At the rocking of the lightning, Rocking of the fire of Ukko. Thus the flame was gently cradled By the virgin of the ether. Long the fair and faithful maiden Stroked the Fire-child with her fingers, Tended it with care and pleasure, Till in an unguarded moment It escaped the Ether-virgin, Slipped the hands of her that nursed it. Quick the heavens are burst asunder, Quick the vault of Ukko opens, Downward drops the wayward Fire-child, Downward quick the red-ball rushes, Shoots across the arch of heaven, Hisses through the startled cloudlets, Flashes through the troubled welkin, Through nine starry vaults of ether. Then the ancient Wainamoinen Spake and these the words he uttered: "Blacksmith brother, Ilmarinen, Let us haste and look together, What the kind of fire that falleth, What the form of light that shineth From the upper vault of heaven, From the lower earth and ocean. Has a second moon arisen, Can it be a ball of sunlight? Thereupon the heroes wandered, Onward journeyed and reflected, How to gain the spot illumined, How to find the sacred Fire-child. Came a river rushing by them, Broad and stately as an ocean. Straightway ancient Wainamoinen There began to build a vessel, Build a boat to cross the river. With the aid of Ilmarinen, From the oak he cut the row-locks, From the pine the oars be fashioned, From the aspen shapes the rudder. When the vessel they had finished, Quick they rolled it to the current, Hard they rowed and ever forward, On the Nawa-stream and waters, At the head of Nawa-river. Ilmatar, the ether-daughter, Foremost daughter of creation, Came to meet them on their journey, Thus addressed the coming strangers: "Who are ye of Northland heroes, Rowing on the Nawa-waters?" Wainamoinen gave this answer: "This the blacksmith, Ilmarinen, I the ancient Wainamoinen. Tell us now thy name and station, Whither going, whence thou comest, Where thy tribe-folk live and linger? Spake the daughter of the Ether: "I the oldest of the women, Am the first of Ether's daughters, Am the first of ancient mothers; Seven times have I been wedded. To the heroes of creation. Whither do ye strangers journey? Answered thus old Wainamoinen: "Fire has left Wainola's hearth-stones, Light has disappeared from Northland; Have been sitting long in darkness, Cold and darkness our companions; Now we journey to discover What the fire that fell from heaven, Falling from the cloud's red lining, To the deeps of earth and ocean." Ilmatar returned this answer: "Hard the flame is to discover, Hard indeed to find the Fire-child; Has committed many mischiefs, Nothing good has he accomplished; Quick the fire-ball fell from ether, From the red rims of the cloudlets, From the plains of the Creator, Through the ever-moving heavens, Through the purple ether-spaces, Through the blackened flues of Turi,