A tremendous gathering of the men of Erin had come together at the city
of Tara, the central city of the realm. The Fenians were camped in a
circle around the outskirts. At night the lights of their campfires made
a circle of fire as though to protect it from danger.
Conn, the High King, was holding court in the great banquet hall where a
thousand of the chiefs and champions were gathered with him. This hall
was seven hundred sixty feet long, ninety feet wide and built of hewn
logs. Down each side ran a double row of benches with hewn tables in
front of them. In each row were two hundred fifty of the finest manhood
of Erin. Their weapons and shields rested against the walls behind them
while they ate. Down the center was a row of fires over which, on spits,
great roasts of meat were cooking. An army of cooks were constantly
busy, tending the fires, turning the spits and carrying food to the
tables.
At the end of the hall on a raised platform sat Conn, his son Arthur,
and Gaul of Morna, leader of the Fenians. They were in earnest
consultation.
One would have thought that such a gathering of heroes at a feast would
have been a jolly one. It was not so. A deep silence hung over all. Men
ate in silence with gloomy faces and downcast eyes, sad because they
felt that it would be their last gathering in that splendid hall.
Suddenly a voice rang out through the silence. Clear and firm it was, so
that every word was heard the length of the hall.
“Conn, High King of Erin, a lonely and disinherited youth, without money
and without friends, claims thy hospitality!”
The men of Erin looked at the newcomer in surprise. They saw a youth
about ten years of age, clad in the skins of the forest animals. Hanging
at his belt in front was a great sword, while his skin covered shield
hung over his shoulders at the back. His fair hair fell to his
shoulders, while his blue eyes caught the glint of light from the spears
along the wall and shot it back like flashes of sunlight. It was Finn,
son of Cool, appearing for the first time before the Fenians.
The High King had matters of too much weight on his mind to take much
heed of the boy who claimed what no king at that time would refuse—a
place at the table and a bed. He motioned to Finn to take his place with
the others and went on with his discussion.
Finn ate with the other men of Erin. He said no word until he had
finished his meal. Then he arose and once more addressed the High King.
“I know it is not customary for a stranger to note that there is
anything wrong in the house of his host, but I am impressed by your look
of sadness and the silence of the men of Erin. Is aught amiss that may
be told to a stranger?”
“Our troubles are not secret, though it shames me to tell them,”
answered the High King. “Tonight is the time set for the destruction of
Tara, and I am powerless to save it. Each year for nine years, at the
midnight hour of this night, the giant Midna appears and throws balls of
fire at the city until it is destroyed. Each year I have rebuilt it,
only to know that my work is to last but for a year. The women and
children have been sent away. Only the Fenians remain to witness my
shame. Do you wonder, O Youth, that we are sick at heart?”
“And is there no brave champion or youth anxious to prove his bravery
who can go out and meet this giant?” asked Finn.
“Alas, no,” sighed the High King. “It is not that the men of Erin are
lacking in bravery. Many have tried without result. When Midna is ready
to destroy, he plays fairy music upon his pipes, and not a man can stay
awake. When sleep leaves our eyes he is gone, and the city is a heap of
ashes. We watch again tonight, but we have no hopes of success.”
Of course Finn, having eaten the Salmon of Knowledge, knew this as well
as anybody. His purpose in asking for information was to obtain a
promise from Conn.
“What shall be the reward of him who slays the giant and saves the
city?” asked Finn.
“If such a feat be possible, no reward that he shall ask will be
refused,” answered the High King.
“Even to the return of my inheritance?” asked Finn.
“Yes, fair youth,” answered Conn. “Even if your inheritance be my crown,
and my son and I must become your vassals, it shall be returned to you.”
“Is that your promise, O King, made before all these men of Erin?”
insisted Finn.
“It is,” declared the king, stepping down and putting his hand in that
of the boy. “My hand is my pledge that I will do as I promise.”
“Then I shall attempt the trial,” said Finn.
He waved back all offers of spears and shields from the men of Erin and
went out by himself into the darkness. He sought out a place in a dark
grove and waited quietly. Soon a man appeared, bearing a large cloak and
a heavy spear. The spear handle was studded with nails of gold, but the
point was incased in a leather covering. The man gave Finn directions
for the use of the articles and disappeared.
Soon the lights in the banquet hall went out, as the champions went to
their posts in the circle defending the city. No man spoke to his
neighbor. That would have been useless since every man had his ears
filled with wax in the hopes that he might shut out the sound of the
strange, sweet music that put all to sleep.
Finn climbed a hill overlooking the city. His knowledge told him that
here it was the giant would come. Soon he heard in the distance the
sound of pipes. The music lulled his senses, his eyelids drooped, his
head began to nod. Not till then did he take the leather covering from
the spear head. It glowed like fire and little tongues of light shot out
in all directions. From the spear came the sound of many voices crying
out together. Finn pressed the point to his forehead. The pain of the
burning was stronger than the spell of the music.
Soon the lights of the circle began to reel and go out as one after
another of the Fenians came under the spell of the music. At last only
the lights of the stronger chiefs were burning.
The music then changed to the sweetness of strings. Once again Finn had
to press the spear head to his forehead. The lights went out one by one
until there was but one left, that of Conn, and it was reeling like that
of a drunken man. Then it, too, went out. Tara was unprotected by her
army.
And now Finn heard the sound of heavy feet. There was a splashing of
water as of one crossing a river. Finn looked in the direction of the
sound and beheld a mighty mountain of man ascending the hill on which he
stood. It was the giant Midna.
Midna looked over the city lying at his mercy and laughed aloud. He blew
from his mouth a red fire ball which was to begin the destruction of the
city. Finn reached out his cloak and caught the ball in its folds, where
it died out harmlessly. The amazed giant shot another and another at the
city, but not one passed the folds of Finn’s cloak.
At first, I suppose, the giant thought that he was shooting a poor grade
of fire balls that evening. When, however, he looked to the place where
they disappeared and saw Finn catching them in his cloak, he let out a
roar of fear and ran back toward his home as quickly as he could.
Probably he had heard some prophecy that told him of the coming of this
boy, dressed in skins; maybe he saw that Finn’s powers were greater than
his; anyway he did not pause for battle, but ran with all the speed he
possessed.
Finn gave chase. He was, you remember, very fleet of foot, but the
giant’s legs were many times longer and the distance grew between them.
The spear flamed brightly and seemed struggling to get free.
“Go then, if you will,” cried Finn, as he hurled it after the fast
disappearing giant.
Like a meteor in the night sky the spear sped through the darkness and
disappeared. Finn ran on after it. He found the giant dead at the door
of his cave in the hillside. The spear had passed through his body and
disappeared.
With his sword Finn took the enchanter’s head as proof that he had won
the battle. When he passed the place where he had dropped the cloak he
found nothing. Like the spear, it disappeared when its work was done.
Finn placed the head of the giant on a pole in front of the banquet hall
so that all might see it in the morning.
And then, after it was all over, he became very faint and sick. The use
of the weapons of magic had taken all the strength out of his body. He
reeled like a drunken man toward the spring which furnished water for
the banquet hall. Finn had another power of which I must tell you. By
bringing water in his cupped hands to one sick or wounded he could
restore him to health. He used this power now and drank from his own
hands. At once his sickness passed. Then he lay down and slept.
In the morning he woke early and gave a mighty shout.
Even though their ears were filled with wax the Fenians could not fail
to hear his voice. They struggled from their sleep and rubbed their eyes
in astonishment to see, not a heap of smoking ruins, but Tara,
resplendent in the morning sun.
They came with all speed, Conn and Gaul in the lead, to the spot where
Finn stood pointing at the head of their late enemy.
“Who are you, brave youth?” asked Conn. “You are no common man since you
have done what no one else could do.”
Then Finn drew himself up and in a loud voice cried:
“I claim my inheritance—the castle of Alma and the leadership of the
Fenians. I am Finn, son of Cool, and these things belong to me in my
right.”
“What I have promised I will fulfill,” declared Conn. “I give you your
inheritance the more willingly because your father was my friend and
loyal subject until I decided unfairly against him.”
Then Gaul of Morna gave up the leadership of the Fenians and put his
hand in that of Finn to show that he was willing to be his friend and
follower. The other leaders followed his example. It must have gone hard
with some of these mighty chiefs to swear fealty to a ten year old boy.
The only thing that made such a thing possible was that Finn had done
something no other of them could do and had entered the class of a
champion by killing the giant.
Thus Finn MacCool became the leader of the Fenians.