Rune XLVI-b

Rest in peace, thou much-loved Otso, Turn about within thy thickets, Like the partridge at her brooding, In the spring-time like the wild-goose." When the ancient Wainamoinen Heard his dog bark in the forest, Heard his hunter's call and echo, He addressed the words that follow: "Thought it was the cuckoo calling, Thought the pretty bird was singing; It was not the sacred cuckoo, Not the liquid notes of songsters, 'Twas my dog that called and murmured, 'Twas the echo of my hunter At the cavern-doors of Otso, On the border of the woodlands." Wainamoinen, old and trusty, Finds the mighty bear in waiting, Lifts in joy the golden covers, Well inspects his shining fur-robes; Lifts his honey-paws in wonder, Then addresses his Creator: "Be thou praised, O mighty Ukko, As thou givest me great Otso, Givest me the Forest-apple, Thanks be paid to thee unending." To the bear he spake these measures: "Otso, thou my well beloved, Honey-eater of the woodlands, Let not anger swell thy bosom; I have not the force to slay thee, Willingly thy life thou givest As a sacrifice to Northland. Thou hast from the tree descended, Glided from the aspen branches, Slippery the trunks in autumn, In the fog-days, smooth the branches. Golden friend of fen and forest, In thy fur-robes rich and beauteous, Pride of woodlands, famous Light-foot, Leave thy cold and cheerless dwelling, Leave thy home within the alders, Leave thy couch among the willows, Hasten in thy purple stockings, Hasten from thy walks restricted, Come among the haunts of heroes, Join thy friends in Kalevala. We shall never treat thee evil, Thou shalt dwell in peace and plenty, Thou shalt feed on milk and honey, Honey is the food of strangers. Haste away from this thy covert, From the couch of the unworthy, To a couch beneath the rafters Of Wainola's ancient dwellings. Haste thee onward o'er the snow-plain, As a leaflet in the autumn; Skip beneath these birchen branches, As a squirrel in the summer, As a cuckoo in the spring-time." Wainamoinen, the magician, The eternal wisdom-singer, O'er the snow-fields hastened homeward, Singing o'er the hills and mountains, With his guest, the ancient Otso, With his friend, the famous Light-foot, With the Honey-paw of Northland. Far away was heard the singing, Heard the playing of the hunter, Heard the songs of Wainamoinen; All the people heard and wondered, Men and maidens, young and aged, From their cabins spake as follows: "Hear the echoes from the woodlands, Hear the bugle from the forest, Hear the flute-notes of the songsters, Hear the pipes of forest-maidens!" Wainamoinen, old and trusty, Soon appears within the court-yard. Rush the people from their cabins, And the heroes ask these questions: "Has a mine of gold been opened, Hast thou found a vein of silver, Precious jewels in thy pathway? Does the forest yield her treasures, Give to thee the Honey-eater?