“Truly do I know you,” answered the Minstrel; and, pulling in his oar, he dropped it with a crash upon the deck. “You are Anniki, the maid of the morning. You are the sister of my dearest friend, the master Smith. It was only yesterday that we sat together at the table of your good mother, Dame Lokka. So, why should I not know you?”
“Well,” said the maiden, and she laughed while speaking, “memories are sometimes short, and even a minstrel may forget. Aren’t you glad to see me?”
“Indeed, your face should make the surliest of men happy,” answered the gallant Minstrel; “but, tell me, what errand has brought you hither? Why are you here, so far from home and all alone?”
“Oh, this is our wash day,” laughed Anniki, and she danced in the water until the white bubbles floated all around her. “See these ribbons that I have just cleaned. See the clothes [[171]]that are spread on the sandy beach to dry. There are still others hanging on the bushes a little way up the shore. Don’t you think that I am in-dus-tri-ous?”
“Surely, Anniki; and you deserve to be the wife of an industrious man. I wonder how any maiden can do so much washing in one short morning.”
“Well, I get up early,” said the maiden, pirouetting in the shallow water. “I was here at the break of day, and not a minute have I been idle since. But now my work is done and I’m going to play. Tra-la-la!”
The Minstrel stood on the deck of his becalmed and motionless ship and looked at her. His face betrayed both wonder and vexation, and he muttered to himself: “She is a witch and I know it. She has done more than wash clothes. It is she that has lulled the South Wind to sleep and halted my voyage at its very beginning. She will spoil all my plans.”
Suddenly Anniki paused in the midst of her dancing and cried out, “O Wainamoinen! Where are you going in that fine boat?”
The Minstrel frowned, he pursed his lips, vexation filled his heart. Then he answered curtly, [[172]]“I am going around to the great north bay to fish for salmon.”
Anniki shrieked with laughter. “Do you think I’ll believe that story?” she said. “I know something about salmon fishing. Father and grandfather used to go out often in the season for catching such fish. Their boat was a plain one—no golden prow nor silver-plated deck nor rainbow-colored sail. It was full of nets and snares and other tackle. The decks were littered with poles and lines and fishing spears. The smell of fish filled the vessel and floated thick in the air around it. Oh, I know something about salmon fishing!”