my grief that you are in it, and not at the right time.”
Micky Mor heard her, and he, between sleeping and waking, gave one leap
from his body when he heard Eilin Og’s words, and stopped at the door.
It would have been a greater task to break any anvil or block made by
blacksmith or wood-worker, than to force the Big Fool from the door.
“Micky Mor,” said the Gruagach, disguised, “let me out.”
“I will not let you out till the Gruagach of Dun an Oir comes home, and
then you will pay for the kiss that you took from his wife.”
“I will give you a leg swift and strong as your own was; it is a leg I
took from the Knight of the Cross when he was entering his ship.”
“If you give me one of my legs swift and strong as ever, perhaps I may
let you go out.”
That moment the Fool got the leg. He jumped up then, and said, “This is
my own leg, as strong and as active as ever.
“The other leg now, or your head!” said Micky Mor.
The Gruagach gave him the other leg, blew it under him with power of
enchantment. Micky Mor jumped up. “These are my own legs in strength and
activity. You’ll not go out of this now till the Gruagach comes, and you
pay for the kiss you took from his wife.”
“I have no wish to knock a trial out of you,” said the Gruagach, and he
changed himself into his own form again. “You see who I am; and I am the
huntsman who took your legs with the drink that you got from the cup, and
I am your own brother born and bred.”
“Where were you,” asked the Big Fool, “when my father was killed with all
his men?”
“I was in the Eastern World at that time, learning enchantment and magic.”
“If you are my brother,” said the Big Fool, “we will go with each other
forevermore. Come with me now to such a wood. We will fight there four
giants who are doing great harm to our people these many years.”
“Dear brother,” said the Gruagach, “there is no use for us to go against
the four giants; they are too powerful and strong for us, they will kill
us.”
“Let me fight with three of them,” said Micky Mor, “and I’ll not leave a
foot or a hand of them living on earth; you can settle one.”
The Gruagach had his great stallion of the road brought from the stable
for himself and his brother to ride. When they led him out, the stallion
gave three neighs,—a neigh of lamentation, a neigh of loyalty, and a
neigh of gladness.
This stallion had the three qualities of Fin MacCool’s slim bay steed,—a
keen rush against a hill, a swift run on the level, a high running leap;
three qualities of the fox,—the gait of a fox gay and proud, a look
straight ahead taking in both sides and turning to no side, neat in his
tread on the road; three qualities of a bull,—a full eye, a thick neck, a
bold forehead.
They rode to the forest of the giants; and the moment they entered, the
giants sniffed them, and one of them cried out, “I find the smell of men
from Erin, their livers and lights for my supper of nights, their blood
for my morning dram, their jawbones for stepping-stones, and their shins
for hurleys. We think you are too big for one bite and too small for two
bites, and sooner or later we’ll have you out of the way.”
The Big Fool and three of the giants made at one another then; and he
didn’t leave a hand nor a foot of the three alive. He stood looking then
at his brother and the other giant. The young Gruagach was getting too
much from the giant; and he called out, “Dear born brother, give me some
aid, or the giant will put me out of the world.”
“I will give him,” said the Big Fool, “a blow of my fist that will drive
his head through the air.”
He ran to him then, gave the giant one blow under the jawbone, and sent
his head through the air. It is not known to man, woman, or child to this
day where the head stopped, or did it stop in any place.
THE KING’S SON AND THE WHITE-BEARDED SCOLOG.
Not in our time, nor the time of our fathers, but long ago, there lived
an old king in Erin. This king had but the one son, and the son had risen
up to be a fine strong hero; no man in the kingdom could stand before him
in combat.
The queen was dead, and the king was gloomy and bitter in himself because
old age was on him. The strength had gone from his limbs, and gladness
from his heart. No matter what people said, they could not drive sorrow
from him.
One day the king called up his son, and this is what he said to him, “You
are of age to marry. We cannot tell how long I’ll be here, and it would
cheer and delight me to see your wife; she might be a daughter to me in
my last days.”
“I am willing to obey you,” said the son; “but I know no woman that I
care for. I have never seen any one that I would marry.”
With that, the old king sent for a druid, and said, “You must tell where
my son can find the right bride for himself. You must tell us what woman
he should marry.”
“There is but one woman,” said the druid, “who can be the right wife for
your son, and she is the youngest daughter of the white-bearded scolog;
she is the wisest young woman in the world, and has the most power.”
“Where does her father live, and how are we to settle it?” asked the king
of the druid.
“I have no knowledge of the place where that scolog lives,” said the
druid, “and there is no one here who knows. Your son must go himself, and
walk the world till he finds the young woman. If he finds her and gets
her, he’ll have the best bride that ever came to a king’s son.”
“I am willing to go in search of the scolog’s daughter,” said the young
man, “and I’ll never stop till I find her.”
With that, he left his father and the druid, and never stopped till he
went to his foster-mother and told her the whole story,—told her the wish
of his father, and the advice the old druid had given him.
“My three brothers live on the road you must travel,” said the
foster-mother; “and the eldest one knows how to find that scolog, but
without the friendship of all of them, you’ll not be able to make the
journey. I’ll give you something that will gain their good-will for you.”
With that, she went to an inner room, and made three cakes of flour and
baked them. When the three were ready, she brought them out, and gave
them to the young man.
“When you come to my youngest brother’s castle,” said she, “he will rush
at you to kill you, but do you strike him on the breast with one of the
cakes; that minute he’ll be friendly, and give you good entertainment.
The second brother and the eldest will meet you like the youngest.”
On the following morning, the king’s son left a blessing with his
foster-mother, took one for the road from her, and went away carrying the
three cakes with him. He travelled that day with great swiftness over
hills and through valleys, past great towns and small villages, and never
stopped nor stayed till he came in the evening to a very large castle. In
he went, and inside was a woman before him.
“God save you!” said he to the woman.
“God save yourself!” said she; “and will you tell me what brought you the
way, and where are you going?”
“I came here,” said the king’s son, “to see the giant of this castle, and
to speak with him.”
“Be said by me,” replied the woman, “and go away out of this without
waiting for the giant.”
“I will not go without seeing him,” said the king’s son. “I have never
set eyes on a giant, and I’ll see this one.”
“I pity you,” said the woman; “your time is short in this life. You’ll
not be long without seeing the giant, and it’s not much you’ll see in
this world after setting eyes on him; and it would be better for you to
take a drink of wine to give you strength before he comes.”
The king’s son had barely swallowed the wine when he heard a great noise
beyond the castle.
“Fee, faw, foh!” roared some one, in a thundering voice.
The king’s son looked out; and what should he see but the giant with a
shaggy goat going out in front of him and another coming on behind, a
dead hag above on his shoulder, a great hog of a wild boar under his left
arm, and a yellow flea on the club which he held in his right hand before
him.
“I don’t know will I blow you into the air or put my foot on you,” said
the giant, when he set eyes on the king’s son. With that, he threw his
load to the ground, and was making at his visitor to kill him when the
young man struck the giant on the breast with one of the three cakes
which he had from the foster-mother.
That minute the giant knew who was before him, and called out, “Isn’t it
the fine welcome I was giving my sister’s son from Erin?”
With that, he changed entirely, and was so glad to see the king’s son
that he didn’t know what to do for him or where to put him. He made a
great feast that evening; the two ate and drank with contentment and
delight. The giant was so pleased with the king’s son that he took him
to his own bed. He wasn’t three minutes in the bed when he was sound
asleep and snoring. With every breath that the giant took in, he drew
the king’s son into his mouth and as far as the butt of his tongue; with
every breath that he sent out, he drove him to the rafters of the castle,
and the king’s son was that way going up and down between the bed and the
roof until daybreak, when the giant let a breath out of him, and closed
his mouth; next moment the king’s son was down on his lips.
“What are you doing to me?” cried the giant.
“Nothing,” said the king’s son; “but you didn’t let me close an eye all
the night. With every breath you let out of you, you drove me up to the
rafters; and with every breath you took in, you drew me into your mouth
and as far as the butt of your tongue.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“How could I wake you when time failed me to do it?”
“Oh, then, sister’s son from Erin,” said the giant, “it’s the poor
night’s rest I gave you; but if you had a bad bed, you must have a good
breakfast.”
With that, the giant rose, and the two ate the best breakfast that could
be had out of Erin.
After breakfast, the king’s son took the giant’s blessing with him, and
left his own behind. He travelled all that day with great speed and
without halt or rest, till he came in the evening to the castle of the
second giant. In front of the door was a pavement of sharp razors, edges
upward, a pavement which no man could walk on. Long, poisonous needles,
set as thickly as bristles in a brush, were fixed, points downward, under
the lintel of the door, and the door was low.
The king’s son went in with one start over the razors and under the
needles, without grazing his head or cutting his feet. When inside, he
saw a woman before him.
“God save you!” said the king’s son.
“God save yourself!” said the woman.
The same conversation passed between them then as passed between himself
and the woman in the first castle.
“God help you!” said the woman, when she heard his story. “’Tis not
long you’ll be alive after the giant comes. Here’s a drink of wine to
strengthen you.”
Barely had he the wine swallowed when there was a great noise behind
the castle, and the next moment the giant came in with a thundering and
rattling.
“Who is this that I see?” asked he, and with that, he sprang at the
stranger to put the life out of him; but the king’s son struck him on the
breast with the second cake which he got from his foster-mother. That
moment the giant knew him, and called out, “A strange welcome I had for
you, sister’s son from Erin, but you’ll get good treatment from me now.”
The giant and the king’s son made three parts of that night. One part
they spent in telling tales, the second in eating and drinking, and the
third in sound, sweet slumber.
Next morning the young man went away after breakfast, and never stopped
till he came to the castle of the third giant; and a beautiful castle
it was, thatched with the down of cotton grass, the roof was as white
as milk, beautiful to look at from afar or near by. The third giant was
as angry at meeting him as the other two; but when he was struck in the
breast with the third cake, he was as kind as the best man could be.
When they had taken supper together, the giant said to his sister’s son,
“Will you tell me what journey you are on?”
“I will, indeed,” said the king’s son; and he told his whole story from
beginning to end.
“It is well that you told me,” said the giant, “for I can help you; and
if you do what I tell, you’ll finish your journey in safety. At midday
to-morrow you’ll come to a lake; hide in the rushes that are growing
at one side of the water. You’ll not be long there when twelve swans
will alight near the rushes and take the crests from their heads; with
that, the swan skins will fall from them, and they will rise up the most
beautiful women that you have ever set eyes on. When they go in to bathe,
take the crest of the youngest, put it in your bosom next the skin, take
the eleven others and hold them in your hand. When the young women come
out, give the eleven crests to their owners; but when the twelfth comes,
you’ll not give her the crest unless she carries you to her father’s
castle in Ardilawn Dreeachta (High Island of Enchantment). She will
refuse, and say that strength fails her to carry you, and she will beg
for the crest. Be firm, and keep it in your bosom; never give it up till
she promises to take you. She will do that when she sees there is no help
for it.”
Next morning the king’s son set out after breakfast, and at midday he was
hidden in the rushes. He was barely there when the swans came. Everything
happened as the giant had said, and the king’s son followed his counsels.
When the twelve swans came out of the lake, he gave the eleven crests
to the older ones, but kept the twelfth, the crest of the youngest, and
gave it only when she promised to carry him to her father’s. The moment
she put the crest on her head, she was in love with the king’s son. When
she came in sight of the island, however much she loved him when they
started from the lakeside, she loved him twice as much now. She came to
the ground at some distance from the castle, and said to the young man at
parting,—
“Thousands of kings’ sons and champions have come to give greeting to
my father at the door of his castle, but every man of them perished.
You will be saved if you obey me. Stand with your right foot inside the
threshold and your left foot outside; put your head under the lintel. If
your head is inside, my father will cut it from your shoulders; if it is
outside, he will cut it off also. If it is under the lintel when you cry
‘God save you!’ he’ll let you go in safety.”
They parted there; she went to her own place and he went to the scolog’s
castle, put his right foot inside the threshold, his left foot outside,
and his head under the lintel. “God save you!” called he to the scolog.
“A blessing on you!” cried the scolog, “but my curse on your teacher.
I’ll give you lodgings to-night, and I’ll come to you myself in the
morning;” and with that he sent a servant with the king’s son to a
building outside. The servant took a bundle of straw with some turf and
potatoes, and, putting these down inside the door, said, “Here are bed,
supper, and fire for you.”
The king’s son made no use of food or bed, and he had no need of them,
for the scolog’s daughter came soon after, spread a cloth, took a small
bundle from her pocket, and opened it. That moment the finest food and
drink were there before them.
The king’s son ate and drank with relish, and good reason he had after
the long journey. When supper was over, the young woman whittled a small
shaving from a staff which she brought with her; and that moment the
finest bed that any man could have was there in the room.
“I will leave you now,” said she; “my father will come early in the
morning to give you a task. Before he comes, turn the bed over; ’twill be
a shaving again, and then you can throw it into the fire. I will make you
a new bed to-morrow.”
With that, she went away, and the young man slept till daybreak. Up he
sprang, then turned the bed over, made a shaving of it, and burned it.
It was not long till the scolog came, and this is what he said to the
king’s son, “I have a task for you to-day, and I hope you will be able to
do it. There is a lake on my land not far from this, and a swamp at one
side of it. You are to drain that lake and dry the swamp for me, and have
the work finished this evening; if not, I will take the head from you
at sunset. To drain the lake, you are to dig through a neck of land two
miles in width; here is a good spade, and I’ll show you the place where
you’re to use it.”
The king’s son went with the scolog, who showed the ground, and then left
him.
“What am I to do?” said the king’s son. “Sure, a thousand men couldn’t
dig that land out in ten years, and they working night and day; how am I
to do it between this and sunset?”
However it was, he began to dig; but if he did, for every sod he threw
out, seven sods came in, and soon he saw that, in place of mending his
trouble, ’twas making it worse he was. He cast aside the spade then, sat
down on the sod heap, and began to lament. He wasn’t long there when the
scolog’s daughter came with a cloth in her hand and the small bundle in
her pocket.
“Why are you lamenting there like a child?” asked she of the king’s son.
“Why shouldn’t I lament when the head will be taken from me at sunset?”
“’Tis a long time from this to sunset. Eat your breakfast first of all;
see what will happen then,” said she. Taking out the little bundle, she
put down before him the best breakfast a man could have. While he was
eating, she took the spade, cut out one sod, and threw it away. When she
did that, every spadeful of earth in the neck of land followed the first
spadeful; the whole neck of land was gone, and before midday there wasn’t
a spoonful of water in the lake or the swamp,—the whole place was dry.
“You have your head saved to-day, whatever you’ll do to-morrow,” said
she, and she left him.
Toward evening the scolog came, and, meeting the king’s son, cried out,
“You are the best man that ever came the way, or that ever I expected to
look at.”
The king’s son went to his lodging. In the evening the scolog’s daughter
came with supper, and made a bed for him as good as the first one. Next
morning the king’s son rose at daybreak, destroyed his bed, and waited to
see what would happen.
The scolog came early, and said, “I have a field outside, a mile long
and a mile wide, with a very tall tree in the middle of it. Here are two
wedges, a sharp axe, and a fine new drawing knife. You are to cut down
the tree, and make from it barrels to cover the whole field. You are to
make the barrels and fill them with water before sunset, or the head will
be taken from you.”
The king’s son went to the field, faced the tree, and gave it a blow with
his axe; but if he did, the axe bounded back from the trunk, struck him
on the forehead, stretched him on the flat of his back, and raised a lump
on the place where it hit him. He gave three blows, was served each time
in the same way, and had three lumps on his forehead. He was rising from
the third blow, the life almost gone from him, and he crying bitterly,
when the scolog’s daughter came with his breakfast. While he was eating
the breakfast, she struck one little chip from the tree; that chip became
a barrel, and then the whole tree turned into barrels, which took their
places in rows, and covered the field. Between the rows there was just
room for a man to walk. Not a barrel but was filled with water. From a
chip she had in her hand, the young woman made a wooden dipper, from
another chip she made a pail, and said to the king’s son,—
“You’ll have these in your two hands, and be walking up and down between
the rows of barrels, putting a little water into this and a little into
that barrel. When my father comes, he will see you at the work and invite
you to the castle to-night, but you are not to go with him. You will
say that you are content to lodge to-night where you lodged the other
nights.” With that, she went away, and the king’s son was going around
among the barrels pouring a little water into one and another of them,
when the scolog came.
“You have the work done,” said he, “and you must come to the castle for
the night.”
“I am well satisfied to lodge where I am, and to sleep as I slept since I
came here,” said the young man, and the scolog left him.
The young woman brought the supper, and gave a fresh bed. Next morning
the scolog came the third time, and said, “Come with me now; I have a
third task for you.” With that, the two went to a quarry.
“Here are tools,” said the scolog, pointing to a crowbar, a pickaxe, a
trowel, and every implement used in quarrying and building. “You are to
quarry stones to-day, and build between this and sunset the finest and
largest castle in the world, with outhouses and stables, with cellars and
kitchens. There must be cooks, with men and women to serve; there must
be dishes and utensils of every kind and furniture of every description;
not a thing is to be lacking, or the head will go from you this evening
at sunset.”
The scolog went home; and the king’s son began to quarry with crowbar and
pickaxe, and though he worked hard, the morning was far gone when he had
three small pieces of stone quarried. He sat down to lament.
“Why are you lamenting this morning?” asked the scolog’s daughter, who
came now with his breakfast.
“Why shouldn’t I lament when the head will be gone from me this evening?
I am to quarry stones, and build the finest castle in the world before
sunset. Ten thousand men couldn’t do the work in ten years.”
“Take your breakfast,” said the young woman; “you’ll see what to do after
that.”
While he was eating, she quarried one stone; and the next moment every
stone in the quarry that was needed took its place in the finest and
largest castle ever built, with outhouses and cellars and kitchens. A
moment later, all the people were there, men and women, with utensils
of all kinds. Everything was finished but a small spot at the principal
fireplace.
“The castle is ready,” said the scolog’s daughter; “your head will stay
with you to-day, and there are no more tasks before you at present. Here
is a trowel and mortar; you will be finishing this small spot at the fire
when my father comes. He will invite you to his castle to-night, and you
are to go with him this time. After dinner, he will seat you at a table,
and throw red wheat on it from his pocket. I have two sisters older than
I am; they and I will fly in and alight on the table in the form of three
pigeons, and we’ll be eating the wheat; my father will tell you to choose
one of his three daughters to marry. You’ll know me by this: there will
be a black quill in one of my wings. I’ll show it; choose me.”
All happened as the scolog’s daughter said; and when the king’s son was
told to make his choice in the evening, he chose the pigeon that he
wanted. The three sprang from the table, and when they touched the floor,
they were three beautiful women. A dish priest and a wooden clerk were
brought to the castle, and the two were married that evening.
A month passed in peace and enjoyment; but the king’s son wished to go
back now to Erin to his father. He told the wife what he wanted; and this
is what she said to him, “My father will refuse you nothing. He will
tell you to go, though he doesn’t wish to part with you. He will give you
his blessing; but this is all pretence, for he will follow us to kill us.
You must have a horse for the journey, and the right horse. He will send
a man with you to three fields. In the first field are the finest horses
that you have ever laid eyes on; take none of them. In the second field
are splendid horses, but not so fine as in the first field; take none of
these either. In the third field, in the farthest corner, near the river,
is a long-haired, shaggy, poor little old mare; take that one. The old
mare is my mother. She has great power, but not so much as my father, who
made her what she is, because she opposed him. I will meet you beyond the
hill, and we shall not be seen from the castle.”
The king’s son brought the mare; and when they mounted her, wings came
from her sides, and she was the grandest steed ever seen. Away she flew
over mountains, hills, and valleys, till they came to the seashore, and
then they flew over the sea.
When the servant man went home, and the scolog knew what horse they had
chosen, he turned himself and his two daughters into red fire, and shot
after the couple. No matter how swiftly the mare moved, the scolog
travelled faster, and was coming up. When the three reached the opposite
shore of the sea, the daughter saw her father coming, and turned the
mare into a small boat, the king’s son into a fisherman, and made a
fishing-rod of herself. Soon the scolog came, and his two daughters with
him.
“Have you seen a man and a woman passing the way riding on a mare?” asked
he of the fisherman.
“I have,” said the fisherman. “You’ll soon overtake them.”