“They must have carried it to their red-prowed ship,” said another old man, “for the haven where it was moored is empty and no crimson sail is anywhere in sight.”
Dame Louhi, grim and old and haggard, fell into the greatest fury. She stormed, she screamed, she wept, she prayed. “O Maiden of the Air,” she cried, “O queen and ruler of the mists and stormclouds! Send me help I pray thee. Cover the sea with dense fogs and clouds of vapor. Send down the winds and let [[342]]the tempest rage round those wicked robbers. O Maiden, sink them all beneath the billows, but save the Sampo. Let it not fall into the raging sea, but hold it in thy large hands and bring it safe back to Pohyola’s lovely shore.”
The Maiden of the Air heard her and was pleased with her prayer. She called to her servants, the mists, the clouds, and the winds, to wreak vengeance upon the heroes, to drive their ship far out of its course and sink it in the bottomless sea.
Forthwith thick clouds obscured the sky and dense fogs covered the waters like a cloak of darkness. The winds rose in fury and a mighty storm swept down from above. All the winds, save the North Wind alone, assailed the heroes’ gallant vessel. The mast was splintered just above the sail-yard, the red sail itself was blown away, the rudder was unmanageable, all the oars were made useless, so terrible were the winds and the tossing waves.
Like a withered leaf of autumn the ship was driven hither and thither through the mists and fearful darkness. The young men hid their faces, and the golden-haired maidens cowered beneath the benches. The nimble Ahti, cause [[343]]of all this trouble, lay prone upon the deck speechless with fright. Even the hero Ilmarinen crouched himself down in the narrow hold and bewailed their great misfortune.
“Never before have I seen such a storm as this,” he moaned. “My hair is soaked with salt-water and my beard trembles with the shaking of the ship. My very heart thumps wildly as I hear the noise of the mighty tempest. O winds, have pity! O waves, deal gently with us all!”
The Minstrel, alone of all on board, stood up fearless and calm and steadfast as though no danger threatened.
“This is no place for weeping,” he said. “You cannot save yourselves by howling. Groaning will not preserve you from evil, nor will grunting dispel misfortune.”
He raised his hands high above his head and called upon all the powers of air and sky and sea to befriend the heroes in their dire distress.
“O sea, so vast, so grand, remember that we are small and weak, and deal gently with us! O waves, do not play too roughly with us, do not fill our ship with water, do not break her ribs or hull beams. O winds, rise up higher [[344]]and play with the clouds in heaven. Drive away the mists that blind us, but blow gently upon our crimson vessel, and waft, oh! waft it safely southward to the shores of Hero Land.”