The Hero of Esthonia and Other Studies in the Romantic Literature of That CountryKirby, W. F. (William Forsell)
History
The Hero of Esthonia and Other Studies in the Romantic Literature of That Country
Kirby, W. F. (William Forsell)
Estonian literature; Estonian literature -- History and criticism
that he could not venture out into the open, for he was only a
poor naked little hedgehog. So the hero called to him to come,
and he would clothe him. The hedgehog crept out of his warm
nest, naked and shivering, and the hero cut a piece from the
lining of his own coat, and gave it to the hedgehog, who
joyfully wrapped himself in the warm covering. But the piece
was not large enough to cover him entirely, and his legs and
belly remained naked as before.
The Kalevide now wanted to sleep, but he was in the midst of a
swamp. He therefore fetched a load of sand from the distant
sandhills, to make himself a bed. He then felt into his bag for
something to eat, when his thumb came against the cold stiff
body of his little friend, who had been killed in his sleep by
a chance blow during the fight, without having had time to cry
out or move a limb. He was much grieved at the untimely death
of his _protégé_, and dug him a grave with his own hands, round
which he planted berry-bearing bushes. Then he ate his supper
and fell asleep, to dream of the events of the past day.
While he was asleep, the sorcerer himself crept
[Pg 83]
to his side, and by his spells and incantations, and the use
of magic herbs, threw him into a deep slumber, which lasted
for days and nights. Presently a messenger came in haste to
summon the king, and the cup-bearer directed him to Lake
Peipus; but no one had seen or heard anything of him.
On a fine summer's day, the people flocked from all parts of the
country to the sacred hill of Taara for a great festival, and as yet
there came no news of the king. Summer faded into autumn, and the
Kalevide still slept on, but he was dreaming of a new sword, much
better than the uncle of his father Kalev had forged for him, which was
forged in an underground smithy.
This sword had been forged by the pupils of Ilmarine
[62] in a workshop in the interior of a great mountain at the
middle point of the earth, the peak of which was lost in the
clouds. Seven strong smiths wrought it with copper hammers, the
handles of which were of silver, and one of their company
turned it on the fire or laid it on the anvil with tongs of the
purest silver, while Ilmarine himself watched every stroke of
the hammers.
[Pg 84]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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