy caverns. I can eat thy heart and flesh and for drink I will take thy blood. And I will set my forge still deeper in thy vitals, and will swing my hammer still harder on thy heart and lungs and liver. I shall never leave thee until I learn all thy wisdom, and the three lost words, that all thy magic knowledge may not perish with thee from the earth.'

Then Wipunen began to sing all his knowledge and his magic spells for Wainamoinen. He sang the origin of witchcraft, the source of good and evil and how by the will of Ukko the water was first divided from the ether. And next he sang of how the moon and sun were made, and whence the colours of the rainbow came, and how the stars were sprinkled in the sky. Three whole days and nights he sang, until the stars and the moon stood still to listen, and the very waves of the sea and the tides ceased to rise and fall, and the rivers stopped in their courses.

At length Wainamoinen had learned all the wisdom of the great magician, and the three lost words, and he made ready to leave Wipunen's body, bidding him open wide his mouth that he might get out and leave him for ever.

'I have eaten many things, O Wainamoinen,' said Wipunen, 'bears and reindeer, wolves and oxen, but never such a thing as thou. Now thou hast found the wisdom that thou seekest, go in peace and never come back to me.'

Then he opened his mouth wide, and Wainamoinen glided forth and hastened swiftly as the deer to Kalevala. First he went into the smithy, and Ilmarinen asked him if he had learned the lost words that would enable him to finish his vessel. 'I have learned a thousand magic words,' answered Wainamoinen, 'and among them are the lost words that I sought.'

Thereupon he hastened off to where his vessel lay, and with the three lost words he joined the stem and stern and raised the bulwarks. Thus he had built the vessel with magic alone, and by magic art he launched it too, not touching it with foot or knee or hand, using only magic to push it. Thus was the task completed which should gain for him the Rainbow-maiden in her beauty.

* * * * *

'Oh! do hurry and tell us about that,' said Mimi, and Father Mikko continued.



THE RIVAL SUITORS

Now the Rainbow-maiden was really the same as old Louhi's fairest daughter, whom Wainamoinen had wooed, and for whom Ilmarinen had made the magic Sampo, and Wainamoinen had learned this. So when the magic boat was finished, he made ready for a journey to the Northland, to try once more to win the fair Pohjola maiden for his bride.

He ornamented the magic vessel with gold and silver, and painted it scarlet, and on the masts he set sails of linen, red, white, and blue. Then he stepped on board, and called on Ukko to protect and help him, and on the winds to aid him on his way, and off the magic boat flew towards Pohjola, never needing an oar to help it.

Annikki, Ilmarinen's sister, was down by the seashore just at dawn that morning, and as she gazed out over the sea, she saw a blue speck in the distance. At first she thought it was a flock of birds, and then as it drew nearer it looked like a great tree floating on the water, but at last she saw that it was a vessel with but one man in it, and when it came still nearer she recognised Wainamoinen.

She called out to him and asked him whither he was going. He replied that he was come a-fishing, but Annikki said: 'Thy boat is not rigged like a fisher-boat, nor hast thou lines or nets with thee. Tell me the truth, O Wainamoinen!' And he answered the second time, that he had come to kill wild geese and ducks. But Annikki told him that she knew that was untrue, for he had no hunting dogs in the vessel with him, nor any weapons. Then he told her that he was sailing to the wars. Annikki replied: 'My father often used to sail to war, but in a ship with many rowers, and with many armed heroes on board, but thy vessel is surely not fitted for battle. Now tell me the truth, O wise Wainamoinen, or else I will send a storm-wind after thee and break thy ship in pieces.'

Then he told her the truth, that he was going to woo the Rainbow-maiden, Louhi's daughter, and then Annikki knew that he spoke the truth. She hurried off to her brother's smithy and said to him: 'Dearest brother, if thou wilt forge for me a silver loom and gold and silver finger-rings and earrings, golden girdles and golden ornaments for my hair, I will tell thee something that is very important for thee to know.'

So Ilmarinen promised, and his sister said: 'O Ilmarinen, if thou hopest ever to wed the fair maid of Pohjola, thou must hasten and make thy sledge ready, for Wainamoinen is now sailing thither in a magic boat to win her before thee.' Then Ilmarinen bade his sister prepare a magic soap and make a bath ready for him while he was forging the gold and silver ornaments that she had bargained for.

When Ilmarinen had finished his work he found the bath and the magic soap all ready for him, and he began to wash off the grime and dirt and soot of the smithy. When he was through, and came out of the bath, he had grown wonderfully bright and handsome, for the magic soap had made his cheeks rosy and his eyes bright as moonlight. Then he put on his finest garments, soft linen, and silken stockings, a blue vest and scarlet trousers, and a fur coat of sealskin, held by buttons made of jewels, and a belt with golden buckles. After he was dressed he ordered his magic sledge to be harnessed, and on the front placed six cuckoos and seven blue-birds that they might sing and charm the Northland maiden.

When all was ready Ilmarinen prayed to great Ukko to send snow that it might cover all the country and let his sledge glide easily to Pohjola. And the snow came, and Ilmarinen wrapped himself up warmly in bear-skins, and drove off like the wind, first invoking Ukko's blessing on his journey. On he went, over hill and dale, with the cuckoos and blue-birds singing on the sledge, and then he drove along the seashore to the north in a cloud of snow and sand and mist and sea-foam, looking out for Wainamoinen's vessel. On the evening of the third day he caught up with Wainamoinen, and called out to him: 'O ancient Wainamoinen, let us woo the maiden peacefully, and let her choose which one of us she will.' To this Wainamoinen agreed; and having promised not to use deceit of any sort against one another, they hurried on their way,—Wainamoinen calling up the south wind to help him, and Ilmarinen's steed shaking the hills of Northland as he galloped on.

Soon they drew near to Louhi's dwelling, and the watchdogs began to bark more loudly than they had ever done before. Louhi's husband told his daughter to go and see what the trouble was, but she replied that she was busy grinding barley, and could not go. Then he told his wife to go, but she was too busy cooking dinner. So the father grew angry, and said: 'Women are always busy either baking or sleeping; go, my son, and learn what all the trouble is.' But the son refused, because he was busy splitting wood.

So at last Louhi's husband was obliged to go himself, for the dogs kept barking louder and louder. There, as soon as he had reached the gate, he saw a scarlet-coloured ship sailing into the bay, and a sledge driving up along the shore at full speed. Then he hastened back into the house, and told them all that he had seen. And Louhi took a branch and gave it to her daughter, saying: 'Place this on the fire, my daughter, and if in burning it drips blood, then these strangers bring war and bloodshed; but if clear water, then they come in peace.'

So the maiden put the branch on the fire, and as they watched it they saw honey trickling out, and from this Louhi knew that the two men were coming as suitors. Then they hastened out into the courtyard, and saw the vessel in the harbour, painted scarlet, and an ancient white-bearded magician at the helm; and on the land they saw a brightly-coloured sledge, with cuckoos and bluebirds singing on the front, and driven by a young and handsome hero.

Louhi immediately recognised them both, and said to her daughter: 'Wilt thou have one of these suitors, dearest daughter? He that comes in the ship is good old Wainamoinen, bringing countless treasures for thee from Kalevala. The other in the sledge, with the singing birds, is the blacksmith Ilmarinen, who brings no presents save himself. When they come into the house bring a pitcher of honey-drink, and give it to the one that thou wilt follow. Give it to old Wainamoinen, for he brings thee countless treasures.'

But the daughter replied: 'I will never marry a man for riches, but for his real worth. Mothers did not use to sell their daughters thus in the olden times to suitors whom they did not love. I shall choose Ilmarinen for his true worth and wisdom.'

Old Louhi grew angry at this, and tried to change her daughter's mind, but all she could say did not move her; and just then Wainamoinen came to the house, and addressed the maiden thus: 'Come with me, O lovely maiden, be my bride and honoured wife, and share my joys and sorrows with me.'

The maiden answered: 'Hast thou built the magic vessel, using neither hand nor foot to touch it?'

'I have built it, and brought it hither,' answered Wainamoinen. 'It is finely made by magic, and will live in the worst of storms; nothing can ever sink it.'

But then the maiden said to him: 'I will not wed a husband born in the sea. Storms would bring us trouble, and the winds rack our hearts. I cannot go with thee, cannot marry thee, O Wainamoinen.'



ILMARINEN'S WOOING

Just as Wainamoinen had received his answer, Ilmarinen came hurrying into the house and into the guest-room. There servants brought him honey-drink in silver pitchers, but he said: 'I will never taste the drink of Northland till I see the Rainbow-maiden. With her I will gladly drink, for I have come hither to seek her hand.' Then Louhi said to him: 'The maiden is not ready to receive thee, and thou may not woo her before thou hast ploughed the field of hissing serpents. Once the evil spirit Lempo ploughed it, but it has never been done since.'

Ilmarinen wandered off sadly, but while he was pondering over what he should do, he saw the lovely maid herself. He went up to her and said: 'Long ago I forged the Sampo for thee, and then thou promised to become my wife. But now thy mother demands that I first plough the field of serpents before I win thee.' But the maiden comforted him, and told him how to plough the field with a plough of gold and silver and copper.

So Ilmarinen went off and built a smithy, and placed in the furnace gold and silver and copper and iron. And from these he forged a plough, with ploughshare of gold and beam of silver and copper handles; and for himself he made boots and gloves and armour of iron; and as he worked he sang magic spells to give his work power to overcome the serpents. Then he harnessed to the plough the fire-breathing Hisi-horse, and went into the field. There were serpents of every sort, creeping and crawling over one another, and hissing horribly, but Ilmarinen cast a spell over them, and ploughed the field, so that all the snakes were buried in the furrows. And then he went to Louhi, and claimed her daughter's hand.

But Louhi refused to let him have her daughter until he should catch the great bear of Manala, and bring him to her. So he went off to the maid again, and told her what old Louhi had demanded of him. The lovely maiden instructed him how to prepare a muzzle for the bear, forging it of steel on a rock beneath the water, at a spot where three currents met together, and the straps were to be of steel and copper mixed. And Ilmarinen made a muzzle as she had directed, and set off for Manala, the dismal Deathland. As he went he prayed to the goddess of the mists to send a fog where the great bear of Manala was, so that he might not see Ilmarinen as he approached. And the goddess sent the fog, and Ilmarinen was able to creep up to the bear and throw the magic muzzle over his head, and then to lead him to Louhi without any trouble.

When he had brought the bear to her, he asked her again for her lovely daughter's hand. But Louhi said to him: 'Thou must perform one more task still, and then, when that is done, thou shalt have my dear daughter. Catch for me the monster-pike that lives in the river of Tuoni, but thou may not use hook, nor line, nor nets, nor boat. Hundreds have been sent to catch it, but all have died in Tuoni's dark waters.'

And now Ilmarinen was deeply discouraged, and went off to tell the maiden of this third task, which he thought it was impossible to do. But she told him to forge an eagle in his magic furnace, and that the eagle would catch the monster-pike for him. So Ilmarinen went to work and forged an eagle in his smithy: talons of iron, beak of steel and copper. And when the eagle was entirely made from iron and copper, he mounted on its back and bade it fly away to the river of Tuoni, there to catch the monster-pike. When they had reached the bank, Ilmarinen dismounted and began to search for the pike, while the eagle hovered over the water. While Ilmarinen was searching, a huge monster rose from the depths and tried to seize him, but the eagle swooped down, and with one bite of his mighty beak, wrenched off the monster's head. Still Ilmarinen continued his search, until at last the monster-pike itself rose up to seize him. But as it came to the surface, the giant-eagle swooped down upon it, and buried its talons in the pike's flesh. Then the fish, maddened with the pain, rushed down to the deepest caverns, dragging the eagle with it until the bird had to loose its hold and soar aloft again. A second time the eagle swooped down and struck deep into the pike's shoulders; but the pike dived to the bottom again and escaped. At last the eagle made a third descent, and this time grasped the pike firmly with his beak of steel, and planted his talons firmly on the rocks, and this time he succeeded in dragging the pike from out the river.

Then the eagle flew off with the pike to the top of a tall pine-tree, and there ate the body of his victim, leaving the head for Ilmarinen. But the eagle himself soared up into the air, up beyond the clouds, and at length disappeared behind the sun.

Ilmarinen returned to Louhi with the pike's head and again claimed her daughter in marriage. Louhi answered him: 'Thou hast performed this last task but badly, since thou only brought me the worthless head. But still, since thou hast completed the other tasks also, I will give thee my fair daughter. Thou hast won the Maid of Beauty, to be the help and joy of all thy future life.'

But while Ilmarinen was rejoicing in his good fortune, the aged Wainamoinen wandered sorrowfully homewards, bewailing his sad lot, thus to be compelled to live without a wife to cheer his home. 'Woe is me,' he sang, 'that I did not woo and marry in my youth, for the old men cannot hope to conquer the young ones when they go a-wooing.'

* * * * *

When this story was ended, Father Mikko stopped a while to rest, and the others discussed the stories that he had just told. All were pleased that the Rainbow-maiden had chosen Ilmarinen instead of the aged Wainamoinen, and little Antero asked 'Pappa' Mikko what they had had to eat at the wedding—he was rather more deeply interested in things to eat than anything else—so Father Mikko continued, after he had rested a while.



THE BREWING OF BEER

Great preparations were now made in Louhi's home for her daughter's wedding with Ilmarinen. In distant Karjala, a part of Kalevala, was a great ox, the largest in the world. It took a weasel seven days to travel round his neck and shoulders; the swallow had to fly a whole day without resting, to get from one horn-tip to the other; the squirrel travelled thirty days, starting from the tail, before he reached the shoulders. This great ox was led by a thousand heroes to Pohjola, to Louhi's house, but when he had come thither, no one could be found to kill him.

Then there came an aged hero from Karjala, and went up to the ox to kill him with his war-club. But the ox turned and gave him one fierce glance, and the old warrior dropped his club and ran away and hid in the forest. Then they sent forth far and near to find some one to kill the ox, but no one came. At last there arose from the sea a tiny dwarf, who, when he stepped on land, grew suddenly into a giant, with hands of iron, a copper-coloured face, a hat of flint upon his head, and sandstone shoes upon his feet. As soon as this sea-spirit saw the ox, he rushed at it and killed it with one blow of his golden sword. Thus was the meat provided for the feast.

The banquet-hall was so large that when a dog barked at one door no one could hear him at the opposite side, and when a cock crowed on the roof no one on the ground could hear him. Louhi went in thither, to see that all was being put in readiness, but while she was there she said aloud as if to herself: 'Whence will I get the liquor for my guests, for I know nothing of the secret of beer-brewing?'

An old man was sitting beside the fire, and he answered her: 'Beer comes from barley, hops, and water. The seed of the hops were scattered loosely over the earth, and from them arose the graceful hop-vine, climbing over everything. The barley was planted in the land of Kalevala, and it grew and flourished there.

'Then the hops, clinging to the trees, began to hum, and the barley and the water in the wells to sing, saying: "Let us join our forces together, that we may live united, for that is far better than to be separated as we now are." So the ancient maiden Osmotar took six golden grains of barley, seven hops, and seven cups of water, and set them in a caldron on the fire. There she let them steep and boil during the warm summer days, and at length poured off the liquor into tubs made of birch-wood. Now she pondered long how she should make the liquor ferment and cause it to foam and sparkle.

'Then Osmotar called one of the Kalevala maidens and bade her step into the birchen tub. The maiden did so, and on looking around she saw a splinter of wood lying on the bottom. She picked it up, thinking it was worthless, but nevertheless she took it to Osmotar. Osmotar rubbed her hands upon her knees and turned the bit of wood into a white squirrel. As soon as she had made the squirrel, she sent it off to Tapio's kingdom, to the great forest, and commanded it to bring her cones from the magic fir-trees and young shoots from the magic pines. And the squirrel hurried off and travelled through the forest until it came to Tapio's home. There it found three magic pine-trees growing, and three fir-trees beside them, and having taken the young shoots and the cones and stowed them in its pouch, it came back again to Osmotar. But when she put the cones and pine-shoots into the beer, it still refused to ferment.

'So Osmotar made the Kalevala maiden get into the birchen tub once more, and this time the maiden found a chip upon the bottom. When she took it to Osmotar, the latter rubbed her hands upon her knees again, and turned the chip into a magic golden-breasted marten. Then she sent the marten off to the dens of the mountain bears, to gather the foam from their angry lips as they fought with one another. The marten flew away, and soon returned with the foam that it had gathered from the mouths of the raging bears. But when Osmotar added it to the liquor there was no effect, and the beer remained as still as ever.

'For a third time, then, the maid of Kalevala stepped into the tub, and this time found a pod on the bottom. Osmotar took the pod and rubbed it between her hands and knees, and there flew out of it a honeybee. She sent the bee off to the Islands of the Sea, telling it to go to a meadow there, where a maiden lay asleep, and growing by the maiden's side there were honey-grasses and fragrant flowers. From these the bee was to collect the honey and bring it back. The bee flew off straight over the ocean, and on the evening of the third day reached the Isles of the Sea, where it found the maiden fast asleep amongst the flowers, clad in a silver robe, with a girdle of copper. By her grew the loveliest and sweetest of flowers and grasses, and the bee loaded itself down with their honey and returned to Osmotar with it. This time, when the honey was placed in the beer it began to ferment and rise and bubble and foam until it filled all the tubs and ran over on the sands.

'When the beer was ready, all the heroes of Kalevala came to drink it, and Lemminkainen drank so much that he became intoxicated. But Osmotar, now that she had made the beer, did not know how to keep it, for it was still running out of the tubs and over everything. While she was sitting and grieving over this, the robin sang to her from an aspen, and told her to put it into strong oaken barrels bound with copper hoops, and thus the last difficulty was overcome.

'Thus was beer first brewed from hops and barley,' continued the old man, 'and the beer of Kalevala is famed to strengthen the feeble, to cheer the sad, to make the old young, and the timid brave. It makes the heart joyful and puts wise sayings on the tongue, but the fool it makes still more foolish.'

Thus the old man ended his account of the origin of beer, and Louhi, who had listened to him carefully, took all the tubs she had and put hops and barley in them, and water on top, and then lit huge fires to heat stones, that she might drop them in the mixture and make it boil. She made such a great quantity of beer that the springs were emptied and the forests grew small, and such a vast column of smoke went up as filled half of Pohjola and was seen even in distant Karjala and Lemminkainen's home. And all the people there thought it arose from some mighty battle between great heroes. But Lemminkainen pondered over it, and at last he found out that it was the fires for Louhi's beer-making for the wedding feast, and he grew bitterly angry, for Louhi had refused him her daughter's hand, and now had given her to Ilmarinen.

But now the beer was ready and was stored away in casks hooped with copper, and thousands of delicate dishes were made ready for the feast. But when all was nearly ready the beer began to grow impatient in its casks, and cried out for the guests to come that songs might be sung in its honour. So Louhi sent first for a pike and a salmon to sing its praises, but they could not do it. Next she sent for a boy, but the boy was too ignorant to sing the praises of the beer, and all this time the beer was calling out more and more loudly from its prison. Then Louhi determined to invite the guests at once, lest the beer should break forth from the casks.

So she called one of her servants and said to her: 'Go, my trusted servant, and call together all the Pohjola people to the banquet. Go out into the highways too, and bring in all the poor and blind and cripples, the old and the young, that they may be merry at my daughter's wedding. And ask all the people of Karjala and the ancient Wainamoinen, but be sure thou dost not invite wild Lemminkainen.' At this the servant asked why she was not to ask Lemminkainen, and Louhi answered: 'Lemminkainen must not come, for he loves war and strife, and would bring disturbance and sorrow to our feast, and scoff at our maidens.'

And the servant, having learned from Louhi how she should recognise Lemminkainen, set off and invited rich and poor, old and young, the deaf, the blind, and the cripples in all Pohjola and Karjala, but did not ask Lemminkainen.



ILMARINEN'S WEDDING FEAST

At length the guests began to arrive, and Ilmarinen came escorted by hundreds of his friends, driving a coal-black steed, and with the same birds singing on his sledge as when he came to woo the Rainbow-maiden, Louhi's fairest daughter. When he alighted from his sledge, Louhi sent her best servants to take the steed and give him the very best of food in a manger of pure gold. But as Ilmarinen advanced to enter the house, they found that he was too tall to pass through the doorway without stooping, which would have been very unlucky: so Louhi had to have the top beam taken away before he could enter.

Inside the dwelling was so changed that no one would have recognised it. Louhi had cast a magic spell over it, and all the beams and door and window-sills were made from bones that gleamed like ivory; the windows were adorned with trout-scales, and the fires were set in flowers; and the seats and tables and floors were of gold and silver and copper, with marble hearth-stones and silken carpets on the floors. Louhi bade Ilmarinen welcome when he came into the guest-hall, and calling up her servant-maidens, she gazed at her daughter's suitor. The maidens bore wax tapers, and by their light the bridegroom looked handsomer than ever, and his eyes sparkled like the waves of the sea.



Then Louhi bade the maidens lead Ilmarinen to the seat of honour at the table in the great hall, and then all the other guests took their places, and the feast began. First of all the daintiest dishes of every sort were served by Louhi to the bridegroom—honey-biscuits, river-salmon, butter, bacon, and every delicacy one can think of—and after he was served, the servants took the dishes around to the others. After this the foaming beer was brought in silver pitchers, and all were served in the same order.

All the heroes and magicians assembled there began to grow merry, and Wainamoinen said that some one should sing the praises of the beer. But no one else could be found to do it, and all pressed Wainamoinen to sing, so at last he arose and began. He sang of the beer first, and then from his great stock of wisdom he sang them one song after the other of the days of old, until every guest grew happy from his magic power of song. But when Wainamoinen had finished his singing, he added: 'Yet I am but a poor singer. For if great Ukko should sing his perfect songs of wisdom, he would sing the oceans into honey and the sands to berries, and the pebbles into barley, the rivers into beer, the fruit to gold, and the mountains into bread. Grant thy blessing, great Ukko, upon this feast of ours. Send joy and health and comfort to all those here, that we may ever look back with pleasure to Ilmarinen's marriage with the fair Maiden of the Rainbow.'

Thus Wainamoinen, the great singer, ended his singing, and the time had come for the bride and bridegroom to leave for their distant home in Kalevala. But first must Osmotar, the wise maiden, instruct the bride as to her future life. Osmotar told her that she must henceforth be thoughtful and not foolish, that she must love her husband's kinsfolks as her own. Osmotar told her, too, never to be idle, and then instructed her in all the many household duties of the wives of Kalevala, but at the same time impressed it upon her how wicked she would be if with all this she were to forget her own parents. After this Osmotar turned to the bridegroom and bade him ever love his bride and honour her, nor ever treat her ill.

Thus she advised them both, and they made ready to leave. But the Maiden of the Rainbow wept, because she was leaving all the joys and pleasures of her youth, and those she loved, to go to a distant land, where all would be new and strange, and perhaps, too, hard for her. Yet at length all the farewells had been said, the last goodbye was spoken, and the two got into their sledge and the next instant the swift black steed flew off like an arrow, rushing on toward the land of Kalevala, leaving far behind them the gloomy Northland, which was yet so dear to the Rainbow-maiden, and which she was never to see again.

Three days they journeyed onward over hill and valley without stopping, and the third evening brought them in sight of Ilmarinen's smithy, and they could see the smoke rising from the chimneys of their home. There they found that they had been expected for a long time, and there was great rejoicing when their sledge drove up, with the birds singing merrily on its front, and all bright and happy.

Lakko, Ilmarinen's mother, received them at the door and welcomed the fair Rainbow-maiden most heartily, and when the bridal pair had taken off their furs, she served them with the very best of food and drink—choicest bits of reindeer, wheaten biscuit, honey-cakes, and fish of all sorts, and the best of beer. And while they ate, the others, who had been old Louhi's guests, began to arrive, and soon there was a great feast going on, almost as great a one as there had been before at Louhi's.

While they were all feasting, Wainamoinen arose and began to sing again. This time he sang the praises of the bridegroom's father and mother, and the bride and groom, and ended up with praising the guests that were assembled there. Then he and many of the guests took their leave and journeyed off together to their homes. Three days they drove on together, and Wainamoinen kept on singing all the time, until suddenly his song was cut short, for his sledge ran into a birch-tree and was broken into pieces. But Wainamoinen considered the case and then said: 'Is there any one here who will go to Tuonela, to the Deathland, for the auger of Tuoni, that I may mend my sledge with it?' But no one would venture on so perilous a journey, so at length Wainamoinen went himself and obtained Tuoni's magic auger, and with its aid, on his return, he put together his magic sledge again.

Then he harnessed up his steed once more and galloped off to his home. Thus ended Ilmarinen's wedding and the feasts that followed it.

* * * * *

These two stories took Antero's fancy, and he begged that 'Pappa Mikko would tell about some more times when they had good things to eat.'

But Father Mikko said: 'People can't be eating all the time, Antero, and I think the others would rather hear about what Lemminkainen did, when he heard of the feast and was not invited himself.'

Mimi cried 'Yes, yes!' and so the old man began.



THE ORIGIN OF THE SERPENT

As Lemminkainen was ploughing his fields one day, he heard the noise of sledges as if a vast number of people were on their way past. At once he guessed the reason, for they were the guests going to Ilmarinen's wedding, while he alone had not been invited. Then his face turned pale with anger, and he left his ploughing and hastened off to his house. When he arrived there, he asked his mother to give him a hearty meal, and after that he went to the bath-house and after the bath put on his finest garments, as if going to a feast.

His mother asked him where he was going and he told her that he was bound for the great feast that Louhi had prepared. But his mother tried to keep him from going, telling him that they did not want him there, or else they would have invited him, but he answered: 'This sword with its sharp edges constantly reminds me that I am needed in distant Pohjola.' His mother spoke again, saying: 'Do not go, my dear son, for Death will meet thee thrice upon the way.' Lemminkainen replied that he did not fear Death, but would overcome him, but at the same time asked his mother what the first danger would be.

'When thou hast travelled for one day,' she replied, 'thou wilt come to a stream of fire, with a fiery cataract, and in the fire-fall a rock, and on the rock a fiery hill, and on its top an eagle made of flames, who devours all that approach him.'

Lemminkainen answered that he would easily pass this danger, and asked to know the second. His mother told him: 'When thou hast travelled two days, thou wilt come to a fiery pit filled with red-hot stones, and no one has ever been able to pass over it.'

But Lemminkainen thought but little of this second danger, and asked his mother to tell him what the third one was. She replied: 'When thou hast gone one day farther, and hast come to Pohjola, the wolf and the black bear will attack thee, and many hundred men have perished in their jaws.' But he told her how easily he would overcome them and then have conquered all the dangers of the journey. Then his mother added: 'There are three things still to conquer. When thou reachest Louhi's dwelling, thou wilt find walls built of iron rising up to the sky, and surrounded by railings of spears on which are serpents and all manner of venomous creatures twisting and creeping about; and right before the gateway lies the largest of them all, longer than the rafters of a house. And beyond all this, thou wilt find great hosts of armed warriors, who have grown angry over their beer and they will certainly kill you. And if thou shouldst come into the courtyard, thou wilt find it full of sharp stakes, to hold the heads of those that go thither unbidden. Do not forget how thou once fared in Pohjola, that had I not saved thee thou wouldst now be at the bottom of Tuoni's river.'

Yet after she had warned him of all this, Lemminkainen would not be persuaded to remain at home, but put on his magic armour of copper and took his father's sword, and his own strongest bow. Then he had his steed hitched to a sledge and went out into the courtyard to drive off. There his mother bade him farewell and gave him some last words of advice, telling him that if he should come to the feast, to drink but half of his goblet of beer, for there were serpents in the other half, and to behave modestly and not to try to take the best of everything for himself.

When she had ended, Lemminkainen jumped upon his sledge, cracked his whip, and drove off like the wind. He had not gone far before a flock of wild birds flew across his road and dropped a few feathers on the ground. Lemminkainen stopped and picking them up put them carefully in his leather pouch, 'for,' he thought, 'no one knows what may happen.' As soon as he had picked up the feathers he was off again, but he had not gone far when his steed stopped in terror, for there, right in front of them, was a broad river of fire, and a fire-fall with a rock in the middle, and on the rock a fiery hill, and on the hill a flaming eagle.

The Eagle asked him whither he was going, and Lemminkainen replied that he was hurrying to Louhi's feast and begged the Eagle to let him pass. 'Truly thou shalt pass,' the Eagle answered, 'but only through the flames and down my throat.' But Lemminkainen was not dismayed. He took out the feathers from his pouch and rubbed them between his fingers, and presently there arose a whole flock of birds and flew straight down the eagle's mouth so that its hunger was satisfied, then Lemminkainen was able to pass over the river by the help of his magic, and to drive on his way.

He drove for another day and then his horse suddenly stopped again in terror, for there was a huge pit full of fire right in front, which stretched as far as one could see to east and west. Yet Lemminkainen was not discouraged, but prayed to great Ukko, that he would send a great storm from all the four points of the compass, and fill the pit with snow. And the snow came and as it fell into the seething pit of fire it melted and formed a lake; and Lemminkainen quickly cast a spell upon this lake so that a solid bridge of ice was formed over it, and he drove over in perfect safety.

Thus the second danger was passed and he drove on more swiftly than ever. After another day's journey, when he had come near to Louhi's abode, his horse stopped again, trembling with fear. This time there were a fierce wolf and a great black bear in the road. But Lemminkainen put his hand into his leathern pouch and pulled out a tuft of wool. This he rubbed between his hands and breathed on it, and it changed into a whole flock of sheep, on which the bear and the wolf jumped and left Lemminkainen to pursue his journey in peace.

In a very short time he had reached Louhi's house. But there he found the great wall of iron and the fence of spears and the horrible snakes and lizards that his mother had told him of. Yet he pulled out his magic broad sword and cut an opening through the wall and the fence of spears and the mass of serpents, and passed through to the gateway. There he found a huge serpent with a hundred eyes, each as large as bowls, and a thousand tongues long as javelins, and teeth like hatchets. Lemminkainen sang one spell, but it was not powerful enough, and the huge monster started to rush at him and seize him in its awful mouth. But Lemminkainen just in time began to sing a stronger spell.

For evil things cannot bear to have their wicked origin told, and if therefore one sings the source of any evil, one makes it harmless at once, so Lemminkainen sang: 'If thou wilt not give room for me to pass, I will sing of thy evil origin, will tell how thy horrid head was made. Suoyatar, thy evil mother, once spat upon the waves of the sea. The spittle was rocked by the waves and warmed by the sun, until after a long time it was washed ashore. There the daughters of Ukko, the Creator, saw it, and said: "What would happen if great Ukko were to breathe the breath of life into this writhing, senseless mass?" But Ukko overheard them and said: "Naught but evil comes from evil, therefore I will not give it life."

'Now, wicked Lempo heard what Ukko had said, and he himself breathed into it the breath of life, and shaped it to the form of a serpent, adding to the spittle all manner of evil things, every poisonous plant and thing from the Deathland. This was thine origin, O Serpent, vilest thing of all creation; therefore clear the pathway that I may enter the halls of the hostess Louhi.'

Thus sang Lemminkainen, and the serpent uncoiled itself and crawled away, while Ahti himself went on through the gateway.



THE UNWELCOME GUEST

Thus Lemminkainen came unbidden to Louhi's abode, but he had arrived too late for the feast. He entered the house with such a mighty tread that the floors bent under him and the walls and ceilings creaked as he advanced. Louhi's husband was seated in the guest-room, and Lemminkainen said to him: 'The same greeting to thee that thou givest to me! Are there food and beer here for a stranger and barley for a hungry steed?'

Louhi's husband answered: 'I have never yet refused a place in my stables for a stranger's horse, and if thou wilt act honestly there is a place for thee between the iron kettles.'

Lemminkainen said: 'When my father Lempo comes to a house as a guest, he is well received and given the place of honour. Why should I, his son, be put between the pots and kettles to be covered with soot?' With these words he walked up to the table, and taking his seat he waited to be served.

Then Louhi said to him: 'O Lemminkainen, thou wert not invited hither, and I feel that thou bringest sorrow with thee. All our dinner was eaten and our beer drunk yesterday, and we have nothing left for thee.'

This made Lemminkainen very angry, and he replied: 'O toothless mistress of Pohjola, thou hast managed thy feast very badly, for thou hast had delicacies of every sort for the others, who gave but trifling presents, while for me, who have sent the most of all, thou hast nothing at all after my long journey.'

Then Louhi called up one of her meanest servants and bade her serve the guest. And there came a little short woman, who made ready a soup out of fish-bones and fish-heads and crusts of bread and turnip-stalks, and brought him the worst of the servants' beer to quench his thirst with. Lemminkainen looked into the pitchers of beer, and saw snakes and worms and lizards floating about in them. This made him furiously angry, yet he resolved to drink the beer at any rate, and then to punish them for their evil treatment of him. So he drew a fish-hook out of his magic wallet, and with it he caught all the evil creatures in the beer and killed them with his sword, and drank the beer.

When he had done this, he turned to the host and upbraided him for his bad treatment, and finally said that as the Pohjola folk could not treat guests decently, perhaps he could purchase good beer at least. At this Louhi's husband grew angry and conjured up a little lake in the floor at Lemminkainen's feet, and bade him quench his thirst at that. But Lemminkainen conjured up a bull with gold and silver horns, that drank up all the water. Then Louhi's husband conjured up a wolf to devour the bull, but Ahti called up a rabbit to draw off the wolf's attention. Next the host conjured up a dog to eat the rabbit, but Ahti drew away the dog by means of a squirrel that he called up by his magic. At that the host made a golden marten to catch the squirrel, and Lemminkainen a scarlet-coloured fox which ate the golden marten. Next the host conjured a hen to distract the scarlet fox, and Lemminkainen made a hawk to tear the hen to pieces.

Then old Louhi's husband cried: 'We shall never be happy here until thou art driven out, O evil Ahti,' and with these words he drew his sword and challenged Lemminkainen to combat. So Ahti drew his sword also, and when the two were measured, they found that Ahti's was the shorter by half an inch.

Then Lemminkainen said to his host: 'Although thou hast the longer sword, yet thou shalt begin the fight.'

After this they placed themselves in position, and the host of Pohjola began. But so powerful was Lemminkainen's magic that he only hit the walls and floor and rafters, but could not touch Ahti himself. Then Lemminkainen said sneeringly: 'What harm have the walls and rafters done, that thou shouldst cut them to pieces. But come, let us go out into the courtyard, that the hall may not be covered with blood.'

So they went out into the yard, and there they spread out an ox-hide, and took up their places on it to continue the fight. Lemminkainen again allowed the host to begin, and the latter struck three mighty blows, but still could not harm Ahti. Then the battle began in real earnest, and the sparks flew from their swords until it seemed as if there were a sheet of flame flowing from Lemminkainen's sword and down upon the head and shoulders of his opponent. And when he saw this, Lemminkainen said: 'O thou son of Pohjola, see how thy neck is shining like the ocean at dawn.'

The other turned without thinking, to see what it was, and quick as lightning Lemminkainen whirled his sword round his head, and with one blow cut off the host's head as easily as one cuts the top from a turnip, and the head rolled along on the ground. In the yard were hundreds of sharp stakes, and on all but one there was a human head. So Lemminkainen quickly took the host's head and stuck it on the empty stake, and then went into the house and ordered Louhi to bring him water to wash his hands, as he had just slain her husband.

But Louhi hastened out and called in hundreds of armed warriors to avenge her husband's death. And in a very short time Lemminkainen saw that he must either flee or else be killed if he remained.



THE ISLE OF REFUGE

Lemminkainen hastened from Louhi's house and looked around for his sledge and steed to escape from the Pohjola men. But both had disappeared, and in their place he found only a clump of willows. As he stood there, wondering what he should do next, the noise of armed men running together grew louder and louder, and he knew that they would soon reach him. So Lemminkainen changed himself into an eagle, and rose up into the clouds. As he flew towards the south he met a gray hawk flying northward, and called to it: 'O Gray Hawk, fly to Pohjola and tell the warriors of the Northland that they will never catch the Eagle, Lemminkainen, ere he reaches his home in distant Kalevala.'

Then he flew on home and taking on again his own form, he went to his mother's house. When she saw the troubled look in his face, she guessed that some great danger threatened him, and began to ask him if it were this, or that, or the other that troubled him, but to all her questions he answered 'no.' At length she bade him tell her, then, what his trouble was, and he replied: 'All the men of Northland are sharpening their swords and spears to kill thy unlucky son Ahti, for I have slain the host of Pohjola, Louhi's husband, in a quarrel, and the men of Northland will soon come hither to avenge it.'

His mother then reminded him how she had warned him of the journey and its troubles, and asked him where he was going to take refuge. Lemminkainen replied that he did not know, and asked his mother to help him, and she answered: 'If I should turn thee into a tree, thou might be cut down for firewood. Or if into a berry, the maidens might pluck thee. Or if to a fish, thou would never have a happy life. But if thou wilt swear to me not to go to war again for sixty years, then I will tell thee of a distant isle, far off across the ocean, where thou mayst rest in safety.'

So Lemminkainen gave his promise, on his honour, not to fight for sixty years, and then his mother told him how to find the isle of refuge. He must sail across nine seas and in the middle of the tenth he would come to the island, where his father had once taken refuge long before. There he must stay until the third year was come, and then he might return to his home.

Lemminkainen took enough provisions in his boat for a long journey, and then bidding farewell to his mother and his home he sailed away. When he had raised the linen sails, he called up a fair wind to drive him onward, and for three months he sailed on without a moment's rest, until at length he reached the magic Isle of Refuge.

First, he asked the people of the island if there was room there for his boat, and on receiving their consent he drew it up out of the water. Next he asked them if he might take refuge and conceal himself there, and they granted this too; but when he asked for a little ground to cultivate, and a place in the forest to cut down the trees, they told him that the whole island had long ago been divided up amongst them, and that he must live in one of their houses if he wished to stay on the island.

But Lemminkainen was not satisfied with this, and told them that he only wished to be allowed to go into the forest and sing some few magic songs there, and this they willingly allowed him to do. So he went into the forest and began to sing the most wondrous spells, making oak-trees to grow up around him, and on each branch an acorn, and on each acorn sat a cuckoo. Then the cuckoos began to sing, and gold fell from every beak, and silver from their wings, and copper from their feathers, until the isle was abundantly supplied with precious metals. Then Lemminkainen sang again, and turned the sand to gems and the pebbles into pearls, and he covered the whole island with flowers, and made little lakes with gold and silver ducks swimming in them, until every one was delighted, and the maidens most of all.

Then Ahti said: 'If I were in a fine castle I would conjure up the most wonderful feasts and sing the grandest songs you have ever heard.' No sooner had he said this than they led him to their finest castle, and there he conjured up a splendid feast, with knives and forks and all the dishes made of gold and silver. From this time on Ahti was treated as an honoured guest, and spent his time most delightfully. In every village on the island were seven castles, and in each castle were seven daughters, and all of these made Lemminkainen welcome as he went from one to another according to his fancy. Thus he spent the whole of his years of exile; but there was one maid, old and ugly, and living in a remote village, whom he neglected.

At length the time of his return was come, and he made up his mind to leave. But just as he had decided to go, the maid whom he had neglected came to him and bade him beware, for she was going to take revenge for his slighting her; but Lemminkainen scarcely heard her, for he was so busy thinking about his journey home. But the maiden went around to all the men of the island, and told them evil stories about Lemminkainen, and then she went and burned his boat.

The next morning Lemminkainen started off to bid his friends the maidens farewell, but he had not gone far before he saw the men getting their weapons ready to come and attack him, and he saw that he must fly immediately if he wished to escape alive. So he hastened down to his boat, but when he reached it there were only the ashes left. At first he did not know what to do, but he spied seven broken pieces of planks and a few fragments from a broken distaff, and taking these he began to sing some mystic spells over them. No sooner had he finished his incantations than a magic boat stood ready before him, and he got into it and sailed away. But before he was far from the shore all the maidens came down to the beach and began to weep and beg him to come back and dwell with them for ever. But Lemminkainen answered them that he felt a great longing to see his home once more and his mother, yet that he was truly sorrowful to leave them, but it must be so. And so he sailed on until the isle was out of sight.

The boat sailed on and on for two days and nights, but on the third day came a mighty storm-wind, and tossed the vessel about until it broke all in pieces, and left Lemminkainen struggling in the waters. He swam for long days and nights, struggling with the waves, until at length he reached a rocky point projecting out into the ocean. There he landed and soon found his way to a castle that was built upon the rocks. He told the mistress of the castle how he had been in the water for days and days, and was almost perishing from hunger, and she, being a kind-hearted woman, gave him a splendid feast of bread and butter, veal and bacon, and fish and honey-cakes, and when he had eaten that and rested, she gave him a new boat, loaded with provisions, in which to finish his journey.

So off he sailed again, and after many weary days of sailing he at length reached his beloved island-home. But when he landed and went up to where the house had stood, there was not a sign of anything left. The whole place was all overgrown with trees and bushes.

Then Lemminkainen sat down and began to weep; but it was not for the loss of his home and all his riches that he wept but for his beloved mother. As he sat there he caught sight of an eagle flying in the air above, and Ahti asked him if he knew what had happened to his mother. But the eagle could only tell him that his people had all perished long go. Next he asked the raven, and the raven told him that his people had been killed by his enemies from Pohjola.

On hearing this Lemminkainen began again to mourn her loss, and to look about for some dear relic that he might keep in remembrance of her. But as he looked he suddenly came on a faint pathway leading away from the house, and on it he saw the prints of light feet. He began to follow it eagerly, over hill and valley until he reached the gloomy forest. There it led him to a hidden glade, right in the middle of the island, and there he found a humble cabin, and his gray-haired mother weeping in it.

Ahti cried aloud for joy at the sight of her, and then he told her how he had mourned her as dead. She asked him in return how he had spent those years on the Isle of Refuge, and he told her all; how charming the life there was, and how he had enjoyed himself there, but that at the end all the men of the isle had come to hate him, because the maidens admired him so much, and how through their jealousy and the hatred of the one maid whom he had neglected, he had nearly lost his life. And when he had ended his story they both gave thanks to great Ukko that they had found each other again.



THE FROST-FIEND

When the next day began to dawn, Lemminkainen went to the beach, that was hidden behind a projecting point, where his vessels lay. He found them still there, but as he approached he heard the rigging wailing in the wind, and saying: 'Must we lie here for ever and rot, since Ahti has sworn not to go to war for sixty long years?'

Then Lemminkainen cried out to his vessels: 'Mourn no more, my good warships, for soon ye shall be filled with warriors and hastening to the battle.' When he had uttered these words he hurried back to his mother and bade her sorrow no longer over the insult that the Pohjola warriors had offered to her, for he was going now to make war on them in order to punish them for it.

His mother, when she heard his intention, besought him earnestly not to go to war and break his oath to her, for some great misfortune would surely come upon him. But he paid no heed to her, and went to seek his friend Kura to accompany him on his expedition. When he came to the isle on which Kura lived, he went up to the house and said: 'O my dear friend Kura, dost thou not remember the time when we fought together long ago against the men of dismal Northland? Come with me now and be my companion in another war against them.'

Now Kura's father was sitting by the window, whittling out a javelin, and his mother was near the door skimming milk, and his brother and sisters were also working near by. And all of them cried out that Kura could not go to war, for he was but lately married, and they bade Lemminkainen leave him.

But Kura himself jumped up from where he was lying before the fire, and began to put on his armour in great haste. On his helmet were wolves of bronze, and a horse on each javelin. Then Kura took his mighty spear, and going forth into the court he hurled it towards the north; and it flew on and on, whistling through the air, until at length it fell upon the earth of the distant Northland. And after this Kura touched his javelin against Lemminkainen's spear and promised to be his faithful comrade in the expedition. So the two great warriors made all needful preparation and set forth to sail to dismal Pohjola.

But Louhi knew by magic art that they were coming, and she called the Black-frost to her, and gave him these commands: 'Hasten forth, O Black-frost, and freeze all the wide sea. Freeze Lemminkainen's vessel fast in the ice, and freeze the magician himself in his vessel, so that he may never more awaken from his icy sleep until I myself may choose to free him.'

So the Black-frost hastened off to do her bidding. And first he stripped the leaves off the trees and took all the colour from the flowers on his way to the seashore. When he reached the shore, the first night he froze all the rivers that empty into the sea and the waters along the shore, but he did not touch the open sea that night. But on the second night he froze all the sea, and the ice kept growing thicker and thicker all around Lemminkainen's vessel, until at last the Black-frost even began to freeze Lemminkainen's hands and feet and ears.

But when Lemminkainen felt this he began to sing an incantation against the Black-frost, saying: 'Black-frost, evil child of the Northland and only son of Winter, thou mayst freeze the trees and waters and the very stones,—but let me be in peace. Freeze the iron mountains till they burst in sunder; freeze Wuoksi and Imatra, but do not try to harm me, for I will sing thine origin and make thee powerless. For thou wert born on the borders of the ever-dismal Northland, and wert fed by crawling snakes. The Northwind rocked thee to sleep in the marshes, and thus thou grew, a thing of evil, and at last the name of Frost was given thee. And as thou became larger, thou didst learn to rend the trees in winter and to cover all the lakes with ice. But if thou wilt not leave me now, I will cast thee into Lempo's fiery hearth, and will lay thee on the anvil, that Ilmarinen may pound thee to pieces with his mighty hammer.'

Now the Frost-fiend knew how great a magician Lemminkainen was, and therefore he agreed that he would leave the two warriors unharmed, but keep their ship frozen up as it was. And so Ahti and Kura had to leave their vessel and journey over the ice to land. At length they reached the country called Starvation-land, and there they found a house, but there was no food in it. So they went on still farther, over hill and valley, and as they went, Lemminkainen gathered soft moss from the tree-trunks and made stockings of it to keep their feet warm.

On and on they went, seeking for some pathway to guide them, but all was one snow-covered wilderness. Then Kura said: 'Alas, O Ahti; we came hither to take vengeance on the men of Pohjola, but I fear that we shall leave our own bones here, and our flesh be food for eagles and ravens. We shall never learn the pathway that can guide us to our homes. My poor mother will never know what has become of me—whether I have perished in the heat of battle, or on some lonely hill, or in some dismal forest. She can only mourn me as one dead, and sit and weep bitter tears.'

Then Lemminkainen said: 'My aged mother, think of our former happy days, when all went well and all was joy and happiness. But now sorrow and misfortune are come upon me, yet shall we not despair; for we are young and strong, and will give way neither to hunger nor to evil sorcerers, but will use the prayer my father used to pray, saying: "Guard us, O thou great Creator; shield us in thine arms, and give us of thy wisdom. Be our guardian and our Father, that thy children may not wander from the path which thou hast given them."'

Then when Lemminkainen had finished speaking, he took his cares and made fleet coursers of them, and the reins he made of days of evil, and from his pains he made the saddles. Then he and Kura galloped off each to his own home, and thus Lemminkainen was once more returned to his aged mother's arms. Now let us leave him there, and Kura with his bride and kinsfolk, and speak hereafter of other heroes.

* * * * *

Thus Father Mikko ended, adding: 'And I think we must stop now for the night, for it is getting late.' Then they had supper, and it was not long before all of them had gone to bed and were sound asleep.

Early the next morning they were all awakened by a dull thud and a smothered shout. Erik and Father Mikko jumped up and lit a lantern, and then hurried to the door, which stood open. They had dug a passage-way out through the snow the day before, and they saw that the walls of snow had just caved in, and sticking out of the middle of the heap was a pair of small legs waving about wildly in the air.

The next minute they had pulled out the owner of the legs, and little Antero stood before them, looking very much frightened and very foolish too. He had his snow-shoes and some meat with him, and managed to explain, between his sobs, that he had intended to go and hunt for reindeer in Lapland, the way Lemminkainen did in the story, but his snow-shoe had caught in the wall and disaster had overtaken him. The would-be hero was promptly taken in charge by Mother Stina, and soon all was quiet again.

When they went out the next morning, they found that the snow had long since stopped, but the wind was blowing so hard and it was so bitterly cold, that Father Mikko was easily persuaded to stay another day.

After dinner they settled down exactly as the day before, Mimi in 'Pappa' Mikko's lap again, and in a few minutes he began to tell them some more of his wonderful stories.

'I will tell you about some one you have not heard of yet,' Father Mikko said; 'about Kullervo, though I am sure you will none of you like Kullervo himself—but yet the story itself may be interesting.' So he began.



KULLERVO'S BIRTH

Many ages ago there was a mother who had three sons, and one of them grew up to be a prosperous merchant, but the other two were carried off—one to distant Pohjola and one to Karjala. And the one in Pohjola was named Untamo, but the one in Karjala was called Kalerwoinen.

One day Untamo set his nets near Kalerwoinen's home to catch salmon, but in the evening Kalerwoinen came by and took all the fish out of the nets and carried them off home. When Untamo found it out he went to his brother, and soon they fell to blows; but neither could conquer the other, though they gave one another sound beatings. After this had happened, Kalerwoinen sowed some barley near Untamo's barns; and Untamo's sheep broke into the field and ate the barley, and then Kalerwoinen's dog killed the sheep. This made Untamo so angry that he collected a great army and marched against his brother to put him and all his tribe to death. And when they reached Kalerwoinen's home they burned all the houses and killed every one except Kalerwoinen's daughter Untamala.

Now not long after this a child was born to Untamala, and she named him Kullervo. Then they laid the fatherless infant in the cradle and began to rock him, but he began at once to make the cradle rock without assistance, and he rocked for three whole days, so hard that his hair stood quite on end. On the third day he began to kick until he had burst his swaddling clothes, and then he crept out of the cradle and broke that also in pieces. When Kullervo was only three months old he began to speak, and the first words which he uttered were these: 'When I have grown big and strong I will avenge the murder of my grandfather Kalerwoinen and his people.'

At this Untamo was greatly alarmed, and took counsel with his people as to what should be done with the child. At length they hit upon a plan. They took the child and bound him firmly in a willow basket and then put him in the lake among the bulrushes. After three days had passed they went to see if he were dead, but he had broken loose from the basket and was sitting on the waves, fishing with a copper rod and a golden line; so they took him back again to the house. Next Untamo ordered a great heap of dried brushwood to be collected together, and a pile was made higher than the tree-tops; on the top of this they set the boy and then set fire to the pile. It burned three whole days, and then Untamo sent men to see if the child was dead; but they found him sitting in the middle of the fire raking the coals together with a copper rod, and not a hair of his head was even singed.

Then they took him home and considered again how they should kill him, and this time they took him and crucified him on an oak-tree. And on the third day they came and found that he had painted an armed warrior on every leaf, made fast though he was to the tree, and so they took him down and brought him home again. This time they saw that they could not harm him, so Untamo told him that he would take him as a servant, and that if he did well he should be paid well.

When Kullervo had grown a little, he was set to take care of a baby, and was given very careful instructions as to how to rock it and attend to all its wants; but the cruel Kullervo treated it harshly, and in the evening killed it and burned the cradle in the fire. So Untamo was afraid to give him any further employment about the house, but bade him go out and cut down the forest on the mountain side. Then Kullervo went to the smith and bade him make a huge axe of copper, and when it was ready he spent one day in sharpening it and another in making the handle, and then hastened off to the forest. There he chose the biggest tree on all the mountain side and felled it at one blow. Six more huge trees were cut down just as easily, but then Kullervo grew disgusted with the work, and pronounced a curse over the whole mountain, and stopped working.

So when Untamo came in the evening to see how he was getting on, and found only seven trees felled, he saw that he must set Kullervo to some other task. The next day, therefore, he took him into a field and bade him build a fence round it. As soon as Untamo was gone, Kullervo set to work, using whole trees and raising the fence higher than the clouds; and when he had finished there was no gate to enter by, and the fence was so high that no one could climb over it. When Untamo came and saw what he had done, and that no one could now get into the field, he told Kullervo that he was unfitted for such work, and must go and thresh the rye and barley.

Then Kullervo made a flail and set to work. And he threshed so hard that all the grain was beaten to powder and the straw was broken up into useless pieces. But when Untamo saw this, he grew very angry, and cried out that Kullervo was a wretched workman who spoiled whatever he touched, and the next day he took him off and sold him to the blacksmith Ilmarinen in distant Karjala. And the price Ilmarinen paid was three old worn-out kettles, seven worthless sickles, and three old scythes and hoes and axes, surely quite enough for such a fellow as Kullervo.



KULLERVO AND ILMARINEN'S WIFE

As soon as the purchase was completed, Kullervo asked Ilmarinen and his wife to give him some work for the next day. So they decided to make him a shepherd. But the wife, once the Rainbow-maiden, did not like the new servant, so she baked him a cheat-loaf—a very thick loaf, half of barley, half of oatmeal, and with a great flint-stone in the centre, and around the flint-stone was melted butter. Then she gave it to Kullervo and told him not to eat it until he was out on the pasture-ground.

The next morning Ilmarinen's wife showed Kullervo the cattle, and bade him take them to the open glades among the forests, where they would find food in abundance. Then she addressed a prayer to Ukko that he would guard the flock in case the shepherd should neglect them. And she sought the aid too of all the goddesses of the forest and the daughters of summer and the spirits of the fountains and the brooks, to care for her cattle and watch over them. And she also sang a spell to keep away the bear from coming and devouring them. And when all these prayers and spells were ended she sent Kullervo off with the herds.

Kullervo drove them off to their pastures in the woods, carrying his lunch in a basket on his arm. And as he walked he sang of his hard lot as a slave, and how he was given only the scraps and crusts to eat, while his master and mistress fed on honey-cakes and wheaten biscuit. At length the time came for him to eat his luncheon, and he sat down and drew the cheat-loaf from the basket. But instead of eating it at once he turned it carefully over and over in his hands, and thought: 'Many loaves are fine to look at on the outside, but are nothing but chaff inside,' and he drew out his knife to try the loaf.

This knife was the one thing that his mother had kept of all her father's possessions, and Kullervo looked upon it as something sacred. Now as he plunged it into the cheat-loaf it hit right upon the hard flint in the centre and broke in several pieces. Then Kullervo sat down and began to weep over his loss, and to ponder how he should revenge it. But a raven was sitting in a tree near by and overhead him talking to himself, and the raven said: 'Why art thou so distressed, Kullervo? Drive the herd away, one half to the wolves' and the other half to the bears' dens, so that they may all be devoured. And then when it is time to return home call together the wolves and bears and make them look like cattle, by thy magic art, and drive them home for thy mistress to milk. Thus thou wilt repay this insult.'

At these words Kullervo jumped up and did as the raven had said. And when the sun was setting in the west, Kullervo hastened homeward, driving bears and wolves before him, but by a magic spell he made them look like cattle. And as he went, he said to them: 'Seize my hateful mistress when she comes to milk the cattle, and tear and rend her in pieces.' And he took a cow-horn and made a bugle of it and blew till the hills rang, to announce his return.

When he reached the cow-yard, Ilmarinen's wife greeted him joyfully, for it was late and she had feared that something had happened. And she told her oldest maid-servant to go and milk the cows as she herself was busy. But Kullervo said: 'Thou shouldst go thyself, for the cows are in better condition to-night than they have ever been before.' And so she went, and when she saw them she cried out in wonder: 'Truly my cattle are beautiful to-night, for their hair glistens like the fur of lynxes, and is soft as ermine skin.'

With these words she seated herself to begin milking, but all at once the wolves and bears appeared in their true shapes and began to tear her to pieces. Then she cried out to Kullervo, when she saw what he had done, but he answered: 'If I have done evil thou hast done still greater evil, for thou hast baked a stone inside my bread, and I have broken on it my knife, the only relic of my mother's people.'

Then Ilmarinen's wife began to beg him to aid her, and promised him the best of everything to eat, and that he should never have to work again. But Kullervo would not listen to her prayers, but rejoiced at her agony, and then the wolves and bears made one more onset, and she fell and died. Such was the end of the beauteous Rainbow-maiden, for whom so many had wooed, and who had become the pride and joy of Kalevala.



KULLERVO'S LIFE AND DEATH

Then Kullervo hastened off, before Ilmarinen should come home and find out what had happened. And after he was at a safe distance he began to play upon the bugle he had made, until Ilmarinen ran out of his smithy to see who it could be, and there before him in the courtyard Ilmarinen saw the body of his wife and learned what had happened: and he sat down and wept bitterly, for all the joy of his life was now gone from him.

But Kullervo hastened on, and as he went he mourned his hard lot. When he had gone a little way he met an old witch on the road, and she asked him whither he was going. 'I shall journey to the dismal Northland,' answered Kullervo, 'there to slay the wicked Untamo, who has killed all my kinsfolk.' Then the witch said: 'Thou art wrong, for thy father and thy sisters escaped from Untamo's wrath, and now thy mother has joined them and they are living happily together on the distant borders of Kalevala.' And when Kullervo begged her to tell him the way to them she did so, and he hastened off to find them.

At length he reached his parents' abode, but at first they did not recognise him. But when he spoke to his mother she knew him at once, and embraced him and kissed him, and made him welcome in his new home. And then they related to one another all that had happened in the years they had been apart, and his mother ended by saying: 'Praised be Ukko that thou hast come back to us; but there is yet one absent one—thy eldest sister strayed away many years ago, hunting berries on the hills, and we have never seen or heard of her since.'

So Kullervo settled down to live with his parents, and began to work with the others. The first day they all went out to fish for salmon, and Kullervo was put at the oars to row their boat. Then he asked whether he should row with all his strength, or only a little part of it, and they told him that he could not pull too hard. So he put forth all his giant's strength, and in a minute the boat was all broken to pieces.

His father said: 'I see that thou art too clumsy to row; perhaps thou wilt do better to drive the salmon into the nets.' And Kullervo asked again whether he should use all his strength, and he received the same answer as before. So he set to work beating the water to scare the fish into the net; but he beat so hard that he mixed all the mud on the bottom with the water, and pounded the salmon all to pulp and destroyed all the nets.

Then his father saw that he was not fit for such work, so he sent him off to pay the yearly taxes. Kullervo did so, and after he had paid them he started off in his sledge to drive home again. He had not driven far when he met a lovely maiden, whom he asked to get into his sledge and come with him to his home and marry him. But she made fun of him, and he drove off in anger. When he had driven still farther he met another maiden, still more lovely than the first, and this one he at length persuaded to get into his sledge and come home with him and marry him. But when they had driven along for two days towards his home, the maiden asked him about his kinsfolk, and he told her that he was Kalervo's son.

No sooner had the maiden heard this than she gave a great cry of anguish and cried out: 'Alas, then, thou art my brother! For I am Kalervo's daughter, who wandered off one day to pick berries and never returned,' and with these words she jumped from the sledge and hastened weeping to a river near by. There she plunged beneath the icy waters and was never seen again alive, but her lifeless body floated down to the black river of Tuoni.

But Kullervo unharnessed his steed from the sledge and galloped off home and there related to his mother all that had occurred, and how he had unknowingly been the cause of his sister's death, and when he had finished his story, he added: 'Woe is me that I did not die long ago. But now I must hasten off to gloomy Pohjola, there to slay the wicked Untamo, and myself be also slain.' Having said this he also made ready his armour and ground his broadsword until it was as sharp as a razor. But before he went, he asked his father and brother and sister and mother if they would grieve when they heard of his death. And all but his mother told him that they would never sorrow over the death of such an evil fellow. But his mother alone said that, in spite of all the evil he had done, her mother's love was still strong and that she would weep over him for years to come.

Thereupon Kullervo went forth on his journey to the icy Northland, but before he had gone far a messenger came and told him that his father was dead and asked Kullervo to come back and help bury him, but he would not come. And a little later he was told of the death of his brother and then of his sister, and last of all of his mother. Still he refused to come to bury any of them, only, when the news of his mother's death reached him, he mourned that he had not been with her in her last moments, and bade the servants bury her with every possible honour and respect.

Now as he neared the home of Untamo's tribe, he prayed to Ukko to endow his sword with magic powers, so that Untamo and all his people might be surely slain. And Ukko did as he had asked, and with the magic sword Kullervo slew, single-handed, all Untamo's people, and burned all their villages to ashes, leaving behind him only dead bodies and smoking ruins.

Then he hastened home, and found that it was only too true that all his family had died while he was away; and he went out to his mother's grave and wept over it. But as he wept, his mother spoke to him from the grave and bade him let their old dog lead him into the forest to the home of the wood-nymphs, who would care for him. So Kullervo set off, led by the faithful dog. But on the way they came to the grassy mound where Kullervo had met his long-lost sister, and there he found that even the grass and the flowers and the trees were weeping. Suddenly overcome with sorrow, he drew forth his magic sword from out its scabbard, and, bidding a last farewell to all the world, he thrust the handle firmly into the earth and threw himself upon the sword-point, so that it pierced his heart. Thus ended the evil life of Kullervo.

* * * * *

They were all silent for a moment when the sad story of Kullervo's life and death was ended, and then Mimi said: 'I wish you'd tell us about nice men like Ilmarinen and Wainamoinen, Pappa Mikko; Kullervo was real hateful.'

'Well, then, I will tell you of what Ilmarinen did when he had lost his wife, the Rainbow-maiden,'—and the old man began.



ILMARINEN'S BRIDE OF GOLD

After Ilmarinen's wife had been so cruelly slain, he wept for three whole days and nights without ceasing. And after that for three months he did not go into his smithy nor even so much as lift his hammer from the ground. And as he mourned he cried: 'Woe is me, for all is weariness and sorrow now that my dear wife is slain, and there is no more rest for me in my home.'

But after the three months of mourning were past, Ilmarinen went out and dug up a great quantity of gold and silver and cut down thirty sledge-loads of birch-trees, which he burnt to charcoal. Then he put the charcoal in the bottom of his furnace and laid a large piece of gold and a still larger piece of silver on top, and closing the furnace, he started the fire and set the workmen to blowing the bellows; but the men were lazy and let the fire go out. So Ilmarinen drove them all away and began to blow the fire by magic spells alone. Three days he worked the bellows by his magic spells, and on the evening of the third day he looked inside the furnace, hoping to see an image rising from the melted gold and silver. And there came forth a lovely lamb all gold and silver, and every one admired its beauty save Ilmarinen, who said: 'Get back into the furnace, for I only desire a beauteous bride, born of the melted gold and silver.'