RUNE XXIX
THE ISLE OF REFUGE

 
  Lemminkainen, full of joyance,
  Handsome hero, Kaukomieli,
  Took provisions in abundance,
  Fish and butter, bread and bacon,
  Hastened to the Isle of Refuge,
  Sailed away across the oceans,
  Spake these measures on departing:
  "Fare thee well, mine Island-dwelling,
  I must sail to other borders,
  To an island more protective,
  Till the second summer passes;
  Let the serpents keep the island,
  Lynxes rest within the glen-wood,
  Let the blue-moose roam the mountains,
  Let the wild-geese cat the barley.
  Fare thee well, my helpful mother!
  When the warriors of the Northland,
  From the dismal Sariola,
  Come with swords, and spears, and cross-bows,
  Asking for my head in vengeance,
  Say that I have long departed,
  Left my mother's Island-dwelling,
  When the barley had been garnered."
  Then he launched his boat of copper,
  Threw the vessel to the waters,
  From the iron-banded rollers,
  From the cylinders of oak-wood,
  On the masts the sails he hoisted,
  Spread the magic sails of linen,
  In the stern the hero settled
  And prepared to sail his vessel,
  One hand resting on the rudder.
  Then the sailor spake as follows,
  These the words of Lemminkainen:
  "Blow, ye winds, and drive me onward,
  Blow ye steady, winds of heaven,
  Toward the island in the ocean,
  That my bark may fly in safety
  To my father's place of refuge,
  To the far and nameless island!"
  Soon the winds arose as bidden,
  Rocked the vessel o'er the billows,
  O'er the blue-back of the waters,
  O'er the vast expanse of ocean;
  Blew two months and blew unceasing,
  Blew a third month toward the island,
  Toward his father's Isle of Refuge.
  Sat some maidens on the seaside,
  On the sandy beach of ocean,
  Turned about in all directions,
  Looking out upon the billows;
  One was waiting for her brother,
  And a second for her father,
  And a third one, anxious, waited
  For the coming of her suitor;
  There they spied young Lemminkainen,
  There perceived the hero's vessel
  Sailing o'er the bounding billows;
  It was like a hanging cloudlet,
  Hanging twixt the earth and heaven.
  Thus the island-maidens wondered,
  Thus they spake to one another:
  "What this stranger on the ocean,
  What is this upon the waters?
  Art thou one of our sea-vessels?
  Wert thou builded on this island?
  Sail thou straightway to the harbor,
  To the island-point of landing
  That thy tribe may be discovered."
  Onward did the waves propel it,
  Rocked his vessel o'er the billows,
  Drove it to the magic island,
  Safely landed Lemminkainen
  On the sandy shore and harbor.
  Spake he thus when he had landed,
  These the words that Ahti uttered:
  "Is there room upon this island,
  Is there space within this harbor,
  Where my bark may lie at anchor,
  Where the sun may dry my vessel?"
  This the answer of the virgins,
  Dwellers on the Isle of Refuge:
  "There is room within this harbor,
  On this island, space abundant,
  Where thy bark may lie at anchor,
  Where the sun may dry thy vessel;
  Lying ready are the rollers,
  Cylinders adorned with copper;
  If thou hadst a hundred vessels,
  Shouldst thou come with boats a thousand,
  We would give them room in welcome."
  Thereupon wild Lemminkainen
  Rolled his vessel in the harbor,
  On the cylinders of copper,
  Spake these words when he had ended:
  "Is there room upon this island,
  Or a spot within these forests,
  Where a hero may be hidden
  From the coming din of battle,
  From the play of spears and arrows?
  Thus replied the Island-maidens:
  "There are places on this island,
  On these plains a spot befitting
  Where to hide thyself in safety,
  Hero-son of little valor.
  Here are many, many castles,
  Many courts upon this island;
  Though there come a thousand heroes,
  Though a thousand spearmen follow,
  Thou canst hide thyself in safety."
  Spake the hero, Lemminkainen:
  "Is there room upon this island,
  Where the birch-tree grows abundant,
  Where this son may fell the forest,
  And may cultivate the fallow?"
  Answered thus the Island-maidens:
  "There is not a spot befitting,
  Not a place upon the island,
  Where to rest thy wearied members,
  Not the smallest patch of birch-wood,
  Thou canst bring to cultivation.
  All our fields have been divided,
  All these woods have been apportioned,
  Fields and forests have their owners."
  Lemminkainen asked this question,
  These the words of Kaukomieli:
  "Is there room upon this island,
  Worthy spot in field or forest,
  Where to Sing my songs of magic,
  Chant my gathered store of wisdom,
  Sing mine ancient songs and legends?"
  Answered thus the Island-maidens:
  "There is room upon this island,
  Worthy place in these dominions,
  Thou canst sing thy garnered wisdom,
  Thou canst chant thine ancient legends,
  Legends of the times primeval,
  In the forest, in the castle,
  On the island-plains and pastures."
  Then began the reckless minstrel
  To intone his wizard-sayings;
  Sang he alders to the waysides,
  Sang the oaks upon the mountains,
  On the oak-trees sang be branches,
  On each branch he sang an acorn,
  On the acorns, golden rollers,
  On each roller, sang a cuckoo;
  Then began the cuckoos, calling,
  Gold from every throat came streaming,
  Copper fell from every feather,
  And each wing emitted silver,
  Filled the isle with precious metals.
  Sang again young Lemminkainen,
  Conjured on, and sang, and chanted,
  Sang to precious stones the sea-sands,
  Sang the stones to pearls resplendent,
  Robed the groves in iridescence,
  Sang the island full of flowers,
  Many-colored as the rainbow.
  Sang again the magic minstrel,
  In the court a well he conjured,
  On the well a golden cover,
  On the lid a silver dipper,
  That the boys might drink the water,
  That the maids might lave their eyelids.
  On the plains he conjured lakelets,
  Sang the duck upon the waters,
  Golden-cheeked and silver-headed,
  Sang the feet from shining copper;
  And the Island-maidens wondered,
  Stood entranced at Ahti's wisdom,
  At the songs of Lemminkainen,
  At the hero's magic power.
  Spake the singer, Lemminkainen,
  Handsome hero, Kaukomieli:
  "I would sing a wondrous legend,
  Sing in miracles of sweetness,
  If within some hall or chamber,
  I were seated at the table.
  If I sing not in the castle,
  In some spot by walls surrounded
  Then I sing my songs to zephyrs,
  Fling them to the fields and forests."
  Answered thus the Island-maidens:
  "On this isle are castle-chambers,
  Halls for use of magic singers,
  Courts complete for chanting legends,
  Where thy singing will be welcome,
  Where thy songs will not be scattered
  To the forests of the island,
  Nor thy wisdom lost in ether."
  Straightway Lemminkainen journeyed
  With the maidens to the castle;
  There he sang and conjured pitchers
  On the borders of the tables,
  Sang and conjured golden goblets
  Foaming with the beer of barley;
  Sang he many well-filled vessels,
  Bowls of honey-drink abundant,
  Sweetest butter, toothsome biscuit,
  Bacon, fish, and veal, and venison,
  All the dainties of the Northland,
  Wherewithal to still his hunger.
  But the proud-heart, Lemminkainen,
  Was not ready for the banquet,
  Did not yet begin his feasting,
  Waited for a knife of silver,
  For a knife of golden handle;
  Quick he sang the precious metals,
  Sang a blade from purest silver,
  To the blade a golden handle,
  Straightway then began his feasting,
  Quenched his thirst and stilled his hunger,
  Charmed the maidens on the island.
  Then the minstrel, Lemminkainen,
  Roamed throughout the island-hamlets,
  To the joy of all the virgins,
  All the maids of braided tresses;
  Wheresoe'er he turned his footsteps,
  There appeared a maid to greet him;
  When his hand was kindly offered,
  There his band was kindly taken;
  When he wandered out at evening,
  Even in the darksome places,
  There the maidens bade him welcome;
  There was not an island-village
  Where there were not seven castles,
  In each castle seven daughters,
  And the daughters stood in waiting,
  Gave the hero joyful greetings,
  Only one of all the maidens
  Whom he did not greet with pleasure.
  Thus the merry Lemminkainen
  Spent three summers in the ocean,
  Spent a merry time in refuge,
  In the hamlets on the island,
  To the pleasure of the maidens,
  To the joy of all the daughters;
  Only one was left neglected,
  She a poor and graceless spinster,
  On the isle's remotest border,
  In the smallest of the hamlets.
  'Then he thought about his journey
  O'er the ocean to his mother,
  To the cottage of his father.
  There appeared the slighted spinster,
  To the Northland son departing,
  Spake these words to Lemminkainen:
  "O, thou handsome Kaukomieli,
  Wisdom-bard, and magic singer,
  Since this maiden thou hast slighted,
  May the winds destroy thy vessel,
  Dash thy bark to countless fragments
  On the ocean-rocks and ledges!"
  Lemminkainen's thoughts were homeward,
  Did not heed the maiden's murmurs,
  Did not rise before the dawning
  Of the morning on the island,
  To the pleasure of the maiden
  Of the much-neglected hamlet.
  Finally at close of evening,
  He resolved to leave the island,
  He resolved to waken early,
  Long before the dawn of morning;
  Long before the time appointed,
  He arose that he might wander
  Through the hamlets of the island,
  Bid adieu to all the maidens,
  On the morn of his departure.
  As he wandered hither, thither,
  Walking through the village path-ways
  To the last of all the hamlets;
  Saw he none of all the castle-,
  Where three dwellings were not standing;
  Saw he none of all the dwellings
  Where three heroes were not watching;
  Saw he none of all the heroes,
  Who was not engaged in grinding
  Swords, and spears, and battle-axes,
  For the death of Lemminkainen.
  And these words the hero uttered:
  "Now alas! the Sun arises
  From his couch within the ocean,
  On the frailest of the heroes,
  On the saddest child of Northland;
  On my neck the cloak of Lempo
  Might protect me from all evil,
  Though a hundred foes assail me,
  Though a thousand archers follow."
  Then he left the maids ungreeted,
  Left his longing for the daughters
  Of the nameless Isle of Refuge,
  With his farewell-words unspoken,
  Hastened toward the island-harbor,
  Toward his magic bark at anchor;
  But he found it burned to ashes,
  Sweet revenge had fired his vessel,
  Lighted by the slighted spinster.
  Then he saw the dawn of evil,