Three score and ten days, three score and ten nights, were the measure of his journey; and at length he found himself on the shore of a mighty river, deep, dark, and sluggish. He looked, and on the farther side he saw a gray castle and a [[127]]long white shore, and he knew that it was Tuoni’s land—the land of silence and of mystery. He walked up and down the river bank, hoping to find some way to cross, but the water was everywhere deep, and the current, although sluggish, was everywhere strong. At length, however, he saw a sort of landing-place, where was a post for mooring a boat, and at the top of the post was a sign-board with words painted upon it:
FERRY TO TUONELA
CALL TO THE KEEPER ON THE FARTHER SHORE;
THE KEEPER WILL QUICKLY FERRY YOU O’ER.
Wainamoinen stood upon the sand and shouted with all his might:
“Ho! Keeper of the ferry! Bring thy boat quickly. Here is a traveller who desires to be carried over the water. Haste thee hither!”
The unwonted sound of a human voice rolled thunderously across the river, stirring the sluggish stream to its very depths; it awakened the echoes in the distant colorless hills of Tuonela, and with deafening roar broke the silence of ages. [[128]]
The water-door of the castle opened, and a dwarfish maiden came forth, looking inquiringly across the river. Very small she was, but well-shaped and comely. Her eyes gleamed like lightning and her face was stern and pitiless. She was the daughter of Tuoni, and to her belonged the duty of keeping the ferry whereby the shades of mortals were carried to her father’s kingdom. Sharply, and in shrill, cutting tones, she answered the call of the Minstrel:
“Who are you who calls so lustily? Why have you come to this river with body so strong and active? Tell me truly if you would be ferried to Tuonela.”
The Minstrel was old and cunning, and because he feared to tell the maiden the truth, he answered her with guileful words: “I am a poor woodsman from the Land of Heroes. Yesterday, as I was felling a tree, your father, Tuoni, smote me. He smote me and made me his thrall; he made me his thrall and bade me come hither to his kingdom. This is why I stand on the shore and call to you so lustily.”
“You speak falsely!” cried the dwarfish maiden, with anger in her tones. “If my father had made you his thrall, he would be with you [[129]]now. His hat would be on your head and his gloves would be on your hands. His mark would be on your forehead and your voice would not resound like thunder upon the water. Tell me who you are, and tell me truly, or never will I ferry you to Tuonela.”