“Yes, mother, I remember,” answered the Maid of Beauty. “And he grew homesick, he pined for his own fireside, he longed to return to his kinsfolk and friends, and notwithstanding our kindness he sang not one song during all his stay with us.”
“Just so,” rejoined the aged one; “and you surely remember the noble reindeer and the swift sledge that I lent him, so that he might return to his home land?”
“Certainly, mother, there are some things that I can never forget.”
“Well, my child,” said the mother, “this is surely the same great hero, the famous Wainamoinen, the first of all minstrels. He is rich, and no doubt his ship is filled with treasures. If he has really come to woo you, treat him kindly, listen to his words of honey, and answer ‘Yes’ to every question; for never will you have a nobler suitor.” [[209]]
“But, mother, I like him not,” answered the Maid of Beauty.
Then she turned away from the sea, weary of looking at the approaching vessel. Her eyes wandered to the bleak, brown meadows, and she gazed wistfully towards the pathway which led from the distant hills. There she beheld the other visitor, speeding forward, drawing nearer, and now in plain view from the spot where she was standing.
Young and proud and strong seemed this landward comer. He was sitting in a sledge of scarlet and driving a steed of rare swiftness. Six cuckoos were sitting on the dashboard, all loudly calling; and beside them were seven bluebirds twittering blithely as birds are wont to twitter in the joyous springtime.
“See, mother, here comes the other stranger!” said the Maid of Beauty.
“Nay, nay, he is no stranger,” answered Dame Louhi, speaking hoarsely. “He is the poor young Smith who forged the Sampo for me, and his name is Ilmarinen. He brings no gifts, he has no treasures, for his only wealth is his little smithy. What business has he in Pohyola?” [[210]]
“Perhaps he comes to claim his wages that are due him,” modestly answered the dutiful daughter.