on his horse's neck, and started up the hill, that seemed to grow bigger
and bigger as he ascended, and the dwarf soon found that what he took
for a hill was a great mountain. After traveling all the day, toiling up
by steep crags and heathery passes, he reached the top as the sun was
setting in the ocean, and he saw far below him out in the waters the
island of the Mystic Lake.
He began his descent to the shore, but long before he reached it the sun
had set, and darkness, unpierced by a single star, dropped upon the sea.
The old horse, worn out by his long and painful journey, sank beneath
him, and the dwarf was so tired that he rolled off his back and fell
asleep by his side.
He awoke at the breaking of the morning, and saw that he was almost at
the water's edge. He looked out to sea, and saw the island, but nowhere
could he see the water-steeds, and he began to fear he must have taken
a wrong course in the night, and that the island before him was not the
one he was in search of. But even while he was so thinking he heard
fierce and angry snortings, and, coming swiftly from the island to the
shore, he saw the swimming and prancing steeds. Sometimes their heads
and manes only were visible, and sometimes, rearing, they rose half out
of the water, and, striking it with their hoofs, churned it into foam,
and tossed the white spray to the skies. As they approached nearer and
nearer their snortings became more terrible, and their nostrils shot
forth clouds of vapor. The dwarf trembled at the sight and sound, and
his old horse, quivering in every limb, moaned piteously, as if in pain.
On came the steeds, until they almost touched the shore, then rearing,
they seemed about to spring on to it. The frightened dwarf turned his
head to fly, and as he did so he heard the twang of a golden harp, and
right before him who should he see but the little man of the hills,
holding a harp in one hand and striking the strings with the other.
"Are you ready to pay the price?" said he, nodding gayly to the dwarf.
As he asked the question, the listening water-steeds snorted more
furiously than ever.
"Are you ready to pay the price?" said the little man a second time.
A shower of spray, tossed on shore by the angry steeds, drenched the
dwarf to the skin, and sent a cold shiver to his bones, and he was so
terrified that he could not answer.
"For the third and last time, are you ready to pay the price?" asked the
fairy, as he flung the harp behind him and turned to depart.
When the dwarf saw him going he thought of the little princess in the
lonely moor, and his courage came back, and he answered bravely:
"Yes, I am ready."
The water-steeds, hearing his answer, and snorting with rage, struck the
shore with their pounding hoofs.
"Back to your waves!" cried the little harper; and as he ran his fingers
across his lyre, the frightened steeds drew back into the waters.
"What is the price?" asked the dwarf.
"Your right eye," said the fairy; and before the dwarf could say
a word, the fairy scooped out the eye with his finger, and put it
into his pocket.
The dwarf suffered most terrible agony; but he resolved to bear it for
the sake of the little princess. Then the fairy sat down on a rock at
the edge of the sea, and, after striking a few notes, he began to play
the "Strains of Slumber."
The sound crept along the waters, and the steeds, so ferocious a moment
before, became perfectly still. They had no longer any motion of their
own, and they floated on the top of the tide like foam before a breeze.
"Now," said the fairy, as he led the dwarf's horse to the edge of the
tide.
The dwarf urged the horse into the water, and once out of his depth, the
old horse struck out boldly for the island. The sleeping water-steeds
drifted helplessly against him, and in a short time he reached the
island safely, and he neighed joyously as his hoofs touched solid
ground.
The dwarf rode on and on, until he came to a bridle-path, and following
this, it led him up through winding lanes, bordered with golden furze
that filled the air with fragrance, and brought him to the summit of the
green hills that girdled and looked down on the Mystic Lake. Here the
horse stopped of his own accord, and the dwarf's heart beat quickly as
his eye rested on the lake, that, clipped round by the ring of hills,
seemed in the breezeless and sunlit air--
"As still as death.
And as bright as life can be."
After gazing at it for a long time, he dismounted, and lay at his ease
in the pleasant grass. Hour after hour passed, but no change came over
the face of the waters, and when the night fell sleep closed the eyelids
of the dwarf.
The song of the lark awoke him in the early morning, and, starting up,
he looked at the lake, but its waters were as bright as they had been
the day before.
Towards midday he beheld what he thought was a black cloud sailing
across the sky from east to west. It seemed to grow larger as it came
nearer and nearer, and when it was high above the lake he saw it was
a huge bird, the shadow of whose outstretched wings darkened the waters
of the lake; and the dwarf knew it was one of the Cormorants of the
Western Seas. As it descended slowly, he saw that it held in one of its
claws a branch of a tree larger than a full-grown oak, and laden with
clusters of ripe red berries. It alighted at some distance from the
dwarf, and, after resting for a time, it began to eat the berries and to
throw the stones into the lake, and wherever a stone fell a bright red
stain appeared in the water. As he looked more closely at the bird the
dwarf saw that it had all the signs of old age, and he could not help
wondering how it was able to carry such a heavy tree.
Later in the day, two other birds, as large as the first, but younger,
came up from the west and settled down beside him. They also ate the
berries, and throwing the stones into the lake it was soon as red as
wine.
When they had eaten all the berries, the young birds began to pick the
decayed feathers off the old bird and to smooth his plumage. As soon as
they had completed their task, he rose slowly from the hill and sailed
out over the lake, and dropping down on the waters, dived beneath them.
In a moment he came to the surface, and shot up into the air with a
joyous cry, and flew off to the west in all the vigor of renewed youth,
followed by the other birds.
When they had gone so far that they were like specks in the sky, the
dwarf mounted his horse and descended towards the lake.
He was almost at the margin, and in another minute would have plunged
in, when he heard a fierce screaming in the air, and before he had time
to look up, the three birds were hovering over the lake.
The dwarf drew back frightened.
The birds wheeled over his head, and then, swooping down, they flew
close to the water, covering it with their wings, and uttering harsh
cries.
Then, rising to a great height, they folded their wings and dropped
headlong, like three rocks, on the lake, crashing its surface, and
scattering a wine-red shower upon the hills.[12]
Then the dwarf remembered what the fairy told him, that if he attempted
to swim the lake, without paying the price, the three Cormorants of the
Western Seas would pick the flesh off his bones. He knew not what to do,
and was about to turn away, when he heard once more the twang of the
golden harp, and the little fairy of the hills stood before him.
"Faint heart never won fair lady," said the little harper. "Are you
ready to pay the price? The spear and shield are on the opposite bank,
and the Princess Finola is crying this moment in the lonely moor."
At the mention of Finola's name the dwarf's heart grew strong.
"Yes," he said; "I am ready--win or die. What is the price?"
"Your left eye," said the fairy. And as soon as said he scooped out the
eye, and put it in his pocket.
The poor blind dwarf almost fainted with pain.
"It's your last trial," said the fairy, "and now do what I tell you.
Twist your horse's mane round your right hand, and I will lead him to
the water. Plunge in, and fear not. I gave you back your speech. When
you reach the opposite bank you will get back your memory, and you will
know who and what you are."
Then the fairy led the horse to the margin of the lake.
"In with you now, and good luck go with you," said the fairy.
The dwarf urged the horse. He plunged into the lake, and went down
and down until his feet struck the bottom. Then he began to ascend,
and as he came near the surface of the water the dwarf thought he saw
a glimmering light, and when he rose above the water he saw the bright
sun shining and the green hills before him, and he shouted with joy at
finding his sight restored.
But he saw more. Instead of the old horse he had ridden into the lake he
was bestride a noble steed, and as the steed swam to the bank the dwarf
felt a change coming over himself, and an unknown vigor in his limbs.
When the steed touched the shore he galloped up the hillside, and on the
top of the hill was a silver shield, bright as the sun, resting against
a spear standing upright in the ground.
The dwarf jumped off, and, running towards the shield, he saw himself as
in a looking-glass.
He was no longer a dwarf, but a gallant knight. At that moment his
memory came back to him, and he knew he was Conal, one of the Knights
of the Red Branch, and he remembered now that the spell of dumbness
and deformity had been cast upon him by the Witch of the Palace of the
Quicken Trees.
Slinging his shield upon his left arm, he plucked the spear from the
ground and leaped on to his horse. With a light heart he swam back over
the lake, and nowhere could he see the black Cormorants of the Western
Seas, but three white swans floating abreast followed him to the bank.
When he reached the bank he galloped down to the sea, and crossed to the
shore.
Then he flung the reins upon his horse's neck, and swifter than the wind
the gallant horse swept on and on, and it was not long until he was
bounding over the enchanted moor. Wherever his hoofs struck the ground,
grass and flowers sprang up, and great trees with leafy branches rose on
every side.
At last the knight reached the little hut. Three times he struck the
shield with the haft and three times with the blade of his spear. At
the last blow the hut disappeared, and standing before him was the
little princess.
[Illustration: "Standing before him was the little princess"]
The knight took her in his arms and kissed her; then he lifted her on to
the horse, and, leaping up before her, he turned towards the north, to
the palace of the Red Branch Knights, and as they rode on beneath the
leafy trees from every tree the birds sang out, for the spell of silence
over the lonely moor was broken for ever.
NOTES
I
_Liban the Mermaid_
Liban was the daughter of Ecca, son of Mario, King of Munster. Ecca,
having conquered the lordship of the half of Ulster, settled down with
his people in the plain of the Gray Copse, which is now covered by the
waters of Lough Necca, now Lough Neagh. A magic well had sprung up in
the plain, and not being properly looked after by the woman in charge of
it, its waters burst forth over the plain, drowning Ecca and nearly all
his family. Liban, although swept away like the others, was not drowned.
She lived for a whole year, with her lap-dog, in a chamber beneath the
lake, and God protected her from the water. At the end of that time she
was weary, and when she saw the speckled salmon swimming and playing all
round her, she prayed to be changed into a salmon that she might swim
with the others through the green, salt sea. Her prayer was granted; she
took the shape of a salmon, except her face and breast, which did not
change. And her lap-dog was changed into an otter, and attended her
afterwards whithersoever she went as long as she lived in the sea.
It is nearly eight hundred years ago since the story was transcribed
from some old authority into the "Book of the Dun Cow," the oldest
manuscript of Gaelic literature we possess.--Joyce's "Old Celtic
Romances," p. 97.
* * * * *
II
_The House in the Lake_
In the Irish annals lake dwellings, which were formerly common in
Ireland, are called _crannogs_, from _crann_, a tree, either because of
the timber framework of which the island was formed or of the wooden
huts erected thereon.
Some _crannogs_ appear to have been veritable islands, the only means
of communication with the land being canoes. Remains of these have been
frequently found near the dwelling, in some instances alongside the
landing stage, as if sunk at their moorings.
"Favorite sites for _crannogs_ were marshes, small loughs surrounded
by woods and large sheets of water. As providing good fishing grounds
the entrance to or exit of a stream from a lake was eagerly
selected."--"Lake Dwellings of Ireland," Col. Wood Martin, M.R.I.A.
* * * * *
III
_Brian's Water-dress_
Brian, Ur, and Urcar, the three sons of Turenn, were Dedanaan chiefs.
They slew Kian, the father of Luga of the Long Arms, who was grandson
of Balor of the Evil Eye. Luga imposed an extraordinary eric fine on
the sons of Turenn, part of which was "the cooking-spit of the women of
Fincara." For a quarter of a year Brian and his brothers sailed hither
and thither over the wide ocean, landing on many shores, seeking tidings
of the Island of Fincara. At last they met a very old man, who told them
that the island lay deep down in the waters, having been sunk beneath
the waves by a spell in times long past.
Then Brian put on his water-dress, with his helmet of transparent
crystal on his head, telling his brothers to wait his return. He leaped
over the side of the ship, and sank at once out of sight. He walked about
for a fortnight down in the green salt sea, seeking for the Island of
Fincara, and at last he found it.
His brothers waited for him in the same spot the whole time, and when he
came not they began to fear he would return no more. At last they were
about to leave the place, when they saw the glitter of his crystal
helmet deep down in the water, and immediately after he came to the
surface with the cooking-spit in his hand.--"Old Celtic Romances"
(Joyce), p. 87.
* * * * *
IV
_Prince Cuglas_
In the list of the historic tales mentioned in the Book of Leinster,
and which is given in O'Curry's appendix to his "Lectures on the MSS.
Materials of Ancient Irish History," "The Cave of the Road of Cuglas"
finds place. O'Curry has the following note:--
"Cuglas was the son of Donn Desa, King of Leinster, and master of the
hounds to the monarch Conairé Mor. Having one day followed the chase
from Tara to this road, the chase suddenly disappeared in a cave,
into which he followed, and was _never seen after_. Hence the cave was
called _Uaimh Bealach Conglais_, or the cave of the road of Cuglas
(now Baltinglass, in the County of Wicklow). It is about this cave,
nevertheless, that so many of our pretended Irish antiquarians have
written so much nonsense in connection with some imaginary pagan worship
to which they gravely assure the world, on etymological authority,
the spot was devoted. The authority for the legend of Cuglas is the
_Dinnoean Chus_ on the place _Bealach Conglais_ (Book of Lecain).
The full tale has not come down to us."
* * * * *
V
_The Herald_
"Here comes a single champion towards us, O _Cuchulain_," said _Laegh_
(Cuchulain's charioteer). "What sort of a champion is he?" said
_Cuchulain_. "A brown-haired, broad-faced, beautiful youth; a splendid
brown cloak on him; a bright bronze spear-like brooch fastening his
cloak. A full and well-fitting shirt to his skin. Two firm shoes between
his two feet and the ground. A hand-staff of white hazel in one hand
of his; a single-edged sword with a sea-horse hilt in his other
hand." "Good, my lad," said _Cuchulain_; "these are the tokens of a
herald."--Description of the herald MacRoath in the story of _The Tain
bo Chuailgné_.--O'Curry's "Manners and Customs of the Ancient Irish,"
Vol. II., p. 301.
* * * * *
VI
_Golden Bells_
In O'Curry's "Lectures on the Manners and Customs of the Ancient Irish"
are several dazzling descriptions of cavalcades taken from the old
tales. Silver and golden bells are frequently mentioned as part of the
horse furniture.
* * * * *
VII
_The Wild People of the Glen_
"And then he put on his helmet of battle and of combat and of fighting,
from every recess and from every angle of which issued the shout as it
were of an hundred warriors; because it was alike that woman of the
valley (_de bananaig_), and hobgoblins (_bacanaig_), and wild people
of the glen (_geinti glindi_), and demons of the air (_demna acoir_),
shouted in front of it, and in rear of it, and over it, and around it,
wherever he went, at the spurting of blood, and of heroes upon it."
Description of Cuchulain's helmet in the story of _The Tain bo
Chuailgné_.--O'Curry's "Manners and Customs of the Ancient Irish,"
Vol. II., p. 301.
* * * * *
VIII
_The Fair of Tara_
"The great fairs anciently held in Ireland were not like their modern
representatives, mere markets, but were assemblies of the people to
celebrate funeral games, and other religious rites; during pagan times
to hold parliaments, promulgate laws, listen to the recitation of tales
and poems, engage in or witness contests in feats of arms, horse-racing,
and other popular games. They were analogous in many ways to the
Olympian and other celebrated games of ancient Greece.
"These assemblies were regulated by a strict by-law, a breach of which
was punishable by death. Women were especially protected, a certain
place being set apart for their exclusive use, as a place was set apart
at one side of the lists of mediæval tournaments for the Queen of Beauty
and the other ladies.
"At the opening of the assembly there was always a solemn proclamation
of peace, and the king who held the fair awarded prizes to the most
successful poets, musicians, and professors and masters of every
art."--See Dr. Sullivan's "Introduction to O'Curry's Lectures."
* * * * *
IX
_The Contest of the Bards_
"The three musical feats of the _Daghda_, a celebrated Dedanann chief
and Druid, were the _Suantraighe_, which from its deep murmuring caused
sleep. The _Goltraighe_, which from its meltive plaintiveness caused
weeping, and the _Goltraighe_, which from its merriment caused laughter.
"_Bose_, the great Norse harper, could give on his harp the Gyarslager,
or stroke of the sea gods, which produced mermaids' music."--O'Curry's
Lectures.
* * * * *
X
_The Fairy Tree of Dooros_
The forest of Dooros was in the district of Hy Fiera of the Moy (now the
barony of Tireragh, in Sligo).
On a certain occasion the Dedanns, returning from a hurling match
with the Feni, passed through the forest, carrying with them for
food during the journey crimson nuts, and arbutus apples, and scarlet
quicken-berries, which they had brought from the Land of Promise. One
of the quicken-berries dropped on the earth, and the Dedanns passed
on not heeding.
From this berry a great quicken-tree sprang up, which had the virtues of
the quicken-trees that grow in fairyland. Its berries had the taste of
honey, and those who ate of them felt a cheerful glow, as if they had
drunk of wine or old mead, and if a man were even a hundred years old he
returned to the age of thirty as soon as he had eaten three of them.
The Dedanns having heard of this tree, and not wishing that anyone
should eat of the berries but themselves, sent a giant of their own
people to guard it, namely, Sharvan the Surly of Lochlann.--"The
Pursuit of Diarmuid and Grania," "Old Celtic Romances," p. 313 (Joyce).
* * * * *
XI
_The Palace of the Little Cat_
The description of the rows of jewels ranged round the wall of the
palace of the Little Cat is taken from "The Voyage of Maildun."--See
Note XII.
* * * * *
XII
_The Birds of the Mystic Lake_
The incident of the birds coming to the mystic lake is taken from
"The Voyage of Maildun," a translation of which is given in Joyce's
"Old Celtic Romances." The operations of the birds were witnessed by
Maildun and his companions, who, in the course of their wanderings, had
arrived at the Isle of the Mystic Lake. One of Maildun's companions,
Diuran, on seeing the wonder, said to the others: "Let us bathe in the
lake, and we shall obtain a renewal of our youth like the birds."
But they said: "Not so, for the bird has left the poison of his old age
and decay in the water."
_Diuran_, however, plunged in, and swam about for some time; after which
he took a little of the water and mixed it in his mouth, and in the end
he swallowed a small quantity. He then came out perfectly sound and
whole, and remained so ever after as long as he lived. But none of the
others ventured in.
The return of the birds in the character of the cormorants of the
western seas and guardians of the lake does not occur in the old tale.
The oldest copy of the voyage is in the "Book of the Dun Cow" (about the
year 1100). O'Curry says the voyage was undertaken about the year 700.
It was made by Maildun in search of pirates who had slain his father.
The story is full of fancy.