that he had. The colt was thriving well; and when twelve months were
passed, it was a pleasure to look at him. Breogan put him in a stable by
himself after that, and kept him three years. At the end of the third
year, it isn’t a little colt he was, but a grand, fiery steed. Breogan
invited all his friends and neighbors to a feast and a great merrymaking.
“This will be a good time,” thought he, “to find a man to ride the
strange colt.”
There was a splendid race-course on the seashore. The appointed day came,
and all the people were assembled. The horse was brought out, bridled
and saddled, and led to the strand. The place was so crowded that a pin
falling from the sky would not fall on any place but the head of some
person old or young, some man, woman, or child that was there at the
festival.
For three days the women of the village were cooking food for all that
would come; there was enough ready, and to spare. Breogan strove to come
at a man who would ride the horse; but not a man could he find. The horse
was so fiery that all were in dread of him.
Not to spoil sport for the people, Breogan made up his mind to ride
himself. As soon as the man mounted, and was firm in the saddle, the
horse stood on his hind-legs, rose with a leap in the air, and away with
him faster than any wind, first over the land, and then over the sea. The
horse never stopped till he came down on his fore-feet in Breasil, which
is a part of Tir nan Og (the Land of the Young).
Breogan found himself now in the finest country man could set eyes on. He
rode forward, looking on all sides with delight and pleasure, till out
before him he saw a grand castle, and a beautiful gate in front of it,
and the gate partly open.
“Well,” thought he, “I’ll go in here for a bit, to know are there people
living inside.” With that he tied the bridle to one of the bars of the
gate, and left the horse, thinking to come back in a short time. He went
to the door of the castle, and knocked on it. A woman came and opened the
door to him.
“Oh, then, a hundred thousand welcomes to you, Breogan from Brandon,”
said she.
He thanked her, and was greatly surprised when he heard her calling him
by name. She brought him then to a parlor; and, though he had fine rooms
in his own house, he hardly knew at first how to sit in this parlor, it
was that grand and splendid. He wasn’t long sitting, when who should come
in but a young woman, a beauty; the like of her he had never seen before
in his life. She was first in every way, in good looks as well as in
manners. She sat down at his side, and welcomed him.
Breogan remained in the castle a few hours, eating, drinking, talking,
and enjoying himself. At long last he thought, “I must be going;” and
then he said so.
The first woman laughed. “Well, now, my good friend,” said she, “of all
the men that ever came to this place,—and it’s many a man that came here
in my time,—there never was a worse man to care for his horse than what
you are. Your poor beast is tied to a bar of the gate outside since you
came, and you have never as much as thought that he was dry or hungry;
and if I had not thought of him, it’s in a bad state he’d be now. How
long do you think you are in this castle?”
“Oh, then, I am about seven hours in it.”
“You are in this country just seven years,” said the woman. “The beauty
and comfort of this Land of the Young is so great that the life of twelve
months seems the length of one hour in another place.”
“If I am here that long, I must be going this minute,” said Breogan.
“Well,” said the woman, “if you are going, I must ask you one question.
There will be a child in this castle; and as you are the father, ’tis you
that should name it. Now what will the name be?”
“If ’tis a son, you’ll call him Shawn, the son of Breogan, from Brandon
in Erin. You’ll rear him for seven years. At the end of that time give
him your blessing and the means of making a journey to Erin. Tell him who
I am; and if he is anything of a hero, he’ll not fail to make me out.”
Breogan left his blessing with the women, went to the gate, and found his
horse standing there, tied in the same way that he left him. He untied
the beast, mounted, and away through the air with him, leaving Breasil
behind, and never stopped nor halted till he came down about a mile from
his own house, near Brandon, exactly seven years from the day that he
left it. Seeing on the strand a great number of people, he wondered why
they were in it, and what brought them together. A large, fine-looking
man was passing the way, and Breogan called out to him: “What are these
people all doing that I see on the strand?” asked he.
“You must be a stranger,” said the man, “not to know what these people
are here for.”
“I am no stranger,” said Breogan; “but I went out of the country a few
years before this, and while I was gone there were changes.”
“If a man leaves his own country for a short time itself,” said the
other, “he will find things changed when he comes again to it. I will
tell you why these people are here. We had in this place a fine master,
and it’s good and kind he was to us. He went out to the strand one day,
walking, and found a little colt above the high tide. He took the colt
home, reared and fed him three years. Then this man gathered the people
to give them a feast, and to know could he find some one to ride the
horse. When no one would venture, he mounted himself; and all saw how the
horse rose in the air, made a leap over the harbor, and then away out of
sight. We think that he fell, and was drowned in the sea; for neither
Breogan nor the horse was seen ever after. We are sorry for the man,
because he was kind to us; but ’tis equal what became of the horse. After
waiting seven years, Breogan’s wife is to be married this evening to some
great man from the North. We don’t know what kind is he. He may destroy
us, or drive us out of our houses.”
Breogan thanked the man for his words, and hurried on toward his own
house. The servants saw him coming, knew him, and cried, “Here comes the
master!” and there was a great stir up and down in the house. Next minute
the wife heard the news; and out she ran to meet her husband. Any man
would think she was glad to see Breogan. “Why are all the people here
to-day?” asked he of the wife.
“And was not it this day seven years that you put the country behind
you, wherever you went? You left dinner here ready; and the dinner is in
the same state it was the day you went away from me. I thought it better
to send for the people again, and eat the dinner in memory of you that
prepared it.”
The husband said nothing. The people ate the dinner; and every man,
woman, and child went home satisfied.
At the end of another seven years, Breogan made a great dinner again. All
was ready; a great crowd of people were present. The day being fine, you
could see far in every direction.
“Look, now,” said Breogan, to one of his men who had very good eyesight.
“Look out toward the water, to know can you see any one coming. Seven
years ago to-day, I came home from Breasil, in the Land of the Young; and
my son, if I have one, is to be here to-day. He ought to be coming by
this time.”
The man looked out as well as he could. “I see a boat with one mast
coming toward us,” said he; “and it’s sailing faster than any boat I have
ever set eyes on. In the boat I can see only one young man; and very
young he is too.”
“Oh, that is he,” said Breogan.
The boat came in at full sail; and it wasn’t long till the youth was
standing before his father. “Who are you?” asked Breogan.
“My name is Shawn MacBreogan.”
“If that is your name, sit down here at dinner; for you are my son.”
When the feast was over, the people went home. When Breogan’s wife found
out who the boy was, she wouldn’t give the breadth of a ha’penny piece of
his body for a fortune, she was that fond of him.
Things went on well till one day when Breogan and his son were out
hunting. The day being warm, they sat down to rest; and the son said to
the father, “Since I came to you in Erin, you seem vexed in yourself. I
have not asked what trouble is on you, or is there anything amiss with
you.”
“All things are well with me but one thing,” said Breogan. “There is
some understanding between my wife and a man in the north of Erin. I’m
in dread of my life; for while I was in Breasil she saw this man, and
the day I came home they were going to be married. Since then I have not
slept soundly in bed; for messages are passing between them.”
“Very well, father, I’ll put an end to that soon,” said Shawn. He rose on
the following morning, caught his hurley in his right hand, and his ball
in the left. He threw up the ball, then struck it with the hurley, and
was driving it that way before him till he reached the north of Erin, and
never let his ball touch the ground even one time. He inquired for his
father’s opponent. When he found out the house, he knocked at the door.
“Is your master inside?” asked he.
“He is,” said the servant.
“Go,” said Shawn, “and tell him that I want him, and not to delay, as I
must be at dinner in Brandon this evening.”
The master of the house came out, and, seeing a boy there before him,
thought it strange that he should speak rudely to a man like himself. “If
you don’t beg my pardon this minute, I’ll take the head off you,” said
the man.
“Well,” said Shawn, “I am not here to beg pardon of you nor of any man;
but I came to have satisfaction for the trouble you put on my father, and
I far away from him.”
“Who is your father?”
“My father is Breogan of Brandon.”
Out the man went; and the two stood on a fine green plain, and began to
fight with swords, cutting each other’s flesh. They were not long at
the swords when Shawn said, “It is getting late, and I must be at home
before dinner to-day, as I promised; there is no use in delaying.” With
that he rose out of his body, and gave the man a blow between the head
and shoulders that put the head a mile from the body. Shawn caught the
head before it touched earth; then, grasping it by the hair, he left the
body where it fell, took his hurley in his right hand, threw his ball
in the air, and drove it far to the south with the hurley; and he drove
it across Erin in that way, the ball never touching ground from the far
north of Erin to Brandon. Holding the ball and hurley in his hand, he
went into the house, and laid the head at his father’s feet.
“Now, my dear father,” said he, “here is the head of your enemy; he’ll
trouble you no more from this out.”
When Breogan’s wife saw the head, she was cut to the heart and troubled;
though she would not let any man know it. One day when the father and son
came home from killing ducks, she was groaning, and said she was ready to
die.
“Is there any cure for you here or there in the world?” asked Shawn.
“There is no getting the cure that would heal me; there is no cure but
three apples from the white orchard in the White Nation.”
“Well,” said the boy, “I promise you not to eat the third meal at the one
table, nor sleep the second night in the one bed, till I get three apples
from the White Nation.”
The father was very angry when they came out of the bed-room. “Sure,”
said he, “it would be enough for you to risk your life for your own
mother.”
“Well, I must go now,” said Shawn; “the promise is given; I’ll not break
my word.” So away with him on the following morning; and on that day’s
journey he came to a glen, and in it a house. In the house there was no
living creature but a white mare with nine eyes.
“A hundred thousand welcomes to you, Shawn MacBreogan from Brandon. You
must be tired and hungry after the day’s journey,” cried the mare. “Go in
now to the next room, and take supper, and strengthen yourself.”
He went to the next room, and inside in it was a table, and on the table
was everything that the best king could wish for. He ate, drank, and went
then and gave a hundred thousand thanks for the supper. He stood near the
fire for a while; then the mare said, “Come here, and lie under my head;
wonder at nothing you see, and let no word out of you.”
He did as the mare said. About dusk three seals came in, and went to the
supper-room. They threw off their sealskins, and became three as fine
young men as one could look at.
“I wish Shawn MacBreogan from Brandon were here to-night. I’d be glad to
see him, and give him a present, and have his good company,” said one of
the three.
“I’d be glad to see him, too,” said the second; “and I’d give him a
present.”
“So would I,” said the third.
“Go to them now,” said the mare; “enjoy their company. In the morning
you’ll ask for the presents.”
He went out among them.
“A hundred thousand welcomes to you, Shawn MacBreogan,” cried the young
men; “and ’tis glad we are to see you.”
They drank wine then, sang songs, and told tales, and never slept a wink
all the night. Before sunrise they went as seals; and when going Shawn
said,“I hope you will not forget the presents you promised last evening.”
“We will not,” said the eldest. “Here is a cloak for you. While it is on
you, you’ll be the finest man in the world to look at.”
“Here is a ball,” said the second. “If you throw it in the air, and wish
for anything you like, you will have it before the ball comes to the
ground.”
The third gave a whistle: “When you blow this,” said he, “every enemy
that hears it will lie down asleep, and be powerless; and, besides,
you’re to have the white mare to ride.”
He took the gifts.
“Give me a feed of grain before we start,” said the mare. “No man has sat
on me without being turned into froth and blown away, or else thrown and
killed. This will not happen to you; still I must throw you three times:
but I’ll take you to a soft place where you’ll not be killed.”
Shawn mounted her then, and she tossed him. She threw him very far the
first time. He was badly shocked, but recovered. The second and third
times it was easier. The fourth time he mounted for the journey. It was
not long till he came to the seashore. On the third day he was in sight
of land in the White Nation. The mare ran over the water and swiftly,
without trouble; no bird ever went with such speed.
When Shawn came near the castle, he stopped before a house at the edge of
the town, and asked a lodging of the owner, an old man.
“I’ll give you that,” said the old man, “and welcome, and a place for
your horse.” After supper Shawn told his errand.
“I pity you,” said the man. “I am in dread you’ll lose your life; but
I’ll do what I can for you. No man has ever been able to get one of
those apples; and if a stranger is caught making up to them, the king
takes his head without mercy or pardon. There is no kind of savage beast
in the world but is guarding the apples; and there is not a minute in the
night or the day when some of the beasts are not watching.”
“Do you know what virtue is in the apples?” asked Shawn.
“I do well,” said the old man; “and it’s I that would like to have one
of them. If a man is sick, and eats even one bite of an apple, he’ll be
well; if old, he’ll grow young again, and never know grief from that out;
he will always be happy and healthy. I’ll give you a pigeon to let loose
in the orchard; she will go flying from one tree to another till she
goes to the last one. All the beasts will follow her; and while they are
hunting the pigeon, you will take what you can of the apples: but I hope
you will not think it too much to give one to me.”
“Never fear,” said Shawn, “if I get one apple, you’ll have the half of
it; if two, you’ll have one of them.”
The old man was glad. Next morning at daybreak Shawn took the pigeon,
mounted the mare, and away with him then to the orchard. When the pigeon
flew in, and was going from tree to tree with a flutter, the beasts
started after her. Shawn sprang in on the back of the mare, left her, and
went to climb the first tree that he met for the apples; but the king’s
men were at him before he could touch a single apple, or go back to the
mare. They caught him, and took him to the king. The mare sprang over the
wall, and ran to the house of the old man. Shawn told the king his whole
story, said that his father was Breogan of Brandon, and his mother the
Princess of Breasil in the Land of the Young.
“Oh,” said the king, “you are the hero that I am waiting for this long
time. A fine part of my kingdom is that island beyond; but ’tis taken by
a giant who holds it with an army of hirelings. Clear that island of the
giant and his men, bring me his head, and you’ll have the apples.”
Shawn went to the old man, then to the mare, and told her.
“You can do that without trouble,” said she; “you have the power needed
to do it.”
Shawn took his breakfast, then sat on the mare, and rode toward the
island. Just before the mare touched the land, Shawn sounded the whistle;
and every one who heard it was asleep the next instant. Shawn took his
sword then, swept the head off the giant, and before evening there
wasn’t a man alive on the island except Shawn himself. He tied the
giant’s head to the saddle-bow, mounted the mare, and was ready to start,
when she spoke to him: “Be careful not to look back toward the island
till you come down from my back.” With that she swept on, and soon they
were nearing the castle. While crossing the yard, Shawn thought, “I have
the island cleared; the head is safe on me; and the apples are mine.”
With that he forgot the mare’s words, and turned to look back at the
island; but as he did, he fell from the saddle, and where should he fall
but down on a dust-heap. A son of the comb woman, a youth who fed dogs
and small animals, was lying there at the time, and he sickly and full of
sores. Shawn’s cloak slipped from his shoulders, and fell on this dirty,
foul fellow; that moment he sprang up the finest-looking man in the
kingdom. He fastened the cloak on his shoulders, mounted the white mare,
and rode to the castle. The king was that glad when he looked at the head
of the giant that he didn’t know where to put the counterfeit hero who
brought it.
“How did you clear the island?” asked the king; “and was it a hard task
to take the head off the giant?”
“Oh, then,” said the dog-feeder, “there was never such a battle in the
world as the battle to-day on that island between myself and the giant
with his forces; and ’tis well I earned what will come to me.”
“You’ll get good pay,” said the king; “I promised you apples from my
white orchard; but I’ll give you more, I’ll give you my youngest daughter
in marriage, and that island for her portion. My daughter will not be of
age to marry for a year and a day. Till that time is out, you’ll live
with me here in the castle.”
Believe me, the dog-feeder was a great man in his own mind that evening.
There was one woman in the yard who saw the deception, and that was the
henwife. She knew well what the dog-feeder was, and ’tis often she said,
“He’s the greatest liar on earth, and kind mother for him.” She drew
Shawn into her own house, and he sick and full of sores, just like the
dog-feeder, not a man in the world would have known him. She nursed and
tended Shawn. On the sixth day he was able to speak; but he lay in great
weakness, and covered with sores.
“How am I to be cured?” asked he of the henwife.
“I know,” answered she; “I spoke to a wise woman to-day, and got the
right cure for you.” With that the henwife went down to a spring that
belonged to the king’s youngest daughter, and pulled up nine rushes
growing near it. Three of these she threw away, and kept six of them. She
cut the white from the green parts, crushed them in water, gave Shawn
some of the water to drink, and rubbed the rest on his body. A week was
not gone, when he was as sound and well as ever.
Shawn heard now the whole story of the dog-feeder’s lies and prosperity.
He took service himself in the castle; and a few days after that the king
gave a hunt, and invited all the guests in the castle to go with him.
Shawn had to go as a basket-boy, and carry provisions like any servant.
Toward evening, when the company were on a wild moor twenty miles from
the castle, a thick mist fell, and all were afraid that their lives would
be gone from them.
“I can take you to a castle,” said Shawn.
“Take us,” said the king.
“I will if you will give me your daughter to marry.”
“She is promised to another,” said the king.
“I have the best right to her,” said Shawn. “It was I cleared the island.”
“I don’t believe you,” said the king.
“We’ll be lost, every man of us,” said the chief hunter; “give him the
promise, he may be dead before the day of the wedding.”
The king gave his promise. The basket-boy stepped behind a great rock,
threw up the ball, and wished for the finest castle on earth. Before the
ball touched the ground the king, the guests, and attendants were in a
castle far finer than any they had looked on in daylight or seen in a
dream. The best food and drink of all kinds were in it, shining chambers
and beds of silk and gold. When all had eaten and drunk their fill, they
fell asleep to sweet music, and slept soundly till morning. At daybreak
each man woke up, and found himself lying on the wild moor, a tuft of
rushes under his head, and the gray sky above him. Glad to see light,
they rose and went home.
Now the henwife told the king’s daughter the story of Shawn, who had
cleared out the island, and the comb-woman’s son, the deceiver. When the
year was ended, and the day came for the marriage, the king’s daughter
said she would marry no man but the man who would ride the white mare
with nine eyes (the mare could either kill or make froth of a man). The
comb-woman’s son was the first man to mount; but the cloak fell from him,
and he vanished in froth blown away by the wind, and no one saw sight of
him from that day to this. Sixteen king’s sons tried to ride the white
mare, and were killed every man of them; but their bodies were found.
Shawn, who had taken the cloak, sat on the mare, and rode three times
past the castle. At the door the mare knelt for him to come down.
The king’s daughter would have jumped through her window, and killed
herself, if her maids had not held her. She rushed down the stairs,
kissed Shawn, and embraced him. The wedding began then. It lasted for a
day and a year, and the last was the best day of all.
When the wedding was over, Shawn remembered the mare, and went to the
stable. She had not been fed, and a white skin was all that was left of
her. When Shawn came to the mare’s place, three young men and two women
were playing chess in it.
“Oh, I forgot the mare from the first day of the wedding till this
moment,” said Shawn; and he began to cry.
“Why are you crying?” asked the elder of the two women.
He told the reason.
“You needn’t cry,” said the woman; “I can revive her.” With that she took
the skin, put it on herself; and that minute she was the white mare.
“Would you rather see me a white mare as I am now, or the woman that I
was a minute ago?”
“The woman,” said Shawn.
She took off the skin, and was a woman again. She told him then how the
king, her father, made three seals of her brothers and a white mare of
herself, to be in those forms till a hero should come who could clear
out the island. “You cleared the island,” said she; “and we are all free
again.”
The king gave the island to his son-in-law, and as many apples from the
orchard as he wished. The first thing that Shawn did was to take an apple
to the old man who gave him lodgings when he came to the White Nation.
At the first bite he swallowed, the old man was twenty-one years of age,
young and hearty, and so happy that it would do any man good to have one
look at him.
Shawn and his young wife lived another day and a year with her father,
and then they went to visit his father in Brandon. From pretending to be
sick, Breogan’s wife became sick in earnest, and died. Breogan himself
was now old and dissatisfied.
“The least I can do,” thought Shawn, “is to give him an apple.” He gave
him the apple. Breogan ate it, was twenty-one years of age; and if ever a
man was glad in Erin, ’twas he was.
Shawn left the father young and happy at Brandon, and went back himself
with his wife to the island.
THE COTTER’S SON AND THE HALF SLIM CHAMPION.
Once upon a time there was a poor cotter in Erin, and he had three sons.
Whether it was well or ill that he reared them, he reared them, and then
died. When their father was dead and buried, the three sons lived with
their mother for a day and a year; and at the end of that time the eldest
brother said, “I will go to seek my fortune in the world.”
He took his mother’s blessing with him, and went away on the following
morning.
The two sons and the mother lived on together for another day and a year,
when the second son said, “I will go out to seek my fortune.”
He went away like the first brother.