CHAPTER XI
THE HOMESICK HERO
The sunlight was streaming white and yellow, over sea and land. The wild geese were honking among the reeds. The swallows were twittering under the eaves. The maids were milking the reindeer in the paddock behind Dame Louhi’s dwelling. Ilmarinen had slept late. He rose hurriedly and hastened to go out, not to listen to the varied sounds of the morning, but to ponder concerning the great problem that was soon to be solved.
He opened the door, but quickly started back, trembling, and pale. What had he seen to give him pause, to cause him to be frightened? Right before him, so near that he might have touched her with his hand, stood the Maid of Beauty. Her cheeks were like the dawn of a summer’s morning; her lips were like two ripe, red berries with rows of pearls between; her eyes were like glorious suns, shining softly in the midst of heaven. Who would not have [[98]]trembled in the presence of such marvellous beauty?
Ilmarinen was overcome with bashfulness. He stammered, he paused, he looked into those wonderful eyes and was covered with confusion. Then he spoke to his own heart and said, “Why am I so cowardly—I who have hitherto feared nothing under the sun? I will be brave. I will ask her the momentous question and abide by her answer.”
So, with quivering lips and downcast eyes he spoke: “Fairest of maidens, my task is done. I have forged the Sampo, I have hammered its marvellous lid, I have proved myself worthy to be called the Prince of Smiths. Will you not now go with me to my far distant home—to the Land of Heroes in the sunny south? There you shall be my queen; you shall rule my house, keep my kitchen, sit at the head of the table. O Maid of Beauty, it was for you that I forged the Sampo and performed those acts of magic which no other man would dare to undertake. Be kind, and disappoint me not.”
The maiden answered softly, and she blushed as she spoke: “Why should I leave my own sweet home to go and live with strangers, to be [[99]]a poor man’s wife in a poor and distant land? My mother’s hall would be desolate; her kitchen would be cold and ill-cared for were I to go away. She herself would grieve and die of loneliness.”
“Nay,” said Ilmarinen, “she is not the sort of woman to feel sorrow; her heart is too hard to be crushed so easily.”
“But there are others who would miss me,” said the maiden softly. “If I should go away, who would feed the reindeer at the break of day? Who, in the early springtime, would welcome the cuckoo and answer his joyous song? Who, in the short summer, would caress the wildflowers in the wooded nooks and sing to the violets in the meadows? Who, in the autumn, would pick the red cranberries in our marshes? Who, at winter’s beginning, would tell the songbirds to fly southward, and who would cheer the wild geese on their way to summer lands?”
The Smith had now grown bolder, and he answered wisely: “The cuckoo comes to my country as well as yours. There are flowers in the forests of Wainola more beautiful than any in this chilly land. There are cranberries in our [[100]]marshes also, redder and larger than any you have ever picked. The songbirds live in the Land of Heroes half of every year, and the wild geese tarry there and build their nests in the sedgy inlets.”