realized, however, that some one was looking at him,he was greatly displeased; for when bears are selecting their winterhiding places they like to keep the matter as secret as possible. Sowith a little growl of resentment he started toward her. At this Elsauttered a scream and, dropping her basket, took to her heels, runningas fast as she could, she knew not whither. The bear followed, at anawkward pace, but when he came up and sniffed at her basket she wasalready far in the distance.
As good fortune would have it, in her wild flight Elsa had come to theedge of one of the great bogs that cover so large a part of Finland,and her light steps had taken her some distance over its uncertainsurface. On she went, springing lightly from tussock to tussock of thecoarse grass, till at last she reached a little space of firmer ground,and sank down, exhausted, upon the fallen trunk of a willow tree.
Meantime honey-paw also had come to the edge of the bog, but aftera few cautious steps had found himself too heavy to gain a footholdon the soft ground, so with another sniff or two he turned about andtrotted off.
When Elsa saw him going away, she was so worn out with fright, and sovery tired, that she did just what any other little girl would havedone: she began to cry, and cried and cried as if her heart wouldbreak. She sat there sobbing a long time, and was quite sure she wouldhave to stay in that little spot the rest of her life, till the wickedbog witches found her or the bears ate her up; for she did not thinkshe could ever venture on alone.
Indeed she cried so hard that she did not notice that she was quitenear the bank of a good-sized river that flowed to the east, nor didshe know that after a while a large flat-boat drifted in sight. It wasladen with a great number of bark-bound barrels, and on the deck a manstood guiding the boat with a long pole. As it floated slowly along,the boatman saw Elsa, and called out in surprise.
“Ho, little one! what dost thou in yonder bog? Art lost?” When Elsaheard him, she quickly looked up, and begged piteously that he take heraway from that dangerous spot!
“That will I do right gladly,” said he; and directing her how to reachthe bank in safety, he guided his boat to land and then helped Elsaaboard.
He gave her a little box on which to sit, and told her that the heavybarrels arranged in rows in the boat were filled with turpentine whichhe was floating down the river from the pine woods farther inland. Thenlooking curiously at Elsa, who sat there still tightly holding herlittle kantele, which she had unconsciously kept through her flightfrom honey-paw, he said:
“But who art thou, little one?”
The man had a good face and a kindly manner that quite reassuredElsa, who, now that her fear of the bear was relieved, had begun towonder who her companion might be. When she told him her name, “Ah,” heexclaimed, “I know thy father well! But whither art thou going all bythyself?”
When Elsa told him of her journey to the peasant Ulricborg, he lookedastonished, but told her to have no fear, as he would see her safely tothe Ulricborg home, which was down the very river on which they werefloating, and at no great distance from the bank.
As the boat glided along Elsa’s new friend beguiled the time by tellingher of the great pine forests whence he had come, and explaining howthe pitch and turpentine were harvested. After a while when he askedif she would sing him a little song, she gladly assented; and strikingthe strings of her little harp, she sang a Finnish boat-song, her voiceringing out clear and sweet on the frosty air, through which some bigsnowflakes were beginning to fall. She had scarcely finished her songwhen she noticed that they were no longer in the center of the stream,but that the boatman was deftly turning his craft sidewise and guidingit toward the bank.
In a few minutes he had made it fast to a stout oak tree that grewnear the water’s edge, and then helping Elsa out, he took her hand andled her up a narrow path between tall grasses and yellowing willows;then turning into a lane they came toward a small weather-beaten housestanding in the midst of a little group of fir trees. The door stoodopen, and a short distance from the house they spied a bent old womangathering pine cones in the forest close by. She had her apron filled,and presently, turning around and seeing her visitors, she straightenedherself as best she could and came toward them with greetings. As shedrew near, Elsa saw that her face was withered and wrinkled, and herhands brown with toil.
“Good morrow, Dame Ulricborg!” said the boatman, “and how fares thygoodman to-day?”
“Ah,” answered the dame, “he is very weak and grows more feeble everyday. This twelve-month past he hath scarce left his bed, and ’tis wearywork for an old woman to keep the kettle boiling and the thatch mendedover our heads.”
“True,” said the boatman, sympathetically, “thou hast done well, DameUlricborg!” Then looking down at Elsa, he added: “Here is a little girlcome to see thee.”
The old dame looked curiously at Elsa; then, as the latter held up herlittle skirt and asked the dame if she might not help carry the cones,she grew more kindly and led the way to the house. But the boatman,seeing Elsa thus safe at her journey’s end, bade them good by andhastened back to his boat.
Now, Dame Ulricborg very much wondered what the little girl couldpossibly wish with her; but as it is considered unkind to question aguest as to his coming, she said nothing, but waited for Elsa to makeknown her errand.
As they drew near the door of the house, Elsa hastened to explain toher how she had come, and how she hoped to learn the rune from the lipsof the aged peasant Ulricborg. At this the old woman, who had listenedattentively, shook her head.
“Ah, little one,” said she, “thou little knowest how feeble he hathgrown! He hath strange fancies, too, and I doubt if he will wish to letthee learn it. He hath never been willing to teach it to any one. But,”she added, “thou canst at least ask, if thou wishest.”
By this time they had reached the threshold of Dame Ulricborg’s home,and stepped within. The house was bare, but not uncomfortable; somerings of flat-bread hung from the ceiling; there was a spinning-wheel,two or three benches, and, on the wall over the fireplace, a kantele.
The dame told Elsa to draw one of the benches near the fire and warmherself, while she went into the next room to see how her sick husbandfared, as she had been obliged to leave him all alone when she went togather the cones.
By and by the dame came back, and shaking her head sadly, said to Elsa:
“Nay, to-day ’tis useless; his thoughts are wandering and he willnotice nothing. ’Tis often so when he grows overweary. But thou mustbide the night with us, and it may be in the morning he will be better.”
So Elsa helped Dame Ulricborg build up the fire till it blazed brightlywith the crackling resinous cones, and then as the afternoon waned, shemade herself useful in many little ways as they set out their simpleevening meal.
Elsa thought no _pimea_ and black bread had ever tasted quite so good,for she was very hungry after her long day, and Dame Ulricborg smiledat her enjoyment. Indeed by the time Elsa crept into the queer littlecupboard bed that the dame spread for her, she had so won the latter’sheart that she bent over and kissed the little girl with a pathetictenderness; for it had been a long, long time since poor old DameUlricborg had had any young life about her. Her own little girl hadslept in the village churchyard for many years.
The next morning, after they had breakfasted together, the dame toldElsa that she might see peasant Ulricborg, who seemed somewhat brighterwith the new day. So taking Elsa by the hand she led her into the roomwhere lay the sick peasant.
He looked very old and feeble; his hair was white as snow, and his thincheeks drawn into innumerable wrinkles. Elsa went timidly over andstood by his bedside, and in a low quivering voice she made known herrequest. She told him of Herr Lönnrot’s labors to save the beautifulsong-story of Wainamoinen, and of his great desire to learn the lostrune that peasant Ulricborg alone knew; how he wished to write it down,so that it might never again be forgotten and that all the world mightenjoy its beauty.
As she spoke, the old man looked at her with dim blue eyes, and se
emedto listen as one in a dream. When she ceased, he appeared for a momentlost in thought; then he said slowly and dreamily:
“Yes, thou shalt learn it, Aino; thou shalt hear of the birth of theharp, of the magic fish and of the mighty hero Wainamoinen, littleAino.”
“’Tis our own little maid, Aino, that we lost so long ago!” whisperedthe old dame to Elsa, as the tears streamed down her face; “thou art solike her!”
But she hushed her whisper, as suddenly the old peasant began to singin a weak, quavering voice that seemed to grow stronger as he sang,the beautiful lines telling how the ancient Wainamoinen fashioned thefirst harp, and how he sang till all the birds forsook their nests, thefishes their deep sea homes, and all the creatures of the woods, nay,the very trees themselves, trooped forth from the forests that theymight listen to his enchanting music.
As Elsa heard, the tears came into her own eyes, for she was a poeticlittle soul and quickly touched by anything beautiful. When the peasantUlricborg had almost finished the rune, he suddenly broke off and layback on his