of Grainne, and were living in enchantment; should she get the tallow of
each ox by itself and entire, she would bring back the three brothers to
life, and they would destroy all the Fenians of Erin. We will hang up
the tallow in the smoke of the Black-Blue Giant’s chimney; it will lose
some of itself there. When she gets it, it will not have full weight. We
will change your beds and your tables while you are waiting, so as to
observe the injunction. You must do this; for if you do not make an end
of Grainne, Grainne will make an end of you.”
All was done as the forester said. At the end of a week, when Faolan and
his friend were setting out for Erin, the giant and his wife fell to
weeping and wailing after their daughter, who was going with Dyeermud.
“We will come back again soon,” said Dyeermud, “and then will have a
great feast for this marriage.”
“It is here that I will have my marriage feast, too,” said Faolan.
The forester, who was an old man, said perhaps he might have a marriage
feast at that time as well as the others. At this they all laughed.
The giant and his wife were then satisfied; and the company set out for
the forester’s cabin. When they reached the cabin, the forester said to
Dyeermud, “As I served you, I hope that you will do me a good turn.”
“I will do you a good turn,” said Dyeermud, “if I lose my life in doing
it.”
“Cut off my head,” said the forester.
“I will not,” replied Dyeermud.
“Well,” said the old man, “if you do not, you will leave me in great
distress; for I, too, am under enchantment, and there is no power to save
me unless you, Dyeermud, cut off my head with the sword that killed the
oldest of the oxen.”
When Dyeermud saw how he could serve the forester, he cut off his head
with one blow, and there rose up before him a young man of twenty-one
years.
“My name is Arthur, son of Deara,” said the young man to Dyeermud; “I was
enchanted by my stepmother, and I am in love with your sister since I
saw her two years ago on Ventry Strand, when you were in combat with the
Champion of the Eastern World. Will you let your sister marry me?”
“I will,” replied Dyeermud; “and she will not marry any man but the one
that I will choose for her.”
“I helped Faolan,” said Arthur, “in all his struggles, except that
against the Dun Ox.”
Next day all went to the castle of the four champions and their sister,
and, leaving the women in that place, they set out for Erin.
When the Fenians of Erin saw them sailing in toward Ventry Strand, they
raised three shouts of joyous welcome. Whoever was glad, or was not
glad, Grainne was glad, because there was an end, as she thought, to
her suffering. Indeed, she would not have lived at all had she kept the
injunctions, but she did not; she received meat and eggs on Sliav Iolar
from all the women who took pity on her and went to visit her. So when
she got the tallow, she weighed it, and finding it some ounces short,
gave out three piercing wails of distress, and when Dyeermud, who was of
fiery temper, saw that Faolan was not willing to punish the woman, he
raised his own sword, and swept the head off her.
Fin embraced Faolan and welcomed him. Dyeermud went to his mother and
sister.
“Will you marry a young champion whom I have brought with me?” asked he
of the sister.
“I will marry no one,” said she, “but the man you will choose for me.”
“Very well,” said Dyeermud, “there is such a man outside.” He led her
out, and she and Arthur were well pleased with each other.
Dyeermud, with his sister and Arthur and Faolan, set out on the following
day, and never stopped nor stayed till they reached the castle of the
four champions and their sister; and, taking Faolan’s betrothed and
Dyeermud along with them, they travelled on till they stopped at the
castle of the Black-Blue Giant. Faolan’s mother was there before him; and
glad was she, and rejoiced, to see her own son.
There were three weddings in one at the castle of the giant: Arthur and
Dyeermud’s sister; Faolan and the sister of the four champions; Dyeermud
and the daughter of the Black-Blue Giant.
When the feasting was over, Faolan’s mother called him, and asked, “Will
you go to my kingdom, which is yours by inheritance, the country of the
Dark Men, and rule there?”
“I will,” said Faolan, “on condition that I am to be sent for if ever the
Fenians should need my assistance.” He then gave his share in the land of
the wild hag, and his claim to the castles of the Cat of Gray Fort, the
Kitten of Cul MacKip, and the Dun Ox, to Arthur and Dyeermud, and these
two shared those places between them. They attended Faolan and his wife
to the country of the Dark Men, and then returned. Faolan’s mother went
to Fintra, and lived with Fin MacCool.
FIN MACCOOL, THE HARD GILLA, AND THE HIGH KING.
On a day when the Fenians were living at Fintra, Fin MacCool called them
together, held a council, complained of remissness, and warned the men to
be cautious, to keep a better watch on the harbors, and to take good care
of their arms. They promised to do better in future, and asked Fin to
forgive them for that time. Fin forgave them, and sent men to keep watch
on Cruach Varhin.
When on the mountain awhile, the chief sentry saw, in the distance, a man
leading a horse toward Fintra. He thought to run down with word to Fin,
but did not; he waited to see what kind of person was coming. The man
leading the horse was far from being tidy: his shoes were untied, and the
strings hanging down; on his shoulders was a mantle, flapping around in
the wind. The horse had a broad, surly face; his neck was thick at the
throat, and thin toward the body: the beast was scrawny, long-legged,
lean, thin-maned, and ugly to look at. The only bridle on the horse was
a long, heavy chain; the whip in the hand of the man was a strong iron
staff. Each blow that the man gave his steed was heard through the glens
and the mountains, and knocked echoes out of every cliff in that region.
Each pull that the man gave the bridle was that strong, that you would
think he’d tear the head off the ugly beast’s body. Every clump of earth
that the horse rooted up with his feet, in striving to hold back, was
three times the size of a sod of turf ready for burning.
“It is time for me now,” said the watchman, at last, “to hurry from this,
and tell Fin,” and with that he rushed down from Cruach Varhin.
Fin saw him coming, and was ready for his story; and not too soon was it
told; for just then the horseman came up to the King of the Fenians at
Fintra.
“Who are you?” inquired Fin.
“I do not know who my father was,” said the stranger. “I am of one place
as well as another. Men call me the Hard Gilla; and it is a good name:
for no matter how well people treat me I forget all they do. I have
heard, though, that you give most wages, and best treatment of any man.”
“I will give you good wages,” said Fin, “and fair treatment; but how much
do you want of me?”
“I want whatever I ask.”
“I will give you that and more, if I promise,” said Fin.
“I am your man,” said the Gilla. “Now that we have agreed, I may let my
horse out to graze, I suppose?”
“You may,” answered Fin.
The Gilla untied the chain bridle from his horse, and struck him with
the chain. The beast went to the other horses; but if he did, he fell to
eating the mane, legs, ears, and tail of each one of them, and ate all
till he came to a steed grazing apart, and this steed belonged to Conan
Maol. Conan ran, caught the ugly old horse by the skull, and pulled him
up to his owner.
“Mind your wicked old cripple!” cried Conan, in anger.
“If any man does not like how my horse feeds, he may herd the good steed
himself.”
When Conan heard this insolence, he went to the adviser for counsel. The
adviser told him to go upon the back of the horse, and to ride till he
broke him. Conan mounted the horse; but not a stir could he get from the
stubborn beast.
“He is used to heavy loads,” said the adviser. “Let others mount with
you.”
The Fenians were mounting the horse till twenty-eight men of them went up
with Conan. The twenty-nine began then to wallop the horse, but could
not raise a stir out of him. The old horse only cocked one ear. When the
Gilla saw the twenty-nine on his horse, he called out, “It seems that we
do not agree; and the sooner I go from this place the better.”
He tightened his cloak, flapping loose on his body, tied his shoes, and
said, “In place of praising, I will dispraise you.” Then he went in
front of the horse. The horse raised his tail and his head, and between
his tail and his neck he held the men firmly. Some tried to jump off,
but were as secure on the horse as his own skin. Conan was the first to
speak. When he saw that he could not spring from the horse, he turned to
Fin, and cried out, “I bind you, O Fin, not to eat two meals off the one
table, or sleep two nights on the one bed, till you have me freed from
this serpent.”
When Fin and the Fenians heard this, they looked at one another. The
adviser spoke then, and said, “There is no time for delay. We have here a
man to follow, and he is Leeagawn of Lúachar Garv.”
Fin called Leeagawn, and he went after the steed quickly, caught him
at the edge of the strand, and seized him by the tail; but if he did,
he grew fast to the tail of the horse, and was pulled forward to the
strand. He tried to loose himself from the tail, but no use for him to
try. The horse drew him into the water. The sea opened before the strange
steed, and closed behind. The Gilla ran in front. Twenty-nine men were on
the back of the horse, and one fixed to his tail.
Fin and the Fenians were greatly distressed at the sight, but could give
no assistance. They held council; and the druid said, “There is an old
ship in Ben Eadan; put that ship in repair, and sail after the steed.”
“Let us go,” said the Fenians, “for the ship.”
As they were making ready to start, two young champions hurried up to
Fin, and saluted him.
“Who are ye?” asked Fin, returning the salute; “and whither are ye going?”
“We are the two sons of a king,” replied they; “each has a gift, and we
have come to you to know which is the better gift to live by. The two
gifts are two powers left us by our father.”
“What is your power?” asked Fin of the elder brother.
“Do you see this branch?” said he. “If I strike the water of the harbor
with this branch, the harbor will be filled with ships till they are
crushing one another. When you choose the one you like, I will make the
others disappear as quickly as you can bow your head.”
“What can you do?” asked Fin of the younger brother.
“If a wild duck were to dart forth from her nest, I could keep in sight
of the bird, and she going straight or crooked, high or low, I could
catch her before she could fly back to the nest from which she came.”
When they had done speaking, Fin said, “I have never been in more need
of your help than I am at this moment.” He told them then of the Gilla,
and of all that had happened. The elder brother struck the harbor with
his branch; the harbor was filled with ships in one minute. Fin chose
the ship he liked best, and said, “I’ll take that one.” In a twinkle the
other ships vanished.
When the men were all ready to go on the ship, Fin called Oisin, and said
to him, “I leave the ruling of Erin with you, till I come back to this
harbor.” He bade farewell then to Oisin and the Fenians. The younger of
the two champions stood at the prow, the elder at the stern. The younger
followed the horse in crooked and straight paths through the sea, told
his brother how to steer on the voyage. They kept on till, at length, and
at last, they came to a haven with a steep, rugged shore, and no ship
could enter.
“This is where the steed went in,” said the younger brother.
When the Fenians saw the haven, they looked at one another. It was a very
steep place; and all said, “We cannot land here.”
“There will be an evil report for the Fenians of Erin, or for men trained
by Fin, if no one can spring to land,” said the druid.
“Well,” said Dyeermud, “there was never a man at Fintra who could make
such a spring, if I cannot make it.”
He buckled his belt firmly, and went to the stern of the ship to find
space for a run; then he rushed to the prow, and rose with one bound to
the top of the cliff. When he looked back, and saw his comrades below, he
was frightened.
Dyeermud left the ship and the Fenians, and walked forward alone. Toward
evening, he saw a herd of deer; he pursued them, and caught a doe, which
he killed; he made a fire, roasted the carcass, ate of it, and drank
pure spring water. He made a hut then of limbs, and slept quietly till
morning. After breakfast, a gruagach came the way, and called out to him,
“Is not Erin wide enough for you to live in, instead of coming hither to
steal my herds from me?”
“Though I might have been willing to go when you came,” replied Dyeermud,
“I will not go now since you speak so unmannerly.”
“You must fight with me then,” said the gruagach.
“I will indeed,” said Dyeermud.
They took their spears and swords, and fought all that day until evening,
when the gruagach saw that Dyeermud was getting the upper hand. He leaped
into the spring from which Dyeermud had drunk the cool water. Dyeermud
ran quickly, and thrust his sword into the water, but no sign of the
gruagach.
“I will watch for you to-morrow,” said Dyeermud to himself; so he waited
near the spring until morning.
The gruagach stood before him next day more threatening to look at than
ever, and said, “It seems you hadn’t fighting enough from me yesterday.”
“I told you that I would not go,” answered Dyeermud, “till I had knocked
satisfaction out of you for your ugly speech.”
They went at each other then, and fought fiercely till very near evening.
Dyeermud watched the spring closely, and when the gruagach leaped in, he
was with him. In the side of the spring was a passage; the two walked
through that passage, and came out in a kingdom where there was a grand
castle, and seven men at each side of the door. When Dyeermud went toward
the castle, the fourteen rushed against him. He slew these, and all
others who faced him till nightfall. He would not enter the castle, but
stretched himself on the ground, and fell fast asleep. Soon a champion
came, tapped him lightly with a sword, and said, “Rise now, and speak to
me.”
Dyeermud sprang up, and grasped his sword.
“I am not an enemy, but a friend,” said the champion. “It is not proper
for you to be sleeping in the midst of your enemies. Come to my castle; I
will entertain you, and give you good keeping.”
Dyeermud went with the stranger; and they became faithful friends. “The
king of this country, which is called Tir Fohin [Land Under the Wave], is
my brother,” said the champion. “The kingdom is rightfully mine, and ’tis
I that should be King of Tir Fohin; but my brother corrupted my warriors
with promises, so that all except thirty men of them left me.”
This champion was called the Knight of Valor. Dyeermud told this knight
his whole story,—told of the Hard Gilla, and his long-legged, scrawny,
thin-maned, ugly old horse.
“I am the man,” said the knight, “that will find out the Hard Gilla for
you. That Gilla is the best swordsman and champion in this land, and the
greatest enchanter. Your men, brought away by him, are as safe and as
sound as when they left Erin. He is a good friend of mine.”
“Now,” said Dyeermud, “for your kindness (you might have killed me when I
was asleep), and for your entertainment, I give my word to fight against
your brother, and win back your kingdom.”
Dyeermud sent a challenge to the King of Tir Fohin. The knight and
Dyeermud, with the knight’s thirty men, fought against the king’s forces,
fought all that day until evening; then the king withdrew to the castle
to keep his hold firm on the chief place, but Dyeermud rushed in, brought
him out to the green, threw him on the flat of his back, and shouted,
“Are you not satisfied yet?”
“I am if the men are,” said the king.
“Will you obey the Knight of Valor?” asked Dyeermud of the men.
“We will,” answered they.
The men gave their word to obey with all faithfulness. Dyeermud gave the
false king thirty men then; and the Knight of Valor became king in his
own land. On the morrow, Dyeermud and the king went with forces to the
Gilla’s castle; and when they entered the gates, the Gilla came out,
received them with welcome and hand-shaking. There was great rejoicing,
and good cheer at the Gilla’s castle.
When Dyeermud did not return to the vessel, Fin and the two young
champions thought to find an easier landing in some place; they put their
ship around, and sailed forward, sailed and sailed; and where should
they come at last but to the castle of the King of Sorách (Light), who
received them with welcome, and entertained them with the best that he
had in his castle.
But they were hardly seated at table, when the chief messenger of the
King of Sorách came hurrying in and said, that there was a fleet sailing
toward them, which was as numerous as the sands on the seashore, that it
was coming for tribute, which had not been collected for many a year.
The king had a grieved and sorrowful face. “That is the High King of the
World coming against me,” said he.
“Never fear,” said Fin MacCool. “Cheer up, and have courage. I and my men
will stand up for you. We will fight to the death to defend you.”
On the following day, the High King sent forces to land, to attack the
King of Sorách in his castle. These forces were under command of Borb
Sinnsior na Gah, son of the High King. The greatest delight of the High
King was his daughter, a beautiful maiden called Teasa Taov Geal; and the
thought came to her that day to see the battle. “I will go,” said she,
“with my brother, and see him take the king’s castle.”
On Fin’s side, the two young champions his guides were eager to be in the
struggle; but Fin would not hear of that. “You must stay with the ship,”
said he, “and take us to Erin, when the time comes.”
As soon as Fin saw the attack was led by the son of the High King, he
said, “I will take command in the battle, and lead the men in action
to-day. We will show the invaders what the Fenians do in battle.”
Oscar went with Fin, and so did Goll MacMorna. The battle raged grandly;
the men of the High King fell in crowds until evening, what was left of
them then went to the ships, and sailed back in haste to their master.
When the news reached the High King, he called his druid for advice.
“This is not the time to make war on the King of Sorách,” said the druid;
“for Fin MacCool and his men are living in friendship at his castle; they
will help him to the end of this struggle. Go home for the present, and
come again when Fin has gone back to Erin.”
The king was inclined to do this; but his daughter had seen Fin MacCool
in the battle, and fallen in love with him. She sent him a message,
saying, “I will go with you. I will leave my father for your sake. I love
you.”
The answer that Fin sent, was to come to him; he would take her with
gladness to Erin.
The king was grieved at the loss of his daughter. “I might go home now,”
said he, “and come back at another time; but how can I go, and leave my
daughter behind me?”
There was a champion called Lavran MacSuain, who could steal anything
while men were asleep, and make them sleep all the more, but could not do
harm to them. Lavran volunteered to bring back the daughter.
“If I find them asleep,” said he, “I will bring her back; if you give me
a reward.”
“I will pay you well,” said the king. “I will not spare rewards on you,
if you bring me my daughter.”
When Lavran came to where Fin was, he found him and the Fenians asleep,
and put them in a still deeper sleep. He brought Teasa Taov Geal to her
father’s ship then. The fleet sailed away in the night; and at daybreak
there was not a trace of it.
Next morning when Fin woke, and found that the king’s daughter was gone,
he sprang up, and was raging with anger. He sent men to look for the
fleet; but not a boat nor a ship was in sight.
Oscar and Goll, seeing Fin in such passion, said, “We will go, if a druid
goes with us. He will find out the castle by his knowledge; and we will
bring the woman back, or die while striving to bring her.”
Next morning, Goll and Oscar took a ready ship from the fleet of the King
of Sorách, set sail, and never stopped till they touched land near the
castle of the High King.
“The best way for us,” said the druid, on landing, “is to say that we are
bards, till we learn where the strength of the king is.”
“We will not do that,” said Oscar. “We will go straight forward, and
bring the woman back with the strength of our arms.”
They went straight from the strand toward the castle. At the wayside was
a rath where the daughter of the king was at that time, and no great
number of men there to guard her. Goll and Oscar attacked the guards, cut
them down, and took Taov Geal.
“The king is coming home from a hunt,” said the druid; “it is better to
hurry back to our ship.”
“We will sharpen our weapons,” said Oscar, “and strike the king’s men, if
they come toward us; but do you take the woman, and go in all haste to
the ship. We will stay behind to protect you.”
The druid took Taov Geal, who was willing and glad, when she heard who
had come for her. They reached the ship safely. Goll and Oscar came
soon after, sprang into the ship, set sail, and never stopped till they
brought Teasa Taov Geal to Fin at the castle of the King of Sorách.
There was a feast then far greater than the one which the High King had
interrupted the first day.
“I will take you to Erin,” said Fin to Taov Geal.
“I will go with you,” said she.
“I know the Hard Gilla well,” said the King of Sorách to Fin MacCool. “I
will go with you to him; he is a great champion, and a mighty enchanter.”
The king and his men, with Fin and the Fenians, went to the lands of the
Gilla; and when he saw them all, he brought them into his castle, and
treated them well. Dyeermud and the King of Tir Fohin were there also;
they had been enjoying themselves, and feasting with the Gilla, while
Fin and the others were fighting with the High King, and stealing his
daughter.
Conan and the twenty-nine Fenians were all in good health; and Fin had
the daughter of the High King in the castle, intending to take her to
Erin.
Said Fin to the Gilla one day, “It was you and Conan who had the first
quarrel, he and you are the men who began these adventures. I will leave
him and you to end the whole story. Conan is not easy to talk with, and
you are a hard man to conquer.”
Conan was called up.
“What have you to say of our host,” inquired Fin; “and what would you do
for him?”
“I was treated here as well as you have ever treated me in Fintra, or as
any man treated me in another place,” said Conan. “My sentence is this,
Let him come to Erin with us in our ship, feast with us in Fintra, and
ride home on his own horse.”
“I will do that,” said the Gilla.
Conan and the Gilla, with all the Fenians, went to the ship. Fin brought
the daughter of the High King on board, and all sailed away to Erin.
The Gilla was entertained to his heart’s content, till one day he said,
“I must leave you now, and go to my own place.”
Conan and a number of Fenians went to the seashore to see him ride away.
“Where is your horse?” asked Conan.
“Here,” said the Gilla.
Conan turned to see the ugly long-legged beast, but saw nothing. He
turned then to look at the Gilla, but saw only mist stretching out toward
the water.
THE BATTLE OF VENTRY.
It was predicted seven years before the battle of Ventry, that Daire
Donn, High King of the Great World, would invade Erin to conquer it. Fin
MacCool, for this reason, placed sentries at the chief ports of Erin. At
Ventry, Conn Crithir was stationed on the top of Cruach Varhin to give
warning; but he overslept when the fleet came: and the first news he had
of its coming was from the cries of people attacked by the invaders. Conn
Crithir sprang up, and said,—
“Great is the misery that has come by my sleep; but Fin and the Fenians
will not see me alive after this. I will rush into the midst of the
foreigners; and they will fall by me, till I fall by them.”
So he ran down toward the strand. On the way, he saw three strange women
running before him. He increased his speed; but, unable to overtake them,
he caught his spear to hurl it at the one nearest him.
The women stopped that moment, and cried, “Stay your hand, and do not
kill innocent women who have come not to harm but to help you.”
“Who are ye?” asked Conn Crithir.
“We are three sisters who have come from Tirnanog. We are all three in
love with you; but no one of us is jealous of the other. We will hide
you with an enchanted cloud, so that you can attack the foreign forces
unseen. We have a well of healing at the foot of Sliav Iolar; and its
waters will cure every wound made in battle. After bathing in it, you
will be as sound as the day you were born.”
Conn Crithir was grateful, and hurried to the strand, where he slew four
hundred men of the enemy on the first day. He was covered with wounds
himself; but the three sisters took him to the well. He bathed in it, and
was as sound as on the day he was born.