over the plain of Cliach, that Finn went to rest on the hill of
Collkilla, which is now called Knockainy; and he had his hunting-tents
pitched on a level spot near the summit, and some of his chief heroes
tarried with him.
When the King and his companions had taken their places on the hill, the
Feni unleashed their gracefully shaped, sweet-voiced hounds through the
woods and sloping glens. And it was sweet music to Finn's ear, the cry
of the long-snouted dogs, as they routed the deer from their covers and
the badgers from their dens; the pleasant, emulating shouts of the
youths; the whistling and signalling of the huntsmen; and the
encouraging cheers of the mighty heroes, as they spread themselves
through the glens and woods, and over the broad green plain of Cliach.
Then did Finn ask who of all his companions would go to the highest
point of the hill directly over them to keep watch and ward and to
report how the chase went on. For, he said, the Dedannans were ever on
the watch to work the Feni mischief by their druidical spells, and more
so during the chase than at other times.
Finn Ban Mac Bresal stood forward and offered to go; and, grasping his
broad spears, he went to the top, and sat viewing the plain to the four
points of the sky. And the King and his companions brought forth the
chess-board and chess-men and sat them down to a game.
Finn Ban Mac Bresal had been watching only a little time when he saw on
a plain to the east a Fomor of vast size coming towards the hill,
leading a horse. As he came nearer Finn Ban observed that he was the
ugliest-looking giant his eyes ever lighted on. He had a large, thick
body, bloated and swollen out to a great size; clumsy, crooked legs; and
broad, flat feet turned inwards. His hands and arms and shoulders were
bony and thick and very strong-looking; his neck was long and thin; and
while his head was poked forward, his face was turned up, as he stared
straight at Finn Mac Bresal. He had thick lips, and long, crooked teeth;
and his face was covered all over with bushy hair.
He was fully armed; but all his weapons were rusty and soiled and
slovenly looking. A broad shield of a dirty, sooty colour, rough and
battered, hung over his back; he had a long, heavy, straight sword at
his left hip; and he held in his left hand two thick-handled,
broad-headed spears, old and rusty, and seeming as if they had not been
handled for years. In his right hand he held an iron club, which he
dragged after him with its end on the ground; and, as it trailed along,
it tore up a track as deep as the furrow a farmer ploughs with a team of
oxen.
The horse he led was even larger in proportion than the giant himself,
and quite as ugly. His great carcass was covered all over with tangled
scraggy hair, of a sooty black; you could count his ribs and all the
points of his big bones through his hide; his legs were crooked and
knotty; his neck was twisted; and as for his jaws, they were so long and
heavy that they made his head look twice too large for his body.
The giant held him by a thick halter, and seemed to be dragging him
forward by main force, the animal was so lazy and so hard to move. Every
now and then, when the beast tried to stand still, the giant would give
him a blow on the ribs with his big iron club, which sounded as loud as
the thundering of a great billow against the rough-headed rocks of the
coast. When he gave him a pull forward by the halter, the wonder was
that he did not drag the animal's head away from his body; and, on the
other hand, the horse often gave the halter such a tremendous tug
backwards that it was equally wonderful how the arm of the giant was not
torn away from his shoulder.
When at last he had come up he bowed his head and bended his knee, and
saluted the King with great respect.
Finn addressed him; and after having given him leave to speak he asked
him who he was, and what was his name, and whether he belonged to one of
the noble or ignoble races; also what was his profession or craft, and
why he had no servant to attend to his horse.
The big man made answer and said, "King of the Feni, whether I come of a
noble or of an ignoble race, that, indeed, I cannot tell, for I know not
who my father and mother were. As to where I came from, I am a Fomor of
Lochlann in the north; but I have no particular dwelling-place, for I am
continually travelling about from one country to another, serving the
great lords and nobles of the world, and receiving wages for my service.
"In the course of my wanderings I have often heard of you, O King, and
of your greatness and splendour and royal bounty; and I have come now to
ask you to take me into your service for one year; and at the end of
that time I shall fix my own wages, according to my custom.
"You ask me also why I have no servant for this great horse of mine. The
reason of that is this: at every meal I eat my master must give me as
much food and drink as would be enough for a hundred men; and whosoever
the lord or chief may be that takes me into his service, it is quite
enough for him to have to provide for me, without having also to feed my
servant.
"Moreover, I am so very heavy and lazy that I should never be able to
keep up with a company on march if I had to walk; and this is my reason
for keeping a horse at all.
"My name is the Gilla Dacker, and it is not without good reason that I
am so called. For there never was a lazier or worse servant than I am,
or one that grumbles more at doing a day's work for his master. And I am
the hardest person in the world to deal with; for, no matter how good or
noble I may think my master, or how kindly he may treat me, it is hard
words and foul reproaches I am likely to give him for thanks in the end.
"This, O Finn, is the account I have to give of myself, and these are my
answers to your questions."
"Well," answered Finn, "according to your own account you are not a very
pleasant fellow to have anything to do with; and of a truth there is not
much to praise in your appearance. But things may not be so bad as you
say; and, anyhow, as I have never yet refused any man service and wages,
I will not now refuse you."
Whereupon Finn and the Gilla Dacker made covenants, and the Gilla Dacker
was taken into service for a year.
"And now," said the Gilla Dacker, "as to this same horse of mine, I find
I must attend to him myself, as I see no one here worthy of putting a
hand near him. So I will lead him to the nearest stud, as I am wont to
do, and let him graze among your horses. I value him greatly, however,
and it would grieve me very much if any harm were to befall him; so,"
continued he, turning to the King, "I put him under your protection, O
King, and under the protection of all the Feni that are here present."
At this speech the Feni all burst out laughing to see the Gilla Dacker
showing such concern for his miserable, worthless old skeleton of a
horse.
Howbeit, the big man, giving not the least heed to their merriment, took
the halter off the horse's head and turned him loose among the horses of
the Feni.
But now, this same wretched-looking old animal, instead of beginning to
graze, as everyone thought he would, ran in among the horses of the
Feni, and began straightway to work all sorts of mischief. He cocked his
long, hard, switchy tail straight out like a rod, and, throwing up his
hind legs, he kicked about on this side and on that, maiming and
disabling several of the horses. Sometimes he went tearing through the
thickest of the herd, butting at them with his hard, bony forehead; and
he opened out his lips with a vicious grin and tore all he could lay
hold on with his sharp, crooked teeth, so that none were safe that came
in his way either before or behind.
At last he left them, and was making straight across to a small field
where Conan Mail's horses were grazing by themselves, intending to play
the same tricks among them. But Conan, seeing this, shouted in great
alarm to the Gilla Dacker to bring away his horse, and not let him work
any more mischief; and threatening, if he did not do so at once, to go
himself and knock the brains out of the vicious old brute on the spot.
But the Gilla Dacker told Conan that he saw no way of preventing his
horse from joining the others, except someone put the halter on him.
"And," said he to Conan, "there is the halter; and if you are in any
fear for your own animals, you may go yourself and bring him away from
the field."
Conan was in a mighty rage when he heard this; and as he saw the big
horse just about to cross the fence, he snatched up the halter, and,
running forward with long strides, he threw it over the animal's head
and thought to lead him back. But in a moment the horse stood stock
still, and his body and legs became as stiff as if they were made of
wood; and though Conan pulled and tugged with might and main, he was not
able to stir him an inch from his place.
At last Fergus Finnvel, the poet, spoke to Conan and said, "I never
would have believed, Conan Mail, that you could be brought to do
horse-service for any knight or noble in the whole world; but now,
indeed, I see that you have made yourself a horse-boy to an ugly foreign
giant, so hateful-looking and low-born that not a man of the Feni would
have anything to say to him. As you have, however, to mind this old
horse in order to save your own, would it not be better for you to mount
him and revenge yourself for all the trouble he is giving you, by riding
him across the country, over the hill-tops, and down into the deep glens
and valleys, and through stones and bogs and all sorts of rough places,
till you have broken the heart in his big ugly body?"
Conan, stung by the cutting words of the poet and by the jeers of his
companions, jumped upon the horse's back, and began to beat him mightily
with his heels and with his two big heavy fists to make him go; but the
horse seemed not to take the least notice, and never stirred.
"I know the reason he does not go," said Fergus Finnvel; "he has been
accustomed to carry a horseman far heavier than you--that is to say, the
Gilla Dacker; and he will not move till he has the same weight on his
back."
At this Conan Mail called out to his companions, and asked which of them
would mount with him and help to avenge the damage done to their horses.
"I will go," said Coil Croda the Battle Victor, son of Criffan; and up
he went. But the horse never moved.
Dara Donn Mac Morna next offered to go, and mounted behind the others;
and after him Angus Mac Art Mac Morna. And the end of it was that
fourteen men of the Clann Baskin and Clann Morna got up along with
Conan; and all began to thrash the horse together with might and main.
But they were none the better for it, for he remained standing stiff and
immovable as before. They found, moreover, that their seat was not at
all an easy one--the animal's back was so sharp and bony.
When the Gilla Dacker saw the Feni beating his horse at such a rate he
seemed very angry, and addressed the King in these words:
"King of the Feni, I now see plainly that all the fine accounts I heard
about you and the Feni are false, and I will not stay in your
service--no, not another hour. You can see for yourself the ill usage
these men are giving my horse without cause; and I leave you to judge
whether anyone could put up with it--anyone who had the least regard for
his horse. The time is, indeed, short since I entered your service, but
I now think it a great deal too long; so pay me my wages and let me go
my ways."
But Finn said, "I do not wish you to go; stay on till the end of your
year, and then I will pay you all I promised you."
"I swear," answered the Gilla Dacker, "that if this were the very last
day of my year, I would not wait till morning for my wages after this
insult. So, wages or no wages, I will now seek another master; but from
this time forth I shall know what to think of Finn Mac Cumal and his
Feni!"
With that the Gilla Dacker stood up as straight as a pillar, and,
turning his face towards the south-west, he walked slowly away.
When the horse saw his master leaving the hill he stirred himself at
once and walked quietly after him, bringing the fifteen men away on his
back. And when the Feni saw this they raised a loud shout of laughter,
mocking them.
The Gilla Dacker, after he had walked some little way, looked back, and,
seeing that his horse was following, he stood for a moment to tuck up
his skirts. Then, all at once changing his pace, he set out with long,
active strides; and if you know what the speed of a swallow is flying
across a mountain-side, or the dry fairy wind of a March day sweeping
over the plains, then you can understand the swiftness of the Gilla
Dacker as he ran down the hill-side towards the south-west.
Neither was the horse behindhand in the race; for though he carried a
heavy load, he galloped like the wind after his master, plunging and
bounding forward with as much freedom as if he had nothing at all on his
back.
The men now tried to throw themselves off; but this, indeed, they were
not able to do, for the good reason that they found themselves fastened
firmly, hands and feet and all, to the horse's back.
And now Conan, looking round, raised his big voice and shouted to Finn
and the Feni, asking them were they content to let their friends be
carried off in that manner by such a horrible, foul-looking old spectre
of a horse.
Finn and the others, hearing this, seized their arms and started off in
pursuit. Now, the way the Gilla Dacker and his horse took was first
through Fermore, which is at the present day called Hy Conall Gavra;
next over the wide, heathy summit of Slieve Lougher; from that to Corca
Divna; and they ran along by Slieve Mish till they reached Cloghan
Kincat, near the deep green sea.
And so the great horse continued his course without stop or stay,
bringing the sixteen Feni with him through the sea. Now, this is how
they fared in the sea while the horse was rushing farther and farther to
the west: they had always a dry, firm strand under them, for the waters
retired before the horse; while behind them was a wild, raging sea,
which followed close after and seemed ready every moment to topple over
their heads. But, though the billows were tumbling and roaring all
round, neither horse nor riders were wetted by as much as a drop of
brine or a dash of spray.
Then Finn spoke and asked the chiefs what they thought best to be done;
and they told him they would follow whatsoever counsel he and Fergus
Finnvel, the poet, gave them. Then Finn told Fergus to speak his mind;
and Fergus said:
"My counsel is that we go straightway to Ben Edar, where we shall find a
ship ready to sail. For our forefathers, when they wrested the land from
the gifted, bright-complexioned Dedannans, bound them by covenant to
maintain this ship for ever, fitted with all things needful for a
voyage, even to the smallest article, as one of the privileges of Ben
Edar; so that if at any time one of the noble sons of Gael Glas wished
to sail to distant lands from Erin, he should have a ship lying at hand
in the harbour ready to begin his voyage."
They agreed to this counsel, and turned their steps without delay
northwards towards Ben Edar. They had not gone far when they met two
noble-looking youths, fully armed, and wearing over their armour
beautiful mantles of scarlet silk, fastened by brooches of gold. The
strangers saluted the King with much respect; and the King saluted them
in return. Then, having given them leave to converse, he asked them who
they were, whither they had come, and who the prince or chief was that
they served. And the elder answered:
"My name is Feradach, and my brother's name is Foltlebar; and we are the
two sons of the King of Innia. Each of us professes an art; and it has
long been a point of dispute between us which art is the better, my
brother's or mine. Hearing that there is not in the world a wiser or
more far-seeing man than thou art, O King, we have come to ask thee to
take us into thy service among thy household troops for a year, and at
the end of that time to give judgment between us in this matter."
Finn asked them what were the two arts they professed.
"My art," answered Feradach, "is this. If at any time a company of
warriors need a ship, give me only my joiner's axe and my crann-tavall,
and I am able to provide a ship for them without delay. The only think I
ask them to do is this--to cover their heads close, and keep them
covered, while I give the crann-tavall three blows of my axe. Then I
tell them to uncover their heads; and lo, there lies the ship in harbour
ready to sail!"
Then Foltlebar spoke and said, "This, O King, is the art I profess. On
land I can track the wild duck over nine ridges and nine glens, and
follow her without being once thrown out till I drop upon her in her
nest. And I can follow up a track on sea quite as well as on land if I
have a good ship and crew."
Finn replied, "You are the very men I want; and I now take you both into
my service. At this moment I need a good ship and a skilful pilot more
than any two things in the whole world."
Whereupon Finn told them the whole story of the Gilla Dacker's doings
from beginning to end. "And we are now," said he, "on our way to Ben
Edar to seek a ship that we may follow this giant and his horse and
rescue our companions."
Then Feradach said, "I will get you a ship--a ship that will sail as
swiftly as a swallow can fly!"
And Foltlebar said, "I will guide your ship in the track of the Gilla
Dacker till ye lay hands on him, in whatsoever quarter of the world he
may have hidden himself!"
And so they turned back to Cloghan Kincat. And when they had come to the
beach Feradach told them to cover their heads, and they did so. Then he
struck three blows of his axe on the crann-tavall; after which he made
them look. And lo, they saw a ship fully fitted out with oars and sails
and with all things needed for a long voyage riding before them in the
harbour!
Then they went on board and launched their ship on the cold, bright sea;
and Foltlebar was their pilot and steersman. And they set their sail and
plied their slender oars, and the ship moved swiftly westward till they
lost sight of the shores of Erin; and they saw nothing all round them
but a wide girdle of sea. After some days' sailing a great storm came
from the west, and the black waves rose up against them so that they had
much ado to keep their vessel from sinking. But through all the roaring
of the tempest, through the rain and blinding spray, Foltlebar never
stirred from the helm or changed his course, but still kept close on the
track of the Gilla Dacker.
At length the storm abated and the sea grew calm. And when the darkness
had cleared away they saw to the west, a little way off, a vast rocky
cliff towering over their heads to such a height that its head seemed
hidden among the clouds. It rose up sheer from the very water, and
looked at that distance as smooth as glass, so that at first sight
there seemed no way to reach the top.
Foltlebar, after examining to the four points of the sky, found the
track of the Gilla Dacker as far as the cliff, but no farther. And he
accordingly told the heroes that he thought it was on the top of that
rock the giant lived; and that, anyhow, the horse must have made his way
up the face of the cliff with their companions.
When the heroes heard this they were greatly cast down and puzzled what
to do; for they saw no way of reaching the top of the rock; and they
feared they should have to give up the quest and return without their
companions. And they sat down and looked up at the cliff with sorrow and
vexation in their hearts.
Fergus Finnvel, the poet, then challenged the hero Dermat O'Dyna to
climb the rock in pursuit of the Gilla Dacker, and he did so, and on
reaching the summit found himself in a beautiful fairy plain. He fared
across it and came to a great tree laden with fruit beside a well as
clear as crystal. Hard by, on the brink of the well, stood a tall pillar
stone, and on its top lay a golden-chased drinking horn. He filled the
horn from the well and drank, but had scarcely taken it from his lips
when he saw a fully armed wizard champion advancing to meet him with
looks and gestures of angry menace. The wizard upbraided him for
entering his territory without leave and for drinking out of his well
from his drinking horn, and thereupon challenged him to fight. For four
days long they fought, the wizard escaping from Dermat every even-fall
by leaping into the well and disappearing down through it. But on the
fourth evening Dermat closed with the wizard when about to spring into
the water, and fell with him into the well.
On reaching the bottom the wizard wrested himself away and started
running, and Dermat found himself in a strangely beautiful country with
a royal palace hard by, in front of which armed knights were engaged in
warlike exercises. Through them the wizard ran, but, when Dermat
attempted to follow, his way was barred by their threatening weapons.
Nothing daunted, he fell upon them in all his battle fury, and routed
them so entirely that they fled and shut themselves up in the castle or
took refuge in distant woods.
Overcome with his battle toil (and smarting all over with wounds) Dermat
fell into a dead sleep, from which he was wakened by a friendly blow
from the flat of a sword held by a young, golden-haired hero, who proved
to be the brother of the Knight of Valour, King of that country of
Tir-fa-tonn, whom in the guise of the Knight of the Fountain, Dermat had
fought and chased away.
A part of the kingdom belonging to him had been seized by his wizard
brother, and he now seeks and obtains Dermat's aid to win it back for
him.
When Dermat at last meets Finn and the other Feni who had gone in
pursuit of him into the Kingdom of Sorca, at the summit of the great
rock, he is able to relate how he headed the men of the Knight of Valour
against the Wizard King, and slew him and defeated his army.
"And now," continued he, bringing forth the Knight of Valour from among
the strange host, "this is he who was formerly called the Knight of
Valour, but who is now the King of Tir-fa-tonn. Moreover, this King has
told me, having himself found it out by his druidical art, that it was
Avarta the Dedannan (the son of Illahan of the Many-coloured Raiment)
who took the form of the Gilla Dacker, and who brought the sixteen Feni
away to the Land of Promise, where he now holds them in bondage."
Then Foltlebar at once found the tracks of the Gilla Dacker and his
horse. He traced them from the very edge of the rock across the plain to
the sea at the other side; and they brought round their ship and began
their voyage. But this time Foltlebar found it very hard to keep on the
track; for the Gilla Dacker, knowing that there were not in the world
men more skilled in following up a quest than the Feni, took great pains
to hide all traces of the flight of himself and his horse; so that
Foltlebar was often thrown out; but he always recovered the track after
a little time.
And so they sailed from island to island and from bay to bay, over many
seas and by many shores, ever following the track, till at length they
arrived at the Land of Promise. And when they had made the land, and
knew for a certainty that this was indeed the Land of Promise, they
rejoiced greatly; for in this land Dermat O'Dyna had been nurtured by
Mannanan Mac Lir of the Yellow Hair.
Then they held council as to what was best to be done; and Finn's advice
was that they should burn and spoil the country in revenge of the
outrage that had been done to his people. Dermat, however, would not
hear of this. And he said:
"Not so, O King. The people of this land are of all men the most skilled
in druidic art; and it is not well that they should be at feud with us.
Let us rather send to Avarta a trusty herald to demand that he should
set our companions at liberty. If he does so, then we shall be at peace;
if he refuse, then shall we proclaim war against him and his people, and
waste this land with fire and sword till he be forced, even by his own
people, to give us back our friends."
This advice was approved by all. And then Finn said:
"But how shall heralds reach the dwelling of this enchanter; for the
ways are not open and straight, as in other lands, but crooked and made
for concealment, and the valleys and plains are dim and shadowy and hard
to be traversed?"