Mighty Mikko: A Book of Finnish Fairy Tales and Folk Tales. Fillmore Parker

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style="font-size:15px;">      Ilona came to the surface of the water just where Osmo had landed. The first thing she saw was his boat at the water’s edge and curled up asleep in the bottom of the boat her own little dog, Pilka.

      “Pilka!” Ilona cried, and the little dog woke with a bark of joy and licked Ilona’s hand and yelped and frisked.

      Then Ilona sang this magic song to Pilka:

      “Peely, peely, Pilka, pide,

      Lift the latch and slip inside!

      Past the watchdog in the yard,

      Past the sleeping men on guard!

      Creep in softly as a snake,

      Then creep out before they wake!

      Peely, peely, Pilka, pide,

      Peely, peely, Pilka!”

      Pilka barked and frisked and said:

      “Yes, mistress, yes! I’ll do whatever you bid me!”

      Ilona gave the little dog an embroidered square of gold and silver which she herself had worked down in the Sea King’s palace.

      “Take this,” she said to Pilka, “and put it on the pillow where the King’s Son lies asleep. Perhaps when he sees it he will know that it comes from Osmo’s true sister and that the frightful creature he has married is Suyettar. Then perhaps he will release Osmo before the serpents devour him. Go now, my faithful Pilka, and come back to me before the dawn.”

      So Pilka raced off to the King’s palace carrying the square of embroidery in her teeth. Ilona waited and half an hour before sunrise the little dog came panting back.

      “What news, Pilka? How fares my brother and how is my poor love, the King’s Son?”

      “Osmo is still with the serpents,” Pilka answered, “but they haven’t eaten him yet. I left the embroidered square on the pillow where the King’s Son’s head was lying. Suyettar was asleep on the bed beside him where you should be, dear mistress. Suyettar’s awful mouth was open and she was snoring horribly. The King’s Son moved uneasily for he was troubled even in his sleep.”

      “And did you go through the castle, Pilka?”

      “Yes, dear mistress.”

      “And did you see the remains of the wedding feast?”

      “Yes, dear mistress, the remains of a feast that shamed the King’s Son, for Suyettar served bones instead of meat, fish heads, turnip tops, and bread burned to a cinder.”

      “Good Pilka!” Ilona said. “Good little dog! You have done well! Now the dawn is coming and I must go back to the Sea King’s palace. But I shall come again to-night and also to-morrow night and do you be here waiting for me.”

      Pilka promised and Ilona sank down into the sea to a clanking of chains that sounded like silver bells. The King’s Son heard them in his sleep and for a moment woke and said:

      “What’s that?”

      “What’s what?” snarled Suyettar. “You’re dreaming! Go back to sleep!”

      A few hours later when he woke again, he found the lovely square of embroidery on his pillow.

      “Who made this?” he cried.

      Suyettar was busy combing her snaky locks. She turned on him quickly.

      “Who made what?”

      When she saw the embroidery she tried to snatch it from him, but he held it tight.

      “I made it, of course!” she declared. “Who but me would sit up all night and work while you lay snoring!”

      But the King’s Son, as he folded the embroidery, muttered to himself:

      “It doesn’t look to me much like your work!”

      After he had breakfasted, the King’s Son asked for news of Osmo. A slave was sent to the place of the serpents and when he returned he reported that Osmo was sitting amongst them uninjured.

      “The old king snake has made friends with him,” he added, “and has wound himself around Osmo’s arm.”

      The King’s Son was amazed at this news and also relieved, for the whole affair troubled him sorely and he was beginning to suspect a mystery.

      He knew an old wise woman who lived alone in a little hut on the seashore and he decided he would go and consult her. So he went to her and told her about Osmo and how Osmo had deceived him in regard to his sister. Then he told her how the serpents instead of devouring Osmo had made friends with him and last he showed her the square of lovely embroidery he had found on his pillow that morning.

      “There is a mystery somewhere, granny,” he said in conclusion, “and I know not how to solve it.”

      The old woman looked at him thoughtfully.

      “My son,” she said at last, “that is never Osmo’s sister that you have married. Take an old woman’s word – it is Suyettar! Yet Osmo’s sister must be alive and the embroidery must be a token from her. It probably means that she begs you to release her brother.”

      “Suyettar!” repeated the King’s Son, aghast.

      At first he couldn’t believe such a horrible thing possible and yet that, if it were so, would explain much.

      “I wonder if you’re right,” he said. “I must be on my guard!”

      That night on the stroke of midnight to the sound of silver chimes Ilona came floating up through the waves and little Pilka, as she appeared, greeted her with barks of joy.

      As before Ilona sang:

      “Peely, peely, Pilka, pide,

      Lift the latch and slip inside!

      Past the watchdog in the yard,

      Past the sleeping men on guard!

      Creep in softly as a snake,

      Then creep out before they wake!

      Peely, peely, Pilka, pide,

      Peely, peely, Pilka!”

      This time Ilona gave Pilka a shirt for the King’s Son. Beautifully embroidered it was in gold and silver and Ilona herself had worked it in the Sea King’s palace.

      Pilka carried it safely to the castle and left it on the pillow where the King’s Son could see it as soon as he woke. Then Pilka visited the place of the serpents and before the first ray of dawn was back at the seashore to reassure Ilona of Osmo’s safety.

      Then dawn came and Ilona, as she sank in the waves to the chime of silver bells, called out to Pilka:

      “Meet me here to-night at the same hour! Fail me not, dear Pilka, for to-night is the last night that the Sea King will allow me to come to the upper world!”

      Pilka, howling with grief, made promise:

      “I’ll be here, dear mistress, that I will!”

      The King’s Son that morning, as he opened his eyes, saw the embroidered shirt lying on the pillow at his head. He thought

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