[[51]]
The Minstrel from his sledge could see the smithy from which the music came—a long, low building of logs in the very centre of the grove. It was dark and dingy and begrimed with smoke, but through the open door the fire of the forge glowed brightly, lighting up the whole interior and revealing even the smallest object; and there, before his anvil, stood the Smith, swinging his hammer and twirling his tongs and thinking only of his pleasant work.
Wainamoinen leaped from his sledge and ran forward; he stood in the doorway and called loudly to his busy friend:
“Hail, ho, Ilmarinen! Hail, dearest brother!”
The astonished Smith dropped his tongs; he threw his hammer down; he ran to greet his unexpected visitor.
“O Wainamoinen!” he cried. “Wainamoinen, prince of minstrels, wisest of men, best of friends—welcome, welcome! How glad I am to see you!”
“And how sweet it is to grasp your hand again,” said the Minstrel warmly. “Oh, what joy to see home and comrades and country once again!”
Ilmarinen led the Minstrel into the smithy; [[52]]he made him sit down on the edge of his workbench; and all the time he kept his arm around his neck in loving, brotherly embrace. Each gazed into the other’s eyes, and for a time not another word was spoken—the hearts of both were so full of joy.
At length the Smith made out to stammer, “Tell me, my brother, where have you been these many months?”
“Far from home, Ilmarinen—yes, very far,” answered the Minstrel. “I have been tossed on the sea; I have been in many countries; I have seen the whole vast world.”