Chapter I: Part 1

THE CHILDREN'S LIBRARY

FINNISH LEGENDS

_THE CHILDREN'S LIBRARY._

THE BROWN OWL. THE CHINA CUP. STORIES FROM FAIRYLAND. TALES FROM THE MABINOGION. THE STORY OF A PUPPET. THE LITTLE PRINCESS. IRISH FAIRY TALES. AN ENCHANTED GARDEN. LA BELLE NIVERNAISE. THE FEATHER. FINN AND HIS COMPANIONS. NUTCRACKER AND MOUSE-KING. THE PENTAMERONE. FINNISH LEGENDS.

(_Others in the Press._)

FINNISH LEGENDS FOR ENGLISH CHILDREN

BY R. EIVIND

_SEVEN ILLUSTRATIONS_

LONDON T. FISHER UNWIN 1893

PREFACE

The following stories cover almost all of the songs of the Kalevala, the epic of the Finnish people. They will lead the English child into a new region in the fairy world, yet one where he will recognise many an old friend in a new form. The very fact that they _do_ open up a new portion of the world of the marvellous, will, it is hoped, render them all the more acceptable, and perhaps, when the child who reads them grows up to manhood, will inspire an actual interest in the race that has composed them.

And this race and their land will repay study, for nowhere will one find a more beautiful land than Finland, nor a braver, truer, and more liberty-loving people than the Finns, although, alas, their love for liberty may soon be reduced to an apparently hopeless longing for a lost ideal. For the iron hand of Russian despotism has already begun to close on Finland with its relentless grasp, and, in spite of former oaths and promises from the Russian Tsars, the future of Finland looks blacker and blacker as time goes on. Yet it is often the unforeseen that happens, and let us trust that this may be so in Finland's case, and that a brighter future may soon dawn, and the dark clouds that now are threatening may be once more dispersed.

* * * * *

In these stories Mr. T. M. Crawford's metrical translation of the Kalevala has been quite closely followed, even to the adoption of his Anglicised, or rather Anglo-Swedish, forms for proper names, though in some instances the original Finnish form has been reverted to. This was done reluctantly, but the actual Finnish forms would seem formidable to children in many instances, and would probably be pronounced even farther from the original than as they are given here. It is to be hoped, moreover, that those who may now read these stories will later on read an actual translation of the Kalevala, and this is an additional reason for adopting the terminology of the only English translation as yet made.[1]

[1] A Finnish newspaper recently states that Mr. C. is now at work on an improved translation.

As this book is only intended for children, it would be out of place to discuss the age, etc., of the Kalevala. Only it would seem proper to state, that while the incantations and some other portions of the text are certainly very old, some of them no doubt dating from a period prior to the separation of the Finns and Hungarians, yet, as Professor Yrjö Koskinen remarks, "The Kalevala in its present state is without doubt the work of the _Karelian_ tribe of Finns, and probably dates from _after_ their arrival in Northern and North-Western Russia." This will of itself largely justify the making _Kalevala_ synonymous with the present _Finland_, _Pohjola_ with the present Lapland, Karjala with the present _Karjala_ (Anglice, _Karelia_) in South-Eastern Finland, etc. But even if this were not so, yet the advantage of such localisation in a book for children is of itself obvious.

As the land and people with which the stories are concerned is so unknown to English children, it has seemed best to have some sort of introduction and framework in which to present them, and therefore "Father Mikko" was chosen as the story-teller.

If this little volume may in any degree awake some interest in the Finnish people its author will be amply satisfied, and its end will have been attained.

R. EIVIND.

_April 1893._

CONTENTS

PAGE
FATHER MIKKO 1

THE WORLD'S CREATION AND THE BIRTH
OF WAINAMOINEN 8

THE PLANTING OF THE TREES 11

WAINAMOINEN AND YOUKAHAINEN 15

AINO'S FATE 21

WAINAMOINEN'S SEARCH FOR AINO 28

WAINAMOINEN'S UNLUCKY JOURNEY 32

WAINAMOINEN'S RESCUE 36

THE RAINBOW-MAIDEN 41

ILMARINEN FORGES THE SAMPO 50

LEMMINKAINEN AND KYLLIKKI 59

KYLLIKKI'S BROKEN VOW 64

LEMMINKAINEN'S SECOND WOOING 69

LEMMINKAINEN'S DEATH 73

LEMMINKAINEN'S RESTORATION 77

WAINAMOINEN'S BOAT-BUILDING 86

WAINAMOINEN FINDS THE LOST WORDS 93

THE RIVAL SUITORS 99

ILMARINEN'S WOOING 106

THE BREWING OF BEER 111

ILMARINEN'S WEDDING FEAST 118

THE ORIGIN OF THE SERPENT 124

THE UNWELCOME GUEST 131

THE ISLE OF REFUGE 136

THE FROST-FIEND 144

KULLERVO'S BIRTH 151

KULLERVO AND ILMARINEN'S WIFE 156

KULLERVO'S LIFE AND DEATH 160

ILMARINEN'S BRIDE OF GOLD 166

ILMARINEN'S FRUITLESS WOOING 170

WAINAMOINEN'S EXPEDITION AND THE
BIRTH OF THE KANTELE (HARP) 173

THE CAPTURE OF THE SAMPO 181

THE SAMPO IS LOST IN THE SEA 186

THE BIRTH OF THE SECOND KANTELE 190

LOUHI ATTEMPTS REVENGE 194

LOUHI STEALS THE SUN, THE MOON, AND
FIRE 199

THE RESTORATION OF THE SUN AND MOON 205

MARIATTA AND WAINAMOINEN'S DEPARTURE 210

TABLE OF PROPER NAMES WITH PRONUNCIATION

_Ahti_ (ach´-tee). Another name for Lemminkainen.

_Ahto_ (ach´-to). God of the sea.

_Ainikki_ (aë´nik-kee). Sister of Lemminkainen.

_Aino_ (aë´no). Sister of Youkahainen.

_Annikki_ (an´-nik-kee). Sister of Ilmarinen.

_Hisi_ (hee´-see). Evil spirit; also called Lempo.

_Iku Turso_ (ee´-koo-tur´-so). A sea-monster.

_Ilmarinen_ (il´-ma-ree´-nen). The famous smith.

_Ilmatar_ (il´-ma-tar). A daughter of the ether, mother of
Wainamoinen.

_Imatra_ (ee´-ma-tra). Celebrated waterfall on the river Wuoksi,
near Viborg.

_Kalerwoinen_ (kal´-er-woi´-nen) (_or_ Kalervo). Father of Kullervo.

_Kalevala_ (ka´-lay-va´-la). The land of heroes. The home of
the Finns. The name of the Finnish epic poem.

_Karjala_ (kar´-ya-la). The home of a Finnish tribe--a portion of
Finland (called also _Karelen_ in Swedish).

_Kullervo_ (kul´-ler-vo). Slayer of the Rainbow-maiden.

_Kura_ (ku´-ra). Ahti's companion to the Northland.

_Lakko_ (lak´-ko). Ilmarinen's mother.

_Lemminkainen_ (lem´-min-kaë´-nen). Also called _Ahti_. Son of
_Lempo_.

_Lempo_ (lem´-po). Same as _Hisi_; also the father of Lemminkainen.

_Louhi_ (loo´-chee). Mistress of Pohjola.

_Lowjatar_ (low´-ya-tar). Tuoni's daughter; mother of the nine
diseases.

_Lylikki_ (ly´-lik-kee). Maker of snow-shoes in Pohjola.

_Mana_ (ma´-na). Also called Tuoni; god of death.

_Manala_ (ma´-na-la). Also called Tuonela; the abode of Mana;
the Deathland.

_Mariatta_ (Mar´-iat´-ta). The virgin mother of Wainamoinen's
conqueror.

_Mielikki_ (meay´-lik-kee). The forest-goddess.

_Osmotar_ (os´-mo-tar). The wise maiden who first made beer.

_Otso_ (ot´-so). The bear.

_Piltti_ (pilt´-tee). Mariatta's maid-servant.

_Pohjola_ (poch´-yo-la). The Northland.

_Ruotus_ (ru-o´-tus). A man who gives Mariatta shelter in his
stable.

_Sampo_ (sam´-po). The magic mill forged by Ilmarinen, which
brought wealth and happiness to its possessor.

_Suonetar_ (swo´-ne-tar). The goddess of the veins.

_Suoyatar_ (swo´-ya-tar). The mother of the serpent.

_Tapio_ (ta´-pe-o). The forest-god.

_Tuonela_ (tuo´-nay-la). The abode of Tuoni; the Deathland; Manala.

_Tuonetar_ (tuo´-nay-tar). The goddess of Tuonela.

_Tuoni_ (tuo´-nee). The god of the Deathland; Mana.

_Ukko_ (uk´-k(o). The greatest god of the Finns.

_Untamo_ (un´-ta-mo). Kalervo's brother.

_Wainamoinen_ (waë´-na-moy´-nen). The chief hero of the
Kalevala; son of Kapé.

_Wipunen_ (wi´-pu-nen). The dead magician from whom Wainamoinen
obtained the three lost words.

_Wirokannas_ (wee´-ro-kan´-nas). The priest who baptized
Mariatta's son.

_Wuoksi_ (wuok´-see). A river in South-Eastern Finland, connecting
Lakes Saima and Ladoga.

_Youkahainen_ (yoo´-ka-chaë´-nen). A great minstrel and magician
of Pohjola.

* * * * *

Remarks.--The Finnish _h_ is pronounced as a guttural; nearly as Ger. _ch_ in _ich_. This is represented by _ch_ in the above list.

Every vowel should be pronounced by itself--not run together so as to make a totally different resultant sound, _e.g._ _Aino_ should be pronounced not _i-no_, but _a´-ee-no_, the _a_ and _ee_ being close together, with the greatest stress upon the _a_, etc.

_i_ corresponds to English _y_ in _year_.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

FINNISH KOTA _Frontispiece_

SLEIGHING IN FINLAND _Facing page_ 7

INTERIOR OF LAPP HUT " 37

A LAPLAND WIZARD " 93

LAPP WOMEN IN HOLIDAY COSTUME " 118

MIMI IN HOLIDAY DRESS " 151

A WATERFALL " 181

FATHER MIKKO

Far up in the ice-bound north, where the sun is almost invisible in winter, and where the summer nights are bright as day, there lies a land which we call Finland; but the people who live there call it _Suomenmaa_ now, and long, long ago they used to call it _Kalevala_ (which means the _land of heroes_). And north of Finland lies Lapland, which the Finns now call _Lappi_, but in the olden days they called it Pohjola (that is, _Northland_). There the night lasts for whole weeks and months about Christmas, and in the summer again they have no night at all for many weeks. For more than half the year their country is wrapped in snow and frost, and yet they are both of them a kind-hearted people, and among the most honest and truthful in the world.

* * * * *

One dark winter's day an old man was driving in a sledge through the fir forest in the northern part of Finland. He was so well wrapped up in sheep-skin robes that he looked more like a huge bundle of rugs, with a cord round the middle, than anything else, and the great white sheep-skin cap which he wore hid all the upper part of his face, while the lower part was buried in the high collar of his coat. All one could see was a pair of bright blue eyes with frost-fringed eyelashes, blinking at the snow that was thrown up every now and then by his horse's feet.

He was a travelling merchant from away up in the north-western part of Russia, and had been in southern Finland to sell his wares, at the winter fairs that are held every year in the Finnish towns and villages. Now he was on his way home, and had come up through Kuopio, and had got on past Kajana already, but now it had just begun to snow, and as the storm grew worse, he pressed on to reach the cabin of a friend who lived not far ahead; and he intended to stay there until the storm should subside and the weather be fit for travelling once more.

It was not long before he reached the cabin, and getting out of his sledge slowly, being stiff from the cold and the cramped position, he knocked on the door with his whip-handle. It was opened at once, and he was invited in without even waiting to see who it was, and was given the welcome that is always given in that country to a wearied traveller. But when he had taken his wraps off there was a general cry of recognition, and a second even more hearty welcome.

'Welcome, Father Mikko!'

'What good fortune has brought you hither?'

'Come up to the fire,' and a chorus of cries from two little children, who greeted 'Pappa Mikko' with delight as an old and welcome acquaintance. Then the father of the family went out and attended to Father Mikko's horse and sledge, and in a few minutes was back again and joined the old man by the fire. Next his wife brought out the brandy-bottle and two glasses, and after her husband had filled them, he and Father Mikko drank each other's health very formally, for that is the first thing one must do when a guest comes in that country. You must touch your glass against your friend's, and say 'good health,' and raising it to your lips drink it straight off, and all the time you must look each other straight in the eyes.

When this important formality was finished the four members of the family and Father Mikko made themselves comfortable around the fire, and they began to ask him how things had prospered with him since they had seen him last, and to tell him about themselves--how Erik, the father of the family, had been sick, and the harvest had been extra good that year, and one of the cows had a calf, and all the things that happen to people in the country.

And then he told them of what was going on in the towns where he had been, and how every one was beginning to get ready for Christmas. And he turned to the two little children and told them about the children in the towns--how they had had such a lovely time at 'Little Christmas,'[2] at the house he was staying in. How the little ones had a tiny little tree with wee wax candles on it exactly like the big tree they were to have at Christmas, and how, when he left, all the children had begun to be impatient for Christmas Eve, with its presents and Christmas fish and porridge.

[2] A children's festival about one week before the real Christmas.

After the old man had ended his account it was dinner-time, and they all ate with splendid appetites, while Father Mikko declared that the herring and potatoes and rye-bread and beer made a far better dinner than any he had had in the big cities in the south--not even in Helsingfors had he had a better. Then when dinner was over, and they had all gathered round the fire again, little Mimi climbed up into 'Pappa Mikko's' lap, and begged him to tell them '_all_ the stories he had ever heard, from the very beginning of the world all the way down.' And her father and mother joined with her in her request, for in their land even the grown-up people have not become too grand to listen to stories. As for the little boy, Antero, he was too shy to say anything; but he was so much interested to hear 'Pappa Mikko' that he actually forgot to nibble away at a piece of candy which 'Pappa Mikko' had brought from St. Michel.

The old man smiled, for he was always asked for stories wherever he went--he was a famous story-teller--and, stroking little Mimi's hair gently, he looked at the group around the fire before replying. There was Erik, the father, a broad-shouldered man, with a dark, weather-beaten face and rather a sad look, as so many of his countrymen have. His face showed that his struggle in the world had not been easy, for he had to be working from the time he got up until he went to bed; and then when the harvest had been bad, and the winter much longer than usual, and everything seemed to go wrong--ah! it was so hard then to see the mother and the little ones have only bark-bread to eat, and not always enough of that, and one winter they had had nothing else for months. Erik wouldn't have minded for himself, but for them ...! Ah well, that was all over now; he had been able at last to save up a little sum of money, and the harvests were extra good this year, and he had bought Mother Stina a cloak for Christmas! Just think of it--a fine cloak, all the way from the fair at Kuopio!

And next to Erik sat his wife Stina, a short, fat little woman, with such a merry face and happy-looking eyes that you could hardly believe that she had lived on anything but the best herring and potatoes and rye-bread all her life. Close by her side was her little boy Antero, who was only seven years old, and in his eagerness for the stories to commence he still held his piece of candy in his hand without tasting it.

Then there was little Mimi in Father Mikko's lap. She was nearly ten years old, and was not a pretty little girl; but she had very lovely soft brown eyes and curly flaxen hair, and a quiet, demure manner of her own, and her mother declared that when she grew up she would be able to spin and weave and cook better than any other girl in the parish, and that the young man that should get her Mimi for a wife would get a real treasure.

And lastly, there was Father Mikko himself, an old man over sixty, yet strong and hearty, with a long gray beard and gray hair, and eyes that fairly twinkled with good humour. You could hardly see his mouth for his beard and moustache, and certainly his nose _was_ a little too small and turned up at the end to be exactly handsome, and his cheek-bones _did_ stand out a little too high; but yet everybody, young and old, liked him, and his famous stories made him a welcome guest wherever he came.

So Father Mikko lit his queer little pipe, and settled down comfortably with Mimi in his lap, and a glass of beer at his side to refresh himself with when he grew weary of talking. There was only the firelight in the room, and as the flames roared up the chimney they cast a warm, cosy light over the whole room, and made them all feel so comfortable that they thanked God in their hearts in their simple way, because they had so many blessings and comforts when such a storm was raging outside that it shook the house and drifted the snow up higher than the doors and windows.

Then Father Mikko began, and this is the first story that he told them.

* * * * *

THE WORLD'S CREATION AND THE BIRTH OF WAINAMOINEN

Long, long ago, before this world was made, there lived a lovely maiden called Ilmatar, the daughter of the Ether. She lived in the air--there were only air and water then--but at length she grew tired of always being in the air, and came down and floated on the surface of the water. Suddenly, as she lay there, there came a mighty storm-wind, and poor Ilmatar was tossed about helplessly on the waves, until at length the wind died down and the waves became still, and Ilmatar, worn out by the violence of the tempest, sank beneath the waters.

Then a magic spell overpowered her, and she swam on and on vainly seeking to rise above the waters, but always unable to do so. Seven hundred long weary years she swam thus, until one day she could not bear it any longer, and cried out: 'Woe is me that I have fallen from my happy home in the air, and cannot now rise above the surface of the waters. O great Ukko,[3] ruler of the skies, come and aid me in my sorrow!'

[3] The chief god of the Finns before they became Christians.

No sooner had she ended her appeal to Ukko than a lovely duck flew down out of the sky, and hovered over the waters looking for a place to alight; but it found none. Then Ilmatar raised her knees above the water, so that the duck might rest upon them; and no sooner did the duck spy them than it flew towards them and, without even stopping to rest, began to build a nest upon them.

When the nest was finished, the duck laid in it six golden eggs, and a seventh of iron, and sat upon them to hatch them. Three days the duck sat on the eggs, and all the while the water around Ilmatar's knees grew hotter and hotter, and her knees began to burn as if they were on fire. The pain was so great that it caused her to tremble all over, and her quivering shook the nest off her knees, and the eggs all fell to the bottom of the ocean and broke in pieces. But these pieces came together into two parts and grew to a huge size, and the upper one became the arched heavens above us, and the lower one our world itself. From the white part of the egg came the moonbeams, and from the yolk the bright sunshine.

At last the unfortunate Ilmatar was able to raise her head out of the waters, and she then began to create the land. Wherever she put her hand there arose a lovely hill, and where she stepped she made a lake. Where she dived below the surface are the deep places of the ocean, where she turned her head towards the land there grew deep bays and inlets, and where she floated on her back she made the hidden rocks and reefs where so many ships and lives have been lost. Thus the islands and the rocks and the firm land were created.

After the land was made Wainamoinen was born, but he was not born a child, but a full-grown man, full of wisdom and magic power. For seven whole years he swam about in the ocean, and in the eighth he left the water and stepped upon the dry land. Thus was the birth of Wainamoinen, the wonderful magician.

* * * * *

'Ah!' said little Mimi, with a sigh of relief, 'I was afraid you weren't going to tell us about Wainamoinen at all.'

And then Father Mikko went on again.

THE PLANTING OF THE TREES

Wainamoinen lived for many years upon the island on which he had first landed from the sea, pondering how he should plant the trees and make the mighty forests grow. At length he thought of Sampsa, the first-born son of the plains, and he sent for him to do the sowing. So Sampsa came and scattered abroad the seeds of all the trees and plants that are now on the earth,--firs and pine-trees on the hills, alders, lindens, and willows in the lowlands, and bushes and hawthorn in the secluded nooks.

Soon all the trees had grown up and become great forests, and the hawthorns were covered with berries. Only the acorn lay quiet in the ground and refused to sprout. Wainamoinen watched seven days and nights to see if it would begin to grow, but it lay perfectly still. Just then he saw ocean maidens on the shore, cutting grass and raking it into heaps. And as he watched them there came a great giant out of the sea and pressed the heaps into such tight bundles that the grass caught fire and burnt to ashes. Then the giant took an acorn and planted it in the ashes, and almost instantly it began to sprout, and a tree shot up and grew and grew until it became a mighty oak, whose top was far above the clouds, and whose branches shut out the light of the Sun and the Moon and the stars.

When Wainamoinen saw how the oak had shut off all the light from the earth, he was as deeply perplexed how to get rid of it, as he had been before to make it grow. So he prayed to his mother Ilmatar to grant him power to overthrow this mighty tree, so that the sun might shine once more on the plains of Kalevala.

No sooner had he asked Ilmatar for help than there stepped out of the sea a tiny man no bigger than one's finger, dressed in cap, gloves, and clothes of copper, and carrying a small copper hatchet in his belt. Wainamoinen asked him who he was, and the tiny man replied: 'I am a mighty ocean-hero, and am come to cut down the oak-tree.' But Wainamoinen began to laugh at the idea of so little a man being able to cut down so huge a tree.

But even while Wainamoinen was laughing, the dwarf grew all at once into a great giant, whose head was higher than the clouds, and whose long beard fell down to his knees. The giant began to whet his axe on a huge piece of rock, and before he had finished he had worn out six blocks of the hardest rock and seven of the softest sandstone. Then he strode up to the tree and began to cut it down. When the third blow had fallen the fire flew from his axe and from the tree; and before he had time to strike a fourth blow, the tree tottered and fell, covering the whole earth, north, south, east, and west, with broken fragments. And those who picked up pieces of the branches received good fortune; those who found pieces of the top became mighty magicians; and those who found the leaves gained lasting happiness.

And then the sunlight came once more to Kalevala, and all things grew and flourished, only the barley had not yet been planted. Now Wainamoinen had found seven magic barley-grains as he was wandering on the seashore one day, and he took these and was about to plant them; but the titmouse stopped him, saying: 'The magic barley will not grow unless thou first cut down and burn the forest, and then plant the seeds in the wood-ashes.'

So Wainamoinen cut down the trees as the titmouse had said, only he left the birch-trees standing. After all the rest were cut down an eagle flew down, and, alighting on a birch-tree, asked why all the others had been destroyed, but the birches left. And Wainamoinen answered that he had left them for the birds to build their nests on, and for the eagle to rest on, and for the sacred cuckoo to sit in and sing. The eagle was so pleased at this that he kindled a fire amongst the other trees for Wainamoinen, and they were all burnt except the birches.

Wainamoinen then brought forth the seven magic barley-seeds from his skin-pouch, and sowed them in the ashes, and as he sowed he prayed to great Ukko to send warm rains from the south to make the seeds sprout. And the rain came, and the barley grew so fast that in seven days the crop was almost ripe.

WAINAMOINEN AND YOUKAHAINEN

Thus Wainamoinen finished his labours and began to lead a happy life on the plains of Kalevala. He passed his evenings singing of the deeds of days gone by and stories of the creation, until his fame as a great singer spread far and wide in all directions.

At this time, far off in the dismal Northland, there lived a young and famous singer and magician named Youkahainen. He was sitting one day at a feast with his friends, when some one came and told about the famous singer Wainamoinen, and how he was a sweeter singer and a more powerful magician than any one else in the world. This filled Youkahainen's heart with envy, and he vowed to hasten off to the south and to enter into a contest with Wainamoinen to see if he could not beat him.

His mother tried to persuade him not to go, but in vain, and he made ready for the journey, declaring that he would sing such magic songs as would turn old Wainamoinen into stone. Then he brought out his noble steed and harnessed him to a golden sledge, and then jumping in, he gave the steed a cut with his pearl-handled whip, and dashed off towards Kalevala. On the evening of the third day he drew near to Wainamoinen's home, and there he met Wainamoinen himself driving along the highway.

Now Youkahainen was too proud to turn out of the road for any one, and so their sledges dashed together and were smashed to pieces, and the harnesses became all twisted up together. Then Wainamoinen said: 'Who art thou, O foolish youth, that thou drivest so badly that thou hast run into my sledge and broken it to pieces?' And Youkahainen answered proudly: 'I am Youkahainen, and have come hither to beat the old magician Wainamoinen in singing and in magic.'

Wainamoinen then told him who he was, and accepted the challenge, and so the contest began. But Youkahainen soon found that he was no match for his opponent, and at length he cried out in anger: 'If I cannot beat thee at singing and in magic, at least I can conquer thee with my bright sword.'

Wainamoinen answered that he would not fight so weak an opponent, and then Youkahainen declared that he was a coward and afraid to fight. At last these taunts made Wainamoinen so angry that he could not restrain himself any longer, and he began to sing. He sang such wondrous spells that the mountains and the rocks began to tremble, and the sea was upheaved as if by a great storm. Youkahainen stood transfixed, and as Wainamoinen went on singing his sledge was changed to brushwood and the reins to willow branches, the pearl-handled whip became a reed, and his steed was transformed into a rock in the water, and all the harness into seaweed. And still the old magician sang his magic spells, and Youkahainen's gaily-painted bow became a rainbow in the sky, his feathered arrows flew away as hawks and eagles, and his dog was turned to a stone at his feet. His cap turned into a curling mist, his clothing into white clouds, and his jewel-set girdle into stars.

And at length the spell began to take effect on Youkahainen himself. Slowly, slowly he felt himself sinking into a quicksand, and all his struggles to escape were in vain. When he had sunk up to his waist he began to beg for mercy, and cried out: 'O great Wainamoinen, thou art the greatest of all magicians. Release me, I beg, from this quicksand, and I will give thee two magic bows. One is so strong that only the very strongest men can draw it, and the other a child can shoot.'

But Wainamoinen refused the bows and sank Youkahainen still deeper. And as he sank, Youkahainen kept begging for mercy, and offering first two magic boats, and then two magic steeds that could carry any burden, and finally all his gold and silver and his harvests, but Wainamoinen would not even listen to him. At length Youkahainen had sunk so far that his mouth began to be filled with water and mud, and he cried out as a last hope: 'O mighty Wainamoinen, if thou wilt release me I will give thee my sister Aino as thy bride.'

This was the ransom that Wainamoinen had been waiting for, for Aino was famous for her beauty and loveliness of character, and so he released poor Youkahainen and gave him back his sledge and everything just as it had been before. And when it was all ready Youkahainen jumped into it and drove off home without saying a word.

When he reached home he drove so carelessly that his sledge was broken to pieces against the gate-posts, and he left the broken sledge there and walked straight into the house with hanging head, and at first would not answer any of his family's questions. At length he said: 'Dearest mother, there is cause enough for my grief, for I have had to promise the aged Wainamoinen my dear sister Aino as his bride.' But his mother arose joyfully and clapped her hands and said: 'That is no reason to be sad, my dear son, for I have longed for many years that this very thing should happen--that Aino should have so brave and wise a husband as Wainamoinen.'

So the mother told the news to Aino, but when she heard it she wept for three whole days and nights and refused to be comforted, saying to her mother: 'Why should this great sorrow come to me, dear mother, for now I shall no longer be able to adorn my golden hair with jewels, but must hide it all beneath the ugly cap that wives have to wear. All the golden sunshine and the silver moonlight will go from my life.'

But her mother tried to comfort her by telling her that the sun and moon would shine even more brightly in her new home than in her old, and that Kalevala was a land of flowers.

* * * * *

'I think Aino was very stupid not to want to leave that horrid Lapland,' said Mimi; 'but then I suppose she didn't know what a beautiful country ours is,' she added thoughtfully.

Here Antero, who only cared for the stories, mustered up enough courage to ask Pappa Mikko to go on, which the old man did at once.

AINO'S FATE

The next morning the lovely Aino went early to the forest to gather birch shoots and tassels. After she had finished gathering them she hastened off towards home, but as she was going along the path near the border of the woods she met Wainamoinen, who began thus:

'Aino, fairest maid of the north, do not wear thy gold and pearls for others, but only for me; wear for me alone thy golden tresses.'

'Not for thee,' Aino replied, 'nor for others either, will I wear my jewels. I need them no longer; I would rather wear the plainest clothing and live upon a crust of bread, if only I might live for ever with my mother.'

And as she said this she tore off her jewels and the ribbons from her hair, and threw them from her into the bushes, and then she hurried home, weeping. At the door of the dairy sat her mother, skimming milk. When she saw Aino weeping she asked her what it was that troubled her. Aino, in reply, told her all that had happened in the forest, and how she had thrown away from her all her ornaments.

Her mother, to comfort her, told her to go to a hill-top near by and open the storehouse there, and there in the largest room, in the largest box in that room, she would find six golden girdles and seven rainbow-tinted dresses, made by the daughters of the Moon and of the Sun. 'When I was young,' her mother said, 'I was out upon the hills one day seeking berries. And by chance I overheard the daughters of the Sun and Moon as they were weaving and spinning upon the borders of the clouds above the fir-forest. I went nearer to them, and crept up on a hill within speaking distance of them. Then I began to beseech them, saying: "Give some of your silver, lovely daughters of the Moon, to a poor but worthy maid; and I beg you, daughters of the Sun, give me some of your gold." And then the Moon's daughters gave me silver from their treasure, and the Sun's daughters gave me gold that I might adorn my hair and forehead. I hastened joyfully home with my treasures to my mother's house, and for three days I wore them. Then I took them off and laid them in boxes, and I have never seen them since. But now, my daughter, go and adorn thyself with gold and silk ribbons; put a necklace of pearls around thy neck, and a golden cross upon thy bosom; dress thyself in pure white linen; put on the richest frock that is there and tie it with a belt of gold; put silk stockings on thy feet and the finest of shoes. Then come back to us that we may admire thee, for thou wilt be more beautiful than the sunlight, more lovely than the moonbeams.'

But Aino would not be consoled, and kept on weeping. 'How happy I was in my childhood,' she sang, 'when I used to roam the fields and gather flowers, but now my heart is full of grief and all my life is filled with darkness. It would have been better for me if I had died a child;--then my mother would have wept a little, and my father and sisters and brothers mourned a little while, and then all their sorrow would have been ended.'

Aino wept for three days more, and then her mother once more asked her why she wept so, and Aino replied: 'I weep, O mother, because thou hast promised me to the aged Wainamoinen, to be his comforter and caretaker in his old age. Far better if thou hadst sent me to the bottom of the sea, to live with the fishes and to become a mermaid and ride on the waves. This had been far better than to be an old man's slave and darling.'

When she had said this she left her mother and hastened to the storehouse on the hill. There she opened the largest box and took off six lids, and at the bottom found six golden belts and seven silk dresses. She chose the best of all the treasures there and adorned herself like a queen, with rings and jewels and gold ornaments of every sort.

When she was fully arrayed she left the storehouse and wandered over fields and meadows and on through the dim and gloomy fir-forest, singing as she went: 'Woe is me, poor broken-hearted Aino! My grief is so heavy that I can no longer live. I must leave this earth and go to Manala, the country of departed spirits. Father, mother, brothers, sisters, weep for me no longer, for I am going to live beneath the sea, in the lovely grottos, on a couch of sea-moss.'

For three long weary days Aino wandered, and as the cold night came on she at last reached the seashore. There she sank down, weary, on a rock, and sat there alone in the black night, listening to the solemn music of the wind and the waves, as they sang her funeral melody. When at last the day dawned Aino beheld three water-maidens sitting on a rock by the sea. She hastened to them, weeping, and then began to take off all her ornaments and lay them carefully away. When at length she had laid all her gold and silver decorations on the ground, she took the ribbons from her hair and hung them in a tree, and then laid her silken dress over one of the branches and plunged into the sea. At a distance she saw a lovely rock of all the colours of the rainbow, shining in the golden sunlight. She swam up and climbed upon it to rest. But suddenly the rock began to sway, and with a loud crash it fell to the bottom of the sea, carrying with it the unhappy Aino. And as she sank down she sang a last sad farewell to all her dear ones at home--a song that was so sweet and mournful that the wild beasts heard it, and were so touched by it that they resolved to send a messenger to tell her parents what had happened.

So the animals held a council, and first the bear was proposed as messenger, but they were afraid he would eat the cattle. Next came the wolf, but they feared that he might eat the sheep. Then the fox was proposed, but then he might eat the chickens. So at length the hare was chosen to bear the sad tidings, and he promised to perform his office faithfully.

He ran like the wind, and soon reached Aino's home. There he found no one in the house, but on going to the door of the bath-cabin he found some servants there making birch brooms. They had no sooner caught sight of him than they threatened to roast him and eat him, but he replied: 'Do not think I have come hither to let you roast me. For I come with sad tidings to tell you of the flight of Aino and how she died. The rainbow-coloured stone sank with her to the bottom of the sea, and she perished, singing like a lovely song-bird. There she sleeps in the caverns at the bottom of the sea, and on the shore she has left her silken dress and all her gold and jewels.'

When these tidings came to her mother the bitter tears poured from her eyes, and she sang, 'O all other mothers, listen: never try to force your daughters from the house they long to stay in, unto husbands whom they love not. Thus I drove away my daughter, Aino, fairest in the Northland.'

Singing thus she sat and wept, and the tears trickled down until they reached her shoes, and began to flow out over the ground. Here they formed three little streams, which flowed on and grew larger and larger until they became roaring torrents, and in each torrent was a great waterfall. And in the midst of the waterfalls rose three huge rocky pillars, and on the rocks were three green hills, and on each of the hills was a birch-tree, and on each tree sat a cuckoo. And all three sang together. And the first one sang 'Love! O Love!' for three whole moons, mourning for the dead maiden. And the second sang 'Suitor! Suitor!' wailing six long moons for the unhappy suitor. And the third sang sadly 'Consolation! Consolation!' never ending all his life long for the comfort of the broken-hearted mother.

* * * * *

Mother Stina looked at little Mimi very solemnly when this story was ended, as if she wondered whether she herself would ever need to take to heart the warning of Aino's mother. But no one said anything, and Father Mikko continued on with the next story.

WAINAMOINEN'S SEARCH FOR AINO

When the news reached Wainamoinen he began to weep most bitterly, and the tears fell all that day and night; but the next day he hastened to the water's edge and prayed to the god of dreams to tell him where the water-gods dwelt. And the dream-god answered him lazily, and told him where the island was around which the sea-gods and the mermaids lived.

Then Wainamoinen hastened to his boat-house, and chose a copper boat, and in it placed fishing lines and hooks and nets, and when all was ready he rowed off swiftly towards the forest-covered island which the dream-god had told him of. No sooner had he arrived there than he began to fish, using a line of silver and a hook of gold. But for many days he fished in vain, yet still he persevered. At last one day a wondrous fish was caught, and it played about and struggled a long time until at length it was exhausted, and the hero landed it in the boat.

When Wainamoinen saw it he was astonished at its beauty, but after gazing at it for some time he drew out his knife and was about to cut it up ready for eating. But no sooner had he touched the fish with his knife than it leapt from the bottom of the boat and dived under the water. Then it rose again out of his reach and said to him: 'O ancient minstrel, I did not come hither to be eaten by thee, merely to give thee food for a day.'

'Why didst thou come then?' asked Wainamoinen.

'I came, O minstrel, to rest in thine arms and to be thy companion and wife for ever,' the fish replied; 'to keep thy home in order and to do whatever thou pleased. For I am not a fish; I am no salmon of the Northern Seas, but Youkahainen's youngest sister. I am the one thou wert fishing for--Aino, whom thou lovest. Once thou wert wise, but now art foolish, cruel. Thou didst not know enough to keep me, but wouldst eat me for thy dinner!'

Then Wainamoinen begged her to return to him, but the fish replied: 'Nevermore will Aino's spirit come to thee to be so treated,' and as it spoke the fish dived out of sight.

Still Wainamoinen did not give up, but took out his nets and began dragging the waters. And he dragged all the waters in the lands of Lapland and of Kalevala, and caught fish of every sort, only Aino, now the water-maiden, never came into his net. 'Fool that I am,' he said at length, 'surely I was once wise, had at least a bit of wisdom, but now all my power has left me. For I have had Aino in my boat, but did not know until too late that I had even caught her.' And with these words he gave up his search and set off to his home in Kalevala. And on his way he mourned that the joyous song of the sacred cuckoo had ceased, and he sang: 'I shall never learn the secret how to live and prosper. If only my ancient mother were still living, she could give me good advice that this sorrow might leave me.'

Then his mother awoke from her tomb in the depths and spoke to him: 'Thy mother was but sleeping, and I'll now advise thee how this sorrow may pass over. Go at once to the Northland, where dwell wise and lovely maidens, far lovelier than Aino. Take one of them for thy wife; she will make thee happy and be an honour to thy home.'

* * * * *

'I don't think he had much of a heart if he could be consoled so easily as all that,' said Mother Stina, a little indignantly.

'Wait and you shall see,' said old Father Mikko with a smile; and he continued.

WAINAMOINEN'S UNLUCKY JOURNEY

Wainamoinen made ready for a journey to the Northland, to the land of cold winters and of little sunshine, where he was to seek a wife. He saddled his swift steed, and mounting, started towards the north. On and on he went upon his magic steed, galloping over the plains of Kalevala. And when he came to the shores of the wide sea, he did not halt, but galloped on over the water without even so much as wetting a hoof of his magic courser.

But wicked Youkahainen hated Wainamoinen for what he had done when he defeated him in magic, and so he made ready a bow of steel. He painted it with many bright colours and trimmed it with gold and silver and copper. Then he chose the strongest sinews from the stag, and at length the great bow was ready. On the back was painted a courser, at each end a colt, near the bend a sleeping maiden, near the notch a running hare. And after that he cut some arrows out of oak, put tips of sharpened copper on them, and five feathers on the end. Then he hardened the arrows and steeped them in the blood of snakes and the poison of the adder to give them magic power.

When all was ready Youkahainen went out to wait for his enemy. For many days and nights he watched in vain, but still he did not weary, and at last one day at dawn he saw what seemed to be a black cloud on the waters. But by his magic art he knew that it was Wainamoinen on his magic steed. Then he went after his bow, but his mother stopped him and asked him whom he meant to shoot with his bow and poisoned arrows. Youkahainen replied: 'I have made this mighty bow and these poisoned arrows for the old magician Wainamoinen, that I may destroy my rival.'

His mother reproved him, saying, 'If thou slayest Wainamoinen all our joy will vanish, all the singing and music will die with him. It is better that we have his magic music in this world than to have it all go to the underground world Manala, where the spirits of the dead dwell.'

Youkahainen hesitated for a moment, but then envy and hatred filled his heart, and he replied: 'Even though all joy and pleasure vanish from the world, yet will I shoot this rival singer, let the end be what it will.'

With these words he hastened out and took his stand in a thicket near the shore. He chose the three strongest arrows from his quiver, and selecting the best among these three, he laid it against the string and aimed at Wainamoinen's heart. And as he still waited for him to come nearer, he sang this incantation: 'Be elastic, bow-string mine, swiftly fly, O oaken arrow, swift as light, O poisoned arrow, to the heart of Wainamoinen. If my hand too low shall aim thee, may the gods direct thee higher. If mine eye too high shall aim thee, may the gods direct thee lower.'

Then he let the arrow fly, but it flew over Wainamoinen's head and pierced and scattered the clouds above. Again he shot a second, but it flew too low and penetrated to the depths of the sea. Then he aimed the third, and it flew from his bow swift as lightning. Straight forward it flew, and struck the magic steed full in the shoulder so that Wainamoinen was plunged headlong into the waves. And then arose a mighty storm-wind, and the old magician was carried far out into the wide open sea.

But Youkahainen believed that he had killed his rival, and so went home, rejoicing and singing as he went. And his mother asked him, 'Hast thou slain great Wainamoinen?' and he replied, 'I have slain old Wainamoinen. Into the salt sea he plunged headlong, and the old magician is now at the bottom of the deep.'

But his mother replied: 'Woe to earth for what thou hast done. Joy and singing are gone for ever, for thou hast slain the great wise singer, thou hast slain the joy of Kalevala.'

* * * * *

All his listeners seemed very much dissatisfied at the turn the story had taken, so Father Mikko hastened to assure them that Wainamoinen was not really dead, and then he began the next story.

WAINAMOINEN'S RESCUE

But Wainamoinen was not dead, but swam on for eight days and seven nights trying to reach land. And when the evening of the eighth day came and still no land was in sight, he began to grow tired and to despair of ever getting out alive.

But just then he spied an eagle of wonderful size flying towards him from the west. And the eagle flew up to him and asked who he was and how he had come there in the ocean.

And Wainamoinen replied: 'I am Wainamoinen, the great singer and magician. I had left my home for the distant Northland, and as I galloped over the ocean and neared the shore, the wicked Youkahainen killed my steed with his magic arrows, and I was cast headlong into the waters. And then a mighty wind arose and drove me farther and ever farther out to sea, and now I have been struggling with the winds and waves for eight long weary days, and I fear that I shall perish of cold and hunger before I reach any land.'

The eagle replied: 'Do not be discouraged, but seat thyself upon my back and I will carry thee to land, for I have not forgotten the day when thou left the birch-trees standing for the birds to sing in and the eagle to rest on.'

So Wainamoinen climbed upon the eagle's broad back and seated himself securely there, and off the eagle flew, straight to the nearest land. There on the shore of the dismal Northland the eagle left him, and flew off to join his mate.

Wainamoinen found himself upon a bare, rocky point of land, without a trace of human life about it, nor any path through the woods by which it was surrounded. And he wept bitterly, for he was far from home, covered with wounds from his battle with the winds and waters, and faint with hunger: three days and three nights he wept without ceasing.

Now the fair and lovely daughter of old Louhi had laid a wager with the Sun, that she would rise before him the next morning. And so she did, and had time to shear six lambs before the Sun had left his couch beneath the ocean. And after this she swept up the floor of the stable with a birch broom, and collecting the sweepings on a copper shovel, she carried them to the meadow near the seashore. There she heard the sound of some one weeping, and hastening back she told her mother of it.

Then Louhi, ancient mistress of the Northland, hurried out from her house and down to the seashore. There she heard the sound of weeping, and quickly pushed off from the shore in a boat and rowed to where the weeping Wainamoinen sat.

When she came to him she said to him: 'What folly hast thou done to be in so sad a state?'

Wainamoinen replied: 'It is indeed folly that has brought me into this trouble. I was happy enough at home before I went on this expedition.'

Then Louhi asked him to tell her who he was of all the great heroes.

Wainamoinen replied: 'Formerly I was honoured as a great singer and magician: I was called the "Singer of Kalevala," the wise Wainamoinen.'

Then Louhi said: 'Rise, O hero, from thy lowly couch among the willows, come with me to my home and there tell me the story of thy adventures.' So she took the starving hero into her boat and rowed him to the shore, and took him to her house. There she gave him food, and the warmth and rest and shelter soon restored to him all his strength. Then Louhi asked him to relate his adventures, and he told her all that had happened to him.

When he had finished Louhi said to him: 'Weep no more, Wainamoinen, for thou shalt be welcome in our homes, thou shalt live with us and eat our salmon and other fish.'