Rune XXIX-f

When the hero's feast had ended, Straightway was a magic vessel Given by the kindly hostess To the weary Kaukomieli, Bark of beauty, new and hardy, Wherewithal to aid the stranger In his journey to his home-land, To the cottage of his mother. Quickly sailed wild Lemminkainen On the blue-back of the ocean; Sailed he days and nights unceasing, Till at last he reached the borders Of his own loved home and country; There beheld he scenes familiar, Saw the islands, capes, and rivers, Saw his former shipping-stations, Saw he many ancient landmarks, Saw the mountains with their fir-trees, Saw the pine-trees on the hill-tops, Saw the willows in the lowlands; Did not see his father's cottage, Nor the dwellings of his mother. Where a mansion once had risen, There the alder-trees were growing, Shrubs were growing on the homestead, Junipers within the court-yard. Spake the reckless Lemminkainen: "In this glen I played and wandered, On these stones I rocked for ages, On this lawn I rolled and tumbled, Frolicked on these woodland-borders, When a child of little stature. Where then is my mother's dwelling, Where the castles of my father? Fire, I fear, has found the hamlet, And the winds dispersed the ashes." Then he fell to bitter weeping, Wept one day and then a second, Wept the third day without ceasing; Did not mourn the ancient homestead, Nor the dwellings of his father; Wept he for his darling mother, Wept he for the dear departed, For the loved ones of the island. Then he saw the bird of heaven, Saw an eagle flying near him, And he asked the bird this question: "Mighty eagle, bird majestic, Grant to me the information, Where my mother may have wandered, Whither I may go and find her!" But the eagle knew but little, Only knew that Ahti's people Long ago together perished; And the raven also answered That his people had been scattered By the swords, and spears, and arrows, Of his enemies from Pohya. Spake the hero, Lemminkainen: "Faithful mother, dear departed, Thou who nursed me in my childhood, Art thou dead and turned to ashes, Didst thou perish for my follies, O'er thy head are willows weeping, Junipers above thy body, Alders watching o'er thy slumbers? This my punishment for evil, This the recompense of folly! Fool was I, a son unworthy, That I measured swords in Northland With the landlord of Pohyola, To my tribe came fell destruction, And the death of my dear mother, Through my crimes and misdemeanors." Then the ministrel [sic] looked about him, Anxious, looked in all directions, And beheld some gentle foot-prints, Saw a pathway lightly trodden Where the heather had been beaten. Quick as thought the path he followed, Through the meadows, through the brambles, O'er the hills, and through the valleys, To a forest, vast and cheerless; Travelled far and travelled farther, Still a greater distance travelled, To a dense and hidden glenwood, In the middle of the island; Found therein a sheltered cabin, Found a small and darksome dwelling Built between the rocky ledges, In the midst of triple pine-trees; And within he spied his mother, Found his gray-haired mother weeping.