And then the people of the hill rose up and went into the stream to

swim. And Caoilte said: "What ails me now not to go swim, since my

health has come back to me?" And with that he went into the water. And

afterwards they went back into the hill, and there was a great feast

made that night.

And Caoilte bade them farewell after that, and Cascorach, but Fermaise

stopped with them for a while. And the people of the hill gave good

gifts to Caoilte; a fringed crimson cloak of wool from the seven sheep

of the Land of Promise; and a fish-hook that was called Aicil mac Mogha,

and that could not be set in any river or inver but it would take fish;

and along with that they gave him a drink of remembrance, and after that

drink there would be no place he ever saw, or no battle or fight he ever

was in, but it would stay in his memory. "That is a good help from

kinsmen and from friends," said Caoilte.

Then Caoilte and Cascorach went out from the hill, and the people of it

made a great lamentation after them.

CHAPTER VIII. THE CAVE OF CRUACHAN

CAOLITE was one time at Cruachan of Connacht, and Cascorach was with

him, and there he saw sitting on a heap of stones a man with very rough

grey hair, having a dark brown cloak fastened with a pin of bronze, and

a long stick of white hazel in his hand; and there was a herd of cattle

before him in a fenced field.

Caoilte asked news of him. "I am steward to the King of Ireland," said

the old man, "and it is from him I hold this land. And we have great

troubles on us in this district," he said. "What troubles are those?"

said Caoilte. "I have many herds of cattle," he said, "and every year at

Samhain time, a woman comes out of the hill of the Sidhe of Cruachan and

brings away nine of the best out of every herd. And as to my name, I am

Bairnech, son of Carbh of Collamair of Bregia."

"Who was the best man that ever came out of Collamair?" said Caoilte. "I

know, and the men of Ireland and of Alban know," said he, "it was

Caoilte, son of Ronan. And do you know where is that man now?" he said.

"I myself am that man and your own kinsman," said Caoilte.

When Bairnech heard that, he gave him a great welcome, and Caoilte gave

him three kisses. "It seems to me that to-night is Samhain night," said

Caoilte. "If that is so, it is to-night the woman will come to rob us,"

said Bernech. "Let me go to-night to the door of the hill of the Sidhe,"

said Cascorach. "You may do that, and bring your arms with you," said

Caoilte.

So Cascorach went then, and it was not long till he saw the girl going

past him out of the hill of Cruachan, having a beautiful cloak of one

colour about her; a gown of yellow silk tied up with a knot between her

thighs, two spears in her hands, and she not in dread of anything before

her or after her.

Then Cascorach blew a blast against her, and put his finger into the

thong of his spear, and made a cast at the girl that went through her,

and that is the way she was made an end of by Cascorach of the Music.

And then Bernech said to Caoilte: "Caoilte," he said, "do you know the

other oppression that is on me in this place?" "What oppression is

that?" said Caoilte. "Three she-wolves that come out of the Cave of

Cruachan every year and destroy our sheep and our wethers, and we can do

nothing against them, and they go back into the cave again. And it will

be a good friend that will rid us of them," he said. "Well, Cascorach,"

said Caoilte, "do you know what are the three wolves that are robbing

this man?" "I know well," said Cascorach, "they are the three daughters

of Airetach, of the last of the people of oppression of the Cave of

Cruachan, and it is easier for them to do their robbery as wolves than

as women." "And will they come near to any one?" said Caoilte. "They

will only come near to one sort," said Cascorach; "if they see the

world's men having harps for music, they will come near to them." "And

how would it be for me," he said, "to go to-morrow to the cairn beyond,

and to bring my harp with me?"

So in the morning he rose up and went to the cairn and stopped on it,

playing his harp till the coming of the mists of the evening. And while

he was there he saw the three wolves coming towards him, and they lay

down before him, listening to the music. But Cascerach found no way to

make an attack on them, and they went back into the cave at the end of

the day.

Cascorach went back then to Caoilte and told him what had happened. "Go

up to-morrow to the same place," said Caoilte, "and say to them it would

be better for them to be in the shape of women for listening to music

than in the shape of wolves."

So on the morrow Cascorach went out to the same cairn, and set his

people about it, and the wolves came there and stretched themselves to

listen to the music. And Cascorach was saying to them: "If you were ever

women," he said, "it would be better for you to be listening to the

music as women than as wolves." And they heard that, and they threw off

the dark trailing coverings that were about them, for they liked well

the sweet music of the Sidhe.

And when Caoilte saw them there side by side, and elbow by elbow, he

made a cast of his spear, and it went through the three women, that they

were like a skein of thread drawn together on the spear. And that is the

way he made an end of the strange, unknown three. And that place got the

name of the Valley of the Shapes of the Wolves.

CHAPTER IX. THE WEDDING AT CEANN SLIEVE

Finn and the Fianna made a great hunting one time on the hill of Torc

that is over Loch Lein and Feara Mor. And they went on with their

hunting till they came to pleasant green Slieve Echtge, and from that it

spread over other green-topped hills, and through thick tangled woods,

and rough red-headed hills, and over the wide plains of the country. And

every chief man among them chose the place that was to his liking, and

the gap of danger he was used to before. And the shouts they gave in the

turns of the hunt were heard in the woods all around, so that they

started the deer in the wood, and sent the foxes wandering, and the

little red beasts climbing rocks, and badgers from their holes, and

birds flying, and fawns running their best. Then they let out their

angry small-headed hounds and set them hunting. And it is red the hands

of the Fianna were that day, and it is proud they were of their hounds

that were torn and wounded before evening.

It happened that day no one stopped with Finn but only Diorraing, son of

Domhar. "Well, Diorraing," said Finn, "let you watch for me while I go

asleep, for it is early I rose to-day, and it is an early rising a man

makes when he cannot see the shadow of his five fingers between himself

and the light of day, or know the leaves of the hazel from the leaves of

the oak." With that he fell into a quiet sleep that lasted till the

yellow light of the evening. And the rest of the Fianna, not knowing

where he was gone, gave over the hunt.

And the time was long to Diorraing while Finn was asleep, and he roused

him and told him the Fianna must have given up the hunt, for he could

not hear a cry or a whistle from them. "The end of day is come," said

Finn then, "and we will not follow them to-night. And go now to the

wood," he said, "and bring timber and dead branches for a shelter, and I

will go looking for food for the night." So Diorraing went to the wood,

but he was not gone far till he saw a fine well-lighted house of the

Sidhe before him on the edge of the wood near at hand, and he went back

to Finn with the news. "Let us go to it," said Finn, "for we ought not

to be working in this place, and people living so near at hand." They

went then to the door of the house and knocked at it, and the

door-keeper came to it. "Whose house is this?" said Diorraing. "It

belongs to Conan of Ceann Slieve," said the door-keeper. "Tell him,"

said Diorraing, "there are two of the Fianna of the Gael at the door."

The door-keeper went in then and told Conan there were two men of the

Fianna at the door. "The one of them," he said, "is young and strong,

and quiet and fair-haired, and more beautiful than the rest of the men

of the world, and he has in his hand a small-headed, white-breasted

hound, having a collar of rubbed gold and a chain of old silver. And the

other of them," he said, "is brown and ruddy and white-toothed, and he

is leading a yellow-spotted hound by a chain of bright bronze." "It is

well you have made your report of them," said Conan, "and I know them by

it; for the man you spoke of first is Finn, son of Cumhal, Head of the

Fianna of Ireland, and Bran in his hand; and the other is Diorraing, and

Sceolan in his hand. And go now quickly and let them in," he said.

Finn and Diorraing were brought in then, and they got good attendance,

and their arms were taken from them, and a grand feast was made ready

that pleased them well. And the wife of Conan was at the one side of

Finn, and his daughter, Finndealbh, of the Fair Shape, was at his other

side. And they had a great deal of talk together, and at last, seeing

her so beautiful, the colour of gold on her curled hair, and her eyes as

blue as flowers, and a soft four-cornered cloak fastened at her breast

with a silver pin, he asked her of Conan for his wife. "Leave asking

that, Finn," said Conan, "for your own courage is not greater than the

courage of the man she is promised to." "Who is that?" said Finn. "He is

Fatha, son of the King of Ess Ruadh," said Conan. "Your wounds and your

danger on yourself," said Diorraing; "and it would be right," he said,

"that stammering tongue that gave out those words to be tied and to be

shortened for ever, and a drink of death to be given to you; for if the

whole of the Men of Dea," he said, "could be put into the one body, Finn

would be better than them all." "Leave off, Diorraing," said Finn, "for

it is not fighting I am here, but asking a wife, and I will get her

whether the Men of Dea think good or bad of it." "I will not be making a

quarrel with you," said Conan, "but I put you under bonds as a true

hero to answer me everything I am going to ask you." "I will do that,"

said Finn.

With that Conan put questions to Finn as to his birth and his rearing,

and the deeds he had done since he came to the Fianna, and Finn gave

full answers to them all. And at last he said: "Let us go on with this

no longer, but if you have musicians with you, let them be brought to us

now; for it is not my custom," he said, "to be for a single night

without music." "Tell me this first," said Conan, "who was it made the

Dord Fiann, the Mutterer of the Fianna, and when was it made?" "I will

tell you the truth of that," said Finn; "it was made in Ireland by the

three sons of Cearmait Honey-Mouth; and nine men used to be sounding it,

and since it came to me I have fifty men sounding it." "And tell me

this," said Conan, "what is the music pleased you best of all you ever

heard?" "I will tell you that," said Finn; "the time the seven

battalions of the Fianna are gathered in the one place and raise their

spear-shafts over their heads, and the sharp whining of the clear, cold

wind goes through them, that is very sweet to me. And when the

drinking-hall is set out in Almhuin, and the cup-bearers give out the

bright cups to the chief men of the Fianna, that is very sweet to me;

and it is sweet to me to be listening to the voice of the sea-gull and

the heron, and the noise of the waves of Traig Liath, the song of the

three sons of Meardha, the whistle of Lugaidh's Son, and the voice of

the cuckoo in the beginning of summer, and the grunting of the pigs on

the Plain of Eithne, and the shouting of laughter in Doire." And it is

what he said: "The Dord in the green-topped woods, the lasting wash of

the waves against the shore, the noise of the waves at Traig Liath

meeting with the river of the White Trout; the three men that came to

the Fianna, a man of them gentle and a man of them rough, another man of

them ploughing the clouds, they were sweeter than any other thing.

"The grey mane of the sea, the time a man cannot follow its track; the

swell that brings the fish to the land, it is sleep-music, its sound is

sweet.

"Feargall, son of Fionn, a man that was ready-handed, it is long his

leap was, it is well marked his track is; he never gave a story that did

not do away with secrets; it is his voice was music of sleep to me."

And when Finn had answered all the questions so well, Conan said he

would give him his daughter, and that he would have a wedding-feast

ready at the end of a month.

They spent the rest of the night then in sleep; but Finn saw a dreadful

vision through his sleep that made him start three times from his bed.

"What makes you start from your bed, Finn?" said Diorraing. "It was the

Tuatha de Danaan I saw," said he, "taking up a quarrel against me, and

making a great slaughter of the Fianna."

Now as to the Fianna, they rested at Fotharladh of Moghna that night,

and they were downhearted, having no tidings of Finn. And early on the

morrow two of them, Bran Beag and Bran Mor, rose up and went to

Mac-an-Reith, son of the Ram, that had the gift of true knowledge, and

they asked him where did Finn spend the night. And Mac-an-Reith was

someway unwilling to tell them, but at the last he said it was at the

house of Conan of Ceann Slieve.

The two Brans went on then to Conan's house, and Finn made them welcome;

but they blamed him when they heard he was taking a wife, and none of

his people with him. "Bid all the Fianna to come to the feast at the end

of a month," said Conan then. So Finn and Diorraing and the two Brans

went back to where the Fianna were and told them all that had happened,

and they went on to Almhuin.

And when they were in the drinking-hall at Almhuin that night, they saw

the son of the King of Ireland coming to where they were. "It is a pity

the king's son to have come," said Finn; "for he will not be satisfied

without ordering everything in the hall in his own way." "We will not

take his orders," said Oisin, "but we will leave the half of the hall to

him, and keep the other half ourselves."

So they did that; but it happened that in the half of the house that was

given up to the King of Ireland's son, there were sitting two of the Men

of Dea, Failbhe Mor and Failbhe Beag; and it is what they said, that it

is because they were in that side of the hall it was given up. "It is a

pity," said Failbhe Beag, "this shame and this great insult to have been

put on us to-night; and it is likely Finn has a mind to do more than

that again to us," he said, "for he is going to bring away the woman

that is promised to the third best man of the Tuatha de Danaan, and

against the will of her father and mother." And these two went away

early in the morning to Fionnbhar of Magh Feabhail, and told him of the

insults Finn and the Fianna of Ireland had a mind to put on the Tuatha

de Danaan.

And when Fionnbhar that was king over the Tuatha de Danaan heard that,

he sent out messengers through the length of Ireland to gather them all

to him. And there came six good battalions to him on the edge of Loch

Derg Dheirc at the end of a month; and it was the same day Conan had the

wedding-feast made ready for Finn and his people.

And Finn was at Teamhair Luachra at that time, and when he heard the

feast was ready, he set out to go to it. And it chanced that the most of

the men he had with him at that time were of the sons of Morna. And when

they were on their way, Finn said to Goll, "O Goll," he said, "I never

felt any fear till now going to a feast. And there are but few of my

people with me," he said; "and I know there is no good thing before me,

but the Men of Dea are going to raise a quarrel against me and to kill

my people." "I will defend you against anything they may do," said Goll.

They went on then to Conan's house, and there was a welcome before them,

and they were brought into the drinking-hall, and Finn was put in the

place beside the door, and Goll on his right and Finndeilb, of the Fair

Shape, on his left, and all the rest in the places they were used to.

And as to Fionnbhar of Magh Feabhail and the Tuatha de Danaan, they put

a Druid mist about themselves and went on, hidden and armed, in sixteen

battalions, to the lawn before Conan's house. "It is little profit we

have being here," they said then, "and Goll being with Finn against us."

"Goll will not protect him this time," said Ethne, the woman-Druid, "for

I will entice Finn out of the house, however well he is watched."

She went on to the house then, and took her stand before Finn outside.

"Who is that before me?" she said then. "It is I myself," said Finn. "I

put you under the bonds a true hero never broke," she said, "to come out

to me here." When Finn heard that, he made no delay and went out to her;

and for all there were so many in the house, not one of them took notice

of him going, only Caoilte, and he followed him out. And at the same

time the Tuatha de Danaan let out a flock of blackbirds having fiery

beaks, that pitched on the breasts of all the people in the house, and

burned them and destroyed them, till the young lads and the women and

children of the place ran out on all sides, and the woman of the house,

Conan's wife, was drowned in the river outside the dun.

But as to Ethne, the woman-Druid, she asked Finn would he run against

her. "For it is to run a race against you I called you out," she said.

"What length of a race?" said Finn. "From Doire da Torc, the Wood of the

Two Boars, to Ath Mor, the Great Ford," she said. So they set out, but

Finn got first over the ford. And Caoilte was following after them, and

Finn was urging him, and he said: "It is ashamed of your running you

should be, Caoilte, a woman to be going past you." On that Caoilte made

a leap forward, and when he was in front of the witch he turned about

and gave a blow of his sword that made two equal halves of her.

"Power and good luck to you, Caoilte!" said Finn; "for though it is many

a good blow you have struck, you never struck a better one than this."

They went back then to the lawn before Conan's dun, and there they found

the whole company of the Tuatha de Danaan, that had put the Druid mist

off them. "It seems to me, Caoilte," said Finn, "that we are come into

the middle of our enemies."

With that they turned their backs to one another, and they were attacked

on all sides till groans of weakness from the unequal fight were forced

from Finn. And when Goll, that was in the house, heard that, he said:

"It is a pity the Tuatha de Danaan to have enticed Finn and Caoilte away

from us; and let us go to their help and make no delay," he said.

Then he rushed out, and all that were there of the Fianna with him, and

Conan of Ceann Slieve and his sons. And great anger came on Goll, that

he looked like a tall mountain under his grey shield in the battle. And

he broke through the Tuatha de Danaan till he reached to Fionnbhar their

leader, and they attacked one another, cutting and wounding, till at the

last Fionnbhar of Magh Feabhail fell by the strokes of Goll. And a great

many others fell in that battle, and there never was a harder battle

fought in Ireland, for there was no man on one side or the other had a

mind to go back one step before whoever he was fighting against. For

they were the two hardest fighting troops to be found in the four parts

of the world, the strong, hardy Fianna of the Gael, and the beautiful

Men of Dea; and they went near to being all destroyed in that battle.

But after a while they saw the rest of the Fianna that were not in the

battle coming from all parts of Ireland. And when the Tuatha de Danaan

saw them coming, they put the Druid mist about themselves again and made

away. And clouds of weakness came on Finn himself, and on them that were

with him, with the dint of the fight. And there were many men of the

Fianna lost in that battle; and as to the rest, it is a long time they

stopped in Almhuin of Leinster, till their wounds were entirely healed.

CHAPTER X. THE SHADOWY ONE

And indeed Finn had no great luck in going to look for a wife that time;

and he had no better luck another time he asked a wife from among the

Sidhe. And this is the way that happened.

It was on the mountain of Bearnas Mor he was hunting, and a great wild

pig turned on the hounds of the Fianna and killed the most of them, but

Bran made an attack on it then and got the best of it. And the pig began

to scream, and with that a very tall man came out of the hill and he

asked Finn to let the pig go free. And when he agreed to that, the man

brought them into the hill of the Sidhe at Glandeirgdeis; and when they

came to the door of the house he struck the pig with his Druid rod, and

on the moment it changed into a beautiful young woman, and the name he

called her by was Scathach, the Shadowy One.

And he made a great feast for the Fianna, and Finn asked the young girl

in marriage, and the tall man, her father, said he would give her to him

on that very night.

But when night came on, Scathach asked the loan of a harp, and it was

brought to her. One string it had of iron, and one of bronze, and one of

silver. And when the iron string would be played, it would set all the

hosts of the world crying and ever crying; and when the bright bronze

string would be played, it would set them all laughing from the one day

to the same hour on the morrow; and when the silver string would be

played, all the men of the whole world would fall into a long sleep.

And it is the sleepy silver string the Shadowy One played upon, till

Finn and Bran and all his people were in their heavy sleep.

And when they awoke at the rising of the sun on the morrow, it is

outside on the mountain of Bearnas they were, where they first saw the

wild pig.

CHAPTER XI. FINN'S MADNESS

One time Finn and the Fianna were come to a ford of the Slaine, and they

sat down for a while. And as they were sitting there they saw on the

round rock up over the ford a young woman, having a dress of silk and a

green cloak about her, and a golden brooch in the cloak, and the golden

crown that is the sign of a queen on her head. "Fianna of Ireland," she

said, "let one of you come now and speak with me."

Then Sciathbreac, of the Speckled Shield, went towards her. "Who is it

you are wanting?" he said, "Finn, son of Cumhal," said she. Finn went

over then to talk with her. "Who are you?" he said, "and what is it you

are wanting?" "I am Daireann, daughter of Bodb Dearg, son of the Dagda,"

she said; "and I am come to be your wife if you will give me the

bride-gift I ask." "What bride-gift is that?" said Finn. "It is your

promise," said she, "I to be your only wife through the length of a

year, and to have the half of your time after that." "I will not give

that promise," said Finn, "to any woman of the world, and I will not

give it to you," he said.

On that the young woman took a cup of white silver from under a

covering, and filled it with strong drink, and she gave it to Finn.

"What is this?" said Finn. "It is very strong mead," said she. Now there

were bonds on Finn not to refuse anything belonging to a feast, so he

took the cup and drank what was in it, and on the moment he was like one

gone mad. And he turned his face towards the Fianna, and every harm and

every fault and every misfortune in battle that he knew against any one

of them, he sprang it on them, through the mad drunkenness the young

woman had put on him.

Then the chief men of the Fianna of Ireland rose up and left the place

to him, every one of them setting out for his own country, till there

was no one left upon the hill but Finn and Caoilte. And Caoilte rose up

and followed after them, and he said: "Fianna of Ireland," he said, "do

not leave your lord and your leader through the arts and the tricks of a

woman of the Sidhe." Thirteen times he went after them, bringing them

back to the hill in that way. And with the end of the day and the fall

of night the bitterness went from Finn's tongue; and by the time Caoilte

had brought back the whole of the Fianna, his sense and his memory were

come back to him, and he would sooner have fallen on his sword and got

his death, than have stayed living.

And that was the hardest day's work Caoilte ever did, unless the day he

brought the flock of beasts and birds to Teamhair, to ransom Finn from

the High King of Ireland.

Another time Maer, wife of Bersa of Berramain, fell in love with Finn,

and she made nine nuts of Segair with love charms, and sent them to

Finn, and bade him eat them. "I will not," said Finn; "for they are not

nuts of knowledge, but nuts of ignorance; and it is not known what they

are, unless they might be an enchantment for drinking love." So he

buried them a foot deep in the earth.

CHAPTER XII. THE RED WOMAN

One time the Fianna were in Almhuin with no great work to do, and there

came a very misty morning, and Finn was in dread that sluggishness would

come on his men, and he rose up, and he said: "Make yourselves ready,

and we will go hunting to Gleann-na-Smol."

They all said the day was too misty to go hunting; but there was no use

in talking: they had to do as Finn bade them. So they made themselves

ready and went on towards Gleann-na-Smol; and they were not gone far

when the mist lifted and the sun came shining out.

And when they were on the edge of a little wood, they saw a strange

beast coming towards them with the quickness of the wind, and a Red

Woman on its track. Narrow feet the beast had, and a head like the head

of a boar, and long horns on it; but the rest of it was like a deer, and

there was a shining moon on each of its sides.

Finn stopped, and he said: "Fianna of Ireland," he said, "did you ever

see a beast like that one until now?" "We never did indeed," said they;

"and it would be right for us to let out the hounds after it." "Wait a

while," said Finn, "till I speak with the Red Woman; but do not let the

beast go past you," he said. They thought to keep back the beast then,

going before it; but they were hardly able to hinder it at all, and it

went away through them.

And when the Red Woman was come up to them, Finn asked her what was the

name of the beast she was following. "I do not know that," she said,

"though I am on its track since I left the borders of Loch Dearg a month

ago, and I never lost sight of it since then; and the two moons that are

on its two sides shine through the country all around in the night time.

And I must follow it till it falls," she said, "or I will lose my own

life and the lives of my three sons that are the best fighting men in

the whole world." "We will take the beast for you if you have a mind,"

said Finn. "Do not try to do that," she said, "for I myself am swifter

than you are, and I cannot come up with it." "We will not let it go till

we know what sort of a beast is it," said Finn. "If you yourself or your

share of men go after it, I will bind you hand and foot," said she. "It

is too stiff your talk is," said Finn. "And do you not know," he said,

"I am Finn, son of Cumhal; and there are fourscore fighting men along

with me that were never beaten yet." "It is little heed I give to

yourself or your share of men," said the Red Woman; "and if my three

sons were here, they would stand up against you." "Indeed it will be a

bad day," said Finn, "when the threat of a woman will put fear on myself

or on the Fianna of Ireland." With that he sounded his horn, and he

said: "Let us all follow now, men and dogs, after that beast that we

saw."

He had no sooner said that word than the woman made a great water-worm

of herself, and made an attack on Finn, and she would have killed him

then and there but for Bran being with him. Bran took a grip of the worm

and shook it, and then it wound itself round Bran's body, and would

have crushed the life out of her, but Finn thrust his sharp sword into

its throat. "Keep back your hand," said the worm then, "and you will not

have the curse of a lonely woman upon you." "It is what I think," said

Finn, "that you would not leave me my life if you could take it from me;

but go out of my sight now," he said, "and that I may never see you

again."

Then she made herself into a Red Woman again, and went away into the

wood.

All the Fianna were gone on the track of the beast while Finn was

talking and fighting with the Red Woman; and he did not know in what

place they were, but he went following after them, himself and Bran. It

was late in the evening when he came up with a share of them, and they

still on the track of the beast. The darkness of the night was coming

on, but the two moons in the sides of the beast gave a bright light, and

they never lost it from sight. They followed it on always; and about

midnight they were pressing on it, and it began to scatter blood after

it, and it was not long till Finn and his men were red from head to

foot. But that did not hinder them, and they followed him on till they

saw him going in at the foot of Cnoc-na-righ at the breaking of day.

When they came to the foot of the hill the Red Woman was standing there

before them. "You did not take the beast," she said. "We did not take

it, but we know where it is," said Finn.

She took a Druid rod then, and she struck a blow on the side of the

hill, and on the moment a great door opened, and they heard sweet music

coming from within. "Come in now," said the Red Woman, "till you see the

wonderful beast." "Our clothing is not clean," said Finn, "and we would

not like to go in among a company the way we are," he said.

She put a horn to her mouth and blew it, and on the moment there came

ten young men to her. "Bring water for washing," she said, "and four

times twenty suits of clothes, and a beautiful suit and a crown of

shining stones for Finn, son of Cumhal." The young men went away then,

and they came back at the end of a minute with water and with clothing.

When the Fianna were washed and dressed, the Red Woman brought them into

a great hall, where there was the brightness of the sun and of the moon

on every side. From that she brought them into another great room; and

although Finn and his men had seen many grand things up to that time,

they had never seen any sight so grand as what they saw in this place.

There was a king sitting in a golden chair, having clothes of gold and

of green, and his chief people were sitting around him, and his

musicians were playing. And no one could know what colour were the

dresses of the musicians, for every colour of the rainbow was in them.

And there was a great table in the middle of the room, having every sort

of thing on it, one better than another.

The king rose up and gave a welcome to Finn and to his men, and he bade

them to sit down at the table; and they ate and drank their fill, and

that was wanting to them after the hunt they had made. And then the Red

Woman rose up, and she said: "King of the Hill, if it is your will, Finn

and his men have a mind to see the wonderful beast, for they spent a

long time following after it, and that is what brought them here."

The king struck a blow then on his golden chair, and a door opened

behind him, and the beast came through it and stood before the king. And

it stooped down before him, and it said: "I am going on towards my own

country now; and there is not in the world a runner so good as myself,

and the sea is the same to me as the land. And let whoever can come up

with me come now," it said, "for I am going."

With that the beast went out from the hill as quick as a blast of wind,

and all the people that were in it went following after it. It was not

long till Finn and his men were before the rest, in the front of the

hunt, gaining on the beast.

And about midday Bran made the beast turn, and then she forced it to

turn a second time, and it began to put out cries, and it was not long

until its strength began to flag; and at last, just at the setting of

the sun, it fell dead, and Bran was at its side when it fell.

Then Finn and his men came up, but in place of a beast it was a tall man

they saw lying dead before them. And the Red Woman came up at the same

time, and she said: "High King of the Fianna, that is the King of the

Firbolgs you have killed; and his people will put great troubles on this

country in the time to come, when you yourself, Finn, and your people

will be under the sod. And I myself am going now to the Country of the

Young," she said, "and I will bring you with me if you have a mind to

come." "We give you our thanks for that," said Finn, "but we would not

give up our own country if we were to get the whole world as an estate,

and the Country of the Young along with it." "That is well," said the

Red Woman; "but you are going home empty after your hunt." "It is likely

we will find a deer in Gleann-na-Smol," said Finn. "There is a fine deer

at the foot of that tree beyond," said the Red Woman, "and I will rouse

it for you." With that she gave a cry, and the deer started out and

away, and Finn and his men after it, and it never stopped till it came

to Gleann-na-Smol, but they could not come up with it. Then the Red

Woman came to them, and she said: "I think you are tired now with

following after the deer; and call your hounds off now," she said, "and

I will let out my own little dog after it." So Finn sounded a little

horn he had at his side, and on the moment the hounds came back to him.

And then the Red Woman brought out a little hound as white as the snow

of the mountains, and put it after the deer; and it was not long till it

had come up with the deer and killed it, and then it came back and made

a leap in under the cloak of the Red Woman. There was great wonder on

Finn; but before he could ask a question of the Red Woman, she was gone

out of sight. And as to the deer, Finn knew there was enchantment on it,

and so he left it there after him. And it is tired and empty the Fianna

were, going back to Almhuin that night.

CHAPTER XIII. FINN AND THE PHANTOMS

Finn went to a gathering one time at Aonach Clochair, and a great many

of the men of Munster crowded to it. And the horses of the Fianna were

brought there, and the horses of the men of Munster, and they ran races

against one another.

And Fiachu, son of Eoghan, was in it; and when the games were over he

gave good presents to Finn, a lasting black horse that won the three

prizes of the gathering, and a chariot, and a horse for the

chariot-driver, and a spear, having a deadly spell, and weapons of

silver, and three comely hounds, Feirne and Derchaem and Dialath, having

collars of yellow gold and chains of white bronze.

And Finn rose up and gave his thanks to Fiachu, son of Eoghan, and he

and his people set out to the house of Cacher at Cluain-da-loch. And

they stopped three days feasting in Cacher's house, and then Finn gave

him the price of his feast and of his ale, fifty rings, and fifty horses

and fifty cows.

And he himself and the Fianna went on from that over Luachair to the

strand at Berramain. And Finn went trying his black horse on the strand,

and Caoilte and Oisin went racing against him; but it was only folly for

them to do that, for he gave a blow to his horse, and away with him to

Traigh Liath and over the Plain of Health to the Old Yew of the Old

Valley, and to the inver of the Flesc and the inver of the Lemain to

Loch Lein, till he came to the hill of Bairnech, and Caoilte and Oisin

after him.

"Night is coming on us," said Finn then; "and go look for some place

where we can sleep," he said. He looked round then at the rocks on his

left hand and he saw a house, and a fire shining out from it in the

valley below. "I never knew of a house in this valley," he said.

"It is best for us to go see it," said Caoilte, "for there are many

things we have no knowledge of."

The three went on then to the house, and they heard screams and crying

from it; and when they came to the house, the people of it were very

fierce and rough; and a big grey man took hold of their horses and

brought them in and shut the door of the house with iron hooks. "My

welcome to you, Finn of the great name," he said then; "it is a long

time you were in coming here."

They sat down then on the hard boards of a bed, and the grey man kindled

a fire, and he threw logs of elder-wood on it, till they went near being

smothered with the smoke. They saw a hag in the house then having three

heads on her lean neck; and there was on the other side a man without a

head, having one eye, and it in his breast. "Rise up, you that are in

the house, and make music for the King of the Fianna," said the grey man

then.

With that nine bodies rose up out of the corner nearest the Fianna, and

nine heads rose up on the other side of the bed, and they raised nine

harsh screeches together, that no one would like to be listening to. And

then the hag answered to them, and the headless man answered; and if all

of that music was harsh, there was none of it that you would not wish to

hear sooner than the music of the one-eyed man. And the music that was

sung went near to breaking the bones of their heads; and indeed it is no

sweet music that was.

Then the big grey man rose up and took the axe that was for cutting

logs, and he began striking at the horses, flaying and destroying them.

Then there were brought fifty pointed spits of the rowan-tree, and he

put a piece of the horse's flesh on each one of the spits, and settled

them on the hearth. But when he took the spits from the fire and put

them before Finn, it is raw the flesh was on them yet. "Take your food

away," said Finn then, "for I have never eaten meat that was raw, and I

never will eat it because of being without food for one day." "If you

are come into our house to refuse our food," said the grey man, "we will

surely go against yourselves, Finn and Caoilte and Oisin."

With that all in the house made an attack on the three; and they were

driven back into the corner, and the fire was quenched, and the fight

went on through the whole night in the darkness, and but for Finn and

the way he fought, they would have been put down.

And when the sun rose and lighted up the house on the morrow, a mist

came into the head of each of the three, so that they fell as if dead on

the floor.

But after awhile they rose up again, and there was nothing to be seen of

the house or of the people of the house, but they had all vanished. And

their horses were there, and they took them and went on, very weak and

tired, for a long way, till they came to the strand of Berramain.

And those three that fought against them were the three Shapes out of

the Valley of the Yew Tree that came to avenge their sister, Cuillen of

the Wide Mouth.

Now as to Cuillen, she was a daughter of the King of Munster, and her

husband was the King of Ulster's son. And they had a son that was called

Fear Og, the Young Man; and there was hardly in Ireland a man so good as

himself in shape and in courage and in casting a spear. And one time he

joined in a game with the Fianna, and he did better than them all, and

Finn gave him a great reward. And after that he went out to a hunt they

made, and it was by him and by none of the Fianna the first blood was

got of pig or of deer. And when they came back, a heavy sickness fell on

the young man through the eyes and the envy of the Fianna, and it left

him without life at the end of nine days. And he was buried under a

green hill, and the shining stone he used to hold in his hand, and he

doing his feats, was put over his head.

And his mother, Cuillen, came to his grave keening him every day through

the length of a year. And one day she died there for grief after her

son, and they put her into the same green hill.

But as to Finn, he was afraid of no earthly thing, and he killed many

great serpents in Loch Cuilinn and Loch Neathach, and at Beinn Edair;

and Shadow-Shapes at Loch Lein and Drom Cleib and Loch Liath, and a

serpent and a cat in Ath Cliath.

CHAPTER XIV. THE PIGS OF ANGUS

Angus Og, son of the Dagda, made a feast one time at Brugh na Boinne for

Finn and the Fianna of the Gael. Ten hundred of them were in it, and

they wearing green clothing and crimson cloaks; and as to the people of

Angus' house, it is clothing of red silk they had.

And Finn was sitting beside Angus in the beautiful house, and it is

long since the like of those two were seen in Ireland. And any stranger

would wonder to see the way the golden cups were going from hand to

hand.

And Angus said out in a loud voice that every one could hear: "It is a

better life this is than to be hunting." There was anger on Finn then,

and he said: "It is a worse life than hunting to be here, without

hounds, without horses, without battalions, without the shouting of

armies." "Why are you talking like that, Finn?" said Angus, "for as to

the hounds you have," he said, "they would not kill so much as one pig."

"You have not yourself," said Finn, "and the whole host of the Tuatha de

Danaan have not a pig that ever went on dry land that Bran and Sceolan

would not kill." "I will send you a pig," said Angus, "that will go from

you and your hounds, and that will kill them in the end."

The steward of the house called out then in a loud voice: "Let every one

go now to his bed, before the lightness of drunkenness comes on you."

But Finn said to his people: "Let us make ready and leave this; for we

are but a few," he said, "among the Men of Dea." So they set out and

went westward till they came to Slieve Fuad where the Fianna were at

that time.

And through the whole length of a year after that, the Tuatha de Danaan

were boasting how they would get the better of the Fianna, and the

Fianna were thinking how they could do best in the hunt. And at the end

of that time Angus sent messengers to Finn, asking him with great

respect if he was ready to keep his word. And Finn said he was, and the

hounds were brought out, and he himself was holding Bran and Sceolan,

one in each hand, and Caoilte had Adhnuall, and Oisin had Ablach, and

merry Bran Beag had Lonn, and Diarmuid was holding Eachtach, and Osgar

was holding Mac an Truim, and Garraidh was held by Faolan, and Rith

Fada, of the Long Run, by hungry Conan.

And they were not long there with their hounds till they saw on the

plain to the east a terrible herd of great pigs, every one of them the

height of a deer. And there was one pig out in front of the rest was

blacker than a smith's coal, and the bristles on its head were like a

thicket of thorn-trees.

Then Caoilte let out Adhnuall, and she was the first to kill a pig of

the herd. And then Bran made away from the leash that Finn was holding,

and the pigs ran their best, but she came up with them, and took hold of

a pig of them. And at that Angus said: "O Bran, fosterling of

fair-haired Fergus, it is not a right thing you are doing, to kill my

own son." But when Bran heard that, her ways changed and it was like an

enemy she took hold of the pig, and did not let it go, and held her

breath back and kept it for the Fianna.

And it was over Slieve Cua the hunt went, and Slieve Crot, and from Magh

Cobha to Cruachan, and to Fionnabraic and to Finnias. And at evening

when the hunt was over, there was not one pig of the whole herd without

a hurt, and there were but a hundred and ten pigs left living. But if

the hunt brought destruction on Angus, it brought losses on the Fianna

as well, for there were ten hundred of their men missing besides

serving-lads and dogs.

"Let us go to Brugh na Boinne and get satisfaction for our people," said

Oisin then. "That is the advice of a man without sense," said Finn; "for

if we leave these pigs the way they are, they will come to life again.

And let us burn them," he said, "and throw their ashes in the sea."

Then the seven battalions of the Fianna made seven fires to every

battalion; but for all they could do, they could not set fire to one

pig. Then Bran, that had great sense and knowledge, went away, and she

came back bringing three logs along with her, but no one knows what wood

it was they came from. And when the logs were put on the fire they lit

up like a candle, and it is with them the pigs were burned; and after

that their ashes were thrown into the sea.

Then Oisin said again: "Let us go now to Brugh na Boinne and avenge the

death of our people." So the whole of the Fianna set out for Brugh na

Boinne, and every step they made could surely be heard through the whole

of the skies.

And Angus sent out messengers to where Finn was, offering any one thing

to him if he would spare his people. "I will take no gift at all from

you, Angus of the slender body," said Finn, "so long as there is a room

left in your house, north or east, without being burned." But Angus

said: "Although you think bad of the loss of your fine people that you

have the sway over, yet, O Finn, father of Oisin, it is sorrowful to me

the loss of my own good son is. For as to the black pig that came before

you on the plain," he said, "it was no common pig was in it, but my own

son. And there fell along with him," he said, "the son of the King of

the Narrow Sea, and the son of the King of the Sea of Gulls, and the son

of Ilbhrec, son of Manannan, and seven score of the comely sons of kings

and queens. And it is what destroyed my strength and my respect

entirely, they to have been burned away from me in a far place. And it

is a pity for you, sweet daring Bran," he said, "fosterling of Fergus of

the thirty woods and plains, that you did not do something worth praise

before killing your own foster-brother. And I will put a curse on you,

Bran," he said, "beyond every hound in Ireland, that you will never see

with your eyes any deer you may ever kill."

There was anger on Finn when he heard that, and he said: "If you put a

curse on Bran, Angus, there will not be a room left, east or west, in

the whole of your great house without being burned." "If you do that,"

said Angus, "I will put trees and stones in front of you in every

battle; and I will know what number of men you have in your armies," he

said, "looking at them through my ring."

Then Oisin, that was wise, said: "It is best for you to agree between

yourselves now; and let us be helpful to one another," he said, "and pay

whatever fines are due."

So they agreed to that, and they made peace, and gave children to be

fostered by one another: a son of Finn's to Angus, and son of Angus Og

to the Fianna.

But for all that, it is not very friendly to Finn Angus was afterwards,

at the time he was following after Diarmuid and Grania through the whole

length of Ireland.

CHAPTER XV. THE HUNT OF SLIEVE CUILINN

Finn was one time out on the green of Almhuin, and he saw what had the

appearance of a grey fawn running across the plain. He called and

whistled to his hounds then, but neither hound nor man heard him or came

to him, but only Bran and Sceolan. He set them after the fawn, and near

as they kept to her, he himself kept nearer to them, till at last they

reached to Slieve Cuilinn in the province of Ulster.

But they were no sooner at the hill than the fawn vanished from them,

and they did not know where was she gone, and Finn went looking for her

eastward, and the two hounds went towards the west.

It was not long till Finn came to a lake, and there was sitting on the

brink of it a young girl, the most beautiful he had ever seen, having

hair of the colour of gold, and a skin as white as lime, and eyes like

the stars in time of frost; but she seemed to be some way sorrowful and

downhearted. Finn asked her did she see his hounds pass that way. "I did

not see them," she said; "and it is little I am thinking of your hounds

or your hunting, but of the cause of my own trouble." "What is it ails

you, woman of the white hands?" said Finn; "and is there any help I can

give you?" he said. "It is what I am fretting after," said she, "a ring

of red gold I lost off my finger in the lake. And I put you under bonds,

Finn of the Fianna," she said, "to bring it back to me out of the lake."

With that Finn stripped off his clothes and went into the lake at the

bidding of the woman, and he went three times round the whole lake and

did not leave any part of it without searching, till he brought back the

ring. He handed it up to her then out of the water, and no sooner had he

done that than she gave a leap into the water and vanished.

And when Finn came up on the bank of the lake, he could not so much as

reach to where his clothes were; for on the moment he, the head and the

leader of the Fianna of Ireland, was but a grey old man, weak and

withered.

Bran and Sceolan came up to him then, but they did not know him, and

they went on round the lake, searching after their master.

In Almhuin, now, when he was missed, Caoilte began asking after him.

"Where is Finn," he said, "of the gentle rule and of the spears?" But no

one knew where was he gone, and there was grief on the Fianna when they

could not find him. But it is what Conan said: "I never heard music

pleased me better than to hear the son of Cumhal is missing. And that he

may be so through the whole year," he said, "and I myself will be king

over you all." And downhearted as they were, it is hardly they could

keep from laughing when they heard Conan saying that.

Caoilte and the rest of the chief men of the Fianna set out then looking

for Finn, and they got word of him; and at last they came to Slieve

Cuilinn, and there they saw a withered old man sitting beside the lake,

and they thought him to be a fisherman. "Tell us, old man," said

Caoilte, "did you see a fawn go by, and two hounds after her, and a tall

fair-faced man along with them?" "I did see them," he said, "and it is

not long since they left me." "Tell us where are they now?" said

Caoilte. But Finn made no answer, for he had not the courage to say to

them that he himself was Finn their leader, being as he was an ailing,

downhearted old man, without leaping, without running, without walk,

grey and sorrowful.

Caoilte took out his sword from the sheath then, and he said: "It is

short till you will have knowledge of death unless you will tell us what

happened those three."

Then Finn told them the whole story; and when the seven battalions of

the Fianna heard him, and knew it was Finn that was in it, they gave

three loud sorrowful cries. And to the lake they gave the name of Loch

Doghra, the Lake of Sorrow.

But Conan of the sharp tongue began abusing Finn and all the Fianna by

turns. "You never gave me right praise for my deeds, Finn, son of

Cumhal," he said, "and you were always the enemy of the sons of Morna;

but we are living in spite of you," he said, "and I have but the one

fault to find with your shape, and that is, that it was not put on the

whole of the Fianna the same as on yourself." Caoilte made at him then;

"Bald, senseless Conan," he said, "I will break your mouth to the bone."

But Conan ran in then among the rest of the Fianna and asked protection

from them, and peace was made again.

And as to Finn, they asked him was there any cure to be found for him.

"There is," he said; "for I know well the enchantment was put on me by a

woman of the Sidhe, Miluchradh, daughter of Cuilinn, through jealousy of

her sister Aine. And bring me to the hill that belongs to Cuilinn of

Cuailgne," he said, "for he is the only one can give me my shape again."

They came around him then, and raised him up gently on their shields,

and brought him on their shoulders to the hill of the Sidhe in Cuailgne,

but no one came out to meet them. Then the seven battalions began

digging and rooting up the whole hill, and they went on digging through

the length of three nights and three days. And at the end of that time

Cuilinn of Cuailgne, that some say was Manannan, son of Lir, came out of

the hill, holding in his hand a vessel of red gold, and he gave the

vessel into Finn's hand. And no sooner did Finn drink what was in the

vessel than his own shape and his appearance came back to him. But only

his hair, that used to be so fair and so beautiful, like the hair of a

woman, never got its own colour again, for the lake that Cuilinn's

daughter had made for Finn would have turned all the men of the whole

world grey if they had gone into it.

And when Finn had drunk all that was in the vessel it slipped from his

hand into the earth, that was loosened with the digging, and he saw it

no more. But in the place where it went into the earth, a tree grew up,

and any one that would look at the branches of that tree in the morning,

fasting, would have knowledge of all that was to happen on that day.

That, now, is the way Finn came by his grey hair, through the jealousy

of Miluchradh of the Sidhe, because he had not given his love to her,

but to her sister Aine.

BOOK FIVE: OISIN'S CHILDREN

Now as to Oisin, that was so brave and so comely, and that could

overtake a deer at its greatest speed, and see a thistle thorn on the

darkest night, the wife he took was Eibhir of the plaited yellow hair,

that was the foreign sweetheart of the High King of Ireland.

It is beyond the sea she lived, in a very sunny place; and her father's

name was lunsa, and her sunny house was thatched with the feathers of

birds, and the doorposts were of gold, and the doors of ribbed grass.

And Oisin went there looking for her, and he fought for her against the

High King and against an army of the Firbolgs he had helping him; and he

got the better of them all, and brought away Eibhir of the yellow hair

to Ireland.

And he had a daughter that married the son of Oiliol, son of Eoghan, and

of Beara, daughter of the King of Spain. It was that Eoghan was driven

out of Ireland one time, and it is to Spain he went for safety. And

Beara, that was daughter of the King of Spain, was very shining and

beautiful, and her father had a mind to know who would be her husband,

and he sent for his Druid and asked the question of him. "I can tell you

that," said the Druid, "for the man that is to be her husband will come

to land in Spain this very night. And let your daughter go eastward to

the river Eibhear," he said, "and she will find a crimson-spotted salmon

in that river, having shining clothing on him from head to tail. And let

her strip that clothing off him," he said, "and make with it a shining

shirt for her husband."

So Beara went to the river Eibhear, and found the golden salmon as the

Druid had said, and she stripped him of his crimson clothing and made a

shining shirt of it.

And as to Eoghan, the waves of the shore put a welcome before him, and

he came the same night to the king's house. And the king gave him a

friendly welcome; and it is what all the people said, that there was

never seen a comelier man than Eoghan, or a woman more beautiful than

Beara, and that it was fitting for them to come together. And Eoghan's

own people said they would not be sorry for being sent away out of

Ireland, if only Eoghan could get her for his wife.

And after a while the king sent his Druid to ask Eoghan why he did not

ask for Beara. "I will tell you that," said Eoghan; "it would not be

fitting for me to be refused a wife, and I am but an exile in this

country, and I have brought no treasures or goods with me out of Ireland

for giving to learned men and to poets. But for all that," he said, "the

king's daughter is dear to me, and I think I have the friendship of the

king."

The Druid went back with that message. "That is the answer of a king,"

said the King of Spain; "and bid my daughter to sit at Eoghan's right

hand," he said, "and I will give her to him this very night." And when

Beara, the king's daughter, heard that, she sent out her serving-maid to

bring the shirt she had made for Eoghan, and he put it on him over his

armour, and its shining was seen in every place; and it was from wearing

that shirt he got the name of Eoghan the Bright.

And Oiliol was the first son they had; it was he that had his ear bitten

off by Aine of the Sidhe in revenge for her brother, and it was his son

married Oisin's daughter afterwards.

And as to Osgar, that was Oisin's son, of all the young men of the

Fianna he was the best in battle. And when he was but a young child he

was made much of by the whole of the Fianna, and it is for him they used

to keep the marrow bones, and they did not like to put any hardship on

him. And he grew up tall and idle, and no one thought he would turn out

so strong as he did. And one day there was an attack made on a troop of

the Fianna, and all that were in it went out to fight, but they left

Osgar after them. And when he knew the fight was going on, he took a log

of wood that was the first thing he could find, and attacked the enemy

and made a great slaughter, and they gave way and ran before him. And

from that out there was no battle he did not go into; and he was said to

be the strongest of all the Fianna, though the people of Connacht said

that Goll was the strongest. And he and Diarmuid, grandson of Duibhne,

were comrades and dear friends; and it was Diarmuid taught him feats of

arms and of skill, and chess-playing. And Oisin his father took great

pride in him, and his grandfather Finn. And one time Finn was holding a

feast at Almhuin, and he asked the chief men of the Fianna that were

there what was the music they thought the best. "To be playing at

games," said Conan, "that is the best music I ever heard;" for though

Conan was a good hand against an enemy, there never was a man had less

sense. "The music I like the best is to be talking with a woman," said

Diarmuid. "My music is the outcry of my hounds, and they putting a deer

to its last stand," said Lugaidh's Son. "The music of the woods is best

to me," said Oisin; "the sound of the wind and of the cuckoo and the

blackbird, and the sweet silence of the crane."

And then Osgar was asked, and he said: "The best music is the striking

of swords in a battle." And it is likely he took after Finn in that, for

in spite of all the sweet sounds he gave an account of the time he was

at Conan's house, at Ceann Slieve, it used to be said by the Fianna that

the music that was best with Finn was what happened.

This now is the way Osgar met with his wife.

One time Finn and his men came to Slieve Crot, and they saw a woman

waiting there before them, having a crimson fringed cloak, and a gold

brooch in it, and a band of yellow gold on her forehead. Finn asked her

name, and where she came from. "Etain of the Fair Hair is my name," she

said, "daughter of Aedh of the White Breast, of the hill of the Sidhe at

Beinn Edair, son of Angus Og." "What is it brought you here, girl?" said

Finn. "To ask a man of the Fianna of Ireland to run a race with me."

"What sort of a runner are you?" said Diarmuid. "I am a good runner,"

said the girl; "for it is the same to me if the ground is long or short

under my feet."

All of the Fianna that were there then set out to run with her, and they

ran to the height over Badhamair and on to Ath Cliath, and from that on

to the hill of the Sidhe at Beinn Edair.

And there was a good welcome before them, and they were brought meat and

wine for drinking, and water for washing their feet. And after a while

they saw a nice fair-haired girl in front of the vats, and a cup of

white silver in her hand, and she giving out drink to every one. "It

seems to me that is the girl came asking the Fianna to race against her

at Slieve Crot," said Finn. "It is not," said Aedh of the White Breast,

"for that is the slowest woman there is among us." "Who was it so?" said

Finn. "It was Be-mannair, daughter of Ainceol, woman-messenger of the

Tuatha de Danaan. And it is she that changes herself into all shapes;

and she will take the shape of a fly, and of a true lover, and every one

leaves their secret with her. And it was she outran you coming from the

east," he said, "and not this other girl that was drinking and making

merry here in the hall." "What is her name?" said Finn. "Etain of the

Fair Hair," he said; "a daughter of my own, and a darling of the Tuatha

de Danaan. And it is the way with her, she has a lover of the men of the

Fianna." "That is well," said Finn; "and who is that lover?" "It is

Osgar, son of Oisin," said Aedh; "and it is she herself sent her

messenger for you," he said, "in her own shape, to Slieve Crot in the

south. And the son of the High King of Ireland has offered a great

bride-price to the Men of Dea for her," he said, "three hundreds of the

land nearest to Bregia and to Midhe, and to put himself and his weight

of gold into a balance, and to give it all to her. But we did not take

it," he said, "since she had no mind or wish for it herself, and so we

made no dealing or agreement about her." "Well," said Finn, "and what

conditions will you ask of Osgar?" "Never to leave me for anything at

all but my own fault," said the girl. "I will make that agreement with

you indeed," said Osgar. "Give me sureties for it," said she; "give me

the sureties of Goll for the sons of Morna, and of Finn, son of Cumhal,

for the Fianna of Ireland."

So they gave those sureties, and the wedding-feast was made, and they

stopped there for twenty nights. And at the end of that time Osgar asked

Finn where would he bring his wife. "Bring her to wide Almhuin for the

first seven years," said Finn.

But a while after that, in a great battle at Beinn Edair, Osgar got so

heavy a wound that Finn and the Fianna were as if they had lost their

wits. And when Etain of the Fair Hair came to the bed where Osgar was

lying, and saw the way he was, and that the great kinglike shape he had

was gone from him, greyness and darkness came on her, and she raised

pitiful cries, and she went to her bed and her heart broke in her like a

nut; and she died of grief for her husband and her first love.

But it was not at that time Osgar got his death, but afterwards in the

battle of Gabhra.

BOOK SIX: DIARMUID.

CHAPTER I. BIRTH OF DIARMUID

Diarmuid, now, was son of Bonn, son of Duibhne of the Fianna, and his

mother was Crochnuit, that was near in blood to Finn. And at the time he

was born, Bonn was banished from the Fianna because of some quarrel they

had with him, and Angus Og took the child from him to rear him up at

Brugh na Boinne.

And after a while Crochnuit bore another son to Roc Diocain, that was

Head Steward to Angus. Roc Diocain went then to Donn, and asked would he

rear up his son for him, the way Angus was rearing Donn's son. But Donn

said he would not take the son of a common man into his house, and it

would be best for Angus to take him. So Angus took the child into Brugh

na Boinne, and he and Diarmuid were reared up together.

And one day Finn was on the great Hill at Almhuin of Leinster, and no

one with him but Donn and a few of the poets and learned men of the

Fianna, and their hounds and dogs, and Bran Beag came in and asked did

he remember there were bonds on him, not to stop in Almhuin for ten

nights together. Finn asked the people about him then where would he go

and be entertained for that night, and Donn said: "I will bring you to

the house of Angus, son of the Dagda, where my young son is being

reared."

So they went together to the house of Angus at Brugh na Boinne, and the

child Diarmuid was there, and it is great love Angus had for him. And

the Steward's son was with him that night, and the people of the

household made as much of him as Angus made of Diarmuid; and there was

great vexation on Donn when he saw that. It chanced after a while a

great fight rose between two of Finn's hounds about some broken meat

that was thrown to them; and the women and the common people of the

place ran from them, and the others rose up to part them from one

another. And in running away, the Steward's child ran between the knees

of Donn, and Donn gave the child a strong squeeze between his two knees

that killed him on the moment, and he threw him under the feet of the

hounds. And when the Steward came after that and found his son dead, he

gave a long very pitiful cry, and he said to Finn: "There is not a man

in the house to-night has suffered more than myself from this uproar,

for I had but one son only, and he has been killed; and what

satisfaction will I get from you for that, Finn?" he said. "Try can you

find the mark of a tooth or of a nail of one of the hounds on him," said

Finn, "and if you can, I will give you satisfaction for him."

So they looked at the child, and there was no scratch or mark of a tooth

on him at all. Then the Steward put Finn under the destroying bonds of

the Druid cave of Cruachan, to give him knowledge of who it was killed

his son. And Finn asked for a chess-board, and for water to be brought

to him, in a basin of pale gold, and he searched, and it was shown to

him truly that it was Donn had killed the Steward's son between his two

knees. When Finn knew that, he said he would take the fine on himself;

but the Steward would not consent to that, but forced him to tell who

was it had done him the wrong. And when he knew it was Donn had killed

the child, he said: "There is no man in the house it is easier to get

satisfaction from than from him, for his own son is here, and I have but

to put him between my two knees, and if I let him go from me safe, I

will forgive the death of my son." Angus was vexed at what the Steward

said, and as to Donn, he thought to strike his head off till Finn put

him back from him. Then the Steward came again, having a Druid rod with

him, and he struck his own son with the rod, and he made of him a wild

boar, without bristle or ear or tail, and he said: "I put you under

bonds to bring Diarmuid, grandson of Duibhne, to his death; and your

own life will be no longer than his life," he said. With that the wild

boar rose up and ran out of the open door; and he was called afterwards

the Boar of Slieve Guillion, and it was by him Diarmuid came to his

death at the last.

And when Diarmuid came to his full strength he was given a place among

the Fianna of Ireland; and all women loved him, and he did many great

deeds, fighting with the enemies of the Fianna and of Ireland; and one

time he fought a wild ox through the length of seven days and seven

nights on the top of the Mountain of Happiness.

CHAPTER II. HOW DIARMUID GOT HIS LOVE-SPOT

Diarmuid and Conan and Goll and Osgar went one day hunting, and they

went so far they could not get home in the evening, and they spent the

first part of the night walking through the woods and pulling berries

and eating them. And when it was about midnight they saw a light, and

they went towards it, and they found a little house before them, and the

light shining from it. They went in then, and they saw an old man there,

and he bade them welcome, and he called them all by their names. And

they saw no one in the house but the old man and a young girl and a cat.

And the old man bade the girl to make food ready for the Fianna of

Ireland, for there was great hunger on them.

And when the food was ready and put on the table, there came a great

wether that was fastened up in the back of the house, and he rose up on

the table where they were eating, and when they saw that, they looked at

one another. "Rise up, Conan," said Goll, "and fasten that wether in

the place it was before." Conan rose up and took hold of it, but the

wether gave itself a shake that threw Conan under one of its feet. The

rest were looking at that, and Goll said: "Let you rise up, Diarmuid,

and fasten up the wether." So Diarmuid rose up and took hold of it, but

it gave itself a shake the same way as before; and when Diarmuid was

down it put one of its feet on him. Goll and Osgar looked at one another

then, and shame came on them, a wether to have done so much as that. And

Osgar got up, but the wether put him down under one of his feet, so that

it had now the three men under him. Then Goll rose up and took hold of

it and threw it down; but if he did, it rose up again in spite of him,

and put Goll under his fourth foot.

"It is a great shame," said the old man then, "the like of that to be

done to the Fianna of Ireland. And rise up now, cat," he said, "and tie

the wether in the place where he was." The cat rose up then and took

hold of the wether, and brought it over and tied it in its place at the

end of the house.

The men rose up then, but they had no mind to go on eating, for there

was shame on them at what the wether had done to them. "You may go on

eating," said the old man; "and when you are done I will show you that

now you are the bravest men of the world." So they ate their fill then,

and the old man spoke to them, and it is what he said: "Goll," he said,

"you are the bravest of all the men of the world, for you have wrestled

with the world and you threw it down. The strength of the world is in

the wether, but death will come to the world itself; and that is death,"

he said, showing them the cat.

They were talking together then, and they had their food eaten, and the

old man said their beds were ready for them that they could go to sleep.

The four of them went then into the one room, and when they were in

their beds the young girl came to sleep in the same room with them, and

the light of her beauty was shining on the walls like as if it was the

light of a candle.

And when Conan saw her he went over to the side of the bed where she

was.

Now, it was Youth the young girl was, and when she saw Conan coming to

her: "Go back to your bed, Conan," she said; "I belonged to you once,

and I will never belong to you again." Conan went back to his bed then,

and Osgar had a mind to go over where she was. Then she said to him:

"Where are you going?" "I am going over to yourself for a while," said

he.

"Go back again, Osgar," she said; "I belonged to you once, and I will

never belong to you again."

Then Diarmuid rose up to go to her: "Where are you going, Diarmuid?" she

said. "I am going over to yourself for a while," said he. "O Diarmuid,"

she said, "that cannot be; I belonged to you once, and I can never

belong to you again; but come over here to me, Diarmuid," she said, "and

I will put a love-spot on you, that no woman will ever see without

giving you her love." So Diarmuid went over to her, and she put her hand

on his forehead, and she left the love-spot there, and no woman that

ever saw him after that was able to refuse him her love.

CHAPTER III. THE DAUGHTER OF KING UNDER-WAVE

One snowy night of winter the Fianna were come into the house after

their hunting. And about midnight they heard a knocking at the door, and

there came in a woman very wild and ugly, and her hair hanging to her

heels. She went to the place Finn was lying, and she asked him to let

her in under the border of his covering. But when he saw her so strange

and so ugly and so wild-looking he would not let her in. She gave a

great cry then, and she went to where Oisin was, and asked him to let

her shelter under the border of his covering. But Oisin refused her the

same way. Then she gave another great scream, and she went over where

Diarmuid was. "Let me in," she said, "under the border of your

covering." Diarmuid looked at her, and he said: "You are strange-looking

and wild and ugly, and your hair is down to your heels. But come in for

all that," he said.

So she came in under the border of his covering.

"O Diarmuid," she said then, "I have been travelling over sea and ocean

through the length of seven years, and in all that time I never got

shelter any night till this night. And let me to the warmth of the fire

now," she said. So Diarmuid brought her over to the fire, and all the

Fianna that were sitting there went away from it seeing her so ugly and

so dreadful to look at. And she was not long at the fire when she said:

"Let me go under the warmth of the covering with you now." "It is asking

too much you are," said Diarmuid; "first it was to come under the border

you asked, and then to come to the fire, and now it is under the

bed-covering with me you want to be. But for all that you may come," he

said.

So she came in under the covering, and he turned a fold of it between

them. But it was not long till he looked at her, and what he saw was a

beautiful young woman beside him, and she asleep. He called to the

others then to come over, and he said: "Is not this the most beautiful

woman that ever was seen?" "She is that," they said, and they covered

her up and did not awaken her.

But after a while she stirred, and she said: "Are you awake, Diarmuid?"

"I am awake," he said. "Where would you like to see the best house

built that ever was built?" she said. "Up there on the hillside, if I

had my choice," said he, and with that he fell asleep.

And in the morning two men of the Fianna came in, and they said they

were after seeing a great house up on the hill, where there was not a

house before. "Rise up, Diarmuid," said the strange woman then; "do not

be lying there any longer, but go up to your house, and look out now and

see it," she said. So he looked out and he saw the great house that was

ready, and he said: "I will go to it, if you will come along with me."

"I will do that," she said, "if you will make me a promise not to say to

me three times what way I was when I came to you." "I will never say it

to you for ever," said Diarmuid.

They went up then to the house, and it was ready for them, with food and

servants; and everything they could wish for they had it. They stopped

there for three days, and when the three days were ended, she said: "You

are getting to be sorrowful because you are away from your comrades of

the Fianna." "I am not sorrowful indeed," said Diarmuid. "It will be

best for you to go to them; and your food and your drink will be no

worse when you come back than they are now," said she. "Who will take

care of my greyhound bitch and her three pups if I go?" said Diarmuid.

"There is no fear for them," said she.

So when he heard that, he took leave of her and went back to the Fianna,

and there was a great welcome before him. But for all that they were not

well pleased but were someway envious, Diarmuid to have got that grand

house and her love from the woman they themselves had turned away.

Now as to the woman, she was outside the house for a while after

Diarmuid going away, and she saw Finn, son of Cumhal, coming towards

her, and she bade him welcome. "You are vexed with me, Queen?" he said.

"I am not indeed," she said; "and come in now and take a drink of wine

from me." "I will go in if I get my request," said Finn. "What request

is there that you would not get?" said she. "It is what I am asking, one

of the pups of Diarmuid's greyhound bitch." "That is no great thing to

ask," she said; "and whichever one you choose of them you may bring it

away."

So he got the pup, and he brought it away with him.

At the fall of night Diarmuid came back to the house, and the greyhound

met him at the door and gave a yell when she saw him, and he looked for

the pups, and one of them was gone. There was anger on him then, and he

said to the woman: "If you had brought to mind the way you were when I

let you in, and your hair hanging, you would not have let the pup be

brought away from me." "You ought not to say that, Diarmuid," said she.

"I ask your pardon for saying it," said Diarmuid. And they forgave one

another, and he spent the night in the house.

On the morrow Diarmuid went back again to his comrades, and the woman

stopped at the house, and after a while she saw Oisin coming towards

her. She gave him a welcome, and asked him into the house, and he said

he would come if he would get his request. And what he asked was another

of the pups of the greyhound.

So she gave him that, and he went away bringing the pup with him. And

when Diarmuid came back that night the greyhound met him, and she cried

out twice. And he knew that another of the pups was gone, and he said to

the greyhound, and the woman standing there: "If she had remembered the

way she was when she came to me, she would not have let the pup be

brought away."

The next day he went back again to the Fianna, and when he was gone, the

woman saw Caoilte coming towards her, and he would not come in to take a

drink from her till he had got the promise of one of the pups the same

as the others.

And when Diarmuid came back that night the greyhound met him and gave

three yells, the most terrible that ever were heard. There was great

anger on him then, when he saw all the pups gone, and he said the third

time: "If this woman remembered the way she was when I found her, and

her hair down to her heels, she would not have let the pup go." "O

Diarmuid, what is it you are after saying?" she said. He asked

forgiveness of her then, and he thought to go into the house, but it was

gone and the woman was gone on the moment, and it was on the bare ground

he awoke on the morrow. There was great sorrow on him then, and he said

he would search in every place till he would find her again.

So he set out through the lonely valleys, and the first thing he saw was

the greyhound lying dead, and he put her on his shoulder and would not

leave her because of the love he had for her. And after a while he met

with a cowherd, and he asked him did he see a woman going the way. "I

saw a woman early in the morning of yesterday, and she walking hard,"

said the cowherd. "What way was she going?" said Diarmuid. "Down that

path below to the strand, and I saw her no more after that," he said.

So he followed the path she took down to the strand till he could go no

farther, and then he saw a ship, and he leaned on the handle of his

spear and made a light leap on to the ship, and it went on till it came

to land, and then he got out and lay down on the side of a hill and fell

asleep, and when he awoke there was no ship to be seen. "It is a pity

for me to be here," he said, "for I see no way of getting from it

again."

But after a while he saw a boat coming, and a man in the boat rowing it,

and he went down and got into the boat, and brought the greyhound with

him. And the boat went out over the sea, and then down below it; and

Diarmuid, when he went down, found himself on a plain. And he went

walking along it, and it was not long before he met with a drop of

blood. He took it up and put it in a napkin. "It is the greyhound lost

this," he said. And after a while he met with another drop of blood, and

then with a third, and he put them in the napkin. And after that again

he saw a woman, and she gathering rushes as if she had lost her wits.

He went towards her and asked her what news had she. "I cannot tell it

till I gather the rushes," she said. "Be telling it while you are

gathering them," said Diarmuid. "There is great haste on me," she said.

"What is this place where we are?" said Diarmuid. "It is

Land-under-Wave," said she. "And what use have you for the rushes when

they are gathered?" "The daughter of King Under-Wave is come home," she

said, "and she was for seven years under enchantment, and there is

sickness on her now, and all the physicians are gathered together and

none of them can do her any good, and a bed of rushes is what she finds

the wholesomest." "Will you show me where the king's daughter is?" said

Diarmuid. "I will do that," said the woman; "I will put you in the sheaf

of rushes, and I will put the rushes under you and over you, and I will

carry you to her on my back." "That is a thing you cannot do," said

Diarmuid. But she put the rushes about him, and lifted him on her back,

and when she got to the room she let down the bundle. "O come here to

me," said the daughter of King Under-Wave, and Diarmuid went over to

her, and they took one another's hands, and were very joyful at that

meeting. "Three parts of my sickness is gone from me now," she said

then; "but I am not well yet, and I never will be, for every time I

thought of you, Diarmuid, on my journey, I lost a drop of the blood of

my heart." "I have got those three drops here in this napkin," said

Diarmuid, "and take them now in a drink and you will be healed of your

sickness." "They would do nothing for me," she said, "since I have not

the one thing in the world that I want, and that is the thing I will

never get," she said. "What thing is that?" said Diarmuid. "It is the

thing you will never get, nor any man in the world," she said, "for it

is a long time they have failed to get it." "If it is in any place on

the whole ridge of the world I will get it," said Diarmuid. "It is three

draughts from the cup of the King of Magh an Ionganaidh, the Plain of

Wonder," she said, "and no man ever got it or ever will get it." "Tell

me where that cup is to be found," said Diarmuid, "for there are not as

many men as will keep it from me on the whole ridge of the world." "That

country is not far from the boundary of my father's country," she said;

"but there is a little river between, and you would be sailing on that

river in a ship, having the wind behind it, for a year and a day before

you would reach to the Plain of Wonder."

Diarmuid set out then, and he came to the little river, and he was a

good while walking beside it, and he saw no way to cross it. But at last

he saw a low-sized, reddish man that was standing in the middle of the

river. "You are in straits, Diarmuid, grandson of Duibhne," he said;

"and come here and put your foot in the palm of my hand and I will bring

you through." Diarmuid did as he bade him, and put his foot in the red

man's palm, and he brought him across the river. "It is going to the

King of the Plain of Wonder you are," he said, "to bring away his cup

from him; and I myself will go with you."

They went on then till they came to the king's dun, and Diarmuid called

out that the cup should be sent out to him, or else champions to fight

with him should be sent out. It was not the cup was sent out, but twice

eight hundred fighting men; and in three hours there was not one of them

left to stand against him. Then twice nine hundred better fighters

again were sent out against him, and within four hours there was not one

of them left to stand against him. Then the king himself came out, and

he stood in the great door, and he said: "Where did the man come from

that has brought destruction on the whole of my kingdom?" "I will tell

you that," said he; "I am Diarmuid, a man of the Fianna of Ireland." "It

is a pity you not to have sent a messenger telling me that," said the

king, "and I would not have spent my men upon you; for seven years

before you were born it was put in the prophecy that you would come to

destroy them. And what is it you are asking now?" he said. "It is the

cup of healing from your own hand I am asking," said Diarmuid. "No man

ever got that cup from me but yourself," said the king, "but it is easy

for me to give it to you, whether or not there is healing in it."

Then the King of the Plain of Wonder gave Diarmuid the cup, and they

parted from one another; and Diarmuid went on till he came to the river,

and it was then he thought of the red man, that he had given no thought

to while he was at the king's house. But he was there before him, and

took his foot in the palm of his hand and brought him over the river. "I

know where it is you are going, Diarmuid," he said then; "it is to heal

the daughter of King Under-Wave that you have given your love to. And it

is to a well I will give you the signs of you should go," he said, "and

bring a share of the water of that well with you. And when you come

where the woman is, it is what you have to do, to put that water in the

cup, and one of the drops of blood in it, and she will drink it, and the

same with the second drop and the third, and her sickness will be gone

from her from that time. But there is another thing will be gone along

with it," he said, "and that is the love you have for her."

"That will not go from me," said Diarmuid. "It will go from you," said

the man; "and it will be best for you make no secret of it, for she will

know, and the king will know, that you think no more of her then than of

any other woman. And King Under-Wave will come to you," he said, "and

will offer you great riches for healing his daughter. But take nothing

from him," he said, "but ask only a ship to bring you home again to

Ireland. And do you know who am I myself?" he said. "I do not know,"

said Diarmuid. "I am the messenger from beyond the world," he said; "and

I came to your help because your own heart is hot to come to the help of

another."

So Diarmuid did as he bade him, and he brought the water and the cup and

the drops of blood to the woman, and she drank them, and at the third

draught she was healed. And no sooner was she healed than the love he

had for her was gone, and he turned away from her. "O Diarmuid," she

said, "your love is gone from me." "O, it is gone indeed," said he.

Then there was music made in the whole place, and the lamenting was

stopped, because of the healing of the king's daughter. And as to

Diarmuid, he would take no reward and he would not stop there, but he

asked for a ship to bring him home to Ireland, to Finn and the Fianna.

And when he came where they were, there was a joyful welcome before him.

CHAPTER IV. THE HARD SERVANT

The Fianna went hunting one time in the two proud provinces of Munster.

They went out from Almhuin by the nearest paths till they came to the

Brosna river in Slieve Bladhma, and from there to the twelve mountains

of Eiblinne, and on to Aine Cliach, the harp of Aine.

They scattered themselves then and hunted through the borders of the

forest that is called Magh Breogain, through blind trackless places and

through broken lands, over beautiful level plains and the high hills of

Desmumum, under pleasant Slieve Crot and smooth Slieve na Muc, along the

level banks of the blue Siuir and over the green plain of Feman and the

rough plain of Eithne, and the dark woods of Belach Gabrain.

And Finn was at the side of a hill, and the chief men of the Fianna

along with him, to watch the hunting; for they liked to be listening to

the outcry of the hounds and the hurried cries of the boys, and the

noise and the whistling and the shouts of the strong men.

Finn asked then which of the men that were with him would go and keep

watch on the side of the hill where they were. And Finnbane, son of

Bresel, said he would go. And he went on to the top of the hill, where

he could see about him on all sides. And he was not long there till he

saw coming from the east a very big man, ugly and gloomy and deformed;

and it is how he was, a dark-coloured shield on his back, a wide sword

on his crooked left thigh, two spears on his shoulder, a torn loose

cloak over his limbs, that were as black as a quenched coal. A sulky

horse he had with him that had no good appearance, bony and thin as to

body, and weak in the legs, and he leading it with a rough iron halter;

and it was a great wonder the head was not pulled from the horse's body,

or the arms pulled out of his owner, with the sudden stands and stops

and the jerks it made. And the big man was striking blows on the horse

with an iron cudgel to try and knock some going out of him, and the

sound of the blows was like the breaking of strong waves.

And when Finnbane saw all that, he thought to himself it would not be

right to let the like of that stranger go up unknown to Finn and the

Fianna, and he ran back in haste to where they were and told them all he

had seen.

And when he had told his story, they saw the big man coming towards

them; but as short as he was from them he was long in coming, from the

badness of his walk and his going.

And when he came into Finn's presence he saluted him, and bowed his head

and bent his knee, making signs of humility.

Finn raised his hand over his head then, and asked news of him, and if

he was of the noble or of the mean blood of the great world. He answered

that he had no knowledge who he came from, but only that he was a man of

the Fomor, travelling in search of wages to the kings of the earth, "and

I heard," he said, "that Finn never refused wages to any man." "I never

did indeed," said Finn, "and I will not refuse you. But why is it," he

said, "you are without a boy to mind your horse?" "I have a good reason

for that," said the big man; "there is nothing in the world is worse to

me than a boy to be with me; for it is a hundred men's share of food,"

he said, "that serves me for one day, and it is little enough I think

it, and I would begrudge a boy to be sharing it with me." "What is the

name you have?" said Finn. "The name I have is the Gilla Decair, the

Hard Servant," said he. "Why did you get that name?" said Finn. "There

is a good reason for that," said the big man, "for there is nothing in

the world is harder to me than to do anything at all for my master, or

whatever person I am with. And tell me this, Conan, son of Morna," he

said, "who gets the best wages, a horseman or a man afoot?" "A horseman

gets twice as much," said Conan. "Then I call you to witness, Conan," he

said, "that I am a horseman, and that it was as a horseman I came to the

Fianna. And give me your guarantee now, Finn, son of Cumhal, and the

guarantee of the Fianna, and I will turn out my horse with your horses."

"Let him out then," said Finn.

The big man pulled off the iron halter then from his horse, and it made

off as hard as it could go, till it came where the horses of the Fianna

were; and it began to tear and to kick and to bite at them, killing and

maiming. "Take your horse out of that, big man," said Conan; "and by the

earth and the sky," he said, "only it was on the guarantee of Finn and

the Fianna you took the halter off him, I would let out his brains

through the windows of his head; and many as is the bad prize Finn has

found in Ireland," he said, "he never got one as bad as yourself." "And

I swear by earth and sky as well as yourself," said the big man, "I will

never bring him out of that; for I have no serving-boy to do it for me,

and it is not work for me to be leading my horse by the hand."

Conan, son of Morna, rose up then and took the halter and put it on the

horse, and led it back to where Finn was, and held it with his hand.

"You would never have done a horse-boy's service, Conan," said Finn, "to

any one of the Fianna, however far he might be beyond this Fomor. And if

you will do what I advise," he said, "you will get up on the horse now,

and search out with him all the hills and hollows and flowery plains of

Ireland, till his heart is broken in his body in payment for the way he

destroyed the horses of the Fianna."

Conan made a leap then on to the horse, and struck his heels hard into

him, but with all that the horse would not stir. "I know what ails him,"

said Finn, "he will not stir till he has the same weight of horsemen on

him as the weight of the big man."

On that thirteen men of the Fianna went up behind Conan, and the horse

lay down with them and rose up again. "I think that you are mocking at

my horse and at myself," said the big man; "and it is a pity for me to

be spending the rest of the year with you, after all the humbugging I

saw in you to-day, Finn. And I know well," he said, "that all I heard

about you was nothing but lies, and there was no cause for the great

name you have through the world. And I will quit you now, Finn," he

said.

With that he went from them, slow and weak, dragging himself along till

he had put a little hill between himself and the Fianna. And as soon as

he was on the other side of it, he tucked up his cloak to his waist, and

away with him, as if with the quickness of a swallow or a deer, and the

rush of his going was like a blast of loud wind going over plains and

mountains in spring-time.

When the horse saw his master going from him, he could not bear with it,

but great as his load was he set out at full gallop following after him.

And when Finn and the Fianna saw the thirteen men behind Conan, son of

Morna, on the horse, and he starting off, they shouted with mocking

laughter.

And when Conan found that he was not able to come down off the horse, he

screeched and shouted to them not to let him be brought away with the

big man they knew nothing of, and he began abusing and reproaching them.

"A cloud of death over water on you, Finn," he said, "and that some son

of a slave or a robber of the bad blood, one that is a worse son of a

father and mother even than yourself, may take all that might protect

your life, and your head along with that, unless you follow us to

whatever place or island the big man will carry us to, and unless you

bring us back to Ireland again."

Finn and the Fianna rose up then, and they followed the Gilla Decair

over every bald hill, and through every valley and every river, on to

pleasant Slieve Luachra, into the borders of Corca Duibhne; and the big

man, that was up on the horse then along with Conan and the rest, faced

towards the deep sea. And Liagan Luath of Luachar took hold of the

horse's tail with his two hands, thinking to drag him back by the hair

of it; but the horse gave a great tug, and away with him over the sea,

and Liagan along with him, holding on to his tail.

It was a heavy care to Finn, those fourteen men of his people to be

brought away from him, and he himself under bonds to bring them back.

"What can we do now?" Oisin asked him. "What should we do, but to follow

our people to whatever place or island the big man has brought them,

and, whatever way we do it, to bring them back to Ireland again." "What

can we do, having neither a ship or any kind of boat?" said Oisin. "We

have this," said Finn, "the Tuatha de Danaan left as a gift to the

children of the Gael, that whoever might have to leave Ireland for a

while, had but to go to Beinn Edair, and however many would go along

with him, they would find a ship that would hold them all." Finn looked

towards the sea then, and he saw two strong armed men coming towards

him. The first one had on his back a shield ribbed and of many colours,

having shapes of strange, wonderful beasts engraved on it, and a heavy

sword at his side, and two thick spears on his shoulders; a cloak of

lasting crimson about him, with a gold brooch on the breast; a band of

white bronze on his head, gold under each of his feet; and the other was

dressed in the same way. They made no delay till they came to where Finn

was, and they bowed their heads and bent their knees before him, and

Finn raised his hand over their heads, and bade them to give an account

of themselves. "We are sons of the King of the Eastern World," they

said, "and we are come to Ireland asking to be taken into the service of

Finn; for we heard there was not a man in all Ireland," they said,

"would be better than yourself to judge of the skill we have." "What is

your name, and what skill is that?" said Finn. "My name is Feradach,

the Very Brave," he said; "and I have a carpenter's axe and a sling, and

if there were so many as thirty hundred of the men of Ireland along with

me in one spot, with three blows of the axe on the sling-stick I could

get a ship that would hold them all. And I would ask no more help of

them," he said, "than to bow down their heads while I was striking those

three blows." "That is a good art," said Finn. "And tell me now," he

said, "what can the other man do?" "I can do this," he said, "I can

follow the track of the teal over nine ridges and nine furrows until I

come on her in her bed; and it is the same to me to do it on sea as on

land," he said. "That is a good art," said Finn; "and it would be a good

help to us if you would come following a track with us now." "What is

gone from you?" said one of the men. Finn told them then the whole story

of the Hard Servant.

Then Feradach, the Very Brave, struck three blows on his sling-stick

with the axe that he had, and the whole of the Fianna bowed their heads,

and on the moment the whole of the bay and of the harbour was filled

with ships and with fast boats. "What will we do with that many ships?"

said Finn. "We will do away with all you make no use of," he said.

Caoilte rose up then and let out three great shouts, and all the Fianna

of Ireland, in whatever places they were, heard them, and they thought

Finn and his people to be in some kind of danger from men from beyond

the sea.

They came then in small companies as they chanced to be, till they came

to the stepping-stones of the Cat's Head in the western part of Corca

Duibhne. And they asked news of Finn, what had happened that he called

them away from their hunting, and Finn told them all that had happened.

Then Finn and Oisin went into council together, and it is what they

agreed; that as but fifteen of his people were brought away from Finn,

he himself with fifteen others would go on their track; Oisin to be left

at the head of the Fianna to guard Ireland.

And they said farewell to one another, and a grand ship was made ready

for Finn and his people, and there was food put in it for using and gold

for giving away. The young men and the heroes took to their seats then,

and took hold of the oars, and they set out over the restless hills and

the dark valleys of the great sea.

And the sea rose up and bellowed, and there was madness on the broken

green waters; but to Finn and his people it was a call in the morning

and a sleepy time at night to be listening to the roaring and the

crooning that was ever and always about the sides of the ship.

They went on like that for three days and three nights, and saw no

country or island. But at the end of that time a man of them went up

into the head of the ship, and he saw out before them a great, rough

grey cliff. They went on towards it then, and they saw on the edge of

the cliff a high rock, round-shaped, having sides more slippery than an

eel's back. And they found the track of the Hard Servant as far as to

the foot of the rock.

Fergus of the True Lips said then to Diarmuid: "It is no brave thing you

are doing, Diarmuid, grandson of Duibhne, to hold back like this, for it

was with Manannan the Powerful, son of Lir, you were reared and got your

learning, in the Land of Promise and in the coasts of the harbours, and

with Angus Og, the Dagda's son. And are you without any share of their

skill and their daring now," he said, "that would bring Finn and his

people up this rock?"

Diarmuid's face reddened when he heard those words, and he took hold of

Manannan's staves of power that were with him, and he reddened again,

and he rose on the staves and gave a leap, and got a standing-place for

his two feet on the overhanging rock. He looked down from that on Finn

and his people, but whatever wish he had to bring them up to where he

was, he was not able to do it.

He left the rock behind him then, and he was not gone far when he saw a

wild tangled place before him, with thick woods that were of all he had

ever walked the most leafy and the fullest of the sounds of wind and

streams and birds, and of the humming of bees.

He went on walking the plain, and as he was looking about him, he saw a

great tree with many twigs and branches, and a rock beside it, and a

smooth-pointed drinking-horn on it, and a beautiful fresh well at its

foot. And there was a great drouth on Diarmuid after the sea-journey,

and he had a mind to drink a hornful of the water. But when he stooped

to it he heard a great noise coming towards him, and he knew then there

was enchantment in the water.

"I will drink my fill of it for all that," he said. And it was not long

after that till he saw a Man of Enchantments coming towards him armed,

having no friendly look. And it was in no friendly way he spoke to

Diarmuid when he came up to him, but he gave him great abuse. "It is no

right thing," he said, "to be walking through my thickets and to be

drinking up my share of water." With that they faced one another

angrily, and they fought till the end of the day.

The Enchanter thought it well to leave off fighting then, and he made a

leap into the bottom of the well away from him, but there was vexation

on Diarmuid to be left like that.

He looked around him then, and he saw a herd of deer coming through the

scrub, and he went towards them, and threw a spear that went through the

nearest stag and drove the bowels out of him. He kindled a fire then,

and he cut thin bits of the flesh and put them on spits of white hazel,

and that night he had his fill of meat and of the water of the well.

He rose up early on the morrow, and he found the Enchanter at the well

before him. "It seems to me, Grandson of Duibhne," he said, "that it is

not enough for you to be walking my scrub and my woods without killing

my deer as well." With that they started again, giving one another blow

for blow, thrust for thrust, and wound for wound till the end of the day

came on them. And Diarmuid killed another great deer that night, and in

the morning the fight began again. But in the evening, when the

Enchanter was making his leap into the well, Diarmuid threw his arms

about his neck, thinking to stop him, but it is what happened, he fell

in himself. And when he was at the bottom of the well the Enchanter left

him.

Diarmuid went then following after the Enchanter, and he found before

him a beautiful wide flowery plain, and a comely royal city in the

plain, and on the green before the dun he saw a great army; and when

they saw Diarmuid following after the Enchanter, they left a way and a

royal road for the Enchanter to pass through till he got inside the dun.

And then they shut the gates, and the whole army turned on Diarmuid.

But that put no fear or cowardice on him, but he went through them and

over them like a hawk would go through little birds, or a wild dog

through a flock of sheep, killing all before him, till some of them made

away to the woods and wastes, and another share of them through the

gates of the dun, and they shut them, and the gates of the city after

them. And Diarmuid, all full of hurts and wounds after the hard fight,

lay down on the plain. A very strong daring champion came then and

kicked at him from behind, and at that Diarmuid roused himself up, and

put out his brave ready hand for his weapons.

"Wait a while, Grandson of Duibhne," the champion said then; "it is not

to do you any hurt or harm I am come, but to say to you it is a bad

sleeping-place for you to have, and it on your ill-wisher's lawn. And

come now with me," he said, "and I will give you a better

resting-place."

Diarmuid followed him then, and they went a long, long way from that,

till they came to a high-topped city, and three times fifty brave

champions in it, three times fifty modest women, and another young woman

on a bench, with blushes in her cheeks, and delicate hands, and having a

silken cloak about her, and a dress sewed with gold threads, and on her

head the flowing veil of a queen.

There was a good welcome before Diarmuid for his own sake and the sake

of his people, and he was put in a house of healing that was in the

city, and good herbs were put to his hurts till he was smooth and sound

again.

And a feast was made then, and the tables and the benches were set, and

no high person was put in the place of the mean, or mean in the place of

the high, but every one in his own place, according to his nobility, or

his descent, or his art. Plenty of good food was brought to them then,

and well-tasting strong drinks, and they spent the first part of the

night in drinking, and the second part with music and delight and

rejoicing of the mind, and the third part in sound sleep that lasted

till the sun rose over the heavy sodded earth on the morrow.

Three days and three nights Diarmuid stopped in that city, and the best

feast he ever found was given to him all through. And at the end of that

time he asked what was the place he was in, and who was head of it. And

the champion that brought him there told him it was Land-Under-Wave, and

that the man that had fought with him was its king. "And he is an enemy

of the Red Hand to me," he said. "And as to myself," he said, "I was

one time getting wages from Finn, son of Cumhal, in Ireland, and I never

put a year over me that pleased me better. And tell me now," he said,

"what is the journey or the work that is before you?"

And Diarmuid told him the story of the Hard Servant then from beginning

to end.

Now, as to Finn and his people, when they thought Diarmuid was too long

away from them, they made ladders of the cords of the ship and put them

against the rock, looking for him.

And after a while they found the leavings of the meat he had eaten, for

Diarmuid never ate meat without leaving some after him.

Finn looked then on every side, and he saw a rider coming towards him

over the plain on a dark-coloured beautiful horse, having a bridle of

red gold. Finn saluted him when he came up, and the rider stooped his

head and gave Finn three kisses, and asked him to go with him. They went

on a long way till they came to a wide, large dwelling-place full of

arms, and a great troop of armed men on the green before the fort. Three

nights and three days Finn and his people stopped in the dun, and the

best feast they ever got was served out to them.

At the end of that time Finn asked what country was he in, and the man

that brought him there told him it was the land of Sorcha, and that he

himself was its king. "And I was with yourself one time, Finn, son of

Cumhal," he said, "taking your wages through the length of a year in

Ireland."

Then Finn and the King of Sorcha called a great gathering of the people

and a great meeting. And when it was going on they saw a woman-messenger

coming to them through the crowd, and the king asked news of her. "I

have news indeed," she said; "the whole of the bay and the harbour is

full of ships and of boats, and there are armies all through the country

robbing all before them." "I know well," said the king, "it is the High

King of Greece is in it, for he has a mind to put the entire world under

him, and to get hold of this country like every other." The King of

Sorcha looked at Finn then, and Finn understood it was help from him he

was asking, and it is what he said: "I take the protection of this

country on myself so long as I am in it." He and his people rose up

then, and the King of Sorcha along with them, and they went looking for

the strange army. And when they came up with it they made great

slaughter of its champions, and those they did not kill ran before them,

and made no better stand than a flock of frightened birds, till there

were hardly enough of them left to tell the story.

The High King spoke then, and it is what he said: "Who is it has done

this great slaughter of my people? And I never heard before," he said,

"any talk of the courage or of the doings of the men of Ireland either

at this time or in the old times. But from this out," he said, "I will

banish the Sons of the Gael for ever to the very ends of the earth."

But Finn and the King of Sorcha raised a green tent in view of the ships

of the Greeks.

The King of the Greeks called then for help against Finn and the King of

Sorcha, to get satisfaction for the shame that was put on his people.

And the sons of kings of the eastern and southern world came to his

help, but they could make no stand against Finn and Osgar and Oisin and

Goll, son of Morna. And at the last the King of Greece brought all his

people back home, the way no more of them would be put an end to.

And then Finn and the King of Sorcha called another great gathering. And

while it was going on, they saw coming towards them a great troop of

champions, bearing flags of many-coloured silk, and grey swords at

their sides and high spears reared up over their heads. And in the front

of them was Diarmuid, grandson of Duibhne.

When Finn saw him, he sent Fergus of the True Lips to ask news of him,

and they told one another all that had happened.

And it would take too long to tell, and it would tire the hearers, how

Finn made the Hard Servant bring home his fifteen men that he had

brought away. And when he had brought them back to Ireland, the whole of

the Fianna were watching to see him ride away again, himself and his

long-legged horse. But while they were watching him, he vanished from

them, and all they could see was a mist, and it stretching out towards

the sea.

And that is the story of the Hard Servant, and of Diarmuid's adventures

on the island Under-Wave.

CHAPTER V. THE HOUSE OF THE QUICKEN TREES

And it is often the Fianna would have been badly off without the help of

Diarmuid. It was he came to their help the time Miodac, the son of the

King of Lochlann, brought them into the enchanted House of the Quicken

Trees.

It was by treachery he brought them in, giving himself out to be a poet,

and making poems for Finn to make out the meaning of. A verse he made

about a great army that he saw riding over the plains to victory, and

robbing all before it, and the riders of it having no horses but plants

and branches. "I understand that," said Finn, "it was an army of bees

you saw, that was gathering riches from the flowers as it went." And

another verse Miodac made was about a woman in Ireland that was swifter

than the swiftest horse. "I know that," said Finn, "that woman is the

River Boinn; and if she goes slow itself, she is swifter in the end than

the swiftest horse, for her going never stops." And other verses he made

about Angus' house at Brugh na Boinn, but Finn made them all out.

And after that he said he had a feast ready for them, and he bade them

go into his House of the Quicken Trees till he would bring it. And they

did that, and went in, and it was a beautiful house, having walls of

every colour, and foreign coverings of every colour on the floor, and a

fire that gave out a very pleasant smoke. And they sat down there, and

after a while Finn said: "It is a wonder such a beautiful house to be

here." "There is a greater wonder than that," said Goll; "that fire that

was so pleasant when we came in is giving out now the worst stench in

the world." "There is a greater wonder than that," said Glas; "the walls

that were of all colours are now but rough boards joined together."

"There is a greater wonder than that," said Fiacha; "where there were

seven high doors to the house there is now but one little door, and it

shut." "Indeed, there is a more wonderful thing than that," said Conan;

"for we sat down on beautiful coverings, and now there is nothing

between us and the bare ground, and it as cold as the snow of one

night." And he tried to rise up, but he could not stir, or any of the

rest of them, for there was enchantment that kept them where they were.

And it was the treachery of Miodac, and the spells of the Three Kings of

the Island of the Floods that had brought them into that danger. And

Finn knew by his divination that their enemies were gathering to make an

end of them, and he said to his people there was no use in making

complaints, but to sound the music of the Dord Fiann.

And some of the Fianna that were waiting for him not far off heard that

sorrowful music, and came fighting against Miodac and his armies, and

they fought well, but they could not stand against them. And at the last

it was Diarmuid, grandson of Duibhne, that made an end of Miodac that

was so treacherous, and of the Three Kings of the Island of the Floods,

and took the enchantment off the floor of the House of the Rowan Trees

with their blood.

And when he was freeing the Fianna, Conan called out, asking him to

bring him a share of the feast Miodac had made ready for his own

friends, for there was hunger on him. And when Diarmuid took no heed of

him, he said: "If it was a comely woman was speaking to you, Diarmuid,

you would not refuse to listen."

For if many women loved Diarmuid, there were many he himself gave his

love to; and if he was often called Diarmuid the brave, or the hardy, or

the comely, or the Hawk of Ess Ruadh, it is often he was called as well

the friend and the coaxer of women, Diarmuid-na-man.

BOOK SEVEN: DIARMUID AND GRANIA.

CHAPTER I. THE FLIGHT FROM TEAMHAIR

Finn rose up one morning early in Almhuin of Leinster, and he sat out

alone on the green lawn without a boy or a servant being with him. And

Oisin followed him there, and Diorraing the Druid. "What is the cause of

your early rising, Finn?" said Oisin. "It is not without cause, indeed,

I rise early," said Finn, "for I am without a wife or a companion since

Maighneis, daughter of Black Garraidh, died from me; for quiet sleep is

not used to come to a man that is without a fitting wife." "Why would

you be like that?" said Oisin, "for there is not a woman in all green

Ireland you would throw a look on but we would bring her to you, willing

or unwilling." "I myself could find a wife would be fitting for you,"

said Diorraing. "Who is that?" said Finn. "It is Grania, daughter of the

High King of Ireland," said Diorraing; "and she is the woman of the best

make and shape and the best speech of the women of the whole world." "By

my word, Diorraing," said Finn, "there is strife and disagreement

between the High King and myself this long time, and it would not be

pleasing to me to get a refusal from him. And it is best for you two to

go together," he said, "and to ask his daughter for me in marriage; the

way that if he gives a refusal, it will be to you and not to myself he

will give it." "We will go," said Oisin, "even if it is little profit we

will get by it. And let no one at all know of our going," he said,

"until such time as we are come back again."

After that the two bade farewell to Finn, and set out, and it is not

told what they did till they came to Teamhair. The King of Ireland was

holding a gathering at that time on the green of Teamhair, and the chief

nobles of his people were with him. And there was a friendly welcome

given to Oisin and to Diorraing, and the king put off the gathering

till the next day, for he was sure it was some pressing thing had

brought these two men of the Fianna to Teamhair. And Oisin went aside

with him, and told him it was to ask his daughter Grania in marriage

they were come from Finn, Head of the Fianna of Ireland.

The king spoke, and it is what he said: "There is not a son of a king or

of a great prince, there is not a champion in Ireland my daughter has

not given a refusal to, and it is on me they all lay the blame of that.

And I will give you no answer at all," he said, "till you go to herself;

for it is better for you to get her own answer, than to be displeased

with me."

So they went together to the sunny house of the women, and the king sat

down at the head of the high seat beside Grania, and he said: "Here,

Grania, are two of the people of Finn, son of Cumhal, come to ask you as

a wife for him, and what answer have you a mind to give them?" And it is

what Grania said: "If he is a fitting son-in-law for you, why would he

not be a fitting husband for me?"

They were satisfied then, and there was a feast made for them that night

in Grania's sunny house, and the king settled for a meeting a fortnight

from that time between himself and Finn at Teamhair.

So Oisin and Diorraing went back again to Almhuin, and told Finn their

story from beginning to end. And as everything wears away, so did that

time of delay.

And then Finn gathered together the seven battalions of the Fianna from

every part where they were to Almhuin. And they set out in great bands

and troops till they came to Teamhair.

The king was out on the green before them, and the great people of the

men of Ireland, and there was a great welcome before Finn and the

Fianna.

But when Grania saw grey-haired Finn, she said: "It is a great wonder

it was not for Oisin Finn asked me, for he would be more fitting for me

than a man that is older than my father."

But they talked together for a while, and Finn was putting questions to

Grania, for she had the name of being very quick with answers. "What is

whiter than snow?" he said. "The truth," said Grania. "What is the best

colour?" said Finn. "The colour of childhood," said she. "What is hotter

than fire?" "The face of a hospitable man when he sees a stranger coming

in, and the house empty." "What has a taste more bitter than poison?"

"The reproach of an enemy." "What is best for a champion?" "His doings

to be high, and his pride to be low." "What is the best of jewels?" "A

knife." "What is sharper than a sword?" "The wit of a woman between two

men." "What is quicker than the wind?" said Finn then. "A woman's mind,"

said Grania. And indeed she was telling no lie when she said that. And

for all their talk together she had no liking for Finn, and she felt the

blood in her heart to be rising against him.

And the wedding-feast was made ready then, and they all went into the

king's feasting-house in the Middle Court. And the king sat down to take

his share of drinking and pleasure, and his wife at his left side, and

Grania beside her again; and Finn, son of Cumhal, at the right hand of

the king, and Oisin at the other side, and every other one according to

his nobility and his birth.

Then Daire of the poems stood up before Grania, and sang the songs and

good poems of her fathers to her. And there was sitting near to Grania a

knowledgeable man, a Druid of Finn's people, and it was not long until

they began to talk together. "Tell me now," said Grania, "who is that

man on the right hand of Oisin?" "That is Goll, son of Morna," said the

Druid, "the ready fighter." "Who is that beside Goll?" said Grania.

"Osgar, son of Oisin," said the Druid. "And who is that thin-legged man

beside Osgar?" "That is Caoilte, son of Ronan." "Who is that proud,

hasty man beside Caoilte?" "Lugaidh's Son of the Strong Hand." "Who is

that sweet-worded man," she said then, "with the dark hair, and cheeks

like the rowan berry, on the left side of Oisin, son of Finn?" "That is

Diarmuid, grandson of Duibhne," said the Druid, "that is the best lover

of women in the whole world." "That is a good company," said Grania.

And after the feast had gone on a while, their own feast was made for

the dogs outside. And the dogs began to fight with one another, and the

noise was heard in the hall, and the chief men of the Fianna went to

drive them away from one another.

Now Diarmuid was used to keep his cap always over the love-spot the

woman had left on his forehead, for no woman could see that spot but she

would give him her love. And it chanced, while he was driving the dogs

apart, the cap fell from him, and Grania was looking cut at him as it

fell, and great love for him came on her there and then. And she called

her serving-maid to her, and bade her bring the great golden cup that

held drink for nine times nine men from the sunny house. And when the

serving-maid brought the cup, she filled it with wine that had

enchantment in it, and she said: "Give the cup first to Finn, and bid

him take a drink from it, and tell him it is I myself sent it to him."

So the serving-maid did that, and Finn took the cup and drank out of it,

and no sooner did he drink than he fell into a deep sleep. And then the

cup was given to the king, and the queen, and the sons of kings, and the

whole company, but only Oisin and Osgar and Caoilte and Diarmuid, and

Diorraing the Druid. And all that drank of it fell into the same heavy

sleep.

And when they were all in their sleep, Grania rose up softly from the

seat where she was, and she turned her face to Diarmuid, and she said:

"Will you take my love, Diarmuid, son of Duibhne, and will you bring me

away out of this house to-night?"

"I will not," said Diarmuid; "I will not meddle with the woman that is

promised to Finn." "If that is so," said Grania, "I put you under Druid

bonds, to bring me out of this house to-night before the awaking of Finn

and of the King of Ireland from their sleep."

"It is under bad bonds you are putting me, Grania," said Diarmuid. "And

why is it," he said, "that you put them on me more than on the great men

and sons of kings that are in the Middle Court to-night? for there is

not one of them all but is as well worthy of a woman's love as myself."

"By my hand, Diarmuid, it is not without cause I laid those bonds on

you," said Grania; "for I was at the door a while ago when you were

parting the dogs," she said, "and my eyes fell on you, and I gave you

the love there and then that I never gave to any other, and never will

give for ever."

"It is a wonder you to give that love to me, and not to Finn," said

Diarmuid, "for there is not in Ireland a man is a better lover of a

woman than himself. And do you know this, Grania," he said, "the night

Finn is in Teamhair it is he himself is the keeper of its gates. And as

that is so, we cannot leave the town." "There is a side door of escape

at my sunny house," said Grania, "and we will go out by it." "It is a

thing I will never do," said Diarmuid, "to go out by any side door of

escape at all." "That may be so," said Grania, "but I heard it said that

every fighting man has leave to pass over the walls of any dun and of

any strong place at all by the shafts of his spears. And I will go out

through the door," she said, "and let you follow me like that."

With that she went out, and Diarmuid spoke to his people, and it is what

he said, "O Oisin, son of Finn, what must I do with these bonds that

are laid on me?" "You are not guilty if the bonds were laid on you,"

said Oisin; "and I tell you to follow Grania, and to keep yourself well

out of the hands of Finn." "Osgar, son of Oisin," he said then, "what

must I do with these bonds that are put on me?" "I tell you to follow

Grania," said Osgar, "for it is a pitiful man that would break his

bonds." "What advice do you give me, Caoilte?" said Diarmuid. "It is

what I say," said Caoilte, "that I myself have a fitting wife; and that

it would be better to me than all the riches of the world Grania to have

given me that love." "What advice do you give me, Diorraing?" "I tell

you to follow Grania," said Diorraing, "although you will get your death

by it, and that is bad to me." "Is that the advice you all give me?"

said Diarmuid. "It is," said Oisin, and all the rest with him. With that

Diarmuid stood up and stretched out his hand for his weapons, and he

said farewell to Oisin and the others, and every tear he shed was of the

size of a mountain berry. He went out then to the wall of the dun, and

he put the shafts of his two spears under him, and he rose with a light

leap and he came down on the grassy earth outside, and Grania met him

there. Then Diarmuid said: "It is a bad journey you are come on, Grania.

For it would be better for you to have Finn, son of Cumhal, as a lover

than myself, for I do not know any part or any western corner of Ireland

that will hide you. And if I do bring you with me," he said, "it is not

as a wife I will bring you, but I will keep my faith to Finn. And turn

back now to the town," he said, "and Finn will never get news of what

you are after doing." "It is certain I will not turn back," said Grania,

"and I will never part with you till death parts us." "If that is so,

let us go on, Grania," said Diarmuid.

They went on then, and they were not gone far out from the town when

Grania said: "I am getting tired, indeed." "It is a good time to be

tired," said Diarmuid, "and go now back again to your own house. For I

swear by the word of a true champion," he said, "I will never carry

yourself or any other woman to the end of life and time." "That is not

what you have to do," said Grania, "for my father's horses are in a

grass field by themselves, and chariots with them; and turn back now,

and bring two horses of them, and I will wait in this place till you

come to me again."

Diarmuid went back then for the horses, and we have no knowledge of

their journey till they reached to the ford on the Sionnan, that is

called now Ath-luain.

And Diarmuid said then to Grania: "It is easier to Finn to follow our

track, the horses being with us." "If that is so," said Grania: "leave

the horses here, and I will go on foot from this out."

Diarmuid went down to the river then, and he brought a horse with him

over the ford, and left the other horse the far side of the river. And

he himself and Grania went a good way with the stream westward, and they

went to land at the side of the province of Connacht. And wherever they

went, Diarmuid left unbroken bread after him, as a sign to Finn he had

kept his faith with him.

And from that they went on to Doire-da-Bhoth, the Wood of the Two Huts.

And Diarmuid cut down the wood round about them, and he made a fence

having seven doors of woven twigs, and he set out a bed of soft rushes

and of the tops of the birch-tree for Grania in the very middle of the

wood.

CHAPTER II. THE PURSUIT

And as to Finn, son of Cumhal, I will tell out his story now.

All that were in Teamhair rose up early in the morning of the morrow,

and they found Diarmuid and Grania were wanting from them, and there

came a scorching jealousy and a weakness on Finn. He sent out his

trackers then on the plain, and bade them to follow Diarmuid and Grania.

And they followed the track as far as the ford on the Sionnan, and Finn

and the Fianna followed after them, but they were not able to carry the

track across the ford. And Finn gave them his word that unless they

would find the track again without delay, he would hang them on each

side of the ford.

Then the sons of Neamhuin went up against the stream, and they found a

horse on each side of it, and then they went on with the stream

westward, and they found the track going along the side of the Province

of Connacht, and Finn and the Fianna of Ireland followed it on. And Finn

said: "I know well where we will find Diarmuid and Grania now; it is in

Doire-da-Bhoth they are." Oisin and Osgar and Caoilte and Diorraing were

listening when Finn said those words. And Osgar spoke to the others, and

it is what he said: "There is danger they might be there, and it would

be right for us to give them some warning; and look now, Osgar, where is

Bran the hound, for Finn himself is no dearer to him than Diarmuid, and

bid him go now with a warning to him."

So Osgar told Bran, and Bran understood him well, and she went to the

rear of the whole troop the way Finn would not see her, and she followed

on the track of Diarmuid and Grania till she came to Doire-da-Bhoth, and

she put her head into Diarmuid's bosom, and he in his sleep.

Diarmuid started up out of his sleep then, and he awoke Grania, and said

to her: "Here is Bran, Finn's hound, and she is come with a warning to

tell us Finn himself is coming." "Let us take that warning, then," said

Grania, "and make your escape." "I will not take it," said Diarmuid,

"for if I cannot escape Finn, I would as soon he took me now as at any

other time." When Grania heard that, great fear came on her.