Full text of "Irish Fairy Tales"

See other formats

Google

This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on Hbrary shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project

to make the world's books discoverable online.

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject

to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books

are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover.

Marks, notations and other maiginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the

publisher to a library and finally to you.

Usage guidelines

Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing this resource, we liave taken steps to
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying.
We also ask that you:

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for
personal, non-commercial purposes.

+ Refrain fivm automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help.

+ Maintain attributionTht GoogXt "watermark" you see on each file is essential for informing people about this project and helping them find
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it.

+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liabili^ can be quite severe.

About Google Book Search

Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web

at |http : //books . google . com/|

HARVARD
COLLEGE
LIBRARY

FROM THE

Subscription Fund

IRISH FAIRY TALES

By JAMES STEPHENS

Crock of Gold, Thb

Dbmi-Gods, Thb

Grbbn Bbanchbs

Hbbb Abb Ladxbs

Hill of Vision, Thb

Insurrbction in Dubun, Thb

Irish Fairy Talbs Illustrated by

Arthur Rackham

Rbincarnations

Songs from thb Clay

IRISH FAIRY TALES

JAMES STEPHENS

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

1934

CopniGBT, zgao,

bt the macmillan company.

All rights reserved — no part of this book may be
reproduced in any form without permission in writing
from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes
to quote brief passages in connection with a review
written for inclusion in magazine or newspaper.

Set up and electrotyped. Published November, xgaa
Re-issued, without illustrations, April, 1923.

FinrriD nr m vmxiD ctatbs or amieica

SEUMAS AND IRIS

AND TO

HELEN ERASER

CONTENTS

The Story of Tuan mac Cairill . . • i

The Boyhood of Fionn 34

The Birth of Bran 102

OisfN's Mother 122

The Wooing of Becfola 148

The Little Brawl at Allen • . . . lyb-^f-^

The Carl of the Drab Coat .• • • . 194^;

The Enchanted Cave of Cesh Corran • 224?"

Becuma of the White Skin . • • . 244^.

Monoan's Frenzy 288

-I

THE STORY OF TUAN MAC

CAIRILL

CHAPTER I

FiNNiAN, the Abbot of Moville, went south-
wards and eastwards in great haste. News
had come to him in Donegal that there were
yet people in his own province who believed
in gods that he did not approve of, and the
gods that we do not approve of are treated
scurvily, even by saintly men.

He was told of a powerful gentleman who
observed neither Saint's day nor Simday.

"A powerful person!" said Finnian.

"All that," was the reply.

"We shall try this person's power," said
Finnian.

"He is reputed to be a wise and hardy
man," said his informant.

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch,

"We shall test his wisdom and his hardi-
hood,"

"He is," that gossip whispered — 'lie is a
magician,"

"I will magician him," cried Finnian
angrily. "Where does that man live?"

He was informed, and he proceeded in
that direction without delay.

In no great time he came to the stronghold
of the gentleman who followed ancient
ways, and he demanded admittance in order
that he might preach and prove the new
God, and exorcise and terrify and banish
even the memory of the old one; for to a
god grown old Time is as ruthless as to a
beggarman grown old.

But the Ulster gentleman refused Finnian
admittance.

He barricaded his house, he shuttered his
windows, and in a gloom of indignation and
protest he continued the practices of ten
thousand years, and would not hearken to
Finnian calling at the window or to Time
knocking at his door.

But of those adversaries it was the first he
redoubted.

Finnian loomed on him as a portent and

n THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL

a terror; but he had no fear of Time. In-
deed he was the foster-brother of Time, and
so disdainful of the bitter god that he did
not even disdain him; he leaped over the
sc)rthe, he dodged under it, and the sole
occasions on which Time laughs is when he
chances on Tuan, the son of Cairill, the son
of Muredac Red-neck.

CHAPTER II

Now Finnian could not abide that any
person should resist both the Gospel and
himself, and he proceeded to force the
stronghold by peaceful but powerful meth-
ods. He fasted on the gentleman, and he
did so to such purpose that he was admitted
to the house; for to an hospitable heart the
idea that a stranger may expire on your
doorstep from sheer famine cannot be tol-
erated. The gentleman, however, did not
give in without a struggle: he thought that
when Finnian had grown sufficiently hungry
he would lift the siege and take himself off
to sane place where he might get food. But
he did not know Finnian. The great abbot

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch,

sat down on a spot just beyond the door, and
composed himself to all that might follow
from his action. He bent his gaze on the
ground between his feet, and entered into a
meditation from which he would only be
released by admission or death.

The first day passed quietly.

Often the gentleman would sena a servi-
tor to spy if that deserter of the gods was
still before his door, and each time the
servant replied that he was still there.

"He will be gone in the morning," said
the hopeful master.

On the morrow the state of siege con-
tinued, and through that day the servants
were sent many times to observe through
spy-holes.

"Go," he would say, "and find out if the
worshipper of new gods has taken himself
away."

But the servants returned each time with
the same mformation.

"The new druid is still there," they said.

All through that day no one could leave
the stronghold. And the enforced seclusion
wrought on the minds of the servants, while

II THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL

the cessation of all work banded them
together in small groups that whispered and
discussed and disputed. Then these groups
would disperse to peep through the spy-hole
at the patient immobile figure seated before
the door, wrapped in a meditation that was
timeless and imconcerned. They took fright
at the spectacle, and once or twice a woman
screamed hysterically, and was bundled
away with a companion's hand clapped on
her mouth, so that the ear of their master
should not be affronted.

"He has his own troubles," they said. "It
is a combat of the gods that is taking place."

So much for the women; but the men
also were uneasy. They prowled up and
down, tramping from the spy-hole to the
kitchen, and from the kitchen to the tur-
reted roof. And from the roof they would
look down on the motionless figure below,
and speculate on many things, including the
staimchness of man, the qualities of their
master, and even the possibility that the
new gods might be as powerful as the old.
From these peepings and discussions they
would return languid and discouraged.

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

"If," said one irritable guard, "if we
buzzed a spear at that persistent stranger, or
if one slung at him with a jagged pebble !"

"What!" his master demanded wrath-
fuUy, "is a spear to be thrown at an un-
armed stranger? And from this house!"

And he soimdly cuffed that indelicate
servant.

"Be at peace all of you," he said, "for
himger has a whip, and he will drive the
stranger away in die night."

The household retired to wretched beds;
but for the master of the house there was no
sleep. He marched his halls all night, going
often to the spy-hole to see if that shadow
was still sitting in the shade, and pacing
thence, tormented, preoccupied, refusing
even the nose of his favourite dog as it
pressed lovingly into his closed palm.

On the morrow he gave in.

The great door was swung wide, and two
of his servants carried Finnian into the
house, for the saint could no longer walk or
stand upright by reason of the hunger and
exposure to which he had submitted. But
his frame was tough as the imconquerable
spirit that dwelt within it, and in no long

Ill THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL

time he was ready for whatever might come
of dispute or anathema.

Being quite re-established he undertook
the conversion of the master of the house,
and the siege he laid against that notable
intelligence was long spoken of among those
who are interested in such things.

He had beaten the disease of Mugain; he
had beaten his own pupil the great Colm
Cille; he beat Tuan also, and just as the
latter's door had opened to the persistent
stranger, so his heart opened, and Finnian
marched there to do the will of God, and his
own will.

CHAPTER III

One day they were talking together about
the majesty of God and His love, for al-
though Tuan had now received much in-
struction on this subject he yet needed more,
and he laid as close a siege on Finnian as
Finnian had before that laid on him. But
man works outwardly and inwardly, after
rest he has energy, after energy he needs
repose; so, when we have given instruction

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

for a time, we need instruction, and must
receive it or the spirit faints and wisdom
herself grows bitter.

Therefore Finnian said: "Tell me now
about yourself, dear heart."

But Tuan was avid of information about
the True God.

"No, no," he said, "the past has nothing
more of interest for me, and I do not wish
anything to come between my soul and its
instruction ; continue to teach me, dear friend
and saintly father."

"I will do that," Finnian replied, "but I
must first meditate deeply on you, and must
know you well. Tell me your past, my be-
loved, for a man is his past, and is to be
known by it."

But Tuan pleaded:

"Let the past be content with itself, for
man needs forgetfulness as well as memory."

"My son," said Finnian, "all that has
ever been done has been done for the glory
of God, and to confess our good and evil
deeds is part of instruction; for the soul
must recall its acts and abide by them, or
renounce them by confession and penitence.
Tell me your genealogy first, and by what

Ill THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL

descent you occupy these lands and strong-
hold, and then I will examine your acts and
your conscience."

Tuan replied obediently:

"I am known as Tuan, son of Cairill, son
of Muredac Red-neck, and these are the
hereditary lands of my father."

The saint nodded.

"I am not as well acquainted with Ulster
genealogies as I should be, yet I know some-
thing of them. I am by blood a Leinster-
man," he continued.

"Mine is a long pedigree," Tuan mur-
mured.

Finnian received that information with
respect and interest.

"I also," he said, 'Tiave an honourable
record."

His host continued:

"I am indeed Tuan, the son of Stam, the
son of Sera, who was brother to Partholon."

"But," said Finnian in bewilderment,
"there is an error here, for you have recited
two different genealogies."

"Different genealogies, indeed," replied
Tuan thoughtfully, "but they are my gene-
alogies."

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"I do not understand this," Finnian de-
clared roundly.

"I am now known as Tuan mac Cairill/'
the other replied, "but in the days of old I
was known as Tuan mac Starn, mac Sera."

"The brother of Partholon," the saint
gasped.

"That is my pedigree," Tuan said.

"But," Finnian objected in bewilder-
ment, "Patholon came to Ireland not long
after the Flood."

"I came with him," said Tuan mildly.

The saint pushed his chair back hastily,
and sat staring at his host, and as he stared
the blood grew chill in his veins, and his
hair crept along his scalp and stood on end.

CHAPTER IV

But Finnian was not one who remained long
in bewilderment. He thought on the might
of God and he became that might, and was
tranquil.

He was one who loved God and Ireland,
and to the person who could instruct him in
these great themes he gave all the interest of
his mind and the sympathy of his heart.

IV THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL

"It is a wonder you tell me, my beloved,"
he said. "And now you must tell me
more."

"What must I tell?" asked Tuan resign-
edly.

"Tell me of the beginning of time in
Ireland, and of the bearing of Partholon,
the son of Noah's son."

"I have almost forgotten him," said Tuan.
*'A greatly bearded, greatly shouldered man
he was. A man of sweet deeds and sweet
ways."

"Continue, my love," said Finnian.

"He came to Ireland in a ship. Twenty-
four men and twenty-four women came with
him.^ But before that time no man had
come to Ireland, and in the western parts of
the world no human being lived or moved.
As we drew on Ireland from the sea the
coimtry seemed like an unending forest. Far
as the eye could reach, and in whatever di-
rection, there were trees; and from these
there came the unceasing singing of birds.
Over all that land the sun shone warm and
beautiful, so that to our sea-weary eyes, our
wind-tormented ears, it seemed as if we were
driving on Paradise.

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"We landed and we heard the nimble of
water going gloomily through the darkness
of the forest. Following the water we came
to a glade where the sun shone and where
the earth was warmed, and there Partholon
rested with his twenty-four couples, and
made a city and a livelihood.

"There were fish in the rivers of Eire,
there were animals in her coverts. Wild
and shy and monstrous creatures ranged in
her plains and forests. Creatures that one
could see through and walk through. Long
we lived in ease, and we saw new animals
grow — the bear, the wolf, the badger, the
deer, and the boar.

"Partholon's people increased until from
twenty-four couples there came five thousand
people, who lived in amity and contentment
although they had no wits."

"They had no wits!" Finnian com-
mented.

"They had no need of wits," Tuan said.

"I have heard that the first-bom were
mindless," said Finnian. "Continue your
story, my beloved."

"Then, sudden as a rising wind, between
one night and a morning, there came a sick-

V THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL

ness that bloated the stomach and purpled
the skin, and on the seventh day all of the
race of Partholon were dead, save one man
only."

"There always escapes one man," said
Finnian thoughtfully.

"And I am that man," his companion af-
firmed.

Tuan shaded his brow with his hand, and
he remembered backwards through incred-
ible ages to the beginning of the world and
the first days of Eire. And Finnian, with
his blood again nmning chill and his scalp
crawling uneasily, stared backwards with
him.

CHAPTER V

"Tell on, my love," Finnian murmured.

"I was alone," said Tuan. "I was so
alone that my own shadow frightened me.
I was so alone that the sound of a bird in
flight, or the creaking of a dew-drenched
bough whipped me to cover as a rabbit is
scared to his burrow.

**The creatures of the forest scented me
and knew I was alone. They stole with

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

silken pad behind my back and snarled when
I faced them; the long, grey wolves with
hanging tongues and staring eyes chased me
to my cleft rock; there was no creature so
weak but it might hunt me; there was no
creature so timid but it might outface me.
And so I lived for two tens of years and two
years, until I knew all that a beast surmises
and had forgotten all that a man had known.

"I could pad as gently as any; I could
nm as tirelessly. I could be invisible and
patient as a wild cat crouching among
leaves ; I could smell danger in my sleep and
leap at it with wakeful claws; I could bark
and growl and clash with my teeth and tear
with them."

"Tell on, my beloved," said Finnian;
"you shall rest in God, dear heart."

"At the end of that time," said Tuan,
"Nemed the son of Agnoman came to Ire-
land with a fleet of thirty-four barques, and
in each barque there were thirty couples of
people."

"I have heard it," said Finnian.

"My heart leaped for joy when I saw the
great fleet roimding the land, and I followed
them along scarped cliffs, leaping from rock

V THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL

to rock like a wild goat, while the ships
tacked and swung seeking a harbour. There
I stooped to drink at a pool, and I saw my-
self in the chill water.

"I saw that I was hairy and tufty and
bristled as a savage boar; that I was lean as
a stripped bush; that I was greyer than a
badger; withered and wrinkled like an
empty sack; naked as a fish; wretched as a
starving crow in winter; and on my fingers
and toes there were great curving claws, so
that I looked like nothing that was known,
like nothing that was animal or divine. And
I sat by the pool weeping my loneliness and
wildness and my stern old age; and I could
do no more than cry and lament between
the earth and the sky, while the beasts that
tracked me listened from behind the trees,
or crouched among bushes to stare at me
from their drowsy covert.

"A storm arose, and when I looked again
from my tall cliff I saw that great fleet roll-
ing as in a giant's hand. At times they were
pitched against the sky and staggered aloft,
spinning gustily there like wind-blown
leaves. Then they were hurled from these
dizzy tops to the flat, moaning gulf, to the

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

glassy, inky horror that swirled and whirled
between ten waves. At times a wave leaped
howling under a ship, and with a buffet
dashed it into the air, and chased it upwards
with thunder stroke on stroke, and followed
again, close as a chasing wolf, trying with
hammering on hammering to beat in the
wide-wombed bottom and suck out the
frightened lives through one black gape. A
wave fell on a ship and sank it down with a
thrust, stern as though a whole sky had
tumbled at it, and the barque did not cease
to go down until it crashed and sank in the
sand at the bottom of the sea.

"The night came, and with it a thousand
darknesses fell from the screeching sky. Not
a round-eyed creature of the night might
pierce an inch of that multiplied gloom. Not
a creature dared creep or stand. For a great
wind strode the world lashing its league-
long whips in cracks of thunder, and singing
to itself, now in a world-wide yell, now in
an ear-dizzying hum and buzz; or with a
long snarl and whine it hovered over the
world searching for life to destroy.

"And at times, from the moaning and
yelping blackness of the sea, there came a

VI THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL

sound — thin-drawn as from millions of
miles away, distinct as though uttered in the
ear like a whisper of confidence — and I knew
that a drowning man was calling on his God
as he thrashed and was battered into silence,
and that a blue-lipped woman was calling
on her man as her hair whipped round
her brows and she whirled about like a
top.

"Around me the trees were dragged from
earth with dying groans; they leaped into
the air and flew like birds. Great waves
whizzed from the sea: spinning across the
cliffs and hurtling to the earth in monstrous
clots of foam; the very rocks came tnm-
dling and sidling and grinding among the
trees ; and in that rage, and in that horror of
blackness, I fell asleep, or I was beaten into
slumber/'

CHAPTER VI

"There I dreamed, and I saw myself
changing into a stag in dream, and I felt
in dream the beating of a new heart within
me, and in dream I arched my neck and
braced my powerful limbs.

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"I awoke from the dream, and I was that
which I had dreamed.

"I stood a while stamping upon a rock,
with my bristling head swung high, breath-
ing through wide nostrils all the savour of
the world. For I had come marvellously
from decrepitude to strength. I had writhed
from the bonds of age and was young again.
f 1 smelled the turf and knew for the first time
(i how sweet that smelled. And like lightning

Imy moving nose sniffed all things to my
heart and separated them into knowledge.
"Long I stood there, ringing my iron hoof
on stone, and learning all things through my
nose. Each breeze that came from the right
hand or the left brought me a tale. A wind
carried me the tang of wolf, and against
that smell I stared and stamped. And on
a wind there came the scent of my own kind,
and at that I belled. Oh, loud and clear
and sweet was the voice of the great stag.
With what ease my lovely note went lilt-
ing. With what joy I heard the answering
call. With what delight I bounded, bounded,
bounded; light as a bird's plume, powerful
as a storm, untiring as the sea.

"Here now was ease in ten-yard spring-
ings, with a swinging head, with the rise and

VI THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL

fall of a swallow, with the curve and flow
and urge of an otter of the sea. What a tingle
dwelt about my heart ! What a thrill spun
to the lofty points of my antlers ! How the
world was new! How the sun was new!
How the wind caressed me!

"With unswerving forehead and steady
eye I met all that came. The old, lone wolf
leaped sideways, snarling, and slimk away.
The lumbering bear swimg his head of hesi-
tations and thought again; he trotted his
small red eye away with him to a near-by
brake. The stags of my race fled from my
rocky forehead, or were pushed back and
back until their legs broke imder them and
I trampled them to death. I was the be-
loved, the well known, the leader of the
herds of Ireland.

"And at times I came back from my
boimdings about Eire, for the strings of my
heart were drawn to Ulster; and, standing
away, my wide nose took the air, while I
knew with joy, with terror, that men were
blown on the wind. A proud head hung to
the turf then, and the tears of memory rolled
from a large, bright eye.

"At times I drew near, delicately, stand-
ing among thick leaves or crouched in long

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

grown grasses, and I stared and mourned as
I looked on men. For Nemed and four
couples had been saved from that fierce
storm, and I saw them increase and multiply
until four thousand couples lived and
laughed and were riotous in the sun, for the
people of Nemed had small minds but great
activity. They were savage fighters and
himters.

"But one time I came, drawn by that in-
tolerable anguish of memory, and all of
these people were gone : the place that knew
them was silent : in the land where they had
moved there was nothing of them but their
bones that glinted in the sun.

"Old age came on me there. Among
these bones weariness crept into my limbs.
My head grew heavy, my eyes dim, my knees
jerked and trembled, and there the wolves
dared chase me.

"I went again to the cave that had been
my home when I was an old man.

"One day I stole from the cave to snatch
a mouthful of grass, for I was closely be-
sieged by wolves. They made their rush,
and I barely escaped from them. They sat
beyond the cave staring at me.

vn THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL

"I knew their tongue. I knew all that
they said to each other, and all that they said
to me. But there was yet a thud left in my
forehead, a deadly trample in my hoof.
They did not dare come into the cave.

" 'To-morrow,' they said, 'we will tear
out your throat, and gnaw on your living
haunch.' "

CHAPTER VII

"Then my soul rose to the height of Docwn,
and I intended all that might happen to me,
and agreed to it.

" *To-morrow,' I said, T will go out
among ye, and I will die,' and at that
the wolves howled joyfully, hungrily,
impatiently.

"I slept, and I saw myself changing into
a boar in dream, and I felt in dream the
beating of a new heart within me, and in
dream I stretched my powerful neck and
braced my eager limbs. I awoke from my
dream, and I was that which I had dreamed.

"The night wore away, the darkness
lifted, the day came; and from without the
cave the wolves called to me:

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

" *Come out, O Skinny Stag. Come out
and die/

"And I, with joyful heart, thrast a black
bristle through the hole of the cave, and
when they saw that wriggling snout, those
curving tusks, that red fierce eye, the wolves
fled yelping, tumbling over each other, fran-
tic with terror; and I behind them, a wild-
cat for leaping, a giant for strength, a devil
for ferocity ; a madness and gladness of lusty
imsparing life; a killer, a champion, a boar
who could not be defied.

"I took the lordship of the boars of Ire-
land.

"Wherever I looked among my tribes I
saw love and obedience: whenever I ap-
peared among the strangers they fled away.
Ah, the wolves feared me then, and the
great, grim bear went bounding on heavy
paws. I charged him at the head of my
troop and rolled him over and over ; but it is
not easy to kill the bear, so deeply is his life
packed under that stinking pelt. He picked
himself up and ran, and was knocked down,
and ran again blindly, butting into trees and
stones. Not a claw did the big bear flash,
not a tooth did he show, as he ran whimper-

VIII THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL

ing like a baby, or as he stood with my nose
rammed against his mouth, snarling up into
his nostrils.

"I challenged all that moved. All crea-
tures but one. For men had again come to
Ireland. Semion, the son of Stariath, with
his people, from whom the men of Domnann
and the Fir Bolg and the Galiuin are de-
scended. These I did not chase, and when
they chased me I fled.

"Often I would go, drawn by my memo-
ried heart, to look at them as they moved
among their fields; and I spoke to my mind
in bitterness:

"When the people of Partholon were
gathered in counsel my voice was heard; it
was sweet to all who heard it, and the words
I spoke were wise. The eyes of women
brightened and softened when they looked
at me. They loved to hear him when he
sang who now wanders in the forest with a
tusky herd."

CHAPTER VIII

"Old age again overtook me. Weariness
stole into my limbs, and anguish dozed into

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"I could pad as gently as any; I could
run as tirelessly. I could be invisible and
patient as a wild cat crouching among
leaves; I could smell danger in my sleep and
leap at it with wakeful claws; I could bark
and growl and clash with my teeth and tear
with them."

"Tell on, my beloved," said Finnian;
"you shall rest in God, dear heart."

"At the end of that time," said Tuan,
"Nemed the son of Agnoman came to Ire-
land with a fleet of thirty-four barques, and
in each barque there were thirty couples of
people."

"I have heard it," said Finnian.

"My heart leaped for joy when I saw the
great fleet rounding the land, and I followed
them along scarped cliffs,* leaping from rock

V THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL

to rock like a wild goat, while the ships
tacked and swung seeking a harbour. There
I stooped to drink at a pool, and I saw my-
self in the chill water.

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"The night came, and with it a thousand
darknesses fell from the screeching sky. Not
a roimd-eyed creature of the night might
pierce an inch of that multiplied gloom. Not
a creature dared creep or stand. For a great
wind strode the world lashing its league-
long whips in cracks of thunder, and singing
to itself, now in a world-wide yell, now in
an ear-dizzying hum and buzz; or with a
long snarl and whine it hovered over the
world searching for life to destroy.

"And at times, from the moaning and
yelping blackness of the sea, there came a

VI THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL

"Aroimd me the trees were dragged from
earth with dying groans; they leaped into
the air and flew like birds. Great waves
whizzed from the sea: spinning across the
cliffs and hurtling to the earth in monstrous
clots of foam; the very rocks came trun-
dling and sidling and grinding among the
trees ; and in that rage, and in that horror of
blackness, I fell asleep, or I was beaten into
slumber."

CHAPTER VI

"There I dreamed, and I saw myself
changing into a stag in dream, and I felt
in dream the beating of a new heart within
me, and in dream I arched my neck and
braced my powerful limbs.

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"I awoke from the dream, and I was that
which I had dreamed.

, from the bonds of age and was young again.

J I smelled the turf and knew for the first time
how sweet that smelled. And like lightning
my moving nose sniffed all things to my

, heart and separated them into knowledge.

\ "Long I stood there, ringing my iron hoof
on stone, and learning all things through my
nose. Each breeze that came from the right
hand or the left brought me a tale. A wind
carried me the tang of wolf, and against
that smell I stared and stamped. And on
a wind there came the scent of my own kind,
and at that I belled. Oh, loud and clear
and sweet was the voice of the great stag.
With what ease my lovely note went lilt-
ing. With what joy I heard the answering
call. With what delight I bounded, bounded,
bounded; light as a bird's plume, powerful
as a storm, untiring as the sea.

"Here now was ease in ten-yard spring-
ings, with a swinging head, with the rise and

VI THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL

"With unswerving forehead and steady
eye I met all that came. The old, lone wolf
leaped sideways, snarling, and slimk away.
The lumbering bear swung his head of hesi-
tations and thought again; he trotted his
small red eye away with him to a near-by
brake. The stags of my race fled from my
rocky forehead, or were pushed back and
back imtil their legs broke under them and
I trampled them to death. I was the be-
loved, the well known, the leader of the
herds of Ireland.

"At times I drew near, delicately, stand-
ing among thick leaves or crouched in long

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"Old age came on me there. Among
these bones weariness crept into my limbs.
My head grew heavy, my eyes dim, my knees
jerked and trembled, and there the wolves
dared chase me.

"I went again to the cave that had been
my home when I was an old man.

"One day I stole from the cave to snatch
a mouthful of grass, for I was closely be-
sieged by wolves. They made their rush,
and I barely escaped from them. They sat
beyond the cave staring at me.

VII THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL

" *To-morrow,' they said, 'we will tear
out your throat, and gnaw on your living
haunch.' "

CHAPTER VII

"Then my soul rose to the height of Dootci,
and I intended all that might happen to me,
and agreed to it.

" *To-morrow,' I said, T will go out
among ye, and I will die,' and at that
the wolves howled joyfully, hungrily,
impatiently.

"The night wore away, the darkness
lifted, the day came; and from without the
cave the wolves called to me:

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

" 'Come out, O Skinny Stag. Come out
and die/

"I took the lordship of the boars of Ire-
land.

VIII THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL

ing like a baby, or as he stood with my nose
rammed against his mouth, snarling up into
his nostrils.

"Often I would go, drawn by my memo-
ried heart, to look at them as they moved
among their fields ; and I spoke to my mind
in bitterness:

CHAPTER VIII

"Old age again overtook me. Weariness
stole into my limbs, and anguish dozed into

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

my mind. I went to my Ulster cave and
dreamed my dream, and I changed into a
hawk.

"I left the ground. The sweet air was
my kingdom, and my bright eye stared on a
hundred miles. I soared, I swooped; I
hung, motionless as a living stone, over the
abyss; I lived in joy and slept in peace, and
had my fill of the sweetness of life.

"During that time Beothach, the son of
larbonel the Prophet, came to Ireland with
his people, and there was a great battle be-
tween his men and the children of Semion.
Long I hung over that combat, seeing every
spear that hurtled, every stone that whizzed
from a sling, every sword that flashed up and
down, and the endless glittering of the
shields. And at the end I saw that the
victory was with larbonel. And from his
people the Tuatha De and the Ande came,
although their origin is forgotten, and
learned people, because of their excellent
wisdom and intelligence, say that they came
from heaven.

"These are the people of Faery. All these
I are the gods.

'^ "For long, long years I was a hawk, t

vin THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL

knew every hill and stream; every field and
glen of Ireland. I knew the shape of cliflFs
and coasts, and how all places looked under
the sun or moon. And I was still a hawk
when the sons of Mil drove the Tuatha De
Danann imder the ground, and held Ire-
land against arms of wizardry ; and this was
the coming of men and the beginning of
genealogies.

"Then I grew old, and in my Ulster cave
close to the sea I dreamed my dream, and in
it I became a salmon. The green tides of
Ocean rose over me and my dream, so that
I drowned in the sea and did not die, for I
awoke in deep waters, and I was that which
I dreamed.

"I had been a man, a stag, a boar, a bird,

and noseLX ^^^ ^ ^^^' ^^ ^^^ ^y changes I
had joy andTuIness of life. But in the water

joy lay deeper, life pulsed deeper. For on
land or air there is always something exces-
sive and hindering; as arms that swing at
the sides of a man, and which the mind must
remember. The stag has legs to be tucked
away for sleep, and untucked for movement ;
and the bird has wings that must be folded
and pecked and cared for. But the fish has

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

but one piece from his nose to his tail. He
is complete, single, and unencumbered. He
turns in one turn, and goes up and down:
and roimd in one sole movement.

"How I flew through the soft element:
how I joyed in the country where there is no
harshness : in the element which upholds and
gives way; which caresses and lets go, and
will not let you fall. For man may stumble
in a furrow; the stag tumble from a cliflF;
the hawk, wing-weary and beaten, with
darkness around him and the storm behind,
may dash his brains against a tree. But
the home of the salmon is his delight, and
the sea guards all her creatures."

CHAPTER IX

"I BECAME the king of the salmon, and, with
my multitudes, I ranged on the tides of the
world. Green and purple distances were
imder me : green and gold the sunlit regions
above. In these latitudes I moved through
a world of amber, myself amber and gold;
in those others, in a sparkle of lucent blue, I
curved, lit like a living jewel: and in these
again, through dusks of ebony all mazed

IX THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL

with silver, I shot and shone, the wonder of
the sea.

"I saw the monsters of the uttermost
ocean go heaving by; and the long lithe
brutes that are toothed to their tails: and
below, where gloom dipped down on gloom,
vast, livid tangles that coiled and uncoiled,
and lapsed down steeps and hells of the sea
where even the salmon could not go.

"I knew the sea. I knew the secret caves
where ocean roars to ocean ; the floods that
are icy cold, from which the nose of a salmon
leaps back as at a sting; and the warm
streams in which we rocked and dozed and
were carried forward without motion. I
swam on the outermost rim of the great
world, where nothing was but the sea and
the sky and the salmon; where even the
wind was silent, and the water was clear as
clean grey rock.

"And then, far away in the sea, I re-
membered Ulster, and there came on me an
instant, imcontrollable anguish to be there.
I turned, and through days and nights I
swam tirelessly, jubilantly; with terror wak-
ening in me, too, and a whisper through my
being that I must reach Ireland or die.

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"I fought my way to Ulster from the sea.

"Ah, how that end of the journey was
hard ! A sickness was racking in every one
of my bones, a languor and weariness creep-
ing through my every fibre and muscle. The
waves held me back and held me back; the
soft waters seemed to have grown hard ; and
it was as though I were urging through a
rock as I strained towards Ulster from the
sea.

"So tired I was! I could have loosened
my frame and been swept away; I could
have slept and been drifted and wafted
away; swinging on grey-green billows that
had turned from the land and were heaving
and mounting and surging to the far blue
water.

"Only the unconquerable heart of the
salmon could brave that end of toil. The
sound of the rivers of Ireland racing down
to the sea came to me in the last numb eflFort :
the love of Ireland bore me up : the gods of
the rivers trod to me in the white-curled
breakers, so that I left the sea at long, long
last ; and I lay in sweet water in the curve of
a crannied rock, exhausted, three parts dead,
triumphant."

X THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL

CHAPTER X

"Delight and strength came to me again,
and now I explored all the inland ways, the
great lakes of Ireland, and her swift brown
rivers.

"What a joy to lie imder an inch of water
basking in the sim, or beneath a shady ledge
to watch the small creatures that speed like
lightning on the rippling top. I saw the
dragon-flies flash and dart and turn, with a
poise, with a speed that no other winged
thing knows : I saw the hawk hover and stare
and swoop : he fell like a falling stone, but
he could not catch the king of the salmon : I
saw the cold-eyed cat stretching along a
bough level with the water, eager to hook
and lift the creatures of the river. And I
saw men.

"They saw me also. They came to know
me and look for me. They lay in wait at
the waterfalls up which I leaped like a silver
flash. They held out nets for me; they hid
traps under leaves; they made cords of the
colour of water, of the colour of weeds — ^but
this salmon had a nose that knew how a

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

weed felt and how a string — they drifted
meat on a sightless string, but I knew of the
hook; they thrust spears at me, and threw
lances which they drew back again with a
cord.

"Many a wound I got from men, many a
sorrowful scar.

"Every beast pursued me in the waters
and along the banks; the barking, black-
skinned otter came after me in lust and gust
and swirl; the wild-cat fished for me; the
hawk and the steep-winged, spear-beaked
birds dived down on me, and men crept on
me with nets the width of a river, so diat I
got no rest. My life became a ceaseless
scurry and wound and escape, a burden and
anguish of watchfulness — and then I was
caught."

CHAPTER XI

"The fishermen of Cairill, the King of
Ulster, took me in his net. Ah, that was
a happy man when he saw me ! He shouted
for joy when he saw the great salmon in
his net.

XI THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL

"I was still in the water as he hauled deli-
cately. I was still in the water as he pulled
me to the bank. My nose touched air and
spim from it as from fire, and I dived with
all my might against the bottom of the net,
holding yet to the water, loving it, mad with
terror that I must quit that loveliness. But
the net held and I came up.

" *Be quiet. King of the River,* said the
fisherman, *give in to Doom,' said he.

**I was in air, and it was as though I were
in fire. The air pressed on me like a fiery
mountain. It beat on my scales and scorched
them. It rushed down my throat and scalded
me. It weighed on me and squeezed me, so
that my eyes felt as though they must burst
from my head, my head as though it would
leap from my body, and my body as though
it would swell and expand and fly in a thou-
sand pieces.

"The light blinded me, the heat tormented
me, the dry air made me shrivel and gasp;
and, as he lay on the grass the great salmon
whirled his desperate nose once more to the
river, and leaped, leaped, leaped, even un-
der the moimtain of air. He could leap
upwards, but not forwards, and yet he

>■

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

leaped, for in each rise he could see the
twinkling waves, the rippling and curling
waters.

"'Be at ease, O King,' said the fisher-
man. *Be at rest, my beloved. Let go the
stream. Let the oozy marge be forgotten,
and the sandy bed where the shades dance
all in green and gloom, and the brown flood
sings along.'

"And as he carried me to the palace he
sang a song of the river, and a song of
Doom, and a song in praise of the King of
the Waters.

"When the king's wife saw me she de-
sired me. I was put over a fire and roasted,
and she ate me. And when time passed she
gave birth to me, and I was her son and the
son of Cairill the king. I remember warmth
and darkness and movement and unseen
sounds. All that happened I remember,
from the time I was on the gridiron until
the time I was bom. I forget nothing of
these things."

"And now," said Finnian, "you will be
bom again, for I shall baptize you into the
family of the Living God."

XI THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL

So far the story of Tuan the son of
Cairill.

No man knows if he died in those distant
ages when Finnian was Abbot of Moville,
or if he still keeps his fort in Ulster, watch-
ing all things, and remembering them for
the glory of God and the honour of Ireland.

THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

He was a king, a seer, and a poet. He was a
lord with a manifold and great train. He was our
magician, our knowledgeable one, our soothsayer.
All that he did was sweet with him. And, however
ye deem my testimony of Fionn excessive, and, al-
though ye hold my praising overstrained, neverthe-
less, and by the King that is above me, he was three
times better than all I say. — Saint Patrick.

CHAPTER I

FiONN* got his first training among women.
There is no wonder in that, for it is the
pup's mother teaches it to fight, and women
kiiow that fighting is a necessary art al-
though men pretend there are others that
are better. These were the women druids,
Bovmall and Lia Luachra.

It will be wondered why his own mother
did not train him in the first natural sav-

^ Pronounce Fcwn to rhyme with "tunc."

CH. I THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

ageries of existence, but she could not do it.
She could not keep him with her for dread
of the clann-Morna. The sons of Morna
had been fighting and intriguing for a long
time to oust her husband, Uail, from the
captaincy of the Fianna of Ireland, and
they had ousted him at last by killing him.
It was the only way they could get rid of
such a man ; but it was not an easy way, for
what Fionn's father did not know in arms
could not be taught to him even by Morna.
Still, the hound that can wait will catch a
hare at last, and even Manannan sleeps.

Fioim's mother was beautiful, long-
haired Muime: so she is always referred
to. She was the daughter of Teigue, the
son of Nuada from Faery, and her mother
was Ethlinn. That is, her brother was
Lugh of the Long Hand himself, and with
a god, and such a god, for brother we may
marvel that she could have been in dread
of Morna or his sons, or of any one. But
women have strange loves, strange fears,
and these are so boimd up with one another
that the thing which is presented to us is not
often the thing that is to be seen.

However it may be, when Uail died

IMSH FAIRY TALES cm.

Muime got married again to the King of
Kerry. She gave the child to Bovmall and
Lia Luachra to rear, and we may be sure
that she gave injunctions with him, and
many of them. The yoimgster was brought
to the woods of Slieve Bloom and was
nursed there in secret.

It is likely the women were fond of him,
for other than Fionn there was no life about
them. He would be their life; and their
eyes may have seemed as twin benedictions
resting on the small fair head. He was
fair-haired, and it was for his fairness that
he was afterwards called Fionn; but at this
period he was known as Deimne. They saw
the food they put into his little frame repro-
duce itself lengthways and sideways in
tough inches, and in springs and energies
that crawled at first, and then toddled, and
then ran. He had birds for playmates, but
all the creatures that live in a wood must
have been his comrades. There would have
been for little Fionn long hours of lonely
sunshine, when the world seemed just sun-
shine and a sky. There would have been
hours as long, when existence passed like a
shade among shadows, in the multitudinous

I THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

tappings of rain that dripped from leaf to
leaf in the wood, and slipped so to the
ground. He would have known little snaky
paths, narrow enough to be filled by his own
small feet, or a goat's; and he would have
wondered where they went, and have mar-
velled again to find that, wherever They
went, they came at last, through loops and
twists of the branchy wood, to his own
door. He may have thought of his own
door as the beginning and end of the world,
whence all things went, and whither all
things came.

Perhaps he did not see the lark for a long
time, but he would have heard him, far out
of sight in the endless sky, thrilling and
thrilling imtil the world seemed to have no
other soimd but that clear sweetness; and
what a world it was to make that sound!
Whistles and chirps; cooes and caws and
croaks, would have grown familiar to him.
And he could at last have told which
brother of the great brotherhood was mak-
ing the noise he heard at any moment. The
wind too: he would have listened to its
thousand voices as it moved in all seasons
and in all moods. Perhaps a horse would

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

stray into the thick screen about his home,
and would look as solemnly on Fionn as
Fionn did on it. Or, coming suddenly on
him, the horse might stare, all a-cock with
eyes and ears and nose, one long-drawn
facial extension, ere he turned and bounded
away with manes all over him and hoofs all
under him and tails all round him. A
solemn-nosed, stern-eyed cow would amble
and stamp in his wood to find a flyless
shadow; or a strayed sheep would poke its
gentle muzzle through leaves.

"A boy," he might think, as he stared on
a staring horse, "a boy cannot wag his tail
to keep the flies off," and that lack may
have saddened him. He may have thought
that a cow can snort and be dignified at the
one moment, and that timidity is comely in
a sheep. He would have scolded the jack-
daw, and tried to out-whistle the throstle,
and wondered why his pipe got tired when
the blackbird's didn't.

There would be flies to be watched, slen-
der atoms in yellow gauze that flew, and
filmy specks that flittered, and sturdy,
thick-ribbed brutes that pounced like cats
and bit like dogs and flew like lightning.

n THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

He may have mourned for the spider in
bad-luck who caught that fly.

There would be much to see and remem-
ber and compare, and there would be, al-
ways, his two guardians. The flies change
from second to second ; one cannot tell if this
bird is a visitor or an inhabitant, and a sheep
is just sister to a sheep; but the women were
as rooted as the house itself.

CHAPTER II

Were his nurses comely or harsh-looking?
Fionn would not know. This was the one
who picked him up when he fell, and that
was the one who patted the bruise. This
one said :

"Mind you do not tumble in the well!"

And that one :

"Mind the little knees among the nettles."

But he did tumble and record that the
only notable thing about a well is that it is
wet. And as for nettles, if they hit him he
hit back. He slashed into them with a stick
and brought them low.

There was nothing in wells or nettles, only
women dreaded them. One patronised

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

women and instructed them and comforted
them, for they were afraid about one.

They thought that one should not climb
a tree !

"Next week," they said at last, "you may
climb this one,'' and "next week'' lived at
the end of the world !

But the tree that was climbed was not
worth while when it had been climbed twice.
There was a bigger one near by. There were
trees that no one could climb, with vast
shadow on one side and vaster sunshine on
the other. It took a long time to walk round
them, and you could not see their tops.

It was pleasant to stand on a branch that
swayed and sprang, and it was good to stare
at an impenetrable roof of leaves and then
climb into it. How wonderful the loneliness
was up there ! When he looked down there
was an undulating floor of leaves, green and
green and greener to a very blackness of
greeniness; and when he looked up there
were leaves again, green and less green and
not green at all, up to a very snow and blind-
ness of greeniness; and above and below
and around there was sway and motion, the
whisper of leaf on leaf, and the eternal

n THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

silence to which one listened and at which
one tried to look.

When he was six years of age his mother,
beautiful, long-haired Muime, came to see
him. She came secretly, for she feared the
sons of Moma, and she had paced through
lonely places in many coimties before she
reached the hut in the wood, and the cot
where he lay with his fists shut and sleep
gripped in them.

He awakened to be sure. He would have
one ear that would catch an unusual voice,
one eye that would open, however sleepy the
other one was. She took him in her arms
and kissed him, and she sang a sleepy song
until the small boy slept again.

We may be sure that the eye that could
stay open stayed open that night as long as
it could, and that the one ear listened to the
sleepy song until the song got too low to be
heard, imtil it was too tender to be felt vi-
brating along those soft arms, until Fionn
was asleep again, with a new picture in his
little head and a new notion to ponder on.

The mother of himself ! His own mother !

But when he awakened she was gone.

She was going back secretly, in dread of

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

the sons of Morna, slipping through gloomy
woods, keeping away from habitations, get-
ting by desolate and lonely ways to her lord
in Kerry.

Perhaps it was he that was afraid of the
sons of Moma, and perhaps she loved him

CHAPTER III

The women druids, his guardians, belonged
to his father's people. Bovmall was Uail's
sister, and, consequently, Fionn's aunt.
Only such a blood-tie could have bound
them to the clann-Baiscne, for it is not easy,
having moved in the world of court and
camp, to go hide with a baby in a wood ; and
to live, as they must have lived, in terror.

What stories they would have told the
child of the sons of Morna. Of Morna
himself, the huge-shouldered, stem-eyed,
violent Connachtman; and of his sons —
young GoU Mor mac Morna in particular,
as huge-shouldered as his father, as fierce in
the onset, but merry-eyed when the other
was grim, and bubbling with a laughter that
made men forgive even his butcheries. Of
Conan Mael mac Moma his brother, graff as

Ill THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

a badger, bearded like a boar, bald as a crow,
and with a tongue that could manage an
insult where another man would not find
even a stammer. His boast was that when
he saw\ an open door he went into it, and
when he saw a closed door he went into it.
When he saw a peaceful man he insulted
him, and when he met a man who was not
peaceful he insulted him. There was Garra
Duv mac Morna, and savage Art Og, who
cared as little for their own skins as they did
for the next lean's, and Garra must have been
rough indeed to have earned in that clan the
name of the Rough mac Morna. There were
others : wild Connachtmen all, as untamable,
as unaccountable as their own wonderful
countryside.

Fioim would have heard much of them,
and it is likely that he practised on a nettle
at taking the head off Goll, and that he
hunted a sheep from cover in the implacable
manner he intended later on for Conan the
Swearer.

But it is of Uail mac Baiscne he would
have heard most.

With what a dilation of spirits the ladies
would have told tales of him, Fionn's fa-
ther. How their voices would have become

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

a chant as feat was added to feat, glory piled
on glory. The most famous of men and the
most beautiful; the hardest fighter; the
easiest giver; the kingly champion; the
chief of the Fianna na h-Eirinn. Tales of
how he had been waylaid and got free;
of how he had been generous and got
free; of how he had been angry and went
marchmg with the speed of an eagle and the
direct onfall of a storm ; while in front and at
the sides, angled from the prow of his terrific
advance, were fleeing multitudes who did
not dare to wait and scarce had time to run.
And of how at last, when the time came to
quell him, nothing less than the whole might
of Ireland was sufficient for that great
downfall.

We may be sure that on these adventures
Fionn was with his father, going step for
step with the long-striding hero, and
heartening him mightily.

CHAPTER IV

He was given good training by the women
in running and leaping and swimming.

IV THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

One of them would take a thorn switch
in her hand, and Fionn would take a
thorn switch in his hand, and each would
try to strike the other running round a
tree.

You had to go fast to keep away from the
switch behind, and a small boy feels a
switch. Fionn would nm his best to get
away from that prickly stinger, but how he
would run when it was his turn to deal the
strokes !

With reason too, for his nurses had sud-
denly grown implacable. They pursued him
with a savagery which he could not distin-
guish from hatred, and they swished him
well whenever they got the chance.

Fionn learned to run. After a while he
could buzz around a tree like a maddened
fly, and oh, the joy, when he felt himself
drawing from the switch and gaining from
behind on its bearer ! How he strained and
panted to catch on that pursuing person and
pursue her and get his own switch into
action.

He learned to jump by chasing hares in a
bumpy field. Up went the hare and up
went Fionn, and away with the two of them,

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

hopping and popping across the field. If
the hare turned while Fionn was after her it
was switch for Fionn; so that in a while it
did not matter to Fionn which way the hare
jumped, for he could jump that way too.
Longways, sideways, or baw-ways, Fionn
hopped where the hare hopped, and at last
he was the owner of a hop that any hare
would give an ear for.

He was taught to swim, and it may be
that his heart sank when he fronted the les-
son. The water was cold. It was deep.
One could see the bottom, leagues below,
millions of miles below. A small boy might
shiver as he stared into that wink and blink
and twink of brown pebbles and murder.
And these implacable women threw him
in!

Perhaps he would not go in at first. He
may have smiled at them, and coaxed, and
hung back. It was a leg and an arm gripped
then; a swing for Fionn, and out and away
with him ; plop and flop for him ; down into
chill deep death for him, and up with a
splutter; with a sob; with a grasp at every-
thing that caught nothing; with a wild
flurry; with a raging despair; with a bubble

IV THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

and snort as he was hauled again down, and
down, and down, and found as suddenly
that he had been hauled out.

Fionn learned to swim until he could pop
into the water like an otter and slide through
it like an eel.

He used to try to chase a fish the way he
chased hares in the bumpy field — but there
are terrible spurts in a fish. It may be that
a fish cannot hop, but he gets there in a flash,
and he isn't there in another. Up or down,
sideways or endways, it is all one to a fish.
He goes and is gone. He twists this way
and disappears the other way. He is over
you when he ought to be under you, and he
is biting your toe when you thought you
were biting his tail.

You cannot catch a fish by swimming, but
you can try, and Fionn tried. He got a
grudging commendation from the terrible
women when he was able to slip noiselessly
in the tide, swim under water to where a
wild duck was floating, and grip it by the
leg.

"Qu — ," said the duck, and he disap-
peared before he had time to get the "-ack"
out of him

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

So the time went, and Fionn grew long
and straight and tough like a sapling; limber
as a willow, and with the flirt and spring of
a young bird. One of the ladies may have
said, "He is shaping very well, my dear,"
and the other replied, as is the morose privi-
lege of an aunt, "He will never be as good
as his father," but their hearts must have
overflowed in the night, in the silence, in the
darkness, when they thought of the living
swiftness they had fashioned, and that dear,
fair head.

CHAPTER V

One day his guardians were agitated: they
held confabulations at which Fionn was not
permitted to assist. A man who passed by
in the morning had spoken to them. They
fed the man, and during his feeding Fionn
had been shooed from the door as if he were
a chicken. When the stranger took his road
the women went with him a short distance.
As they passed the man lifted a hand and
bent a knee to Fionn.

"My soul to you, young master," he said,
and as he said it, Fionn knew that he could

V THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

have the man's soul, or his boots, or his feet,
or anything that belonged to him.

When the women returned they were
mysterious and whispery. They chased
Fionn into the house, and when they got him
in they chased him out again. They chased
each other aroimd the house for another whis-
pcT. They calculated things by the shape of
clouds, by lengths of shadows, by the flight
of birds, by two flies racing on a flat stone,
by throwing bones over their left shoulders,
and by every kind of trick and game and
chance that you could put a mind to.

They told Fionn he must sleep in a tree
that night, and they put him under bonds
not to sing or whistle or cough or sneeze un-
til the morning.

Fionn did sneeze. He never sneezed so
much in his life. He sat up in his tree and
nearly sneezed himself out of it. Flies got
up his nose, two at a time, one up each nose,
and his head nearly fell off the way he
sneezed.

"You are doing that on purpose," said a
savage whisper from the foot of the tree.

But Fionn was not doing it on purpose.
He tucked himself into a fork the way he

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

had been taught, and he passed the craw-
liest, tickliest night he had ever known.
After a while he did not want to sneeze, he
wanted to scream; and in particular he
wanted to come down from the tree. But he
did not scream, nor did he leave the tree.
His word was passed, and he stayed in his
tree as silent as a mouse and as watchful,
until he fell out of it.

In the morning a band of travelling poets
were passing, and the women handed Fionn
over to them. This time they could not
prevent him overhearing.

"The sons of Moma!" they said.

And Fionn's heart might have swelled
with rage, but that it was already swollen
with adventure. And also the expected was
happening. Behind every hour of their day
and every moment of their lives lay the sons
of Moma. Fionn had run after them as
deer: he jumped after them as hares: he
dived after them as fish. They lived in the
house with him : they sat at the table and ate
his meat. One dreamed of them, and they
were expected in the morning as the sun is.
They knew only too well that the son of
Uail was living, and they knew that their

V THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

own sons would know no case while that son
lived; for they believed in those days that
like breeds like, and that the son of Uail
would be Uail with additions.

His guardians knew that their hiding-
place must at last be discovered, and that,
when it was found, the sons of Morna would
come. They had no doubt of that, and
every action of their lives was based on that
certainty. For no secret can remain secret.
Some broken soldier tramping home to his
people will find it out; a herd seeking his
strayed cattle or a band of travelling musi-
cians will get the wind of it. How many
j)eople will move through even the remotest
wood in a year ! The crows will tell a secret
if no one else does ; and under a bush, behind
a clump of bracken, what eyes may there not
be ! But if your secret is legged like a young
goat ! If it is tongued like a wolf ! One can
hide a baby, but you cannot hide a boy. He
will rove unless you tie him to a post, and he
will whistle then.

The sons of Moma came, but there were
only two grim women living in a lonely hut
to greet them. We may be sure they were
well greeted. One can imagine GolFs merry

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

stare taking in all that could be seen;
Conan's grim eye raking the women's faces
while his tongue raked them again; the
Rough mac Morna shouldering here and
there in the house and about it, with maybe
a hatchet in his hand, and Art Og coursing
farther afield and vowing that if the cub was
there he would find him.

CHAPTER VI

But Fionn was gone. He was away, bound
with his band of poets for the Galtees.

It is likely they were jimior poets come to
the end of a year's training, and returning to
their own province to see again the people at
home, and to be wondered at and exclaimed
at as they exhibited bits of the knowledge
which they had brought from the great
schools. They would know tags of rhyme
and tricks about learning which Fionn would
hear of; and now and again, as they rested
in a glade or by the brink of a river, they
might try their lessons over. They might
even refer to the ogham wands on which the
first words of their tasks and the opening
lines of poems were cut ; and it is likely that,

VI THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

being new to these things, they would talk
of them to a youngster, and, thinking that
his wits could be no better than their own,
they might have explained to him how
ogham was written. But it is far more
likely that his women guardians had already
started him at those lessons.

Still this band of young bards would have
been of infinite interest to Fionn, not on
account of what they had leamed, but be-
cause of what they knew. All the things
that he should have known as by nature:
the look, the movement, the feeling of
crowds; the shouldering and intercourse of
man with man; the clustering of houses and
how people bore themselves in and about
them ; the movement of armed men, and the
hcMne-coming look of wounds ; tales of births,
and marriages, and deaths ; the chase with its
multitudes of men and dogs; all the noise,
the dust, the excitement of mere living.
These, to Fionn, new come from leaves and
shadows and the dipple and dapple of a
wood, would have seemed wonderful; and
the tales they would have told of their mas-
ters, their looks, fads, severities, sillinesses,
would have been wonderful also.

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

That band should have chattered like a
rookery.

They must have been young, for one time
a Leinsterman came on them, a great robber
named Fiacuil mac Cona, and he killed the
poets. He chopped them up and chopped
them down. He did not leave one poeteen
of them all. He put them out of the world
and out of life, so that they stopped being,
and no one could tell where they went or
what had really happened to them; and it
is a wonder indeed that one can do that to
\j^-anything let alone a band. If they were not
youngsters, the bold Fiacuil could not have
managed them all. Or, perhaps, he too had
a band, although the record does not say so;
but kill them he did, and they died that
way.

Fionn saw that deed, and his blood may
have been cold enough as he watched the
great robber coursing the poets as a wild dog
rages in a flock. And when his turn came,
when they were all dead, and the grim, red-
handed man trod at him, Fionn may have
shivered, but he would have shown his teeth
and laid roundly on the monster with his
hands. Perhaps he did that, and perhaps
for that he was spared.

VII THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

**Who are you?" roared the staring black-
mouth with the red tongue squirming in it
like a frisky fish.

"The son of Uail, son of Baiscne," quoth
hardy Fionn.

And at that the robber ceased to be a rob-
ber, the murderer disappeared, the black-
rimmed chasm packed with red fish and
precipices changed to something else, and the
round eyes that had been popping out of
their sockets and trying to bite, changed
also. There remained a laughing and crying
and loving servant who wanted to tie him-
self into knots if that would please the son
of his great captain. Fionn went home on
the robber's shoulder, and the robber gave
great snorts and made great jumps and be-
haved like a first-rate horse. For this same
Fiacuil was the husband of Bovmall,
Fionn's aunt. He had taken to the wilds
when clann-Baiscne was broken, and he was
at war with a world that had dared to kill
his Chief.

CHAPTER VII

A NEW life for Fionn in the robber's den
that was hidden in a vast cold marsh.

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

A tricky place that would be, with sudden
exits and even suddener entrances, and with
damp, winding, spidery places to hoard
treasure in, or to hide oneself in.

If the robber was a solitary he would, for
lack of some one else, have talked greatly
to Fionn. He would have shown his
weapons and demonstrated how he used
them, and with what slash he chipped his
victim, and with what slice he chopped him.
He would have told why slash was enough
for this man and why that man should be
sliced. All men are masters when one is
yoimg, and Fionn would have found knowl-
edge here also. He would have seen Fia-
cuil's great spear that had thirty rivets of
Arabian gold in its socket, and that had to
be kept wrapped up and tied down so that it
would not kill people out of mere spiteful-
ness. It had come from Faery, out of the
Shi of Aillen mac Midna, and it would be
brought back again later on between the
same man's shoulder-blades.

What tales that man could tell a boy, and
what questions a boy could ask him. He
would have known a thousand tricks, and
because our instinct is to teach, and because

VII THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

no man can keep a trick from a boy, he
would show them to Fionn.

There was a marsh too; a whole new life
to be learned; a complicated, mysterious,
dank, slippery, reedy, treacherous life, but
with its own beauty and an allurement that
could grow on one, so that you could forget
the solid world and love only that which
quaked and gurgled.

In this place you may swim. By this sign
and this you will know if it is safe to do so,
said Fiacuil mac Cona; but in this place,
with this sign on it and that, you must not
venture a toe.

But where Fionn would venture his toes
his ears would follow.

There are coiling weeds down there, the
robber counselled him ; there are thin, tough,
snaky binders that will trip you and grip
you, that will pull you and will not let you
go again imtil you are drowned; until you
are swaying and swinging away below, with
outstretched arms, with outstretched legs,
with a face all stares and smiles and jockey-
iiigSi gripped in those leathery arms, until
there is no more to be gripped of you even
by them.

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"Watch these and this and that/' Fionn
would have been told, "and always swim
with a knife in your teeth."

He lived there until his guardians foimd
out where he was and came after him.
Fiacuil gave him up to them, and he was
brought home again to the woods of Slieve
Bloom, but he had gathered great knowledge
and new supplenesses.

The sons of Moma left him alone for a
long time. Having made their essay they
grew careless.

"Let him be,'' they said. "He will come
to us when the time comes."

But it is likely too that they had had their
own means of getting information about
him. How he shaped? what muscles he
had ? and did he spring clean from the mark
or had he to get off with a push ?

Fionn stayed with his guardians and
hunted for them. He could run a deer down
and haul it home by the reluctant skull.
"Come on, Goll," he would say to his stag,
or, lifting it over a tussock with a tough grip
on the snout, "Are you coming, bald Conan,
or shall I kick you in the neck?"

VII THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

The time must have been nigh when he
would think of taking the world itself by the
nose, to haul it over tussocks and drag it
into his pen; for he was of the breed in
whom mastery is bom, and who are good
masters.

But reports of his prowess were getting
abroad. Clann-Moma began to stretch it-
self uneasily, and, one day, his guardians
sent him on his travels.

"It is best for you to leave us now," they
said to the tall stripling, "for the sons of
Moma are watching again to kill you."

The woods at that may have seemed
haunted. A stone might sling at one from a
tree-top; but from which tree of a thousand
trees did it come? An arrow buzzing by
one's ear would slide into the ground and
quiver there silently, menacingly, hinting of
die brothers it had left in the quiver behind ;
to the right? to the left? how many broth-
ers? in how many quivers . . . ? Fionn
was a woodsman, but he had only two eyes
to look with, one set of feet to carry him in
cme sole direction. But when he was look-
ing to the front, what, or how many whats,
could be staring at him from the back? He

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

might face in this direction, away from, or
towards a smile on a hidden face and a finger
on a string. A lance might slide at him from
this bush or from the one yonder. ... In
the night he might have fought them; his
ears against theirs; his noiseless feet against
their lurking ones; his knowledge of the
wood against their legion: but during the
day he had no chance.

Fionn went to seek his fortune, to match
himself against all that might happen, and
to carve a name for himself that will live
while Time has an ear and knows an Irish-
man.

CHAPTER VIII

FiONN went away, and now he was alone.
But he was as fitted for loneliness as the
crane is that haunts the solitudes and bleak
wastes of the sea; for the man with a
thought has a comrade, and Fionn's mind
worked as featly as his body did. To be
alone was no trouble to him who, however
surrounded, was to be lonely his life long;
for this will be said of Fionn when all is
said, that all that came to him went from

VIII THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

him, and that happiness was never his com-
panion for more than a moment.

But he was not now looking for loneliness.
He was seeking the instruction of a crowd,
and therefore when he met a crowd he went
into it. His eyes were skilled to observe in
the moving dusk and dapple of green woods.
They were trained to pick out of shadows
birds that were themselves dun-coloured
shades, and to see among trees the animals
that are coloured like the bark of trees. The
hare crouching in the fronds was visible to
him, and the fish that swayed invisibly in
the sway and flicker of a green bank. He
would see all that was to be seen, and he
would see all that is passed by the eye that
is half blind from use and wont.

At Moy Life he came on lads swimming
in a pool ; and, as he looked on them sporting
in the flush tide, he thought that the tricks
they performed were not hard for him, and
that he could have shown them new ones.

Boys must know what another boy can do,
and they will match themselves against
everything. They did their best under these
observing eyes, and it was not long until he
was invited to compete with them and show

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

his mettle. Such an invitation is a chal-
lenge; it is almost, among boys, a declara-
tion of war. But Fionn was so far beyond
them in swimming that even the word mas-
ter did not apply to that superiority.

While he was swimming one remarked:
"He is fair and well shaped," and thereafter
he was called "Fionn" or the Fair One. His
name came from boys, and will, perhaps, be
preserved by them.

He stayed with these lads for some time,
and it may be that they idolised him at first,
for it is the way with boys to be astounded
and enraptured by feats ; but in the end, and
that was inevitable, they grew jealous of the
stranger. Those who had been the cham-
pions before he came would marshal each
other, and, by social pressure, would muster
all the others against him ; so that in the end
not a friendly eye was turned on Fionn in
that assembly. For not only did he beat
them at swimming, he beat their best at run-
ning and jumping, and when the sport de-
generated into violence, as it was bound to,
the roughness of Fionn would be ten times
as rough as the roughness of the roughest
rough they could put forward. Bravery is

VIII THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

pride when one is young, and Fionn was
proud.

There must have been anger in his mind
as he went away leaving that lake behind
him, and those snarling and scowling boys,
but there would have been disappointment
also, for his desire at this time should have
been towards friendliness.

He went thence to Lock Lein and took
service with the King of Finntraigh. That
kingdom may have been thus called from
Fionn himself and would have been known
by another name when he arrived there.

He hunted for the King of Finntraigh,
and it soon grew evident that there was no
hunter in his service to equal Fionn. More,
there was no hunter of them all who even
distantly approached him in excellence. The
others ran after deer, using the speed of their
legs, the noses of their dogs, and a thousand
well-worn tricks to bring them within reach,
and, often enough, the animal escaped them.
But the deer that Fionn got the track of did
not get away, and it seemed even that the
animals sought him, so many did he catch.

The king marvelled at the stories that
were told of this new hunter, but as kings are

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

greater than other people so they are more
curious; and, being on the plane of excel-
lence, they must see all that is excellently
told of.

The king wished to see him, and Fionn
must have wondered what the king thought
as that gracious lord looked on him. What-
ever was thought, what the king said was as
direct in utterance as it was in observation.

"If Uail the son of Baiscne has a son,"
said the king, "you would surely be that
son."

We are not told if the King of Finntraigh
said anything more, but we know that Fionn
left his service soon afterwards.

He went southwards and was next in the
employment of the King of Kerry, the same
lord who had married his own mother. In
that service he came to such consideration
that we hear of him as playing a match of
chess with the king, and by this game we
know that he was still a boy in his mind
however mightily his limbs were spreading.
Able as he was in sports and himtings, he
was yet too young to be politic, but he re-
mained impolitic to the end of his days, for
whatever he was able to do he would do,
no matter who was offended thereat; and

vra THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

whatever he was not able to do he would
do also.

That was Fionn.

Once, as they rested on a chase, a debate
arose among the Fianna-Finn as to what was
the finest music in the world.

"Tell us that," said Fionn, turning to
Oism.*

"The cuckoo calling from the tree that is
highest in the hedge," cried his merry son.

"A good soimd," said Fionn. "And you,
Oscar," he asked, "what is to your mind the
finest of music?"

"The top of music is the ring of a spear on
a shield," cried the stout lad.

"It is a good sound," said Fionn.

And the other champions told their de-
light : the belling of a stag across water, the
baying of a timeful pack heard in the dis-
tance, the song of a lark, the laugh of a glee-
ful girl, or the whisper of a moved one.

**They are good sounds all," said Fionn.

"Tell us, chief," one ventured, "what you
think?"

"The music of what happens," said great
Fionn, "that is the finest music in the
world."

^Pronounced Usheen.

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

He loved "what happened," and would
not evade it by the swerve of a hair; so on
this occasion what was occurring he would
have occur, although a king was his rival
and his master. It may be that his mother
was watching the match and that he could
not but exhibit his skill before her. He
committed the enormity of winning seven
games in succession from the king him-
self ! ! !

It is seldom indeed that a subject can beat
a king at chess, and this monarch was prop-
erly amazed.

"Who are you at all?" he cried, starting
back from the chessboard and staring on
Fionn.

"I am the son of a coimtryman of the
Luigne of Tara," said Fionn.

He may have blushed as he said it, for the
king, possibly for the first time, was really
looking at him, and was looking back
through twenty years of time as he did so.
The observation of a king is faultless — it is
proved a thousand times over in the tales,
and this king's equipment was as royal as
the next.

"You arc no such son," said the indignant

IX THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

monarch, "but you are the son that Muime
my wife bore to Uail mac Baiscne."

And at that Fionn had no more to say;
but his eyes may have flown to his mother
and stayed there.

"You cannot remain here," his stepfather
continued. "I do not want you killed under
my protection," he explained, or com-
plained.

Perhaps it was on Fionn' s account he
dreaded the sons of Moma, but no one knows
what Fionn thought of him for he never
thereafter spoke of his stepfather. As for
Muime she must have loved her lord ; or she
may have been terrified in truth of the sons
of Moma and for Fionn; but it is so also,
that if a woman loves her second husband
she can dislike all that reminds her of the
first one.

Fionn went on his travels again.

CHAPTER IX

All desires save one are fleeting, but that
one lasts for ever. Fionn, with all desires,
had the lasting one, for he would go any-
where and forsake anything for wisdom ; and

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

it was in search of this that he went to the
place where Finegas lived on a bank of the
Boyne Water. But for dread of the clann-
Moma he did not go as Fionn. He called
himself Deimne on that journey.

We get wise by asking questions, and even
if these are not answered we get wise, for a
well-packed question carries its answer on
its back as a snail carries its shell. Fionn
asked every question he could think of, and
his master, who was a poet, and so an
honourable man, answered them all, not to
the limit of his patience, for it was limitless,
but to the limit of his ability.

**Why do you live on the bank of a
river?" was one of these questions.

"Because a poem is a revelation, and it is
by the brink of nmning water that poetry is
revealed to the mind."

"How long have you been here?" was
the next query.

"Seven years," the poet answered.

"It is a long time," said wondering Fionn.

"I would wait twice as long for a poem,"
said the inveterate bard.

"Have you caught good poems?" Fionn
asked him.

IX THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

"The poems I am fit for," said the mild
master. "No person can get more than that,
foj a man's readiness is his limit."

**Would you have got as good poems by
the Shannon or the Suir or by sweet Ana
Life?"

"They are good rivers," was the answer.
"They all belong to good gods."

"But why did you choose this river out
of all the rivers?"

Finegas beamed on his pupil :

"I would tell you anything," said he,
"and I will tell you that."

Fionn sat at the kindly man's feet, his
hands absent among tall grasses, and listen-
ing with all his ears.

"A prophecy was made to me," Finegas
began. "A man of knowledge foretold that
I should catch the Salmon of Knowledge in
the Boyne Water."

"And then?" said Fionn eagerly.

"Then I would have All Knowledge."

"And after that?" the boy insisted.

"What should there be after that?" the
poet retorted.

"I mean, what would you do with All
Knowledge?"

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"A weighty question," said Finegas smil-
ingly. "I could answer it if I had All
Knowledge, but not until then. What
would you do, my dear?"

"I would make a poem," Fionn cried.

"I think too," said the poet, "that that is
what would be done."

In return for instraction Fionn had taken
over the service of his master's hut, and as
he went about the household duties, drawing
the water, lighting the fire, and carrying
rushes for the floor and the beds, he thought
over all the poet had taught him, and his
mind dwelt on the rules of metre, the cun-
ningness of words, and the need for a clean,
brave mind. But in his thousand thoughts
he yet remembered the Salmon of Knowl-
edge as eagerly as his master did. He al-
ready venerated Finegas for his great learn-
ing, his poetic skill, for an himdred reasons;
but, looking on him as the ordained eater
of the Salmon of Knowledge, he venerated
him to the edge of measure. Indeed, he
loved as well as venerated this master be-
cause of his unfailing kindness, his patience,
his readiness to teach, and his skill in
teaching.

IX THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

"I have learned much from you, dear
master," said Fiomi gratefully.

"All that I have is yours if you can take
it," the poet answered, "for you are en-
titled to all that you can take, but to no more
than that. Take, so, with both hands."

"You may catch the salmon while I am
with you," the hopeful boy mused. "Would
not that be a great happening!" and he
stared in ecstasy across the grass at those
visions which a boy's mind knows.

"Let us pray for that," said Finegas fer-
vently.

Here is a question," Fionn continued.
How does this salmon get wisdom into his
flesh?"

"There is a hazel bush overhanging a
secret pool in a secret place. The Nuts of
Knowledge drop from the Sacred Bush
into the pool, and as they float, a salmon
takes them in his mouth and eats them."

"It would be almost as easy," the boy
submitted, "if one were to set on the track
of the Sacred Hazel and eat the nuts straight
from the bush."

"That would not be very easy," said the
poet, "and yet it is not as easy as that, for

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

the bush can only be found by its own
knowledge, and that knowledge can only be
got by eating the nuts, and the nuts can be
got only by eating the salmon."

"We must wait for the salmon," said
Fionn in a rage of resignation.

CHAPTER X

Life continued for him in a roimd of time-
less time, wherein days and nights were un-
eventful and were yet filled with interest.
As the day packed its load of strength into
his frame, so it added its store of knowledge
to his mind, and each night sealed the twain,
for it is in the night that we make secure
what we have gathered in the day.

If he had told of these days he would
have told of a succession of meals and sleeps,
and of an endless conversation, from which
his mind would now and again slip away to
a solitude of its own, where, in large hazy
atmospheres, it swung and drifted and re-
posed. Then he would be back again, and it
was a pleasure for him to catch up on the
thought that was forward and re-create for

X THE BOYHOOD Ot FIONN

it all the matter he had missed. But he
could not often make these sleepy sallies; his
master was too experienced a teacher to
allow any such bright-faced, eager-eyed ab-
stractions, and as the druid women had
switched his legs around a tree, so Finegas
chased his mind, demanding sense in his
questions and understanding in his replies.

To ask questions can become the laziest
and wobbliest occupation of a mind, but
when you must yourself answer the problem
that you have posed, you will meditate your
question with care and frame it with pre-
cision. Fionn's mind learned to jump in a
bumpier field than that in which he had
chased hares. And when he had asked his
question, and given his own answer to it,
Finegas would take the matter up and make
clear to him where the query was badly
formed or at what point the answer had
begun to go astray, so that Fionn came to
understand by what successions a good ques-
tion grows at last to a good answer.

One day, not long after the conversation
told of, Finegas came to the place where
Fionn was. The poet had a shallow osier
basket on his arm, and on his face there was

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

a look that was at once triumphant and
gloomy. He was excited certainly, but he
was sad also, and as he stood gazing on
Fionn his eyes were so kind that the boy was
touched, and they were yet so melancholy
that it almost made Fionn weep.

"What is it, my master?" said the
alarmed boy.

The poet placed his osier basket on the
grass.

"Look in the basket, dear son," he said.

Fionn looked.

"There is a salmon in the basket."

"It is The Salmon," said Finegas with a
great sigh.

Fionn leaped for delight.

"I am glad for you, master," he .cried.
"Indeed I am glad for you."

"And I am glad, my dear soul," the mas-
ter rejoined.

But, having said it, he bent his brow to his
hand and for a long time he was silent and
gathered into himself.

"What should be done now?" Fionn de-
manded, as he stared on the beautiful fish.

Finegas rose from where he sat by the
osier basket.

X THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

"I will be back in a short time," he said
heavily. "While I am away you may roast
the salmon, so that it will be ready against
my return."

"I will roast it indeed," said Fionn.

The poet gazed long and earnestly on him.

"You will not eat any of my salmon while
I am away?" he asked.

"I will not eat the littlest piece," said
Fionn.

"I am sure you will not," the other mur-
mured, as he turned and walked slowly
across the grass and behind the sheltering
bushes on the ridge.

Fionn cooked the salmon. It was beauti-
ful and tempting and savoury as it smoked
on a wooden platter among cool green leaves ;
and it looked all these to Finegas when he
came from behind the fringing bushes and
sat in the grass outside his door. He gazed
on the fish with more than his eyes. He
looked on it with his heart, with his soul in
his eyes, and when he turned to look on
Fionn the boy did not know whether the love
that was in his eyes was for the fish or for
himself. Yet he did know that a great mo-
ment had arrived for the poet.

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

"So," said Finegas, "you did not eat it
on me after all ?"

"Did I not promise?" Fionn replied.

"And yet," his master continued, "I went
away so that you might eat the fish if you
felt you had to."

"Why should I want another man's fish?"
said proud Fionn.

"Because yoimg people have strong de-
sires. I thought you might have tasted
it, and then you would have eaten it on
me.

"I did taste it by chance," Fionn laughed,
"for while the fish was roasting a great
blister rose on its skin. I did not like the
look of that blister, and I pressed it down
with my thumb. That burned my thumb,
so I popped it in my mouth to heal the smart.
If your salmon tastes as nice as my thumb
did," he laughed, "it will taste very nice."

"What did you say your name was, dear
heart," the poet asked.

"I said my name was Deimne."

"Your name is not Deimne," said the mild
man, "your name is Fionn."

"That is true," the boy answered, '1)ut I
do not know how you know it."

"Even if I have not eaten the Salmon of

X THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

Knowledge I have some small science of my

own.

"It is very clever to know things as you
know them," Fionn replied wonderingly.
"What more do you know of me, dear
master?"

"I know that I did not tell you the truth,"
said the heavy-hearted man.

"What did you tell me instead of it?"

"I told you a lie."

"It is not a good thing to do," Fionn ad-
mitted. "What sort of a lie was the lie,
master?"

"I told you that the Salmon of Knowl-
edge was to be caught by me, according to
the prophecy."

"Yes."

"That was trae indeed, and I have caught
the fish. But I did not tell you that the
salmon was not to be eaten by me, although
that also was in the prophecy, and that
omission was the lie."

"It is not a great lie," said Fionn sooth-
ingly.

"It must not become a greater one," the
poet replied sternly.

"Who was the fish given to?" his com-
panion wondered.

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"It was given to you," Finegas answered.
"It was given to Fionn, the son of Uail, the
son of Baiscne, and it will be given to him.'*

"You shall have a half of the fish," cried
Fionn.

"I will not eat a piece of its skin that is as
small as the point of its smallest bone," said
the resolute and trembling bard. "Let you
now eat up the fish, and I shall watch you
and give praise to the gods of the Under-
world and of the Elements."

Fionn then ate the Salmon of Knowledge,
and when it had disappeared a great jollity
and tranquillity and exuberance returned to
the poet.

"Ah," said he, "I had a great combat with
that fish."

"Did it fight for its life?" Fionn inquired.

"It did, but that was not the fight I
meant."

"You shall eat a Salmon of Knowledge
too," Fionn assured him.

"You have eaten one," cried the blithe
poet, "and if you make such a promise it
will be because you know."

"I promise it and know it," said Fionn;
"you shall eat a Salmon of Knowledge yet."

n THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

CHAPTER XI

He had received all that he could get from
Finegas. His education was finished and
the time had come to test it, and to try all
else that he had of mind and body. He
bade farewell to the gentle poet, and set out
for Tara of the Kings.

It was Samhain-tide, and the feast of
Tara was being held, at which all that was
wise or skilful or well-born in Ireland were
gathered together.

This is how Tara was when Tara was.
There was the High King's palace with its
fortification; without it was another forti-
fication enclosing the four minor palaces,
each of which was maintained by one of the
four provincial kings; without that again
was the great banqueting hall, and around
it and enclosing all of the sacred hill in its
gigantic bound ran the main outer ramparts
of Tara. From it, the centre of Ireland,
four great roads went, north, south, east, and
west, and along these roads, from the top
and the bottom and the two sides of Ireland,
there moved for weeks before Samhain an
endless stream of passengers.

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

Here a gay band went carrying rich treas-
ure to decorate the pavilion of a Miinster
lord. On another road a vat of seasoned
yew, monstrous as a house on wheels and
drawn by an hundred laborious oxen, came
bumping and joggling the ale that thirsty
Connaught princes would drink. On a road
again the learned men of Leinster, each with
an idea in his head that would discomfit a
northern ollav and make a southern one gape
and fidget, would be marching solemnly,
each by a horse that was piled high on the
back and widely at the sides with clean-
peeled willow or oaken wands, that were
carved from the top to the bottom with the
ogham signs; the first lines of poems (for it
was an offence against wisdom to commit
more than initial lines to writing), the
names and dates of kings, the procession of
laws of Tara and of the sub-kingdoms, the
names of places and their meanings. On the
brown stallion ambling peacefully yonder
there might go the warring of the gods for
two or ten thousand years; this mare with
the dainty pace and the vicious eye might be
sidling under a load of oaken odes in honour
of his owner's family, with a few bundles of

XI THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

tales of wonder added in case they might be
useful; and perhaps the restive piebald was
backing the history of Ireland into a ditch.

On such a journey all people spoke to-
gether, for all were friends, and no person
regarded the weapon in another man's hand
other than as an implement to poke a reluc-
tant cow with, or to pacify with loud wal-
lops some hoof-proud colt.

Into this teem and profusion of jolly
humanity Fionn, slipped, and if his mood
had been as bellicose as a wounded boar he
would yet have found no man to quarrel
with, and if his eye had been as sharp as a
jealous husband's he would have foimd no
eye to meet it with calculation or menace or
fear; for the Peace of Ireland was in being,
and for six weeks man was neighbour to
man, and the nation was the guest of the
High King.

Fionn went in with the notables.

His arrival had been timed for the open-
ing day and the great feast of welcome. He
may have marvelled, looking on the bright
city, with its pillars of gleaming bronze and
the roofs that were painted in many colours,
so that each house seemed to be covered by

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

the spreading wings of some gigantic and
gorgeous bird. And the palaces themselves,
. mellow with red oak, polished within and
without by the wear and the care of a thou-
sand years, and carved with the patient skill
of unending generations of the most famous
artists of the most artistic country of the
western world, would have given him much
to marvel at also. It must have seemed like
a city of dream, a city to catch the heart,
when, coming over the great plain, Fionn
saw Tara of the Kings held on its hill as in
a hand to gather all the gold of the falling
sun, and to restore a brightness as mellow
and tender as that imiversal largess.

In the great banqueting hall everything
was in order for the feast. The nobles of
Ireland with their winsome consorts, the
learned and artistic professions represented
by the pick of their time were in place.
The Ard-Ri, Conn of the Hundred Battles,
had taken his place on the raised dais which
commanded the whole of that vast hall. At
his right hand his son Art, to be afterwards
as famous as his famous father, took his seat,
and on his left Goll Mor mac Moma, chief
of the Fianna of Ireland, had the seat of
honour. As the High King took his place

n THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

he could see every person who was noted in
the land for any reason. He would know
every one who was present, for the fame of
all men is sealed at Tara, and behind his
chair a herald stood to tell anything the king
might not know or had forgotten.

Conn gave the signal and his guests seated
themselves. The time had come for the
squires to take their stations behind their
masters and mistresses. But, for the mo-
ment, the great room was seated, and the
doors were held to allow a moment of respect
to pass before the servers and squires
came in.

Looking over his guests. Conn observed
that a young man was yet standing.

"There is a gentleman," he murmured,
"for whom no seat has been found."

We may be sure that the Master of the
Banquet blushed at that.

"And," the king continued, "I do not seem
to know the young man."

Nor did his herald, nor did the unfortu-
nate Master, nor did anybody; for the eyes
of all were now turned where the king's
went.

"Give me my horn," said the gracious
monarch.

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

The horn of state was put to his hand.

"Young gentleman/* he called to the
stranger, "I wish to drink to your health and
to welcome you to Tara."

The young man came forward then,
greater-shouldered than any mighty man of
that gathering, longer and cleaner limbed,
with his fair curls dancing about his beard-
less face. The king put the great horn into
his hand.

"Tell me your name," he commanded
gently.

"I am Fionn, the son of Uail, the son of
Baiscne," said the youth.

And at that saying a touch as of lightning
went through the gathering so that each per-
son quivered, and the son of the great, mur-
dered captain looked by the king's shoulder
into the twinkling eye of Goll. But no word
was uttered, no movement made except
the movement and the utterance of the
Ard-Ri.

"You are the son of a friend," said the
great-hearted monarch. "You shall have
the seat of a friend."

He placed Fionn at the right hand of his
own son Art.

XII THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

CHAPTER XII

It is to be known that on the night of the
Feast of Samhain the doors separating this
world and the next one are opened, and the
inhabitants of either world can leave their
respective spheres and appear in the world
of the other beings.

Now there was a grandson to the Dagda
Mor, the Lord of the Underworld, and he
was named Aillen mac Midna, out of Shi
Finnachy, and this Aillen bore an implacable
enmity to Tara and the Ard-Ri.

As well as being monarch of Ireland her
High King was chief of the people learned
in magic, and it is possible that at some time
Conn had adventured into Tir na n-Og, the
Land of the Yoimg, and had done some deed
or misdeed in Aillen's lordship or in his
family. It must have been an ill deed in
truth, for it was in a very rage of revenge
that Aillen came yearly at die permitted
time to ravage Tara.

Nine times he had come on this mission
of revenge, but it is not to be supposed that
he could actually destroy the holy city: the
Ard-Rf and magicians could prevent that,

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

but he could yet do a damage so considerable
that it was worth Conn's while to take
special extra precautions against him, in-
cluding the precaution of chance.

Therefore, when the feast was over and
the banquet had commenced, the Hundred
Fighter stood from his throne and looked
over his assembled people.

The Chain of Silence was shaken by the
attendant whose duty and honour was the
Silver Chain, and at that delicate chime the
hall went silent, and a general wonder en-
sued as to what matter the High King would
submit to his people.

"Friends and heroes," said Conn, "Aillen,
the son of Midna, will come to-night from
Slieve Fuaid with occult, terrible fire against
our city. Is there among you one who loves
Tara and the king, and who will imdertake
our defence against that being?"

He spoke in silence, and when he had
finished he listened to the same silence, but
it was now deep, ominous, agonised. Each
man glanced uneasily on his neighbour and
then stared at his wine-cup or his fingers.
The hearts of yoimg men went hot for a
gallant moment and were chilled in the suc-

HI THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

ceeding one, for they had all heard of Allien
out of Shi Fmnachy in the north. The lesseTl
gentlemen looked under their brows at the
greater champions, and these peered fur-
tively at the greatest of all. Art Og
mac Moma of the Hard Strokes fell to
biting his fingers, Conan the Swearer and
Garra mac Moma grumbled irritably to each
other and at their neighbours, even Caelte,
the son of Ronan, looked down into his own
lap, and Goll Mor sipped at his wine wi^^
out any twinkle in his eye. A horrid em-
barrassment came into the great hall, and as
the High King stood in that palpitating
silence his noble face changed from kindly
to grave and from that to a terrible stern-
ness. In another moment, to the undying
shame of every person present, he would
have been compelled to lift his own chal-
lenge and declare himself the champion of
Tara for that night, but the shame that was
on the faces of his people would remain in
the heart of their king. Goll's merry mind
would help him to forget, but even his heart
would be wrung by a memory that he would
not dare to face. It was at that terrible mo-
ment that Fionn stood up.

IMSH FAIRY TALES CH.

"What," said he, "will be given to the
man who undertakes this defence ?"

"All that can be rightly asked will be
royally bestowed," was the king's answer.

"Who are the sureties?" said Fionn.

"The kings of Ireland, and Red Cith with
his magicians."

"I will imdertake the defence," said
Fionn.

And on that, the kings and magicians who
were present bound themselves to the fulfil-
ment of the bargain.

Fionn marched from the banqueting hall,
and as he went, all who were present of
nobles and retainers and servants acclaimed
him and wished him luck. But in their
hearts they were bidding him good-bye, for
all were assured that the tad was marching
to a death so unescapable that he might
already be counted as a dead man.

It is likely that Fionn looked for help to
the people of the Shi themselves, for,
through his mother, he belonged to the tribes
of Dana, although, on the father's side, his
blood was well compounded with mortal
clay. It may be, too, that he knew how
events would turn, for he had eaten the

XII THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

Salmon of Knowledge. Yet it is not re-
corded that on this occasion he invoked any
magical art as he did on other adventures.

Fionn's way of discovering whatever was
happening and hidden was always the same
and is many times referred to. A shallow,
oblong dish of pure, pale gold was brought
to him. This dish was filled with clear
water. Then Fionn would bend his head
and stare into the water, and as he stared he
would place his thumb in his mouth under
his "Tooth of Knowledge," his "wisdom
tooth."

Knowledge, may it be said, is higher than
magic and is more to be sought. It is quite
possible to see what is happening and yet
not know what is forward, for while seeing
is believing it does not follow that either
seeing or believing is knowing. Many a
person can see a thing and believe a thing
and know just as little about it as the person
who does neither. But Fionn would see and
know, or he would imderstand a decent ratio
of his visions. That he was versed in magic
is true, for he was ever known as the Knowl-
edgeable man, and later he had two magi-
cians in his household named Dirim and

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

mac-Reith to do the rough work of knowl-
edge for their busy master.

It was not from the Shi, however, that
assistance came to Fionn.

CHAPTER XIII

He marched through the successive fortifica-
tions imtil he came to the outer, great wall,
the boimdary of the city, and when he had
passed this he was on the wide plain of
Tara.

Other than himself no person was abroad,
for on the night of the Feast of Samhain
none but a madman would quit the shelter of
a house even if it were on fire ; for whatever
disasters might be within a house would be
as nothing to the calamities without it.

The noise of the banquet was not now
audible to Fionn — it is possible, however,
that there was a shamefaced silence in the
great hall — and the lights of the city were
hidden by the successive great ramparts.
The sky was over him ; the earth imder him ;
and than these there was nothing, or there
was but the darkness and the wind.

XIII THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

But darkness was not a thing to terrify
him, bred in the nightness of a wood and the
very fosterling of gloom ; nor could the wind
af&ict his ear or his heart. There was no
note in its orchestra that he had not brooded
on and become, which becoming is magic.
The long-drawn moan of it; the thrilling
whisper and hush; the shrill, sweet whistle,
so thin it can scarcely be heard, and is taken
more by the nerves than by the ear; the
screech, sudden as a devil's yell and loud as
ten thunders ; the cry as of one who flies with
backward look to the shelter of leaves and
darkness ; and the sob as of one stricken with
an age-long misery, only at times remem-
bered, but remembered then with what a
pang! His ear knew by what successions
they arrived, and by what stages they grew
and diminished. Listening in the dark to
the bundle of noises which make a noise he
could disentangle them and assign a place
and a reason to each gradation of sound that
formed the chorus : there was the patter of a
rabbit, and there the scurrying of a hare;
a bush rustled yonder, but that brief rustle
was a bird; that pressure was a wolf, and
this hesitation a fox; the scraping yonder

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

was but a rough leaf against bark, and the
scratchmg beyond it was a ferret's claw.

Fear cannot be where knowledge is, and
Fionn was not fearful.

His mind, quietly busy on all sides, picked
up one sornid and dwelt on it. "A man,**
said Fionn, and he listened in that direction,
back towards the city.

A man it was, almost as skilled in dark-
ness as Fionn himself.

"This is no enemy," Fionn thought; *liis
walking is open."

"Who comes?" he called.

"A friend," said the newcomer.

"Give a friend's name," said Fionn.

'Tiacuil mac Cona," was the answer.

"Ah, my pulse and heart!" cried Fionn,
and he strode a few paces to meet the great
robber who had fostered him among the
marshes.

"So you are not afraid," he said jojrfully.
. "I am afraid in good truth," Fiacuil whis-
pered, "and the minute my business with you
is finished I will trot back as quick as
legs will carry me. May the gods protect
my going as they protected my ccMning," said
the robber piously.

xin THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

"Amen," said Fionn, "and now, tell me
what you have come for?"

"Have you any plan against this lord of
the Shi?" Fiacuil whispered.

"I will attack him," said Fionn.

"That is not a plan," the other groaned;
"we do not plan to deliver an attack but to
win a victory."

"Is this a very terrible person?" Fionn
asked.

"Terrible indeed. No one can get near
him or away from him. He comes out of
the Shi playing sweet, low music on a tim-
pan and a pipe, and all who hear this music
fall asleep."

"I will not fall asleep," said Fionn.

"You will indeed, for everybody does."

"What happens then?" Fionn asked.

"When all are asleep Aillen mac Midna
blows a dart of fire out of his mouth, and
everything that is touched by that fire is
destroyed, and he can blow his fire to
an incredible distance and to any direc-
tion."

"You are very brave to come to help me,"
Fionn murmured, "especially when you are
not able to help me at all."

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"I can help," Fiacuil replied, "but I must
be paid."

"What payment?"

"A third of all you earn and a seat at your
council."

"I grant that," said Fionn; "and now, tell
me your plan."

"You remember my spear with the thirty
rivets of Arabian gold in its socket?"

"The one," Fionn queried, "that had its
head wrapped in a blanket and was stuck in
a bucket of water and was chained to a wall
as well — the venomous Birgha?"

"That one," Fiacuil replied.

"It is Aillen mac Midna's own spear," he
continued, "and it was taken out of his Shi
by your father."

"Well?" said Fionn, wondering neverthe-
less where Fiacuil got the spear, but too
generous to ask.

"When you hear the great man of the Shi
coming, take the wrappings off the head of
the spear and bend your face over it; the
heat of the spear, the stench of it, all its
pernicious and acrid qualities will prevent
you from going to sleep."

"Are you sure of that?" said Fionn.

XIII THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

"You couldn't go to sleep close to that
stench; nobody could," Fiacuil replied
decidedly.

He continued: "Aillen mac Midna will be
oflF his guard when he stops playing and be-
gins to blow his fire ; he will think everybody
is asleep; then you can deliver the attack
you are speaking of, and all good luck go
with it."

"I will give him back his spear," said
Fionn.

"Here it is," said Fiacuil, taking the
Birgha from under his cloak. "But be as
careful of it, my pulse, be as frightened of it
as you are of the man of Dana."

"I will be frightened of nothing," said
Fionn, "and the only person I will be sorry
for is that Aillen mac Midna, who is going
to get his own spear back."

"I will go away now," his companion
whispered, "for it is growing darker where
you would have thought there was no more
room for darkness, and there is an eerie
feeling abroad which I do not like. That man
from the Shi may come any minute, and if I
catch one soimd of his music I am done
for."

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

The robber went away and again Fionn
was alone.

CHAPTER XIV

He listened to the retreating footsteps until
they could be heard no more, and the one
sound that came to his tense ears was the
beating of his own heart.

Even the wind had ceased, and there
seemed to be nothing in the world but the
darkness and himself. In that gigantic
blackness, in that unseen quietude and
vacancy, the mind could cease to be personal
to itself. It could be overwhelmed and
merged in space, so that consciousness would
be transferred or dissipated, and one might
sleep standing; for the mind fears loneliness
more than all else, and will escape to the
moon rather than be driven inwards on its
own being.

But Fionn was not lonely, and he was not
afraid when the son of Midna came.

A long stretch of the silent night had gone
by, minute following minute in a slow se-
quence, wherein as there was no change there
was no time ; wherein there was no past and

THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

no future, but a stupefying, endless present
vrhich is almost the annihilation of con-
sciousness. A change came then, for the
clouds had also been moving and the moon
at last was sensed behind them — ^not as a
radiance, but as a percolation of light, a
gleam that was strained through matter
after matter and was less than the very
wraith or remembrance of itself; a thing seen
so narrowly, so sparsely, that the eye could
doubt if it was or was not seeing, and might
conceive that its own memory was re-creat-
ing that which was still absent.

But Fionn's eye was the eye of a wild
creature that spies on darkness and moves
there wittingly. He saw, then, not a thing
but a movement ; something that was darker
than the darkness it loomed on; not a being
but a presence, an, as it were, impending
pressure. And in a little he heard the de-
liberate pace of that great being.

Fionn bent to his spear and unloosed its
coverings.

Then from the darkness there came an-
other sound; a low, sweet soimd; thrillingly
joyous, thrillingly low; so low the ear could
scarcely note it, so sweet the ear wished to

IRISH FAIRY TALES

CH.

catch nothing else and would strive to hear
' it rather than all sounds that may be heard
by man: the music of another world! the
unearthly, dear melody of the Shi! So
sweet it was that the sense strained to it, and
having reached must follow drowsily in its
wake, and would merge in it, and could not
return again to its own place imtil that
strange harmony was finished and the ear
restored to freedom.

But Fionn had taken the covering from his
spear, and with his brow pressed close to it
he kept his mind and all his senses engaged
on that sizzling, murderous point.

The music ceased and Aillen hissed a
fierce blue flame from his mouth, and it was
as though he hissed lightning.

Here it would seem that Fionn used
magic, for spreading out his fringed mantle
he caught the flame. Rather he stopped it,
for it slid from the mantle and sped down
into the earth to the depth of twenty-six
spans; from which that slope is still called
the Glen of the Mantle, and the rise on
which Aillen stood is known as the Ard of
Fire.

One can imagine the surprise of Aillen mac

XIV THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

Midna, seeing his fire caught and quenched
by an invisible hand. And one can imagine
that at this check he might be frightened,
for who would be more terrified than a ma-
gician who sees his magic fail, and who,
knowing of power, will guess at powers of
which he has no conception and may well
dread ?

Everything had been done by him as it
should be done. His pipe had been played
and his timpan, all who heard that music
should be asleep, and yet his fire was caught
in full course and was quenched.

Allien, with all the terrific strength of
which he was master, blew again, and the
great jet of blue flame came roaring and
whistling from him and was caught and
disappeared. ^

Panic swirled into the man from Faery;
he turned from that terrible spot and fled,
not knowing what might be behind, but
dreading it as he had never before dreaded
anything, and the unknown pursued him;
that terrible defence became offence and
hung to his heel as a wolf pads by the flank
of a bull.

And Allien was not in his own world!

nUSH FAIRY TALES ch.

He was in the world of men, where move-
ment is not easy and the very air a burden.
In his own sphere, in his own element, he
might have outnm Fionn, but this was
Fionn*s world, Fionn's element, and the fly-'
ing god was not gross enough to outstrip him.
Yet what a race he gave, for it was but at the
entrance to his own Shi that the pursuer got
close enough. Fionn put a finger into the
thong of the great spear, and at that cast
night fell on Aillen mac Midna. His eyes
went black, his mind whirled and ceased,
there came nothingness where he had been,
and as the Birgha whistled into his shoulder-
blades he withered away, he tumbled emptily
and was dead. Fionn took his lovely head
from its shoulders and went back through
the night to Tara.

Triumphant Fionn, who had dealt death
to a god, and to whom death would be dealt,
and who is now dead !

He reached the palace at sunrise.

On that morning all were astir early.
They wished to see what destruction had
been wrought by the great being, but it was
young Fionn they saw and that redoubtable
head swinging by its han.

IOC

IV THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

''What is your demand?" said the
Ard-Ri.

"The thing that it is right I should ask,"
said Fionn : "the command of the Fianna of
Ireland."

"Make your choice," said Conn to Goll
Mor; "you will leave Ireland, or you will
place your hand in the hand of this champion
and be his man."

GroU could do a thing that would be hard
for another person, and he could do it so
beautifully that he was not diminished by
any action.

"Here is my hand," said Goll.

And he twinkled at the stem, young eyes
that gazed on him as he made his submission.

101

THE BIRTH OF BRAN

CHAPTER I

There are people who do not like dogs a bit
— they are usually women — ^but in this story
there is a man who did not like dogs. In
fact, he hated them. When he saw one he
used to go black in the face, and he threw
rocks at it until it got out of sight. But
the Power that protects all creatures had put
a squint into this man's eye, so that he
always threw crooked.

This gentleman's name was Fergus
Fionnliath, and his stronghold was near the
harbour of Galway. Whenever a dog barked
he would leap out of his seat, and he would
throw everydiing that he owned out of the
window in the direction of the bark. He
gave prizes to servants who disliked dogs,

102

CH. I THE BIRTH OF BRAN

and when he heard that a man had drowned
a litter of pups he used to visit that person
and try to marry his daughter.

Now Fionn, the son of Uail, was the re-
verse of Fergus Fionnliath in this matter,
for he delighted in dogs, and he knew every-
thing about them from the setting of the
first little white tooth to the rocking of the
last long yellow one. He knew the affections
and antipathies which are proper in a dog;
the degree of obedience to which dogs may
be trained without losing their honourable
qualities or becoming servile and suspicious;
he knew the hopes that animate them, the
apprehensions which tingle in their blood,
and all that is to be demanded from, or for-
given in, a paw, an ear, a nose, an eye, or a
tooth; and he understood these things be-.
cause he loved dogs, for it is by love alone'
that we understand anything.

Among the three hundred dogs which
Fionn owned there were two to whom he
gave an especial tenderness, and who were
his daily and nightly companions. These
two were Bran and Sceolan, but if a person
were to guess for twenty years he would not
find out why Fionn loved these two dogs and

103

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

why he would never be separated from
them.

Fiomi's mother, Muime, went to wide
Allen of Leinster to visit her son, and she
brought her yoimg sister Tuiren with her.
The mother and aunt of the great captain
were well treated among the Fianna, first,
because they were parents to Fionn, and
second, because they were beautiful and
noble women.

No words can describe how delightful
Muime was — she took the branch; and as
to Tuiren, a man could not look at her with-
out becoming angry or dejected. Her face
was fresh as a spring morning; her voice
more cheerful than the cuckoo calling from
the branch that is highest in the hedge; and
her forai swayed like a reed and flowed like
a river, so that each person thought she
would surely flow to him.

Men who had wives of their own grew
moody and downcast because they could not
hope to marry her, while the bachelors of the
Fianna stared at each other with truculent,
bloodshot eyes, and then they gazed on
Tuiren so gently that she may have imagined

104

X THE BIRTH OF BRAN

she was being beamed on by the mild eyes
of the dawn.

It was to an Ulster gentleman, loUan
Eachtach, that she gave her love, and this
chief stated his rights and qualities and asked
for her in marriage.

Now Fionn did not dislike the men of
Ulster, but either he did not know them well
or else he knew them too well, for he made a
curious stipulation before consenting to the
marriage. He bound lollan to return the
lady if there should be occasion to think her
unhappy, and lollan agreed to do so. The
sureties to this bargain were Caelte mac
Ronan, GoU mac Moma, and Lugaidh.
Lugaidh himself gave the bride away, but it
was not a pleasant ceremony for him, because
he also was in love with the lady, and he
would have preferred keeping her to giving
her away. When she had gone he made a
poem about her, beginning:

There b no more light in the sky —

And hundreds of sad people learned the
poem by heart.

105

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

CHAPTER II

When loUan and Tuiren were married they
went to Ulster, and they lived together
very happily. But the law of life is change ;
nothing continues in the same way for any
length of time; happiness must become un-
happiness, and will be succeeded again by
the joy it had displaced. The past also must
be reckoned with; it is seldom as far behind
us as we could wish : it is more often in front,
blocking the way, and the future trips over it
just when we think that the road is clear and
joy our own.

lollan had a past. He was not ashamed
of it; he merely thought it was finished, al-
though in truth it was only beginning, for it
is that perpetual beginning of the past that
we call the future.

Before he joined the Fianna he had been
in love with a lady of the Shi, named Uct
Dealv (Fair Breast), and they had been
sweethearts for years. How often he had
visited his sweetheart in Faery ! With what
eagerness and anticipation he had gone there ;
the lover's whistle that he used to give was
known to every person in that Shi, and he

106

tt THE BIRTH OF BRAN

bad been discussed by more than one of the
delicate sweet ladies of Faery.

*That is your whistle, Fair Breast," her
sister of the Shi would say.

And Uct Dealv would reply:

*'Yes, that is my mortal, my lover, my
pulse, and my one treasure."

She laid her spinning aside, or her em-
broidery if she was at that, or if she were
baking a cake of fine wheaten bread mixed
with honey she would leave the cake to bake
itself and fly to lollan. Then they went
hand in hand in the country that smells of
apple-blossom and honey, looking on heavy-
boughed trees and on dancing and beaming
clouds. Or they stood dreaming together,
locked in a clasping of arms and eyes, gazing
up and down on each other, lollan staring
down into sweet grey wells that peeped and
flickered under thin brows, and Uct Dealv
looking up into great black ones that went
dreamy and went hot in endless alternation.

Then lollan would go back to the world
of men, and Uct Dealv would return to her
occupations in the Land of the Ever Young.

''What did he say?" her sister of the Shi
would ask.

107

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"He said I was the Berry of the Mountain,
the Star of Knowledge, and the Blossom of
the Raspberry."

"They always say the same thing," her
sister pouted.

"But they look other things," Uct Dealv
insisted. "They feel other things," she
rpurmured; and an endless conversation
recommenced.

Then for some time loUan did not come
to Faery, and Uct Dealv marvelled at that,
while her sister made an hundred surmises,
each one worse than the last.

"He is not dead or he would be here,"
she said. "He has forgotten you, my darling.*'

News was brought to Tir na n-Og of the
marriage of lollan and Tuiren, and when
Uct Dealv heard that news her heart ceased
to beat for a moment, and she closed her
eyes.

"Now !" said her sister of the Shi. "That
is how long the love of a mortal lasts," she
added, in the voice of sad triumph which is
proper to sisters.

But on Uct Dealv there came a rage of
jealousy and despair such as no person in the
Shi had ever heard of, and from that moment

108

11 THE BIRTH OF BRAN

she became capable of every ill deed; for
there are two things not easily controlled,
and they are hunger and jealousy. She de-
termined that the woman who had sup-
planted her in loUan's aflFections should rue
the day she did it. She pondered and
brooded revenge in her heart, sitting in
thoughtful solitude and bitter coUectedness
until at last she had a plan.

She understood the arts of magic and
shape-changing, so she changed her shape
into that of Fionn's female nmner, the best-
known woman in Ireland; then she set out
from Faery and appeared in the world. She
travelled in the direction of loUan's strong-
hold.

loUan knew the appearance of Fionn's
messenger, but he was surprised to see her.

She saluted him.

"Health and long life, my master."

"Health and good days," he replied.
"What brings you here, dear heart?"

"I c(Mne from Fionn."

"And your message?" said he.

"The royal captain intends to visit you."

"He will be welcome," said lollan. "We
shall give him an Ulster feast."

109

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"The world knows what that is/* said the
messenger courteously. "And now," she con-
tinued, "I have messages for your queen."

Tuiren then walked from the house with
the messenger, but when they had gone a
short distance Uct Dealv drew a hazel rod
from beneath her cloak and struck it on the
queen's shoulder, and on the instant Tuiren's
figure trembled and quivered, and it began
to whirl inwards and downwards, and she
changed into the appearance of a hound.

It was sad to see the beautiful, slender
dog standing shivering and astonished, and
sad to see the lovely eyes that looked out
pitifully in terror and amazement. But Uct
Dealv did not feel sad. She clasped a chain
about the hound's neck, and they set off
westward towards the house of Fergus
Fionnliath, who was reputed to be the im-
friendliest man in the world to a dog. It
was because of his reputation that Uct Dealv
was bringing the hound to him. She did
not want a good home for this dog: she
wanted the worst home that could be found
in the world, and she thought that Fergus
would revenge for her the rage and jealousy
which she felt towards Tuiren.

m THE BIRTH OF BRAN

CHAPTER III

As they paced along Uct Dealv railed bit-
terly against the hound, and shook and
jerked her chain. Many a sharp cry the
hound gave in that journey, many a wild
lament.

"Ah, supplanter! Ah, taker of another
girFs sweetheart!" said Uct Dealv fiercely.
"How would your lover take it if he could
see you now? How would he look if he
saw your pointy ears, your long thin snout,
your shivering, skinny legs, and your long
grey tail. He would not love you now, bad

girl !''

"Have you heard of Fergus Fionnliath,"
she said again, "the man who does not like
dogs?"

Tuiren had indeed heard of him.

"It is to Fergus I shall bring you," cried
Uct Dealv. "He will throw stones at you.
You have never had a stone thrown at you.
Ah, bad girl ! You do not know how a stone
sounds as it nips the ear with a whirling
buzz, nor how jagged and heavy it feels as
it thumps against a skinny leg. RoJ^ber!

Ill

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

Mortal! Bad girl! You have never been
whipped, but you will be whipped now. You
shall hear the song of a lash as it curls for-
ward and bites inward and drags backward.
'You shall dig up old bones stealthily at
night, and chew them against famine. You
shall whine and squeal at the moon, and
shiver in the cold, and you will never take
another girl's sweetheart again."

And it was in those terms and in that tone
that she spoke to Tuiren as they journeyed
forward, so that the hound trembled and
shrank, and whined pitifully and in des-
pair.

They came to Fergus Fionnliath's strong-
hold, and Uct Dealv demanded admittance.

"Leave that dog outside," said the servant.

"I will not do so," said the pretended
messenger.

"You can come in without the dog, or
you can stay out with the dog," said the surly
guardian.

"By my hand," cried Uct Dealv, "I will
come in with this dog, or your master shall
answer for it to Fionn."

At the name of Fionn the servant almost
fell out of his standing. He flew to acquaint

112

Ill THE BIRTH OF BRAN

his master, and Fergus himself came to the
great door of the stronghold.

"By my faith," he cried in amazement,
"it is a dog/'

"A dog it is," growled the glum servant.

"Gro you away," said Fergus to Uct Dealv,
"and when you have killed the dog come
back to me and I will give you a present."

"Life and health, my good master, from
Fionn, the son of Uail, the son of Baiscne,"
said she to Fergus.

"Life and health back to Fionn," he re-
plied. "C(Mne into the house and give your
message, but leave the dog outside, for I
don't like dogs."

"The dog comes in," the messenger replied.

"How is that?" cried Fergus angrily.

"Fionn sends you this hoimd to take
care of until he comes for her," said the
messenger.

"I wonder at that," Fergus growled, "for
Fionn knows well that there is not a man in
the world has less of a liking for dogs than
I have."

"However that may be, master, I have
given Fionn' s message, and here at my heel
is the dog. Do you take her or refuse her?"

113

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"If I could refuse anything to Fionn it
would be a dog," said Fergus, "but I could
not refuse anything to Fionn, so give me the
hound."

Uct Dealv put the chain in his hand.

"Ah, bad dog!" said she.

And then she went away well satisfied
with her revenge, and returned to her own
people in the Shi.

CHAPTER IV

On the following day Fergus called his
servant :

"Has that dog stopped shivering yet?" he
asked.

"It has not, sir," said the servant.

"Bring the beast here," said his master,
"for whoever else is dissatisfied Fionn must
be satisfied."

The dog was brought, and he examined it
with a jaundiced and bitter eye.

"It has the shivers indeed," he said.

"The shivers it has," said the servant.

"How do you cure the shivers?" his
master demanded, for he thought that if the

114

^ THE BIRTH OF BRAN

^^al's legs dropped off Fionn would not
be satisfied.

"There is a way," said the servant doubt-
fully.

"If there is a way, tell it to me," cried
his master angrily.

"If you were to take the beast up in your
anns and hug it and kiss it, the shivers would
stop," said the man.

"Do you mean ?" his master thim-

dered, and he stretched his hand for a club.

"I heard that," said the servant humbly.

"Take that dog up," Fergus commanded,
"and hug it and kiss it, and if I find a single
shiver left in the beast FU break your head."

The man bent to the hound, but it snapped
a piece out of his hand, and nearly bit his
nose off as well.

"That dog doesn't like me," said the man.

"Nor do I," roared Fergus; "get out of
my sight."

The man went away and Fergus was left
alone with the hound, but the poor creature
was so terrified that it began to tremble ten
times worse than before.

"Its legs will drop off," said Fergus.
"Fionn will blame me," he cried in despair.

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

He walked to the hound.

"If you snap at my nose, or if you put
as much as the start of a tooth into the
beginning of a finger!" he growled.

He picked up the dog, but it did not snap,
it only trembled. He held it gingerly for
a few moments.

"If it has to be hugged," he said, "I'll
hug it. I'd do more than that for Fionn."

He tucked and tightened the animal into
his breast, and marched moodily up and down
the room. The dog's nose lay along his
breast under his chin, and as he gave it duti-
ful hugs, one hug to every five paces, the dog
put out its tongue and licked him timidly
under the chin.

"Stop," roared Fergus, "stop that for
ever," and he grew very red in the face, and
stared truculently down along his nose. A
soft brown eye looked up at him and the shy
tongue touched again on his chin.

"If it has to be kissed," said Fergus gloom-
ily, "I'll kiss it. I'd do more than that for
Fionn," he groaned.

He bent his head, shut his eyes, and
brought the dog's jaw against his lips. And
at that the dog gave little wriggles in his

116

IV THE BIRTH OF BRAN

arms, and little barks, and little licks, so that
he could scarcely hold her. He put the hound
down at last.

"There is not a single shiver left in her,"
he said.

And that was trae.

Everywhere he walked the dog followed
him, giving little prances and little pats
against him, and keeping her eyes fixed on
his with such eagerness and intelligence that
he marvelled.

"That dog likes me,'' he muraiured in
amazement.

"By my hand,'' he cried next day, "I like
that dog."

The day after that he was calling her "My
One Treasure, My Little Branch." And
within a week he could not bear her to be
out of his sight for an instant.

He was toraiented by the idea that some
evil person might throw a stone at the hound,
so he assembled his servants and retainers
and addressed them.

He told them that the hound was the
Queen of Creatures, the Pulse of his Heart,
and the Apple of his Eye, and he warned
them that the person who as much as looked

117

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

sideways on her, or knocked one shiver out
of her, would answer for the deed with pains
and indignities. He recited a list of calami-
ties which would befall such a miscreant,
and these woes began with flaying and ended
with dismemberaient, and had inside bits of
such complicated and ingenious torment
that the blood of the men who heard it ran
chill in their veins, and the women of the
household fainted where they stood.

CHAPTER V

In course of time the news came to Fionn
that his mother's sister was not living with
lollan. He at once sent a messenger calling
for fulfilment of the pledge that had been
given to the Fianna, and demanding the in-
stant return of Tuiren. lollan was in a sad
condition when this demand was made. He
guessed that Uct Dealv had a hand in the
disappearance of his queen, and he begged
that time should be given him in which to
find the lost girl. He promised if he could
not discover her within a certain period that
he would deliver his body into Fionn's hands,

118

V THE BIRTH OF BRAN

and would abide by whatever judgement
Fionn might pronoimce. The great captain
agreed to that.

"Tell the wife-loser that I will have the
girl or I will have his head/' said Fionn.

lollan set out then for Faery. He knew
the way, and in no great time he came to the
hill where Uct Dealv was.

It was hard to get Uct Dealv to meet him,
but at last she consented, and they met under
the apple boughs of Faery.

"Well !" said Uct Dealv. "Ah ! Breaker
of Vows and Traitor to Love," said she.

"Hail and a blessing," said lollan humbly.

"By my hand," she cried, "I will give you
no blessing, for it was no blessing you left
with me when we parted."

"I am in danger," said lollan.

"What is that to me?" she replied fiercely.

"Fionn may claim my head," he mur-
mured.

"Let him claim what he can take," said
she.

"No," said lollan proudly, 'lie will claim
what I can give."

"Tell me your tale," said she coldly.

119

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

lollan told his story then, and, he con-
cluded, "I am certam that you have hidden
the girl/'

"If I save your head from Fionn," the
woman of the Shi replied, "then your head
will belong to me."

"That is true," said lollan.

"And if your head is mine, the body that
goes under it is mine. Do you agree to
that?"

"I do," said lollan.

"Give me your pledge," said Uct Dealv,
"that if I save you from this danger you will
keep me as your sweetheart imtil the end of
life and time."

"I give that pledge," said lollan.

Uct Dealv went then to the house of
Fergus Fionnliath, and she broke the en-
chantment that was on the hound, so that
Tuiren's own shape came back to her; but
in the matter of two small whelps, to which
the hound had given birth, the enchantment
could not be broken, so they had to remain
as they were. These two whelps were Bran
and Sceolan. They were sent to Fionn, and
he loved them for ever after, for they were
loyal and affectionate, as only dogs can be,

120

V THE BIRTH OF BRAN

and they were as intelligent as human beings.
Besides that, they were Fionn's own cousins.
Tuiren was then asked in marriage by
Lugaidh who had loved her so long. He
had to prove to her that he was not any other
woman's sweetheart, and when he proved
that they were married, and they lived
happily ever after, which is the proper way
to live. He wrote a poem beginning:

Lovely the day. Dear is the eye of the dawn —

And a thousand merry people learned it
after him.

But as to Fergus Fionnliath, he took to
his bed, and he stayed there for a year and a
day suffering from blighted affection, and he
would have died in the bed only that Fionn
sent him a special pup, and in a week that
young hound became the Star of Fortune and
the very Pulse of his Heart, so that he got
well again, and he also lived happily ever
after.

121

OISIN^S MOTHER

CHAPTER I

Evening was drawing nigh, and the Fianna-
Finn had decided to hunt no more that day.
The hounds were whistled to heel, and a
sober, homeward march began. For men will
walk soberly in the evening, however they go
in the day, and dogs will take the mood from
their masters.

They were pacing so, through the golden-
shafted, tender-coloured eve, when a fawn
leaped suddenly from covert, and, with that
leap, all quietness vanished: the men
shouted, the dogs gave tongue, and a furious
chase commenced.

Fionn loved a chase at any hour, and, with
Bran and Sceolan, he outstripped the men
and dogs of his troop, until nothing remained
in the limpid world but Fionn, the two
hoimds, and the nimble, beautiful fawn.

122

CH. I OISIN'S MOTHER

These, and the occasional boulders, round
which they raced, or over which they scram-
bled ; the solitary tree which dozed aloof and
beautiful in the path, the occasional clump
of trees that hived sweet shadow as a hive
hoards honey, and the rustling grass that
stretched to infinity, and that moved and
crept and swung under the breeze in endless,
rhythmic billowings.

In his wildest moment Fionn was thought-
ful, and now, although running hard, he was
thoughtful. There was no movement of his
beloved hounds that he did not know; not
a twitch or fling of the head, not a cock of the
ears or tail that was not significant to him.
But on this chase whatever signs the dogs
gave were not understood by their master.

He had never seen them in such eager
flight. They were almost utterly absorbed
in it, but they did not whine with eagerness,
nor did they cast any glance towards him for
the encouraging word which he never failed
to give when they sought it.

They did look at him, but it was a look
which he could not comprehend. There
was a question and a statement in those deep
eyes, and he could not imderstand what that

123

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

question might be, nor what it was they
sought to convey. Now and again one of
the dogs turned a head in full flight, and
stared, not at Fionn, but distantly back-
wards, over the spreading and swelling plain
where their OMnpanions of the hunt had
disappeared.

"They are looking for the other hounds,"
said Fionn.

"And yet they do not give tongue!
Tongue it, a Vran!" he shouted, "bell it out,
aHeolan!"

It was then they looked at him, the look
which he could not understand and had never
seen on a chase. They did not tongue it,
nor bell it, but they added silence to silence
and speed to speed, until the lean grey bodies
were one pucker and lashing of movement.

Fionn marvelled.

"They do not want the other dogs to hear
or to come on this chase," he murmured, and
he wondered what might be passing within
those slender heads.

"The fawn runs well," his thought con-
tinued. 'What is it, a Vran, my heart?
After her, a Heolan! Hist and away, my
loves !"

124

I OISIN'S MOTHER

'There is going and to spare in that beast
yet," his mind went on. "She is not stretched
to the full, nor half stretched. She may
outrun even Bran," he thought ragingly.

They were racing through a smooth valley
in a steady, beautiful, speedy flight when,
suddenly, the fawn stopped and lay on the
grass, and it lay with the calm of an animal
that has no fear, and the leisure of one that
is not pressed.

"Here is a change," said Fionn, staring
in astonishment. "She is not winded," he
said. "What is she lying down for?"

But Bran and Sceolan did not stop; they
added another inch to their long-stretched
easy bodies, and came up on the fawn.

"It is an easy kill," said Fionn regretfully.
"They have her," he cried.

But he was again astonished, for the dogs
did not kill. They leaped and played about
the fawn, licking its face, and rubbing de-
lighted noses against its neck.

Fionn came up then. His long spear was
lowered in his fist at the thrust, and his sharp
knife was in its sheath, but he did not use
them, for the fawn and the two hounds began
to play aroimd him, and the fawn was as af-

125

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

fectionate towards him as the hounds were;
so that when a velvet nose was thrust in his
palm, it was as often a fawn's muzzle as a
hoimd's.

In that joyous company he came to wide
Allen of Leinster, where the people were sur-
prised to see the hounds and the fawn and
the Chief and none other of the hunters that'
had set out with them.

When the others reached home, the Chief
told of his chase, and it was agreed that such
a fawn must not be killed, but that it should
be kept and well treated, and that it should
be the pet fawn of the Fianna. But some
of those who remembered Bran's parentage
thought that as Bran herself had come from
the Shi so this fawn might have come out of
the Shi also.

CHAPTER II

Late that night, when he was preparing for
rest, the door of Fionn's chamber opened
gently and a young woman came into the
room. The captain stared at her, as he well
might, for he had never seen or imagined to
see a woman so beautiful as this was. Indeed,

126

II OISIN'S MOTHER

she was not a woman, but a young gir^ and
her bearing was so gently noble, her look so
modestly high, that the champion dared
scarcely look at her, although he could not
by any means have looked away.

As she stood within the doorway, smiling,
and shy as a flower, beautifully timid
as a fawn, the Chief communed with his
heart :

"She is the Sky-woman of the Dawn," he
said. "She is the light on the foam. She
is white and odorous as an apple-blossom.
She smells of spice and honey. She is my
beloved beyond the women of the world. She
shall never be taken from me."

And that thought was delight and anguish
to him: delight because of such sweet pros-
pect, anguish because it was not yet realised,
and might not be.

As the dogs had looked at him on the
chase with a look that he did not understand,
so she looked at him, and in her regard there
was a question that baffled him and a state-
ment which he could not follow.

He spoke to her then, mastering his heart
to do it.

"I do not seem to know you," he said.

127

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"You do not know me indeed," she
replied.

"It is the more wonderful," he c(mtinued
gently, "for I should know every person
that is here. What do you require frcnn
me?"

"I beg your protection, royal captain."

"I give that to all," he answered. "Against
whom do you desire protection?"

"I am in terror of the Fear Doirche."

"The Dark Man of the Shi?"

"He is niy enemy," she said.

"He is mine now," said Fionn. "Tell me
your story."

"My name is Saeve, and I am a woman
of Faery," she commenced. "In the Shi
many men gave me their love, but I gave
my love to no man of my coimtry."

"That was not reasonable," the other
chided with a blithe heart.

"I was contented," she replied, "and what
we do not want we do not lack. But if my
love went anywhere it went to a mortal, a
man of the men of Ireland."

"By my hand," said Fionn in mortal
distress, "I marvel who that man can be !"

128

II OISIN'S MOTHER

"He is known to you," she murmured. "I
lived thus in the peace of Faery, hearing
often of my mortal champion, for the rumour
of his great deeds had gone through the Shi,
until a day came when the Black Magician
of the Men of God put his eye on me, and,
after that day, in whatever direction I
looked I saw his eye."

She stopped at that, and the terror that
was in her heart was on her face.

"He is everywhere," she whispered. "He
is in the bushes, and on the hill. He looked
up at me from the water, and he stared down
on me from the sky. His voice commands
out of the spaces, and it demands secretly in
the heart. He is not here or there, he is in
all places at all times. I cannot escape from
him," she said, "and I am afraid," and at
that she wept noiselessly and stared on Fionn.

"He is my enemy," Fionn growled. "I
name him as my enemy."

"You will protect me?" she implored.

"Where I am let him not come," said
Fionn. "I also have knowledge. I am Fionn,
the son of Uail, the son of Baiscne, a man
among men and a god where the gods are."

129

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"He asked me in marriage," she contin-
ued, "but my mind was full of my own dear
hero, and I refused the Dark Man."

"That was your right, and I swear by my
hand that if the man you desire is alive and
unmarried he shall marry you or he will
answer to me for the refusal."

"He is not married," said Saeve, "and you
have small control over him."

The Chief frowned thoughtfully.

"Except the High King and the kings I
have authority in this land."

"What man has authority over himself?"
said Saeve.

"Do you mean that I am the man you
seek?" said Fionn.

"It is to yourself I gave my love," she
replied.

"This is good news," Fionn cried joyfully,
"for the moment you came through the door
I loved and desired you, and the thought that
you wished for another man went into my
heart like a sword."

Indeed, Fionn loved Saeve as he had not
loved a woman before and would never love
one again. He loved her as he had never
loved anything before. He could not bear

1^0

n OISIN'S MOTHER

to be away from her. When he saw her he
did not see the world, and when he saw the
world without her it was as though he saw
nothing, or as if he looked on a prospect that
was bleak and depressing. The belling of a
stag had been music to Fionn, but when
Saeve spoke that was sound enough for him.
He had loved to hear the cuckoo calling in
the spring from the tree that is highest in
the hedge, or the blackbird's jolly whistle
in an autumn bush, or the thin, sweet en-
chantment that comes to the mind when
a lark thrills out of sight m the air and the
hushed fields listen to the song. But his
wife's voice was sweeter to Fionn than the
singing of a lark. She filled him with wonder
and surmise. There was magic in the tips of
her fingers. Her thin palm ravished him.
Her slender foot set his heart beating; and
whatever way her head moved there came a
new shape of beauty to her face.

"She is always new," said Fionn. "She is
always better than any other woman; she
is always better than herself."

He attended no more to the Fianna. He
ceased to hunt. He did not listen to the
songs of poets or the curious sayings of ma-

131

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

gicians, for all of these were in his wife, and
something that was beyond these was in her
also.

''She is this world and the next one; she is
completion," said Fionn.

CHAPTER III

It happened that the men of Lochlann came
on an expedition against Ireland. A mon-
strous fleet rounded the bluffs of Ben Edair,
and the Danes landed there, to prepare an
attack which would render them masters of
the country. Fionn and the Fianna-Finn
marched against them. He did not like the
men of Lochlann at any time, but this time
he moved against them in wrath, for not only
were they attacking Ireland, but they had
c<Mne between him and the deepest joy his
life had known.

It was a hard fight, but a short one. The
Lochlannachs were driven back to their ships,
and within a week the only Danes remaining
in Ireland were those that had been buried
there.

That finished, he left the victorious Fianna

132

ni OISIN'S MOTHER

and returned swiftly to the plain of Allen,
for he could not bear to be one unnecessary
day parted from Saeve.

"You are not leaving us !" exclaimed Goll
mac Moma.

"I must go," Fionn replied.

"You will not desert the victory feast,"
Conan reproached him.

"Stay with us. Chief," Caelte be^ed.

"What is a feast without Fiomi?" they
ccxnplained.

But he would not stay.

"By my hand," he cried, "I must go. She
will be looking for me from the window."

"That will happen indeed," Goll ad-
mitted.

"That will happen," cried Fionn. "And
when she sees me far out on the plain, she
will run through the great gate to meet me."

"It would be the queer wife would neglect
that run," Conan growled.

"I shall hold her hand again," Fionn
entrusted to Cache's ear.

"You will do that, surely."

"I shall look into her face," his lord
insisted.

But he saw that not even beloved Caelte

133

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

understood the meaning of that, and he knew
sadly and yet proudly that what he meant
could not be explained by any one and could
not be comprehended by any one.

"You are in love, dear heart," said Caelte.

"In love he is," Conan grumbled. "A
cordial for women, a disease for men, a state
of wretchedness."

"Wretched in truth," the Chief murmured.
"Love makes us poor. We have not eyes
enough to see all that is to be seen, nor hands
enough to seize the tenth of all we want.
When I look in her eyes I am toraiented be-
cause I am not looking at her lips, and when
I see her lips my soul cries out, 'Look at her
eyes, look at her eyes.' "

"That is how it happens," said GoU
rememberingly.

"That way and no other," Caelte agreed.

And the champions looked backwards in
time on these lips and those, and knew their
Chief would go.

When Fionn came in sight of the great
keep his blood and his feet quickened, and
now and again he waved a spear in the air.

"She does not see me yet," he thought
mournfully.

134

Ill OISIN'S MOTHER

"She cannot see me yet," he amended,
reproaching himself.

But his mind was troubled, for he thought
also, or he felt without thinking, that had
the positions been changed he would have
seen her at twice the distance.

"She thinks I have been imable to get
away from the battle, or that I was forced
to remain for the feast."

And, without thinking it, he thought that
had the positions been changed he would
have known that nothing could retain the one
that was absent.

"Women," he said, "are shamefaced, they
do not like to appear eager when others are
observing them."

But he knew that he would not have
known if others were observing him, and that
he would not have cared about it if he had
known. And he knew that his Saeve would
not have seen, and would not have cared for
any eyes than his.

He gripped his spear on that reflection,
and ran as he had not run in his life, so that
it was a panting, dishevelled man that raced
heavily through the gates of the great Dun.

Widiin the Dun there was disorder.

135

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

Servants were shouting to one another, and
women were running to and fro aimlessly,
wringing their hands and screaming; and,
when they saw the Champion, those nearest
to him ran away, and there was a general
effort on the part of every person to get be-
hind every other person. But Fionn caught
the eye of his butler, Gariv Cronan, the
Rough Buzzer, and held it.

"Come you here," he said.

And the Rough Buzzer came to him
without a single buzz in his body.

"Where is the Flower of Allen?" his
master demanded.

"I do not know, master," the terrified
servant replied.

"You do not know !" said Fionn. "Tell
what you do know."

And the man told him this story.

CHAPTER IV

"When you had been away for a day the
guards were surprised. They were looking
from the heights of the Dun, and the Flower
of Allen was with them. She, for she had

136

IV OISIN'S MOTHER

a quest's eye, called out that the master of
the Fianna was commg over the ridges to
the Dun, and she ran from the keep to meet
you."

"It was not I," said Fionn.

"It bore your shape," replied Gariv
Cronan. "It had your armour and your face,
and the dogs. Bran and Sceolan, were with
it."

"They were with me," said Fionn.

"They seemed to be with it," said the
servant humbly.

"Tell us this tale," cried Fionn.

"We were distrustful," the servant con-
tinued. "We had never known Fionn to
return from a combat before it had been
fought, and we knew you could not have
reached Ben Edair or encountered the Loch-
lannachs. So we urged our lady to let us
go out to meet you, but to remain herself
in the Dun."

"It was good urging," Fionn assented.

"She would not be advised," the servant
wailed. "She cried to us, *Let me go to
meet my love.' "

"Alas !" said Fionn.

"She cried on us, *Let me go to meet my

137

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

husband, the father of the child that is not
bom.' "

"Alas !" groaned deep-wounded Fionn.

"She ran towards your appearance that
had your arms stretched out to her."

At that wise Fionn put his hand before
his eyes, seeing all that happened.

"Tell on your tale," said he.

"She ran to those arms, and when she
reached them the figure lifted its hand. It
touched her with a hazel rod, and, while we
looked, she disappeared, and where she had
been there was a fawn standing and shiver-
ing. The fawn turned and bounded towards
the gate of the Dun, but the hounds that
were by flew after her."

Fionn stared on him like a lost man.

"They took her by the throat " the

shivering servant whispered.

"Ah!" cried Fionn in a terrible voice.

"And they dragged her back to the figure
that seemed to be Fionn. Three times she
broke away and came bounding to us, and
three times the dogs took her by the throat
and dragged her back."

"You stood to look!" the Chief snarled.

"No, master, we ran, but she vanished as

138

V OISIN'S MOTHER

we got to her; the great hounds vanished
away, and that being that seemed to be Fionn
disappeared with them. We were left in the
rough grass, staring about us and at each
other, and listening to the moan of the wind
and the terror of our hearts."

"Forgive us, dear master," the servant
cried.

But the great captain made him no answer.
He stood as though he were dumb and blind,
and now and again he beat terribly on his
breast with his closed fist, as though he would
kill that within him which should be dead
and could not die. He went so, beating on
his breast, to his inner room in the Dun,
and he was not seen again for the rest of that
day, nor until the sun rose over Moy Life in
the morning.

CHAPTER V

For many years after that time, when he
was not fighting against the enemies of
Ireland, Fionn was searching and hunting
through the length and breadth of the
country in the hope that he might again
chance on his lovely lady from the Shi.

139

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

Through all that time he slept in misery
each night and he rose each day to grief.
Whenever he hunted he brought only the
hoimds that he trusted, Brau and Sceolan,
Lomaire, Brod, and Lomlu; for if a fawn
was chased each of these five great dogs
would know if that was a fawn to be killed
or one to be protected, and so there was
small danger to Saeve and a small hope of
finding her.

Once, when seven years had passed in
fruitless search, Fionn and the chief nobles
of the Fianna were hunting Ben Gulbain.
All the hounds of the Fianna were out, for
Fionn had now given up hope of encoimter-
ing the Flower of Allen. As the himt swept
along the sides of the hill there arose a great
outcry of hounds from a narrow place high
on the slope, and over all that uproar there
came the savage baying of Fionn' s own dogs.

"What is this for?" said Fionn, and with
his companions he pressed to the spot whence
the noise came.

"They are fighting all the hoimds of the
Fianna," cried a champion.

And they were. The five wise hounds
were in a circle and were giving battle to afi

140

^ OISIN'S MOTHER

hundred dogs at once. They were bristling
and terrible, and each bite from those great,
keen jaws was woe to the beast that received
it. Nor did they fight in silence as was their
custom and training, but between each on-
slaught the great heads were uplifted, and
they pealed loudly, mournfully, urgently, for
their master.

"They are calling on me," he roared.

And with that he ran, as he had only once
before run, and the men who were nigh to
him went racing as they would not have run
for their lives.

They came to the narrow place on the
slope of the moimtain, and they saw the five
great hounds in a circle keeping off the other
dogs, and in the middle of the ring a little/
boy was standing. He had long, beautiful
hair, and he was naked. He was not daimted
by the terrible combat and clamour of the
hounds. He did not look at the hounds,
but he stared like a young prince at Fionn
and the champions as they rushed towards
him scattering the pack with the butts of
their spears. When the fight was over, Bran
and Sceolan ran whining to the little boy and
licked his hands.

141

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

**They do that to no one," said a by-
stander. "What new master is this they have
found?"

Fionn bent to the boy.

"Tell me, my little prince and pulse, what
your name is, and how you have come into
the middle of a hunting-pack, and why you
are naked?"

But the boy did not understand the lan-
guage of the men of Ireland. He put his
hand into Fionn' s, and the Chief felt as
if that little hand had been put into his
heart. He lifted the lad to his great
shoulder.

"We have caught something on this
hunt," said he to Caelte mac Ronan. "We
must bring this treasure home. You shall
be one of the Fianna-Finn, my darling," he
called upwards.

The boy looked down on him, and in the
noble trust and fearlessness of that regard
Fionn's heart melted away.

"My little fawn !" he said.

And he remembered that other fawn. He
set the boy between his knees and stared at
him earnestly and long.

"There is surely the same look," he said

142

VI OISIN'S MOTHER

to his wakening heart; "that is the very eye
of Saeve."

The grief flooded out of his heart as at
a stroke, and joy foamed into it in one great
tide. He marched back singing to the en-
campment, and men saw once more the
merry Chief they had almost forgotten.

CHAPTER VI

Just as at one time he could not be parted
from Saeve, so now he could not be separated
from this boy. He had a thousand names
for him, each one more tender than the last :
"My Fawn, My Pulse, My Secret Little
Treasure," or he would call him "My
Music, My Blossoming Branch, My Store
in the Heart, My Soul." And the dogs
were as wild for the boy as Fionn was. He
could sit in safety among a pack that would
have torn any man to pieces, and the reason
was that Bran and Sceolan, with their three
whelps, followed him about like shadows.
When he was with the pack these five were
with him, and woeful indeed was the eye
they turned on their comrades when these
pushed too closely or were not properly

143

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

humble. They thrashed the pack severally
and collectively until every hound in Fionn's
kennels knew that the little lad was their
master, and that there was nothing in the
world so sacred as he was.

In no long time the five wise hounds could
have given over their guardianship, so com-
plete was the recognition of their yoimg lord.
But they did not so give over, for it was not
love they gave the lad but adoration.

Fionn even may have been embarrassed by
their too close attendance. If he had been
able to do so he might have spoken harshly
to his dogs, but he could not; it was un-
thinkable that he should ; and the boy might
have spoken harshly to him if he had dared
to do it. For this was the order of Fionn's
affection : first there was the boy ; next. Bran
and Sceolan with their three whelps; then
Caelte mac Ronan, and from him down
through the champions. He loved them all,
but it was along that precedence his aflFec-
tions ran. The thorn that went into Bran's
foot ran into Fionn's also. The world knew
it, and there was not a champion but admit-
ted sorrowfully that there was reason for his
love.

Little by little the boy came to imder-

144

VII OISIN'S MOTHER

stand their speech and to speak it himself,
and at last he was able to tell his story to
Fionn.

There were many blanks in the tale, for a
young child does not remember very well.
Deeds grow old in a day and are buried in
a night. New memories come crowding on
old ones, and one must learn to forget as
well as to remember. A whole new life had
dome on this boy, a life that was instant and
memorable, so that his present memories
blended into and obscured the past, and he
could not be quite sure if that which he told
of had happened in this world or in the world
lie had left.

CHAPTER VII

*T USED to live," he said, "in a wide, beau-
triful place. There were hills and valleys
there, and woods and streams, but in what-
ever direction I went I came always to a cliflF,
so tall it seemed to lean against the sky, and
so straight that even a goat would not have
imagined to climb it."

"I do not know of any such place," Fionn
mused.

"There is no such place in Ireland," said

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

Caelte, "but in the Shi there is such a
place/*

"There is in truth/' said Fionn.

"I used to eat fruits and roots in the
summer," the boy continued, "but in the
winter food was left for me in a cave/'

"Was there no one with you?" Fionn
asked.

"No one, but a deer that loved me, and
that I loved/'

"Ah me !" cried Fionn in anguish, "tell mc
your tale, my son/'

"A dark stern man came often after us,
and he used to speak with the deer. Some-
times he talked gently and softly and coax-
ingly, but at times again he would shout
loudly and in a harsh, angry voice. But
whatever way he talked the deer would draw
away from him in dread, and he always left
her at last furiously."

"It is the Dark Magician of the Men of
God," cried Fionn despairingly.

"It is indeed, my soul," said Caelte.

"The last time I saw the deer," the child
continued, "the dark man was speaking to
her. He spoke for a long time. He spoke
gently and angrily, and gently and angrily,

146

vn OISIN'S MOTHER

so that I thought he would never stop talk-
ing, but in the end he struck her with a hazel
rod, so that she was forced to follow
him when he went away. She was looking
back at me all the time and she was crying so
bitterly that any one would pity her. I tried
to follow her also, but I could not move, and
I cried after her too, with rage and grief,
until I could see her no more and hear her
no more. Then I fell on the grass, my senses
went away hom me, and when I awoke I
was on the hill in the middle of the hounds
where you foimd me."

That was the boy whom the Fianna called
Oism, or the Little Fawn. He grew to be
a great fighter afterwards, and he was the
chief maker of poems in the world. But he
was not yet finished with the Shi. He was
to go back into Faery when the time came,
and to come thence again to tell these tales,
for it was by him these tales were told.

THE WOOING OF BECFOLA

CHAPTER!

We do not know where Becfola came f rcMn.
Nor do we know for certain w^here she went
to. We do not even know her real name,
for the name Becfola, "Dowerless" or
"Small-dowered," was given to her as a nick-
name. This only is certain, that she dis-
appeared from the world we know of, and
that she went to a realm where even
conjecture may not follow her.

It happened in the days when Dermod,
son of the famous Ae of Slane, was monarch
of all Ireland. He was unmarried, but he
had many foster-sons, princes from the Four
Provinces, who were sent by their fathers as
tokens of loyalty and affection to the Ard-Ri,
and his duties as a foster-father were right-
eously acquitted. Among the yoimg princes

148

CH. 1 THE WOOING OF BECFOLA

1
I

of his household there Vas one, Crimthann,
son of Ae, Kmg of Leinster, whom the High
King preferred to the others over whom he
held fatherly sway. Nor was this wonderful,
for the lad loved him also, and was as eager
and intelligent and modest as becomes a
prince.

The High King and Crimthann would
often set out from Tara to hunt and hawk,
sometimes imaccompanied even by a servant ;
and on these excursions the king imparted
to his foster-son his own wide knowledge of
forest craft, and advised him generally as
t:o the bearing and duties of a prince,
tic conduct of a court, and the care of a
people.

Dennod mac Ae delighted in these solitary
adventures, and when he could steal a day
£rom policy and affairs he would send word
privily to Crimthann. The boy, having
dosmed his hunting gear, would join the king
at a place arranged between them, and then
they ranged abroad as chance might direct.

On one of these adventures, as they
searched a flooded river to find the ford, they
saw a solitary wcxnan in a chariot driving
from the vilest.

149

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"I wonder what that means?" the king
exclaimed thoughtfully.

"Why should you wonder at a w(Miian in
a chariot?" his companion inquired, for
Crimthann loved and would have knowledge.

*'Good, my Treasure," Deraiod answered,
"our minds are astonished when we see a
woman able to drive a cow to pasture, for it
has always seemed to us that they do not
drive well."

Crimthann absorbed instraction like a
sponge and digested it as rapidly.

"I think that is justly said," he agreed.

"But," Deraiod continued, "when we sec
a woman driving a chariot of two horses, then
we are amazed indeed."

When the machinery of anything is ex-
plained to us we grow interested, and Crim-
thann became, by instraction, as astonished
as the king was.

"In good trath," said he, "the woman is
driving two horses."

"Had you not observed it before?" his
master asked with kindly malice.

"I had observed but not noticed," the
young man admitted.

"Further," said the king, ^'surmise is

150

I THE WOOING OF BECFOLA

aroused in us when we discover a woman far
from a house; for you will have both ob-
served and noticed that women are home-
dwellers, and that a house without a woman
or a woman without a house are imperfect
objects, and although they be but half ob-
served, they are noticed on the double."

"There is no doubting it," the prince
answered from a knitted and thought-
tormented brow.

"We shall ask this woman for information
about herself," said the king decidedly.
Let us do so," his ward agreed.
The king's majesty uses the words Ve'
^^nd W when referring to the king's maj-
esty," said Dermod, "but princes who do not
et rule territories must use another form of
peech when referring to themselves."

I am very thoughtless," said Crimthann
umbly.

The king kissed him on both cheeks.
"Indeed, my dear heart and my son, we are
^^ot scolding you, but you must try not to
T.ook so terribly thoughtful when you think.
It is part of the art of a ruler."

"I shall never master that hard art,"
lamented his fosterling.

151

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

"We must all master it/* Deraiod replied.
"We may think with our minds and with our
tongues, but we should never think with our
noses and with our eyebrows/'

The woman in the chariot had drawn nigh
to the ford by which they were standing, and,
without pause, she swimg her steeds into the
shallows and came across the river in a
tumult of foam and spray.

"Does she not drive well?" cried Crim-
thann admiringly.

"When you are older," the king coimselled
him, "you will admire that which is truly
admirable, for although the driving is good
the lady is better."

He continued with enthusiasm :

"She is in truth a wonder of the world and
an endless delight to the eye."

She was all that and more, and, as she took
the horses through the river and lifted them
up the bank, her flying hair and parted lips
and all the young strength and grace of her
body went into the king's eye and could not
easily come out again.

Nevertheless, it was upon his ward that
the lady's gaze rested, and if the king could
scarcely look away from her, she could, but

152

I THE WOOING OF BECFOLA

only with an equal effort, look away f r<xn
Crimthann.

"Halt there !' cried the king,

"Whom should I halt for?" the lady de-
manded, halting all the same, as is the man-
ner of women, who rebel against command
and yet receive it.

"Halt for Deraiodr

"There are Deraiods and Deraiods in this
^world," she quoted.

"There is yet but one Ard-Ri,** the
monarch answered.

She then descended from the chariot and
made her reverence.

"I wish to know your name?" said he.

But at this demand the lady frowned and
^answered decidedly :

"I do not wish to tell it."

"I wish to know also where you come
rom and to what place you are going?"

"I do not wish to tell any of these things."

"Not to the king?"

"I do not wish to tell them to any one."

Crimthann was scandalised.

"Lady," he pleaded, "you will surely not
"vrithhold information from the Ard-Ri?"

But the lady stared as royally on the High

153

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

King as the High King did on her, and,
whatever it was he saw in those lovely eyes,
the king did not insist.

He drew Crimthann apart, for he withheld
no instruction from that lad.

"My heart," he said, "we must always try-
to act wisely, and we should only insist on
receiving answers to questions in which we
are personally concerned."

Crimthann imbibed all the justice of that
remark.

"Thus I do not really require to know
this lady's name, nor do I care frcwn what
direction she comes."

"You do not?" Crimthann asked.

"No, but what I do wish to know is. Will
she marry me?"

"By my hand, that is a notable question,"
his companion stammered.

"It is a question that must be answered,"
the king cried triumphantly. "But," he
continued, "to learn what woman she is, or
where she comes from, might bring us tor-
ment as well as information. Who knows in
what adventures the past has engaged her!"

And he stared for a profound moment on
disturbing, sinister horizons, and Crimthann
meditated there with him.

1J4

n THE WOOING OF BECFOLA

"The past is hers," he concluded, "but the
future is ours, and we shall only demand that
which is pertinent to the future/*

He returned to the lady.

"We wish you to be our wife," he said.

And he gazed on her benevolently and
firmly and carefully when he said that, so
that her regard could not stray otherwhere.
Yet, even as he looked, a tear did well into
those lovely eyes, and behind her brow a
thought moved of the beautiful boy who was
looking at her from the king's side.

But when the High King of Ireland asks
us to marry him we do not refuse, for it is
not a thing that we shall be asked to do every
day in the week, and there is no woman
in the world but would love to rule it in
Tara.

No second tear crept on the lady's lashes,
and, with her hand in the king's hand, they
paced together towards the palace, while be-
hind them, in melancholy mood, Crimthann
mac Ac led the horses and the chariot.

CHAPTER II

They were married in a haste which equalled
the king's desire; and as he did not again

^55

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

ask her name, and as she did not volunteer
to give it, and as she brought no dowry to her
husband and received none from him, she
was called Becfola, the Dowerless.

Time passed, and the king's happiness was
as great as his expectation of it had promised.
But on the part of Becfola no similar tidings
can be given.

There are those whose happiness lies in
ambition and station, and to such a one the
fact of being queen to the High King of Ire-
land is a satisfaction at which desire is sated.
But the mind of Becfola was not of this
temperate quality, and, lacking Crimthann,
it seemed to her that she possessed nothing.

For to her mind he was the simlight in the
sun, the brightness in the moonbeam ; he was
the savour in fruit and the taste in honey;
and when she looked from Crimthann to the
king she could not but consider that the right
man was in the wrong place. She thought
that crowned only with his curls Crimthann
mac Ae was more nobly diademed than are
the masters of the world, and she told him so.

His terror on hearing this unexpected news
was so great that he meditated immediate
flight from Tara ; but when a thing has been

156

u THE WOOING OF BECFOLA

uttered once it is easier said the second time,
and on the third repetition it is patiently
listened to.

After no great delay Crimthann mac Ae
agreed and arranged that he and Becfola
should fly from Tara, and it was part of their
understanding that they should live happily
ever after.

One morning, when not even a bird was
astir, the king felt that his dear companion
was rising. He looked with one eye at the
light that stole greyly through the window,
and recognised that it could not in justice
be called light.

"There is not even a bird up,'' he
murmured.

And then to Becfola :

"What is the early rising for, dear
hearth'

''An engagement I have/' she replied.

"This is not a time for engagements," said
the calm monarch.

"Let it be so," she replied, and she dressed
rapidly.

"And what is the engagement?" he
pursued.

"Raiment that I left at a certain place

157

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

and must have. Eight silken smocks em-
broidered with gold, eight precious brooches
of beaten gold, three diadems of pure gold."

"At this hour," said the patient king, "the
bed is better than the road."

"Let it be so," said she.

"And moreover," he continued, "a Sunday
journey brings bad luck."

"Let the luck come that will come," she
answered.

"To keep a cat from cream or a woman
from her gear is not work for a king," said
the monarch severely.

The Ard-Ri could look on all things with
composure, and regard all beings with a
tranquil eye; but it should be known that
there was one deed entirely hateful to him,
and he would pimish its commission with the
very last rigour — this was, a transgression of
the Sunday. During six days of the week all
that could happen might happen, so far as
Dermod was concerned, but on the seventh
day nothing should happen at all if the High
King could restrain it. Had it been possible
he would have tethered the birds to their own
green branches on that day, and forbidden
the clouds to pack the upper world with stir

158

II THE WOOING OF BECFOLA

and colour. These the kmg permitted, with
a tight lip, perhaps, but all else that came
under his hand felt his control.

It was his custom when he arose on the
mom of Sunday to climb to the most elevated
point of Tara, and gaze thence on every side,
so that he might see if any fairies or people
of the Shi were disporting themselves in his
lordship; for he absolutely prohibited the
usage of the earth to these things on the
Sunday, and woe's worth was it for the sweet
being he discovered breaking his law.

We do not know what ill he could do to
the fairies, but during Dermod's reign the
world said its prayers on Sunday and the
Shi folk stayed in their hills.

It may be imagined, therefore, with what
wrath he saw his wife's preparations for her
journey, but, although a king can do every-
thing, what can a husband do ... ? He
rearranged himself for slumber.

"I am no party to this untimely journey,
he said angrily.

"Let it be so," said Becfola.

She left the palace with one maid, and as
she crossed the doorway something happened
to her, but by what means it happened would

159

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

be hard to tell; for in the one pace she
passed out of the palace and out of the world,
and the second step she trod was in Faery,
but she did not know this.

Her intention was to go to Cluain da
chaillech to meet Crimthann, but when she
left the palace she did not remember
Crimthann any more.

To her eye and to the eye of her maid the
world was as it always had been, and the
landmarks they knew were about them.
But the object for which they were travelling
was different, although unknown, and the
people they passed on the roads were im-
known, and were yet people that they knew.

They set out southwards from Tara into
the Duffry of Leinster, and after some time
they came into wild country and went astray.
At last Beef ola halted, saying :

"I do not know where we are."

The maid replied that she also did not
know.

"Yet," said Becfola, "if we continue to
walk straight on we shall arrive somewhere."

They went on, and the maid watered the
road with her tears.

Night drew on them; a grey chill, a grey

160

» THE WOOING OF BECFOLA

silence, and they were enveloped in that chill
and silence; and they began to go in ex-
pectation and terror, for they both knew
and did not know that which they were
bound for.

As they toiled desolately up the rustling
and whispering side of a low hill the maid
chanced to look back, and when she looked
back she screamed and pointed, and clung
to Becfola's ami. Becfola followed the
pomting finger, and saw below a large black
mass that moved jerkily forward.

**Wolves !" cried the maid.

"Run to the trees yonder," her mistress
ordered. "We will climb them and sit
among the branches."

They ran then, the maid moaning and
lamenting all the while.

"I cannot climb a tree," she sobbed, "I
shall be eaten by the wolves."

And that was true.

But her mistress climbed a tree, and drew
by a hand's breadth from the rap and snap
and slaver of those steel jaws. Then, sitting
on a branch, she looked with angry woe at
the straining and snarling horde below, see-
ing many a white fang in those grinning

161

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

jowls, and the smouldering, red blink of
those leaping and prowling eyes.

CHAPTER III

But after some time the moon arose and the
wolves went away, for their leader, a sa-
gacious and crafty chief, declared that as
long as they remained where they were, the
lady would remain where she was; and so,
with a hearty curse on trees, the troop de-
parted.

Becfola had pains in her legs from the
way she had wrapped them about the branch,
but there was no part of her that did not
ache, for a lady does not sit with any ease
upon a tree.

For some time she did not care to come
down from the branch.

"Those wolves may return," she said, "for
their chief is crafty and sagacious, and it is
certain, from the look I caught in his eye as
he departed, that he would rather taste of
me than eat any woman he has met."

She looked carefully in every direction to
see if she might discover them in hiding; she
looked closely and lingeringly at the shadows

162

Ill THE WOOING OF BECFOLA

under distant trees to see if these shadows
moved ; and she listened on every wind to try
if she could distinguish a yap or a yawn or a
sneeze.

But she saw or heard nothing; and little
by little tranquillity crept into her mind,
and she began to consider that a danger
which is past is a danger that may be
neglected.

Yet ere she descended she looked again on
the world of jet and silver that dozed about
her, and she spied a red glimmer among dis-
tant trees.

"There is no danger where there is light,"
she said, and she thereupon came from the
tree and ran in the direction that she had
noted.

In a spot between three great oaks she
came upon a man who was roasting a wild
boar over a fire. She saluted this youth and
sat beside him. But after the first glance
and greeting he did not look at her again,
nor did he speak.

When the boar was cooked he ate of it
and she had her share. Then he arose from
the fire and walked away among the trees.
Becfola followed, feeling ruefully that

163

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

something new to her experience had ar-
rived; "For," she thought, "it is usual that
young men should not speak to me now that
I am the mate of a king, but it is very un-
usual that young men should not look at
me.

But if the young man did not look at her
she looked well at him, and what she saw
pleased her so much that she had no time
for further cogitation. For if Crimthann
had been beautiful, this youth was ten times
more beautiful. The curls on Crimthann's
head had been indeed as a benediction to
the queen's eye, so that she had eaten the
better and slept the sounder for seeing him.
But the sight of this youth left her without
the desire to eat, and, as for sleep, she
dreaded it, for if she closed an eye she would
be robbed of the one delight in time, which
was to look at this young man, and not to
cease looking at him while her eye could peer
or her head could remain upright.

They came to an inlet of the sea all sweet
and calm under the round, silver-flooding
moon, and the young man, with Becfola
treading on his heel, stepped into a boat
and rowed to a high- jutting, pleasant island.

164

Ill THE WOOING OF BECFOLA

There they went inland towards a vast
palace, in which there was no person but
themselves alone, and there the young man
went to sleep, while Becfola sat staring at
him until the unavoidable peace pressed
down her eyelids and she too slumbered.

She was awakened in the morning by a
great shout.

"Come out, Flann, come out, my heart!"

The young man leaped from his couch,
girded on his harness, and strode out.
Three young men met him, each in battle
liamess, and these four advanced to meet
■four other men who awaited them at a little
distance on the lawn. Then these two sets
-of four fought together with every warlike
courtesy but with every warlike severity,
and at the end of that combat there was but
one man standing, and the other seven lay
tossed in death.

Becfola spoke to the youth.

'"Your combat has indeed been gallant,"
she said.

"Alas," he replied, "if it has been a gal-
lant deed it has not been a good one, for my
three brothers are dead and my four nephews
are dead."

165

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"Ah me!" cried Becfola, "why did you
fight that fight?"

"For the lordship of this island, the Isle
of Fedach, son of Dall."

But, although Becfola was moved and
horrified by this battle, it was in another
direction that her interest lay; therefore she
soon asked the question which lay next her
heart :

"Why would you not speak to me or look
at me?"

"Until I have won the kingship of this
land from all claimants, I am no match for
the mate of the High King of Ireland," he
replied.

And that reply was like balm to the heart
of Becfola.

"What shall I do?" she inquired
radiantly.

"Return to your home," he counselled.
"I will escort you there with your maid,
for she is not really dead, and when I have
won my lordship I will go seek you in Tara."

"You will surely come," she insisted.

"By my hand," quoth he, "I will come."

These three returned then, and at the end
of a day and ni^t they saw far off the

166

nr THE WOOING OF BECFOLA

mighty roofs of Tara massed in the morning
haze. The yoimg man left them, and with
many a backward look and with dragging,
reluctant feet, Becfola crossed the threshold
of the palace, wondering what she should
say to Deraiod and how she could accoimt
for an absence of three days' duration.

CHAPTER IV

It was so early that not even a bird was yet
awake, and the dull grey light that came
from the atmosphere enlarged and made in-
distinct all that one looked at, and swathed]
all things in a cold and livid gloom.

As she trod cautiously through dim corri-
dors Becfola was glad that, saving thd
guards no creature was astir, and that for
some time yet she need account to no person
for her movements. She was glad also of a
respite which would enable her to settle into
her home and draw about her the composure
which women feel when they are surrounded
by the walls of their houses, and can see
about them the possessions which, by the fact
of ownership, have become almost a part of
their personality. Sundered from her be-

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

longings, no wcnnan is tranquil, her heart
is not truly at ease, however her mind may
function, so that under the broad sky or in
the house of another she is not the compe-
tent, precise individual which she becomes
when she sees again her household in
order and her dcwnestic requirements at her
hau<J.

. Becfola pushed the door of the king's
sleeping chamber and entered noiselessly.
Then she sat quietly in a seat gazing on the
L recumbent monarch, and prepared to con-
sider how she should advance to him when
he awakened, and with what information
she might stay his inquiries or reproaches.

"I will reproach him," she thought. "I
will call him a bad husband and astonish
him, and he will forget everything but his
own alarm and indignation."

But at that moment the king lifted his
head from the pillow and looked kindly
at her.

Her heart gave a great throb, and she
prepared to speak at once and in great vol-
ume before he could formulate any question.
But the king spoke first, and what he said
so astonished her that the explanation and

168

IV THE WOOING OF BECFOLA

reproach with which her tongue was thrill-
ing fled from it at a stroke, and she could
only sit staring and bewildered and tongue-
tied.

''Well, my dear heart," said the king,
'liave you decided not to keep that engage-
ment?"

"I — ^I !" Becfola stammered.

"It is truly not an hour for engagements,"
Dermod insisted, "for not a bird of the birds
has left his tree; and," he continued ma-
liciously, "the light is such that you could
not see an engagement even if you met one."

"I," Becfola gasped. "I !"

"A Sunday journey," he went on, "is a
notoriously bad journey. No good can come
frocn it. You can get your smocks and dia-
dems to-morrow. But at this hour a wise
person leaves engagements to the bats and
the staring owls and the round-eyed crea-
tures that prowl and sniff in the dark. Come
back to the warm bed, sweet woman, and set
out on your journey in the morning."

Such a load of apprehension was lifted
from Becfola' s heart that she instantly did
as she had been commanded, and such a be-
wilderment had yet possession of her facul-

169

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

ties that she could not thmk or utter a word
on any subject.

Yet the thought did come into her head as
she stretched in the warm glocnn that Crim-
thann the son of Ae must be now attending
her at Cluain da chaillech, and she thought
of that young man as of something wonder-
ful and very ridiculous, and the fact that he
was waiting for her troubled her no more
than if a sheep had been waiting for her or
a roadside bush.

She fell asleep.

CHAPTER V

In the morning as they sat at breakfast four
clerics were announced, and when they
entered the king looked on them with stem
disapproval.

"What is the meaning of this journey on
Sunday?" he demanded.

A lank-jawed, thin-browed brother, with
uneasy, intertwining fingers, and a deep-set,
venomous eye, was the spokesman of those
four.

"Indeed," he said, and the fingers of his
right hand strangled and did to death the

170

V THE WOOING OF BECFOLA

lingers of his left hand, "indeed, we have
transgressed by order."

"Explain that."

"We have been sent to you hurriedly by
our master, Molasius of Devenish."

"A pious, a saintly man," the king inter-
rupted, "and one who does not countenance
transgressions of the Simday."

"We were ordered to tell you as follows,"
said the grim cleric, and he buried the fingers
of his right hand in his left fist, so that one
could not hope to see them resurrected
again:

"It was the duty of one of the Brothers
of Devenish," he continued, "to turn out the
cattle this morning before the dawn of day,
and that Brother, while in his duty, saw
eight comely young men who fought to-
gether."

"On the morning of Sunday," Dermod
exploded.

The cleric nodded with savage emphasis.

"On the morning of this self-same and
instant sacred day."

"Tell on," said the king wrathfuUy.

But terror gripped with sudden fingers at
Becfola's heart.

171

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"Do not tell horrid stories on the Sun-
day," she pleaded. "No good can come to
any one from such a tale."

"Nay, this must be told, sweet lady," said
the king.

But the cleric stared at her glumly, forbid-
dingly, and resumed his story at a gesture.

"Of these eight men, seven were killed."

"They are in hell," the king said gloomily.

"In hell they are," the cleric replied with
enthusiasm.

"And the one that was not killed?"

"He is alive," that cleric responded.

"He would be," the monarch assented.
"Tell your tale."

"Molasius had those seven miscreants
buried, and he took from their unhallowed
necks and from their lewd arms and from
their imblessed weapons the load of two men
in gold and silver treasure."

"Two men's load!" said Dermod thought-
fully.

"That much," said the lean cleric. "No
more, no less. And he has sent us to find
out what part of that hellish treasure be-
longs to the Brothers of Devenish and how
much is the property of the king.'

172

V THE WOOING OF BECFOLA

Becfola again broke in, speaking gra-
ciously, regally, hastily:

"Let those Brothers have the entire of the
treasure, for it is Sunday treasure, and as
such it will bring no luck to any one."

The cleric again looked at her coldly, with
a harsh-lidded, small-set, grey-eyed glare,
and waited for the king's reply.

Dermod pondered, shaking his head as to
an argument on his left side, and then nod-
ding it again as to an argument on his
right.

"It shall be done as this sweet queen ad-
vises. Let a reliquary be formed with cun-
ning workmanship of that gold and silver,
dated with my date and signed with my
name, to be in memory of my grandmother
who gave birth to a lamb, to a salmon, and
then to my father, the Ard-Ri. And, as td
the treasure that remains over, a pastoral
staff may be beaten from it in honour of
Molasius, the pious man."

"The story is not ended," said that glum,
spike-chinned cleric.

The king moved with jovial impatience.

"If you continue it," he said, "it will
surely ccwne to an end some time. A stone

173

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

on a stone makes a house, dear heart, and a
word on a word tells a tale."

The cleric wrapped himself into himself,
and became lean and menacing.

He whispered:

"Besides the young man, named Flann,
who was not slain, there was another person
present at the scene and the combat and the
transgression of Sunday."

"Who was that person?" said the
alarmed monarch.

The cleric spiked forward his chin, and
then butted forward his brow.

"It was the wife of the king," he shouted.
"It was the woman called Becfola. It was
that woman," he roared, and he extended a
lean, inflexible, unending first finger at the
queen.

"Dog!" the king stammered, starting
up.

"If that be in truth a woman," the cleric
screamed.

"What do you mean?" the king demanded
in wrath and terror.

"Either she is a woman of this world to
be punished, or she is a woman of the Shi
to be banished, but this holy morning she

174

V THE WOOING OF BECFOLA

was in the Shi, and her arms were about the
neck of Flann.

The king sank back in his chair stupefied,
gazing from one to the other, and then
turned an imseeing, fear-dimmed eye to-
wards Becfola.

*Ts this true, my pulse?" he murmured.

"It is true," Becfola replied, and she be-
came suddenly to the king's eye a whiteness
and a stare.

He pointed to the door.

"Go to your engagement," he stammered.
"Go to that Flann."

"He is waiting for me," said Becfola with
proud shame, "and the thought that he
should wait wrings my heart."

She went out from the palace then. She
went away from Tara: and in all Ireland,
and in the world of living men she was not
seen again, and she was never heard of again.

175

THE LITTLE BRAWL AT

ALLEN

CHAPTER I

"I THINK,'' said Cairell Whiteskin, "that
V although judgement was given against
Fionn, it was Fionn had the rights of it."

"He had eleven hundred killed," said
Conan amiably, "and you may call that the
rights of it if you like."

"All the same " Cairell began argu-

mentatively.

"And it was you that commenced it,"
Conan continued.

"Ho! ho!" Cairell cried. "Why, you
are as much to blame as I am."

"No," said Conan, "for you hit me first.

"And if we had not been separated —
the other growled.

176

CH. I THE LITTLE BRAWL AT ALLEN

"Separated !" said Conan, with a grin that
made his beard poke all around his face.

"Yes, separated. If they had not come
between ns I still think "

"Don't think out loud, dear heart, for you
and I are at peace by law."

"That is true," said Cairell, "and a man
must stick by a judgement. Come with me,
my dear, and let us see how the youngsters
are shaping in the school. One of them has .
rather a way with him as a swordsman." y

"No yoimgster is any good with a sword,"
Conan replied.

"You are right there," said Cairell. "It
takes a good ripe man for that weapon."

"Boys are good enough with slings,"
Conan continued, "but except for eating
their fill and nmning away from a fight, you
can't count on boys."

The two bulky men turned towards the
school of the Fianna.

It happened that Fionn mac Uail had
summoned the gentlemen of the Fianna and
their wives to a banquet. Everybody came,
for a banquet given by Fionn was not a thing
to be missed. There was GoU Mor mac

177

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

Moma and his people; Fionn's son Oism
and his grandson Oscar. There was Dermod
of the Gay Face, Caelte mac Ronan — ^but
indeed there were too many to be told of, for
all the pillars of war and battle-torches of
the Gael were there.

The banquet began.

Fionn sat in the Chief Captain's seat in
the middle of the fort; and facing him, in
the place of honour, he placed the mirthful
Goll mac Moma; and from these, ranging
on either side, the nobles of the Fianna took
each the place that fitted his degree and
patrimony.

After good eating, good conversation, and
after good conversation, sleep — that is the
order of a banquet : so when each person had
been served with food to the limit of desire
the butlers carried in shining and jewelled
drinking-horns, each having its tide of
smooth, heady liquor. Then the young
heroes grew merry and audacious, the ladies
became gentle and kind, and the poets be-
came wonders of knowledge and prophecy.
Every eye beamed in that assembly, and on
Fionn every eye was turned continually in the
hope of a glance from the great, mild hero.

178

I THE LITTLE BRAWL AT ALLEN

Goll spoke to him across the table en-
thusiastically.

"There is nothing wanting to this ban-
quet, O Chief," said he.

And Fionn smiled back into that eye
which seemed a well of tenderness and
friendship.

"Nothing is wanting," he replied, "but
a well-shaped poem."

A crier stood up then, holding in one hand /
a length of coarse iron links and in the other
a chain of delicate antique silver. He shook
the iron chain so that the servants and fol-
lowers of the household should be silent, and
he shook the silver one so that the nobles and
poets should hearken also.

Fergus, called True-Lips, the poet of the
Fianna-Finn, then sang of Fionn and his
ancestors and their deeds. When he had
finished Fionn and Oisin and Oscar and mac
Lugac of the Terrible Hand gave him rare
and costly presents, so that every person
wondered at their munificence, and even the
poet, accustomed to the liberality of kings
and princes, was astonished at his gifts.

Fergus then turned to the side of Goll mac
Moma, and he sang of the Forts, the De-

179

IRISH FAIRY TALES ca

stnictions, the Raids, and the Wooings of
clann-Moma; and as the poems succeeded
each other, GoU grew more and more jovial
and contented.

When the songs were finished GoU turned
in his seat.

"Where is my runner?" he cried.
yj He had a woman runner, a marvel for
swiftness and trust.

She stepped forward.

"I am here, royal captain."

"Have you collected my tribute frcMii
Denmark?"

"It is here."

And, with help, she laid beside him the
load of three men of doubly refined gold.
Out of this treasure, and from the treasure
of rings and bracelets and torques that were
with him, Goll mac Morna paid Fergus for
his songs, and, much as Fionn had given,
Goll gave twice as much.

But, as the banquet proceeded, Goll gave,
whether it was to harpers or prophets or
jugglers, more than any one else gave, so
that Fionn became displeased, and as the
banquet proceeded he grew stem and
silent.

180

n THE UTTLE BRAWL AT ALLE

CHAPTER n^

The wonderful gift-giving of GoU contin-
ued, and an uneasiness and embarrassment
began to creep throu^ the great banqueting
hall.

Gentlemen looked at each other questicm-
ingly, and then spoke again aa indifferent
matters, but only with half of their minds.
The singers, the harpers, and jugglers sub-
mitted to that constraint, so that every per-
son felt awkward and no (me knew what
should be done or what would happen, and
from that doubt dulness came, with silence
following oa its heels.

There is nothing more terrible than
silence. Shame grows in that blank, or
anger gathers there, and we must choose
which of these is to be our master.

That choice lay before Fionn, who never
knew shame.

"GoU," said he, *Tiow long have you been
taking tribute frcxn the people of Loch-
lann?"

"A long time now," said Goll.

^This version of the death of Uail is not correct Also
Cnocha is not in Lodilann but in Ireland.

181

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

And he looked into an eye that was stem
and unfriendly.

"I thought that my rent was the only one
those people had to pay/* Fionn continued.

"Your memory is at fault," said GoU.

"Let it be so," said Fionn. "How did
your tribute arise?"

"Long ago, Fionn, in the days when your
father forced war on me."

"Ah!" said Fionn.

"When he raised the High King against
me and banished me from Ireland."

"Continue," said Fionn, and he held
GoU's eye under the great beetle of his brow.

"I went into Britain," said GoU, "and
your father followed me there. I went into
White Lochlann (Norway) and took it.
Your father banished me thence also."

"I know it," said Fionn.

"I went into the land of the Saxons and
your father chased me out of that land. And
then, in Lochlann, at the battle of Cnocha,
your father and I met at last, foot to foot,
eye to eye, and there, Fionn!"

"And there, Goll?"

"And there I killed your father."

Fionn sat rigid and luunoving, his face

182

II THE LITTLE BRAWL AT ALLEN

stony and terrible as the face of a monument
carved on the side of a cliff.

"Tell all your tale," said he-

"At that battle I beat the Lochlannachs.
I penetrated to the hold of the Danish king,
and I took out of his dimgeon the men who
had lain there for a year and were awaiting
their deaths. I liberated fifteen prisoners,
and one of them was Fionn.

"It is trae," said Fionn.

GoU's anger fled at the word.

"Do not be jealous of me, dear heart, for
if I had twice the tribute I would give it to
you and to Ireland."

But at the word jealous the Chiefs anger
revived.

"It is an impertinence," he cried, "to boast
at this table that you killed my father."

"By my hand," Goll replied, "if Fionif
were to treat me as his father did I would
treat Fionn the way I treated Fionn' s father.

Fionn closed his eyes and beat away the
anger that was rising within him. He
smiled grimly.

"If I were so minded, I would not let that
last word go with you, Goll, for I have here
an himdred men for every man of yours.'

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

Goll laughed aloud.

"So had your father," he said.

Fionn's brother, Cairell Whiteskin, broke
mto the conversation with a harsh laugh.

"How many of Fionn's household has the
wonderful Goll put down?" he cried.

But GoU's brother, bald Conan the
Swearer, turned a savage eye on Cairell.

"By my weapons," said he, "there were
never less than an hundred-and-one men
with Goll, and the least of them could have
put you down easily enough."

"Ah!" cried Cairell. "And are you one
of the hundred-and-one, old scaldhead?"

"One indeed, my thick-witted, thin-
livered Cairell, and I undertake to prove
on your hide that what my brother said was
true and that what your brother said was
false."

"You undertake that," growled Cairell,
and on the word he loosed a furious buffet at
Conan, which Conan returned with a fist so
big that every part of Cairell's face was hit
with the one blow. The two then fell into
grips, and went lurching and punching about
the great hall. Two of Oscar's sons could
not bear to see their imcle being worsted,

184

II THE LITTLE BRAWL AT ALLEN

and they leaped at Conan, and two of GroU's
sons rushed at them. Then Oscar himself
leaped up, and with a hammer in either hand
he went battering into the melee.

"I thank the gods," said Conan, "for the
chance of killing yourself, Oscar."

These two encoimtered then, and Oscar
knocked a groan of distress out of Conan.
He looked appealingly at his brother Art Og
mac Moma, and that powerful champion
flew to his aid and wounded Oscar. Oisin,
Oscar's father, could not abide that; he
dashed in and quelled Art Og. Then Rough
Hair mac Morna wounded Oisin and was
himself tumbled by mac Lugac, who was
again woimded by Garra mac Morna.

The banqueting hall was in tumult. In
every part of it men were giving and taking
blows. Here two champions with their
arms roimd each other's neck were stamping
roimd and roimd in a slow, sad dance. Here
were two crouching against each other, look-
ing for a soft place to hit. Yonder a big-
shouldered person lifted another man in his
arms and threw him at a small group that
charged him. In a retired comer a gentle-
man stood in a thoughtful attitude while he

185

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

tried to pull out a tooth that had been
knocked loose.

"You can't fight," he mumbled, "with a
loose shoe or a loose tooth."

"Hurry up with that tooth," the man in
front of him grumbled, "for I want to knock
out another one."

Pressed against the wall was a bevy of
ladies, some of whom were screaming and
some laughing, and all of whom were calling
on the men to go back to their seats.

Only two people remained seated in the
hall.

GoU sat twisted round watching the prog*
ress of the brawl critically, and Fionn, sit-
ting opposite, watched Goll.

Just then Faelan, another of Fionn's sons,
storaied the hall with three hundred of the
Fianna, and by this force all Goll's people
were put out of doors, where the fight con-
tinued.

Goll looked then calmly on Fionn.

"Your people are using their weapons,"
said he.

"Are they?" Fionn inquired as calmly,
and as though addressing the air.

186

II THE LITTLE BRAWL AT ALLEN

"In the matter of weapons !" said

GolL

And the hard-fighting pillar of battle
turned to where his arms hung on the wall
behind him. He took his solid, well-
balanced sword in his fist, over his left arm
his ample, bossy shield, and, with another
side-look at Fionn, he left the hall and
charged irresistibly into the fray.

Fionn then arose. He took his accoutre-
ments from the wall also and strode out.
Then he raised the triumphant Fenian shout
and went into the combat.

That was no place for a sick person to be.
It was not the comer which a slender-
fingered woman would choose to do up her
hair; nor was it the spot an ancient man
would select to think quietly in, for the
tumult of sword on sword, of axe on shield,
the roar of the contending parties, the crying
of woimded men, and the screaming of
frightened women destroyed peace, and over
all was the rallying cry of Goll mac Moma
and the great shout of Fionn.

Then Fergus True-Lips gathered about
him all the poets of the Fianna, and they

187

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

surrounded the combatants. They began to
chant and intone long, heavy rhymes and
incantations, imtil the rhjrthmic beating of
their voices covered even the noise of war,
so that the men stopped hacking and hewing,
and let their weapons drop from their hands.
These were picked up by the poets and a
reconciliation was effected between the two
parties.

But Fionn affirmed that he would make
no peace with clann-Moma until the matter
had been judged by the king, Cormac mac
Art, and by his daughter Ailve, and by his
son Cairbre of Ana Life, and by Fintan the
chief poet. GoU agreed that the affair
should be submitted to that court, and a day
was appointed, a fortnight from that date,
to meet at Tara of the Kings for judgement.
Then the hall was cleansed and the banquet
recommenced.

Of Fionn's people eleven hundred of men
and women were dead, while of Goll's people
eleven men and fifty women were dead.
But it was through fright the women died,
for not one of them had a woimd or a bruise
or a mark.

188

Ill THE UTTLE BRAWL AT ALLEN

CHAPTER III

At the end of a fortnight Fionn and GoU
and the chief men of the Fianna attended at
Tara. The king, his son and daughter, with
Flahri, Feehal, and Fintan mac Bocna, sat
in the place of judgement, and Cormac called
on the witnesses for evidence.

Fionn stood up, but the moment he did
so GoU mac Moma arose also.

"I object to Fionn giving evidence,"
said he.

"Why so?" the king asked.

"Because in any matter that concerned
me Fionn would turn a lie into truth and the
truth into a lie."

"I do not think that is so," said Fionn.

"You see, he has already commenced it,"
cried Goll.

"If you object to the testimony of the
chief person present, in what way are we to
obtain evidence?" the king demanded.

"I," said Goll, "will trust to the evidence
of Fergus True-Lips. He is Fionn's poet,
and will tell no lie against his master; he is
a poet, and will tell no lie against any one."

189

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"I agree to that," said Fionn.

"I require, nevertheless," GoU continued,
"that Fergus should swear before the Court,
by his gods, that he will do justice between
us."

Fergus was accordingly sworn, and gave
his evidence.

He stated that Fionn's brother Cairell
struck Conan mac Morna, that Goll's two
sons came to help Conan, that Oscar went
to help Cairell, and with that Fionn's people
and the clann-Moma rose at each other, and
what had started as a brawl ended as a battle
with eleven hundred of Fionn's people and
sixty-one of GoU's people dead.

"I marvel," said the king in a discontented
voice, "that, considering the numbers against
them, the losses of clann-Morna should be
so small."

Fionn blushed when he heard that.

Fergus replied:

"Goll mac Morna covered his people with
his shield. All that slaughter was done by
him."

"The press was too great," Fionn grum-
bled. "I could not get at him in time

190

m THE LITTLE BRAWL AT ALLEN

"Or what?" said GoU with a great laugh.

Fionn shook his head sternly and said no
more.

"What is your judgement?" Cormac de-
manded of his fellow- judges.

Flahri pronounced first.

"I give damages to clann-Moraa."

"Why?" said Cormac.

"Because they were attacked first."

G)rmac looked at him stubbornly.

"I do not agree with your judgement," he
said.

"What is there faulty in it?" Flahri
asked.

"You have not considered," the king re-
plied, "that a soldier owes obedience to his
captain, and that, given the time and the
place, Fionn was the captain and GoU was
only a simple soldier."

Flahri considered the king's suggestion.

"That," he said, "would hold good for the
white-striking or blows of fists, but not for
the red-striking or sword-strokes."

"What is your judgement?" the king
asked Feehal.

Feehal then pronoimced:

"I hold that clann-Moma were attacked

191

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

first, and that they are to be free from pay-
ment of damages."

"And as regards Fionn?" said Cormac.

"I hold that on accoimt of his great losses
Fionn is to be exempt from payment of
damages, and that his losses are to be con-
sidered as damages."

"I agree in that judgement," said Fintan.

The king and his son also agreed, and the
decision was imparted to the Fianna.

"One must abide by a judgement," said
Fionn.

"Do you abide by it?" GoU demanded.

"I do," said Fionn.

GoU and Fionn then kissed each other,
and thus peace was made. For, notwith-
standing the endless bicker of these two
heroes, they loved each other well.

Yet, now that the years have gone by, I
think the fault lay with Goll and not with
Fionn, and that the judgement given did not
consider everything. For at that table Goll
/ should not have given greater gifts than his
master and host did. And it was not right
of Goll to take by force the position of
greatest gift-giver of the Fianna, for there

192

Ill THE LITTLE BRAWL AT ALLEN

was never in the world one greater at giv-
ing gifts, or giving battle, or making poems
than Fionn was.

That side of the affair was not brought
before the Court. But perhaps it was sup-
pressed out of delicacy for Fionn, for if GoU
could be accused of ostentation, Fionn was
open to the uglier charge of jealousy. It
was, nevertheless, GoU's forward and impish
temper which commenced the brawl, and the
verdict of time must be to exonerate Fionri
and to let the blame go where it is merited.

There is, however, this to be added and
remembered, that whenever Fionn was in a
tight comer it was GoU that plucked him out
of it ; and, later on, when time did his worst
on them all and the Fianna were sent to hell
as unbelievers, it was GoU mac Moma who
assaulted hell, with a chain in his great fist
and three iron balls swinging from it, and it
was he who attacked the hosts of great devils
and brought Fionn and the Fianna-Finn out
with him.

193

THE CARL OF THE
DRAB COAT

CHAPTER I

One day something happened to Fionn, the
son of Uail; that is, he departed {rocn the
world of men, and was set wandering in
great distress of mind through Faery. He
had days and nights there and adventures
there, and was able to bring back the mem-
ory of these.

That, by itself, is wonderful, for there are
few people who remember that they have
been to Faery or aught of all that happened
to them in that state.

In truth we do not go to Faery, we bec(Hne
Faery, and in the beating of a pulse we may
live for a year or a thousand years. But
when we return the memory is quickly
clouded, and we seem to have had a dream

194

CH. I THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT

or seen a vision, although we have verily
been in Faery.

It was wonderful, then, that Fionn should
have remembered all that happened to him
in that wide-spun moment, but in this tale
there is yet more to marvel at ; for not only
did Fionn go to Faery, but the great army
which he had marshalled to Ben Edair^
were translated also, and neither he nor they
were aware that they had departed from the
world until they came back to it.

Fourteen battles, seven of the reserve and
seven of the regular Fianna, had been taken
by the Chief on a great march and manoeuvre.
When they reached Ben Edair it was decided
to pitch camp so that the troops might rest in
view of the warlike plan which Fionn had
imagined for the morrow. The camp was
chosen, and each squadron and company of
the host was lodged into an appropriate
place, so there was no overcrowding and no
halt or interruption of the march ; for where
a company halted that was its place of rest,
and in that place it hindered no other com-
pany, and was at its own ease.

^ The Hill of Howth.

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

When this was accomplished the leaders
of battalions gathered on a level, grassy
plateau overlooking the sea, where a consul-
tation began as to the next day's manoeuvres,
and during this discussion they looked often
on the wide water that lay wrinkling and
twinkling below them.

A roomy ship under great press of sail was
bearing on Ben Edair from the east.

Now and again, in a lull of the discussion,
a champion would look and remark on the
hurrying vessel ; and it may have been during
one of these moments that the adventure
happened to Fionn and the Fianna.

"I wonder where that ship comes frcHn?"
said Conan idly.

But no person could surmise anything
about it beyond that it was a vessel well
equipped for war.

As the ship drew by the shore the watchers
observed a tall man swing from the side by
means of his spear shafts, and in a little
while this gentleman was annoimced to
Fionn, and was brought into his presence.

A sturdy, bellicose, forthright personage
he was indeed. He was equipped in a won-
derful solidity of armour, with a hard,

196

I THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT

carven helmet on his head, a splendid red-
bossed shield swinging on his shoulder, a
wide-grooved, straight sword clashing along
his thigh. On his shoulders under the shield
he carried a splendid scarlet mantle; over
his breast was a great brooch of burnt gold,
and in his fist he gripped a pair of thick-
shafted, unbumished spears.

Fionn and the champions looked on this
gentleman, and they admired exceedingly his
bearing and equipment.

"Of what blood are you, young gentle-
man?" Fionn demanded, "and from which
of the four comers of the world do you
ccMne?"

"My name is Gael of the Iron," the
stranger answered, "and I am son to the
King of Thessaly."

"What errand has brought you here?"

"I do not go on errands," the man replied >
sternly, "but on the affairs that please me."^

"Be it so. What is the pleasing affair
which brings you to this land?"

"Since I left my own coimtry I have not
gone from a land or an island until it paid ,
tribute to me and acknowledged my lord-
ship."

197

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"And you have come to this realm "

cried Fiomi, doubting his ears.

"For tribute and sovereignty," growled
that other, and he strack the haft of his spear
violently on the ground.

"By my hand," said Conan, "we have
never heard of a warrior, however great, but
his peer was found in Ireland, and the fu-
neral songs of all such have been chanted by
the women of this land."

"By my hand and word," said the harsh
stranger, "your talk makes me think of a
small boy or of an idiot."

"Take heed, sir," said Fionn, "for the
champions and great dragons of the Gael are
standing by you, and around us there are
fourteen battles of the Fianna of Ireland."

"If all the Fianna who have died in the
last seven years were added to all that are
now here," the stranger asserted, "I would
treat all of these and those grievously, and
would curtail their limbs and their lives."

"It is no small boast," Conan murmured,
staring at him.

"It is no boast at all," said Gael, "and,
to show my quality and standing, I will pro-
pose a deed to you."

198

I THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT

"Give out your deed," Fionn commanded.

"Thus," said Gael with cold savagery.
"If you can find a man among your four-
teen battalions who can outrun or outwrestle
or outfight me, I will take myself off to my
own country, and will trouble you no
more."

And so harshly did he speak, and with
such a belligerent eye did he stare that dis-
may began to seize on the champions, and
even Fionn felt that his breath had halted.

"It is spoken like a hero," he admitted
after a moment, "and if you cannot be ^
matched on those terms it will not be from a
dearth of applicants."

"In ruiming alone," Fionn continued
thoughtfully, "we have a notable champion,
Caelte mac Ronan."

"This son of Ronan will not long be
notable," the stranger asserted.

"He can outstrip the red deer," said
Conan.

"He can outrun the wind," cried Fionn.

"He will not be asked to outrun the red
deer or the wind," the stranger sneered.
"He will be asked to outrun me," he thun-
dered. "Produce this nmner, and we shall

199

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

discover if he keeps as great heart in his feet
as he has made you think."

"He is not with us," Conan lamented.

"These notable warriors are never with us
when the call is made," said the grim
stranger.

"By my hand," cried Fionn, "he shall be
here in no great time, for I will fetch him
myself."

"Be it so," said Gael.

"And during my absence^" Fionn con-
tinued, "I leave this as a compact, that you
make friends with the Fianna here present,
and that you observe all the conditions and
ceremonies of friendship."

Gael agreed to that.

"I will not hurt any of these people imtil
you return," he said.

Fionn then set out towards Tara of the
Kings, for he thought Gaelte mac Ronan
would surely be there; "and if he is not
there," said the champion to himself, "then
I shall find him at Gesh Gorran of the
Fianna."

200

n THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT

CHAPTER II

He had not gone a great distance from Ben
Edair when he came to an intricate, gloomy
wood, where the trees grew so thickly and
the undergrowth was such a sprout and
tangle that one could scarcely pass through
it. He remembered that a path had once
been hacked through the wood, and he sought
for this. It was a deeply scooped, hollow
way, and it ran or wriggled through the en-
tire length of the wood.

Into this gloomy drain Fionn descended
and made progress, but when he had pene-
trated deeply in the dank forest he heard a
sound of thumping and squelching footsteps,
and he saw coming towards him a horrible,
evil-visaged being; a wild, monstrous,
yellow-skinned, big-boned giant, dressed in
nothing but an ill-made, mud-plastered,
drab-coloured coat, which swaggled and
clapped against the calves of his big bare
legs. On his stamping feet there were great
brogues of boots that were shaped like, but
were bigger than, a boat, and each time he
put a foot down it squashed and squirted a
barrelful of mud from the sunk road.

201

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

Fionn had never seen the like of this vast
person, and he stood gazing on him, lost in
a stare of astonishment.

The great man saluted him.

"All alone, Fionn !" he cried. "How does
it happen that not one Fenian of the Fianna
is at the side of his captain?"

At this inquiry Fionn got back his wits.

"That is too long a story and it is too
intricate and pressing to be told, also I have
no time to spare now."

"Yet tell it now," the monstrous man
insisted.

Fionn, thus pressed, told of the coming of
Gael of the Iron, of the challenge the latter
had issued, and that he, Fionn, was off to
Tara of the Kings to find Caelte mac Ronan.

"I know that foreigner well," the big man
commented.

"Is he the champion he makes himself out
to be?" Fionn inquired.

"He can do twice as much as he said he
would do," the monster replied.

"He won't outrun Caelte mac Ronan,"
Fionn asserted.

The big man jeered.

"Say that he won't outrun a hedgehog,

202

II THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT

dear heart. This Gael will end the course
by the time your Caelte begins to think of
starting."

"Then," said Fionn, "I no longer know
where to turn, or how to protect the honour
of Ireland."

"I know how to do these things," the
other man commented with a slow nod of
the head.

"If you do," Fionn pleaded, "tell it to me
upon your honour."

"I will do that," the man replied.

"Do not look any farther for the rusty-
kneed, slow-trotting son of Ronan," he con-
tinued, *l3ut ask me to run your race, and, by
this hand, I will be first at the post."

At this the Chief began to laugh —

"My good friend, you have work enough
to carry the two tons of mud that are plas-
tered on each of your coat-tails, to say noth-
ing of your weighty boots."

"By my hand," the man cried, "there is no
person in Ireland but myself can win that
race. I claim a chance."

Fionn agreed then.

"Be it so," said he. "And now, tell me
your name?"

203

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

"I am known as the Carl of the Drab
Coat."

"All names are names," Fionn responded,
"and that also is a name."

They returned then to Ben Edair.

CHAPTER III

When they came among the host of men of
Ireland gathered about the vast stranger;
and there were some who hid their faces in
their mantles so that they should not be seen
to laugh, and there were some who rolled
along the ground in merriment, and there
were others who could only hold their
mouths open and crook their knees and hang
their arms and stare dumbfoundedly upon
the stranger, as though they were utterly
dazed.

Cael of the Iron came also on the scene,
and he examined the stranger with close and
particular attention.

"What in the name of the devil is this
thing?" he asked of Fionn.

"Dear heart," said Fionn, "this is the
champion I am putting against you in ttie

race."

204

Ill THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT

Gael of the Iron grew purple in the face,
and he almost swallowed his tongue through
wrath.

"Until the end of eternity," he roared,
"and until the very last moment of doom I
will not move one foot in a race with this
greasy, big-hoofed, ill-assembled resem-
blance of a beggaraian."

But at this the Carl burst into a roar of
laughter, so that the ear-drums of the war-
riors present almost burst inside of their heads.

"Be reassured, my darling, I am no beggar-
man, and my quality is not more gross than
is the blood of the most delicate prince in
this assembly. You will not evade your
challenge in that way, my love, and you shall
run with me or you shall nm to your ship
with me behind you. What length of course
do you propose, dear heart?"

"I never run less than sixty miles," Gael
replied sullenly.

"It is a small nm," said the Garl, "but
it will do. From this place to the Hill of
the Rushes, Slieve Luachra of Munster, is
exactly sixty miles. Will that suit you?"

"I don't care how it is done," Gael
answered.

205

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"Then," said the Carl, "we may go off to
Slieve Luachra now, and in the morning we
can start our race there to here."
"Let it be done that way," said CaeL
These two set out then for Munster, and
as the sun was setting they reached Slieve
Luachra and prepared to spend the night
there.

CHAPTER IV

"Cael, my pulse," said the Carl, "we had
better build a house or a hut to pass the
night in."

"I'll build nothing," Cael replied, looking
on the Carl with great disfavour.

"No!"

"I won't build house or hut for the sake
of passing one night here, for I hope never to
see this place again."

"I'll build a house myself," said the Carl,
"and the man who does not help in the
building can stay outside of the house."

The Carl stumped to a near-by wood, and
he never rested until he had felled and tied
together twenty-four couples of big timber.
He thrast these under one arm and under

206

IV THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT

the other he tucked a bundle of rushes for his
bed, and with that one load he rushed up a
house, well thatched and snug, and with the
timber that remained over he made a bonfire
on the floor of the house.

His companion sat at a distance regarding
the work with rage and aversion.

"Now, Cael, my darling," said the Carl,
"if you are a man help me to look for some-
thing to eat, for there is game here."

"Help yourself," roared Cael, "for all
that I want is not to be near you."

"The tooth that does not help gets no
helping," the other replied.

In a short time the Carl returned with a
wild boar which he had nm down. He
cooked the beast over his bonfire and ate one
half of it, leaving the other half for his
breakfast. Then he lay down on the rushes,
and in two turns he fell asleep.

But Cael lay out on the side of the hill,
and if he went to sleep that night he slept
fasting.

It was he, however, who awakened the
Carl in the morning.

"Get up, beggaraian, if you are going to
nm against me."

207

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

The Carl rubbed his eyes.

"I never get up until I have had my fill of
sleep, and there is another hour of it due to
me. But if you are in a hurry, my delight,
you can start running now with a blessing.
I will trot on your track when I waken up."

Gael began to race then, and he was glad
of the start, for his antagonist made so little
account of him that he did not know what to
expect when the Carl would begin to run.

"Yet," said Cael to himself, "with an
hour's start the beggarman will have to move
his bones if he wants to catch on me," and
he settled down to a good, pelting race.

CHAPTER V

At the end of an hour the Carl awoke. He
ate the second half of the boar, and he tied
the unpicked bones in the tail of his coat.
Then with a great rattling of the boar's bones
he started.

It is hard to tell how he ran or at what
speed he ran, but he went forward in great
two-legged jumps, and at times he moved in
immense one-legged, mud-spattering hops,
and at times again, with wide-stretched, far-

208

V THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT

flung, terrible-tramping, space-destroying
legs he ran.

He left the swallows behind as if they
were asleep. He caught up on a red deer,
jumped over it, and left it standing. The
wind was always behind him, for he outran
it every time; and he caught up in jumps
and bounces on Cael of the Iron, although
Gael was running well, with his fists up and
his head back and his two legs flying in and
out so vigorously that you could not see them
because of that speedy movement.

Trotting by the side of Cael, the Carl
thrust a hand into the tail of his coat and
pulled out a fistful of red bones.

"Here, my heart, is a meaty bone," said
he, "for you fasted all night, poor friend,
and if you pick a bit off the bone your
stcxnach will get a rest."

"Keep your filth, beggarman," the other
replied, "for I would rather be hanged than
gnaw on a bone that you have browsed."

"Why don't you run, my pulse?" said
the Carl earnestly; "why don't you try to
win the race?"

Cael then began to move his limbs as if
they were the wings of a fly, or the fins of a

209

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

little fish, or as if they were the six legs of a
terrified spider.

"I am running," he gasped.

"But try and run like this," the Carl ad-
monished, and he gave a wriggling boimce
and a sudden outstretching and scurrying of
shanks, and he disappeared from Gael's sight
in one wild spatter of big boots.

Despair fell on Gael of the Iron, but he
had a great heart.

"I will run until I burst," he shrieked,
"and when I burst, may I burst to a great
distance, and may I trip that beggaraian up
with my bursting and make him break his
leg."

He settled then to a determined, savage,
implacable trot.

He caught up on the Garl at last, for the
latter had stopped to eat blackberries from
the bushes on the road, and when he drew
nigh, Gael began to jeer and sneer angrily at
the Garl.

"Who lost the tails of his coat?" he
roared.

"Don't ask riddles of a man that's eating
blackberries," the Garl rebuked him.

210

V THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT

"The dog without a tail and the coat
without a tail," cried Cael.

"I give it up," the Carl mumbled.

"It's yourself, beggarman," jeered Cael.

"I am myself," the Carl gurgled through
a mouthful of blackberries, "and as I am
myself, how can it be myself? That is a
silly riddle," he burbled.

"Look at your coat, tub of grease !"

The Carl did so.

"My faith," said he, "where arc the two
tails of my coat?"

"I could smell one of them and it wrapped
ZTOxmd a little tree thirty miles back," said
Cael, "and the other one was dishonouring
a bush ten miles behind that."

"It is bad luck to be separated from the
tails of your own coat," the Carl grumbled.
"I'll have to go back for them. Wait here,
beloved, and eat blackberries until I come
back, and we'll both start fair."

"Not half a second will I wait," Cael
replied, and he began to nm towards Ben
Edair as a lover runs to his maiden or as a
bee flies to his hive.

"I haven't had half my share of black-

211

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

berries either," the Carl lamented as he
started to run backwards for his coat-tails.

He ran determinedly on that backward
journey, and as the path he had travelled was
beaten out as if it had been trampled by an
hundred bulls yoked neck to neck, he was
able to find the two bushes and the two
coat-tails. He sewed them on his coat.

Then he sprang up, and he took to a fit
and a vortex and an exasperation of running
for which no description may be found. The
thumping of his big boots grew as continuous
as the pattering of hailstones on a roof, and
the wind of his passage blew trees down.
The beasts that were ranging beside his path
dropped dead from concussion, and the
steam that snored from his nose blew birds
into bits and made great lumps of cloud fall
out of the sky.

He again caught up on Cael, who was
running with his head down and his toes
up.

"If you won't try to run, my treasure,
said the Carl, "you will never get your
tribute."

And with that he incensed and exploded
himself into an eye-blinding, continuous

212

VI THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT

waggle and complexity of boots, that left
Gael behind him in a flash.

"I will nm until I burst," sobbed Gael,
and he screwed agitation and despair into
his legs until he hummed and buzzed like a
blue-bottle on a window.

Five miles from Ben Edair the Garl
stopped, for he had again come among
blackberries.

He ate of these until he was no more than
a sack of juice, and when he heard the hum-
ming and buzzing of Gael of the Iron he
mourned and lamented that he could not wait
to cat his fill. He took off his coat, stuffed it
full of blackberries, swung it on his shoul-
ders, and went bounding stoutly and nimbly
for Ben Edair.

CHAPTER VI

It would be hard to tell of the terror that
was in Fionn's breast and in the hearts of the
Fianna while they attended the conclusion
of that race.

They discussed it imendingly, and at some
moment of the day a man upbraided Fionn

213

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

because he had not found Caelte the son of
Ronan as had been agreed on.

"There is no one can run like Caelte," one
man averred.

"He covers the ground," said another.

"He is light as a feather."

"Swift as a stag."

"Lunged like a bull."

"Legged like a wolf."

"He runs!"

These things were said to Fionn, and Fionn
said these things to himself.

With every passing minute a drop of lead
thumped down into every heart, and a pang
of despair stabbed up to every brain.

"Go," said Fionn to a hawk-eyed man, "go
to the top of this hill and watch for Ae
coming of the racers." And he sent lithe
men with him so that. they might nm back
in endless succession with the news.

The messengers began to run through his
tent at minute intervals calling "nothing,"
"nothing," "nothing," as they paused and
darted away.

And the words, "nothing, nothing, noth-
ing," began to drowse into the brains of
every person present.

214

n THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT

"What can we hope from that Carl?" a
champion demanded savagely.

"Nothing," cried a messenger who stood
and sped.

"A clump !" cried a champion.

"A hog!" said another.

"A flat-footed,"

"Little-winded,"

"Big-bellied,"

"Lazy-boned,"

"Pork!"

"Did you think, Fionn, that a whale could
5wim on land, or what did you imagine that
lump could do?"

"Nothing," cried a messenger, and was
sped as he spoke.

Rage began to gnaw in Fionn' s soul, and
a red haze danced and flickered before his
eyes. His hands began to twitch and a desire
:rept over him to seize on champions by the
neck, and to shake and worry and rage among
them like a wild dog raging among sheep.

He looked on one, and yet he seemed to
look on all at once.

"Be silent," he growled. "Let each man
be silent as a dead man."

And he sat forward, seeing all, seeing

215

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

none, with his mouth drooping open, and
such a wildness and bristle lowering from
that great glum brow that the champions
shivered as though already in the chill of
death, and were silent.

He rose and stalked to the tent-door.

"Where to, O Fionn?" said a champion
humbly.

"To the hill-top," said Fionn, and he
stalked on.

They followed him, whispering among
themselves, and keeping their eyes on the
ground as they climbed.

CHAPTER VII

"What do you see?" Fionn demanded of
the watcher.

"Nothing," that man replied.

"Look again," said Fionn.

The eagle-eyed man lifted a face, thin and
sharp as though it had been carven on the
wind, and he stared forward with an
immobile intentness.

'What do you see?" said Fionn.

'Nothing," the man replied.

216

vn THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT

"I will look myself," said Fionn, and his
great brow bent forward and gloomed
afar.

The watcher stood beside, staring with his
tense face and imwinking, lidless eye.

"What can you see, O Fionn?" said the
watcher.

"I can see nothing," said Fionn, and he
projected again his grim, gaimt forehead.
For it seemed as if the watcher stared with
his whole face, ay, and with his hands; but
Fionn brooded weightedly on distance with
his puckered and crannied brow.

They looked again.

"What can you see?" said Fionn.

"I see nothing," said the watcher.

"I do not know if I see or if I surmise, but
scxnething moves," said Fionn. "There is a
trample," he said.

The watcher became then an eye, a
rigidity, an intense out-thrusting and ran-
sacking of thin-spun distance. At last he
spoke:

"There is a dust," he said.

And at that the champions gazed also,
straining hungrily afar, until their eyes be-
came filled with a blue darkness and they

217

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

could no longer see even the things that were
close to them.

"I/' cried Cronan triumphantly, "I see a
dust."

"And I," cried another.

"And I."

"I see a man," said the eagle-eyed
watcher.

And again they stared, imtil their straining
eyes grew dim with tears and winks, and
they saw trees that stood up and sat down,
and fields that wobbled and spun roimd and
round in a giddily swirling world.

"There is a man," Conan roared.

"A man there is," cried another.

"And he is carrying a man on his back,"
said the watcher. "It is Gael of the
Iron carrying the Carl on his back," he
groaned.

"The great pork!" a man gritted.

"The no-good !" sobbed another.

"The lean-hearted,"

"Thick-thighed,"

"Ramshackle,"

"Muddle-headed," -

"Hog!" screamed a champion.

And he beat his fists angrily against a tree.

218

vn THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT

But the eagle-eyed watcher watched until
his eyes narrowed and became pin-points, /
and he ceased to be a man and became an^
optic.

"Wait," he breathed, "wait until I screw
into one other inch of sight."

And they waited, looking no longer on
that scarcely perceptible speck in the dis-
tance, but straining upon the eye of the
watcher as though they would penetrate it
and look through it.

"It is the Carl," he said, "carrying some-
thing on his back, and behind him again
there is a dust."

"Arc you sure?" said Fioim in a voice that
rumbled and vibrated like thimder.

"It is the Carl," said the watcher, "and
the, dust behind him is Cael of the Iron
trjring to catch him up."

Then the Fianna gave a roar of exultation,
and each man seized his neighbour and kissed
him on both cheeks ; and they gripped hands
about Fionn, and they danced round and
round in a great circle, roaring with laughter
and relief, in the ecstasy which only comes
where grisly fear has been and whence that
bony jowl has taken itself away,

219

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

CHAPTER VIII

The Carl of the Drab Coat came bumping
and stumping and clumping into the camp,
and was surrounded by a multitude that
adored him and hailed him with tears.

"Meal !" he bawled, "meal for the love of
the stars !"

And he bawled, "Meal, meal!" until he
bawled everybody into silence.

Fioim addressed him.

"What for, the meal, dear heart?"

"For the inside of my mouth," said the
Carl, "for the recesses and crannies and deep-
down profundities of my stomach. Meal,
meal !" he lamented.

Meal was brought.

The Carl put his coat on the ground,
opened it carefully, and revealed a store of
/blackberries, squashed, crushed, mangled,
democratic, ill-looking.
•"-^^The meal !" he groaned, "the meal!"

It was given to him.

"What of the race, my pulse?" said
Fioim.

^'Wait, wait," cried the Carl. "I die, I die
for meal and blackberries."

220

vni THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT

Into the centre of the mess of blackberries
he discharged a barrel of meal, and he mixed
the two up and throu^, and roimd and
down, until the pile of white-black, red-
brown slibber-slobber reached up to his
shoulders. Then he commenced to paw and
impel and project and cram the mixture into
his mouth, and between each mouthful he
sighed a contented sigh, and during every
mouthful he gurgled an oozy gurgle.

But while Fionn and the Fianna started
like lost minds upon the Carl, there came a
sound of buzzing, as if a hornet or a queen
of the wasps or a savage, steep-winged griffin
was hovering about them, and looking away
they saw Gael of the Iron charging on them
with a monstrous extension and scurry of his
legs. He had a sword in his hand, and there
was nothing in his face but redness and
ferocity.

Fear fell like night aroimd the Fianna,
and they stood with slack knees and hanging
hands waiting for death. But the Carl lifted
a pawful of his oozy slop and discharged this
at Cael with such a smash that the man*s
head spim off his shoulders and hopped along
the ground. The Carl then picked up the

221

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

head and threw it at the body with such aim
and force that the neck part of the head
jammed into the neck part of the body and
stuck there, as good a head as ever, you
would have said, but that it had got twisted
the wrong way roimd. The Carl then lashed
his opponent hand and foot.

"Now, dear heart, do you still claim
tribute and lordship oiF Ireland?" said he.

"Let me go home,'* groaned Gael, "I want
to go home."

"Swear by the sun and moon, if I let you
go home, that you will send to Fionn, yearly
and every year, the rent of the land of
Thessaly."

"I swear that," said Gael, "and I would
swear anything to get home."

The Garl lifted him then and put him
sitting into his ship. Then he raised his
big boot and gave the boat a kick that drove
it seven leagues out into the sea, and that
was how the adventure of Gael of the Iron
finished.

"Who are you, sir?" said Fionn to the
Garl.

But before answering the Garl's shape
changed into one of splendour and delight.

222

Mil THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT

"I am ruler of the Shi of Rath Cruachan,"
he said.

Then Fionn mac Uail made a feast and
a banquet for the jovial god, and with that
the tale is ended of the King of Thessaly's
son and the Carl of the Drab Coat.

223

THE ENCHANTED CAVE
OF CESH CORRAN

CHAPTER I

FiONN MAC Uail was the most prudent chief
of an army in the world, but he was not
always prudent on his own account. Dis-
cipline sometimes irked him, and he would
then take any opportunity that presented for
an adventure ; for he was not only a soldier,
he was a poet also, that is, a man of science,
and whatever was strange or unusual had an
irresistible attraction for him.

Such a soldier was he that, single-handed,
he could take the Fianna out of any hole they
got into, but such an inveterate poet was he
that all the Fianna together could scarcely
retrieve him from the abysses into which he
tumbled. It took him to keep the Fianna
safe, but it took all the Fianna to keep their
captain out of danger. They did not ccmh-

224

CH. I ENCHANTED CAVE OF CESH CORRAN

plain of this, for they loved every hair of
Fionn's head more than they loved their
wives and children, and that was reasonable,
for there was never in the world a person
more worthy of love than Fionn was.

GroU mac Moma did not admit so much
in words, but he admitted it in all his actions,
for although he never lost an opportunity of
killing a member of Fiorm's family (there
was deadly feud between clann-Baiscne and
clann-Morna), yet a call from Fionn brought
GoU raging to his assistance like a lion that
rages tenderly by his mate. Not even a call
was necessary, for GoU felt in his heart when
Fionn was threatened, and he would leave
Fionn's own brother only half-killed to fly
where his arm was wanted. He was never
thanked, of course, for although Fionn loved
GoU he did not like him, and that was how
GoU felt towards Fionn.

Fionn, with Conan the Swearer and the
dogs Bran and Sceolan, was sitting on the
himting-mound at the top of Cesh Corran.
Below and around on every side the Fianna
were beating the coverts in Legney and
Brefny, ranging the fastnesses of Glen

225

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

Dalian, creeping in the nut and beech forests
of Carbury, spying among the woods of Kyle
Conor, and ranging the wide plain of Moy
Conal.

The great captain was happy: his eyes
were resting on the sights he liked best — the
sunlight of a clear day, the waving trees, the
pure sky, and the lovely movement of the
earth ; and his ears were filled with delectable
sounds — the baying of eager dogs, the clear
calling of young men, the shrill whistling
that came from every side, and each sound
of which told a definite thing about the hunt.
There was also the plunge and scurry of the
deer, the yapping of badgers, and the whirr
of birds driven into reluctant flight.

CHAPTER II

Now the king of the Shi of Cesh Corran,
Conaran, son of Imidel, was also watching
the hunt, but Fionn did not see him, for we
cannot see the people of Faery until we enter
their realm, and Fionn was not thinking of
Faery at that moment. Conaran did not like
Fionn, and, seeing that the great champion
was alone, save for Conan and the two

226

« ENCHANTED CAVE OF CESH CORRAN

hounds Bran and Sceolan, he thought the
time had come to get Fionn into his power.
We do not know what Fionn had done to
Conaran, but it must have been bad enough,
for the king of the Shi of Cesh Corran was
filled with joy at the sight of Fionn thus
close to him, thus unprotected, thus unsus-
picious.

This Conaran had four daughters. He
was fond of them and proud of them, but if
one were to search the Shis of Ireland or the
land of Ireland, the equal of these four would
not be found for ugliness and bad humour
and twisted temperaments.

Their hair was black as ink and tough as
wire: it stuck up and poked out and hung
down about their heads in bushes and spikes
and tangles. Their eyes were bleary and
red. Their mouths were black and twisted,
and in each of these mouths there was a
hedge of curved yellow tangs. They had
long scraggy necks that could turn all the
way round like the neck of a hen. Their
amis were long and skinny and muscular,
and at the end of each finger they had a
spiked nail that was as hard as hom and as
sharp as a briar. Their bodies were covered

227

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

with a bristle of hair and fur and fluff, so
that they looked like dogs in some parts and
like cats in others, and in other parts again
they looked like chickens. They had mous-
taches poking under their noses and woolly
wads growing out of their ears, so that when
you looked at them the first time you never
wanted to look at them again, and if you had
to look at them a second time you were likely
to die of the sight.

They were called Caevog, Guillen, and
laran. The fourth daughter, lamach, was
not present at that moment, so nothing need
be said of her yet.

Conaran called these three to him.

"Fionn is alone," said he. "Fionn is alone,
my treasures."

"Ah!" said Caevog, and her jaw crunched
upwards and stuck outwards, as was usual
with her when she was satisfied.

"When the chance comes take it," Con-
aran continued, and he smiled a black, beetle-
browed, unbenevolent smile.

"It's a good word," quoth Guillen, and she
swung her jaw loose and made it waggle up
and down, for that was the way she smiled.

"And here is the chance," her father added.

228

n ENCHANTED CAVE OF CESH CORRAN

"The chance is here," laran echoed, with
a smile that was very like her sister's, only
that it was worse, and the wen that grew on
her nose joggled to and fro and did not get
its balance again for a long time.

Then they smiled a smile that was agree-
able to their own eyes, but which would have
been a deadly thing for anybody else to see.

"But Fionn cannot see us," Caevog ob-
jected, and her brow set downwards and her
chin set upwards and her mouth squeezed
sidewards, so that her face looked like a
badly disappointed nut.

"And we are worth seeing," Guillen con-
tinued, and the disappointment that was set
in her sister's face got carved and twisted
into hers, but it was worse in her case.

"That is the truth," said laran in a voice
of lamentation, and her face took on a gnarl
and a writhe and a solidity of ugly woe that
beat the other two and made even her father
marvel.

"He cannot see us now," Conaran replied,
*1>ut he will see us in a minute."

"Won't Fionn be glad when he sees us!"
said the three sisters.

And then they joined hands and danced

229

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

joyfully around their father, and they sang
a song, the first line of which is :

Fionn thinks he is safe. But who knows when the
sky wUl fall?

Lots of the people in the Shi learned that
song by heart, and they applied it to every
kind of circumstance.

CHAPTER III

By his arts Conaran changed the sight of
Fionn's eyes, and he did the same for
Conan.

In a few minutes Fionn stood up from his
place on the mound. Everything was about
him as before, and he did not know that he
had gone into Faery. He walked for a
minute up and down the hillock. Then, as
by chance, he stepped down the sloping end
of the mound and stood with his mouth open,
staring. He cried out:

"Come down here, Conan, my darling."

Conan stepped down to him.

"Am I dreaming?" Fionn demanded, and
he stretched out his finger before him.

"If you are dreaming," said Conan, "Fm

230

Ill ENCHANTED CAVE OF CESH CORRAN

dreaming too. They weren't here a minute
ago/' he stammered.

Fionn looked up at the sky and found that
it was still there. He stared to one side and
saw the trees of Kyle Conor waving in the
distance. He bent his ear to the wind and
heard the shouting of hunters, the yapping
of dogs, and the clear whistles, which told
how the hunt was going.

"Well !" said Fionn to himself.

"By my hand !" quoth Conan to his own
soul.

And the two men stared into the hillside
as though what they were looking at was too
wonderful to be looked away from.

"Who are they?" said Fionn.

"What are they?" Conan gasped.

And they stared again.

For there was a great hole like a doorway
in the side of the mound, and in that doorway
the daughters of Conaran sat spirming.
They had three crooked sticks of holly set
up before the cave, and they were reeling
yam off these. But it was enchantment they
were weaving.

"One could not call them handsome,"
said Conan.

231

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

"One could," Fionn replied, "but it would
not be true."

"I cannot see them properly," Fionn com-
plained. "They are hiding behind the
holly."

"I would be contented if I could not see
them at all," his companion grumbled.

But the Chief insisted.

"I want to make sure that it is whiskers
they are wearing."

"Let them wear whiskers or not wear
them," Conan counselled. "But let us have
nothing to do with them."

"One must not be frightened of anything,"
Fionn stated.

"I am not frightened," Conan explained.
"I only want to keep my good opinion of
women, and if the three yonder are women,
then I feel sure I shall begin to dislike
females from this minute out."

"Come on, my love," said Fionn, "for
I must find out if these whiskers are

true."

He strode resolutely into the cave. He
pushed the branches of holly aside and
marched up to Conaran's daughters, with
Conan behind him.

232

IV ENCHANTED CAVE OF CESH CORRAN

CHAPTER IV

The instant they passed the holly a strange
weakness came over the heroes. Their fists
seemed to grow heavy as lead, and went
dingle-dangle at the ends of their arms; their
legs became as light as straws and began to
bend in and out; their necks became too
delicate to hold anything up, so that their
heads wibbled and wobbled from side to
side.

'^What's wrong at all?" said Conan, as he
tumbled to the groimd.

''Everything is," Fionn replied, and he
tumbled beside him.

The three sisters then tied the heroes with
every kind of loop and twist and knot that
could be thought of.

"Those are whiskers!" said Fionn.

"Alas !" said Conan.

"What a place you must hunt whiskers
in!" he mumbled savagely. "Who wants
whiskers?" he groaned.

But Fionn was thinking of other things.

"If there was any way of warning the
Fianna not to come here," Fionn murmured.

233

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"There is no way, my darling," said
Caevog, and she smiled a smile that would
have killed Fionn, only that he shut his eyes
in time.

After a moment he murmured again:

"Conan, my dear love, give the warning
whistle so that the Fianna will keep out of
this place."

A little whoof, like the sound that would
be made by a baby and it asleep, came from
Conan.

"Fionn," said he, "there isn't a whistle in
me. "We are done for," said he.

"You are done for, indeed," said Guillen,
and she smiled a hairy and twisty and fangy
smile that almost finished Conan.

By that time some of the Fianna had
returned to the mound to see why Bran and
Sceolan were barking so outrageously. They
saw the cave and went into it, but no sooner
had they passed the holly branches than their
strength went from them, and they were
seized and bound by the vicious hags. Little
by little all the members of the Fianna re-
turned to the hill, and each of them was
drawn into the cave, and each was boimd by
the sisters.

234

IV ENCHANTED CAVE OF CESH CORRAN

Oisin and Oscar and mac Lugac came,
with the nobles of clann-Baiscne, and with
those of clann-Corcoran and clann-Smol;
they all came, and they were all bound.

It was a wonderful sight and a great deed
this binding of the Fianna, and the three
sisters laughed with a joy that was terrible
to hear and was almost death to see. As
the men were captured they were carried
by the hags into dark mysterious holes and
black perplexing labyrinths.

"Here is another one," cried Caevog as
she bundled a trussed champion along.

"This one is fat," said Guillen, and
she rolled a bulky Fenian along like a
wheel.

"Here," said laran, "is a love of a man.
One could eat this kind of man," she mur-
mured, and she licked a lip that had whiskers
growing inside as well as out.

And the corded champion whimpered in
her arms, for he did not know but eating
might indeed be his fate, and he would have
preferred to be coffined anywhere in the
world rather than to be coffined inside of
that face.

So far for them.

235

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

CHAPTER V

Within the cave there was silence except for
the voices of the hags and the scarcely audi-
ble moaning of the Fianna-Finn, but without
there was a dreadful uproar, for as each man
returned from the chase his dogs came with
him, and although the men went into the
cave the dogs did not.

They were too wise.

They stood outside, filled with savagery
and terror, for they could scent their masters
and their masters' danger, and perhaps they
could get from the cave smells till then
unknown and full of alami.

From the troop of dogs there arose a bay-
ing and barking, a snarling and howling and
growling, a yelping and squealing and
bawling for which no words can be foimd.
Now and again a dog nosed among a thou-
sand smells and scented his master; the ruff
of his neck stood up like a hog's bristles and
a nettly ridge prickled along his spine. Then
with red eyes, with bared fangs, with a
hoarse, deep snort and growl he rushed at the
cave, and then he halted and sneaked back

236

V ENCHANTED CAVE OF CESH CORRAN

again with all his ruffles smoothed, his tail
between his legs, his eyes screwed sideways in
miserable apology and alarm, and a long thin
whine of woe dribbling out of his nose.

The three sisters took their wide-chan-
nelled, hard-tempered swords in their hands,
and prepared to slay the Fianna, but before
doing so they gave one more look from the
door of the cave to see if there might be a
straggler of the Fianna who was escaping
death by straggling, and they saw one coming
towards them with Bran and Sceolan leaping
beside him, while all the other dogs began to
burst their throats with barks and split their
noses with snorts and wag their tails off at
sight of the tall, valiant, white-toothed
champion, GoU Mor mac Moma.

"We will kill that one first," said Caevog.

"There is only one of him," said Guillen.

"And each of us three is the match for an
hundred," said laran.

The uncanny, misbehaved, and outrageous
harridans advanced then to meet the son of
Moma, and when he saw these three Goll
whipped the sword from his thigh, swimg
his buckler round, and got to them in ten
great leaps.

237

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

Silence fell on the world during that
conflict. The wind went down; the clouds
stood still; the old hill itself held its breath;
the warriors within ceased to be men and
became each an ear; and the dogs sat in a
vast circle roimd the combatants, with their
heads all to one side, their noses poked for-
ward, their mouths half-open, and their tails
forgotten. Now and again a dog whined in
a whisper and snapped a little snap on the
air, but except for that there was neither
sound nor movement.

It was a long fight. It was a hard and
a tricky fight, and Goll won it by bravery
and strategy and great good luck; for with
one shrewd slice of his blade he carved two
of these mighty termagants into equal halves,
so that there were noses and whiskers to his
right hand and knees and toes to his left:
and that stroke was known afterwards as one
of the three great sword-strokes of Ireland.
The third hag, however, had managed to get
behind Goll, and she leaped on to his back
with the bound of a panther, and hung there
with the skilful, many-legged, tight-twisted
clutching of a spider. But the great cham-
pion gave a twist of his hips and a swing of

238

VI ENCHANTED CAVE OF CESH CORRAN

his shoulders that whirled her around him
like a sack. He got her on the ground and
tied her hands with the straps of a shield, and
he was going to give her the last blow when
she appealed to his honour and bravery.

"I put my life under your protection," said
she. "And if you let me go free I will lift
the enchantment from the Fianna-Finn and
will give them all back to you again."

"I agree to that," said Goll, and he imtied
her straps.

The harridan did as she had promised, and
in a short time Fionn and Oisin and Oscar
and Conan were released, and after that all
the Fianna were released.

CHAPTER VI

As each man came out of the cave he gave
a jump and a shout ; the courage of the world
went into him and he felt that he could fight
twenty. But while they were talking over
the adventure and explaining how it had
happened, a vast figure strode over the side
of the hill and descended among them.

It was Conaran's fourth daughter.

If the other three had been terrible to look

239

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

on, this one was more terrible than the three
together. She was clad in iron plate, and she
had a wicked sword by her side and a knobby
club in her hand. She halted by the bodies
of her sisters, and bitter tears streamed down
into her beard.

"Alas, my sweet ones," said she, "I am too
late."

And then she stared fiercely at Fionn.

"I demand a combat," she roared.

"It is your right," said Fionn.

He turned to his son.

"Oisin, my heart, kill me this honourable
hag."

But for the only time in his life Oisin
shrank from a combat.

"I cannot do it," he said, "I feel too
weak."

Fionn was astounded.

"Oscar," he said, "will you kill me this
great hag?"

Oscar stammered miserably, "I would not
be able to," he said.

Conan also refused, and so did Caelte mac
Ronan and mac Lugac, for there was no man
there but was terrified by the sight of that
mighty and valiant harridan.

240

VI ENCHANTED CAVE OF CESH CORRAN

Fionn rose to his feet. "I will take this
combat myself," he said sternly.

And he swung his buckler forward and
stretched his right hand to the sword. But
at that terrible sight Goll Mor mac Moma
blushed deeply and leaped from the groimd.

"No, no," he cried; "no, my soul, Fionn,
this would not be a proper ccxnbat for you.
I take this fight."

"You have done your share, Goll," said
the captain.

"I should finish the fight I began," Goll
continued, "for it was I who killed the two
sisters of this valiant hag, and it is against
me the feud lies."

"That will do for me," said the horrible
daughter of Conaran. "I will kill Goll Mor
mac Moma first, and after that I will kill
Fionn, and after that I will kill every Fenian
of the Fianna-Finn."

"You may begin, Goll," said Fionn, "and
I give you my blessing."

Goll then strode forward to the fight, and
the hag moved against him with equal alac-
rity. In a moment the heavens rang to the
clash of swords on bucklers. It was hard to
withstand the terrific blows of that mighty

241

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

female, for her sword played with the quick-
ness of lightning and smote like the heavy
crashing of a storm. But into that din and
encirclement GoU pressed and ventured,
steady as a rock in water, agile as a creature
of the sea, and when one of the combatants
retreated it was the hag that gave backwards.
As her foot moved a great shout of joy rose
from the Fianna. A snarl went over the
huge face of the monster and she leaped for-
ward again, but she met Goll's point in the
road; it went through her, and in another
moment GoU took her head from its
shoulders and swung it on high before Fionn.

As the Fianna turned homewards Fionn
spoke to his great champion and enemy.

"GoU," he said, "I have a daughter."

"A lovely girl, a blossom of the dawn,"
said GoU.

"Would she please you as a wife?" the
Chief demanded.

"She would please me," said GoU.

"She is your wife," said Fionn.

But that did not prevent GoU from killing
Fionn's brother Cairell later on, nor did it
prevent Fionn from killing GoU later on

242

VI ENCHANTED CAVE OF CESH CORRAN

again, and the last did not prevent GoU f rcMn
rescuing Fionn out of hell when the Fianna-
Finn were sent there under the new God.
Nor is there any reason to complain or to be
astonished at these things, for it is a mutual
world we live in, a give-and-take world, and
there is no great harm in it.

243

BECUMA OF THE WHITE

SKIN

CHAPTER I

There are more worlds than one, and in
many ways they are imlike each other. But
joy and sorrow, or, in other words, good and
evil, are not absent in their degree f rcMn any
of the worlds, for wherever there is life there
is action, and action is but the expression of
one or other of these qualities.

After this Earth there is the world of the
Shi. Beyond it again lies the Many-Coloured
Land. Next comes the Land of Wonder,
and after that the Land of Promise awaits us.
You will cross clay to get into the Shi; you
will cross water to attain the Many-Coloured
Land; fire must be passed ere the Land of
Wonder is attained, but we do not know
what will be crossed for the fourth world.

244

CH. I BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

This adventure of Conn the Hundred
Filter and his son Art was by the way of
water, and therefore he was more advanced
in magic than Fionn was, all of whose adven-
tures were by the path of clay and into Faery
only, but Conn was the High King and so
the arch-magician of Ireland.

A council had been called in the Many-
Coloured Land to discuss the case of a lady
named Becuma Cneisgel, that is, Becuma of
the White Skin, the daughter of Eogan Inver.
She had run away from her husband Labraid
and had taken refuge with Gadiar, one of the
sons of Manannan mac Lir, the god of the
sea, and the ruler, therefore, of that sphere.

It seems, then, that there is marriage in
two other spheres. In the Shi matrimony
is recorded as being parallel in every respect
with earth-marriage, and the desire which
urges to it seems to be as violent and incon-
stant as it is with us; but in the Many-
Coloured Land marriage is but a contempla-
tion of beauty, a brooding and meditation
wherein all grosser desire is unknown and
children are bom to sinless parents.

In the Shi the crime of Becuma would have
been lightly considered, and would have re-

245

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

ceived none or but a nominal punishment,
but in the second world a horrid gravity
attaches to such a lapse, and the retribution
meted is implacable and grim. It may be
dissolution by fire, and that can note a de-
struction too final for the mind to contem-
plate; or it may be banishment from that
sphere to a lower and worse one.

This was the fate of Becuma of the White
Skin.

One may wonder how, having attained to
that sphere, she could have carried with her
so strong a memory of the earth. It is certain
that she was not a fit person to exist in the
Many-Coloured Land, and it is to be feared
that she was organised too grossly even for
life in the Shi.

She was an earth-woman, and she was
banished to the earth.

Word was sent to the Shis of Ireland that
this lady should not be permitted to enter
any of them ; from which it would seem that
the ordinances of the Shi come from the
higher world, and, it might follow, that the
conduct of earth lies in the Shi.

In that way, the gates of her own world
and the innumerable doors of Faery being

246

1 BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

closed against her, Becuma was forced to
appear in the world of men.

It is pleasant, however, notwithstanding
her terrible crime and her woeful punish-
ment, to think how courageous she was.
When she was told her sentence, nay, her
doom, she made no outcry, nor did she waste
any time in sorrow. She went home and put
on her nicest clothes.

She wore a red satin smock, and, over this,
a cloak of green silk out of which long fringes
of gold swung and sparkled, and she had
light sandals of white bronze on her thin
shapely feet. She had long soft hair that was
yellow as gold, and soft as the curling foam
of the sea. Her eyes were wide and clear as
water and were grey as a dove's breast. Her
teeth were white as snow and of an evenness
to marvel at. Her lips were thin and beauti-
fully curved: red lips in truth, red as winter
berries and tempting as the fruits of summer.
The people who superintended her departure
said mournfully that when she was gone
there would be no more beauty left in their
world.

She stepped into a coracle, it was pushed
on the enchanted waters, and it went for-

247

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

ward, world within world, until land ap-
peared, and her boat swung in low tide
against a rock at the foot of Ben Edair.
So far for her.

CHAPTER II

Conn the Hundred Fighter, Ard-Ri of Ire-
land, was in the lowest spirits that can be
imagined, for his wife was dead. He had
been Ard-Ri for nine years, and duriag his
term the com used to be reaped three times
in each year, and there was full and plenty
of everything. There are few kings who
can boast of more kingly results than he can,
but there was sore trouble in store for him.

He had been married to Eithne, the
daughter of Brisland Binn, King of Norway,
and, next to his subjects, he loved his wife
more than all that was lovable in the world.
But the term of man and woman, of king or
queen, is set in the stars, and there is no
escaping Doom for any one; so, when her
time came, Eithne died.

Now there were three great burying-
places in Ireland — the Brugh of the Boyne
in Ulster, over which Angus Og is chief and

248

n BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

god ; the Shi mound of Cniachan Ahi, where
Ethal Anbual presides over the underworld
of Connacht; and Tailltin, in Royal Meath.
It was in this last, the sacred place of his own
lordship, that Conn laid his wife to rest.

Her funeral games were played during
nine days. Her keen was simg by poets and
harpers, and a cairn ten acres wide was
heaved over her clay. Then the keening
ceased and the games drew to an end; the
princes of the Five Provinces returned by
horse or by chariot to their own places; the
concourse of mourners melted away, and
there was nothing left by the great cairn but
the sun that dozed upon it in the daytime,
the heavy clouds that brooded on it in the
night, and the desolate, memoried king.

For the dead queen had been so lovely
that Conn could not forget her ; she had been
so kind at every moment that he could not
but miss her at every moment ; but it was in
the Council Chamber and the Judgement
Hall that he most pondered her memory. For
she had also been wise, and lacking her guid-
ance, all grave affairs seemed graver, shadow-
ing each day and going with him to the
pillow at night.

249

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

The trouble of the king becomes the
trouble of the subject, for how shall we live
if judgement is withheld, or if faulty deci-
sions are promulgated? Therefore, with the
sorrow of the king, all Ireland was in grief,
and it was the wish of every person that he
should marry again.

Such an idea, however, did not occur to
him, for he could not conceive how any
woman should fill the place his queen had
vacated. He grew more and more despon-
dent, and less and less fitted to cope with
affairs of state, and one day he instructed his
son Art to take the rule during his absence,
and he set out for Ben Edair.

For a great wish had come upon him to
walk beside the sea ; to listen to the roll and
boom of long, grey breakers; to gaze on an
unfruitful, desolate wilderness of waters;
and to forget in those sights all that he could
forget, and if he could not forget then to
remember all that he should remember.

He was thus gazing and brooding when
one day he observed a coracle drawing to the
shore. A young girl stepped from it and
walked to him among black boulders and
patches of yellow sand.

250

in BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

CHAPTER III

Being a king he had authority to ask ques-
tions. Conn asked her, therefore, all the
questions that he could think of, for it is not
every day that a lady drives from the sea,
and she wearing a golden-fringed cloak of
green silk through which a red satin smock
peeped at the openings. She replied to his
questions, but she did not tell him all the
truth ; for, indeed, she could not afford to.

She knew who he was, for she retained
some of the powers proper to the worlds she
had left, and as he looked on her soft yellow
hair and on her thin red lips. Conn recog-
nised, as all men do, that one who is lovely
must also be good, and so he did not frame
any inquiry on that count ; for everything is
forgotten in the presence of a pretty woman,
and a magician can be bewitched also.

She told Conn that the fame of his son Art
had reached even the Many-Coloured Land,
and that she had fallen in love with the boy.
This did not seem unreasonable to one who
had himself ventured much in Faery, and
who had known so many of the people of that

251

miSH FAIRY TALES ch.

world leave their own land for the love of a
mortal.

"What is your name, my sweet lady?"
said the king.

"I am called Delvcaem (Fair Shape) and
I am the daughter of Morgan," she replied.

"I have heard much of Morgan," said the
king. "He is a very great magician."

During this conversation Conn had been
regarding her with the minute freedom which
is right only in a king. At what precise in-
stant he forgot his dead consort we do not
know, but it is certain that at this moment his
mind was no longer burdened with that dear
and lovely memory. His voice was melan-
choly when he spoke again.

"You love my son !"

"Who could avoid loving him?" she
murmured.

"When a woman speaks to a man about
the love she feels for another man she is not
liked. And," he continued, "when she speaks
to a man who has no wife of his own about
her love for another man then she is
disliked."

"I would not be disliked by you," Becuma
murmured.

252

Ill BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

"Nevertheless," said he regally, *1 will
not come between a woman and her choice."

"I did not know you lacked a wife," said
Becuma ; but indeed she did.

"You know it now," the king replied
sternly.

'What shall I do?" she inquired; "am I
to wed you or your son?"

"You must choose," Conn answered.

"If you allow me to choose it means that
you do not want me very badly," said she
with a smile.

"Then I will not allow you to choose,"
cried the king, "and it is with myself you
shall marry."

He took her hand in his and kissed it.

"Lovely is this pale thin hand. Lovely is
the slender foot that I see in a small bronze
shoe," said the king.

After a suitable time she continued :

"I should not like your son to be at Tara
when I am there, or for a year afterwards,
for I do not wish to meet him until I have
forgotten him and have come to know you
well."

"I do not wish to banish my son," the king
protested.

253

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

"It would not really be a banishment,"
she said. "A prince's duty could be set him,
and in such an absence he would improve his
knowledge both of Ireland and of men.
"Further," she continued with downcast
eyes, "when you remember the reason that
brought me here you will see that his presence
would be an embarrassment to us both, and
my presence would be unpleasant to him if
he remembers his mother."

"Nevertheless," said Conn stubbornly, "I
do not wish to banish my son ; it is awkward
and unnecessary."

"For a year only," she pleaded.

"It is yet," he continued thoughtfully, "a
reasonable reason that you give and I will do
what you ask, but by my hand and word I
don't like doing it."

They set out then briskly and joyfully on
the homeward journey, and in due time they
reached Tara of the Kings.

CHAPTER IV

It is part of the education of a prince to be
a good chess player, and to continually
exercise his mind in view of the judgements

254

IV BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

that he will be called upon to give and the
knotty, tortuous, and perplexing matters
which will obscure the issues which he must
judge. Art, the son of Conn, was sitting at
chess with Cromdes, his father's magician.

"Be very careful about the move you are
going to make," said Cromdes.

''Can I be careful?" Art inquired. "Is the
move that you are thinking of in my power?"

"It is not," the other admitted.

"Then I need not be more careful than
usual," Art replied, and he made his move.

"It is a move of banishment," said
Cromdes.

"As I will not banish myself, I suppose
my father will do it, but I do not know why
he should."

"Your father will not banish you."

"Who then?"

"Your mother."

"My mother is dead."

"You have a new one," said the magician.

"Here is news," said Art. "I think I shall
not love my new mother."

"You will yet love her better than she
loves you," said Cromdes, meaning thereby
that they would hate each other.

255

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

While they spoke the king and Becuma
entered the palace.

"I had better go to greet my father," said
the young man.

"You had better wait imtil he sends for
you/' his companion advised, and they
returned to their game.

In due time a messenger came frcxn the
king directing Art to leave Tara instantly,
and to leave Ireland for one full year.

He left Tara that night, and for the space
of a year he was not seen again in Ireland.
But during that period things did not go well
with the king nor with Ireland. Every year
before that time three crops of corn used to
be lifted off the land, but during Art's ab-
sence there was no corn in Ireland and there
was no milk. The whole land went hiuigry.

Lean people were in every house, lean
cattle in every field ; the bushes did not swing
out their timely berries or seasonable nuts;
the bees went abroad as busily as ever, but
each night they returned languidly, with
empty pouches, and there was no honey in
their hives when the honey season came.
People began to look at each other question-
ingly, meaningly, and dark remarks passed

256

IV BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

between them, for they knew that a bad
harvest means, somehow, a bad king, and,
although this belief can be combated, it is
too firmly rooted in wisdom to be dismissed.

The poets and magicians met to consider
why this disaster should have befallen the
coimtry, and by their arts they discovered
the truth about the king's wife, and that she
was Becuma of the White Skin, and they
discovered also the cause of her banishment
from the Many-Coloured Land that is be-
yond the sea, which is beyond even the grave.

They told the truth to the king, but he
could not bear to be parted from that slender-
handed, gold-haired, thin-lipped, blithe en-
chantress, and he required them to discover
some means whereby he might retain his wife
and his crown. There was a way and the
magicians told him of it.

"If the son of a sinless couple can be found
and if his blood be mixed with the soil of
Tara the blight and ruin will depart from
Ireland," said the magicians.

"If there is such a boy I will find him,"
cried the Hundred Fighter.

At the end of a year Art returned to Tara.
His father delivered to him the sceptre of

257

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

Ireland, and he set out on a journey to find
the son of a sinless couple such as he had
been told of.

CHAPTER V

The High King did not know where exactly
he should look for such a saviour, but he was
well educated and knew how to look for
whatever was lacking. This knowledge will
be useful to those upon whom a similar duty
should ever devolve.

He went to Ben Edair. He stepped into
a coracle and pushed out to the deep, and he
permitted the coracle to go as the winds and
the waves directed it.

In such a way he voyaged among the small
islands of the sea until he lost all knowledge
of his course and was adrift far out in ocean.
He was under the guidance of the stars and
the great luminaries.

He saw black seals that stared and barked
and dived dancingly, with the round turn of
a bow and the forward onset of an arrow.
Great whales came heaving from the green-
hued void, blowing a wave of the sea high
into the air from their noses and smacking

258

V BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

their wide flat tails thunderously on the
water. Porpoises went snorting past in bands
and clans. Small fish came sliding and
flickering, and all the outlandish creatures of
the deep rose by his bobbing craft and swirled
and sped away.

Wild storms howled by him so that the
boat climbed painfully to the sky on a mile-
high wave, balanced for a tense moment on
its level top, and sped down the glassy side
as a stone goes furiously from a sling.

Or, again, caught in the chop of a broken
sea, it stayed shuddering and backing, while
above his head there was only a low sad sky,
and aroimd him the lap and wash of grey
waves that were never the same and were
never different.

After long staring on the hungry nothing-
ness of air and water he would stare on the
skin-stretched fabric of his boat as on a
strangeness, or he would examine his hands
and the texture of his skin and the stiff black
hairs that grew behind his knuckles and
sprouted around his ring, and he found in
these things newness and wonder.

Then, when days of storm had passed, the
low grey clouds shivered and cracked in a

259

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

thousand places, each grim islet went scud-
ding to the horizon as though terrified by
some great breath, and when they had passed
he stared into vast after vast of blue iirfinity,
in the depths of which his eyes stayed and
could not pierce, and wheref rom they could
scarcely be withdrawn. A sun beamed thence
that filled the air with sparkle and the sea
with a thousand lights, and looking on these
he was reminded of his home at Tara : of the
columns of white and yellow bronze that
blazed out simnily on the sun, and the red
and white and yellow painted roofs that
beamed at and astonished the eye.

Sailing thus, lost in a succession of days
and nights, of winds and calms, he came at
last to an island.

His back was tumed to it, and long before
he saw it he smelled it and wondered; for
he had been sitting as in a daze, musing on
a change that had seemed to come in his
changeless world; and for a long time he
could not tell what that was which made a
difference on the salt-whipped wind or why
he should be excited. For suddenly he had
become excited and his heart leaped in vio-
lent expectation.

260

VI BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

"It is an October smell," he said.

"It is apples that I smell."

He turned then and saw the island, fra-
grant with apple trees, sweet with wells of
wine ; and, hearkening towards the shore, his
ears, dulled yet with the unending rhythms
of the sea, distinguished and were filled with
song; for the isle was, as it were, a nest of
birds, and they sang joyously, sweetly,
triumphantly.

He landed on that lovely island, and went
forward under the darting birds, under the
apple boughs, skirting fragrant lakes about
which were woods of the sacred hazel and
into which the nuts of knowledge fell and
swam ; and he blessed the gods of his people
because of the ground that did not shiver
and because of the deeply rooted trees that
could not gad or budge.

CHAPTER VI

Having gone some distance by these pleasant
ways he saw a shapely house dozing in the
sunlight.

It was thatched with the wings of birds,
blue wings and yellow and white wings, and

261

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

in the centre of the house there was a door
of crystal set in posts of bronze.

The queen of this island lived there,
Rigru (Large-eyed), the daughter of Lodan,
and wife of Daire Degamra. She was seated
on a crystal throne with her son Segda by
her side, and they welcomed the High King
courteously.

There were no servants in this palace ; nor
was there need for them. The High King
found that his hands had washed themselves,
and when later on he noticed that food had
been placed before him he noticed also that it
had come without the assistance of servile
hands. A cloak was laid gently about his
shoulders, and he was glad of it, for his own
was soiled by exposure to sim and wind
and water, and was not worthy of a lady's
eye.

Then he was invited to eat.

He noticed, however, that food had been
set for no one but himself, and this did not
please him, for to eat alone was contrary to
the hospitable usage of a king, and was
contrary also to his contract with the gods.

"Good my hosts," he remonstrated, "it is
geasa (taboo) for me to eat alone."

262

VI BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

"But we never eat together," the queen
replied.

"I cannot violate my geasa," said the
High King.

"I will eat with you," said Segda (Sweet
Speech), "and thus, while you are our guest
you will not do violence to your vows."

"Indeed," said Conn, "that will be a great
satisfaction, for I have already all the
trouble that I can cope with and have no
wish to add to it by offending the gods."

"What is your trouble?" the gentle queen
asked.

"During a year," Conn replied, "there has
been neither corn nor milk in Ireland. The
land is parched, the trees are withered, the
birds do not sing in Ireland, and the bees do
not make honey."

"You are certainly in trouble," the queen
assented.

"But," she continued, "for what purpose
have you come to our island?"

"I have come to ask for the loan of your

son."

"A loan of my son !"

"I have been informed," Conn explained,
that if the son of a sinless couple is brought

263

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

to Tara and is bathed in the waters of Ireland
the land will be delivered from those ills."

The king of this island, Daire, had not
hitherto spoken, but he now did so with
astonishment and emphasis.

"We would not lend our son to any one,
not even to gain the kingship of the world,"
said he.

But Segda, observing that the guest's
countenance was discomposed, broke in :

"It is not kind to refuse a thing that the
Ard-Ri of Ireland asks for, and I will go
with him."

"Do not go, my pulse," his father advised.

"Do not go, my one treasure," his mother
pleaded.

"I must go indeed," the boy replied, "for it
is to do good I am required, and no person
may shirk such a requirement."

"Go then," said his father, "but I will
place you under the protection of the High
King and of the Four Provincial Kings of
Ireland, and imder the protection of Art, the
son of Conn, and of Fionn, the son of Uail,
and under the protection of the magi-
cians and poets and the men of art in Ire-
land."

264

vn BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

And he thereupon bound these protections
and safeguards on the Ard-Ri with an oath.

"I will answer for these protections," said
Conn.

He departed then frcwn the island with
Segda and in three days they reached Ireland,
and in due time they arrived at Tara.

CHAPTER VII

On reaching the palace Conn called his
magicians and poets to a council and in-
formed them that he had foimd the boy
they sought — the son of a virgin. These
learned people consulted together, and they
stated that the young man must be killed,
and that his blood should be mixed with
the earth of Tara and sprinkled under the
withered trees.

When Segda heard this he was astonished
and defiant; then, seeing that he was alone
and without prospect of succour, he grew
downcast and was in great fear for his life.
But remembering the safeguards under which
he had been placed, he enumerated these to
the assembly, and called on the High King

265

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

to grant him the protections that were
his due.

Conn was greatly perturbed, but, as in
duty bound, he placed the boy under the
various protections that were in his oath,
and, with the courage of one who has
no more to gain or lose, he placed Segda,
furthermore, under the protection of all the
men of Ireland.

But the men of Ireland refused to accept
that bond, saying that although the Ard-Ri
was acting justly towards the boy he was not
acting justly towards Ireland.

"We do not wish to slay this prince for
our pleasure," they argued, "but for the
safety of Ireland he must be killed."

Angry parties were formed. Art, and
Fionn the son of Uail, and the princes of
the land were outraged at the idea that one
who had been placed under their protection
should be hurt by any hand. But the men
of Ireland and the magicians stated that the
king had gone to Faery for a special purpose,
and that his acts outside or contrary to that
purpose were illegal, and committed no
person to obedience.

There were debates in the Council Hall,

266

VII BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

in the market-place, in the streets of Tara,
some holding that national honour dissolved
and absolved all personal honour, and others
protesting that no man had aught but his
personal honour, and that above it not the
gods, not even Ireland, could be placed — for
it is to be known that Ireland is a god.

Such a debate was in course, and Segda,
to whom both sides addressed gentle and
courteous arguments, grew more and more
disconsolate.

"You shall die for Ireland, dear heart,"
said one of them, and he gave Segda three
kisses on each cheek.

"Indeed," said Segda, retuming those
kisses, "indeed I had not bargained to die for
Ireland, but only to bathe in her waters and
to remove her pestilence."

"But, dear child and prince," said another,
kissing him likewise, "if any one of us could
save Ireland by dying for her how cheerfully
we would die."

And Segda, retuming his three kisses,
agreed that the death was noble, but that it
was not in his undertaking.

Then, observing the stricken countenances
about him, and the faces of men and women

267

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

hewn thin by hunger, his resolution melted
away, and he said :

"I think I must die for you," and then he
said:

"I will die for you."

And when he had said that, all the people
present touched his cheek with their lips, and
the love and peace of Ireland entered into his
soul, so that he was tranquil and proud and
happy.

The executioner drew his wide, thin blade
and all those present covered their eyes with
their cloaks, when a wailing voice called on
the executioner to delay yet a moment. The
High King uncovered his eyes and saw that
a woman had approached driving a cow
before her.

'Why are you killing the boy?" she
demanded.

The reason for this slaying was explained
to her.

"Are you sure," she asked, "that the poets
and magicians really know everything?"

"Do they not?" the king inquired.

"Do they?" she insisted.

And then turning to the magicians :

"Let one magician of the magicians t3ell

268

vn BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

me what is hidden in the bags that are lying
across the back of my cow."

But no magician could tell it, nor did they
try to.

"Questions are not answered thus," they
said. "There are formulae, and the calling
up of spirits, and lengthy complicated
preparations in our art."

"I am not badly leamed in these arts,"
said the woman, "and I say that if you slay
this cow the effect will be die same as if you
had killed the boy."

"We would prefer to kill a cow or a thou-
sand cows rather than harm this young
prince," said Conn, "but if we spare the boy
will these evils return?"

"They will not be banished imtil you have
banished their cause."

"And what is their cause?"

"Becuma is the cause, and she must be
banished."

"If you must tell me what to do," said
Conn, "tell me at least to do something that
I can do."

"I will tell you certainly. You can keep
Becuma and your ills as long as you want to.
It does not matter to me. Come, my son,"

269

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

she said to Segda, for it was Segda's mother
who had come to save him ; and then that sin-
less queen and her son went back to their
home of enchantment, leaving the king and
Fionn and the magicians and nobles of
Ireland astonished and ashamed.

CHAPTER VIII

There are good and evil people in this and
in every other world, and the person who goes
hence will go to the good or the evil that is
native to him, while those who return come
as surely to their due. The trouble which
had fallen on Becuma did not leave her
repentant, and the sweet lady began to do
wrong as instantly and innocently as a flower
begins to grow. It was she who was responsi-
ble for the ills which had come on Ireland,
and we may wonder why she brought these
plagues and droughts to what was now her
own country.

Under all wrong-doing lies personal
vanity or the feeling that we are endowed
and privileged beyond our fellows. It is
probable that, however courageously she had
accepted fate, Becuma had been sharply

270

VIII BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

stricken in her pride ; in the sense of personal
strength, aloofness, and identity, in which
the mind likens itself to god and will resist
every domination but its own. She had been
punished, that is, she had submitted to con-
trol, and her sense of freedom, of privilege,
of very being, was outraged. The mind
flinches even from the control of natural law,
and how much more from the despotism of
its own separated likenesses, for if another
can control me that other has usurped me,
has become me, and how terribly I seem
diminished by the seeming addition !

This sense of separateness is vanity, and
is the bed of all wrong-doing. For we are
I not freedom, we are control, and we must
submit to our own function ere we can
exercise it. Even unconsciously we accept
the rights of others to all that we have, and
if we will not share our good with them, it is
because we cannot, having none ; but we will
yet give what we have, although that be evil.
To insist on other people sharing in our
personal torment is the first step towards in-
sisting that they shall share in our joy, as we
shall insist when we get it.

Becuma considered that if she must suflFer

271

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch,

all else she met should suffer also. She raged,
therefore, against Ireland, and in particular
she raged against young Art, her husband's
son, and she left undone nothing that could
afHict Ireland or the prince. She may have
felt that she could not make them suffer, and
that is a maddening thought to any wcMnan.
Or perhaps she had really desired the son
instead of the father, and her thwarted desire
had perpetuated itself as hate. But it is true
that Art regarded his mother's successor with
intense dislike, and it is true that she actively
returned it.

One day Becuma came on the lawn before
the palace, and seeing that Art was at chess
with Cromdes she walked to the table on
which the match was being played and for
some time regarded the game. But the young
prince did not take any notice of her
while she stood by the board, for he knew
that this girl was the enemy of Ireland, and
he could not bring himself even to look at
her.

Becuma, looking down on his beautiful
head, smiled as much in rage as in disdain.

"O son of a king," said she, "I demand
a game with you for stakes."

272

VIII BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

Art then raised his head and stood up
courteously, but he did not look at her.

"Whatever the queen demands I will do,"
said he.

"Am I not your mother also," she replied
mockingly, as she took the seat which the
chief magician leaped from.

The game was set then, and her play was
so skilful that Art was hard put to counter
her moves. But at a point of the game
Becuma grew thoughtful, and, as by a lapse
of memory, she made a move which gave the
victory to her opponent. But she had in-
tended that. She sat then, biting on her lip
with her white small teeth and staring
angrily at Art.

"What do you demand from me?" she
asked.

"I bind you to eat no food in Ireland until
you find the wand of Curoi, son of Dare."

Becuma then put a cloak about her and she
went from Tara northward and eastward
until she came to the dewy, sparkling Brugh
of Angus mac an Og in Ulster, but she was
not admitted there. She went thence to the
Shi ruled over by Eogabal, and although this
lord would not admit her, his daughter Aine,

273

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

who was her foster-sister, led her into Faery.
She made inquiries and was informed where
the dun of Curoi mac Dare was, and when
die had received this intelligence she set out
for Slieve Mis. By what arts she coaxed
Curoi to give up his wand it matters not,
enough that she was able to return in triumph
to Tara. When she handed the wand to
Art, she said :

"I claim my game of revenge."

"It is due to you," said Art, and they sat
on the lawn before the palace and played.

A hard game that was, and at times
each of the combatants sat for an hour star-
ing on the board before the next move was
made, and at times they looked from the
board and for hours stared on the sky seeking
as though in heaven for advice. But Be-
cuma's foster-sister, Aine, came from the Shi,
and, unseen by any, she interfered with Art's
play, so that, suddenly, when he looked again
on the board, his face went pale, for he saw
that the game was lost.

"I didn't move that piece," said he sternly.

"Nor did I," Becuma replied, and she
called on the onlookers to confirm that state-
ment.

274

IX BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

She was smiling to herself secretly, for she
had seen what the mortal eyes around could
not see.

"I think the game is mine," she insisted
softly.

"I think that your friends in Faery have
cheated," he replied, "but the game is yours
if you are content to win it that way."

"I bind you," said Becuma, "to eat no food
in Ireland until you have found Delvcaem,
the daughter of Morgan."

"Where do I look for her," said Art in
despair.

"She is in one of the islands of the sea,"
Becuma replied, "that is all I will tell you,"
and she looked at him maliciously, joyously,
contentedly, for she thought he would never
return from that journey, and that Morgan
would see to it.

CHAPTER IX

Art, as his father had done before him, set
out for the Many-Coloured Land, but it was
from Inver Colpa he embarked and not from
Ben Edair.

275

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

At a certain time he passed f rcHii the rough
green ridges of the sea to enchanted waters,
and he roamed from island to island asking
all people how he might come to Delvcaem,
the daughter of Morgan. But he got no
news from any one, until he reached an island
that was fragrant with wild apples, gay with
flowers, and joyous with the song of birds
and the deep mellow drumming of the bees.
In this island he was met by a lady, Crede,
the Truly Beautiful, and when they had ex-
changed kisses, he told her who he was and
on what errand he was bent.

"We have been expecting you," said
Crede, "but alas, poor soul, it is a hard, and
a long, bad way that you must go ; for there
is sea and land, danger and difficulty be-^
tween you and the daughter of Morgan."

"Yet I must go there," he answered.

"There is a wild dark ocean to be crossed.
There is a dense wood where every thorn on
every tree is sharp as a spear-point and is
curved and clutching. There is a deep gulf
to be gone through," she said, "a place of
silence and terror, full of dumb, venomous
monsters. There is an immense oak forest
— dark, dense, thorny, a place to be strayed

276

IX BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

in, a place to be utterly bewildered and lost
in. There is a vast dark wilderness, and
therein is a dark house, lonely and full of
echoes, and in it there are seven gloomy hags,
who are warned already of your coming and
are waiting to plimge you in a bath of
molten lead."

"It is not a choice journey," said Art,
"but I have nadhfoice and must go."

"Should you pass those hags," she con-
tinued, "and no one has yet passed them,
you must meet Ailill of die Black Teeth,
the son of Mongan Tender Blossom, and
who could pass that gigantic and terrible
fighter?"

"It is not easy to find the daughter of
Morgan," said Art in a melancholy voice.

"It is not easy," Crede replied eagerly,
"and if you will take my advice "

"Advise me," he broke in, "for in truth
there is no man standing in such need of
counsel as I do."

"I would advise you," said Crede in a
low voice, "to seek no more for the sweet
daughter of Morgan, but to stay in this
place where all that is lovely is at your
service."

277

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"But, but *' cried Art in astonish-
ment.

"Am I not as sweet as the daughter of
Morgan?" she demanded, and she stood be-
fore him queenly and pleadingly, and her
eyes took his with imperious tenderness.

"By my hand," he answered, "you arc
sweeter and lovelier than any being under
the sun, but "

"And with me," she said, "you will forget
Ireland."

"I am under bonds," cried Art, "I have
passed my word, and I would not forget
Ireland or cut myself from it for all the
kingdoms of the Many-Coloured Land."

Crede urged no more at that time, but as
they were parting she whispered, "There
are two girls, sisters of my own, in Morgan's
palace. They will come to you with a cup
in either hand; one cup will be filled with
wine and one with poison. Drink from the
right-hand cup, O my dear."

Art stepped into his coracle, and then,
wringing her hands, she made yet an attempt
to dissuade him from that drear joumey.

"Do not leave me," she urged. "Do not
aflPront these dangers. Aroimd the palace

278

X BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

of Morgan there is a palisade of copper
spikes, and on the top of each spike the head
of a man grins and shrivels. There is one
spike only which bears no head, and it is for
your head that spike is waiting. Do not go
there, my love."

"I must go indeed," said Art earnestly.

"There is yet a danger," she called.
"Beware of Delvcaem's mother. Dog Head,
daughter of the King of the Dog Heads.
Beware of her."

"Indeed," said Art to himself, "there is
so much to beware of that I will beware of
nothing. I will go about my business," he
said to the waves, "and I will let those be-
ings and monsters and the people of the Dog
Heads go about their business."

CHAPTER X

He went forward in his light bark, and at
some moment found that he had parted from
those seas and was adrift on vaster and more
turbulent billows. From those dark-green
surges there gaped at him monstrous and
cavernous jaws; and round, wicked, red-
rimmed, bulging eyes stared fixedly at the

279

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

boat. A ridge of inky water rashed foaming
mountainously on his board, and behind that
ridge came a vast warty head that gurgled
and groaned. But at these vile creatures he
thrust with his lengthy spear or stabbed at
closer reach with a dagger.

He was not spared one of the terrors
which had been foretold. Thus, in the dark
thick oak forest he slew the seven hags and
buried them in the molten lead which they
had heated for him. He climbed an icy
mountain, the cold breath of which seemed
to slip into his body and chip off inside of
his bones, and there, until he mastered the
sort of climbing on ice, for each step that
he took upwards he slipped back ten steps.
Almost his heart gave way before he learned
to climb that venomous hill. In a forked
glen into which he slipped at nightfall he
was surrounded by giant toads, who spat
poison, and were icy as the land they lived
in, and were cold and foul and savage. At
Sliav Saev he encountered the long-maned
lions who lie in wait for the beasts of the
world, growling woefully as they squat
above their prey and crunch those terrified
bones. He came on Ailill of the Black

280

X BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

Teeth sitting on the bridge that spanned a
torrent, and the grim giant was grinding his
teeth on a pillar stone. Art drew nigh un-
observed and brought him low.

It was not for nothing that these diffi-
culties and dangers were in his path. These
things and creatures were the invention of
Dog Head, the wife of Morgan, for it had
become known to her that she would die on
the day her daughter was wooed. Therefore
none of the dangers encountered by Art were
real, but were magical chimeras conjured
against him by the great witch.

Affronting all, conquering all, he came in
time to Morgan's dun, a place so lovely that
after the miseries through which he had
struggled he almost wept to see beauty
again.

Delvcaem knew that he was coming. She
was waiting for him, yearning for him. To
her mind Art was not only love, he was
freedom, for the poor girl was a captive in
her father's home. A great pillar an hun-
dred feet high had been built on the roof of
Morgan's palace, and on the top of this
pillar a tiny room had been constructed, and
in this room Delvcaem was a prisoner.

281

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

She was lovelier in shape than any other
princess of the Many-Coloured Land. She
was wiser than all the other women of that
land, and she was skilful in music, em-
broidery, and chastity, and in all else that
pertained to the knowledge of a queen.

Although Delvcaem's mother wished
nothing but ill to Art, she yet treated him
with the courtesy proper in a queen on the
one hand and fitting towards the son of the
King of Ireland on the other. Therefore,
when Art entered the palace he was met and
kissed, and he was bathed and clothed and
fed. Two young girls came to him then,
having a cup in each of their hands, and
presented him with the kingly drink, but,
remembering the warning which Crede had
given him, he drank only from the right-
hand cup and escaped the poison.

Next he was visited by Delvcaem's
mother. Dog Head, daughter of the King of
the Dog Heads, and Morgan's queen. She
was dressed in full armour, and she chal-
lenged Art to fight with her.

It was a woeful combat, for there was no
craft or sagacity unknown to her, and Art
would infallibly have perished by her hand

282

X BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

but that her days were numbered, her star
was out, and her time had come. It was her
head that rolled on the ground when the
C(xnbat was over, and it was her head that
grinned and shrivelled on the vacant spike
which she had reserved for Art's.

Then Art liberated Delvcaem from her
prison at the top of the pillar and they were
afGanced together. But the ceremony had
scarcely been completed when the tread of
a single man caused the palace to quake and
seemed to jar the world.

It was Morgan returning to the palace.

The gloomy king challenged him to com-
bat also, and in his honour Art put on the
battle harness which he had brought from
Ireland. He wore a breastplate and helmet
of gold, a mantle of blue satin swung from
his shoulders, his left hand was thrust into
the grips of a purple shield, deeply bossed
with silver, and in the other hand he held
the wide-grooved, blue-hilted sword which
had rung so often into fights and combats,
and joyous feats and exercises.

Up to this time the trials through which
he had passed had seemed so great that they
could not easily be added to. But if all

283

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

those trials had been gathered mto one vast
calamity they would not equal one half of
the rage and catastrophe of his war with
Morgan.

For what he could not effect by arms
Morgan would endeavour by guile, so that
while Art drove at him or parried a crafty
blow, the shape of Morgan changed before
his eyes, and the monstrous king was having
at him in another form, and frcxn a new
direction.

It was well for the son of the Ard-Ri that
he had been beloved by the poets and ma-
gicians of his land, and that they had taught
him all that was known of shape-changing
and words of power.

He had need of all these.

At times, for the weapon must change
with the enemy, they fought with their fore-
heads as two giant stags, and the crash of
their monstrous onslaught rolled and lin-
gered on the air long after their skulls had
parted. Then as two lions, long-clawed,
deep-mouthed, snarling, with rigid mane,
with red-eyed glare, with flashing, sharp-
white fangs, they prowled lithely about each
other seeking for an opening. And then as

284

X BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

two green-ridged, white-topped, broad-
swung, overwhelming, vehement billows of
the deep, they met and crashed and sank into
and rolled away from each other; and the
noise of these two waves was as the roar of
all ocean when the howl of the tempest is
drowned in the league-long fury of the
surge.

But when the wife's time has ccMne the
husband is doomed. He is required else-
where by his beloved, and Morgan went to
rejoin his queen in the world that comes
after the Many-Coloured Land, and his
victor shore that knowledgeable head away
f rcMn its giant shoulders.

He did not tarry in the Many-Coloured
Land, for he had nothing further to seek
there. He gathered the things which
pleased him best from among the treasures
of its grisly king, and with Delvcaem by his
side they stepped into the coracle.

Then, setting their minds on Ireland,
they went there as it were in a flash.

The waves of all the worlds seemed to
whirl past them in one huge green cataract.
The sound of all these oceans boomed in
their ears for one eternal instant. Nothing

285

IMSH FAIRY TALES CH.

was for that moment but a vast roar and
pour of waters. Thence they swung into a
silence equally vast, and so sudden that it
was as thimderous in the C(Hnparison as was
the elemental rage they quitted. For a time
they sat panting, staring at each other, hold-
ing each other, lest not only their lives but
their very souls should be swirled away in
the gusty passage of world within world;
and then, looking abroad, they saw the small
bright waves creaming by the rocks of Ben
Edair, and they blessed the power that had
guided and protected them, and they blessed
the comely land of Ir.

On reaching Tara, Delvcaem, who was
more powerful in art and magic than Be-
cuma, ordered the latter to go away, and
she did so.

She left the king's side. She came from
the midst of the counsellors and magicians.
She did not bid farewell to any one. She
did not say good-bye to the king as she set
out for Ben Edair.

Where she could go to no man knew, for
she had been banished from the Many-
Coloured Land and could not return there.
She was forbidden entry to the Shi by Angus

286

X BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN

Og, and she could not remain in Ireland.
She went to Sasana and she became a queen
in that country, and it was she who fostered
the rage against the Holy Land which has
iv)t ceased to this day.

287

MONGAN^S FRENZY

CHAPTER I

The abbot of the Monastery of Moville
sent word to the story-tellers of Ireland that
when they were in his neighbourhood they
should call at the monastery, for he wished
to collect and write down the stories which
were in danger of being forgotten.

"These things also must be told," said he.

In particular he wished to gather tales
which told of the deeds that had been done
before the Gospel came to Ireland.

"For," said he, "there are very good
tales among those ones, and it would be a
pity if the people who come after us should
be ignorant of what happened long ago, and
of the deeds of their fathers."

So, whenever a story-teller chanced in
that neighbourhood he was directed to

288

CH. I MONGAN'S FRENZY

the monastery, and there he received a wel-
come and his fill of all that is good for
man.

The abbot's manuscript boxes began to
fill up, and he used to regard that growing
store with pride and joy. In the evenings,
when the days grew short and the light went
early, he would call for some one of these
manuscripts and have it read to him by
candle-light, in order that he might satisfy
himself that it was as good as he had judged
it to be on the previous hearing.

One day a story-teller came to the
monastery, and, like all the others, he was
heartily welc(Miied and given a great deal
more than his need. .^ - — y^

He said that his name w^s Cairide,^and
that he had a story to tell whicLjcould hot be
bettered among the stories of Ireland.

The abbot's eyes glistened when he heard
that. He rubbed his hands together and
smiled on his guest.

"What is the name of your story?" he
asked.

"It is called 'Mongan's Frenzy.' "

"I never heard of it before," cried the
abbot joyfully.

289

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

€€^

1 am the only man that knows it,"
Cairide replied.

"But how does that come about?" the
abbot inquired.

"Because it belongs to my family," the
story-teller answered. "There was a
Cairide of my nation with Mongan when he
went into Faery. This Cairide listened to
the story when it was first told. Then he
told it to his son, and his son told it to his
son, and that son's great-great-grandBon's
son told it to his son's son, and he told it to
my father, and my father told it to me."

"And you shall tell it to me," cried the
abbot triumphantly.

"I will indeed," said Cairide.

Vellum was then brought and quills. The
copyists sat at their tables. Ale was placed
beside the story-teller, and he told this tale
to the abbot.

CHAPTER II

Said Cairide:

Mongan's wife at that time was Bro-
tiama, the Flame Lady. She was passion-

290

II MONGAN'S FRENZY

ate and fierce, and because the blood would
flood suddenly to her cheek, so that she who
had seemed a lily became, while you looked
upon her, a rose, she was called Flame Lady.
She loved Mongan with ecstasy and aban-
don, and for that also he called her Flame
Lady.

But there may have been something of
calculation even in her wildest moment, for
if she was delighted in her affection she was
tormented in it also, as are all those who
love the great ones of life and strive to equal
themselves where equality is not possible.

For her husband was at once more than
himself and less than himself. He was less
than himself because he was now Mongan.
He was more than himself because he was
one who had long disappeared from the
world of men. His lament had been simg
and his funeral games played many, many
years before, and Brotiarna sensed in him
secrets, experiences, knowledges in which
she could have no part, and for which she
was greedily envious.

So she was continually asking him little,
simple questions a propos of every kind of
thing. /

/291

IMSH FAffiY TALES ch.

She weighed all that he said on whatever
subject, and when he talked in his sleep she
listened to his dream.

The knowledge that she gleaned from
those listenings tormented her far more than
it satisfied her, for the names of other women
were continually on his lips, sometimes in
terms of dear affection, sometimes in accents
of anger or despair, and in his sleep he spoke
familiarly of people whom the story-tellers
told of, but who had been dead for centu-
ries. Therefore she was perplexed, and
became filled with a very rage of curi-
osity.

Among the names which her husband
mentioned there was one which, because of
the frequency with which it appeared, and
because of the tone of anguish and love and
longing in which it was uttered, she thought
of oftener than the others: this name was
Duv Laca. Although she questioned and
cross-questioned Cairide, her story-teller, she
could discover nothing about a lady who
had been known as the Dark Lady of the
Lake. But one night when Mongan seemed
to speak with Duv Laca he mentioned her
father as Fiachna Duv mac Demain, and

292

Ill MONGAN'S FRENZY

the story-teller said that king had been dead
for a vast number of years.

She asked her husband then, boldly, to
tell her the story of Duv Laca, and under
the influence of their mutual love he prom-
ised to tell it to her some time, but each
time she reminded him of his promise he be-
came confused, and said that he would tell:
it some other time.

As time went on the poor Flame Lady
grew more and more jealous of Duv Laca,
and more and more certain that, if only she
could know what had happened, she would
get some ease to her tormented heart and
some assuagement of her perfectly natural
curiosity. Therefore she lost no opportu-
nity of reminding Mongan of his promise,
and on each occasion he renewed the promise
and put it back to another time.

CHAPTER III

In the year when Ciaran the son of the
Carpenter died, the same year when Tuathal
Maelgariv was killed and the year when
Diarmait the son of Cerrbel became King of
all Ireland, the year 538 of our era in short,

293

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

it happened that there was a great gathering
of the men of Ireland at the Hill of Uis-
neach in Royal Meath.

In addition to the Council which was
being held, there were games and tourna-
ments and brilliant deployments of troops,
and universal f eastings and enjoyments.
The gathering lasted for a week, and on the
last day of the week Mongan was moving
through the crowd with seven guards, his
story-teller Cairide, and his wife.

It had been a beautiful day, with brilliant
simshine and great sport, but suddenly
clouds began to gather in the sky to the
west, and others came rashing blackly from
the east. When these clouds met the world
went dark for a space, and there fell from
the sky a shower of hailstones, so large that
each man wondered at their size, and so
swift and heavy that the women and young
people of the host screamed from the pain
of the blows they received.

Mongan's men made a roof of their
shields, and the hailstones battered on the
shields so terribly that even under them
they were afraid. They began to move away
f rcMn the host looking for shelter, and when

294

IV MONGAN'S FRENZY

they had gone apart a little way they turned
the edge of a small hill and a knoll of trees,
and in the twinkling of an eye they were in
fair weather.

One minute they heard the clashing and
bashing of the hailstones, the howling of the
venomous wind, the screams of women and
the uproar of the crowd on the Hill of Uis-
neach, and the next minute they heard noth-
ing more of those sounds and saw nothing
more of these sights, for they had been per-,
mitted to go at one step out of the world of
men and into the world of Faery.

CHAPTER IV

There is a difference between this world
and the world of Faery, but it is not imme-
diately perceptible. Everything that is here ;
is there, but the things that are there are
better than those that are here. All things
that are bright are there brighter. There is
more gold in the sun and more silver in the •
moon of that land. There is more scent in
the flowers, more savour in the fruit. There ?
is more comeliness in the men and more ten- (
demess in the women. Everything in Faery '^

295

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

is better by this one wonderful degree, and
it is by this bettemess you will know that
you are there if you should ever happen to
get there.

Mongan and his companions stepped
from the world of storm into sunshine and a
scented world. The instant they stepped
they stood, bewildered, looking at each
other silently, questioningly, and then with
one accord they turned to look back whence
they had come.

There was no storai behind them. The
sunlight drowsed there as it did in front, a
peaceful flooding of living gold. They saw
the shapes of the country to which their eyes
were accustomed, and recognised the well-
known landmarks, but it seemed that the
distant hills were a trifle higher, and the
grass which clothed them and stretched be-
tween was greener, was more velvety: that
the trees were better clothed and had more
of peace as they hung over the quiet ground.

But Mongan knew what had happened,
and he smiled with glee as he watched his
astonished companions, and he sniffed that
balmy air as one whose nostrils remem-
bered it.

296

IV MONGAN'S FRENZY

"You had better come with me," he said.

"Where are we?" his wife asked.

"Why, we are here," cried Mongan;
"where else should we be?"

He set off then, and the others followed,
staring about them cautiously, and each
man keeping a hand on the hilt of his
sword.

"Are we in Faery?" the Flame Lady
asked.

"We are," said Mongan.

When they had gone a little distance they
came to a grove of ancient trees. Mightily
tall and well-grown these trees were, and the
trunk of each could not have been spanned
by ten broad men. As they went among
these quiet giants into the dappled obscurity
and silence, their thoughts became grave and
all the motions of their minds elevated, as
though they must equal in greatness and
dignity those ancient and glorious trees.
When they passed through the grove they
saw a lovely house before them, built of
mellow wood and with a roof of bronze —
it was like the dwelling of a king, and over
the windows of the Sunny Room there was a
balcony. There were ladies on this balcony,

297

IRISH FAIRY TALES CH.

and when they saw the travellers approach-
ing they sent messengers to welcome them.

Mongan and his companions were then
brought into the house, and all was done for
them that could be done for honoured guests.
Everything within the house was as excel-
lent as all without, and it was inhabited by
seven men and seven women, and it was evi-
dent that Mongan and these people were
well acquainted.

In the evening a feast was prepared, and
when they had eaten well there was a ban-
quet. There were seven vats of wine, and
as Mongan loved wine he was very happy,
and he drank more on that occasion than any
one had ever noticed him to drink before.

It was while he was in this condition of
glee and expansion that the Flame Lady put
her arms about his neck and begged he would
tell her the story of Duv Laca, and, being
boisterous then and full of good spirits, he
agreed to her request, and he prepared to tell
the tale.

The seven men and seven women of the
Fairy Palace then took their places about
him in a half-circle; his own seven guards
sat behind them; his wife, the Flame Lady,

298

MONGAN'S FRENZY

sat by his side; and at the back of all ^
Cairide his story-teller sat, listening with all y/
his ears, and remembering every word that
was uttered.

CHAPTER V

Said Mongan :

In the days of long ago and the times
that have disappeared for ever, there was
one Fiachna Finn the son of Baltan, the son
of Murchertach, the son of Muredach, the
son of Eogan, the son of Neill. He went
from his own coimtry when he was young,
for he wished to see the land of Lochlann,
and he knew that he would be welcomed by
the king of that coimtry, for Fiachna's fa-
ther and Eolgarg's father had done deeds in
common and were obliged to each other.

He was welcomed, and he stayed at the
0)urt of Lochlann in great ease and in the
midst of pleasures.

It then happened that Eolgarg Mor fell
sick and the doctors could not cure him.
They sent for other doctors, but they could
not cure him, nor could any one say what
he was suffering from, beyond that he was

299

^ ^'

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

wasting visibly before their eyes, and would
certainly become a shadow and disappear
in air unless he was healed and fattened and
made visible.

They sent for more distant doctors, and
then for others more distant still, and at last
they foimd a man who claimed that he could
make a cure if the king were supplied with
the medicine which he would order.

"What medicine is that?" said they all.

"This is the medicine," said the doctor.
"Find a perfectly white cow with red ears,
and boil it down in the lump, and if the
king drinks that rendering he will re-
cover."

Before he had well said it messengers
were going from the palace in all directions
looking for such a cow. They found lots of
cows which were nearly like what they
wanted, but it was only by chance they came
on the cow which would do the work, and
that beast belonged to the most notorious
and malicious and cantankerous female in
Lochlann, the Black Hag. Now the Black
Hag was not only those things that have
been said ; she was also whiskered and warty
and one-eyed and obstreperous, and she was

300

VI MONGAN'S FRENZY

notorious and ill-favoured in many other
ways also.

They offered her a cow in the place of
her own cow, but she refused to give it.
Then they offered a cow for each leg of her
cow, but she would not accept that offer un-
less Fiachna went bail for the payment. He
agreed to do iso, and they drove the beast
away.

Ota the return journey he was met by
messengers who brought news from Ireland.
They said that the King of Ulster was dead,
and that he, Fiachna Finn, had been elected
king in the dead king's place. He at once
took ship for Ireland, and foimd that all he
had been told was true, and he took up the
government of Ulster.

CHAPTER VI

A YEAR passed, and one day as he was sitting
at judgement there came a great noise from
witfiout, and this noise was so persistent that
the people and suitors were scandalised, and
Fiachna at last ordered that the noisy
person should be brought before him to be
judged.

301

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

It was done, and to his surprise the person
turned out to be the Black Hag.

She blamed him in the court before his
people, and complained that he had taken
away her cow, and that she had not been
paid the four cows he had gone bail for, and
she demanded judgement from him and
justice.

"If you will consider it to b^ justice, I
will give you twenty cows myself," said
Fiachna.

"I would not take all the cows in Ulster,"
she screamed.

"Pronounce judgement yourself," said the
king, "and if I can do what you demand I
will do it."" For he did not like to be in the
wrong, and he did not wish that any per-
son should have an unsatisfied claim upon
him.

The Black Hag then pronoimced judge-
ment, and the king had to fulfil it.

"I have come," said she, "from the east
to the west; you must come from the west
to the east and and make war for me, and re-
venge me on the King of Lochlann."

Fiachna had to do as she demanded, and,
although it was with a heavy heart, he set

302

VI MONGAN'S FRENZY

out in three days' time for Lochlann, and he
brought with him ten battalions.

He sent messengers before him to Big
Eolgarg warning him of his coming, of his \/
intention, and of the number of troops he
was bringing; and when he landed Eolgarg
met him with an equal force, and they fought
together.

In the first battle three hundred of the
men of Lochlann were killed, but in the next
battle Eolgarg Mor did not fight fair, for he
let some venomous sheep out of a tent, and s^
these attacked the men of Ulster and killed
nine hundred of them.

So vast was the slaughter made by these
sheep and so great the terror they caused,
that no one could stand before them, but by
great good luck there was a wood at hand,
and the men of Ulster, warriors and princes
and charioteers, were forced to climb up the
trees, and they roosted among the branches
like great birds, while the venomous sheep
ranged below bleating terribly and tearing
up the ground.

Fiachna Finn was also sitting in a tree,
very high up, and he was disconsolate,

"We are disgraced !" said he.

303

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"It is very lucky," said the man in the
branch below, "that a sheep cannot climb a
tree."

"We are disgraced for ever!" said the
King of Ulster.

"If those sheep learn how to climb, we are
undone surely," said the man below.

"I will go down and fight the sheep," said
Fiachna.

But the others would not let the king go.
"It is not right," they said, "that you
should fight sheep."

"Some one must fight them," said Fiachna
I Finn, "but no more of my men shall die imtil
/ I fight myself ; for if I am fated to die, I will
! y die and I cannot escape it, and if it is the
V sheep's fate to die, then die they will; for
\ there is no man can avoid destiny, and there
\ is no sheep can dodge it either."

"Praise be to god !" said the warrior that
was higher up.

"Amen!" said the man who was higher
than he, and the rest of the warriors wished
good luck to the king.

He started then to climb down the tree
with a heavy heart, but while he hung from
the last branch and was about to let go, he

304

VII MONGAN'S FRENZY

noticed a tall warrior walking towards him.
The king pulled himself up on the branch
again and sat dangle-legged on it to see what
the warrior would do.

The stranger was a very tall man, dressed
in a green cloak with a silver brooch at the
shoulder. He had a golden band about his
hair and golden sandals on his feet, and he
was laughing heartily at the plight of the
men of Ireland.

CHAPTER VII

"It is not nice of you to laugh at us," said
Fiachna Finn.

"Who could help laughing at a king -
hunkering on a branch and his army roosting /
around him like hens?" said the stranger.

"Nevertheless," the king replied, "it
would be courteous of you not to laugh at
misfortune."

"We laugh when we can," commented the #
stranger, "and are thankful for the chance." ^

"You may come up into the tree," said
Fiachna, "for I perceive that you are a man-
nerly person, and I see that some of the

305

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

venomous sheep are charging in this direc-
tion. I would rather protect you," he con-
tinued, "than see you killed; for," said he
lamentably, "I am getting down now to
fight the sheep."

"They will not hurt me," said the
stranger.

"Who are you?" the king asked.

"I am Manannan, the son of Lir."

Fiachna knew then that the stranger could
not be hurt.

"What will you give me if I deliver you
from the sheep?" asked Manannan.

"I will give you anything you ask, if I
have that thing." y

"I ask the rights of your crown and of
your household for one day."

Fiachna's breath was taken away by that
request, and he took a little time to compose
himself, then he said mildly:

"I will not have one man of Ireland killed
if I can save him. All that I have they give
me, all that I have I give to them, and if I
must give this also, then I will give this,
although it would be easier for me to give
my life."

"That is agreed," said Manannan.

306

vu MONGAN'S FRENZY

He had something wrapped in a fold of
his cloak, and he unwrapped and produced
this thing.

It was a dog.

Now if the sheep were venomous, this dogy'
was more venomous still, for it was fearful'
to look at. In a body it was not large, but
its head was of a great size, and the mouth
that was shaped in that head was able to
open like the lid of a pot. It was not teeth
which were in that head, but hooks and fangs
and prongs. Dreadful was that mouth to
look at, terrible to look into, woeful to think
about ; and from it, or from the broad, loose
nose that waggled above it, there came a
soimd which no word of man could describe,
for it was not a snarl, nor was it a howl, al-
though it was both of these. It was neither
a growl nor a grunt, although it was both of
these; it was not a yowl nor a groan, al-
though it was both of these: for it was one
sound made up of these soimds, and there
was in it, too, a whine and a yelp, and a
long-drawn snoring noise, and a deep pur-
ring noise, and a noise that was like the
squeal of a rasty hinge, and there were other
noises in it also.

307

^ IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

"The gods be praised !" said the man who
^^was in the branch above the king.

"What for this time?" said the king.

"Because that dog cannot climb a tree,"
said the man.

And the man on a branch yet above him
groaned out, "Amen!"

"There is nothing to frighten sheep like
a dog," said Manannan, "and there is noth-
ing to frighten these sheep like this dog."

He put the dog on the groimd then.

"Little dogeen, little treasure," said he,
"go and kill the sheep."

And when he said that the dog put an
addition and an addendimi on to the noise
he had been making before, so that the men
of Ireland stuck their fingers into their ears
and turned the whites of their eyes upwards,
and nearly fell off their branches with the
fear and the fright which that soimd put
into them.

It did not take the dog long to do what he
had been ordered. He went forward, at
first, with a slow waddle, and as the venom-
ous sheep came to meet him in bounces, he
then went to meet them in wriggles ; so that
in a while he went so fast that you could see

308

VH MONGAN'S FRENZY

nothing of him but a head and a wriggle.
He dealt with the sheep in this way, a jump
and a chop for each, and he never missed nis
jump and he never missed his chop. When
he got his grip he swung round on it as if it
was a hinge. The swing began with the
chop, and it ended with the bit loose and the
sheep giving its last kick. At the end of ten
minutes all the sheep were lying on the
ground, and the same bit was out of every
sheep, and every sheep was dead.

"You can come down now," said Man-
annan.

"That dog can't climb a tree," said the
man in the branch above the king wamingly.

"Praise be to the gods!" said the man
who was above him.

"Amen !" said the warrior who was hi^er
up than that.

And the man in the next tree said :

"Don't move a hand or foot until the dog
chokes himself to death on the dead meat."

The dog, however, did not eat a bit of the
meat. He trotted to his master, and
Manannan took him up and wrapped him in
his cloak.

"Now you can come down," said he.

309

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"I wish that dog was dead !" said the king.

But he swung himself out of the tree all
the same, for he did not wish to seem fright-
ened before Manannan.

"You can go now and beat the men of
L-ochlann/' said Manannan. "You will be
King of Lochlann before nightfall."
y/ "I wouldn't mind that," said the king.

"It's no threat," said Manannan.

The son of Lir turned then and went away
in the direction of Ireland to take up his
one-day rights, and Fiachna continued his
battle with the Lochlannachs.

He beat them before nightfall, and by
that victory he became King of Lochlann
and King of the Saxons and the Britons.

He gave the Black Hag seven castles with
y their territories, and he gave her one hundred
V of every sort of cattle that he had captured.
She was satisfied.

Then he went back to Ireland, and after
he had been there for some time his wife gave
birth to a son.

310

VIII MONGAN'S FRENZY

CHAPTER VIII

"You have not told me one word about Duv
Laca," said the Flame Lady reproachfully.

"I am coming to that," replied Mongan.

He motioned towards one of the great
vats, and wine was brought to him, of which
he drank so joyously and so deeply that all
people wondered at his thirst, his capacity,
and his jovial spirits.

"Now, I will begin again."

Said Mongan:

There was an attendant in Fiachna Finn's
palace who was called An Dav, and the
same night that Fiachna's wife bore a son,
the wife of An Dav gave birth to a son also.
This latter child was called mac an Dav, but
the son of Fiachna's wife was named
Mongan.

"Ah !" muraiured the Flame Lady.

The queen was angry. She said it was un-
just and presumptuous that the servant
should get a child at the same time that she
got one herself, but there was no help for it,
because the child was there and could not be
obliterated.

311

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

Now this also must be told.
There was a neighbouring prince called
Fiachna Duv, and he was the ruler of the
Dal Fiatach. For a long time he had been
at enmity and spiteful warfare with Fiachna
Finn; and to this Fiachna Duv there was
bom in the same night a daughter, and this
girl was named Duv Laca of the White
• Hand.

"Ah !" cried the Flame Lady.
"You see!" said Mongan, and he drank
anew and joyously of the fairy wine.

In order^to end the trouble between

tjfiachna Finn and Fiachna Duv the babies

^^wtrt affianced to each other in the cradle on

the day after they were bom, and the men of

Ireland rejoiced at that deed and at that

news. But soon there came dismay and sor-

Kj J ^^^ ^^ ^^^ land, for when the little Mongan

y" ^y)^ ^ was three days old his real father,

^ yV^ Manannan the son of Lir, appeared in the

middle of the palace. He wrapped Mongan
P in his green cloak and took him away to rear

and train in the Land of Promise, which is
y beyond the sea that is at the other side of the
grave.

When Fiachna Duv heard that Mongan,

312

^ the

IX MONGAN'S FRENZY

who was affianced to his daughter Duv Laca,
had disappeared, he considered that his com-
pact of peace was at an end, and one day he
came by surprise and attacked the palace.
He killed Fiachna Finn in that battle, and
he crowned himself King of Ulster.

The men of Ulster disliked him, and they
petitioned Manannan to bring Mongan back,
but Manannan would not do this imtil the
boy was sixteen years of age and well reared
in the wisdom of the Land of Promise.
Then he did bring Mongan back, and by his
means peace was made between Mongan and
Fiachna Duv, and Mongan was married to
his cradle-bride, the young Duv Laca.

CHAPTER IX

One day Mongan and Duv Laca were play-
ing chess in their palace. Mongan had just
made a move of skill, and he looked up from
the board to see if Duv Laca seemed as dis-
contented as she had a right to be. He saw
then over Duv Laca's shoulder a little black-
faced, tufty-headed cleric leaning against
the door-post inside the room.

313

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

"What are you doing there?" said
Mongan.

"What are you doing there yourself?"
said the little black-faced cleric.

"Indeed, I have a right to be in my own
house," said Mongan.

"Indeed I do not agree with you," said
the cleric.

"Where ought I to be then?" said
Mongan.

"You ought to be at Dun Fiathac aveng-
ing the murder of your father," replied the
cleric, "and you ought to be ashamed of
yourself for not having done it long ago:
You can play chess with your wife when you
have won the right to leisure."

"But how can I kill my wife's father?"
Mongan exclaimed.

"By starting about it at once," said the
cleric.

"Here is a way of talking!" said Mongan.

"I know," the cleric continued, "that Duv
Laca will not agree with a word I say on this
subject, and that she will try to prevent you
from doing what you have a right to do, for
that is a wife's business, but a man's business
is to do what I have just told you; so come

IX MONGAN'S FRENZY

with me now and do not wait to think about
it, and do not wait to play any more chess.
Fiachna Duv has only a small force with
him at this moment, and we can bum his
palace as he burned your father's palace, and
kill him as he killed your father, and crown
you King of Ulster rightfully the way he
crowned himself wrongfully as a king."

"I begin to think that you own a lucky
tongue, my black-faced friend," said Mon-
gan, "and I will go with you."

He collected his forces then, and he
bumed Fiachna Duv's fortress, and he killed
Fiachna Duv, and he was crowned King of
Ulster.

Then for the first time he felt secure and
at liberty to play chess. But he did not
know imtil afterwards that the black-faced,
tufty-headed person was his father Man-
annan, although that was the fact.

There are some who say, however, that
Fiachna the Black was killed in the year 624
by the lord of the Scot's Dal Riada, Q)ndad
Ccrr, at the battle of Ard Carainn; but the
people who say this do not know what they
are talking about, and they do not care
greatly what it is they say.

315

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

CHAPTER X

"There is nothing to marvel about in this
Duv Laca," said the Flame Lady scornfully.
^"She has got married, and she has been
beaten at chess. It has happened before."

"Let us keep to the story," said Mongan,
and, having taken some few dozen deep
draughts of the wine, he became even more
jovial than before. Then he recommenced
his tale :

It happened on a day that Mongan had
need of treasure. He had many presents
to make, and he had not as much gold and
silver and cattle as was proper for a king.
He called his nobles together and discussed
what was the best thing to be done, and it
was arranged that he should visit the pro-
vincial kings and ask boons from them.

He set out at once on his round of visits,
and the first province he went to was
Leinster.

The King of Leinster at that time was
Branduv, the son of Exhach. He welcomed
Mongan and treated him well, and that
ni^t Mongan slept in his palace.

316

X MONGAN'S FRENZY

When he awoke in the morning he looked
out of a lofty window, and he saw on the
sunny lawn before the palace a herd of cows.
There were fifty cows in all, for he counted
them, and each cow had a calf beside her,
and each cow and calf was pure white in
colour, and each of them had red ears.

When Mongan saw these cows he fell in
love with them as he had never fallen in love
with anything before.

He came down from the window and
walked on the sunny lawn among the cows,
looking at each of them and speaking words
of affection and endearment to them all;
and while he was thus walking and talking
and looking and loving, he noticed that some
one was moving beside him. He looked
from the cows then, and saw that the King
of Leinster was at his side.

"Are you in love with the cows?" Branduv
asked him.

"I am," said Mongan.

"Everybody is," said the King of Lein-
ster.

"I never saw anything like them," said
Mongan.

"Nobody has," said the King of Leinster.

317

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

"I never saw anything I would rather
have than these cows," said Mongan.

"These," said the King of Leinster, "are
the most beautiful cows in Ireland, and," he
continued thoughtfully, "Duv Laca is the
most beautiful woman in Ireland."

"There is no lie in what you say," said
Mongan.

"Is it not a queer thing," said the King
of Leinster, "that I should have what you
want with all your soul, and you should
have what I want with all my heart."

"Queer indeed," said Mongan, "but what
is it that you do want?"

"Duv Laca, of course," said the King of
Leinster.

"Do you mean," said Mongan, "that you
V'would exchange this herd of fifty pure white
cows having red ears "

"And their fifty calves," said the King of
Leinster —

"For Duv Laca, or for any woman in the
world?"

"I would," cried the King of Leinster, and
he thumped his knee as he said it.

"Done," roared Mongan, and the two
kings shook hands on the bargain.

318

XI MONGAN'S FRENZY

Mongan then called some of his own peo-
ple, and before any more words could be
said and before any alteration could be made,
he set his men behind the cows and marched
home with them to Ulster.

CHAPTER XI

Duv Laca wanted to know where the cows
came from, and Mongan told her that the
King of Leinster had given them to him.
She fell in love with them as Mongan had
done, but there was nobody in the world
could have avoided loving those cows: such
cows they were! such wonders! Mongan
and Duv Laca used to play chess together,
and then they would go out together to look
at the cows, and then they would go in to-
gether and would talk to each other about
the cows. Everything they did they did to-
gether, for they loved to be with each other.

However, a change came.

One morning a great noise of voices and
trampling of horses and rattle of armour
came about the palace. Mongan looked
from the window.

"Who is coming?" asked Duv Laca.

319

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

But he did not answer her.

"This noise must announce the visit of a
king," Duv Laca continued.

But Mongan did not say a word.

Duv Laca 'then went to the window.

Who is that king?" she asked.

And her husband replied to her then:

"That is the King of Leinster," said he
mournfully.

*Well," said Duv Laca, surprised, "is he
not welcome?"

"He is welcome indeed," said Mongan
lamentably.

"Let us go out and welcome him prop-
erly," Duv Laca suggested.

"Let us not go near him at all," said
Mongan, "for he is coming to complete his
bargain."

"What bargain are you talking about?"
Duv Laca asked.

But Mongan would not answer that.

"Let us go out," said he, "for we must
go out."

Mongan and Duv Laca went out then and
welcomed the King of Leinster. They
brought him and his chief men into the
palace, and water was brought for their

320

MONGAN'S FRENZY

baths, and rooms were appointed for them,
and everything was done that should be
done for guests.

That night there was a feast, and after
the feast there was a banquet, and all
through the feast and the banquet the King
of Leinster stared at Duv Laca with joy, and
sometimes his breast was delivered of great
sighs, and at times he moved as though in
perturbation of spirit and mental agony.

"There is something wrong with the King
of Leinster," Duv Laca whispered.

"I don't care if there is," said Mongan.

"You must ask what he wants."

"But I don't want to know it," said
Mongan.

"Nevertheless, you must ask him," she
insisted.

So Mongan did ask him, and it was in a
melancholy voice that he asked it.

"Do you want anything?" said he to the
King of Leinster.

"I do indeed," said Branduv.

**If it is in Ulster I will get it for you,"
said Mongan mournfully.

"It is in Ulster," said Branduv.

Mongan did not want to say an3rthing

321

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

more then, but the King of Leinster was so
intent and everybody else was listening and
Duv Laca was nudging his arm, so he said :

"What is it that you do want?"

"I want Duv Laca."

"I want her too," said Mongan.

"You made your bargain," said the King
of Leinster, "my cows and their calves for
your Duv Laca, and the man that makes a
bargain keeps a bargain."

"I never before heard," said Mongan, "of
a man giving away his own wife."

"Even if you never heard of it before,
you must do it now," said Duv Laca, "for
honour is longer than life."

Mongan became angry when Duv Laca
said that. His face went red as a simset,
and the veins swelled in his neck and his
forehead.

"Do you say that?" he cried to Duv Laca.

"I do," said Duv Laca.

"Let the King of Leinster take her," said
Mongan.

322

xn MONGAN'S FRENZY

CHAPTER XII

Duv Laca and the King of Leinster went
apart then to speak together, and the eye of
the king seemed to be as big as a plate, so
fevered was it and so enlarged and inflamed
by the look of Duv Laca. He was so con-
founded with joy also that his words got
mixed up with his teeth, and Duv Laca did
not know exactly what it was he was trying
to say, and he did not seem to know him-
self. But at last he did say something intel-
ligible, and this is what he said :

"I am a very happy man," said he.

"And I," said Duv Laca, "am the hap-
piest woman in the world."

"Why should you be happy?" the aston-
ished king demanded.

"Listen to me," she said. "If you tried to
take me away from this place against my
own wish, one half of the men of Ulster
would be dead before you got me and the
other half would be badly wounded in my
defence."

"A bargain is a bargain," the King of
Leinster began.

323

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

"But," she continued, "they will not pre-
vent my going away, for they all know tfiat
I have been in love with you for ages."

"What have you been in with me for
ages?" said the amazed king.

"In love with you," replied Duv Laca.

"This is news," said the king, "and it is
good news."

"But, by my word," said Duv Laca, "I
will not go with you unless you grant me a
boon."

"All that I have," cried Branduv, "and
all that everybody has."

"And you must pass your word and pledge
your word that you will do what I ask."

"I pass it and pledge it," cried the joyful
king.

"Then," said Duv Laca, "this is what I
bind on you.

"Light the yoke !" he cried.

"Until one year is up and out you are not
to pass the ni^ht in any house that I am
m.

"By my head and my hand!" Branduv
stammered.

"And if you come into a house where I
am during the time and terai of that year,

324

xa MONGAITS FBENZY

joa arc doc to sit damn in the diadr flat I
am sittii^in.

'^cavy is my doom!" he groaned.

''But," said Dor Lata, '^ I am atxsng in
a chair or a seat yoa arc to sit in a chair that
is o^cr against me and opposite to me and at
a distance from me."

''Alas!" said the king» and he smote lus
hands together, and then he beat them on his
head, and then be looked at them and at
everytlung about, and be ooold not tdl what
anything was or where anything was, for bis
mind was doodcd and his wits bad gone
astray.

''Why do yoa bind these woes on me?"
be pleaded.

'1 wish to find oat if yoa truly love me."

''Bat I do," said the king. '1 love yoa
madly and dearly, and with all my faculties
and members."

'That is the way I love you," said Duv
Laca. "We sball bave a notable year of
courtship and joy. And let us go now,"
she continued, "for I am impatient to be
with you.

Alas !" said Branduv, as be followed ber.
Alas, alas!" said the King of

3^5

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch,

CHAPTER XIII

"I THINK," said the Flame Lady, "that who-
ever lost that woman had no reason to be
sad."

Mongan took her chin in his hand and
kissed her lips.

"All that you say is lovely, for you are
lovely," said he, "and you are my delight
and the joy of the world."

Then the attendants brought him wine,
and he drank so joyously of that and so
deeply, that those who observed him thought
he would surely burst and drown them. But
he laughed loudly and with enormous de-
light, imtil the vessels of gold and silver and
bronze chimed mellowly to his peal and the
rafters of the house went creaking.

I For (said he), Mongan loved Duv Laca
f the White Hand better than he loved his
Jfe, better than he loved his honour. The
ingdoms of the world did not weigh with
him beside the string of her shoe. He would
Wot look at a simset if he could see her. He
would not listen to a harp if he could hear

326

xiii MONGAN'S FRENZY

her speak, for she was the delight of ages, |
the gem of time, and the wonder of the^
world till Doom.

She went to Leinster with the king of that
country, and when she had gone Mongan fell
grievously sick, so that it did not seem he
could ever recover again; and he began to
waste and wither, and he began to look like a
skeleton, and a bony structure, and a misery.

Now this also must be known.

Duv Laca had a young attendant, who
was her foster-sister as well as her servant,
and on the day that she got married to
Mongan, her attendant was married to mac
an Dav, who was servant and foster-brother
to Mongan. When Duv Laca went away
with the King of Leinster, her servant, mac
an Dav*s wife, went with her, so there were
two wifeless men in Ulster at that time,
namely, Mongan the king and mac an Dav
his servant.

One day as Mongan sat in the sun, brood-
ing lamentably on his fate, mac an Dav came
to him.

"How are things with you, master?"
asked mac an Dav.

"Bad," said Mongan.

327

IMSH FAIRY TALES CH,

"It was a poor day brought you off with
Manannan to the Land of Promise," said
his servant.

'"Why should you think that?" inquired
Mongan.

"Because," said mac an Dav, "you
learned nothing in the Land of Promise
except how to eat a lot of food and how to
do nothing in a deal of time."

"What business is it of yours?" said
Mongan angrily.

"It is my business surely," said mac an
Dav, "for my wife has gone off to Leinster
with your wife, and she wouldn't have gone
if you hadn't made a bet and a bargain with
that accursed king."

Mac an Dav began to weep then.

"I didn't make a bargain with any king,"
said he, "and yet my wife has gone away
with one, and it's all because of you."

"There is no one sorrier for you than I
am," said Mongan.

"There is indeed," said mac an Dav,
"for I am sorrier myself."

Mongan roused himself then.
You have a claim on me truly," said he,
and I will not have any one with a claim

328

XIV MONGAN'S FRENZY

on me that is not satisfied. Go," he said to
mac an Dav, "to that fairy place we both
know of. You remember the baskets I left
there with the sod from Ireland in one and
the sod frcMn Scotland in the other; bring
me the baskets and sods."

"Tell me the why of this?" said his
servant.

"The King of Leinster will ask his
wizards what I am doing, and this is what
I will be doing. I will get on your back
with a foot in each of the baskets, and when
Branduv asks the wizards where I am they
will tell him that I have one leg in Ireland
and one leg in Scotland, and as long as they
tell him that he will think he need not bother
himself about me, and we will go into
Leinster that way."

"No bad way either," said mac an Dav.

They set out then.

CHAPTER XIV

It was a long, imeasy journey, for although
mac an Dav was of stout heart and good
will, yet no man can carry another on his v/
back f rcMn Ulster to Leinster and go quick.

3^9

miSH FAIRY TALES ch.

Still, if yoa hocp oq driving a pig or a story
tlicy will get at last to where you wish them
to go, and the man who continues putting
one foot in front of the other will leave his
home bdiind, and will come at last to the
edge of the sea and the end of the world.

When they reached Leinster the feast of
Moy Life was being held, and they pushed
on by forced marches and long stages so as
to be in time, and thus they came to the Moy
of Cell Camain, and they mixed with the
crowd that were going to the feast.

A great and joyous concourse of people
streamed about them. There were young
men and young girls, and when these were
not holding each other's hands it was because
their arms were round each other's necks.
There were old, lusty women going by, and
when these were not talking together it was
because their mouths were mutually filled
with apples and meat-pies. There were
yoimg warriors with mantles of green and
purple and red flying behind them on the
breeze, and when these were not looking
disdainfully on older soldiers it was because
the older soldiers happened at the moment
to be looking at them. There were old

330

XIV MONGAN'S FRENZY

warriors with yard-long beards flying behind
their shoulders like wisps of hay, and when
these were not nursing a broken arm or a
cracked skull, it was because they were nurs-
ing wounds in their stMiachs or their legs.
There were troops of young women who
giggled as long as their breaths lasted and
beamed when it gave out. Bands of boys
who whispered mysteriously together and
pointed with their fingers in every direction
at once, and would suddenly begin to run
like a herd of stampeded horses. There
were men with carts full of roasted meats.
Women with little vats full of mead, and
others carrying milk and beer. Folk of both
sorts with towers swaying on their heads,
and they dripping with honey. Children
having baskets piled with red apples, and
old women who peddled shell-fish and boiled m
lobsters. There were people who sold 6^'f^W
twenty kinds of bread, with butter thrown ..
in. Sellers of onions and cheese, and others ' " *^
who supplied spare bits of armour, odd
scabbards, spear handles, breastplate-laces.
People who cut your hair or told your for-
tune or gav^ you a hot bath in a pot. Others
who put a shoe on your horse or a piece of

331

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

embroidery on your mantle; and others,
again, who took stains off your sword or
dyed your finger-nails or sold you a hound.

It was a great and joyous gathering that
was going to the feast.

Mongan and his servant sat against a
grassy hedge by the roadside and watched
the multitude streaming past.

Just then Mongan glanced to the right,
whence the people were coming. Then he
pulled the hood of his cloak over his ears
and over his brow.

'"Alas!" said he in a deep and anguished
voice.

Mac an Dav turned to him.

"Is it a pain in your stomach, master?"

"It is not," said Mongan.

"Well, what made you make that brutal
and belching noise?"

"It was a sigh I gave," said Mongan.

"Whatever it was," said mac an Dav,
"what was it?"

"Look down the road on this side and tell
me who is coming," said his master.

"It is a lord with his troop."

"It is the King of Leinster," said
Mongan.

332

XIV MONGAN'S FRENZY

"The man," said mac an Dav in a tone
of great pity, "the man that took away your
wife! '^And," he roared in a voice of ex-
traordinary savagery, "the man that took
away my wife into the bargain, and she not
in the bargain."

"Hush," said Mongan, for a man who
heard his shout stopped to tie a sandal, or
to listen.

"Master," said mac an Dav as the troop
drew abreast and moved past.

"What is it, my good friend?"

"Let me throw a little, small piece of a
rock at the King of Leinster."

"I will not."

"A little bit only, a small bit about twice V
the size of my head."

"I will not let you," said Mongan.

When the king had gone by mac an Dav
groaned a deep and dejected groan.

"Ocon!" said he. "Oc6n-io-go-de6 !"
said he.

The man who had tied his sandal said
then:

"Are you in pain, honest man?"

"I am not in pain," said mac an Dav.

"Well, what was it that knocked a howl

333

IRISH FAIRY TALES CH.

out of you like the yelp of a sick dog, honest
manr* ^

"Gro away/' said mac an Dav, *'go away,
you flat-faced, nosy person."

"There is no politeness left in this coun-
try," said the stranger, and he went away to
a certain distance, and from thence he threw
a stone at mac an Day's nose, and hit it.

CHAPTER XV

The road was now not so crowded as it had
been. Minutes would pass and only a few
travellers would come, and minutes more
would go when nobody was in sight at all.

Then two men came down the road : they
were clerics.

"I never saw that kind of a uniform be-
fore," said mac an Dav.

"Even if you didn't," said Mongan,
"there are plenty of them about. They are
men that don't believe in our gods," said
he.

"Do they not, indeed?" said mac an Dav.
"The rascals!" said he. "What, what
would Manannan say to that?"

"The one in front carrying the big book

334

MONGAN'S FRENZY

is Tibraide, he is the priest of Cell Camain,
and he is the chief of those two."

"Indeed, and indeed!" said mac an Dav.
"The one behind must be his servant, for
he has a load on his back."

The priests were reading their offices, and
mac an Dav marvelled at that.

"What is it they are doing?" said he.

"They are reading."

"Indeed, and indeed they are," said mac
an Dav. "I can't make out a word of the
language except that the man behind says
amen, amen, every time the man in front
puts a grant out of him. And they don't
like our gods at all !" said mac an Dav.

"They do not," said Mongan.

"Play a trick on them, master," said mac
an Dav.

Mongan agreed to play a trick on the
priests.

He looked at them hard for a minute, and
then he waved his hand at them.

The two priests stopped, and they stared
straight in front of them, and then they
looked at each other, and then they looked
at the sky. The clerk began to bless him-
self, and then Tibraide began to bless him-

335

miSH FAIRY TALES ch.

self, and after that they didn't know what
to do. For where there had been a road with
hedges on each side and fields stretching be-
yond them, there was now no road, no hedge,
no field; but there was a great broad river
sweeping across their path ; a mighty tumble
of yellowy-brown waters, very swift, very
savage; churning and billowing and jockey-
ing among rough boulders and islands of
stone. It was a water of villainous depth
and of detestable wetness; of ugly hurrying
and of desolate cavernous sound. At a little
to their right there was a thin imcomely
bridge that waggled across the torrent.

Tibraide rubbed his eyes, and then he
looked again.

"Do you see what I see?" said he to the
clerk.

"I don't know what you see," said the
clerk, "but what I see I never did see before,
and I wish I did not see it now."

"I was bom in this place," said Tibraide,
"my father was born here before me, and
my grandfather was born here before him,
but until this day and this minute I never
saw a river here before, and I never heard
of one."

336

XV MONGAN'S FRENZY

''What will we do at all?" said the clerk.
"What will we do at all?"

"We will be sensible," said Tibraide
sternly, "and we will go about our busi-
ness," said he. "If rivers fall out of the sky
what has that to do with you, and if there
is a river here, which there is, why, thank
God, there is a bridge over it too."

"Would you put a toe on that bridge?"
said the clerk.

"What is the bridge for?" said Tibraide.

Mongan and mac an Dav followed them.

When they got to the middle of the bridge
it broke under them, and they were pre-
cipitated into that boiling yellow flood.

Mongan snatched at the book as it fell
from Tibraide's hand.

"Won't you let them drown, master?"
asked mac an Dav.

"No," said Mongan, "I'll send them a
mile down the stream, and then they can
come to land."

Mongan then took on himself the fomi
of Tibraide and he turned mac an Dav into
the shape of the clerk.

"My head has gone bald," said the servant
in a whisper.

337

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

"That is part of it," replied Mongan.
"So long as we know !" said mac an Dav.
They went on then to meet the King of
Leinster.

CHAPTER XVI

They met him near the place where the
games were played.

"Good my soul, Tibraide !" cried the King
of Leinster, and he gave Mongan a kiss.
Mongan kissed him back again.

"Amen, amen," said mac an Dav.

"What for?" said the King of Leinster.

And then mac an Dav began to sneeze,
for he didn't know what for.

"It is a long time since I saw you,
Tibraide," said the king, ''but at this minute
I am in great haste and hurry. Go you on
before me to the fortress, and you can talk
to the queen that you'll find there, she that
used to be the king of Ulster's wife. Kevin
Coclach, my charioteer, will go with you,
and I will follow you myself in a while."

The King of Leinster went off then, and
Mongan and his servant went with the
charioteer and the people.

338

XVI MONGAN'S FRENZY

Mongan read away out of the book, for
he found it interesting, and he did not want
to talk to the charioteer, and mac an Dav
cried amen, amen, every time that Mongan
took his breath. The people who were go-
ing with them said to one another that mac
an Dav was a queer kind of clerk, and that
they had never seen any one who had such a
mouthful of amens.

But in a while they came to the fortress,
and they got into it without any trouble, for
Kevin Cochlach, the king's charioteer,
brought them in. Then they were led to the
room where Duv Laca was, and as he went
into that room Mongan shut his eyes, for he
did not want to look at Duv Laca while
other people might be looking at him.

"Let everybody leave this room, while I
am talking to the queen," said he; and all
the attendants left the room, except one, and
she wouldn't go, for she wouldn't leave her
mistress.

Then Mongan opened his eyes and he
saw Duv Laca, and he made a great bound
to her and took her in his arms, and mac an
Dav made a savage and vicious and terrible
jump at the attendant, and took her in his

339

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

arms, and bit her ear and kissed her neck
and wept down into her back.

"Go away," said the girl, "unhand me,
villain," said she.

"I will not," said mac an Dav, "for Fm
your own husband, Fm your own mac, your
little mac, your macky-wac-wac." Then the
attendant gave a little squeal, and she bit
him on each ear and kissed his neck and wept
down into his back, and said that it wasn't
true and that it was.

CHAPTER XVII

But they were not alone, although they
thought they were. The hag that guarded
the jewels was in the room. She sat hunched
up against the wall, and as she looked like a
bundle of rags they did not notice her. She
began to speak then.

"Terrible are the things I see," said she.
"Terrible are the things I see."

Mongan and his servant gave a jump of
surprise, and their two wives jumped and
squealed. Then Mongan puffed out his
cheeks till his face looked like a bladder, and
he blew a magic breath at the hag, so that

340

xvn MONGAN'S FRENZY

she seemed to be surrounded by a fog, and
when she looked through that breath every-
thing seemed to be different from what she
had thought. Then she began to beg every-
body's pardon.

"I had an evil vision," said she, "I saw
crossways. How sad it is that I should
begin to see the sort of things I thought I

saw."

"Sit in this chair, mother," said Mongan,
"and tell me what you thought you saw,"
and he slipped a spike under her, and mac
an Dav pushed her into the seat, and she
died on the spike.

Just then there came a knocking at the
door. Mac an Dav opened it, and there was
Tibraide standing outside, and twenty-nine
of his men were with him, and they were all
laughing.

"A mile was not half enough," said mac
an Dav reproachfully.

The chamberlain of the fortress pushed
into the room and he stared from one
Tibraide to the other.

"This is a fine growing year," said he.
"There never was a year when Tibraides
were as plentiful as they are this year.

341

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

There is a Tibraide outside and a Tibraide
inside, and who knows but there are some
more of them under the bed. The place is
crawling with them," said he.

Mongan pointed at Tibraide.

"Don't you know who that is?'* he
cried.

"I know who he szys he is," said the
Chamberlain.

"Well, he is Mongan," said Mongan,
"and these twenty-nine men are twenty-nine
of his nobles from Ulster."

At that news the men of the household
picked up clubs and cudgels and every kind
of thing that was near, and made a violent
and woeful attack on Tibraide's men. The
King of Leinster came in then, and when he
was told Tibraide was Mongan he attacked
them as well, and it was with difficulty that
Tibraide got away to Cell Camain with nine
of his men and they all wounded.

The King of Leinster came back then.
He went to Duv Laca's room.

"Where is Tibraide?" said he.

"It wasn't Tibraide was here," said the
hag who was still sitting on the spike, and
was not half dead, "it was Mongan."

342

xvni MONGAN'S FRENZY

"Why did you let him near you?" said
the king to Duv Laca.

"There is no one has a better ri^t to be
near me than Mongan has," said Duv Laca.
"He is my own husband," said she.

And then the king cried out in dismay:

"I have beaten Tibraide's people."

He rushed from the room.

"Send for Tibraide till I apologise," he
cried. "Tell him it was all a mistake. Tell
him it was Mongan."

CHAPTER XVIII

Mongan and his servant went hcxne, and
(for what pleasure is greater than that of
memory exercised in conversation?) for a
time the feeling of an adventure well acccxn-
plished kept him in some contentment. But
at the end of a time that pleasure was worn
out, and Mongan grew at first dispirited and
then sullen, and after that as ill as he had
been on the previous occasion. For he could
not forget Duv Laca of the White Hand,
and he could not remember her without
longing and despair.

It was in the illness which comes from

343

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

longing and despair that he sat one day-
looking on a world that was black although
the sun shone, and that was lean and un-
wholesome althou^ autumn fruits were
heavy on the earth and the joys of harvest
were about him.

'"Winter is in my heart/' quoth he, "and
I am cold already."

He thought too that some day he would
die, and the thought was not unpleasant, for
one half of his life was away in the ter-
ritories of the King of Leinster, and the
half that he kept in himself had no spice in
it.

He was thinking in this way when mac an
Dav came towards him over the lawn, and
he noticed that mac an Dav was walking like
an old man.

He took little slow steps, and he did not
loosen his knees when he walked, so he went
stiffly. One of his feet turned pitifully out-
wards, and the other turned lamentably in.
His chest was pulled inwards, and his head
was stuck outwards and hung down in the
place where his chest should have been, and
his arms were crooked in front of him with
the hands turned wrongly, so that one palm

344

rvm MONGAN'S FRENZY

was shown to the east of the world and the
other one was turned to the west.

"How goes it, mac an Dav?" said the
king.

"Bad," said mac an Dav.

"Is that the sim I see shining, my friend?"
the king asked.

"It may be the sun," replied mac an Dav,
peering curiously at the golden radiance that
dozed about them, "but maybe it's a yellow
fog."

"What is life at all?" said the king.

"It is a weariness and a tiredness," said
mac an Dav. "It is a long yawn without \
sleepiness. It is a bee, lost at midnight and
buzzing on a pane. It is the noise made by
a tied-up dog. It is nothing worth dreaming
about. It is nothing at all."

"How well you explain my feelings about
Duv Laca," said the king.

"I was thinking about my own lamb,"
said mac an Dav. "I was thinking about
my own treasure, my cup of cheeriness, and
the pulse of my heart." And with that he
burst into tears.

'Alas !" said the king.

But," sobbed mac an Div, "what right

345

«1

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

have I to complain? I am only the servant,
and although I didn't make any bargain with
the King of Leinster or with any king of
them all, yet my wife is gone away as if she
was the consort of a potentate the same as
Duv Laca is."

Mongan was sorry then for his servant,
and he roused himself.

"I am going to send you to Duv

Laca."

"Where the one is the other will be,"
cried mac an Dav joyously.

"Go," said Mongan, "to Rath Descirt of
Bregia; you know that place?"

"As well as my tongue knows my
teeth."

"Duv Laca is there; see her, and ask her
what she wants me to do."

Mac an Dav went there and returned.

"Duv Laca says that you are to come at
once, for the King of Leinster is journeying
around his territory, and Kevin Cochlach,
the charioteer, is making bitter love to her
and wants her to run away with him."

Mongan set out, and in no great time, for
they travelled day and night, they came to
Bregia, and gained admittance to the for-

346

XVIII MONGAN'S FRENZY

tress, but just as he got in he had to go out
again, for the King of Leinster had been
warned of Mongan's journey, and came back
to his fortress in the nick of time.

When the men of Ulster saw the condition
into which Mongan fell they were in great
distress, and they all got sick through com-
passion for their king. The nobles sug-
gested to him that they should march against
Leinster and kill that king and bring back
Duv Laca, but Mongan would not consent
to this plan.

"For," said he, "the thing I lost through
my own folly I shall get back through my
own craft."

And when he said that his spirits revived,
and he called for mac an Dav.

"You know, my friend," said Mongan,
"that I can't get Duv Laca back unless the
King of Leinster asks me to take her back,
for a bargain is a bargain."

"That will happen when pigs fly," said
mac an Dav, "and," said he, "I did not make
any bargain with any king that is in the
world."

"I heard you say that before," said
Mongan.

347

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

"I will say it till Dcxmh," cried his servant,
"for my wife has gone away with that pesti-'
lent king, and he has got the double of your
bad bargain."

Mongan and his servant then set out for
Leinster.

When they neared that country they
found a great crowd going on the road with
them, and they learned that the king was
giving a feast in honour of his marriage to
Duv Laca, for the year of waiting was
nearly out, and the king had swom he would
delay no longer.

They went on, therefore, but in low
spirits, and at last they saw the walls of the
king's castle towering before them, and a
noble company going to and fro on the lawn.

CHAPTER XIX

They sat in a place where they could watch
the castle and compose themselves after their
journey.

"How are we going to get into the cas-
tle?" asked mac an Dav.

For there were hatchetmen on guard in

34B

MONGAN'S FRENZY

the big gateway, and there were spearmen
at short intervals around the walls, and men .
to throw hot porridge off the roof were V^
standing in the right places.

"If we cannot get in by hook, we will get
in by crook," said Mongan.

"They are both good ways," said mac an
Dav, "and whichever of them you decide on
ril stick by."

Just then they saw the Hag of the Mill
coming out of the mill which was down the
road a little.

Now the Hag of the Mill was a bony, thin
pole of a hag with odd feet. That is, she
had one foot that was too big for her, so
that when she lifted it up it pulled her over ;
and she had one foot that was too small for
her, so that when she lifted it up she didn't
know what to do with it. She was so long
that you thought you would never see the
end of her, and she was so thin that you
thought you didn't see her at all. One of
her eyes was set where her nose should be
and there was an ear in its place, and her
nose itself was hanging out of her chin, and
she had whiskers round it. She was dressed
in a red rag that was really a hole with a

349

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

fringe on it, and she was singing ''Oh, hush
thee, my one love" to a cat that was yelping
on her shoulder.

She had a tall skinny dog behind her
called Brotar. It hadn't a tooth in its head
except one, and it had the toothache in that
tooth. Every few steps it used to sit down
on its hunkers and point its nose straight up-
wards and make a long, sad complaint about
its tooth; and after that it used to reach its
hind leg round and try to scratch out its
tooth; and then it used to be pulled on again
by the straw rope that was round its neck,
and which was tied at the other end to the
hag's heaviest foot.

There was an old, knock-kneed, raw-
boned, one-eyed, little-winded, heavy-headed
mare with her also. Every time it put a
front leg forward it shivered all over the rest
of its legs backwards, and when it put a hind
leg forward it shivered all over the rest of
its legs frontwards, and it used to give a
great whistle through its nose when it was
out of breath, and a big, thin hen was sitting
on its croup.

Mongan looked on the Hag of the Mill
with delight and affection.

350

MONGAN'S FRENZY

"This time," said he to mac an Dav, "FU
get back my wife."

"You will indeed," said mac an Dav
heartily, "and you'll get mine back too."

"Go over yonder," said Mongan, "and tell
the Hag of the Mill that I want to talk to
her."

Mac an Dav brought her over to
him.

"Is it true what the servant man said?"
she asked.

"What did he say?" asked Mongan.

"He said you wanted to talk to me."

"It is true," said Mongan.

"This is a wonderful hour and a glorious
minute," said the hag, "for this is the first
time in sixty years that any one wanted to
talk to me. Talk on now," said she, "and
I'll listen to you if I can remember how to
do it. Talk gently," said she, "the way you
won't disturb the animals, for they are all
sick."

"They are sick indeed," said mac an Dav
pityingly.

"The cat has a sore tail," said she, '1>y
reason of sitting too close to a part of the
hob that was hot. The dog has a toothache,

351

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

the horse has a pain in her stomach, and the
hen has the pip."

"Ah, it's a sad world," said mac an Dav.

"There you are !" said the hag.

"Tell me," Mongan commenced, "if you
got a wish, what it is you would wish for?"

The hag took the cat off her shoulder and
gave it to mac an Dav.

"Hold that for me while I think," said she.

"Would you like to be a lovely yoxmg
girl?" asked Morgan.

"Fd sooner be that than a skinned eel,"
said she.

"And would you like to marry me or the
King of Leinster?"

"Fd like to marry either of you, or both
of you, or whichever of yt)u came first."

"Very well," said Mongan, "you shall
have your wish."

He touched her with his finger, and the
instant he touched her all dilapidation and
wryness and age went from her, and she be-
came so beautiful that one dared scarcely
look on her, and so young that she seemed
but sixteen years of age.

"You are not the Hag of the Mill any
longer," said Mongan, "you are I veil of the

352

MONGAN'S FRENZY

Shining Cheeks, daughter of the King of
Munster."

He touched the dog too, and it became a
little silky lapdog that could nestle in your
palm. Then he changed the old mare into
a brisk piebald palfrey. Then he changed
himself so that he became the living image
of Ae, the son of the King of G)nnaught,
who had just been married to I veil of the
Shining Cheeks, and then he changed mac
an Dav into the likeness of Ac's attendant,
and then they all set off towards the for-
tress, singing the song that begins :

My wife is nicer than any one's wife.
Any one's wife, any one's wife,

My wife is nicer than any one's wife.
Which nobody can deny.

CHAPTER XX

The doorkeeper brought word to the King
of Leinster that the son of the King of
Connaught, Ae the Beautiful, and his wife,
Ivell of the Shining Cheeks, were at the door,
that they had been banished from Connaught

353

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

by Ac's father, and they were seeking the
protection of the King of Leinster.

Branduv came to the door himself to
welcome them, and the minute he looked on
Ivell of the Shining Cheeks it was plain that
he liked looking at her.

It was now drawing towards evening, and
a feast was prepared for the guests with a
banquet to follow it. At the feast Duv Laca
sat beside the King of Leinster, but Mongan
sat opposite him with Ivell, and Mongan
put more and more magic into the hag, so
that her cheeks shone and her eyes gleamed,
and she was utterly bewitching to the eye;
and when Branduv looked at her she seemed
to grow more and more lovely and more and
more desirable, and at last there was not a
bone in his body as big as an inch that was
not filled with love and longing for the girl.

Every few minutes he gave a great sigh
as if he had eaten too much, and when Duv
Laca asked him if he had eaten too much he
said he had but that he had not drunk
enough, and by that he meant that he had
not drunk enough from the eyes of the girl
before him.

At the banquet which was then held he

354

MONGAN'S FRENZY

looked at her again, and every time he took
a drink he toasted Ivell across the brim of
his goblet, and in a little while she began to
toast him back across the rim of her cup, for
he was drinking ale, but she was drinking
mead. Then he sent a messenger to her to
say that it was a far better thing to be thf
wife of the King of Leinster than to be the
wife of the son of the King of Connaught,
for a king is better than a prince, and Ivell
thought that this was as wise a thing as any« \/
body had ever said. And then he sent a
message to say that he loved her so much
that he would certainly burst of love if it
did not stop.

Mongan heard the whispering, and he told
the hag that if she did what he advised she
would certainly get either himself or the
King of Leinster for a husband.

"Either of you will be welcome," said the
hag.

"When the king says he loves you, ask
him to prove it by gifts ; ask for his drinking-
horn first."

She asked for that, and he sent it to her
filled with good liquor; then she asked for
his girdle, and he sent her that.

355

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch.

His people argued with him and said it
was not right that he should give away the
treasures of Leinster to the wife of the King
of Connaught's son; but he said that it did
not matter, for when he got the girl he would
get his treasures with her. But every time
he sent anything to the hag, mac an Dav
snatched it out of her lap and put it in his
pocket.

"Now," said Mongan to the hag, "tell the
servant to say that you would not leave your
own husband for all the wealth of the
world."

She told the servant that, and the servant
told it to the king.

When Branduv heard it he nearly went
mad with love and longing and jealousy, and
with rage also, because of the treasure he
had given her and might not get back. He
called Mongan over to him, and spoke to
him very threateningly and ragingly.

"I am not one who takes a thing without
giving a thing," said he.

"Nobody could say you were," agreed
Mongan.

"Do you see this woman sitting beside
me," he continued, pointing to Duv Laca.

356

MONGAN'S FRENZY

"I do indeed/' said Mongan.

"Well," said Branduv, "this woman is
Duv Laca of the White Hand that I took
away from Mongan; she is just going to
marry me, but if you will make an exchange,
you can marry this Duv Laca here, and I
will marry that Ivell of the Shining Cheeks
yonder."

Mongan pretended to be very angry then.

"If I had come here with horses and
treasure you would be in your right to take
these from me, but you have no right to ask
for what you are now asking."

"I do ask for it," said Branduv men-
acingly, "and you must not refuse a lord."

"Very well," said Mongan reluctantly,
and as if in great fear; "if you will make
the exchange I will make it, although it
breaks my heart."

He brought Ivell over to the king then and
gave her three kisses.

"The king would suspect something if I
did not kiss you," said he, and then he gave
the hag over to the king.

After that they all got drunk and merry,
and soon there was a great snoring and
snorting, and very soon all the servants fell

357

IMSH FAIRY TALES ch.

asleep also, so that Mongan could not get
anything to drink. Mac an Dav said it was
a great shame, and he kicked scxne of the
servants, but they did not budge, and then
he slipped out to the stables and saddled two
mares. He got on one with his wife behind
him and Mongan got on the other with Duv
Laca behind him, and they rode away to-
wards Ulster like the wind, singing this
song:

The King of Leinster was married to-day.
Married to-day, married to-day.

The King of Leinster was married to-day.
And every one wishes him joy.

In the morning the servants came to
waken the King of Leinster, and when they
saw the face of the hag lying on the pillow
beside the king, and her nose all covered
with whiskers, and her big foot and littfe
foot sticking away out at the end of the bed,
they began to laugh, and poke one another
in the stomach and thump one another on
the shoulder, so that the noise awakened the
king, and he asked what was the matter with
them at all. It was then he saw the hag

358

XX MONGAN'S FRENZY

lying beside him, and he gave a great screccli
and jumped out of the bed. *

"Aren't you the Hag of the Mill?"
said he.

"I am indeed," she replied, "and I love
you dearly."

'1 wish I didn't see you," said Branduv^^

That was the end of the story, and when
he had told it Mongan began to laugh up-
roariously and called for more wine. He '
drank this deeply, as though he was f]giljQL
thirst and d espair and a wild jollity, but
when the Fl^ie Lady began to weqp.he took,
her in his arms and caressed her, and said
that she was the love of his heart and the one
treasure of the world.

After that they feasted in great contents
ment, and at the end of the feasting they
went away from Faery and returned to the
world of men.

They came to Mongan's palace at Moy
Linney, and it was not until they reached the
palace that they found they had been away
one whole year, for they had thought they
were only away one nighty They lived then
peacefully and lovingly together, and that

359

IRISH FAIRY TALES ch. xx

ends the story, but^roti ama did not know
t hat Mongan was Fionn,

The abbot leaned forward.

"Was Mongan Fionn ?'* he asked in a
whisper.

"He was/* replied Cairide.

"Indeed, indeed !" said the abbot.

After a while he continued. "There is
only one part of your story that I do not
like."

"What part is that?" asked Cairide.

"It is the part where the holy man
Tibraide was ill-treated by that rap — ^by
that — ^by Mongan."

y Cairide agreed that it was ill done, but to
himself he said gleefully that whenever he
was asked to tell the story of how he told the
story of Mongan he would remember what
the abbot said.

360

The borrower must return this item on or before
the last date stamped below. If another user
places a recall for this item, the borrower will
be notified of the need for an earlier return.

Non-receipt of overdue notices does not exempt
the borrower from overdue fines.

Harvard College Widener Library
Cambridge, MA 02138 617-495-2413

Please handle with care.

Thank you for helping to preserve
library collections at Harvard.

Internet Archive Audio

Featured

Top

Images

Featured

Top

Software

Featured

Top

Books

Featured

Top

Video

Featured

Top

Mobile Apps

Browser Extensions

Archive-It Subscription

Save Page Now

Full text of "Irish Fairy Tales"

See other formats