THE LAUNCHING
All night long the Minstrel lay open-eyed upon his bed, sleepless and
alert. He called to mind all the wisdom words that he had learned from
great Wipunen; he repeated them softly, one by one, and his heart
swelled with pride when he thought of the power he had gained by
listening to the song of wisdom. Then he thought of his neglected boat,
lying high upon the shore and waiting for the finishing touches which
he was now prepared to give. And when he remembered his object in
building it he chuckled to himself, feeling that finally there was
nothing to prevent the carrying out of the plans which he had cherished
so long and so earnestly. Yes! he would finish the magic vessel, and he
would sail forthwith to the Frozen Land and win the Maid of Beauty for
his queen!
Very early in the morning he arose. The swallows under the eaves had
not yet begun to twitter at the approach of day. The cuckoo was silent
in her nest, and the cattle were slumbering in their paddock. Scarcely
was there a tinge of yellow in the eastern sky—the day was so young.
The Minstrel rose quietly and stole out of the house very cautiously—so
cautiously that the dogs who were sleeping by the doorway were not
aroused. Hastily he made his way to the seashore, the day growing
brighter with every step. Impatiently he ran to the secret spot where
his magic boat was lying.
“O little ship, so stanch, so strong!” he cried. “You shall no longer
lie there unfinished and useless. Soon you shall float on the waves,
the South Wind will caress you, the deep sea will welcome you.”
He walked slowly around the little vessel, looking at it lovingly from
every side. Three times he walked around it, three times he drew a
magic circle about it. Then, slowly and in commanding tones, he uttered
the three words of power which he had learned at so great cost of time
and trouble. Three times he pronounced them, and immediately the three
holes were bored, the three bolts were fitted therein, and the three
last planks were fastened in their proper places: the hull was
finished, the boat was water-tight and seaworthy.
The Minstrel looked at his finished work and was pleased—but he was not
yet satisfied. The hull was bare and unadorned, the copper prow was
rough and unshapely, the deck was uneven and uninviting. The boat as a
whole was not beautiful.
“O little ship,” he said, “wherefore are you so crude, so rough, so
ill-finished? Do you think that I know only three words of magic? I
know a hundred—yes, I have a thousand which I caught as they fell from
the tongue of Wipunen, the mighty master. You shall hear some of them
and profit by them.”
Thereupon he began to sing one of the strange, weird, wonderful songs
that he had learned from the Wisdom Keeper; and as he sang, strange
changes came over the magic vessel. First, the prow was overlaid with
sunbright gold and its forward part was beautifully carved and shaped
into the form of a swan with outspread wings. Then the deck was covered
with plates of shining silver ornamented with figures of birds and
beasts and little fishes. Finally, the broad, well-shaped hull and the
gunwales, fore and aft, were painted in bright colors—blue and yellow
and scarlet—and the slender mast was coated with snow-white enamel. And
now, like a queen clad in her gorgeous robes, the little vessel sat
upon the sandy beach and smiled at the morning sun and the rippling
waves of the sea. She looked so beautiful, so grand, that the Minstrel
clapped his hands and shouted for excess of joy, and the songs and
words of the mighty Wipunen fell faster and louder from his lips.
Very earnestly did the Minstrel sing, and gradually his tones became
sweeter and lower and more persuasive, like the murmuring of the waters
on a peaceful summer morning. The song was of the sea, it seemed to
come from the sea. It was as if the waves were calling gently, ever so
gently, to the little vessel waiting on the shore:
“Come, come, O magic boat,
Come, and on the billows float!
Come to the wrinkled sea and glide
With swiftness o’er its rolling tide.”
Soon there was a sound of creaking, rumbling, scraping—a sound not
loud, but distinct and growing stronger. Then, gracefully and with
dignity, like a princess on her wedding day, the little ship glided
across the shelving beach and in another moment was floating lightly,
smoothly, nobly upon the water.
The Minstrel, still singing and still reciting his magic spells, had
already climbed upon the deck. He now lifted the mast in its place; he
hoisted the sails—one red and one blue—and spread them to the winds.
Gracefully and proudly, like a great swan on some quiet lake, the
little vessel glided away from the shore and was soon moving swiftly
along the borders of the boundless sea. Wainamoinen sat down at the
stern, and with his long oar guided her northward, never losing sight
of the land, never going far from the shore. As the magic boat speeded
onward, cutting the waves with its gilded prow and dashing the white
spray to left and right, the Minstrel’s heart glowed with joy and
pride. He lifted up his voice and sang a prayerful song to the mighty
powers into whose keeping he had ventured to intrust himself.
“O great Jumala let thy arm
Protect this little ship from harm;
Make its weak captain brave and strong,
And listen to his humble song.
“Sweet South Wind, whispering soft and low,
Come fill these sails and gently blow—
Breathe mildly while the storm winds sleep,
And waft us swiftly o’er the deep.
“O restless Waves, be kind, I pray
To this small craft while on its way;
Drive it along with gentle force,
Let nothing swerve it from its course.”
Thus did the Minstrel sing as he sat at the boat’s stern and guided it
along its watery path. The sea was calm; the waves were sleeping; the
winds breathed very softly on the sails of red and blue. The fairy
vessel glided onward, steadily, proudly, towards its goal in the
distant North.