Then from out of the shadows an old man, feeble and tottering, came to meet him. It was Wainamoinen, pale with fasting, gaunt with hunger, but brave and steadfast as in former days.
“Hail, stranger!” said the Minstrel. “Welcome to Wainola and to the best that its people can offer!”
“Hail, friend and brother!” answered the stranger heartily and with gentleness. He lifted the cap which had concealed his forehead, he loosed the broad scarf that had been well drawn up about his chin and cheeks. His ruddy face was wrinkled with sorrow although for the moment it was wreathed in smiles.
The Minstrel old and feeble uttered a cry of joy. “O Ilmarinen! Ilmarinen! Have you returned? [[294]]We had mourned you as dead! We had given you up as lost!” And the next moment each was locked in the other’s arms.
“Now, tell me, my young brother, where have you been since you departed from Wainola and the Land of Heroes? Word came to us that you had perished, that you had gone to dwell in Tuonela; and when this great blight of famine and sorrow came upon the land, we were fain to believe that it was indeed so. Why did you leave us? Where have you been?”
“I went away from Wainola because of my sorrow,” answered Ilmarinen sadly. “I went to the far North Land, to Pohyola’s shores, because the voice of my dear lost Maid of Beauty seemed to call me thither. For twelve months—yes, for two long, sorrowing years—I sought her in that land. But Tuoni holds her captive in his castle beside the river of silence. She cannot come to me, but I can go to her. I am even now seeking the road to Tuonela.”
“You need not go far to find it,” said the Minstrel. “Look around you and see your neighbors starving, dying—hear your neighbors’ children moaning, crying. The road to Tuonela is here, and many are the feet that are travelling [[295]]in it. But tell me, was it thus in Pohyola? Have they a famine there also?”
“A famine! Far from it,” answered Ilmarinen. “Never was there a more prosperous people than those of Pohyola. They plough, they sow, they reap in great abundance. Of grain and fruit there is no end, and no man nor woman, child nor dog, knows the meaning of hunger.”
“How strange that a land of mists and fogs, a land so dreary and forbidding, should be so blessed with plenty!” said the Minstrel. “Is it by some power of magic that this is so? Why is it that you, the prince of wizards, cannot find some way to bless and save our own kinsmen, our own people?”
“Do you remember the Sampo?” said the Smith. “Do you remember the magic mill which I made for Dame Louhi many years ago? That mill is still grinding in Pohyola, its lid of many colors turns and turns and turns forever. Safely locked in a stony cavern, still it grinds wealth and food and clothing without end. The soil draws richness from it, the fields of grain thrive upon its grindings, the fruit trees send their roots downward and suck up the wealth which it pours out.” [[296]]