to send all
evil upon Kalevala, to which Vaeinaemoeinen pays no attention (305-368).
The Mistress of Pohjola returns home in great distress, taking with her
only a small fragment of the cover of the Sampo (369-384). Vaeinaemoeinen
carefully collects the fragments of the Sampo on the shore, and plants
them, hoping for continuous good fortune (385-434).

Louhi, Pohjola's old Mistress,
Called together all her forces,
Bows delivered to her army,
And the men with swords provided,
Fitted out a ship of Pohja,
As a war-ship she prepared it.

In the ship the men she stationed,
And equipped for war the heroes,
As the duck her ducklings musters,
Or the teal her children marshals; 10
There she ranged a hundred swordsmen,
And a thousand men with crossbows.

In the boat the mast she lifted,
Put the yards and spars in order,
On the mast the sails adjusted,
Spread the canvas o'er the sailyards;
Like a hanging cloud it waved there,
Like a cloud in heaven suspended;
Then upon her voyage she started,
Sailed away and speeded onward, 20
Soon to struggle for the Sampo,
With the boat of Vaeinaemoeinen.

Vaeinaemoeinen, old and steadfast,
O'er the blue lake steered his vessel,
And he spoke the words which follow,
From the stern where he was seated:
"O thou lively son of Lempi,
Of my friends the dearest to me,
Climb thou quickly to the masthead,
And among the canvas hasten. 30
Look thou to the air before thee,
Look thou to the sky behind thee,
Whether clear is the horizon,
Or the sky is somewhat clouded."

Then the lively Lemminkainen,
Ruddy youth, accomplished scoundrel,
Very active, though unbidden,
Very quick, though never boastful,
To the masthead then ascended,
Up aloft among the canvas. 40
East he looked, and looked to westward,
Looked to north-west and to southward,
Looked across to Pohja's coast-line,
And he spoke the words which follow:
"Clear in front is the horizon,
Dark behind is the horizon,
Rises north a cloud, a small one,
Hangs a single cloud to north-west."

Said the aged Vaeinaemoeinen,
"What you say is surely nonsense, 50
For no cloud is there ascending,
Nor a single cloud arising,
But perchance a sailing vess