The Sleep-Wanderer
On a wild wintry night while things were so, there came into the
neighbourhood a hunter of wandering game, who had lost his course
and his companions. The man was tired with travelling among the
hills all day, and in the dark cloudy night, with the mist rising
round him from the hills, he laid him down outside the garden
within which Deirdre dwelt, and fell asleep. Weak he was with
hunger and fatigue, and numb with cold, and deep sleep fell upon
the man. Sleep-wandering came upon him then, and he thought that he
was close beside a warm hollowed-out fairy mound, and in his dreams
he heard fairy music, soft and sweet. In his sleep he called aloud
that if there were any one at all in the fairy mound, they would
open the mound and let him in, for the sake of the Good Being.
Now Deirdre had not slept that night, and she had arisen and
with her nurse had moved about the grounds to seek for warmth of
exercise. Just as they turned to go back within the house out of
the chill and heavy mist, Deirdre heard the faint feeble voice of
the weary man outside the gate. “Nurse-mother, what is that?” she
asked and stopped. Levarcam knew it was a human voice, but she
replied, “Only a thing of little worth, the birds of the air have
gone astray, and are seeking one another; let them hie away to
the forest of branches”; and she tried to draw Deirdre towards the
house. Again sleep-wandering came on the man, and he called out
again and louder than before, that if there were any in the fairy
mound, for the sake of the Being of the Elements they would arise
and let him in.
“What is that, nurse-mother?” said the girl again. “Only a thing
of little sense, the birds of the woods are gone astray from each
other, and are seeking to come together again. Let them hie them
away to the forest of branches.”
The third time came sleep-wandering upon the hunter, and he called
aloud that if there were any within the mound, they would let him
in for the sake of the God of the Elements, for he was benumbed
with cold and parched with hunger.
“Oh! what is that, nurse-mother?” said Deirdre. “Nought there is
in that to bring gladness to thee, maiden; it is but the birds of
the air who have lost one another in the woods; let them hie away
into the forest of branches. Neither shelter or home will they get
from us this night.” “Oh! nurse-mother, it was in the name of the
God of the Elements that the bird asked shelter of us; and oft hast
thou told me that anything asked of us in His name should willingly
be done. If thou wilt not allow me to bring in the bird that is
benumbed with cold and sore with hunger, I myself will doubt thy
teaching and thy faith. But as I believe in thy teaching and thy
faith, as thou thyself didst explain it to me, I myself will let in
the bird.” So Deirdre turned back to the gate and drew the bar from
the door, and let in the hunter. She brought him into the house,
and placed a seat in the place of sitting, food in the place of
eating, and drink in the place of drinking, for the man who had
come home.
“Go on and eat thy food, for indeed thou art in need of it,” said
Deirdre.
“Well, I was in truth needful of food and of drink and of warmth
when I came to the door of this home,” said the hunter, “but these
are all gone from me now that I behold thee, maiden.” Then Levarcam
was angry with the man, and spoke sharply to him: “It is too ready
on thy tongue the talk is, O man, with thy food and with thy
drink. It would be better for thee to keep thy mouth shut and thy
tongue dumb in return for the shelter we are giving thee on a cold
winter’s night.”
“Well,” said the hunter, “I may keep my mouth shut and my tongue
dumb if it suits thee, but by thy father’s two hands and thine own,
there are some others of the world’s men who, if they but saw this
blood-drop thou art hiding here, it is not long that they would
leave her here with thee.”
“What people are those and where are they?” said Deirdre, eagerly.
“I will tell thee that, maiden,” said the hunter. “There are three
heroes of the Red Branch, Naisi, Ainle, and Arden, sons of Usna,
brothers, who, if they saw thee, would bear thee hence to some
other place than this.”
“What like are these three brothers of whom you speak?” cried
Deirdre, and all her face blushed to a rosy red. “Like the colour
of a raven their dusky hair, tossed back from each high, shining
brow; their skin white as the plumage of a swan, their cheeks
like to a red-deer’s coat, or like your own cheeks, maiden. They
swim and leap and run as strong and stately as the salmon of the
stream, or as the stag upon the dappled hill, ’twixt sun and shade;
but Naisi, when he stands upright, towers a head and shoulders
above all the men around him. Such are the sons of Usna, noble
maid.”
But Levarcam interfered: “However be those men of whom you speak,
off with you now and take another road that comes not past this
way. Small is my gratitude for all thy talk, and well for her who
let thee in hadst thou died of thy cold and hunger at the door, and
never come within for food and drink.”
The hunter went his way; but he bethought himself that if he told
the sons of Usna of the lovely blood-drop he had seen, they might
free the maiden out of Levarcam’s hands, and do a good deed to him
also for telling them that there was such a damsel as Deirdre on
the surface of the living dewy world. So he told his tale to Naisi
and said to him that there dwelt, far away on the distant moor,
shut in between high walls, the loveliest maiden that ever was born
in Erin, and that none lived beside her but an aged nurse and an
old Druid, so that Deirdre was like a tender flower over-shadowed
by two ancient branchy trees, that hid her from the air and sun.
When Naisi heard that, he said, “Who is the maid and where is she,
whom no man hath seen but thee, if, indeed, seen her thou hast?”
“Truly I have seen her,” said the hunter, “but no one else could
find her save I myself should guide him.”
Then Naisi said that he would go; but Arden and Ainle tried to
dissuade him, for they said, “What if the girl should be the maid
the King hath destined to himself?” But from far-off to the mind
of Naisi there came a memory of a young child, scarce seven years
old, whom on the playing-fields he once had seen and promised
to see again, but who had disappeared that very day, and never
from that day to this had he set eyes upon the girl. So all his
brothers could devise served not to turn him from his purpose; and
at dawn of the next day, amid the early carolling of birds, in the
mild morning dawn of fragrant May, when all the bush was white
with hawthorn-bloom, and dew-drops glistened from every point of
sapling, bush, and plant, they four set out, going in search of the
retired place where Deirdre dwelt.
“Yonder it is, down on the floor of the glen,” the hunter said,
when at the fall of eve they stood upon the mountain-brow above the
house, so well concealed in trees that many times they might have
passed it by and never known that any house was near. “I care not
for myself to see again the woman who lives therein; sharp is her
tongue, unwelcoming her words. I leave you then, good luck go with
you, but if you will be advised, go not near the house. At every
gate are blood-hounds, and Levarcam’s bite is nigh as fierce as
theirs.”
From day to day the sons of Usna stayed among the hills that
circled Deirdre’s home. But for awhile Levarcam feared to let her
charge go out, for soon would Conor come to claim her, and Levarcam
thought, “If aught should happen or the girl should slip between
my hands, small pity would King Conor have for me.” But as time
passed, and Deirdre pined again for open air and sunshine, and the
walks she loved, and fretted for the fox that looked for her, and
for her woodland company of beasts and birds, Levarcam once again
took the girl abroad, and oft they sat upon the open hill and
watched the sun go down, or brought their work and passed the long
spring mornings on the heather, happy because the sunshine was so
warm, the air so sweet, and all the world so fresh with herbs and
flowers.
One day they long had sat thus drinking in the sun, and while
Levarcam dozed and nodded with the heat and the fatigue of climbing
up the hill, Deirdre from time to time would leave her side to
seek some plant or follow a butterfly that passed across her path.
Reaching the summit of the hill she saw three men whose like she
never in her life before had set her eyes upon. They were not bent,
like Caffa, or wrinkled, like King Conor when he came; nor were
they dark and roughly clad, with shaggy beards, like the one hunter
who had made his way to her abode. These men were young and lithe,
straight as the pine and shapely as the stag. But one above the
rest towered head and shoulders high, his raven locks thrown back,
his blue eye scanning all the mountain for trace of fawn or deer.
Beside them, in the leash, three noble hounds; and as they paced
along the upland track, Deirdre sat mute in wonder, for in all her
life never had she seen such goodly men as these. But suddenly,
as they drew near, a flash of inspiration came upon her mind; she
knew that these were Usna’s sons, that he who overtopped the rest
was Naisi, the boy who long ago had thrown the ball with her. The
brothers passed her by, not seeing her seated above them on the
hill. But all at once, without a moment’s thought, Deirdre sprang
up, and gathering up her dress, she sped as swiftly as a roe along
the mountain side, calling out, “Naisi, Naisi, wilt thou leave me
here?” Now Naisi had rounded the bend of the hill, and he could not
see the maiden, but Ainle and Arden saw her bounding after them,
and no thought had they but to get Naisi away, for they knew well
that this was Deirdre, and that if Naisi once set eyes on her,
nothing in life would prevent him from carrying her off, the more
especially, since Conor was not yet married to the girl. So when
Naisi asked, “What is that cry that came to mine ear that it is
not easy for me to answer and yet not easy for me to refuse?” the
brothers replied, “What but the quacking of the wild ducks upon the
mere? Let us hasten our steps and hurry our feet, for long is the
distance we have to traverse, and the dark hour of night is coming
on.” They went forward quickly, but when Deirdre saw that they were
lengthening the space between themselves and her, she called again
piteously, “Naisi, thou son of Usna, is it leaving me alone thou
art?” “What cry is that which strikes into my very heart?” said
Naisi. “Not easy is it for me to answer, but harder yet is it to
refuse.” “It is but the cry of the grey geese in the air, winging
their flight to the nearest tarn,” said the brothers again; “let
us hasten now and walk well, for long is our path to-night and
the darkness of night is coming on.” They set out to walk faster
than before, and farther yet was the distance between themselves
and Deirdre. Then Deirdre flew with the swiftness of the winds of
March across the bend of the mountain, and reached a place above
them on the cliff, and called again the third time, “Naisi, Naisi,
Naisi, thou son of Usna, wilt thou leave me here alone?” “The cry
I hear strikes sweetly on mine ear, but of all cries I ever heard,
this cry makes deepest wound within mine heart,” said Naisi, and he
stopped short.
“Heed not the cry,” his brothers said, “it is the wail of the
lake-swans, disturbed in their nesting-place; let us push on now,
and win our way to-night to Emain Macha.” “Three times came that
cry of distress to me,” said Naisi, “and the vow of a champion is
upon me, that no cry of distress shall be passed by unheeded. I
will go back now and see whence comes that cry.”
Then Naisi turned to go back, and on the hill above him he saw
Deirdre, standing on a rock with her arms outstretched, and all
her hair blown backward by the wind, and her fair face flushed all
with red, part with her running, part with a lovely shame, and
changing as the aspen shimmering in the summer’s breeze. And Naisi
knew that never in his life had he seen anything one-half so fair,
or any blood-drop like the living blood-drop here, and he gave
love to Deirdre such as he never gave to any other, or to a dream
or vision, or to a person on the whole world’s face, but only to
Deirdre alone.
And Deirdre came close, and to him she gave three loving kisses,
and to his brothers each a kiss; and Naisi lifted her and placed
her on his shoulder, and he said, “Hitherto it is you, my brothers,
who have bidden me to walk well, but now it is I who bid the same
to you.”
That night they carried Deirdre to their own home, and sheltered
her there for many days. But the news reached Conor that Deirdre
was flown, and that it was the sons of Usna with whom she went,
and in his fury he sent out armies, and hunted them from place to
place, so that they traversed all Ireland, fleeing before the King.
And when they found there was no rest for them in Ireland, Naisi
determined to forsake his native land and to flee to Alba, for
there he had made wars and had carved out for himself a kingdom as
great as the kingdom of Conor in Ulster. So he and Deirdre, with
his brothers and a great band of followers fled to Alba, which is
to-day called Scotland, and they made their home on Glen Etive
in Alba, and thence Naisi ruled over the territories he had taken
from the King of Alba, and he made wars, and became a powerful
prince. And joyous and gladsome were he and Deirdre in each other’s
company, and great was the love and affection they gave one to the
other.