Anika’s men took to immediate flight. They ran straight back to the ship, weighed anchor, and made off. They were seen no more. The Russians dug a grave inside the ring. In it they laid the warrior Anika, and a stone barrow was raised over him. Then the fishermen accompanied the mysterious stranger back to the shore. There he called them together before him, and said: ‘See, the sun is now rising again over the world, and is casting his glorious light over man’s path! Fall each one of you upon his knees this newborn day, and give thanks to God. Your foe is no more, and henceforth no one will hinder you in your peaceful labours. God be with you all. Farewell.’ With these words the stranger vanished, and no one knew whence he came or whither he had gone. So the legend runs, and it is not possible to say how much of it is history and how much romance. A few years ago, however, a traveller visited the place, and long years after Anika’s death the barrow was opened. Some mouldering human bones were found, and among them a couple of leg-bones of an unusual size. We may therefore reasonably assume that Anika once lived, that he fought, and was conquered, and found his grave at this spot; but up to this time very few persons have known anything of the legend which associates Ambrose, a monk from the monastery of Petschenga, with his conqueror. Ambrose made his way back again over the waste swamps, and Unnas was ever at a little interval behind him. Presently he drew nearer. Ambrose heard something moving behind him, and turned round and saw him. ‘Well, are you there, my little friend? Come nearer, then,’ he said. Unnas sprang forward to him, and fell on his knees and kissed his hand. Then he took out of his bosom some bread and dried fish. ‘You have had nothing to eat to-day, Father. Won’t you have a little? You must want some food.’ ‘Thank you, my little Unnas. You are right; I do want some food. Did you see the fight?’ ‘Yes, but I did not venture to go close up.’ ‘No. Courageous you are not, Unnas, but you are a very faithful friend.’ ‘Yes, I am to you.’ ‘Not to others, aren’t you? Not even to my friend Jussi?’ ‘No; he beats me.’ ‘Well, but you don’t behave well to him, either. You enticed him once upon a time on to an island in the river, and left him there for a couple of days.’ ‘Yes, because he struck me, but perhaps some day I shall take him in as I took in Stallo.’ ‘What Stallo?’ ‘Oh, indeed, you see that, little as I am, I once killed a big Stallo, a goblin, or monster, such as one sometimes encounters here in the mountains, and which is so dangerous that one must either kill it, or be killed by it.’ ‘Was it here?’ ‘Yes, it was just here, by this very lake where we now are.’ ‘How did it happen?’