CANTO VII

THE RETURN OF THE KALEVIDE

The Kalevide slept till the following morning, and when at length he

awoke he tried in vain to recollect the events of the day before. He

could not remember whether he had been in Finland or on the island, or

whether he had been engaged in battle. He had no remembrance of having

slain the smith's son; but he got up half-dazed, and walked on without

stopping till he reached the seashore on the third day afterwards. Here

he found the sorcerer's boat; so he stepped into it, hoisted sail, and

set off homewards.

Kalev's offspring was not weary,

For his back was like an oak-tree,

And his shoulders gnarled and knotted,

And his arms like trunks of oak-trees,

And like elm-trees were his elbows,

And his fingers spread like branches,

And his finger-nails like boxwood,

And his loins like hardened iron.

[Pg 50]

The Kalevide was now in high spirits, and began to sing a song,

in which he pictured himself as going on a voyage, and meeting

three shiploads of enchantresses, old and young, whose

blandishments he resisted. But as he approached the shores of

Esthonia, the fresh sea-breeze dispelled the mists that still

clouded his memory, and the blood-stained sword and the

splashes of blood on his clothes bore witness of the murder he

had committed.

About midnight he approached the small island where the maiden

had fallen into the sea, and the whole sad scene arose again

before his imagination. And now he could hear the maiden

singing a sad song beneath the waves, lamenting her sad fate,

and yet more the evil lot of her brother, who had slain the son

of his father's old friend.

[46] The blood from the sword reddened the cheeks of the

maiden, and a long and terrible penance lay before her brother.

For a while the hero sat lost in thought, bitterly lamenting

the past; but presently he roused himself, and proceeded on his

voyage, singing a lamentation for his mother beginning:

[Pg 51]

Where upgrows the weeping alder,

And the aspen of confusion,

And the pine-tree of distraction,

And the deep remorse of birch-tree?

Where I sorrow, springs the alder;

Where I tremble, sprouts the aspen;

Where I weep, the pine is verdant;

Where I suffer, sighs the birch-tree.

Next morning the Kalevide reached the shore, made fast the boat, and

went homewards; but as he passed Mount Iru, where the form of his

mother stood, his steps were arrested by the sweet singing of her

unseen spirit in the wind. She sang how the young eagle had soared from

the nest in youthful innocence, and had returned stained with crime. He

knew now that his mother was dead, and realised more fully the two

crimes which weighed upon his soul—the one committed thoughtlessly and

without evil intent, and the other without his knowledge, when he was

not master of himself. He hastened on, and when he reached home his

brothers, who had long mourned him as dead, received him with open

arms.

In the evening the three brothers sat together and related

their adventures. The first sang how he had wandered in search

of his mother over vast

[Pg 52]

regions, and through a great part of Courland, Poland, Russia,

Germany, and Norway, and had met on his wanderings maidens of

tin, copper, silver, and gold. But only the golden daughter of

the Gold King could speak, and she directed him along a path

which would lead him to a beautiful maiden who could reply to

his question. He hurried on a long way, and at last met a

rosy-cheeked maiden of flesh and bone, who replied to his

questions that she had seen no traces of his mother, and the

hawk must have flown away with her. But she invited him to her

village, where he would find plenty of rich and beautiful

maidens. He answered that he had not come to choose a wife,

but to seek his mother.

Then the second brother sang how he also had wandered a long way, but

at last reached a cottage where he found an old man and woman, whom he

saluted and asked for tidings. They made no reply, and only the cat

mewed in answer.

He went on farther, and met a wolf; but when he asked if he had

seen his mother, he only opened his mouth to grin at him. Next

he met the bear, who only growled, but finally the cuckoo

[47] directed

[Pg 53]

him through a wood and across a green meadow to some maidens

who would give him information. When he reached the spot, he

found four beautiful maidens in elegant attire, who told him

that they had been wandering about the woods and meadows every

day, but had seen nothing of his mother, and they thought she

must have flown away. They recommended him to seek a wife; but

he answered that a young wife could not fill the place of his

dear lost mother.

Then the youngest brother related his adventures; but he said nothing

about the fatal brawl at the smith's feast, nor of the sad songs of the

island-maiden and of the spirit of his mother.

Then the eldest brother remarked that they knew not what had become of

their mother, but their parents were no more, and they must shift for

themselves, so he proposed a trial to decide which of the three should

rule as king in the land. The second brother agreed, and the third

proposed that the trial should take place next day, and be decided

according to the will of Taara.

In the evening, before twilight had quite given way to night,

the youngest son took his handkerchief, which was wet with

tears, and climbed up

[Pg 54]

his father's cairn. And his father asked from below:

"Who disturbs the sandy hillock,

With his feet the grave disturbing,

Stamping with his heels the gravel,

And the gravestone thus disturbing?"

The hero besought his father to rise up and stroke his hair and speak

to him; but his father answered that he had long lain in his grave; his

bones were decayed, and the grass and moss grew over him, and he could

not rise. Let the wind and the sun caress his son. The son answered

that the wind only blew sometimes, and the sun only shone by day, but

Taara lives for ever. And the father told him not to weep or grieve,

for the spirit of his dead father should follow him throughout his

life, and that the good gods would protect him even through the desert

wastes of the waters of the ocean; and he also counselled him to do his

best to atone for every fault and error.

[Pg 55]

The Hero of Esthonia and Other Studies in the Romantic Literature of That Country · 第 7 / 25 章