One day Finn and his companions, while out hunting, had stopped to cook
some of the game. Dermot, Conan and several other Fenians were in the
party. The horses had been put into an inclosure so that they might feed
while the men rested. It was during the meal that the guard, who had
been put upon a nearby hill to watch for the approach of an enemy, came
rushing up with the news that a great giant was coming toward them from
the south. The man had hardly time to tell the news when the giant,
himself, appeared.
He was tall and ungainly, with joints that bent outward at each step, as
though they had been fastened together with strings. He was dressed in
the skins of animals, with the hairy side out. Covering his face was a
growth of the same colored hair, so it was difficult to tell where the
garments left off and the skin began.
His face seemed formed no more firmly than his body. His jaw hung
loosely, showing a ragged set of huge teeth. One eye was higher than the
other. His nose was as rough as a ridge of hills. In one hand he held a
huge club, the end of which cut deep furrows in the earth as he dragged
it along. From the other hand was a leading thong attached to the halter
of a horse.
This animal was no better favored than the master. Its joints seemed
just as loosely hung together. Its coat was the color of the soot from a
chimney. Its backbone was like a knotted clothesline with a black rug
hung over it. When the animal walked, its legs bent outward at the
center, while its scraggly tail and many cornered head swayed from side
to side in opposite directions.
When the giant saw the Fenians he dropped the thong and approached by
himself. The animal let its head drop dejectedly, and its legs bowed
outward like the hoops of a barrel. It seemed about to fall to pieces.
“I am looking for Finn MacCool,” growled the giant.
Finn rose and came toward him. “I am he whom you seek,” he said.
“I have come to take service with you,” said the giant.
“If you need work, go prop up your horse,” shouted Conan. The Fenians
laughed loudly.
“I do not like the behavior of your men,” said the giant, “yet do I
still seek service. I have heard that you are a good master, and that
you will pay a man whatever he asks.”
“I have never refused service to any man who asked it, nor have I ever
refused to give a servant any reasonable wage requested,” said Finn.
“Then I would serve you,” declared the giant. “I am known as the
Worthless Servant because I never give my master what he pays for. I
always fail to do any task he sets me, and what I do is never done well.
Moreover, I eat more than any two men and grumble unceasingly about the
way I am treated.”
“You give yourself a bad name,” said Finn with a laugh. “Nevertheless,
you have asked for service, so I shall give it to you.”
“Then may I turn my horse into the pasture with the others?” asked the
giant.
Finn gave his permission and went back to his meal. The giant opened the
gate of the inclosure, took off the halter and let the animal loose.
That done, he came over to the table and proceeded to eat everything
within reach.
The decrepit old horse changed entirely when its master left it. No
longer was it mild and sleepy. It kicked its heels high in the air, let
out a snort and proceeded to bite and kick every animal it could reach.
These other horses could make no stand against the newcomer, nor could
they seem to get away from it. At last the giant’s horse had injured all
the animals except the one belonging to Conan. It was viciously pursuing
this one.
“Look here,” roared Conan. “Go tie up that ugly brute before it injures
my horse.”
The giant kept on eating. “There’s the halter,” he said between bites.
“If you do not like the way he acts, go tie him yourself.”
Conan needed no second invitation. He ran into the pasture and put the
halter on the great beast. As soon as it was caught, the animal resumed
its dejected pose. Conan pulled and pulled with all his might, but he
exerted himself without result. The horse would not move. The other
Fenians gathered around and offered much advice and many taunts.
“Shame on you, Conan,” cried one. “A Fenian and unable to lead one
little horse!”
“Take him by the tail,” shouted another. “Perhaps it travels the other
way.”
“Better practice on a sheep until you grow up,” came from a third.
Conan lost his temper. He began abusing the men who were joking him,
saying all the cutting things he could think of. His anger extended to
the horse. He began beating it with a heavy club. Still the animal stood
looking dejectedly at the ground and giving no sign that it felt the
blows.
Fergus True Lips, the poet of the Fenians, now gave some advice.
“Many a horse will not go when pulled by the halter,” he said. “Try
riding him.”
Conan sprang to the back of the horse and again tried to get it to move.
This method proved no better than the other. Again Fergus made a
suggestion.
“He is used to the weight of a heavier man than you. Let more Fenians
get upon his back until the combined weight shall equal that of the
giant.”
This advice the Fenians were glad to follow. One after another climbed
up until fourteen were astride that sharp backbone. Still the animal
would not move.
The Fenians were enjoying the sport. Those on the back of the animal
called out jibes to those on the ground, while these made jokes at the
expense of the mounted ones.
In the meantime the giant had finished eating all the food on the table.
He now approached Finn in great anger.
“It seems to me that the stories I have heard of your justice were all
false,” he growled.
“What makes you think so?” asked Finn.
“You stand by and see your men abusing my horse, yet you do nothing to
stop them,” he complained.
“I am sure they but keep your horse from injuring their own animals,”
said Finn.
“I am through with your service,” declared the giant. “If I had never
come at all, still would I have been here too long. Give me my wages and
let me go.”
“What wages can you expect when you have just come?” asked Finn. “All
you have done is to eat a meal at my expense.”
“Again I see that the stories told of you are not true,” said the giant.
“You promised to give me what wages I asked and now you refuse.”
“You have asked no wages,” cried Finn, becoming angry at the
unreasonable request. “You but trifle with me when you ask pay for
eating my food.”
“Since I can get no pay, I shall leave without it. Perhaps your men will
give me my wages more willingly.”
He strode off toward the sea, taking long but shuffling steps. The horse
moved after him, slowly at first, but with ever increasing speed. The
Fenians were still on his back.
“Get off!” cried Fergus. The men tried desperately, but they were
fastened as tight as if they had grown there.
“Is there no man among you who will stop this beast?” shouted Conan,
when he found that they were moving away from the Fenian camp.
A new member of the band ran after the animal and seized it by the tail.
Instead of stopping it, he, too, came under the enchantment and could
not let go.
The giant suddenly lost all his awkwardness. He began to run with the
speed of the wind. The horse also became full of life and fleet of foot.
“I charge you, Finn,” called Conan, “not to take any rest until you have
rescued us.”
Before the startled Fenians could realize what had happened, the giant
and the horse were at the edge of the sea. They entered the water at
full speed. As they advanced, the waves parted for them and closed again
after they had passed.
Thus disappeared the Worthless Servant and the fifteen Fenians he had
taken for his wages.