THE FIGHT WITH THE SORCERER'S SONS
As the Kalevide proceeded on his way, carrying his heavy load
of planks, the sorcerer's three sons rushed upon him from an
ambush close to a high waterfall which foams over steep rocks.
He had been walking quietly along, and the man in his wallet
had fallen comfortably asleep. The villains sprang upon the
hero from behind, armed with slender young birch-trees and dry
pine-trunks. Two of them carried long whips, the handle formed
of strong beech-wood, and the lash armed with a great
millstone, with which they belaboured the hero unmercifully. He
had just armed himself with a huge club, in case he should be
assaulted in passing through the wood. It was a great
pine-trunk from which he had broken the crown. It was
five-and-thirty ells long, and two feet thick at the thick end,
and with this he could defend himself as with a sword.
[Pg 81]
The Kalevide tried at first to remonstrate with his assailants,
but as they continued to annoy him he rushed upon them with his
club. The pine club was soon splintered, the fragments flying
in all directions, and then the Kalevide defended himself with
the planks which he was carrying, and at every blow he smashed
one on the backs of his enemies. Presently his load was nearly
exhausted, and the sorcerer's sons, hoping now for an easy
victory, pressed him more hardly, when suddenly he heard a
little voice crying from the bushes, "Dear son of Kalev, strike
them with the edges!"
[61] The hero at once took the hint, and, instead of striking
with the flat side of the planks, began to strike with the
sharp edges, and his enemies soon fled before him, howling like
wolves. If the savages had not been thoroughly hardened by long
exposure to heat and cold by day and night, he would have left
them dead on the field.
The Kalevide sat down to rest after the battle, and called to
his dear brother, who had aided him, to show himself. But his
friend answered
[Pg 82]
that he could not venture out into the open, for he was only a
poor naked little hedgehog. So the hero called to him to come,
and he would clothe him. The hedgehog crept out of his warm
nest, naked and shivering, and the hero cut a piece from the
lining of his own coat, and gave it to the hedgehog, who
joyfully wrapped himself in the warm covering. But the piece
was not large enough to cover him entirely, and his legs and
belly remained naked as before.
The Kalevide now wanted to sleep, but he was in the midst of a
swamp. He therefore fetched a load of sand from the distant
sandhills, to make himself a bed. He then felt into his bag for
something to eat, when his thumb came against the cold stiff
body of his little friend, who had been killed in his sleep by
a chance blow during the fight, without having had time to cry
out or move a limb. He was much grieved at the untimely death
of his _protégé_, and dug him a grave with his own hands, round
which he planted berry-bearing bushes. Then he ate his supper
and fell asleep, to dream of the events of the past day.
While he was asleep, the sorcerer himself crept
[Pg 83]
to his side, and by his spells and incantations, and the use
of magic herbs, threw him into a deep slumber, which lasted
for days and nights. Presently a messenger came in haste to
summon the king, and the cup-bearer directed him to Lake
Peipus; but no one had seen or heard anything of him.
On a fine summer's day, the people flocked from all parts of the
country to the sacred hill of Taara for a great festival, and as yet
there came no news of the king. Summer faded into autumn, and the
Kalevide still slept on, but he was dreaming of a new sword, much
better than the uncle of his father Kalev had forged for him, which was
forged in an underground smithy.
This sword had been forged by the pupils of Ilmarine
[62] in a workshop in the interior of a great mountain at the
middle point of the earth, the peak of which was lost in the
clouds. Seven strong smiths wrought it with copper hammers, the
handles of which were of silver, and one of their company
turned it on the fire or laid it on the anvil with tongs of the
purest silver, while Ilmarine himself watched every stroke of
the hammers.
[Pg 84]
Presently a young man entered, pale and covered with blood, and
he only touched his cap without further salutation, and cried
out to the workmen not to waste the sword on the murderous son
of Kalev, who could slay his best friends in his rage. The
Kalevide tried to cry out that it was false, but the son of the
old Tühja
[63] oppressed him with a nightmare, and he could not utter a
word; he felt as if a mountain lay upon his breast, and the
sweat ran from his face.
On the following morning the Kalevide awoke from his sleep. He knew
that the vision of the smithy was a dream, but he was not aware that he
had slept for seven weeks without intermission. He found that his
planks were nearly all destroyed, and determined to fetch a fresh load
from Pleskau.
When he came to the lake, he heard a boy shouting for help. It
was a herd-boy, whose favourite lamb was being carried off by a
wolf. He killed the wolf with a stone,
[64] and then stood by the lake considering what to do next.
Presently he decided to build a bridge across the "puddle;"
[Pg 85]
and built it out into the lake for perhaps a couple of miles,
when a great storm arose and swept away the unfinished
structure. When he saw his work destroyed, he said, "Why
didn't I wade straight through, as I did before, instead of
wasting my time like this?" So he caught a supply of crayfish,
which he roasted and ate, and then set out on his journey
through the water.
On the shores of Lake Peipus lived a poor orphan boy, who had
lost all dear to him by famine, pestilence, and war, and who
was now compelled to slave as herd-boy for a hard mistress,
[65] and to mind the children as well as to look after the
sheep and goats. He sang sad songs, till at length the
wood-nymph took compassion on him, and sang to him one evening
from the summit of an oak-tree, telling him that good luck
would be his in the morning. Next morning he found a lark's egg
hidden among leaves, which he hid in his bosom next his heart
wrapped in wool and a strip of linen. A mouse was hatched from
it, which he fostered in the same way till it became
[Pg 86]
a kitten, a puppy, a lamb, and at length a sheep
[66] with fine white wool, and the sheep was so dear to the boy
that he left off weeping and lamenting, and always felt happy
and contented, though his lot was still a hard one.
[Pg 87]