THE LAUGHTER OF PETERKIN 
 
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 The king saw a fountain of exceeding beauty. 
 
 Front is.] 
 
THE 1AUGHTERQFPETERK1N. 
 
 "A RETELLING op old TALES op 
 THE CELTIC WOHDERWORLD'by 
 
 • Fiona Macleod • 
 
 C 
 
 DRAWINGS- ■•BY-5UNDCRLAND — R0LL1NS0N-J- 
 • Lo^JDO-N • 
 
 •Archibald • Constable •&• Co 
 •i&97- 
 
 D 
 
TO 
 
 ISLA, 
 
 E1LIDH, 
 
 FIONA, 
 
 AND 
 
 IVOR 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Prologue. The Laughter of Peterkin 
 
 The Four White Swans 
 
 The Fate of the Sons of Turenn 
 
 Darthool and the Sons of Usna 
 
 Notes 
 
 9 
 
 33 
 117 
 
 281 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 By SUNDERLAND ROLLINSON 
 The King saw a Fountain of Exceeding 
 
 BEAUTY ....... Frontispiece 
 
 As she Touched Fionula, Lir's Fair Young 
 Daughter Became a Beautiful Snow-white 
 
 SWAN ...... To face page 33 
 
 Turenn Interceding for his Sons . „ 117 
 
 A Great Raven, Glossy Black, and Burnished 
 
 in the Sun Rays .... To /ace page 177 
 
The Laughter of Peterkin 
 
The Laughter of Peterkin 
 
 'to 
 
 AT the rising- of the moon, Peterkin awoke, 
 and laughed. He was in his little white 
 bed near the open window, so that when a 
 moonbeam wavered from amid the branches 
 of the great poplar, falling suddenly upon his 
 tangled curls and yellowing them with a ripple 
 of pale gold, it was as though a living thing 
 stole in out of the June night. 
 
 He had not awaked at first. The moon- 
 beam seemed caught in a tangle : then it 
 glanced along a crescent tress on the pillow : 
 sprang back like a startled bird : flickered 
 hither and thither above the little sleeping 
 face : and at last played idly on the closed 
 eyelids with their long dark eyelashes. It was 
 then that Peterkin awoke. 
 
 When he opened his eyes he sat up, and 
 so the moonbeam fell into the two white cups 
 
 9 
 
THE LAUGHTER 
 
 of his tiny hands. He held it, but like a 
 yellow eel it wriggled away, and danced mock- 
 ingly upon the counterpane. 
 
 With a sleepy smile he turned and looked 
 out of the window. How dark it was out 
 there ! That white moth which wavered to 
 and fro made the twilight like a shadowy wall. 
 Then upon this wall Peterkin saw a great 
 fantastic shape. It grew and grew, and spread 
 out huge arms and innumerable little hands : 
 and in its shadow-face it had seven shining 
 eyes. Peterkin stared, awe-struck. Then there 
 was a dance of moonshine, a cascade of trick- 
 ling, rippling yellow, and he saw that the shape 
 in the night was the familiar poplar, and that 
 its arms were the big boughs and branches 
 where the spotted mavis and the black merle 
 sang each morning, and that the innumerable 
 little hands were the ever-tremulous, ever- 
 dancing, round little leaves, and that the seven 
 glittering eyes were only seven stars that had 
 caught among the topmost twigs. 
 
 II 
 
 Peterkin was very sleepy, but before his 
 head sank back to the pillow he saw something 
 
 10 
 
OF PETERKIN 
 
 which caused him to hold his breath, and made 
 his eyes grow so round and large that they 
 were like the little pools one sees on the hill- 
 side. 
 
 Every here and there he saw tiny yellow 
 and green lives slipping and sliding along and 
 in and out of the branches of the poplar. 
 Sometimes they were all pale yellow, like gold ; 
 sometimes of a shimmering green ; sometimes 
 so dusky that only by their shining eyes were 
 they visible. At first he could not clearly dis- 
 tinguish these unfamiliar denizens of the great 
 poplar. The vast green pyramid seemed in- 
 numerously alive. Then gradually he saw that 
 each delicate shape was like a human being : 
 little men and women, but smaller than the 
 smallest children, smaller even than dolls. 
 They were all laughing and chasing each other 
 to and fro. Some slid swiftly down an out- 
 spread branch, and then dropped on to a green 
 leafy billow or plunged into an inscrutable 
 maze : others swung by the little crook at the 
 end of each leaf, and laughed as they were 
 blown this way and that by puffs of air : and 
 a few daring ones climbed to the topmost 
 sprays of the topmost boughs and held up tiny 
 white hands like daisies. These wished to 
 
 ii 
 WtVERSiTY Of CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
THE LAUGHTER 
 
 clasp the moonshine. As well might a fish 
 try to catch the moon-dazzle on the water! 
 No wonder Peterkin laughed. 
 
 Ever and again a delicate sweet singing came 
 from the moonshine-folk. Peterkin listened, 
 but could hear no words he knew. Perhaps 
 there were no words at all, or mayhap he 
 himself knew too few. But the singing: was 
 strangely familiar. Sometimes when mother 
 sang, surely he had heard it : as far back, 
 farther back, than memory could take him, he 
 had heard some echo of it. Cradle-sweet it 
 was, that dim snatch of a fugitive strain. And, 
 too, had he not heard something of it in the 
 wind, when that went whispering through the 
 grass and in and out of the wild-rose thicket, 
 or when it lifted and waved a great wing and 
 fanned the trees into vast swaying flames of 
 green ? Yes, even in the fire he had heard 
 it. When the orange and red flames flickered 
 among the coals, or caught the sap in the 
 pine-logs and grew into yellow and blue with 
 hearts of purple, he had heard a faint far-off 
 music. 
 
 Peterkin gave a little gasp when a sudden 
 wave of shadow, trailed across the poplar by 
 a long slow-travelling cloud, swept from bough 
 
 12 
 
OF PETER KIN 
 
 to bough. It was as though all the singing, 
 laughing, dancing folk had been drowned. 
 
 He stared through the darkness, but there 
 was nothing to be seen. He shivered. It 
 was lonely out there. Again he heard a 
 sound as of a remote singing. As before, he 
 could not hear what the words were. But, 
 once more, it was not all unfamiliar. It was 
 sadder than anything that dimly he remem- 
 bered, save the long mournful crooning of a 
 Gaelic cradle-song, sadder than any flame- 
 whisper in a waning fire, or than any cadence 
 of the wind in the grass, or among the thickets 
 of wild rose. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Next night Peterkin lay awake a long time, 
 hoping to see the moonshine-folk again. He 
 had spoken of them, but was told that there 
 were no little people in the poplar. At first this 
 was the more strange to him, for had he not 
 seen them ? Then, after he had scrupulously 
 examined the branches from beneath as well 
 as at a distance, he comforted himself with 
 the thought that, while there might be no little 
 
 13 
 
THE LAUGHTER 
 
 people actually living in the poplar, they came 
 into the tree on the flood of the moonshine. 
 
 But that night there was no moon-flood. A 
 south wind had arisen at sundown, and had 
 shepherded from beyond the hills a medley of 
 strayed clouds : these, intricately interwoven, 
 now spread from horizon to horizon, obliterat- 
 ing the stars and obscuring even the radiance 
 of the new- risen moon. 
 
 If there were no moonlight, and therefore 
 no little yellow and green lives with bright 
 shining eyes, there was a strange exquisite 
 whispering that grew into music sweeter than 
 any which Peterkin had ever heard. 
 
 He rose and crept stealthily from his bed 
 to the door. It was ajar, and he looked, half- 
 fearfully, half-wonderingly, into the open pass- 
 age. How long and dark it was, and haunted 
 by unfamiliar shadows : but, clasping the skirts 
 of his nightgown close to him, he ran swiftly 
 to the balustrade at the far end. 
 
 There the stair lamp shed a comfortable 
 glow. Peterkin looked warily down the stairs, 
 into the hall, along the closed or opened rooms. 
 There was no one stirring. The front door too 
 was open, for the night was warm, or perhaps 
 some one had strayed without. 
 
 M 
 
OF PETER KIN 
 
 The child stood awhile, hesitating. Then 
 he slipped down the stairway like a swift moon- 
 beam. For the first time he realized he was 
 only a little child, when he passed the great 
 antlered stag's-head in the hall, and the high 
 stand hung with coats and hats, the raiment 
 of giants as they seemed, and mysteriously 
 life-like. 
 
 But once in the open air he lost all fear. 
 True, a great mass of rhododendrons ran close 
 to the avenue to the right, and through this 
 the path meandered to the gardens behind 
 the house : but there was nothing unfamiliar 
 about their gloom, for Peterkin loved their 
 green shadowy depths at noon, and their frag- 
 rant dusk when the long shadows on the lawn 
 slept longer and bluer, till they sank invisibly 
 into the grass. 
 
 Old Donal McDonal the gardener, on his 
 way through the shrubberies, rubbed his eyes : 
 for he thought he saw a sprite. He could have 
 sworn, he said to Mairgred Cameron the cook, 
 after he entered the house, that he had seen 
 a small white ghost flitting from bush to bush. 
 Both shook their heads, and wondered if the 
 White Lady were come again, that apparition 
 which legend averred was to be seen by mortal 
 
 15 
 
THE LAUGHTER 
 
 eyes once in every generation, and always 
 before some tragic event or death itself. 
 
 But as for Peterkin he had no thought of 
 such things. He was now in the garden, eager 
 in his quest of the little people who hide 
 among leaves and grass, and love the dusk 
 and the moonlit dark. 
 
 He had no fear as he ran to and fro along 
 the grassy ways. Why should he be afraid 
 of the dark ? There was nothing there to 
 frighten him, or any child. 
 
 For a time he ran to and fro, or crept warily 
 among the lilac bushes. His little white figure 
 drifted hither and thither like a moth. Once 
 he was still, when he stood, shimmering white, 
 among the lilies of the valley, which clustered 
 among their green sheaths at the far end of 
 the garden. Here, a few days ago, he had 
 buried a dead bird he had found under a net. 
 It was a thrush, the gardener had told him, 
 puzzled at the slow tears which welled from 
 the eyes of the little lad. And now Peterkin 
 wondered if the bird were awake. 
 
 He had gone to Ian Mor, who was staying 
 with his father and mother, and told him about 
 the buried bird : and Ian had comforted him 
 with this tale : — 
 
 16 
 
OF PETERKIN 
 
 " Long ago there was a great king. He had 
 the wisdom of wisdom, as the saying is. One 
 day the plague came to his kingdom, and he 
 lost the three lives which were dearest to him 
 in all the world. These were his mother, his 
 wife, and his little son. 
 
 " This king was a poet and dreamer, as well 
 as a great warrior and prince, and he had ever 
 been wont to have communion with the powers 
 and sweet influences which are behind the in- 
 numerable veils of the world. Through these 
 he had come to know the mystery of the Spirit 
 of Life. 
 
 "With this Eternal Spirit he held communion 
 in his deep sorrow. It was then that he 
 learned how what is beautiful cannot pass, for 
 beauty is like life that is mortal, but whose 
 essence does not perish. In fragrance, in 
 colour, in sweet sound, somehow and some- 
 where, that which is beautiful is transmuted 
 when suddenly changed or slain. 
 
 " So he prayed to the Spirit of Life that his 
 dear ones might not pass from him utterly. 
 
 "On the morrow, when he rose and went into 
 
 his favourite place in the royal gardens, a 
 
 secret hollow in a glade of ilex and pine, he 
 
 saw a fountain of exceeding beauty. The 
 
 l.p. 17 B 
 
THE LAUGHTER 
 
 spray rose dazzling white against the sombre 
 green of the old trees, and seemed to be alive 
 with a myriad rainbow-spirits, who ceaselessly 
 flashed their wings as they darted hither and 
 thither. The king was looking upon this, 
 entranced by its sunny loveliness, wmen he 
 noticed a white dove flying round the high 
 sunlit fount, and at the hither margin of the 
 water a cream-white dappled fawn, which 
 stooped its graceful neck and drank. 
 
 "The king marvelled ; for not only had there 
 never been any fountain in that place, but he 
 knew that no wild fawn could wander there 
 from the distant forests, and no dove had he 
 ever seen so snowy white and with wings 
 radiant as though stained by the rainbow-hues 
 of the flying spray. 
 
 " Suddenly it was as though a mist fell from 
 his eyes. He saw and understood. His old 
 mother, his wife, his little son, had not passed 
 away, although they were dead. His mother 
 had been fair and beautiful even in her 
 white-hair years ; and of the beauty of his wife, 
 whom he loved so passing well, the poets had 
 sung from one end of the land to another ; 
 while his little son had been held to be so 
 perfect that there was none like him. 
 
 iS 
 
OF PETERKIN 
 
 "And now the king saw that the beauty of 
 his mother had passed into a living fount of 
 waters, whose spray cooled the air and made a 
 sound of aerial music and a laughing radiance 
 everywhere ; and that the beauty of the woman 
 whom he had loved so passing well was trans- 
 muted into the wild fawn which drank at the 
 water's edge ; and that the beauty of his little 
 son was now the white dove which beat its 
 wings in the rainbow spray. 
 
 " The king rejoiced therein with a great joy. 
 Many of his people thought him mad, but he 
 smiled at that saying, and with grave eyes 
 prayed that that madness would come to all 
 true and noble souls in his kingdom. 
 
 " For a year and a day this joy was his. 
 Then the fountain ceased to rise, and the dove 
 to beat its pinions in the spray, and the wild 
 fawn to drink at the water's edge. The 
 rumour went from mouth to mouth that this 
 was because the plague had come again. The 
 king was heavy with sorrow, for he had taken 
 his deepest happiness in the beauty of these 
 three lovely things, as, of yore, in the beauty 
 of his aged mother, and in the beauty of the 
 woman whom he loved, and in the beauty of 
 his little son. So once again he remembered 
 
 19 
 
THE LAUGHTER 
 
 how he had been helped. With shame at his 
 heart he upbraided himself because he had 
 lived too much to the things of the moment 
 and so had lost touch with those which 
 were of the enduring life. That night he 
 spent in unspoken prayer and prolonged 
 meditation ; and at dawn on the morrow he 
 went slowly and sadly forth, hoping against 
 hope that his life might be gladdened again. 
 
 " The sun rose as he crossed the glade of ilex 
 and pine. There was no fountain, as he well 
 knew ; but where the fountain had been he 
 saw a garth of wild hyacinths, of a blue so 
 wonderful that no Maytide sky was ever more 
 delicately wrought of azure and purple. And 
 above this were two little brown birds, which 
 sang with so sweet voice and bewildered rap- 
 ture that his heart melted within him. 
 
 " Then he knew that in these new joys he 
 had found again the beauty he had lost. 
 
 "When, in the change of the days, the 
 hyacinths spilt their blue wave into the rising 
 green of the fern, and the birds ceased singing 
 their lovely aerial songs, the king no longer 
 grieved, for now he knew that what was 
 beautiful would not perish but drift from change 
 to change. 
 
 20 
 
OF PETERKIN 
 
 " And so it was. For when, weary of his 
 pain, he went forth one night to the lovely- 
 glade of ilex and pine, he saw the ground 
 white with the little blooms we call Stars of 
 Bethlehem, and among these a glow-worm lay 
 and glowed like a lamp in a white wilderness, 
 and from an ancient ilex came the voice of a 
 
 nightingale. 
 
 " Thus the king was comforted. 
 
 " And so you too, Peterkin," added Ian 
 Mor, "need not sorrow too much for your 
 little dead bird. It will live again mayhap in 
 the fragrance of a lily or in the beauty of a 
 rose. It will rise again, Peterkin." 
 
 This tale had sunk deeply into the child's 
 mind, and perhaps all the more so because 
 the words, and the meaning behind the words, 
 were sometimes beyond him. But he under- 
 stood well the drift of what Ian Mor had 
 told him. 
 
 He was prepared for any miracle. If his 
 little bird should rise through the brown earth 
 and ascend singing towards the stars ; or if he 
 should hear a song and see no bird ; or if a 
 fount should well from where its body lay ; 
 or if a rare bloom should spring from the earth; 
 or if a fragrance, new and sweet, should reach 
 
 21 
 
THE LAUGHTER 
 
 him — if one of these things should happen, or 
 anything akin, it would be no surprise to 
 him. 
 
 But while he was still wondering, he heard 
 voices. 
 
 " Peterkin ! Peterkin ! " 
 
 He did not answer, but laughing low to 
 himself, crept in among the lilies-of-the-valley, 
 and lay there, himself like a white bloom. The 
 voices came near, nearer, and passed by. 
 Peterkin's heart smote him, for he heard the 
 pain in the calling voices ; but it was so cool 
 and quiet there among the lilies, and it was 
 so sweet to be out of sight of every one and 
 lost, that he could not break the spell. 
 
 What if he were to be found by the elfin-folk 
 and led into fairyland ? He thrilled both with 
 fear and eager delight at the thought. Surely 
 even now he heard the delicate music of the 
 lily-bells ? 
 
 Peterkin did not know that he had a neigh- 
 bour. Suddenly, he heard a faint rustle. Ah, 
 it was one of the Shee — one of the little 
 people ! Mayhap it was the green Harper, 
 of whom Ian Mor had told him, or one of the 
 seven star-crowned queens, or the haughty 
 Midir, with a peacock's feather in his moon- 
 
 22 
 
OF PETERKIN 
 
 gold hair, or Fand, who walked in fairy dew, 
 or — or 
 
 And then Peterkin saw who his neighbour 
 was. From under a stone, beset by lily- 
 sheaths, a small toad crawled. Its strange 
 bright eyes were fixed upon the staring child, 
 whom, however, it did not seem to heed after 
 it had once examined this strange white crea- 
 ture who lay among the lilies. 
 
 Suddenly Peterkin began to laugh. The 
 toad sat still, solemnly regarding him. Peter- 
 kin laughed the more. Once the toad gave 
 a short jump, though this was not from fear, or 
 even from lack of interest in his unfamiliar 
 neighbour, but because a gnat had come tempt- 
 ingly almost within reach of his long, thin, 
 serpentine tongue. 
 
 " Tell me, toad," Peterkin said at last, " why 
 are you so funny ? " 
 
 Whether it was because the toad was not 
 given to gaiety, or whether his disappointment 
 about the gnat had soured him, he did not 
 respond save by an unwinking stare. After a 
 while it shot out its tongue, as though it were 
 speculating as to Peterkin's flavour as a 
 pleasant morsel, or perhaps only to find if he 
 were within reach. 
 
 23 
 
THE LAUGHTER 
 
 This was too much for Peterkin, who rolled 
 back among the lilies, crushing the little white 
 bells into a floating fragrance. But, alas, that 
 betraying laughter ! 
 
 Peterkin was still in its throes when he heard 
 a voice falling upon him as though out of the 
 skies. 
 
 "Ah, there you are, you little rascal! How 
 you frightened us all, and what a hunt we have 
 had ! " 
 
 Almost before he recognised the voice of 
 Ian Mor, Peterkin was seized and lifted high 
 into the air. 
 
 " Don't be angry, Ian," the child whispered. 
 " I came out to see the fairies. And then I 
 ran on here to see if the little dead bird had 
 come out of the earth again." 
 
 " And have you seen a fairy, Peterkin ?" 
 
 " I don't know. I saw a toad." 
 
 " What did the toad do ? " 
 
 " It looked at me till I laughed. Then it 
 put out its tongue, and I laughed and laughed 
 and laughed." 
 
 " I'm thinking that toad must have been a 
 fairy in disguise, Peterkin. But now come : 
 I am going to carry you back to your bed." 
 
 And whether it was because of Peterkin's 
 
 24 
 
OF PETERKIN 
 
 escape into the garden, or what vaguely came 
 to him there, or what Ian Mor told him as he 
 carried him homeward in his arms, he did hear 
 the horns of elf-land that night, and did see the 
 gathering of the Shee in the moonshine. But 
 it was in a drowsy hollow in the dim wood 
 of sleep, wherein the birds were white soft- 
 pinioned dreams, and the moon waxed and 
 waned like the lily that sinks and rises in dark 
 pools. 
 
 IV 
 
 In those first fragments of Peterkin's experi- 
 ences, all his life was foreshadowed. Wonder, 
 delight, longing, laughter — the four winds of 
 childhood — these blew for him through his first 
 few years, through childhood and boyhood and 
 youth. He is a man now ; but though the 
 laughter is rarer and the longing deeper and 
 more constant, there still blow through the 
 dark glens and wide sunlit moors of his mind 
 the four winds of Laughter, Longing, Wonder, 
 and Delight. 
 
 As year after year went by, his mind became 
 a storehouse of all that was most beautiful and 
 marvellous in the Celtic wonder-world. It is 
 
 25 
 
THE LAUGHTER 
 
 no wonder this, since he had for story-teller 
 Ian Mor, and Eilidh whom Ian loved ; and 
 knew every shepherd on the hillsides of 
 Strachurmore, and every fisherman on the 
 shores of Loch Fyne. The old ballads, the 
 old romances, the strange fragments of the 
 Ossianic tales, the lore of fairydom, fantastic 
 folk-lore, craft of the woodlands, all of the 
 outer and inner life grew into and became 
 interwrought with the fibre of his most intimate 
 being. 
 
 I am not here telling the story of Peterkin 
 himself. He stands, indeed, for many children 
 rather than for one, for many lives and not an 
 individual merely. 
 
 In a sense, therefore, Peterkin is not merely 
 a little child, a boy, a youth, who went through 
 his years gladly laughing, mysteriously wonder- 
 ing, wrought to pain and joy, to suffering and 
 delight, by all he saw and heard and inwardly 
 learned ; but a type of the Wonder-Child, 
 and so a brother to all children, to poets, and 
 dreamers. 
 
 Of the many tales of old times which Peter- 
 kin loved, none did he dwell upon with so 
 much delight as those three which are familiar 
 throughout Ireland and Gaelic Scotland as 
 
 26 
 
OF PETERKIN 
 
 "The Three Sorrows of Story-Telling." In 
 " The Children of Lir," in " Deirdre and 
 the Sons of Usna," in " The Children of 
 Turenn," he found pre-eminently the haunting 
 charm and sad exquisite beauty which are the 
 colour and fragrance of the Celtic genius. 
 And though in his manhood he turned with 
 deeper emotion to tales such as " Dermid and 
 Grainne," or "The Amadan Mor," it was of 
 these early favourites that he loved to think, 
 that he loved to re-read, to hear again, to re-tell. 
 That is why, therefore, I have chosen to 
 make this book essentially a re-telling of the 
 beautiful old tales of " The Three Sorrows," 
 so familiar once to our Gaelic ancestors, and 
 still, in however crude a form, the most popular 
 of all the tales of the Gael. They are sad, it 
 is true, because all the old beautiful tales are 
 sad ; but it is a sadness which is a fragrance 
 about an exquisite bloom, and that bloom 
 wrought of joy and keen delight. They were 
 not sad, they who lived the old, joyous, heroic 
 life ; in some poignant vicissitude, some sud- 
 den slaying, some passing of a bright flame 
 into a melancholy wane, we see a sad gleam 
 about the end of their days, and, seeing thus 
 the fortuitous coming and going of life and 
 
 27 
 
THE LAUGHTER 
 
 death, read into the old chronicles a melancholy 
 which often is not there. 
 
 Of course, a tale such as " The Fate of the 
 Children of Lir " — probably the story known 
 above all others among- the children of West- 
 ern Scotland and Ireland — is sad with another 
 sadness, that of prolonged and unmerited 
 suffering. But to the Gaelic mind, at least, this 
 is redeemed by the sense of heroic endurance, 
 of the deep unselfish devotion of a lovely 
 womanly type such as is represented by Fion- 
 ula, and perhaps, above all, by the music and 
 beauty which were the sweet doom of Fionula 
 and her brothers. 
 
 But to me not one of them is sad, save with 
 beauty. For through all I hear the sound of 
 Peterkin's laughter. Sometimes it was aroused 
 by an episode ; sometimes it leapt like a hound 
 along the trail of vagrant thoughts ; sometimes 
 it came and went as an eddying wind, none 
 knowing whence or whither. 
 
 This laughter of Peterkin has become for me 
 one of the sweet wonderful voices of nature— 
 the four winds of Childhood : Wonder, De- 
 light, Longing, and Laughter. Ah, children, 
 children, to one and all I wish the golden 
 fortune of Peterkin. 
 
 28 
 
OF PETERKIN 
 
 V 
 
 When Peterkin was still a child he was 
 familiar with tales of the old world which now- 
 a-days we keep from children, because they are 
 not old enough to understand. That, I fear, 
 is more because we ourselves do not under- 
 stand, or are out of sympathy. Is a child more 
 likely to be hurt, or to be nobly attuned to the 
 chant-royal of life, by acquaintance with stories 
 of vivid and beautiful human love such as 
 that of Nathos and Darthool, or Dermid and 
 Grainne ? Surely, what is beautiful is not a 
 thing to be feared ; and though, alas ! so many 
 of us do now indeed dread beauty and feel 
 toward it a strange baffled aversion, there are 
 others who know it to be the profoundest and 
 most exquisite mystery in life. 
 
 To Peterkin at any rate there was never 
 anything but what was stirring and heroic and 
 full of charm and beauty in these old tales : and 
 through all his days their atmosphere was in 
 his mind, so that he made life fairer for him- 
 self and others. 
 
 Few stories delighted him more than the 
 wild folk-lore tales which he heard from the 
 shepherds and fishermen, or than those which 
 he was told on Iona. It was to that island he 
 
 29 
 
LAUGHTER OF PETERKIN 
 
 was taken when he was still a child, at a time 
 when the shadow of death darkened his young 
 life. But there, staying with Ian Mor and with 
 Eilidh, his wife, he lived the happiest months of 
 his early years, and came closer to the beauty 
 of the past and to the beauty of the present 
 than ever before or after. 
 
 It was on Iona that he first heard the 
 "Three Sorrows of Story-Telling," though 
 that of Nathos and Darthool — or of " The 
 Sons of Usna," as it is generally called — was 
 rather overheard by him as Ian related it to 
 Eilidh, than told to him direct. 
 
 Throughout the first months of his stay in 
 Iona, Peterkin was told something daily by 
 Ian Mor, so that, child as he was, he became 
 familiar with strange names and peoples of the 
 past, as well as with all the wonders of the 
 living world. True, there was thus in his 
 mind a jumble of the past and the present, and 
 Columba was more real to him than McCailin 
 Mor himself, and Finn and Cuchulain, Ossian 
 and Oscar and Dermid as vivid and actual as 
 any fisherman of Iona. 
 
 When he was old enough to follow aright, 
 Ian Mor told him, anew and in his own way, 
 the three famous tales which follow. 
 
 30 
 
The Tale of the Four 
 White Swans 
 
 31 
 
" The cold and cruel fate that overtook 
 The children of the great Ue Danann, Lir, 
 Is of the Sorrow-stories of our isle. 
 This sorrow-tale indeed is old and young ; 
 Old, for so many hundred years have gone 
 Since last beneath the midnight shimmering star 
 Was heard the music of the birds of snow : 
 Young, for amid the bright-eyed tuneful Gael 
 The sorrows of the snowy-breasted four 
 Are told again to-day, and shall be told 
 Long as the children of Milesius last 
 To people Banba's hills and pleasant vales." 
 
 The Three Sorrows of Story- Telling : 
 
 "The Children of Lir," 
 
 trs. by Dr. Douglas Hyde. 
 
 01 
 
As she touched Fionula, Lir's fair young daughter became a 
 beautiful snow-white swan. 
 
 To face p. 33.] 
 
The Tale of the Four 
 White Swans 
 
 THE story that I will tell you now is one 
 of the most famous among all the peoples 
 of the Gael. It is called sometimes " The 
 Tale of the Four White Swans," sometimes 
 "The Fate of the Children of Lir," sometimes 
 simply "Fionula," 1 because of the beauty and 
 tenderness of Lir's daughter. 
 
 The tale is of the old far-off days. It was 
 old when Ossian was a youth, and Fionn heard 
 it as a child from the lips of grey-beards. 
 Often I have spoken to you, Peterkin, of the 
 Danann folk, the Tuatha-De-Danann who lived 
 in the lands of our race before the foreign 
 peoples came and drove the ancient dwellers in 
 
 1 In Gaelic, the name of Lir's daughter is Fionnghaala, 
 and is variously given in English as Fionula, FionnuoLi, 
 Finoola, and Finola. 
 
 T P QQ C 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 Ireland and Scotland to the hills and remote 
 places. When men allude to them now in this 
 (ate day, they speak of the Dedannans (as they 
 are often called) as the Hidden Folk, the Quiet 
 People, the Hill Folk, and even as the Fairies. 
 It is natural, therefore, that years are as dust in 
 the chronicles of this lost race. They live for 
 hundreds of years where we live for ten ; and 
 so it is that the foam of time is white against 
 the brief wave of our life, when against the 
 mighty and long reach of theirs it is but flying 
 spray. 
 
 You have heard Eilidh singing the song of 
 the Four White Swans. It is a music that 
 hundreds of tired ears have heard. It is so 
 sweet, Peterkin, that old men grow young, and 
 old women are girls again, and weary hearts 
 ache no more, and dreams and hopes become 
 real, and peace puts out her white healing 
 hand. 
 
 " Have you heard that singing, Ian ?" 
 "Yes, my boykin, often. And you, too, 
 shall often hear it. It is in lonely places, in 
 lonely hours, that you shall hear it. It is a 
 beautiful strange sound, and so old and so 
 wonderful that in it you will hear the beating of 
 the heart of the world thousands of years ago. 
 
 34 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 But first I will tell you the story of the Four 
 Swans, and then we can speak again of the 
 strange singing I have heard at times, and that 
 you often shall hear." 
 
 The Dedannans were the most wonderful 
 and happy people in the world till they became 
 discontented with what the unknown and beau- 
 tiful gods had given them. Then they split 
 into sections, and some sought one vain thing 
 and some another, and in the end all found 
 weariness. Their wise men knew that as long 
 as they were at one no enemy could prevail 
 against them ; but it has never been the way of 
 the unquiet to believe in the old wisdom, and 
 so feuds arose, and the Fairy Host itself — as 
 the great array of the warriors of the Tuatha- 
 De-Danann was called — ceased to be invincible, 
 because the banners blew to the four winds. 
 
 Not all their ancestral sojournings in the dim 
 lands of the East, nor in the ages of their 
 migration to the country of fjords which has its 
 whole length in the sea, nor in Alba, that is 
 now Scotland, nor Eire, that is now Ireland, not 
 all they had learned in their remote past helped 
 them against the undoing of their own folly. 
 
 It has been said that the Dedannans never 
 fought against men till the Milesians, the 
 
 35 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 warriors of Miled out of some land in the 
 south — the land, mayhap, we know as Spain — 
 came against them upon the banks of a river 
 then as now called the Blackwater, in the heart 
 of Meath. 
 
 But before the Dedannans themselves ever 
 saw it, the Green Isle was held by the Fir- 
 bolgs, a terrible, heroic race, but allied to the 
 dark powers. Some say they became demons, 
 after they were defeated in many battles by the 
 Tuatha-De-Danann, and at last wholly con- 
 quered. But so old is this ancient tired world, 
 that long before the Dedannans and the Firbolg" 
 people fought for sovereignty, the Firbolg had 
 striven with and overcome an earlier race — the 
 Nemedians — which had come to Ireland under 
 a mysterious king, Nemed. None knows who 
 Nemed was, though he may have been a god, 
 seeing that he overcame that most ancient 
 people who were the first to set foot in the Isle 
 of Destiny, under Partholan, a son of him who 
 was called the Most High God. 
 
 Whether it be true or not that the over- 
 lordship of the world was meant for man, 
 certain it is that man has thought so. There- 
 fore are all stories of his cosmic strife col- 
 oured by this destiny. Terrible and mighty 
 
 36 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 were the Firbolgs, fierce and terrible and beau- 
 tiful were the Dedannans, but now there is no 
 rumour of either, save in the wail of the wind, 
 or in the stirring of swift, stealthy feet in the 
 moonshine. 
 
 But now, Peterkin, I will tell you about 
 the children of Lir, who was one of the great 
 princes of the Dedannans. 
 
 The first great battle between the Mile- 
 sians and the Dedannans had been fought, and 
 the ancient people, for all their secret powers 
 of wonders and enchantment, had been de- 
 feated. Throughout all Erin — for Ireland at 
 that time was called either Eire (Erin), or 
 Fola, or Banba, after three great queens — 
 there was a rumour of lamentation. It was the 
 beginning of the end, though few save the 
 wisest Druids foresaw it. 
 
 But the people knew that their dissen- 
 sions were the cause of their sorrow. They 
 clamoured for one king to be overlord, so that 
 the whole Dedannan race might be united. 
 
 There were five great princes who claimed 
 to be king by right. Of these two were 
 greater than the others — Bove Derg, son of 
 Dagda, one of the divine race (and some say a 
 mighty god), and Lir of Shee Finnaha. In 
 
 37 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 the end Bove Derg was elected Ardree, or 
 High King. Even Midir the Haughty acqui- 
 esced in this judgment of the people, but Lir 
 was wroth and held aloof. All the princes and 
 warriors were fierce with Lir because he had 
 left the assembly in anger, paying heed to no 
 one, and scornfully ignoring the majesty of the 
 king. A hundred swords of proven heroes 
 leapt before Bove Derg, for all were eager to 
 follow Lir and destroy him and his, because of 
 the insult to the king and to the voice and 
 freewill of the people. But Bove Derg was a 
 wise and generous prince, and forbore. This 
 was well. For in time a great sorrow came 
 upon Lir. When the rumour of this sorrow 
 reached Bove Derg, he saw how he might win 
 over Lir. 
 
 "In my house," he said, "are my three 
 foster-children, the daughters of Aileel of Ara. 
 Each is beautiful, all are wise and sweet and 
 noble. Let messengers go to Lir, and tell him 
 that my friendship is his if he will have it. 
 Surely now he will submit to the will of the 
 people. And he can have to wife whomsoever 
 of the three daughters of Aileel he may choose, 
 if so be that she will gladly and freely go with 
 him." 
 
 38 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 Lir was glad at this message. He called 
 his warriors together, and in fifty chariots he 
 and they set forth. They rested not till they 
 came to the palace of Bove Derg, by the Great 
 Lake, nigh to the place now called Killaloe. 
 Great were the rejoicings, and again at the 
 alliance which after many days was made 
 between the king and Lir. 
 
 When Lir saw the three daughters of 
 Aileel, he could not say who was the most 
 beautiful. 
 
 " Each is alike beautiful, O king," he said ; 
 " and I cannot tell which is best. But surely 
 the eldest must be the noblest of the three, and 
 so I will choose her, if so be that she gladly 
 and freely come with me as my wife." 
 
 And so it was. When Lir returned to his 
 own place, he took with him as his wife the 
 beautiful Aev, who was the eldest of the 
 daughters of Aileel of Ara, and was foster-child 
 of Bove Derg the king. From that day, too, 
 a deep and true friendship lived between Bove 
 Derg and Lir. 
 
 In the course of time Aev bore him twin 
 children, a son and a daughter. The daughter 
 was named Fionula, because of her lovely 
 whiteness, and the son was named Aed, for 
 
 39 
 
TPIE TALE OF THE 
 
 that his eyes, and the mind behind his eyes, 
 were bright and wonderful as a flame of fire. 
 
 And at the end of the second year Aev 
 again bore twin children. Both were sons, and 
 they were named Fiachra and Conn. But in 
 giving them life she lost her own. 
 
 Lir was in bitter distress because of her 
 death, and for the reason that his four little 
 children were now motherless. He was com- 
 forted by Bove Derg, who not only gave 
 him friendship and kingly aid and counsel, but 
 said that he should not be left alone to mourn, 
 and that his little ones should not go mother- 
 less. 
 
 Thus it was that Aeifa, the second of the 
 daughters of Aileel of Ara and foster-child of 
 Bove Derg the king, came to Shee Finnaha 
 and espoused Lir. 
 
 For some years all went well. Aeifa 
 nursed the children, and tended them. They 
 were so fair and beautiful that the poets sang 
 of them far and wide. Even Bove Dere loved 
 them as though they were his own. As for 
 Lir, so great was his love, that he could not 
 bear to be long apart from them. His sleeping- 
 room was separated from them only by a deer- 
 skin, and this often he pulled aside at dawn, so 
 
 40 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 that he might see his dear ones, and perchance 
 go to them to talk lightly and happily, or to 
 caress them with loving laughter and joy. 
 
 Lir was never sad save when the four 
 children went south to the Great Lake to 
 stay awhile with Bove Derg, who in his turn 
 was filled with melancholy when the time 
 came for them to £0 home ao-ain. Nor was 
 Lir ever so proud as when, at the Feast of 
 Age, whenever that festival came to be held 
 at Shee Finnaha, the king and the nobles and 
 the warriors delighted in the beauty and mar- 
 vellous sweet charm of Fionula and Aed and 
 Fiachra and Conn. Thus it was that the say- 
 ing grew : " Fair as the four children of 
 in 
 
 But there was a deep shadow behind all this 
 joy. This shadow came out of the heart of 
 Aeifa. In love there is sometimes a poisonous 
 mist. It is what we call Jealousy. At first 
 Aeifa truly loved her step-children. But as 
 the years lapsed, and when Fionula was pass- 
 ing from girlhood into maidenhood, the wife of 
 Lir was filled with anger against the four chil- 
 dren. She was bitter at heart because their 
 father loved them with so great a tenderness, 
 and that even the king himself cared for them 
 
 4i 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 above all else, and because all the Declannans 
 had joy of them. 
 
 The time came when this dull smouldering" 
 fire, which she might have overcome had she 
 loved nobly and not ignobly, burst into flame. 
 This flame withered her heart, and rose thence 
 till it obscured her mind. 
 
 She had something of the old druidical 
 wisdom, but she feared the counter-spells of 
 others wiser than herself. Nevertheless she 
 set herself to learn one or other of the ancient 
 incantations against which even the gods are 
 powerless to avert evil from men and women. 
 
 While she was brooding thus — and for 
 weeks and even months she lay in the house 
 of Lir as one stricken with some terrible ill — 
 her rage grew till she could no longer endure 
 the sight of her husband or of her step-children. 
 
 One day she arose and ordered the horses 
 to be yoked to her chariot, and bade a small 
 chosen company to be ready to go with her 
 and the four children to the Great Lake : for, 
 she said, she wished to see Bove Derg, her 
 foster-father, and to take the children to glad- 
 den his heart. Lir was sad, and sadder still 
 when he saw the tears in Fionula's eyes. In 
 vain he asked her why this drifting dew was 
 
 42 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 there instead of the sun-bright laughing glanc- 
 ings he joyed so much to see. She would not 
 answer : for all she could have said was that 
 in a dream she had fore-knowledge of the evil 
 desire of Aeifa to kill her and her brothers. 
 Perhaps, she thought, it was but a dream. 
 She loved honour, too, and would not put her 
 father against his wife because of a visionary 
 thing- that came to her in the night. 
 
 It was when they were in a deep gorge of the 
 hills that Aeifa was overcome by her hatred. 
 Turning to her attendants, she offered them 
 wealth and whatsoever they desired if only 
 they would slay the four children of Lir then 
 and there, inasmuch as these had come between 
 her and her husband, and had therein and in 
 all else made her life a burden to her. 
 
 The attendants listened with horror. Not 
 one there would lift a hand against Lir's chil- 
 dren. What was wealth, or any fruit of desire, 
 compared with so foul a treachery, so terrible a 
 crime ! The oldest among them even warned 
 Lir's wife that the very thought of such evil 
 would surely work a dreadful punishment 
 against her. 
 
 At this, Aeifa laughed wildly. Then, 
 seizing a sword, she strove to wield it herself 
 
 43 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 against the defenceless children. The three 
 boys stood, wondering. In the blue eyes of 
 Fionula there was something the wife of Lir 
 dreaded more than the wrath of husband or 
 king. Dashing the sword to the ground, she 
 cried to the chariot-driver to make haste on- 
 ward. 
 
 No word was spoken among them till they 
 reached the hither end of the Lake of Darvra. 1 
 There Aeifa called a halt, and the horses were 
 unyoked for rest. It was a fair and warm day, 
 so when she bade the children undress and go 
 into the water, they did so gladly. 
 
 While their white sunlit bodies were splash- 
 ing in the lake, she took from beneath the rim 
 of the chariot, where she had secreted it, a 
 druidical fairy wand. This had been given 
 her by a Dedannan druid, and was a dreadful 
 thing to possess, for its power w r as of the black 
 magic, against which nothing might prevail. 
 Going to the side of the clear water, she struck 
 lightly with the wand the shoulder of each of 
 the four children ; and, as she touched Fionula, 
 Lir's fair young daughter became a beautiful 
 snow-white swan, and as she touched Aed and 
 
 1 Now Loch Derravaragh, in West Meath. 
 44 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 Fiachra and Conn, Lir's three young sons 
 were changed like unto Fionula. 
 
 A cry of lamentation arose from the wit- 
 nesses of this deed, though none guessed that 
 the ill was so dreadful and beyond the reach 
 of druidic skill, nor did the children know at 
 first what evil had befallen them, but swam to 
 and fro laughing in their hearts, and rejoicing 
 in their white feathers and in their swift joy 
 in the water. But when Fionula heard the 
 lamentation, and looked upon the evil face of 
 Aeifa her stepmother, she knew that the hour 
 of doom had come. 
 
 Then Aeifa stretched out her arms, and 
 chanted these words : 
 
 " Lost far and wide on Darvra's gloomy water, 
 With other lonely birds tost far and wide. 
 For nevermore shall Lir behold his daughter, 
 And never shall his sons lie by his side." 
 
 Then while all on the shore stood in deep 
 grief, Fionula swam close, and looked up into 
 the white face of Aeifa, which was whiter then 
 than the whitest breast-feathers of these poor 
 bewildered swans. 
 
 " This is an evil deed thou hast done, O 
 Aeifa," she said. " Out of a bitter heart thou 
 hast wrought this cruel wrong upon us who 
 
 45 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 love thee, and have never done or wished thee 
 ill. Nevertheless it is not our ill that shall 
 endure for ever, but thine own evil. There 
 shall be an avenging terrible for thee, whenso- 
 ever it come." 
 
 It was then that Fionula for the first time 
 sang as a swan, and even then the marvellous 
 sweet singing brought both gladness and tears 
 into the hearts of those who heard. 
 
 "In the years long ago, long ago now, long ago, 
 We were loved by her who dooms us to this evil cruel 
 woe : 
 
 Who with magic wand and words 
 Hath changed us into birds — 
 Snow-white swans to drift and drift for evermore 
 Homeless, weary, tempest-baffled hence from shore to 
 shore." 
 
 A silence followed this melancholy singing. 
 Then at last Fionula spoke again. 
 
 " Tell us, O Aeifa, how long this doom is to 
 be upon us, so that we may know when death 
 shall come to take away our suffering ? " 
 
 Then because in that day it was not honour- 
 able to refuse the truth when asked, Aeifa did 
 as Fionula prayed of her. 
 
 " Better would it be for thee and thy bro- 
 thers to know nothing and to hope much. But 
 
 46 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 since thou hast asked this thing I will tell it : 
 " Three hundred years shall ye, Fionula, 
 and Aed and Fiachra and Conn, who are now 
 four white swans, abide here on this great 
 lonely, desolate lake of Darvra. For three 
 hundred years thereafter shall ye inhabit the 
 wild sea of Moyle, which lies between the Stair- 
 way of the Giants, and the bleak shores of 
 the great headland of Alba. 1 And for yet 
 another three hundred years ye shall drift to 
 and fro among the storm-swept seas off the 
 rocky isles to the west of Erin. 
 
 " Furthermore, ye shall be idle sport for the 
 storms until Lairgnen, a great prince of the 
 north, has union with Decca, in the south : 
 until the Taillkenn, 2 the new prophet, shall 
 come to Erin and preach a new faith that shall 
 chase away the old gods : and until ye shall be 
 filled with fear and wonder at a strange sound, 
 that shall be the rinoanor of the first Christian 
 
 O O 
 
 bell. All this I tell ye because of the pro- 
 phetic sight I have, and that has come to me 
 
 1 That is, between the north-east of Ireland (the Giant's 
 Causeway) and the south-west of the Scottish Highlands 
 (the Mull of Cantire). 
 
 2 The Tailcen : a name given by the early Irish to St. 
 Patrick. 
 
 47 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 through the druidic wand wherewith I have 
 changed ye into four wild white swans. And 
 this too, I say unto ye, Fionula and Aed and 
 Fiachra and Conn, that neither by your own 
 power nor by your prayers, nor by mine, nor 
 by the power of Lir and Bove Derg, nor by 
 that of all kings and princes and druids whatso- 
 ever ; no, nor by any god, nor by any power 
 in heaven or earth, can ye be freed from this 
 spell I have put upon ye, until the times and 
 events I have spoken of shall be fulfilled." 
 
 When Aeifa had ceased speaking, there was 
 no sound to be heard, save the lap-lapping of 
 the lake-water upon the shore. Of the com- 
 pany of those with her none spake a word, each 
 dreading the evil that was sure to come. At 
 last a faint sobbing came from amid the sedges, 
 where the young brothers nestled by the side 
 of Fionula, who had already begun to mother 
 these dear ones whom she loved. 
 
 When she heard these sobs, Aeifa's heart 
 smote her. Even if she would, she could not 
 now undo the age-long spell she had set 
 upon the children of Lir. But one thing was 
 left to her that she might do with the fairy 
 wand, which could be moved once again if 
 stirred by the breath of her will. 
 
 48 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 " Hearken, O children of Lir," she cried, 
 "for I have yet one thing to say: and that 
 out of the sorrow in my heart because of 
 the doom I have put upon ye. Although 
 ye are turned into wild swans, ye shall not 
 become as the desert birds, and have no 
 speech but the savage screams and cries of 
 the wilderness. Ye shall keep for ever your 
 own sweet Gaelic speech, and so be able to 
 talk each with the other, and with any of the 
 human kind whom ye may meet. And more 
 than this, ye shall be able to sing the most 
 sweet, plaintive songs, and the most wild, 
 haunting music that ever man has heard ; so 
 that all whose ears list shall be lulled into 
 deep sleep, or into a peace sweeter than slum- 
 ber itself. Nor shall the law of the soulless 
 brutes be upon you, but ye shall be Fionula 
 and Aed and Fiachra and Conn, the children 
 of Lir." 
 
 Havino- said these words, Aeifa raised her 
 arms and chanted this song : 
 
 " Speed hence, speed hence, O lone white swans, 
 
 Across the wind-sprent foam ; 
 The wave shall be your father now, 
 And the wind alone shall kiss your brow, 
 
 And the waste be your home. 
 
 L.P. 49 I) 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 Speed hence, speed hence, O lone white swans, 
 
 Your age-long quest to make; 
 Three hundred years on Moyle's wild breast, 
 Three hundred years on the wilder west, 
 
 Three hundred on this lake. 
 
 Speed hence, speed hence, O lone white swans, 
 
 And Lir shall call in vain ; 
 For all his aching heart and tears, 
 For all the weariness of his years, 
 
 Ye shall not come again. 
 
 Speed hence, speed hence, O lone white swans, 
 
 Till the ringing of Christ's bell; 
 Then at the last ye shall have rest, 
 And Death shall take ye to his breast 
 
 At the ringing of Christ's bell." 
 
 Having sung this farewell song, Aeifa or- 
 dered the horses to be yoked again to her 
 chariot. 
 
 This done, she drove away westward, nor 
 was there a single heart in those who accom- 
 panied her but was filled with sorrow and 
 foreboding. 
 
 When the lake was no longer visible, and 
 the gloom of the mountains came down upon 
 the pass which led towards the westlands 
 where Bove Derg dwelled, a faint wild aerial 
 singing was heard, delicate as tinkling cow- 
 bells on far hill-pastures. 
 
 50 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 Before Aeifa drew near to the great dun 
 of Bove Derg, she put each of her company 
 under a solemn bond of silence as to what 
 she had meant to do and not done, and as to 
 what later she had done ; and because of the 
 leaky of the bond to a woman, and also be- 
 cause of the fear of each towards the druidical 
 fairy wand that she still carried, the oath was 
 taken by one and all. 
 
 Therefore it was easy for Aeifa to mislead 
 Bove Derg as to the reason why she had not 
 brought the children of Lir with her. Never- 
 theless he doubted greatly that his foster- 
 daughter deceived him, for he could not think 
 that Lir his friend would so mistrust him as 
 to refuse to let Fionula and her brothers 
 accompany their stepmother. 
 
 So, secretly, he sent a swift messenger 
 across the hills and straths to the dun of 
 Lir. 
 
 Lir was at once wroth and filled with fear 
 when he heard that Aeifa had reached the 
 dun of Bove Derg without the children. 
 Some treachery surely had been done, he 
 cried. 
 
 Then, calling together a company, he set 
 forth with all speed. Towards sundown, the 
 
 5i 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 cavalcade came upon the wide desolate shores 
 of the great lake of Darvra. 
 
 "What is that sound?" cried Lir. 
 
 " It is the wind in the reeds, O Lir, " 
 answered a spearman by his side. 
 
 "The wind in the reeds is a sweet sound 
 to hear, Coran, but never have I heard any 
 wind that could make so sweet a music." 
 
 "It is the little gentle lapping of the wave- 
 lets by the west wind, O Lir." 
 
 "It is no gentle lapping of the wavelets by 
 the west wind, Coran, nor yet is it the wind 
 in the reeds ; but that is the voice of Fionula 
 singing." 
 
 And as the sound grew clearer, all heard 
 it, and soon the words were audible : 
 
 "Behold the Danann host is on the shore, 
 Seeking for those now lost for evermore; 
 But let us haste towards that proud array 
 And tell the tidings of this fatal day.'"' 
 
 And while the song was still in the ears 
 of all there, Lir gave a great cry and pointed 
 to where above the midmost of the lake four 
 wild swans were winging swiftly towards the 
 eastern shore. 
 
 When he heard from Fionula — and he knew 
 
 52 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 her voice, which was sweeter than any other 
 he had ever heard — of all that had happened, 
 and of the strange and dreadful doom that 
 was put upon her and her brothers, he fell 
 sobbing to the ground. From all his com- 
 pany the keening of a bitter lamentation 
 arose. 
 
 Alas, as he knew well, not even the great 
 length of years which the Dedannan folk lived 
 —and a score of years is to them what one 
 year is to us — would enable him to see his 
 dear ones again. Three hundred years on 
 Darvra, these he might mayhap live to see ; 
 but not the three hundred years on the bleak 
 and wild region of the Moyle, nor the three 
 hundred on the wild tempestuous western seas, 
 nor the far-off day when a prophet called 
 Taillken would come to Erin with a new faith, 
 and in the glens and across the plains would 
 be ! heard the strange chiminor G f Christ's 
 bell. 
 
 Yet was he comforted when he heard that 
 his children were to keep their Gaelic speech, 
 and to be human in all things save only in 
 their outward shape. And glad he was that 
 they were to be able to chant music so wild 
 and sweet that all who should hear it would 
 
 53 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 be filled with joy and peace. For music is 
 the most beautiful and wonderful thing in 
 the world, and is the oldest, as it will be 
 the latest speech. 
 
 " Remain with us this night, here by the 
 lake," said Fionula, "and we shall sing to you 
 our fairy music." 
 
 So all abode there, and so sweet was the 
 songr of the children of Lir, that he himself 
 and all his company fell into a deep, restful 
 slumber. All night long they sang their sweet 
 sad song, and were glad because of the quiet 
 dark figures by the lake-side lying drowned 
 in shadow. Slowly the moon sank behind the 
 hills. Then the stars glistened whitelier and 
 smaller, and a soft rosy flush came over the 
 mountain crest in the east. Then Lir awoke, 
 and Fionula and Aed and Fiachra and Conn 
 ceased their singing, and spread out their 
 white pinions to the light of a new clay, and 
 ruffled their snowy breasts against the frothing 
 that the dawn-wind made upon the lake. 
 
 Lir took a harp from one of his followers, 
 and sanq- a son^ of farewell to his children. 
 At that singing all awoke, and the heart of 
 each man was heavy because of the doom that 
 had fallen upon the children of Lir. 
 
 54 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 He sang of the fateful hour when he had 
 taken Aeifa to wife, and of the cruel hardness 
 of her heart, that thus out of jealous rage she 
 could work so oreat and unmerited evil. And 
 what rest could there be for him, he chanted, 
 since whenever he lay down in the dark he 
 would see his loved ones pictured plain before 
 him : Fionula, his pride and joy ; Aed, so agile 
 and adventurous ; the laughing Fiachra ; and 
 little Conn, with his curls of gold. 
 
 Then with a heavy heart indeed Lir went 
 on his way. Before he and his company 
 entered the great pass at the western end of 
 Lough Darvra, he looked back longingly. In 
 the blue space of heaven he saw four white 
 cloudlets drifting idly in a slow circling 
 flight. 
 
 "O Fionula," he cried, "O Aed, O Fiachra, 
 
 Conn, farewell, my little ones ! Well do 
 
 1 know that you have risen thus in high flight 
 so that my eyes may have this last glimpse 
 of you. Nevertheless I will come again 
 soon." 
 
 It was a weary journey thence to the dun 
 of Bove Derg, but all weariness was forgotten 
 in wrath against Aeifa. 
 
 No sooner had Lir spoken to the king, 
 
 55 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 no sooner had the kins: looked at the face 
 of Aeifa as she heard the accusation, than 
 Bove Derg knew that the truth had been told, 
 and that Aeifa was guilty of this cruel wrong. 
 Turning to his foster-daughter, he exclaimed, 
 in the hearing of all : 
 
 " This ill deed that thou hast wrought, Aeifa, 
 will be worse for thee than all thou hast put 
 upon the children of Lir. For in the end they 
 shall know joy and peace, while as long as the 
 world lasts thou shalt know what it is to be 
 lonely and accursed and abhorred." Then for 
 a brief time Bove Derg brooded. There was 
 naught in all the world so dreaded in the dim 
 ancient days as the demons of the air, and 
 no doom could be more dreadful than to be 
 transformed into one of those dark and lonely 
 and desperate spirits that make night and de- 
 solate places so full of terror. At last the king 
 rose. Taking his druidical magic wand, he 
 struck Aeifa with it, and therewith turned her 
 into a demon of the air. A great cry w r ent up 
 from the whole assemblage as they saw Aeifa 
 spread out gaunt shadowy wings, and struggle 
 as in a sudden anguish of new birth. The 
 next moment she gave a terrible scream, and 
 flew upward like a swirling eagle, and dis- 
 
 56 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 appeared among the dark lowering clouds 
 which hung over the land that day. 
 
 Thus was it that Aeifa became a demon o 
 the air. Even now her screaming voice may 
 be heard among the wild hills of her own land, 
 on dark windy nights, when tempests break, or 
 in disastrous hours. 
 
 But out of a wrong done the gods may 
 work good. So was it with the Dedan- 
 nans. 
 
 For not only Lir, and all his people, but 
 Bove Derg and a great part of the nation as- 
 sembled by the shores of Lake Darvra, and 
 there pitched their tents, which afterwards 
 grew into a vast rath, wherein the king builded 
 a mighty dun. 
 
 For Lir and Bove Derg had vowed that 
 henceforth they would live their years by the 
 shores of Darvra, where they might converse 
 with their dear ones, and where they might 
 listen to the sweet oblivious songs which 
 Fionula and her brothers sans: to the easing 
 of the heart, and the silence of all pain and 
 weariness. 
 
 But so great was the rumour of this marvel 
 that all Erin heard of it. The Milesians in 
 the south agreed to a long truce of three 
 
 57 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 hundred years ; and came and dwelt in amity 
 
 with the Dedannans, for they too loved the 
 
 sweet and wonderful music of the white swans 
 
 that were the children of Lir. 
 
 " Three hundred years yet may we live," 
 
 said Bove Derg to Lir, "and as I am a king, 
 
 I swear never to leave the lough of Darvra 
 
 while the four swans that are thy sons and 
 
 daughter inhabit it. The heavy years shall 
 
 pass for us, listening to their beautiful sweet 
 
 singing ; and therein we shall know peace and 
 i) 
 
 j°y- 
 
 "So be it," said Lir, and he spoke the truth, 
 for in that day the Dedannans lived to a great 
 age ; some say to three hundred, some to five, 
 some to seven hundred years. 
 
 The years went by, one after the other, and 
 by tens and by scores, and still Lir and Bove 
 Derg and the Dedannans and Milesians 
 dwelled by the shores of Lake Darvra. For 
 never in the w T orld's history has there been 
 chronicle of so sweet a singing as that of the 
 four children of Lir. All day the swans dis- 
 coursed lovingly with their father and Bove 
 Derg, and their kith and kin, and all who 
 sought them ; and each night they sang their 
 slow, sweet, fairy music — a music so wonderful 
 
 5S 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 and passing sweet, that all who listed to it 
 forgot weariness and pain and bitter memories 
 and the burden of years, and fell into a deep 
 restful slumber, whence they awoke each mor- 
 row as though they had drunken overnight of 
 the Fountain of Youth. 
 
 The hair of Lir and Bove Derg was long 
 and white, and almost had the Dedannans and 
 the Milesians forgotten their ancient enmity, 
 when a day of the days came whereon Fionula 
 called aside her three brothers. 
 
 " Dear brothers," she said, as she looked 
 sadly at the three beautiful white swans, and 
 at the four drifting shadow-swans in the depths 
 of the lake, " dear brothers, do you know that 
 the time has come when we must put away our 
 happiness as a dream that has been dreamed ? 
 For now the three hundred years of our sojourn 
 here are at an end, and at dawn to-morrow we 
 must arise and wing our sad flight across the 
 dear lands of Erin, till we come to the wild 
 and stormy waters of the sea-stream of the 
 Moyle." 
 
 Aed and Fiachra and Conn made so loud 
 and bitter lamentation at this that all heard, 
 and soon the whole host that was encamped 
 there filled the region with long keening cries 
 
 59 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 of grief, and a sorrowful mourning strain as of 
 the melancholy wind among the hills. 
 
 But once more all were soothed that night 
 into deep slumber and happy peace, because of 
 the slow, sweet, fairy music of the chanting 
 swans. 
 
 At dawn, the four swans arose, and with 
 their white pinions circled high above the 
 lake, glittering as they soared into the sunrlood 
 as it swept across the summits of the eastern 
 hills. 
 
 "Farewell! farewell! farewell!" they chanted, 
 and at that sad sound all the Dedannan host 
 and all the Milesians, headed by Lir and Bove 
 Derg, kneeled along the lake pastures and 
 amid the reeds and sedges. 
 
 Then Fionula, as she and her brothers slowly 
 descended in wide-sweeping curves, sang this 
 song : 
 
 " Farewell ! Farewell ! Farewell ! 
 Far hence we lost ones go : 
 Hearken our knell, 
 Hearken our woe ! 
 
 Farewell ! Farewell ! Farewell ! 
 With breaking hearts we flee : 
 
 For none can tell 
 
 Our wild home on the sea. 
 60 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 For ages on the Moyle, 
 
 In loneliness and pain, 
 
 Our feet shall tread no soil, 
 Wild wave, wild wind, wild rain. 
 
 For ages in the west, 
 
 Fierce storms and fiercer cold 
 
 Shall be alone our rest, 
 
 While ye grow old. 
 
 Let not our memories pass, 
 O ye who stay behind — 
 
 Who are as the grass 
 
 And we the wind. 
 
 Farewell ! Farewell ! Farewell ! 
 Far hence we lost ones go : 
 
 Hearken our knell, 
 
 Hearken our woe ! " 
 
 As Fionula ceased this song - , she and her 
 brothers swept so close to the water's edge 
 that their white wings made a little dazzle of 
 spray. Then with swift pinions they rose 
 again, and soared in great spirals of flight, till 
 they gleamed against the morning blue like 
 four white banners adrift before a skiey 
 wind. 
 
 Then for a brief while they suspended on 
 outspread wings, and looked longingly down 
 upon the dear ones and all their kith and kin, 
 
 61 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 who on their part could scarce see the four 
 white swans for the mist of tears that was be- 
 fore all faces. 
 
 Suddenly they swung hither and thither, like 
 foam tossed by a tidal wind, and then flew 
 straight to the northward. Soon they were 
 but white specks ; then the blue closed in upon 
 them, as the wastes of the sea close at last 
 behind the hulls of drifting ships. 
 
 Before the torch of a stormy sun sank that 
 night amid the tossed green billows of the 
 Moyle, there where the sea flows to and fro 
 betwixt Erin and Alba, the children of Lir 
 drooped their weary wings. Their home now 
 was the running wave. In darkness and lone- 
 liness and sorrow, they floated close to each 
 other, waiting for the dawn to steal into that 
 first night of bitter exile. 
 
 From that day they were severed from those 
 who loved them. Of a truth, there was keen- 
 ing and lamentation and sorrow by the shores 
 of the lough of Darvra. At the last, as the 
 snow melts, the great host of the Dedannans 
 and Milesians passed away : to the westward, 
 some ; others, to the south. 
 
 As for Bove Derg and Lir, their white hairs 
 and the grey ashes of their lives were the 
 
 62 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 mournful refrain of many a song on the lips of 
 wandering bards. 
 
 There were tears in the eyes of Peterkin 
 when Ian Mor ceased speaking. His heart 
 was sore because of Fionula and Aed and 
 Fiachra and Conn. 
 
 Nevertheless, he too would be glad to be a 
 swan for a time, if only so as to be able to 
 soar into the blue spaces of the sky, and to 
 spread white wings over the dancing waters, 
 and to move through them swifter than any 
 boat. With what joy he had once climbed on 
 to the fan of an old windmill, and slowly re- 
 volved through the hot August air, which 
 winnowed around him a coolness like the flow- 
 ing of wind over the summit of a hill. 
 
 A bright shining came into his eyes, then 
 laughter bubbled to his lips. 
 
 Eilidh looked at him, half in mock reproof, 
 half rejoicingly. 
 
 " Peterkin, why do you laugh ? " 
 
 " Oh, for sure, dear, it's not laughing I am 
 at the poor swans, but at the face of Old Nanny, 
 my nurse, when she came out of the cottage in 
 the glen and saw me lying flat and holding on 
 to the fan of the windmill, with my hair all 
 
 63 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 blown back, and both my legs hanging in the 
 
 • >> 
 air. 
 
 " Some day you will kill yourself, Peterkin," 
 said Eilidh gravely. 
 
 " Then I'll be a swan ! and I'll fly round and 
 round Iona, and whenever you or Ian want 
 to go to the mainland, I'll take you on my 
 back." 
 
 Suddenly Peterkin sprang to his feet, and 
 jumped to and fro, clapping his hands. 
 
 " Ah, how I would love it ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " Love what, dearie ? " 
 
 " Love to see Ian fall off my back and go 
 plump in among the herrings in the Sound ! 
 What a splash he would make ! ' 
 
 " And poor Ian Why, he might be 
 
 drowned, Peterkin ! ' 
 
 "Oh, no; I would swoop down the way a 
 gannet does when it sees a fish, and would 
 scoop him up with my bill." 
 
 The picture was too much for Peterkin. 
 The thought of grabbing the dripping half- 
 drowned Ian in his bill, and of soaring away 
 with him to the white dry sands, was better 
 than any dream of the fairies he had ever had, 
 even than that when he rode a fairy horse in 
 the guise of a white mouse, with grasshoppers 
 
 64 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 for hounds, and a great bumble-bee as a wild 
 boar for the occasion. He threw himself on 
 the floor in front of the hearth, and rolled 
 over and over, contorting his small body into 
 alarming convulsions, clapping his hands, and 
 laughing, laughing, laughing. 
 
 Eilidh, too, let the laughter take her, and 
 then Ian found it sweet ; and soon the little 
 room was full of joyous laughter upon laughter, 
 and of the leaping flame-light from the blazing 
 log on the peats, and of the dancing of the 
 shadow-men in the corners and up and down 
 the walls. 
 
 " The swans ! The swans ! ' cried Peterkin 
 suddenly, as he grabbed wildly at some shadowy 
 shapes which slid along the floor. But these 
 swans proved as tantalising as the wind- 
 shadows on the grass which so often he chased, 
 and suddenly in a flash they disappeared alto- 
 gether. They seemed to spring right into Ian 
 Mor ; at any rate it was in his arms that Peter- 
 kin found himself. 
 
 " Where are the shadows ? Where are the 
 shadows, Ian?" he cried: "I believe you are 
 hiding them inside yourself ! Where are they ? 
 Where are they ? " 
 
 " Why, you boykin, where could they be ? " 
 
 l.p. 65 e 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 " They are in your heart, Ian ! I know they 
 are ! I see them ! I see them ! " 
 
 Ian glanced at Eilidh. Then, putting his 
 arm round Peterkin, he laid his lips against his 
 downy cheek and whispered : 
 
 " Yes, my little lad, you've guessed right." 
 
 "Then why don't you chase them out, Ian ?' 
 
 Again Ian Mor glanced at Eilidh. 
 
 " They live there, lennavan-mo. They 
 jumped out because of your laughter, but they 
 are back now." 
 
 " Then I'll be laughing often, Ian dear, and 
 some day I'll catch them and drive them out 
 into the sunshine, and then they'll melt — ay, 
 ay, they'll melt for sure, Ian, and what will you 
 be after doing then ? " 
 
 " Well, like Fionula and the wild swans, 
 Peterkin, I'll rise up and soar away on the 
 great flood of the sun across the sea till I come 
 to Hy Brasil, the Isle of Youth far away in 
 the West." 
 
 " Yes, I know," Peterkin said gravely : " Hy 
 Brasil : Eilidh told me that is where she and 
 you are going to live. Will you take me there 
 too ? " 
 
 "Yes, you will come there too, mochree, 
 some day.'' 
 
 66 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 " But with you — when you and Eilidh 
 
 go? 
 
 " Perhaps we'll not be going there together, 
 Peterkin. But we won't be forgetting our dear 
 little Peterkin. We'll be on the shore looking 
 out for you when you come." 
 
 "Why are your eyes wet, Ian, and Eilidh's 
 too?" 
 
 " Why, you unfeeling little wretch, it's because 
 we have left the poor swans, Fionula, and Aed, 
 and Fiachra, and Conn, alone on the rough 
 seas of the Moyle all this while." 
 
 " Tell me, tell me now about the children of 
 Lir. Did they see any one up there ? Were 
 they ever happy ? " 
 
 " Eilidh knows the rest of the story as well 
 as I do, Peterkin, so go and sit in her lap while 
 she tells it to you and to me." 
 
 With that, Ian Mor rose and put another log 
 on the red peats. A shower of sparks shot up 
 into the dark hollow of the chimney. Peterkin 
 laughed. 
 
 " Hush ! " whispered Eilidh, with smiling 
 eyes : and then in her sweet, low voice resumed 
 the tale of the Children of Lir, from where Ian 
 had stopped. 
 
 67 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 It was at the edge of winter when Fionula 
 and her brothers reached the wild bleak seas of 
 the Moyle. 
 
 At first there was no too bitter cold or too 
 fierce tempestuousness to make their evil lot 
 still more hard to bear ; but sad indeed were 
 their hearts as clay after day they saw nothing 
 but the same grey skies, the same grey wastes 
 and dark sullen waves, the same bleak, rocky 
 coasts inhabited only by the cormorant and the 
 sea-mew. Never to see a familiar face, never 
 to hear a familiar voice : to dwell from morning 
 dusk till evening dark in loneliness and sorrow 
 — that, indeed, was a hard fate upon the four 
 children of Lir. From hunger and cold, too, 
 they suffered much. No longer could they be 
 cheered as they were on Lough Darvra, and 
 often and often they lamented that their doom 
 could not have permitted them to remain as 
 swans indeed, but as swans on that now clear 
 and home-sweet inland sea of Darvra. 
 
 Day after day passed, but while their misery 
 and want did not grow less they were not yet 
 tortured by wintry storms and bitter frosts. 
 
 But one forlorn afternoon a terrible congre- 
 gation of clouds, black and heavy and flanked 
 with livid gleams, appeared above the horizon 
 
 68 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 and slowly invaded the whole west, and then 
 all the sky northward and all southward. 
 
 Fionula saw that a great tempest was nigh, 
 so she called Aed, and Fiachra, and Conn, to 
 come to her side. 
 
 " Dear brothers," she exclaimed, " the storm 
 that will soon be upon us will be worse than 
 any we have yet known. Hardly can we hope 
 not to be driven far apart. Let us agree, 
 therefore, to meet somewhere, if so be that we 
 are not utterly destroyed. For though Aeifa, 
 our cruel stepmother, doomed us to these long 
 ages of suffering, it may well be that even her 
 potent spell is not strong enough against death : 
 and death may come to us through famine, or 
 cold, or in the drowning wave." 
 
 At first the brothers could answer nothing. 
 Then Aed spoke. " Thou art wise, dear 
 Fionula. Let us, then, fix upon the rocky isle 
 of Carrick-na-ron, as that place is well known 
 to each of us, and can be descried from a great 
 way off." 
 
 Thus it was that Carrick-na-ron was made 
 their place of meeting, if so be that in the blind 
 fury and confusion of the tempest they should 
 be driven the one from the other. 
 
 This was well : for that night, with the dark- 
 
 69 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 ening of the night into a hollow of starless 
 blackness, a terrible tempest swept over the 
 seas, and lashed them into foam and into vast 
 heaving, rolling, swaying billows. Amid the 
 noise of the waves, and behind the screaming 
 of the wind, the four weary rain-drenched be- 
 wildered swans could hear the crashing of the 
 thunder and see the wild fitful blue Mare of 
 savage lightnings. 
 
 Before midnight they were whirled this way 
 and that by the fierce paws of the gale. Soon 
 they were separated, and with despairing cries, 
 each swept solitary through the night. In the 
 heart of each of the children of Lir there was 
 little hope of any morrow. All nearly died of 
 weariness and despair. Nevertheless dawn 
 broke at last, and with the first coming of light 
 the tempest passed away. 
 
 When the sun rose the waters were almost 
 smooth again. A sparkling came into the crest 
 of every wave. The sea blued. 
 
 Fionula was the first to descry the rocky isle 
 of Carrick-na-ron, and gladly she swam towards 
 it, for she was now too weary to fly. Eagerly 
 she hoped to find her brothers there, safe- 
 havened. Alas, there was not a sign of any, 
 not even when she flew to the summit of the 
 
 70 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 highest rock and looked far and wide across 
 the wilderness of waters. 
 
 Great sorrow was hers, for sure, when she 
 beheld nothing but wave upon wave, wave 
 upon wave, till on the far horizon the long low 
 line of sea climbed into the sky. 
 
 A song of mourning broke from Fionula, so 
 sad and sweet and despairing that the gannets 
 and sea-mews and dark fierce cormorants 
 wheeled around Carrick-na-ron, wondering at 
 the marvel of this wild swan, with the strange 
 remote voice of the human kind. It was a 
 song of farewell. 
 
 When Fionula ceased her lament she looked 
 once more across the wastes of the sea. Sud- 
 denly she uttered a glad cry, for she descried 
 Conn swimming slowly towards the rocky isle, 
 slowly, and with drooping head, for he was 
 drenched with the salt brine, and so weary that 
 he could scarce move. 
 
 Hardly had she welcomed him with joy, and 
 helped him to reach a flat ledge of rock 
 whereon the sunlight poured with healing 
 warmth, than she saw Fiachra desperately 
 striving to make his way towards them, but so 
 far spent that it seemed as though death would 
 overtake him before he reached the foam-edged 
 
 7i 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 rocks. Fionula sprang into the running wave, 
 and soon was beside Fiachra, aiding him to her 
 utmost. With difficulty she helped him to the 
 ledge where Conn crouched in the sun, but so 
 weak was he that when he was spoken to he 
 could utter no word in reply. Fionula looked 
 with pity upon her two young brothers. It 
 was hard for her to see their unmothered pain 
 and weariness. So she spread out her broad 
 white pinions, and gave the warmth of her 
 body to the two drenched and shivering swans. 
 
 " Ah ! ' : she exclaimed, as she crouched on 
 the ledge, with Fiachra nestling by her right 
 side and Conn by her left; "ah! if only Aed 
 were here too, all might yet be well. And 
 even if it be death, sweeter far that we might 
 all perish together." It was as though her 
 loving prayer were answered, for before long 
 she descried Aed swimming swiftly through the 
 sunny foam-splashed seas. He, at least, she 
 saw with joy, had not suffered as his younger 
 brothers had done, for he came on with head 
 erect and his white plumage all unruffled and 
 dazzlingly ashine. 
 
 Nevertheless, Aed, too, was glad to rest in 
 the sunshine, so Fionula placed him under her 
 breast. 
 
 7-? 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 Noon found them thus : Fionula with sad 
 eyes staring out across the wastes of windy 
 seas ; under the warm feathers of her breast, 
 Aed ; and close nestled to the warm down of 
 her sides, Fiachra and Conn. She heard their 
 low breathing as they slept, and that they 
 might sleep the deeper and longer she sang 
 her low, sweet, fairy music : 
 
 Sleep, sleep, brothers dear, sleep and dream, 
 Nothing so sweet lies hid in all your years. 
 Life is a storm-swept gleam 
 In a rain of tears : 
 Why wake to a bitter hour, to sigh, to weep ? 
 
 How better far to sleep 
 
 To sleep and dream. 
 
 To sleep and dream, ah, that is well indeed : 
 
 Better than sighs, better than tears ; 
 Ye can have nothing better for your meed 
 
 In all the years. 
 Why wake to a bitter hour, to sigh, to weep? 
 
 How better far to sleep 
 
 To sleep and dream, ah, that is well indeed ! 
 
 This and other soncjs Fionula chanted low 
 throughout the day, till at last she too was 
 overcome by her weariness ; and she slept. 
 
 At the rising of the moon, all awoke. Full 
 glad were Aed and Fiachra and Conn that 
 
 73 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 their tribulation was over ; only Fionula knew 
 that the doom which Aeifa had put upon them 
 held worse things, and many, in store for them. 
 
 For some days thereafter there was peace. 
 Then a snow-whisper came, and the inland hills 
 and the peaked summits of the isles were 
 white. The cold grew deeper day by day ; at 
 each dawn the frost bit with a keener grip. 
 The bitter hardships of the children of Lir were 
 now more almost than they could bear. Never- 
 theless, they had a yet more dreadful trial to 
 endure : for at mid-winter there came a tempest 
 of whirling snow and icy wind so fierce and 
 terrible, that for a day and a night the waves 
 were strewn with the dead bodies of sea-mews 
 and terns. Nothing the four swans had ever 
 suffered was like unto what they suffered at 
 this time. 
 
 But when Fionula had again found and shel- 
 tered her dear ones, and mothered them with 
 her great love, she knew that whatever their 
 sufferings they would now surely endure until 
 the end. Had they been subject to the mortal 
 law, they could not have survived that dreadful 
 day, and still more awful night. 
 
 And so another year passed. The worst 
 sorrow of the children of Lir was their great 
 
 74 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 loneliness, a thing more bitter than hunger or 
 thirst or any privation. They longed for their 
 kind as the first white flowers of the year long 
 for the sun. When mid-winter came again a 
 terrible frost arose. All the north isles were 
 like black bosses in a efleaminsf shield, for 
 sheets of ice covered the seas, and each island 
 was gripped as in an iron vice. Day by day 
 the cold grew more terrible. On the morrow of 
 the ninth day the four children of Lir thought 
 that the end of their misery was at hand. The 
 whole sea was one solid floor of ice ; the isle of 
 Carrick-na-ron, where they were, was like a 
 black iceberg ; into ice lapsed each faint failing 
 breath that they drew with ever greater pain. 
 
 Each morning they had waked to find their 
 feet frozen to the rock, and even the edges of 
 their wings ; and a bitter thing it was to tear 
 themselves free, and to leave clinging to the 
 rock the soft feathers of their breasts and the 
 outer quills of their wings and the skin of their 
 feet. 
 
 How fain each was of death ! How gladly 
 they would have passed away from the world 
 of the living, though in exile, and longing with 
 aching hearts to see once more their own dear 
 land and the faces of those whom they loved ! 
 
 75 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 But their doom was on them, and they could 
 not leave the sea of Moyle, nor could they win 
 death. 
 
 The brave heart of Fionula knew this. She 
 knew too what cruel pain it would give her and 
 her brothers to swim through the salt seas with 
 their bleeding wounds, for the brine would 
 enter them and cause agony. Nevertheless, 
 she led them forth towards the coast of the 
 mainland. There they found a fjord and a 
 haven amid the pine-clad shores, and before 
 long their wounds were healed, and the feathers 
 on their wings and breasts grew again. 
 
 But of what avail to tell the tale of all their 
 years ? Fionula saw that while they must ever 
 return each night to the sea of Moyle till the 
 three hundred years were over and done, they 
 might fly as far and wide as they could between 
 dawn and dusk. Mighty and strong were they 
 now upon the wing, and fit to endure the slash- 
 ing of rains, the buffetings of wild winds, the 
 whirling briny sleet of the seas, and the cold 
 of the high forlorn spaces of the lonely sky. 
 
 Far and wide therefore they roamed, some- 
 times along the foam-swept headlands of Alba, 
 sometimes by the stormy coasts of Erin, some- 
 times for leagues and leagues out into the vast 
 
 76 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 dim wilderness, wherein, so men said, Hy 
 Brasil lay — Hy Brasil, the Isle of Rest, the 
 Isle of Joy, the Isle of Youth Eternal. 
 
 One day, far in the oblivion of these self- 
 same years, they chanced to be flying past the 
 mouth of the Bann, on the north coast of 
 Erin : and Aed gave a cry of joy, and bade 
 Fionula and his brothers look inland, for there, 
 coming out of the south-west, was a stately 
 cavalcade, the horsemen mounted on white 
 steeds, beautifully apparelled, and with wea- 
 pons gleaming in the sun. 
 
 How joyous it was to see their own kind 
 again ! All gave a cry of rapture, their hearts 
 aching the while that they could not set foot 
 upon the land, as that was forbidden to them, 
 though they might adventure to the shore. 
 
 Long and earnestly Fionula looked, but 
 she could not tell who the strangers were. 
 
 " Keen are your eyes, Aed," she said ; " can 
 you discern who the men of yonder cavalcade 
 arer 
 
 " I know them not as men : but it seems to 
 me that they are a troop of our own Dedannan 
 folk, or perchance they may be of the Mile- 
 sians." 
 
 But while they were still wondering and dis- 
 
 77 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 cussing, the cavalcade drew nearer, and the 
 men of it saw the four swans, and, recognising 
 them as the children of Lir, made signs to 
 Fionula and her brothers to alight on the 
 shore. 
 
 With joy the Dedannans, for so they were, 
 hailed the poor exiles, for whom indeed they 
 had long been seeking along the north coasts 
 of Erin. As for the children of Lir they 
 could scarce speak, so great was their happi- 
 ness to hear their dear familiar speech once 
 more and to see the faces of their own 
 people. 
 
 Again and again they were embraced by 
 the two chiefs of the Fairy Host, as the 
 Dedannan warriors were called — Aed the 
 keen-witted, and Fergus the chess - player, 
 the two sons of Bove Derg, king of the 
 Tuatha-De-Danann. 
 
 With joy the children of Lir learned that 
 their father was still alive, and was even then 
 celebrating at his house at Shee Finnaha, 
 along with Bove Derg and the chiefs of the 
 Dedannans, the Feast of Ao-e. As for 
 Aed and Fergus and all their following, they 
 wept when they heard the tale of the misery 
 of these lost years, when Fionula and Aed 
 
 78 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 and Fiachra and Conn were the sport of the 
 winds. 
 
 While eagerly and lovingly they were con- 
 versing, none noticed that the sun was sinking 
 upon the low wavering line of the ultimate 
 wave. But when at last Fionula saw this, 
 she uttered a sad cry of warning to her 
 brothers, and all four rose on their white 
 wings and made ready to tly back to the bleak 
 and desolate sea of Moyle. And sad, sadder 
 than ever, was the heart of Fionula, for she 
 knew that they could not be there till night- 
 fall, and that the penalty of this would be that 
 they should not again see the face of their 
 kind, either on the shores of Erin or Alba, 
 until the end of the three hundred years on the 
 wastes of the Moyle. 
 
 As they circled in the air, she sang this 
 song, the last of the swan-songs heard of any 
 of the Dedannans who were in that company : 
 
 Happy our father Lir afar, 
 With mead, and songs of love and war : 
 The salt brine, and the white foam, 
 With these his children have their home. 
 
 In the sweet days of long ago 
 Soft-clad we wandered to and fro : 
 
 79 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 But now cold winds of dawn and night 
 Pierce deep our feathers thin and light. 
 
 The hazel mead in cups of gold 
 We feasted from in days of old : 
 The sea-weed now our food, our wine 
 The salt, keen, bitter, barren brine. 
 
 On soft warm couches once we pressed 
 While harpers lulled us to our rest : 
 Our beds are now where the sea raves, 
 Our lullaby the clash of waves. 
 
 Alas ! the fair sweet days are gone 
 
 When love was ours from dawn to dawn : 
 
 Our sole companion now is pain, 
 
 Through frost and snow, through storm and rain. 
 
 Beneath my wings my brothers lie 
 When fierce the ice-winds hurtle by : 
 On either side and 'neath my breast 
 Lir's sons have known no other rest. 
 
 Ah, kisses we shall no more know, 
 Ah, love so dear exchanged for woe, 
 All that is sweet for us is o'er, 
 Homeless for aye from shore to shore. 
 
 A great lamentation went up from the caval- 
 cade of the Fairy Host when Fionula ended 
 this song, and she and her brothers flew 
 swiftly northward athwart the waves, red and 
 wild because of the stormy setting of the sun. 
 
 80 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 Sad was the tale the Declannans had to 
 relate when they returned to Shee Finnaha. 
 
 Nevertheless, Bove Derg, the aged king, 
 and white-haired Lir himself, took comfort in 
 this, that Fionula and her brothers were still 
 alive. Moreover, they knew that in the end 
 the spell of Aeifa would be broken and that 
 the exiles would be freed from their sufferings. 
 
 But often, often, they thought with tears, as 
 the slow revolving seasons lapsed one into the 
 other, of the children of Lir upon the desolate 
 far seas of the Moyle. 
 
 Here Eilidh's voice lapsed into silence. 
 Then, looking no longer at Peterkin, but 
 staring into the red heart of the peats, she 
 sang a Gaelic song, called the Sorrow of the 
 Grey Hairs of Lir. 
 
 Peterkin never loved Eilidh so well as when 
 she sang ; but he was sorrowful to-night when 
 he saw that the song brought tears into her 
 eyes. 
 
 " Eilidh," he whispered. 
 
 " Yes, Peterkin, dear." 
 
 " Wouldn't you be liking to kiss Ian ?" 
 
 Eilidh laughed low, a faint Mush coming and 
 going upon her face. 
 
 l.p. Si p 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 " For why, boykin ? " 
 
 " Oh, I know that whenever you have tears 
 in your eyes Ian can chase them away. I have 
 seen him kiss you when you are tired." 
 
 At this Ian Mor rose and lifted Peterkin in 
 his arms. 
 
 " Eilidh is thinking of something sad/ Peter- 
 kin ; that is all. See, she is smiling now, and 
 laughing too by the same token." The boy 
 tossed his curls, and with a roguish smile 
 added : 
 
 " Ah, that is just because I said she wanted 
 to kiss you." 
 
 " You're much too wise, Peterkin. But 
 there, down with you ! Now run to the door, 
 and tell me if it is still raining." 
 
 Peterkin never could go straight anywhere, 
 for his progress was ever like that of a kid or 
 lambkin, a series of jumps and little sudden 
 runs. No sooner was he gone, than Ian turned 
 to Eilidh, and took her in his arms. 
 
 " Sweetheart," he whispered, " that little 
 burst o' sunshine is right. A kiss from your 
 lips is the best thing to chase away the tears. 
 But why are you sad, mochree ?" 
 
 "I was thinking of the sorrow of old Lir ; 
 and how little it matters whether one live fifty 
 
 82 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 years or five hundred, as these old Dedannans 
 did. Then suddenly the thought Hashed 
 across me that some day soon we should lose 
 Peterkin : he too will beGome a wild swan, and 
 it will be we who shall hear the far-off sinofinsr 
 of his laughing childhood." 
 
 " Perhaps he will take his childhood with 
 him into manhood, dear. Let him look often 
 into your beautiful eyes, Eilidh, and the little 
 one will learn much without knowing that he 
 is learning. And then, too, to be near you : 
 why, that is to be a child always deep down, 
 and to have sunshine in the heart and mind — 
 for have you forgotten your name, 'Sun- 
 shine' ?" 
 
 As he spoke, Ian Mor leaned and kissed 
 her. Puzzled at the sudden radiant smile on 
 her face, he looked round. There was Peter- 
 kin, sitting squatted on the hearth, with an 
 impish smile in his blue eyes. He had crawled 
 behind the hanging curtain at the door, and 
 unseen and unheard gained the fireside. 
 
 With a joyous laugh he sprang to his feet. 
 
 " Ah, Ian, you and your rain ! Is it not 
 hearing you are ? It's on the window as if 
 the brownies were throwing little wee stones. 
 It was not the rain you were wanting, but only 
 
 S3 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 a kiss from Eilidh ! Now, Eilidh, tell me 
 true ? " 
 
 " Tell you true, Blumpits. Why " 
 
 But here Peterkin, overcome by some 
 sudden memory suggested by the pet name 
 which Eilidh sometimes gave him, went danc- 
 ing round the room, laughing and chuckling by 
 turns, and once and again clapping his hands 
 in elfin glee. 
 
 " Eilidh, Eilidh," he cried, "do tell me again 
 that story of Blumpits and the Bunnywig." 
 
 Ian looked puzzled. 
 
 " What's a bunnywig, Blumpits ? " 
 
 " A bunnywig — you're not for knowing what 
 a bunnywig is — and you, Ian Mor, too ! A 
 bunnywig is a kunak." 1 
 
 " And what did Blumpits do ? " 
 
 "He got on the bunnywig, in the green fern, 
 and rode on it into fairyland, and no one saw 
 him go but a squirrel. But no, Eilidh, I am 
 not wanting to hear about that now ; and don't 
 be looking- at my bed there, for I haven't got 
 the sleep upon me yet. Tell me the rest of 
 
 1 Coineag, Gaelic for "rabbit." The common English 
 equivalent, Bunny, is a Gaelic derivative, from Bun, a 
 stump or tail. 
 
 84 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 the tale about Fionula and Aed and Fiachra 
 and Conn." 
 
 " I wonder, now, if that's because you really 
 want to hear, or if it's because you don't want 
 to be sent to bed ? ". 
 
 Peterkin had kicked aside his shoes, and 
 taken off his socks, and was warming his feet 
 at the fire. His body was bent nearly double, 
 as he looked round, clutching the while his big 
 toe in the hollow of his tiny fist. 
 
 " O Eilidh," he said reproachfully, but with 
 a light of such mischief in his eyes that Eilidh 
 laughed. Then stooping, she took him on her 
 lap, and after a few seconds, when all three 
 looked idly and dreamily into the red fanwave 
 in the heart of the peats, her lips moved again 
 to the sorrowful sweet tale of the Children of 
 Lir. 
 
 Year after year passed for the four swans 
 that were the children of Lir. On that bleak 
 and lonely sea of the Moyle they saw none of 
 their own kind from year's end to year's end : 
 only the sea-mew and the cormorant, the 
 gannet and the tern, the slow droves of the 
 pollack, the travelling schools of mackerel and 
 herring, the swift seals migrating from isle to 
 
 85 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 isle. With each Spring they saw the great 
 solanders and wild swans flying northward 
 towards the polar seas : thence, at the first 
 days of winter, they saw them again flying 
 southward, athirst for the thin blue wine of 
 unfrozen seas. 
 
 There was no change save the chan^efulness 
 of the seasons ; the grey-black wave of winter 
 lapsed into the grey-blue wave of spring, and 
 out of the dark-blue wave of summer grew the 
 grey-green wave of autumn. 
 
 Cold and hunger and weariness : these only 
 did not vary. 
 
 But at last the long weary exile on the Sea of 
 Moyle came to an end. One day Fionula told 
 her brothers that on the morrow they would 
 have to fly far westward, for the three hundred 
 years on the sea-stream of the Moyle were 
 over, and now they had to begin their long and 
 mayhap still more bitter, bleak, and mournful 
 exile on the wild western ocean beyond Erin. 
 
 "We must fly straight to the bleak head- 
 land of Irros Domnann," she said, "and then 
 must remain on the wild and desolate seas off 
 the isle of Glora, the island that is farthest 
 away from the mainland of our beloved 
 Erin." 
 
 86 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 Thither, accordingly, the four swans flew on 
 the morrow. It was with joy that they left the 
 sea of the Moyle, where they had known so 
 much privation and misery ; but little cause had 
 they for joy, for not less bleak were, the skies, 
 not less desolate the coasts, not less wild the 
 storm-lashed, rain-swept seas, off the lifeless, 
 barren isle of Glora. The great waves of the 
 shoreless western ocean beat upon it for ever, 
 and their thunder often filled the darkness for 
 countless leao-ues with a sound most dreadful 
 to hear. 
 
 But after many years it chanced that a young 
 man, named Kbric, the son of a Dedannan lord, 
 came to farm a tract of land lying along the 
 shore of Irros Domnann. This youth, who 
 was a poet, and loved all beautiful things, soon 
 cared more for the sweet, wonderful sinking of 
 the four swans, which often he heard, and to 
 see their white bodies glistening in the sun, 
 than to till his land. 
 
 One day Fionula and her brothers descried 
 him. Flying to the shore, they called, and 
 great was his wonder to hear the dear familiar 
 Gaelic speech in the mouths of wild swans. 
 
 From that time he walked daily down to the 
 extreme rocks on the shore, that he mio-ht 
 
 S 7 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 converse with the children of Lir, and hear 
 all they had to tell of their sad story ; though 
 he, on his part, could relate little to them of 
 what had happened, or was happening further 
 inland in Erin, though they heard from him 
 with sorrow that the Milesians were now 
 mightier than the Dedannans, and that the 
 Fairy Host was no longer able to withstand 
 the might of these enemies who long since had 
 come out of the south. 
 
 " For," he said, "it is the way of what is 
 beautiful and wonderful ; that the wonder 
 passes and the beauty fades." 
 
 That night he heard Fionula singing, and 
 knew that the burden of her sonor W as no other 
 than the saying he had uttered : 
 
 Dim face of Beauty haunting all the world, 
 
 Fair face of Beauty all too fair to see, 
 
 Where the lost stars adown the heavens are hurled, 
 
 There, there alone for thee 
 
 May white peace be. 
 
 For here where all the dreams of men are whirled 
 Like sere torn leaves of autumn to and fro, 
 There is no place for thee in all the world, 
 
 Who driftest as a star, 
 
 Beyond, afar. 
 
 88 
 
FOUR WHITE S W A N S 
 
 Beauty, sad face of Beauty, Mystery, Wonder, 
 What are these dreams to foolish babbling men - 
 Who cry with little noises 'neath the thunder 
 
 Of ages ground to sand, 
 
 To a little sand. 
 
 Ebric moved homeward through the moon- 
 light wonderiiiQf much at that son^ of Fionula. 
 But because he was a poet, he understood. 
 
 From him the people of the hills, and the 
 valleys round about Irros Domnann, heard the 
 story of the speaking swans ; and soon the 
 wonder of it, and the whole sorrowful tale of 
 the Children of Lir became as well known in 
 that region as, long, long ago, to the Dedan- 
 nans and Milesians on the shores of Lough 
 Darvra, when they encamped by its shores 
 because of the slow, sweet, fairy music of the 
 four swans. 
 
 Then once again it chanced that the four chil- 
 dren of Lir unwittingly transgressed their doom, 
 and so had to leave the shores where they could 
 converse with the people who loved them. 
 But Ebric, to whom they had told everything, 
 was a poet, and wrought of their story a tale 
 so sweet and marvellous that it has lasted all 
 these ages, and is heard to this day on the lips 
 of peasants in the west of Erin. 
 
 So 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 From that time onward the sufferings of 
 Fionula and her brothers were no less than 
 they had been on the sea of the Moyle. Yet 
 even the worst they had there known was 
 surpassed midway in the heart of a terrible 
 winter, a winter when cattle died in covered 
 sheds, and men and women in their houses, 
 and the wild creatures of the forest under their 
 branches, and the storm-inured seabirds in the 
 hollows of their ocean-fronting cliffs. 
 
 On that day the whole surface of the sea 
 from Irros Domnann to Achill was frozen into 
 one solid mass of ice. Across this a polar wind 
 drove sheets of hail and sleet. By nightfall, 
 Aed and Fiachra and Conn were so far spent 
 that they despaired of any morrow ; and at the 
 last Fionula herself, who had striven to comfort 
 them, was herself in so pitiful a misery that she 
 could only lament with them that death was so 
 long in coming. 
 
 But in the full horror of midnight, while they 
 duns nicrh-frozen to the rock of Glora, Fionula 
 had a vision. It was of that God, that new 
 faith, that great wonder and beauty which was 
 even then coming towards Erin, though St. 
 Patrick had not yet set foot upon its shores. 
 
 " Brothers," she cried, "take heart. I have 
 
 90 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 had a vision. Of a truth our ancient gods 
 are but the children of a greater than they. 
 Aed, dear Aed and Fiachra and Conn, believe 
 now in this great and loving God, the most 
 splendid God of the living truth : for it is 
 He who has made all things, the pleasant, 
 fruitful land and the wild barren sea ; and 
 it has been revealed to me that if we put our 
 trust in Him, He will comfort us and send us 
 help." 
 
 "That we now do, O FTonula!" cried Aed 
 and Fiachra and Conn. 
 
 Thereupon they fell into a deep slumber. 
 When they awoke the sun was shining ; the 
 fierce wind no longer blew ; the waves danced 
 joyously, tossing little sheets of spray from one 
 to another. The bitter cold was gone, and 
 they rejoiced exceedingly. 
 
 " It is Spring ! " Aed cried, with joy. 
 
 "It is the answer of God," said Fionula 
 gravely. 
 
 From that hour they had peace. Thence- 
 forth they suffered no more from cold or 
 hunger. When the savage frosts of winter, or 
 the wild rains of autumn, came over the wes- 
 tern sea, the four swans alighted on Innis 
 Glora, and sang their wild, sweet, beautiful 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 music, and then fell asleep, nestling side by 
 side, till they awoke to warmth and joy. 
 
 So was it till the end of the three hundred 
 years. Three hundred years on the lough of 
 Darvra ; three hundred on the sea-stream of 
 the Moyle ; three hundred on the sea of Glora, 
 to the west of Erin. All these ages had 
 they endured, and now their exile was at an 
 end. 
 
 " On the morrow, dear brothers," Fionula 
 sang rejoicingly, "on the morrow we shall 
 wing our way inland ; for our hearts ache to 
 see again our own country and our kindred, 
 and the faces of Lir our father, and Bove Dersf 
 the king, and all whom we love. Great shall 
 be the joy at Shee Finnaha when they behold 
 us once more ; but not more joyous shall their 
 delight be than it will be for us to see the 
 smoke rising from the fires of our people, and 
 to see the greatness and beauty of Shee Fin- 
 naha." 
 
 They could not sleep that night for eager- 
 ness. At dawn they rose on white wings, 
 circling through the wide blue spaces of the 
 air. When the yellow stream of the sun 
 poured westward out of the mountain- ridges 
 of Achill, they chanted a farewell song, and 
 
 Q2 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 then stretched their wide pinions and flew 
 homeward with beating hearts. 
 
 Sweet it was to see below them the green 
 grass instead of the cold, running wave ; and 
 the hollows of the meadows, how much dearer 
 were they than the troughs of the drowning 
 billows ! 
 
 When they came to the great hill above 
 Shee Finnaha, their wings w r ere seized with so 
 great a trembling that scarcely could they reach 
 into view of Lir's high shining house. 
 
 Descending, therefore, they alit on a rock 
 and rested awhile. A deep sadness oppressed 
 Fionula. There was so great a silence on 
 every rock, on every tree. Moreover, she had 
 seen a stag stand staring inland with idle eyes, 
 and had seen the hill-fox and the wolf prowling 
 in the glen where as a child she had often 
 played. 
 
 "What is the fear that is in your eyes, 
 Fionula ? " asked one of her brothers with 
 sudden dread. 
 
 " Alas ! Aed, if Lir and the Dedannans were 
 still here, would a stag stand staring inland, 
 where Shee Finnaha is, with heedless eyes and 
 no hoof lifted, and nostrils idly sniffing the 
 unfrequented wind ? " 
 
 >3 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 " Of a surety no, Fionula." 
 
 "Yet that have I seen, Aed. And if in 
 Shee Finnaha still dwelled our Dedannan folk, 
 would the hill-fox and the wolf prowl in the 
 Glen of the White Water, there where we 
 were wont to play and bathe, we and all the 
 little children ? " 
 
 " Of a surety no, Fionula." 
 
 " Yet that have I seen, O Aed and Fiachra 
 and Conn. Come ! we are rested now. Let 
 us hasten homeward to Shee Finnaha, that we 
 have longed for all these years, and to our 
 father Lir, who awaiteth us." 
 
 Onward they flew. 
 
 But just as they soared over the shoulder of 
 Knoc-na-Shee, Fionula uttered a piercing cry. 
 
 There indeed was the valley where Lir long, 
 long ago had made his home. But now there 
 was not a single wreath of smoke rising to the 
 sky, not a single cow lowed in the pastures, 
 neither man nor woman nor child moved to 
 and fro. Nay, there were not even any houses. 
 All had gone. Amid the desolate place rose 
 the gaunt, dishevelled ruins of Lir's great dun ; 
 its halls empty and roofless, or tenanted only 
 by the rank grass and tall companies of nettles. 
 
 "Alas!" cried Aed, "for the omen of the 
 
 ( )4 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 stag staring idly on Shee Finnaha, and for 
 that of the hill-fox and the wolf prowling in 
 the Glen of the White Water." 
 
 But Fionula could speak no word, for her 
 heart was breaking. 
 
 For long they crouched silent amid the 
 desolation of that ruined place. Thrice three 
 hundred years had passed since they had 
 played in front of the house of Lir : beneath 
 yonder ruined wooden arch they had set forth 
 with Aeifa on that ill-fated journey. 
 
 The dusk came. Still the four children of 
 Lir crouched silent amid the ruined desolation 
 which was all that remained of lordly Shee 
 Finnaha. 
 
 The wolf prowled near, but turned away the 
 flame of his yellow eyes, for he feared those 
 who crouched there and had the voices of the 
 human kind. The bats and owls alone paid no 
 heed. 
 
 When the stars glistened in the sky, and the 
 moon rose, and on the night wind there was 
 not the lowing: of a cow or the barking; of a 
 dog, or any sound whatsoever, save from the 
 rustling forest and the murmuring stream, 
 Fionula and Aed and Fiachra and Conn fell 
 into a bitter sobbing; and a long;, mournful 
 
 95 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 keen, that rose into the hills with plaintive 
 echoes. 
 
 When the day broke, each told the other 
 that they could no longer stay in Shee Fin- 
 naha. That desolation was now to them more 
 bitter than the wilderness of the bleak seas of 
 the Moyle. While they were still speaking 
 thus sorrowfully, Conn descried an old man — 
 so old and worn that his hair hung about his- 
 wrinkled face like thistledown, so white and 
 bleached was it. He carried a small harp, but 
 in his eyes was the look of one who saw only 
 far into the mind and never from the mind 
 outward. 
 
 "Who art thou, O stranger?" Conn asked. 
 
 The man looked at the swan that spoke to 
 him in human speech, and in the sweet, familiar 
 tongue of the Gael. 
 
 " I have heard strange things," he muttered, 
 " and in my madness have come to learn of 
 the beasts. Have not the hawks and eao-les 
 of Shee Finnaha told me bitter tidings, and has 
 not the hill-fox barked to me of the graves of 
 dead hopes, and has not the she-w T olf whined 
 to me in the dusk of the sorrows that flit 
 through the woods — the old ancient sorrows of 
 the wise and the beautiful and the brave that 
 
 96 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 are now no more ? Why then should not a 
 wild swan speak ? Have I forgotten that, 
 ages ago, the children of Lir were changed 
 into swans, and that they spoke with the 
 human tongue, and sang songs so passing 
 sweet that life and death became as the self- 
 same dream ? Ah ! that dream of dreams : 
 fragrant it was as the breath of Moy Mell, the 
 honey-sweet plain of Heaven ; restful as the 
 sound of the waves beating on the shores of 
 Tir-fa-Tonn, where the dead dwell in youth 
 and joy ; strange and wild as the noise of in- 
 visible wings over the blessed isle that is Hy 
 Brasil in the west." 
 
 Conn spake again : 
 
 " Art thou a Dedannan, old man ?" 
 
 " A Dedannan I am, O Swan, that speakest 
 with the tongue of man ; yea, a Dedannan I 
 am, if a sere and fallen leaf can be called a 
 child of the green tree. Say, rather, a De- 
 dannan I was." 
 
 " Dost thou know aught of Bove Derg, the 
 King of the Dedannans, or of Lir, the lord 
 of Shee Finnaha ? " 
 
 The stranger sighed, and by the veiling of 
 his eyes Conn knew that the old harper was 
 with the past. 
 
 l.p. 97 G 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 "Ay," he muttered at last, "but who can 
 note the passage of the years when one is old 
 and broken and sick unto death ? A hundred 
 years have trodden the red leaves again, or it 
 may be thrice a hundred, since I chanted the 
 death-song of Bove Derg, the King of the 
 Dedannans ; since I looked on the white face 
 of Lir, as he lay grey and ashy among the 
 ashy-grey thistles." 
 
 Conn uttered a cry of sorrow, and a bitter 
 keen of lament came from his two brothers and 
 from Fionula. 
 
 "Then these also speak," muttered the old 
 harper: "almost can I persuade myself that 
 I look on the wild swans that are the four 
 children of Lir — Fionula and Aed and Fiachra 
 and Conn. Ages ago I thought they had 
 lapsed in death. All are gone now, save only 
 Aeifa, who is a demon of the air, and wails 
 among the hills and in desolate places." 
 
 All this time Fionula had been looking 
 earnestly at the old man. Now she spoke. 
 
 " Tell me, art thou not Irbir the Har- 
 per r 
 
 "It is Irbir the Harper I am, the chief 
 harper of Bove Derg, that was King of the 
 Dedannans before the Fairy Host faded away 
 
 98 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 from the meadows and pastures of Erin. 
 And if indeed ye be the children of Lir, know 
 I am that Irbir who sanq^ the birth-song 1 at 
 the birthing- of ye, Fionula and Aed, and at the 
 birthing of ye, Fiachra and Conn." 
 
 Thereupon the old harper embraced the 
 four swans, tears running down his face the 
 while. 
 
 While he was yet embracing them, his 
 wildered mind began to wander, and he talked 
 idly of vain things. 
 
 Nevertheless, they learned from him that 
 more than a hundred years back, and maybe 
 thrice a hundred, the Tuatha-De-Danann had 
 fought a last great battle with the Milesians 
 and had been utterly defeated. They were 
 now a dispersed and hidden people, some 
 deathless, others living- to the thousand and 
 one years of the old-world folk, and some with 
 a new and terrible mortality upon them. As 
 for Bove Derg and all the Fairy Host, the 
 wild thistle waved over their nameless graves. 
 Lir lay beneath the grass outside his great dun 
 of Shee Finnaha. His last words had been : 
 " I hear the beating of wings. O wild swans, 
 I hear the beating of thy wings." 
 
 Thereafter Irbir the Harper moved aim- 
 
 99 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 lessly away, and with him passed the shadow 
 of the greatness that was gone. 
 
 The children of Lir now spoke wearily 
 among themselves of what they should do. 
 At the last they decided to go back to the 
 Isle of Glora, and there await the fulfilment 
 of their doom. 
 
 One more night they spent at Shee Finnaha,. 
 mourning over the grey sorrow of Lir, and 
 over the desolation of that noble place, and 
 over the ruin of the Dedannan folk. So wild 
 and mournful was their singing that night 
 that the beasts of the forest congregated round 
 the ruined dun, and from the crags of the 
 hills thronged the cliff-hawks and the eagles. 
 In the heart of the woods Irbir, the old harper, 
 died, dreaming that he was in Tir-nan-Og r 
 the Land of Youth, and was listening again 
 to the voices of Love. 
 
 On the morrow the children of Lir flew 
 sorrowfully away from Shee Finnaha and 
 returned to Innis Glora. They alit at a small 
 lake in the heart of that isle, and there began 
 once more to sing their slow, sweet, fairy 
 music. 
 
 So wonderful was their singing, with all its 
 added pain and the mystery of years, that the 
 
 ioo 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 birds of all the regions round were wont to 
 collect daily, and gather in flocks round about 
 the singing swans. Thus it was that the little 
 lake came to be called the Lake of the Bird 
 Flocks. 
 
 At sunrise these innumerable birds would 
 disperse far and wide ; some seaward, some 
 inland, some northward to Achill, some as far 
 south as the three rocks known as Donn's 
 Sea- Rest, some to Inniskea — to this day called 
 the Isle of the Lonely Crane, for there dwells, 
 and has dwelled since the beginning of the 
 world, and shall dwell till the day of flame, a 
 solitary brooding crane. But at night every 
 bird returned to Innis Glora, to hear the slow, 
 sweet, fairy music of the children of Lir. 
 
 In this way the years went past. 
 
 On a day of the clays Fionula called her 
 brothers to listen to her, because of a dream 
 that she had dreamed. 
 
 " The Taillkenn 1 has come at last," she said. 
 " I saw a strange light in the East at midnight. 
 A star rose out of it, and travelled through 
 the gulfs of the sky, and rested over Erin, 
 and sank slowly over this our dear land. 
 
 1 St. Patrick. (Druidic name.) 
 IOT 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 Then I heard a smoke of voices rising to the 
 stars, and thence, too, came a chiming sweeter 
 than any chants we have sung in all these 
 thrice three hundred years." 
 
 On the eve of that day a man came forth 
 from the mainland in a coracle. He came 
 to Innis Glora, and alighted there, and kneeled 
 in a strange fashion, and supplicated some 
 god. 
 
 It was St. Kemoc. 
 
 After nightfall the wild swans were silent, 
 for all were heavy with the strangeness of this 
 man, who was not like unto any Dedannan 
 or even a Milesian, and who prayed on his 
 knees, and supplicated a god set beyond the 
 stars. 
 
 In the grey dawn they awoke, trembling. 
 Trembling still, they started and ran bewilder- 
 edly to and fro, for strange and dreadful to 
 them was the sound that they heard. It was 
 but a little sound, and faint and afar ; but 
 it was the chiming of a bell, and in all the 
 thrice three hundred years and more they had 
 lived they had heard nought like it. The 
 bell was the matin-bell of St. Kemoc, but they 
 knew it not, nor what it meant. Aed and 
 Fiachra and Conn ran wildly and far, but at 
 
 102 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 last when the bell ceased, they returned to 
 Fionula. 
 
 " Do you know what this sound is, this 
 faint, fearful sound that has terrified us, dear 
 brothers ?" 
 
 " No, we have heard the faint, fearful voice, 
 but know not what it is. Is it the voice of the 
 strange man who has come among us, and is he 
 a god ? " 
 
 " No," answered Fionula, with grave joy, 
 " but it is the voice of the Christians' bell. 
 Soon we shall be free of our spell ; soon we 
 shall have peace. It is the bell we have 
 dreamed of for so many years." 
 
 All were glad at that. Kemoc had again 
 beo-un to ringf his matin-bell, and the four 
 swans crouched low, listening to its strange 
 music. When it ceased, Fionula spoke : 
 
 " Let us now sing our music." 
 
 Therewith they sang their slow, sweet, fairy 
 music. 
 
 Kemoc rose in his place, amazed with great 
 wonder. At first he thought it was the voices 
 of the angels singing in Paradise. Then sud- 
 denly it was revealed to him that it was the slow, 
 sweet, fairy music of the children of Lir, where- 
 at he rejoiced exceedingly, for he had fared 
 
 103 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 westward in the hope to find and save Fionula 
 and Aed and Fiachra and Conn, of whom he 
 had heard soon after he came to Erin with 
 tidings of Christ and the Christian faith. 
 
 So when his prayers were done, and sunrise 
 put a shine of gold upon the sea, Kemoc rose 
 and went to the lake, and hailed the four white 
 swans. And when they answered and told 
 him who they were, he gave thanks to God. 
 
 "Come now to land," he added, "and 
 sojourn with me, for it is in this place that ye 
 are destined to be freed from your enchant- 
 ment." 
 
 Filled with a great joy on hearing the words 
 of the Christian saint, they came ashore, 
 and went with him to where he had builded 
 his cell against the forefront of a cave. 
 
 Three days later a skilled craftsman for 
 whom he had sent came to Innis Glora, and 
 wrought two slender shining chains of silver. 
 These St. Kemoc put upon Fionula and Aed 
 and upon Fiachra and Conn, to show that they 
 were now bondagers to Christ, for all that they 
 were still swans and under the doom of the 
 spell of Aeifa. 
 
 Thereafter the time passed with joy and 
 peace. Kemoc taught them the holy faith, and 
 
 104 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 came to love them with his whole heart. As 
 for the children of Lir they were glad with 
 so great a gladness that they remembered no 
 more their long misery, and even loved better 
 to hear the hymns and litanies of St. Kemoc 
 than the lifesweet war-chants and love-songs 
 they had heard in their childhood from Irbir 
 and other bards and minstrels. 
 
 But at that time 1 there was a queen in Erin 
 who above all other things desired the glory ol 
 having- these marvellous sinking: swans as her 
 own. In the olden days men and women 
 were wont to hold the decrees of the gods and 
 of fate in reverence ; and more thought was 
 taken of the inner meanings of dreams, marvels, 
 and the strange vicissitudes of life. Has not a 
 wise poet declared that the smaller the soul the 
 greater the tyranny ? This queen was Decca, 
 daughter of Fino-hin, king of Munster, and 
 wife of Lairgnen, the king of Connaught. 
 
 It was of these two that Aeifa, long, long 
 ago, had spoken prophetically, but none re- 
 membered this save only Fionula, in whose 
 
 1 With the advent of St. Kemoc, the story comes within 
 historical times. Lairgnen and Finghin were kings of 
 Connaught and Munster, who flourished in the seventh 
 century a.d. 
 
 105 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 mind dreams and memories floated as water- 
 blooms on a mountain lake — the blooms that 
 float and sink and rise as though a breath 
 sustained or swayed them, the breath out of 
 still, pellucid depths. 
 
 At last the desire of Decca overmastered 
 her. She begged Lairgnen to fare westward 
 to Kemoc, and obtain the swans from the saint 
 and bring them to her. But this the king 
 feared to do, nor held it a kingly act. Then 
 Decca gave way to her anger, and left the 
 great house of the king and vowed that she 
 would not sleep there another night till Lairg- 
 nen brought her the singing swans. 
 
 So the woman fled southward into Munster, 
 her father's realm. 
 
 Lairgnen the Connaught king loved his wife 
 to weakness. He was the slave of her dark 
 eyes and her smiling lips and her selfish heart 
 and her poor will : so he came to evil then, 
 and later. For according as a man's love is, 
 and as he loves to strength, so shall his life 
 be abased or uplifted. 
 
 So Lairgnen sent messengers after Decca, 
 and sought her in the south. Thus was the 
 prophecy fulfilled. 
 
 The woman returned, but put a bond upon 
 
 1 06 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 the king. He was weak, and she made a 
 sport of him as women do who are loved to 
 weakness and not to strength : as with men 
 also, when women love them ignobly, and not 
 as high mate with high mate. 
 
 Thus it came about that Lairgnen gave the 
 word to St. Kemoc that he desired the four 
 swans to be sent to him at his royal house 
 in Connaught. Kemoc, however, refused. He 
 served the King of kings, not the king of Con- 
 naught. 
 
 Full of wrath, Lairgnen set out for the 
 western coast, and at last reached Innis Glora. 
 When he asked Kemoc if he had indeed re- 
 fused to give up the swans at his command, 
 and was told that this was so, he swore the 
 old pagan oath by the sun and the moon and 
 the wind, and vowed that he would not leave 
 that place without them. 
 
 " Doom must be fulfilled, O king," said 
 Kemoc, " but woe unto that man by whom 
 the evil of a day of the days is wrought." 
 
 Lairgnen laughed, and followed the saint 
 into the little chapel where the four swans stood 
 before the altar, singing a sweet wonderful 
 song that was a hymn of peace and joy. Seiz- 
 ing the silver chain of Fionula and Aed in 
 
 107 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 one hand, and that of Fiachra and Conn in 
 the other, he forced them to follow him. 
 
 " Do not do this thing, Lairgnen, son of 
 Colman," said St. Kemoc. 
 
 "And for why not?" asked the king, smil- 
 ing grimly, as he neared the door of the wattle- 
 church. " Am I not the king, and can I not 
 do as I will in mine own lands ? " 
 
 "There is another King. If thou doest a 
 wrong against Him, thou shalt have neither 
 the desire of thine heart nor yet go free of 
 the penalty of lifelong sorrow and a bitter 
 end." 
 
 For a moment Lairgnen quailed. The 
 angry voice of a cleric was a perilous omen 
 in those days. Then he strode forward, drag- 
 ging after him the four swans. 
 
 Suddenly a wild, strange cry resounded over 
 the church. All stood silent, appalled. To 
 Fionula only was it revealed that it was neither 
 the screaming of the wind, nor the thin shrewd 
 wail of the sea, nor the savage cry of a sea-mew 
 — but that it was the voice of Aeifa, that lost 
 forlorn demon of the air for whom there might 
 be no rest now till the day of the flame of 
 which St. Kemoc spoke. 
 
 " Come ! " said Lairgnen, with a great effort. 
 
 1 08 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 But when he strove with the chains, lo ! a 
 strange thing happened. These fell apart, and 
 at the same moment the great wings of the 
 swans contracted, and the white feathers that 
 were the beauty of their bodies shrivelled. A 
 mist of blown feathers was about them : and 
 when Lairgnen and Kemoc looked through 
 this as it settled upon the ground like dust, 
 they beheld a wonderful and a terrible thing. 
 
 For as the feathers fell away from the chil- 
 dren of Lir, Fionula and her brothers once 
 more regained their human shape. But now 
 they were no longer fair and sweet and young, 
 as they were when Aeifa put her enchantment 
 upon them. They stood there, worn with 
 intolerable age. Grey and ashy were their 
 bodies, and long and sere and white their thin, 
 blanched hair : and they were tremulous as 
 reeds, and their wan hands were as the shaking 
 wan leaves of the poplar when autumn is 
 dead. 
 
 The children of Lir looked one upon the 
 other with dim, forlorn eyes. It was a bitter 
 thing to live so many ages only to find that 
 their own kith and kin were as dust, and that 
 their habitation was a wilderness, and that their 
 very race had passed away : to see each other 
 
 109 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 in human form again, but Fionula an aged 
 ancient woman, grey as old hanging moss and 
 wrinkled as the wave-rippled sand, and tall 
 Aed and swift Fiachra and laughing Conn as 
 three feeble old men, wavering as their own 
 shadows. 
 
 When Lairgnen saw this he was overcome 
 with dread. He uttered a strange cry, and, 
 averting his face, fled from the little chapel, 
 nor looked back once upon Innis Glora ; and 
 feared the following flight of his own shadow 
 till once more he reached his great house in 
 Conn aught, over which he heard a demon of 
 the air wailing and laughing, and knew that 
 it was Aeifa, and that the terror of this ban- 
 shee would be with him and his for ever. 
 
 As he fled, he heard the bitter execrations 
 of St. Kemoc, but these he heeded less than 
 the thin, inarticulate murmur of the voices 
 of the children of Lir, like the hum of gnats 
 in a well. 
 
 Nevertheless Kemoc himself was able to 
 hear the whisper of Fionula. So one may 
 hear the faint rustle of leaves in the heart of 
 a forest where there is no wind. 
 
 " Be swift, holy one, and give us baptism, 
 here before the altar. We have but a brief 
 
 no 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 while wherein to draw breath. Great is thy 
 sorrow at this parting, but not more great than 
 is ours. Nevertheless the end is always in the 
 beginning, and we are but the dry thistledown 
 of the young sprays of green. For thee, too, 
 O Kemoc, the vial of silence shall be broken, 
 but not until thy hair is like the foam of the 
 sea, and thine eyes dim as the light beneath 
 
 a wave." 
 
 Thereupon St. Kemoc led them slowly to- 
 wards the altar, and bade farewell to each, for 
 he saw that the shadow of death had covered 
 them from the soles of the feet to the chin 
 of the head, and was rising to the eyes. 
 
 Once more Fionula spoke. 
 
 " Farewell, dear brothers," she said. " We 
 are so old that we have forgotten age. Very 
 weary should we be were it not for sweet 
 death. We go far hence, and it may well be 
 that we visit Hy Brasil before we see the 
 shining of the gates of Paradise. There we 
 shall o-reet our father Lir, and he shall come 
 with us. And if he come not, we shall abide 
 with him, for love is stronger than death." 
 
 " Even so," whispered Aed and Fiachra and 
 Conn. 
 
 " And to thee, Kemoc, thou holy one," she 
 
 in 
 
THE TALE OF THE 
 
 murmured, " I have this thing for the saying. 
 We are of our people, and would fain be in 
 the darkness as our ancient forgotten dead 
 before us. It is not fitting that we lie in the 
 earth who are of the old race, and have the 
 blood of kings, and have lived in no dishonour, 
 and die as we have lived." 
 
 " Speak, Fionula." 
 
 " When we fail utterly and perish, as we 
 shall do within this hour that is upon us, O 
 Kemoc, remember that as in life I so often 
 sheltered my brothers against my breast and 
 sides when we were swans, we must not be 
 apart in death. Therefore bury us on this 
 spot and in one grave. 1 And in that grave 
 let Conn stand near me at my right side, and 
 Fiachra at my left, and let Aed my twin- 
 brother be before my face." 
 
 With that she sighed. So sighs a wan, drift- 
 ing leaf wind-slidden over sere grass. 
 
 Then Kemoc baptized Fionula and Aed and 
 Fiachra and Conn : and when he had given 
 them eternity and the company of saints, they 
 died. They did not fall, but wavered as dry 
 
 1 It was the wont among the early Celtic peoples to bury 
 their dead erect, particularly in the case of kings, and great 
 warriors, and sons and daughters of kings. 
 
 112 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 reeds, and were suddenly at one with their 
 own shadows, and were no more. 
 
 When the saint rose from his knees, he put 
 the tears from his face and stared into the 
 deeps of heaven. Then he had the joy of a 
 glad vision. Overhead he beheld four children 
 with light silver-shining wings, their faces 
 radiant : yet knew not whether they were little 
 ones or were youthful with new life, for the 
 glory dazzled him. A moment, as the foam- 
 bells on a falling wave, they were there : then 
 they vanished, and passed westward, and were 
 in Hy Brasil with Lir and their own people 
 even while Kemoc bent lamenting over the 
 frail ancient bodies that had been the children 
 of Lir. 
 
 So in that place a grave was digged, and 
 Fionula was placed standing therein : and by 
 her right side, Conn ; and by her left, Fiachra ; 
 and before her face, Aed. Over this grave 
 Kemoc raised a mound, and put a great stone 
 upon it. Then he made a lament over the 
 dead. 
 
 When all the people were gone, there re- 
 mained only Kemoc, and a young poet and 
 cleric named Ebric the son of Ebric, the son 
 of Ebric of Irros Domnann. And when St. 
 
 l.p. 113 H 
 
FOUR WHITE SWANS 
 
 Kemoc went to his cell, and knew the dark 
 hour, because of his sorrow, Ebric stood by 
 the great stone at the mound and graved in 
 Ogham the names of Fionula and Aed and 
 Fiachra and Conn. 
 
 The salt grasses wave out of the dust, the 
 dust of the powder of that stone which Ebric 
 graved with cunning hand : but out of the 
 hearts of men who shall take the sorrowful 
 tale of the Children of Lir, or against it shall 
 prevail what frost of age, what breath of 
 time ? 
 
 The stone perisheth, but the winged word 
 on the breath of the lips endureth for ever. 
 
 "4 
 
The Fate of 
 the Sons of Turenn 
 
 ii 
 
 o 
 
^ n nun ■ ■ ■■i.rtPi' — -, 7, s — ! "l i u i V 
 
 Turenn interceding for his sons. 
 To face p. 117.] 
 
The Fate of 
 the Sons of Turenn 
 
 I WILL tell you now the old heroic saga of 
 the Fate of the Sons of Turenn : how they 
 paid the great eric laid upon them by Lu the 
 Long- Handed, called the Ildanna because of 
 his great wisdom in all magic craft and De- 
 dannan lore ; and how at the last their daunt- 
 less bravery was as sand before the wind, as 
 mist before the sun, as dew upon the grass. 
 
 It is one of the most ancient of tales. Brian, 
 Ur, and Urba, the sons of Turenn, did their 
 great wrong upon Kian, the father of Lu of 
 the Long Hand, and paid their unheard-of and 
 heroic eric, when Bove Derg, the last king of 
 the Dedannans, was still a youth — and that was 
 long before the Children of Lir were changed 
 into four white swans. 
 
 No Milesian had been seen in Erin in those 
 
 117 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 days. Nevertheless the power of the 
 Dedannans was already broken, though they 
 were still foremost in green Banba, as the 
 bards loved to call Erin, after a great queen 
 who had reigned there, when the Fairy Host 
 was supreme : for the fierce Fomorian pirates 
 of the north had descended upon them again 
 and again like a devastating plague, and at last 
 their High King, the King of Lochlin, Balor 
 of the Evil Eye, had subdued them into bon- 
 dage. 
 
 Year by year, and that for the fourth part 
 of a year, Balor sent his emissaries to collect 
 tribute. The men were of the greatest and 
 fiercest of the black Fomorians, so called be- 
 cause they were black-haired and black-bearded, 
 with fells as coarse and thick as those of 
 wild boars. These men were dreaded by the 
 Dedannans, for they appeared to be beyond 
 all reach of magic spells, and to have more 
 terrible arms and an invincible power in war- 
 fare. 
 
 At that time Nuadh of the Silver Hand was 
 High King of Erin. He was the most prudent 
 of all the Dedannan kings, but there were many 
 of the wisest druids and bards even in his own 
 day who lamented that he was over-prudent, 
 
 nS 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 and that it would be wiser to risk all in order 
 to regain honour and freedom than to lose all 
 for the sake of an inglorious peace. Neverthe- 
 less, so great was the love of life among the 
 people at large, and so keen was their desire 
 to be left at peace by the Fomorians, that 
 Nuadh of the Silver Hand put aside his kingli- 
 hood, and agreed to pay both tribute and 
 homage. 
 
 The yearly tax laid by Balor of the Evil 
 Eye upon Nuadh of the Silver Hand and all 
 the Dedannan folk, was this : a tax sepa- 
 rately upon querns, kneading - troughs, and 
 baking-flags, the three things which every 
 Dedannan had to use. Besides this, there was 
 a tax of one gold ounce for every man and 
 woman of the Tuatha-De-Danann. Every year 
 the people had to assemble at the Hill of Tara, 
 where the High King had his palace, and there 
 submit their tribute with many obeisances to 
 the dark, scowling emissaries of Balor of the 
 Evil Eye. 
 
 In one year of the years this happened as 
 before. But after Nuadh of the Silver Hand 
 and all his nobles and druids and all the 
 Dedannans had made humble obeisance be- 
 fore the Fomorians, and while the tribute was 
 
 119 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 being put together, a strange sight was de- 
 scried. 
 
 Coming from the east was a company of 
 lordly men, splendidly arrayed in white with 
 gleaming helmets and shields, and riding tall 
 white horses. These were headed by a youth- 
 ful champion of so great a stature and so 
 warlike a mien, that all men knew he could be 
 none other than Lu the Long- Handed, son 
 of Kian the Noble. All the northlands and 
 eastlands of Erin were aware of the rumour of 
 his great valour and worth, and there was at 
 that day no champion so feared between the 
 two seas. 
 
 Lu, son of Kian, was also of the De- 
 dannans, but he was of the older and rarer 
 branch, and he and his claimed that the Fairy 
 Host, of which they formed the chief ornament, 
 rose or fell by their support. Among the 
 splendid company were the sons of Manannan, 
 son of Lir, the lord of the sea, and other 
 chieftains and brave knights. Yet, as they 
 approached, it was Lu of the Long Hand 
 who held all eyes. Upon his head was a 
 golden helmet, wherefrom gleamed two great 
 shining stones — the eyes of strange gods they 
 seemed to the people. His body was covered 
 
 120 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 with shining armour that was no other than the 
 famous coat of armour of Manannan, through 
 which no weapon might pierce ; and by his 
 side hung the terrible sword, the " Answerer," 
 which had but one answer for every one against 
 whom it was raised — death. The horse, too, 
 that Lu rode was the far-famed stallion of 
 Manannan, so swift that the March wind could 
 not overtake him, nor could water, air, or 
 land offer any obstacles to his progress. 
 
 A great shout welcomed these champions of 
 the Fairy Host as they drew near, but this 
 shout came from the assemblage outside of 
 Tara ; and neither the king nor his lords rose 
 at their approach. The Fomorians scowled 
 and stood apart, and then scornfully resumed 
 their tax-gathering. 
 
 When they had finished their task the 
 Fomorians rose and together approached the 
 place where the king sat high among his people. 
 
 As they drew near, Nuadh of the Silver 
 Hand and all his lords rose and made humble 
 obeisance. 
 
 At this, Lu the Ildanna frowned, and when 
 Lu of the Long Hand frowned his company 
 knew that evil was like to come. 
 
 "Tell me, O King," he said haughtily : "why 
 
 121 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 do you make obeisance to these rude, ungainly- 
 folk, and did none to us when we approached, 
 to us who are of the old Dedannan race ? " 
 
 Thereupon Nuadh of the Silver Hand spake 
 the bitterness of truth, and how it was that in 
 order to save the land from devastation, and his 
 people from rapine and outrage, he submitted to 
 the Fomorian yoke. And for the same reason 
 he had not ventured to pay homage to Lu and 
 the Fairy Host, for the Fomorians w r ould have 
 taken this as an insult to Balor of the Evil 
 Eye, and some great evil would have ensued. 
 
 Lu smiled scornfully. 
 
 "And at the worst, O Nuadh of the Silver 
 Hand, there is a disastrous end and death. 
 What then ? Is not death the sure end of all 
 men, and is not disaster the lot of many a hero 
 as well as of many a slave ? " 
 
 "That is so, Ildanna." 
 
 "Then why evade that shadow, and all be- 
 cause of fear of these dark pirates out of the 
 north. Is not honour better than safety, 
 and is not shame a worse death than to be 
 slain ? " 
 
 " Even so, Ildanna. Nevertheless, I wish 
 to avoid vain bloodshed. There can be but 
 one end. Why should I ruin my people ? " 
 
 122 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 " Ruin is not a sure thing, O King : but if it 
 were, better ruin than dishonour." 
 
 " Dost thou speak as a lord of high birth, or 
 as one of the common people ? " 
 
 " I speak as the son of Kian the Noble." 
 
 " Even so ; but for each noble in my king- 
 dom there are a thousand Dedannans of 
 no rank. I am their king. I speak for 
 them." 
 
 For a time thereafter Lu sat brooding. 
 His silence was worse than his scornful words. 
 Nuadh the King saw what was in his mind, 
 and dreaded that he would go forth in his 
 wrath. Thrice he half rose as though to lay 
 hands upon Lu to restrain him, and thrice 
 he sat back uncertain what to do. 
 
 Then suddenly Lu rose, and in the eyes 
 of all men drew slowly from its sheath his great 
 white sword. At sight of the "Answerer," 
 there was a shiver among the Dedannans, so 
 great was the terrible fame of this sword, but 
 still more because the drawing of it there and 
 then by Lu of the Long Hand meant that 
 the flame was in his blood. 
 
 " Beware ! " cried the king. 
 
 But Lu laughed a grim laugh. Then, lift- 
 ing the " Answerer" on high, and knitting his 
 
 T OO 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 brows into a heavy frown, he sprang in among 
 the Fomorians. 
 
 It was like the leap of lightning among wild 
 cattle, that. Hither and thither the "Answerer" 
 flashed, and at each blow a Fomorian head 
 whirled to the ground ; yea, as a sharp prow 
 will divide the wave-crest from the wave, so 
 the great sword severed the head from the 
 shoulders of each Fomorian, shoring through 
 helmet or thick fell of hair as through water. 
 
 It was not till a whirlwind of swords 
 flashed and circled around Lu that those 
 about him woke from their stupor. Then 
 with a loud shout the sons of Manannan and 
 others of the Fairy Host leaped forward and 
 joined in the fray. 
 
 The Fomorians fought with fury, being 
 wrought to madness by the thought that they 
 were as chaff before these newcomers, in the 
 face of the whole Dedannan nation — for so 
 great was their scorn of the people they held 
 in bondage that death at their hands seemed 
 doubly accursed. 
 
 But before Lu of the Long Hand and his 
 Fairy Host there was no withstaying. By 
 tens and scores the Fomorians fell, as swaying 
 grain before the reaper. Everywhere, flashing 
 
 124 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 like a meteor, the white gleam of the Answerer 
 rose and fell, the pulse of death. 
 
 At last only nine of the Fomorian pirates 
 survived, and these clustered upon a low rising-, 
 and fought desperately to the end. Suddenly 
 the tides of battle ceased, and this was because 
 of the voice of Lu Ildanna. 
 
 He looked scornfully at the remnant of the 
 proud Fomorians. These were now sullenly 
 at bay, foreseeing death only, and not un- 
 willingly now that the despised Dedannans 
 had brought them to so sore a pass. 
 
 " Let these dogs go ! " exclaimed Lu. 
 
 At the bitter words, the emissaries of King 
 Balor of Lochlin gripped their swords anew, 
 and ground their teeth in impotent rage. 
 More they could not do, for even in their 
 brief breathing space they saw that they were 
 beset by a hedge of spears. 
 
 " Let these dogs go ! ' Lu said again. 
 Then, addressing them, he added : 
 
 " Look ye, ye carrion wolves, we spare your 
 lives only that ye may fare back to your dens 
 in the north, and tell that unkingly king, Balor 
 of the Evil Eye, that which we have done unto 
 your company. And say this also, that if he 
 come hither, we shall do unto him and his, that 
 
 125 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 which we have done unto these dead men who 
 were once your fellows." With that the nine 
 Fomorians departed, scowling fiercely and 
 below their breath muttering imprecations and 
 menaces. 
 
 That night the beacons of joy flared out 
 across valley and plain, from the hill of Tara, 
 and great were the rejoicings throughout the 
 land. Only Nuadh of the Silver Hand dreamed 
 uneasily for that and many other nights ; know- 
 ing well that Balor of the Evil Eye would not 
 let pass the slight which had been put upon 
 him. And after all, it was but a handful of 
 the Fomorian host which had been slain on 
 the Plains of Tara. Nevertheless, the king 
 hoped that he might be spared the wrath 
 of Balor, for none of the Dedannans whom 
 he ruled had taken part in the fray, but only 
 those who were of the company of Lu of the 
 Long Hand. 
 
 Bitter, indeed, was the wrath of Balor, when 
 he heard what had been done to his Fomorian 
 emissaries. 
 
 " The Dedannans shall soon be but a 
 memory," he exclaimed ; " their kings and 
 nobles shall utterly perish, and of all their 
 race none shall survive save those who shall 
 
 126 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 be slaves for ever to my people. Their very 
 land, that green Eri they are so fain of, shall 
 be no more than an unregarded province of 
 Lochlin." 
 
 Thereafter, Balor sent word throughout all 
 Lochlin, from the Cape of the Midnight Sun 
 to the Narrow Seas, 1 and bade all the peoples 
 who owned him king to assemble speedily for 
 war ; and in every haven he bade the sea- 
 galleys to be got ready. 
 
 This took many weeks, and thereafter was 
 the slow waiting for the coming of spring. 
 But at last all was ready, and then Bras, the 
 son of Balor, led forth the mightiest host which 
 had ever sailed from the shores of Lochlin. 
 
 This vast concourse of galleys sailed north- 
 ward before favouring winds, and then west- 
 ward along the storm- swept coasts of Alba, and 
 at last southward again by the Hebrid Isles. 
 Thence, with fresh provisions and replenished 
 water-barrels, they sailed towards and round 
 the northern headlands of Eri, and like a great 
 flock of sea-vultures settled upon the coasts of 
 Connauo^ht. 
 
 With laughter and fierce disdain the Fomori- 
 
 1 i.e., from the north of Norway to the coasts of Denmark. 
 
 127 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 ans spread far and wide, and at once began to 
 despoil the country, and lay waste the tilled 
 lands. In the ears of all rang the arrogant 
 parting" words of Balor of the Evil Eye: "And 
 when at the last ye have cut off for me the head 
 of that man Lu, called the Ildanna, then put a 
 mighty cable around this troublesome Isle of 
 Erin, and tow it back with your ships, and lay 
 it alongside the north coasts of our Lochlin." 
 
 But meanwhile all the realms of the Tuatha- 
 De-Danann were smitten with fear. None 
 dared await the dreaded Fomorians, and 
 everywhere were flying hordes of men and 
 women and children, chariots, horses, and 
 cattle. 
 
 The king of Connaught in that day was 
 Bove Derg, son of the Dagda, he who after- 
 wards became the last Dedannan king. 
 Straightway he sent word to Lu Ildanna, 
 begging him to raise a host and succour the 
 men of Connaught, as otherwise not a man 
 would be left to stay the advance of the 
 Fomorians. 
 
 Lu of the Lone Hand was sorrowful that 
 by his action he had brought this curse upon 
 the lands of Erin, yet he knew that it was 
 better than the old shame. By the Sun and 
 
 128 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 Moon and Wind he swore that he would do all 
 he could to raise a host, and himself give battle 
 to Bras and his Fomorians. 
 
 With all speed he hasted to Dunree, and was 
 glad indeed when he saw the Hill of Tara rise 
 from the plain. For of a surety he held that 
 Nuadh of the Silver Hand would join with the 
 princes of Erin and fight the invader. 
 
 That surety was in vain. Nuadh refused to 
 go into battle. 
 
 " When Bras leads his Fomorians towards 
 the Hill of Tara," he said, " that will be time 
 for me to raise the banner against him." 
 
 " Listen, Nuadh of the Silver Hand, art thou 
 not Hisfh King?" exclaimed Lu. 
 
 " Even so, Ildanna." 
 
 " And is not thy first duty to lead the princes 
 of Erin against the invader ? If we are all as 
 one, we can laugh at Balor of the Evil Eye 
 and all the host he sends against us. If we are 
 divided we shall surely fall." 
 
 But for all the pleadings of Lu Ildanna, 
 Nuadh refused to take the field. He had one 
 answer to all pleas. 
 
 " Bras and his Fomorian host do no more 
 than lay waste the lands of Connaught. Let 
 then the kine of Connaught see to his own. 
 
 L.P. 129 I 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 I have sent friendly messages to Balor, and in 
 order to keep the peace have offered alliance 
 and even to pay tribute again. But till war is 
 declared against me I will do nothing." 
 
 Furious against Nuadh of the Silver Hand, 
 Lu Ildanna rode away. 
 
 " Dust upon thy home," he muttered, " were 
 it not for the ruin upon all Erin. Neverthe- 
 less, I have but one thing to do." 
 
 Lu had not ridden far, when his heart re- 
 joiced because of three strong warriors he saw 
 approaching. 
 
 These were his father, Kian, and the two 
 brothers of his father, Aid and Art. In that 
 day the seven fairest champions in the north- 
 lands of Erin were Lu himself, Kian and his 
 two brothers, and Brian, Ur, and Urba, the 
 sons of Turenn. Each of these was a host in 
 himself, both because of his own valour and for 
 the great influence that each had upon the 
 clansmen of the north. 
 
 In a brief while Lu told all, and begged 
 the aid of these three chiefs for Bove Derg, 
 and not for Bove Derg only, but for the hon- 
 our and safety of Erin. 
 
 Kian and Aid and Art were wroth with the 
 
 hi^h kingf. 
 
 130 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 " The first duty of a king is kinglihood," said 
 Kian. 
 
 "And without deathless courage a king is 
 dead," said Aid. 
 
 "And without sleepless eyes a king is a 
 sluggard," said Art. 
 
 "A king should be to all men what each 
 man would fain be to himself," said Lu. 
 " My father Kian says well : the first duty of 
 a kinof is kinglihood. But since Nuadh of the 
 Silver Hand is fain to rest at ease in his dun, 
 under the safe shadow of Tara, so let him rest. 
 We are men, and must act." 
 
 Therewith all took counsel, and while Lu 
 rode westward, to raise all whom he could to 
 succour the men of Connaught, Aid and Art 
 rode southward. 
 
 " I shall go north," said Kian. 
 
 "Why so?" asked Lu, knowing that it 
 would be best for his father to go eastward. 
 
 "The wind bloweth that way," answered 
 Kian lightly. But truly enough none knew 
 that in that answer and in that riding north- 
 ward, was the beginning of the long and 
 dreadful tragedy of which, for generations 
 thereafter, the bards sang as The Fate of the 
 Sons of Turenn. 
 
 131 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 •7r ^r '/r w 
 
 At this point Peterkin rose from where he 
 kneeled beside Eilidh, and went over to Ian 
 Mor and took his hand and looked long at 
 him. 
 
 " These words I have heard you say again 
 and again, Ian — Ma tha sin an Dan, if it be 
 Destiny — what do they mean ? " 
 
 " I cannot tell you, Peterkin ; for to me they 
 mean everything." 
 
 " But must Kian come to sorrow because he 
 followed the way of the wind ? " 
 
 " I cannot tell you, Peterkin. But of this 
 you may be sure, that no man needs to do 
 this or that thing because of the way of the 
 wind or anything else. Only, behind all 
 doings of men there is a wind that blows. 
 That is the wind of Destiny. That is what I 
 meant when I said that Kian, choosing lightly 
 to go the way of the wind, and by his own 
 choice, yet went the way of Fate." 
 
 " And is Fate a man ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Have you ever seen it?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Has any one ever seen it ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 132 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 Peterkin laughed below his breath. 
 
 " Ivor Maclean, the boatman, told me that 
 1 an Dan ' was only a shadow before and 
 behind, and that none need trouble about a 
 shadow." 
 
 " And what do you think, Peterkin ?" 
 
 "I think that 'an Dan' is only a shadow 
 before and behind ; and I laugh to see my 
 shadow, but I do not fear it. It is only a 
 shadow." 
 
 " Peterkin is right, Ian," said Eilidh, in a 
 low voice. "And do you remember what was 
 said long ago about wisdom coming out of the 
 mouths of little children ?" 
 
 "Yes," Ian answered slowly and gravely, 
 " Peterkin is riQfht." 
 
 But Peterkin only laughed merrily, as sud- 
 denly he sprang up. 
 
 " See," he exclaimed, " my shadow has leapt 
 from beside me, till now it is fading along the 
 wall. When I laughed it leapt away." 
 
 Well, resumed Ian Mor, Kian was not many 
 miles forth upon the great pastures to the 
 north of Tara, when he saw three lordly men 
 riding towards him. 
 
 They were still a great way off, but Kian 
 
 T 11 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 the Noble was noted far and wide for his 
 keen sight, and he knew who the mailed and 
 shining ones were. They were Dedannans, 
 but they were of a clan at bitter feud with his 
 own ; and his heart quailed as he saw that in 
 that lonely place he would have to meet face 
 to face with Brian, Ur, and Urba, the sons 
 of Turenn. Far better would it have been 
 for him to ride forward fearlessly, and call 
 upon the sons of Turenn to put all enmity 
 aside in the face of the bitter danger to Erin 
 because of Bras and his Fomorians. But a 
 man born under a dark star must soon or late 
 ride into the shadow of that star. 
 
 So when Kian had realized that the foes of 
 him and his house were fast approaching, he 
 cast about for some way to delude the sons of 
 Turenn. Already they had seen the stranger, 
 though they had not recognised him. 
 
 In common with all the lords of the De- 
 dannans, Kian carried with him a maQfic wand. 
 With this he could at any time transform 
 himself into some living creature. And so it 
 happened that, while he was still pondering, 
 he caught sight of a vast herd of swine feed- 
 ing upon the thistle-pastures to the left ; and 
 no sooner had he done so than he took his 
 
 134 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 wand and changed himself into a boar. His 
 horse, too, he changed ; and then both, graz- 
 ing often, joined the great herd, and were soon 
 at one with it. 
 
 Kian laughed to himself at how he had 
 outwitted the sons of Turenn, but oversoon 
 did he laugh. After all he was sorrowful ; for 
 it was not seemly for a man to change himself 
 into a pig, lest death or some disaster came 
 upon him in that guise : for, according as a 
 man's doom came to him, so would he have to 
 bear it. 
 
 Meanwhile the three sons of Turenn rode 
 across the plain. Fair to see were they, 
 these three comely lords : Brian, the eldest 
 and strongest ; Ur, the tallest and fairest ; and 
 Urba the swift. They had seen Kian riding 
 slowly towards them, but had not thought 
 more than that he was an emissary from 
 Dunree, where Nuadh of the Silver Hand was. 
 When, however, they missed him suddenly, 
 Brian frowned and drew rein. 
 
 "Tell me, my brothers," he exclaimed, 
 " where is he whom a brief while ago we saw 
 ridino- toward us ? " 
 
 " He is no longer to be seen," Urba an- 
 swered. " Yet there is no hiding-place that 
 
 135 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 we wot of. If he were lying on the grass, we 
 should descry him and his horse from where 
 
 we now are." 
 
 ''They are not on the grass," said Ur; "for 
 I could see a slim greyhound were it lying 
 there." 
 
 Brian pondered awhile. Then he spoke 
 again. 
 
 " As ye know well, war is all about us now, 
 and it befits us to be wary. It is clear that 
 the man we saw was no friend to us, or why 
 has he hidden himself? But I think I know 
 his secret : with a magic wand he has turned 
 himself into a pig, and is now among that 
 great herd of swine that we see yonder." 
 
 " Then he has escaped us, Brian ?" 
 
 " Not so, Ur. I too have my magic wand 
 with me ; with it I shall now turn my two 
 brothers into swift hounds. Ye shall then 
 speed in among these swine and see if ye can 
 root out this man, who is surely an enemy." 
 
 And with that Brian took his wand, and 
 changed his brothers into hounds ; and they 
 raced away with the speed of the wind, while 
 he rode swiftly towards a belt of forest which 
 skirted the plain to the rear of the herd. 
 
 When the baying" of the hounds was heard, 
 
 136 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 a panic seized upon the swine. Like a great 
 swaying mass of seaweed in the trough of the 
 waves, the herd swung to and fro ; ever be- 
 coming more and more densely packed, and 
 squealing and grunting in terror and bewilder- 
 ment as the two gaunt hounds sprang against 
 their heaving masses or dashed to and fro in 
 their midst. 
 
 At the east they were so driven in upon 
 themselves, that they became as one solid 
 mass, close-wedged. Among these dense hun- 
 dreds it seemed impossible for Ur and Urba 
 to find the enchanted man ; but while they 
 were still running to and fro in their ea^er 
 quest, Brian saw a pig leap from the rear of 
 the herd and run swiftly towards the belt of 
 forest. 
 
 Brian put his horse upon the wind, as the 
 saying is ; and it was a race then between the 
 mounted man and the enchanted boar : but 
 just as the first undergrowth was nigh Brian 
 came up with the fleeing animal, and drove his 
 hunting-spear in betwixt its shoulders. 
 
 With a terrible scream the flying boar rolled 
 over ; then, with a wild human crying and 
 speech, begged for pity. 
 
 " Oh, son of Turenn," it cried, " have pity 
 
 137 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 upon me ! Sure it is an evil deed to slay me 
 thus, well knowing who I am ! " 
 
 " I know that thy voice is the voice of a 
 man," answered Brian, "but I know not who 
 thou art. I am Brian, eldest of the sons of 
 Turenn. Tell me thy name." 
 
 " He who implores thy mercy, O Brian of 
 the Oak Shaft, is Kian, the father of thy 
 comrade in years and arms, Lu of the Long 
 Hand." 
 
 By this time Ur and Urba were beside 
 the victor and the victim, and now resumed 
 their human shape. When they heard the 
 pleadings of Kian they interceded for him, 
 notwithstanding the deadly feud between the 
 clans of Turenn and Kian. But Brian would 
 not listen to their counsel, not even when 
 Ur pleaded that great evil might come out 
 of the slaying of Kian, nor when Urba urged 
 that this was not the day and the hour for 
 such a deed, when Erin needed every man to 
 fight against the Fomorians. And, of a truth, 
 that has ever been the sad way of the Gael, 
 who will think of the private wrong first. 
 than of the general weal, and so will fall as a 
 single tree will fall where a forest would be 
 steadfast. 
 
 13S 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 When Kian saw that his fate was come upon? 
 him, and heard Brian swear by a sacred oath 
 that he would not spare him though he re- 
 turned thrice to life, or seven times changed 
 his form, he made one last supplication. 
 
 "At the least, as ye are honourable men, 
 save me this dishonour. Let me not die as a 
 pig, but as a man. I have dropped my magic 
 wand ; therefore, O Brian, I pray of thee to 
 take thine, and with it restore me to mine own 
 form." 
 
 " That shall be done," said the chief, adding 
 scornfully, " for sure it is an easier thing for 
 me to kill a man than a pig." 
 
 But no sooner was Kian a man again than 
 he laughed mockingly. 
 
 "Why do you laugh thus?" asked Ur. 
 
 " I laugh because I have outwitted ye at the 
 last, ye sons of Turenn. What is death to me 
 who have a dust of grey hairs over my once 
 black locks, or is death indeed a thing- at any 
 time to fear overmuch? Ill as it would befit 
 me to die as a pig, still more ill would it be 
 because of that which follows death." 
 
 " Speak," said Ur, though in his heart both 
 he and his brothers knew what Kian was about 
 to say. 
 
 139 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 " I have outwitted ye, as I have said ; for if 
 as a pig I had been slain by Brian of the 
 Oak Shaft, then ye would have had no other 
 eric to pay for me than the eric of a pig, but 
 now ye shall have to pay the eric of a man, and 
 upon that the eric of a father of grown sons, 
 and upon that the fatherhood eric of each son, 
 and upon that the eric of a great lord, and upon 
 that the eric of the broken honour of my son 
 Lu of the Long Hand. And I tell ye this, 
 that never has there been, nor ever will be, so 
 great an eric as that which ye shall have to pay 
 for this deed of thine, so that in the years to 
 come men shall speak of the eric of the sons 
 of Turenn as the most difficult and the worst 
 that was ever paid in Erin." 
 
 " That may be," said Brian sullenly, " but we 
 shall slay thee here, in this waste place, and 
 none shall know when death came to thee, or 
 where thou liest, and for all that thy son Lu 
 is Lu the Ildanna, he shall seek in vain to 
 know where the worms make merry upon 
 thee." 
 
 "In the shadow of death I see clearly, and I 
 
 see that death will not put his silence upon 
 
 me till Lu has learned the evil deed that has 
 
 been done." 
 
 140 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 " Spare him," urged Urba, " for of a surety 
 he is already sore wounded, and he did no 
 more than seek to escape us. It would be well, 
 Brian, not to have this man's blood upon us." 
 
 " Spare him," pleaded Ur, " for innocent 
 blood is an ill thing to spill. This man did not 
 come upon us with lifted spear or sword, but, 
 seeing that we were three and he one only, 
 sought to escape. It is not a knightly deed to 
 take the life of a stricken man, and of one who 
 asks for mercy." 
 
 "We will slay him," said Brian sullenly. 
 
 "Remember this," pleaded Ur, " that if we 
 slay him, Urba and I must pay the penalty 
 along with thee, and that it is a hard thing 
 upon us who would fain spare this man." 
 
 Brian laughed. 
 
 " If ye and Urba fear the eric, ye may go 
 hence at once. I will do my own slaying. 
 But ye forget that the sons of Turenn are 
 under geas to have no quarrel that is not the 
 quarrel of each, and to fight no fight wherein 
 each doth not front it in the same hour and 
 place." 
 
 "We do not foroet," answered Ur and 
 Urba ; and each added : " Do as thou wilt,. 
 Brian, our elder brother." 
 
 141 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 So Brian turned to where Kian lay upon the 
 •stony thistle-strewn grass. 
 
 " Hast thou aught more to say ? " 
 
 " This only, that no eric ever paid shall be 
 counted as near unto that which ye shall have 
 to pay, and that the weapons wherewith ye 
 slay me shall cry out to Lu my son, and tell 
 him what ye three have done unto me." 
 
 Ap-ain Brian laughed. 
 
 "Thou who fled before us as a pig shalt die 
 as a trapped beast. We shall not give thee 
 the honour of death by the clean sword or the 
 deft spear." 
 
 With that he stooped and raised on high a 
 huge angular slab of stone, grey below, and 
 mossed and lichened above, and, swaying with 
 the weight, hurled it down upon the head of 
 Kian. Then Ur and Urba lifted other great 
 stones, and did likewise, because of their bond. 
 And this was how death came to Kian the 
 Noble. 
 
 When the old chief lay still and white at last, 
 the three sons of Turenn made haste to hide 
 his body from sight ; so they dug a great hole 
 in the sandy grass, and buried the slain 
 man. 
 
 There was a strange trembling in the earth 
 
 142 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 that day, a trembling felt throughout Erin from 
 sea to sea, and men marvelled and feared. 
 
 But none so much marvelled as Brian and 
 Ur and Urba, for when they had buried the 
 bruised body of Kian they saw with horror that 
 the shaking earth threw it back again. Never- 
 theless, once more they buried it, and deeper, 
 and put heavy stones upon the trodden sods. 
 Then, to their still greater horror and amaze, 
 the earth a^ain trembled and arain threw back 
 the murdered dead. 
 
 At that Ur and Urba wished to ride away 
 at once from the accursed place, but Brian 
 would not. 
 
 " Fate is made by men, as well as that Fate 
 rules men," he said. " I shall not rest content 
 till the earth holds at last the body of Kian, son 
 of Kian the White." 
 
 Yet it was not until the seventh time that 
 the earth trembled no more, and held within it, 
 beneath a cairn of boulders, the slain body of 
 Kian the Noble. 
 
 Thereafter the three sons of Turenn rode 
 swiftly away, and that night were among the 
 host which had been assembled by Lu of the 
 Long Hand. 
 
 On the morrow, on the vast plains of 
 
 MS 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 Moytura, the great and terrible Battle of the 
 Kites was fought. It was so called because 
 after a day of dreadful slaughter the kites and 
 hawks assembled in multitudes, and were 
 satiated with the feast of the dead. In that 
 battle the fiercest strife was on the part of four 
 heroes : Lu the Ildanna, and the three sons 
 of Turenn. For hours the swaying and whirl- 
 ing of spears, the rush of javelins, the flashing 
 of swords, the trampling of horses and crash of 
 war-chariots, made the plain of Moytura a place 
 of savage din and fury. For long it seemed as 
 though the great might and numbers of the 
 Fomorians would give the day to Bras, son 
 of Balor of the Evil Eye ; but so great was 
 the prowess of the Dedannan host, that 
 the Fomorians were mowed down as ripe 
 grain. 
 
 In the wane of the afternoon, Bras and Lu 
 met at last. The tides of war ceased, for all 
 men wished to see the battle-meeting of these 
 two champions. 
 
 But already Bras had seen that the day had 
 gone against the glory of Lochlin, and he knew 
 that an hour hence his great army would be 
 utterly routed, and that all who did not 
 straightway escape to the shores of Connaught 
 
 144 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 and gain the Fomorian galleys would be 
 tracked and cut down like flying wolves. 
 
 So he lowered his great spear, and threw his 
 shield upon the ground, and thereafter asked 
 Lu to stay the tides of battle, and agreed that 
 the day should be accounted as a final victory 
 to the men of Erin. And the son of the king 
 of Lochlin further agreed, that if Lu and the 
 leaders of the Dedannans would do this, he 
 would Qrive a solemn bond to withdraw all the 
 Fomorians from Erin, to cancel for ever the 
 bond put upon the Tuatha-De-Danann by 
 Balor of the Evil Eye, and never to return 
 again in enmity, neither he nor any Fomorian 
 of the north nor southlander of lower Lochlin. 
 
 And thus it was that the great battle of 
 Moytura, the Battle of the Kites, came to an 
 end. A year thereafter the grass was not yet 
 green, and the plain was covered with the 
 white bones of the innumerous dead. 
 
 When all was over, and Bras and his de- 
 feated army were hasting towards the distant 
 Connaught shores, Lu threw from him his 
 blood-stained armour and the weapons he was 
 almost too weary to bear. All day he had 
 fought, as only the mightiest heroes fight, and 
 many strong and valorous men had marvelled 
 
 l.p. 145 K 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 at his dauntless courage and at the prowess 
 that failed not for one moment. 
 
 Glad was Lu of the Long Hand to see 
 Aid and Art, but when he asked how his 
 father had fared in the battle, and heard 
 that he had not been there, and had been 
 seen of no man that day, he knew that 
 Kian the Noble was no longer alive. 
 
 "For," he said, "if my father were alive 
 he would have been with me this day, or, if 
 peradventure that were not possible, would 
 have sent me a sign. Howsoever this may 
 be, something within me tells that my father 
 is no longer among the living. And now, 
 ye who hear me, listen, for by the Sun and 
 the Moon and the Wind I swear that I shall 
 not slake this bitter thirst of mine, nor rest 
 this over- weary head, until I have found 
 how and where and when an evil fate came 
 upon my father, whom I loved as I have 
 loved and love none other." 
 
 That night Lu Ildanna, with a hundred 
 chosen men, rode swiftly to Tara, but there 
 found no word of Kian. 
 
 On the morrow he set forth at dawn, alone ; 
 for in a dream it had come to him that his 
 father lay moaning beneath the thistle-strewn 
 
 146 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 grass on the stony plain of Moy Murhenna. 
 And there, in truth, Lu came upon the 
 end of his quest ; for as he rode slowly and 
 sadly across the plain, whereon he could not 
 discern a living being" save a vast herd of 
 
 o o 
 
 swine, he heard, as one may hear in a shell, 
 a plaintive sighing. 
 
 "What is that sighing?" he cried. "Is it 
 the death-sigh of thee, Kian my father ? " 
 
 There was no answer save the strange 
 sighing, that was not of the wind or any 
 moving thing, but seemed now to come from 
 above, now from around, now from beneath. 
 But at the third asking, a voice answered, 
 thin and feeble : 
 
 "It is the death-sighing of me, Kian thy 
 father, O Lu my son." 
 
 " And who put death upon thee, thou who 
 liest there in the darkness of the shadow of 
 death?" 
 
 " The three sons of Turenn slew me here 
 in this waste place. And because that they 
 slew me in no fair strife, and because that 
 they finished their slaying by crushing me 
 with great stones till there was not left of 
 me one bone alive, I cry to thee, O Lu my 
 son, whom men now call Lu the Ildanna, be- 
 
 M7 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 cause of thy craft and wisdom, to see that 
 a greater eric be exacted for me than has 
 ever yet been exacted in Erin for any slain 
 man. And in the end see that thou sparest 
 not, for otherwise there shall be a greater 
 bloodshed still ; and ill it befits us, who are 
 noble, that we should bring a tide of blood 
 over Erin, for no worthier cause than the 
 wiping out of that which lies between the clan 
 of Kian and the clan of Turenn." 
 
 " As thou say est, O Kian my father, so 
 shall it be, and even unto the end. And 
 this I swear by the Sun and by the Moon and 
 by the Wind." 
 
 Nevertheless, Lu showed no grief till he 
 saw his father's bruised body before him, 
 and then he bewailed bitterly that he had 
 not been nigh when the sons of Turenn drove 
 Kian the Noble to his fate ; and bitterly he 
 lamented that one of the noble Dedannan 
 race should be slain by Dedannans ; and 
 bitterly he swore that an eric should be 
 exacted such as never before had been 
 heard of in Erin, and that in the end, even 
 were it fulfilled, he should not spare, because 
 of what Kian had foreseen. 
 
 At noon Lu returned from Tara, whither 
 
 148 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 he had gone after he had viewed the speech- 
 less dead body of his father, with ten chosen 
 men whom he had bound to silence. 
 
 So once more Kian the Noble was placed 
 in his grave, but now standing, as befits a 
 hero. And above the grave they raised a 
 cairn, and midway in this cairn was a great 
 slab of smooth stone, whereon Lu Ildanna 
 graved in Ogam the name and ancestry and 
 great fame of Kian, son of Kian, son of Kian 
 the Thunder-Smith. 
 
 But when that night Lu entered Tara 
 again, the whole of the king's town was lit 
 with torches, and resounded with joyous 
 shouts and cries because of the great victory 
 of the Dedannans over the Fomorians ; nor 
 was any name so often named as that of Lu 
 Lamfada, Lu the Long- Handed. 
 
 When Lu entered the palace of the king, 
 he was received with a mighty shout of wel- 
 come, and Nuadh of the Silver Hand himself 
 came to greet him, with fair loving words of 
 praise and gratitude. Right glad was the 
 king to see Lu come to him thus, for he 
 had feared that the Ildanna bore him a bitter 
 grudge because of his having refused his 
 aid to drive forth Bras and his Fomorians. 
 
 M9 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 Therefore it was that he paid honour to 
 Lu Ildanna above all other men, and led 
 him to a seat at his right hand, placing him 
 above the whole assemblage of princes and 
 great lords. 
 
 But Lu neither smiled nor made any sign 
 of pleasure. His eyes wandered round the 
 concourse of the Dedannan chivalry. Sud- 
 denly his gaze became intent and fixed, for 
 upon three golden-studded seats of honour he 
 beheld the three sons of Turenn. 
 
 The high king of Erin was about to 
 speak to his chiefs on the great matter of 
 rejoicing and counsel which had brought them 
 all together, when Lu arose. All stared in 
 amaze, for only some unforeseen emergency 
 could justify a noble speaking before the high 
 king had said what he had to say. 
 
 " O King of Erin," said Lu slowly, and 
 in a low voice, yet so clear and cold and 
 vibrant that it was heard of every man in 
 that vast concourse : " O King of Erin, 
 order the chain of silence to be brought hither, 
 and let its soft, delicate music be shaken from 
 it, for I have that to say that must be heard 
 of all men, and not in their ears only but in 
 their hearts and in their minds." 
 
 150 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 Therewith the Chain of Silence was brought, 
 and was shaken slowly and delicately by the 
 young druid whose charge it was. The sweet 
 low sound rose into the air like fragrance, 
 and passed through all the halls in Tara, and 
 filled the ears of every man, and the mind 
 of each, and the soul of each. There was not 
 a sound in all that place, not a whisper, not 
 a sigh. 
 
 In that great silence Lu moved forward till 
 he stood beside the king and faced the whole 
 assemblage. 
 
 " Chiefs and warriors of the Tuatha-De- 
 Danann, I have that to ask ye to which I 
 need an answer this day. Tell me this : 
 What would ye do unto one who wittingly, 
 and not in battle but shamefully, slew your 
 father, and he innocent, even such a man, 
 say, as Kian the Noble?" 
 
 There was no whisper of answer. All sat 
 there amazed, marvelling at the strange ques- 
 tion. But at last Nuadh the King spoke. 
 
 " What meaning lives in thy words. 
 Ildanna ? For we know that thy father 
 Kian is not slain, for he was not in the 
 Great Battle." 
 
 " Nevertheless he is slain, and here in this 
 
 151 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 royal place my eyes behold them who slew 
 him." 
 
 When Lu of the Long Hand had spoken 
 these words, every man looked from neigh- 
 bour to neighbour in amaze. But all waited 
 for the king to speak. 
 
 "What sayest thou, Nuadh of the Silver 
 Hand, Ardree of Erin ?" 
 
 " I have this to say, that if a man wit- 
 tingly, and without the just cause of war, slew 
 my father, and he innocent, I would not 
 be content with exacting death, but would 
 rather lop him limb from limb daily till he 
 died." 
 
 " And what say ye, chiefs and nobles of the 
 Dedannan race ? " 
 
 " We say as the Ardree says," cried one and 
 all, save the three who sat on golden-knobbed 
 seats near the high king, though these too 
 bowed their heads in acquiescence. 
 
 " And what say ye, ye sons of Turenn ? " 
 
 At this all turned and looked upon Brian 
 and Ur and Urba, who sat pale and stern. 
 Brian answered for himself and his brothers. 
 
 " We say as the high king says." 
 
 " Nuadh of the Silver Hand, Ardree. of 
 Erin, and all ye chieftains and chiefs and 
 
 152 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 nobles of the Dedannan race, I call ye to 
 witness that this man who has spoken slew 
 my father, and that he and his brothers are 
 jointly guilty of that foul deed." 
 
 For more than the furthest singing of an 
 arrow, there was silence. Neither the king 
 nor any man spoke, but all looked to the 
 sons of Turenn to say Yea or Nay. But Brian 
 and Ur and Urba sat in a frozen stillness, 
 and moved neither their hands nor their lips, 
 and stared only with unwavering eyes upon 
 the white accusing face of the son of the mur- 
 dered Kian. 
 
 Then Lu spoke again. 
 
 " Behold the men who slew my father. 
 And now, O king, I say not whether there 
 were good cause for this slaying : all men know 
 that there was a feud between the clans of 
 Kian and Turenn. Nor do I wish to bring 
 evil into this house and town of thine. Be- 
 cause one man is dead, there is no need that 
 others must die who have nought to do with 
 his death. I have come in peace : I would 
 go in peace. But this only I say : I go not 
 hence till I have won from the sons of Turenn 
 the vow of my eric." 
 
 "That is right and wise," answered the 
 
 153 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 king, "and for myself I would be well content 
 if, being guilty, I could evade death by paying 
 any eric whatsoever." 
 
 At this Brian rose. 
 
 " Lu, son of Kian, has spoken inadvisedly, 
 O king. He has accused us of a crime, he 
 knowing nothing of when or how that deed 
 was done, and in what circumstances, and how 
 made inevitable. Nor, again, have we ever 
 admitted that we are guilty of this deed of 
 murder." 
 
 " It is enough. Kian, father of Lu Ildanna, 
 came to his death through ye three sons 
 of Turenn. Whatsoever eric Lu may exact, 
 that eric ye shall have to pay. Otherwise 
 the lives that ye hold so dear, being your 
 own, will no longer have the shelter of this 
 royal place ; and as no man's hand can be 
 raised to aid thee, ye shall be at the mercy 
 of Lu of the Long Hand, and of whomsoever 
 he may bring against thee." 
 
 For a brief while Brian talked low with his 
 brothers ; then he turned and addressed Nuadh 
 the king and Lu Lamfada. 
 
 "We are for peace, not strife. We say not 
 we are guilty, but we will pay the eric that 
 Lu, son of Kian, may demand, save only 
 
 154 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 that it be not against the life of Turenn our 
 father." 
 
 " That is well said," exclaimed Nuadh of the 
 Silver Hand. 
 
 " I accept the troth," said Lu, " and now 
 call upon all here to witness that the sons of 
 Turenn have made a solemn pledge." 
 
 There were few there who did not wonder 
 what the eric would be, for all knew that Lu 
 was a stern man, and would not rest till he had 
 done his utmost to make the sons of Turenn 
 expiate their deed. 
 
 Great was their amazement, therefore, 
 when Lu gave forth the eric that he de- 
 manded. 
 
 " The eric I demand is this," he said : "that 
 ye bring me three apples, a certain skin, a 
 spear, two horses and a chariot, seven swine, 
 a hound, and a roasting spit. And further, 
 that ye shout three shouts upon a hill. Yet, if 
 ye will," Lu added scornfully, " I shall remit 
 a portion of this eric if ye find it too heavy 
 for ye." 
 
 "It is neither heavy nor great," answered 
 Brian, " if there be no hidden evil behind. 
 For by the Sun and Wind I swear that I 
 would not count too heavy an eric, three 
 
 155 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 hundreds of thousands of apples, or thrice a 
 hundred skins, or many score horses and 
 chariots, spears and hounds, or a shouting a 
 hundred times upon a hundred hills." 
 
 " Nevertheless, I do not account it small," 
 answered Lu gravely. " But give me now 
 security that ye shall fulfil this eric to the utter- 
 most." 
 
 " We give ourselves as security." 
 
 " Not so," exclaimed Lu scornfully. " I will 
 not have the security of thyselves." 
 
 " Then I call upon Bove Derg, son of the 
 Dagda, and upon Nuadh of the Silver Hand, 
 Ardree of Erin, and upon the score I shall 
 name of the foremost chiefs of the Dedannan 
 race, to be our pledge and warranty." 
 
 And after Brian had named the score, all 
 they, and Nuadh the king, and Bove Derg, the 
 son of the Dagda, gave the pledge, so that 
 thenceforth the sons of Turenn were under 
 solemn geas to fulfil the eric, or die in the effort 
 to fulfil that eric, or otherwise bring dishonour 
 upon all these noble and great lords, each of 
 whom moreover would be bound to seek the 
 lives of Brian and Ur and Urba. 
 
 "And now tell us if that is all, O Lu 
 Ildanna, for much I misdoubt me if thou hast 
 
 156 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 no evil thought for us behind thy fair-seeming 
 words." 
 
 Thereat all leaned forward and listened 
 eagerly, for each man knew that Lu was not 
 vainly called the Ildanna, for there was no one 
 in all Erin who had so much knowledge, or 
 whose craft was so greatly to be feared. 
 When he had uttered the eric that he de- 
 manded, all were at first amazed. Then some 
 had thought that he was under geas never to 
 exact a great eric, but always the smallest that 
 he might make ; but most were troubled, for 
 behind these slight exactions they knew that 
 he had arrowy intentions. 
 
 " Yes, ye sons of Turenn," Lu Lamfada 
 began slowly, " I shall tell ye now what my 
 eric is. I do not think ye shall find it over 
 easy." 
 
 Brian and Ur and Urba rose, but all the 
 host otherwise remained seated. The three 
 sons of Turenn leaned upon their spears, and 
 tall and goodly warriors they seemed, and 
 worthy of their great fame as three of the 
 seven chief champions of Erin. 
 
 " First, then, there is this. The skin I 
 demand of ye is one that belongs to the king 
 of Greece in the far eastern lands. It is the 
 
 157 
 
rill- FATE OF 
 
 skin of healing. No man need die oi wounds 
 
 who has that skin ; and cold water, too, it will 
 make into wine. 1 do not think ye will come 
 easily by that skin. 
 
 " Second, there is this. The spear 1 demand 
 of ye is the spear called Aradvar, the dreadful 
 spear of Pisarr, Prince o\ Persia, whose point 
 is for ever kept cooling in a cauldron of water, 
 so terrible is its fiery thirst, and that thirst for 
 blood. I do not think ye will find the spear 
 of Pisarr easy to obtain. 
 
 " Third, there is this. The chariot and two 
 horses that I demand ot' ve belong to Debar, 
 the kima of Sicily, They heed neither the 
 rough wavs oi the land nor the roiiedi wavs ot 
 the sea. but travel equally and at the will ot 
 him who drives. 1 do not think ye will find 
 it easy to obtain that chariot and its two 
 horses. 
 
 " Further, there is this. Far to the south 
 there is a great lord. Asol ot the Golden 
 Pillars. It is he who owns the seven swine I 
 ask oi ye. Ye may slav the seven and yet all 
 will remain. Thev know not death, though ve 
 may slao them and feed upon them. There is 
 no death upon them. I do not think ye will 
 find it easy to obtain these swine. 
 
 [58 
 
..■■-. 
 
 " Fifth, In a further land still, 
 that is called Irrua, 
 
 jnd narr linnish. 
 
 .r bea Is 
 
 in I c .ill find 
 
 th< with 
 
 "Sixth s. In ti ins is 
 
 an isle called Fian- he 
 
 !L lis fc 
 
 roast thi - od It Ls their roast- 
 
 • pit I ; I c' : :-.::.-: 
 find it ea tc obtain that thii 
 
 " S :h, th this The ree apples 
 
 I ask and are in an ancient 
 
 rden :r. rna. That ancient ell 
 
 O .So: that ye mi 
 
 summits I do ill 
 
 - 
 
 And last' .est 
 
 lin t? hill called 
 
 veen. It is so called from -.at 
 
 nam': is a great and 
 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 powerful man, and none others equal him save 
 only his two sons. So terrible are they that no 
 man dare venture into that wild place where 
 they live, save in amity. It was with them 
 that my father learned his great craft with the 
 sword ; and so great will their wrath be that 
 ye have slain him, that even were I to forgive 
 ye, they would not. Moreover, Mekween and 
 his sons are under geas not to allow a shout to 
 be shouted upon that hill. I do not think ye 
 will find it easy to pass the sons of Mekween, 
 nor to shout three shouts upon that hill." 
 
 With that, Lu the Ildanna bowed before the 
 king, and sat upon his golden chair again. 
 
 All men looked with sorrow upon the sons 
 of Turenn. Any of the seven geasan of 
 this eric that Lu put upon them was more 
 than enough for any hero : how then would 
 they survive till the last, or, having survived, 
 how would they bring back with them these 
 things, and how escape the wrath of Mekween 
 and his sons ? 
 
 Nevertheless, the sons of Turenn were now 
 under bond, and they had no choice but to do 
 what they could to fulfil their eric. 
 
 With sad hearts they left the great beauty 
 and wonder of Tara, and with sadder hearts 
 
 160 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 still reached their own land. Here with sorrow 
 they bade farewell to Turenn their father and 
 to dark-eyed Enya their sister, whom they 
 loved so passing well, and to all their kindred 
 and folk. Thereafter they set forth on their 
 long and ever more and more perilous quest. 
 
 It would have been easy for the sons of 
 Turenn to have passed over into Alba, and 
 sought service with the king of that country ; 
 or to have gone among the Kymri in the in- 
 land highlands beyond the isle where Manan- 
 nan had his home : or southward to Lyonesse 
 or into Armorica. But honour is a better 
 thing than ease, and it would ill have befit 
 heroes such as Brian and Ur and Urba to 
 have evaded their solemn troth. A bitter 
 wrong they had done, because of the heredi- 
 tary feud betwixt the clans of Turenn and 
 Kian : but now there was one thing only to 
 do, and that to fulfil the eric put upon them 
 by Lu, son of Kian. Moreover, Nuadh the 
 Ardree and Bove Derg, son of the Dagda, 
 and a score of the noblest lords in Erin 
 were their warranty that they would do this 
 thing. 
 
 So, one day of the days, they set forth from 
 Erin : and sad indeed were they when across 
 
 l.p. 161 L 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 the foam they took their last look at Dun 
 Turenn and at the clear familiar hill of Ben 
 Edar. 
 
 For that night Peterkin heard no more 
 of the story of the Fate of the Sons of 
 Turenn ; but all the next evening, and the 
 next again, he sat entranced by the strange 
 moving tale of how Brian and Ur and Urba 
 one by one fulfilled the hard and perilous 
 conditions of their eric, and this until the sixth 
 was done. 
 
 But here, now, this tale cannot be told in 
 full. To tell it aright would need a volume 
 not less than this is. 
 
 It must suffice that after innumerable hard- 
 ships, after fierce cold and fiercer heat, after 
 hunger and thirst and daily perils by land 
 or sea, and strange and frightful encounters, 
 and hazardous fights with monsters and wild 
 men and kings and princes, the sons of Turenn 
 found themselves sailing towards the remote 
 north of Lochlin, having accomplished the six 
 seeming impossible conditions. 
 
 That nigh-impossible task, indeed, had been 
 made possible by the magic boat of Manannan, 
 called the Sweeper of the Waves, which they 
 
 162 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 had won from Lu by unlooked-for wile. 
 For before they had left Tara they had 
 played a game of chess with Lu Ildanna, 
 well knowing that Lu was under geas never 
 to refuse to play at chess when asked by 
 any Dedannan, or to pay the hazard that 
 was decided upon, whatsoever it might be. 
 There was no player in all Erin to surpass 
 Ur, though few knew this, for he was little 
 given to talk, and still less of his own doings. 
 
 First Urba had offered to play with Lu, 
 and the hazard of that play was to be the 
 life of Lu Ildanna. " I will play that hazard," 
 he said, " if thou wilt pay the like penalty 
 if thou dost lose." But when Urba refused, 
 he could play no more, because he had 
 declined the counter-hazard. 
 
 Then Brian had offered to play, and the 
 hazard of that play was to be Daurya, the 
 beautiful daughter of a great lord, whom 
 Lu loved. " I will play that hazard," he 
 said, " if, in return, thou wilt pledge me 
 Enya of the Dark Eyes, thy sister." But 
 when Brian refused this hazard, he too could 
 play no more with Lu until Lu asked 
 him. 
 
 Then Ur played, and the hazard of that 
 
 163 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 play was the " Sweeper of the Waves," Man- 
 annan's magic boat. " I will play that hazard," 
 Lu said, "if in return thou wilt sail in 
 it, and affront Manannan to his face." To 
 that Ur agreed, and they played, and Ur 
 won. 
 
 This magic boat would sail swiftly and safely 
 in any sea whether calm or tempest-wrought, 
 and at a word would make for any coast 
 or haven ; more like a great bird it was, or 
 some creature of the air and sea. 
 
 " White shall be thy foamy track," cried 
 Lu as they sailed away; "but red every- 
 where shall be the wake behind ye." 
 
 And so it was. For death and the bitter- 
 ness of the sword were ever in their way 
 and in their wake. Nevertheless, they un- 
 ceasingly rejoiced in their possession of the 
 Sweeper of the Waves, and when their eric- 
 quest took them into far eastern lands beyond 
 the reach of great rivers, they hid their precious 
 vessel, or bade it lie till it heard their summon- 
 ing voice. 
 
 And so at the last it happened that the 
 sons of Turenn won the three golden apples 
 out of the guarded close in Isberna ; and by 
 craft and daring carried away from Sicily the 
 
 j 64 
 
THE SON.S OF TURENN 
 
 famous chariot and two steeds which had no 
 peer in all the world ; and from Asol of the 
 Golden Pillars, who gave them in ransom for 
 his life, they took the seven deathless swine ; 
 and from its cauldron in the heart of a 
 hostile city they snatched the terrible spear 
 of Pisarr ; and the far-famed skin of healing 
 they brought away from the palace of Toosh, 
 king of Greece, whose head they left idly 
 rolling upon his marble floor ; and in far 
 Irrua they put captivity upon the terrible 
 hound Falinnish ; and in the wild seas of 
 Fiancarya they dared the sea-women in their 
 caverns under the waves, and took from them 
 the roasting spit that Lu had demanded. 
 
 All this they did, and much else in the 
 doing of these wonders. And now nothing 
 remained but to shout three shouts upon the 
 hill of Mekween ; and to this end they sailed 
 blithely and swiftly towards the far north of 
 Lochlin. 
 
 But meanwhile, in far - away Erin, Lu 
 Ildanna became aware, by his subtle magic 
 and knowledge, that the sons of Turenn had 
 one by one accomplished all but the last of 
 the bitter tasks of the eric he had set upon 
 them. He had not deemed this fulfilment 
 
 165 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 possible, but while greatly he marvelled that 
 courage and endurance could so bring im- 
 possible things to pass, he dreaded lest the 
 sons of Turenn should prevail in the last task 
 also. For if they came back to Erin with 
 all that great eric fulfilled, then would there 
 be a blood-shedding terrible indeed. 
 
 Moreover, Lu Ildanna, who saw far ahead 
 of the things of the moment, was even now 
 preparing for that second great battle upon 
 the Plain of Moytura which he knew would 
 come again ; and a battle mightier and more 
 desperate than the last, or than ever was 
 seen in Erin before. Great warrior as he 
 was, and lordly as was the war-host of the 
 Dedannans, he feared this final battle unless 
 he had at least half of the eric he had set 
 upon the sons of Turenn — and, above all, the 
 Spear of Pisarr, the Skin of Healing, and the 
 War-chariot of the Sicilian king. Therefore 
 he longed for the return of his foes, the sons 
 of Turenn ; yet feared that they should come 
 back having accomplished all. 
 
 So on a day of the days he made a deep 
 and potent spell, and sent this spell forth 
 to work its noiseless and invisible way across 
 land and sea and under the flaming sun and 
 
 166 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 the white glister of the stars, till it should 
 find the Sweeper of the Waves. 
 
 So forth that subtle spell went, and when 
 it reached at last the Sweeper of the Waves 
 it crawled stealthily into the great boat, and 
 wound itself about the weary bodies of Brian 
 and Ur and Urba, and moved into their 
 brains, filled as they were with dreams of Erin 
 and of home. 
 
 The spell was the spell of oblivion, but they 
 knew it not. 
 
 And so it chanced that they could no longer 
 understand why it was they sailed northward, 
 nor had they any memory of the last obligation 
 of the eric, and thought neither of Mekween 
 and his sons, nor of the doom put upon 
 them by Lu, nor of the vanity of all their 
 long quest and brave endurance if they re- 
 turned with the eric unfulfilled in the least 
 part. 
 
 It was with joy that they set their prow 
 for green Erin ; and with joy that they saw 
 again its green grassy hills above its white 
 shores ; and with joy that they recognised 
 Ben Edar and Dun Turenn ; and with joy 
 that they kissed once more Turenn their father 
 and Enya of the Dark Eyes, their sister, and 
 
 167 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 knew themselves back at last from all their 
 weary wandering and endless peril and 
 strife. 
 
 Great was the marvelling at what they 
 brought back, and the oldest druids admitted 
 that never in the history of Erin had so great 
 a wonder been done. 
 
 Alas ! theirs was but a brief joy. 
 
 Lu Ildanna said nothing till he had put 
 away all the treasures of that eric. Then he 
 said gravely : 
 
 " All is accomplished save one thing. Have 
 ye shouted three shouts upon the hill of Mek- 
 ween r 
 
 And as he spoke he broke the spell, so 
 that suddenly Brian and Ur and Urba re- 
 membered, and with shame and grief had to 
 say that this last thing they had not done. 
 
 In vain did Turenn supplicate for his sons, 
 in vain even was the pleading of the king. 
 Lu had but one answer. " All else is as 
 nought if they have not done this thing — to 
 shout three shouts upon the hill of Mek- 
 
 ween." 
 
 So once more the sore-tried heroes set forth, 
 but with dim presentiments of woe ; for now 
 they had neither the Skin of Healing nor 
 
 1 68 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 the Sweeper of the Waves, for these had been 
 taken away by Lu, and he would not give 
 them again. 
 
 Nevertheless, they reached their goal. A 
 great and terrible fight was theirs with Mek- 
 ween and his sons Conn and Core and Ae — 
 the most terrible fight, the old bards say, which 
 was ever fought between six men — for at the 
 beginning the sons of Turenn slew Mekween. 
 
 At dusk on that disastrous day six gashed 
 and mutilated men lay in the swoon of death. 
 Out of that swoon, three men never waked, 
 and these were Conn and Core and Ae : and 
 two had not strength to move even when 
 they waked, and these were Ur and Urba ; 
 and Brian alone staggered to his feet, and 
 stared through a mist of blood. 
 
 When at last the eldest of the sons of 
 Turenn looked upon his brothers, and saw 
 their glassy eyes staring idly at the sunrise, he 
 feared that they too were dead. Then he saw 
 that the pulse of life still flickered. Weak as 
 he was, he took first Ur upon his shoulders, 
 and bore him up the rocky slope to the ridge 
 of the hill of Mekween ; and then returned 
 and bore Urba thither also. 
 
 Then it was that three thin, faint shouts 
 
 169 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 went forth upon the hill, so thin and faint that 
 the browsing stags on the uplands did not lift 
 their heads. 
 
 Thus was it that the Great Eric was fulfilled. 
 
 But, alas ! the piteous tale of their return. 
 None could tell aright that woe-stricken, death- 
 weary voyage of three dying men, upborne by 
 one hope only — that they might free their 
 name and clan from the eric put upon them, 
 and lay their accusing deaths at the feet of 
 Lu Ildanna. 
 
 Yet hardly might they do even this. For as 
 they drew nigh the coasts of Erin once more, 
 Ur and Urba spoke to Brian and supplicated 
 him to raise their heads, so that, before they 
 died, they might see again the green hills of 
 their beloved Banba, and high Ben Edar, and 
 their home Dun Turenn. 
 
 But to this Brian made answer : 
 
 " Dear brothers, too great is my weakness, 
 for I am now even as ye are. Lo ! through my 
 gaping wounds one of these birds that skim 
 above us might fly, and be not snared within 
 me. 
 
 After that, they spake no word till the galley 
 grided against the sands of Erin. 
 
 Soon all in Dun Turenn and in all the lands 
 
 170 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 of Edar knew that Brian, Ur, and Urba 
 were come again ; but sorrowful were they 
 indeed to see, instead of the three proud heroes, 
 only three wasted men like unto shadows. 
 Neither Ur nor Urba could speak, but Brian's 
 voice could rise to a thin whisper. 
 
 With halting breath he bade his father 
 hasten to Tara, and tell Lu Lamfada that 
 now all the eric was paid at last ; and then be- 
 seech him, by his honour and fair name, and 
 for the glory of the old Dedannan faith, and 
 by the invocation of the Sun and Moon and 
 Wind, to lend to the three perishing sons of 
 Turenn, the Skin of Healing, so that their 
 lives might not flicker out as the flame of spent 
 torches. 
 
 But, alas ! Lu would not yield to that prayer, 
 
 not even when the grey hairs of Turenn were 
 
 at his feet. Then once more Brian besought 
 
 his father ; and now it was that he bade his 
 
 father put him upon a litter, and bear him 
 
 gently, because of his open wounds, and lay 
 
 him at the feet of Lu. 
 
 And when he was there, Brian said this 
 thinor : 
 
 O 
 
 " Behold, O Lu Ildanna, son of Kian, we 
 have fulfilled the heaviest eric ever exacted of 
 
 171 
 
THE FATE OF 
 
 any man since the world was made. And now 
 we ask this one thing alone : one hour only of 
 the Healincr Skin that we ourselves brought 
 unto thee. Yet not for myself I ask this, if 
 thou desirest my life, since it was I who slew 
 thy father, but for my brothers Ur and Urba. 
 And if not for them— though they are guiltless 
 of this ill, and are with me in this dire plight 
 because they would not forsake me, but made 
 my fortune their fortune — then for the sake of 
 the old hero Turenn, who was comrade in 
 arms with thy father Kian when both were 
 youths. And by the Sun, and by the Moon, 
 and by the Wind, and by thine honour, I 
 cry to thee to be merciful, and to do this 
 thing." 
 
 But Lu smiled a bitter, evil smile. Half 
 that smile was from the cruel revengefulness in 
 his breast, and half because he feared that if 
 Brian and Ur and Urba lived, there would 
 be an end of the Dedannan race, for the 
 fierce internecine wars which would be in 
 Erin. 
 
 " I would not give thee the Skin, Brian, 
 though all thy race, nay, not though every man 
 and woman in the eastlands were to perish 
 with thee. Go hence, and in the shadow of 
 
 172 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 death remember the eric unto death of Lu the 
 Long- Handed." 
 
 So Brian went forth upon his litter, with 
 the death-sweat already upon him. 
 
 That night a long and bitter lamentation 
 went up from Dun Turenn, and the Beacons of 
 Death flared upon Ben Edar. For, at the 
 setting of the sun, Brian and Ur and Urba 
 breathed out their souls into the light, and 
 these moved swift to Flathinnis, the holy island 
 where are gathered all the souls of heroes. 
 
 Yet on their way to join the innumerous 
 deathless dead, they halted once, for they heard 
 a thin voice crying upon the wind. It was 
 the voice of Turenn their father. 
 
 In one great grave before the mighty dun, 
 the four were buried, erect, and sword in hand. 
 And on a slab midway in the vast cairn of 
 stones that was erected thereon, was writ in 
 branching Ogam the names and glory of 
 Turenn and his three sons. For three days 
 the people wept. Then, as the wont was, 
 Enya of the Dark Eyes decreed the funeral 
 games. 
 
 And so these heroes died, and with them 
 went the third part of the perishing glory of 
 the Tuatha-De-Danann. 
 
 173 
 
THE SONS OF TURENN 
 
 For in the end, that which is to be, is. There 
 is no gainsaying the slow, sure word of Fate. 
 And, too, there is this thing to be said. 
 The wind in the grass outlasts the branching 
 Ogam graven in granite, and the granite ceno- 
 taph itself, and the powdered dust of that 
 granite. 
 
 
 ^JOLi 
 
 174 
 
Darthool and the 
 Sons of Usna 
 
 /o 
 
" the story this 
 Of her, the morning star of loveliness, 
 Unhappy Helen of a western land." 
 
 " DcirdreP Trs. by Dr. Douglas Hyde. 
 
 170 
 
A great raven, glossy black, and burnished in the 
 sun rays. 
 
 r o r nce p. 177.] 
 
Darthool and the 
 Sons of Usna 
 
 THE story I will tell you now, Peterkin, is 
 more beautiful, though not so old. 
 
 In all the regions of the Gael throughout 
 Scotland, and in every isle, from Arran and 
 Islay in the south, to Iona in the west, and 
 Tiree in mid-sea, and the Outer Hebrides, 
 there is no story of the old far-off days so well 
 known as that of Darthool. 
 
 She it is who in Ireland is called Deirthre or 
 Deirdre ; and in Ireland to this day there is not 
 a cowherd who has not heard of Deirdre. 
 
 Her beauty filled the old world of the Gael 
 with a sweet, wonderful, and abiding rumour. 
 The name of Deirdre has been as a lamp to a 
 thousand poets. I n a land of heroes and brave 
 and beautiful women, how shall one name sur- 
 
 l.p. 177 M 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 vive ? Yet to this day and for ever, men will 
 remember Deirdre, the torch of men's thoughts, 
 and Grainne whom Diarmid loved and died 
 for, and Maev who ruled mightily, and Fand 
 whose white feet trod faery dew, and many 
 another. For beauty is the most excellent 
 sweet thing in all the world, and though of it a 
 few perish, and a myriad die from knowing 
 nothing of it, beneath it the nations of men 
 move forward as their one imperishable star. 
 Therefore he who adds to the beautv of the 
 world is of the sons of God. He who destroys 
 or debases beauty is of the darkness, and shall 
 have darkness for his reward. 
 
 The day will come, Peterkin, when you will 
 find a rare and haunting music in these names. 
 They will bring you a lost music, a lost world, 
 and imperishable beauty. You will dwell with 
 them, till you love Deirdre as did the sons of 
 Usna, and would die for her, or live to see her 
 starry eyes ; till you look longingly upon the 
 Grainne of your dreams, and cry as Diarmid 
 did, when he asked her, as death menaced 
 them, if even yet she would go back, and she 
 answered that she would not : " Then go for- 
 ward, O Grainne ! " 
 
 Many poets and shennachies have related 
 
 178 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 this tale. I have heard it given now this way, 
 and now that ; sometimes with new names and 
 scenes, sometimes with other beginnings and 
 endings ; but at heart it is ever the same. Nor 
 does it matter whether the father of Deirdre be 
 Felim, the warrior bard of the Ultonians, or 
 Malcolm the Harper, or any other, or whether 
 the fair and sweet beauty of the world be called 
 Deirdre or Darthool. But as here in our own 
 land she is called Darthool, that I will call her. 
 I will tell the story as it is told in the old 
 chronicles, and to this day, and if I add aught 
 to it, that shall only be what I myself heard 
 when I was young, and had from the lips of 
 an old woman, Barabal Mac-Aodh, who was 
 my nurse. She came out of Tiree or Coll, I 
 forget which. 
 
 Well, in the ancient dim days when E mania 
 was the capital of the Ultonians, the fair and 
 wonderful capital of the kingdom of Ulster, 
 and before Maev, the queen of the south, had 
 buried the chivalry of the north in dust and 
 blood, there came into the realm of Concobar 
 the Ultonian king, whom some call Conor and 
 some Connachar, three of the noblest and 
 fairest of the youths of the world. These are 
 
 1/9 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 they who then bore, and in all the years since 
 have borne, the name of the Sons of Usna, who 
 was himself, some say, a feudal king, in Alba. 1 
 
 It is because of these three heroes that this 
 story I am relating is often called the story 
 of the Sons of Usna. But first, I have that to 
 tell you which precedes the time when Nathos, 2 
 and Ailne, and Ardan, stood in the house of 
 Concobar the high king. 
 
 This Concobar was a great prince. He was 
 known as Concobar MacNessa, for though he 
 was the son of Fatna the Wise, son of Ross 
 the Red, son of Rory, Nessa his mother was a 
 famous queen, and had indeed by her beauty 
 and her wiles brought Concobar to the over- 
 lordship of Uladh 3 when he was yet a youth. 
 
 In many of the tales of the old far-off days, 
 you will hear the rumour of the splendour and 
 wonder of the city of Emania. In Concobar's 
 time it was called Emain Macha, for it had 
 been built by a great and beautiful queen — - 
 Macha Mongruay, Macha of the Ruddy Hair. 
 A thousand times have poets chanted of Emain 
 Macha, and in the ancient days the bards 
 
 1 Alba. That is, Gaelic Scotland, and in particular 
 Argyll. 
 
 2 Naois in the old Irish Gaelic. 3 Ulster. 
 
 iSo 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 loved to sincr also of Macha herself. Here is 
 an old far-off lay : 
 
 " 'tis a good house, and a palace fair, the dun of Macha, 
 And happy with a great household is Macha there ; 
 Druids she had, and bards, minstrels, harpers, knights, 
 Hosts of servants she had, and wonders beautiful and rare, 
 But nought so wonderful and sweet as her face, queenly 
 fair, 
 
 O Macha of the Ruddy Hair ! 
 
 The colour of her great dun is the shining whiteness of 
 
 lime, 
 And within it are floors strewn with green rushes and 
 
 couches white, 
 Soft wondrous silks and blue gold-claspt mantles and furs 
 Are there, and jewelled golden cups for revelry by night : 
 Thy grianan of gold and glass is filled with sunshine-light, 
 O Macha, queen by day, queen by night ! 
 
 Beyond the green portals, and the brown and red thatch of 
 
 wings 
 Striped orderly, the wings of innumerous stricken birds, 
 A wide shining floor reaches from wall to wall, wondrously 
 
 carven 
 Out of a sheet of silver, whereon are graven swords 
 Intricately ablaze ; mistress of many hoards 
 Art thou, Macha of few words ! 
 
 Fair indeed is thy couch, but fairer still is thy throne, 
 A chair it is, all of a blaze of wonderful yellow gold : 
 There thou sittest, and watchest the women going to and 
 
 fro, 
 Each in garments fair and with long locks twisted fold in 
 
 fold: 
 
 181 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 With the joy that is in thy house men would not grow old,. 
 O Macha, proud, austere, cold. 
 
 Of a surety there is much joy to be had of thee and thine,. 
 There in the song-sweet sunlit bowers in that place : 
 Wounded men might sink in sleep and be well content 
 So to sleep, and to dream perchance, and know no other 
 
 grace 
 Than to wake and look betimes on thy proud queenly face,. 
 O Macha of the Proud Face ! 
 
 And if there be any here who wish to know more of this 
 
 wonder, 
 Go, you will find all as I have shown, as I have said : 
 From beneath its portico thatched with wings of birds blue 
 
 and yellow 
 Reaches a green lawn, where a fount is fed 
 From crystal and gems : of crystal and gold each bed 
 
 In the house of Macha of the Ruddy Head. 
 
 In that great house where Macha the queen has her pleas- 
 
 aunce 
 There is everything in the whole world that a man might 
 
 desire. 
 God is my witness that if I say little it is for this, 
 That I am grown faint with wonder, and can no more 
 
 admire, 
 But say this only, that I live and die in the fire 
 
 Of thine eyes, O Macha, my desire, 
 With thine eyes of fire ! " 1 
 
 1 This song, adapted to Macha, is founded upon a portion 
 of the poem by Coel O'Neamhain, in honour of a beautiful 
 queen named Crede, as translated by Professor Sullivan, 
 and others. 
 
 1S2 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 It was in this wonderful forefront of Ulster 
 that Concobar reigned. The fame of Emain 
 Macha was throughout Gaeldom ; and there 
 was no man or woman who, as the days went 
 by, did not hear of the greatness of Concobar. 
 
 On a day of the days, the king went with 
 his chief lords on a visit to the dun of Felim, 
 a warrior and harper whom he loved. There 
 was to be great feasting, and all men were 
 glad. Felim himself rejoiced, though he would 
 fain have had the king come to him a few days 
 later, for his wife was heavy with child, and 
 looked for her hour that very day or the next. 
 
 In the midmost of the feast, Concobar saw 
 that Cathba, an aged Druid who had accom- 
 panied him, was staring into the other world 
 that is about us. 
 
 " Speak, Cathba," he said. " There is no 
 man in all Erin who has wisdom like unto 
 thine. What is it that thou seest, with the 
 inner sight that I perceive well is now upon 
 thee ? " 
 
 " Old as I am with the heavy burden of 
 years and sorrow, O Concobar, did I not beg 
 that I might come with thee to this festival at 
 the dun of Felim ? And that was not because 
 I wearied to hear strange harping and singing, 
 
 183 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 good and fine and better than our own as this 
 harping is here, in the house of Felim ; for I 
 am old and weary, and care more to listen to 
 the wind in the grass, or to the sighing upon 
 the hill, than to any music of war or love." 
 
 " Then what was it that was in thy mind, 
 Cathba?" 
 
 "This, O king. I saw a shadow arise when- 
 ever I thought of our Ultonian realm, and I 
 felt within me the burden of a new prophecy. 
 Nevertheless, I was moved by naught till I 
 entered the dun of Felim, and now I know." 
 
 " Speak," said the king ; while all there 
 listened with awe as well as eagerness, for 
 Cathba was the wisest of the Druids, and knew 
 many mysteries, and what he had foretold had 
 ever come to pass. Slowly, the white-haired 
 Druid looked around the faces of all seated 
 there. Then he looked at the kino;. Then he 
 looked at Felim. 
 
 " To thee, O Felim, shall be born this night 
 a sting, a sword, a battering-ram, and a flame." 
 
 Felim the Harper stared with intent gaze, 
 but said nothing. Of what avail to say aught 
 against the decrees of the gods ? 
 
 "This night shall that which I have said be 
 born unto thee, O Felim. The sting will sting 
 
 184 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 to madness him who is king of the Ultonians ; 
 the sword will sever from Uladh the chief of 
 her glories, the proud Red Branch for which 
 Concobar and all his chivalry shall perish ; the 
 ram shall batter down the proud splendour of 
 Emain Macha ; the flame shall pass from dun 
 to dun, from forest to forest, from hill to hill, 
 from the isles of Ara on the west to the shores 
 of the sea-stream of the Moyle on the north, 
 and to those of the sea of Manannan in the east." 
 
 Still Felim answered nothing. Then the 
 king spoke : 
 
 " Thy words come in dust, like wind-whirled 
 autumn leaves. We have not thy further sight, 
 Cathba, and understand thee not." 
 
 Then once more Cathba spake out of the 
 dream that was upon him : 
 
 " Two stars I see shining in a web of dusk ; 
 and, in the shadow of that dusk, a low tower of 
 ivory and white pearls I see, and a strange crim- 
 son fruit ; and through all and over all I hear the 
 low, sweet vibration of the strings of a harp, a 
 harp such as the Dedannan folk play upon in 
 the moonshine in lonely places, but sweeter 
 still, sweeter and more wonderful." 
 
 " Is this thy second vision one and the same 
 with thy first, O Cathba ? " asked the king. 
 
 185 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 " Even so. For the shining stars are her 
 eyes, and the web of dusk is the flower- 
 fragrant maze of her hair, that low tower of 
 ivory is her fair, white, wonderful neck, and her 
 white teeth are these pearls, and that strange 
 crimson fruit is no other than her smilino- 
 mouth — a little smiling mouth with life and 
 death upon it because of its laughter and grave 
 stillness. As for that harp-playing, it is her 
 voice I hear — a voice more soft and sweet and 
 tender than the love-music of Angus Ogue 
 himself. O shining eyes, O strange crimson 
 fruit that is a little smiling mouth, O sweet 
 voice that is more excellent to hear than the 
 wild music of the Hidden People of the hills — 
 it is of ye, of ye that I speak, and of thee, 
 O tender, delicate fawn, in all thv loveli- 
 ness." 
 
 None spake, but all stared at the Druid. 
 For dream was upon them at these words, and 
 each man imagined his desire, and was wrought 
 by it, and was rapt in strange longing. 
 
 It was Concobar who broke the silence. 
 
 " Of whomsoever thou speakest, Cathba, she 
 is surely of the divine folk. That exceeding 
 loveliness is for the joy or the sorrow of the 
 world." 
 
 1 86 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 Only Felim the Harper was troubled, for 
 now he knew well that the ancient Druid 
 spoke of the unborn child with whom even 
 then his wife was in travail. But no sooner 
 had Concobar ceased than Cathba rose, with 
 his great dark eyes aflame beneath his white 
 eye-brows. His voice was loud and ter- 
 rible. 
 
 " Behold, I see this thing ; behold the vision 
 of Cathba the Druid, who is old and nio-h unto 
 death. And what is before mine eyes is a 
 sea, a sea of flowing crimson, a sea of blood. 
 Foaming it rises, and wells forth, and over- 
 flows, and drowns great straths and valleys, and 
 laves the flanks of high hills, and from the 
 summits of mountains pours down upon the 
 lands of the Gael in a thundering flood, blood- 
 red to the blood-red sea." 
 
 But now the spell of silence was broken. 
 All leaped to their feet, and many put their 
 hands upon their swords. There was not one 
 who did not fear the prophesying of Cathba 
 the wise Druid. That deluge of blood, was it 
 not a terror, a great ruin to avert ? 
 
 "If this child that the wife of Felim the 
 Harper is to bear this night be a blood-bringer 
 so terrible," they cried, " let us slay her at 
 
 187 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 birth. For surely it is better to kill a child 
 than to destroy a nation." 
 
 So spake they out of their ignorance that 
 they thought wisdom. For they did not know- 
 that there is no thought, no power, no spell, no 
 craft, wherewith to turn aside the feet of Des- 
 tiny. What has to be, will be, and no man 
 living can say or do aught that is of avail 
 against the inevitable tides of Fate. 
 
 For the first time since Cathba had prophe- 
 sied, Felim uttered word. 
 
 " Listen, my kinsmen and fellow-knights of 
 the Red Branch. A sore pity is it for my wife 
 Elva to bear a daughter that shall be a sting 
 to sting the king to madness, and a sword to 
 sever the Red Branch from Uladh, our fair 
 heritage, and a ram to break down the walls 
 of Emania, and a flame to consume the land 
 from shore to shore. And as for that sea of 
 blood, let it not be upon my head. For I, the 
 father of the child of Elva, that Cathba says is 
 to be a woman-child and of a beauty wonderful 
 to see, say unto ye : That which ye would fain 
 do, do. If it seems good unto ye, O Conco- 
 bar, and ye of the Red Branch, let this child 
 perish, so that the doom foretold by Cathba 
 may be averted." 
 
 188 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 At that all were glad save Concobar. Two 
 men was he, this king : a man who recked 
 little of aught save his desire, and a'man who 
 had wisdom. Out of his wisdom he knew that 
 Felim and the Red Branch lords spoke mad- 
 ness, for if it was ordained that the child of 
 Elva should bring doom, that doom would 
 surely come. Out of his longing he loved the 
 beauty of which Cathba had spoken, and de- 
 sired it against the years to come, and for the 
 solace of his years when he had loved much 
 and at the last was fain only of that which was 
 the crown of life. So he spoke to those before 
 him, and prevailed with them. Not vainly was 
 he called Concobar of the Honey mouth. 
 
 " I will speak first to thee, Felim, son of 
 Dall, my bard. It is not good to put death 
 upon the fruit of one's loins. Thine own child 
 should not see death through thee. But even 
 were it so, it is not meet for me or for any one 
 to bring the shame and pain of death to the 
 house of a friend. Therefore, do not speak of 
 putting silence and darkness upon the child of 
 Elva." 
 
 Having spoken thus, the king turned to the 
 lords of the Red Branch. As the wont was, 
 at the royal festivals there were five and three 
 
 189 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 score over three hundred of the Red Branch 
 there and then. 1 
 
 " And to ye, Ultonians, I say this thing also. 
 Do not bring blood into the hospitable home 
 of Felim ; that would be a stain upon him, 
 upon ye yourselves, and upon me the king. 
 But this is my counsel. Let the child live. 
 There is no good in idle blood, and if ye stain 
 yourselves with it, there shall be greater loss 
 and sorrow to follow. Ye are all grown men, 
 and not boys who do not know our laws. Ye 
 know the Law of the Eric. Well, I will free ye 
 of all doom, for upon my head be it. To my- 
 self I will take this fair child, and upon me, and 
 not upon the Ultonians, nor upon the Red 
 Branch, nor upon any other whomsoever save 
 Concobar MacNessa, the high king, be the 
 penalty, if penalty there be." 
 
 At that a son of a king arose. 
 
 "That is well, O Concobar. But what of 
 Cathba's prophecy ? We do not wish to see 
 
 1 Given as in the Gaelic : ciugear agi/s tri ' fickead agus tri 
 chead. Large numbers are in Gaelic invariably built up 
 thus (instead of, for example, as here, four hundred and 
 sixty). In an old Irish-Gaelic version the particular num- 
 ber here is given as " five and three score above six hun- 
 dred and one thousand" (i.e., 1,76c). 
 
 190 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 the sting that shall sting thee to madness, and 
 if the child live shall we not see that sting ? ' 
 
 "Of that I have thought, that I have fore- 
 seen, Congal, son of Rossa of the Lakes. For 
 I shall send the child into a lonely place, and 
 there in a solitary rath shall she dwell and 
 grow in years, and no man shall look upon her 
 save I myself, and that only in the fulness of 
 time. She shall be solitary and apart as the 
 Crane of Innisbea, that has dwelt upon its isle 
 since the world was made, and is seen of none." 
 
 " Tell us once more, Concobar MacNessa ; 
 dost thou take this child, and the doom of this 
 child unto thee, and to thee alone ? " 
 
 " I have sworn. She shall grow in years, 
 and be wife to me when the time is come. 
 And if sorrow come with her, that sorrow shall 
 be my sorrow. Not upon Uladh be it, but 
 upon me. I have spoken." 
 
 " And as for thee, Felim ? " 
 
 "It would be better to slay the child than to 
 drown the land in blood." 
 
 " And as for thee, Cathba ? " 
 
 "There is but one law: that which has to 
 come, cometh." But while they were thus 
 debating, the loud chanting voices of women 
 were heard, and soon a messenger came, cry- 
 
 191 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 ing loudly that a child had been born to Elva, 
 wife of Felim, and that it was a woman-child, and 
 exceeding comely, and strong, and white as milk. 
 Once more Cathba the Druid spoke. 
 " She shall be called Darthool, 1 this woman 
 whose beauty shall be a flame, and whose eyes 
 shall be as stars." 
 
 And so it was. The child was spared, and 
 that night Elva slept in peace, and for many 
 nights. 
 
 When the days of the feasting were over, 
 Concobar left the dun of Felim, and returned 
 with all his company to Emania. With him 
 he took the little child Darthool, and Elva 
 came with him for a month and a day. 
 
 The month and the day soon passed, and 
 then Elva went back to her own place. It was 
 the will of the high king and of Felim, her 
 husband ; nevertheless, she sorrowed to part 
 with her little child, who, even as a breast- 
 babe, had eyes of so great a beauty that it was 
 a joy to look into them. 
 
 1 In old Irish Gaelic, Derdriu, then Deirdre, some- 
 times Darcthra. In Scotland, Dearduil (pronounced Dart'- 
 weel, Darth-uil, or " Darthool," whence Macpherson's 
 " Darthula," who rather loosely says the name is Darfhuilc, 
 a woman of beautiful eyes). The oldest name is said to 
 signify alarm. 
 
 192 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 Before the year was over — for, according to 
 what Cathba the wise Druid said, the child 
 must either be slain or hidden away before the 
 first year of her life were past — Concobar sent 
 Darthool with the nursing woman to whom he 
 entrusted her, to a small lios, or fort, deep 
 in the heart of the royal forest. A ban 
 was upon that forest that none might hunt or 
 even stray there without the king's will ; and 
 now that ban was made absolute, and it was 
 known that death would be the portion of any 
 man who went under these branches. None 
 was to enter that woodland save Concobar, or 
 whosoever might be of his chosen company, 
 or whom the king might thither lead. 
 
 Concobar himself saw that food and milk was 
 sent in plenty to the lios, and once in every 
 seven days he went thither himself. As year 
 after year passed the secret of the hiding-place 
 of Darthool went out of men's minds, and none 
 knew of the lios save the king, and the sister 
 of the nursing woman, who was his own foster- 
 child and under geas or bond to him. This 
 woman was named Lavarcam {Leabharchani), 
 and was fair to see, and whom Concobar held 
 to be discreet and trustworthy beyond any 
 other of his own people. She was of the royal 
 
 l.p. 193 x 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 household, and of the women trained as chroni- 
 clers and relaters. 1 
 
 The little starry-eyed babe grew to a child, 
 and from a child to a fawn of a girl, fair to see, 
 and from a young girl to a maid, of a beauty so 
 great that Concobar knew when she came to 
 full womanhood she would be indeed as Cathba 
 the Druid had prophesied. 
 
 Darthool saw no one but her nurse, and 
 the tutor whom the king had sent to teach 
 her all that could be taught, and not only in 
 learning, but in courtesy and nobility ; and 
 Lavarcam, who alone went to and fro. From 
 the time that Darthool passed out of her first 
 girlhood the king saw little of her, but twice 
 in each year — at the Festival of the Sun in 
 the time of the greening, and at the Festival 
 of end Summer at the fall of the leaf; and this 
 because of a warning that had been given 
 him by Cathba the ancient Druid. 
 
 How can the beauty of so fair and sweet a 
 woman be revealed ? Her loveliness was even 
 as Cathba had foretold. It was a surpassing 
 
 1 The Gaelic original is Beanchaointeach {Banchainte) 
 Conchubhar fein, etc., and means literally Concobar's Con- 
 versation-woman, which perhaps might be rendered as 
 " gossip." 
 
 194 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 loveliness, and the three women who saw her 
 often marvelled at it, and wondered no more 
 that Darthool should be kept apart, for of a 
 surety she would be a torch to put flame into 
 the hearts of men, and to set great duns and 
 raths and towered capitals and warring nations 
 ablaze. The poets have sung of her, and no 
 man has sung but out of his deep desire. Her 
 great sad eyes, so full of dream, were blue as 
 are the hill-tarns at noon, and often dusky as 
 they when passing clouds put purple into their 
 depths ; and like a golden web her hair was, 
 sprayed out with shining light, wonderful, 
 glorious ; and her rowan-red lips were indeed 
 that strange crimson fruit which Cathba had 
 foreseen — rowan-red against the cream-white 
 softness of her skin. Cream-white her bocly 
 was, and her neck like a tower of ivory ; slim 
 and graceful was she as a fawn, and fleet of foot 
 as the wild roes on the hills, and when she 
 moved in the sunlight or the shadow she was 
 so beautiful that tears came at times to the eyes 
 of the women in that lonely place. Yet even 
 more wonderful was her voice — low and sweet 
 and with music in it, like the whisper of the 
 wind among the reeds, or the ripple of green 
 leaves, or the murmuring of a brook. 
 
 195 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 But now and from this time forth Concobar 
 did not see her. For a year and a day after 
 she attained womanhood, Cathba had warned 
 the king it would mean death to him if he saw 
 her. Nevertheless, he often heard of Darthool 
 from Lavarcam, who in her going to and fro 
 had ever one thing to say — that never had 
 there been any woman so beautiful. 
 
 The rumour of this great loveliness spread 
 from lip to lip. Yet no man ventured to 
 seek out the hidden place where Darthool 
 dwelled, for to all it was known that Concobar 
 kept her there against the time when he would 
 make her his queen, and all feared the long 
 arm and the heavy hand of Concobar Mac 
 Nessa. None might even question the king. 
 
 It was in this year that the shadows of the 
 feet of Fate came into that place. 
 
 One day when Lavarcam told the king that 
 Darthool grew fairer and fairer, so that even 
 the wild creatures of the forest rejoiced in her, 
 he all but yielded to his desire. Nevertheless, 
 fearing the prophetic voice, he refrained, but 
 cried : " When the snow time has passed, and 
 the first greening is over, and the wild rose 
 runs like a flame throughout the land, then will 
 I go to Darthool." 
 
 196 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 But before the greening was lost in the tides 
 of summer, and before the wild rose had begun 
 to run like a windy flame throughout the land, 
 Concobar had learned that Destiny waits on no 
 man. 
 
 One dawn the first snows came over the hills 
 of the north and fell upon the forest. At the 
 rising of the sun they ceased, but every branch 
 was a white plume, and every glade was 
 smooth and white as was the breast of Dar- 
 thool herself. There was no wind in the deep 
 blue sky, but the air was sharp and sweet 
 because of the frost. For joy Darthool 
 clapped her hands, as she stood upon the wall 
 of the lios. 
 
 Then, glancing downward, she beheld the 
 woman who was her attendant standing beside 
 a calf that had been slain for the provisioning 
 of those within the fort. The red blood 
 streamed over the snow, and was as the crimson 
 cloak of an Ultonian chief there, till the red 
 grew mottled as it sank through the frozen 
 whiteness. 
 
 Darthool's eyes ever saddened at the sight 
 of blood, but after a brief while she knew that 
 there was no harm in that shedding, and that 
 no omen of further bloodspilling lay therein. 
 
 197 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 While she was still looking thereon, a great 
 raven, glossy black and burnished in the sun 
 rays, came gliding swift across the snow, and 
 alit by the slain calf, and drank of the warm 
 bright blood. 
 
 Of a sudden Darthool laughed low. It was 
 a sweet shy laugh, and Lavarcam, who had 
 come to her side, asked her why there was 
 such sweet low laughter upon her. Mayhap 
 she knew ; mayhap she guessed that Darthool 
 dreamed dreams of love, because her woman- 
 hood was now come, and because of the old 
 heroic tales she took so great a pleasure in, and 
 because of the vision that every woman has in 
 her heart. 
 
 " I was thinking, Lavarcam," she said. 
 
 " And what was that thought, Darthool ?" 
 
 "It was this : that if there be anywhere a 
 youth whose skin is white as that whiteness 
 there, and whose locks are as dark and glossy 
 as the plumage of that raven, and in whose 
 cheek is a crimson as red as that blood that is 
 upon the snow, then of a surety him could I 
 love, and that gladly." 
 
 For a moment Lavarcam said nought ; then 
 the power of Destiny moved her. 
 
 "There is one man who is more beautiful 
 
 198 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 than all others I have ever seen. He is young, 
 and his hair is dark and glossy as that raven's 
 wing, and in his cheek the ruddy flame is as 
 that crimson blood, and his skin is as white as 
 any sunlit whiteness, or as thine own breast, 
 Darthool." 
 
 "And what will be the name of that man, 
 Lavarcam, and whence is he and where, and 
 what is his decree ? " 
 
 " He is called Nathos, and is the son of 
 Usna, who is a great lord in Alba. But he is 
 now in Emania, among the company of the 
 king ; and with him are his brothers, both fair 
 to see, and princes among men because of their 
 beauty and valour, yet neither so surpassing all 
 men as Nathos. They are called Ailne and 
 Ardan." 1 
 
 That was a fatal saying of Lavarcam, for it 
 sank into the mind of Darthool as moonlight 
 into dark water. 
 
 Day by day thereafter she thought of no- 
 thing but of meeting this proud son of beauty ; 
 
 1 I have adopted here, as more euphonious, the name 
 given to the eldest of the sons of Usna (Uisneach) by Mac- 
 pherson in " Darthula." The old spelling is Naoise. 
 Ainnle (Ailne, Ailthos) means "beautiful," and Ardan, 
 " pride." 
 
 199 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 night by night she dreamed of Nathos and of 
 his love. 
 
 At the last, Lavarcam was filled with fear, 
 for she saw that her words had awakened the 
 flam in Qf lion that lies hid in the heart. And 
 truly it was not long till Darthool spoke to 
 her of her longing and deep desire, and how 
 that without Nathos she did not care to 
 live. 
 
 For a time Lavarcam smiled ; but when she 
 saw that the king's beautiful ward was ever 
 growing more and more wrought, her heart 
 smote her. 
 
 One day, as she was returning from Emain 
 Macha, she met a swineherd, clad roughly in 
 the fell of a deer, and with him were two men, 
 rude, dishevelled hillmen, bondagers to the 
 Ultonians. 
 
 These, notwithstanding the law of Concobar, 
 she took with her into the forest, and bade 
 them await at a well that was there, until they 
 heard the cry of a jay and the bark of a hill- 
 fox, when they were to move slowly on their 
 way, but to speak to no one whom they might 
 meet, and above all to be silent after they left 
 the shadow of the wood. 
 
 Having done this, she entered the lios, and 
 
 200 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 asked Darthool to come forth with her into the 
 woods. 
 
 When they drew near to the well, Lavarcam 
 moved aside to look for some rare herb, as she 
 said. Soon the cry of the jay and the bark of 
 the hill-fox were in the air. 
 
 " That is a strange thing," Darthool said to 
 her, when she was by her side again ; "for that 
 cry of the jay was the cry it gives in April, at 
 the nesting time, and the bark of that hill-fox 
 was the bark it gives in the season of the rut, 
 many months agone." 
 
 "Hush," said Lavarcam, "and look." 
 
 They stood still, as they saw the swineherd 
 and the two hillmen rise from near the well, 
 and move slowly across the glade. 
 
 " Who are these, Lavarcam ? " asked Dar- 
 thool, with wonder in her eyes. 
 
 " These are men, daughter of Felim." 
 
 "They are younger than those I have seen 
 from the outskirts of the forest, but they are 
 wild in dress and mien, and are not of high 
 degree, and my eyes have no pleasure in look- 
 ing upon them." 
 
 " Nevertheless," answered Lavarcam, " these 
 are the three sons of Usna — Nathos and Ailne 
 and Ardan." 
 
 201 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 For a brief while Darthool looked upon 
 them. Then she spoke. 
 
 " The truth flew past thy lips, Lavarcam. 
 Yonder man whom ye name Nathos has 
 neither raven hair nor white skin, nor the 
 comely red in his face ; and the two others are 
 like the slaves I saw that day I beheld the 
 foster-brothers of Concobar driving back from 
 battle, in a chariot dragged by wild rough men 
 in bondage. I remember the day, for it was 
 then that thou bade me know that death was the 
 portion of any man who sought me. That, too, 
 I fear was no true word. Howsoever, as to 
 these men, they may go. And yet wait." 
 
 And with that Darthool moved swiftly for- 
 ward, and, coming upon the three men by a 
 by-path through the fern, confronted them. 
 
 They stood amazed at her exceeding great 
 beauty. Nothing like it was in the whole 
 world ; so, little wonder that these boors stood 
 as though the face of death was bare to them ; 
 for beauty is strange and terrible to most 
 men, and they are prone to stand in dread 
 of it. 
 
 None spake. Darthool looked at each, a 
 slow smile of mocking in her lips, a blue flame 
 of scorn in her eyes. 
 
 202 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 " Are ye the sons of Usna ? " 
 
 They made no answer, but stared unwaver- 
 ingly upon her, as do the dull cattle in the 
 fields. 
 
 "What brave courtesy!" she cried, mocking 
 with her sweet voice, " how swift in courtesy ! 
 Tell me, Nathos, son of Usna, is it the wont of 
 thy people in Alba to stand by agape when a 
 woman speaks ? Who is Usna, or what ? If 
 he is a king, is he overlord of swineherds ? If 
 it is a place, is it the rough bogs of the hills 
 where sword-clad men do not go, but only a 
 poor folk clad rudely in skins ? " 
 
 Still they answered nothing. 
 
 " Were ye whipt into silence when ye were 
 young, ye that stand there wordless as dogs ? 
 If indeed ye be the sons of Usna, then truly 
 Concobar MacNessa must be in sore want of 
 men at Emain Macha ! " 
 
 At that the swineherd could no longer hold 
 to his bond. 
 
 " By thy great exceeding beauty I know that 
 thou art no other than Darthool, whom the 
 king hides in this place. But do not mock us, 
 who would rather worship thee. We are no 
 nobles, but a swineherd, and two hillmen who 
 are bondagers to Cairbre of the Three Duns." 
 
 203 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 At that Darthool laughed gently. 
 
 " That I knew full well, swineherd, for all 
 that I dwell here apart and see none of my 
 kind, save Maev my nurse and Aeifa my tutor 
 and Lavarcam the friend of the king. Those 
 I have seen otherwise have been beheld a great 
 way off, from where I laid hid in the woods. 
 But now, wilt thou do one thing for me ? ' 
 
 " I will give thee my life." 
 
 Darthool smiled into the man's eyes, and 
 what was only the swineherd died, and a strong 
 heroic soul arose in him. 
 
 " I would fain see Nathos, the eldest of the 
 sons of Usna." 
 
 " That is against the law of Concobar : and 
 long is the arm and heavy the hand of Con- 
 cobar MacNessa the high king. But what 
 is death to me, since thou wiliest me to do this 
 thing for thee, Darthool of the beautiful eyes ? 
 Nay, I swear this thing : that rather would I 
 die by torture, and please thee, than live out 
 my life and refuse thee of what thou art fain. 
 For thy beauty is upon me like the light of the 
 moon at the full on the dark moorland. I am 
 thine." 
 
 Darthool looked at the man. Suddenly she 
 stooped and kissed him on the wind-furrowed 
 
 204 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 brow. Great fortune was his, and he was well 
 repaid for his death by blunt spear-shafts, when 
 Concobar knew all. For what is death, when 
 a man has reached beyond the limit of his 
 desire ? 
 
 "Then go this night to Nathos, and tell him 
 that I, Darthool, dream of him by day and by 
 night, and that if he is in anywise fain of me, 
 let him come to me to-morrow, an hour before 
 the setting of the sun, at this well." 
 
 With that she turned and walked slowly 
 back to where Lavarcam awaited her. As they 
 moved homeward through the wood, Lavarcam 
 saw that the dream in the eyes of Darthool had 
 deepened. It was in vain then, or later, that 
 she sought to know what the fair, beautiful girl 
 had said to the swineherd. She feared, how- 
 ever, that Darthool no longer trusted her 
 because of the lie that she had told, and that 
 mayhap the girl had plotted somewhat with 
 the swineherd. 
 
 All the morrow Lavarcam watched Darthool 
 closely, but she seemed rapt in vision, and 
 cared neither to chase the fawns, nor to fish, 
 nor even to wander idly through the woods. 
 No speech would she have with any one, and 
 said only that she wished to lie under the 
 
 205 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 boughs of the great oak in front of the lios, and 
 sleep. 
 
 " How can that be, when there is snow upon 
 the ground ? " Lavarcam asked. 
 
 " Is there snow upon the ground ?" answered 
 Darthool dreamily. " Then I will lie upon my 
 deerskins, and Aeifa can play to me and sing 
 me songs till dusk." 
 
 Hearing that, Lavarcam was glad, for now 
 she could leave the lios with a mind at rest. 
 
 So, in the wane of the day, she passed 
 through the forest and came out upon the great 
 plain in front of Emain Macha, and went to 
 seek the king to take counsel with him. 
 
 Nevertheless, Lavarcam was sore wrought 
 by Darthool, and would fain have given her 
 her heart's desire. Piteous indeed had her 
 plaints been. With tears and reproaches and 
 sweet beseechings nigh intolerable, Darthool 
 had begged her to bring Nathos to her, if for 
 once only, so that she might at least see him, 
 and know what her heart's desire was like. 
 Moreover, was it not a bitter thing for her to 
 be kept there in that lonely place, and neither 
 to see nor converse with her own kind, and to 
 be kept away from all the joys of youth, and to 
 pass from spring to summer, and from summer 
 
 206 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 to autumn, and from autumn to winter, yea and 
 from year to year, and be exiled there, to hear 
 no young voices, no young laughter ? When 
 she pleaded thus, Lavarcam was sorrowful 
 indeed, for she had the heart of a woman, and 
 knew the beauty and the wonder and the 
 mystery of love. 
 
 Thinking of these things, her heart smote her 
 as she fared towards Emain Macha, and at the 
 last she decided to say no word to the king as 
 to what she feared Darthool may have told the 
 swineherd. Furthermore, she muttered, what 
 was death to her who had known all that life 
 had to give her ? At the worst, Concobar 
 could put death upon her. Had she not lived 
 and known love, and now was weary ? 
 
 When she drew ni^h to Emain Macha she 
 saw three ravens and three hoodie-crows and 
 three kites arise from some carrion hidden in 
 the long grass that waved there. 
 
 When she came upon it, she saw that it was 
 the body of the swineherd, loose with the 
 gaping wounds of blunt spear-shafts. In thus- 
 wise she knew that Concobar had in some way 
 heard of what the man had done. 
 
 Yet she had no fear from that. The swine- 
 herd was still now. Neither king nor raven, 
 
 207 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 neither man nor hoodie-crow, neither spear- 
 shaft nor kite could now hurt him. It was 
 better to be alive than to be dead, but it was 
 well to be dead. 
 
 So Lavarcam turned, and went over to the 
 camp in Emain Macha where the sons of 
 Usna were. There she saw Nathos, and 
 told him privily that Darthool longed to see 
 him, and that the forest was open to the 
 stealthy flight of the owl as well as to the 
 soaring hawk. 
 
 Nathos was indeed fair to see, and looking 
 upon him Lavarcam knew in her heart that 
 Darthool would love him, and he her. He 
 listened, and she saw his eyes deepen, and 
 a flush come and go upon his face. For 
 sure there was a beating swift of his pulse in 
 that hour. 
 
 Nevertheless, he could not come straightway, 
 for Concobar knew that the swineherd had 
 spoken to him of Darthool, and it was for this, 
 and having seen and spoken with the girl, that 
 the king had put the man to death — though for 
 that, added Nathos, little did the swineherd 
 care, for he died laughing and mocking, and, 
 when he lay still, there was a smile upon his 
 
 face. 
 
 208 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 " And that was because Darthool had looked 
 into his eyes, Nathos, son of Usna." 
 
 " Truly, he died well. I know a prince 
 among men who also would die gladly if Dar- 
 thool would look into his eyes with love." 
 
 "Then come soon and hunt the deer in the 
 solitudes to the north of the forest : and there, 
 amid the woods, or in some glen, or on the 
 hill-slopes, surely thou shalt meet with Darthool 
 — and yet none know of it." 
 
 So Lavarcam and Nathos made a bond 
 between them, and parted. 
 
 Thereafter days passed. On the morrow 
 of the seventh day Darthool was wandering 
 among the glades and thickets of the uplands 
 far away from the lios, rejoicing in her new 
 freedom and hoping that one day her eyes 
 might look upon Nathos. She was dreaming 
 her dream, when she started at a strange sound, 
 the like of which she had never heard. 
 
 That far-off baying of hounds she knew, for 
 oftentimes of old Concobar had ridden to the 
 forest with his deerhounds : but that strange, 
 
 wild, blazoning sound Was it the 
 
 voice of the flying creature the hounds pursued ? 
 
 Then the thought came to her that it was 
 the hunting horn she had often heard of in the 
 
 L.P. 209 O 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 songs and war-ballads which Lavarcam and 
 Aeifa were wont to sing to her. 
 
 But after that blast the horn no more tore 
 the silence of the deep woods, and the hounds 
 were still : for Nathos had left the chase of the 
 deer and was now moving listless through the 
 green glooms of the forest. Night and day 
 since Lavarcam and the swineherd had told him 
 of Darthool he had dreamed of the beautiful 
 daughter of Felim the Harper. Remembering 
 the last chant of Cathba the Druid, he recalled 
 how Darthool had been named the Beauty of 
 the World, and because he was himself a poet 
 and a dreamer the vision had become part of 
 his life, so that neither by night nor by day was 
 there any hour wherein he did not see in his 
 mind the tall, white- robed figure of Darthool, 
 and the beauty of her eyes, and her face as the 
 sweet wild face of a dream. 
 
 And so dreaming he stood at the edge of a 
 glade, his swift eyes watching a fawn dispart a 
 thicket that was close by. Yet it was no fawn 
 as he thought : but rather was it as though a 
 sudden flood of sunshine burst forth in that 
 place. For a woman came from the thicket more 
 beautiful than any dream he had ever dreamed. 
 She was clad in a saffron robe over white that 
 
 210 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 was like the shining: of the sun on foam of the 
 sea, and this was claspt with great bands of 
 yellow gold, and over her shoulders was the 
 golden rippling flood of her hair, the sprays of 
 which lightened into delicate fire, and made a 
 mist before him, in the which he could see 
 her eyes like two blue pools wherein purple 
 shadows dreamed. 
 
 So exceeding great was her beauty that 
 Nathos did not think of her as Darthool or as 
 any mortal woman, but rather as a daughter 
 of the elder gods, or of that bright divine race 
 of the Tuatha-De-Danann, whose beauty sur- 
 passed that of human beings as the beauty of 
 the primrose bank that of the brown sod. He 
 looked upon her amazed, and in a silent wor- 
 ship. If she were indeed of the Dedannan 
 folk, she might disappear at any moment as a 
 shadow goes, that now is here asleep upon the 
 grass and in the twinkling of an eye is among 
 the things of oblivion. 
 
 At last speech rose to his lips. 
 
 " O fair and wonderful one, whom I see well 
 art of the old sacred race of the Tuatha-De- 
 Danann, may I have word with thee? It may 
 well be that thou art no other than the wife of 
 Midir himself, she who lives in a fair shining 
 
 211 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 grianan in the hollow of a hill, and lives upon 
 the beauty and fragrance of flowers." Dar- 
 thool looked at him, and her heart beat. He 
 was in truth fair to see : fairer even than him 
 whom she had imaged in her dreams, or him of 
 whom Lavarcam had spoken. 
 
 " Speak. What wouldst thou ? " 
 
 " I am faring idly through this lonely land, 
 and I know not where I am. Yonder, in the 
 valley behind the oak-glade, is a high-walled 
 rath. Is it a place of the Shee, and so for- 
 bidden ? or who dwells there, and shall a spear 
 or welcome greet me if I enter ? " 
 
 " Indeed, thou mayst enter there, and a 
 welcome awaits thee, O Nathos, son of Usna." 
 
 " Thou knowest my name, O fair one ; then, 
 indeed, thou art of the old wondrous race, who 
 know swifter than our thought, and whose 
 sight is further and deeper than our sight." 
 
 " I am no queen, Nathos, nor am I of the 
 Tuatha-De-Danann, but am a woman as other 
 women are. If I am beautiful in thine eyes, of 
 that I am right glad, for thou art fairer to me 
 than any man I have seen or dreamed of, and 
 my pulse leaps when thine eyes look into mine. 
 I am Darthool, the daughter of Felim the 
 Harper ; yet am I no better than a slave, for 
 
 212 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 here am I bound to stay, and see no one save 
 Lavarcam and my two women, and here I shall 
 die for loneliness and lonsfincf." 
 
 Nathos heard her sweet low voice with de- 
 light, and it was with joy at his heart he knew 
 she was no strange Dedannan but a woman 
 of his own race, and that she was Darthool. 
 Love rose suddenly within him like a flame : 
 a red flame was it that was in his heart, and a 
 white flame in his mind, and out of these two 
 flames is wrought the love of love and the 
 passion of passion and the dream of dreams. 
 
 "Art thou, indeed, Darthool ? " he whispered ; 
 •" art thou that Darthool of whom I have 
 dreamed ? Strange is the strangeness of this 
 meeting, O white daughter of Felim. For so 
 great is thy beauty that I was fain to believe I 
 saw before me one of the queens of the Tuatha- 
 De-Danann. But is this thing true, that against 
 thine own will Concobar the high king keeps 
 thee here like a trapped bird among these 
 woods ? " 
 
 "True it is, and more: for it is not even 
 by Concobar's will that I roam the wood- 
 lands. He was fain that I should never leave 
 the rath save with Lavarcam, and that I should 
 spend most of my days within the stone walls 
 
 213 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 of the dreary lios where he has doomed me to 
 dwell." 
 
 " Darthool, my heart is filled with a rising 
 tide. That tide is love. Thou hast not seen 
 the sea : but there, when the tide flows, there is 
 nothing, there is no one, in all the world, which 
 can say it nay. So is my love for thee, that 
 now rises ; and, once thine, will be thine ever- 
 more. Yet I would not put this upon thee ; 
 and if thy words and looks come out of thy 
 frank, sweet courtesy and open maidenly heart, 
 and mean no more than that thou carest for me 
 as a brother, it is thy brother I will be, Dar- 
 thool, to serve thee and succour thee and love 
 thee evermore, and in that way only." 
 
 For a brief while she looked at him. Then 
 the noon-blue of her eyes deepened, and a flush 
 drifted through her face and waned into the 
 deeper red of her parted lips. 
 
 " Nathos," she said in a low voice, which 
 trembled as a reed in the wind, " I, too, love. 
 It is thee I love. If it be wrong for me, a 
 maiden, to speak thus, forgive me, for I have 
 orown wilding here, and am more akin to 
 the fawns of the forest than to women kind 
 of mine own age or estate. But I love thee, 
 Nathos : as of old, in the far-off Dedannan 
 
 214 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 days, Dectura the queen loved the Green 
 Harper, and went forth with him and was seen 
 no more of her own people." 
 
 " If thou indeed wilt have it so, Darthool, 
 be thou my Dectura, and let me be thy Green 
 Harper. For beyond the reach of life or death 
 is the greatness of the love I feel for thee, even 
 now in this first hour of our meeting." 
 
 " Thy words are in my heart, Nathos ; and 
 because that this is so, I now put geas upon 
 thee. Let thy sword be as my sword, and be 
 thou to me as brother and friend and the 
 holder of my leal love ; and to this end, lo ! I 
 throw this yellow thistle against thy cheek, to 
 raise a mark of shame there if thou dost not 
 fulfil the bond, and there to be seen of all men 
 as a sign and witness of thy disgrace ; yea, 
 even thus I put geas upon thee, to succour me 
 in my ill fate, to take me unto thyself, to give 
 thyself unto me, and to let us go forth together 
 heedless of Fate." 
 
 Nathos looked at her with proud eyes. 
 
 " Of a surety, Darthool, there is no hero of 
 the Red Branch who hath a courage greater 
 than thine, even though it may be that thou 
 speakest the more freely from knowing little of 
 what may befall." 
 
 215 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 " What can befall save death, and dost thou 
 fear death, son of Usna ? " 
 
 Nathos smiled out of grave eyes. 
 
 "If I feared death, Darthool, I would not 
 now be speaking with thee here. It is swift 
 silence upon any who in this forbidden land 
 speaks with the daughter of Felim the Harper. 
 Concobar MacNessa has the ears of a hare 
 and the eyes of a hawk and the swoop of 
 an eagle. Dost thou remember the swineherd 
 to whom thou gavest word privily ? Well, 
 that night he lay in the grass tended only by 
 the raven and the w r olf, for he w T as done to 
 death with blunt spear-shafts." 
 
 " For that I have deep grief," said Darthool, 
 with tears drifting like a rainy mist athwart the 
 blue of her eyes. 
 
 " Nevertheless, he died with a smile, Dar- 
 thool. Thou hadst looked into his eyes and 
 kissed him. Even so, and for less now, would 
 I too die." 
 
 " That thou shalt not do, Nathos ; " and even 
 as she spoke Darthool moved forward and put 
 her honeysweet lips against the mouth of 
 Nathos, and made his blood leap, and a flame 
 come into his eyes, and a trembling come into 
 his limbs. 
 
 216 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 Then, as though with that kiss she had be- 
 come as a wild rose, she stood swaying lightly, 
 her fair face delicately aflame. Nathos put his 
 arms about her, and kissed her on the brow 
 and on the lips. 
 
 "That kiss on the brow is for service," he 
 said, " because from this hour thou art my 
 queen ; and that kiss on the lips is for love, for 
 from this hour I shall love no woman save thee 
 thyself, but shall be thine and thine only in life 
 or death." 
 
 Nevertheless, though Nathos accepted the 
 geas put upon him by Darthool, he was 
 troubled at the thought of the anger of 
 Concobar the high king. It would be a 
 swift and bitter death for him, and for Darthool 
 too it might be death or worse. 
 
 The thought in his mind swam into his eyes, 
 and Darthool saw it. She shrank from him, 
 and stood hesitating and as though about to 
 flee at his first word of doubt. When he 
 looked at her again his last fear went. 
 
 " Fair wonderful one, thou art as a fawn 
 there in the fern where thou standest ; Dar- 
 thool, do not doubt the truth of my words. I 
 am thine to love and to serve, and am under 
 gcas to thee. But my thought was this : if 
 
 217 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 we two go hence and are waylaid, it will be 
 death, and if we go hence and are not waylaid 
 forthwith, it will still be death ; for long is the 
 arm, and heavy the hand, and tireless the quest 
 of Concobar MacNessa. And this, too : that 
 if we cross the Moyle and go to Alba, it may 
 still be death ; yea, though for a year or for a 
 brood of years we elude the undying wrath and 
 vengeance of the king." 
 
 " He will forget when once the bird is flown. 
 Neither the bird nor the wind leaves any track, 
 so let our flight be as that of the bird and our 
 way be as that of the wind." 
 
 " The king: forgretteth not. If so be that we 
 might escape him many years, he will yet have 
 his will of us in the end ; and this though thou 
 wert old, Darthool, and wert no longer his 
 desire, and though I were outlawed and broken 
 and no more in his sight than a wolf of the 
 hills, good to slay if come upon, but not worthy 
 of chase." 
 
 " Concobar is not a king in Alba ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Then let us &o to thine own land. He 
 can do no more than send emissaries after 
 us, and with these thou canst deal swiftly, 
 Nathos." 
 
 218 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 At that, Nathos lightly laughed. 
 
 " Truly, I am seeing Concobar as a man sees 
 his own shadow in the water. He is a great 
 king in Uladh, but he is no more in Alba than 
 any hero of the Red Branch. Come, Uarthool ; 
 across the Moyle are the pine-green shores of 
 Alba. It is a fair, beautiful land. The sea- 
 lochs reach far among pine-clad hills, and green 
 pastures are on the slopes of the great moun- 
 tains and around the shadowy, inland waters. 
 The forests are full of deer and wild birds, the 
 rivers and lochs of fish, the pastures of cattle 
 and sheep and swift brown mares. Thou shalt 
 have milk to drink, and the red flesh of the 
 salmon, and the brown flesh of the deer, and 
 the white flesh of the badger. Thou shalt lack 
 for nothing, who art my queen ; and thou shalt 
 have love till the sun grows a lordlier fire and 
 the stars leap in their slow dance from dusk to 
 dawn." 
 
 " I will come," Darthool whispered, with 
 glad eyes. 
 
 " Only thou must not delay. Thy coming 
 must be now. Thou must not even enter the 
 rath again. Otherwise it is never the waters 
 of the Moyle that we shall see, but only the 
 red flame in the eyes of Concobar." 
 
 219 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 Even while Nathos spoke his eyes grew 
 hard, and his hands slipped to the javelin he 
 had by his side. While Darthool watched 
 him in amaze, he swung the iron-pointed shaft 
 at a place where a bent bracken hung listless 
 in the air. 
 
 "Is it a wolf?" cried Darthool, in sudden 
 affright. 
 
 " It is worse than a wolf," answered Nathos ; 
 "for if thou wilt go to that place thou wilt 
 see either a slain man, or the form of a man, in 
 the grass beneath the bracken." 
 
 Swiftly Darthool ran to the spot wherein the 
 javelin had swung singing. There was no 
 one there, but, where the javelin still quivered 
 slightly, she saw the still warm shape of a 
 crouching man, and discerned, by the bending 
 of the bracken, what course he must have 
 twisted away. 
 
 Nathos followed and stood beside her. As 
 he stooped to pluck the javelin from the ground, 
 he descried a wooden-hilted knife. 
 
 "It is as I thought," he said gravely. 
 " Concobar has set a spy upon me. No Ul- 
 tonian carries a knife such as this. It belongs 
 to the hillmen of the north-west, of whom a 
 few years agone we made slaves. Mayhap 
 
 220 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 one of these men who were with the swineherd 
 has been told to follow me secretly whereso- 
 ever I go." 
 
 Darthool turned and looked at Nathos with 
 eyes filled with a new fear, because of her love 
 of him. 
 
 He took her hand in his. 
 
 " There is yet time, Darthool. Wilt thou 
 go back to the rath, and stay there till Conco- 
 bar wills thee to be his wife ? " 
 
 " I cannot go back." 
 
 " Then come, O Darthool." 
 
 And with that the twain turned and moved 
 swiftly northward through the forest, by the 
 way Nathos had already passed. 
 
 " By dawn we may reach the dun where my 
 two brothers now are, and for that day and 
 that night we may rest in safety," whispered 
 Nathos, as Darthool turned and looked for the 
 last time upon the place where she had lived 
 all these years. 
 
 "But thereafter, O love that I have won, 
 the wind must be in our hair and the dead 
 leaves be upon the soles of our feet, for there 
 can be no resting for us till we are away from 
 this land : no, and not for us only, but also 
 for Ailne and Ardan. Concobar will not rest 
 
 22 I 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 content with bitter wrath, and, if he cannot 
 track the stag, will slay the fawns." 
 
 Soon thereafter they drew near the place 
 where Nathos had left his hounds and his 
 huntsmen. Bidding Darthool hide among the 
 bracken and undergrowth, he went forward 
 alone and told the men to go back to the dun 
 of the sons of Usna, but not till the third day, 
 and by circuitous ways. Thus he hoped that 
 he might the longer elude Concobar, whose 
 emissaries would follow the track of his 
 hounds. 
 
 Thereafter Nathos and Darthool fared 
 swiftly hand in hand through the sombre ways 
 of the forest. While it was still light they 
 emerged upon a great moor, which they 
 crossed, and then ascended the gorges of the 
 hills. There the night fell, as though a wind- 
 drifted darkness suddenly suspended and then 
 swiftly enshrouded everything. They dreaded 
 to rest, and yet so deep was the darkness that 
 they could fare no farther. 
 
 But while they were still whispering the one 
 to the other, Darthool descried a soft, silver 
 shining, like a dewy gossamer. It was the 
 little group of seven stars that we call the 
 Pleiades. 
 
 '2'yy 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 " See," she whispered, " An Grioglachan ! 
 When they shine, others will soon be seen." 
 And so it was. 
 
 All through the night the fugitives hastened 
 onward by the light of the stars, ever keeping 
 close to each other, for the mountain solitudes 
 were full of dreadful noises, and in the black 
 tarns among the peaty moss they could hear 
 the moaning of the kelpie, or on the shores of 
 the hill-lochs the shrill neighing of the water- 
 horses, terrible creatures of the darkness. 
 
 For the last hour of the dark they rested a 
 brief while, lying close hid among the bracken, 
 in a sheltered place on a rocky mountain slope. 
 Darthool heeded little now the weariness and 
 fears of that perilous faring- by night, for she 
 was with Nathos ; and Nathos now was glad, 
 and no longer cared whether death was sure 
 or not. He fell asleep there under the morn- 
 ing stars, among the winter-brown bracken, 
 with Darthool's head upon his breast ; and his 
 last thought was, that if the swineherd had died 
 smiling because Darthool's eyes had looked 
 into his, how well might he too die content 
 if his hour came suddenly upon him. 
 
 The dawn wavered among the hills, but still 
 they slept. 
 
 223 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 A wolf tracking a wounded doe howled, 
 and the howling wailed from corrie to corrie. 
 Darthool stirred, but slept again. An eagle 
 screamed as it rose and wheeled against the 
 broadening light, but its wild voice was 
 drowned in silence. Then came the first sun- 
 rays rippling, dancing, leaping, from amid the 
 crested heights and peaks to the eastward, 
 and Nathos awoke. 
 
 For some moments he lay breathless with 
 wonder. Darthool, in all her radiant beauty, 
 was by his side, her golden hair ablaze in the 
 sunlight, and her fair face like a flower amid 
 the bracken. It was too great a wonder. 
 Then he knew that Concobar's hounds might 
 any hour now be upon them, and so he put 
 his dream away from him, and stooped and 
 kissed Darthool upon the lips. With a cry 
 she woke, and put her arms about him. Hard 
 it was for him to add to her weariness ; but 
 she rose at once, and seemed, indeed, in his 
 eyes, as fresh as any fawn of the hill-side. 
 She went to a little tarn close by and drank of 
 the cool, sweet water. 
 
 As she drank Nathos looked at her, and 
 again wondered if she were not one of the 
 divine race of old, the mysterious Tuatha-De- 
 
 224 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 Danann, whom, ages before, the Milesians had 
 driven to the hills and remote places. So fair 
 was she that his heart ached. Then a swift 
 pulse of joy leaped within him, and he was 
 glad with a great gladness. 
 
 Thereafter they sped swiftly onward, and 
 now Nathos exulted, for he recognised the 
 peaks and the trend of the valleys. Within 
 an hour from the. rising of the sun he saw the 
 grey walls of the dun of the sons of Usna. 
 
 His long cry— that of the heron thrice re- 
 peated — brought Ailne and Ardan forth. Dar- 
 thool looked at them wondering, for they, too, 
 were taller and nobler than other men, and 
 only less beautiful in her eyes than Nathos 
 himself. 
 
 But if she wondered, much more did they 
 marvel at what they saw. Never had they 
 beheld any woman so beautiful, and their first 
 thought was that of Nathos, that Darthool 
 was of the fair divine race who were now so 
 seldom seen of men. 
 
 But when Nathos had told them all, and 
 that she who was now his bride was no other 
 than that Darthool whom Concobar the high 
 king had set aside to become his queen, they 
 were filled with sorrow. Well they knew that 
 l.p. 225 p 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 Concobar MacNessa would not lightly relin- 
 quish the fair maid whom he had so long 
 secreted in the forest-lios, and that blood would 
 flow because of this thing. 
 
 "Moreover," said Ailne, "hast thou for- 
 gotten the prophecy ? There is the saying of 
 Cathba the Druid, of which we have all heard : 
 that from the daughter of Felim the Harper 
 would come sorrow to the king, and severance 
 of the Red Branch from the lost kingdom of 
 Uladh, and rivers of blood." 
 
 " That may be, Ailne, my brother," Nathos 
 answered ; " but I ask none to go with me 
 into this doom, if that doom indeed must be, 
 though mayhap the dark hour of it is passed. 
 For Darthool and I shall now fare forward, 
 with some of our following, and with horses 
 and food, and haply we may reach the coast 
 and find our great galley in the Creek of the 
 Willows, where we secreted it, and so gain the 
 shores of Alba before Concobar can overtake 
 us. 
 
 But while Ailne pondered, Ardan spoke. 
 
 "That shall not be, Nathos. Listen! By 
 the Sun and the Wind I swear that where 
 thou goest I will go, and that I will never 
 desert thee nor Darthool, who is now our 
 
 226 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 sister. If the doom must come, let it come. 
 What is death, that it should put a paleness 
 into the face of love ? Are we not close-kin, 
 children of one mother, and is not Darthool 
 thy wife now and our sister, and are we not 
 henceforth as one ? Speak, Ailne, is it not 
 so r 
 
 " It is so. Ardan has spoken for me. But 
 I say nothing, for I feel upon us the shadow 
 of that doom of which, as we have heard, 
 Cathba the Druid spoke." 
 
 But here Darthool moved forward. 
 
 " Listen, Nathos, and ye, Ailne and Ardan, 
 my brothers : it is not for me to bring sorrow 
 upon the king and upon the Red Branch and 
 upon Uladh, and still less upon ye, my brothers, 
 and upon thee, Nathos. Therefore, let me now 
 go back to the lios, and tell Lavarcam, who 
 will tell the king, that I have no will to stray, 
 and that I will abide in that place till I die, or 
 till Concobar dare put his face against Fate 
 and take me thence." 
 
 At that Nathos smiled only. There was no 
 word to say ; in his eyes was all his answer to 
 Darthool. 
 
 But Ardan answered for himself and Ailne : 
 
 " Though the stars fall, beautiful daughter 
 
 227 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 of Felim, who art now Darthool, our sister, we 
 shall not leave thee, nor suffer thee to go from 
 us save by thine own free will, and that in 
 no fear for what may befall us. Nathos and 
 Ailne and Ardan are the three sons of Usna, 
 upon whom long ago geas was set, that each 
 would abide by each until death." 
 
 Thereupon all kissed each other, and took 
 the deep vow of fealty. The sons of Usna 
 knew well that it would be a madness to with- 
 stand Concobar in their dun, strong as it was ; 
 for in time he would take the place, as dogs 
 hunt out the badger from its lair, and at the 
 best would still starve them into surrender or 
 death. 
 
 ■ So with all speed they summoned those of 
 their following who were under the sword- 
 bond, and put together food and raiment, and 
 then mounted and rode swiftly away. 
 
 As they passed the highest ridge to the 
 eastward that night they looked back. A red 
 light flared in a valley far to the west. It was 
 their dun, a torch amid the darkness. A single 
 column of flame rose above it, and wavered to 
 and fro. And by that sign they knew that 
 the long arm and the heavy hand of Concobar 
 MacNessa had already reached out towards 
 
 228 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 them. Three times fifty men went with them, 
 and so swift was their flight and so sure their 
 way that before long they came to the coast- 
 lands. There, in the Creek of the Willows, 
 the long black galley was found ; and swiftly 
 all embarked. 
 
 It was with glad eyes that Darthool and 
 the sons of Usna saw the dancing waves of 
 the sea, and felt its free breath break upon 
 them. From three great tiers, fifty score men 
 to each, the vassals thrust out their long oars, 
 and with their blades threshed the waters into 
 a yeast of foam. In the dazzle of the sea 
 Darthool rejoiced, and made the hearts of all 
 there to swell because of an exceeding sweet 
 song she sang. 
 
 Nathos and Ailne and Ardan sat beside 
 her, and could scarce take from her face their 
 dreaming eyes. 
 
 Towards noon the wind shifted, and slid out 
 of the north towards the west. Then the 
 great sail was hoisted, and bellied out to the 
 steady breeze, and the oars were shipped. 
 The black galley now flew along the waters 
 like a cormorant. Darthool laughed with joy 
 at this new beautiful world of the sea, and 
 never tired of trailing her hands in the swift 
 
 229 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 lapsing wave, or in the send of the following 
 billow. 
 
 In the afternoon they came close to the 
 shores of Alba, and made northward, past 
 many isles and through narrow straits and 
 fjords. In one and all Darthool took pleasure, 
 and was glad indeed that the land of Nathos 
 was so beautiful. 
 
 At sundown they reached the eastern shores 
 of the great island of Mull, and there the wind 
 failed them, so the galley was put into a bay 
 that is now the bay of Aros. 
 
 There the sons of Usna debated long as 
 to what course to follow. Nathos and Ailne 
 thought it best to move inland, and to gain 
 the protection of the high king of Alba ; but 
 Darthool feared this because of a dream she 
 had thrice dreamed, wherein she saw a strange 
 king and a strange folk laughing over the slain 
 body of Nathos, while she stood by crowned 
 but a captive. As for Ardan, he said only 
 that the sons of Usna should go to where 
 their father's dun had been, before the last king 
 of Alba had destroyed it. 
 
 That night a galley came to them from the 
 long island of Lismore. In it were a score of 
 men, commanded by a lord of Appin, named 
 
 230 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 Fergus of the Three Duns. With him was a 
 stranger, clad in a rich robe of fur, so claspt 
 across the throat with gold that the hood he 
 wore fell about and covered his face. While 
 Fergus spake with the sons of Usna, and 
 told them how they had been seen by men of 
 his in a swift war-galley, off the south coast 
 of Mull, and urged them also to go inland to 
 meet the king, the stranger looked steadfastly 
 upon Darthool. 
 
 When at last he had to speak to the brothers 
 he addressed them courteously, but in a Gaelic 
 strange to their ears. He bade them come 
 with him to his high-walled dun, a brief way 
 inland : to come alone, as his guests, and to 
 bring Darthool with them. 
 
 "It is not well to cm to a man's dun, and 
 not be knowing that man's name," said Nathos 
 courteously. 
 
 The stranger hesitated, and looked at 
 Fergus. 
 
 " They call me Angus Mudartach," he said. 
 But at that Darthool asked him to let her look 
 upon his face. 
 
 " For it is not meet," she added, " that we 
 should go to a man's dun and not have seen 
 his face." 
 
 231 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 Angus of Moidart drew back his hood. 
 
 Darthool's lips grew pale. Then she 
 smiled. 
 
 " Let us rest here for to-night, Angus 
 Mudartach," she said, "and, if thou wilt come 
 again on the morrow after to-morrow, thou 
 canst take us with thee to thy great dun. But 
 meanwhile we have travelled far and swiftly, 
 and would fain rest : and, as thou seest, the 
 skies are clear, and we want for nothing." 
 
 Once more Angus pleaded to the sons of 
 Usna. 
 
 " Ye are brave men, and can laugh at weari- 
 ness or danger. But if the island be swept 
 by a great storm to-night, or if the followers of 
 Concobar, king of the northlands of Erin, 
 come upon ye, or if other misadventure befall, 
 shall ye wantonly expose this fair young 
 princess ? Nay, rather, let her come with 
 me, and she shall not only be safe in my great 
 rath of Dunchraig, but there my wife and 
 her maidens shall make much of her, and give 
 her white robes and golden torques and gar- 
 ments of delicate furs. This maid whom ye 
 call Darthool is too young to be thrown thus 
 idly before the feet of the evil powers who are 
 for ever clamouring for death." 
 
 232 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 But, at a sign from Darthool, Nathos refused ; 
 saying, with gracious words and courteous 
 mien, that it would rejoice them all to visit 
 Angus Mudartach later, but not then. 
 
 So Angus of Moidart turned, frowning, and 
 went back to his galley with Fergus of the 
 Three Duns. And as he went he asked 
 mutteringly how many men the sons of Usna 
 had with them. When he learned that there 
 were thrice fifty, and that Fergus had but a 
 score and ten men with him, he said no more. 
 
 When the strangers had gone, Nathos 
 turned to Darthool and asked why she had 
 not shown more graciousness to one who was 
 surely a great lord among the Alban Gaels, 
 and why she would not go with him. 
 
 " Because, Nathos, that man who called 
 himself Angus Mudartach is no other than the 
 KinQf of Alba. He it is whom I saw in my 
 dreams, laughing over your slain body, and 
 beside whom I stood crowned and yet a cap- 
 tive. And by that token I warn ye of this 
 thing : that the Alban king desireth me, and 
 would fain slay ye all, or deliver ye into the 
 hands of Concobar MacNessa." 
 
 Nathos stood brooding, but Ardan stepped 
 forward. 
 
 233 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 " Darthool is right. And wise she was, too, 
 to bid this Angus of Moidart come on the 
 morrow after to-morrow. Nevertheless, I 
 know well by hearsay of his vassal, Fergus 
 of the Three Duns, and that the man is called 
 Fergus the Wily. He will not wait, but at 
 dawn will be about us, with thrice fifty and 
 thrice fifty again." 
 
 " Ardan has spoken well," added Nathos. 
 " There is but one thing to be done. Weary 
 we are, but we must go hence at once." 
 
 And so it was. The dusk was heavy upon 
 sea and land that night, and a sea-mist came 
 up and obscured the skies, so that not a star 
 was visible. 
 
 Soundlessly they launched the great galley 
 again, and once more set sail. The night- 
 wind was from the south-east, whereat they 
 rejoiced, for thus there was no need of the 
 oars, and so no betraying thresh would be 
 heard. 
 
 When they were well north of Lismore they 
 put out the long oars and swung the galley 
 northwards. It was with relief that the sons 
 of Usna passed the Appin lands, and before 
 dawn rowed into a great sea-loch. 
 
 There, however, they learned that the King 
 
 ^34 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 of Alba, he who had called himself Angus 
 Mudartach, was in the westlands only for a 
 brief while, and would have to haste to Dun- 
 edin straightway, as runners had come with 
 tidings of a great rising. He had no rath of 
 Dunchraig, and no dun there ; and so in truth 
 the sons of Usna knew that the king had 
 lied to them, and that Darthool was right. As 
 for Fergus of the Three Duns, he was no 
 longer a great lord, but had been despoiled, 
 and at the most could summon two score and 
 ten men. 
 
 So the sons of Usna greatly rejoiced, for 
 now they could go to their own land in safety, 
 which lay beyond the region held by Fergus 
 of the Duns. 
 
 For seven days they stayed by the shores 
 of that sea-loch, under the shadow of mighty 
 mountains. Ardan, with a scanty following, 
 went through the hill-passes, and returned 
 saying that the King of Alba had gone to his 
 own country and that all the great lords of 
 the region had departed with him, including 
 Fergus. 
 
 So on the eighth day the galley sailed a 
 short way southward once more, and entered 
 into the Bay of Selma. There, on a rocky 
 
 ^35 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 eminence, were the walls of their great dun, 
 which Usna their father had built among the 
 ruins of the chief stronghold of the Cruithne, 
 the ancient people of Alba. 1 
 
 It was with joy that the sons of Usna saw 
 once more the house of their childhood, and 
 with still greater joy that they found the people 
 of the neighbouring glens and straths still loyal 
 to them. Their father Usna had ever been 
 at war with the King of Alba, and after many 
 battles (the bards sang of the beauty of Usna's 
 wife as the torch that lit those wars) he had 
 conquered all this region. But at his death, 
 by treachery the king had overcome the 
 stronghold and destroyed it. 
 
 But now again the sons of Usna had their 
 home in their own eyrie. They knew not how 
 long they might abide there in peace, for either 
 the King of Alba, or Fergus of the Duns as 
 his leader of men, would come again when 
 once peace in the eastlands was secured. 
 
 There Nathos wished to dwell alone with 
 Darthool and a few followers, but Ailne and 
 
 1 The Cruithne, or Picts, had their chief stronghold at 
 Beregonium, overlooking the Bay of Selma, not far from 
 the mouth of Loch Etive, below the Falls of Lora, in West 
 Argyll. 
 
 236 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 Arclan once more refused to leave him then 
 or ever. But glad were the thrice fifty vassals 
 to return to their own land, and without regret 
 the sons of Usna saw them set sail for Erin. 
 They were men who cared little for aught 
 save strife, and when not wielding sword or 
 spear were haughty and bitter with all other 
 men save those of the Red Branch, and so 
 were only a danger and a weariness in that 
 place. 
 
 Throughout that winter they lived there in 
 peace, hunting and fishing. So great was the 
 love of each for Darthool that every day was 
 full of peace and content wherein they saw 
 her. Nathos moved in a dream, and knew 
 the extreme of joy. At night, before the fire, 
 Darthool sang to them old-world airs of a 
 sweet plaintive music, so sweet and plaintive 
 that men said she must be no other than 
 Fionula, she of the children of Lir who were 
 turned into wild swans, and lived a thousand 
 years in the old, old clays. 
 
 But when spring came again — a spring so 
 fair and sweet that it was as though May had 
 come hand in hand with February — a rumour 
 reached them that the King of Alba, though 
 he could not penetrate the highlands of the 
 
 237 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 west, intended, with the help of Fergus of the 
 Duns and other chieftains, to proceed once 
 more against the Dun of Usna. Moreover, 
 he had sworn to raze it to the ground, and to 
 slay Nathos, and to take Darthool to be his 
 wife. 
 
 Nathos laughed at this, for he knew well 
 that the King of Alba would never take him 
 alive, nor yet Darthool. But after long col- 
 loquy with Ailne and Ardan, all decided to set 
 forth and pass northward to the land whence 
 their mother had come, a land of endless moun- 
 tains and narrow lochs, beautiful beyond any 
 other, grander than any Darthool had seen, 
 and remote beyond the reach of any Alban 
 kin Qf. 
 
 So thither they set forth, and took with them 
 in their great galley two score and ten men 
 of their own clan. After long sailing up 
 narrow lochs, the sons of Usna reached the 
 mountain land whence their mother had come. 
 Her father was dead, but the great dun he 
 had built upon the summit of one of the hills 
 overlooking the Black Loch had been left un- 
 harmed, and was tenanted only by wandering 
 shepherds. Here Nathos and Darthool made 
 their home, and in that beautiful land and in 
 
 238 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 the glory of spring, knew the full joy and 
 richness of life. 1 
 
 For a brief while all the people of the 
 mountain lands round about gave in their ad- 
 herence to Nathos, so that he became as a 
 king in that region. So great was the fear in 
 which the three sons of Usna were held, and 
 so strong were they in their mountain home, 
 that none dared to approach them with the 
 flaming brand. 
 
 Thus three years passed, and in all the wide 
 reaches of the world there was no man so 
 happy as Nathos and no woman so happy as 
 Darthool ; and after these there were none so 
 happy as Ailne and Ardan, who were well 
 content to live so that they might be near the 
 beautiful wife of Nathos, their sister, Darthool, 
 fairest of all women in the world. 
 
 The King of Alba, whom they had feared, 
 was now dead, and the king who reigned in 
 his place was well disposed towards the sons 
 of Usna and sought their alliance. So this 
 was done, and the name and fame of the three 
 
 1 To this day, the Highlander of Western Argyll and of 
 Inverness-shire is familiar with the Fort of the Sons of 
 Usna, above one of the lochs which constitute what is 
 now known as the Caledonian Canal. 
 
 239 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 brothers spread throughout the land ; while 
 from the wild west to the populous east the 
 poets sang of the beauty of Darthool. 
 
 In the summer months they abode at the 
 high fort of Darthool, for so they named it, 
 on the heights above the Black Loch, or Loch 
 Ness as we now call it ; and from the first 
 frosts till the cuckoo's song had ceased they 
 lived at Dunuisneachan, their father's ancient 
 stronghold by the shores of Loch Etive. 
 Thence often they wandered far afoot, or sailed 
 southward and eastward among the sea-lochs 
 and narrow kyles. They hunted in Glenorchy 
 and fished under the mountain-shadows on 
 Loch Awe ; or followed the deer through the 
 woods of Glenlaidhe. When it was pleasant to 
 be upon the waters, they sailed down the long 
 fjord of Loch Fyne, and rested awhile at the 
 Haven of the Foray, and watched the coming 
 and going of the rainbows on the rocky head- 
 lands which guard that place ; then they would 
 cross to the Cowal, and enter the narrow Kyles 
 of Bute, where on the little isle we call the 
 Burnt Island they built a vitrified fort. Thence 
 they followed past the Hills of Ruel to Glen- 
 daruay (Glendaruel), and so to the head of 
 Loch Striven and up Glenmassan, and thence 
 
 240 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 down by the sweet inland waters of Loch 
 Eck, and waterward again by the bay we now 
 call the Holy Loch. Thence up the long, 
 narrow fjord of Loch Long they sailed, till 
 among the mountains they crossed the short 
 pass to Loch Lomond, and perhaps met the 
 soldiery of the King of Alba at the inland 
 lakes, or came upon the great fort of Dum- 
 barton on the Clyde ; or they may have crossed 
 the hill to the Gareloch, and so returned west- 
 ward once more by the blue frith of Clyde, 
 past the precipitous isle of Arran, and so up 
 Loch Fyne again ; or seaward by the Mull of 
 Cantire, and thence northward past the isles 
 to their own place, and could once more watch 
 the salmon leaping through the Falls of Lora 
 or chase the deer on the hills of Etive. 
 
 But during all this time Concobar, the hio-h 
 king of the Ultonians, nursed his bitter 
 thoughts. He had heard of the great fame 
 and happiness of the sons of Usna, and more 
 than ever he yearned after Darthool, his wrath 
 at his loss being the greater because that all 
 the old prophecies about the beautiful daughter 
 of Felim were unfulfilled. 
 
 One day the high king made a great festival 
 in Emain Macha, and never in Erin was seen 
 
 l.p. 241 Q 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 one more royal and magnificent. The princes 
 and nobles from all the regions in the sway 
 of Concobar were there, and all the musicians, 
 singers, and poets in Uladh. 
 
 In the midst of the festival Concobar asked 
 those present at his board if now, in the height 
 of the glory of the Red Branch, they wanted 
 for anything ; but they answered as with one 
 voice that they were content. 
 
 " And that is what I am not," he answered. 
 
 " And wherefore, O king and lord ? " 
 
 " Because that the three greatest of ye are 
 
 absent from us. I speak of the three Torches 
 
 of the Valour of the Gael : Nathos and Ailne 
 
 and Ardan, the sons of Usna, the son of 
 
 Congal Claringnech. For now I the king say 
 
 this : that it is not fitting these three heroes, 
 
 the pride of our chivalry, should be in exile, 
 
 and this only because of a woman. By the 
 
 Sun and Wind, there is no woman alive who is 
 
 worthy to be the cause of this. Far better 
 
 were it that the sons of Usna were once more 
 
 in our midst. Even now they hold half the 
 
 lands of Alba under the shadow of their sword. 
 
 Truly they are heroes, and if dark days come 
 
 upon us, as the soothsayers foretell, then indeed 
 
 we shall be in sore need of them." 
 
 242 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 All there were rejoiced at that. There was 
 not one who had not lamented the fierce 
 anger of Concobar, and who was not fain to 
 have the sons of Usna again among the 
 chivalry of the Red Branch. Only fear had 
 not allowed them to speak, for the high king 
 had slain a man who had said that Nathos was 
 too great a lord to be exiled. 
 
 " And since ye are so glad at this thing," 
 Concobar added, "and would fain have these 
 heroes among us, to be the chief pride, glory 
 and defence of Uladh against all other 
 kingdoms and provinces of Erin, I say to ye : 
 Go and bring hence again from Alba the three 
 sons of Usna." 
 
 " That is well," their spokesman answered ; 
 "but who is to prevail with Nathos and 
 his brothers ? We are willing to go, but 
 we cannot bring Nathos against his will. 
 Moreover, is he not under geas not to put foot 
 again in Erin ? " 
 
 " Not so. I know that Nathos is under 
 geas not to return to Erin unless it be in the 
 company of Fergus, the son of Lossa the 
 Red, or Conall Cernach, or Cuchulain. And 
 look you, each of these is now here, so that 
 I shall well know who most loves me." 
 
 243 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 So, when the feast was over, Concobar first 
 drew Conall Cernach aside. 
 
 " Tell me, O warrior lord," he said, " what 
 wouldst thou say or do if I should send thee 
 for the sons of Usna, and that at my secret 
 command they should be slain privily — a 
 thing, nevertheless, Conall, which I do not 
 purpose to do." 
 
 " That could not be done, O king and lord, 
 without a bitter and wrongful bloodshedding, 
 for I could not do otherwise than put death 
 upon each and all of the Ultonians who might 
 be with me on that day." 
 
 " That may be so, Conall Cernach. So now, 
 
 go- 
 Thereafter the king sent for Cuchulain. 
 
 The young champion came to him fearlessly, 
 
 for the whole heart of the warrior prince was 
 
 noble and courageous. 
 
 Concobar asked him the same question as he 
 had asked Conall Cernach. 
 
 " What would I do, O lord and king ? " 
 answered Cuchulain with proud disdain. " This 
 thing I would do, and my troth to it : that if 
 thou through me brought about the death 
 of the sons of Usna, thou mightst flee east- 
 
 244 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 ward to Innia Iarrtharaigh 1 itself, and yet 
 not be safe from perishing by my hand because 
 of thy deed." 
 
 Concobar smiled grimly. 
 
 " I knew well, Cuchulain, that ye bore me 
 no love," he said ; and bade the hero be- 
 gone. 
 
 Thereafter the king sent for Fergus, the 
 son of Rossa, and to him he put the same 
 question as to Conall Cernach and to Cuchu- 
 lain. 
 
 "This much I say," said Fergus, "that 
 never would I raise hand or weapon against 
 thee : nevertheless, there is not one Ultonian 
 who might fare forth on that errand who 
 would not get the shortness of life and sorrow 
 of death from me." 
 
 "It is thou, Fergus, son of Rossa, who dost 
 truly love thy king. It is to thee I entrust 
 this thing, who shalt be greater in Erin than 
 any son of Usna. Go forth on the morrow, 
 and remember thy name of old — Fergus 
 Honeymouth. Of a surety Nathos, with 
 Darthool, and Ailne and Ardan, shall come 
 from Alba with thee. When thou art again 
 
 1 Western India. 
 245 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 in Erin, go at once to the house of Borrach, 
 the son of Cainte ; and when thou art there 
 stay, because of one of thy geasa never to 
 refuse a feast, and beforehand I shall warn 
 Borrach of this thing. Then send forward 
 at once, and without covenant, and without 
 protection, to Emain Macha, the three sons of 
 Usna." 
 
 So on the morrow Fergus went forth, taking 
 none with him save his two sons, Illann the 
 Fair, and Buine of the Red Locks, and a 
 man Cullen to steer the sea-barge wherewith 
 he would set sail. 
 
 It was a fair voyage, and soon the black 
 barge of Fergus sailed past the isles and 
 headlands of Alba, and came to Loch Etive 
 and the Bay of Selma, where the great fort 
 of Dun Usneachain lay black against the ivy- 
 clad heights beyond. 
 
 This was in the first heats of summer, and 
 Nathos and Darthool, with Ailne and Ardan, 
 had left the fort and were among the rocky 
 declivities of the woodland near the sea. 
 There they had three hunting booths : one 
 for Nathos and Darthool, one for Ailne and 
 Ardan, and one wherein to have their eating 
 and drinking. In front of one of these booths 
 
 246 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 Nathos and Darthool sat, on that day of the 
 days, playing on the Cemrcaem (the chess- 
 board), the very chess-board which had be- 
 longed to Concobar, but which the king had 
 left in the dun of Ailne and Ardan when hunt- 
 ing near by, on the day before that on which 
 they fled with Nathos. It was all of ivory, 
 and the chessmen were of wrought gold and in 
 the likeness of strange kings and priests and 
 fantastic animals wrought in immemorial years 
 in the Orient. 
 
 And while they were playing a great shout 
 was heard, coming upon them from a branch- 
 hid hollow of the sea. 
 
 " That is the voice of a man of Erin," said 
 Nathos, holding in the air a golden knight. 
 
 " Not so," answered Darthool ; " it is the 
 voice of a Gael of Alba." Yet well she knew 
 that Nathos had guessed aright, and that even 
 now were the footsteps of fate drawing close. 
 For none can prevail against destiny. 
 
 Once more a loud cry was heard, and a voice 
 called upon Nathos and the sons of Usna. 
 
 " Of a surety, that is the voice of a man 
 
 of Erin," said Nathos eagerly, for his heart 
 
 was fain to see an Ultonian again, and to 
 
 hear of the Red Branch and of the fate of 
 
 247 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 Uladh, and as to whether Concobar reigned 
 still. 
 
 " Indeed, it is not so," answered Darthool, 
 and turning the great glory and beauty of 
 her eyes upon Nathos she bade him play on. 
 Then a third cry, nearer and clearer, was 
 heard ; and now all knew that it was the voice 
 of a man of Erin. 
 
 " And if there be no cloud upon me," said 
 Nathos, " that is the voice of no other than 
 Fergus, the son of Rossa the Red, whom I 
 knew well of old, and for whom my heart is 
 fain. Ardan, do ye go down at once to the 
 haven, and bid Fergus welcome, and all who 
 may be with him. It is a good day this for 
 us, when once more we may hear the voices 
 of the Red Branch." 
 
 While Ardan went to the haven, Darthool 
 told Nathos she had known from the first 
 that the newcomer was a man out of Erin, and 
 moreover, that he came from Concobar, and 
 that his coming boded no good. 
 
 " And how will you be knowing the one and 
 the other, Darthool ? " 
 
 " From a dream that I had : to wit, that 
 three birds flew hither from Emain Macha, 
 and brought with them three sips of rare 
 
 248 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 honey, and then that they left us with that 
 honey but took away instead three sips of our 
 blood." 
 
 " Tell me, my queen, what is the reading 
 you put upon that dream ? " 
 
 " That Fergus comes to us with the honey- 
 words of peace, but that behind them lies the 
 shedding of blood, and that blood ours." 
 
 Meanwhile Ardan welcomed Fergus, and 
 brought him and his companions to where 
 Nathos sat playing with Darthool upon the 
 ivory and gold chessboard of Concobar the 
 king. As the fair-smiling Ultonian drew 
 near, he smiled a grimmer smile behind his 
 beard, to see Nathos there with the two 
 chiefest treasures of the king's heart — the 
 woman he wished to make his queen, and the 
 chessboard that had come to him from some 
 great king's palace in the dim remote Indies 
 of which the poets sang. 
 
 Great was the rejoicing, and Nathos and his 
 brothers and Darthool embraced Fergus and 
 his sons, and eagerly questioned them for 
 tidings. 
 
 "The best tidings I have," Fergus answered, 
 " is that I have come to ye with messages 
 of loving peace from Concobar, whose heart 
 
 249 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 is smitten by your long absence, and who 
 would fain see in Erin again the three noblest 
 lords in his or any other realm. Moreover, 
 he has sent me to you with covenants and 
 guarantees of loving good faith. He has 
 pledged his kingly word, and I, too, have 
 pledged mine, and ye know well, ye sons 
 of Usna, that Fergus MacRossa Rua is not 
 a man of light word. So come back to 
 Erin with me, Nathos and Ailne and Ardan, 
 and I pray of thee, come thou too, Darthool, 
 wife of Nathos. Great shall be the welcome 
 given to ye all, and sure it is a good thing 
 to end a feud, and to put an unwaking sleep 
 upon the sword and the spear." 
 
 " That is a good word," said Nathos, who 
 was well pleased ; but a sob was in the heart 
 of Darthool, and her lips quivered as she 
 spoke. 
 
 " Surely," she said, " Concobar MacNessa 
 forgets. The sons of Usna are no tributaries. 
 Nathos is overlord now of a country greater 
 in extent than all the province of Uladh over 
 which Concobar is king. It ill befits a king 
 of an isle to go as a forgiven guest to the lord 
 of a rock." 
 
 "That is true," said Fergus quickly, " Dar- 
 
 250 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 thool has justice for what she says. But there 
 is truth in what I say also, and it is a truth 
 which the sons of Usna know, and will act by, 
 that a man longs to see the land which is 
 his own land or the land of his adoption. And 
 were not Nathos and Ailne and Ardan among 
 us as children and as boys and as youths, 
 and are they not heroes of the Red Branch ? 
 Surely, it is a good thing for a man to see his 
 own land each day, and to rejoice therein ? " 
 
 "We have two lands," interrupted Ardan, 
 "we who are of both Alba and Erin. Never- 
 theless, it would ill befit us not to look upon 
 ourselves of the Red Branch first and fore- 
 most. So if Nathos is ready to go with thee, 
 so also are Ailne and I myself." 
 
 " I am ready," said Nathos, though he kept 
 his eyes away from those of Darthool. 
 
 " And ye know that my guaranty is sure ? " 
 added Fergus. 
 
 " It is sure," said Nathos. 
 
 That night all were full of joyous pleasure, 
 save only Darthool, who in her heart knew 
 that the shadowy feet of Fate were all about 
 them, and that she at least and perhaps none 
 other there would ever again see Alba. 
 
 On the morrow all set sail. As they left 
 
 251 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 the beautiful shores, than which for sure there 
 are none more beautiful in all the realms 
 of the Gael, Darthool took her harp and sat 
 back among the deerskins in the stern of the 
 galley and sang : 
 
 " lonmhuin tir, an tir nd shoir — 
 Alba go na K-iongantaibh ; 
 Nocha ttiocfainn aiste ale, 
 Muna ttagainn le Naoise," 
 
 and for eight other verses in the old ancient 
 Gaelic that has lived in her lament till this 
 day : x 
 
 Dear is this land to me, dear is this land : 
 
 O Alba of the lochs ! 
 
 Sure I would not be sailing sad from thy foam-white sand 
 
 Were I not sailing with Nathos for the Irish strand. 
 
 1 This is a free paraphrase of the original as given by 
 Dr. Cameron in the Reliquitz Celticcz. The original con- 
 sists of nine short quatrains. In the second, the names 
 mentioned are Dun Fiodha, Dun Fionn, Innis Droighin, 
 and Dun Suibhne. In the following quatrains the old and 
 modern names are practically identical. The modern 
 Glendaruel was formerly Glendaruay (Gleann da Ruadh), 
 the Glen of the Two Roes, or Glennaruay (Gleann na 
 Ruadh), the Glen of the Roes. Innis Droighin is again 
 alluded to in the last verse. It is now called Innis Draigh- 
 neach, meaning the Island of Thorns, and is situate in Loch 
 Awe. 
 
 252 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 Dear is the Forest Fort and high Dunfin, 
 
 And Dun Swecn, and Innis Drayno — 
 
 Often with Nathos have I striven to win 
 
 To the wooded heights of these— and now we go 
 
 Far hence, and to me it is a parting of woe. 
 
 woods of Coona, I can hear the singing 
 Of the west wind among the branches green 
 
 And the leaping and laughing of cool waters springing, 
 
 And my heart aches for all that has been, 
 
 For all that has been, my Home, all that has been ! 
 
 Fain would I be once more in the woods of Glen Cain, 
 Fain would I sleep on the fern in that place : 
 Of the fish, venison, and white badger's flesh I am fain 
 That plentifully we had there, or wherever our trail 
 Carried us, yea, I am fain of that place. 
 
 Glenmassan ! O Glenmassan ! 
 
 High the sorrel there, and the sweet fragrant grasses : 
 
 It would be well if I were listening now to where 
 
 In Glenmassan the sun shines and the cool west wind 
 
 passes, 
 Glenmassan of the grasses ! 
 
 Loch Etive, O fair Loch Etive, that was my first home, 
 
 1 think of thee now when on the grey-green sea — 
 And beneath the mist in my eyes and the flying foam 
 I look back wearily, 
 
 I look back wearily to thee ! 
 
 Glen Orchy, O Glen Orchy, fair sweet glen, 
 Was ever I more happy than in thy shade? 
 Was not Nathos there the happiest of men ? 
 
 253 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 O may thy beauty never fade, 
 
 Most fair and sweet and beautiful glade. 
 
 Glen of the Roes, Glen of the Roes, 
 
 In thee I have dreamed to the full my happy dream 
 
 that where the shallow bickering Ruel flows, 
 
 1 might hear again, o'er its flashing gleam, 
 The cuckoos calling by the murmuring stream. 
 
 Ah, well I remember the Isle of the Thorn 
 
 In dark and beautiful Loch Awe afar : 
 
 Ah, from these I am now like a flower uptorn, 
 
 Who shall soon be more lost than a falling star, 
 
 And am now as a blown flame in the front of war ! 
 
 Nathos was sad when he heard this lament 
 from the mouth of Darthool, and Ailne and 
 Ardan looked at each other and whispered 
 that it was the beginning of the end. Never- 
 theless, they did not fear to confront the days 
 to come, for whatsoever the decrees of Fate 
 may be a brave man does not draw back, but 
 goes forward upon the way set before him. 
 But Nathos was in a dream, and so heeded 
 little, content too to chide Darthool because 
 that she laid so much stress on vain imagin- 
 ings. 
 
 The voyage was a swift and good one, and 
 even Darthool's heart beat the quicker when 
 
 254 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 once more she stood on the soil of Erin, her 
 own land. In three days thereafter they came 
 within sight of the Dun of Borrach, and Fer- 
 gus MacRossa was glad, for soon he would 
 be able to see Concobar the king, and tell him 
 how great was his success. 
 
 It is a strange thing that a man such as 
 Fergus Honeymouth could be so blind. Yet 
 had he ever believed in the kinglihood of Con- 
 cobar, and it was not till he reached the house 
 of the son of Cainte that he knew in truth 
 how the high king meant to play him false, 
 and mayhap to deal treacherously with the 
 sons of Usna. For after Borrach had greeted 
 them all with affection and heartsome pleasure, 
 he told them that word had come from Con- 
 cobar that they were to press forward without 
 delay, so great was the king's longing to see 
 them again, and so deep was his love for three 
 of the noblest of the knights of the Red 
 Branch. " But upon thee, Fergus MacRossa, 
 I have a feast made ready, a festival of weeks, 
 and thou knowest it is geas upon thee not 
 to refuse any feast made for thee : and so 
 as thou wouldst avoid putting shame upon me 
 and deep disgrace upon thyself, thou must 
 abide here with me." 
 
 255 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 At that, Fergus flushed a deep red, 1 and 
 was filled with anger. Yet could he not re- 
 fuse, for his geas was sacred : and no man of 
 that age dared break that bond. 
 
 So he turned to those with him, and asked 
 what was now to be done. 
 
 "Let this be done," said Darthool : "either 
 forsake the sons of Usna, or keep to thy feast- 
 bond." 
 
 " My feast-bond I must keep, Darthool, yet 
 will I not forsake the sons of Usna. My 
 guaranty is known for sure : but over and 
 above that I will send with them, and with 
 thee, mv two sons, Illann the Fair and Buine 
 the Fiery, as further warranty." 
 
 But at these words Nathos turned away 
 with a scornful smile. 
 
 " It is not at thee or thy feast-bond I smile, 
 O Fergus," he said, "but at thy protection, 
 good though thy sons be. For, by the Sun 
 and Wind, I have never yet had need of any 
 man to protect me, and go now, as ever before, 
 
 1 Literally " O d'chuala Feargus sin, do rinneadh rothnu- 
 all corcra dhe O bhonn go bathas." (When Fergus heard 
 this, he became a crimson mass from the foot-sole to the 
 face.) 
 
 256 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 confident in my own valour and might : and 
 this I say not boastingly, but openly, so that 
 Concobar and all Uladh may know it." 
 
 Thereafter Darthool and the sons of Usna 
 left the house of Borrach, and fared southward, 
 with Illann the Fair and Buine in their company. 
 As for Fergus, he cursed his bond, but never- 
 theless assured himself, for, as he said over 
 and over, if the whole five provinces of Erin 
 were assembled on one spot, they would not 
 be able to break the solemn pledge of his 
 guaranty. 
 
 But on the way Darthool urged advice upon 
 Nathos and his brothers. 
 
 "Let us go," she said, "to the isle of 
 Cullen, betw r een Erin and Alba, and there 
 await the day when Fergus will fulfil his 
 bond. In that way he shall still keep the 
 obligation of his geas, and yet we shall escape 
 the evil that I know well awaiteth us." 
 
 " That we cannot do," answered the sons 
 of Usna, " for we are in honour bound now 
 to the king. Moreover, we have the guaranty 
 of Fergus MacRossa." 
 
 "It was an ill day when we came here 
 trusting to that word," Darthool replied : but 
 said no more then. 
 
 l.p. 257 R 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 At dusk they reached the White Cairn on 
 Sliav-Fuad, and it was not till after they had 
 left the watch-tower behind them that Nathos 
 saw that Darthool was no longer of their 
 company. So he retraced his way, and came 
 upon her sleeping a deep sleep, though she 
 awoke suddenly as he drew near. 
 
 "Is sleep so heavy upon thee, fair queen?" 
 he asked, when he saw her startled eyes and 
 pale face. 
 
 " I was weary, Nathos. Yet it is not 
 weariness that has done this, but a dream. 
 I dreamed a terrifying and dreadful thing. 
 I saw thee and Ailne and Ardan and Illann 
 the Fair, but on not one of these was the 
 head remaining, but only on Buine the 
 Fiery." 
 
 " And what will be the meaning of that, 
 Darthool ? " 
 
 " That Buine will leave ye ere death 
 comes, and that a bloody death will be 
 upon each. Nathos, I pray of thee that thou 
 wilt go straightway to Dun Delgan, where 
 the great and noble lord Cuchulain is, and 
 abide with him for a while. There we shall 
 be safe. Listen, I pray thee : I see thine 
 own shadow creeping up thee, and a dark 
 
 25S 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 cloud overhead, and a cloud of clotted blood 
 it is by the same token." 
 
 "Fair woman, there is some guile upon thy 
 delicate thin lips. Why shouldst thou see 
 evil everywhere ? Be assured that neither I 
 nor Ailne nor Ardan will turn aside from 
 our quest of Concobar the king." 
 
 Darthool sighed, and remembered some 
 old wisdom she had heard from Lavarcam : 
 that if misfortune will not come to a man 
 swiftly, he will seek it and take it by the 
 great boar-fangs and compel it to come against 
 him. 
 
 But on the morrow, as they came within 
 sight of Emain Macha, once more she gave 
 counsel. 
 
 " Ye know well, Nathos and Ailne and 
 Ardan, that in Emain Macha are three fair 
 great houses of the king : that in one he 
 himself is, with the nobles of Uladh who are 
 his own following, and that in another are 
 the wayfarers of the Red Branch, and that 
 in a third are the women. Now I warn ye 
 of this thing : that if Concobar welcome us 
 into his own house and among the nobles of 
 Uladh, all will be well : but that if he send 
 us to the house of the Red Branch, that 
 
 259 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 will mean a disastrous end to thee and to 
 
 me. 
 
 They said nothing to that, and when they 
 came late into Emain Macha they knocked 
 at the gates of Concobar's house. 
 
 The messengers told the king- that the sons 
 of Usna, and Darthool, and the two sons of 
 Fergus MacRossa, were without : whereupon 
 he asked of those about him in what state 
 of provision and comfort was the house of the 
 Red Branch, and on hearing that there was 
 abundance of food and drink and comfort, he 
 bade the messengers return and conduct the 
 newcomers to that place. 
 
 When that message was given, Darthool 
 ao-ain gave counsel : but Illann the Fair was 
 wroth thereat, and the others yielded. As for 
 Nathos, he said only : 
 
 " Great is thy love, Darthool, queen of wo- 
 men : but great also is thy fearfulness." 
 
 At that Darthool smiled gravely, but said 
 no more. Only in her heart she remembered 
 what Lavarcam, in bitter irony, had told her 
 once, that when a man foresaw evil and fore- 
 fended it he was wise and strong in his courage, 
 but that if a woman did the same she was 
 timorous and whim-borne. 
 
 260 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 In the house of the Red Branch the strangers 
 were rendered all honour. Generous and 
 pleasant foods and bitter cheering drinks were 
 supplied to them, so that the whole company 
 was joyful and merry, save the sons of Usna, 
 and Darthool, who were weary with their 
 journeying. 1 
 
 Thus after they had eaten and drunken, 
 Nathos and Darthool lay down upon high 
 couches of white and dappled fawn-skins, and 
 played upon the gold and ivory chessboard. 
 
 It was at this time that a secret messenger 
 came from Concobar to tell him if Darthool 
 were as beautiful as when she fled from Erin. 
 This messenger was no other than Lavarcam. 
 The woman embraced Darthool tenderly, and 
 kissed the hands and brow of Nathos. Then, 
 looking upon them through her tears, she 
 said : 
 
 " Of a surety it is not well for ye twain to 
 be playing thus upon the second dearest thing 
 in all the world to Concobar, Darthool being 
 
 1 This sentence is literal after the old Gaelic as translated 
 by Dr. Cameron. Apropos of the mention of the chess- 
 board in the next sentence (as once before), it may be 
 added that the ancient Celtic kings and lords had a passion 
 for chess. 
 
 261 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 the clearest, and ye having taken both from 
 him, Nathos, and now ye twain being in his 
 house and in his power. And this I tell you 
 now, that I am sent hither by Concobar to see 
 if Darthool has her form and beauty as it was 
 of old. Thy beauty then was a flame before 
 his eyes, Darthool, and now it will be as a 
 torch at his heart." 
 
 Suddenly Darthool thrust the chessboard 
 from her. 
 
 " I have the sight upon me," she said in a 
 strange voice with a sob in it. 
 
 " And what is that sight, my queen?" asked 
 Nathos. 
 
 " I see three torches quenched this night. 
 And these three torches are the three Torches 
 of Valour among the Gael, and their names 
 are the names of the sons of Usna. And more 
 bitter still is this sorrow, because that the Red 
 Branch shall ultimately perish through it, and 
 Uladh itself be overthrown, and blood fall this 
 way and that as the whirled rains of winter." 
 
 Then taking the small harp by her side, she 
 struck the strings and sang : 
 
 A bitter, bitter deed shall be done in Emain to-night, 
 And for ages men will speak of the fratricidal fight ; 
 
 262 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 And because of the evil done, and the troth unsaid, 
 Emain of dust and ashes shall cover Emain the White. 
 
 Of a surety a bitter thing it is thus to be led 
 Into the Red Branch house, there to be rested and fed, 
 And then to be feasted with blood and drunken with 
 
 flame, 
 And left on the threshold of peace silent and cold and 
 
 dead. 
 
 The three best, fairest, and noblest of any name, 
 Are they all to be slain because of a woman's fame ? 
 
 Alas ! it were better far there were dust upon my head, 
 And that I, and I only, bore the heavy crown of shame. 
 
 At that Nathos was silent awhile. He knew 
 now that Darthool was right. He looked at 
 his brothers : Ailne frowned against the floor, 
 Ardan stared at the door, with a proud and 
 perilous smile. He looked at Illann the Fair 
 and at Buine the Fiery : Buine drank heavily 
 from a horn of ale, with sidelong eyes, Illann 
 muttered between his set teeth. 
 
 "This only I will say, Darthool," Nathos 
 uttered at last, " that it were better to die for 
 thee, because of thy deathless beauty, than to 
 live for aught else. As for what else may 
 betide, what has to be will be." 
 
 " I will go now," said Lavarcam, " for Con- 
 
 26?, 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 cobar awaits me. But, sons of Usna and sons 
 of Fergus, see ye that the doors and windows 
 be closed, and if Concobar come against ye 
 treacherously may ye win victory, and that with 
 life to ye all." 
 
 With that Lavarcam left. Swiftly she 
 sought Concobar, and told the king that it was 
 for joy she knew now that the three heroes, 
 the sons of Usna, had come back to Erin to 
 dwell in fellowship with the Ardree and the 
 Red Branch, but that it was for sorrow she had 
 to tell that Darthool the Beautiful was no longer 
 fair and comely in form and face, but had lost 
 her exceeding" loveliness, and was now no more 
 than any other woman. 
 
 At first Concobar laughed at that ; then as 
 his jealousy waned he thought with sorrow of 
 the loss of so great beauty ; and then again his 
 spirit was perturbed. So he sent yet another 
 messenger on the same errand. 
 
 This was a man named Treandhorn. Before 
 Concobar sent him to the house of the Red 
 Branch he said : 
 
 " Treandhorn, who was it that slew thy father 
 and thy brother ?" 
 
 "Thou knowest, O King, that it was Nathos, 
 son of Usna, who slew them." 
 
 264 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 Concobar smiled. " Now," he said, "go and 
 do my behest." 
 
 When Treandhorn reached the house, he 
 found all the doors and windows closed and 
 barred. Then fear seized him, for he knew 
 that the sons of Usna were on guard, and 
 would have wrath upon them. 
 
 Nevertheless, still more did he fear to go 
 back to Concobar with nought to tell him. 
 
 So the man, descrying a narrow window at 
 one side, climbed to it from an unyoked chariot 
 that was near, and looked in. He saw Nathos 
 and Darthool talking each to each in low 
 voices, where they lay upon the white and 
 dappled fawn-skins, with the gold and ivory 
 chessboard between them. He smiled grimly, 
 when he saw how great and noble and kingly 
 Nathos seemed, and how more wonderful and 
 beautiful than ever were the wonder and beauty 
 of the eyes and face and form of Darthool. 
 
 It was the last time he smiled. At that 
 moment Nathos glanced upward. Swift as 
 thought he lifted a spiked and barbed chess- 
 man and hurled it at the man's eye. Treand- 
 horn fell backward, but rose at once and fled, 
 with his right eye torn and blind for ever- 
 more. 
 
 265 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 When he came to the king and told his tale, 
 and how Nathos was like a king indeed, and 
 Darthool more beautiful by far than she had 
 been of old, Concobar sprang to his feet. A 
 red light came into his eyes, and he threw back 
 his head and laughed ; and at that laughing 
 every man there knew that his madness was 
 come upon him, and that the blood-thirst was 
 already sweating upon many swords. 
 
 " Ultonians," he cried, "will ye do the will 
 of your king ? " 
 
 " That will we ! " they answered with a great 
 shout. 
 
 "Then come ye, and all your followers and 
 vassals, and surround the house of the Red 
 Branch, and set it in a forest of red flames, 
 and if any run from out thereof put them to 
 the sword." As all ran swiftly from the king's 
 fort, a high terrible voice was heard. It was 
 that of the dying Cathba the ancient Druid, 
 and what he cried thrice was : " The Red 
 Branch perisheth ! Uladh passeth ! Uladh 
 passeth ! " 
 
 But none heard him or paid heed, save only 
 Lavarcam, who in that bitter crying knew well 
 that the end was come. 
 
 In a brief while thrice three hundred men 
 
 266 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 surrounded the fort of the Red Branch, and 
 set red flames about it ; and thrice three 
 hundred more made haste to join them. 
 
 There was a mighty onset at the first led by 
 Buine the Fiery, who slew many, and quenched 
 the fires, and threw the Ultonians into con- 
 fusion. 
 
 " Who is the hero who has done this ? " cried 
 Concobar. 
 
 " It is I, Buine Borbruay, the son of Fergus 
 MacRossa." 
 
 " I will give thee great bribes, Buine, if 
 thou wilt forsake these robbers of my wife that 
 was to be." 
 
 " What are thy bribes ? " 
 
 " I will s^ive thee a cantred of land at thine 
 own choice, and I will make thee my chosen 
 
 comrade, and thou shalt be as next to the 
 
 1>> 
 
 o 
 
 Then Buine the Faithless laughed and said : 
 " Better the honours of a king- than the thanks 
 of dead men," and with that, for all the pledged 
 guaranty, of Fergus and the troth of his own 
 word, he went over unto Concobar. 
 
 But when Illann the Fair heard of this he 
 was wroth. He saw the bitter smile on the 
 lips of Darthool, and he swore that he would 
 
 267 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 not desert those upon whom lay the protection 
 of his father's guaranty. 
 
 Meanwhile Ardan lay, dreaming with a proud 
 smile against the fire ; and, upon the deerskins 
 near the couch of Darthool, Ailne and Nathos 
 played at chess, for little did they care to 
 heed the treacherous valour of the Ultonians. 
 They knew, too, that their hour was come ; and 
 being kingly, gave no thought to that little 
 thing. 
 
 But Illann called the troops together and 
 fared forth, and made so deadly an onslaught 
 that he slew three hundred of Concobar's men. 
 Then he quenched the fires, and went back to 
 the fort and to where Ailne and Ardan were 
 playing together. 
 
 "Is that rain that is making a noise with- 
 out ? " said Ailne to Nathos. 
 
 " No ; it is a humming of gnats," answered 
 Nathos. " Let us play on." 
 
 " My fate is heavy upon me, Nathos and 
 Ailne," said Illann the Fair. " I have done 
 well by thee, but I feel the heavy hand of 
 fate is against me, and who can withstand 
 fate ? " 
 
 " No one," Nathos answered later, when he 
 had thought upon his play. At that Illann the 
 
 208 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 Fair drank a drink, 1 and went out again. The 
 fires had been quenched, and there was a deep 
 darkness. So he bade each man take a torch, 
 and then all set furiously again upon the Ulto- 
 nians. 
 
 It was then that Concobar bethought him of 
 his son Fiacha the Fair, who was born on the 
 same night as Illann the F'air. There was life 
 to the life, or death to the death, in that. 
 
 So he called Fiacha, and bade him strive 
 with Illann, and gave him the three famous 
 weapons of the royalty of Uladh — the moaning 
 Orchaoin, and the terrible Corrthach, and the 
 Notched-Bow. 
 
 But for all his enchanted weapons Fiacha 
 did not prevail, and after a great and wonderful 
 fight, which was girt about by a strange sighing, 
 the sighing being the breath of the pulses of the 
 watching host, Illann drove him to the ground 
 where he crouched behind the shelter of his 
 shield. Easily then he might have slain him 
 but for this : — 
 
 The moaning Orchaoin made so great and 
 terrible a voice that it was heard afar off. 
 The Three Ceaseless Waves of Erin heard it, 
 
 1 Agus (Tibh deoch, agus tainigh amach aris, etc., " and 
 he drank a drink," etc. 
 
 269 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 and roared responsive, so that all the coasts 
 shook with their thunder : the Wave of Toth 
 (Tuaithe), the Wave of Clidna (Cliod/ma), and 
 the Wave of Rudhraya (Rud/waigke). There 
 was a great dun on these coasts, named Dun 
 Tobairce, and there Conall Cernach the son of 
 Amergin lived : and when he heard the roaring 
 of the Three Waves of Erin, he knew that 
 Concobar was in dire distress. 
 
 And that moaning; of Orchaoin brought 
 Conall Cernach on his magic steed that could 
 fly through the night. He had with him his 
 great sword "Blue Blade," and when he came 
 to the place of the strife he moved swiftly up 
 behind Illann the Fair, and plunged " Blue 
 Blade " into the back, and through the heart, 
 and out at the breast of the hero. 
 
 But when Conall Cernach heard from Illann's 
 own lips what he had done, he was filled with 
 wrath and grief. 
 
 " Thy faithless summons shall avail nought," 
 he cried into the torchlit darkness where Con- 
 cobar was ; and with that he took his sword, 
 and severed from its body the head of Fiacha 
 the son of Concobar, and tossed it towards the 
 king. Then, turning his back upon the host, 
 he departed as he had come. 
 
 270 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 With the death of Illann the Fair, the Ulto- 
 nians once more took heart. They surrounded 
 the Red Branch fort, and again set red tlames 
 leaping against it. 
 
 Then Ardan came forth : laughing lightly, 
 and with a proud joy. 
 
 The Ultonians saw then what it was to 
 perish as mown grass. And when he had slain 
 five times fifty, his arms grew weary. 
 
 " How many did Illann the Fair slay in that 
 onslaught of his ? " he asked. 
 
 " Thrice five score," he was told. 
 
 So Ardan slew two score and ten more, and 
 then another score, for it did not befit so great 
 a hero to slay less than an Ultonian champion, 
 noble as Illann the Fair was. 
 
 When he was tired, he went into the fort, 
 and told Ailne that there was still fresh carrion 
 enough for a wild-hawk to glut its thirst with. 
 
 So Ailne rose from the chessboard and 
 drank a drink, and went out, and did among 
 the Ultonians even as Ardan had done, al- 
 though he slew a score more, for he was older 
 than Ardan, and so it did not befit him to put 
 the stiffness and the silence upon fewer men. 
 
 Two-thirds of the night were now gone, yet 
 Concobar did not withstay his wrath. For 
 
 271 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 now the whole host of the Ultonians was 
 gathered together, and he thought to have 
 victory at the last. 
 
 But at their great shouting and the higher 
 leaping of the flames Nathos rose. He kissed 
 Darthool, then he drank a drink, and went out 
 against the Ultonians. 
 
 In that hour thrice three hundred men grew 
 cold and stiff. 
 
 Then he slew five score more. 
 
 "Go to Concobar," he said to a man, "and 
 tell him that he has lost a thousand men over 
 and above the hundreds slain by Illann the 
 Fair and Ailne and Ardan. And now let him 
 come to me himself." 
 
 But when Concobar heard that, he sent a 
 messenger to Lavarcam to ask if Cathba the 
 Druid were yet dead ; and when he heard that 
 he was not, he bade that the old man should 
 be brought to him on a litter. 
 
 When Cathba was brought, he asked if the 
 king meant death to the sons. 
 
 " I swear I mean no death," said Concobar ; 
 "but only honourably to subdue them and to 
 obtain Darthool. And so I pray of thee to 
 put an enchantment upon them, otherwise they 
 will slay every Ultonian in the land." 
 
 272 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 So Cathba raised himself, and put an en- 
 chantment between the sons of Usna and the 
 host of the Ultonians. That enchantment 
 was a hedge of spears, taller than the tallest 
 spear-reach, and more thickset than thorns on 
 a bramble-bush. 
 
 But Nathos and Ailne and Ardan put their 
 shields about Darthool, and came forth from 
 the blazing house, and cleft a way through 
 the hedge of spears, and, laughing loud, gar- 
 nered a red harvest among the swaying corn 
 of the Ultonian host. 
 
 Then there was a strange roaring heard, and 
 a vast and terrible flood came pouring from the 
 hills. The Ultonians fled to the high ground, 
 but Darthool and the sons of Usna were cut 
 off by the rushing waters. 
 
 Soon the flood rose to their waists, but then 
 it ceased rising. 
 
 " The wind will soon blow," whispered Dar- 
 thool, "and then the flood will rise, and we 
 shall be drowned." 
 
 Nathos answered nothing, but raised her in 
 his arms, and kissed her thrice upon the lips. 
 Then he put her upon his left shoulder, 
 where she sat with her white arms round his 
 neck. 
 
 L.P. 273 S 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 There was a smile in the blue eyes of 
 Nathos. 
 
 The flood now subsided, but the sons of 
 Usna could not move, for their feet were in 
 a morass. On a dry spit of land close to 
 them a man walked. This man was Maine of 
 the Red Hand, a man of Lochlin, 1 in the train 
 of Concobar. 
 
 Concobar had bidden some hero go forth 
 and slay the sons of Usna. But none would 
 stir. A deep shame burned in all. But 
 Maine's father and two brothers had been slain 
 by Nathos, and he said he would do likewise 
 unto the sons of Usna. 
 
 When he drew near, Ardan spoke. 
 
 "Slay me first," he said, "for I am the 
 youngest of the sons of Usna : and it may be 
 that with my death the tides of fortune may 
 flow again." 
 
 " That cannot be," said Nathos. " Here is 
 the sword which Manannan, the son of Lir, 
 gave me, and that cannot leave any remains 
 of blow or stroke. Let this man Maine take 
 it, and strike at us at one and the same time, 
 so that not one of us may have the shame and 
 sorrow of seeing the other beheaded." 
 
 1 Scandinavia. 
 274 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 And so it was. But while the man reached 
 for the sword, Darthool sprang from the 
 shoulder of Nathos, and strove to kill Maine of 
 the Red Hand. With a blow he reeled her 
 aside, and then whirled the great sword of 
 Manannan on high. 
 
 There was a flash in the air, and then the 
 heads of the three fairest and noblest heroes 
 of Alba fell. There was a long and terrible 
 silence, till suddenly the whole host of Uladh 
 broke into lamentation. Only Concobar stood 
 leaning on his sword, and stared at the still- 
 ness that was now fallen upon the House of 
 Usna. 
 
 But already afar off Darthool had descried 
 the champion Cuchulain, and she fled towards 
 him. 
 
 " Thou shalt be safe with me, beautiful one," 
 he said. "Tell me what thou wantest me to 
 do." 
 
 "I do not wish to live, but I wish to live yet 
 a brief hour, and not to be taken in shame- 
 ful life before the eyes of Concobar." So 
 the twain returned to where the dead lay. 
 Darthool fell upon her knees, and spread out 
 the glory of her hair, and put her lips to the 
 blood-wet lips of Nathos. 
 
 275 
 
DARTHOOL AND THE 
 
 Then she rose, and looking upon the silent 
 Ultonians, chanted this chant : 
 
 Is it honour that ye love, brave and chivalrous Ultonians ? 
 Or is the word of a base king better than noble truth ? 
 Of a surety ye must be glad, who have basely slain honour 
 In slaying the three noblest and best of your brotherhood. 
 
 Ardan the Proud, where now lies his yellow hair ? 
 Ailne the Comely, where now stare his sightless eyes ? 
 Nathos, the king of men, where now is his might, his 
 
 glory ? 
 Where are the sons of Usna whom ye swore to honour ? 
 
 Let now my beauty that set all this warring aflame, 
 Let now my beauty be quenched as a torch that is spent — 
 For here shall I quench it, here, where my loved one lies, 
 A torch shall it be for him still through the darkness of 
 death. 
 
 And with that Darthool stooped, and lifted 
 the head of Nathos, and cleaned it of blood 
 and foam, and the sweats of death, and kissed 
 the eyes and the lips, and put her love upon 
 the dear face, and her sorrow upon it, and her 
 grief upon it, and put it to her white breast, 
 and to her lips again, and gave it again her 
 grief and her love. 
 
 Then at the bidding of Cuchulain three 
 graves were digged. In each grave a son of 
 
 276 
 
SONS OF USNA 
 
 Usna was placed, and as each stood there his 
 head was placed upon his shoulders. 
 
 But the grave of Nathos was made wider. 
 Darthool stood therein and held his hands in 
 hers, and put her lips often to his lips, and 
 often whispered to him. 
 
 One other death there was in that hour, and 
 in that place. 
 
 Cathba the Druid died there : and again he 
 cried : " The Red Branch perisheth ! Uladh 
 passeth ! Uladh passeth ! ' 
 
 And so it was. On the morrow Emain 
 Macha fell before a great host, and was thence- 
 forth a place of ruin and wincl-eddied dust. 
 The Red Branch became as scattered leaves, 
 and were no more. And Uladh was given 
 over to blood and rapine, and Concobar died 
 in a madness of grief, and throughout Erin 
 for many years the tides of death rose and 
 fell. 
 
 But the sons of Usna slept, and the world 
 dreams still of the beauty of Darthool. 
 
 277 
 
Notes 
 
 279 
 
Notes 
 
 In my renderings of the three famous ancient Gaelic 
 tales, collectively known as "The Three Sorrows of 
 Story-Telling " ( Tri Thruaighe na Sccalaigheachta), 
 I have followed Professor Eugene O'Curry (In Atlan- 
 tis, Manners and Customs, and MS. Materials) ; Dr. 
 Douglas Hyde (The Three Sorrows of Story-Telling, 
 translated into English verse) ; Dr. Joyce (Old Celtic 
 Romances) ; Dr. Cameron (Reliqnicu Celticce) ; Alex- 
 ander Carmichael (Trs. Gael. Socy. of Inverness) ; Dr. 
 Angus Smith (Loch Etivc and the Sons of Uisnacli). 
 
 These tales have often been retold in prose and 
 verse ; and particular intention should be made of 
 the metrical versions of Dr. Douglas Hyde, Dr. 
 Robert Joyce (Deirdre), and, I believe, of Dr. John 
 Todhunter. 
 
 In " The Children of Lir " I have closely followed 
 the version of the original, as translated by Dr. P. W. 
 Joyce (Old Celtic Romances), and in "The Sons of 
 Usna " the literal prose rendering by Dr. Cameron 
 and the metrical translation of Dr. Douglas Hyde. 
 These two stories are told more completely than that 
 of " The Sons of Turenn," which in the original ex- 
 tends to great length, as there the narrative of the 
 world-wide quest of the Sons of Turenn is given with 
 
 great detail. 
 
 ?Si 
 
NOTES 
 
 Naturally in these retold ancient tales I have often 
 followed the Scoto-Gaelic variants, both because of 
 familiarity and by preference, and this particularly in 
 the tale of " Darthool and the Sons of Usna." 
 
 Much the most ancient of the " Three Sorrows " is 
 the tale of the Sons of Turenn. Professor O'Curry's 
 version in Atlantis is the basis of all other modern 
 renderings. The period of this tale belongs to 
 mythological times. "The Children of Lir" may be 
 taken as a connecting link between the mythological 
 and prehistoric and Christian periods. The tale of 
 " Deirdre," or " Darthool," is by far the best known 
 in Gaelic Scotland, and is still the favourite ancient 
 tale throughout all Gaeldom. 
 
 The reader who wishes further information should 
 consult in particular Professor Eugene O'Curry ; Dr. 
 Cameron, in Reliquia Celtics; Dr. Joyce, in Old 
 Celtic Romances ; and Dr. Douglas Hyde, in his 
 delightful and deservedly popular little volume. 
 
 II 
 
 The quatrains and other metrical pieces interpo- 
 lated here, and those in the text of the first and third 
 of these tales, are generally free renderings of the 
 originals. Occasionally they are almost literal. But, 
 both in the matter of selection and rejection, I have 
 taken certain slight advisable liberties with the original 
 versions. It may be as well to add, although already 
 explained in the footnote at page 122, that the " Song 
 to Macha " is here adapted from another poem known 
 as " Crede's Lament " {vide Silva Godelica, Professor 
 Sullivan's translation, etc.). 
 
 2S2 
 
NOTES 
 
 III 
 
 " Darthool and the Sons of Usna." Readers familiar 
 only with the Irish versions of this beautiful old tale 
 should also consult the important variants given by 
 Dr. Cameron and Mr. Alexander Carmichael. Dr. 
 Angus Smith also gives a good digest, and readers 
 interested in the Scottish wayfarings of Darthool and 
 Nathos will find the details given there more or less 
 specifically. 
 
 IV 
 
 In the story of " The Sons of Turenn " it is possible 
 that some injustice has been done to the character of 
 Lugh, the foremost personage in it, best known in all 
 the Gaelic chronicles as Lu-Lamfada — Lugh of the 
 Long Hand. In this version he is represented uni- 
 formly as sternly cruel ; but it must be borne in mind 
 that his inveterate hostility to the Sons of Turenn 
 was not due to insatiable revenge alone, but to his 
 belief (as prophesied by his father) that any clemency 
 in the fulfilment of the great eric demanded would 
 result in terrible disaster to Erin itself. Throughout 
 this ancient tale, indeed, we recognise Lu-Lamfada 
 as an impersonation of Destiny or Nemesis. It may 
 at the same time be added that in the story of " Dar- 
 thool " Fergus is shown more obviously culpable than 
 the old chronicles indicate, where he appears rather 
 as a too innocent and trustful tool of King Concobar. 
 
 V 
 
 A few notes as to the less familiar of the Gaelic 
 names introduced in the foregoing pages may aptly 
 
 283 
 
NOTES 
 
 be given here, and the more conveniently in alpha- 
 betical order. 
 
 AE. Pronounced as rhyming to day : equivalent 
 to Hugh. 
 
 AlLNE. The older forms are Ailna and Ainlc. 
 The latter (pronounced Anla) is probably the right 
 name. It is said to signify beauty. 
 
 Alba. The Gaelic for Scotland. The genitive of 
 this word is Alban, whence the familiar English word 
 for Scotland, Albyn. 
 
 Banba. This was one of the three ancient names 
 of Ireland — Banba, Fola, and Eire — the names of 
 three famous queens of antiquity. It is from the last 
 that Ireland derives its best known Gaelic name. 
 
 Bove Derg (Bodbh Dearg). This semi-mythical 
 king was one of the old Dedannan race, and stands, 
 as it were, midway between the elder gods and the 
 historic heroes. His name in Ireland is commonly 
 pronounced Bove-d'Yarrag ; and in Scotland as Bove 
 Derg. 
 
 CONOR {Connachar). The oldest form of this 
 famous Gaelic name, so common in Ireland, is Con- 
 cubair, or Concobar. Dr. Hyde says that Concubair 
 is properly pronounced Cunnhoor, but doubtless 
 Concobar is closer to the ancient usage. 
 
 CUCHULAIN. The oldest form of the name of this 
 great Gaelic hero is Cuchulaind. The name is pro- 
 nounced Coo-hoolin, whether spelled according to 
 any of the Irish-Gaelic variants or as to the Scottish 
 Cuthullin — but sometimes, as in Skye, Coolin. It is 
 not the real name of the hero in question. The word 
 signifies the hound of Culainn, and innumerable refer- 
 ences to Cuchulain are found throughout early Irish 
 
 284 
 
NOTES 
 
 literature simply as The Hound. He was a native 
 prince of Ulster, and lord of the district of Muir- 
 themne, lying between and including the present 
 towns of Dundalk and Drogheda, now called the 
 County of Louth, where his chief residence was 
 named Dun Delga (Dundalk). This celebrated hero, 
 the champion of the knights of the great order of 
 Gaelic chivalry, known as the Red Branch, was the 
 son of Soalte, or Sualtam, and of Dectere, sister of 
 the celebrated Irish king, Concobar mac Nessa (a 
 contemporary of Christ). His name was Setanta, 
 but he was commonly known as Cu-Culainn, the 
 Hound of Culaan, who was his instructor and war- 
 smith to King Concobar. The most famous of the 
 Knights of the Red Branch at this time were the 
 heroes known as Fergus mac Ruigh, Conall Cearnach, 
 Fergus mac Leite, Curoi mac Daire, and Cuchulain 
 mac Soalte. 
 
 DAGDA, or The Dagda. This is a purely mythical 
 personage, and is one of the ancient Gaelic divinities, 
 among whom he occupies a place somewhat akin to 
 that of Jupiter in the Latin Pantheon. 
 
 Dedannan. Pronounced Day-Donnan. This is 
 the colloquial form of the Tuatha-De-Danann ; that 
 is, the elder semi-divine inhabitants of Ireland, mostly 
 mythical, and in some cases euhemerised. They 
 became the Hidden People, or People of the Hills, 
 of ancient Gaelic legend, and later the Fairies of 
 popular tradition, though now the drift of poetic 
 thought is towards a restoration of the Tuatha-De- 
 Danann to their old spiritual significance and empery. 
 The term signifies the Divine Progeny of Ana, a 
 mysterious and perhaps supreme ancient goddess. 
 
 285 
 
NOTES 
 
 The Dedannans were also called The Deena-Shee 
 (Daoine-Sidhe), or Fairy Folk ; the Aes-She, or 
 People of the Hills ; the Marcra-Shee, or Fairy 
 Cavalcade ; and the Sloo-She (Sluagh-Sidhe), or 
 Fairy Host. 
 
 Dun. This word is properly pronounced Doon, 
 though in Gaelic Scotland generally Dun. It signi- 
 fies a fortress or great fortified dwelling or encamp- 
 ment, and should not be confused with Rath, which 
 is more what we would call the homestead, hamlet, 
 village, or township, according to circumstances ; or, 
 with Lis, or Lios, a smaller fort probably correspond- 
 ing to what we call a keep. 
 
 ElLlDH. The name Eilidh is pronounced Eily 
 (Isle-ih), and is said to be the Gaelic equivalent of 
 Helen. 
 
 Emania. This is simply the Latinized form of 
 Etnhain, or Emain, the capital of North Ireland in 
 the ancient days. The name is variously pronounced 
 as Emain, Avvin, and Yew-an or Yow-an. 
 
 Eric. Originally eiric, pronounced ay-ric. Signi- 
 fies literally a fine or blood-money, and is perhaps 
 best rendered in English by the word ransom. 
 
 Felim. This name is more familiar as Phelim. 
 The modern Gaelic is Phelimy, and the older, Ped- 
 limid.. 
 
 Geasa. Pronounced Gassa. It is the plural of 
 geis (often written geas), and signifies oath-bound in- 
 junctions or undertakings. In the old days for a 
 man to be under geasa meant that he was solemnly 
 bound to do such and such a thing, or, as it might be, 
 to refrain ; and the bond once taken could not be 
 broken without loss of honour. 
 
 2S6 
 
NOTES 
 
 ILDANNA. The old Irish word is best represented 
 by Il-danach, that is, the Master of Craft, or Master 
 of the Many Arts, and is a name which is specifically 
 given to Lugh Lamfada, Lugh the Long- Handed. 
 
 ILLANN. This frequent name of Illann, or Ulan, is 
 identical with Ullin, so familiar in Scotland through 
 the famous poem of " Lord Ullin's Daughter." 
 
 LlR. Pronounced sometimes Lirr, but generally 
 Lear. 
 
 LociiLANN. A general name for the whole of 
 Scandinavia, including, of course, Denmark, and not, 
 as sometimes stated, of Norway only. 
 
 LUGH. This name is pronounced Lu, or Loo, and 
 I have so given it in the text. 
 
 MANANNAN. Pronounced Mon-on-awn. He is 
 the Neptune of Gaelic mythology, but holds a more 
 mysterious and more potent position in the Gaelic 
 Pantheon than his classical congener. 
 
 Maev. The name of this most famous queen of 
 antiquity is variously spelt. The original is Meadb, 
 or Medbh, and is properly pronounced Mave (rhym- 
 ing with wave). 
 
 MURHEMNE. The original of this is Magh Muir- 
 teimne, pronounced Moy-mwir-hev-na. It is the 
 plain from the Boyne to near Carlingford. 
 
 MOYLE. This is the commonest pronunciation of 
 the old Gaelic Maol, though the word is best known 
 in Scotland as Mull (from the Mull of Can tyre). It 
 is applied to the sea between Cantyre and Ulster. 
 
 Mekween. The original of this difficult name is 
 Miodcaoin. I do not know what it means. 
 
 NATHOS. Originally Naisi ; later Naoise ; and 
 commonly pronounced Neesha. 
 
 287 
 
NOTES 
 
 Nuadh. Pronounced Noo-a. 
 
 Ogam, or Ogham. The ancient Cryptic method 
 of writing, like the Northern Runes, chiefly graven on 
 funeral stones or monuments. The word is some- 
 times pronounced Oo-am, or oom, but Ogam is pro- 
 bably right according to ancient usage. 
 
 Shee Finnaha. The old Gaelic is Fhionncaid, 
 and is properly pronounced Sheeh-Innachee. 
 
 TAILKENN, or TAILCINN. This name for St. 
 Patrick signifies Adze-Head (probably from his 
 monkish tonsure). 
 
 Turenn. The old form is Tuireann, and is pro- 
 nounced Tirran or Toorenn. 
 
 Ulad, or ULADH. The old name of Ulster, of 
 which Ultonia is the Latinized form. Ulad is pro- 
 perly pronounced Ulla. 
 
 Ur. This name is pronounced oo-ar (Gaelic, Uar). 
 The name in its old form is Iuchar, as that of his 
 brother is Iucharba, which I have given as Urba. It 
 is probable, however, that Ur is the modern equivalent 
 of Iucharba, and Yukar, or Yooch-ar (which I have 
 given as Urba), of the third of the Sons of Turenn. 
 There is great confusion and diversity in these old 
 names. 
 
 Butler Si Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London. 
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