The Lucky Egg
(Kreutzwald.)
Once upon a time a poor man lived in a great forest with his wife. God had given them eight children, and the elder ones were already earning their living with strangers. So the parents were not much rejoiced when a ninth little son was born to them in their old age. But as God had given it to them, they were obliged to accept it, and to have it christened according to Christian usage. But they could find no one willing to stand sponsor for the child, for everybody thought that if the parents died, the child would be left a burden on their hands. Then said the father, “I will take the child and carry it to church next Sunday, and say that although I can find no sponsors for the child, the parson may please himself. Then, whether he christens the child or not, no sin can rest on my soul.”
When he set out on Sunday, he found a beggar sitting by the wayside near his house, who asked for alms. The father said, “I have nothing to give you, dear brother, for I must pay out the few copecks which I have in my pocket for the christening. But if you will do me a kindness, come and stand godfather to my child, and afterwards go home with me, and share the christening feast which my good wife has prepared.” The beggar, who had never before been invited to stand godfather to anybody’s child, joyfully accepted the man’s proposal, and went with him to the church. Just as they arrived, a magnificent carriage and four drove up, and a young Saxon lady alighted from it. The poor man thought, “Now I’ll try my luck for the last time.” He bowed respectfully to the unknown lady, and said, “Noble lady, whoever you may be! will you not have the kindness to stand godmother to my child?” The lady consented.
When the child was brought up to be baptized after the sermon, the parson and the congregation were much surprised to see a poor beggar-man and a proud handsome lady standing together as sponsors for the child. The child was baptized by the name of Pärtel. 156 The rich lady paid the christening fees, and also made a christening present of three roubles, which much rejoiced the child’s father. The beggar went home to the christening feast. Before leaving in the evening, he took from his pocket a small box wrapped in a piece of rag, and gave it to the child’s mother, saying, “My christening gift is poor enough, but do not despise it, for it may possibly bring your son good fortune some day. I had a very clever aunt, who understood all sorts of magic arts, and before she died she gave me the bird’s egg in this little box, saying, ‘When something quite unexpected happens to you, which you could never have imagined, then part with this egg. If it comes into the possession of him for whom it is destined, it may bring him great good fortune. But guard the egg like the apple of your eye, that it does not break, for the shell of fortune is tender.’ But although I am nearly sixty years old, nothing unexpected has happened to me till to-day, when I was invited to stand as godfather, and my first thought was, You must give the egg to the child as a christening gift.”
The little Pärtel grew and prospered, and became the delight of his parents, and at the age of ten he was sent to another village to become herd-boy to a rich farmer. All the people of the household were well satisfied with the herd-boy, as he was a good quiet fellow, who never gave any annoyance to his companions. When he left home, his mother put his christening gift in his pocket, and charged him to keep it as safe as the apple of his eye, and Pärtel did so. There was an old lime-tree in the pasturage, and a large granite rock lay under it. The boy was very fond of this place, and every day in summer he used to go and sit on the stone under the lime-tree. Here he used to eat the lunch which was given him every morning, and he quenched his thirst at a little brook hard by. Pärtel had no friendship with the other herd-boys, who were up to all sorts of pranks. It was remarkable that there was no such fine grass anywhere as between the stone and the spring, and although the flocks grazed here every day, next morning the grass looked more like that of an enclosed meadow than of a pasturage.
When Pärtel slept a little while on the stone on a hot day, he had wonderfully pleasant dreams, and when he awoke, the sounds of music and song were still in his ears, so that he dreamed on after his eyes were open. The stone was like a dear friend to him, and he parted from it every day with a heavy heart, and returned to it next day full of longing. Thus Pärtel lived till he was fifteen years old, and was no longer to be herd-boy. His master now employed him as a farm-labourer, but did not give him any heavier work than he was able to accomplish. On Sundays and summer evenings, the other young men used to go to visit their sweethearts, but Pärtel did not join their company. He stole away, in deep meditation, to his favourite lime-tree in the pasturage, and often sat under it for half the night. One Sunday evening he was sitting on the stone playing the flute, when a milk-white snake crept out from under the stone. It raised its head as if to listen, and looked at Pärtel with its bright eyes, which shone like fire. This happened often, and whenever Pärtel had any time to spare, he used to hasten to the stone to see the beautiful white snake, which at last became so familiar with him that it often coiled round his leg.
Pärtel was now growing up to be a young man; his father and mother were dead, and his brothers and sisters lived widely scattered, and seldom heard any tidings of each other, and still more rarely met. But the white snake had grown dearer to him than his brothers and sisters, and his thoughts were with her by day, and he dreamed of her almost every night. This made the wintertime seem very long to him, when the earth was frozen and the snow lay deep on the ground. When the sun-rays melted the snow in spring and the ground was thawed, Pärtel’s first walk was to the stone under the lime-trees, though there was not a leaf to be seen upon the tree as yet. O what joy! As soon as he breathed forth his longing in the notes of the flute, the white snake crept out from under the stone, and played about his feet. But it seemed to Pärtel to-day that the snake shed tears, and this made his heart sad. He now let no evening pass without visiting the stone, and the snake grew continually tamer, and she would let him stroke her; but if he tried to hold her fast, she slipped through his fingers, and crept back under the stone.
On Midsummer Eve all the villagers, old and young, went together to St. John’s fire. Pärtel was not allowed to stay behind, though his heart drew him in another direction. But in the midst of the fun, when all the others were singing, dancing, and amusing themselves, he slipped away to the lime-tree, the only place where his heart was at ease. When he drew near, he saw a clear bright fire shining from the stone, which surprised him very much, for, as far as he knew, nobody but himself ever visited the spot. But when he reached the stone, the fire had disappeared, without leaving either ashes or sparks behind it. He sat down on the stone, and began to play on his flute as usual. All at once the fire blazed up again, and it was nothing else than the sparkling eyes of the white snake. She played about his feet again, allowed him to stroke her, and gazed at him as wistfully as if she was going to speak. It must have been almost midnight when the snake crept back to her nest under the stone, and did not reappear while Pärtel was playing. As he took the instrument from his mouth and put it in his pocket and prepared to go home, the leaves of the lime-tree rustled in the breeze so strangely that it sounded like a human voice, and he thought he heard the following words repeated several times:
“Thin-shelled is the egg of Fortune,
And the heart is full of sorrow;
Venture not to spoil your fortune.”
Thereupon he experienced such a painful longing that his heart was like to break, and yet he did not know himself what he pined for. He began to weep bitterly, and lamented, “What does the lucky egg avail me, when no happiness is permitted me in this world? I have felt from childhood that I was unfit to mix with men, for they do not understand me, and I do not understand them. What causes pleasure to them is painful to me, while I myself know not what could make me happy, and how then should others know it? Riches and poverty stood together as my sponsors, and therefore nothing will go right with me.”
Suddenly it became as bright around him as if the mid-day sun was shining on the lime-tree and the rock, and he could not open his eyes for a time, until he had got used to the light. Then he beheld a lovely female figure sitting beside him on the stone, clad in snow-white raiment, as if an angel had flown down from heaven. The maiden’s voice sounded sweeter to him than the song of the nightingale as she addressed him. “Dear youth, fear nothing, but give heed to the prayer of an unhappy girl. I am imprisoned in a miserable dungeon, and if you do not pity me, I can never hope to escape. O dear youth, take pity on me, and do not cast me off! I am the daughter of a king of the East, possessed of fabulous riches in gold and silver, but all this avails me nothing, for an enchanter has compelled me to live under this stone in the form of a white snake. I have lived thus for many centuries, without ever growing older. Although I never injured any human being, all fled before my shape, as soon as they beheld me. You are the only living being who did not fly at my approach; you have even allowed me to play about your feet, and have often kindly stroked me with your hand. Your kindness has led me to hope that you might be able to effect my deliverance. Your heart is as pure as that of a child, as yet ignorant of falsehood and deception. You have all the signs which point to my rescue; a noble lady and a beggar stood together as your sponsors, and your christening gift was the egg of Good Fortune. I am only permitted to resume my human form once in twenty-five years on Midsummer Eve, and to wander about the earth for an hour, and if I should meet with a youth pure in heart, and with your peculiarities, who would listen to my request, I might be released from my long imprisonment. Save me, O save me from this endless imprisonment! I beseech you in the name of all the angels.”
Having thus spoken, she fell at Pärtel’s feet, embraced his knees, and wept bitterly.
Pärtel’s heart was melted by her tears and supplications, and he begged the maiden to stand up, and to tell him what he could do to rescue her. “If it was possible for me to save you,” said he, “I would go through fire and water. I am filled with an unknown longing which allows me no peace; but what I long for, I cannot tell.”
The maiden answered, “Come here again to-morrow evening about sunset, and if I meet you in my snake-form, and wind myself round your body like a girdle, and kiss you three times, do not start or shrink back, or I shall again be overwhelmed by the waters of enchantment, and who knows for how many centuries?”
As she spoke, the maiden vanished from the youth’s sight, and he again heard the sighing in the leaves of the lime-tree:
“Thin-shelled is the egg of Fortune,
And the heart is full of sorrow;
Venture not to spoil your fortune.”
Pärtel went home and lay down to sleep before dawn, but his rest was disturbed by wonderfully varied dreams, some beautiful, some hideous. He sprang up with a shriek, for a dream showed him the white snake coiling round his breast and suffocating him. But he thought no more of this horrible picture, and firmly resolved to release the princess from the bonds of enchantment, even if he himself should perish. Nevertheless his heart failed him more and more as the sun sank nearer the horizon. At the appointed time he stood by the stone under the lime-tree, and gazed, sighing, towards heaven, praying for strength and courage, that he might not tremble with weakness when the snake should coil round his body and kiss him. Suddenly he remembered the lucky egg: he took the little box from his pocket, opened it, and took the little egg, which was not larger than that of a sparrow, between his fingers.
At this moment the snow-white snake glided from under the stone, wound round his body, and had just raised her head to kiss him, when—he himself knew not how it happened—he pushed the lucky egg into her mouth. His heart froze within him, but he stood firm, without shrinking, till the snake had kissed him three times. A tremendous flash and crash followed, as if the stone had been struck by lightning, and amid the loud pealing of the thunder, Pärtel fell on the ground like one dead, and knew nothing more of what happened to him.
But at this terrible moment the bondage of the enchantment was loosened, and the royal maiden was released from her long captivity. When Pärtel awakened from his heavy swoon, he found himself lying on cushions of white silk in a magnificent glass room of a sky-blue colour. The fair maiden knelt by his bedside, patted his cheek, and cried out, when he opened his eyes, “Thanks to the Heavenly Father who has heard my prayer, and a thousand thousand thanks to you, dear youth, who released me from my long enchantment! Take my kingdom as your reward, along with this beautiful palace, and all my treasures, and if you will, accept me also as your bride into the bargain! You shall always live here in happiness, as befits the lord of the lucky egg. Hitherto your lot has been as that of your godfather, but now you succeed to a better lot, such as fell to your godmother.”
No one could now come between Pärtel and his happiness and good fortune, and all the unknown longings of his heart, which constantly drew him back under the lime-tree, were finally laid to rest. He lived apart from the world with his dear bride in the enjoyment of the greatest happiness until his death.
But great sorrow was caused by his disappearance, both in the village, and in the farm-house where he had worked, and where he was much loved for his steady quiet ways. All the people went out to look for him, and their first visit was to the lime-tree which Pärtel was accustomed to visit so often, and towards which they had seen him going on the previous evening. Great was the amazement of the people when they found no trace of either Pärtel, the lime-tree, or the stone. The little spring near was dried up, and no trace of anything that had thus vanished was ever again beheld by human eyes.
Kreutzwald relates several other stories of young adventurers who go forth into the world to seek their fortunes with the aid of powerful protectors.
In one of these, “The Magician in the Pocket,” a young man releases a magician who had been imprisoned by his enemy under a great stone, after which the magician accompanies him in his wanderings in the form of a flea, and helps him to deliver four princesses from enchantment, one of whom he marries. In another, “The God-Daughter of the Rock-Maidens,” a young girl named Maasika (Strawberry) is taken down into an underground region by her godmothers, the rock-spirits, one of whom her mother had once aided when in distress. When she is grown up, she goes out into the world, kills the king of the serpents, and disenchants a king, queen, and prince, who prove to be the parents and brother of her godmothers, and she marries the prince. In a third story, “The Foundling,” the hero likewise goes out in a similar manner, and meets with various adventures before marrying a princess.
Footnotes
1 This is specially noticeable in the manner in which the story of the Great Oak Tree is scattered in disjointed fragments through three cantos; and in the unsuccessful result of the Kalevide’s voyage, when he reaches his goal after his return by a land journey.
2 Kirby in “Papers and Transactions of International Folk-lore Congress of 1891,” p. 429.
3 Further information on most of the subjects discussed in the Introduction will be found in the Notes and Index.
4 The names of the others are not mentioned, but later in the poem we meet with three heroes, the sons of Alev, Olev, and Sulev respectively, associated with the son of Kalev, and spoken of as his cousins. Alev and Sulev may have been the brothers of Kalev.
5 The Prince of Hades, literally Hornie.
6 Hades or Hell.
7 Linda’s Bosom, the Kalevide’s capital, named in honour of his mother; now Revel.
8 Ukko, the principal god of the Finns and Esthonians, is frequently called Taara in the Kalevipoeg. This name is not used in Finnish; but Tora is the name of God among the Chuvash of Kasan.
9 In the Finnish Kalevala, Väinämöinen is represented as a culture-hero, and as the father of his people; in Esthonia Vanemuine is usually a demi-god. He is always the inventor and patron of music and the harp. He plays no part in the Kalevipoeg, where his name is only mentioned once or twice.
10 If this is a Scriptural allusion, it is almost the only one in the book. The Kalevipoeg is essentially a pre-Christian poem, and nowhere exhibits the curious mixture of pre-Christian and Christian ideas that we meet with in many parts of the Kalevala, and notably in Runo 50.
11 In the Kalevala (= the country of Kaleva), the hero himself does not appear in person, though we constantly read of his sons and daughters. Some critics, however, identify him with the dead giant, Antero Vipunen, in Runo 17 of the Kalevala.
12 The eagle of the North plays a conspicuous part in Finnish and Esthonian literature. It is this bird for whose resting-place Väinämöinen spares the birch-tree, and which afterwards rescues him from the waves and carries him to Pohjola. In several cosmogonic ballads, too, it is the eggs of this bird and not of the blue duck which contribute to the formation of the world: for the Mundane Egg plays a part here as well as in other cosmogonies. The passage in the Kalevipoeg, to which this note refers, corresponds almost exactly to one in the Kalevala (xxx. 1-10), which ushers in the adventures of Kullervo.
13 A province in Western Esthonia, called Wiek by the Germans.
14 Esthonia proper; specially applied to the north-eastern province.
15 God: this word is applied to the Christian God in Esthonia, Finland, and Lapland, as well as to the local divinities.
16 There are many tales and ballads about the miraculous birth and wooing of Salme and Linda. (Compare Neus, Ehstnische Volkslieder, p. 9; Latham’s Nationalities of Europe, i. p. 142.) In the story of the “Milky Way,” which commences Part II. of this volume, Linda is represented as the daughter of Uko, and the queen of the birds. We also read of a blue bird, Siuru, the daughter of Taara, in the ballads. The name Linda or Lindu is evidently derived from the word Lind, a bird.
17 The Sun and Moon are both male deities in Finnish and Esthonian. In the Kalevala (Runo 11) the sun, moon, and a star seek the hand of Kyllikki, the fair maid of Saari, for their sons, but she rejects them all as unceremoniously as Salme. In the Kanteletar (iii. 6), a maiden called Suometar (= Finland’s daughter) plays a similar part. Suometar is born from a duck’s egg, found by a young girl named Katrina.
18 Muru eit, the meadow-queen (literally grass-mother), is regarded as one of the tutelary divinities of the house. Esthonian houses generally stand in a grass field, entered by a gate. Within the enclosure are the storehouses, cattle-pens, and other outbuildings.
19 This is somewhat inconsistent with the rather undignified appearance of the Sun and Moon in person a little while before.
20 The cross-dance is still danced in out-of-the-way parts of the country; it is a kind of quadrille. Four couples station themselves in such a manner as to form a cross. The opposite pairs advance and retire several times, and then they dance round, when the second pairs dance in the same manner, and another dance round follows, till they have danced enough. The dance is accompanied with a song, in which the dancers, and sometimes the bystanders, join.
21 Arju or Harju (German, Harrien) one of the provinces of Esthonia.
22 Kungla is described as a country of untold wealth and the land of adventures—a kind of fairyland. It appears, however, to have been a real country, separated from Esthonia by sea, of which fabulous tales were told. Some writers identify it with the Government of Perm; but this is improbable, as it is generally described as an island. Others think that the island of Gottland is meant.
23 According to various traditions, Kalev and Linda are said to have had seven or twelve sons.
24 This is what Jacobs calls “junior right;” the patriarchal custom of the elder children going forth into the world to seek their fortunes, and the youngest remaining at home to look after his parents and inherit their possessions. Hence the rivalry between Esau and Jacob.
25 Has this anything to do with boys spinning cockchafers on a thread? The beetle alluded to in the text is said to be the ladybird, but the ladybird has no particular connection with the alder. When a brooch is thus spun on a thread, a question is asked, and if the motion stops, the answer is unfavourable, but favourable if it continues. The flight of the beetle is fortunate towards the south, but unfortunate towards the north.
26 It is curious that the Esthonians always regarded the Finns, and the Finns the Lapps, as great sorcerers; each nation attributing special skill in magic to those living north of themselves.—But there is a Finnish ballad (Kanteletar, iii. 2) in which we read of the sun and moon being stolen by German and Esthonian sorcerers.
27 This reminds us of Ariel’s well-known song—
“Full fathom five thy father lies,
Of his bones are coral made,” &c.
28 The origin of stone blocks is usually ascribed to non-human beings in many countries, but most frequently to the devil, especially in Northern Europe. Compare also the church-stories, &c., in a later part of this work.
29 The usual place employed on such occasions in Finland and Esthonia.
30 Ukko or Taara commonly appears as the principal god of the Finns and Esthonians; Rõugutaja usually as an accoucheur, but occasionally also as a malicious demon. Rõugutaja is also called the God of the Wind. Other authorities consider him a water-god. (Kreutzwald und Neus, Mythische und Magische Lieder, p. 108.)
31 Kullervo in the Kalevala (Runo 30) bursts his swaddling-clothes and smashes his cradle in the same way.
32 The Esthonian Thunder-God goes by a variety of names, but is usually called Pikker or Pikne, evidently the Perkunas of the Lithuanians. He resembles Thor in driving about in a chariot, waging war with the evil demons; but one of his attributes, not appertaining to Thor, is his flute (or bagpipe, as some critics regard it). It will be seen in many places that the Esthonians, like all other peoples among whom the belief in fairies, demons, &c., survives, do not share the absurd modern notion that such beings must necessarily be immortal.
33 Peter, in the story of the Lucky Rouble, is also attended by three black dogs. The dogs of the sons of Kalev were named Irmi, Armi, and Mustukene; the last name means Blackie, not Throttler, as Reinthal translates it.
34 In the Maha-Bharata Bhima is represented as carrying enormous loads, and in one passage Yudhishthira is searching for his brother in the Himalayas, when he comes to a place where slaughtered lions and tigers are lying about by thousands, which convinces him that he is on the right track.
35 This passage would seem to indicate that the daughter of the king of Kungla was sometimes looked upon rather as a fairy than as a human princess.
36 Visits to a father’s grave for counsel are very common in the literature of Northern Europe.
37 The story in the Kalevipoeg is very confused, but this maiden evidently corresponds to the lost sister of Kullervo (Kalevala, Runo 35), whom he meets casually, and seduces. When they discover the truth, the girl throws herself into a torrent. In the Kalevipoeg, Canto 7, the Kalevide and the maiden are actually spoken of as brother and sister. There are many versions of this story; in one of them (Neus, Ehstnische Volkslieder, pp. 5-8; Latham’s Nationalities of Europe, i. p. 138), the maiden is represented as slaying her brother, who is called indifferently the son of Kalev or of Sulev, to the great satisfaction of her father and mother.
38 In the Kalevala, Runo 15, Lemminkainen’s mother collects together the fragments of his body from the River of Death with a long rake.
39 This song and story (except for the incident of the man of copper) resembles that of the drowning of Aino in the Kalevala, Runo 4.
40 It was a copper man who rose from the water to fell the great oak-tree (Kalevala, Runo 2). Compare also the variant in Canto 6 of the Kalevipoeg. We may also remember the copper men connected with the mountain of loadstone (Thousand and One Nights, Third Calendar’s Story).
41 Literally a “house-hen;” one of those idiomatic terms of endearment which cannot be reproduced in another language.
42 We find this great oak-tree over and over again in Finnish and Esthonian tales. Compare Kalevala, Runo 2, and Cantos 4, 5, 6, and 16 of the Kalevipoeg. Neus, Ehstnische Volkslieder, p. 47; Kreutzwald and Neus, Mythische und Magische Lieder, p. 8, &c. Could this oak have any connection, direct or indirect, with the ash Yggthrasil? or could the story have originated in some report or tradition of the banyan?
43 The tremendous exploits of the Kalevide and his weariness afterwards give him much of the character of a Berserk.
44 In the 26th Runo of the Kalevala Lemminkainen creates a flock of birds from a handful of feathers, to appease the fiery eagle who obstructed his way to Pohjola. We may also remember Jason and the dragon’s teeth.
45 In the Kalevala (Runo 34) an old woman directs Kullervo to the house of his parents.
46 The smith is sometimes called the uncle of Kalev; but the term may only mean that he was an old friend.
47 The cuckoo is a sacred bird, but more often alluded to in Finnish than in Esthonian literature.
48 This lake (Saad järv) lies a little north of Dorpat.
49 Nothing is said as to how the government was carried on during the Kalevide’s minority.
50 White horses constantly occur in Esthonian tales; and the devil’s mother or grandmother usually appears as a white mare. One of the commentators remarks that as the white horse was sacred in pre-Christian times, the missionaries represented it as peculiarly diabolical. It will be remembered with what severity the early missionaries suppressed the horse feasts among the Teutonic tribes.
51 This is a little like the formation of the world from the body of the giant Ymir, as described in the Edda. As W. Herbert paraphrases it,
“Of his bones the rocks high swelling,
Of his flesh the globe is made,
From his veins the tide is welling,
And his locks are verdant shade.”
“Helga” is a somewhat poor production, containing but few striking passages except the description of the appearance of the Valkyrior before the fight between Hialmar and Angantyr. But the shorter poems at the end, “The Song of Vala” and “Brynhilda,” ought to be alone sufficient to remove the name of this forgotten poet from oblivion.
52 The Esthonian demons are often represented as contemptible creatures, very easily outwitted. Later in the present canto the personage in question is distinctly called a water-demon.
53 A common proverb in Esthonian tales. We also find it in Italian, in almost the same words.
54 The money is sometimes called roubles, and sometimes thalers.
55 Visits to Hades or Hell (Põrgu) are common in the Kalevipoeg and in the popular tales, some of which we shall afterwards notice.
56 The term “Lett,” which the Kalevide himself afterwards applies to the demon, seems to be used in contempt; otherwise the passage in the text might have been taken as equivalent to our old-fashioned expression, “It’s all Greek to me.”
57 Usually the devil’s mother (or grandmother) is represented as a white mare. Compare Canto 14 of the Kalevipoeg, and also the story of the Grateful Prince.
58 This Air-Maiden, who seems to be only a mischievous sprite, must not be confounded with Ilmatar, the creatrix of the world in the first Runo of the Kalevala.
59 Finn, the Irish hero, was once entrapped by a sorceress on a similar pretext into plunging into an enchanted lake, which changed him into an old man. (See Joyce’s Old Celtic Romances, “The Chase of Slieve Cullin.”) The story is also related in one of Kenealy’s ballads.
60 This is a well-known Mongol characteristic; and it is rather oddly attributed by Arabic writers to the Jinn. “Two of them appeared in the form and aspect of the Jarm, each with one eye slit endlong, and jutting horns and projecting tusks.”—Story of Tohfat-el-Kulub (Thousand and One Nights, Breslau edition).
61 This reminds us of the help given to Hiawatha by the woodpecker during his fight with Megissogwun; but the one incident can hardly be copied from the other. Hiawatha was published some years before the Kalevipoeg.
62 This is the only passage in the Kalevipoeg in which one of the heroes of the Kalevala is personally introduced.
63 Emptiness; probably the Contemptible One; a name often used for one of the principal demons.
64 The rock is still shown, bearing the imprints of the hero’s fingers, each cleft large enough to hold a man.
65 This was the fate of Kullervo himself in the Kalevala. Orphans, for whom much sympathy is expressed, constantly appear in Esthonian tales. Compare p. 236 of the present volume.
66 We have a similar series of transformations (mouse, cat, dog, ass, buffalo) in the story of Noor Ed-Deen and Shes Ed-Deen in the Thousand and One Nights.
67 We meet with this big ox elsewhere in the Kalevipoeg ( Canto 19 ), as well as in the Kalevala, Runo 20.
68 Old Hornie, the name of the ruler of Põrgu (Hell).
69 The word used for lion is " lõwi, " undoubtedly derived from the German. The Finns generally call the lion " jalopeura, " which also denotes the lynx.
70 Compare the story of the Gold Spinners.
71 We meet with a similar hat in other stories. Many Esthonians and Lithuanians still hide their nail-parings as carefully as possible, or else make a cross over them lest the devil should find them and use them to make a wishing-hat. Can this hat have any connection with the white straw hat of the devil in a Deptford rhyme?—Gomme’s Traditional Games, I. p. 4. In the Edda, we are told that Naglfar, the largest ship in the world, which is to bring the giants to the fight at Ragnarök, is similarly constructed, and as both gods and men wish that it should be completed as late as possible, every one should be very careful not to die with unpared nails, lest he should supply materials for its construction.
72 Golden is often used in Finnish and Esthonian, as in many other languages, as a term of endearment.
73 The maidens were afterwards married to the relatives of the Kalevide, giants like himself, and are described as walking arm-in-arm with them, nothing being then said of any difference in their stature.
74 This reminds us of a well-known feudal custom, more honoured in the breach than in the observance, which also prevailed among the old kings of Scotland for several reigns. The second sister was ultimately married, not to the cup-bearer, but to the son of Olev.
75 A mythical blue bird, the daughter of Taara. Two songs respecting her will be found in another part of the book. Reinthal improperly translates the word “griffin.” “Phœnix” or “Seemurgh” would have been a more appropriate rendering.
76 These bath-whisks, which are dried birch-twigs with the leaves left on, are often alluded to in the Kalevala.
77 Or Tühja. See ante, p. 84.
78 Compare Canto 10 of the Kalevipoeg, and the story of the Grateful Prince, as well as ante, p. 58 note. Sarvik seems to have belonged to the same family as the water-demon who was tricked by the Alevide in Canto 10.
79 Compare the similar scene in the story of “Slyboots,” later in this volume.
80 This incident resembles an adventure attributed to Thor. In the legends of all countries, sorcerers or fugitives are represented as raising magic floods, either to sweep away their enemies or to baffle pursuit. There are three instances in this very canto.
81 This is the usual Esthonian euphemism for setting a house on fire. I understand that there is also some connection between red cocks and fire in Scottish folk-lore; and in Scandinavian mythology two of the three cocks which are to crow before Ragnarök are red. May they not have some connection with the fire of Surtur?
82 Here we have the great oak-tree mentioned in Cantos 5 and 6 reappearing in another connection.
83 The Flyer.
84 In the present canto the Kalevide is never spoken of as of gigantic size, unless we may consider feats like this as implying it.
85 Baring Gould considers this country to be the North Cape, but the geography of the voyage is confused.
86 The Maelström?
87 The commentators identify this island with Iceland, but the voyagers were apparently on the wrong side of Scandinavia to reach either the Maelström or Iceland. Still we have both geysers and volcanoes in the text.
88 Here the Kalevide’s sun begins to decline, for the first of his faithful companions leaves his side, as Hylas left Heracles.
89 This is Chamisso’s Alsatian legend, “Das Riesenspielzeug,” “The Giant’s Toy,” usually called in English translations “The Giant’s Daughter and the Peasant.” The girl in the poem seems to have far exceeded even the Kalevide in stature; and we may remember Gulliver’s remark respecting the Brobdingnagians—“Who knows but that even this prodigious race of mortals might be equally overmatched in some distant part of the world whereof we have yet no discovery?”
90 Throughout this passage the giant is usually called simply the magician, and the other “the wise man.”
91 Asking riddles of this kind was a common amusement in Northern Europe. Compare Prior’s Danish Ballads, i. 185, 334.
92 Baring-Gould ingeniously suggests that this country is Greenland, and that the Dog-men are Esquimaux, clad in furs, and riding in dog-sledges. The end of this canto is inconsequential, for the hero should have reached his goal during this voyage, not by a land-journey afterwards.
93 Linda’s bosom, now Revel.
94 The bells of the dwarfs are often of great importance in Northern fairy mythology.
95 This incident is common in Esthonian tales.
96 This song will be included in a later section of the book.
97 Some of the commentators regard this book as a palladium on which the independence of Esthonia depended; and the thoughtlessness of the Kalevide in parting with the book which contained the wisdom of his father as a sacrilegious action which precipitated his ruin.
98 These are identified by the commentators with the Teutonic Knights of the Sword, who conquered Esthonia in the eleventh century.
99 Here we have a reminiscence of the Giallar horn of Heimdall, and of the horn of Roland (or Orlando).
100 Compare the much longer story in the 9th Runo of the Kalevala.
101 A similar adventure happened to the naturalist Macgillivray in the Solomon Islands during the voyage of the Herald. He turned round and shot the savage dead.
102 There is a curious variant relating how the Kalevide waded across Lake Peipus with a bridle in his hand to look for a horse, and the water threatened to rise above his boots, when he said, “Don’t think to drown this man.” Then the devil brought him first his daughter and then his son in the shape of horses; but they both broke down under him. Then the devil brought him his mother, in her usual shape of a white mare, and she galloped away with the hero, and he could not rein her in. Then a voice from heaven cried, “Godson, godson, strike your hand into the oak!” The hero seized a great oak-tree as they were passing, when it came away in his hand, roots and all. Then the mare rushed to Põrgu, and the voice again bade the hero strike his hand into the doorpost. He did so, and his hand was caught fast, and the mare galloped away to hell from between his legs, and left him hanging there.
103 The God of Death.
104 The guardian hero of every nation is looked for to return in a similar manner; even William Tell.
105 Löwe suggests that Kungla is meant, which appears not improbable.
106 This has been a common motif in folk-tales from the time of Jephthah downwards; but the manner in which the different stories are worked out is very various.
107 The usual Esthonian euphemism for the Devil.
108 The moral tone of some of these Esthonian tales is much higher than usual in folk-tales. In the story of the “Northern Frog,” we shall see that it is considered a wrong action, involving Karmic punishment, even to steal a talisman from a demon who is trying to entrap your soul. In most folk-tales, the basest cruelty and treachery is looked upon as quite laudable when your own interests require it, even against your best friend or most generous benefactor, and much more so against a Jew or a demon. But there are other Esthonian tales ( “Slyboots,” for instance), in which the morality is not much superior to that of average folk-tales.
109 Here we find the Devil compared to a Tartar, just as in the 10th canto of the Kalevipoeg a water-demon is compared to a Lett.
110 Boiled peas and salt are provided on such occasions, as mentioned in other stories.
111 The Kalevide was directed to stamp with his right foot to open the gates of Põrgu.
112 In Esthonian legends, the wolf is the great enemy of the devil. See vol. ii. Beast-stories.
113 We meet with similar miraculously swift animals in other Esthonian tales.
114 The outhouses in Sarvik’s palace (Kalevipoeg, Canto 14 ) contained mere ordinary stores.
115 A not very unusual incident in folk-tales, though it often takes the form of offering an iron bar instead of your own hand to a giant who wishes to shake hands with you.
116 A visit to any description of non-human intelligent beings in Esthonian tales almost always extends to years, though it may have apparently lasted for only a day or two.
117 In most stories of this class, the hero forgets his companion on reaching home, either by a charm or by breaking a taboo.
118 Another instance of a child being asked for by an ambiguous request is to be found in the story of the Clever Countrywoman (Jannsen), which must not be confounded with one in Kreutzwald’s collection with a nearly similar title, and of which we append an abstract. The story ends, rather unusually, in a subterfuge. A herd-boy returned one evening, and reported to his mistress that a cow was missing. The woman went herself, but everything round her was changed by magic, and she could not find her way home. However, as the mist rose from the moor, a little white man appeared, whom she recognised as one of the moor-dwellers. He took her home, and returned her cow, on her promising him what she would carry night and day under her heart. From thenceforth she took care always to wear her apron. A year afterwards, she became the mother of a fine boy, and when he was nine weeks old, the window was opened one night, and the intruder cried out, “Give me what you have carried night and day under your heart, as you promised.” The woman flung him her apron, crying out, “In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost, receive what I promised you;” and he instantly vanished with the apron.
119 These great public periodical feasts are Eastern rather than Western. Compare the story of Ali Shar and Zumurrud (Thousand and One Nights).
120 A similar feat is performed by Sarvik in the Kalevipoeg, Canto 17.
121 See page 13.
122 As in the Kalevipoeg, Canto 13; and the story of the Gold-Spinners, &c.
123 Compare p. 121 (anteà). The bell is not mentioned elsewhere in this story.
124 A beer-barrel with a tap, for general use, often stands in the houses of the Esthonian peasantry.
125 “And as to the sword, if it be drawn against an army, and its bearer shake it, he will rout the army; and if he say to it at the time of his shaking it, ‘Slay this army,’ there will proceed from that sword a lightning which will slay the whole army.”— Story of Joodar (Thousand and One Nights).
126 Compare the scene between the Kalevide and Tühi, in Canto of the poem.
127 This old man may have been the consort of the Meadow-Queen. Cf. pp. 188, 259.
128 We shall find mussel-shells used as boats in other tales.
129 “These forests are very useful in delivering princes from their courtiers, like a sieve that keeps back the bran. Then the princes get away to follow their fortunes.”— George MacDonald, “ The Light Princess.”
130 Compare the scene with the four Grey Women in the second part of Faust.
131 Nine is a mystical number as well as seven.
132 Ahti, the God of the Waters.
133 A sacred tree in Eastern Europe, as it is in the British Isles.
134 See page 108.
135 Tont is a common name for a house-spirit.
136 Talking trees are common in Esthonian tales; I do not remember another instance of bleeding trees.
137 Else.
138 Pussy.
139 It must be remembered that the dominant race in Esthonia is German, and that the gentry, even if not fairies, would be expected to speak a language unintelligible to the people. It is significant that the very word for lady in Esthonian is proua, a corruption of Frau. Everything particularly fine is called “Saxon.”
140 In some countries the beard is regarded as a symbol of power, as well as of age and wisdom. Compare the account of Schaibar in the story of Prince Ahmed (Thousand and One Nights).
141 The Germans are generally represented in Esthonian tales as rich, and sometimes as very haughty people.
142 Compare Goody Two-Shoes; but this is a modern tale, believed to have been written by Goldsmith.
143 There is a story (French, I think) of a king who overheard a poor man and his wife abusing Adam and Eve for their poverty. The king took them home, and entertained them. They had a grand feast of many covers every day, but there was always one, the largest of all, which they were forbidden to open. The wife soon persuaded her husband to do so, when a mouse ran out, and the king turned them out of doors.
144 This expression shows the late date of the present story, for no people uninfluenced by the modern Christian notion that all reasoning beings except men must be necessarily angels or devils, and therefore immortal, represent superhuman beings as immortal, with the exception of the gods, and not always even these.
145 See page 157.
146 The original title of this story is, “How an orphan made his fortune unexpectedly.” Some commentators identify the keeper of the hounds with Othin. In the Scandinavian mythology the breaking loose of the monsters, the most terrible of whom is Garm, the watch-dog of Helheim, precedes the cataclysms of Ragnarök.
147 This is the usual condition attached to such gifts, as in the Swiss story of a chamois-hunter who received an inexhaustible cheese from a mountain-spirit. But in the case of the magic saddlebags of the Moor in the story of Joodar (Thousand and One Nights), it was a condition that all the dishes should be put back empty. The Jews, too, were forbidden to leave anything over from the Passover Feast.
148 Or frog: the word is the same.
149 Either the extinct urus or the nearly extinct aurochs must be here intended.
150 Yolk-Carrie.
151 Compare pages 246 and 248.
152 The word translated “lout” means literally “filthy-nose.”
153 In the Kalevala, Runo 33, Kullervo revenges himself in the same manner upon the wife of Ilmarinen, whom he has been serving as herd-boy, and who has treated him with great cruelty and harshness.
154 Titus.
155 Here, as well as in the stories relative to the Thunder-God’s musical instrument, Löwe calls it a bagpipe; but I do not find this meaning for the word in the dictionaries. Still, in the present story, it appears to have been a rather expensive instrument.
156 Bartholomew.