he sorcerer, who might have helped him. At
last, wearied out with his own violence, he threw himself on a couch,
and wept himself to sleep. He had a vision of his mother in her youth
and beauty, swinging with her companions, and awoke, convinced that she
was really dead.

[Footnote 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?]

[Footnote 43: The tremendous exploits of the Kalevide and his weariness
afterwards give him much of the character of a Berserk.]

[Footnote 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.]

CANTO VI

THE KALEVIDE AND THE SWORD-SMITHS

The Kalevide mourned two days for his mother, but on the third day he
began to get over his grief, and determined, before returning home, to
visit a famous smith of Finland, and to provide himself with a good
sword. So he set off in another direction, and lost himself in the
woods, and had to pass the night on the wet grass under a fir-tree,
which he did not at all relish. Next morning he started off again early,
and a thrush sang to him, and directed him to turn to the west. He
sprang forward with renewed energy and soon found himself in the open
country, where he encountered an old woman,[45] who gave him minute
instructions for finding his way to the smithy, which was three days'
journey off. When at length he reached the smithy, he found the old
smith and his three sons hard at work forging swords.

The hero saluted the smith, who replied to him courteously, and at once
acceded to his request to try the swords before purchasing one. At a
sign from the smith, one of the sons went out and fetched an armful of
swords. The Kalevide picked out the longest, and bent it into a hoop,
when it straightened itself at once. He then whirled it round his head,
and struck at the massive rock which stood in the smithy with all his
might. The sparks flew from the stone and the blade shivered to pieces,
while the old smith loo