could not bear
it any longer, and cried out: 'Woe is me that I have fallen from my
happy home in the air, and cannot now rise above the surface of the
waters. O great Ukko,[3] ruler of the skies, come and aid me in my
sorrow!'

[3] The chief god of the Finns before they became Christians.

No sooner had she ended her appeal to Ukko than a lovely duck flew down
out of the sky, and hovered over the waters looking for a place to
alight; but it found none. Then Ilmatar raised her knees above the
water, so that the duck might rest upon them; and no sooner did the duck
spy them than it flew towards them and, without even stopping to rest,
began to build a nest upon them.

When the nest was finished, the duck laid in it six golden eggs, and a
seventh of iron, and sat upon them to hatch them. Three days the duck
sat on the eggs, and all the while the water around Ilmatar's knees grew
hotter and hotter, and her knees began to burn as if they were on fire.
The pain was so great that it caused her to tremble all over, and her
quivering shook the nest off her knees, and the eggs all fell to the
bottom of the ocean and broke in pieces. But these pieces came together
into two parts and grew to a huge size, and the upper one became the
arched heavens above us, and the lower one our world itself. From the
white part of the egg came the moonbeams, and from the yolk the bright
sunshine.

At last the unfortunate Ilmatar was able to raise her head out of the
waters, and she then began to create the land. Wherever she put her hand
there arose a lovely hill, and where she stepped she made a lake. Where
she dived below the surface are the deep places of the ocean, where she
turned her head towards the land there grew deep bays and inlets, and
where she floated on her back she made the hidden rocks and reefs where
so many ships and lives have been lost. Thus the islands and the rocks
and the firm land were created.

After the land was made Wainamoinen was born, but he was not born a
child, but a full-grown man, full of wisdom and magic power. For seven
whole years he swam about in the ocean, and in the eighth he left the
water and stepped upon the dry land. Thus was the birth of Wainamoinen,
the wonderful magician.

* * * * *

'Ah!' said little Mimi, with a sigh of relief, 'I was afraid you weren't
going to tell us about Wainamoinen at all.'

And then Father Mikko went on again.

[Illustration]