Part 16

When the moon away was carried, And the sun had been imprisoned Deep in Pohjola's stone mountain, In the rocks as hard as iron, Then she stole away the brightness, And from Väinölä the fires, And she left the houses fireless, And the rooms no flame illumined. 40

Therefore was the night unending, And for long was utter darkness, Night in Kalevala for ever, And in Väinölä's fair dwellings, Likewise in the heavens was darkness, Darkness round the seat of Ukko.

Life without the fire was weary, And without the light a burden, Unto all mankind 'twas dismal, And to Ukko's self 'twas dismal. 50

Ukko, then, of Gods the highest, In the air the great Creator, Now began to feel most strangely, And he pondered and reflected, What strange thing the moon had darkened, How the sun had been obstructed, That the moon would shine no longer, And the sun had ceased his shining.

Then he stepped to cloudland's borders, On the borders of the heavens, 60 Wearing now his pale blue stockings, With the heels of varied colour, And he went the moon to seek for, And he went to find the sunlight, Yet he could not find the moonlight, Nor the sun he could discover.

In the air a light struck Ukko, And a flame did Ukko kindle, From his flaming sword he struck it, Sparks he struck from off the sword-blade, 70 From his nails he struck the fire, From his limbs he made it crackle, High above aloft in heaven, On the starry plains of heaven. When the fire had thus been kindled, Then he took the spark of fire, In his golden purse he thrust it, Placed it in his silver casket, And he bade the maiden rock it, Told the maid of air to rock it, 80 That a new moon might be fashioned, And a new sun be constructed.

On the long cloud's edge she sat her, On the air-marge sat the maiden, There it was she rocked the fire, There she rocked the glowing brightness, In a golden cradle rocked it, With a silver cord she rocked it.

Then the silver props were shaken, Rocked about the golden cradle, 90 Moved the clouds and creaked the heavens, And the props of heaven were swaying, With the rocking of the fire, And the rocking of the brightness.

Thus the maid the fire was rocking, And she rocked the fire to brightness, With her fingers moved the fire, With her hands the fire she tended, And the stupid maiden dropped it, Dropped the flame the careless maiden, 100 From her hands the fire dropped downward From the fingers of its guardian.

Then the sky was cleft asunder, All the air was filled with windows, Burst asunder by the fire-sparks, As the red drop quick descended, And a gap gleamed forth in heaven, As it through the clouds dropped downward, Through nine heavens the drop descended, Through six spangled vaults of heaven. 110

Said the aged Väinämöinen, "Smith and brother, Ilmarinen, Let us go and gaze around us, And the cause perchance discover, What the fire that just descended, What the strange flame that has fallen From the lofty height of heaven, And to earth beneath descended. Of the moon 'tis perhaps a fragment, Of the sun perchance a segment." 120

Thereupon set forth the heroes, And they wandered on, reflecting How they might perchance discover, How they might succeed in finding, Where the fire had just descended, Where the brightness had dropped downward.

And a river flowed before them, And became a lake extensive, And the aged Väinämöinen Straight began a boat to fashion, 130 In the wood he worked upon it, And beside him Ilmarinen Made a rudder out of firwood, Made it from a log of pinewood.

Thus the boat at length was ready, Rowlocks, rudder all completed, And they pushed it in the water, And they rowed and steered it onward, All along the river Neva, Steering round the Cape of Neva. 140

Ilmatar, the lovely damsel, Eldest Daughter of Creation, Then advanced to meet the heroes, And in words like these addressed them: "Who among mankind may ye be? By what names do people call you?"

Said the aged Väinämöinen, "You may look on us as sailors. I am aged Väinämöinen, Ilmarinen, smith, is with me, 150 But inform us of your kindred; By what name do people call you?"

Then the matron made them answer, "I am oldest of all women, Of the air the oldest damsel, And the first of all the mothers. Five times now have I been married, Six times as a bride attired. Whither do you take your journey, Whither, heroes, are you going?" 160

Said the aged Väinämöinen, And he spoke the words which follow: "All our fires have been extinguished, And their flames died down in darkness, Long already were we fireless, And in darkness were we hidden, But at length have we determined That the fire we ought to seek for, Which has just dropped down from heaven, From above the clouds has fallen." 170

Then the woman gave them answer, And she spoke the words which follow: "Hard it is to track the fire, And the bright flame to discover. It has evil wrought already, And the flame has crime committed, For the red spark has shot downward, And the red ball has descended From the realms of the Creator, Where it was by Ukko kindled, 180 Through the level plains of heaven, Through the void aërial spaces, Downwards through the sooty smoke-hole, Downward through the seasoned roof-tree Of the new-built house of Tuuri, Of a wretched roofless dwelling.

"When the fire at length came thither, In the new-built house of Tuuri, Evil deeds he then accomplished, Shocking deeds he then accomplished, 190 Burning up the maidens' bosoms, Tearing at the breasts of maidens, And the knees of boys destroying, And the master's beard consuming.

"And her child the mother suckled, In a cradle of misfortune. Thither, too, the fire rushed onward, And its evil work accomplished, In the cradle burned the baby, Burning, too, the mother's bosom, 200 And the child went off to Mana, And the boy went straight to Tuoni. Thus it was the infant perished, And was cast into destruction, In the red flame's fiery torture, In the anguish of its glowing.

"Great the knowledge of the mother, And to Manala she went not. Means she knew to ban the fire, And to drive away its glowing, 210 Through the little eye of needle, And across the back of axe-blade, Through the sheath of glowing sword-blade, Past the ploughed land did she drive it."

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast, Heard her words, and then made answer: "Whither has the fire retreated, Whither did the pest take refuge, Was it in the field of Tuuri, In a lake, or in a forest?" 220

Then the matron made him answer, And she spoke the words which follow: "When from thence the fire departed, And the flame went wandering onward, First it burned o'er many districts, Many districts, many marshes, Rushed at last into the water, In the billows of Lake Alue, And the fire rose up all flaming, And the sparks arose all crackling. 230

"Three times in the nights of summer, Nine times in the nights of autumn, Rose the lake the height of fir-trees, Roaring rose above the lake-banks, With the strength of furious fire, With the strength of heat all flaming.

"On the bank were thrown the fishes, On the rocks the perch were stranded, And the fishes looked around them, And the perch were all reflecting 240 How they could continue living. Perch were weeping for their dwellings, Fish were weeping for their homesteads, Perches for their rocky castles.

"And the perch with back all crooked, Tried to seize the streak of fire, But the perch was not successful; Seized upon it the blue powan. Down he gulped the streak of fire, And extinguished thus its brightness. 250

"Then retired the Lake of Alue, And fell back from all its margins, Sinking to its former level In a single night of summer.

"When a little time passed over, Fire-pain seized on the devourer, Anguish came upon the swallower, Grievous suffering on the eater.

"Up and down the fish swam turning, Swam for one day and a second, 260 All along the powan's island, Clefts in rocks where flock the salmon, To the points of capes a thousand, Bays among a hundred islands. Every cape made declaration, Every island spoke in thiswise:

"'Nowhere in these sluggish waters, In the narrow Lake of Alue, Can the wretched fish be swallowed, Or the hapless one may perish 270 In the torture of the fire, In the anguish of its glowing.'

"But a salmon-trout o'erheard it, And the powan blue he swallowed. When a little time passed over, Fire-pain seized on the devourer, Anguish came upon the swallower, Grievous suffering on the eater.

"Up and down the fish swam turning, Swam for one day and a second, 280 Through the clefts where flock the salmon, And the depths where sport the fishes, To the points of capes a thousand, Bays among a hundred islands. Every cape made declaration, Every island spoke in thiswise:

"'Nowhere in these sluggish waters, In the narrow Lake of Alue, Can the wretched fish be swallowed, Or the hapless one may perish 290 In the pain of burning fire, In the anguish of its glowing.'

"But a grey pike hurried forward, And the salmon-trout he swallowed. When a little time passed over, Fire-pain seized on the devourer, Anguish came upon the swallower, Grievous suffering on the eater.

"Up and down the fish swam turning, Swam for one day and a second, 300 Past the cliffs where flock the seagulls, And the rocks where sport the seamews, To the points of capes a thousand, Bays among a hundred islands. Every cape made declaration, Every island spoke in thiswise:

"'Nowhere in these sluggish waters, In the narrow Lake of Alue, Can the wretched fish be swallowed, Or the hapless one may perish 310 In the pain of burning fire, In the anguish of its glowing.'"

Then the aged Väinämöinen, Secondly, smith Ilmarinen, Wove a net of bast constructed, Which from juniper they gathered, Steeped it in the juice of willow, And of sallow-bark they made it.

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast Sent the women to the drag-net; 320 To the net there went the women, Sisters came to draw the drag-net; And he steered, and glided onward Past the capes and round the islands, To the clefts where flock the salmon, And along the powan's island, Where the red-brown reeds are waving, And among the beauteous rushes.

Eager now to make a capture, Then he cast the net and sunk it, 330 But he cast the net out twisted, And in wrong direction drew it, And the fish they could not capture, Though with eagerness they laboured.

In the water went the brothers, To the net the men proceeded, And they swung it and they pushed it, And they pulled it and they dragged it, Through the deeps, and rocky places, Drew it o'er Kalevala's shingle; 340 But the fish they could not capture; Not the fish so greatly needed. Came the grey pike never near them, Neither on the placid water, Nor upon its ample surface; Fish are small, and nets not many.

Now the fish were all complaining; Said one pike unto another, And the powan asked the ide-fish, And one salmon asked another: 350 "Can the famous men have perished, Perished Kaleva's great children, They who drag the net of linen, And of yarn have made the fish-net, With long poles who beat the water, With long sticks who move the waters?"

Old and famous Väinämöinen Answered in the words which follow: "No, the heroes have not perished, Kaleva's great race has died not, 360 When one dies, is born another, And the best of staves they carry, Longer sticks to sound the water, And their nets are twice as fearful."

RUNO XLVIII.--THE CAPTURE OF THE FIRE

_Argument_

The heroes prepare a linen net, and at length capture the fish which has swallowed the fire (1-192). The fire is found in the fish's belly, but flashes up suddenly, and burns Ilmarinen's cheeks and hands severely (193-248). The fire rushes into the forest, burns over many countries, and spreads further and further, till at length it is captured and carried to the dark dwellings of Kalevala (249-290). Ilmarinen recovers from his burns (291-372).

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast, He the great primeval minstrel, Thereupon began to ponder, And reflected on the method How to make a net of linen, How to make the hundred meshes.

Then he spoke the words which follow, And expressed himself in thiswise: "Is there one who flax can sow me, Who can sow the flax and card it, 10 And of this a net can make me, Weave for me its hundred meshes, Thus this wretched fish to slaughter, And destroy the fish unhappy?"

So a little spot they found him, Found a place not yet burned over, In the wide extent of marshes, There between two stumps they found it.

Thereupon they dug the roots out, And 'twas there they found the flaxseed, 20 Guarded by the worm of Tuoni, There protected by the earthworm.

There they found a heap of ashes; Dry the ashes that they found there, Of a wooden burned-up vessel, Of a boat that once had burned there. There it was they sowed the flaxseed, In the loose ash did they sow it, On the shore of Lake of Alue, There they sowed it in the clayfield. 30

Presently the shoot rose upward, And the flax grew thick and strongly, Grew beyond their expectations, In a single night of summer. Then they steeped it in the night-time, And they carded it by moonlight, And they cleansed it and they stripped it, And they beat it and they rubbed it, With their tools of steel they scraped it, And with all their strength they stripped it. 40 Then they took the flax to steeping, And it soon began to soften, And they hastened then to pound it, Afterwards in haste they dried it.

Then into the house they brought it, And they hastened then to strip it, And they hastened next to beat it, And they hastened then to break it.

Then with diligence they cleansed it, In the twilight did they comb it, 50 And upon the loom arranged it, Quicker brought it to the spindle, In a single night of summer; Thus between two days they worked it.

After this the sisters spun it, And their brothers' wives were netting, And the brothers worked the meshes, And the fathers also aided.

Quickly did they turn the netter, And the mesh with speed they twisted, 60 Till the net was quite completed, And the cords were fixed upon it, In a single night of summer, Half another in addition.

Thus the net was quite completed, And the cords were fixed upon it. And its length was hundred fathoms, And its breadth was hundreds seven; Stones for weights were fastened to it, Likewise proper floats provided. 70

With the net the youths were walking, And at home the old men pondered, Whether they would make a capture, And secure the fish they wished for.

Then they drew the net and dragged it, Much they toiled, and threshed the water, Drew it lengthwise through the water, Dragged it crosswise through the water, Captured many little fishes, Many luckless perch they captured, 80 Many bony perch they captured, And a large-galled Redeye likewise, But the fish they could not capture That for which the net was fashioned.

Said the aged Väinämöinen, "O thou smith, O Ilmarinen, Let us now go forth together Where the net is in the water."

Thereupon went both the heroes, And they drew it through the water, 90 And upon one side they spread it Round the islands in the water, And the other side directed, Round about the promontories, And the balance-pole was guided Just as aged Väinö pushed it.

Thus they cast the net and pushed it, And they drew the net and dragged it, Captured fishes in abundance, And they captured perch in plenty, 100 Salmon-trout in great abundance, Bream and salmon too they captured, All the fishes of the water, Only not the fish they sought for, That for which the net was woven, And the ropes were fastened to it.

Then the aged Väinämöinen Worked to make the net yet longer, Wider yet the sides expanded, Perhaps five hundred fathoms broader, 110 Netted full seven hundred fathoms, And he spoke the words which follow: "To the depths the nets we'll carry, And will now extend them further, Once again will drag the water, Thus another cast attempting."

To the depths the nets they carried, Further did they then convey them, And again they dragged the water, Thus another cast attempting. 120

Then the aged Väinämöinen Spoke aloud the words which follow: "Vellamo, O Water-Mother, Old one with the lavish bosom, Do thou change the shift upon thee, Do thou change thy dress completely, For thou hast a shift of rushes, On thy head a cap of lake-foam, Fashioned by the Wind's fair daughter, Which the billows' daughter gave thee. 130 Now assume a shift of linen, Of the finest flax that's woven, Which by Kuutar has been woven, Päivätär has wrought when spinning.

"Ahto, master of the billows, Ruler thou of caves a hundred, Take thy pole in length five fathoms, Take thy stake, in length full seven, Thresh with this the open water, And do thou stir up the lake-bed, 140 Stir thou all the heaps of refuse, Drive thou on the shoals of fishes, Where the net is spread to catch them, And its hundred floats are swimming, From the bays by fish frequented, From the caves where hide the salmon, From the wide lake's seething whirlpool, And from the profound abysses, Where the sun was never shining, Undisturbed the sand for ever." 150

From the lake a dwarf ascended, From the waves arose a hero, Stood upon the lake's broad surface, And he spoke the words which follow: "Is there need to thresh the water, With a long pole to disturb it?"

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast, Answered in the words that follow: "There is need to thresh the water, With a long pole to disturb it." 160 Then the dwarf, the little hero, Lifted from the bank a pine-tree, Took a tall tree from the pinewood, And prepared to thresh the water, And he asked, and spoke as follows: "Shall I thresh with strength sufficient, Putting forth my utmost efforts, Or as hard as may be needful?"

Old and prudent Väinämöinen Answered in the words which follow: 170 "If you thresh as hard as needful, You will have to do much threshing."

Then the man, the little hero, Set to work to thresh the water, And he threshed as much as needful, And he drove the shoals of fishes, And into the net he drove them, In the net with floats a hundred.

Rested now the smith his oars; Väinämöinen, old and steadfast, 180 Now the net himself drew upward, At the rope as he was pulling.

Said the aged Väinämöinen, "We have caught a shoal of fishes, In the net that I am lifting, With a hundred floats provided."

Then the net was soon drawn upward, And they drew it up and shook it In the boat of Väinämöinen, Finding mid the shoal of fishes, 190 That for which the net was fashioned, And the hundred floats provided.

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast, To the land then urged the vessel, To the blue bridge-side he brought it, To the red bridge-end he brought it, There the shoal of fishes sorted, Turned the heap of bony fishes, And the grey pike found among them, Which he long had sought to capture. 200

Then the aged Väinämöinen Thus unto himself reflected: "Is it wise with hands to seize it, Save with gauntlets made of iron, Save with gloves of stone constructed, Save with mittens made of copper?"

And the Sun's son heard him speaking, And replied in words that follow: "I myself would rip the pike up, Venture in my hand to take him, 210 If I had my large knife only, Which my noble father gave me."

Then from heaven the knife descended, From the clouds the knife fell downward, Golden-hafted, silver-bladed, To the Sun's son's belt dropped downward.

Thereupon the Sun's son seized it, Firmly in his hand he grasped it, And with this the pike ripped open, Cleft the body of the Broad-snout, 220 And within the grey pike's belly There the grey trout he discovered, And within the grey trout's belly There he found the smooth-skinned powan.

Then he split the smooth-skinned powan, And a blue clew he discovered, In the powan's entrails hidden, In the third fold of the entrails.

Then the blue clew he unwinded; From the inside of the blue clew 230 Fell a red clew from within it, And when he unwound the red clew, In the middle of the red clew, There he found a spark of fire Which had once from heaven descended, Through the clouds had fallen downward, From above eight heavens descending, From the ninth aërial region.

Väinämöinen then considered How the spark might best be carried, 240 To the cold and fireless dwellings, To the rooms so dark and gloomy. But the fire flashed up most fiercely, From the Sun's son's hands who held it, Singed the beard of Väinämöinen, Burned the smith much more severely, For upon his cheeks it burned him, And upon his hands it scorched him.

And it hastened quickly onward O'er the waves of Lake of Alue, 250 Through the junipers fled onward, Burnt its way through all the thicket, Then rushed upward through the fir-trees, Burning up the stately fir-trees, Rushing ever further onward, Burned up half the land of Pohja, And the furthest bounds of Savo, Over both halves of Carelia.

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast, Followed hard upon its traces, 260 And he hastened through the forest, Close behind the furious fire, And at length he overtook it, 'Neath the roots of two great tree-stumps, In the stumps of alders hidden, In the rotten stumps he found it.