So busy, indeed, was the master Smith that he heard nothing, saw nothing, thought of nothing, save the work which he had in hand; therefore, when his sister Anniki came suddenly to the outer door and called to him, he did not hear her. [[179]]
“Ilmarinen, dearest brother!” she repeated. But the Smith, invisible in the midst of the smoke, did not hear her. He kept on singing and hammering and blowing his bellows, altogether forgetful of everything save the work in hand.
Anniki called a third time, a fourth, “Ilmarinen! O Ilmarinen!” But the hammer continued to strike, the anvil kept on singing, the fire in the forge flamed higher, and there was no pause in the Smith’s sweet singing. His thoughts were centred on the trinket he was forging and shaping, but his song was of a maiden in a far-away land.
Anniki called a fifth time. Then, losing patience, she ran through the thick of the smoke and seized her brother’s arm just as he was taking a fresh bit of glowing metal from the fire.
“Ho! little sister of the morning!” he cried in surprise. “What now? Have you finished your washing? Have you brought me something from the shore?”
“Yes, yes, dear brother!” she answered, still breathless from running and excitement. “I’ve brought you a great secret. What’ll you give [[180]]me for it? It’s about Wainamoinen and the Maid of Beauty. Would you like me to tell it to you?”
“Well, if it’s anything important I will listen,” said Ilmarinen. “So, out with it quickly, before this piece of metal gets cold. Tell me your wonderful secret.”
“Oh, but it is too important to give away,” said his sister. “It concerns you, and the Maid of Beauty, and the Frozen Land, and the Sampo, and, and—Well, wouldn’t you like to know what it is?”
“Tell me all about it, Anniki.”
“What will you give me if I do?”