Chapter XV: Part 15

“I do not,” said the forester; “but I know where the Black-Blue Giant lives, and he knows every place in the world. That giant has never given a meal or a night’s lodging to any man. He has an only daughter, who is in love with you, since she saw you two years ago in combat with the Champion of the Eastern World on Ventry Strand, although you did not see her. This daughter is closely confined by the giant, fearing she may escape to you; and if you succeed in reaching her, she is likely to know, if her father knows, where the Mountain of Happiness is.”

“How did you get tidings of the giant’s daughter?” asked Dyeermud.

“I will not tell you now,” said the forester, “but I will go with you to guide you to the giant, and I may give you assistance. Here are three keys,—the keys of the castles of the Dun Ox, of the Kitten of Cul MacKip, and of the Cat of Gray Fort; they are yours now.”

“Those keys are not mine,” said Dyeermud; “they belong to Faolan, who slew the three owners.”

“If Faolan slew them,” said the forester, “he had assistance, which caused you to come to him.”

“Keep the keys till we come back,” said Dyeermud.

The seven travelled on then, and were going ten days when they saw the giant’s castle. Now this castle stood on one leg, and whirled around always.

“I will use my strength on that castle, to know can I stop it,” said Dyeermud.

“You cannot stop it,” said the forester. “I will stop it myself. Do you watch the door of the castle, which is on the top of the roof, and, when the castle stops, spring in through the door, and seize the giant, if he is inside, and compel him to give a night’s lodging.”

The forester then made for the castle, and, placing his shoulder against one of the corners, kept it standing still; and Dyeermud, leaping in by the roof, came down before the giant, who had started up, knowing something was wrong when the castle stood still.

Dyeermud and the giant grappled each other so fiercely, and fought with such fury, that the castle was shivering. The giant’s wife begged them to go out of the castle, and fight on the open, and not frighten the life out of herself and the child in her arms.

Out went the Black-Blue Giant and Dyeermud, and fought until Dyeermud brought down the giant and sprained his back. The giant let a roar out of him, and begged there for quarter.

“Your head is mine,” answered Dyeermud.

“It is,” said the giant; “but spare me, and I will give you whatever you ask for.”

“I want lodging for myself and my company.”

“You will get that,” said the giant.

All then went into the giant’s castle; and when they were sitting at dinner, Dyeermud ate nothing.

“Why is this?” asked the giant.

“It is the custom of the Fenians of Erin,” said he, “not to eat at a table where all the members of the house are not present.”

“All my people are here,” said the giant.

“They are not,” answered Dyeermud; “you have one daughter not present.”

The giant had to bring the daughter. They ate then. The forester talked after dinner with Dyeermud, and said, “The giant’s daughter has a maid; you must bribe her to give you the key of her mistress’s chamber; and if you come by the young woman’s secrets, she may tell you where the Mountain of Happiness is, if she knows.”

Dyeermud went to the maid. “You will not be here always,” said he; “your mistress will marry me, and leave this castle; then you’ll have no business here. I will take you with us if you give me the key of the chamber.”

“The giant himself keeps that key under his pillow at night; he sleeps only one nap, like a bird, but sleeps heavily that time. If you promise to take me with my mistress, I’ll strive to bring the key hither.”

“I promise,” said Dyeermud.

The maid brought the key, and gave it on condition that she was to have it again within an hour. Dyeermud went then to the giant’s daughter, and when her first wonder was over, he asked, “Do you know where the Mountain of Happiness is?”

“I do not. My father knows well, but for some reason he has never told me, so he must have fared very badly there; but if you lay his head on a block, and threaten to cut it off with your sword, he will tell you, if you ask him; but otherwise he will not tell.”

“I will do that; and I will take you to Erin when I go,” answered Dyeermud.

“Where is the Mountain of Happiness?” asked Dyeermud of the giant, next morning.

He would not tell. Dyeermud caught the giant, who could not resist him on account of his sprained back; he drew him out, placed his head on a block, and said, “I will cut the head off you now, unless you tell me what you know of the Mountain of Happiness. The Fenians of Erin have but the one word, and it is useless for you to resist me; you must go with us, and show us the way to the mountain.”

The giant, finding no escape possible, promised to go. They set out soon, taking all the arms needed. As the mountain was not far distant, they reached the place without great delay. The giant showed them the lair of the oxen, but after a promise that he should be free to escape should danger threaten.

“I know all the rest now,” said the forester. “Do you,” said he to Dyeermud, “stand straight in front of the lair, and I, with Faolan, will stand with drawn swords, one on each side of the entrance; and do you,” said he to the four brothers, “knock down the entrance, and open the place for the oxen to rush out. If the head of each ox is not cut off when he stands in the entrance, the world would not kill him from that out.”

All was done at the forester’s word. The entrance was not long open, when out rushed an ox; but his head was knocked off by the forester. Faolan slew the second ox; but the third ox followed the second so quickly that he broke away, took Dyeermud on his horns, and went like a flash to the top of the Mountain of Happiness. This mountain stood straight in front of the lair, but was far away. On the mountain, the ox attacked Dyeermud; and they fought for seven days and nights in a savage encounter. At the end of seven days, Dyeermud remembered that there was no help for him there, that he was far from his mother and sister, who were all he had living, and that if he himself did not slay the fierce ox, he would never see home again; so, with one final effort, he drove his sword through the heart of the ox. He himself was so spent from the struggle and blood-loss that he fainted, and would have died on the mountain, but for his companions, who came now. They were seven days on the road over which the ox passed in a very few minutes.

The forester rubbed Dyeermud with ointment, and all his strength came to him. They opened the ox, took out all the tallow, and, going back to the other two oxen, did in like manner, saving the tallow of each of them separately. They went next to the castle of the Black-Blue Giant.

“Will you set out for home to-morrow?” asked the forester, turning to Dyeermud.

“We will,” answered Dyeermud.

“Oh, foolish people!” said the forester. “Those three oxen were brothers of Grainne, and were living in enchantment; should she get the tallow of each ox by itself and entire, she would bring back the three brothers to life, and they would destroy all the Fenians of Erin. We will hang up the tallow in the smoke of the Black-Blue Giant’s chimney; it will lose some of itself there. When she gets it, it will not have full weight. We will change your beds and your tables while you are waiting, so as to observe the injunction. You must do this; for if you do not make an end of Grainne, Grainne will make an end of you.”

All was done as the forester said. At the end of a week, when Faolan and his friend were setting out for Erin, the giant and his wife fell to weeping and wailing after their daughter, who was going with Dyeermud.

“We will come back again soon,” said Dyeermud, “and then will have a great feast for this marriage.”

“It is here that I will have my marriage feast, too,” said Faolan.

The forester, who was an old man, said perhaps he might have a marriage feast at that time as well as the others. At this they all laughed.

The giant and his wife were then satisfied; and the company set out for the forester’s cabin. When they reached the cabin, the forester said to Dyeermud, “As I served you, I hope that you will do me a good turn.”

“I will do you a good turn,” said Dyeermud, “if I lose my life in doing it.”

“Cut off my head,” said the forester.

“I will not,” replied Dyeermud.

“Well,” said the old man, “if you do not, you will leave me in great distress; for I, too, am under enchantment, and there is no power to save me unless you, Dyeermud, cut off my head with the sword that killed the oldest of the oxen.”

When Dyeermud saw how he could serve the forester, he cut off his head with one blow, and there rose up before him a young man of twenty-one years.

“My name is Arthur, son of Deara,” said the young man to Dyeermud; “I was enchanted by my stepmother, and I am in love with your sister since I saw her two years ago on Ventry Strand, when you were in combat with the Champion of the Eastern World. Will you let your sister marry me?”

“I will,” replied Dyeermud; “and she will not marry any man but the one that I will choose for her.”

“I helped Faolan,” said Arthur, “in all his struggles, except that against the Dun Ox.”

Next day all went to the castle of the four champions and their sister, and, leaving the women in that place, they set out for Erin.

When the Fenians of Erin saw them sailing in toward Ventry Strand, they raised three shouts of joyous welcome. Whoever was glad, or was not glad, Grainne was glad, because there was an end, as she thought, to her suffering. Indeed, she would not have lived at all had she kept the injunctions, but she did not; she received meat and eggs on Sliav Iolar from all the women who took pity on her and went to visit her. So when she got the tallow, she weighed it, and finding it some ounces short, gave out three piercing wails of distress, and when Dyeermud, who was of fiery temper, saw that Faolan was not willing to punish the woman, he raised his own sword, and swept the head off her.

Fin embraced Faolan and welcomed him. Dyeermud went to his mother and sister.

“Will you marry a young champion whom I have brought with me?” asked he of the sister.

“I will marry no one,” said she, “but the man you will choose for me.”

“Very well,” said Dyeermud, “there is such a man outside.” He led her out, and she and Arthur were well pleased with each other.

Dyeermud, with his sister and Arthur and Faolan, set out on the following day, and never stopped nor stayed till they reached the castle of the four champions and their sister; and, taking Faolan’s betrothed and Dyeermud along with them, they travelled on till they stopped at the castle of the Black-Blue Giant. Faolan’s mother was there before him; and glad was she, and rejoiced, to see her own son.

There were three weddings in one at the castle of the giant: Arthur and Dyeermud’s sister; Faolan and the sister of the four champions; Dyeermud and the daughter of the Black-Blue Giant.

When the feasting was over, Faolan’s mother called him, and asked, “Will you go to my kingdom, which is yours by inheritance, the country of the Dark Men, and rule there?”

“I will,” said Faolan, “on condition that I am to be sent for if ever the Fenians should need my assistance.” He then gave his share in the land of the wild hag, and his claim to the castles of the Cat of Gray Fort, the Kitten of Cul MacKip, and the Dun Ox, to Arthur and Dyeermud, and these two shared those places between them. They attended Faolan and his wife to the country of the Dark Men, and then returned. Faolan’s mother went to Fintra, and lived with Fin MacCool.

FIN MACCOOL, THE HARD GILLA, AND THE HIGH KING.

On a day when the Fenians were living at Fintra, Fin MacCool called them together, held a council, complained of remissness, and warned the men to be cautious, to keep a better watch on the harbors, and to take good care of their arms. They promised to do better in future, and asked Fin to forgive them for that time. Fin forgave them, and sent men to keep watch on Cruach Varhin.

When on the mountain awhile, the chief sentry saw, in the distance, a man leading a horse toward Fintra. He thought to run down with word to Fin, but did not; he waited to see what kind of person was coming. The man leading the horse was far from being tidy: his shoes were untied, and the strings hanging down; on his shoulders was a mantle, flapping around in the wind. The horse had a broad, surly face; his neck was thick at the throat, and thin toward the body: the beast was scrawny, long-legged, lean, thin-maned, and ugly to look at. The only bridle on the horse was a long, heavy chain; the whip in the hand of the man was a strong iron staff. Each blow that the man gave his steed was heard through the glens and the mountains, and knocked echoes out of every cliff in that region. Each pull that the man gave the bridle was that strong, that you would think he’d tear the head off the ugly beast’s body. Every clump of earth that the horse rooted up with his feet, in striving to hold back, was three times the size of a sod of turf ready for burning.

“It is time for me now,” said the watchman, at last, “to hurry from this, and tell Fin,” and with that he rushed down from Cruach Varhin.

Fin saw him coming, and was ready for his story; and not too soon was it told; for just then the horseman came up to the King of the Fenians at Fintra.

“Who are you?” inquired Fin.

“I do not know who my father was,” said the stranger. “I am of one place as well as another. Men call me the Hard Gilla; and it is a good name: for no matter how well people treat me I forget all they do. I have heard, though, that you give most wages, and best treatment of any man.”

“I will give you good wages,” said Fin, “and fair treatment; but how much do you want of me?”

“I want whatever I ask.”

“I will give you that and more, if I promise,” said Fin.

“I am your man,” said the Gilla. “Now that we have agreed, I may let my horse out to graze, I suppose?”

“You may,” answered Fin.

The Gilla untied the chain bridle from his horse, and struck him with the chain. The beast went to the other horses; but if he did, he fell to eating the mane, legs, ears, and tail of each one of them, and ate all till he came to a steed grazing apart, and this steed belonged to Conan Maol. Conan ran, caught the ugly old horse by the skull, and pulled him up to his owner.

“Mind your wicked old cripple!” cried Conan, in anger.

“If any man does not like how my horse feeds, he may herd the good steed himself.”

When Conan heard this insolence, he went to the adviser for counsel. The adviser told him to go upon the back of the horse, and to ride till he broke him. Conan mounted the horse; but not a stir could he get from the stubborn beast.

“He is used to heavy loads,” said the adviser. “Let others mount with you.”

The Fenians were mounting the horse till twenty-eight men of them went up with Conan. The twenty-nine began then to wallop the horse, but could not raise a stir out of him. The old horse only cocked one ear. When the Gilla saw the twenty-nine on his horse, he called out, “It seems that we do not agree; and the sooner I go from this place the better.”

He tightened his cloak, flapping loose on his body, tied his shoes, and said, “In place of praising, I will dispraise you.” Then he went in front of the horse. The horse raised his tail and his head, and between his tail and his neck he held the men firmly. Some tried to jump off, but were as secure on the horse as his own skin. Conan was the first to speak. When he saw that he could not spring from the horse, he turned to Fin, and cried out, “I bind you, O Fin, not to eat two meals off the one table, or sleep two nights on the one bed, till you have me freed from this serpent.”

When Fin and the Fenians heard this, they looked at one another. The adviser spoke then, and said, “There is no time for delay. We have here a man to follow, and he is Leeagawn of Lúachar Garv.”

Fin called Leeagawn, and he went after the steed quickly, caught him at the edge of the strand, and seized him by the tail; but if he did, he grew fast to the tail of the horse, and was pulled forward to the strand. He tried to loose himself from the tail, but no use for him to try. The horse drew him into the water. The sea opened before the strange steed, and closed behind. The Gilla ran in front. Twenty-nine men were on the back of the horse, and one fixed to his tail.

Fin and the Fenians were greatly distressed at the sight, but could give no assistance. They held council; and the druid said, “There is an old ship in Ben Eadan; put that ship in repair, and sail after the steed.”

“Let us go,” said the Fenians, “for the ship.”

As they were making ready to start, two young champions hurried up to Fin, and saluted him.

“Who are ye?” asked Fin, returning the salute; “and whither are ye going?”

“We are the two sons of a king,” replied they; “each has a gift, and we have come to you to know which is the better gift to live by. The two gifts are two powers left us by our father.”

“What is your power?” asked Fin of the elder brother.

“Do you see this branch?” said he. “If I strike the water of the harbor with this branch, the harbor will be filled with ships till they are crushing one another. When you choose the one you like, I will make the others disappear as quickly as you can bow your head.”

“What can you do?” asked Fin of the younger brother.

“If a wild duck were to dart forth from her nest, I could keep in sight of the bird, and she going straight or crooked, high or low, I could catch her before she could fly back to the nest from which she came.”

When they had done speaking, Fin said, “I have never been in more need of your help than I am at this moment.” He told them then of the Gilla, and of all that had happened. The elder brother struck the harbor with his branch; the harbor was filled with ships in one minute. Fin chose the ship he liked best, and said, “I’ll take that one.” In a twinkle the other ships vanished.

When the men were all ready to go on the ship, Fin called Oisin, and said to him, “I leave the ruling of Erin with you, till I come back to this harbor.” He bade farewell then to Oisin and the Fenians. The younger of the two champions stood at the prow, the elder at the stern. The younger followed the horse in crooked and straight paths through the sea, told his brother how to steer on the voyage. They kept on till, at length, and at last, they came to a haven with a steep, rugged shore, and no ship could enter.

“This is where the steed went in,” said the younger brother.

When the Fenians saw the haven, they looked at one another. It was a very steep place; and all said, “We cannot land here.”

“There will be an evil report for the Fenians of Erin, or for men trained by Fin, if no one can spring to land,” said the druid.

“Well,” said Dyeermud, “there was never a man at Fintra who could make such a spring, if I cannot make it.”

He buckled his belt firmly, and went to the stern of the ship to find space for a run; then he rushed to the prow, and rose with one bound to the top of the cliff. When he looked back, and saw his comrades below, he was frightened.

Dyeermud left the ship and the Fenians, and walked forward alone. Toward evening, he saw a herd of deer; he pursued them, and caught a doe, which he killed; he made a fire, roasted the carcass, ate of it, and drank pure spring water. He made a hut then of limbs, and slept quietly till morning. After breakfast, a gruagach came the way, and called out to him, “Is not Erin wide enough for you to live in, instead of coming hither to steal my herds from me?”

“Though I might have been willing to go when you came,” replied Dyeermud, “I will not go now since you speak so unmannerly.”

“You must fight with me then,” said the gruagach.

“I will indeed,” said Dyeermud.

They took their spears and swords, and fought all that day until evening, when the gruagach saw that Dyeermud was getting the upper hand. He leaped into the spring from which Dyeermud had drunk the cool water. Dyeermud ran quickly, and thrust his sword into the water, but no sign of the gruagach.

“I will watch for you to-morrow,” said Dyeermud to himself; so he waited near the spring until morning.

The gruagach stood before him next day more threatening to look at than ever, and said, “It seems you hadn’t fighting enough from me yesterday.”

“I told you that I would not go,” answered Dyeermud, “till I had knocked satisfaction out of you for your ugly speech.”

They went at each other then, and fought fiercely till very near evening. Dyeermud watched the spring closely, and when the gruagach leaped in, he was with him. In the side of the spring was a passage; the two walked through that passage, and came out in a kingdom where there was a grand castle, and seven men at each side of the door. When Dyeermud went toward the castle, the fourteen rushed against him. He slew these, and all others who faced him till nightfall. He would not enter the castle, but stretched himself on the ground, and fell fast asleep. Soon a champion came, tapped him lightly with a sword, and said, “Rise now, and speak to me.”

Dyeermud sprang up, and grasped his sword.

“I am not an enemy, but a friend,” said the champion. “It is not proper for you to be sleeping in the midst of your enemies. Come to my castle; I will entertain you, and give you good keeping.”

Dyeermud went with the stranger; and they became faithful friends. “The king of this country, which is called Tir Fohin [Land Under the Wave], is my brother,” said the champion. “The kingdom is rightfully mine, and ’tis I that should be King of Tir Fohin; but my brother corrupted my warriors with promises, so that all except thirty men of them left me.”

This champion was called the Knight of Valor. Dyeermud told this knight his whole story,—told of the Hard Gilla, and his long-legged, scrawny, thin-maned, ugly old horse.

“I am the man,” said the knight, “that will find out the Hard Gilla for you. That Gilla is the best swordsman and champion in this land, and the greatest enchanter. Your men, brought away by him, are as safe and as sound as when they left Erin. He is a good friend of mine.”

“Now,” said Dyeermud, “for your kindness (you might have killed me when I was asleep), and for your entertainment, I give my word to fight against your brother, and win back your kingdom.”

Dyeermud sent a challenge to the King of Tir Fohin. The knight and Dyeermud, with the knight’s thirty men, fought against the king’s forces, fought all that day until evening; then the king withdrew to the castle to keep his hold firm on the chief place, but Dyeermud rushed in, brought him out to the green, threw him on the flat of his back, and shouted, “Are you not satisfied yet?”

“I am if the men are,” said the king.

“Will you obey the Knight of Valor?” asked Dyeermud of the men.

“We will,” answered they.

The men gave their word to obey with all faithfulness. Dyeermud gave the false king thirty men then; and the Knight of Valor became king in his own land. On the morrow, Dyeermud and the king went with forces to the Gilla’s castle; and when they entered the gates, the Gilla came out, received them with welcome and hand-shaking. There was great rejoicing, and good cheer at the Gilla’s castle.

When Dyeermud did not return to the vessel, Fin and the two young champions thought to find an easier landing in some place; they put their ship around, and sailed forward, sailed and sailed; and where should they come at last but to the castle of the King of Sorách (Light), who received them with welcome, and entertained them with the best that he had in his castle.

But they were hardly seated at table, when the chief messenger of the King of Sorách came hurrying in and said, that there was a fleet sailing toward them, which was as numerous as the sands on the seashore, that it was coming for tribute, which had not been collected for many a year.

The king had a grieved and sorrowful face. “That is the High King of the World coming against me,” said he.

“Never fear,” said Fin MacCool. “Cheer up, and have courage. I and my men will stand up for you. We will fight to the death to defend you.”

On the following day, the High King sent forces to land, to attack the King of Sorách in his castle. These forces were under command of Borb Sinnsior na Gah, son of the High King. The greatest delight of the High King was his daughter, a beautiful maiden called Teasa Taov Geal; and the thought came to her that day to see the battle. “I will go,” said she, “with my brother, and see him take the king’s castle.”

On Fin’s side, the two young champions his guides were eager to be in the struggle; but Fin would not hear of that. “You must stay with the ship,” said he, “and take us to Erin, when the time comes.”

As soon as Fin saw the attack was led by the son of the High King, he said, “I will take command in the battle, and lead the men in action to-day. We will show the invaders what the Fenians do in battle.”

Oscar went with Fin, and so did Goll MacMorna. The battle raged grandly; the men of the High King fell in crowds until evening, what was left of them then went to the ships, and sailed back in haste to their master.

When the news reached the High King, he called his druid for advice.

“This is not the time to make war on the King of Sorách,” said the druid; “for Fin MacCool and his men are living in friendship at his castle; they will help him to the end of this struggle. Go home for the present, and come again when Fin has gone back to Erin.”

The king was inclined to do this; but his daughter had seen Fin MacCool in the battle, and fallen in love with him. She sent him a message, saying, “I will go with you. I will leave my father for your sake. I love you.”

The answer that Fin sent, was to come to him; he would take her with gladness to Erin.

The king was grieved at the loss of his daughter. “I might go home now,” said he, “and come back at another time; but how can I go, and leave my daughter behind me?”

There was a champion called Lavran MacSuain, who could steal anything while men were asleep, and make them sleep all the more, but could not do harm to them. Lavran volunteered to bring back the daughter.

“If I find them asleep,” said he, “I will bring her back; if you give me a reward.”

“I will pay you well,” said the king. “I will not spare rewards on you, if you bring me my daughter.”

When Lavran came to where Fin was, he found him and the Fenians asleep, and put them in a still deeper sleep. He brought Teasa Taov Geal to her father’s ship then. The fleet sailed away in the night; and at daybreak there was not a trace of it.

Next morning when Fin woke, and found that the king’s daughter was gone, he sprang up, and was raging with anger. He sent men to look for the fleet; but not a boat nor a ship was in sight.

Oscar and Goll, seeing Fin in such passion, said, “We will go, if a druid goes with us. He will find out the castle by his knowledge; and we will bring the woman back, or die while striving to bring her.”

Next morning, Goll and Oscar took a ready ship from the fleet of the King of Sorách, set sail, and never stopped till they touched land near the castle of the High King.

“The best way for us,” said the druid, on landing, “is to say that we are bards, till we learn where the strength of the king is.”

“We will not do that,” said Oscar. “We will go straight forward, and bring the woman back with the strength of our arms.”

They went straight from the strand toward the castle. At the wayside was a rath where the daughter of the king was at that time, and no great number of men there to guard her. Goll and Oscar attacked the guards, cut them down, and took Taov Geal.

“The king is coming home from a hunt,” said the druid; “it is better to hurry back to our ship.”

“We will sharpen our weapons,” said Oscar, “and strike the king’s men, if they come toward us; but do you take the woman, and go in all haste to the ship. We will stay behind to protect you.”

The druid took Taov Geal, who was willing and glad, when she heard who had come for her. They reached the ship safely. Goll and Oscar came soon after, sprang into the ship, set sail, and never stopped till they brought Teasa Taov Geal to Fin at the castle of the King of Sorách. There was a feast then far greater than the one which the High King had interrupted the first day.

“I will take you to Erin,” said Fin to Taov Geal.

“I will go with you,” said she.

“I know the Hard Gilla well,” said the King of Sorách to Fin MacCool. “I will go with you to him; he is a great champion, and a mighty enchanter.”

The king and his men, with Fin and the Fenians, went to the lands of the Gilla; and when he saw them all, he brought them into his castle, and treated them well. Dyeermud and the King of Tir Fohin were there also; they had been enjoying themselves, and feasting with the Gilla, while Fin and the others were fighting with the High King, and stealing his daughter.

Conan and the twenty-nine Fenians were all in good health; and Fin had the daughter of the High King in the castle, intending to take her to Erin.

Said Fin to the Gilla one day, “It was you and Conan who had the first quarrel, he and you are the men who began these adventures. I will leave him and you to end the whole story. Conan is not easy to talk with, and you are a hard man to conquer.”

Conan was called up.

“What have you to say of our host,” inquired Fin; “and what would you do for him?”

“I was treated here as well as you have ever treated me in Fintra, or as any man treated me in another place,” said Conan. “My sentence is this, Let him come to Erin with us in our ship, feast with us in Fintra, and ride home on his own horse.”

“I will do that,” said the Gilla.

Conan and the Gilla, with all the Fenians, went to the ship. Fin brought the daughter of the High King on board, and all sailed away to Erin.

The Gilla was entertained to his heart’s content, till one day he said, “I must leave you now, and go to my own place.”

Conan and a number of Fenians went to the seashore to see him ride away. “Where is your horse?” asked Conan.

“Here,” said the Gilla.

Conan turned to see the ugly long-legged beast, but saw nothing. He turned then to look at the Gilla, but saw only mist stretching out toward the water.

THE BATTLE OF VENTRY.

It was predicted seven years before the battle of Ventry, that Daire Donn, High King of the Great World, would invade Erin to conquer it. Fin MacCool, for this reason, placed sentries at the chief ports of Erin. At Ventry, Conn Crithir was stationed on the top of Cruach Varhin to give warning; but he overslept when the fleet came: and the first news he had of its coming was from the cries of people attacked by the invaders. Conn Crithir sprang up, and said,—

“Great is the misery that has come by my sleep; but Fin and the Fenians will not see me alive after this. I will rush into the midst of the foreigners; and they will fall by me, till I fall by them.”

So he ran down toward the strand. On the way, he saw three strange women running before him. He increased his speed; but, unable to overtake them, he caught his spear to hurl it at the one nearest him.

The women stopped that moment, and cried, “Stay your hand, and do not kill innocent women who have come not to harm but to help you.”

“Who are ye?” asked Conn Crithir.

“We are three sisters who have come from Tirnanog. We are all three in love with you; but no one of us is jealous of the other. We will hide you with an enchanted cloud, so that you can attack the foreign forces unseen. We have a well of healing at the foot of Sliav Iolar; and its waters will cure every wound made in battle. After bathing in it, you will be as sound as the day you were born.”

Conn Crithir was grateful, and hurried to the strand, where he slew four hundred men of the enemy on the first day. He was covered with wounds himself; but the three sisters took him to the well. He bathed in it, and was as sound as on the day he was born.

Conn Crithir was this way in struggle and combat, till Teastalach Treunmhar, the chief courier of Fin MacCool, came to Ventry.

“Have you tidings of Fin and the Fenians?” asked Conn.

“I have. They are at the River Lee,” said Teastalach.

“Go to them quickly,” said Conn, “and tell how we are here. Let them come hither to save us.”

“It would ill become me to go till I had moistened my sword in the blood of the enemy,” said Teastalach; and he sent a challenge for single combat to the High King.

“I am the man to meet that warrior,” said Colahan MacDochar, the king’s champion; and he went on shore without waiting.

Colahan was thirty feet in height, and fifteen around the waist. When he landed, he went at Teastalach. They fought one hour, and fought with such fury, the two of them, that their swords and spears went to pieces. The sword of Colahan was broken at the hilt; but of Teastalach’s blade there remained a piece as long as the breadth of a man’s palm.

Colahan, who was enraged that any champion could stand against him for the space of even one hour, seized Teastalach in his arms, to carry him living to the ship of the High King, twist off his head there, and raise it on a stake before the forces of the world. When he came to deep water, he raised Teastalach on his shoulder; but Teastalach, the swift courier of Fin MacCool, turned quickly, cut the head off his enemy, brought that head to the strand, and made boast of his deed.

Now Teastalach went to where Fin and his forces were, and told him of all that happened. Fin marched straightway, and never stopped nor rested till he came to Maminch, within twenty miles of Ventry. Fin rested there for the night; but Oscar, son of Oisin, with Conn Ceadach and one other, went forward. Before going, Oscar turned to Fin, and said, “Chew your thumb, and tell us what will be the end of our struggle.”

Fin chewed his thumb from the skin to the flesh, from the flesh to the bone, from the bone to the marrow, from the marrow to the juice, and said, “The victory will be on our side, but little else will be with us. The battle will last for a day and a year, and every day will be a day of fierce struggle. No man of the foreigners will escape; and on our side few will be left living, and none without wounds.”

Oscar went his way then till he reached Ventry. Fin came on the second day, and stopped with all his forces at Rahonáin. Next morning, he asked, “Who will command the battle to-day?”

“We will go with two hundred,” said Oisin and Oscar.

They went toward the harbor; and a great troop landed to meet them. The two parties faced each other then, and fought till near evening; when all were killed on the side of the foreigners except three smiths, and of Fin’s men there remained only Oisin, Oscar, and Goll, son of Morna.

On the following morning, Oisin and Oscar went with two hundred more, but without Goll. The foreign troop came in numbers as before: and at midday there was no man left living of Fin’s men but Oisin and Oscar; on the foreign side all had fallen except the three smiths, who were mighty champions. Oscar and Oisin faced the smiths. Oscar had two men against him; and Oisin’s enemy was forcing him backward toward the water. Fin, seeing this, feared for his son, and sent a poet to praise and encourage him.

“Now is the time to prove your valor and greatness, Oisin”, said the poet. “You never went to any place but a king’s daughter, or a high beauty, fell in love with you. Many are looking this day at you; and now is your time to show bravery.”

Oisin was greatly encouraged; so he grew in fury and increased on his blows, till at last he swept the head off his enemy. About the same time, Oscar killed the two other smiths; but, being faint from open wounds and blood-loss, he fell senseless on the strand. Oisin, his father, rushed to him, and held him till aid came. They carried him to Rahonáin, where, after a long time, he revived.

The smiths had one brother in the fleet of the High King, and his name was Dealv Dura. This man, who was the first champion in the armies of the High King, fell into great grief, and swore to have vengeance for his brothers. He went to the High King, and said, “I will go alone to the strand, and will slay two hundred men every day till I have slain all the forces of Erin; and if any man of your troops interfere, I will kill him.”

Next morning, Fin asked who would conduct the battle on that day.

“I will,” said Duvan, son of Donn, “with two hundred men.”

“Go not,” said Fin. “Let another go.”

But Duvan went to the strand with two hundred; and there was no one before him but Dealv Dura, who demanded two hundred men in combat. A shout of derision went up from Duvan’s men; but Dealv rushed at them, and he slew the two hundred without a man of them being able to put a sword-cut on him. Then, taking a hurley and ball, Dealv Dura threw up the ball, and kept it in the air with the hurley from the western to the eastern end of the strand, without letting it touch the ground even one time. Then, he put the ball on his right foot, and kicked it high in the air; when it was near the earth, he sent it up with the left foot, and kept the ball in the air with his two feet, and never let it touch the earth once, while he was rushing from one end of the strand to the other. Next, he put the ball on his right knee, sent it up with that, caught it on the left knee, and kept the ball in the air with his two knees while he was running from one end of the strand to the other. Last, he put the ball on one shoulder, threw it up with that shoulder, caught it on the other, and kept the ball in the air with his two shoulders while he was rushing like a blast of March wind from one end of the strand to the other.

When he had finished, he walked back and forth on the strand vauntingly, and challenged the men of Erin to do the like of those feats.

Next day, Fin sent out two hundred men. Dealv Dura was down on the strand before them, and not a man of the two hundred returned.

Day after day, two hundred went out, and all fell before Dealv Dura. A report ran now through all Erin that Fin’s troops were perishing daily from one man; and this report reached at last the castle of the King of Ulster. The king had one son, and he only thirteen years of age. This son, who was the fairest and shapeliest youth in Erin, said to his father, “Let me go to help Fin MacCool and his men.”

“You are not old enough, nor strong enough, my son; your bones are too soft.”

When the youth insisted, his father confined him, and set twelve youths, his own foster-brothers, to guard him, lest he might escape to Ventry Strand.

The king’s son was enraged at being confined, and said to his foster-brothers, “It is through valor and daring that my father gained glory in his young years; and why should I not win a name as well as he? Help me, and I will be a friend to you forever.”

He talked and persuaded, till they agreed to go with him to Fin MacCool. They took arms then, hurried across Erin, and, when they came to Ventry, Dealv Dura was on the strand reviling the Fenians.

“O Fenians of Erin,” said Oisin, “many have fallen by Dealv Dura; and I would rather die in combat against him, than see the ruin he brings every day!”

A great cry was raised by all at these words.

Now the son of the King of Ulster stood before Fin, and saluted him.

“Who are you?” asked Fin.

“I am Goll, son of the King of Ulster, and these twelve are my foster-brothers. We have come to give you what assistance we can.”

“My welcome to you,” said Fin.

The reviling of Dealv Dura was heard now again.

“Who is that?” asked the king’s son from Ulster.

“An enemy asking for two hundred warriors of mine to meet him,” said Fin.

Here the twelve foster-brothers went to the strand, unknown to the king’s son.

“You are not a man,” said Conan Maol, “and none of these twelve could face any warrior.”

“I have never seen the Fenians till this day,” said the king’s son, “still I know that you are Conan Maol, who never speaks well of any man; but you will see that I am not in dread of Dealv Dura, or any champion on earth. I will go down now, and meet the warrior single-handed.”

Fin and the Fenians stopped the young hero, and detained him, and talked to him. Then, Conan began again, and said, “In six days that champion has slain twelve hundred men; and there was not a man of the twelve hundred who could not have killed twelve hundred like you every day.”

These words enraged the king’s son. He sprang up, and then heard the shouting of Dealv Dura on the strand. “What does he want now?” asked the king’s son.

“More men for combat,” said Conan. “He has just slain your twelve body-guards.”

With that the king’s son seized his weapons, and no man could stop or delay him. He rushed to the strand, and went toward Dealv Dura. When the champion saw the youth coming, he sneered, and the hosts of the High King sent up a roar of laughter; for they thought Fin’s men were all killed, since he had sent a stripling to meet Dealv Dura. The courage of the boy was all the greater from the derision; and he rushed on Dealv Dura, who got many wounds from the youth before he knew it.

They fought a sharp, bloody combat; and no matter how the champion, Dealv Dura, used his strength, swiftness, and skill, he was met by the king’s son: and if the world could be searched, from its eastern edge to its western border, no braver battle would be found than was that one.

The two fought through the day, the hosts of the Great World and the Fenians cheering and urging them on. Toward evening their shields were hacked to pieces, and their weapons all shivered, but they did not stop the battle; they grappled and caught each other, and fought so that the sand on the beach was boiling like water beneath them. They wrestled that way, seeing nothing in the world but each other, till the tide of the sea went over them, and drowned the two there before the eyes of the Fenians and the hosts of the High King.

A great cry of wailing and sorrow was raised on both sides, when the water closed over the champions. Next morning, after the tide-ebb, the two bodies were found stiff and cold, each one in the grasp of the other; but Dealv Dura was under the king’s son, so it was known that the youth was a better man than the other.

The king’s son was buried with great honor by the Fenians; and never before did they mourn for a hero as on that day.

“Who will command the battle this time?” asked Fin, on the following morning.

“I and my son Oscar,” said Oisin.

They went to the strand with two hundred men; and against them came the King of France with his forces. The two sides fought with such venom that at midday there was no one alive on either side but Oscar, Oisin, and the King of France. The king and Oisin were fighting at the eastern end of Ventry; and the king gave such a blow that he knocked a groan from Oisin. Oscar, who was at the western end of the strand then,—Oscar, of noble deeds, the man with a heart that never knew fear, and a foot that never stepped back before many or few,—rushed to see who had injured his father; and the noise that he made was like the noise of fifty horses while racing.

The king looked toward the point where the thundering sound was, and saw Oscar coming. He knew then that unless he escaped he had not long to live; his beauty and bravery left him, and his terror was like that of a hundred horses at the sound of a thunderbolt. Lightness of mind and body came on him; he stretched himself, sprang up, flew through the air, and never stopped till he came down in Glean nan Allt,—a place to which, since that time, insane persons go, and every madman in Erin would go there in twenty four hours, if people would let him.

In the battle of the next day, the King of Norway was chief; and there was never such destruction of men in Erin before as on that day. This king had a venomous shield with red flames, and if it were put under the sea not one of its flames would stop blazing, and the king himself was not hotter from any of them. When he had the shield on his arm no man could come near him; and he went against the Fenians with only a sword. Not to use weapon had he come, but to let the poison of his shield fly among them. The balls of fire that he sent from the shield went through the bodies of men, so that each blazed up like a splinter of oak which had hung a whole year in the smoke of a chimney, and whoever touched the burning man, blazed up as well as he; and small was every evil that came into Erin before, when compared with that evil.

“Lift up your hands,” said Fin, “and give three shouts of blessing to the man who will put some delay on that foreigner.”

A smile came on the king’s face when he heard the shouts that Fin’s men were giving. It was then that the Chief of the Fenians of Ulster came near; and he had a venomous spear, the Crodearg. He looked at the King of Norway, and saw nothing of him without armor, save his mouth, and that open wide in laughter at the Fenians. He made a cast of his venomous spear, which entered the king’s mouth, and went out through his neck. The shield fell, and its blazing was quenched with the life of its master. The chief cut the head off the king, and made boast of the deed; and his help was the best that the Fenians received from any man of their own men. Many were the deeds of that day; and but few of the forces of the High King went back to their ships in the evening.

On the following day, the foreigners came in thousands; for the High King had resolved to put an end to the struggle. Conan Maol, who never spoke well of any man, had a power which he knew not himself, and which no one in Erin knew except Fin. When Conan looked through his fingers at any man, that man fell dead the next instant.

Fin never told Conan of this, and never told any one; for he knew that Conan would kill all the Fenians when he got vexed if he knew his own power. When the foreigners landed, Fin sent a party of men with Conan to a suitable place, so that when the enemy were attacking, these men would look with Conan through their fingers at the enemy, and pray for assistance against them.

When Conan and his men looked through their fingers, the enemy fell dead in great numbers, and no one knew that it was Conan’s look alone, without prayers or assistance from others, that slew them.

Conan and his company stood there all day, looking through their fingers and praying, whenever a new face made its way from the harbor.