It was the custom with Fin MacCumhail and the Fenians of Erin, when a
stranger from any part of the world came to their castle, not to ask him
a question for a year and a day.
On a time, a champion came to Fin and his men, and remained with them.
He was not at all pleasant or agreeable.
At last Fin and his men took counsel together; they were much annoyed
because their guest was so dull and morose, never saying a word, always
silent.
While discussing what kind of man he was, Diarmuid Duivne offered to try
him; so one evening when they were eating together, Diarmuid came and
snatched from his mouth the hind-quarter of a bullock, which he was
picking.
Diarmuid pulled at one part of the quarter,--pulled with all his
strength, but only took the part that he seized, while the other kept
the part he held. All laughed; the stranger laughed too, as heartily as
any. It was the first laugh they had heard from him.
The strange champion saw all their feats of arms and practised with
them, till the year and a day were over. Then he said to Fin and his
men:
"I have spent a pleasant year in your company; you gave me good
treatment, and the least I can do now is to give you a feast at my own
castle."
No one had asked what his name was up to that time. Fin now asked his
name. He answered: "My name is Fear Dubh, of Alba."
Fin accepted the invitation; and they appointed the day for the feast,
which was to be in Erin, since Fear Dubh did not wish to trouble them to
go to Alban. He took leave of his host and started for home.
When the day for the feast came, Fin and the chief men of the Fenians of
Erin set out for the castle of Fear Dubh.
They went, a glen at a step, a hill at a leap, and thirty-two miles at a
running leap, till they came to the grand castle where the feast was to
be given.
They went in; everything was ready, seats at the table, and every man's
name at his seat in the same order as at Fin's castle. Diarmuid, who was
always very sportive,--fond of hunting, and paying court to women, was
not with them; he had gone to the mountains with his dogs.
All sat down, except Conan Maol MacMorna (never a man spoke well of
him); no seat was ready for him, for he used to lie on the flat of his
back on the floor, at Fin's castle.
When all were seated the door of the castle closed of itself. Fin then
asked the man nearest the door, to rise and open it. The man tried to
rise; he pulled this way and that, over and hither, but he couldn't get
up. Then the next man tried, and the next, and so on, till the turn came
to Fin himself, who tried in vain.
Now, whenever Fin and his men were in trouble and great danger it was
their custom to raise a cry of distress (a voice of howling), heard all
over Erin. Then all men knew that they were in peril of death; for they
never raised this cry except in the last extremity.
Fin's son, Fialan, who was three years old and in the cradle, heard the
cry, was roused, and jumped up.
"Get me a sword!" said he to the nurse. "My father and his men are in
distress; I must go to aid them."
"What could you do, poor little child."
Fialan looked around, saw an old rusty sword-blade laid aside for ages.
He took it down, gave it a snap; it sprang up so as to hit his arm, and
all the rust dropped off; the blade was pure as shining silver.
"This will do," said he; and then he set out towards the place where he
heard the cry, going a glen at a step, a hill at a leap, and thirty-two
miles at a running leap, till he came to the door of the castle, and
cried out.