Rune L. Meanwhile there had been dwelling in the Northland a happy maiden named Mariatta, who, wandering on the hillsides, once asked the cuckoo how long she would remain unmarried, and heard a magic voice bid her gather a certain berry.  No sooner had she done so than the berry popped into her mouth, and soon after she bore a child, which being the offspring of a berry was to be called Flower.  Because her mother indignantly cast her off, she wandered about seeking a place where she could give birth to her child.  She was finally compelled to take refuge in the manger of the fiery steed of Hisi, where her infant was charitably warmed by the firesteed’s breath.  But once, while the mother was slumbering, the child vanished, and the mother vainly sought it until the Sun informed her she would find it sleeping among the reeds and rushes in Swamp-land.

  Mariatta, child of beauty,
  Virgin-mother of the Northland,
  Straightway seeks her babe in Swamp-land,
  Finds him in the reeds and rushes;
  Takes the young child on her bosom
  To the dwelling of her father.

Mariatta soon discovered him there, growing in grace and beauty, but priests refused to baptize him because he was considered a wizard.  When Wainamoinen sentenced the mother to death, the infant, although only two weeks old, hotly reproached him, declaring that, although guilty of many follies, his people have always forgiven him.  Hearing this, Wainamoinen, justly rebuked, baptized the child, who in time grew up to be a hero and became the greatest warrior in the land.

Wainamoinen, having grown feeble with passing years, finally built for himself a copper vessel, wherein, after singing a farewell song, he sailed “out into the west,” and vanished in the midst of the sunset clouds, leaving behind him as an inheritance to his people his wondrous songs.

    Thus the ancient Wainamoinen,
  In his copper-banded vessel,
  Left his tribe in Kalevala,
  Sailing o’er the rolling billows,
  Sailing through the azure vapors,
  Sailing through the dusk of evening,
  Sailing to the fiery sunset,
  To the higher-landed regions,
  To the lower verge of heaven;
  Quickly gained the far horizon,
  Gained the purple-colored harbor,
  There his bark he firmly anchored,
  Rested in his boat of copper;
  But he left his harp of magic,
  Left his songs and wisdom-sayings,
  To the lasting joy of Suomi.

The poem concludes with an epilogue, wherein the bard declares it contains many of the folk-tales of his native country, and that as far as rhythm is concerned—­

  “Nature was my only teacher,
  Woods and waters my instructors.”

FOOTNOTES: 

[Footnote 36:  All the quotations in this chapter are from Crawford’s translation of the “Kalevala.”]

THE EPICS OF CENTRAL EUROPE AND OF THE BALKAN PENINSULA