Chapter X: Part 10

“Now the hostess I have lauded, Let me praise the favored suitor, Now the honored hero-bridegroom, Best of all the village-masters. Clothed in purple is the hero, Raiment brought from distant nations, Tightly fitting to his body; Snugly sets his coat of ermine, To the floor it hangs in beauty, Trailing from his neck and shoulders, Little of his vest appearing, Peeping through his outer raiment, Woven by the Moon’s fair daughters, And his vestment silver-tinselled. Dressed in neatness is the suitor, Round his waist a belt of copper, Hammered by the Sun’s sweet maidens, Ere the early fires were lighted, Ere the fire had been discovered. Dressed in richness is the bridegroom, On his feet are silken stockings, Silken ribbons on his ankles, Gold and silver interwoven. Dressed in beauty is the bridegroom, On his feet are shoes of deer-skin, Like the swans upon the water, Like the blue-duck on the sea-waves, Like the thrush among the willows, Like the water-birds of Northland. Well adorned the hero-suitor, With his locks of golden color, With his gold-beard finely braided, Hero-hat upon his forehead, Piercing through the forest branches, Reaching to the clouds of heaven, Bought with countless gold and silver, Priceless is the suitor’s head-gear.

“Now the bridegroom has been lauded, I will praise the young bride’s playmate, Day-companion in her childhood, In the maiden’s magic mansion. Whence was brought the merry maiden, From the village of Tanikka? Thence was never brought the playmate, Playmate of the bride in childhood. Has she come from distant nations, From the waters of the Dwina, O’er the ocean far-outstretching? Not from Dwina came the maiden, Did not sail across the waters; Grew as berry in the mountains, As a strawberry of sweetness, On the fields the child of beauty, In the glens the golden flower. Thence has come the young bride’s playmate, Thence arose her fair companion. Tiny are her feet and fingers, Small her lips of scarlet color, Like the maiden’s loom of Suomi; Eyes that shine in kindly beauty Like the twinkling stars of heaven; Beam the playmate’s throbbing temples Like the moonlight on the waters. Trinkets has the bride’s companion, On her neck a golden necklace, In her tresses, silken ribbons, On her arms are golden bracelets, Golden rings upon her fingers, Pearls are set in golden ear-rings, Loops of gold upon her temples, And with pearls her brow is studded. Northland thought the Moon was shining When her jeweled ear-rings glistened; Thought the Sun had left his station When her girdle shone in beauty; Thought a ship was homeward sailing When her colored head-gear fluttered. Thus is praised the bride’s companion, Playmate of the Rainbow-maiden.

“Now I praise the friends assembled, All appear in graceful manners; If the old are wise and silent, All the youth are free and merry, All the guests are fair and worthy. Never was there in Wainola, Never will there be in Northland, Such a company assembled; All the children speak in joyance, All the aged move sedately; Dressed in white are all the maidens, Like the hoar-frost of the morning, Like the welcome dawn of spring-time, Like the rising of the daylight. Silver then was more abundant, Gold among the guests in plenty, On the hills were money-pockets, Money-bags along the valleys, For the friends that were invited, For the guests in joy assembled. All the friends have now been lauded, Each has gained his meed of honor.”

Wainamoinen, old and truthful, Song-deliverer of Northland, Swung himself upon the fur-bench Of his magic sledge of copper, Straightway hastened to his hamlet, Singing as he journeyed onward, Singing charms and incantations, Singing one day, then a second, All the third day chanting legends. On the rocks the runners rattled, Hung the sledge upon a birch-stump, Broke it into many pieces, With the magic of his singing; Double were the runners bended, All the parts were torn asunder, And his magic sledge was ruined.

Then the good, old Wainamoinen Spake these words in meditation: “Is there one among this number, In this rising generation, Or perchance among the aged, In the passing generation, That will go to Mana’s kingdom, To the empire of Tuoni, There to get the magic auger From the master of Manala, That I may repair my snow-sledge, Or a second sledge may fashion?”

What the younger people answered Was the answer of the aged: “Not among the youth of Northland, Nor among the aged heroes, Is there one of ample courage, That has bravery sufficient, To attempt the reckless journey To the kingdom of Tuoni, To Manala’s fields and castles, Thence to bring Tuoni’s auger, Wherewithal to mend thy snow-sledge, Build anew thy sledge of magic.”

Thereupon old Wainamoinen, The eternal wisdom-singer, Went again to Mana’s empire, To the kingdom of Tuoni, Crossed the sable stream of Deathland, To the castles of Manala, Found the auger of Tuoni, Brought the instrument in safety. Straightway sings old Wainamoinen, Sings to life a purple forest, In the forest, slender birches, And beside them, mighty oak-trees, Shapes them into shafts and runners, Moulds them by his will and power, Makes anew his sledge of magic.

On his steed he lays the harness, Binds him to his sledge securely, Seats himself upon the cross-bench, And the racer gallops homeward, To the manger filled and waiting, To the stable of his master; Brings the ancient Wainamoinen, Famous bard and wise enchanter, To the threshold of his dwelling, To his home in Kalevala.

RUNE XXVI. ORIGIN OF THE SERPENT.

Ahti, living on the island, Near the Kauko-point and harbor, Plowed his fields for rye and barley, Furrowed his extensive pastures, Heard with quickened ears an uproar, Heard the village in commotion, Heard a noise along the sea-shore, Heard the foot-steps on the ice-plain, Heard the rattle of the sledges; Quick his mind divined the reason, Knew it was Pohyola’s wedding, Wedding of the Rainbow-virgin. Quick he stopped in disappointment, Shook his sable locks in envy, Turned his hero-head in anger, While the scarlet blood ceased flowing Through his pallid face and temples; Ceased his plowing and his sowing, On the field he left the furrows; On his steed he lightly mounted, Straightway galloped fleetly homeward To his well-beloved mother, To his mother old and golden, Gave his mother these directions, These the words of Lemminkainen: “My beloved, faithful mother, Quickly bring me beer and viands, Bring me food for I am hungry, Food and drink for me abundant, Have my bath-room quickly heated, Quickly set the room in order, That I may refresh my body, Dress myself in hero-raiment.”

Lemminkainen’s aged mother Brings her hero food in plenty, Beer and viands for the hungry, For her thirsting son and hero; Quick she heats the ancient bath-room, Quickly sets his bath in order.

Then the reckless Lemminkainen Ate his meat with beer inspiring, Hastened to his bath awaiting; Only was the bullfinch bathing, With the many-colored bunting; Quick the hero laved his temples, Laved himself to flaxen whiteness, Quick returning to his mother, Spake in haste the words that follow: “My beloved, helpful mother, Go at once to yonder mountain, To the store-house on the hill-top, Bring my vest of finest texture, Bring my hero-coat of purple, Bring my suit of magic colors, Thus to make me look attractive, Thus to robe myself in beauty.”

First the ancient mother asked him, Asked her son this simple question: “Whither dost thou go, my hero? Dost thou go to hunt the roebuck, Chase the lynx upon the mountains, Shoot the squirrel in the woodlands?”

Spake the reckless Lemminkainen, Also known as Kaukomieli: “Worthy mother of my being, Go I not to hunt the roebuck, Chase the lynx upon the mountains, Shoot the squirrel on the tree-tops; I am going to Pohyola, To the feasting of her people. Bring at once my purple vestments, Straightway bring my nuptial outfit, Let me don it for the marriage Of the maiden of the Northland.”

But the ancient dame dissented, And the wife forebade the husband; Two of all the best of heroes, Three of nature’s fairest daughters, Strongly urged wild Lemminkainen Not to go to Sariola, To Pohyola’s great carousal, To the marriage-feast of Northland, “Since thou hast not been invited, Since they do not wish thy presence.”

Spake the reckless Lemminkainen. These the words of Kaukomieli: “Where the wicked are invited, There the good are always welcome, Herein lies my invitation; I am constantly reminded By this sword of sharpened edges, By this magic blade and scabbard, That Pohyola needs my presence.”

Lemminkainen’s aged mother Sought again to stay her hero: “Do not go, my son beloved, To the feasting in Pohyola; Full of horrors are the highways, On the road are many wonders, Three times Death appears to frighten, Thrice destruction hovers over!”

Spake the reckless Lemminkainen, These the words of Kaukomieli: “Death is seen by aged people, Everywhere they see perdition, Death can never frighten heroes, Heroes do not fear the spectre; Be that as it may, dear mother, Tell that I may understand thee, Name the first of all destructions, Name the first and last destroyers!” Lemminkainen’s mother answered: “I will tell thee, son and hero, Not because I wish to speak it, But because the truth is worthy; I will name the chief destruction, Name the first of the destroyers. When thou hast a distance journeyed, Only one day hast thou travelled, Comes a stream along the highway, Stream of fire of wondrous beauty, In the stream a mighty fire-spout, In the spout a rock uprising, On the rock a fiery hillock, On the top a flaming eagle, And his crooked beak he sharpens, Sharpens too his bloody talons, For the coming of the stranger, For the people that approach him.”

Spake the reckless Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli: “Women die beneath the eagle, Such is not the death of heroes; Know I well a magic lotion, That will heal the wounds of eagles; Make myself a steed of alders, That will walk as my companion, That will stride ahead majestic; As a duck I’ll drive behind him, Drive him o’er the fatal waters, Underneath the flaming eagle, With his bloody beak and talons. Worthy mother of my being, Name the second of destroyers.” Lemminkainen’s mother answered: “This the second of destroyers: When thou hast a distance wandered, Only two days hast thou travelled, Comes a pit of fire to meet thee, In the centre of the highway, Eastward far the pit extending, Stretches endless to the westward, Filled with burning coals and pebbles, Glowing with the heat of ages; Hundreds has this monster swallowed, In his jaws have thousands perished, Hundreds with their trusty broadswords, Thousands on their fiery chargers.”

Spake the reckless Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli: “Never will the hero perish In the jaws of such a monster; Know I well the means of safety, Know a remedy efficient: I will make of snow a master, On the snow-clad fields, a hero, Drive the snow-man on before me, Drive him through the flaming vortex, Drive him through the fiery furnace, With my magic broom of copper; I will follow in his shadow, Follow close the magic image, Thus escape the frightful monster, With my golden locks uninjured, With my flowing beard untangled. Ancient mother of my being, Name the last of the destructions, Name the third of the destroyers.” Lemminkainen’s mother answered: “This the third of fatal dangers: Hast thou gone a greater distance, Hast thou travelled one day longer, To the portals of Pohyola, To the narrowest of gate-ways, There a wolf will rise to meet thee, There the black-bear sneak upon thee; In Pohyola’s darksome portals, Hundreds in their jaws have perished, Have devoured a thousand heroes; Wherefore will they not destroy thee, Since thy form is unprotected?”

Spake the reckless Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli: “Let them eat the gentle lambkins, Feed upon their tender tissues, They cannot devour this hero; I am girded with my buckler, Girded with my belt of copper, Armlets wear I of the master, From the wolf and bear protected, Will not hasten to Untamo. I can meet the wolf of Lempo, For the bear I have a balsam, For his mouth I conjure bridles, For the wolf, forge chains of iron; I will smite them as the willow, Chop them into little fragments, Thus I’ll gain the open court-yard, Thus triumphant end my journey.” Lemminkainen’s mother answered: “Then thy journey is not ended, Greater dangers still await thee, Great the wonders yet before thee, Horrors three within thy pathway; Three great dangers of the hero Still await thy reckless footsteps, These the worst of all thy dangers: When thou hast still farther wandered, Thou wilt reach the Court of Pohya, Where the walls are forged from iron, And from steel the outer bulwark; Rises from the earth to heaven, Back again to earth returning; Double spears are used for railings, On each spear are serpents winding, On each rail are stinging adders; Lizards too adorn the bulwarks, Play their long tails in the sunlight, Hissing lizards, venomed serpents, Jump and writhe upon the rampart, Turn their horrid heads to meet thee; On the greensward lie the monsters, On the ground the things of evil, With their pliant tongues of venom, Hissing, striking, crawling, writhing; One more horrid than the others, Lies before the fatal gate-way, Longer than the longest rafters, Larger than the largest portals; Hisses with the tongue of anger, Lifts his head in awful menace, Raises it to strike none other Than the hero of the islands.”

Spake the warlike Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli: “By such things the children perish, Such is not the death of heroes; Know I well the fire to manage, I can quench the flames of passion, I can meet the prowling wild-beasts, Can appease the wrath of serpents, I can heal the sting of adders, I have plowed the serpent-pastures, Plowed the adder-fields of Northland; While my hands were unprotected, Held the serpents in my fingers, Drove the adders to Manala, On my hands the blood of serpents, On my feet the fat of adders. Never will thy hero stumble On the serpents of the Northland; With my heel I’ll crush the monsters, Stamp the horrid things to atoms; I will banish them from Pohya, Drive them to Manala’s kingdom, Step within Pohyola’s mansion, Walk the halls of Sariola!” Lemminkainen’s mother answered: “Do not go, my son beloved, To the firesides of Pohyola, Through the Northland fields and fallows; There are warriors with broadswords, Heroes clad in mail of copper, Are on beer intoxicated, By the beer are much embittered; They will charm thee, hapless creature, On the tips of swords of magic; Greater heroes have been conjured, Stronger ones have been outwitted.” Spake the reckless Lemminkainen: “Formerly thy son resided In the hamlets of Pohyola; Laplanders cannot enchant me, Nor the Turyalanders harm me; I the Laplander will conjure, Charm him with my magic powers, Sing his shoulders wide asunder, In his chin I’ll sing a fissure, Sing his collar-bone to pieces, Sing his breast to thousand fragments.” Lemminkainen’s mother answered: “Foolish son, ungrateful wizard, Boasting of thy former visit, Boasting of thy fatal journey! Once in Northland thou wert living, In the homesteads of Pohyola; There thou tried to swim the whirlpool, Tasted there the dog-tongue waters, Floated down the fatal current, Sank beneath its angry billows; Thou hast seen Tuoni’s river, Thou hast measured Mana’s waters, There to-day thou wouldst be sleeping, Had it not been for thy mother! What I tell thee well remember, Shouldst thou gain Pohyola’s chambers, Filled with stakes thou’lt find the court-yard, These to hold the heads of heroes; There thy head will rest forever, Shouldst thou go to Sariola.” Spake the warlike Lemminkainen: “Fools indeed may heed thy counsel, Cowards too may give attention; Those of seven conquest-summers Cannot heed such weak advising. Bring to me my battle-armor, Bring my magic mail of copper, Bring me too my father’s broadsword, Keep the old man’s blade from rusting; Long it has been cold and idle, Long has lain in secret places, Long and constantly been weeping, Long been asking for a bearer.”

Then he took his mail of copper, Took his ancient battle-armor, Took his father’s sword of magic, Tried its point against the oak-wood, Tried its edge upon the sorb-tree; In his hand the blade was bended, Like the limber boughs of willow, Like the juniper in summer. Spake the hero, Lemminkainen: “There is none in Pohya’s hamlets, In the courts of Sariola, That with me can measure broadswords, That can meet this blade ancestral.”

From the nail he took a cross-bow, Took the strongest from the rafters, Spake these words in meditation: “I shall recognize as worthy, Recognize that one a hero That can bend this mighty cross-bow, That can break its magic sinews, In the hamlets of Pohyola.”

Lemminkainen, filled with courage, Girds himself in suit of battle, Dons his mighty mail of copper, To his servant speaks as follows: “Trusty slave, and whom I purchased, Whom I bought with gold and silver, Quick prepare my fiery charger, Harness well my steed of battle; I am going to the feasting, To the banquet-fields of Lempo.”

Quick obeys the faithful servant, Hitches well the noble war-horse, Quick prepares the fire-red stallion, Speaks these words when all is ready: “I have done what thou hast hidden, Ready harnessed is the charger, Waiting to obey his master.”

Comes the hour of the departing Of the hero, Lemminkainen, Right hand ready, left unwilling, All his anxious fingers pain him, Till at last in full obedience, All his members give permission; Starts the hero on his journey, While the mother gives him counsel, At the threshold of the dwelling, At the highway of the court-yard: “Child of courage, my beloved, Son of strength, my wisdom-hero, If thou goest to the feasting, Shouldst thou reach the great carousal, Drink thou only a half a cupful, Drink the goblet to the middle, Always give the half remaining, Give the worse half to another, To another more unworthy; In the lower half are serpents, Worms, and frogs, and hissing lizards, Feeding on the slimy bottom.”

Furthermore she tells her hero, Gives her son these sage directions, On the border of the court-yard, At the portals farthest distant: “If thou goest to the banquet, Shouldst thou reach the great carousal, Occupy but half the settle, Take but half a stride in walking, Give the second half to others, To another less deserving; Only thus thou’lt be a hero, Thus become a son immortal; In the guest-rooms look courageous, Bravely move about the chambers, In the gatherings of heroes, With the hosts of magic valor.”

Thereupon wild Lemminkainen Quickly leaped upon the cross-bench Of his battle-sledge of wonder, Raised his pearl-enamelled birch-rod, Snapped his whip above his charger, And the steed flew onward fleetly, Galloped on his distant journey.

He had travelled little distance, When a flight of hazel-chickens Quick arose before his coming, Flew before the foaming racer. There were left some feathers lying, Feathers of the hazel-chickens, Lying in the hero’s pathway. These the reckless Lemminkainen Gathered for their magic virtues, Put them in his pouch of leather, Did not know what things might happen On his journey to Pohyola; All things have some little value, In a strait all things are useful.

Then he drove a little distance, Galloped farther on the highway, When his courser neighed in danger, And the fleet-foot ceased his running. Then the stout-heart, Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli, Rose upon his seat in wonder, Craned his neck and looked about him. Found it as his mother told him, Found a stream of fire opposing; Ran the fire-stream like a river, Ran across the hero’s pathway. In the river was a fire-fall, In the cataract a fire-rock, On the rock a fiery hillock, On its summit perched an eagle, From his throat the fire was streaming To the crater far below him, Fire out-shooting from his feathers, Glowing with a fiery splendor; Long he looked upon the hero, Long he gazed on Lemminkainen, Then the eagle thus addressed him: “Whither art thou driving, Ahti, Whither going, Lemminkainen?” Kaukomieli spake in answer: “To the feastings of Pohyola, To the drinking-halls of Louhi, To the banquet of her people; Move aside and let me journey, Move a little from my pathway, Let this wanderer pass by thee, I am warlike Lemminkainen.”

This the answer of the eagle, Screaming from his throat of splendor: “Though thou art wild Lemminkainen, I shall let thee wander onward, Through my fire-throat let thee journey, Through these flames shall be thy passage To the banquet-halls of Louhi, To Pohyola’s great carousal!”

Little heeding, Kaukomieli Thinks himself in little trouble, Thrusts his fingers in his pockets, Searches in his pouch of leather, Quickly takes the magic feathers, Feathers from the hazel-chickens, Rubs them into finest powder, Rubs them with his magic fingers, Whence a flight of birds arises, Hazel-chickens from the feathers, Large the bevy of the young birds. Quick the wizard, Lemminkainen, Drives them to the eagle’s fire-mouth, Thus to satisfy his hunger, Thus to quench the fire out-streaming. Thus escapes the reckless hero, Thus escapes the first of dangers, Passes thus the first destroyer, On his journey to Pohyola.

With his whip he strikes his courser, With his birch-whip, pearl-enamelled; Straightway speeds the fiery charger, Noiselessly upon his journey, Gallops fast and gallops faster, Till the flying steed in terror Neighs again and ceases running. Lemminkainen, quickly rising, Cranes his neck and looks about him, Sees his mother’s words were truthful, Sees her augury well-taken. Lo! before him yawned a fire-gulf, Stretching crosswise through his pathway; Far to east the gulf extending, To the west an endless distance, Filled with stones and burning pebbles, Running streams of burning matter.

Little heeding, Lemminkainen Cries aloud in prayer to Ukko: “Ukko, thou O God above me, Dear Creator, omnipresent, From the north-west send a storm-cloud, From the east, dispatch a second, From the south send forth a third one; Let them gather from the south-west, Sew their edges well together, Fill thou well the interspaces, Send a snow-fall high as heaven, Let it fall from upper ether, Fall upon the flaming fire-pit, On the cataract and whirlpool!”

Mighty Ukko, the Creator, Ukko, father omnipresent, Dwelling in the courts of heaven, Sent a storm-cloud from the north-west, From the east he sent a second, From the south despatched a third one, Let them gather from the south-west, Sewed their edges well together, Filled their many interspaces, Sent a snow-fall high as heaven, From the giddy heights of ether, Sent it seething to the fire-pit, On the streams of burning matter; From the snow-fall in the fire-pond, Grows a lake with rolling billows. Quick the hero, Lemminkainen, Conjures there of ice a passage From one border to the other, Thus escapes his second danger, Thus his second trouble passes.

Then the reckless Lemminkainen Raised his pearl-enamelled birch-rod, Snapped his whip above his racer, And the steed flew onward swiftly, Galloped on his distant journey O’er the highway to Pohyola; Galloped fast and galloped faster, Galloped on a greater distance, When the stallion loudly neighing, Stopped and trembled on the highway. Then the lively Lemminkainen Raised himself upon the cross-bench, Looked to see what else had happened; Lo! a wolf stands at the portals, In the passage-way a black-bear, At the high-gate of Pohyola, At the ending of the journey.

Thereupon young Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli, Thrusts his fingers in his pockets, Seeks his magic pouch of leather, Pulls therefrom a lock of ewe-wool, Rubs it firmly in his fingers, In his hands it falls to powder; Breathes the breath of life upon it, When a flock of sheep arises, Goats and sheep of sable color; On the flock the black-wolf pounces, And the wild-bear aids the slaughter, While the reckless Lemminkainen Rushes by them on his journey; Gallops on a little distance, To the court of Sariola, Finds the fence of molten iron, And of steel the rods and pickets, In the earth a hundred fathoms, To the azure sky, a thousand, Double-pointed spears projecting; On each spear were serpents twisted, Adders coiled in countless numbers, Lizards mingled with the serpents, Tails entangled pointing earthward, While their heads were skyward whirling, Writhing, hissing mass of evil.

Then the stout-heart, Kaukomieli, Deeply thought and long considered: “It is as my mother told me, This the wall that she predicted, Stretching from the earth to heaven; Downward deep are serpents creeping, Deeper still the rails extending; High as highest flight of eagles, Higher still the wall shoots upward.”

But the hero, Lemminkainen, Little cares, nor feels disheartened, Draws his broadsword from its scabbard, Draws his mighty blade ancestral, Hews the wall with might of magic, Breaks the palisade in pieces, Hews to atoms seven pickets, Chops the serpent-wall to fragments; Through the breach he quickly passes To the portals of Pohyola.

In the way, a serpent lying, Lying crosswise in the entry, Longer than the longest rafters, Larger than the posts of oak-wood; Hundred-eyed, the heinous serpent, And a thousand tongues, the monster, Eyes as large as sifting vessels, Tongues as long as shafts of javelins, Teeth as large as hatchet-handles, Back as broad as skiffs of ocean. Lemminkainen does not venture Straightway through this host opposing, Through the hundred heads of adders, Through the thousand tongues of serpents. Spake the magic Lemminkainen: “Venomed viper, thing of evil, Ancient adder of Tuoni, Thou that crawlest in the stubble, Through the flower-roots of Lempo, Who has sent thee from thy kingdom, Sent thee from thine evil coverts, Sent thee hither, crawling, writhing, In the pathway I would travel? Who bestowed thy mouth of venom, Who insisted, who commanded, Thou shouldst raise thy head toward heaven, Who thy tail has given action? Was this given by the father, Did the mother give this power, Or the eldest of the brothers, Or the youngest of the sisters, Or some other of thy kindred?

“Close thy mouth, thou thing of evil, Hide thy pliant tongue of venom, In a circle wrap thy body, Coil thou like a shield in silence, Give to me one-half the pathway, Let this wanderer pass by thee, Or remove thyself entirely; Get thee hence to yonder heather, Quick retreat to bog and stubble, Hide thyself in reeds and rushes, In the brambles of the lowlands. Like a ball of flax enfolding, Like a sphere of aspen-branches, With thy head and tail together, Roll thyself to yonder mountain; In the heather is thy dwelling, Underneath the sod thy caverns. Shouldst thou raise thy head in anger, Mighty Ukko will destroy it, Pierce it with his steel-tipped arrows, With his death-balls made of iron!”

Hardly had the hero ended, When the monster, little heeding, Hissing with his tongue in anger, Plying like the forked lightning, Pounces with his mouth of venom At the head of Lemminkainen; But the hero, quick recalling, Speaks the master-words of knowledge, Words that came from distant ages, Words his ancestors had taught him, Words his mother learned in childhood, These the words of Lemminkainen: “Since thou wilt not heed mine order, Since thou wilt not leave the highway, Puffed with pride of thine own greatness, Thou shall burst in triple pieces. Leave thy station for the borders, I will hunt thine ancient mother, Sing thine origin of evil, How arose thy head of horror; Suoyatar, thine ancient mother, Thing of evil, thy creator!

“Suoyatar once let her spittle Fall upon the waves of ocean; This was rocked by winds and waters, Shaken by the ocean-currents, Six years rocked upon the billows, Rocked in water seven summers, On the blue-back of the ocean, On the billows high as heaven; Lengthwise did the billows draw it, And the sunshine gave it softness, To the shore the billows washed it, On the coast the waters left it.

“Then appeared Creation’s daughters, Three the daughters thus appearing, On the roaring shore of ocean, There beheld the spittle lying, And the daughters spake as follows: ‘What would happen from this spittle, Should the breath of the Creator Fall upon the writhing matter, Breathe the breath of life upon it, Give the thing the sense of vision?’

“The Creator heard these measures, Spake himself the words that follow: ‘Evil only comes from evil, This is the expectoration Of fell Suoyatar, its mother; Therefore would the thing be evil, Should I breathe a soul within it, Should I give it sense of vision.’

“Hisi heard this conversation, Ever ready with his mischief, Made himself to be creator, Breathed a soul into the spittle, To fell Suoyatar’s fierce anger. Thus arose the poison-monster, Thus was born the evil serpent, This the origin of evil.

“Whence the life that gave her action? From the carbon-pile of Hisi. Whence then was her heart created? From the heart-throbs of her mother. Whence arose her brain of evil? From the foam of rolling waters. Whence was consciousness awakened? From the waterfall’s commotion. Whence arose her head of venom? From the seed-germs of the ivy. Whence then came her eyes of fury? From the flaxen seeds of Lempo. Whence the evil ears for hearing? From the foliage of Hisi. Whence then was her mouth created? This from Suoyatar’s foam-currents. Whence arose thy tongue of anger? From the spear of Keitolainen. Whence arose thy fangs of poison? From the teeth of Mana’s daughter. Whence then was thy back created? From the carbon-posts of Piru. How then was thy tail created? From the brain of the hobgoblin. Whence arose thy writhing entrails? From the death-belt of Tuoni.

“This thine origin, O Serpent, This thy charm of evil import, Vilest thing of God’s creation, Writhing, hissing thing of evil, With the color of Tuoni, With the shade of earth and heaven, With the darkness of the storm-cloud. Get thee hence, thou loathsome monster, Clear the pathway of this hero. I am mighty Lemminkainen, On my journey to Pohyola, To the feastings and carousals, In the halls of darksome Northland.”

Thereupon the snake uncoiling, Hundred-eyed and heinous monster, Crawled away to other portals, That the hero, Kaukomieli, Might proceed upon his errand, To the dismal Sariola, To the feastings and carousals In the banquet-halls of Pohya.

RUNE XXVII. THE UNWELCOME GUEST.

I have brought young Kaukomieli, Brought the Islander and hero, Also known as Lemminkainen, Through the jaws of death and ruin, Through the darkling deeps of Kalma, To the homesteads of Pohyola, To the dismal courts of Louhi; Now must I relate his doings, Must relate to all my hearers, How the merry Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli, Wandered through Pohyola’s chambers, Through the halls of Sariola, How the hero went unbidden To the feasting and carousal, Uninvited to the banquet.

Lemminkainen full of courage, Full of life, and strength, and magic, Stepped across the ancient threshold, To the centre of the court-room, And the floors of linwood trembled, Walls and ceilings creaked and murmured.

Spake the reckless Lemminkainen, These the words that Ahti uttered: “Be ye greeted on my coming, Ye that greet, be likewise greeted! Listen, all ye hosts of Pohya; Is there food about this homestead, Barley for my hungry courser, Beer to give a thirsty stranger?”

Sat the host of Sariola At the east end of the table, Gave this answer to the questions: “Surely is there in this homestead, For thy steed an open stable, Never will this host refuse thee, Shouldst thou act a part becoming, Worthy, coming to these portals, Waiting near the birchen rafters, In the spaces by the kettles, By the triple hooks of iron.”

Then the reckless Lemminkainen Shook his sable locks and answered: “Lempo may perchance come hither, Let him fill this lowly station, Let him stand between the kettles, That with soot he may be blackened. Never has my ancient father, Never has the dear old hero, Stood upon a spot unworthy, At the portals near the rafters; For his steed the best of stables, Food and shelter gladly furnished, And a room for his attendants, Corners furnished for his mittens, Hooks provided for his snow-shoes, Halls in waiting for his helmet. Wherefore then should I not find here What my father found before me?”

To the centre walked the hero, Walked around the dining table, Sat upon a bench and waited, On a bench of polished fir-wood, And the kettle creaked beneath him. Spake the reckless Lemminkainen: “As a guest am I unwelcome, Since the waiters bring no viands, Bring no dishes to the stranger?”

Ilpotar, the Northland hostess, Then addressed the words that follow: “Lemminkainen, thou art evil, Thou art here, but not invited, Thou hast not the look of kindness, Thou wilt give me throbbing temples, Thou art bringing pain and sorrow. All our beer is in the barley, All the malt is in the kernel, All our grain is still ungarnered, And our dinner has been eaten; Yesterday thou shouldst have been here, Come again some future season.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

RUNE XXVIII. THE MOTHER’S COUNSEL.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

RUNE XXIX. THE ISLE OF REFUGE.