I 
 
IRISH FAIRY TALES 
 
MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED 
 
 LONDON BOMBAY CALCUTTA MADRAS 
 MELBOURNE 
 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 
 NEW YORK BOSTON CHICAGO 
 DALLAS SAN FRANCISCO 
 
 THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD. 
 
 TORONTO 
 

 . 
 
 In a forked glen into which he slipped at night-fall he was surrounded by 
 giant toads (page 250). 
 
 Frontispiece. 
 
 
IRISH 
 
 FAIRY 
 
 TALES 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES 
 
 STEPHENS 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 BY 
 
 ARTHUR 
 RACKHAM 
 
* 
 
 COPYRIGHT 
 
TO 
 
 SEUMAS AND IRIS 
 
 AND TO 
 
 HELEN ERASER 
 
 4G6577 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL 
 
 THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN ... 
 
 THE BIRTH OF BRAN .... 
 
 OisiVs MOTHER . . . . IO 
 
 THE WOOING OF BECFOLA ... 
 
 THE LITTLE BRAWL AT ALLEN ... I57 
 
 THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT ... I7 ~ 
 
 THE ENCHANTED CAVE OF CESH CORRAN . 2OI 
 
 BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN ... 210 
 
 MONGAN'S FRENZY .... 2< - 7 
 
 Vll 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 IN COLOUR 
 
 PACE PAGE 
 
 In a forked glen into which he slipped at night-fall he was surrounded 
 
 by giant toads (page 250) . . . . Frontispiece 
 
 " Wild and shy and monstrous creatures ranged in her plains and forests " . 12 
 " My life became a ceaseless scurry and wound and escape, a burden and 
 
 anguish of watchfulness " . . . . .28 
 
 He might think, as he stared on a staring horse, " a boy cannot wag his 
 
 tail to keep the flies off" . . . . .40 
 
 How he strained and panted to catch on that pursuing person and pursue 
 
 her and get his own switch into action . . . .46 
 
 A man who did not like dogs. In fact, he hated them. When he saw one 
 
 he used to go black in the face, and he threw rocks at it until it got 
 
 out of sight ........ 94 
 
 Then they went hand in hand in the country that smells of apple-blossom 
 
 and honey . . . . . . . .96 
 
 The door of Fionn's chamber opened gently and a young woman came into 
 
 the room . . . . . . . .116 
 
 She looked with angry woe at the straining and snarling horde below . 144 
 
 The banqueting hall was in tumult . . . . .166 
 
 ix 
 
x IRISH FAIRY STORIES 
 
 FACE PAGE 
 
 The thumping of his big boots grew as continuous as the pattering of hail- 
 stones on a roof, and the wind of his passage blew trees down . 190 
 
 " This one is fat," said Guillen, and she rolled a bulky Fenian along like a 
 
 wheel . . . . . . . .210 
 
 They stood outside, filled with savagery and terror . . .214 
 
 The waves of all the worlds seemed to whirl past them in one huge green 
 
 cataract . . . . . . . .254 
 
 They offered a cow for each leg of her cow, but she would not accept that 
 
 offer unless Fiachna went bail for the payment . . .270 
 
 The Hag of the Mill was a bony, thin pole of a hag with odd feet . 310 
 
THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL 
 
 B 
 
THE STORY OF TUAN MAC 
 CAIRILL 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 FINNIAN, the Abbot of Moville, went southwards and 
 eastwards in great haste. News had come to him in Donegal 
 that there were yet people in his own province who believed 
 in gods that he did not approve of, and the gods that we 
 do not approve of are treated scurvily, even by saintly men. 
 
 He was told of a powerful gentleman who observed 
 neither Saint's day nor Sunday. 
 
 " A powerful person 1 " said Finnian. 
 
 " All that," was the reply. 
 
 " We shall try this person's power," said Finnian. 
 
 " He is reputed to be a wise and hardy man," said his 
 informant. 
 
 " We shall test his wisdom and his hardihood." 
 
4 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, i 
 
 " He is," that gossip whispered " he is a magician." 
 
 " I will magician him," cried Finnian angrily. " Where 
 does that man live ? " 
 
 He was informed, and he proceeded in that direction 
 without delay. 
 
 In no great time he came to the stronghold of the gentle- 
 man who followed ancient ways, and he demanded admit- 
 tance in order that he might preach and prove the new 
 God, and exorcise and terrify and banish even the memory 
 of the old one ; for to a god grown old Time is as ruthless 
 as to a beggarman grown old. 
 
 But the Ulster gentleman refused Finnian admittance. 
 
 He barricaded his house, he shuttered his windows, 
 and in a gloom of indignation and protest he continued 
 the practices of ten thousand years, and would not hearken 
 to Finnian calling at the window or to Time knocking at 
 his door. 
 
 But of those adversaries it was the first he redoubted. 
 
 Finnian loomed on him as a portent and a terror ; but 
 he had no fear of Time. Indeed he was the foster-brother 
 of Time, and so disdainful of the bitter god that he did 
 not even disdain him ; he leaped over the scythe, he dodged 
 under it, and the sole occasions on which Time laughs is 
 when he chances on Tuan, the son of Cairill, the son of 
 Muredac Red-neck. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 Now Finnian could not abide that any person should resist 
 both the Gospel and himself, and he proceeded to force 
 the stronghold by peaceful but powerful methods. He 
 fasted on the gentleman, and he did so to such purpose 
 that he was admitted to the house ; for to an hospitable 
 heart the idea that a stranger may expire on your doorstep 
 from sheer famine cannot be tolerated. The gentleman, 
 however, did not give in without a struggle : he thought 
 that when Finnian had grown sufficiently hungry he would 
 lift the siege and take himself off to some place where he 
 might get food. But he did not know Finnian. The great 
 abbot sat down on a spot just beyond the door, and com- 
 posed himself to all that might follow from his action. He 
 bent his gaze on the ground between his feet, and entered 
 into a meditation from which he would only be released 
 by admission or death. 
 
 The first day passed quietly. 
 
 Often the gentleman would send a servitor to spy if 
 that deserter of the gods was still before his door, and each 
 time the servant replied that he was still there. 
 
 " He will be gone in the morning," said the hopeful 
 master. 
 
 On the morrow the state of siege continued, and through 
 
 5 
 
6 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 that day the servants were sent many times to observe through 
 spy-holes. 
 
 " Go," he would say, " and find out if the worshipper 
 of new gods has taken himself away." 
 
 But the servants returned each time with the same 
 information. 
 
 " The new druid is still there," they said. 
 
 All through that day no one could leave the strong- 
 hold. And the enforced seclusion wrought on the minds 
 of the servants, while the cessation of all work banded them 
 together in small groups that whispered and discussed and 
 disputed. Then these groups would disperse to peep 
 through the spy-hole at the patient immobile figure seated 
 before the door, wrapped in a meditation that was timeless 
 and unconcerned. They took fright at the spectacle, and 
 once or twice a woman screamed hysterically, and was 
 bundled away with a companion's hand clapped on her 
 mouth, so that the ear of their master should not be affronted. 
 
 " He has his own troubles," they said. " It is a combat 
 of the gods that is taking place." 
 
 So much for the women ; but the men also were uneasy. 
 They prowled up and down, tramping from the spy-hole 
 to the kitchen, and from the kitchen to the turreted roof. 
 And from the roof they would look down on the motionless 
 figure below, and speculate on many things, including the 
 staunchness of man, the qualities of their master, and even 
 the possibility that the new gods might be as powerful as 
 the old. From these peepings and discussions they would 
 return languid and discouraged. 
 
 " If," said one irritable guard, " if we buzzed a spear 
 at that persistent stranger, or if one slung at him with a 
 jagged pebble ! " 
 
ii THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL 7 
 
 " What ! " his master demanded wrathfully, " is a spear 
 to be thrown at an unarmed stranger ? And from this 
 house ! " 
 
 And he soundly cuffed that indelicate servant. 
 
 " Be at peace all of you," he said, " for hunger has a 
 whip, and he will drive the stranger away in the night." 
 
 The household retired to wretched beds ; but for the 
 master of the house there was no sleep. He marched his 
 halls all night, going often to the spy-hole to see if that shadow 
 was still sitting in the shade, and pacing thence, tormented, 
 preoccupied, refusing even the nose of his favourite dog as 
 it pressed lovingly into his closed palm. 
 
 On the morrow he gave in. 
 
 The great door was swung wide, and two of his servants 
 carried Finnian into the house, for the saint could no longer 
 walk or stand upright by reason of the hunger and exposure 
 to which he had submitted. But his frame was tough as 
 the unconquerable spirit that dwelt within it, and in no 
 long time he was ready for whatever might come of dispute 
 or anathema. 
 
 Being quite re-established he undertook the conversion 
 of the master of the house, and the siege he laid against 
 that notable intelligence was long spoken of among those 
 who are interested in such things. 
 
 He had beaten the disease of Mugain ; he had beaten 
 his own pupil the great Colm CiHe* ; he beat Tuan also, 
 and just as the latter's door had opened to the persistent 
 stranger, so his heart opened, and Finnian marched there 
 to do the will of God, and his own will. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 ONE day they were talking together about the majesty 
 of God and His love, for although Tuan had now received 
 much instruction on this subject he yet needed more, and 
 he laid as close a siege on Finnian as Finnian had before 
 that laid on him. But man works outwardly and inwardly, 
 after rest he has energy, after energy he needs repose ; so, 
 when we have given instruction for a time, we need instruc- 
 tion, and must receive it or the spirit faints and wisdom 
 herself grows bitter. 
 
 Therefore Finnian said : " Tell me now about yourself, 
 dear heart." 
 
 But Tuan was avid of information about the True God. 
 
 " No, no," he said, " the past has nothing more of 
 interest for me, and I do not wish anything to come between 
 my soul and its instruction ; continue to teach me, dear 
 friend and saintly father." 
 
 " I will do that," Finnian replied, " but I must first 
 meditate deeply on you, and must know you well. Tell 
 me your past, my beloved, for a man is his past, and is to be 
 known by it." 
 
 But Tuan pleaded : 
 
 " Let the past be content with itself, for man needs 
 forgetfulness as well as memory." 
 
CH.III THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL 9 
 
 " My son/' said Finnian, " all that has ever been done 
 has been done for the glory of God, and to confess our good 
 and evil deeds is part of instruction ; for the soul must 
 recall its acts and abide by them, or renounce them 
 by confession and penitence. Tell me your genealogy 
 first, and by what descent you occupy these lands and 
 stronghold, and then I will examine your acts and your 
 
 conscience." 
 
 Tuan replied obediently : 
 
 " I am known as Tuan, son of Cairill, son of Muredac 
 Red-neck, and these are the hereditary lands of my father." 
 
 The saint nodded. 
 
 " I am not as well acquainted with Ulster genealogies 
 as I should be, yet I know something of them. I am by 
 blood a Leinsterman," he continued. 
 
 " Mine is a long pedigree," Tuan murmured. 
 
 Finnian received that information with respect and 
 interest. 
 
 " I also," he said, " have an honourable record." 
 
 His host continued : 
 
 ".I am indeed Tuan, the son of Starn, the son of Sera, 
 who was brother to Partholon." 
 
 " But," said Finnian in bewilderment, " there is an 
 error here, for you have recited two different genealogies." 
 
 " Different genealogies, indeed," replied Tuan thought- 
 fully, " but they are my genealogies." 
 
 " I do not understand this," Finnian declared roundly. 
 
 " I am now known as Tuan mac Cairill," the other 
 replied, " but in the days of old I was known as Tuan mac 
 Starn, mac Sera." 
 
 * The brother of Partholon," the saint gasped. 
 ' That is my pedigree," Tuan said. 
 
io IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, m 
 
 " But," Finnian objected in bewilderment, " Partholon 
 came to Ireland not long after the Flood." 
 
 " I came with him," said Tuan mildly. 
 
 The saint pushed his chair back hastily, and sat staring 
 at his host, and as he stared the blood grew chill in his veins, 
 and his hair crept along his scalp and stood on end. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 BUT Finnian was not one who remained long in bewilder- 
 ment. He thought on the might of God and he became 
 that might, and was tranquiL 
 
 He was one who loved God and Ireland, and to the 
 person who could instruct him in these great themes he 
 gave all the interest of his mind and the sympathy of his 
 heart. 
 
 " It is a wonder you tell me, my beloved," he said. 
 " And now you must tell me more." 
 
 " What must I tell ? " asked Tuan resignedly. 
 
 " Tell me of the beginning of time in Ireland, and of 
 the bearing of Partholon, the son of Noah's son." 
 
 " I have almost forgotten him," said Tuan. " A greatly 
 bearded, greatly shouldered man he was. A man of sweet 
 deeds and sweet ways." 
 
 " Continue, my love," said Finnian. 
 
 " He came to Ireland in a ship. Twenty-four men and 
 twenty-four women came with him. But before that time 
 no man had come to Ireland, and in the western parts of 
 the world no human being lived or moved. As we drew 
 on Ireland from the sea the country seemed like an 
 unending forest. Far as the eye could reach, and in 
 
 ii 
 
12 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 whatever direction, there were trees ; and from these there 
 came the unceasing- singing of birds. Over all that land the 
 sun shone warm and beautiful, so that to our sea-weary eyes, 
 our wind-tormented ears, it seemed as if we were driving on 
 Paradise. 
 
 " We landed and we heard the rumble of water going 
 gloomily through the darkness of the forest. Following 
 the water we came to a glade where the sun shone and 
 where the earth was warmed, and there Partholon rested 
 with his twenty-four couples, and made a city and a liveli- 
 hood. 
 
 " There were fish in the rivers of Eir, there were 
 animals in her coverts. Wild and shy and monstrous 
 creatures ranged in her plains and forests. Creatures that 
 one could see through and walk through. Long we lived 
 in ease, and we saw new animals grow, the bear, the wolf, 
 the badger, the deer, and the boar. 
 
 " Partholon's people increased until from twenty-four 
 couples there came five thousand people, who lived in amity 
 and contentment although they had no wits." 
 
 " They had no wits ! " Finnian commented. 
 
 " They had no need of wits," Tuan said. 
 
 " I have heard that the first-born were mindless," said 
 Finnian. " Continue your story, my beloved." 
 
 * Then, sudden as a rising wind, between one night and 
 a morning, there came a sickness that bloated the stomach 
 and purpled the skin, and on the seventh day all of the race 
 of Partholon were dead, save one man only." 
 
 " There always escapes one man," said Finnian thought- 
 fully. 
 
 " And I am that man," his companion affirmed. 
 
 Tuan shaded his brow with his hand, and he remembered 
 
Wild and shy and monstrous creatures ranged in her plains and forests.' 
 
 To face page 12. 
 
 | 
 
iv THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL 13 
 
 backwards through incredible ages to the beginning of the 
 world and the first days of Eire. And Finnian, with his 
 blood again running chill and his scalp crawling uneasily, 
 stared backwards with him. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 " TELL on, my love," Finnian murmured. 
 
 " I was alone," said Tuan. " I was so alone that my 
 own shadow frightened me. I was so alone that the sound 
 of a bird in flight, or the creaking of a dew-drenched bough 
 whipped me to cover as a rabbit is scared to his burrow. 
 
 " The creatures of the forest scented me and knew I 
 was alone. They stole with silken pad behind my back 
 and snarled when I faced them ; the long, grey wolves 
 with hanging tongues and staring eyes chased me to my 
 cleft rock ; there was no creature so weak but it might 
 hunt me ; there was no creature so timid but it might 
 outface me. And so I lived for two tens of years and two 
 years, until I knew all that a beast surmises and had forgotten 
 all that a man had known. 
 
CH.V THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL 15 
 
 " I could pad as gently as any ; I could run as tirelessly. 
 I could be invisible and patient as a wild cat crouching 
 among leaves ; I could smell danger in my sleep and leap 
 at it with wakeful claws ; I could bark and growl and clash 
 with my teeth and tear with them." 
 
 " Tell on, my beloved," said Finnian ; " you shall rest in 
 God, dear heart." 
 
 " At the end of that time," said Tuan, " Nemed the son 
 of Agnoman came to Ireland with a fleet of thirty-four 
 barques, and in each barque there were thirty couples of 
 people." 
 
 " I have heard it," said Finnian. 
 
 " My heart leaped for joy when I saw the great fleet 
 rounding the land, and I followed them along scarped cliffs, 
 leaping from rock to rock like a wild goat, while the ships 
 tacked and swung seeking a harbour. There I stooped to 
 drink at a pool, and I saw myself in the chill water. 
 
 " I saw that I was hairy and tufty and bristled as a 
 savage boar ; that I was lean as a stripped bush ; that I 
 was greyer than a badger ; withered and wrinkled like an 
 empty sack ; naked as a fish ; wretched as a starving crow 
 in winter ; and on my fingers and toes there were great 
 curving claws, so that I looked like nothing that was known, 
 like nothing that was animal or divine. And I sat by the 
 pool weeping my loneliness and wildness and my stern old 
 age ; and I could do no more than cry and lament between 
 the earth and the sky, while the beasts that tracked me 
 listened from behind the trees, or crouched among bushes 
 to stare at me from their drowsy covert. 
 
 " A storm arose, and when I looked again from my tall 
 cliff I saw that great fleet rolling as in a giant's hand. At 
 times they were pitched against the sky and staggered aloft, 
 
1 6 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 spinning gustily there like wind-blown leaves. Then they 
 were hurled from these dizzy tops to the flat, moaning gulf, 
 to the glassy, inky horror that swirled and whirled between 
 ten waves. At times a wave leaped howling under a ship, 
 and with a buffet dashed it into air, and chased it upwards 
 with thunder, stroke on stroke, and followed again, close as 
 a chasing welf, trying with hammering on hammering to 
 beat in the wide-wombed bottom and suck out the frightened 
 lives through one black gape. A wave fell on a ship and 
 sank it down with a thrust, stern as though a whole sky 
 had tumbled at it, and the barque did not cease to go 
 down until it crashed and sank in the sand at the bottom 
 of the sea. 
 
 " The night came, and with it a thousand darknesses fell 
 from the screeching sky. Not a round-eyed creature of the 
 night might pierce an inch of that multiplied gloom. Not 
 a creature dared creep or stand. For a great wind strode 
 the world lashing its league-long whips in cracks of thunder, 
 and singing to itself, now in a world-wide yell, now in an 
 ear-dizzying hum and buzz ; or with a long snarl and whine 
 it hovered over the world searching for life to destroy. 
 
 " And at times, from the moaning and yelping black- 
 ness of the sea, there came a sound thin-drawn as from 
 millions of miles away, distinct as though uttered in the 
 ear like a whisper of confidence and I knew that a 
 drowning man was calling on his God as he thrashed and 
 was battered into silence, and that a blue-lipped woman was 
 calling on her man as her hair whipped round her brows 
 and she whirled about like a top. 
 
 " Around me the trees were dragged from earth with 
 dying groans ; they leaped into the air and flew like birds. 
 Great waves whizzed from the sea : spinning across the cliffs 
 
v THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL 17 
 
 and hurtling to the earth in monstrous clots of foam ; the 
 very rocks came trundling and sidling and grinding among 
 the trees ; and in that rage, and in that horror of blackness, 
 I fell asleep, or I was beaten into slumber." 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 " THERE I dreamed, and I saw myself changing into a stag 
 in dream, and I felt in dream the beating of a new heart 
 within me, and in dream I arched my neck and braced my 
 powerful limbs. 
 
 " I awoke from the dream, and I was that which I had 
 dreamed. 
 
 " I stood a while stamping upon a rock, with my bristling 
 head swung high, breathing through wide nostrils all the 
 savour of the world. For I had come marvellously from 
 decrepitude to strength. I had writhed from the bonds of 
 age and was young again. I smelled the turf and knew for 
 the first time how sweet that smelled. And like lightning 
 my moving nose sniffed all things to my heart and separated 
 them into knowledge. 
 
 " Long I stood there, ringing my iron hoof on stone, 
 and learning all things through my nose. Each breeze that 
 came from the right hand or the left brought me a tale. 
 A wind carried me the tang of wolf, and against that smell 
 I stared and stamped. And on a wind there came the scent 
 of my own kind, and at that I belled. Oh, loud and clear 
 and sweet was the voice of the great stag. With what ease 
 my lovely note went lilting. With what joy I heard the 
 answering call. With what delight I bounded, bounded, 
 
 18 
 
CH.VI THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL 19 
 
 bounded ; light as a bird's plume, powerful as a storm, 
 untiring as the sea. 
 
 " Here now was ease in ten-yard springings, with a 
 swinging head, with the rise and fall of a swallow, with the 
 curve and flow and urge of an otter of the sea. What a 
 tingle dwelt about my heart ! What a thrill spun to the 
 lofty points of my antlers ! How the world was new ! 
 How the sun was new ! How the wind caressed me ! 
 
 P "With unswerving forehead and steady eye I met all 
 that came. The old, lone wolf leaped sideways, snarling, 
 and slunk away. The lumbering bear swung his head of 
 hesitations and thought again ; he trotted his small red eye 
 away with him to a near-by brake. The stags of my race 
 fled from my rocky forehead, or were pushed back and 
 back until their legs broke under them and I trampled 
 them to death. I was the beloved, the well known, the 
 leader of the herds of Ireland. 
 
 " And at times I came back from my boundings about 
 Eire, for the strings of my heart were drawn to Ulster ; 
 and, standing away, my wide nose took the air, while I 
 knew with joy, with terror, that men were blown on the 
 wind. A proud head hung to the turf then, and the tears 
 of memory rolled from a large, bright eye. 
 
 " At times I drew near, delicately, standing among thick 
 leaves or crouched in long grown grasses, and I stared and 
 mourned as I looked on men. For Nemed and four couples 
 had been saved from that fierce storm, and I saw them 
 increase and multiply until four thousand couples lived and 
 laughed and were riotous in the sun, for the people of Nemed 
 had small minds but great activity. They were savage 
 fighters and hunters. 
 
 " But one time I came, drawn by that intolerable anguish 
 
20 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP.VI 
 
 of memory, and all of these people were gone : the place 
 that knew them was silent : in the land where they had 
 moved there was nothing of them but their bones that 
 glinted in the sun. 
 
 " Old age came on me there. Among these bones 
 weariness crept into my limbs. My head grew heavy, my 
 eyes dim, my knees jerked and trembled, and there the 
 wolves dared chase me. 
 
 " I went again to the cave that had been my home when 
 I was an old man. 
 
 " One day I stole from the cave to snatch a mouthful of 
 grass, for I was closely besieged by wolves. They made 
 their rush, and I barely escaped from them. They sat 
 beyond the cave staring at me. 
 
 " 1 knew their tongue. I knew all that they said to each 
 other, and all that they said to me. But there was yet a 
 thud left in my forehead, a deadly trample in my hoof. 
 They did not dare come into the cave. 
 
 " * To-morrow/ they said, * we will tear out your 
 throat, and gnaw on your living haunch.' : 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 " THEN my soul rose to the height of Doom, and I 
 intended all that might happen to me, and agreed to it. 
 
 ' To-morrow,' I said, * I will go out among ye, and I 
 will die,' and at that the wolves howled joyfully, hungrily, 
 impatiently. 
 
 !< I slept, and I saw myself changing into a boar in 
 dream, and I felt in dream the beating of a new heart within 
 me, and in dream I stretched my powerful neck and braced 
 my eager limbs. I awoke from my dream, and I was that 
 which I had dreamed. 
 
 " The night wore away, the darkness lifted, the day 
 came ; and from without the cave the wolves called to me : 
 
 " ' Come out, O Skinny Stag. Come out and die.' 
 
 " And I, with joyful heart, thrust a black bristle through 
 the hole of the cave, and when they saw that wriggling 
 snout, those curving tusks, that red fierce eye, the wolves 
 fled yelping, tumbling over each other, frantic with terror ; 
 and I behind them, a wild-cat for leaping, a giant for 
 strength, a devil for ferocity ; a madness and gladness of 
 lusty unsparing life ; a killer, a champion, a boar who could 
 not be defied. 
 
 :< I took the lordship of the boars of Ireland. 
 
 * Wherever I looked among my tribes I saw love and 
 
 21 
 
22 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP.VII 
 
 obedience : whenever I appeared among the strangers they 
 fled away. Ah, the wolves feared me then, and the great, 
 grim bear went bounding on heavy paws. I charged him 
 at the head of my troop and rolled him over and over ; but 
 it is not easy to kill the bear, so deeply is his life packed 
 under that stinking pelt. He picked himself up and ran, 
 and was knocked down, and ran again blindly, butting into 
 trees and stones. Not a claw did the big bear flash, not a 
 tooth did he show, as he ran whimpering like a baby, or 
 as he stood with my nose rammed against his mouth, snarling 
 up into his nostrils. 
 
 " I challenged all that moved. All creatures but one. 
 For men had again come to Ireland. Semion, the son of 
 Stariath, with his people, from whom the men of Domnann 
 and the Fir Bolg and the Galiuin are descended. These I 
 did not chase, and when they chased me I fled. 
 
 " Often I would go, drawn by my memoried heart, to 
 look at them as they moved among their fields ; and I 
 spoke to my mind in bitterness : 
 
 " When the people of Partholon were gathered in 
 counsel my voice was heard ; it was sweet to all who heard 
 it, and the words I spoke were wise. The eyes of women 
 brightened and softened when they looked at me. They 
 loved to hear him when he sang who now wanders in the 
 forest with a tusky herd." 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 " OLD age again overtook me. Weariness stole into my 
 limbs, and anguish dozed into my mind. I went to my 
 Ulster cave and dreamed my dream, and I changed into a 
 hawk. 
 
 " I left the ground. The sweet air was my kingdom, 
 and my bright eye stared on a hundred miles. I soared, 
 I swooped ; I hung, motionless as a living stone, over the 
 abyss ; I lived in joy and slept in peace, and had my fill of 
 the sweetness of life. 
 
 " During that time Beothach, the son of larbonel the 
 Prophet, came to Ireland with his people, and there was a 
 great battle between his men and the children of Semion. 
 Long I hung over that combat, seeing every spear that 
 hurtled, every stone that whizzed from a sling, every sword 
 that flashed up and down, and the endless glittering of the 
 shields. And at the end I saw that the victory was with 
 larbonel. And from his people the Tuatha De and the 
 And& came, although their origin is forgotten, and learned 
 people, because of their excellent wisdom and intelligence, 
 say that they came from heaven. 
 
 " These are the people of Faery. All these are the gods. 
 
 " For long, long years I was a hawk. I knew every hill 
 and stream ; every field and glen of Ireland. I knew the 
 
 23 
 
24 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP.VIII 
 
 shape of cliffs and coasts, and how all places looked under 
 the sun or moon. And I was still a hawk when the sons of 
 Mil drove the Tuatha De Danann under the ground, and 
 held Ireland against arms or wizardry ; and this was the 
 coming of men and the beginning of genealogies. 
 
 " Then I grew old, and in my Ulster cave close to the 
 sea I dreamed my dream, and in it I became a salmon. 
 The green tides of Ocean rose over me and my dream, so 
 that I drowned in the sea and did not die, for I awoke in 
 deep waters, and I was that which I dreamed. 
 
 " I had been a man, a stag, a boar, a bird, and now I 
 was a fish. In all my changes I had joy and fulness of life. 
 But in the water joy lay deeper, life pulsed deeper. For 
 on land or air there is always something excessive and 
 hindering ; as arms that swing at the sides of a man, and 
 which the mind must remember. The stag has legs to be 
 tucked away for sleep, and untucked for movement ; and 
 the bird has wings that must be folded and pecked and 
 cared for. But the fish has but one piece from his nose to 
 his tail. He is complete, single and unencumbered. He 
 turns in one turn, and goes up and down and round in 
 one sole movement. 
 
 " How I flew through the soft element : how I joyed 
 in the country where there is no harshness : in the element 
 which upholds and gives way ; which caresses and lets go, 
 and will not let you fall. For man may stumble in a furrow ; 
 the stag tumble from a cliff ; the hawk, wing-weary and 
 beaten, with darkness around him and the storm behind, 
 may dash his brains against a tree. But the home of the 
 salmon is his delight, and the sea guards all her creatures." 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 " I BECAME the king of the salmon, and, with my multitudes, 
 I ranged on the tides of the world. Green and purple 
 distances were under me : green and gold the sunlit regions 
 above. In these latitudes I moved through a world of 
 amber, myself amber and gold ; in those others, in a sparkle 
 of lucent blue, I curved, lit like a living jewel : and in 
 these again, through dusks of ebony all mazed with silver, 
 I shot and shone, die wonder of the sea. 
 
 " I saw the monsters of the uttermost ocean go heaving 
 t>y ; and the long lithe brutes that are toothed to their 
 tails : and below, where gloom dipped down on gloom, 
 vast, livid tangles that coiled and uncoiled, and lapsed down 
 steeps and hells of the sea where even the salmon could 
 not go. 
 
 " I knew the sea. I knew the secret caves where ocean 
 roars to ocean ; the floods that are icy cold, from which the 
 nose of a salmon leaps back as at a sting ; and the warm 
 streams in which we rocked and dozed and were carried 
 forward without motion. I swam on the outermost rim of 
 the great world, where nothing was but the sea and the sky 
 and the salmon ; where even the wind was silent, and the 
 water was clear as clean grey rock. 
 
 " And then, far away in the sea, I remembered Ulster, 
 
 25 
 
26 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, ix 
 
 and there came on me an instant, uncontrollable anguish to 
 be there. I turned, and through days and nights I swam 
 tirelessly, jubilantly ; with terror wakening in me, too, and 
 a whisper through my being that I must reach Ireland 
 or die. 
 
 " I fought my way to Ulster from the sea. 
 
 " Ah, how that end of the journey was hard ! A 
 sickness was racking in every one of my bones, a languor 
 and weariness creeping through my every fibre and muscle. 
 The waves held me back and held me back ; the soft waters 
 seemed to have grown hard ; and it was as though I were 
 urging through a rock as I strained towards Ulster from 
 the sea. 
 
 " So tired I was ! I could have loosened my frame and 
 been swept away ; I could have slept and been drifted and 
 wafted away ; swinging on grey-green billows that had 
 turned from the land and were heaving and mounting and 
 surging to the far blue water. 
 
 " Only the unconquerable heart of the salmon could 
 brave that end of toil. The sound of the rivers of Ireland 
 racing down to the sea came to me in the last numb effort : 
 the love of Ireland bore me up : the gods of the rivers trod 
 to me in the white-curled breakers, so that I left the sea at 
 long, long last ; and I lay in sweet water in the curve of a 
 crannied rock, exhausted, three parts dead, triumphant." 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 " DELIGHT and strength came to me again, and now I 
 explored all the inland ways, the great lakes of Ireland, and 
 her swift brown rivers. 
 
 " What a joy to lie under an inch of water basking in 
 the sun, or beneath a shady ledge to watch the small 
 creatures that speed like lightning on the rippling top. I 
 saw the dragon-flies flash and dart and turn, with a poise, 
 with a speed that no other winged thing knows : I saw the 
 hawk hover and stare and swoop : he fell like a falling 
 stone, but he could not catch the king of the salmon : I 
 saw the cold-eyed cat stretching along a bough level with 
 the water, eager to hook and lift the creatures of the river. 
 And I saw men. 
 
 " They saw me also. They came to know me and look 
 for me. They lay in wait at the waterfalls up which I 
 leaped like a silver flash. They held out nets for me ; 
 they hid traps under leaves ; they made cords of the colour 
 of water, of the colour of weeds but this salmon had a 
 nose that knew how a weed felt and how a string they 
 drifted meat on a sightless string, but I knew of the hook ; 
 they thrust spears at me, and threw lances which they drew 
 back again with a cord. 
 
 27 
 
28 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP.X 
 
 "Many a wound I got from men, many a sorrowful 
 scar. 
 
 " Every beast pursued me in the waters and along the 
 banks ; the barking, black-skinned otter came after me in 
 lust and gust and swirl ; the wild-cat fished for me ; the 
 hawk and the steep-winged, spear-beaked birds dived down 
 on me, and men crept on me with nets the width of a river, 
 so that I got no rest. My life became a ceaseless scurry and 
 wound and escape, a burden and anguish of watchfulness 
 and then I was caught." 
 

My life became a ceaseless scurry and wound and escape, a burden and anguish 
 
 of watchfulness." 
 
 To face page 28. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 ' THE fisherman of Cairill, the King of Ulster, took me in 
 his net. Ah, that was a happy man when he saw me ! He 
 shouted for joy when he saw the great salmon in his net. 
 
 * I was still in the water as he hauled delicately. I was 
 still in the water as he pulled me to the bank. My nose 
 touched air and spun from it as from fire, and I dived with 
 
 29 
 
3 o IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 all my might against the bottom of the net, holding yet to 
 the water, loving it, mad with terror that I must quit that 
 loveliness. But the net held and I came up. 
 
 " ' Be quiet, King of the River,' said the fisherman, 
 ' give in to Doom,' said he. 
 
 " I was in air, and it was as though I were in fire. The 
 air pressed on me like a fiery mountain. It beat on my 
 scales and scorched them. It rushed down my throat and 
 scalded me. It weighed on me and squeezed me, so that 
 my eyes felt as though they must burst from my head, 
 my head as though it would leap from my body, and my 
 body as though it would swell and expand and fly in a 
 thousand pieces. 
 
 " The light blinded me, the heat tormented me, the 
 dry air made me shrivel and gasp ; and, as he lay on the 
 grass the great salmon whirled his desperate nose once more 
 to the river, and leaped, leaped, leaped, even under the 
 mountain of air. He could leap upwards, but not forwards, 
 and yet he leaped, for in each rise he could see the twinkling 
 waves, the rippling and curling waters. 
 
 " * Be at ease, O King/ said the fisherman. ' Be at 
 rest, my beloved. Let go the stream. Let the oozy marge 
 be forgotten, and the sandy bed where the shades dance all 
 in green and gloom, and the brown flood sings along.' 
 
 " And as he carried me to the palace he sang a song of 
 the river, and a song of Doom, and a song in praise of the 
 King of the Waters. 
 
 " When the king's wife saw me she desired me. I was 
 put over a fire and roasted, and she ate me. And when 
 time passed she gave birth to me, and I was her son and the 
 son of Cairill the king. I remember warmth and darkness 
 and movement and unseen sounds. All that happened I 
 
xi THE STORY OF TUAN MAC CAIRILL 31 
 
 remember, from the time I was on the gridiron until the 
 time I was born. I forget nothing of these things." 
 
 " And now," said Finnian, " you will be born again, for 
 I shall baptize you into the family of the Living God." 
 *. 
 
 So far the story of Tuan the son of Cairill. 
 
 No man knows if he died in those distant ages when 
 Finnian was Abbot of Moville, or if he still keeps his fort 
 in Ulster, watching all things, and remembering them for 
 the glory of God and the honour of Ireland, 
 
He was a king, a seer and a poet. He was a lord with a manifold and 
 great tram. He was our magician, our knowledgeable one, our soothsayer. 
 All that he did was sweet with him. And, however ye deem my testimony 
 of Fionn excessive, and, although ye hold my praising overstrained, never- 
 theless, and by the King that is above me, he was three times better than all 
 I say. SAINT PATRICK. 
 
 33 
 
THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN 
 
 35 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 FIONN 1 got his first training among women. There is no 
 wonder in that, for it is the pup's mother teaches it to fight, 
 and women know that fighting is a necessary art although 
 men pretend there are others that are better. These were 
 the women druids, Bovmall and Lia Luachra. 
 
 It will be wondered why his own mother did not train 
 him in the first natural savageries of existence, but she could 
 not do it. She could not keep him with her for dread of 
 the clann-Morna. The sons of Morna had been fighting and 
 intriguing for a long time to oust her husband, Uail, from 
 the captaincy of the Fianna of Ireland, and they had ousted 
 him at last by killing him. It was the only way they could 
 ,get rid of such a man ; but it was not an easy way, for what 
 Fionn's father did not know in arms could not be taught to 
 him even by Morna. Still, the hound that can wait will 
 catch a hare at last, and even Manandnn sleeps. 
 
 Fionn's mother was beautiful, long-haired Muirne : so 
 
 1 Pronounce Fewn to rhyme with " tune." 
 37 
 
38 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 she is always referred to. She was the daughter of Teigue, 
 the son of Nuada from Faery, and her mother was Ethlinn. 
 That is, her brother was Lugh of the Long Hand himself, 
 and with a god, and such a god, for brother we may marvel 
 that she could have been in dread of Morna or his sons, 
 or of any one. But women have strange loves, strange fears, 
 and these are so bound up with one another that the thing 
 which is presented to us is not often the thing that is to be 
 seen. 
 
 However it may be, when Uail died Muirne got married 
 again to the King of Kerry. She gave the child to Bovmall 
 and Lia Luachra to rear, and we may be sure that she gave 
 injunctions with him, and many of them. The youngster 
 was brought to the woods of Slieve Bloom and was nursed 
 there in secret. 
 
 It is likely the women were fond of him, for other than 
 Fionn there was no life about them. He would be their 
 life ; and their eyes may have seemed as twin benedictions 
 resting on the small fair head. He was fair-haired, and it 
 was for his fairness that he was afterwards called Fionn ; 
 but at this period he was known as Deimne. They saw 
 the food they put into his little frame reproduce itself 
 lengthways and sideways in tough inches, and in springs 
 and energies that crawled at first, and then toddled, and then 
 ran. He had birds for playmates, but all the creatures that 
 live in a wood must have been his comrades. There would 
 have been for little Fionn long hours of lonely sunshine, 
 when the world seemed just sunshine and a sky. There 
 would have been hours as long, when existence passed like 
 a shade among shadows, in the multitudinous tappings of 
 rain that dripped from leaf to leaf in the wood, and slipped 
 so to the ground. He would have known little snaky paths, 
 
THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN 
 
 39 
 
 narrow enough to be filled by his own small feet, or a goat's ; 
 and he would have wondered where they went, and have 
 marvelled again to find that, wherever they went, they came 
 at last, through loops and twists of the branchy wood, to 
 
 his own door. He may have thought of his own door as the 
 beginning and end of the world, whence all things went, 
 and whither all things came. 
 
 Perhaps he did not see the lark for a long time, but 
 he would have heard him, far out of sight in the endless 
 sky, thrilling and thrilling until the world seemed to have 
 no other sound but that clear sweetness ; and what a 
 
40 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP.I 
 
 world it was to make that sound ! Whistles and chirps ; 
 cooes and caws and croaks, would have grown familiar 
 to him. And he could at last have told which brother 
 of the great brotherhood was making the noise he 
 heard at any moment. The wind too : he would have 
 listened to its thousand voices as it moved in all seasons 
 and in all moods. Perhaps a horse would stray into the 
 thick screen about his home, and would look as solemnly 
 on Fionn as Fionn did on it. Or, coming suddenly on him, 
 the horse might stare, all a-cock with eyes and ears and nose, 
 one long-drawn facial extension, ere he turned and bounded 
 away with manes all over him and hoofs all under him and 
 tails all round him. A solemn-nosed, stern-eyed cow would 
 amble and stamp in his wood to find a flyless shadow ; or a 
 strayed sheep would poke its gentle muzzle through leaves. 
 
 " A boy," he might think, as he stared on a staring 
 horse, " a boy cannot wag his tail to keep the flies off," and 
 that lack may have saddened him. He may have thought 
 that a cow can snort and be dignified at the one moment, 
 and that timidity is comely in a sheep. He would have 
 scolded the jackdaw, and tried to out-whistle the throstle, and 
 wondered why his pipe got tired when the blackbird's didn't. 
 
 There would be flies to be watched, slender atoms in 
 yellow gauze that flew, and filmy specks that flittered, and 
 sturdy, thick-ribbed brutes that pounced like cats and bit 
 like dogs and flew like lightning. He may have mourned 
 for the spider in bad-luck who caught that fly. 
 
 There would be much to see and remember and compare, 
 and there would be, always, his two guardians. The flies 
 change from second to second ; one cannot tell if this bird 
 is a visitor or an inhabitant, and a sheep is just sister to a 
 sheep ; but the women were as rooted as the house itself. 
 
He might think, as he stared on a staring horse, "a boy cannot wag his tail to 
 
 keep the flies off." 
 
 To face page 40. 
 

 
 1 
 
 V 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 WERE his nurses comely or harsh -looking? Fionn would 
 not know. This was the one who picked him up when he 
 fell, and that was the one who patted the bruise. This 
 one said : 
 
 " Mind you do not tumble in the well ! " 
 
 And that one : 
 
 " Mind the little knees among the nettles." 
 
 But he did tumble and record that the only notable 
 thing about a well is that it is wet. And as for nettles, if 
 they hit him he hit back. He slashed into them with a 
 stick and brought them low. 
 
 There was nothing in wells or nettles, only women 
 dreaded them. One patronised women and instructed 
 them and comforted them, for they were afraid about 
 one. 
 
 They thought that one should not climb a tree ! 
 
 " Next week," they said at last, " you may climb this 
 one," and " next week " lived at the end of the world ! 
 
 But the tree that was climbed was not worth while when 
 it had been climbed twice. There was a bigger one near 
 by. There were trees that no one could climb, with vast 
 shadow on one side and vaster sunshine on the other. It 
 
 41 
 
42 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 took a long time to walk round them, and you could not see 
 their tops. 
 
 It was pleasant to stand on a branch that swayed and 
 sprang, and it was good to stare at an impenetrable roof 
 of leaves and then climb into it. How wonderful the loneli- 
 ness was up there ! When he looked down there was an 
 undulating floor of leaves, green and green and greener to 
 a very blackness of greeniness ; and when he looked up 
 there were leaves again, green and less green and not green 
 at all, up to a very snow and blindness of greeniness ; and 
 above and below and around there was sway and motion, 
 the whisper of leaf on leaf, and the eternal silence to which 
 one listened and at which one tried to look. 
 
 When he was six years of age his mother, beautiful, 
 long-haired Muirne, came to see him. She came secretly, 
 for she feared the sons of Morna, and she had paced 
 through lonely places in many counties before she reached 
 the hut in the wood, and the cot where he lay with his fists 
 shut and sleep gripped in them. 
 
 He awakened to be sure. He would have one ear that 
 would catch an unusual voice, one eye that would open, 
 however sleepy the other one was. She took him in her 
 arms and kissed him, and she sang a sleepy song until the 
 small boy slept again. 
 
 We may be sure that the eye that could stay open 
 stayed open that night as long as it could, and that the 
 one ear listened to the sleepy song until the song got too 
 low to be heard, until it was too tender to be felt vibrating 
 along those soft arms, until Fionn was asleep again, with a 
 new picture in his little head and a new notion to ponder on. 
 
 The mother of himself ! His own mother ! 
 
 But when he awakened she was gone. 
 
ii THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN 43 
 
 She was going back secretly, in dread of the sons of 
 Morna, slipping through gloomy woods, keeping away 
 from habitations, getting by desolate and lonely ways to 
 her lord in Kerry. 
 
 Perhaps it was he that was afraid of the sons of Morna, 
 and perhaps she loved him. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 THE women druids, his guardians, belonged to his father's 
 people. Bovmall was Uail's sister, and, consequently, 
 Fionn's aunt. Only such a blood-tie could have bound 
 them to the clann-Baiscne, for it is not easy, having moved 
 in the world of court and camp, to go hide with a baby in 
 a wood ; and to live, as they must have lived, in terror. 
 
 What stories they would have told the child of the sons 
 of Morna. Of Morna himself, the huge-shouldered, stern- 
 eyed, violent Connachtman ; and of his sons young Goll 
 Mor mac Morna in particular, as huge-shouldered as his 
 father, as fierce in the onset, but merry-eyed when the 
 other was grim, and bubbling with a laughter that made 
 men forgive even his butcheries. Of Conan Mael mac 
 Morna his brother, gruff as a badger, bearded like a boar, 
 bald as a crow, and with a tongue that could manage an 
 insult where another man would not find even a stammer. 
 His boast was that when he saw an open door he went into it, 
 and when he saw a closed door he went into it. When he saw 
 a peaceful man he insulted him, and when he met a man who 
 was not peaceful he insulted him. There was Garra Duv 
 mac Morna, and savage Art Og, who cared as little for their 
 own skins as they did for the next man's, and Garra must 
 have been rough indeed to have earned in that clan the 
 
CHAP, in THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN 45 
 
 name of the Rough mac Morna. There were others : wild 
 Connachtmen all, as untamable, as unaccountable as their 
 own wonderful countryside. 
 
 Fionn would have heard much of them, and it is likely 
 that he practised on a nettle at taking the head off Golf, 
 and that he hunted a sheep from cover in the implacable 
 manner he intended later on for Condn the Swearer. 
 
 But it is of Uail mac Baiscne he would have heard most. 
 
 With what a dilation of spirit the ladies would have told 
 tales of him, Fionn's father. How their voices would have 
 become a chant as feat was added to feat, glory piled on 
 glory. The most famous of men and the most beautiful ; 
 the hardest fighter ; the easiest giver ; the kingly champion ; 
 the chief of the Fianna na h-Eirinn. Tales of how he had 
 been waylaid and got free ; of how he had been generous 
 and got free ; of how he had been angry and went marching 
 with the speed of an eagle and the direct onfall of a storm ; 
 while in front and at the sides, angled from the prow of his 
 terrific advance, were fleeing multitudes who did not dare 
 to wait and scarce had time to run. And of how at last, 
 when the time came to quell him, nothing less than the 
 whole might of Ireland was sufficient for that great downfall. 
 We may be sure that on these adventures Fionn was 
 with his father, going step for step with the long-striding 
 hero, and heartening him mightily. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 HE was given good training by the women in running and 
 leaping and swimming. 
 
 One of them would take a thorn switch in her hand, 
 and Fionn would take a thorn switch in his hand, and each 
 would try to strike the other running round a tree. 
 
 You had to go fast to keep away from the switch behind, 
 and a small boy feels a switch. Fionn would run his best 
 to get away from that prickly stinger, but how he would 
 run when it was his turn to deal the strokes ! 
 
 With reason too, for his nurses had suddenly grown 
 implacable. They pursued him with a savagery which he 
 could not distinguish from hatred, and they swished him 
 well whenever they got the chance. 
 
 Fionn learned to run. After a while he could buzz 
 around a tree like a maddened fly, and oh, the joy, when 
 he felt himself drawing from the switch and gaining from 
 behind on its bearer ! How he strained and panted to catch 
 on that pursuing person and pursue her and get his own 
 switch into action. 
 
 He learned to jump by chasing hares in a bumpy field. 
 Up went the hare and up went Fionn, and away with the 
 two of them, hopping and popping across the field. If 
 the hare turned while Fionn was after her it was switch 
 
 46 
 

 How he strained and panted to catch on that pursuing person and pursue her and 
 get his own switch into action. 
 
 To face page 46. 
 
CHAP, iv THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN 47 
 
 for Fionn ; so that in a while it did not matter to Fionn 
 which way the hare jumped, for he could jump that way 
 too. Longways, sideways, or baw-ways, Fionn hopped 
 where the hare hopped, and at last he was the owner of a 
 hop that any hare would give an ear for. 
 
 He was taught to swim, and it may be that his heart 
 sank when he fronted the lesson. The water was cold. 
 It was deep. One could see the bottom, leagues below, 
 millions of miles below. A small boy might shiver as he 
 stared into that wink and blink and twink of brown pebbles 
 and murder. And these implacable women threw him in ! 
 
 Perhaps he would not go in at first. He may have 
 smiled at them, and coaxed, and hung back. It was a 
 leg and an arm gripped then ; a swing for Fionn, and out 
 and away with him ; plop and flop for him ; down into 
 chill deep death for him, and up with a splutter ; with 
 a sob ; with a grasp at everything that caught nothing ; 
 with a wild flurry ; with a raging despair ; with a bubble 
 and snort as he was hauled again down, and down, and down, 
 and found as suddenly that he had been hauled out. 
 
 Fionn learned to swim until he could pop into the 
 water like an otter and slide through it like an eel. 
 
 He used to try to chase a fish the way he chased hares 
 in the bumpy field but there are terrible spurts in a fish. 
 It may be that a fish cannot hop, but he gets there in a flash, 
 and he isn't there in another. Up or down, sideways or 
 endways, it is all one to a fish. He goes and is gone. He 
 twists this way and disappears the other way. He is over 
 you when he ought to be under you, and he is biting your 
 toe when you thought you were biting his tail. 
 
 You cannot catch a fish by swimming, but you can 
 try, and Fionn tried. He got a grudging commendation 
 
48 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, iv 
 
 from the terrible women when he was able to slip noise- 
 lessly in the tide, swim under water to where a wild duck 
 was floating, and grip it by the leg. 
 
 " Qu ," said the duck, and he disappeared before he 
 had time to get the " -ack " out of him. 
 
 So the time went, and Fionn grew long and straight 
 and tough like a sapling ; limber as a willow, and with the 
 flirt and spring of a young bird. One of the ladies may 
 have said " He is shaping very well, my dear," and the 
 other replied, as is the morose privilege of an aunt, " He 
 will never be as good as his father/' but their hearts must 
 have overflowed in the night, in the silence, in the dark- 
 ness, when they thought of the living swiftness they had 
 fashioned, and that dear fair head. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 ONE day his guardians were agitated : they held confabula- 
 tions at which Fionn was not permitted to assist. A man 
 who passed by in the morning had spoken to them. They 
 fed the man, and during his feeding Fionn had been 
 shooed from the door as if he were a chicken. When the 
 stranger took his road the women went with him a short 
 distance. As they passed the man lifted a hand and bent 
 a knee to Fionn. 
 
 " My soul to you, young master," he said, and as he 
 said it, Fionn knew that he could have the man's soul, or 
 his boots, or his feet, or anything that belonged to him. 
 
 When the women returned they were mysterious and 
 whispery. They chased Fionn into the house, and when 
 they got him in they chased him out again. They chased 
 each other around the house for another whisper. They 
 calculated things by the shape of clouds, by lengths of 
 
 (shadows, by the flight of birds, by two flies racing on a 
 flat stone, by throwing bones over their left shoulders, 
 1 and by every kind of trick and game and chance that you 
 could put a mind to. 
 
 They told Fionn he must sleep in a tree that night, and 
 they put him under bonds not to sing or whistle or cough 
 or sneeze until the morning. 
 
 49 E 
 
50 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 Fionn did sneeze. He never sneezed so much in his 
 life. He sat up in his tree and nearly sneezed himself 
 out of it. Flies got up his nose, two at a time, one up each 
 nose, and his head nearly fell off the way he sneezed. 
 
 " You are doing that on purpose," said a savage whisper 
 from the foot of the tree. 
 
 But Fionn was not doing it on purpose. He tucked 
 himself into a fork the way he had been taught, and he 
 passed the crawliest, tickliest night he had ever known. 
 After a while he did not want to sneeze, he wanted to 
 scream : and in particular he wanted to come down from 
 the tree. But he did not scream, nor did he leave the tree. 
 His word was passed, and he stayed in his tree as silent as 
 a mouse and as watchful, until he fell out of it. 
 
 In the morning a band of travelling poets were passing, 
 and the women handed Fionn over to them. This time 
 they could not prevent him overhearing. 
 
 " The sons of Morna ! " they said. 
 
 And Fionn's heart might have swelled with rage, but 
 that it was already swollen with adventure. And also 
 the expected was happening. Behind every hour of their 
 day and every moment of their lives lay the sons of Morna. 
 Fionn had run after them as deer : he jumped after them as 
 hares : he dived after them as fish. They lived in the house 
 with him : they sat at the table and ate his meat. One 
 dreamed of them, and they were expected in the morning 
 as the sun is. They knew only too well that the son of 
 Uail was living, and they knew that their own sons would 
 know no ease while that son lived ; for they believed in 
 those days that like breeds like, and that the son of Uail 
 would be Uail with additions. 
 
 His guardians knew that their hiding-place must at 
 
v THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN 51 
 
 last be discovered, and that, when it was found, the sons 
 of Morna would come. They had no doubt of that, and 
 every action of their lives was based on that certainty. 
 For no secret can remain secret. Some broken soldier 
 tramping home to his people will find it out ; a herd seeking 
 his strayed cattle or a band of travelling musicians will 
 get the wind of it. How many people will move through 
 even the remotest wood in a year ! The crows will tell 
 a secret if no one else does ; and under a bush, behind a 
 clump of bracken, what eyes may there not be ! But if 
 your secret is legged like a young goat ! If it is tongued 
 like a wolf ! One can hide a baby, but you cannot hide 
 a boy. He will rove unless you tie him to a post, and he will 
 whistle then. 
 
 The sons of Morna came, but there were only two grim 
 women living in a lonely hut to greet them. We may be 
 sure they were well greeted. One can imagine Coil's 
 merry stare taking in all that could be seen ; Condn's 
 grim eye raking the women's faces while his tongue raked 
 them again ; the Rough mac Morna shouldering here 
 and there in the house and about it, with maybe a hatchet 
 in his hand, and Art Og coursing farther afield and vowing 
 that if the cub was there he would find him. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 BUT Fionn was gone. He was away, bound with his band 
 of poets for the Galtees. 
 
 It is likely they were junior poets come to the end of 
 a year's training, and returning to their own province to 
 see again the people at home, and to be wondered at and 
 exclaimed at as they exhibited bits of the knowledge which 
 they had brought from the great schools. They would 
 know tags of rhyme and tricks about learning which Fionn 
 would hear of ; and now and again, as they rested in a glade 
 or by the brink of a river, they might try their lessons over. 
 They might even refer to the ogham wands on which the 
 first words of their tasks and the opening lines of poems 
 were cut ; and it is likely that, being new to these things, 
 they would talk of them to a youngster, and, thinking that 
 his wits could be no better than their own, they might have 
 explained to him how ogham was written. But it is far 
 more likely that his women guardians had already started 
 him at those lessons. 
 
 Still this band of young bards would have been of 
 infinite interest to Fionn, not on account of what they had 
 learned, but because of what they knew. All the things that 
 he should have known as by nature : the look, the movement, 
 the feeling of crowds ; the shouldering and intercourse of 
 
 52 
 
CHAP, vi THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN 53 
 
 man with man ; the clustering of houses and how people 
 bore themselves in and about them ; the movement of 
 armed men, and the homecoming look of wounds ; tales 
 of births, and marriages, and deaths ; the chase with its 
 multitudes of men and dogs ; all the noise, the dust, 
 the excitement of mere living. These, to Fionn, new 
 come from leaves and shadows and the dipple and 
 dapple of a wood, would have seemed wonderful ; and 
 the tales they would have told of their masters, their 
 looks, fads, severities, sillinesses, would have been wonder- 
 ful also. 
 
 That band should have chattered like a rookery. 
 
 They must have been young, for one time a Leinsterman 
 came on them, a great robber named Fiacuil mac Cona, 
 and he killed the poets. He chopped them up and chopped 
 them down. He did not leave one poeteen of them all. 
 He put them out of the world and out of life, so that they 
 stopped being, and no one could tell where they went 
 or what had really happened to them ; and it is a wonder 
 indeed that one can do that to anything let alone a band. 
 If they were not youngsters, the bold Fiacuil could not 
 have managed them all. Or, perhaps, he too had a band, 
 although the record does not^ say so ; but kill them he did, 
 and they died that way. 
 
 Fionn saw that deed, and his blood may have been cold 
 enough as he watched the great robber coursing the poets 
 as a wild dog rages in a flock. And when his turn came, 
 when they were all dead, and the grim, red-handed man 
 trod at him, Fionn may have shivered, but he would have 
 shown his teeth and laid roundly on the monster with his 
 hands. Perhaps he did that, and perhaps for that he was 
 spared. 
 
54 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, vi 
 
 " Who are you ? " roared the staring black-mouth with 
 tne red tongue squirming in it like a frisky fish. 
 
 " The son of Uail, son of Baiscne," quoth hardy Fionn. 
 
 And at that the robber ceased to be a robber, the 
 murderer disappeared, the black-rimmed chasm packed with 
 red fish and precipices changed to something else, and the 
 round eyes that had been popping out of their sockets and 
 trying to bite, changed also. There remained a laughing 
 and crying and loving servant who wanted to tie himself 
 into knots if that would please the son of his great captain. 
 Fionn went home on the robber's shoulder, and the robber 
 
 fave great snorts and made great jumps and behaved like a 
 rst-rate horse. For this same Fiacuil was the husband of 
 Bovmall, Fionn 's aunt. He had taken to the wilds when 
 clann-Baiscne was broken, and he was at war with a world 
 that had dared to kill his Chief. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 A NEW life for Fionn in the robber's den that was hidden 
 in a vast cold marsh. 
 
 A tricky place that would be, with sudden exits and 
 even suddener entrances, and with damp, winding, spidery 
 places to hoard treasure in, or to hide oneself in. 
 
 If the robber was a solitary he would, for lack of some 
 one else, have talked greatly to Fionn. He would have 
 shown his weapons and demonstrated how he used them, 
 and with what slash he chipped his victim, and with what 
 slice he chopped him. He would have told why a slash 
 was enough for this man and why that man should be 
 sliced. All men are masters when one is young, and Fionn 
 would have found knowledge here also. He would have 
 seen Fiacuil's great spear. that had thirty rivets of Arabian 
 gold in its socket, and that had to be kept wrapped 
 up and tied down so that it would not kill people out 
 of mere spitefulness. It had come from Faery, out of 
 the Shf of Aillen mac Midna, and it would be brought 
 back again later on between the same man's shoulder- 
 blades. 
 
 What tales that man could tell a boy, and what questions 
 a boy could ask him. He would have known a thousand 
 tricks, and because our instinct is to teach, and because 
 
 55 
 
56 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 no man can keep a trick from a boy, he would show them 
 to Fionn. 
 
 There was the marsh too ; a whole new life to be learned ; 
 a complicated, mysterious, dank, slippery, reedy, treacherous 
 life, but with its own beauty and an allurement that could 
 grow on one, so that you could forget the solid world and 
 love only that which quaked and gurgled. 
 
 In this place you may swim. By this sign and this you 
 will know if it is safe to do so, said Fiacuil mac Cona ; but 
 in this place, with this sign on it and that, you must not 
 venture a toe. 
 
 But where Fionn would venture his toes his ears would 
 follow. 
 
 There are coiling weeds down there, the robber coun- 
 selled him ; there are thin, tough, snaky binders that will 
 trip you and grip you, that will pull you and will not let 
 you go again until you are drowned ; until you are swaying 
 and swinging away below, with outstretched arms, with 
 outstretched legs, with a face all stares and smiles and 
 jockeyings, gripped in those leathery arms, until there is no 
 more to be gripped of you even by them. 
 
 " Watch these and this and that," Fionn would have 
 been told, " and always swim with a knife in your 
 teeth." 
 
 He lived there until his guardians found out where he 
 was and came after him. Fiacuil gave him up to them, 
 and he was brought home again to the woods of Slieve 
 Bloom, but he had gathered great knowledge and new 
 supplenesses. 
 
 The sons of Morna left him alone for a long time. 
 Having made their essay they grew careless. 
 
vii THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN 57 
 
 ' Let him be," they said. :< He will come to us when 
 the time comes." 
 
 But it is likely too that they had had their own means 
 of getting information about him. How he shaped ? 
 what muscles he had ? and did he spring clean from the 
 mark or had he to get off with a push ? 
 
 Fionn stayed with his guardians and hunted for them. 
 He could run a deer down and haul it home by the reluctant 
 skull. " Come on, Goll," he would say to his stag, or, 
 lifting it over a tussock with a tough grip on the snout, 
 " Are you coming, bald Conan, or shall I kick you in the 
 neck?" 
 
 The time must have been nigh when he would think 
 of taking the world itself by the nose, to haul it over tussocks 
 and drag it into his pen ; for he was of the breed in whom 
 mastery is born, and who are good masters. 
 
 But reports of his prowess were getting abroad. Clann- 
 Morna began to stretch itself uneasily, and, one day, his 
 guardians sent him on his travels. 
 
 " It is best for you to leave us now," they said to the 
 tall stripling, " for the sons of Morna are watching again 
 to kill you." 
 
 The woods at that may have seemed haunted. A stone 
 might sling at one from a tree-top ; but from which tree of 
 a thousand trees did it come ? An arrow buzzing by one's 
 ear would slide into the ground and quiver there silently, 
 menacingly, hinting of the brothers it had left in the quiver 
 behind ; to the right ? to the left ? how many brothers ? in 
 how many quivers . . . ? Fionn was a woodsman, but he 
 had only two eyes to look with, one set of feet to carry him 
 in one sole direction. But when he was looking to the front, 
 what, or how many whats, could be staring at him from the 
 
58 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, vn 
 
 back ? He might face in this direction, away from, or 
 towards a smile on a hidden face and a finger on a string. 
 A lance might slide at him from this bush or from the one 
 yonder. ... In the night he might have fought them ; his 
 ears against theirs ; his noiseless feet against their lurking 
 ones ; his knowledge of the wood against their legion : 
 but during the day he had no chance. 
 
 Fionn went to seek his fortune, to match himself against 
 all that might happen, and to carve a name for himself 
 that will live while Time has an ear and knows an Irishman. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 FIONN went away, and now he was alone. But he was as 
 fitted for loneliness as the crane is that haunts the solitudes 
 and bleak wastes of the sea ; for the man with a thought 
 has a comrade, and Fionn's mind worked as featly as his 
 body did. To be alone was no trouble to him who, however 
 surrounded, was to be lonely his life long ; for this will 
 be said of Fionn when all is said, that all that came to him 
 went from him, and that happiness was never his companion 
 for more than a moment. 
 
 But he was not now looking for loneliness. He was 
 seeking the instruction of a crowd, and therefore when he 
 met a crowd he went into it. His eyes were skilled to 
 observe in the moving dusk and dapple of green woods. 
 They were trained to pick out of shadows birds that were 
 themselves dun-coloured shades, and to see among trees 
 the animals that are coloured like the bark of trees. The 
 .hare crouching in the fronds was visible to him, and the 
 fish that swayed invisibly in the sway and flicker of a green 
 bank. He would see all that was to be seen, and he would 
 see all that is passed by the eye that is half blind from use 
 and wont. 
 
 At Moy Life* he came on lads swimming in a pool ; and, 
 
 59 
 
f 
 
 60 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 as he looked on them sporting in the flush tide, he thought 
 that the tricks they performed were not hard for him, and 
 that he could have shown them new ones. 
 
 Boys must know what another boy can do, and they 
 will match themselves against everything. They did their 
 best under these observing eyes, and it was not long until 
 he was invited to compete with them and show his mettle. 
 Such an invitation is a challenge ; it is almost, among boys, 
 a declaration of war. But Fionn was so far beyond them 
 in swimming that even the word master did not apply to 
 that superiority. 
 
 While he was swimming one remarked : " He is fair 
 and well shaped," and thereafter he was called " Fionn " 
 or the Fair One. His name came from boys, and will, 
 perhaps, be preserved by them. 
 
 He stayed with these lads for some time, and it may be 
 that they idolised him at first, for it is the way with boys 
 to be astounded and enraptured by feats ; but in the end, 
 and that was inevitable, they grew jealous of the stranger. 
 Those who had been the champions before he came would 
 marshal each other, and, by social pressure, would muster 
 all the others against him ; so that in the end not a friendly 
 eye was turned on Fionn in that assembly. For not only 
 did he beat them at swimming, he beat their best at running 
 and jumping, and when the sport degenerated into violence, 
 as it was bound to, the roughness of Fionn would be ten 
 times as rough as the roughness of the roughest rough they 
 could put forward. Bravery is pride when one is young, 
 and Fionn was proud. 
 
 There must have been anger in his mind as he went 
 away leaving that lake behind him, and those snarling and 
 scowling boys, but there would have been disappointment 
 
viii THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN 61 
 
 also, for his desire at this time should have been towards 
 friendliness. 
 
 He went thence to Lock Lein and took service with 
 the King of Finntraigh. That kingdom may have been 
 thus called from Fionn himself and would have been known 
 by another name when he arrived there. 
 
 He hunted for the King of Finntraigh, and it soon 
 grew evident that there was no hunter in his service to equal 
 Fionn. More, there was no hunter of them all who even 
 distantly approached him in excellence. The others ran 
 after deer, using the speed of their legs, the noses of their 
 dogs, and a thousand well-worn tricks to bring them within 
 reach, and, often enough, the animal escaped them. But 
 the deer that Fionn got the track of did not get away, 
 and it seemed even that the animals sought him, so many 
 did he catch. 
 
 The king marvelled at the stories that were told of 
 this new hunter, but as kings are greater than other people 
 so they are more curious ; and, being on the plane of excel- 
 lence, they must see all that is excellently told of. 
 
 The king wished to see him, and Fionn must have 
 wondered what the king thought as that gracious lord looked 
 on him. Whatever was thought, what the king said was 
 as direct in utterance as it was in observation. 
 
 " If Uail the son of Baiscne has a son," said the king, 
 " you would surely be that son." 
 
 We are not told if the King of Finntraigh said anything 
 'more, but we know that Fionn left his service soon after- 
 wards. 
 
 He went southwards and was next in the employment of 
 the King of Kerry, the same lord who had married his own 
 mother. In that service he came to such consideration 
 
62 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 that we hear of him as playing a match of chess with the 
 king, and by this game we know that he was still a boy 
 in his mind however mightily his limbs were spreading. 
 Able as he was in sports and huntings, he was yet too young 
 to be politic, but he remained impolitic to the end of his 
 days, for whatever he was able to do he would do, no matter 
 who was offended thereat ; and whatever he was not able 
 to do he would do also. 
 
 That was Fionn. 
 
 Once, as they rested on a chase, a debate arose among 
 the Fianna-Finn as to what was the finest music in the 
 world. 
 
 " Tell us that," said Fionn, turning to Oism. 1 
 
 " The cuckoo calling from the tree that is highest 
 in the hedge," cried his merry son. 
 
 " A good sound," said Fionn. " And you, Oscar," 
 he asked, " what is to your mind the finest of music ? " 
 
 " The top of music is the ring of a spear on a shield," 
 cried the stout lad. 
 
 " It is a good sound," said Fionn. 
 
 And the other champions told their delight : the 
 belling of a stag across water, the baying of a tuneful pack 
 heard in the distance, the song of a lark, the laugh of a 
 gleeful girl, or the whisper of a moved one. 
 
 " They are good sounds all," said Fionn. 
 
 " Tell us, chief," one ventured, " what you think ? " 
 
 " The music of what happens," said great Fionn, " that 
 is the finest music in the world." 
 
 He loved " what happened," and would not evade it by 
 the swerve of a hair ; so on this occasion what was occurring 
 he would have occur, although a king was his rival and his 
 
 1 Pronounced Usheen. 
 
viii THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN 63 
 
 master. It may be that his mother was watching the match 
 and that he could not but exhibit his skill before her. He 
 committed the enormity of winning seven games in succes- 
 sion from the king himself ! ! ! 
 
 It is seldom indeed that a subject can beat a king at 
 chess, and this monarch was properly amazed. 
 
 " Who are you at all ? " he cried, starting back from 
 the chessboard and staring on Fionn. 
 
 " I am the son of a countryman of the Luigne of Tara," 
 said Fionn. 
 
 He may have blushed as he said it, for the king, possibly 
 for the first time, was really looking at him, and was looking 
 back through twenty years of time as he did so. The 
 observation of a king is faultless it is proved a thousand 
 times over in the tales, and this king's equipment was as 
 royal as the next. 
 
 " You are no such son," said the indignant monarch, 
 " but you are the son that Muirne my wife bore to Uail 
 mac Baiscne." 
 
 And at that Fionn had no more to say ; but his eyes 
 may have flown to his mother and stayed there. 
 
 " You cannot remain here," his stepfather continued. 
 " I do not want you killed under my protection," he 
 explained, or complained. 
 
 Perhaps it was on Fionn's account he dreaded the sons 
 of Morna, but no one knows what Fionn thought of him 
 for he never thereafter spoke of his stepfather. As for 
 Muirne she must have loved her lord ; or she may have 
 been terrified in truth of the sons of Morna and for Fionn ; 
 but it is so also, that if a woman loves her second husband 
 she can dislike all that reminds her of the first one. 
 
 Fionn went on his travels again. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 ALL desires save one are fleeting, but that one lasts for ever. 
 Fionn, with all desires, had the lasting one, for he would 
 go anywhere and forsake anything for wisdom ; and it 
 was in search of this that he went to the place where Finegas 
 lived on a bank of the Boyne Water. But for dread of the 
 clann-Morna he did not go as Fionn. He called himself 
 Deimne on that journey. 
 
 We get wise by asking questions, and even if these are 
 not answered we get wise, for a well -packed question 
 carries its answer on its back as a snail carries its shell. 
 Fionn asked every question he could think of, and his 
 master, who was a poet, and so an honourable man, answered 
 them all, not to the limit of his patience, for it was limitless, 
 but to the limit of his ability. 
 
 " Why do you live on the bank of a river ? " was one of 
 these questions. 
 
 :< Because a poem is a revelation, and it is by the brink 
 of running water that poetry is revealed to the mind." 
 
 " How long have you been here ? " was the next query. 
 
 :< Seven years," the poet answered. 
 
 E< It is a long time," said wondering Fionn. 
 
 " I would wait twice as long for a poem," said the 
 inveterate bard. 
 
 6 4 
 
CHAP, ix THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN 65 
 
 " Have you caught good poems ? " Fionn asked him. 
 
 " The poems I am fit for," said the mild master. " No 
 person can get more than that, for a man's readiness is his 
 limit." 
 
 " Would you have got as good poems by the Shannon 
 or the Suir or by sweet Ana Life ? " 
 
 " They are good rivers," was the answer. " They all 
 belong to good gods." 
 
 " But why did you choose this river out of all the 
 rivers ? " 
 
 Finegas beamed on his pupil : 
 
 " I would tell you anything," said he, " and I will tell 
 you that." 
 
 Fionn sat at the kindly man's feet, his hands absent 
 among tall grasses, and listening with all his ears. 
 
 " A prophecy was made to me," Finegas began. " A 
 man of knowledge foretold that I should catch the Salmon 
 of Knowledge in the Boyne Water." 
 
 " And then ? " said Fionn eagerly. 
 
 " Then I would have All Knowledge." 
 
 " And after that ? " the boy insisted. 
 
 " What should there be after that?" the poet retorted. 
 
 " I mean, what would you do with All Knowledge ? " 
 
 " A weighty question," said Finegas smilingly. " I 
 could answer it if I had All Knowledge, but not until 
 then. What would you do, my dear ? >: 
 
 " I would make a poem," Fionn cried. 
 
 " I think too," said the poet, " that that is what would 
 be done." 
 
 In return for instruction Fionn had taken over the 
 service of his master's hut, and as he went about the house- 
 hold duties, drawing the water, lighting the fire, and carrying 
 
 F 
 
66 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 rushes for the floor and the beds, he thought over all the 
 poet had taught him, and his mind dwelt on the rules of 
 metre, the cunningness of words, and the need for a clean, 
 brave mind. But in his thousand thoughts he yet remem- 
 bered the Salmon of Knowledge as eagerly as his master 
 did. He already venerated Finegas for his great learning, 
 his poetic skill, for an hundred reasons ; but, looking 
 him as the ordained eater of the Salmon of Knowledge, h< 
 venerated him to the edge of measure. Indeed, he loved 
 as well as venerated this master because of his unfailing 
 kindness, his patience, his readiness to teach, and his skill in 
 teaching. 
 
 " I have learned much from you, dear master," said 
 Fionn gratefully. 
 
 " All that I have is yours if you can take it," the poet 
 answered, " for you are entitled to all that you can take, 
 but to no more than that. Take, so, with both hands." 
 
 " You may catch the salmon while I am with you," 
 the hopeful boy mused. " Would not that be a great 
 happening ! " and he stared in ecstasy across the grass at 
 those visions which a boy's mind knows. 
 
 * Let us pray for that," said Finegas fervently. 
 
 " Here is a question," Fionn continued. " How does 
 this salmon get wisdom into his flesh ? " 
 
 ' There is a hazel bush overhanging a secret pool in a 
 secret place. The Nuts of Knowledge drop from the 
 Sacred Bush into the pool, and as they float, a salmon takes 
 them in his mouth and eats them." 
 
 " It would be almost as easy," the boy submitted, " if 
 one were to set on the track of the Sacred Hazel and eat 
 the nuts straight from the bush." 
 
 1 That would not be very easy," said the poet, " and 
 
 
ix THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN 67 
 
 yet it is not as easy as that, for the bush can only be found 
 by its own knowledge, and that knowledge can only be got 
 by eating the nuts, and the nuts can be got only by eatme 
 the salmon." 
 
 ' We must wait for the salmon," said Fionn in a rage of 
 resignation. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 LIFE continued for him in a round of timeless time, 
 wherein days and nights were uneventful and were yet 
 filled with interest. As the day packed its load of strength 
 into his frame, so it added its store of knowledge to his 
 mind, and each night sealed the twain, for it is in the night 
 that we make secure what we have gathered in the day. 
 
 If he had told of these days he would have told of a 
 succession of meals and sleeps, and of an endless conversa- 
 tion, from which his mind would now and again slip away 
 to a solitude of its own, where, in large hazy atmospheres, 
 it swung and drifted and reposed. Then he would be back 
 again, and it was a pleasure for him to catch up on the 
 thought that was forward and re-create for it all the matter 
 he had missed. But he could not often make these sleepy 
 sallies ; his master was too experienced a teacher to allow 
 any such bright-faced, eager-eyed abstractions, and as the 
 druid women had switched his legs around a tree, so Finegas 
 chased his mind, demanding sense in his questions and 
 understanding in his replies. 
 
 To ask questions can become the laziest and wobbliest i 
 occupation of a mind, but when you must yourself answer 
 the problem that you have posed, you will meditate your 
 question with care and frame it with precision. Fionn's 
 
 68 
 
CHAP.X THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN 69 
 
 mind learned to jump in a bumpier field than that in which 
 he had chased hares. And when he had asked his question, 
 and given his own answer to it, Finegas would take the 
 matter up and make clear to him where the query was 
 badly formed or at what point the answer had begun to go 
 astray, so that Fionn came to understand by what successions 
 a good question grows at last to a good answer. 
 
 One day, not long after the conversation told of, 
 Finegas came to the place where Fionn was. The poet had 
 a shallow osier basket on his arm, and on his face there was 
 a look that was at once triumphant and gloomy. He was 
 excited certainly, but he was sad also, and as he stood 
 gazing on Fionn his eyes were so kind that the boy was 
 touched/ and they were yet so melancholy that it almost 
 made Fionn weep. 
 
 is it, my master ? " said the alarmed boy. 
 poet placed his osier basket on the grass. 
 Look in the basket, dear son," he said. 
 
 Fionn looked. 
 ' There is a salmon in the basket." 
 
 " It is The Salmon," said HlPegas with a great sigh. 
 
 Fionn leaped for delight. 
 
 " I am glad for you, master," he cried. " Indeed I 
 am glad for you." 
 
 " And I am glad, my dear soul," the master rejoined. 
 
 But, having said it, he bent his brow to his hand 
 and for a long time he was silent and gathered into 
 himself. 
 
 " What should be done now?" Fionn demanded, as he 
 stared on the beautiful fish. 
 
 Finegas rose from where he sat by the osier basket. 
 
 " I will be back in a short time," he said heavily. 
 
7 o IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 "While I am away you may roast the salmon, so that it 
 will be ready against my return." 
 
 " I will roast it indeed," said Fionn. 
 
 The poet gazed long and earnestly on him. 
 
 " You will not eat any of my salmon while I am away ? 
 he asked. 
 
 " I will not eat the littlest piece," said Fionn. 
 
 " I am sure you will not," the other murmured, as he 
 turned and walked slowly across the grass and behind the 
 sheltering bushes on the ridge. 
 
 Fionn cooked the salmon. It was beautiful and tempting 
 and savoury as it smoked on a wooden platter among cool 
 green leaves ; and it looked all these to Finegas when he 
 came from behind the fringing bushes and sat in the grass 
 outside his door. He gazed on the fish with more than his 
 eyes. He looked on it with his heart, with his soul in his 
 eyes, and when he turned to look on Fionn the boy did 
 not know whether the love that was in his eyes was for the 
 fish or for himself. Yet he did know that a great moment 
 had arrived for the poet. 
 
 " So," said Finegas, " you did not eat it on me after all ? " 
 
 " Did I not promise ? " Fionn replied. 
 
 " And yet," his master continued, " I went away so 
 that you might eat the fish if you felt you had to." 
 
 * Why should I want another man's fish ? " said proud 
 Fionn. 
 
 * Because young people have strong desires. I thought 
 you might have tasted it, and then you would have eaten 
 
 it on me." 
 
 ' I did taste it by chance," Fionn laughed, " for while 
 the fish was roasting a great blister rose on its skin. I did 
 not like the look of that blister, and I pressed it down with 
 
x THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN 71 
 
 my thumb. That burned my thumb, so I popped it in my 
 mouth to heal the smart. If your salmon tastes as nice as 
 my thumb did," he laughed, " it will taste very nice." 
 
 " What did you say your name was, dear heart," the 
 poet asked. 
 
 " I said my name was Deimne." 
 
 " Your name is not Deimne," said the mild man, " your 
 name is Fionn." 
 
 " That is true," the boy answered, " but I do not know 
 how you know it." 
 
 " Even if I have not eaten the Salmon of Knowledge I 
 have some small science of my own." 
 
 " It is very clever to know things as you know them," 
 Fionn replied wonderingly. " What more do you know of 
 me, dear Master ? " 
 
 " I know that I did not tell you the truth," said the 
 heavy-hearted man. 
 
 " What did you tell me instead of it ? " 
 ' I told you a lie." 
 
 " It is not a good thing to do," Fionn admitted. 
 * What sort of a lie was the lie, master ? " 
 
 " I told you that the Salmon of Knowledge was to be 
 caught by me, according to the prophecy." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 ' That was true indeed, and I have caught the fish. 
 But I did not tell you that the salmon was not to be eaten 
 by me, although that also was in the prophecy, and that 
 omission was the lie." 
 
 ' It is not a great lie," said Fionn soothingly. 
 
 "It must not become a greater one," the poet replied 
 sternly. 
 
 ' Who was the fish given to ? " his companion wondered. 
 
IRISH FAIRY STORIES 
 
 CHAP. X 
 
 " It was given to you," Finegas answered. " It was 
 given to Fionn, the son of Uail, the son of Baiscne, and it 
 will be given to him." 
 
 " You shall have a half of the fish," cried Fionn. 
 
 " I will not eat a piece of its skin that is as small as the 
 point of its smallest bone," said the resolute and trembling 
 bard. " Let you now eat up the fish, and I shall watch 
 you and give praise to the gods of the Underworld and of 
 the Elements." 
 
 Fionn then ate the Salmon of Knowledge, and when it 
 had disappeared a great jollity and tranquillity and exuber- 
 ance returned to the poet. 
 
 " Ah," said he, " I had a great combat with that fish." 
 
 " Did it fight for its life ? " Fionn inquired. 
 
 " It did, but that was not the fight I meant." 
 
 " You shall eat a Salmon of Knowledge too," Fionn 
 assured him. 
 
 " You have eaten one," cried the blithe poet, " and if 
 you make such a promise it will be because you know." 
 
 " I promise it and know it," said Fionn ; " you shall eat 
 a Salmon of Knowledge yet." 
 

 CHAPTER XI 
 
 HE had received all that he could get from Finegas. His 
 education was finished and the time had come to test it, 
 and to try all else that he had of mind and body. He bade 
 farewell to the gentle poet, and set out for Tara of the 
 Kings. 
 
 It was Samhain-tide, and the feast of Tara was being 
 held, at which all that was wise or skilful or well-born in 
 Ireland were gathered together. 
 
 This is how Tara was when Tara was. There was the 
 High King's palace with its fortification ; without it was 
 another fortification enclosing the four minor palaces, each 
 of which was maintained by one of the four provincial 
 kings ; without that again was the great banqueting hall, 
 and around it and enclosing all of the sacred hill in its 
 gigantic bound ran the main outer ramparts of Tara. 
 From it, the centre of Ireland, four great roads went, north, 
 south, east, and west, and along these roads, from the top 
 and the bottom and the two sides of Ireland, there moved 
 for weeks before Samhain an endless stream of passengers. 
 
 Here a gay band went carrying rich treasure to 
 decorate the pavilion of a Munster lord. On another road 
 a vat of seasoned yew, monstrous as a house on wheels and 
 drawn by an hundred laborious oxen, came bumping and 
 
 73 
 
74 
 
 IRISH FAIRY STORIES 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 joggling the ale that thirsty Connaught princes would 
 drink. On a road again the learned men of Leinster, each 
 with an idea in his head that would discomfit a northern 
 ollav and make a southern one gape and fidget, would be 
 marching solemnly, each by a horse that was piled high 
 on the back and widely at the sides with clean - peeled 
 willow or oaken wands, that were carved from the top to 
 the bottom with the ogham signs ; the first lines of poems 
 (for it was an offence against wisdom to commit more than 
 initial lines to writing), the names and dates of kings, the 
 procession of laws of Tara and of the sub-kingdoms, the 
 names of places and their meanings. On the brown 
 stallion ambling peacefully yonder there might go the 
 warring of the gods for two or ten thousand years ; this 
 mare with the dainty pace and the vicious eye might be 
 sidling under a load of oaken odes in honour of his owner's 
 family, with a few bundles of tales of wonder added in case 
 they might be useful ; and perhaps the restive piebald was 
 backing the history of Ireland into a ditch. 
 
 On such a journey all people spoke together, for all 
 were friends, and no person regarded the weapon in another 
 man's hand other than as an implement to poke a reluctant 
 cow with, or to pacify with loud wallops some hoof-proud 
 colt. 
 
 Into this teem and profusion of jolly humanity Fionn 
 slipped, and if his mood had been as bellicose as a wounded 
 boar he would yet have found no man to quarrel with, and 
 if his eye had been as sharp as a jealous husband's he would 
 have found no eye to meet it with calculation or menace or 
 fear ; for the Peace of Ireland was in being, and for six 
 weeks man was neighbour to man, and the nation was the 
 guest of the High King. 
 
xi THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN 75 
 
 Fionn went in with the notables. 
 
 His arrival had been timed for the opening day and the 
 great feast of welcome. He may have marvelled, looking 
 on the bright city, with its pillars of gleaming bronze and 
 the roofs that were painted in many colours, so that each 
 house seemed to be covered by the spreading wings of some 
 gigantic and gorgeous bird. And the palaces themselves, 
 mellow with red oak, polished within and without by the 
 wear and the care of a thousand years, and carved with the 
 patient skill of unending generations of the most famous 
 artists of the most artistic country of the western world, 
 would have given him much to marvel at also. It must 
 have seemed like a city of dream, a city to catch the 
 heart, when, coming over the great plain, Fionn saw Tara 
 of the Kings held on its hill as in a hand to gather all the 
 gold of the falling sun, and to restore a brightness as mellow 
 and tender as that universal largess. 
 
 In the great banqueting hall everything was in order for 
 the feast. The nobles of Ireland with their winsome con- 
 sorts, the learned and artistic professions represented by the 
 pick of their time were in place. The Ard-Rf, Conn of 
 the Hundred Battles, had taken his place on the raised dais 
 which commanded the whole of that vast hall. At his right 
 hand his son Art, to be afterwards as famous as his famous 
 father, took his seat, and on his left Goll mor mac Morna, 
 chief of the Fianna of Ireland, had the seat of honour. As 
 the High King took his place he could see every person 
 who was noted in the land for any reason. He would know 
 every one who was present, for the fame of all men is sealed 
 at Tara, and behind his chair a herald stood to tell anything 
 the king might not know or had forgotten. 
 
 Conn gave the signal and his guests seated themselves. 
 
7 6 
 
 IRISH FAIRY STORIES 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 The time had come for the squires to take their stations 
 behind their masters and mistresses. But, for the moment, 
 the great room was seated, and the doors were held to allow 
 a moment of respect to pass before the servers and squires 
 came in. 
 
 Looking over his guests, Conn observed that a young 
 man was yet standing. 
 
 " There is a gentleman," he murmured, " for whom no 
 seat has been found." 
 
 We may be sure that the Master of the Banquet 
 blushed at that. 
 
 " And," the king continued, " I do not seem to know 
 the young man." 
 
 Nor did his herald, nor did the unfortunate Master, nor 
 did anybody ; for the eyes of all were now turned where 
 the king's went. 
 
 E< Give me my horn," said the gracious monarch. 
 
 The horn of state was put to his hand. 
 ' Young gentleman," he called to the stranger, " I 
 wish to drink to your health and to welcome vou to 
 Tara." 
 
 The young man came forward then, greater-shouldered 
 than any mighty man of that gathering, longer and cleaner 
 limbed, with his fair curls dancing about his beardless face. 
 The king put the great horn into his hand. 
 
 ' Tell me your name," he commanded gently. 
 
 ' 1 am Fionn, the son of Uail, the son of Baiscne," said 
 the youth. 
 
 And at that saying a touch as of lightning went 
 through the gathering so that each person quivered, and 
 the son of the great, murdered captain looked by the 
 king's shoulder into the twinkling eye of Goll. But no 
 
xi THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN 77 
 
 word was uttered, no movement made except the movement 
 and the utterance of the Ard-Rf. 
 
 " You are the son of a friend," said the great-hearted 
 monarch. " You shall have the seat of a friend." 
 
 He placed Fionn at the right hand of his own son Art. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 IT is to be known that on the night of the Feast of 
 Samhain the doors separating this world and the next 
 one are opened, and the inhabitants of either world can 
 leave their respective spheres and appear in the world of 
 the other beings. 
 
 Now there was a grandson to the Dagda Mor, the 
 Lord of the Underworld, and he was named Aillen mac 
 Midna, out of Shf Finnachy, and this Aillen bore an 
 implacable enmity to Tara and the Ard-Rf. 
 
 As well as being monarch of Ireland her High King 
 was chief of the people learned in magic, and it is 
 possible that at some time Conn had adventured into 
 Tir na n-Og, the Land of the Young, and had done some 
 deed or misdeed in Aillen's lordship or in his family. It 
 must have been an ill deed in truth, for it was in a very 
 rage of revenge that Aillen came yearly at the permitted 
 time to ravage Tara. 
 
 Nine times he had come on this mission of revenge, 
 but it is not to be supposed that he could actually destroy 
 the holy city : the Ard-Rf and magicians could prevent 
 that, but he could yet do a damage so considerable that it 
 was worth Conn's while to take special extra precautions 
 against him, including the precaution of chance. 
 
 78 
 
CHAP, xii THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN 79 
 
 Therefore, when the feast was over and the banquet 
 had commenced, the Hundred Fighter stood from his throne 
 and looked over his assembled people. 
 
 The Chain of Silence was shaken by the attendant 
 whose duty and honour was the Silver Chain, and at that 
 delicate chime the hall went silent, and a general wonder 
 ensued as to what matter the High King would submit to 
 his people. 
 
 " Friends and heroes," said Conn, " Aillen, the son of 
 Midna, will come to-night from Slieve Fuaid with occult, 
 terrible fire against our city. Is there among you one who 
 loves Tara and the king, and who will undertake our defence 
 against that being ? " 
 
 He spoke in silence, and when he had finished he 
 listened to the same silence, but it was now deep, ominous, 
 agonised. Each man glanced uneasily on his neighbour 
 and then stared at his wine-cup or his fingers. The hearts 
 qf young men went hot for a gallant moment and were 
 chilled in the succeeding one, for they had all heard of 
 Aillen out of Shf Finnachy in the north. The lesser 
 gentlemen looked under their brows at the greater 
 champions, and these peered furtively at the greatest of all. 
 Art og mac Morna of the Hard Strokes fell to biting his 
 fingers, Condn the Swearer and Garra mac Morna grumbled 
 irritably to each other and at their neighbours, even Caelte, 
 the son of Rondn, looked down into his own lap, and Goll 
 Mor sipped at his wine without any twinkle in his eye. A 
 horrid embarrassment came into the great hall, and as the 
 High King stood in that palpitating silence his noble face 
 changed from kindly to grave and from that to a terrible 
 sternness. In another moment, to the undying shame of 
 every person present, he would have been compelled to 
 
8o IRISH FAIRY STORIES ' CHAP. 
 
 lift his own challenge and declare himself the champion of 
 Tara for that night, but the shame that was on the faces of 
 his people would remain in the heart of their king. Coil's 
 merry mind would help him to forget, but even his heart 
 would be wrung by a memory that he would not dare to 
 face. It was at that terrible moment that Fionn stood up. 
 
 " What," said he, " will be given to the man who under- 
 takes this defence ? " 
 
 " All that can be rightly asked will be royally bestowed," 
 was the king's answer. 
 
 " Who are the sureties ? " said Fionn. 
 
 "The kings of Ireland, and Red Cith with his 
 magicians." 
 
 " I will undertake the defence," said Fionn. 
 
 And on that, the kings and magicians who were present 
 bound themselves to the fulfilment of the bargain. 
 
 Fionn marched from the banqueting hall, and as he 
 went, all who were present of nobles and retainers and 
 servants acclaimed him and wished him luck. But in their 
 hearts they were bidding him good-bye, for all were 
 assured that the lad was marching to a death so unescapable 
 that he might already be counted as a dead man. 
 
 It is likely that Fionn looked for help to the people of 
 the Shf themselves, for, through his mother, he belonged 
 to the tribes of Dana, although, on the father's side, his 
 blood was well compounded with mortal clay. It may be, 
 too, that he knew how events would turn, for he had eaten 
 the Salmon of Knowledge. Yet it is not recorded that on 
 this occasion he invoked any magical art as he did on 
 other adventures. 
 
 Fionn's way of discovering whatever was happening 
 and hidden was always the same and is many times referred 
 
xii THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN 81 
 
 to. A shallow, oblong dish of pure, pale gold was brought 
 to him. This dish was filled with clear water. Then Fionn 
 would bend his head and stare into the water, and as he 
 stared he would place his thumb in his mouth under his 
 " Tooth of Knowledge," his " wisdom tooth." 
 
 Knowledge, may it be said, is higher than magic and 
 is more to be sought. It is quite possible to see what is 
 happening and yet not know what is forward, for while 
 seeing is believing it does not follow that either seeing or 
 believing is knowing. Many a person can see a thing and 
 believe a thing and know just as little about it as the person 
 who does neither. But Fionn would see and know, or he 
 would understand a decent ratio of his visions. That he 
 was versed in magic is true, for he was ever known as the 
 Knowledgeable man, and later he had two magicians in 
 his household named Dirim and mac-Reith to do the rough 
 work of knowledge for their busy master. 
 
 It was not from the Shf, however, that assistance came 
 to Fionn. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 HE marched through the successive fortifications until he 
 came to the outer, great wall, the boundary of the city, 
 and when he had passed this he was on the wide plain of 
 
 Tara. 
 
 Other than himself no person was abroad, for on the 
 night of the Feast of Samhain none but a madman would 
 quit the shelter of a house even if it were on fire ; for 
 whatever disasters might be within a house would be as 
 nothing to the calamities without it. 
 
 The noise of the banquet was not now audible to Fionn 
 it is possible, however, that there was a shamefaced silence 
 in the great hall and the lights of the city were hidden 
 by the successive great ramparts. The sky was over him ; 
 the earth under him ; and than these there was nothing, 
 or there was but the darkness and the wind. 
 
 But darkness was not a thing to terrify him, bred in 
 the nightness of a wood and the very fosterling of gloom ; 
 nor could the wind afflict his ear or his heart. There was 
 no note in its orchestra that he had not brooded on and 
 become, which becoming is magic. The long-drawn moan 
 of it ; the thrilling whisper and hush ; the shrill, sweet 
 whistle, so thin it can scarcely be heard, and is taken more 
 by the nerves than by the ear ; the screech, sudden as a 
 
 82 
 
CHAP, xiii THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN 83 
 
 devil's yell and loud as ten thunders ; the cry as of who 
 flies with backward look to the shelter of leaves and 
 darkness ; and the sob as of one stricken with an age-long 
 misery, only at times remembered, but remembered then 
 with what a pang ! His ear knew by what successions they 
 arrived, and by what stages they grew and diminished. 
 Listening in the dark to the bundle of noises which make 
 a noise he could disentangle them and assign a place and a 
 reason to each gradation of sound that formed the chorus : 
 there was the patter of a rabbit, and there the scurry- 
 ing of a hare ; a bush rustled yonder, but that brief 
 rustle was a bird ; that pressure was a wolf, and this 
 hesitation a fox ; the scraping yonder was but a rough leaf 
 against bark, and the scratching beyond it was a ferret's 
 claw. 
 
 Fear cannot be where knowledge is, and Fionn was not 
 fearful. 
 
 His mind, quietly busy on all sides, picked up one 
 sound and dwelt on it. " A man," said Fionn, and he 
 listened in that direction, back towards the city. 
 
 A man it was, almost as skilled in darkness as Fionn 
 himself. 
 
 " This is no enemy," Fionn thought ; " his walking is 
 open." 
 
 " Who comes ? " he called. 
 
 " A friend," said the newcomer. 
 
 !< Give a friend's name," said Fionn. 
 
 " Fiacuil mac Cona," was the answer. 
 
 " Ah, my pulse and heart ! " cried Fionn, and he strode 
 a few paces to meet the great robber who had fostered him 
 among the marshes. 
 
 " So you are not afraid," he said joyfully. 
 
84 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 " I am afraid in good truth," Fiacuil whispered, " and 
 the minute my business with you is finished I will trot 
 back as quick as legs will carry me. May the gods protect 
 m y going as they protected my coming," said the robber 
 
 piously. 
 
 " Amen," said Fionn, " and now, tell me what you 
 
 have come for ? >3 
 
 " Have you any plan against this lord of the Shi ? " 
 Fiacuil whispered. 
 
 " I will attack him," said Fionn. 
 
 " That is not a plan," the other groaned ; " we do not 
 plan to deliver an attack but to win a victory." 
 
 " Is this a very terrible person ? " Fionn asked. 
 
 " Terrible indeed. No one can get near him or away 
 from him. He comes out of the Shf playing sweet, low 
 music on a timpan and a pipe, and all who hear this music 
 fall asleep." 
 
 " I will not fall asleep," said Fionn. 
 
 " You will indeed, for everybody does." 
 
 " What happens then ? " Fionn asked. 
 
 " When all are asleep Aillen mac Midna blows a dart 
 of fire out of his mouth, and everything that is touched 
 by that fire is destroyed, and he can blow his fire to an 
 incredible distance and to any direction." 
 
 " You are very brave to come to help me," Fionn 
 murmured, " especially when you are not able to help me 
 at all." 
 
 " I can help," Fiacuil replied, " but I must be paid." 
 
 " What payment ? " 
 
 " A third of all you earn and a seat at your council." 
 
 " I grant that," said Fionn ; " and now, tell me your 
 plan?" 
 
xin THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN 85 
 
 " You remember my spear with the thirty rivets of 
 Arabian gold in its socket ? " 
 
 " The one," Fionn queried, " that had its head wrapped 
 in a blanket and was stuck in a bucket of water and was 
 chained to a wall as well the venomous Birgha ? " 
 
 " That one," Fiacuil replied. 
 
 " It is Aillen mac Midna's own spear," he continued, 
 " and it was taken out of his Shi by your father." 
 
 " Well ? " said Fionn, wondering nevertheless where 
 Fiacuil got the spear, but too generous to ask. 
 
 " When you hear the great man of the Shf coming, 
 take the wrappings off the head of the spear and bend 
 your face over it ; the heat of the spear, the stench of it, 
 all its pernicious and acrid qualities will prevent you from 
 going to sleep." 
 
 " Are you sure of that ? " said Fionn. 
 
 " You couldn't go to sleep close to that stench ; nobody 
 could," Fiacuil replied decidedly. 
 
 He continued : " Aillen mac Midna will be off his guard 
 when he stops playing and begins to blow his fire ; he 
 will think everybody is asleep ; then you can deliver the 
 attack you were speaking of, and all good luck go 
 with it." 
 
 " I will give him back his spear," said Fionn. 
 
 " Here it is," said Fiacuil, taking the Birgha from under 
 his cloak. " But be as careful of it, my pulse, be as 
 frightened of it as you are of the man of Dana." 
 
 " I will be frightened of nothing," said Fionn, " and 
 the only person I will be sorry for is that Aillen mac Midna, 
 who is going to get his own spear back." 
 
 " I will go away now," his companion whispered, " for 
 it is growing darker where you would have thought there 
 
86 
 
 IRISH FAIRY STORIES 
 
 CHAP. XIII 
 
 was no more room for darkness, and there is an eerie feeling 
 abroad which I do not like. That man from the Shf may 
 come any minute, and if I catch one sound of his music I 
 am done for." 
 
 The robber went away and again Fionn was alone. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 HE listened to the retreating footsteps until they could be 
 heard no more, and the one sound that came to his tense 
 ears was the beating of his own heart. 
 
 Even the wind had ceased, and there seemed to be 
 nothing in the world but the darkness and himself. In 
 that gigantic blackness, in that unseen quietude and vacancy, 
 the mind could cease to be personal to itself. It could be 
 overwhelmed and merged in space, so that consciousness 
 would be transferred or dissipated, and one might sleep 
 standing ; for the mind fears loneliness more than all else, 
 and will escape to the moon rather than be driven inwards 
 on its own being. 
 
 But Fionn was not lonely, and he was not afraid when 
 the son of Midna came. 
 
 A long stretch of the silent night had gone by, minute 
 following minute in a slow sequence, wherein as there was 
 no change there was no time ; wherein there was no past 
 and no future, but a stupefying, endless present which is 
 almost the annihilation of consciousness. A change came 
 then, for the clouds had also been moving and the moon 
 at last was sensed behind them not as a radiance, but as 
 a percolation of light, a gleam that was strained through 
 matter after matter and was less than the very wraith 
 
 87 
 
88 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 or remembrance of itself; a thing seen so narrowly, so 
 sparsely, that the eye could doubt if it was or was not seeing, 
 and might conceive that its own memory was re-creating 
 that which was still absent. 
 
 But Fionn's eye was the eye of a wild creature that 
 spies on darkness and moves there wittingly. He saw, 
 then, not a thing but a movement ; something that was 
 darker than the darkness it loomed on ; not a being but 
 a presence, an, as it were, impending pressure. And in a 
 little he heard the deliberate pace of that great being. 
 
 Fionn bent to his spear and unloosed its coverings. 
 
 Then from the darkness there came another sound ; a 
 low, sweet sound ; thrillingly joyous, thrillingly low ; so low 
 the ear could scarcely note it, so sweet the ear wished to 
 catch nothing else and would strive to hear it rather than 
 all sounds that may be heard by man : the music of another 
 world ! the unearthly, dear melody of the Shi ! So sweet 
 it was that the sense strained to it, and having reached 
 must follow drowsily in its wake, and would merge in it, 
 and could not return again to its own place until that strange 
 harmony was finished and the ear restored to freedom. 
 
 But Fionn had taken the covering from his spear, and 
 with his brow pressed close to it he kept his mind and all 
 his senses engaged on that sizzling, murderous point. 
 
 The music ceased and Aillen hissed a fierce blue flame 
 from his mouth, and it was as though he hissed lightning. 
 
 Here it would seem that Fionn used magic, for 
 spreading out his fringed mantle he caught the flame. 
 Rather he stopped it, for it slid from the mantle and sped 
 down into the earth to the depth of twenty-six spans ; 
 from which that slope is still called the Glen of the Mantle, 
 and the rise on which Aillen stood is known as the Ard of Fire. 
 
xiv THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN 89 
 
 One can imagine the surprise of Aillen mac Midna, 
 seeing his fire caught and quenched by an invisible hand. 
 And one can imagine that at this check he might be 
 frightened, for who would be more terrified than a magician 
 who sees his magic fail, and who, knowing of power, will 
 guess at powers of which he has no conception and may well 
 dread. 
 
 Everything had been done by him as it should be done. 
 His pipe had been played and his timpan, all who heard 
 that music should be asleep, and yet his fire was caught in 
 full course and was quenched. 
 
 Aillen, with all the terrific strength of which he was 
 master, blew again, and the great jet of blue flame came 
 roaring and whistling from him and was caught and 
 disappeared. 
 
 Panic swirled into the man from Faery ; he turned 
 from that terrible spot and fled, not knowing what might 
 be behind, but dreading it as he had never before dreaded 
 anything, and the unknown pursued him ; that terrible 
 defence became offence and hung to his heel as a wolf 
 pads by the flank of a bull. 
 
 And Aillen was not in his own world ! He was in the 
 world of men, where movement is not easy and the very 
 air a burden. In his own sphere, in his own element, he 
 might have outrun Fionn, but this was Fionn's world, 
 Fionn's element, and the flying god was not gross enough 
 to outstrip him. Yet what a race he gave, for it was but 
 at the entrance to his own Shf that the pursuer got close 
 enough. Fionn put a finger into the thong of die great 
 spear, and at that cast night fell on Aillen mac Midna. 
 His eyes went black, his mind whirled and ceased, there 
 came nothingness where he had been, and as the Birgha 
 
9 o IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP.XIV 
 
 whistled into his shoulder-blades he withered away, he 
 tumbled emptily and was dead. Fionn took his lovely 
 head from its shoulders and went back through the night 
 to Tara. 
 
 Triumphant Fionn, who had dealt death to a god, and 
 to whom death would be dealt, and who is now dead ! 
 
 He reached the palace at sunrise. 
 
 On that morning all were astir early. They wished to 
 see what destruction had been wrought by the great being, 
 but it was young Fionn they saw and that redoubtable 
 head swinging by its hair. 
 
 " What is your demand ? " said the Ard-Rf. 
 
 " The thing that it is right I should ask," said Fionn : 
 " the command of the Fianna of Ireland." 
 
 " Make your choice," said Conn to Goll Mor ; " you 
 will leave Ireland, or you will place your hand in the hand 
 of this champion and be his man." 
 
 Goll could do a thing that would be hard for another 
 person, and he could do it so beautifully that he was not 
 diminished by any action. 
 
 " Here is my hand," said Goll. 
 
 And he twinkled at the stern, young eyes that gazed on 
 him as he made his submission. 
 
THE BIRTH OF BRAN 
 

 CHAPTER I 
 
 THERE are people who do not like dogs a bit they are 
 usually women but in this story there is a man who did .not 
 like dogs. In fact, he hated them. When he saw one he 
 used to go black in the face, and he threw rocks at it until 
 it got out of sight. But the Power that protects all creatures 
 had put a squint into this man's eye, so that he always threw 
 crooked. 
 
 This gentleman's name was Fergus Fionnliath, and his 
 stronghold was near the harbour of Galway. Whenever a 
 dog barked he would leap out of his seat, and he would 
 throw everything that he owned out of the window in the 
 direction of the bark. He gave prizes to servants who 
 disliked dogs, and when he heard that a man had drowned 
 a litter of pups he used to visit that person and try to marry 
 his daughter. 
 
 Now Fionn, the son of Uail, was the reverse of Fergus 
 Fionnliath in this matter, for he delighted in dogs, and 
 
 93 
 
94 
 
 IRISH FAIRY STORIES 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 he knew everything about them from the setting of the first 
 little white tooth to the rocking of the last long yellow one. 
 He knew the affections and antipathies which are proper in 
 a dog ; the degree of obedience to which dogs may be 
 trained without losing their honourable qualities or becoming 
 servile and suspicious ; he knew the hopes that animate 
 them, the apprehensions which tingle in their blood, and 
 all that is to be demanded from, or forgiven in, a paw, an 
 ear, a nose, an eye, or a tooth ; and he understood these things 
 because he loved dogs, for it is by love alone that we under- 
 stand anything. 
 
 Among the three hundred dogs which Fionn owned there 
 were two to whom he gave an especial tenderness, and who 
 were his daily and nightly companions. These two were 
 Bran and Sceolan, but if a person were to guess for twenty 
 years he would not find out why Fionn loved these two dogs 
 and why he would never be separated from them. 
 
 Fionn's mother, Muirne, went to wide Allen of Leinster 
 to visit her son, and she brought her young sister Tuiren 
 with her. The mother and aunt of the great captain were 
 well treated among the Fianna, first, because they were 
 parents to Fionn, and second, because they were beautiful 
 and noble women. 
 
 No words can describe how delightful Muirne was 
 She took the branch ; and as to Tuiren, a man could not look 
 at her without becoming angry or dejected. Her face was 
 fresh as a spring morning ; her voice more cheerful than the 
 cuckoo calling from the branch that is highest in the hedge ; 
 and her form swayed like a reed and flowed like a river, so 
 that each person thought she would surely flow to him. 
 
 Men who had wives of their own grew moody and 
 
A man who did not like dogs. In fact, he hated them. When he saw one he 
 used to go black in the face, and he threw rocks at it until it got out of sight. 
 
 To face page 94.. 
 
i THE BIRTH OF BRAN 95 
 
 downcast because they could not hope to marry her, while 
 the bachelors of the Fianna stared at each other with truculent, 
 bloodshot eyes, and then they gazed on Tuiren so gently 
 that she may have imagined she was being beamed on by 
 the mild eyes of the dawn. 
 
 It was to an Ulster gentleman, lollan Eachtach, that 
 she gave her love, and this chief stated his rights and qualities 
 and asked for her in marriage. 
 
 Now Fionn did not dislike the men of Ulster, but either 
 he did not know them well or else he knew them too well, 
 for he made a curious stipulation before consenting to the 
 marriage. He bound lollan to return the lady if there should 
 be occasion to think her unhappy, and lollan agreed to do 
 so. The sureties to this bargain were Caelte mac Ronan, 
 Goll mac Morna, and Lugaidh. Lugaidh himself gave 
 the bride away, but it was not a pleasant ceremony for him, 
 because he also was in love with the lady, and he would have 
 preferred keeping her to giving her away. When she had 
 gone he made a poem about her, beginning : 
 
 There is no more light in the sky 
 And hundreds of sad people learned the poem by heart. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 WHEN lollan and Tuiren were married they went to Ulster, 
 and they lived together very happily. But the law of life 
 is change ; nothing continues in the same way for any 
 length of time ; happiness must become unhappiness, and 
 will be succeeded again by the joy it had displaced. The 
 past also must be reckoned with ; it is seldom as far behind 
 us as we could wish : it is more often in front, blocking the 
 way, and the future trips over it just when we think that the 
 road is clear and joy our own. 
 
 lollan had a past. He was not ashamed of it ; he 
 merely thought it was finished, although in truth it was only 
 beginning, for it is that perpetual beginning of the past 
 that we call the future. 
 
 Before he joined the Fianna he had been in love with 
 a lady of the Shi, named Uct Dealv (Fair Breast), and they 
 had been sweethearts for years. How often he had visited 
 his sweetheart in Faery ! With what eagerness and antici- 
 pation he had gone there ; the lover's whistle that he used 
 to give was known to every person in that Shf, and he had 
 been discussed by more than one of the delicate sweet ladies 
 of Faery. 
 
 " That is your whistle, Fair Breast," her sister of the 
 Shi would say. 
 
 96 
 
Then they went hand in hand in the country that smells of apple-blossom 
 
 and honey. 
 
 To face page 96. 
 

 CHAP, ii THE BIRTH OF BRAN 97 
 
 And Uct Dealv would reply : 
 
 " Yes, that is my mortal, my lover, my pulse, and my 
 one treasure." 
 
 She laid her spinning aside, or her embroidery if she 
 was at that, or if she were baking a cake of fine wheaten 
 bread mixed with honey she would leave the cake to bake 
 itself and fly to lollan. Then they went hand in hand in 
 the country that smells of apple-blossom and honey, looking 
 on heavy-boughed trees and on dancing and beaming clouds. 
 Or they stood dreaming together, locked in a clasping of 
 arms and eyes, gazing up and down on each other, lollan 
 staring down into sweet grey wells that peeped and flickered 
 under thin brows, and Uct Dealv looking up into great black 
 ones that went dreamy and went hot in endless alternation. 
 
 Then lollan would go back to the world of men, and 
 Uct Dealv would return to her occupations in the Land of 
 the Ever Young. 
 
 " What did he say ? " her sister of the Shf would ask. 
 
 " He said I was die Berry of the Mountain, the Star of 
 
 fowledge, and the Blossom of the Raspberry." 
 ' They always say the same thing," her sister pouted. 
 " But they look other things," Uct Dealv insisted. 
 ' They feel other things," she murmured ; and an endless 
 conversation recommenced. 
 
 Then for some time lollan did not come to Faery, and 
 Uct Dealv marvelled at that, w r hile her sister made an hundred 
 surmises, each one worse than the last. 
 
 " He is not dead or he would be here," she said. " He 
 has forgotten you, my darling." 
 
 News was brought to Tir na n-Og of the marriage of 
 lollan and Tuiren, and when Uct Dealv heard that news her 
 heart ceased to beat for a moment, and she closed her eyes. 
 
 H 
 
98 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 " Now ! " said her sister of the Shf. " That is how long 
 the love of a mortal lasts/' she added, in the voice of sad 
 triumph which is proper to sisters. 
 
 But on Uct Dealv there came a rage of jealousy and 
 despair such as no person in the Shi had ever heard of, and 
 from that moment she became capable of every ill deed ; 
 for there are two things not easily controlled, and they are 
 hunger and jealousy. She determined that the woman who 
 had supplanted her in lollan's affections should rue the day 
 she did it. She pondered and brooded revenge in her heart, 
 sitting in thoughtful solitude and bitter collectedness until 
 at last she had a plan. 
 
 She understood the arts of magic and shape-changing, 
 so she changed her shape into that of Fionn's female runner, 
 the best-known woman in Ireland ; then she set out from 
 Faery and appeared in the world. She travelled in the 
 direction of lollan's stronghold. 
 
 lollan knew the appearance of Fionn's messenger, but he 
 was surprised to see her. 
 
 She saluted him. 
 
 " Health and long life, my master." 
 
 " Health and good days," he replied. " What brings 
 you here, dear heart ? " 
 
 " I come from Fionn." 
 
 " And your message ? " said he. 
 
 " The royal captain intends to visit you." 
 
 " He will be welcome," said lollan. " We shall give 
 him an Ulster feast." 
 
 * The world knows what that is," said the messenger 
 courteously. " And now," she continued, " I have messages 
 for your queen." 
 
 Tuiren then walked from the house with the messenger, 
 
ii THE BIRTH OF BRAN 99 
 
 but when they had gone a short distance Uct Dealv drew a 
 hazel rod from beneath her cloak and struck it on the queen's 
 shoulder, and on the instant Tuiren's figure trembled and 
 quivered, and it began to whirl inwards and downwards, 
 and she changed into the appearance of a hound. 
 
 It was sad to see the beautiful, slender dog standing 
 shivering and astonished, and sad to see the lovely eyes that 
 looked out pitifully in terror and amazement. But Uct 
 Dealv did not feel sad. She clasped a chain about the 
 hound's neck, and they set off westward towards the house 
 of Fergus Fionnliath, who was reputed to be the unfriendliest 
 man in the world to a dog. It was because of his reputation 
 that Uct Dealv was bringing the hound to him. She did 
 not want a good home for this dog : she wanted the worst 
 home that could be found in the world, and she thought 
 that Fergus would revenge for her the rage and jealousy 
 which she felt towards Tuiren. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 As they paced along Uct Dealv railed bitterly against the 
 hound, and shook and jerked her chain. Many a sharp 
 cry the hound gave in that journey, many a mild lament. 
 
 " Ah, supplanter ! Ah, taker of another girl's sweet- 
 heart ! " said Uct Dealv fiercely. " How would your lover 
 take it if he could see you now ? How would he look if 
 he saw your pointy ears, your long thin snout, your shivering, 
 skinny legs, and your long grey tail. He would not love 
 you now, bad girl ! " 
 
 " Have you heard of Fergus Fionnliath," she said again, 
 " the man who does not like dogs ? " 
 
 Tuiren had indeed heard of him. 
 
 " It is to Fergus I shall bring you," cried Uct Dealv. 
 " He will throw stones at you. You have never had a stone 
 thrown at you. Ah, bad girl ! You do not know how a 
 stone sounds as it nips the ear with a whirling buzz, nor how 
 jagged and heavy it feels as it thumps against a skinny leg. 
 Robber ! Mortal ! Bad girl ! You have never been 
 whipped, but you will be whipped now. You shall hear 
 the song of a lash as it curls forward and bites inward and 
 drags backward. You shall dig up old bones stealthily at 
 night, and chew them against famine. You shall whine 
 and squeal at the moon, and shiver in the cold, and you will 
 never take another girl's sweetheart again." 
 
 100 
 
CHAP, in THE BIRTH OF BRAN 101 
 
 And it was in those terms and in that tone that she 
 spoke to Tuiren as they journeyed forward, so that the hound 
 trembled and shrank, and whined pitifully and in despair. 
 
 They came to Fergus Fionnliath's stronghold, and Uct 
 Dealv demanded admittance. 
 
 " Leave that dog outside," said the servant. 
 
 " I will not do so," said the pretended messenger. 
 
 " You can come in without the dog, or you can stay out 
 with the dog," said the surly guardian. 
 
 " By my hand," cried Uct Dealv, " I will come in with 
 this dog, or your master shall answer for it to Fionn." 
 
 At the name of Fionn the servant almost fell out of his 
 standing. He flew to acquaint his master, and Fergus 
 himself came to the great door of the stronghold. 
 
 " By my faith," he cried in amazement, " it is a dog." 
 
 " A dog it is," growled the glum servant. 
 
 " Go you away," said Fergus to Uct Dealv, " and when 
 you have killed the dog come back to me and I will give 
 you a present." 
 
 " Life and health, my good master, from Fionn, the son 
 of Uail, the son of Baiscne," said she to Fergus. 
 
 " Life and health back to Fionn," he replied. " Come 
 into the house and give your message, but leave the dog 
 outside, for I don't like dogs." 
 
 " The dog comes in," the messenger replied. 
 
 " How is that ? " cried Fergus angrily. 
 
 " Fionn sends you this hound to take care of until he 
 comes for her," said the messenger. 
 
 " I wonder at that," Fergus growled, " for Fionn knows 
 well that there is not a man in the world has less of a liking 
 for dogs than I have." 
 
 " However that may be, master, I have given Fionn's 
 
102 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, in 
 
 message, and here at my heel is the dog. Do you take 
 her or refuse her ? " 
 
 " If I could refuse anything to Fionn it would be a dog," 
 said Fergus, " but I could not refuse anything to Fionn, so 
 give me the hound." 
 
 Uct Dealv put the chain in his hand. 
 
 " Ah, bad dog ! " said she. 
 
 And then she went away well satisfied with her revenge, 
 and returned to her own people in the Shf. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 ON the following day Fergus called his servant : 
 
 " Has that dog stopped shivering yet ? " he asked. 
 
 " It has not, sir," said the servant. 
 
 " Bring the beast here," said his master, " for whoever 
 else is dissatisfied Fionn must be satisfied." 
 
 The dog was brought, and he examined it with a jaundiced 
 and bitter eye. 
 
 " It has the shivers indeed," he said. 
 
 " The shivers it has," said the servant. 
 
 " How do you cure the shivers ? " his master demanded, 
 for he thought that if the animal's legs dropped off Fionn 
 would not be satisfied. 
 
 " There is a way," said the servant doubtfully. 
 
 " If there is a way, tell it to me," cried his master 
 angrily. 
 
 " If you were to take the beast up in your arms and hug 
 it and kiss it, the shivers would stop," said the man. 
 
 " Do you mean ? " his master thundered, and he 
 
 stretched his hand for a club. 
 
 " I heard that," said the servant humbly. 
 
 " Take that dog up," Fergus commanded, " and hug it 
 and kiss it, and if I find a single shiver left in the beast I' 11 
 break your head." 
 
 103 
 
io 4 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 The man bent to the hound, but it snapped a piece out 
 of his hand, and nearly bit his nose off as well. 
 
 " That dog doesn't like me," said the man. 
 
 " Nor do I," roared Fergus ; " get out of my sight." 
 
 The man went away and Fergus was left alone with 
 the hound, but the poor creature was so terrified that it 
 began to tremble ten times worse than before. 
 
 " Its legs will drop off," said Fergus. " Fionn will 
 blame me," he cried in despair. 
 
 He walked to the hound. 
 
 " If you snap at my nose, or if you put as much as the 
 start of a tooth into the beginning of a finger ! " he growled. 
 
 He picked up the dog, but it did not snap, it only 
 trembled. He held it gingerly for a few moments. 
 
 " If it has to be hugged," he said, " I'll hug it. I'd 
 do more than that for Fionn." 
 
 He tucked and tightened the animal into his breast, 
 and marched moodily up and down the room. The dog's 
 nose lay along his breast under his chin, and as he gave it 
 dutiful hugs, one hug to every five paces, the dog put out 
 its tongue and licked him timidly under the chin. 
 
 " Stop," roared Fergus, " stop that for ever," and he 
 grew very red in the face, and stared truculently down along 
 his nose. A soft brown eye looked up at him and the shy 
 tongue touched again on his chin. 
 
 " If it has to be kissed," said Fergus gloomily, " I'll 
 kiss it. I'd do more than that for Fionn," he groaned. 
 
 He bent his head, shut his eyes, and brought the dog's 
 jaw against his lips. And at that the dog gave little wriggles 
 in his arms, and little barks, and little licks, so that he could 
 scarcely hold her. He put the hound down at last. 
 
 " There is not a single shiver left in her," he said. 
 
iv THE BIRTH OF BRAN 105 
 
 And that was true. 
 
 Everywhere he walked the dog followed him, giving 
 little prances and little pats against him, and keeping her 
 eyes fixed on his with such eagerness and intelligence that 
 he marvelled. 
 
 " That dog likes me," he murmured in amazement. 
 
 " By my hand," he cried next day, " I like that dog." 
 
 The day after that he was calling her " My One Treasure, 
 My Little Branch." And within a week he could not bear 
 her to be out of his sight for an instant. 
 
 He was tormented by the idea that some evil person 
 might throw a stone at the hound, so he assembled his 
 servants and retainers and addressed them. 
 
 He told them that the hound was the Queen of Creatures, 
 the Pulse of his Heart, and the Apple of his Eye, and he 
 warned them that the person who as much as looked side- 
 ways on her, or knocked one shiver out of her, would answer 
 for the deed with pains and indignities. He recited a list 
 of calamities which would befall such a miscreant, and these 
 woes began with flaying and ended with dismemberment, 
 and had inside bits of such complicated and ingenious tor- 
 ment that the blood of the men who heard it ran chill in their 
 veins, and the women of the household fainted where they 
 stood. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 IN course of time the news came to Fionn that his mother's 
 sister was not living with lollan. He at once sent a messenger 
 calling for fulfilment of the pledge that had been given to 
 the Fianna, and demanding the instant return of Tuiren. 
 lollan was in a sad condition when this demand was made. 
 He guessed that Uct Dealv had a hand in the disappearance 
 of his queen, and he begged that time should be given him 
 in which to find the lost girl. He promised if he could not 
 discover her within a certain period that he would deliver 
 his body into Fionn's hands, and would abide by what- 
 ever judgement Fionn might pronounce. The great captain 
 agreed to that. 
 
 " Tell the wife-loser that I will have the girl or I will 
 have his head," said Fionn. 
 
 lollan set out then for Faery. He knew the way, and 
 in no great time he came to the hill where Uct Dealv 
 was. 
 
 It was hard to get Uct Dealv to meet him, but at last 
 she consented, and they met under the apple boughs of 
 Faery. 
 
 " Well ! " said Uct Dealv. " Ah ! Breaker of Vows 
 and Traitor to Love," said she. 
 
 " Hail and a blessing," said lollan humbly. 
 
 106 
 
CHAP, v THE BIRTH OF BRAN 107 
 
 " By my hand/' she cried, " I will give you no blessing, 
 for it was no blessing you left with me when we parted." 
 
 " I am in danger," said lollan. 
 
 " What is that to me ? " she replied fiercely. 
 
 " Fionn may claim my head," he murmured. 
 
 " Let him claim what he can take," said she. 
 
 " No," said lollan proudly, " he will claim what I can 
 give." 
 
 " Tell me your tale," said she coldly. 
 
 lollan told his story then, and, he concluded, " I am 
 certain that you have hidden the girl." 
 
 " If I save your head from Fionn," the woman of the Shf 
 replied, " then your head will belong to me." 
 
 " That is true," said lollan. 
 
 " And if your head is mine, the body that goes under 
 it is mine. Do you agree to that ? " 
 
 " I do," said lollan. 
 
 " Give me your pledge," said Uct Dealv, " that if I 
 save you from this danger you will keep me as your sweet- 
 heart until the end of life and time." 
 
 " I give that pledge," said lollan. 
 
 Uct Dealv went then to the house of Fergus Fionnliath, 
 and she broke the enchantment that was on the hound, so 
 that Tuiren's own shape came back to her ; but in the matter 
 of two small whelps, to which the hound had given birth, 
 the enchantment could not be broken, so they had to remain 
 as they were. These two whelps were Bran and Sce61an. 
 They were sent to Fionn, and he loved them for ever after, 
 for they were loyal and affectionate, as only dogs can be, 
 and they were as intelligent as human beings. Besides that, 
 they were Fionn's own cousins. 
 
 Tuiren was then asked in marriage by Lugaidh who 
 
io8 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, v 
 
 had loved her so long. He had to prove to her that he was 
 not any other woman's sweetheart, and when he proved 
 that they were married, and they lived happily ever after, 
 which is the proper way to live. He wrote a poem beginning : 
 
 Lovely the day. Dear is the eye of the dawn 
 
 And a thousand merry people learned it after him. 
 
 But as to Fergus Fionnliath, he took to his bed, and he 
 stayed there for a year and a day suffering from blighted 
 affection, and he would have died in the bed only that Fionn 
 sent him a special pup, and in a week that young hound 
 became the Star of Fortune and the very Pulse of his Heart, 
 so that he got well again, and he also lived happily ever after. 
 
OISlN'S MOTHER 
 
 109 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 EVENING was drawing nigh, and the Fianna-Finn had 
 decided to hunt no more that day. The hounds were 
 whistled to heel, and a sober, homeward march began. 
 For men will walk soberly in the evening, however they 
 go in the day, and dogs will take the mood from their 
 masters. 
 
 They were pacing so, through the golden-shafted, 
 tender-coloured eve, when a fawn leaped suddenly from 
 covert, and, with that leap, all quietness vanished : the 
 men shouted, the dogs gave tongue, and a furious chase 
 commenced. 
 
ii2 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 Fionn loved a chase at any hour, and, with Bran and 
 Sce61an, he outstripped the men and dogs of his troop, 
 until nothing remained in the limpid world but Fionn, 
 the $wo hounds, and the nimble, beautiful fawn. These, 
 and tn^ occasional boulders, round which they raced, or 
 over winch they scrambled ; the solitary tree which dozed 
 aloof an^ beautiful in the path, the occasional clump of 
 trees thati hived sweet shadow as a hive hoards honey, and 
 the rustling grass that stretched to infinity, and that moved 
 and crept iMid swung under the breeze in endless, rhythmic 
 billowings. 
 
 In his wildest moment Fionn was thoughtful, and now, 
 although running hard, he was thoughtful. There was 
 no movement of his beloved hounds that he did not know ; 
 not a twitch or fling of the head, not a cock of the ears or 
 tail that was not significant to him. But on this chase 
 whatever signs the dogs gave were not understood by 
 their master. 
 
 He had never seen them in such eager flight. They 
 were almost utterly absorbed in it, but they did not whine 
 with eagerness, nor did they cast any glance towards him 
 for the encouraging word which he never failed to give 
 when they sought it. 
 
 They did look at him, but it was a look which he could 
 not comprehend. There was a question and a statement 
 in those deep eyes, and he could not understand what that 
 question might be, nor what it was they sought to convey. 
 Now and again one of the dogs turned a head in full flight, 
 and stared, not at Fionn, but distantly backwards, over 
 the spreading and swelling plain where their companions 
 of the hunt had disappeared. 
 
 " They are looking for the other hounds,'' said Fionn. 
 
i OISfN'S MOTHER 113 
 
 " And yet they do not give tongue ! Tongue it, a 
 Vran ! " he shouted, " bell it out, a He61an ! " 
 
 It was then they looked at him, the look which he 
 could not understand and had never seen on a chase. They 
 did not tongue it, nor bell it, but they added silence to 
 silence and speed to speed, until the lean grey bodies were 
 one pucker and lashing of movement. 
 
 Fionn marvelled. 
 
 " They do not want the other dogs to hear or to come 
 on this chase," he murmured, and he wondered what might 
 be passing within those slender heads. 
 
 " The fawn runs well," his thought continued. " What 
 is it, a Vran, my heart ? After her, a He61an ! Hist and 
 away, my loves ! " 
 
 " There is going and to spare in that beast yet," his 
 mind went on. " She is not stretched to the full, nor half 
 stretched. She may outrun even Bran," he thought ragingly. 
 
 They were racing through a smooth valley in a steady, 
 beautiful, speedy flight when, suddenly, the fawn stopped 
 and lay on the grass, and it lay with the calm of an animal 
 that has no fear, and the leisure of one that is not pressed. 
 
 " Here is a change," said Fionn, staring in astonishment. 
 " She is not winded," he said. " What is she lying down 
 for ? " 
 
 But Bran and Sce61an did not stop ; they added another 
 inch to their long-stretched easy bodies, and came up on the 
 fawn. 
 
 ' It is an easy kill," said Fionn regretfully. " They 
 have her," he cried. 
 
 But he was again astonished, for the dogs did not kill. 
 They leaped and played about the fawn, licking its face, 
 and rubbing delighted noses against its neck. 
 
n 4 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP.I 
 
 Fionn came up then. His long spear was lowered in 
 his fist at the thrust, and his sharp knife was in its sheath, 
 but he did not use them, for the fawn and the two hounds 
 began to play round him, and the fawn was as affectionate 
 towards him as the hounds were ; so that when a velvet 
 nose was thrust in his palm, it was as often a fawn's muzzle 
 as a hound's. 
 
 In that joyous company he came to wide Allen of Leinster, 
 where the people were surprised to see the hounds and the 
 fawn and the Chief and none other of the hunters that had 
 set out with them. 
 
 When the others reached home, the Chief told of his 
 chase, and it was agreed that such a fawn must not be killed, 
 but that it should be kept and well treated, and that it 
 should be the pet fawn of the Fianna. But some of those 
 who remembered Bran's parentage thought that as Bran 
 herself had come from the Shi so this fawn might have come 
 out of the Shf also. 
 
 , 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 LATE that night, when he was preparing for rest, the door 
 of Fionn's chamber opened gently and a young woman 
 came into the room. The captain stared at her, as he well 
 might, for he had never seen or imagined to see a woman 
 so beautiful as this was. Indeed, she was not a woman, but 
 a young girl, and her bearing was so gently noble, her look 
 so modestly high, that the champion dared scarcely look at 
 her, although he could not by any means have looked away. 
 
 As she stood within the doorway, smiling, and shy as 
 a flower, beautifully timid as a fawn, the Chief communed 
 with his heart : 
 
 " She is the Sky-woman of the Dawn," he said. " She 
 is the light on the foam. She is white and odorous as an 
 apple-blossom. She smells of spice and honey. She is my 
 beloved beyond the women of the world. She shall never 
 be taken from me." 
 
 And that thought was delight and anguish to him: 
 delight because of such sweet prospect, anguish because it 
 was not yet realised, and might not be. 
 
 As the dogs had looked at him on the chase with a 
 look that he did not understand, so she looked at him, and 
 in her regard there was a question that baffled him and a 
 statement which he could not follow. 
 
 "5 
 
n6 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 He spoke to her then, mastering his heart to do it. 
 
 " I do not seem to know you," he said. 
 
 " You do not know me indeed," she replied. 
 
 " It is the more wonderful," he continued gently, 
 " for I should know every person that is here. What do 
 you require from me ? >3 
 
 " I beg your protection, royal captain." 
 
 " I give that to all," he answered. " Against whom 
 do you desire protection ? >s 
 
 " I am in terror of the Fear Doirche." 
 
 " The Dark Man of the Shi ? " 
 
 " He is my enemy," she said. 
 
 " He is mine now," said Fionn. " Tell me your 
 story." 
 
 " My name is Saeve, and I am a woman of Faery," 
 she commenced. " In the Shf many men gave me their 
 love, but I gave my love to no man of my country." 
 
 " That was not reasonable," the other chided with a 
 blithe heart. 
 
 " I was contented," she replied, " and what we do 
 not want we do not lack. But if my love went anywhere 
 it went to a mortal, a man of the men of Ireland." 
 
 " By my hand," said Fionn in mortal distress, " I marvel 
 who that man can be ! >s 
 
 " He is known to you," she murmured. " I lived thus 
 in the peace of Faery, hearing often of my mortal champion, 
 for the rumour of his great deeds had gone through the Shf, 
 until a day came when the Black Magician of the Men of 
 God put his eye on me, and, after that day, in whatever 
 direction I looked I saw his eye." 
 
 She stopped at that, and the terror that was in her heart 
 was on her face. 
 
The door of Fiona's chamber opened gently and a young woman came : 
 
 the room. 
 
 To face pagt 1 1 
 
 

 
 
ii OISIN'S MOTHER 117 
 
 " He is everywhere," she whispered. " He is in the 
 bushes, and on the hill. He looked up at me from the 
 water, and he stared down on me from the sky. His voice 
 commands out of the spaces, and it demands secretly in the 
 heart. He is not here or there, he is in all places at all 
 times. I cannot escape from him," she said, " and I 
 am afraid," and at that she wept noiselessly and stared on 
 Fionn. 
 
 " He is my enemy," Fionn growled. " I name him as 
 my enemy." 
 
 " You will protect me ? " she implored. 
 
 " Where I am let him not come," said Fionn. " I also 
 have knowledge. I am Fionn, the son of Uail, the son of 
 Baiscne, a man among men and a god where the gods 
 
 are." 
 
 !< He asked me in marriage," she continued, " but my 
 mind was full of my own dear hero, and I refused the Dark 
 Man." 
 
 " That was your right, and I swear by my hand that if 
 the man you desire is alive and unmarried he shall marry 
 you or he will answer to me for the refusal." 
 
 !< He is not married," said Saeve, " and you have small 
 control over him." 
 
 The Chief frowned thoughtfully. 
 
 " Except the High King and the kings I have authority 
 in this land." 
 
 " What man has authority over himself? " said Saeve. 
 
 " Do you mean that I am the man you seek ? " said 
 Fionn. 
 
 " It is to yourself I gave my love," she replied. 
 
 " This is good news," Fionn cried joyfully, " for the 
 moment you came through the door I loved and desired 
 
n8 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP.II 
 
 you, and the thought that you wished for another man 
 went into my heart like a sword." 
 
 Indeed, Fionn loved Saeve as he had not loved a woman 
 before and would never love one again. He loved her as 
 he had never loved anything before. He could not bear 
 to be away from her. When he saw her he did not see 
 the world, and when he saw the world without her it was 
 as though he saw nothing, or as if he looked on a prospect 
 that was bleak and depressing. The belling of a stag had 
 been music to Fionn, but when Saeve spoke that was sound 
 enough for him. He had loved to hear the cuckoo calling 
 in the spring from the tree that is highest in the hedge, 
 or the blackbird's jolly whistle in an autumn bush, or the 
 thin, sweet enchantment that comes to the mind when a 
 lark thrills out of sight in the air and the hushed fields 
 listen to the song. But his wife's voice was sweeter to Fionn 
 than the singing of a lark. She filled him with wonder and 
 surmise. There was magic in the tips of her fingers. Her 
 thin palm ravished him. Her slender foot set his heart 
 beating ; and whatever way her head moved there came 
 a new shape of beauty to her face. 
 
 :< She is always new," said Fionn. " She is always 
 better than any other woman ; she is always better than 
 herself." 
 
 He attended no more to the Fianna. He ceased to 
 hunt. He did not listen to the songs of poets or the curious 
 sayings of magicians, for all of these were in his wife, and 
 something that was beyond these was in her also. 
 
 :< She is this world and the next one ; .she is, comple- 
 tion," said Fionn. 
 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 IT happened that the men of Lochlann came on an expe- 
 dition against Ireland. A monstrous fleet rounded the 
 bluffs of Ben Edair, and the Danes landed there, to prepare 
 an attack which would render them masters of the country. 
 Fionn and the Fianna-Finn marched against them. He 
 did not like the men of Lochlann at any time, but this 
 time he moved against them in wrath, for not only were 
 -they attacking Ireland, but they had come between him 
 and the deepest joy his life had known. 
 
 It was a hard fight, but a short one. The Lochlannachs 
 were driven back to their ships, and within a week the only 
 Danes remaining in Ireland were those that had been buried 
 there. 
 
 That finished, he left the victorious Fianna and re- 
 turned swiftly to the plain of Allen, for he could not bear 
 to be one unnecessary day parted from Saeve. 
 
 * You are not leaving us ! " exclaimed Goll mac 
 Morna. 
 
 " I must go," Fionn replied. 
 
 ' You will not desert the victory feast," Condn re- 
 proached him. 
 
 ;< Stay with us, Chief," Caelte begged. 
 ' What is a feast without Fionn ? " they complained. 
 
 119 
 
120 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 But he would not stay. 
 
 " By my hand," he cried, " I must go. She will be 
 looking for me from the window." 
 
 " That will happen indeed," Goll admitted. 
 
 " That will happen," cried Fionn. " And when she sees 
 me far out on the plain, she will run through the great gate 
 
 
 to meet me." 
 
 :< It would be the queer wife would neglect that run," 
 Condn growled. 
 
 " I shall hold her hand again," Fionn entrusted to 
 Cache's ear. 
 
 " You will do that, surely." 
 
 " I shall look into her face," his lord insisted. 
 
 But he saw that not even beloved Caelte understood 
 the meaning of that, and he knew sadly and yet proudly 
 that what he meant could not be explained by any one and 
 could not be comprehended by any one. 
 
 " You are in love, dear heart," said Caelte. 
 
 " In love he is," Condn grumbled. " A cordial for 
 women, a disease for men, a state of wretchedness." 
 
 " Wretched in truth," the Chief murmured. " Love 
 makes us poor. We have not eyes enough to see all that 
 is to be seen, nor hands enough to seize the tenth of all 
 we want. When I look in her eyes I am tormented 
 because I am not looking at her lips, and when I see 
 her lips my soul cries out, * Look at her eyes, look at her 
 eyes.' 
 
 ' That is how it happens," said Goll rememberingly. 
 ' That way and no other," Caelte agreed. 
 
 And the champions looked backwards in time on these 
 lips and those, and knew their Chief would go. 
 
 When Fionn came in sight of the great keep his blood 
 
in OISIN'S MOTHER 121 
 
 and his feet quickened, and now and again he waved a 
 spear in the air. 
 
 " She does not see me yet," he thought mournfully. 
 
 " She cannot see me yet," he amended, reproaching 
 himself. 
 
 But his mind was troubled, for he thought also, or he 
 felt without thinking, that had the positions been changed 
 he would have seen her at twice the distance. 
 
 " She thinks I have been unable to get away from the 
 battle, or that I was forced to remain for the feast." 
 
 And, without thinking it, he thought that had the 
 positions been changed he would have known that nothing 
 could retain the one that was absent. 
 
 " Women," he said, " are shamefaced, they do not like 
 to appear eager when others are observing them." 
 
 But he knew that he would not have known if others 
 were observing him, and that he would not have cared about 
 it if he had known. And he knew that his Saeve would not 
 have seen, and would not have cared for any eyes than his. 
 
 He gripped his spear on that reflection, and ran as he 
 had not run in his life, so that it was a panting, dishevelled 
 man that raced heavily through the gates of the great 
 Dun. 
 
 Within the Dun there was disorder. Servants were 
 shouting to one another, and women were running to and fro 
 aimlessly, wringing their hands and screaming ; and, when 
 they saw the Champion, those nearest to him ran away, 
 and there was a general effort on the part of every person 
 to get behind every other person. But Fionn caught the 
 eye of his butler, Gariv Cronan, the Rough Buzzer, and 
 held it. 
 
 !< Come you here," he said. 
 
122 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP.III 
 
 And the Rough Buzzer came to him without a single 
 buzz in his body. 
 
 " Where is the Flower of Allen ? " his master demanded. 
 
 " I do not know, master," the terrified servant replied. 
 
 " You do not know ! " said Fionn. " Tell what you 
 do know." 
 
 And the man told him this story. 
 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 " WHEN you had been away for a day the guards were 
 surprised. They were looking from the heights of the 
 Dun, and the Flower of Allen was with them. She, for 
 she had a quest's eye, called out that the master of the 
 Fianna was coming over the ridges to the Dun, and she 
 ran from the keep to meet you." 
 
 " It was not I," said Fionn. 
 
 " It bore your shape," replied Gariv Crondn. " It had 
 your armour and your face, and the dogs, Bran and Sce61an, 
 were with it." 
 
 " They were with me," said Fionn. 
 
 " They seemed to be with it," said the servant humbly. 
 
 " Tell us this tale," cried Fionn. 
 
 " We were distrustful," the servant continued. " We 
 had never known Fionn to return from a combat before it 
 had been fought, and we knew you could not have reached 
 Ben Edair or encountered the Lochlannachs. So we urged 
 our lady to let us go out to meet you, but to remain herself 
 in the Dun." 
 
 " It was good urging," Fionn assented. 
 
 " She would not be advised," the servant wailed. She 
 cried to us, * Let me go to meet my love.' " 
 
 " Alas ! " said Fionn. 
 
 123 
 
124 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 ;< She cried on us, * Let me go to meet my husband, 
 the father of the child that is not born.' " 
 
 " Alas ! " groaned deep-wounded Fionn. 
 
 " She ran towards your appearance that had your arms 
 stretched out to her." 
 
 At that wise Fionn put his hand before his eyes, seeing 
 all that happened. 
 
 " Tell on your tale," said he. 
 
 " She ran to those arms, and when she reached them 
 the figure lifted its hand. It touched her with a hazel 
 rod, and, while we looked, she disappeared, and where 
 she had been there was a fawn standing and shivering. 
 The fawn turned and bounded towards the gate of the Dun, 
 but the hounds that were by flew after her." 
 
 Fionn stared on him like a lost man. 
 
 " They took her by the throat " the shivering 
 
 servant whispered. 
 
 ;< Ah ! " cried Fionn in a terrible voice. 
 
 " And they dragged her back to the figure that seemed 
 to be Fionn. Three times she broke away and came 
 bounding to us, and three times the dogs took her by 
 the throat and dragged her back." 
 
 " You stood to look ! " the Chief snarled. 
 
 " No, master, we ran, but she vanished as we got to her ; 
 the great hounds vanished away, and that being that 
 seemed to be Fionn disappeared with them. We were left 
 in the rough grass, staring about us and at each other, 
 and listening to the moan of the wind and the terror of 
 our hearts." 
 
 " Forgive us, dear master," the servant cried. 
 
 But the great captain made him no answer. He stood 
 as though he were dumb and blind, and now and again 
 
 
iv OISIN'S MOTHER 125 
 
 he beat terribly on his breast with his closed fist, as though 
 he would kill that within him which should be dead and 
 could not die. He went so, beating on his breast, to his 
 inner room in the Dun, and he was not seen again for the 
 rest of that day, nor until the sun rose over Moy Life in 
 the morning. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 FOR many years after that time, when he was not fighting 
 against the enemies of Ireland, Fionn was searching and 
 hunting through the length and breadth of the country 
 in the hope that he might again chance on his lovely lady 
 from the Shf. Through all that time he slept in misery 
 each night and he rose each day to grief. Whenever he 
 hunted he brought only the hounds that he trusted, Bran 
 and Sce61an, Lomaire, Brod, and Lomlu ; for if a fawn was 
 chased each of these five great dogs would know if that was 
 a fawn to be killed or one to be protected, and so there 
 was small danger to Saeve and a small hope of finding her. 
 
 Once, when seven years had passed in fruitless search, 
 Fionn and the chief nobles of the Fianna were hunting 
 Ben Gulbain. All the hounds of the Fianna were out, 
 for Fionn had now given up hope of encountering the 
 Flower of Allen. As the hunt swept along the sides of the 
 hill there arose a great outcry of hounds from a narrow 
 place high on the slope, and over all that uproar there came 
 the savage baying of Fionn's own dogs. 
 
 " What is this for ? " said Fionn, and with his companions 
 he pressed to the spot whence the noise came. 
 
 " They are fighting all the hounds of the Fianna," 
 cried a champion. 
 
 126 
 
CHAP.V OISI'N'S MOTHER 127 
 
 And they were. The five wise hounds were in a circle 
 and were giving battle to an hundred dogs at once. They 
 were bristling and terrible, and each bite from those great, 
 keen jaws was woe to the beast that received it. Nor did 
 they fight in silence as was their custom and training, but 
 between each onslaught the great heads were uplifted, and 
 they pealed loudly, mournfully, urgently, for their master. 
 
 " They are calling on me," he roared. 
 
 And with that he ran, as he had only once before run, 
 and the men who were nigh to him went racing as they 
 would not have run for their lives. 
 
 They came to the narrow place on the slope of the 
 mountain, and they saw the five great hounds in a circle 
 keeping off the other dogs, and in the middle of the ring 
 a little boy was standing. He had long, beautiful hair, 
 and he was naked. He was not daunted by the terrible 
 combat and clamour of the hounds. He did not look at 
 the hounds, but he stared like a young prince at Fionn 
 and the champions as they rushed towards him scattering 
 the pack with the butts of their spears. When the fight 
 was over, Bran and Sce61an ran whining to the little boy 
 and licked his hands. 
 
 " They do that to no one," said a bystander. " What 
 new master is this they have found ? >! 
 
 Fionn bent to the boy. 
 
 " Tell me, my little prince and pulse, what your name 
 is, and how you have come into the middle of a hunting- 
 pack, and why you are naked ? >: 
 
 But the boy did not understand the language of the 
 men of Ireland. He put his hand into Fionn's, and the 
 Chief felt as if that little hand had been put into his heart. 
 He lifted the lad to his great shoulder. 
 

 128 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP.V 
 
 " We have caught something on this hunt," said he 
 to Caelte mac Rondn. " We must bring this treasure 
 home. You shall be one of the Fianna-Finn, my darling," 
 he called upwards. 
 
 The boy looked down on him, and in the noble trust 
 and fearlessness of that regard Fionn's heart melted away. 
 
 " My little fawn ! " he said. 
 
 And he remembered that other fawn. He set the boy 
 between his knees and stared at him earnestly and long. 
 
 " There is surely the same look," he said to his wakening 
 heart ; " that is the very eye of Saeve." 
 
 The grief flooded out of his heart as at a stroke, and joy 
 foamed into it in one great tide. He marched back singing 
 to the encampment, and men saw once more the merry 
 Chief they had almost forgotten. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 JUST as at one time he could not be parted from Saeve, so 
 now he could not be separated from this boy. He had a 
 thousand names for him, each one more tender than the 
 last : " My Fawn, My Pulse, My Secret Little Treasure, 5 ' 
 or he would call him " My Music, My Blossoming Branch, 
 My Store in the Heart, My Soul." And the dogs were 
 as wild for the boy as Fionn was. He could sit in safety 
 among a pack that would have torn any man to pieces, 
 and the reason was that Bran and Sce61an, with their three 
 whelps, followed him about like shadows. When he was 
 with the pack these five were with him, and woeful indeed 
 was the eye they turned on their comrades when these 
 pushed too closely or were not properly humble. They 
 thrashed the pack severally and collectively until every 
 hound in Fionn's kennels knew that the little lad was their 
 master, and that there was nothing in the world so sacred 
 as he was. 
 
 In no long time the five wise hounds could have given 
 over their guardianship, so complete was the recognition 
 of their young lord. But they did not so give over, for it 
 was not love they gave the lad but adoration. 
 
 Fionn even may have been embarrassed by their too 
 close attendance. If he had been able to do so he might 
 
 129 K 
 
i 3 o IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, vi 
 
 have spoken harshly to his dogs, but he could not ; it was 
 unthinkable that he should ; and the boy might have 
 spoken harshly to him if he had dared to do it. For this 
 was the order of Fionn's affection : first there was the boy ; 
 next, Bran and Sce61an with their three whelps ; then 
 Caelte mac Ronan, and from him down through the 
 champions. He loved them all, but it was along that pre- 
 cedence his affections ran. The thorn that went into 
 Bran's foot ran into Fionn's also. The world knew it, 
 and there was not a champion but admitted sorrowfully 
 that there was reason for his love. 
 
 Little by little the boy came to understand their speech 
 and to speak it himself, and at last he was able to tell his 
 story to Fionn. 
 
 There were many blanks in the tale, for a young child 
 does not remember very well. Deeds grow old in a day 
 and are buried in a night. New memories come crowding 
 on old ones, and one must learn to forget as well as to 
 remember. A whole new life had come on this boy, a life 
 that was instant and memorable, so that his present memories 
 blended into and obscured the past, and he could not be 
 quite sure if that which he told of had happened in this 
 world or in the world he had left. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 " I USED to live," he said, " in a wide, beautiful place. 
 There were hills and valleys there, and woods and streams, 
 but in whatever direction I went I came always to a cliff, 
 so tall it seemed to lean against the sky, and so straight that 
 even a goat would not have imagined to climb it." 
 
 :< I do not know of any such place," Fionn mused. 
 
 ' There is no such place in Ireland," said Caelte, 
 " but in the Shf there is such a place." 
 
 ' There is in truth," said Fionn. 
 
 " I used to eat fruits and roots in the summer," the boy 
 continued, " but in the winter food was left for me in a 
 
 cave." 
 
 * Was there no one with you ? " Fionn asked. 
 
 " No one, but a deer that loved me, and that I loved." 
 
 " Ah me ! " cried Fionn in anguish, " tell me your tale, 
 my son." 
 
 !< A dark stern man came often after us, and he used 
 to speak with the deer. Sometimes he talked gently and 
 softly and coaxingly, but at times again he would shout 
 loudly and in a harsh, angry voice. But whatever way 
 he talked the deer would draw away from him in dread, 
 and he always left her at last furiously." 
 
 " It is the Dark Magician of the Men of God," cried 
 Fionn despairingly. 
 
132 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP.VII 
 
 " It is indeed, my soul," said Caelte. 
 
 " The last time I saw the deer," the child continued, 
 " the dark man was speaking to her. He spoke for a long 
 time. He spoke gently and angrily, and gently and 
 angrily, so that I thought he would never stop talking, 
 but in the end he struck her with a hazel rod, so that she 
 was forced to follow him when he went away. She was 
 looking back at me all the time and she was crying so 
 bitterly that any one would pity her. I tried to follow her 
 also, but I could not move, and I cried after her too, with 
 rage and grief, until I could see her no more and hear her 
 no more. Then I fell on the grass, my senses went away 
 from me, and when I awoke I was on the hill in the middle 
 of the hounds where you found me." 
 
 That was the boy whom the Fianna called Oisin, or the 
 Little Fawn. He grew to be a great fighter afterwards, 
 and he was the chief maker of poems in the world. But 
 he was not yet finished with the Shf. He was to go back 
 into Faery when the time came, and to come thence again 
 to tell these tales, for it was by him these tales were told. 
 
THE WOOING OF BECFOLA 
 
 133 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 WE do not know where Becfola came from. Nor do we 
 know for certain where she went to. We do not even know 
 her real name, for the name Becfola, " Dowerless " or " Small- 
 dowered," was given to her as a nickname. This only is 
 certain, that she disappeared from the world we know of, 
 and that she went to a realm where even conjecture may 
 not follow her. 
 
 It happened in the days when Dermod, son of the 
 famous Ae of Slane, was monarch of all Ireland. He was 
 unmarried, but he had many foster-sons, princes from the 
 Four Provinces, who were sent by their fathers as tokens 
 of loyalty and affection to the Ard-Ri, and his duties as a 
 foster-father were righteously acquitted. Among the young 
 princes of his household there was one, Crimthann, son of Ae, 
 King of Leinster, whom the High King preferred to the 
 others over whom he held fatherly sway. Nor was this 
 
 135 
 
136 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 wonderful, for the lad loved him also, and was as eager and 
 intelligent and modest as becomes a prince. 
 
 The High King and Crimthann would often set out from 
 Tara to hunt and hawk, sometimes unaccompanied even by 
 a servant ; and on these excursions the king imparted to his 
 foster-son his own wide knowledge of forest craft, and 
 advised him generally as to the bearing and duties of a 
 prince, the conduct of a court, and the care of a people. 
 
 Dermod mac Ae delighted in these solitary adventures, 
 and when he could steal a day from policy and affairs he 
 would send word privily to Crimthann. The boy, having 
 donned his hunting gear, would join the king at a place 
 arranged between them, and then they ranged abroad as 
 chance might direct. 
 
 On one of these adventures, as they searched a flooded 
 river to find the ford, they saw a solitary woman in a chariot 
 driving from the west. 
 
 " I wonder what that means ? " the king exclaimed 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 ' Why should you wonder at a woman in a chariot ? " 
 his companion inquired, for Crimthann loved and would 
 have knowledge. 
 
 " Good, my Treasure," Dermod answered, " our minds 
 are astonished when we see a woman able to drive a cow to 
 pasture, for it has always seemed to us that they do not drive 
 well." 
 
 Crimthann absorbed instruction like a sponge and digested 
 it as rapidly. 
 
 " I think that is justly said," he agreed. 
 1 But," Dermod continued, " when we see a woman 
 driving a chariot of two horses, then we are amazed indeed." 
 
 When the machinery of anything is explained to us we 
 
i THE WOOING OF BECFOLA 137 
 
 grow interested, and Crimthann became, by instruction, as 
 astonished as the king was. 
 
 " In good truth/' said he, " the woman is driving two 
 horses." 
 
 " Had you not observed it before ? " his master asked 
 with kindly malice. 
 
 " I had observed but not noticed," the young man admitted. 
 
 " Further," said the king, " surmise is aroused in us when 
 we discover a woman far from a house ; for you will have 
 both observed and noticed that women are home-dwellers, 
 and that a house without a woman or a woman without a 
 house are imperfect objects, and although they be but half 
 observed, they are noticed on the double." 
 
 " There is no doubting it," the prince answered from 
 a knitted and thought-tormented brow. 
 
 " We shall ask this woman for information about her- 
 self," said the king decidedly. 
 
 " Let us do so," his ward agreed. 
 
 ' The king's majesty uses the words * we ' and ' us ' when 
 referring to the king's majesty," said Dermod, " but princes 
 who do not yet rule territories must use another form of 
 speech when referring to themselves." 
 
 E< I am very thoughtless," said Crimthann humbly. 
 
 The king kissed him on both cheeks. 
 
 " Indeed, my dear heart and my son, we are not scolding 
 you, but you must try not to look so terribly thoughtful 
 when you think. It is part of the art of a ruler." 
 
 " I shall never master that hard art," lamented his 
 fosterling. 
 
 " We must all master it," Dermod replied. " We may 
 think with our minds and with our tongues, but we should 
 never think with our noses and with our eyebrows." 
 
138 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 The woman in the chariot had drawn nigh to the ford 
 by which they were standing, and, without pause, she 
 swung her steeds into the shallows and came across the river 
 in a tumult of foam and spray. 
 
 " Does she not drive well ? " cried Crimthann admir- 
 ingly. 
 
 " When you are older," the king counselled him, " you 
 will admire that which is truly admirable, for although the 
 driving is good the lady is better." 
 
 He continued with enthusiasm : 
 
 " She is in truth a wonder of the world and an endless 
 delight to the eye." 
 
 She was all that and more, and, as she took the horses 
 through the river and lifted them up the bank, her flying 
 hair and parted lips and all the young strength and grace 
 of her body went into the king's eye and could not easily 
 come out again. 
 
 Nevertheless, it was upon his ward that the lady's gaze 
 rested, and if the king could scarcely look away from her, 
 she could, but only with an equal effort, look away from 
 Crimthann. 
 
 " Halt there ! " cried the king. 
 
 ' Whom should I halt for ? " the lady demanded, halting 
 all the same, as is the manner of women, who rebel against 
 command and yet receive it. 
 
 1 Halt for Dermod ! " 
 
 ' There are Dermods and Dermods in this world," she 
 quoted. 
 
 * There is yet but one Ard-Ri," the monarch answered. 
 
 She then descended from the chariot and made her 
 
 reverence. 
 
 
 I wish to know your name ? " said he. 
 
i THE WOOING OF BECFOLA 139 
 
 But at this demand the lady frowned and answered 
 decidedly : 
 
 " I do not wish to tell it." 
 
 " I wish to know also where you come from and to what 
 place you are going ? " 
 
 " I do not wish to tell any of these things." 
 
 "Not to the king?' 3 
 
 " I do not wish to tell them to any one." 
 
 Crimthann was scandalised. 
 
 " Lady," he pleaded, " you will surely not withhold 
 information from the Ard-R{ ? " 
 
 But the lady stared as royally on the High King as 
 the High King did on her, and, whatever it was he saw in 
 those lovely eyes, the king did not insist. 
 
 He drew Crimthann apart, for he withheld no instruction 
 from that lad. 
 
 " My heart," he said, " we must always try to act wisely, 
 and we should only insist on receiving answers to questions 
 in which we are personally concerned." 
 
 Crimthann imbibed all the justice of that remark. 
 * Thus I do not really require to know this lady's name, 
 nor do I care from what direction she comes." 
 
 " You do not ? " Crimthann asked. 
 
 " No, but what I do wish to know is, Will she marry 
 me?" 
 
 " By my hand that is a notable question," his companion 
 stammered. 
 
 " It is a question that must be answered," the king cried 
 triumphantly. " But," he continued, " to learn what woman 
 she is, or where she comes from, might bring us torment as 
 well as information. Who knows in what adventures the 
 past has engaged her ! " 
 
140 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, i 
 
 And he stared for a profound moment on disturbing, 
 sinister horizons, and Crimthann meditated there with him. 
 
 * The past is hers," he concluded, " but the future is 
 ours, and we shall only demand that which is pertinent to 
 the future." 
 
 He returned to the lady. 
 
 ' We wish you to be our wife," he said. 
 
 And he gazed on her benevolently and firmly and care- 
 fully when he said that, so that her regard could not stray 
 otherwhere. Yet, even as he looked, a tear did well into 
 those lovely eyes, and behind her brow a thought moved 
 of the beautiful boy who was looking at her from the king's 
 side. 
 
 But when the High King of Ireland asks us to marry 
 him we do not refuse, for it is not a thing that we shall be 
 asked to do every day in the week, and there is no woman 
 in the world but would love to rule it in Tara. 
 
 No second tear crept on the lady's lashes, and, with her 
 hand in the king's hand, they paced together towards the 
 palace, while behind them, in melancholy mood, Crimthann 
 mac Ae led the horses and the chariot. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 THEY were married in a haste which equalled the king's 
 desire ; and as he did not again ask her name, and as she did 
 not volunteer to give it, and as she brought no dowry to her 
 husband and received none from him, she was called Becfola, 
 the Dowerless. 
 
 Time passed, and the king's happiness was as great as 
 his expectation of it had promised. But on the part of 
 Becfola no similar tidings can be given. 
 
 There are those whose happiness lies in ambition and 
 station, and to such a one the fact of being queen to the 
 High King of Ireland is a satisfaction at which desire is 
 sated. But the mind of Becfola was not of this temperate 
 quality, and, lacking Crimthann, it seemed to her that she 
 possessed nothing. 
 
 For to her mind he was the sunlight in the sun, the 
 brightness in the moonbeam ; he was the savour in fruit and 
 the taste in honey ; and when she looked from Crimthann 
 to the king she could not but consider that the right man 
 was in the wrong place. She thought that crowned only with 
 
 141 
 
I 4 2 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, 
 
 his curls Crimthann mac Ae was more nobly diademed than 
 are the masters of the world, and she told him so. 
 
 His terror on hearing this unexpected news was so great 
 that he meditated immediate flight from Tara ; but when 
 a thing has been uttered once it is easier said the second 
 time, and on the third repetition it is patiently listened to. 
 
 After no great delay Crimthann mac Ae agreed and 
 arranged that he and Becfola should fly from Tara, and it 
 was part of their understanding that they should live happily 
 ever after. 
 
 One morning, when not even a bird was astir, the king 
 felt that his dear companion was rising. He looked with one 
 eye at the light that stole greyly through the window, and 
 recognised that it could not in justice be called light. 
 
 " There is not even a bird up," he murmured. 
 
 And then to Becfola : 
 
 " What is the early rising for, dear heart ? " 
 
 " An engagement I have," she replied. 
 
 ' This is not a time for engagements," said the calm 
 monarch. 
 
 :< Let it be so," she replied, and she dressed rapidly. 
 
 " And what is the engagement ? " he pursued. 
 
 " Raiment that I left at a certain place and must 
 have. Eight silken smocks embroidered with gold, eight 
 precious brooches of beaten gold, three diadems of pure 
 gold." 
 
 " At this hour," said the patient king, " the bed is better 
 than the road." 
 
 :< Let it be so," said she. 
 
 " And moreover," he continued, " a Sunday journey 
 brings bad luck." 
 
 " Let the luck come that will come," she answered. 
 
ii THE WOOING OF BECFOLA 143 
 
 " To keep a cat from cream or a woman from her gear is 
 not work for a king," said the monarch severely. 
 
 The Ard-Ri could look on all things with composure, 
 and regard all beings with a tranquil eye ; but it should be 
 known that there was one deed entirely hateful to him, and 
 he would punish its commission with the very last rigour 
 this was, a transgression of the Sunday. During six days of 
 the week all that could happen might happen, so far as 
 Dermod was concerned, but on the seventh day nothing 
 should happen at all if the High King could restrain it. 
 Had it been possible he would have tethered the birds to 
 their own green branches on that day, and forbidden the 
 clouds to pack the upper world with stir and colour. These 
 the king permitted, with a tight lip, perhaps, but all else 
 that came under his hand felt his control. 
 
 It was his custom when he arose on the morn of Sunday 
 to climb to the most elevated point of Tara, and gaze thence 
 on every side, so that he might see if any fairies or people 
 of the Shi were disporting themselves in his lordship ; for 
 he absolutely prohibited the usage of the earth to these 
 beings on the Sunday, and woe's worth was it for the sweet 
 being he discovered breaking his law. 
 
 We do not know what ill he could do to the fairies, but 
 during Dermod's reign the world said its prayers on Sunday 
 and the Shi folk stayed in their hills. 
 
 It may be imagined, therefore, with what wrath he saw 
 his wife's preparations for her journey, but, although a 
 king can do everything, what can a husband do . . . ? He 
 rearranged himself for slumber. 
 
 " I am no party to this untimely journey," he said angrily. 
 
 " Let it be so," said Becfola. 
 
 She left the palace with one maid, and as she crossed the 
 
i 4 4 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, 
 
 doorway something happened to her, but by what means 
 it happened would be hard to tell ; for in the one pace she 
 passed out of the palace and out of the world, and the second 
 step she trod was in Faery, but she did not know this. 
 
 Her intention was to go to Cluain da chaillech to meet 
 Crimthann, but when she left the palace she did not remember 
 Crimthann any more. 
 
 To her eye and to the eye of her maid the world was as 
 it always had been, and the landmarks they knew were 
 about them. But the object for which they were travelling 
 was different, although unknown, and the people they passed 
 on the roads were unknown, and were yet people that they 
 knew. 
 
 They set out southwards from Tara into the Duffry of 
 Leinster, and after some time they came into wild country 
 and went astray. At last Becfola halted, saying : 
 
 " I do not know where we are." 
 
 The maid replied that she also did not know. 
 
 " Yet," said Becfola, " if we continue to walk straight 
 on we shall arrive somewhere." 
 
 They went on, and the maid watered the road with her 
 tears. 
 
 Night drew on them ; a grey chill, a grey silence, and 
 they were enveloped in that chill and silence ; and they began 
 to go in expectation and terror, for they both knew and did 
 not know that which they were bound for. 
 
 As they toiled desolately up the rustling and whispering 
 side of a low hill the maid chanced to look back, and when 
 she looked back she screamed and pointed, and clung to 
 Becfola's arm. Becfola followed the pointing finger, and 
 saw below a large black mass that moved jerkily forward. 
 
 " Wolves ! " cried the maid. 
 
She looked with angry woe at the straining and snarling horde below. 
 
 To face page 144. 
 
ii THE WOOING OF BECFOLA 145 
 
 " Run to the trees yonder," her mistress ordered. " We 
 will climb them and sit among the branches." 
 
 They ran then, the maid moaning and lamenting all the 
 while. 
 
 " I cannot climb a tree," she sobbed, " I shall be eaten 
 by the wolves." 
 
 And that was true. 
 
 But her mistress climbed a tree, and drew by a hand's 
 breadth from the rap and snap and slaver of those steel jaws. 
 Then, sitting on a branch, she looked with angry woe at 
 the straining and snarling horde below, seeing many a white 
 fang in those grinning jowls, and the smouldering, red blink 
 of those leaping and prowling eyes. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 BUT after some time the moon arose and the wolves went 
 away, for their leader, a sagacious and crafty chief, declared 
 that as long as they remained where they were, the lady would 
 remain where she was ; and so, with a hearty curse on trees, 
 the troop departed. 
 
 Becfola had pains in her legs from the way she had 
 wrapped them about the branch, but there was no part of 
 her that did not ache, for a lady does not sit with any ease 
 upon a tree. 
 
 For some time she did not care to come down from the 
 branch. 
 
 " Those wolves may return," she said, " for their chief 
 is crafty and sagacious, and it is certain, from the look I 
 caught in his eye as he departed, that he would rather taste 
 of me than eat any woman he has met." 
 
 She looked carefully in every direction to see if she might 
 discover them in hiding ; she looked closely and lingeringly 
 at the shadows under distant trees to see if these shadows 
 moved ; and she listened on every wind to try if she could 
 distinguish a yap or a yawn or a sneeze. 
 
 But she saw or heard nothing ; and little by little tran- 
 quillity crept into her mind, and she began to consider that a 
 danger which is past is a danger that may be neglected. 
 
 Yet ere she descended she looked again on the world of 
 
 146 
 
CHAP, in THE WOOING OF BECFOLA 147 
 
 v 
 
 jet and silver that dozed about her, and she spied a red 
 glimmer among distant trees. 
 
 " There is no danger where there is light," she said, and 
 she thereupon came from the tree and ran in the direction 
 that she had noted. 
 
 In a spot between three great oaks she came upon a man 
 who was roasting a wild boar over a fire. She saluted this 
 youth and sat beside him. But after the first glance and 
 greeting he did not look at her again, nor did he speak. 
 
 When the boar was cooked he ate of it and she had her 
 share. Then he arose from the fire and walked away among 
 the trees. Becfola followed, feeling ruefully that something 
 new to her experience had arrived ; " For," she thought, " it is 
 usual that young men should not speak to me now that I am 
 the mate of a king, but it is very unusual that young men 
 should not look at me." 
 
 But if the young man did not look at her she looked 
 well at him, and what she saw pleased her so much that she 
 had no time for further cogitation. For if Crimthann had 
 been beautiful, this youth was ten times more beautiful. 
 The curls on Crimthann's head had been indeed as a bene- 
 diction to the queen's eye, so that she had eaten the better 
 and slept the sounder for seeing him. But the sight of this 
 youth left her without the desire to eat, and, as for sleep, she 
 dreaded it, for if she closed an eye she would be robbed of 
 the one delight in time, which was to look at this young 
 man, and not to cease looking at him while her eye could 
 peer or her head could remain upright. 
 
 They came to an inlet of the sea all sweet and calm under 
 the round, silver-flooding moon, and the young man, with 
 Becfola treading on his heel, stepped into a boat and rowed 
 to a high-jutting, pleasant island. There they went inland 
 
148 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 towards a vast palace, in which there was no person but 
 themselves alone, and there the young man went to sleep, 
 while Becfola sat staring at him until the unavoidable peace 
 pressed down her eyelids and she too slumbered. 
 
 She was awakened in the morning by a great shout. 
 
 " Come out, Flann, come out, my heart ! " 
 
 The young man leaped from his couch, girded on his 
 harness, and strode out. Three young men met him, each 
 in battle harness, and these four advanced to meet four 
 other men who awaited them at a little distance on the lawn. 
 Then these two sets of four fought together with every 
 warlike courtesy but with every warlike severity, and at the 
 end of that combat there was but one man standing, and the 
 other seven lay tossed in death. 
 
 Becfola spoke to the youth. 
 
 " Your combat has indeed been gallant," she said. 
 
 " Alas," he replied, " if it has been a gallant deed it has 
 not been a good one, for my three brothers are dead and 
 my four nephews are dead." 
 
 " Ah me ! " cried Becfola, " why did you fight that 
 fight ? " 
 
 " For the lordship of this island, the Isle of Fedach, son 
 of Dall." 
 
 But, although Becfola was moved and horrified by this 
 battle, it was in another direction that her interest lay ; 
 therefore she soon asked the question which lay next her 
 heart : 
 
 ' Why would you not speak to me or look at me ? " 
 
 " Until I have won the kingship of this land from all 
 claimants, I am no match for the mate of the High King of 
 Ireland," he replied. 
 
 And that reply was like balm to the heart of Becfola. 
 
in THE WOOING OF BECFOLA 149 
 
 " What shall I do ? " she inquired radiantly. 
 
 " Return to your home," he counselled. " I will escort 
 you there with your maid, for she is not really dead, and 
 when I have won my lordship I will go seek you in Tara." 
 
 " You will surely come," she insisted. 
 
 " By my hand," quoth he, " I will come." 
 
 These three returned then, and at the end of a day and 
 night they saw far off the mighty roofs of Tara massed in 
 the morning haze. The young man left them, and with 
 many a backward look and with dragging, reluctant feet, 
 Becfola crossed the threshold of the palace, wondering what 
 she should say to Dermod and how she could account for 
 an absence of three days' duration. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 IT was so early that not even a bird was yet awake, and the 
 dull grey light that came from the atmosphere enlarged and 
 made indistinct all that one looked at, and swathed all things 
 in a cold and livid gloom. 
 
 &fi.s she trod cautiously through dim corridors Becfola 
 was glad that, saving the guards, no creature was astir, and 
 that for some time yet she need account to no person for 
 her movements. She was glad also of a respite which 
 would enable her to settle into her home and draw about 
 her the composure which women feel when they are sur- 
 rounded by the walls of their houses, and can see about 
 them the possessions which, by the fact of ownership, have 
 become almost a part of their personality. Sundered from 
 her belongings, no woman is tranquil, her heart is not truly 
 at ease, however her mind may function, so that under the 
 broad sky or in the house of another she is not the com- 
 petent, precise individual which she becomes when she sees 
 again her household in order and her domestic requirements 
 at her hand. 
 
 Becfola pushed the door of the king's sleeping chamber 
 and entered noiselessly. Then she sat quietly in a seat 
 gazing on the recumbent monarch, and prepared to consider 
 how she should advance to him when he awakened, and with 
 what information she might stay his inquiries or reproaches. 
 
 150 
 
CHAP, iv THE WOOING OF BECFOLA 151 
 
 " I will reproach him/' she thought. " I will call him a 
 bad husband and astonish him, and he will forget everything 
 but his own alarm and indignation." 
 
 But at that moment the king lifted his head from the 
 pillow and looked kindly at her. 
 
 Her heart gave a great throb, and she prepared to speak 
 at once and in great volume before he could formulate any 
 question. But the king spoke first, and what he said so 
 astonished her that the explanation and reproach with 
 which her tongue was thrilling fled from it at a stroke, and 
 she could only sit staring and bewildered and tongue-tied. 
 
 " Well, my dear heart," said the king, " have you de- 
 cided not to keep that engagement ? " 
 
 " I I ! " Becfola stammered. 
 
 " It is truly not an hour for engagements," Dermod 
 insisted, " for not a bird of the birds has left his tree ; and," 
 he continued maliciously, " the light is such that you could 
 not see an engagement even if you met one." 
 
 " I," Becfola gasped. " I ! " 
 
 " A Sunday journey," he went on, " is a notoriously bad 
 journey. No good can come from it. You can get your 
 smocks and diadems to-morrow. But at this hour a wise 
 person leaves engagements to the bats and the staring owls 
 and the round-eyed creatures that prowl and sniff in the 
 dark. Come back to the warm bed, sweet woman, and set 
 out on your journey in the morning." 
 
 Such a load of apprehension was lifted from Becfola's 
 heart that she instantly did as she had been commanded, 
 and such a bewilderment had yet possession of her faculties 
 that she could not think or utter a word on any subject. 
 
 Yet the thought did come into her head as she stretched 
 in the warm gloom that Crimthann the son of Ae must be 
 
152 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, iv 
 
 now attending her at Cluain da chaillech, and she thought 
 of that young man as of something wonderful and very 
 ridiculous, and the fact that he was waiting for her troubled 
 her no more than if a sheep had been waiting for her or a 
 roadside bush. 
 She fell asleep. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 IN the morning as they sat at breakfast four clerics were 
 announced, and when they entered the king looked on them 
 with stern disapproval. 
 
 " What is the meaning of this journey on Sunday ? " 
 he demanded. 
 
 A lank-jawed, thin-browed brother, with uneasy, inter- 
 twining fingers, and a deep-set, venomous eye, was the 
 spokesman of those four. 
 
 " Indeed," he said, and the fingers of his right hand 
 strangled and did to death the fingers of his left hand, 
 "indeed, we have transgressed by order." 
 
 " Explain that." 
 
 " We have been sent to you hurriedly by our master, 
 Molasius of Devenish." 
 
 " A pious, a saintly man," the king interrupted, " and 
 one who does not countenance transgressions of the Sunday." 
 4 We were ordered to tell you as follows," said the grim 
 cleric, and he buried the fingers of his right hand in his 
 left fist, so that one could not hope to see them resurrected 
 again : 
 
 " It was the duty of one of the Brothers of Devenish," he 
 continued, "to turn out the cattle this morning before the 
 dawn of day, and that Brother, while in his duty, saw eight 
 comely young men who fought together." 
 
 153 
 
i 5 4 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 " On the morning of Sunday/' Dermod exploded. 
 
 The cleric nodded with savage emphasis. 
 
 " On the morning of this self-same and instant sacred 
 day." 
 
 " Tell on," said the king wrathfully. 
 
 But terror gripped with sudden fingers at Becfola's heart. 
 
 " Do not tell horrid stories on the Sunday," she pleaded. 
 " No good can come to any one from such a tale." 
 
 " Nay, this must be told, sweet lady," said the king. 
 
 But the cleric stared at her glumly, forbiddingly, and 
 resumed his story at a gesture. 
 
 " Of these eight men, seven were killed." 
 
 " They are in hell," the king said gloomily. 
 
 " In hell they are," the cleric replied with enthusiasm. 
 
 " And the one that was not killed ? " 
 
 " He is alive," that cleric responded. 
 
 " He would be," the monarch assented. " Tell your 
 tale." 
 
 " Molasius had those seven miscreants buried, and he 
 took from their unhallowed necks and from their lewd 
 arms and from their unblessed weapons the load of two men 
 in gold and silver treasure." 
 
 " Two men's load ! " said Dermod thoughtfully. 
 
 " That much," said the lean cleric. " No more, no less. 
 And he has sent us to find out what part of that hellish 
 treasure belongs to the Brothers of Devenish and how much 
 is the property of the king." 
 
 Becfola again broke in, speaking graciously, regally, 
 hastily : 
 
 " Let those Brothers have the entire of the treasure, for 
 it is Sunday treasure, and as such it will bring no luck to 
 any one." 
 
v THE WOOING OF BECFOLA 155 
 
 The cleric again looked at her coldly, with a harsh-lidded, 
 small-set, grey-eyed glare, and waited for the king's reply. 
 
 Dermod pondered, shaking his head as to an argument 
 on his left side, and then nodding it again as to an argument 
 on his right. 
 
 " It shall be done as this sweet queen advises. Let a 
 reliquary be formed with cunning workmanship of that 
 gold and silver, dated with my date and signed with my name, 
 to be in memory of my grandmother who gave birth to a 
 lamb, to a salmon, and then to my father, the Ard - Ri. 
 And, as to the treasure that remains over, a pastoral staff 
 may be beaten from it in honour of Molasius, the pious man." 
 
 " The story is not ended," said that glum, spike-chinned 
 cleric. 
 
 The king moved with jovial impatience. 
 
 " If you continue it," he said, " it will surely come to 
 an end some time. A stone on a stone makes a house, 
 dear heart, and a word on a word tells a tale." 
 
 The cleric wrapped himself into himself, and became 
 lean and menacing. 
 
 He whispered : 
 
 " Besides the young man, named Flann, who was not 
 slain, there was another person present at the scene and the 
 combat and the transgression of Sunday." 
 
 * Who was that person ? " said the alarmed monarch. 
 
 The cleric spiked forward his chin, and then butted for- 
 ward his brow. 
 
 " It was the wife of the king," he shouted. " It was the 
 woman called Becfola. It was that woman," he roared, and 
 he extended a lean, inflexible, unending first finger at the 
 queen. 
 
 " Dog ! " the king stammered, starting up. 
 
156 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, v 
 
 " If that be in truth a woman," the cleric screamed. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " the king demanded in wrath 
 and terror. 
 
 " Either she is a woman of this world to be punished, or 
 she is a woman of the Shf to be banished, but this holy 
 morning she was in the Shf, and her arms were about the 
 neck of Flann." 
 
 The king sank back in his chair stupefied, gazing from 
 one to the other, and then turned an unseeing, fear-dimmed 
 eye towards Becfola. 
 
 " Is this true, my pulse ? " he murmured. 
 
 " It is true," Becfola replied, and she became suddenly 
 to the king's eye a whiteness and a stare. 
 
 He pointed to the door. 
 
 " Go to your engagement," he stammered. " Go to that 
 Flann." 
 
 " He is waiting for me," said Becfola with proud shame, 
 " and the thought that he should wait wrings my heart." 
 
 She went out from the palace then. She went away from 
 Tara : and in all Ireland, and in the world of living men 
 she was not seen again, and she was never heard of again. 
 
THE LITTLE BRAWL AT ALLEN 
 
 157 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 " I THINK," said Cairell Whiteskin, " that although judgement 
 was given against Fionn, it was Fionn had the rights of it." 
 
 " He had eleven hundred killed," said Conan amiably, 
 " and you may call that the rights of it if you like." 
 
 " All the same " Cairell began argumentatively. 
 
 " And it was you that commenced it," Conan continued. 
 
 " Ho ! ho ! " Cairell cried. " Why, you are as much 
 to blame as I am." 
 
 " No," said Conan, " for you hit me first." 
 
 " And if we had not been separated " the other growled. 
 
 " Separated ! " said Conan, with a grin that made his 
 beard poke all around his face. 
 
 " Yes, separated. If they had not come between us I 
 
 still think " 
 
 159 
 
160 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 " Don't think out loud, dear heart, for you and I are at 
 peace by law." 
 
 " That is true," said Cairell, " and a man must stick by 
 a judgement. Come with me, my dear, and let us see how 
 the youngsters are shaping in the school. One of them has 
 rather a way with him as a swordsman." 
 
 " No youngster is any good with a sword," Conan 
 replied. 
 
 " You are right there," said Cairell. " It takes a good 
 ripe man for that weapon." 
 
 " Boys are good enough with slings," Condn continued, 
 " but except for eating their fill and running away from a 
 fight, you can't count on boys." 
 
 The two bulky men turned towards the school of the 
 Fianna. 
 
 It happened that Fionn mac Uail had summoned the 
 gentlemen of the Fianna and their wives to a banquet. 
 Everybody came, for a banquet given by Fionn was not a 
 thing to be missed. There was Goll mor mac Morna and his 
 people ; Fionn's son Oisfn and his grandson Oscar. There 
 was Dermod of the Gay Face, Caelte mac Ronan but indeed 
 there were too many to be told of, for all the pillars of war 
 and battle-torches of the Gael were there. 
 
 The banquet began. 
 
 Fionn sat in the Chief Captain's seat in the middle of 
 the fort ; and facing him, in the place of honour, he placed 
 the mirthful Goll mac Morna ; and from these, ranging on 
 either side, the nobles of the Fianna took each the place that 
 fitted his degree and patrimony. 
 
 After good eating, good conversation, and after good 
 conversation, sleep that is the order of a banquet : so 
 
i THE LITTLE BRAWL AT ALLEN 161 
 
 when each person had been served with food to the limit of 
 desire the butlers carried in shining and jewelled drinking- 
 horns, each having its tide of smooth, heady liquor. Then 
 the young heroes grew merry and audacious, the ladies 
 became gentle and kind, and the poets became wonders 
 of knowledge and prophecy. Every eye beamed in that 
 assembly, and on Fionn every eye was turned continually in 
 the hope of a glance from the great, mild hero. 
 
 Goll spoke to him across the table enthusiastically. 
 
 "There is nothing wanting to this banquet, O Chief," 
 said he. 
 
 And Fionn smiled back into that eye which seemed a 
 well of tenderness and friendship. 
 
 " Nothing is wanting," he replied, " but a well-shaped 
 poem." 
 
 A crier stood up then, holding in one hand a length of 
 coarse iron links and in the other a chain of delicate antique 
 silver. He shook the iron chain so that the servants and 
 followers of the household should be silent, and he shook 
 the silver one so that the nobles and poets should hearken 
 also. 
 
 Fergus, called True-Lips, the poet of the Fianna-Finn, 
 then sang of Fionn and his ancestors and their deeds. When 
 he had finished Fionn and Oisfn and Oscar and mac Lugac 
 of the Terrible Hand gave him rare and costly presents, so 
 that every person wondered at their munificence, and even 
 the poet, accustomed to the liberality of kings and princes, 
 was astonished at his gifts. 
 
 Fergus then turned to the side of Goll mac Morna, and 
 he sang of the Forts, the Destructions, the Raids, and the 
 Wooings of clann-Morna ; and as the poems succeeded 
 each other, Goll grew more and more jovial and contented. 
 
 M 
 
1 62 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, i 
 
 When the songs were finished Goll turned in his seat. 
 
 " Where is my runner ? " he cried. 
 
 He had a woman runner, a marvel for swiftness and 
 trust. 
 
 She stepped forward. 
 
 " I am here, royal captain." 
 
 " Have you collected my tribute from Denmark ? " 
 
 " It is here." 
 
 And, with help, she laid beside him the load of three 
 men of doubly refined gold. Out of this treasure, and 
 from the treasure of rings and bracelets and torques that 
 were with him, Goll mac Morna paid Fergus for his songs, 
 and, much as Fionn had given, Goll gave twice as much. 
 
 But, as the banquet proceeded, Goll gave, whether it 
 was to harpers or prophets or jugglers, more than any one 
 else gave, so that Fionn became displeased, and as the banquet 
 proceeded he grew stern and silent. 
 
CHAPTER II l 
 
 THE wonderful gift-giving of Goll continued, and an 
 uneasiness and embarrassment began to creep through the 
 great banqueting hall. 
 
 Gentlemen looked at each other questioningly, and then 
 .spoke again on indifferent matters, but only with half of 
 their minds. The singers, the harpers, and jugglers sub- 
 mitted to that constraint, so that every person felt awkward 
 and no one knew what should be done or what would happen, 
 and from that doubt dulness came, with silence following 
 on its heels. 
 
 There is nothing more terrible than silence.' Shame 
 grows in that blank, or anger gathers there, and we must 
 choose which of these is to be our master. 
 
 That choice lay before Fionn, who never knew shame. 
 
 " Goll," said he, " how long have you been taking tribute 
 from the people of Lochlann ? " 
 
 " A long time now," said Goll. 
 
 And he looked into an eye that was stern and unfriendly. 
 
 " I thought that my rent was the only one those people 
 had to pay," Fionn continued. 
 
 " Your memory is at fault," said Goll. 
 
 1 This version of the death of Uail is not correct. Also Cnocha is not in Lochlann but 
 in Ireland. 
 
 163 
 
1 64 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 " Let it be so," said Fionn. " How did your tribute 
 arise ? " 
 
 " Long ago, Fionn, in the days when your father forced 
 war on me." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Fionn. 
 
 " When he raised the High King against me and banished 
 me from Ireland." 
 
 " Continue," said Fionn, and he held Coil's eye under 
 the great beetle of his brow. 
 
 " I went into Britain," said Goll, " and your father 
 followed me there. I went into White Lochlann (Norway) 
 and took it. Your father banished me thence also." 
 
 " I know it," said Fionn. 
 
 " I went into the land of the Saxons and your father 
 chased me out of that land. And then, in Lochlann, at the 
 battle of Cnocha, your father and I met at last, foot to foot, 
 eye to eye, and there, Fionn ! " 
 
 " And there, Goll ? " 
 
 " And there I killed your father." 
 
 Fionn sat rigid and unmoving, his face stony and terrible 
 as the face of a monument carved on the side of a cliff. 
 
 " Tell all your tale," said he. 
 
 " At that battle I beat the Lochlannachs. I penetrated 
 to the hold of the Danish king, and I took out of his dungeon 
 the men who had lain there for a year and were awaiting 
 their deaths. I liberated fifteen prisoners, and one of them 
 was Fionn." 
 
 " It is true," said Fionn. 
 
 Goll's anger fled at the word. 
 
 " Do not be jealous of me, dear heart, for if I had twice 
 the tribute I would give it to you and to Ireland." 
 
 But at the word jealous the Chiefs anger revived. 
 
ii THE LITTLE BRAWL AT ALLEN 165 
 
 " It is an impertinence," he cried, " to boast at this table 
 that you killed my father." 
 
 " By my hand," Goll replied, " if Fionn were to treat me 
 as his father did I would treat Fionn the way I treated Fionn's 
 father." 
 
 Fionn closed his eyes and beat away the anger that was 
 rising within him. He smiled grimly. 
 
 "If I were so minded, I would not let that last word 
 go with you, Goll, for I have here an hundred men for 
 every man of yours." 
 
 Goll laughed aloud. 
 
 " So had your father," he said. 
 
 Fionn's brother, Cairell Whiteskin, broke into the con- 
 versation with a harsh laugh. 
 
 " How many of Fionn's household has the wonderful 
 Goll put down ? " he cried. 
 
 But GolFs brother, bald Condn the Swearer, turned a 
 savage eye on Cairell. 
 
 !< By my weapons," said he, " there were never less than 
 an hundred-and-one men with Goll, and the least of them 
 could have put you down easily enough." 
 
 " Ah ! " cried Cairell. " And are you one of the hundred- 
 and-one, old scaldhead ? " 
 
 " One indeed, my thick-witted, thin-livered Cairell, and 
 I undertake to prove on your hide that what my brother 
 said was true and that what your brother said was false." 
 
 " You undertake that," growled Cairell, and on he 
 word he loosed a furious buffet at Condn, which Condn 
 returned with a fist so big that every part of Cairell's face 
 was hit with the one blow. The two then fell into grips, 
 and went lurching and punching about the great hall. 
 Two of Oscar's sons could not bear to see their uncle being 
 
1 66 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 worsted, and they leaped at Condn, and two of Coil's sons 
 rushed at them. Then Oscar himself leaped up, and with 
 a hammer in either hand he went battering into the 
 
 " I thank the gods," said Conan, " for the chance of 
 killing yourself, Oscar." 
 
 These two encountered then, and Oscar knocked a 
 groan of distress out of Conan. He looked appealingly at 
 his brother Art og mac Morna, and that powerful champion 
 flew to his aid and wounded Oscar. Oisfn, Oscar's father, 
 could not abide that ; he dashed in and quelled Art Og. 
 Then Rough Hair mac Morna wounded Oisfn and was 
 himself tumbled by mac Lugac, who was again wounded by 
 Gara mac Morna. 
 
 The banqueting hall was in tumult. In every part 
 of it men were giving and taking blows. Here two cham- 
 pions with their arms round each other's neck were stamping 
 round and round in a slow, sad dance. Here were two 
 crouching against each other, looking for a soft place to 
 hit. Yonder a big-shouldered person lifted another man in 
 his arms and threw him at a small group that charged him. 
 In a retired corner a gentleman stood in a thoughtful attitude 
 while he tried to pull out a tooth that had been knocked 
 loose. 
 
 ' You can't fight," he mumbled, " with a loose shoe or 
 a loose tooth." 
 
 " Hurry up with that tooth," the man in front of him 
 grumbled, " for I want to knock out another one." 
 
 Pressed against the wall was a bevy of ladies, some of 
 whom were screaming and some laughing, and all of whom 
 were calling on the men to go back to their seats. 
 
 Only two people remained seated in the hall. 
 
The banqueting hall was in tumult. 
 
 To face page 166. 
 
ii THE LITTLE BRAWL AT ALLEN 167 
 
 Goll sat twisted round watching the progress of the brawl 
 critically, and Fionn, sitting opposite, watched Goll. 
 
 Just then Faelan, another of Fionn's sons, stormed the hall 
 with three hundred of the Fianna, and by this force all Coil's 
 people were put out of doors, where the fight continued. 
 
 Goll looked then calmly on Fionn. 
 
 " Your people are using their weapons," said he. 
 
 " Are they ? " Fionn inquired as calmly, and as though 
 addressing the air. 
 
 " In the matter of weapons ! " said Goll. 
 
 And the hard-fighting pillar of battle turned to where 
 his arms hung on the wall behind him. He took his solid, 
 well-balanced sword in his fist, over his left arm his ample, 
 bossy shield, and, with another side-look at Fionn, he left 
 the hall and charged irresistibly into the fray. 
 
 Fionn then arose. He took his accoutrements from the 
 wall also and strode out. Then he raised the triumphant 
 Fenian shout and went into the combat. 
 
 That was no place for a sick person to be. It was not 
 the corner which a slender-fingered woman would choose 
 to do up her hair ; nor was it the spot an ancient man would 
 select to think quietly in, for the tumult of sword on sword, 
 of axe on shield, the roar of the contending parties, the 
 crying of wounded men, and the screaming of frightened 
 women destroyed peace, and over all was the rallying cry of 
 Goll mac Morna and the great shout of Fionn. 
 
 Then Fergus True-Lips gathered about him all the poets 
 of the Fianna, and they surrounded the combatants. They 
 began to chant and intone long, heavy rhymes and incanta- 
 tions, until the rhythmic beating of their voices covered even 
 the noise of war, so that the men stopped hacking and hewing, 
 and let their weapons drop from their hands. These were 
 
168 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, n 
 
 picked up by the poets and a reconciliation was effected 
 between the two parties. 
 
 But Fionn affirmed that he would make no peace with 
 clann-Morna until the matter had been judged by the king, 
 Cormac mac Art, and by his daughter Ailve, and by his son 
 Cairbre of Ana Life, and by Fintan the chief poet. Goll 
 agreed that the affair should be submitted to that court, 
 and a day was appointed, a fortnight from that date, to meet 
 at Tara of the Kings for judgement. Then the hall was 
 cleansed and the banquet recommenced. 
 
 Of Fionn's people eleven hundred of men and women 
 were dead, while of Coil's people eleven men and fifty women 
 were dead. But it was through fright the women died, for 
 not one of them had a wound or a bruise or a mark. 
 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 AT the end of a fortnight Fionn and Goll and the chief men 
 of the Fianna attended at Tara. The king, his son and 
 daughter, with Flahri, Feehal, and Fintan mac Bocna, sat 
 in the place of judgement, and Cormac called on the witnesses 
 for evidence. 
 
 Fionn stood up, but the moment he did so Goll mac 
 Morna arose also. 
 
 " I object to Fionn giving evidence," said he. 
 
 " Why so ? " the king asked. 
 
 " Because in any matter that concerned me Fionn would 
 turn a lie into truth and the truth into a lie." 
 
 " I do not think that is so," said Fionn. 
 
 " You see, he has already commenced it," cried Goll. 
 
 " If you object to the testimony of the chief person 
 present, in what way are we to obtain evidence ? " the ki ig 
 demanded. 
 
 " I," said Goll, " will trust to the evidence of Fergus 
 True-Lips. He is Fionn's poet, and will tell no lie against his 
 master ; he is a poet, and will tell no lie against any one." 
 
 " I agree to that," said Fionn. 
 
 " I require, nevertheless," Goll continued, " that Fergus 
 should swear before the Court, by his gods, that he will do 
 justice between us." 
 
 169 
 
 
170 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 Fergus was accordingly sworn, and gave his evidence. 
 
 He stated that Fionn's brother Cairell struck Conan mac 
 Morna, that Coil's two sons came to help Conan, that 
 Oscar went to help Cairell, and with that Fionn's people and 
 the clann-Morna rose at each other, and what had started as 
 a brawl ended as a battle with eleven hundred of Fionn's 
 people and sixty-one of Goll's people dead. 
 
 " I marvel," said the king in a discontented voiqe, " that, 
 considering the numbers against them, the losses of clann- 
 Morna should be so small." 
 
 Fionn blushed when he heard that. 
 
 Fergus replied : 
 
 " Goll mac Morna covered his people with his shield. 
 All that slaughter was done by him." 
 
 " The press was too great," Fionn grumbled. " I could 
 not get at him in time or " 
 
 !< Or what ? " said Goll with a great laugh. 
 
 Fionn shook his head sternly and said no more. 
 
 ' What is your judgement ? " Cormac demanded of his 
 fellow-judges. 
 
 Flahri pronounced first. 
 
 " I give damages to clann-Morna." 
 
 ' Why ? " said Cormac. 
 
 " Because they were attacked first." 
 
 Cormac looked at him stubbornly. 
 
 " I do not agree with your judgement," he said. 
 
 " What is there faulty in it ? " Flahri asked. 
 
 " You have not considered," the king replied, " that a 
 soldier owes obedience to his captain, and that, given the 
 time and the place, Fionn was the captain and Goll was only 
 a simple soldier." 
 
 Flahri considered the king's suggestion. 
 
in THE LITTLE BRAWL AT ALLEN 171 
 
 " That," he said, " would hold good for the white- 
 striking or blows of fists, but not for the red-striking or 
 sword-strokes." 
 
 " What is your judgement ? " the king asked Feehal. 
 
 Feehal then pronounced : 
 
 " I hold that clann-Morna were attacked first, and that 
 they are to be free from payment of damages." 
 
 " And as regards Fionn ? " said Cormac. 
 
 " I hold that on account of his great losses Fionn is to 
 be exempt from payment of damages, and that his losses are 
 to be considered as damages." 
 
 " I agree in that judgement," said Fiontan. 
 
 The king and his son also agreed, and the decision was 
 imparted to the Fianna. 
 
 " One must abide by a judgement," said Fionn. 
 
 " Do you abide by it ? " Goll demanded. 
 
 " I do," said Fionn. 
 
 Goll and Fionn then kissed each other, and thus peace 
 was made. For, notwithstanding the endless bicker of 
 these two heroes, they loved each other well. 
 
 Yet, now that the years have gone by, I think the fault 
 lay with Goll and not with Fionn, and that the judgement 
 given did not consider everything. For at that table Goll 
 should not have given greater gifts than his master and host 
 did. And it was not right of Goll to take by force the posi- 
 tion of greatest gift-giver of the Fianna, for there was never 
 in the world one greater at giving gifts, or giving battle, 
 or making poems than Fionn was. 
 
 That side of the affair was not brought before the Court. 
 But perhaps it was suppressed out of delicacy for Fionn, 
 for if Goll could be accused of ostentation, Fionn was open 
 
172 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, in 
 
 to the uglier charge of jealousy. It was, nevertheless, Goll's 
 forward and impish temper which commenced the brawl, 
 and the verdict of time must be to exonerate Fionn and to 
 let the blame go where it is merited. 
 
 There is, however, this to be added and remembered, 
 that whenever Fionn was in a tight corner it was Goll that 
 plucked him out of it ; and, later on, when time did his 
 worst on them all and the Fianna were sent to hell as un- 
 believers, it was Goll mac Morna who assaulted hell, with a 
 chain in his great fist and three iron balls swinging from it, 
 and it was he who attacked the hosts of great devils and 
 brought Fionn and the Fianna-Finn out with him. 
 
THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT 
 
 173 
 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 ONE day something happened to Fionn, the son of Uail ; that 
 is, he departed from the world of men, and was set wandering 
 in great distress of mind through Faery. He had days and 
 nights there and adventures there, and was able to bring 
 back the memory of these. 
 
 That, by itself, is wonderful, for there are few people 
 who remember that they have been to Faery or aught of all 
 that happened to them in that state. 
 
 In truth we do not go to Faery, we become Faery, and 
 in the beating of a pulse we may live for a year or a thousand 
 years. But when we return the memory is quickly clouded, 
 and we seem to have had a dream or seen a vision, although 
 we have verily been in Faery. 
 
 It was wonderful, then, that Fionn should have remem- 
 bered all that happened to him in that wide-spun moment, 
 but in this tale there is yet more to marvel at ; for not only 
 did Fionn go to Faery, but the great army which he had 
 marshalled to Ben Edair l were translated also, and neither 
 
 1 The Hill of Howth. 
 175 
 
176 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 he nor they were aware that they had departed from the 
 world until they came back to it. 
 
 Fourteen battles, seven of the reserve and seven of the 
 regular Fianna, had been taken by the Chief on a great 
 march and manoeuvre. When they reached Ben Edair it 
 was decided to pitch camp so that the troops might rest in 
 view of the warlike plan which Fionn had imagined for 
 the morrow. The camp was chosen, and each squadron and 
 company of the host was lodged into an appropriate place, 
 so there was no overcrowding and no halt or interruption 
 of the march ; for where a company halted that was its place 
 of rest, and in that place it hindered no other company, 
 and was at its own ease. 
 
 When this was accomplished the leaders of battalions 
 gathered on a level, grassy plateau overlooking the sea, 
 where a consultation began as to the next day's manoeuvres, 
 and during this discussion they looked often on the wide 
 water that lay wrinkling and twinkling below them. 
 
 A roomy ship under great press of sail was bearing on 
 Ben Edair from the east. 
 
 Now and again, in a lull of the discussion, a champion 
 would look and remark on the hurrying vessel ; and it may 
 have been during one of these moments that the adventure 
 happened to Fionn and the Fianna. 
 
 " I wonder where that ship comes from ? " said Condn idly. 
 
 But no person could surmise anything about it beyond 
 that it was a vessel well equipped for war. 
 
 As the ship drew by the shore the watchers observed 
 a tall man swing from the side by means of his spear shafts, 
 and in a little while this gentleman was announced to Fionn, 
 and was brought into his presence. 
 
i THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT 177 
 
 A sturdy, bellicose, forthright personage he was indeed. 
 He was equipped in a wonderful solidity of armour, with a 
 hard, carven helmet on his head, a splendid red-bossed shield 
 swinging on his shoulder, a wide-grooved, straight sword 
 clashing along his thigh. On his shoulders under the shield 
 he carried a splendid scarlet mantle ; over his breast was a 
 great brooch of burnt gold, and in his fist he gripped a pair 
 of thick-shafted, unburnished spears. 
 
 Fionn and the champions looked on this gentleman, and 
 they admired exceedingly his bearing and equipment. 
 
 " Of what blood are you, young gentleman ? " Fionn 
 demanded, " and from which of the four corners of the world 
 do you come ? " 
 
 " My name is Gael of the Iron," the stranger answered, 
 " and I am son to the King of Thessaly." 
 
 " What errand has brought you here ? " 
 
 " I do not go on errands," the man replied sternly, 
 " but on the affairs that please me." 
 
 " Be it so. What is the pleasing affair which brings 
 you to this land ? " 
 
 " Since I left my own country I have not gone from a 
 land or an island until it paid tribute to me and acknowledged 
 my lordship." 
 
 " And you have come to this realm " cried Fionn, 
 
 doubting his ears. 
 
 " For tribute and sovereignty," growled that other, and 
 he struck the haft of his spear violently on the ground. 
 
 " By my hand," said Condn, " we have never heard of 
 a warrior, however great, but his peer was found in Ireland, 
 and the funeral songs of all such have been chanted by the 
 women of this land." 
 
 " By my hand and word," said the harsh stranger, 
 
 N 
 
 
178 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 " your talk makes me think of a small boy or of an 
 idiot." 
 
 "Take heed, sir," said Fionn, "for the champions and 
 great dragons of the Gael are standing by you, and around 
 us there are fourteen battles of the Fianna of Ireland." 
 
 " If all the Fianna who have died in the last seven years 
 were added to all that are now here," the stranger asserted, 
 " I would treat all of these and those grievously, and would 
 curtail their limbs and their lives." 
 
 " It is no small boast," Conan murmured, staring at him. 
 
 " It is no boast at all," said Gael, " and, to show my 
 quality and standing, I will propose a deed to you." 
 
 " Give out your deed," Fionn commanded. 
 
 " Thus," said Gael with cold savagery. " If you can 
 find a man among your fourteen battalions who can outrun 
 or outwrestle or outfight me, I will take myself off to my own 
 country, and will trouble you no more." 
 
 And so harshly did he speak, and with such a belligerent 
 eye did he stare that dismay began to seize on the champions, 
 and even Fionn felt that his breath had halted. 
 
 " It is spoken like a hero," he admitted after a moment, 
 " and if you cannot be matched on those terms it will not 
 be from a dearth of applicants." 
 
 " In running alone," Fionn continued thoughtfully, " we 
 have a notable champion, Caelte mac Ronan." 
 
 " This son of Ronan will not long be notable," the 
 stranger asserted. 
 
 " He can outstrip the red deer," said Conan. 
 
 " He can outrun the wind," cried Fionn. 
 
 " He will not be asked to outrun the red deer or the 
 wind," the stranger sneered. " He will be asked to outrun* 
 me," he thundered. " Produce this runner, and we shall! 
 
i THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT 179 
 
 discover if he keeps as great heart in his feet as he has made 
 you think." 
 
 " He is not with us," Condn lamented. 
 
 " These notable warriors are never with us when the call 
 is made," said the grim stranger. 
 
 " By my hand," cried Fionn, " he shall be here in no 
 great time, for I will fetch him myself." 
 
 " Be it so," said Gael. 
 
 " And during my absence," Fionn continued, " I leave 
 this as a compact, that you make friends with the Fianna 
 here present, and that you observe all the conditions and 
 ceremonies of friendship." 
 
 Gael agreed to that. 
 
 " I will not hurt any of these people until you return," 
 he said. 
 
 Fionn then set out towards Tara of the Kings, for he 
 thought Caelte mac Ronan would surely be there ; " and if 
 he is not there," said the champion to himself, " then I shall 
 find him at Cesh Corran of the Fianna." 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 HE had not gone a great distance from Ben Edair when he 
 came to an intricate, gloomy wood, where the trees grew 
 so thickly and the undergrowth was such a sprout and 
 tangle that one could scarcely pass through it. He re- 
 membered that a path had once been hacked through the 
 wood, and he sought for this. It was a deeply scooped, 
 hollow way, and it ran or wriggled through the entire length 
 of the wood. 
 
 Into this gloomy drain Fionn descended and made pro- 
 gress, but when he had penetrated deeply in the dank forest 
 he heard a sound of thumping and squelching footsteps, and 
 he saw coming towards him a horrible, evil-visaged being ; 
 a wild, monstrous, yellow-skinned, big-boned giant, dressed 
 in nothing but an ill-made, mud-plastered, drab-coloured 
 coat, which swaggled and clapped against the calves of 
 his big bare legs. On his stamping feet there were 
 great brogues of boots that were shaped like, but were 
 bigger than, a boat, and each time he put a foot down it 
 squashed and squirted a barrelful of mud from the sunk 
 road. 
 
 Fionn had never seen the like of this vast person, and he 
 stood gazing on him, lost in a stare of astonishment. 
 
 The great man saluted him. 
 
 i so 
 
 
CHAP, ii THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT 181 
 
 " All alone, Fionn ! " he cried. " How does it happen 
 that not one Fenian of the Fianna is at the side of his 
 captain ? " 
 
 At this inquiry Fionn got back his wits. 
 
 " That is too long a story and it is too intricate and 
 pressing to be told, also I have no time to spare now." 
 
 " Yet tell it now," the monstrous man insisted. 
 
 Fionn, thus pressed, told of the coming of Gael 
 of the Iron, of the challenge the latter had issued, and 
 that he, Fionn, was off to Tara of the Kings to find Caelte 
 mac Ronan. 
 
 " I know that foreigner well," the big man commented. 
 
 "Is he the champion he makes himself out to be ? " 
 Fionn inquired. 
 
 " He can do twice as much as he said he would do," 
 the monster replied. 
 
 ' He won't outrun Caelte mac Ronan," Fionn asserted. 
 
 The big man jeered. 
 
 " Say that he won't outrun a hedgehog, dear heart. 
 This Gael will end the course by the time your Caelte begins 
 to think of starting." 
 
 1 Then," said Fionn, " I no longer know where to turn, 
 or how to protect the honour of Ireland." 
 
 " I know how to do these things," the other man com- 
 mented with a slow nod of the head. 
 
 " If you do," Fionn pleaded, " tell it to me upon your 
 honour." 
 
 " I will do that," the man replied. 
 
 " Do not look any farther for the rusty-kneed, slow- 
 trotting son of Ronan," he continued, " but ask me to run 
 your race, and, by this hand, I will be first at the post." 
 
 At this the Chief began to laugh 
 

 1 82 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, n 
 
 " My good friend, you have work enough to carry the 
 two tons of mud that are plastered on each of your coat-tails, 
 to say nothing of your weighty boots." 
 
 " By my hand," the man cried, " there is no person in 
 Ireland but myself can win that race. I claim a chance." 
 
 Fionn agreed then. 
 
 " Be it so," said he. " And now, tell me your name ? " 
 
 " I am known as the Carl of the Drab Coat." 
 
 " All names are names," Fionn responded, " and that 
 also is a name." 
 
 They returned then to Ben Edair. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 WHEN they came among the host the men of Ireland 
 gathered about the vast stranger ; and there were some who 
 hid their faces in their mantles so that they should not be 
 seen to laugh, and there were some who rolled along the 
 ground in merriment, and there were others who could only 
 hold their mouths open and crook their knees and hang their 
 arms and stare dumbfoundedly upon the stranger, as though 
 they were utterly dazed. 
 
 Gael of the Iron came also on the scene, and he examined 
 the stranger with close and particular attention. 
 
 " What in the name of the devil is this thing ? " he 
 asked of Fionn. 
 
 " Dear heart," said Fionn, " this is the champion I am 
 putting against you in the race." 
 
 Gael of the Iron grew purple in the face, and he almost 
 swallowed his tongue through wrath. 
 
 " Until the end of eternity," he roared, " and until the 
 very last moment of doom I will not move one foot in a 
 race with this greasy, big-hoofed, ill-assembled resemblance 
 of a beggarman." 
 
 But at this the Carl burst into a roar of laughter, so that 
 the ear-drums of the warriors present almost burst inside 
 of their heads. 
 
 183 
 
1 84 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP.III 
 
 " Be reassured, my darling, I am no beggarman, and 
 my quality is not more gross than is the blood of the most 
 delicate prince in this assembly. You will not evade your 
 challenge in that way, my love, and you shall run with me 
 or you shall run to your ship with me behind you. What 
 length of course do you propose, dear heart ? " 
 
 " I never run less than sixty miles," Gael replied sullenly. 
 
 " It is a small run," said the Carl, " but it will do. From 
 this place to the Hill of the Rushes, Slieve Luachra of 
 Munster, is exactly sixty miles. Will that suit you ? " 
 
 " I don't care how it is done," Gael answered. 
 
 " Then," said the Carl, " we may go off to Slieve 
 Luachra now, and in the morning we can start our race 
 there to here." 
 
 " Let it be done that way," said Gael. 
 
 These two set out then .for Munster, and as the sun was 
 setting they reached Slieve Luchra and prepared to spend 
 the night there. 
 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 " GAEL, my pulse," said the Carl, " we had better build a 
 house or a hut to pass the night in." 
 
 " I'll build nothing," Cael replied, looking on the Carl 
 with great disfavour. 
 
 " No ! " 
 
 " I won't build house or hut for the sake of passing one 
 night here, for I hope never to see this place again." 
 
 " I'll build a house myself," said the Carl, " and the man 
 who does not help in the building can stay outside of the 
 house." 
 
 185 
 
1 86 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 The Carl stumped to a near-by wood, and he never rested 
 until he had felled and tied together twenty-four couples 
 of big timber. He thrust these under one arm and under 
 the other he tucked a bundle of rushes for his bed, and 
 with that one load he rushed up a house, well thatched and 
 snug, and with the timber that remained over he made a 
 bonfire on the floor of the house. 
 
 His companion sat at a distance regarding the work 
 with rage and aversion. 
 
 " Now, Gael, my darling," said the Carl, " if you are a 
 man help me to look for something to eat, for there is game 
 here." 
 
 " Help yourself," roared Gael, " for all that I want is 
 not to be near you." 
 
 " The tooth that does not help gets no helping," the 
 other replied. 
 
 In a short time the Carl returned with a wild boar which 
 he had run down. He cooked the beast over his bonfire 
 and ate one half of it, leaving the other half for his breakfast. 
 Then he lay down on the rushes, and in two turns he fell 
 asleep. 
 
 But Gael lay out on the side of the hill, and if he went 
 to sleep that night he slept fasting. 
 
 It was he, however, who awakened the Carl in the 
 morning. 
 
 " Get up, beggarman, if you are going to run against 
 me." 
 
 The Carl rubbed his eyes. 
 
 " I never get up until I have had my fill of sleep, and 
 there is another hour of it due to me. But if you are in a 
 hurry, my delight, you can start running now with a blessing. 
 I will trot on your track when I waken up." 
 
 
iv THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT 187 
 
 Cael began to race then, and he was glad of the start, 
 for his antagonist made so little account of him that he did 
 not know what to expect when the Carl would begin to run. 
 
 " Yet/' said Cael to himself, " with an hour's start the 
 beggarman will have to move his bones if he wants to catch 
 on me," and he settled down to a good, pelting race. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 AT the end of an hour the Carl awoke. He ate the second 
 half of the boar, and he tied the unpicked bones in the tail 
 of his coat. Then with a great rattling of the boar's bones 
 he started. 
 
 It is hard to tell how he ran or at what speed he ran, 
 but he went forward in great two-legged jumps, and at times 
 he moved in immense one-legged, mud-spattering hops, 
 and at times again, with wide-stretched, far-flung, terrible- 
 tramping, space-destroying legs he ran. 
 
 He left the swallows behind as if they were asleep. He 
 caught up on a red deer, jumped over it, and left it standing. 
 The wind was always behind him, for he outran it every 
 time ; and he caught up in jumps and bounces on Gael of 
 the Iron, although Gael was running well, with his fists up 
 and his head back and his two legs flying in and out so 
 vigorously that you could not see them because of that 
 speedy movement. 
 
 Trotting by the side of Gael, the Carl thrust a hand into 
 the tail of his coat and pulled out a fistful of red bones. 
 
 188 
 
CHAP.V THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT 189 
 
 " Here, my heart, is a meaty bone," said he, " for you 
 fasted all night, poor friend, and if you pick a bit off the 
 bone your stomach will get a rest." 
 
 " Keep your filth, beggarman," the other replied, " for 
 I would rather be hanged than gnaw on a bone that you 
 have browsed." 
 
 " Why don't you run, my pulse ? " said the Carl 
 earnestly ; " why don't you try to win the race ? " 
 
 Gael then began to move his limbs as if they were the 
 wings of a fly, or the fins of a little fish, or as if they were 
 the six legs of a terrified spider. 
 
 " I am running," he gasped. 
 
 " But try and run like this," the Carl admonished, and 
 he gave a wriggling bounce and a sudden outstretching 
 and scurrying of shanks, and he disappeared from Gael's 
 sight in one wild spatter of big boots. 
 
 Despair fell on Gael of the Iron, but he had a great heart. 
 
 " I will run until I burst," he shrieked, " and when I 
 burst, may I burst to a great distance, and may I trip that 
 beggarman up with my bursting and make him break his 
 leg." 
 
 He settled then to a determined, savage, implacable trot. 
 
 He caught up on the Carl at last, for the latter had 
 stopped to eat blackberries from the bushes on the road, 
 and when he drew nigh, Gael began to jeer and sneer angrily 
 at the Carl. 
 
 " Who lost the tails of his coat ? " he roared. 
 
 " Don't ask riddles of a man that's eating blackberries," 
 the Carl rebuked him. 
 
 " The dog without a tail and the coat without a tail," 
 cried Gael. 
 
 " I give it up," the Carl mumbled. 
 
190 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 " It's yourself, beggarman," jeered Gael. 
 
 " I am myself," the Carl gurgled through a mouthful 
 of blackberries, " and as I am myself, how can it be myself ? 
 That is a silly riddle," he burbled. 
 
 " Look at your coat, tub of grease ! " 
 
 The Carl did so. 
 
 " My faith," said he, " where are the two tails of my 
 coat ? " 
 
 " I could smell one of them and it wrapped around a 
 little tree thirty miles back," said Gael, " and the other one 
 was dishonouring a bush ten miles behind that." 
 
 " It is bad luck to be separated from the tails of your 
 own coat," the Carl grumbled. " I'll have to go back 
 for them. Wait here, beloved, and eat blackberries until 
 I come back, and we'll both start fair," 
 
 " Not half a second will I wait," Gael replied, and he 
 began to run towards Ben Edair as a lover runs to his maiden 
 or as a bee flies to his hive. 
 
 " I haven't had half my share of blackberries either," 
 the Carl lamented as he started to run backwards for his 
 coat-tails. 
 
 He ran determinedly on that backward journey, and as 
 the path he had travelled was beaten out as if it had been 
 trampled by an hundred bulls yoked neck to neck, he was 
 able to find the two bushes and the two coat-tails. He sewed 
 them on his coat. 
 
 Then he sprang up, and he took to a fit and a vortex 
 and an exasperation of running for which no description 
 may be found. The thumping of his big boots grew as 
 continuous as the pattering of hailstones on a roof, and the 
 wind of his passage blew trees down. The beasts that were 
 ranging beside his path dropped dead from concussion, 
 
The thumping of his big boots grew as continuous as the pattering of hailstones 
 on a roof, and the wind of his passage blew trees down. 
 
 To face page 190. 
 
v THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT 191 
 
 and the steam that snored from his nose blew birds into 
 bits and made great lumps of cloud fall out of the sky. 
 
 He again caught up on Gael, who was running with his 
 head down and his toes up. 
 
 " If you won't try to run, my treasure," said the Carl, 
 " you will never get your tribute." 
 
 And with that he incensed and exploded himself into an 
 eye-blinding, continuous waggle and complexity of boots, 
 that left Gael behind him in a flash. 
 
 " I will run until I burst," sobbed Gael, and he screwed 
 agitation and despair into his legs until he hummed and 
 buzzed like a blue-bottle on a window. 
 
 Five miles from Ben Edair the Carl stopped, for he 
 had again come among blackberries. 
 
 He ate of these until he was no more than a sack of 
 juice, and when he heard the humming and buzzing of Gael 
 of the Iron he mourned and lamented that he could not 
 wait to eat his fill. He took off his coat, stuffed it full of 
 blackberries, swung it on his shoulders, and went bounding 
 stoutly and nimbly for Ben Edair, 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 IT would be hard to tell of the terror that was in Fionn's 
 breast and in the hearts of the Fianna while they attended 
 the conclusion of that race. 
 
 They discussed it unendingly, and at some moment of 
 the day a man upbraided Fionn because he had not found 
 Caelte the son of Ronan as had been agreed on. 
 
 " There is no one can run like Caelte," one man 
 averred. 
 
 " He covers the ground," said another. 
 
 " He is light as a feather." 
 
 " Swift as a stag." 
 
 " Lunged like a bull." 
 
 " Legged like a wolf." 
 
 " He runs I " 
 
 These things were said to Fionn, and Fionn said these 
 things to himself. 
 
 With every passing minute a drop of lead thumped 
 down into every heart, and a pang of despair stabbed up to 
 every brain. 
 
 " Go," said Fionn to a hawk-eyed man, " go to the top 
 of this hill and watch for the coming of the racers." And 
 he sent lithe men with him so that they might run back 
 in endless succession with the news. 
 
 The messengers began to run through his tent at minute 
 
 192 
 

 CHAP, vi THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT 193 
 
 intervals calling " nothing," " nothing," " nothing," as they 
 paused and darted away. 
 
 And the words, " nothing, nothing, nothing," began 
 to drowse into the brains of every person present. 
 
 " What can we hope from that Carl ? " a champion 
 demanded savagely. 
 
 " Nothing," cried a messenger who stood and sped. 
 
 " A clump ! " cried a champion. 
 
 " A hog ! " said another. 
 
 " A flat-footed," 
 
 " Little-winded," 
 
 " Big-bellied," 
 
 " Lazy-boned," 
 
 " Pork ! " 
 
 " Did you think, Fionn, that a whale could swim on 
 land, or what did you imagine that lump could do ? " 
 
 " Nothing," cried a messenger, and was sped as he 
 spoke. 
 
 Rage began to gnaw in Fionn's soul, and a red haze 
 danced and flickered before his eyes. His hands began to 
 twitch and a desire crept over him to seize on champions 
 by the neck, and to shake and worry and rage among them 
 like a wild dog raging among sheep. 
 
 He looked on one, and yet he seemed to look on all at 
 
 once. 
 
 
 Be silent," he growled. ;< Let each man be silent as a 
 dead man." 
 
 And he sat forward, seeing all, seeing none, with his 
 mouth drooping open, and such a wildness and bristle 
 lowering from that great glum brow that the champions 
 shivered as though already in the chill of death, and were 
 silent. 
 
194 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, vi 
 
 He rose and stalked to the tent-door. 
 " Where to, O Fionn ? " said a champion humbly. 
 " To the hill-top/' said Fionn, and he stalked on. 
 They followed him, whispering among themselves, and 
 keeping their eyes on the ground as they climbed. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 " WHAT do you see ? " Fionn demanded of the watcher. 
 
 " Nothing," that man replied. 
 
 " Look again," said Fionn. 
 
 The eagle-eyed man lifted a face, thin and sharp as 
 though it had been carven on the wind, and he stared 
 forward with an immobile intentness. 
 
 " What do you see ? " said Fionn. 
 
 " Nothing," the man replied. 
 
 " I will look myself," said Fionn, and his great brow 
 bent forward and gloomed afar. 
 
 The watcher stood beside, staring with his tense face 
 and unwinking, lidless eye. 
 
 " What can you see, O Fionn ? " said the watcher. 
 
 " I can see nothing," said Fionn, and he projected again 
 his grim, gaunt forehead. For it seemed as if the watcher 
 stared with his whole face, ay, and with his hands ; but 
 Fionn brooded weightedly on distance with his puckered 
 and crannied brow. 
 
 They looked again. 
 
 " What can you see ? " said Fionn. 
 
 " I see nothing," said the watcher. 
 
 " I do not know if I see or if I surmise, but something 
 moves," said Fionn. " There is a trample," he said, 
 
 195 
 
196 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 The watcher became then an eye, a rigidity, an intense 
 out-thrusting and ransacking of thin-spun distance. At 
 last he spoke : 
 
 " There is a dust," he said. 
 
 And at that the champions gazed also, straining hungrily 
 afar, until their eyes became filled with a blue darkness 
 and they could no longer see even the things that were close 
 to them. 
 
 " I," cried Conan triumphantly, " I see a dust." 
 
 " And I," cried another. 
 
 " And I." 
 
 " I see a man," said the eagle-eyed watcher. 
 
 And again they stared, until their straining eyes grew 
 dim with tears and winks, and they saw trees that stood up 
 and sat down, and fields that wobbled and spun round and 
 round in a giddily swirling world. 
 
 " There is a man," Conan roared. 
 
 " A man there is," cried another. 
 
 " And he is carrying a man on his back," said the watcher. 
 " It is Gael of the Iron carrying the Carl on his back," he 
 groaned. 
 
 " The great pork ! " a man gritted. 
 
 " The no-good ! " sobbed another. 
 
 " The lean-hearted," 
 
 " Thick-thighed," 
 
 " Ramshackle," 
 
 " Muddle-headed," 
 
 " Hog ! " screamed a champion. 
 
 And he beat his fists angrily against a tree. 
 
 But the eagle-eyed watcher watched until his eyes 
 narrowed and became pin-points, and he ceased to be a man 
 and became an optic. 
 
vii THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT 197 
 
 " Wait," he breathed, " wait until I screw into one 
 other inch of sight." 
 
 And they waited, looking no longer on that scarcely 
 perceptible speck in the distance, but straining upon the 
 eye of the watcher as though they would penetrate it and 
 look through it. 
 
 " It is the Carl," he said, " carrying something on his 
 back, and behind him again there is a dust." 
 
 " Are you sure ? " said Fionn in a voice that rumbled 
 and vibrated like thunder. 
 
 " It is the Carl," said the watcher, " and the dust behind 
 him is Gael of the Iron trying to catch him up." 
 
 Then the Fianna gave a roar of exultation, and each 
 man seized his neighbour and kissed him on both cheeks ; 
 and they gripped hands about Fionn, and they danced round 
 and round in a great circle, roaring with laughter and relief, 
 in the ecstasy which only comes where grisly fear has been 
 and whence that bony jowl has taken itself away. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE Carl of the Drab Coat came bumping and stumping 
 and clumping into the camp, and was surrounded by a 
 multitude that adored him and hailed him with tears. 
 
 " Meal ! " he bawled, " meal for the love of the stars ! " 
 
 And he bawled, " Meal, meal ! " until he bawled every- 
 body into silence. 
 
 Fionn addressed him. 
 
 " What for, the meal, dear heart ? " 
 
 " For the inside of my mouth," said the Carl, " for the 
 recesses and crannies and deep-down profundities of my 
 stomach. Meal, meal ! " he lamented. 
 
 Meal was brought. 
 
 The Carl put his coat on the ground, opened it carefully, 
 and revealed a store of blackberries, squashed, crushed, 
 mangled, democratic, ill-looking. 
 
 ' The meal ! " he groaned, " the meal ! " 
 
 It was given to him. 
 ' What of the race, my pulse ? " said Fionn. 
 
 " Wait, wait," cried the Carl. " I die, I die for meal 
 and blackberries." 
 
 Into the centre of the mess of blackberries he discharged 
 a barrel of meal, and he mixed the two up and through, 
 and round and down, until the pile of white-black, red- 
 brown slibber-slobber reached up to his shoulders. Then 
 
 198 
 
CH.VIII THE CARL OF THE DRAB COAT 199 
 
 he commenced to paw and impel and project and cram the 
 mixture into his mouth, and between each mouthful he 
 sighed a contented sigh, and during every mouthful he 
 gurgled an oozy gurgle. 
 
 But while Fionn and the Fianna stared like lost minds 
 upon the Carl, there came a sound of buzzing, as if a hornet 
 or a queen of the wasps or a savage, steep-winged griffin was 
 hovering about them, and looking away they saw Gael of 
 the Iron charging on them with a monstrous extension and 
 scurry of his legs. He had a sword in his hand, and there 
 was nothing in his face but redness and ferocity. 
 
 Fear fell like night around the Fianna, and they stood 
 with slack knees and hanging hands waiting for death. But 
 the Carl lifted a pawful of his oozy slop and discharged 
 this at Gael with such a smash that the man's head spun off 
 his shoulders and hopped along the ground. The Carl 
 then picked up the head and threw it at the body with such 
 aim and force that the neck part of the head jammed into 
 the neck part of the body and stuck there, as good a head 
 as ever, you would have said, but that it had got twisted the 
 wrong way round. The Carl then lashed his opponent 
 hand and foot. 
 
 " Now, dear heart, do you still claim tribute and lordship 
 of Ireland ? " said he. 
 
 " Let me go home," groaned Gael, " I want to go 
 home." 
 
 " Swear by the sun and moon, if I let you go home, 
 that you will send to Fionn, yearly and every year, the rent 
 of the land of Thessaly." 
 
 " I swear that," said Gael, " and I would swear anything 
 to get home." 
 
 The Carl lifted him then and put him sitting into his 
 
200 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, vm 
 
 ship. Then he raised his big boot and gave the boat a kick 
 that drove it seven leagues out into the sea, and that was 
 how the adventure of Gael of the Iron finished. 
 
 " Who are you, sir ? " said Fionn to the Carl. 
 
 But before answering the Carl's shape changed into one 
 of splendour and delight. 
 
 " I am ruler of the Shi of Rath Cruachan," he said. 
 
 Then Fionn mac Uail made a feast and a banquet for the 
 jovial god, and with that the tale is ended of the King of 
 Thessaly's son and the Carl of the Drab Coat. 
 
 
THE ENCHANTED CAVE OF CESH 
 
 CORRAN 
 
 201 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 FIONN MAC UAIL was the most prudent chief of an army in 
 the world, but he was not always prudent on his own account. 
 Discipline sometimes irked him, and he would then take any 
 opportunity that presented for an adventure ; for he was not 
 only a soldier, he was a poet also, that is, a man of science, Y 
 and whatever was strange or unusual had an irresistible 
 attraction for him. 
 
 Such a soldier was he that, single-handed, he could 
 take the Fianna out of any hole they got into, but such an 
 inveterate poet was he that all the Fianna together could 
 scarcely retrieve him from the abysses into which he tumbled. 
 It took him to keep the Fianna safe, but it took all the Fianna 
 to keep their captain out of danger. They did not complain 
 of this, for they loved every hair of Fionn's head more than 
 they loved their wives and children, and that was reasonable, 
 for there was never in the world a person more worthy of 
 love than Fionn was. 
 
 Goll mac Morna did not admit so much in words, but he 
 admitted it in all his actions, for although he never lost an 
 opportunity of killing a member of Fionn's family (there 
 was deadly feud between clann-Baiscne and clann-Morna), 
 yet a call from Fionn brought Goll raging to his assistance 
 like a lion that rages tenderly by his mate. Not even a call 
 was necessary, for Goll felt in his heart when Fionn was 
 
 203 
 
204 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, i 
 
 threatened, and he would leave Fionn's own brother only 
 half-killed to fly where his arm was wanted. He was never 
 thanked, of course, for although Fionn loved Goll he did not 
 like him, and that was how Goll felt towards Fionn. 
 
 Fionn, with Condn the Swearer and the dogs Bran and 
 Sce61an, was sitting on the hunting -mound at the top of 
 Cesh Corran. Below and around on every side the Fianna 
 were beating the coverts in Legney and Brefny, ranging the 
 fastnesses of Glen Dalian, creeping in the nut and beech 
 forests of Carbury, spying among the woods of Kyle Conor, 
 and ranging the wide plain of Moy Conal. 
 
 The great captain was happy : his eyes were resting on 
 the sights he liked best the sunlight of a clear day, the 
 waving trees, the pure sky, and the lovely movement of the 
 earth ; and his ears were filled with delectable sounds the 
 baying of eager dogs, the clear calling of young men, the 
 shrill whistling that came from every side, and each sound 
 of which told a definite thing about the hunt. There was 
 also the plunge and scurry of the deer, the yapping of 
 badgers, and the whirr of birds driven into reluctant flight. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 Now the king of the Shf of Cesh Corran, Conaran, son of 
 Imidel, was also watching the hunt, but Fionn did not see 
 him, for we cannot see the people of Faery until we enter 
 their realm, and Fionn was not thinking of Faery at that 
 moment. Conaran did not like Fionn, and, seeing that the 
 great champion was alone, save for Condn and the two hounds 
 Bran and Scedlan, he thought the time had come to get Fionn 
 into his power. We do not know what Fionn had done to 
 Conaran, but it must have been bad enough, for the king 
 of the Shf of Cesh Corran was filled with joy at the sight of 
 Fionn thus close to him, thus unprotected, thus unsuspicious. 
 
 This Conaran had four daughters. He was fond of 
 them and proud of them, but if one were to search the Shis 
 of Ireland or the land of Ireland, the equal of these four 
 would not be found for ugliness and bad humour and twisted 
 temperaments. 
 
 Their hair was black as ink and tough as wire : it stuck 
 up and poked out and hung down about their heads in bushes 
 and spikes and tangles. Their eyes were bleary and red. 
 Their mouths were black and twisted, and in each of these 
 mouths there was a hedge of curved yellow fangs. They had 
 long scraggy necks that could turn all the way round like 
 the neck of a hen. Their arms were long and skinny and 
 
 205 
 
206 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 muscular, and at the end of each finger they had a spiked 
 nail that was as hard as horn and as sharp as a briar. Their 
 bodies were covered with a bristle of hair and fur and fluff, 
 so that they looked like dogs in some parts and like cats in: 
 others, and in other parts again they looked like chickens. 
 They had moustaches poking under their noses and woolly 
 wads growing out of their ears, so that when you looked i 
 at them the first time you never wanted to look at them) 
 again, and if you had to look at them a second time you> 
 were likely to die of the sight. 
 
 They were called Caev6g, Guillen, and laran. The 
 fourth daughter, larnach, was not present at that moment, 
 so nothing need be said of her yet. 
 
 Conaran called these three to him. 
 
 " Fionn is alone," said he. " Fionn is alone, my treasures. 3 
 
 " Ah ! " said Caev6g, and her jaw crunched upwan 
 and stuck outwards, as was usual with her when she 
 satisfied. 
 
 "When the chance comes take it," Conaran continue* 
 and he smiled a black, beetle-browed, unbenevolent smile. 
 
 " It's a good word," quoth Guillen, and she swung her 
 jaw loose and made it waggle up and down, for that was 
 the way she smiled. 
 
 " And here is the chance," her father added. 
 
 " The chance is here," laran echoed, with a smile that 
 was very like her sister's, only that it was worse, and the 
 wen that grew on her nose joggled to and fro and did not 
 get its balance again for a long time. 
 
 Then they smiled a smile that was agreeable to their 
 own eyes, but which would have been a deadly thing for 
 anybody else to see. 
 
 " But Fionn cannot see us," Caevog objected, and her 
 
 
ii ENCHANTED CAVE OF CESH CORRAN 207 
 
 brow set downwards and her chin set upwards and her mouth 
 squeezed sidewards, so that her face looked like a badly 
 disappointed nut. 
 
 " And we are worth seeing," Guillen continued, and 
 the disappointment that was set in her sister's face got carved 
 and twisted into hers, but it was worse in her case. 
 
 " That is the truth," said laran in a voice of lamentation, 
 and her face took on a gnarl and a writhe and a solidity of 
 ugly woe that beat the other two and made even her father 
 marvel. 
 
 " He cannot see us now," Conaran replied, " but he 
 will see us in a minute." 
 
 " Won't Fionn be glad when he sees us ! " said the three 
 sisters. 
 
 And then they joined hands and danced joyfully around 
 their father, and they sang a song, the first line of which is : 
 
 Fionn thinks he is safe. But who knows when the sky will fall ? 
 
 Lots of the people in the Shf learned that song by heart, 
 and they applied it to every kind of circumstance. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 BY his arts Conaran changed the sight of Fionn's eyes, and i 
 he did the same for Condn. 
 
 In a few minutes Fionn stood up from his place on the 
 mound. Everything was about him as before, and he did 
 not know that he had gone into Faery. He walked for a< 
 minute up and down the hillock. Then, as by chance, he 
 stepped down the sloping end of the mound and stood with 
 his mouth open, staring. He cried out : 
 
 " Come down here, Conan, my darling." 
 
 Conan stepped down to him. 
 
 " Am I dreaming," Fionn demanded, and he stretched 
 out his finger before him. 
 
 " If you are dreaming," said Con&n, " I'm dreaming 
 too. They weren't here a minute ago," he stammered. 
 
 Fionn looked up at the sky and found that it was still 
 there. He stared to one side and saw the trees of Kyle 
 Conor waving in the distance. He bent his ear to the wind 
 and heard the shouting of hunters, the yapping of dogs, 
 and the clear whistles, which told how the hunt was going. 
 
 " Well I " said Fionn to himself. 
 
 " By my hand ! " quoth Conan to his own soul. 
 
 And the two men stared into the hillside as though what t 
 they were looking at was too wpnderful to be looked away; 
 from. 
 
 208 
 
CH.III ENCHANTED CAVE OF CESH CORRAN 209 
 
 " Who are they ? " said Fionn. 
 
 " What are they ? " Conan gasped. 
 
 And they stared again. 
 
 For there was a great hole like a doorway in the side 
 of the mound, and in that doorway the daughters of 
 Conaran sat spinning. They had three crooked sticks of 
 holly set up before the cave, and they were reeling yarn off 
 these. But it was enchantment they were weaving. 
 
 " One could not call them handsome," said Conan. 
 
 " One could," Fionn replied, " but it would not be true." 
 
 " I cannot see them properly,' ' Fionn complained. " They 
 are hiding behind the holly." 
 
 " I would be contented if I could not see them at all," 
 his companion grumbled. 
 
 But the Chief insisted. 
 
 " I want to make sure that it is whiskers they are 
 wearing." 
 
 " Let them wear whiskers or not wear them," Conan 
 counselled. " But let us have nothing to do with them." 
 
 " One must not be frightened of anything," Fionn stated. 
 
 " I am not frightened," Conan explained. " I only 
 want to keep my good opinion of women, and if the three 
 yonder are women, then I feel sure I shall begin to dislike 
 females from this minute out." 
 
 " Come on, my love," said Fionn, " for I must find out 
 if these whiskers are true." 
 
 He strode resolutely into the cave. He pushed the 
 branches of holly aside and marched up to Conaran's 
 daughters, with Conan behind him. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE instant they passed the holly a strange weakness came 
 over the heroes. Their fists seemed to grow heavy as lead, 
 and went dingle-dangle at the ends of their arms ; their 
 legs became as light as straws and began to bend in and 
 out ; their necks became too delicate to hold anything up, , 
 so that their heads wibbled and wobbled from side to side. 
 
 " What's wrong at all ? " said Conan, as he tumbled to 
 the ground. 
 
 " Everything is," Fionn replied, and he tumbled beside 
 him. 
 
 The three sisters then tied the heroes with every kind 
 of loop and twist and knot that could be thought of. 
 
 " Those are whiskers ! " said Fionn. 
 
 " Alas ! " said Condn. 
 
 " What a place you must hunt whiskers in ! " he mumbled 
 savagely. " Who wants whiskers ? " he groaned. 
 
 But Fionn was thinking of other things. 
 
 " If there was any way of warning the Fianna not to 
 come here," Fionn murmured. 
 
 " There is no way, my darling," said Caev6g, and she 
 smiled a smile that would have killed Fionn, only that h< 
 shut his eyes in time. 
 
 After a moment he murmured again : 
 
 210 
 
"This one is fat," said Guillen, and she rolled a bulky Fenian along like a wheel. 
 
 To face page 210, 
 


CH. iv ENCHANTED CAVE OF CESH CORRAN 211 
 
 " Condn, my dear love, give the warning whistle so that 
 the Fianna will keep out of this place." 
 
 A little whoof, like the sound that would be made by a 
 baby and it asleep, came from Condn. 
 
 " Fionn," said he, " there isn't a whistle in me. We are 
 done for," said he. 
 
 " You are done for, indeed," said Guillen, and she 
 smiled a hairy and twisty and fangy smile that almost finished 
 Condn. 
 
 By that time some of the Fianna had returned to the 
 mound to see why Bran and Sce61an were barking so out- 
 rageously. They saw the cave and went into it, but no sooner 
 had they passed the holly branches than their strength went 
 from them, and they were seized and bound by the vicious 
 hags. Little by little all the members of the Fianna returned 
 to the hill, and each of them was drawn into the cave, and 
 each was bound by the sisters. 
 
 Oism and Oscar and mac Lugac came, with the nobles 
 of clann-Baiscne, and with those of clann-Corcoran and clann- 
 Sm61 ; they all came, and they were all bound. 
 
 It was a wonderful sight and a great deed this binding 
 of the Fianna, and the three sisters laughed with a joy that 
 was terrible to hear and was almost death to see. As the 
 men were captured they were carried by the hags into dark 
 mysterious holes and black perplexing labyrinths. 
 
 " Here is another one," cried Caev6g as she bundled 
 a trussed champion along. 
 
 " This one is fat," said Guillen, and she rolled a bulky 
 Fenian along like a wheel. 
 
 "Here," said laran, "is a love of a man. One could 
 eat this kind of man," she murmured, and she licked a lip 
 that had whiskers growing inside as well as out. 
 
212 
 
 IRISH FAIRY STORIES 
 
 
 CHAP. IV 
 
 And the corded champion whimpered in her arms, for 
 he did not know but eating might indeed be his fate, and 
 he would have preferred to be coffined anywhere in the 
 world rather than to be coffined inside of that face. 
 
 So far for them. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 WITHIN the cave there was silence except for the voices of 
 the hags and the scarcely audible moaning of the Fianna- 
 Finn, but without there was a dreadful uproar, for as each 
 man returned from the chase his dogs came with him, and 
 although the men went into the cave the dogs did not. 
 
 They were too wise. 
 
 They stood outside, filled with savagery and terror, for 
 they could scent their masters and their masters' danger, 
 and perhaps they could get from the cave smells till then 
 unknown and full of alarm. 
 
 From the troop of dogs there arose a baying and barking, 
 a snarling and howling and growling, a yelping and squealing 
 and bawling for which no words can be found. Now and 
 again a dog nosed among a thousand smells and scented his 
 master ; the ruff of his neck stood up like a hog's bristles 
 and a nettly ridge prickled along his spine. Then with red 
 eyes, with bared fangs, with a hoarse, deep snort and growl 
 he rushed at the cave, and then he halted and sneaked back 
 again with all his ruffles smoothed, his tail between his legs, 
 his eyes screwed sideways in miserable apology and alarm, 
 and a long thin whine of woe dribbling out of his nose. 
 
 The three sisters took their wide-channelled, hard- 
 tempered swords in their hands, and prepared to slay the 
 
 213 
 
2i 4 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 Fianna, but before doing so they gave one more look from 
 the door of the cave to see if there might be a straggler of 
 the Fianna who was escaping death by straggling, and they 
 saw one coming towards diem with Bran and Sce61an leaping 
 beside him, while all the other dogs began to burst their 
 throats with barks and split their noses with snorts and wag 
 their tails off at sight of the tall, valiant, white-toothed 
 champion, Goll mor mac Morna. 
 
 " We will kill that one first," said Caev6g. 
 
 " There is only one of him," said Guillen. 
 
 " And each of us three is the match for an hundred," 
 said laran. 
 
 The uncanny, misbehaved, and outrageous harridans 
 advanced then to meet the son of Morna, and when he saw 
 these three Goll whipped the sword from his thigh, swung 
 his buckler round, and got to them in ten great leaps. 
 
 Silence fell on the world during that conflict. The 
 wind went down ; the clouds stood still ; the old hill itself 
 held its breath ; the warriors within ceased to be men and 
 became each an ear ; and the dogs sat in a vast circle round 
 the combatants, with their heads all to one side, their noses 
 poked forward, their mouths half-open, and their tails for- 
 gotten. Now and again a dog whined in a whisper and 
 snapped a little snap on the air, but except for that there was 
 neither sound nor movement. 
 
 It was a long fight. It was a hard and a tricky fight, 
 and Goll won it by bravery and strategy and great good 
 luck ; for with one shrewd slice of his blade he carved two 
 of these mighty termagants into equal halves, so that there 
 were noses and whiskers to his right hand and knees and toes 
 to his left : and that stroke was known afterwards as one 
 of the three great sword-strokes of Ireland. The third hag, 
 

They stood outside, filled with savagery and terror. 
 
 To face page 214... 
 
 
v ENCHANTED CAVE OF CESH CORK AN 215 
 
 however, had managed to get behind Goll, and she leaped on 
 to his back with the bound of a panther, and hung there 
 with the skilful, many-legged, tight-twisted clutching of a 
 spider. But the great champion gave a twist of his hips 
 and a swing of his shoulders that whirled her around him 
 like a sack. He got her on the ground and tied her hands 
 with the straps of a shield, and he was going to give her the 
 last blow when she appealed to his honour and bravery. 
 
 " I put my life under your protection," said she. " And 
 if you let me go free I will lift the enchantment from the 
 Fianna-Finn and will give them all back to you again." 
 
 " I agree to that," said Goll, and he untied her straps. 
 
 The harridan did as she had promised, and in a short time 
 Fionn and Oisfn and Oscar and Conan were released, and 
 after that all the Fianna were released. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 As each man came out of the cave he gave a jump and a 
 shout ; the courage of the world went into him and he felt 
 that he could fight twenty. But while they were talking 
 over the adventure and explaining how it had happened, 
 a vast figure strode over the side of the hill and descended 
 among them. 
 
 It was Conaran's fourth daughter. 
 
 If the other three had been terrible to look on, this one 
 was more terrible than the three together. She was clad 
 in iron plate, and she had a wicked sword by her side 
 and a knobby club in her hand. She halted by the bodies 
 of her sisters, and bitter tears streamed down into her 
 beard. 
 
 " Alas, my sweet ones," said she, " I am too late." 
 
 And then she stared fiercely at Fionn. 
 
 " I demand a combat," she roared. 
 
 " It is your right," said Fionn. 
 
 He turned to his son. 
 
 " Oisfn, my heart, kill me this honourable hag." 
 
 But for the only time in his life Oisfn shrank from a 
 combat. 
 
 " I cannot do it," he said, " I feel too weak." 
 
 Fionn was astounded. 
 
 216 
 
CH.VI ENCHANTED CAVE OF CESH CORRAN 217 
 
 " Oscar," he said, " will you kill me this great hag ? " 
 
 Oscar stammered miserably, " I would not be able to," 
 he said. 
 
 Condn also refused, and so did Caelte mac Rondn and 
 mac Lugac, for there was no man there but was terrified by 
 the sight of that mighty and valiant harridan. 
 
 Fionn rose to his feet. " I will take this combat myself," 
 he said sternly. 
 
 And he swung his buckler forward and stretched his 
 right hand to the sword. But at that terrible sight Goll mor 
 mac Morna blushed deeply and leaped from the ground. 
 
 " No, no," he cried ; " no, my soul, Fionn, this would 
 not be a proper combat for you. I take this fight." 
 
 " You have done your share, Goll," said the captain. 
 
 " I should finish the fight I began," Goll continued, 
 " for it was I who killed the two sisters of this valiant hag, 
 and it is against me the feud lies." 
 
 " That will do for me," said the horrible daughter of 
 Conaran. " I will kill Goll mor mac Morna first, and after 
 that I will kill Fionn, and after that I will kill every Fenian 
 of the Fianna-Finn." 
 
 " You may begin, Goll," said Fionn, " and I give you 
 my blessing." 
 
 Goll then strode forward to the fight, and the hag moved 
 against him with equal alacrity. In a moment the heavens 
 rang to the clash of swords on bucklers. It was hard to 
 withstand the terrific blows of that mighty female, for her 
 sword played with the quickness of lightning and smote 
 like the heavy crashing of a storm. But into that din and 
 encirclement Goll pressed and ventured, steady as a rock in 
 water, agile as a creature of the sea, and when one of the 
 combatants retreated it was the hag that gave backwards. 
 
218 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, vi 
 
 As her foot moved a great shout of joy rose from the Fianna. 
 A snarl went over the huge face of the monster and she 
 leaped forward again, but she met Goll's point in the road ; 
 it went through her, and in another moment Goll took her 
 head from its shoulders and swung it on high before Fionn. 
 
 As the Fianna turned homewards Fionn spoke to his 
 great champion and enemy. 
 
 " Goll," he said, " I have a daughter." 
 
 " A lovely girl, a blossom of the dawn," said Goll. 
 
 " Would she please you as a wife ? " the chief demanded. 
 
 " She would please me," said Goll. 
 
 " She is your wife," said Fionn. 
 
 But that did not prevent Goll from killing Fionn's brother 
 Cairell later on, nor did it prevent Fionn from killing Goll 
 later on again, and the last did not prevent Goll from rescuing 
 Fionn out of hell when the Fianna-Finn were sent there 
 under the new God. Nor is there any reason to complain or 
 to be astonished at these things, for it is a mutual world we 
 live in, a give-and-take world, and there is no great harm 
 in it. 
 
BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN 
 
 219 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 THERE are more worlds than one, and in many ways they 
 are unlike each other. But joy and sorrow, or, in other 
 words, good and evil, are not absent in their degree from 
 any of the worlds, for wherever there is life there is action, 
 and action is but the expression of one or other of these 
 qualities. 
 
 After this Earth there is the world of the Shf. Beyond 
 it again lies the Many-Coloured Land. Next comes the 
 Land of Wonder, and after that the Land of Promise 
 awaits us. You will cross clay to get into the Shf ; you will 
 cross water to attain the Many-Coloured Land ; fire must 
 be passed ere the Land of Wonder is attained, but we do 
 not know what will be crossed for the fourth world. 
 
 This adventure of Conn the Hundred Fighter and his 
 son Art was by the way of water, and therefore he was 
 more advanced in magic than Fionn was, all of whose 
 adventures were by the path of clay and into Faery only, 
 
 221 
 
222 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 but Conn was the High King and so the arch-magician 
 of Ireland. 
 
 A council had been called in the Many-Coloured Land 
 to discuss the case of a lady named Becuma Cneisgel, that 
 is, Becuma of the White Skin, the daughter of Eogan Inver. 
 She had run away from her husband Labraid and had taken 
 refuge with Gadiar, one of the sons of Mananndn mac Lir, 
 the god of the sea, and the ruler, therefore, of that sphere. 
 
 It seems, then, that there is marriage in two other 
 spheres. In the Shf matrimony is recorded as being 
 parallel in every respect with earth - marriage, and the 
 desire which urges to it seems to be as violent and inconstant 
 as it is with us ; but in the Many-Coloured Land marriage 
 is but a contemplation of beauty, a brooding and medi- 
 tation wherein all grosser desire is unknown and children 
 are born to sinless parents. 
 
 In the Shf the crime of Becuma would have been 
 lightly considered, and would have received none or but 
 a nominal punishment, but in the second world a horrid 
 gravity attaches to such a lapse, and the retribution meted 
 is implacable and grim. It may be dissolution by fire, and 
 that can note a destruction too final for the mind to contem- 
 plate ; or it may be banishment from that sphere to a lower 
 and worse one. 
 
 This was the fate of Becuma of the White Skin. 
 
 One may wonder how, having attained to that sphere, 
 she could have carried with her so strong a memory of the 
 earth. It is certain that she was not a fit person to exist 
 in the Many-Coloured Land, and it is to be feared that she 
 was organised too grossly even for life in the Shi. 
 
 She was an earth-woman, and she was banished to the 
 earth. 
 
 
 
i BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN 223 
 
 Word was sent to the Shis of Ireland that this lady 
 should not be permitted to enter any of them ; from which 
 it would seem that the ordinances of the Shf come from the 
 higher world, and, it might follow, that the conduct of 
 earth lies in the Shi. 
 
 In that way, the gates of her own world and the innumer- 
 able doors of Faery being closed against her, Becuma was 
 forced to appear in the world of men. 
 
 It is pleasant, however, notwithstanding her terrible 
 crime and her woeful punishment, to think how courageous 
 she was. When she was told her sentence, nay, her doom, 
 she made no outcry, nor did she waste any time in sorrow. 
 She went home and put on her nicest clothes. 
 
 She wore a red satin smock, and, over this, a cloak of 
 green silk out of which long fringes of gold swung and 
 sparkled, and she had light sandals of white bronze on her 
 thin shapely feet. She had long soft hair that was yellow 
 as gold, and soft as the curling foam of the sea. Her eyes 
 were wide and clear as water and were grey as a dove's 
 breast. Her teeth were white as snow and of an evenness 
 to marvel at. Her lips were thin and beautifully curved : 
 red lips in truth, red as winter berries and tempting as the 
 fruits of summer. The people who superintended her 
 departure said mournfully that when she was gone there 
 would be no more beauty left in their world. 
 
 She stepped into a coracle, it was pushed on the enchanted 
 waters, and it went forward, world within world, until land 
 appeared, and her boat swung in low tide against a rock at 
 the foot of Ben Edair. 
 
 So far for her. 
 

 CHAPTER II 
 
 CONN the Hundred Fighter, Ard-Ri of Ireland, was in the 
 lowest spirits that can be imagined, for his wife was dead. 
 He had been Ard-Ri for nine years, and during his 
 term the corn used to be reaped three times in each year, 
 and there was full and plenty of everything. There are 
 few kings who can boast of more kingly results than he 
 can, but there was sore trouble in store for him. 
 
 He had been married to Eithne, the daughter of 
 Brisland Binn, King of Norway, and, next to his subjects, 
 he loved his wife more than all that was lovable in the 
 world. But the term of man and woman, of king or queen, 
 is set in the stars, and there is no escaping Doom for any 
 one ; so, when her time came, Eithne died. 
 
 Now there were three great burying-places in Ireland 
 the Brugh of the Boyne in Ulster, over which Angus Og 
 is chief and god ; the Shi mound of Cruachan Ahi, where 
 Ethal Anbual presides over the underworld of Connacht ; 
 and Tailltin, in Royal Meath. It was in this last, the sacred 
 place of his own lordship, that Conn laid his wife to rest. 
 
 Her funeral games were played during nine days. Her 
 keen was sung by poets and harpers, and a cairn ten acres 
 wide was heaved over her clay. Then the keening ceased 
 and the games drew to an end ; the princes of the Five 
 Provinces returned by horse or by chariot to their own 
 
 224 
 
CHAP, ii BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN 225 
 
 places ; the concourse of mourners melted away, and there 
 was nothing left by the great cairn but the sun that dozed 
 upon It in the daytime, the heavy clouds that brooded on 
 it in the night, and the desolate, memoried king. 
 
 For the dead queen had been so lovely that Conn could 
 not forget her ; she had been so kind at every moment that 
 he could not but miss her at every moment ; but it was in 
 the Council Chamber and the Judgement Hall that he most 
 pondered her memory. For she had also been wise, and 
 lacking her guidance, all grave affairs seemed graver, shadow- 
 ing each day and going with him to the pillow at night. 
 
 The trouble of the king becomes the trouble of the 
 subject, for how shall we live if judgement is withheld, or 
 if faulty decisions are promulgated ? Therefore, with the 
 sorrow of the king, all Ireland was in grief, and it was the 
 wish of every person that he should marry again. 
 
 Such an idea, however, did not occur to him, for he 
 could not conceive how any woman should fill the place his 
 queen had vacated. He grew more and more despondent, 
 and less and less fitted to cope with affairs of state, and one 
 day he instructed his son Art to take the rule during his 
 absence, and he set out for Ben Ed air. 
 
 For a great wish had come upon him to walk beside the 
 sea ; to listen to the roll and boom of long, grey breakers ; 
 to gaze on an unfruitful, desolate wilderness of waters; 
 and to forget in those sights all that he could forget, and 
 if he could not forget then to remember all that he should 
 remember. 
 
 He was thus gazing and brooding when one day he 
 observed a coracle drawing to the shore. A young girl 
 stepped from it and walked to him among black boulders 
 and patches of yellow sand. 
 
 Q 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 BEING a king he had authority to ask questions. Conn 
 asked her, therefore, all the questions that he could think 
 of, for it is not every day that a lady drives from the sea, 
 and she wearing a golden-fringed cloak of green silk through 
 which a red satin smock peeped at the openings. She 
 replied to his questions, but she did not tell him all the 
 truth ; for, indeed, she could not afford to. 
 
 She knew who he was, for she retained some of the 
 
 226 
 
CHAP, in BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN 227 
 
 powers proper to the worlds she had left, and as he 
 looked on her soft yellow hair and on her thin red 
 lips, Conn recognised, as all men do, that one who is 
 lovely must also be good, and so he did not frame any 
 inquiry on that count ; for everything is forgotten in 
 the presence of a pretty woman, and a magician can be 
 bewitched also. 
 
 She told Conn that the fame of his son Art had reached 
 even the Many-Coloured Land, and that she had fallen in 
 love with the boy. This did not seem unreasonable to one 
 who had himself ventured much in Faery, and who had 
 known so many of the people of that world leave their own 
 land for the love of a mortal. 
 
 " What is your name, my sweet lady ? " said the king. 
 
 " I am called Delvcaem (Fair Shape) and I am the 
 daughter of Morgan," she replied. 
 
 " I have heard much of Morgan," said the king. " He 
 is a very great magician." 
 
 During this conversation Conn had been regarding her 
 with the minute freedom which is right only in a king. At 
 what precise instant he forgot his dead consort we do not 
 know, but it is certain that at this moment his mind was no 
 longer burdened with that dear and lovely memory. His 
 voice was melancholy when he spoke again. 
 ' You love my son ! >: 
 
 " Who could avoid loving him ? " she murmured. 
 
 " When a woman speaks to a man about the love 
 she feels for another man she is not liked. And," he 
 continued, " when she speaks to a man who has no wife 
 of his own about her love for another man then she is 
 disliked." 
 
 " I would not be disliked by you," Becuma murmured. 
 
228 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 " Nevertheless," said he regally, " I will not come 
 between a woman and her choice." 
 
 " I did not know you lacked a wife," said Becuma, but 
 indeed she did. 
 
 " You know it now," the king replied sternly. 
 
 " What shall I do ? " she inquired ; " am I to wed you 
 or your son ? " 
 
 " You must choose," Conn answered. 
 
 " If you allow me to choose it means that you do not 
 want me very badly," said she with a smile. 
 
 " Then I will not allow you to choose," cried the king, 
 " and it is with myself you shall marry." 
 
 He took her hand in his and kissed it. 
 
 " Lovely is this pale thin hand. Lovely is the slender 
 foot that I see in a small bronze shoe," said the king. 
 
 After a suitable time she continued : 
 
 <k I should not like your son to be at Tara when I am 
 there, or for a year afterwards, for I do not wish to meet 
 him until I have forgotten him and have come to know 
 you well." 
 
 " I do not wish to banish my son," the king protested. 
 
 " It would not really be a banishment," she said. " A 
 prince's duty could be set him, and in such an absence he 
 would improve his knowledge both of Ireland and of men. 
 Further," she continued with downcast eyes, " when you 
 remember the reason that brought me here you will see 
 that his presence would be an embarrassment to us both, and 
 my presence would be unpleasant to him if he remembers 
 his mother." 
 
 " Nevertheless," said Conn stubbornly, " I do not wish 
 to banish my son ; it is awkward and unnecessary." 
 
 " For a year only," she pleaded. 
 
in BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN 229 
 
 " It is yet," he continued thoughtfully, " a reasonable 
 reason that you give and I will do what you ask, but by 
 my hand and word I don't like doing it." 
 
 They set out then briskly and joyfully on the home- 
 ward journey, and in due time they reached Tara of the 
 Kings. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 IT is part of the education of a prince to be a good chess 
 player, and to continually exercise his mind in view of the 
 judgements that he will be called upon to give and the 
 knotty, tortuous, and perplexing matters which will obscure 
 the issues which he must judge. Art, the son of Conn, 
 was sitting at chess with Cromdes, his father's magician. 
 
 " Be very careful about the move you are going to 
 make," said Cromdes. 
 
 " Can I be careful ? " Art inquired. " Is the move that 
 you are thinking of in my power ? " 
 
 " It is not," the other admitted. 
 
 " Then I need not be more careful than usual," An 
 replied, and he made his move. 
 
 " It is a move of banishment," said Cromdes. 
 
 E< As I will not banish myself, I suppose my father will 
 do it, but I do not know why he should." 
 
 " Your father will not banish you." 
 
 " Who then ? " 
 
 " Your mother." 
 
 ' My mother is dead." 
 
 ' You have a new one," said the magician. 
 
 " Here is news," said Art. " I think I shall not love 
 my new mother." 
 
 230 
 
CH.IV BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN 231 
 
 " You will yet love her better than she loves you," said 
 Cromdes, meaning thereby that they would hate each 
 other. 
 
 While they spoke the king and Becuma entered the 
 palace. 
 
 !< I had better go to greet my father," said the young 
 man. 
 
 " You had better wait until he sends for you," his 
 companion advised, and they returned to their game. 
 
 In due time a messenger came from the king directing 
 Art to leave Tara instantly, and to leave Ireland for one 
 full year. 
 
 He left Tara that night, and for the space of a year he 
 was not seen again in Ireland. But during that period 
 things did not go well with the king nor with Ireland. 
 Every year before that time three crops of corn used to be 
 lifted off the land, but during Art's absence there was no 
 corn in Ireland and there was no milk. The whole land 
 went hungry. 
 
 Lean people were in every house, lean cattle in every 
 field ; the bushes did not swing out their timely berries or 
 seasonable nuts ; the bees went abroad as busily as ever, 
 but each night they returned languidly, with empty pouches, 
 and there was no honey in their hives when the honey 
 season came. People began to look at each other question- 
 ingly, meaningly, and dark remarks passed between them, 
 for they knew that a bad harvest means, somehow, a bad 
 king, and, although this belief can be combated, it is too firmly 
 rooted in wisdom to be dismissed. 
 
 The poets and magicians met to consider why this 
 disaster should have befallen the country, and by their arts 
 they discovered the truth about the king's wife, and that 
 
2 3 2 
 
 IRISH FAIRY STORIES 
 
 CHAP. IV 
 
 she was Becuma of the White Skin, and they discovered 
 also the cause of her banishment from the Many-Coloured 
 Land that is beyond the sea, which is beyond even the 
 grave. 
 
 They told the truth to the king, but he could not bear 
 to be parted from that slender-handed, gold-haired, thin- 
 lipped, blithe enchantress, and he required them to discover 
 some means whereby he might retain his wife and his 
 crown. There was a way and the magicians told him of it. 
 
 " If the son of a sinless couple can be found and if his 
 blood be mixed with the soil of Tara the blight and ruin 
 will depart from Ireland," said the magicians. 
 
 " If there is such a boy I will find him," cried the 
 Hundred Fighter. 
 
 At the end of a year Art returned to Tara. His father 
 delivered to him the sceptre of Ireland, and he set out on a 
 journey to find the son of a sinless couple such as he had 
 been told of. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE High King did not know where exactly he should 
 look for such a saviour, but he was well educated and knew 
 how to look for whatever was lacking. This knowledge 
 will be useful to those upon whom a similar duty should 
 ever devolve. 
 
 He went to Ben Edair. He stepped into a coracle and 
 pushed out to the deep, and he permitted the coracle to 
 go as the winds and the waves directed it. 
 
 In such a way he voyaged among the small islands of 
 the sea until he lost all knowledge of his course and was 
 adrift far out in ocean. He was under the guidance of the 
 stars and the great luminaries. 
 
 He saw black seals that stared and barked and dived 
 dancingly, with the round turn of a bow and the forward 
 onset of an arrow. Great whales came heaving from the 
 green-hued void, blowing a wave of the sea high into the 
 
 233 
 
234 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 air from their noses and smacking their wide flat tails 
 thunderously on the water. Porpoises went snorting past 
 in bands and clans. Small fish came sliding and flickering, 
 and all the outlandish creatures of the deep rose by his 
 bobbing craft and swirled and sped away. 
 
 Wild storms howled by him so that the boat climbed 
 painfully to the sky on a mile-high wave, balanced for a 
 tense moment on its level top, and sped down the glassy 
 side as a stone goes furiously from a sling. 
 
 Or, again, caught in the chop of a broken sea, it 
 stayed shuddering and backing, while above his head there 
 was only a low sad sky, and around him the lap and wash 
 of grey waves that were never the same and were never 
 different. 
 
 After long staring on the hungry nothingness of air and 
 water he would stare on the skin-stretched fabric of his boat 
 as on a strangeness, or he would examine his hands and the 
 texture of his skin and the stiff black hairs that grew behind 
 his knuckles and sprouted around his ring, and he found 
 in these things newness and wonder. 
 
 Then, when days of storm had passed, the low grey, 
 clouds shivered and cracked in a thousand places, each grim 
 islet went scudding to the horizon as though terrified by, 
 some great breadth, and when they had passed he stared 
 into vast after vast of blue infinity, in the depths of which 
 his eyes stayed and could not pierce, and wherefrom they 
 could scarcely be withdrawn. A sun beamed thence that' 
 filled the air with sparkle and the sea with a thousand lights, 
 and looking on these he was reminded of his home at Tara : 
 of the columns of white and yellow bronze that blazed i 
 out sunnily on the sun, and the red and white and yellow 
 painted roofs that beamed at and astonished the eye. 
 
v BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN 235 
 
 Sailing thus, lost in a succession of days and nights, of 
 winds and calms, he came at last to an island. 
 
 His back was turned to it, and long before he saw it he 
 smelled it and wondered ; for he had been sitting as in a 
 daze, musing on a change that had seemed to come in his 
 changeless world ; and for a long time he could not tell 
 what that was which made a difference on the salt-whipped 
 wind or why he should be excited. For suddenly he had 
 become excited and his heart leaped in violent expectation. 
 
 " It is an October smell," he said. 
 
 " It is apples that I smell." 
 
 He turned then and saw the island, fragrant with apple 
 trees, sweet with wells of wine ; and, hearkening towards 
 the shore, his ears, dulled yet with the unending rhythms 
 of the sea, distinguished and were filled with song ; for 
 the isle was, as it were, a nest of birds, and they sang 
 joyously, sweetly, triumphantly. 
 
 He landed on that lovely island, and went forward 
 under the darting birds, under the apple boughs, skirting 
 fragrant lakes about which were woods of the sacred hazel 
 and into which the nuts of knowledge fell and swam ; and 
 he blessed the gods of his people because of the ground 
 that did not shiver and because of the deeply rooted trees 
 that could not gad or budge. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 HAVING gone some distance by these pleasant ways he saw 
 a shapely house dozing in the sunlight. 
 
 It was thatched with the wings of birds, blue wing* 
 and yellow and white wings, and in the centre of the house 
 there was a door of crystal set in posts of bronze. 
 
 The queen of this island lived there, Rigru (Large- 
 eyed), the daughter of Lodan, and wife of Daire Degamra, 
 She was seated on a crystal throne with her son Segda bj 
 her side, and they welcomed the High King courteously. 
 
 There were no servants in this palace ; nor was there 
 need for them. The High King found that his hands had 
 washed themselves, and when later on he noticed that food 
 had been placed before him he noticed also that it had come 
 without the assistance of servile hands. A cloak was laid 
 gently about his shoulders, and he was glad of it, for his 
 own was soiled by exposure to sun and wind and water, 
 and was not worthy of a lady's eye. 
 
 Then he was invited to eat. 
 
 He noticed, however, that food had been set for no one 
 but himself, and this did not please him, for to eat alonet 
 was contrary to the hospitable usage of a king, and was; 
 contrary also to his contract with the gods. 
 
 " Good my hosts," he remonstrated, " it is geasa (taboo) 
 for me to eat alone." 
 
 236 
 
CH.VI BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN 237 
 
 " But we never eat together," the queen replied. 
 
 " I cannot violate my geasa," said the High King. 
 
 " I will eat with you," said Segda (Sweet Speech), " and 
 thus, while you are our guest you will not do violence to 
 your vows." 
 
 " Indeed," said Conn, " that will be a great satisfaction, 
 for I have already all the trouble that I can cope with and 
 have no wish to add to it by offending the gods." 
 
 " What is your trouble ? " the gentle queen asked. 
 
 " During a year," Conn replied, " there has been 
 neither corn nor milk in Ireland. The land is parched, 
 the trees are withered, the birds do not sing in Ireland, and 
 the bees do not make honey." 
 
 _" You are certainly in trouble," the queen assented. 
 
 " But," she continued, " for what purpose have you 
 come to our island ? >: 
 
 " I have come to ask for the loan of your son." 
 
 " A loan of my son ! " 
 
 " I have been informed," Conn explained, " that if the 
 son of a sinless couple is brought to Tara and is bathed in 
 the waters of Ireland the land will be delivered from those 
 ills." 
 
 The king of this island, Daire, had not hitherto spoken, 
 but he now did so with astonishment and emphasis. 
 
 " We would not lend our son to any one, not even to 
 gain the kingship of the world," said he. 
 
 But Segda, observing that the guest's countenance was 
 discomposed, broke in : 
 
 " It is not kind to refuse a thing that the Ard-Rf of 
 Ireland asks for, and I will go with him." 
 
 " Do not go, my pulse," his father advised. 
 
 " Do not go, my one treasure," his mother pleaded. 
 
238 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, vi 
 
 " I must go indeed," the boy replied, " for it is to do 
 good I am required, and no person may shirk such a require- 
 
 ment." 
 
 " Go then," said his father, " but I will place you under 
 the protection of the High King and of the Four Provincial 
 Kings of Ireland, and under the protection of Art, the son 
 of Conn, and of Fionn, the son of Uail, and under the 
 protection of the magicians and poets and the men of art 
 in Ireland." And he thereupon bound these protections 
 and safeguards on the Ard-Rf with an oath. 
 
 " I will answer for these protections," said Conn. 
 
 He departed then from the island with Segda and in 
 three days they reached Ireland, and in due time they 
 arrived at Tara. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 ON reaching the palace Conn called his magicians and poets 
 to a council and informed them that he had found the boy 
 they sought the son of a virgin. These learned people 
 consulted together, and they stated that the young man 
 must be killed, and that his blood should be mixed with 
 the earth of Tara and sprinkled under the withered trees. 
 
 When Segda heard this he was astonished and defiant ; 
 then, seeing that he was alone and without prospect of 
 succour, he grew downcast and was in great fear for his 
 life. But remembering the safeguards under which he had 
 been placed, he enumerated these to the assembly, and 
 called on the High King to grant him the protections that 
 were his due. 
 
 Conn was greatly perturbed, but, as in duty bound, 
 he placed the boy under the various protections that were 
 in his oath, and, with the courage of one who has no more 
 to gain or lose, he placed Segda, furthermore, under the 
 protection of all the men of Ireland. 
 
 But the men of Ireland refused to accept that bond, 
 saying that although the Ard-Rl was acting justly towards 
 the boy he was not acting justly towards Ireland. 
 
 " We do not wish to slay this prince for our pleasure," 
 they argued, " but for the safety of Ireland he must be 
 killed." 
 
 239 
 
240 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 Angry parties were formed. Art, and Fionn the son of 
 Uail, and the princes of the land were outraged at the idea 
 that one who had been placed under their protection should 
 be hurt by any hand. But the men of Ireland and the 
 magicians stated that the king had gone to Faery for a 
 special purpose, and that his acts outside or contrary to 
 that purpose were illegal, and committed no person to 
 obedience. 
 
 There were debates in the Council Hall, in the market- 
 place, in the streets of Tara, some holding that national 
 honour dissolved and absolved all personal honour, and 
 others protesting that no man had aught but his personal 
 honour, and that above it not the gods, not even Ireland, 
 could be placed for it is to be known that Ireland is a god. 
 
 Such a debate was in course, and Segda, to whom both 
 sides addressed gentle and courteous arguments, grew more 
 and more disconsolate. 
 
 " You shall die for Ireland, dear heart," said one of them, 
 and he gave Segda three kisses on each cheek. 
 
 " Indeed," said Segda, returning those kisses, " indeed 
 I had not bargained to die for Ireland, but only to bathe in 
 her waters and to remove her pestilence." 
 
 " But, dear child and prince," said another, kissing him 
 likewise, " if any one of us could save Ireland by dying for 
 her how cheerfully we would die." 
 
 And Segda, returning his three kisses, agreed that the 
 death was noble, but that it was not in his undertaking. 
 
 Then, observing the stricken countenances about him, 
 and the faces of men and women hewn thin by hunger, his 
 resolution melted away, and he said : 
 
 " I think I must die for you," and then he said : 
 
 " I will die for you." 
 
vii BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN 241 
 
 And when he had said that, all the people present 
 touched his cheek with their lips, and the love and peace of 
 Ireland entered into his soul, so that he was tranquil and 
 proud and happy. 
 
 The executioner drew his wide, thin blade and all 
 those present covered their eyes with their cloaks, when a 
 wailing voice called on the executioner to delay yet a 
 moment. The High King uncovered his eyes and saw 
 that a woman had approached driving a cow before her. 
 
 " Why are you killing the boy ? " she demanded. 
 
 The reason for this slaying was explained to her. 
 
 " Are you sure," she asked, " that the poets and 
 magicians really know everything ? >: 
 
 " Do they not ? " the king inquired. 
 
 " Do they ? " she insisted. 
 
 And then turning to the magicians : 
 
 " Let one magician of the magicians tell me what is 
 hidden in the bags that are lying across the back of my 
 
 cow.' 3 
 
 But no magician could tell it, nor did they try to. 
 
 " Questions are not answered thus," they said. " There 
 are formulae, and the calling up of spirits, and lengthy com- 
 plicated preparations in our art." 
 
 " I am not badly learned in these arts," said the woman, 
 " and I say that if you slay this cow the effect will be the 
 same as if you had killed the boy." 
 
 * We would prefer to kill a cow or a thousand cows 
 rather than harm this young prince," said Conn, " but if we 
 spare the boy will these evils return ? " 
 
 " They will not be banished until you have banished 
 their cause." 
 
 " And what is their cause ? " 
 
242 
 
 IRISH FAIRY STORIES 
 
 CHAP. VII 
 
 " Becuma is the cause, and she must be banished." 
 " If you must tell me what to do," said Conn, " tell 
 me at least to do something that I can do." 
 
 " I will tell you certainly. You can keep Becuma 
 and your ills as long as you want to. It does not matter 
 to me. Come, my son," she said to Segda, for it was 
 Segda's mother who had come to save him ; and then that 
 sinless queen and her son w^nt back to their home of 
 enchantment, leaving the king and Fionn and the magicians 
 and nobles of Ireland astonished and ashamed. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THERE are good and evil people in this and in every other 
 world, and the person who goes hence will go to the good 
 or the evil that is native to him, while those who return 
 come as surely to their due. The trouble which had fallen 
 on Becuma did not leave her repentant, and the sweet 
 lady began to do wrong as instantly and innocently as a 
 flower begins to grow. It was she who was responsible for 
 the ills which had come on Ireland, and we may wonder 
 why she brought these plagues and droughts to what was 
 now her own country. 
 
 Under all wrong - doing lies personal vanity or the 
 feeling that we are endowed and privileged beyond our 
 fellows. It is probable that, however courageously she had 
 accepted fate, Becuma had been sharply stricken in her 
 pride ; in the sense of personal strength, aloofness, and 
 identity, in which the mind likens itself to god and will 
 resist every domination but its own. She had been punished, 
 that is, she had submitted to control, and her sense of 
 freedom, of privilege, of very being, was outraged. The 
 mind flinches even from the control of natural law, and how 
 much more from the despotism of its own separated like- 
 nesses, for if another can control me that other has usurped 
 me, has become me, and how terribly I seem diminished 
 by the seeming addition ! 
 
 243 
 
244 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 This sense of separateness is vanity, and is the bed of all 
 wrong-doing. For we are not freedom, we are control, and 
 we must submit to our own function ere we can exercise it. 
 Even unconsciously we accept the rights of others to all that 
 we have, and if we will not share our good with them, it is 
 because we cannot, having none ; but we will yet give what 
 we have, although that be evil. To insist on other people 
 sharing in our personal torment is the first step towards 
 insisting that they shall share in our joy, as we shall insist 
 when we get it. 
 
 Becuma considered that if she must suffer all else 
 she met should suffer also. She raged, therefore, against 
 Ireland, and in particular she raged against young Art, 
 her husband's son, and she left undone nothing that could 
 afflict Ireland or the prince. She may have felt that she 
 could not make them suffer, and that is a maddening 
 thought to any woman. Or perhaps she had really 
 desired the son instead of the father, and her thwarted 
 desire had perpetuated itself as hate. But it is true that 
 Art regarded his mother's successor with intense dislike, 
 and it is true that she actively returned it. 
 
 One day Becuma came on the lawn before the palace, 
 and seeing that Art was at chess with Cromdes she walked 
 to the table on which the match was being played and for 
 some time regarded the game. But the young prince 
 did not take any notice of her while she stood by the 
 board, for he knew that this girl was the enemy of Ireland, 
 and he could not bring himself even to look at her. 
 
 Becuma, looking down on his beautiful head, smiled 
 as much in rage as in disdain. 
 
 " O son of a king," said she, " I demand a game with 
 you for stakes." 
 
viii BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN 245 
 
 Art then raised his head and stood up courteously, 
 but he did not look at her. 
 
 " Whatever the queen demands I will do," said he. 
 
 " Am I not your mother also," she replied mockingly, 
 as she took the seat which the chief magician leaped from. 
 
 The game was set then, and her play was so skilful 
 that Art was hard put to counter her moves. But at a 
 point of the game Becuma grew thoughtful, and, as by a 
 lapse of memory, she made a move which gave the victory 
 to her opponent. But she had intended that. She sat 
 then, biting on her lip with her white small teeth and 
 staring angrily at Art. 
 
 " What do you demand from me ? " she asked. 
 
 " I bind you to eat no food in Ireland until you find the 
 wand of Curoi, son of Dare." 
 
 Becuma then put a cloak about her and she went from 
 Tara northward and eastward until she came to the dewy, 
 sparkling Brugh of Angus mac an Og in Ulster, but she 
 was not admitted there. She went thence to the Shf 
 ruled over by Eogabal, and although this lord would not 
 admit her, his daughter Aine, who was her foster-sister, 
 let her into Faery. She made inquiries and was informed 
 where the dun of Curoi mac Dare was, and when she had 
 received this intelligence she set out for Sliev Mis. By 
 what arts she coaxed Curoi to give up his wand it matters 
 not, enough that she was able to return in triumph to 
 Tara. When she handed the wand to Art, she said : 
 
 " I claim my game of revenge." 
 
 " It is due to you," said Art, and they sat on the lawn 
 before the palace and played. 
 
 A hard game that was, and at times each of the com- 
 batants sat for an hour staring on the board before the next 
 
246 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, vm 
 
 move was made, and at times they looked from the board 
 and for hours stared on the sky seeking as though in heaven 
 for advice. But Becuma's foster-sister, Ain, came from 
 the Shf, and, unseen by any, she interfered with Art's 
 play, so that, suddenly, when he looked again on the board, 
 his face went pale, for he saw that the game was lost. 
 
 " I didn't move that piece," said he sternly. 
 
 " Nor did I," Becuma replied, and she called on the 
 onlookers to confirm that statement. 
 
 She was smiling to herself secretly, for she had seen 
 what the mortal eyes around could not see. 
 
 " I think the game is mine," she insisted softly. 
 
 " I think that your friends in Faery have cheated," 
 he replied, " but the game is yours if you are content to 
 win it that way." 
 
 " I bind you," said Becuma, " to eat no food in Ireland 
 until you have found Delvcaem, the daughter of Morgan." 
 
 " Where doj look for her," said Art in despair. 
 
 " She is in one of the islands of the sea," Becuma 
 replied, " that is all I will tell you," and she looked at him 
 maliciously, joyously, contentedly, for she thought he would 
 never return from that journey, and that Morgan would 
 see to it. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 ART, as his father had done before him, set out for the Many- 
 Coloured Land, but it was from Inver Colpa he embarked 
 and not from Ben Edair. 
 
 At a certain time he passed from the rough green ridges 
 of the sea to enchanted waters, and he roamed from island 
 to island asking all people how he might come to Delvcaem, 
 the daughter of Morgan. But he got no news from any one, 
 until he reached an island that was fragrant with wild apples, 
 gay with flowers, and joyous with the song of birds and the 
 deep mellow drumming of the bees. In this island he 
 was met by a lady, Cred, the Truly Beautiful, and when 
 they had exchanged kisses, he told her who he was and 
 on what errand he was bent. 
 
 " We have been expecting you," said Crede, " but alas, 
 poor soul, it is a hard, and a long, bad way that you must 
 go ; for there is sea and land, danger and difficulty between 
 you and the daughter of Morgan." 
 
 " Yet I must go there," he answered. 
 
 "There is a wild dark ocean to be crossed. There is 
 a dense wood where every thorn on every tree is sharp as a 
 spear-point and is curved and clutching. There is a deep 
 gulf to be gone through," she said, " a place of silence and 
 terror, full of dumb, venomous monsters. There is an 
 
 247 
 
248 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 immense oak forest dark, dense, thorny, a place to be 
 strayed in, a place to be utterly bewildered and lost in. 
 There is a vast dark wilderness, and therein is a dark house, 
 lonely and full of echoes, and in it there are seven gloomy 
 hags, who are warned already of your coming and are 
 waiting to plunge you in a bath of molten lead." 
 
 " It is not a choice journey," said Art, " but I have no 
 choice and must go." 
 
 " Should you pass those hags," she continued, " and 
 no one has yet passed them, you must meet Ailill of the 
 Black Teeth, the son of Mongan Tender Blossom, and who 
 could pass that gigantic and terrible fighter." 
 
 " It is not easy to find the daughter of Morgan," said 
 Art in a melancholy voice. 
 
 " It is not easy," Crede replied eagerly, " and if you 
 will take my advice " 
 
 " Advise me," he broke in, " for in truth there is no 
 man standing in such need of counsel as I do." 
 
 :< I would advise you," said Crede in a low voice, " to 
 seek no more for the sweet daughter of Morgan, but to 
 stay in this place where all that is lovely is at your service." 
 
 " But, but " cried Art in astonishment. 
 
 " Am I not as sweet as the daughter of Morgan ? " she 
 demanded, and she stood before him queenly and pleadingly, 
 and her eyes took his with imperious tenderness. 
 
 " By my hand," he answered, " you are sweeter and 
 lovelier than any being under the sun, but " 
 
 " And with me," she said, " you will forget Ireland." 
 
 " I am under bonds," cried Art, " I have passed my 
 word, and I would not forget Ireland or cut myself from it 
 for all the kingdoms of the Many-Coloured Land." 
 
 Crede urged no more at that time, but as they were 
 
ix BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN 249 
 
 parting she whispered, ' There are two girls, sisters of 
 my own, in Morgan's palace. They will come to you with 
 a cup in either hand ; one cup will be filled with wine and 
 one with poison. Drink from the right-hand cup, O my 
 dear." 
 
 Art stepped into his coracle, and then, wringing her 
 hands, she made yet an attempt to dissuade him from that 
 drear journey. 
 
 " Do not leave me," she urged. " Do not affront 
 these dangers. Around the palace of Morgan there is a 
 palisade of copper spikes, and on the top of each spike the 
 head of a man grins and shrivels. There is one spike 
 only which bears no head, and it is for your head that spike 
 is waiting. Do not go there, my love." 
 
 " I must go indeed," said Art earnestly. 
 
 " There is yet a danger," she called. " Beware of 
 Delvcaem's mother, Dog Head, daughter of the King of 
 the Dog Heads. Beware of her." 
 
 " Indeed," said Art to himself, " there is so much to 
 beware of that I will beware of nothing. I will go about 
 my business," he said to the waves, " and I will let those 
 beings and monsters and the people of the Dog Heads go 
 about their business." 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 HE went forward in his light bark, and at some moment 
 found that he had parted from those seas and was adrift on 
 vaster and more turbulent billows. From those dark-green 
 surges there gaped at him monstrous and cavernous jaws ; 
 and round, wicked, red-rimmed, bulging eyes stared fixedly 
 at the boat. A ridge of inky water rushed foaming moun- 
 tainously on his board, and behind that ridge came a vast 
 warty head that gurgled and groaned. But at these vile 
 creatures he thrust with his lengthy spear or stabbed at 
 closer reach with a dagger. 
 
 He was not spared one of the terrors which had been 
 foretold. Thus, in the dark thick oak forest he slew the 
 seven hags and buried them in the molten lead which they 
 had heated for him. He climbed an icy mountain, the cold 
 breath of which seemed to slip into his body and chip off 
 inside of his bones, and there, until he mastered the sort of 
 climbing on ice, for each step that he took upwards he 
 slipped back ten steps. Almost his heart gave way before 
 he learned to climb that venomous hill. In a forked glen 
 into which he slipped at nightfall he was surrounded by 
 giant toads, who spat poison, and were icy as the land they 
 lived in, and were cold and foul and savage. At Sliav 
 
 250 
 
CH.X BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN 251 
 
 Saev he encountered the long-maned lions who lie in wait 
 for the beasts of the world, growling woefully as they squat 
 above their prey and crunch those terrified bones. He 
 came on Ailill of the Black Teeth sitting on the bridge 
 that spanned a torrent, and the grim giant was grinding 
 his teeth on a pillar stone. Art drew nigh unobserved and 
 brought him low. 
 
 It was not for nothing that these difficulties and dangers 
 were in his path. These things and creatures were the 
 invention of Dog Head, the wife of Morgan, for it had 
 become known to her that she would die on the day 
 her daughter was wooed. Therefore none of the dangers 
 encountered by Art were real, but were magical chimeras 
 conjured against him by the great witch. 
 
 Affronting all, conquering all, he came in time to 
 Morgan's dun, a place so lovely that after the miseries 
 through which he had struggled he almost wept to see 
 beauty again. 
 
 Delvcaem knew that he was coming. She was waiting 
 for him, yearning for him. To her mind Art was not only 
 love, he was freedom, for the poor girl was a captive in 
 her father's home. A great pillar an hundred feet high 
 had been built on the roof of Morgan's palace, and on the 
 top of this pillar a tiny room had been constructed, and in 
 this room Delvcaem was a prisoner. 
 
 She was lovelier in shape than any other princess of 
 the Many - Coloured Land. She was wiser than all the 
 other women of that land, and she was skilful in music, 
 embroidery, and chastity, and in all else that pertained to 
 the knowledge of a queen. 
 
 Although Delvcaem's mother wished nothing but ill to 
 Art, she yet treated him with the courtesy proper in a 
 
252 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 queen on the one hand and fitting towards the son of 
 the King of Ireland on the other. Therefore, when Art 
 entered the palace he was met and kissed, and he was bathed 
 and clothed and fed. Two young girls came to him then, 
 having a cup in each of their hands, and presented him with 
 the kingly drink, but, remembering the warning which 
 Crede had given him, he drank only from the right-hand 
 cup and escaped the poison. 
 
 Next he was visited by Delvcaem's mother, Dog Head, 
 daughter of the King of the Dog Heads, and Morgan's 
 queen. She was dressed in full armour, and she challenged 
 Art to fight with her. 
 
 It was a woeful combat, for there was no craft or 
 sagacity unknown to her, and Art would infallibly have 
 perished by her hand but that her days were numbered, 
 her star was out, and her time had come. It was her head 
 that rolled on the ground when the combat was over, and 
 it was her head that grinned and shrivelled on the vacant 
 spike which she had reserved for Art's. 
 
 Then Art liberated Delvcaem from her prison at the 
 top of the pillar and they were affianced together. But the 
 ceremony had scarcely been completed when the tread of 
 a single man caused the palace to quake and seemed to jar 
 the world. 
 
 It was Morgan returning to the palace. 
 
 The gloomy king challenged him to combat also, and 
 in his honour Art put on the battle harness which he had 
 brought from Ireland. He wore a breastplate and helmet 
 of gold, a mantle of blue satin swung from his shoulders, 
 his left hand was thrust into the grips of a purple shield, 
 deeply bossed with silver, and in the other hand he held 
 the wide - grooved, blue -hiked sword which had rung 
 
x BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN 253 
 
 so often into fights and combats, and joyous feats and 
 exercises. 
 
 Up to this time the trials through which he had passed 
 had seemed so great that they could not easily be added to. 
 But if all those trials had been gathered into one vast 
 calamity they would not equal one half of the rage and 
 catastrophe of his war with Morgan. 
 
 For what he could not effect by arms Morgan would 
 endeavour by guile, so that while Art drove at him or 
 parried a crafty blow, the shape of Morgan changed before 
 his eyes, and the monstrous king was having at him in 
 another form, and from a new direction. 
 
 It was well for the son of the Ard-Ri that he had been 
 beloved by the poets and magicians of his land, and that 
 they had taught him all that was known of shape-changing 
 and words of power. 
 
 He had need of all these. 
 
 At times, for the weapon must change with the enemy, 
 they fought with their foreheads as two giant stags, and the 
 crash of their monstrous onslaught rolled and lingered on 
 the air long after their skulls had parted. Then as two 
 lions, long - clawed, deep - mouthed, snarling, with rigid 
 mane, with red -eyed glare, with flashing, sharp -white 
 fangs, they prowled lithely about each other seeking for 
 an opening. And then as two green-ridged, white-topped, 
 broad-swung, overwhelming, vehement billows of the deep, 
 they met and crashed and sank into and rolled away from 
 each other ; and the noise of these two waves was as the 
 roar of all ocean when the howl of the tempest is drowned 
 in the league-long fury of the surge. 
 
 But when the wife's time has come the husband is 
 doomed. He is required elsewhere by his beloved, and 
 
254 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 Morgan went to rejoin his queen in the world that comes 
 after the Many-Coloured Land, and his victor shore that 
 knowledgeable head away from its giant shoulders. 
 
 He did not tarry in the Many-Coloured Land, for he 
 had nothing further to seek there. He gathered the things 
 which pleased him best from among the treasures of its 
 grisly king, and with Delvcaem by his side they stepped 
 into the coracle. 
 
 Then, setting their minds on Ireland, they went there 
 as it were in a flash. 
 
 The waves of all the worlds seemed to whirl past them in 
 one huge green cataract. The sound of all these oceans 
 boomed in their ears for one eternal instant. Nothing was 
 for that moment but a vast roar and pour of waters. Thence 
 they swung into a silence equally vast, and so sudden that 
 it was as thunderous in the comparison as was the elemental 
 rage they quitted. For a time they sat panting, staring at 
 each other, holding each other, lest not only their lives but 
 their very souls should be swirled away in the gusty passage 
 of world within world ; and then, looking abroad, they saw 
 the small bright waves creaming by the rocks of Ben Edair, 
 and they blessed the power that had guided and protected 
 them, and they blessed the comely land of Ir. 
 
 On reaching Tara, Delvcaem, who was more powerful 
 in art and magic than Becuma, ordered the latter to go 
 away, and she did so. 
 
 She left the king's side. She came from the midst of 
 the counsellors and magicians. She did not bid farewell 
 to any one. She did not say good-bye to the king as she 
 set out for Ben Edair. 
 
 Where she could go to no man knew, for she had been 
 banished from the Many-Coloured Land and could not return 
 
The waves of all the worlds seemed to whirl past them in one huge 
 green cataract. 
 
 To face page 254. 
 
x BECUMA OF THE WHITE SKIN 255 
 
 there. She was forbidden entry to the Shi by Angus Og, 
 and she could not remain in Ireland. She went to Sasana 
 and she became a queen in that country, and it was she who 
 fostered the rage against the Holy Land which has not 
 ceased to this day. 
 
MONGAN'S FRENZY 
 
 25? 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 THE abbot of the Monastery of Moville sent word to the 
 story-tellers of Ireland that when they were in his neighbour- 
 hood they should call at the monastery, for he wished to 
 collect and write down the stories which were in danger of 
 being forgotten. 
 
 * These things also must be told/' said he. 
 
 In particular he wished to gather tales which told of 
 the deeds that had been done before the Gospel came to 
 Ireland. 
 
 " For," said he, " there are very good tales among those 
 ones, and it would be a pity if the people who come after us 
 should be ignorant of what happened long ago, and of the 
 deeds of their fathers." 
 
 So, whenever a story-teller chanced in that neighbour- 
 hood he was directed to the monastery, and there he received 
 a welcome and his fill of all that is good for man. 
 
 The abbot's manuscript boxes began to fill up, and he 
 used to regard that growing store with pride and joy. In the 
 evenings, when the days grew short and the light went early, 
 he would call for some one of these manuscripts and have it 
 read to him by candle-light, in order that he might satisfy 
 himself that it was as good as he had judged it to be on the 
 previous hearing. 
 
 259 
 
a6o IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, i 
 
 One day a story-teller came to the monastery, and, like 
 all the others, he was heartily welcomed and given a great 
 deal more than his need. 
 
 He said that his name was Cairid, and that he had a story 
 to tell which could not be bettered among the stories of Ireland. 
 
 The abbot's eyes glistened when he heard that. He 
 rubbed his hands together and smiled on his guest. 
 
 " What is the name of your story ? " he asked. 
 
 " It is called ' Mongan's Frenzy.' " 
 
 " I never heard of it before," cried the abbot joyfully. 
 
 " I am the only man that knows it," Cairide replied. 
 
 " But how does that come about ? " the abbot inquired. 
 
 " Because it belongs to my family," the story-teller 
 answered. " There was a Cairide of my nation with Mon- 
 gan when he went into Faery. This Cairid& listened to the 
 story when it was first told. Then he told it to his son, and 
 his son told it to his son, and that son's great-great-grandson's 
 son told it to his son's son, and he told it to my father, and my 
 father told it to me." 
 
 " And you shall tell it to me," cried the abbot triumph- 
 antly. 
 
 " I will indeed," said Cairid. 
 
 Vellum was then brought and quills. The copyists sat 
 at their tables. Ale was placed beside the story-teller, and he 
 told this tale to the abbot. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 4 
 
 SAID Cairide : 
 
 Mongan's wife at that time was Br6tiarna, the Flame 
 Lady. She was passionate and fierce, and because the blood 
 would flood suddenly to her cheek, so that she who had 
 seemed a lily became, while you looked upon her, a rose, 
 she was called Flame Lady. She loved Mongan with 
 ecstasy and abandon, and for that also he called her Flame 
 Lady. 
 
 But there may have been something of calculation even 
 in her wildest moment, for if she was delighted in her affec- 
 tion she was tormented in it also, as are all those who love 
 the great ones of life and strive to equal themselves where 
 equality is not possible. 
 
 For her husband was at once more than himself and less 
 than himself. He was less than himself because he was now 
 Mongan. He was more than himself because he was one 
 who had long disappeared from the world of men. His 
 
 261 
 
262 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 lament had been sung and his funeral games played many, 
 many years before, and Br6tiarna sensed in him secrets, 
 experiences, knowledges in which she could have no part, 
 and for which she was greedily envious. 
 
 So she was continually asking him little, simple questions 
 a propos of every kind of thing. 
 
 She weighed all that he said on whatever subject, and 
 when he talked in his sleep she listened to his dream. 
 
 The knowledge that she gleaned from those listeniijgs 
 tormented her far more than it satisfied her, for the names 
 of other women were continually on his lips, sometimes 
 in terms of dear affection, sometimes in accents of anger or 
 despair, and in his sleep he spoke familiarly of people whom 
 the story-tellers told of, but who had been dead for centuries. 
 Therefore she was perplexed, and became filled with a very 
 rage of curiosity. 
 
 Among the names which her husband mentioned there 
 was one which, because of the frequency with which it 
 appeared, and because of the tone of anguish and love and 
 longing in which it was uttered, she thought of oftener 
 than the others : this name was Duv Laca. Although she 
 questioned and cross-questioned Cairid, her story-teller, she 
 could discover nothing about a lady who had been known 
 as the Black Duck. But one night when Mongan seemed 
 to speak with Duv Laca he mentioned her father as Fiachna 
 Duv mac Demain, and the story-teller said that king had 
 been dead for a vast number of years. 
 
 She asked her husband then, boldly, to tell her the story 
 of Duv Laca, and under the influence of their mutual love 
 he promised to tell it to her some time, but each time she 
 reminded him of his promise he became confused, and said 
 that he would tell it some other time. 
 
ii MONGAN'S FRENZY 263 
 
 As time went on the poor Flame Lady grew more and 
 more jealous of Duv Laca, and more and more certain that, 
 if only she could know what had happened, she would get 
 some ease to her tormented heart and some assuagement 
 of her perfectly natural curiosity. Therefore she lost no 
 opportunity of reminding Mongan of his promise, and on 
 each occasion he renewed the promise and put it back to 
 another time. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 IN the year when Ciaran the son of the Carpenter died, the 
 same year when Tuathal Maelgariv was killed and the year 
 when Diarmait the son of Cerrbel became King of all Ireland, 
 the year 538 of our era in short, it happened that there was 
 a great gathering of the men of Ireland at the Hill of 
 Uisneach in Royal Meath. 
 
 In addition to the Council which was being held, there 
 were games and tournaments and brilliant deployments of 
 troops, and universal feastings and enjoyments. The gather- 
 ing lasted for a week, and on the last day of the week 
 Mongan was moving through the crowd with seven guards, 
 his story-teller Cairidfe, and his wife. 
 
 It had been a beautiful day, with brilliant sunshine and 
 great sport, but suddenly clouds began to gather in the sky 
 to the west, and others came rushing blackly from the east. 
 When these clouds met the world went dark for a space, and 
 there fell from the sky a shower of hailstones, so large that 
 each man wondered at their size, and so swift and heavy that 
 the women and young people of the host screamed from the 
 pain of the blows they received. 
 
 Mongan's men made a roof of their shields, and the hail- 
 stones battered on the shields so terribly that even under 
 them they were afraid. They began to move away from 
 
 264 
 
CHAP, in MONGAN'S FRENZY 265 
 
 the host looking for shelter, and when they had gone apart 
 a little way they turned the edge of a small hill and a knoll 
 of trees, and in the twinkling of an eye they were in fair 
 weather. 
 
 One minute they heard the clashing and bashing of the 
 hailstones, the howling of the venomous wind, the screams of 
 women and the uproar of the crowd on the Hill of Uisnach, 
 and the next minute they heard nothing more of those 
 sounds and saw nothing more of these sights, for they had 
 been permitted to go at one step out of the world of men 
 and into the world of Faery. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 THERE is a difference between this world and the world of 
 Faery, but it is not immediately perceptible. Everything 
 that is here is there, but the things that are there are better 
 than those that are here. All things that are bright are there 
 brighter. There is more gold in the sun and more silver in 
 the moon of that land. There is more scent in the flowers, 
 more savour in the fruit. There is more comeliness in the 
 men and more tenderness in the women. Everything in 
 Faery is better by this one wonderful degree, and it is by this 
 betterness you will know that you are there if you should 
 ever happen to get there. 
 
 Mongan and his companions stepped from the world of 
 storm into sunshine and a scented world. The instant they 
 stepped they stood, bewildered, looking at each other silently, 
 questioningly, and then with one accord they turned to look 
 back whence they had come. 
 
 There was no storm behind them. The sunlight drowsed 
 there as it did in front, a peaceful flooding of living gold. 
 They saw the shapes of the country to which their eyes 
 were accustomed, and recognised the well-known landmarks, 
 but it seemed that the distant hills were a trifle higher, and 
 the grass which clothed them and stretched between was 
 greener, was more velvety : that the trees were better clothed 
 
 266 
 
CHAP, iv MONGAN'S FRENZY 267 
 
 and had more of peace as they hung over the quiet 
 ground. 
 
 But Mongan knew what had happened, and he smiled 
 with glee as he watched his astonished companions, and he 
 sniffed that balmy air as one whose nostrils remembered it. 
 
 ' You had better come with me," he said. 
 
 " Where are we ? " his wife asked. 
 
 %< Why, we are here," cried Mongan ; " where else should 
 we be ? " 
 
 He set off then, and the others followed, staring about 
 them cautiously, and each man keeping a hand on the hilt 
 of his sword. 
 
 E< Are we in Faery ? " the Flame Lady asked. 
 
 " We are," said Mongan. 
 
 When they had gone a little distance they came to a 
 grove of ancient trees. Mightily tall and well-grown these 
 trees were, and the trunk of each could not have been spanned 
 by ten broad men. As they went among these quiet giants 
 into the dappled obscurity and silence, their thoughts became 
 grave and all the motions of their minds elevated, as though 
 they must equal in greatness and dignity those ancient and 
 glorious trees. When they passed through the grove they 
 saw a lovely house before them, built of mellow wood and 
 with a roof of bronze it was like the dwelling of a king, and 
 over the windows of the Sunny Room there was a balcony. 
 There were ladies on this balcony, and when they saw the 
 travellers approaching they sent messengers to welcome 
 them. 
 
 Mongan and his companions were then brought into the 
 house, and all was done for them that could be done for 
 honoured guests. Everything within the house was as 
 excellent as all without, and it was inhabited by seven men 
 
268 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, iv 
 
 and seven women, and it was evident that Mongan and these 
 people were well acquainted. 
 
 In the evening a feast was prepared, and when they 
 had eaten well there was a banquet. There were seven vats 
 of wine, and as Mongan loved wine he was very happy, 
 and he drank more on that occasion than any one had ever 
 noticed him to drink before. 
 
 It was while he was in this condition of glee and expansion 
 that the Flame Lady put her arms about his neck and begged 
 he would tell her the story of Duv Laca, and, being boisterous 
 then and full of good spirits, he agreed to her request, and 
 he prepared to tell the tale. 
 
 The seven men and seven women of the Fairy Palace 
 then took their places about him in a half-circle ; his own 
 seven guards sat behind them ; his wife, the Flame Lady, sat 
 by his side ; and at the back of all Cairid his story-teller 
 sat, listening with all his ears, and remembering every word 
 that was uttered. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 SAID Mongan : 
 
 In the days of long ago and the times that have dis- 
 appeared for ever, there was one Fiachna Finn the son of 
 Baltan, the son of Murchertach, the son of Muredach, the 
 son of Eogan, the son of Neill. He went from his own 
 country when he was young, for he wished to see the land 
 of Lochlann, and he knew that he would be welcomed by 
 the king of that country, for Fiachna's father and Eolgarg's 
 father had done deeds in common and were obliged to each 
 other. 
 
 He was welcomed, and he stayed at the Court of Lochlann 
 in great ease and in the midst of pleasures. 
 
 It then happened that Eolgarg Mor fell sick and the 
 doctors could not cure him. They sent for other doctors, 
 but they could not cure him, nor could any one say what 
 he was suffering from, beyond that he was wasting visibly 
 before their eyes, and would certainly become a shadow and 
 disappear in air unless he was healed and fattened and made 
 visible. 
 
 They sent for more distant doctors, and then for others 
 more distant still, and at last they found a man who claimed 
 that he could make a cure if the king were supplied with 
 the medicine which he would order. 
 
 269 
 
270 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP, v 
 
 " What medicine is that ? " said they all. 
 
 " This is the medicine," said the doctor. " Find a 
 perfectly white cow with red ears, and boil it down in the 
 lump, and if the king drinks that rendering he will recover." 
 
 Before he had well said it messengers were going from 
 the palace in all directions looking for such a cow. They 
 found lots of cows which were nearly like what they wanted, 
 but it was only by chance they came on the cow which would 
 do the work, and that beast belonged to the most notorious 
 and malicious and cantankerous female in Lochlann, the 
 Black Hag. Now the Black Hag was not only those things 
 that have been said ; she was also whiskered and warty and 
 one-eyed and obstreperous, and she was notorious and ill- 
 favoured in many other ways also. 
 
 They offered her a cow in the place of her own cow, 
 but she refused to give it. Then they offered a cow for 
 each leg of her cow, but she would not accept that offer 
 unless Fiachna went bail for the payment. He agreed to 
 do so, and they drove the beast away. 
 
 On the return journey he was met by messengers who 
 brought news from Ireland. They said that the King of 
 Ulster was dead, and that he, Fiachna Finn, had been elected 
 king in the dead king's place. He at once took ship for 
 Ireland, and found that all he had been told was true, and 
 he took up the government of Ulster. 
 
They offered a cow for each leg of her cow, but she would not accept that offer 
 unless Fiachna went bail for the payment. 
 
 Toj-ace page 270. 
 

CHAPTER VI 
 
 A YEAR passed, and one day as he was sitting at judgement 
 there came a great noise from without, and this noise was 
 so persistent that the people and suitors were scandalised, 
 and Fiachna at last ordered that the noisy person should be 
 brought before him to be judged. 
 
 It was done, and to his surprise the person turned out 
 to be the Black Hag. 
 
 She blamed him in the court before his people, and 
 complained that he had taken away her cow, and that she 
 had not been paid the four cows he had gone bail for, and 
 she demanded judgement from him and justice. 
 
 " If you will consider it to be justice, I will give you 
 twenty cows myself," said Fiachna. 
 
 " I would not take all the cows in Ulster," she screamed. 
 
 " Pronounce judgement yourself," said the king, " and 
 if I can do what you demand I will do it." For he did not 
 like to be in the wrong, and he did not wish that any person 
 should have an unsatisfied claim upon him. 
 
 The Black Hag then pronounced judgement, and the 
 king had to fulfil it. 
 
 " I have come," said she, " from the east to the west ; 
 you must come from the west to the east and make war for 
 me, and revenge me on the King of Lochlann." 
 
 271 
 
272 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 Fiachna had to do as she demanded, and, although it 
 was with a heavy heart, he set out in three days' time for 
 Lochlann, and he brought with him ten battalions. 
 
 He sent messengers before him to Big Eolgarg warning 
 him of his coming, of his intention, and of the number of 
 troops he was bringing ; and when he landed Eolgarg met 
 him with an equal force, and they fought together. 
 
 In the first battle three hundred of the men of Lochlann 
 were killed, but in the next battle Eolgarg Mor did not 
 fight fair, for he let some venomous sheep out of a tent, and 
 these attacked the men of Ulster and killed nine hundred 
 of them. 
 
 So vast was the slaughter made by these sheep and so 
 great the terror they caused, that no one could stand before 
 them, but by great good luck there was a wood at hand, and 
 the men of Ulster, warriors and princes and charioteers, were 
 forced to climb up the trees, and they roosted among the 
 branches like great birds, while the venomous sheep ranged 
 below bleating terribly and tearing up the ground. 
 
 Fiachna Finn was also sitting in a tree, very high up, 
 and he was disconsolate. 
 
 " We are disgraced ! " said he. 
 
 " It is very lucky," said the man in the branch below, 
 " that a sheep cannot climb a tree." 
 
 " We are disgraced for ever ! " said the King of Ulster. 
 
 " If those sheep learn how to climb, we are undone 
 surely," said the man below. 
 
 " I will go down and fight the sheep," said Fiachna. 
 
 But the others would not let the king go. 
 
 " It is not right," they said, " that you should fight 
 sheep." 
 
 " Some one must fight them," said Fiachna Finn, " but 
 
vi MONGAN'S FRENZY 273 
 
 no more of my men shall die until I fight myself ; for if I am 
 fated to die, I will die and I cannot escape it, and if it is the 
 sheep's fate to die, then die they will ; for there is no man 
 can avoid destiny, and there is no sheep can dodge it either." 
 
 " Praise be to god ! " said the warrior that was higher 
 up. 
 
 " Amen ! " said the man who was higher than he, and the 
 rest of the warriors wished good luck to the king. 
 
 He started then to climb down the tree with a heavy 
 heart, but while he hung from the last branch and was about 
 to let go, he noticed a tall warrior walking towards him. 
 The king pulled himself up on the branch again and sat 
 dangle-legged on it to see what the warrior would do. 
 
 The stranger was a very tall man, dressed in a green cloak 
 with a silver brooch at the shoulder. He had a golden band 
 about his hair and golden sandals on his feet, and he was 
 laughing heartily at the plight of the men of Ireland. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 " IT is not nice of you to laugh at us/' said Fiachna Finn. 
 
 " Who could help laughing at a king hunkering on a 
 branch and his army roosting around him like hens ? " said 
 the stranger. 
 
 " Nevertheless/' the king replied, " it would be courteous 
 of you not to laugh at misfortune." 
 
 " We laugh when we can," commented the stranger, 
 " and are thankful for the chance." 
 
 " You may come up into the tree," said Fiachna, " for 
 I perceive that you are a mannerly person, and I see that 
 some of the venomous sheep are charging in this direction, 
 I would rather protect you," he continued, " than see you 
 killed ; for," said he lamentably, " I am getting down now 
 to fight the sheep." 
 
 " They will not hurt me," said the stranger. 
 
 " Who are you ? " the king asked. 
 
 " I am Mananndn, the son of Lir." 
 
 Fiachna knew then that the stranger could not be hurt. 
 
 274 
 
CHAP, vii MONGAN'S FRENZY 275 
 
 "What will you give me if I deliver you from the 
 sheep ? " asked Mananndn. 
 
 " I will give you anything you ask, if I have that thing." 
 
 " I ask the rights of your crown and of your household 
 for one day." 
 
 Fiachna's breath was taken away by that request, and 
 he took a little time to compose himself, then he said mildly : 
 
 " I will not have one man of Ireland killed if I can save 
 him. All that I have they give me, all that I have I give 
 to them, and if I must give this also, then I will give this, 
 although it would be easier for me to give my life." 
 
 " That is agreed," said Mananndn. 
 
 He had something wrapped in a fold of his cloak, and he 
 unwrapped and produced this thing. 
 
 It was a dog. 
 
 Now if the sheep were venomous, this dog was more 
 venomous still, for it was fearful to look at. In body it was 
 not large, but its head was of a great size, and the mouth 
 that was shaped in that head was able to open like the lid 
 of a pot. It was not teeth which were in that head, but 
 hooks and fangs and prongs. Dreadful was that mouth to 
 look at, terrible to look into, woeful to think about ; and 
 from it, or from the broad, loose nose that waggled above it, 
 there came a sound which no word of man could describe, 
 for it was not a snarl, nor was it a howl, although it was both 
 of these. It was neither a growl nor a grunt, although it 
 was both of these ; it was not a yowl nor a groan, although 
 it was both of these : for it was one sound made up of these 
 sounds, and there was in it, too, a whine and a yelp, and a 
 long-drawn snoring noise, and a deep purring noise, and a 
 noise that was like the squeal of a rusty hinge, and there 
 were other noises in it also. 
 
276 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 " The gods be praised ! " said the man who was in the 
 branch above the king. 
 
 " What for this time ? " said the king. 
 
 " Because that dog cannot climb a tree/' said the man. 
 
 And the man on a branch yet above him groaned out, 
 " Amen ! " 
 
 " There is nothing to frighten sheep like a dog," said 
 Manannan, " and there is nothing to frighten these sheep 
 like this dog." 
 
 He put the dog on the ground then. 
 
 " Little dogeen, little treasure," said he, " go and kill 
 the sheep." 
 
 And when he said that the dog put an addition and an 
 addendum on to the noise he had been making before, so 
 that the men of Ireland stuck their fingers into their ears and 
 turned the whites of their eyes upwards, and nearly fell off 
 their branches with the fear and the fright which that sound 
 put into them. 
 
 It did not take the dog long to do what he had been 
 ordered. He went forward, at first, with a slow waddle, 
 and as the venomous sheep came to meet him in bounces, 
 he then went to meet them in wriggles ; so that in a while 
 he went so fast that you could see nothing of him but a head 
 and a wriggle. He dealt with the sheep in this way, a jump 
 and a chop for each, and he never missed his jump and he 
 never missed his chop. When he got his grip he swung 
 round on it as if it was a hinge. The swing began with the 
 chop, and it ended with the bit loose and the sheep giving 
 its last kick. At the end of ten minutes all the sheep were 
 lying on the ground, and the same bit was out of every sheep, 
 and every sheep was dead. 
 
 " You can come down now," said Mananndn. 
 
vii MONGAN'S FRENZY 277 
 
 " That dog can't climb a tree," said the man in the 
 branch above the king warningly. 
 
 <c Praise be to the gods ! " said the man who was above 
 him. 
 
 " Amen ! " said the warrior who was higher up than 
 that 
 
 And the man in the next tree said : 
 
 " Don't move a hand or a foot until the dog chokes 
 himself to death on the dead meat." 
 
 The dog, however, did not eat a bit of the meat He 
 trotted to his master, and Manannan took him up and 
 wrapped him in his cloak. 
 
 " Now you can come down," said he. 
 
 " I wish that dog was dead ! " said the king. 
 
 But he swung himself out of the tree all the same, for 
 he did not wish to seem frightened before Mananndn. 
 
 ' You can go now and beat the men of Lochlann," said 
 Manannan. "You will be King of Lochlann before night- 
 fall." 
 
 " I wouldn't mind that," said the king. 
 
 " It's no threat," said Manannan. 
 
 The son of Lir turned then and went away in the direc- 
 tion of Ireland to take up his one-day rights, and Fiachna 
 continued his battle with the Lochlannachs. 
 
 He beat them before nightfall, and by that victory he 
 became King of Lochlann and King of the Saxons and the 
 Britons. 
 
 He gave the Black Hag seven castles with their terri- 
 tories, and he gave her one hundred of every sort of cattle 
 that he had captured. She was satisfied. 
 
 Then he went back to Ireland, and after he had been 
 there for some time his wife gave birth to a son. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 " You have not told me one word about Duv Laca," said 
 the Flame Lady reproachfully. 
 
 " I am coming to that," replied Mongan. 
 
 He motioned towards one of the great vats, and wine 
 was brought to him, of which he drank so joyously and so 
 deeply that all people wondered at his thirst, his capacity, 
 and his jovial spirits. 
 
 " Now, I will begin again." 
 
 Said Mongan : 
 
 There was an attendant in Fiachna Finn's palace who 
 was called An Ddv, and the same night that Fiachna's wife 
 bore a son, the wife of An Ddv gave birth to a son also. 
 This latter child was called mac an Dav, but the son of 
 Fiachna's wife was named Mongan. 
 
 " Ah ! " murmured the Flame Lady. 
 
 The queen was angry. She said it was unjust and pre- 
 sumptuous that the servant should get a child at the same 
 time that she got one herself, but there was no help for it, 
 because the child was there and could not be obliterated. 
 
 Now this also must be told. 
 
 There was a neighbouring prince called Fiachna Duv, 
 and he was the ruler of the Dal Fiatach. For a long time 
 
 278 
 
CHAP, viii MONGAN'S FRENZY 279 
 
 he had been at enmity and spiteful warfare with Fiachna 
 Finn ; and to this Fiachna Duv there was born in the same 
 night a daughter, and this girl was named Duv Laca of 
 the White Hand. 
 
 " Ah ! " cried the Flame Lady. 
 
 " You see ! " said Mongan, and he drank anew and 
 joyously of the fairy wine. 
 
 In order to end the trouble between Fiachna Finn and 
 Fiachna Duv the babies were affianced to each other in the 
 cradle on the day after they were born, and the men of 
 Ireland rejoiced at that deed and at that news. But soon 
 there came dismay and sorrow in the land, for when the little 
 Mongan was three days old his real father, Manannan the 
 son of Lir, appeared in the middle of the palace. He 
 wrapped Mongan in his green cloak and took him away 
 to rear and train in the Land of Promise, which is beyond 
 the sea that is at the other side of the grave. 
 
 When Fiachna Duv heard that Mongan, who was 
 affianced to his daughter Duv Laca, had disappeared, he 
 considered that his compact of peace was at an end, and 
 one day he came by surprise and attacked the palace. He 
 killed Fiachna Finn in that battle, and he crowned himself 
 King of Ulster. 
 
 The men of Ulster disliked him, and they petitioned 
 Manannan to bring Mongan back, but Mananndn would 
 not do this until the boy was sixteen years of age and well 
 reared in the wisdom of the Land of Promise. Then he 
 did bring Mongan back, and by his means peace was made 
 between Mongan and Fiachna Duv, and Mongan was married 
 to his cradle-bride, the young Duv Laca. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 ONE day Mongan and Duv Laca were playing chess in 
 their palace. Mongan had just made a move of skill, and 
 he looked up from the board to see if Duv Laca seemed as 
 discontented as she had a right to be. He saw then over 
 Duv Laca's shoulder a little black-faced, tufty-headed cleric 
 leaning against the door-post inside the room. 
 
 " What are you doing there ? " said Mongan. 
 
 " What are you doing there yourself ? " said the little 
 black-faced cleric. 
 
 " Indeed, I have a right to be in my own house," said 
 Mongan. 
 
 " Indeed I do not agree with you," said the cleric. 
 
 " Where ought I to be, then ? " said Mongan. 
 
 " You ought to be at Dun Fiathac avenging the murder 
 of your father," replied the cleric, " and you ought to be 
 ashamed of yourself for not having done it long ago. You 
 can play chess with your wife when you have won the right 
 to leisure." 
 
 " But how can I kill my wife's father ? " Mongan 
 exclaimed. 
 
 " By starting about it at once," said the cleric. 
 
 " Here is a way of talking ! " said Mongan. 
 
 " I know," the cleric continued, " that Duv Laca will 
 
 280 
 
CHAP, ix MONGAN'S FRENZY 281 
 
 
 
 not agree with a word I say on this subject, and that she will 
 try to prevent you from doing what you have a right to do, 
 for that is a wife's business, but a man's business is to do 
 what I have just told you ; so come with me now and do not 
 wait to think about it, and do not wait to play any more 
 chess. Fiachna Duv has only a small force with him at 
 this moment, and we can burn his palace as he burned your 
 father's palace, and kill him as he killed your father, and 
 crown you King of Ulster rightfully the way he crowned 
 himself wrongfully as a king." 
 
 " I begin to think that you own a lucky tongue, my 
 black-faced friend," said Mongan, " and I will go with you." 
 
 He collected his forces then, and he burned Fiachna 
 Duv's fortress, and he killed Fiachna Duv, and he was 
 crowned King of Ulster. 
 
 Then for the first time he felt secure and at liberty to 
 play chess. But he did not know until afterwards that the 
 black-faced, tufty-headed person was his father Mananndn, 
 although that was the fact. 
 
 There are some who say, however, that Fiachna the Black 
 was killed in the year 624 by the lord of the Scot's Dal 
 Riada, Condad Cerr, at the battle of Ard Carainn ; but 
 the people who say this do not know what they are talking 
 about, and they do not care greatly what it is they say. 
 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 " THERE is nothing to marvel about in this Duv Laca," said 
 the Flame Lady scornfully. " She has got married, and 
 she has been beaten at chess. It has happened before." 
 
 " Let us keep to the story," said Mongan, and, having 
 taken some few dozen deep draughts of the wine, he became 
 even more jovial than before. Then he recommenced his 
 tale : 
 
 It happened on a day that Mongan had need of treasure. 
 He had many presents to make, and he had not as much 
 gold and silver and cattle as was proper for a king. He 
 called his nobles together and discussed what was the best 
 thing to be done, and it was arranged that he should visit 
 the provincial kings and ask boons from them. 
 
 He set out at once on his round of visits, and the first 
 province he went to was Leinster. 
 
 The King of Leinster at that time was Branduv, the son 
 of Echach. He welcomed Mongan and treated him well, 
 and that night Mongan slept in his palace. 
 
 When he awoke in the morning he looked out of a 
 lofty window, and he saw on the sunny lawn before the 
 palace a herd of cows. There were fifty cows in all, for he 
 counted them, and each cow had a calf beside her, and each 
 
 282 
 
CHAP.X MONGAN'S FRENZY 283 
 
 cow and calf was pure white in colour, and each of them 
 had red ears. 
 
 When Mongan saw these cows he fell in love with them 
 as he had never fallen in love with anything before. 
 
 He came down from the window and walked on the sunny 
 lawn among the cows, looking at each of them and speaking 
 words of affection and endearment to them all ; and while he 
 was thus walking and talking and looking and loving, he 
 noticed that some one was moving beside him. He looked 
 from the cows then, and saw that the King of Leinster was at 
 his side. 
 
 " Are you in love with the cows ? " Branduv asked him. 
 
 " I am," said Mongan. 
 
 " Everybody is," said the King of Leinster. 
 
 " I never saw anything like them," said Mongan. 
 
 " Nobody has," said the King of Leinster. 
 
 " I never saw anything I would rather have than these 
 cows," said Mongan. 
 
 " These," said the King of Leinster, " are the most 
 beautiful cows in Ireland, and," he continued thoughtfully, 
 " Duv Laca is the most beautiful woman in Ireland." 
 
 " There is no lie in what you say," said Mongan. 
 
 " Is it not a queer thing," said the King of Leinster, 
 " that I should have what you want with all your soul, and 
 you should have what I want with all my heart." 
 
 " Queer indeed," said Mongan, " but what is it that you 
 do want ? " 
 
 " Duv Laca, of course," said the King of Leinster. 
 
 " Do you mean," said Mongan, " that you would ex- 
 change this herd of fifty pure white cows having red ears " 
 
 " And their fifty calves," said the King of Leinster 
 
 " For Duv Laca, or for any woman in the world ? " 
 
284 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP.X 
 
 " I would," cried the King of Leinster, and he thumped 
 his knee as he said it. 
 
 " Done," roared Mongan, and the two kings shook 
 hands on the bargain. 
 
 Mongan then called some of his own people, and before 
 any more words could be said and before any alteration could 
 be made, he set his men behind the cows and marched home 
 with them to Ulster. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 Duv LACA wanted to know where the cows came from, and 
 Mongan told her that the King of Leinster had given them 
 to him. She fell in love with them as Mongan had done, 
 but there was nobody in the world could have avoided loving 
 those cows : such cows they were ! such wonders ! Mongan 
 and Duv Laca used to play chess together, and then they 
 would go out together to look at the cows, and then they 
 would go in together and would talk to each other about 
 the cows. Everything they did they did together, for they 
 loved to be with each other. 
 
 However, a change came. 
 
 One morning a great noise of voices and trampling of 
 horses and rattle of armour came about the palace. Mongan 
 looked from the window. 
 
 " Who is coming ? " asked Duv Laca. 
 
 But he did not answer her. 
 
 " This noise must announce the visit of a king," Duv 
 Laca continued. 
 
 But Mongan did not say a word. 
 
 Duv Laca then went to the window. 
 
 " Who is that king ? " she asked. 
 
 And her husband replied to her then : 
 
 " That is the King of Leinster," said he mournfully. 
 
 285 
 
286 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 " Well," said Duv Laca, surprised, " is he not welcome ? " 
 
 " He is welcome indeed," said Mongan lamentably. 
 
 " Let us go out and welcome him properly," Duv Laca 
 suggested. 
 
 " Let us not go near him at all," said Mongan, " for he 
 is coming to complete his bargain." 
 
 " What bargain are you talking about ? " Duv Laca 
 asked. 
 
 But Mongan would not answer that. 
 
 " Let us go out," said he, " for we must go out." 
 
 Mongan and Duv Laca went out then and welcomed 
 the King of Leinster. They brought him and his chief men 
 into the palace, and water was brought for their baths, and 
 rooms were appointed for them, and everything was done 
 that should be done for guests. 
 
 That night there was a feast, and after the feast there 
 was a banquet, and all through the feast and the banquet the 
 King of Leinster stared at Duv Laca with joy, and some- 
 times his breast was delivered of great sighs, and at times 
 he moved as though in perturbation of spirit and mental 
 agony. 
 
 " There is something wrong with the King of Leinster," 
 Duv Laca whispered. 
 
 " I don't care if there is," said Mongan. 
 
 " You must ask what he wants." 
 
 " But I don't want to know it," said Mongan. 
 
 " Nevertheless, you must ask him," she insisted. 
 
 So Mongan did ask him, and it was in a melancholy 
 voice that he asked it. 
 
 " Do you want anything ? " said he to the King of 
 Leinster. 
 
 " I do indeed," said Branduv. 
 
xi MONGAN'S FRENZY 287 
 
 " If it is in Ulster I will get it for you," said Mongan 
 mournfully. 
 
 " It is in Ulster," said Branduv. 
 
 Mongan did not want to say anything more then, but 
 the King of Leinster was so intent and everybody else was 
 listening and Duv Laca was nudging his arm, so he said : 
 
 " What is it that you do want ? " 
 
 " I want Duv Laca." 
 
 " I want her too," said Mongan. 
 
 " You made your bargain," said the King of Leinster, 
 " my cows and their calves for your Duv Laca, and the man 
 that makes a bargain keeps a bargain." 
 
 " I never before heard," said Mongan, " of a man giving 
 away his own wife." 
 
 " Even if you never heard of it before, you must do it 
 now," said Duv Laca, " for honour is longer than life." 
 
 Mongan became angry when Duv Laca said that. His 
 face went red as a sunset, and the veins swelled in his neck 
 and his forehead. 
 
 " Do you say that ? " he cried to Duv Laca. 
 
 " I do," said Duv Laca. 
 
 " Let the King of Leinster take her," said Mongan. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 Duv LACA and the King of Leinster went apart then to 
 speak together, and the eye of the king seemed to be as big 
 as a plate, so fevered was it and so enlarged and inflamed by 
 the look of Duv Laca. He was so confounded with joy 
 also that his words got mixed up with his teeth, and Duv 
 Laca did not know exactly what it was he was trying to say, 
 and he did not seem to know himself. But at last he did say 
 something intelligible, and this is w r hat he said : 
 
 " I am a very happy man," said he. 
 
 " And I," said Duv Laca, " am the happiest woman in 
 the world." 
 
 " Why should you be happy ? " the astonished king 
 demanded. 
 
 " Listen to me," she said. " If you tried to take me 
 away from this place against my own wish, one half of the 
 men of Ulster would be dead before you got me and the 
 other half would be badly wounded in my defence." 
 
 " A bargain is a bargain," the King of Leinster began. 
 
 " But," she continued, " they will not prevent my going 
 away, for they all know that I have been in love with you 
 for ages." 
 
 *' What have you been in with me for ages ? " said the 
 amazed king. 
 
 288 
 
CHAP, xii MONGAN'S FRENZY 289 
 
 " In love with you," replied Duv Laca. 
 
 " This is news," said the king, " and it is good news." 
 
 " But, by my word," said Duv Laca, " I will not go with 
 you unless you grant me a boon." 
 
 " All that I have," cried Branduv, " and all that every- 
 body has." 
 
 " And you must pass your word and pledge your word 
 that you will do what I ask." 
 
 " I pass it and pledge it," cried the joyful king. 
 
 " Then," said Duv Laca, " this is what I bind on 
 you." 
 
 " Light the yoke ! " he cried. 
 
 " Until one year is up and out you are not to pass the 
 night in any house that I am in." 
 
 " By my head and my hand ! " Branduv stammered. 
 
 " And if you come into a house where I am during the 
 time and term of that year, you are not to sit down in the 
 chair that I am sitting in." 
 
 " Heavy is my doom ! " he groaned. 
 
 " But," said Duv Laca, " if I am sitting in a chair or a 
 seat you are to sit in a chair that is over against me and 
 opposite to me and at a distance from me." 
 
 " Alas ! " said the king, and he smote his hands together, 
 and then he beat them on his head, and then he looked at 
 them and at everything about, and he could not tell what 
 anything was or where anything was, for his mind was 
 clouded and his wits had gone astray. 
 
 " Why do you bind these woes on me ? " he pleaded. 
 
 " I wish to find out if you truly love me." 
 
 " But I do," said the king. " I love you madly and 
 dearly, and with all my faculties and members." 
 
 " That is the way I love you," said Duv Laca. " We 
 
 u 
 
290 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP.XII 
 
 shall have a notable year of courtship and joy. And let us 
 go now," she continued, " for I am impatient to be with 
 you." 
 
 " Alas ! " said Branduv, as he followed her. " Alas, 
 alas ! " said the King of Leinster. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 " I THINK/' said the Flame Lady, " that whoever lost that 
 woman had no reason to be sad." 
 
 Mongan took her chin in his hand and kissed her lips. 
 
 " All that you say is lovely, for you are lovely," said 
 he, " and you are my delight and the joy of the world." 
 
 Then the attendants brought him wine, and he drank 
 so joyously of that and so deeply, that those who observed 
 him thought he would surely burst and drown them. But 
 he laughed loudly and with enormous delight, until the 
 vessels of gold and silver and bronze chimed mellowly to 
 his peal and the rafters of the house went creaking. 
 
 For (said he), Mongan loved Duv Laca of the White 
 Hand better than he loved his life, better than he loved his 
 honour. The kingdoms of the world did not weigh with 
 him beside the string of her shoe. He would not look at 
 a sunset if he could see her. He would not listen to a 
 harp if he could hear her speak, for she was the delight of 
 ages, the gem of time, and the wonder of the world till 
 Doom. 
 
 She went to Leinster with the king of that country, 
 and when she had gone Mongan fell grievously sick, so that 
 it did not seem he could ever recover again ; and he began 
 
 291 
 
292 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 to waste and wither, and he began to look like a skeleton, 
 and a bony structure, and a misery. 
 
 Now this also must be known. 
 
 Duv Laca had a young attendant, who was her foster- 
 sister as well as her servant, and on the day that she got 
 married to Mongan, her attendant was married to mac an 
 Dav, who was servant and foster-brother to Mongan. When 
 Duv Laca went away with the King of Leinster, her servant, 
 mac an Dav's wife, went with her, so there were two wifeless 
 men in Ulster at that time, namely, Mongan the king and 
 mac an Dav his servant. 
 
 One day as Mongan sat in the sun, brooding lamentably 
 on his fate, mac an Dav came to him. 
 
 " How are things with you, master ? " asked mac an Dav. 
 
 " Bad," said Mongan. 
 
 " It was a poor day brought you off with Manannan to 
 the Land of Promise," said his servant. 
 
 " Why should you think that ? " inquired Mongan. 
 
 " Because," said mac an Dav, " you learned nothing in 
 the Land of Promise except how to eat a lot of food and how 
 to do nothing in a deal of time." 
 
 " What business is it of yours ? " said Mongan angrily. 
 
 " It is my business surely," said mac an Dav, " for my 
 wife has gone off to Leinster with your wife, and she wouldn't 
 have gone if you hadn't made a bet and a bargain with that 
 accursed king." 
 
 Mac an Dav began to weep then. 
 
 " 1 didn't make a bargain with any king," said he, " and yet 
 my wife has gone away with one, and it's all because of you." 
 
 " There is no one sorrier for you than I am," said Mongan. 
 
 " There is indeed," said mac an Dav, " for I am sorrier 
 myself." 
 
xiii MONGAN'S FRENZY 293 
 
 Mongan roused himself then. 
 
 " You have a claim on me truly," said he, " and I will 
 not have any one with a claim on me that is not satisfied. 
 Go," he said to mac an Dav, " to that fairy place we both 
 know of. You remember the baskets I left there with the 
 sod from Ireland in one and the sod from Scotland in the 
 other ; bring me the baskets and sods." 
 
 ' Tell me the why of this ? " said his servant. 
 
 " The King of Leinster will ask his wizards what I am 
 doing, and this is what I will be doing. I will get on your 
 back with a foot in each of the baskets, and when Branduv 
 asks the wizards where I am they will tell him that I have 
 one leg in Ireland and one leg in Scotland, and as long as 
 they tell him that he will think he need not bother himself 
 about me, and we will go into Leinster that way." 
 
 " No bad way either," said mac an Dav. 
 
 They set out then. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 IT was a long, uneasy journey, for although mac an Dav 
 was of stout heart and good will, yet no man can carry 
 another on his back from Ulster to Leinster and go quick. 
 Still, if you keep on driving a pig or a story they will get 
 at last to w r here you wish them to go, and the man who con- 
 tinues putting one foot in front of the other will leave his 
 home behind, and will come at last to the edge of the sea 
 and the end of the world. 
 
 When they reached Leinster the feast of Moy Life* 
 was being held, and they pushed on by forced marches and 
 long stages so as to be in time, and thus they came to the 
 Moy of Cell Camain, and they mixed with the crowd that 
 were going to the feast. 
 
 A great and joyous concourse of people streamed about 
 them. There were young men and young girls, and when 
 these were not holding each other's hands it was because 
 their arms were round each other's necks. There were 
 old, lusty women going by, and when these were not 
 talking together it was because their mouths were mutually 
 filled with apples and meat -pies. There were young 
 warriors with mantles of green and purple and red flying 
 behind them on the breeze, and when these were not 
 looking disdainfully on older soldiers it was because the 
 
 294 
 
CHAP, xiv MONGAN'S FRENZY 295 
 
 older soldiers happened at the moment to be looking at 
 them. There were old warriors with yard-long beards 
 flying behind their shoulders like wisps of hay, and when 
 these were not nursing a broken arm or a cracked skull, it 
 was because they were nursing wounds in their stomachs or 
 their legs. There were troops of young women who giggled 
 as long as their breaths lasted and beamed when it gave out. 
 Bands of boys who whispered mysteriously together and 
 pointed with their fingers in every direction at once, and 
 would suddenly begin to run like a herd of stampeded 
 horses. There were men with carts full of roasted meats. 
 Women with little vats full of mead, and others carrying milk 
 and beer. Folk of both sorts with towers swaying on their 
 heads, and they dripping with honey. Children having 
 baskets piled with red apples, and old women who peddled 
 shell-fish and boiled lobsters. There were people who sold 
 twenty kinds of bread, with butter thrown in. Sellers of 
 onions and cheese, and others who supplied spare bits of 
 armour, odd scabbards, spear handles, breastplate-laces. 
 People who cut your hair or told your fortune or gave you 
 a hot bath in a pot. Others who put a shoe on your horse 
 or a piece of embroidery on your mantle ; and others, again, 
 who took stains off your sword or dyed your finger-nails or 
 sold you a hound. 
 
 It was a great and joyous gathering that was going to 
 the feast. 
 
 Mongan and his servant sat against a grassy hedge by 
 the roadside and watched the multitude streaming past. 
 
 Just then Mongan glanced to the right whence the 
 people were coming. Then he pulled the hood of his cloak 
 over his ears and over his brow. 
 
 " Alas ! " said he in a deep and anguished voice. 
 
296 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 Mac an Ddv turned to him. 
 
 " Is it a pain in your stomach, master ? " 
 
 " It is not," said Mongan. 
 
 " Well, what made you make that brutal and belching 
 noise ? " 
 
 " It was a sigh I gave," said Mongan. 
 
 ' Whatever it was," said mac an Dav, " what was it ? " 
 
 " Look down the road on this side and tell me who is 
 coming," said his master. 
 
 " It is a lord with his troop." 
 
 " It is the King of Leinster," said Mongan. 
 
 " The man," said mac an Dav in a tone of great pity, 
 :< the man that took away your wife ! And," he roared in a 
 voice of extraordinary savagery, " the man that took away 
 my wife into the bargain, and she not in the bargain." 
 
 " Hush," said Mongan, for a man who heard his shout 
 stopped to tie a sandal, or to listen. 
 
 " Master," said mac an Dav as the troop drew abreast 
 and moved past. 
 
 " What is it, my good friend ? " 
 
 " Let me throw a little, small piece of a rock at the King 
 of Leinster." 
 
 " I will not." 
 
 " A little bit only, a small bit about twice the size of my 
 head." 
 
 " I will not let you," said Mongan. 
 
 When the king had gone by mac an Ddv groaned a 
 deep and dejected groan. 
 
 :< Oc6n ! " said he. " Ocon-io-go-deo ! " said he. 
 
 The man who had tied his sandal said then : 
 
 " Are you in pain, honest man ? " 
 
 " I am not in pain," said mac an Dav. 
 
xiv MONGAN'S FRENZY 297 
 
 " Well, what was it that knocked a howl out of you 
 like the yelp of a sick dog, honest man ? " 
 
 " Go away," said mac an Dav, " go away, you flat-faced, 
 nosy person." 
 
 " There is no politeness left in this country," said the 
 stranger, and he went away to a certain distance, and from 
 thence he threw a stone at mac an Dav's nose, and hit it. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE road was now not so crowded as it had been. Minutes 
 would pass and only a few travellers would come, and 
 minutes more would go when nobody was in sight at all. 
 
 Then two men came down the road : they were clerics. 
 
 " I never saw that kind of uniform before/' said mac 
 an Dav. 
 
 " Even if you didn't," said Mongan, " there are plenty 
 of them about. They are men that don't believe in our 
 gods," said he. 
 
 " Do they not, indeed ? " said mac an Dav. " The rascals ! " 
 said he. " What, what would Manannan say to that ? " 
 
 " The one in front carrying the big book is Tibraide, 
 he is the priest of Cell Camain, and he is the chief of those 
 two." 
 
 " Indeed, and indeed ! " said mac an Ddv. " The one 
 behind must be his servant, for he has a load on his back." 
 
 298 
 
CHAP, xv MONGAN'S FRENZY 299 
 
 The priests were reading their offices, and mac an Ddv 
 marvelled at that. 
 
 " What is it they are doing ? " said he. 
 * They are reading." 
 
 " Indeed, and indeed they are," said mac an Dav. " I 
 can't make out a word of the language except that the man 
 behind says amen, amen, every time the man in front puts 
 a grunt out of him. And they don't like our gods at all ! " 
 said mac an Dav. 
 
 " They do not," said Mongan. 
 
 " Play a trick on them, master," said mac an Ddv. 
 
 Mongan agreed to play a trick on the priests. 
 
 He looked at them hard for a minute, and then he waved 
 his hand at them. 
 
 The two priests stopped, and they stared straight in front 
 of them, and then they looked at each other, and then they 
 looked at the ,sky. The clerk began to bless himself, and 
 then Tibraid began to bless himself, and after that they 
 didn't know what to do. For where there had been a road 
 with hedges on each side and fields stretching beyond them, 
 there was now no road, no hedge, no field ; but there was 
 a great broad river sweeping across their path ; a mighty 
 tumble of yellowy-brown waters, very swift, very savage ; 
 churning and billowing and jockeying among rough boulders 
 and islands of stone. It was a water of villainous depth and 
 of detestable wetness ; of ugly hurrying and of desolate 
 cavernous sound. At a little to their right there was a thin 
 uncomely bridge that waggled across the torrent. 
 
 Tibraide rubbed his eyes, and then he looked again. 
 
 " Do you see what I see ? " said he to the clerk. 
 
 " I don't know what you see," said the clerk, " but what 
 I see I never did see before, and I wish I did not see it now." 
 
300 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP.XV 
 
 " I was born in this place/' said Tibraide, " my father 
 was born here before me, and my grandfather was born here 
 before him, but until this day and this minute I never saw a 
 river here before, and I never heard of one." 
 
 "What will we do at all?" said the clerk. "What 
 will we do at all ? " 
 
 " We will be sensible," said Tibraide sternly, " and we 
 will go about our business," said he. " If rivers fall out of 
 the sky what has that to do with you, and if there is a river 
 here, which there is, why, thank God, there is a bridge over 
 
 it too." 
 
 ' Would you put a toe on that bridge ? " said the clerk. 
 
 " What is the bridge for ? " said Tibraide. 
 
 Mongan and mac an Dav followed them. 
 
 When they got to the middle of the bridge it broke under 
 them, and they were precipitated into that boiling yellow 
 flood. 
 
 Mongan snatched at the book as it fell from Tibraide's 
 hand. 
 
 " Won't you let them drown, master ? " asked mac an 
 Ddv. 
 
 " No," said Mongan, " I'll send them a mile down the 
 stream, and then they can come to land." 
 
 Mongan then took on himself the form of Tibraide and 
 he turned mac an Dav into the shape of the clerk. 
 
 " My head has gone bald," said the servant in a whisper. 
 
 " That is part of it," replied Mongan. 
 
 :< So long as we know ! " said mac an Dav. 
 
 They went on then to meet the King of Leinster. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THEY met him near the place where the games were played. 
 
 " Good my soul, Tibraide ! " cried the King of Leinster, 
 and he gave Mongan a kiss. Mongan kissed him back 
 again. 
 
 " Amen, amen," said mac an Dav. 
 
 " What for ? " said the King of Leinster. 
 
 And then mac an Dav began to sneeze, for he didn't 
 know what for. 
 
 " It is a long time since I saw you, Tibraide," said the 
 king, " but at this minute I am in great haste and hurry. 
 Go you on before me to the fortress, and you can talk to the 
 queen that you'll find there, she that used to be the King of 
 Ulster's wife. Kevin Cochlach, my charioteer, will go with 
 you, and I will follow you myself in a while." 
 
 The King of Leinster went off then, and Mongan and his 
 servant went with the charioteer and the people. 
 
 Mongan read away out of the book, for he found it 
 interesting, and he did not want to talk to the charioteer, 
 and mac an Dav cried, amen, amen, every time that Mongan 
 took his breath. The people who were going with them 
 said to one another that mac an Dav was a queer kind of 
 clerk, and that they had never seen any one who had such a 
 mouthful of amens. 
 
 301 
 
3 02 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP.XVI 
 
 But in a while they came to the fortress, and they got 
 into it without any trouble, for Kevin Cochlach, the king's 
 charioteer, brought them in. Then they were led to the 
 room where Duv Laca was, and as he went into that room 
 Mongan shut his eyes, for he did not want to look at Duv 
 Laca while other people might be looking at him. 
 
 " Let everybody leave this room, while I am talking to 
 the queen," said he ; and all the attendants left the room, 
 except one, and she wouldn't go, for she wouldn't leave her 
 mistress. 
 
 Then Mongan opened his eyes and he saw Duv Laca, 
 and he made a great bound to her and took her in his arms, 
 and mac an Dav made a savage and vicious and terrible 
 jump at the attendant, and took her in his arms, and bit her 
 ear and kissed her neck and wept down into her back. 
 
 " Go away," said the girl, " unhand me, villain," said she. 
 
 " I will not," said mac an Dav, " for I'm your own 
 husband, I'm your own mac, your little mac, your macky- 
 wac-wac." Then the attendant gave a little squeal, and 
 she bit him on each ear and kissed his neck and wept down 
 into his back, and said that it wasn't true and that it was. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 BUT they were not alone, although they thought they were. 
 The hag that guarded the jewels was in the room. She sat 
 hunched up against the wall, and as she looked like a 
 bundle of rags they did not notice her. She began to speak 
 then. 
 
 "Terrible are the things I see," said she. "Terrible 
 are the things I see." 
 
 Mongan and his servant gave a jump of surprise, and their 
 two wives jumped and squealed. Then Mongan puffed 
 out his cheeks till his face looked like a bladder, and he blew 
 a magic breath at the hag, so that she seemed to be sur- 
 rounded by a fog, and when she looked through that breath 
 
 303 
 
304 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 everything seemed to be different from what she had thought. 
 Then she began to beg everybody's pardon. 
 
 " I had an evil vision/' said she, " I saw crossways. 
 How sad it is that I should begin to see the sort of things I 
 thought I saw." 
 
 " Sit in this chair, mother," said Mongan, " and tell me 
 what you thought you saw," and he slipped a spike under 
 her, and mac an Dav pushed her into the seat, and she died 
 on the spike. 
 
 Just then there came a knocking at the door. Mac 
 an Dav opened it, and there was Tibraide standing outside, 
 and twenty-nine of his men were with him, and they were 
 all laughing. 
 
 " A mile was not half enough," said mac an Dav reproach- 
 fully. 
 
 The Chamberlain of the fortress pushed into the room 
 and he stared from one Tibraide to the other. 
 
 " This is a fine growing year," said he. " There never 
 was a year when Tibraides were as plentiful as they are this 
 year. There is a Tibraide outside and a Tibraide inside, 
 and who knows but there are some more of them under the 
 bed. The place is crawling with them," said he. 
 
 Mongan pointed at Tibraide. 
 
 " Don't you know who that is ? " he cried. 
 
 " I know who he says he is," said the Chamberlain. 
 
 " Well, he is Mongan," said Mongan, " and these twenty- 
 nine men are twenty-nine of his nobles from Ulster." 
 
 At that news the men of the household picked up clubs 
 and cudgels and every kind of thing that was near, and made 
 a violent and woeful attack on Tibraide's men. The King 
 of Leinster came in then, and when he was told Tibraide was 
 Mongan he attacked them as well, and it was with difficulty 
 
xvii MONGAN'S FRENZY 305 
 
 that Tibraide got away to Cell Camain with nine of his men 
 and they all wounded. 
 
 The King of Leinster came back then. He went to Duv 
 Laca's room. 
 
 " Where is Tibraide ? " said he. 
 
 "It wasn't Tibraide was here/' said the hag who was 
 still sitting on the spike, and was not half dead, " it was 
 Mongan." 
 
 " Why did you let him near you ? " said the king to 
 Duv Laca. 
 
 " There is no one has a better right to be near me than 
 Mongan has," said Duv Laca. " He is my own husband," 
 said she. 
 
 And then the king cried out in dismay : 
 
 " I have beaten Tibraide's people." 
 
 He rushed from the room. 
 
 " Send for Tibraide till I apologise," he cried. " Tell 
 him it was all a mistake. Tell him it was Mongan." 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 MONGAN and his servant went home, and (for what pleasure 
 is greater than that of memory exercised in conversation ?) 
 for a time the feeling of an adventure well accomplished 
 kept him in some contentment. But at the end of a time 
 that pleasure was worn out, and Mongan grew at first 
 dispirited and then sullen, and after that as ill as he had been 
 on the previous occasion. For he could not forget Duv 
 Laca of the White Hand, and he could not remember her 
 without longing and despair. 
 
 It was in the illness which comes from longing and 
 despair that he sat one day looking on a world that was black 
 although the sun shone, and that was lean and unwholesome 
 although autumn fruits were heavy on the earth and the joys 
 of harvest were about him. 
 
 " Winter is in my heart," quoth he, " and I am cold 
 already." 
 
 He thought too that some day he would die, and the 
 thought was not unpleasant, for one half of his life was away 
 in the territories of the King of Leinster, and the half that he 
 kept in himself had no spice in it. 
 
 He was thinking in this way when mac an Dav came 
 towards him over the lawn, and he noticed that mac an 
 Ddv was walking like an old man. 
 
 306 
 
CHAP, xvm MONGAN'S FRENZY 307 
 
 He took little slow steps, and he did not loosen his knees 
 when he walked, so he went stiffly. One of his feet turned 
 pitifully outwards, and the other turned lamentably in. His 
 chest was pulled inwards, and his head was stuck outwards 
 and hung down in the place where his chest should have 
 been, and his arms were crooked in front of him with the 
 hands turned wrongly, so that one palm was shown to the 
 east of the world and the other one was turned to the west. 
 
 " How goes it, mac an Dav ? " said the king. 
 
 " Bad," said mac an Dav. 
 
 " Is that the sun I see shining, my friend ? " the king asked. 
 
 " It may be the sun," replied mac an Dav, peering curi- 
 ously at the golden radiance that dozed about them, " but 
 maybe it's a yellow fog." 
 
 " What is life at all ? " said the king. 
 
 " It is a weariness and a tiredness," said mac an Dav. 
 " It is a long yawn without sleepiness. It is a bee, lost at 
 midnight and buzzing on a pane. It is the noise made by a 
 tied-up dog. It is nothing worth dreaming about. It is 
 nothing at all." 
 
 " How well you explain my feelings about Duv Laca," 
 said the king. 
 
 " I was thinking about my own lamb," said mac an 
 Ddv. " I was thinking about my own treasure, my cup of 
 cheeriness, and the pulse of my heart." And with that he 
 burst into tears. 
 
 " Alas ! " said the king. 
 
 " But," sobbed mac an Dav, " what right have I to 
 complain ? I am only the servant, and although I didn't 
 make any bargain with the King of Leinster or with any king 
 of them all, yet my wife is gone away as if she was the consort 
 of a potentate the same as Duv Laca is." 
 
3 o8 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 Mongan was sorry then for his servant, and he roused 
 himself. 
 
 " I am going to send you to Duv Laca." 
 
 " Where the one is the other will be," cried mac an 
 Ddv joyously. 
 
 " Go," said Mongan, " to Rath Descirt of Bregia ; you 
 know that place ? " 
 
 " As well as my tongue knows my teeth." 
 
 " Duv Laca is there ; see her, and ask her what she 
 wants me to do." 
 
 Mac an Ddv went there and returned. 
 
 " Duv Laca says that you are to come at once, for the 
 King of Leinster is journeying around his territory, and 
 Kevin Cochlach, the charioteer, is making bitter love to 
 her and wants her to run away with him." 
 
 Mongan set out, and in no great time, for they travelled 
 day and night, they came to Bregia, and gained admittance 
 to the fortress, but just as he got in he had to go out again, 
 for the King of Leinster had been warned of Mongan's 
 journey, and came back to his fortress in the nick oi 
 time. 
 
 When the men of Ulster saw the condition into which 
 Mongan fell they were in great distress, and they all got 
 sick through compassion for their king. The nobles sug- 
 gested to him that they should march against Leinster and 
 kill that king and bring back Duv Laca, but Mongan would 
 not consent to this plan. 
 
 " For," said he, " the thing I lost through my own folly 
 I shall get back through my own craft." 
 
 And when he said that his spirits revived, and he called 
 for mac an Ddv. 
 
 " You know, my friend," said Mongan, " that I can't 
 
xvm MONGAN'S FRENZY 309 
 
 get Duv Laca back unless the King of Leinster asks me to 
 take her back, for a bargain is a bargain." 
 
 " That will happen when pigs fly," said mac an Ddv, 
 " and," said he, " I did not make any bargain with any king 
 that is in the world." 
 
 " I heard you say that before," said Mongan. 
 
 " I will say it till Doom," cried his servant, " for my 
 wife has gone away with that pestilent king, and he has got 
 the double of your bad bargain." 
 
 Mongan and his servant then set out for Leinster. 
 
 When they neared that country they found a great 
 crowd going on the road with them, and they learned that 
 the king was giving a feast in honour of his marriage to Duv 
 Laca, for the year of waiting was nearly out, and the king 
 had sworn he would delay no longer. 
 
 They went on, therefore, but in low spirits, and at last 
 they saw the walls of the king's castle towering before them, 
 and a noble company going to and fro on the lawn. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THEY sat in a place where they could watch the castle and 
 compose themselves after their journey. 
 
 " How are we going to get into the castle ? " asked mac 
 an Dav. 
 
 For there were hatchetmen on guard in the big gateway, 
 and there were spearmen at short intervals around the walls, 
 and men to throw hot porridge off the roof were standing 
 in the right places. 
 
 " If we cannot get in by hook, we will get in by crook/' 
 said Mongan. 
 
 " They are both good ways," said mac an Dav, " and 
 whichever of them you decide on I'll stick by." 
 
 Just then they saw the Hag of the Mill coming out of 
 the mill which was down the road a little. 
 
 Now the Hag of the Mill was a bony, thin pole of a 
 hag with odd feet'. That is, she had one foot that was too 
 big for her, so that when she lifted it up it pulled her over ; 
 and she had one foot that was too small for her, so that when 
 she lifted it up she didn't know what to do with it. She was 
 so long that you thought you would never see the end of 
 her, and she was so thin that you thought you didn't see her 
 at all. One of her eyes was set where her nose should be 
 and there was an ear in its place, and her nose itself was hang- 
 
 310 
 
The Hag of the Mill was a bony, thin pole of a hag with odd feet. 
 
 To face page 310. 
 
CHAP, xix MONGAN'S FRENZY 311 
 
 ing out of her chin, and she had whiskers round it. She 
 was dressed in a red rag that was really a hole with a fringe 
 on it, and she was singing " Oh, hush thee, my one love " to 
 a cat that was yelping on her shoulder. 
 
 She had a tall skinny dog behind her called Brotar. It 
 hadn't a tooth in its head except one, and it had the toothache 
 in that tooth. Every few steps it used to sit down on its 
 hunkers and point its nose straight upwards, and make a 
 long, sad complaint about its tooth ; and after that it used to 
 reach its hind leg round and try to scratch out its tooth ; 
 and then it used to be pulled on again by the straw rope 
 that was round its neck, and which was tied at the other end 
 to the hag's heaviest foot. 
 
 There was an old, knock-kneed, raw-boned, one-eyed, 
 little - winded, heavy-headed mare with her also. Every 
 time it put a front leg forward it shivered all over the rest 
 of its legs backwards, and when it put a hind leg forward it 
 shivered all over the rest of its legs frontwards, and it used 
 to give a great whistle through its nose when it was out of 
 breath, and a big, thin hen was sitting on its croup. 
 
 Mongan looked on the Hag of the Mill with delight 
 and affection. 
 
 " This time," said he to mac an Dav, " I'll get back my 
 wife." 
 
 " You will indeed," said mac an Dav heartily, " and 
 you'll get mine back too." 
 
 " Go over yonder," said Mongan, " and tell the Hag 
 of the Mill that I want to talk to her." 
 
 Mac an Dav brought her over to him. 
 
 " Is it true what the servant man said ? " she asked. 
 
 " What did he say ? " said Mongan. 
 
 " He said you wanted to talk to me." 
 
3 i2 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 " It is true," said Mongan. 
 
 c This is a wonderful hour and a glorious minute," said 
 the hag, " for this is the first time in sixty years that any 
 one wanted to talk to me. Talk on now," said she, " and 
 I'll listen to you if I can remember how to do it. Talk 
 gently," said she, " the way you won't disturb the animals, 
 for they are all sick." 
 
 " They are sick indeed," said mac an Ddv pityingly. 
 
 c The cat has a sore tail," said she, " by reason of sitting 
 too close to a part of the hob that was hot. The dog has a 
 toothache, the horse has a pain in her stomach, and the hen 
 has the pip." 
 
 " Ah, it's a sad world," said mac an Dav. 
 
 " There you are ! " said the hag. 
 
 " Tell me," Mongan commenced, " if you got a wish, 
 what it is you would wish for ? " 
 
 The hag took the cat off her shoulder and gave it to 
 mac an Dav. 
 
 " Hold that for me while I think," said she. 
 
 " Would you like to be a lovely young girl ? " asked 
 Mongan. 
 
 " I'd sooner be that than a skinned eel," said she. 
 
 " And would you like to marry me or the King of 
 Leinster ? " 
 
 " I'd like to marry either of you, or both of you, or 
 whichever of you came first." 
 
 ' Very well," said Mongan, " you shall have your wish." 
 
 He touched her with his finger, and the instant he 
 touched her all dilapidation and wryness and age went from 
 her, and she became so beautiful that one dared scarcely 
 look on her, and so young that she seemed but sixteen years 
 of age. 
 
xix MONGAN'S FRENZY 313 
 
 " You are not the Hag of the Mill any longer/' said 
 Mongan, " you are Ivell of the Shining Cheeks, daughter 
 of the King of Munster." 
 
 He touched the dog too, and it became a little silky 
 lapdog that could nestle in your palm. Then he changed 
 the old mare into a brisk piebald palfrey. Then he changed 
 himself so that he became the living image of Ae, the son of 
 the King of Connaught, who had just been married to Ivell 
 of the Shining Cheeks, and then he changed mac an Ddv 
 into the likeness of Ac's attendant, and then they all set off 
 towards the fortress, singing the song that begins : 
 
 My wife is nicer than any one's wife, 
 
 Any one's wife, any one's wife, 
 My wife is nicer than any one's wife, 
 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE doorkeeper brought word to the King of Leinster 
 that the son of the King of Connaught, Ae the Beautiful, 
 and his wife, Ivell of the Shining Cheeks, were at the door, 
 that they had been banished from Connaught by Ac's father, 
 and they were seeking the protection of the King of Leinster. 
 
 Branduv came to the door himself to welcome them, 
 and the minute he looked on Ivell of the Shining Cheeks 
 it was plain that he liked looking at her. 
 
 It was now drawing towards evening, and a feast was 
 prepared for the guests with a banquet to follow it. At 
 the feast Duv Laca sat beside the King of Leinster, but 
 Mongan sat opposite him with Ivell, and Mongan put more 
 and more magic into the hag, so that her cheeks shone and 
 her eyes gleamed, and she was utterly bewitching to the eye ; 
 and when Branduv looked at her she seemed to grow more 
 and more lovely and more and more desirable, and at last 
 there was not a bone in his body as big as an inch that was 
 not filled with love and longing for the girl. 
 
 Every few minutes he gave a great sigh as if he had 
 eaten too much, and when Duv Laca asked him if he had 
 eaten too much he said he had but that he had not drunk 
 enough, and by that he meant that he had not drunk enough 
 from the eyes of the girl before him. 
 
 314 
 
CHAP, xx MONGAN'S FRENZY 315 
 
 At the banquet which was then held he looked at her 
 again, and every time he took a drink he toasted Ivell across 
 the brim of his goblet, and in a little while she began to 
 toast him back across the rim of her cup, for he was drinking 
 ale, but she was drinking mead. Then he sent a messenger 
 to her to say that it was a far better thing to be the wife of 
 the Kino: of Leinster than to be the wife of the son of the 
 
 O ^ KXln 
 
 King of Connaught, for a king is better than a prince, and 
 Ivell thought that this was as wise a thing as anybody had 
 ever said. And then he sent a message to say that he loved 
 her so much that he would certainly burst of love if it did 
 not stop. 
 
 Mongan heard the whispering, and he told the hag 
 that if she did what he advised she would certainly get either 
 himself or the King of Leinster for a husband. 
 
 ' Either of you will be welcome," said the hag. 
 
 " When the king says he loves you, ask him to prove it 
 by gifts ; ask for his drinking-horn first." 
 
 She asked for that, and he sent it to her filled with good 
 liquor ; then she asked for his girdle, and he sent her that. 
 
 His people argued with him and said it was not right 
 that he should give away the treasures of Leinster to the wife 
 of the King of Connaught's son ; but he said that it did not 
 matter, for when he got the girl he would get his treasures 
 with her. But every time he sent anything to the hag, 
 mac an Dav snatched it out of her lap and put it in his 
 pocket. 
 
 " Now," said Mongan to the hag, " tell the servant to 
 say that you would not leave your own husband for all the 
 wealth of the world." 
 
 She told the servant that, and the servant told it to the 
 king. 
 
3 i6 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP. 
 
 When Branduv heard it he nearly went mad with love 
 and longing and jealousy, and with rage also, because of 
 the treasure he had given her and might not get back. He 
 called Mongan over to him, and spoke to him very threaten- 
 ingly and ragingly. 
 
 " I am not one who takes a thing without giving a thing," 
 said he. 
 
 " Nobody could say you were," agreed Mongan. 
 
 " Do you see this woman sitting beside me," he con- 
 tinued, pointing to Duv Laca. 
 
 " I do indeed," said Mongan. 
 
 " Well," said Branduv, " this woman is Duv Laca of 
 the White Hand that I took away from Mongan ; she is 
 just going to marry me, but if you will make an exchange, 
 you can marry this Duv Laca here, and I will marry that 
 Ivell of the Shining Cheeks yonder." 
 
 Mongan pretended to be very angry then. 
 
 " If I had come here with horses and treasure you 
 would be in your right to take these from me, but you have 
 no right to ask for what you are now asking." 
 
 " I do ask for it," said Branduv menacingly, " and you 
 must not refuse a lord." 
 
 " Very well," said Mongan reluctantly, and as if in great 
 fear ; " if you will make the exchange I will make it, 
 although it breaks my heart." 
 
 He brought Ivell over to the king then and gave her 
 three kisses. 
 
 " The king would suspect something if I did not kiss 
 you," said he, and then he gave the hag over to the king. 
 
 After that they all got drunk and merry, and soon there 
 was a great snoring and snorting, and very soon all the 
 servants fell asleep also, so that Mongan could not get any- 
 
xx MONGAN'S FRENZY 317 
 
 thing to drink. Mac an Ddv said it was a great shame, and 
 he kicked some of the servants, but they did not budge, 
 and then he slipped out to the stables and saddled two mares. 
 He got on one with his wife behind him and Mongan got 
 on die other with Duv Laca behind him, and they rode 
 away towards Ulster like the wind, singing this song : 
 
 The King of Leinster was married to-day, 
 
 Married to-day, married to-day, 
 The King of Leinster was marriea to-day, 
 
 And every one wishes him joy. 
 
 In the morning the servants came to waken the King of 
 Leinster, and when they saw the face of the hag lying on 
 the pillow beside the king, and her nose all covered with 
 whiskers, and her big foot and little foot sticking away out 
 at the end of the bed, they began to laugh, and poke one 
 another in the stomach and thump one another on the 
 shoulder, so that the noise awakened the king, and he asked 
 what was the matter with them at all. It was then he saw 
 the hag lying beside him, and he gave a great screech and 
 jumped out of the bed. 
 
 " Aren't you the Hag of the Mill ? " said he. 
 
 " I am indeed," she replied, " and I love you dearly." 
 
 " I wish I didn't see you," said Branduv. 
 
 That was the end of the story, and when he had told 
 it Mongan began to laugh uproariously and called for more 
 wine. He drank this deeply, as though he was full of thirst 
 and despair and a wild jollity, but when the Flame Lady 
 began to weep he took her in his arms and caressed her, 
 and said that she was the love of his heart and the one treasure 
 of the world. 
 
 After that they feasted in great contentment, and at 
 
3 i8 IRISH FAIRY STORIES CHAP.XX 
 
 the end of the feasting they went away from Faery and 
 returned to the world of men. 
 
 They came to Mongan's palace at Moy Linney, and it 
 was not until they reached the palace that they found they 
 had been away one whole year, for they had thought they 
 were only away one night. They lived then peaceful \ 
 and lovingly together, and that ends the story, but Br6tiarna 
 did not know that Mongan was Fionn. 
 
 The abbot leaned forward. 
 
 ' Was Mongan Fionn ? " he asked in a whisper. 
 
 " He was," replied Cairid. 
 
 " Indeed, indeed ! " said the abbot. 
 
 After a while he continued. " There is only one part 
 of your story that I do not like." 
 
 " What part is that ? " asked Cairid. 
 
 " It is the part where the holy man Tibraide was ill- 
 treated by that rap by that by Mongan." 
 
 Cairide agreed that it was ill done, but to himself he 
 said gleefully that whenever he was asked to tell the stor r 
 of how he told the story of Mongan he would remembo 
 what the abbot said. 
 
 THE END 
 
 Printed by R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, Edinburgh. 
 
U.C. BERKELEY LIBRARIES