Chapter IV: Front Matter (4)

“It is this,” said Conan. “You are to bring out your bony horse and place upon its back fourteen of your own nobles. You are to bring them to Erin, so some one else shall feel the pain of that journey.”

The Fenians roared with laughter. They were glad that Conan had not yielded to his desire for gain, but had made a good award.

“And I wish to add the sentence, that Avarta himself shall cling to the animal’s tail,” said the young Fenian who had made the trip in that manner. “Only in that way can he appreciate the pain I bore in coming.”

“The award is just,” declared Avarta. “Get on your ship. When you arrive in Erin we shall be with you.”

So the Fenians got on their ship and went back as rapidly as sails and oars could take them. When they landed in Erin the ship disappeared, but where it had been, the waves parted and the great horse, with fourteen nobles on its back and the Worthless Servant clinging to its tail, came out on the shore.

“I have carried out the award,” said Avarta.

“You have,” said Finn. “Now, I pray you, let your men dismount that all of you may partake of our hospitality.”

There was no answer. Where the horse and men had stood there was nothing. They had disappeared as a mist taken up by the sun.

DERMOT AND GRAINNE

It was some time after the pursuit of the Worthless Servant that the events of this story took place. Finn, knowing that sooner or later his forces would have to meet those of the High King of the World, spent most of his time building up the numbers of his Fenians, so that he would have a force sufficient when the time came for the great struggle.

This angered Cormack, High King of Tara, to whom Finn owed allegiance. Cormack had been very jealous of the power of the Fenians and of the hold Finn had upon them. Sometimes these Fenians did make demands on the people of the country, and some of these demands were unreasonable. You see, Finn was getting to be quite an old man. While his courage and his wisdom were as great as of old, he was not with his men as constantly as he had been in his earlier years. Probably they took advantage of this fact and did things he would not have allowed had he known of them.

Cormack made up his mind that the overbearing conduct of some of the Fenians was caused by the fact that Finn had no respect for the authority of the High King. Then, when Finn began to bend every effort to increase the fighting strength of the Fenians, Cormack got the idea that his leader was about to take the kingdom away from him.

The quarrel began to grow serious. Some of the friends of both men, however, urged that a stronger alliance be formed between the two to make a serious break impossible. This was to be accomplished by having Finn marry Grainne, the daughter of Cormack.

The two men finally agreed that this wedding should take place, in spite of the fact that Finn had a grandson older than the girl who was to be his wife. Cormack was willing because he really feared Finn’s power if used against him. Finn was willing because he knew of the struggle which was coming, and he wanted no quarrels at home to interfere with his preparations.

Now, Grainne had never seen this mighty leader. She knew him only from the stories of his many deeds of valor. To have such a noted hero for a husband seemed quite the proper thing, especially when she was told that the marriage was arranged for the good of Erin. She told her father that she was willing to have Finn for a husband.

So, the Fenian chief, attended by his son, Ossian, his grandson, Oscar, his friend, Dermot, and a guard of honor, went to the hall at Tara for the wedding celebration. A great feast for the men of both parties was held in the banquet hall. During the meal Cormack and Finn discussed their differences and plans for a better understanding.

Naturally the young girl was anxious to have a look at the man who was to be her husband. While the feast was in progress she came to the door of the hall with her maid, who was to point out Finn to her mistress. The maid did so. Grainne was amazed.

“Surely not that old man!” she exclaimed.

The maid told her that there could be no mistake. Then she named over all the rest of the party in turn. Grainne made up her mind that she would not go on with the ceremony.

“My father did not tell me that he was mating me with a man old enough to be my grandfather,” she said. “If he had, I should never have consented. What can that old man want with a wife?”

“The marriage is to bind the Fenians more closely to the throne,” said the maid.

“That could be done in other ways,” replied Grainne. “If Finn sought me for a wife for his son, I would be willing to go on with the match.”

The maid explained that Ossian already had a wife and could not take another.

“Well, the grandson would be still better,” insisted Grainne. “But I will never marry that old man; never, never, never!”

“Then it would be best for you to so inform your father immediately,” advised the maid. “Even now your refusal will cause more bitter feeling.”

“No,” said Grainne. “My father would insist upon the match. If I get out of this marriage it will have to be by my own efforts.”

Then the girl went to her rooms in the palace and prepared a jug of wine, putting in a drug which would bring a heavy sleep to all who tasted of it. This she gave to the maid, telling her to go to the hall and give a sip from the bride’s cup to everyone except Oscar and Dermot. To these she was to refuse it.

The maid followed her instructions. All to whom it was offered took a sip of the drugged liquor. When they were asleep Grainne, dressed in her most beautiful robes, entered the hall and went straight to Oscar and Dermot. She asked Oscar to marry her and take her away. Oscar indignantly refused to be false to the man who was both his chief and his grandfather.

But now Grainne had looked upon the Love Spot. She forgot all about Oscar in her new love for this young Fenian hero. She now pled with Dermot to marry her and take her away.

Dermot threw off her arms from around his neck.

“Think you that I would cast aside my honor and lose my place with the Fenians?” he cried. “Never shall it be said that Dermot was false to a friend! Death would be better than that!”

But Grainne was not to be denied. She forgot everything but her love for this man. She used a trick to compel Dermot to take her, the same ruse that Teasa had used to force Finn to take her to Erin.

“If you will not have me for your wife, I put you under bonds to save me from this marriage, which is distasteful to me. I bind you, by your Fenian oath, to take me away and guard me from all pursuers until I release you.”

Poor Dermot was sorely puzzled. Whichever course he took he must lose his honor. He must either break his vow to give protection to a woman whenever it was asked, or he must be disloyal to Finn.

“What can I do?” he asked Oscar.

“To give you advice is the thing I would gladly refuse,” answered Oscar. “Since you ask it, I must tell you that your honor binds you to do as she asks.”

So Dermot and Grainne went out through the little gate in the palace wall and fled into the forest, accompanied only by Dermot’s faithful hound.

II.

When the men awoke from their drugged sleep, and Oscar told Finn and Cormack what had happened, both men were exceedingly angry. They immediately ordered a pursuit of the fugitives. For days Finn and his men followed the trail of the two. While they often came upon campfires that still smouldered, showing where the pursued pair had stopped, they never were able to catch up with them. Dermot was caring for Grainne with what food he could procure in the forest. He was kind to her, but steadily resisted all her efforts to get him to marry her. At each camping place he left a sign that Finn would recognize as a pledge that he was not fleeing of his own free will, but because the maiden had put him under bonds.

This treatment, however, did not please Grainne. All her pleading for his love met with no response. At last she appealed to a Druid for help. These Druids had great magical power, if they could be prevailed upon to use them. Grainne did not tell him who she was. She played a part calculated to excite the pity of the magician.

“I am in deep trouble,” she told him. “I fear that only you can be of assistance to me. I can tell by the kindness of your face that you are always willing to help a maiden in distress.”

The Druid was flattered by this artful speech.

“What can I do for you, O maiden?” he asked.

“I have just been married, and my husband is falling in love with another maiden,” lied Grainne. “I would have you do something to make me more beautiful, so that my husband will love me again.”

“I could not make you more beautiful than you are already,” said the Druid. He was something of a flatterer himself.

“Then give me something to kill me,” wailed Grainne. “I cannot live without my husband’s love.” At this point she burst into a violent sobbing. The heart of the Druid was touched by her pretended grief.

“But if I cannot make you more beautiful, there is something else I can do for you,” he said.

“What is that?” asked Grainne, drying her eyes.

“I can give you a liquid to pour into the drink of your husband. As long as the effect lasts, he will love you better than anything else in the world.”

“Give it to me at once,” said Grainne. “If I can but win back his love, I will keep his heart forever.”

So the Druid gave her the love charm, and Grainne administered it to Dermot in his food. Immediately he became wildly in love with her and yielded to her pleadings to marry her at once.

Finn’s pursuit had daily become less insistent. He had never been strongly in favor of marrying Grainne, and his anger against Dermot became less keen. When he heard that the two were married he abandoned the pursuit entirely. He sent word to Dermot that if he kept out of his way he would no longer seek to punish him, but that he had been expelled from the Fenians for disloyalty to his leader.

And so it happened that Finn lost his best friend and his companion in his adventures. The Fenians, also, lost their best fighter. This is the reason why, in the next story, which tells of the greatest battle the army ever engaged in, Dermot was not there to help.

THE BATTLE OF VENTRY STRAND

The years sped by with no sign of the attack by the High King of the World. One less wise than Finn would have decided that Donn had given up his revenge. But Finn was not fooled. He knew that the attack would come, and that each year of delay meant a greater force against him. He used the time to build up a stronger defense.

He placed a guard on a hill overlooking every harbor of Erin. These men were supposed never to leave their posts without placing some one to watch in their stead. At the important harbors, the watch was strictly kept, year after year. But the guards of the small and unimportant ports grew careless and spent much of their time asleep or in the nearby villages.

So it happened that when the great fleet finally came, there was no one to give warning. The harbor of Ventry Strand was the one picked out by Donn for his landing. He chose this harbor because it was small and unimportant. He was guided by a traitor who had been expelled from the ranks of the Fenians, a man who knew the placing of the forces and who knew that the guards of the small harbors like Ventry Strand had become very careless.

When the guard on the hill awoke he was horrified to see the water black with ships, and hundreds of men landing on the shore. He could see what a tremendous force the High King had gathered. There were the banners of the Kings of France, of Spain, of Norway, of Denmark, and many others he did not recognize.

The guard was terrified at the results of his neglect of duty. He was afraid to face Finn and admit that he had not been faithful to his charge. He did the next best thing. He sent a messenger to his chief telling him of the arrival of the enemy. Then he went down to meet the hosts alone, and died fighting bravely as was the duty of a Fenian.

But this guard was not the only one to show his bravery that day. All through history we find records of small bodies of devoted men who held back great armies while their comrades prepared for the fight. The battle of Ventry Strand was no exception. This time, however, it was not men, but boys who sacrificed themselves to hold back the enemy until the Fenians could arrive.

In many of our stories you have read of the requirements of strength necessary to become a Fenian. No doubt you have wondered if there was not some training school for boys who would be eligible, if they could pass the test. There was such a training. It was called the Boys’ Corps. All boys could join this group when old enough to begin their training. They remained in it until they were able to join the Fenians or had failed to pass the entrance test. Here they began their training about the age of twelve, though some of the great heroes enrolled and became leaders at a much younger age. Finn, you remember, defeated the giant Midna at the age of ten, but he had proved himself a leader of the Boys’ Corps long before that.

These groups had teachers who instructed their pupils in the Twelve Books of Poetry, and gave them training in the use of the weapons of the chase and of warfare. The boys did not live at home, but camped with the others of the group and lived on what they could kill, just as did the Fenians. Their training was much the same as that described in stories of the Spartan boys in Greece.

One of these training groups was in the hills of Ventry when the forces of Donn were landing. Their leader, a boy of sixteen, who had proven himself the most expert in his training, saw the situation and thus addressed his companions:

“Behold, an enemy has landed upon the shores of Erin, and there is no one to stay them. It will take Finn and his men all day to reach here. In the meantime, there are two courses open to us. We can seek safety in the hills and let the foreigner pillage our country, or we can go down and die fighting in its defense. It is for you to choose. If we hide we may grow up to become Fenians. But can we look Finn in the face and tell him that we proved our worth by hiding?“

He drew a line on the ground and stepped over it.

“I, for one, prefer to show these men what sort of boys grow up to be the men of Erin. Those who will follow me to the strand to die bravely fighting for our country, will step across the line.”

With a shout every boy jumped over the line to the side of their leader. Then, with shields in front and weapons ready, the Boys’ Corps marched down to meet the invaders.

“Ho! Ho!” laughed one of the soldiers. “Have the men of Erin hidden in their holes and sent the children to greet us?”

“Better gain what glory you can before the men of Erin arrive to cut short your boasting,” cried the boy leader, dashing at the man who had mocked them.

Soon the whole boy force was engaged in the unequal struggle against an overwhelming number of men hardened to battle. But though they were boys and knew that they must die in the end, there was no one but showed the fighting blood of his fathers. One after another they went down, but all that day they held the forces of the High King on the shore. When the Fenians arrived that evening the enemy was still on his ships and at the water’s edge. But where were the heroic boys? Not one was left. Only the peasants, who had watched the fight from the hillsides, could tell the story of that noble stand.

When Finn came up and saw the forces against him, he realized that the battle would be long and hard. His only hope was to use small bodies of his fighters against the foe, and trust to the bravery of his men to wear down the forces of the enemy.

“Shall we attack in force and drive them into the sea?” asked Gaul. “Every Fenian should be able to account for ten of the enemy.”

“They will have to do more than that,” declared Finn. “We must send out two hundred of our men each day and let them make what headway they can. Only in that way can we reduce their number enough to make possible their defeat. The Fenians need room to fight and must have strong odds against them to make them do their best. Who will lead the first two hundred?”

“I will lead them,” cried Gaul.

“I, too, will go,” declared Ossian.

“I will be in the first two hundred,” said Oscar.

“So be it,” said Finn. “May you spread terror into the hearts of the enemy.”

Next morning the two hundred charged into the foe. By nightfall the forces of the High King were cut to pieces. But of the Fenians there was left but Gaul, Ossian and Oscar. Gaul was so badly wounded that he had to be carried back to the camp.

More men landed from the ships and rallied around three men, swordsmiths of the High King, who had led the forces that day, and who had stood against the Fenian heroes until night closed the battle.

The next day Ossian and Oscar led out two hundred fresh men from the Fenian army. They were met by the three smiths and a great force from the army of the High King. All day the battle continued. Each Fenian did great deeds of valor and proved worthy of his name. Toward the close of the day but three smiths and Ossian and Oscar were left to carry on the battle. Oscar, the best swordsman of the Fenians, was holding two of the opposing champions. The third was pressing hard against his father and forcing him backward.

Finn was greatly alarmed for the safety of his son. Of course, under their rules of warfare, no more men could come into the battle after it had started. Finn did the only thing left for him to do. He sent his poet, Fergus, to stand behind Ossian and to sing to him of the great deeds he had done in the past. This encouragement was what Ossian needed. A great strength rose up within him. He forced back his opponent and took his head. Oscar, at the same time, conquered the two, who stood against him.

The victory that day rested with the Fenians. But it was dearly bought. At the end of his combat Oscar sank to the ground, fainting from his many wounds. His father had to carry him back to the camp of the Fenians. It was many months before he was strong enough to again take part in the fighting.

II.

Not all the brave fighters in the battle of Ventry Strand were on the Fenian side. Other men could face great odds, too. The three smiths, who had fallen that day, had a brother still on the ship of the High King. When this man saw the result of the fight, he let out a mighty shout of grief and rage. He went straight to the High King.

“Tomorrow I am going to meet the two hundred Fenians,” he said. “What is more, I am going alone. If any of our men try to interfere with me, I shall kill them.”

The High King knew that this man was the greatest champion on his side. He was willing to have him go out and strike terror into the hearts of the Fenians. He gave orders that he should be the only one to land next day.

For the next day’s battle Finn had no great leader for his men. One young Fenian, anxious to gain glory for himself, offered to lead the two hundred. Finn let him go. All day long the two hundred Fenians faced this one champion. By night the foreigner was alone on the field. A shout of victory went up from the ships of the High King. The Fenians were far from joyous to see such valor on the side of the enemy.

The next day this champion again defeated the two hundred Fenians, and for the four days following, the combats ended the same. Finn was getting desperate. He could not go out and meet the man himself, because if he were killed or badly wounded, his men would be leaderless and the forces of the High King would gain the victory.

How he wished for Dermot in this hour of need! The splendid example of this great hero would have done the Fenians more good than a thousand soldiers. Ossian and Oscar, too badly wounded to fight, pled with Finn to relent and send for his one-time champion and dearest friend. But Finn’s pride would not permit him to do this. The thought that Dermot had yielded to a woman’s plea to be false to his chief, cut him to the heart.

All great men have their moments of weakness. The one dark spot on the record of Finn is his treatment of Dermot. One point we find in his favor. It is the fact that he did not send for Dermot during the battle. If he could not forgive him because he felt the justice of his friend’s position, he would not say so because he needed his sword.

In this hour of need another hero arrived on the Fenian side. The son of the King of Ulster heard of this battle and longed to take part in it. Though little more than a boy he went to his father and asked his permission. His father met this request with an angry reply.

“What nonsense!” he exclaimed. “You are only a boy and not fit to go into battle.”

The king not only forbade his going, but he set over him a guard of his twelve foster-brothers to see that he did not go without permission. But the boy was not to be denied. He talked so earnestly with his brothers that he fired them with a desire to take part in the great battle. In the end all thirteen slipped away to the camp of Finn.

The boy went before the chief of the Fenians. “I am the son of the King of Ulster,” he said. “It is my wish to meet this champion, who is bringing fear into the hearts of the Fenians.”

“Go home, boy,” said Conan. “This man has slain heroes who could account for a thousand like you.”

The boy looked at him in indignation. “I do not know the Fenians,” he said. “But I do know that you must be Conan, who speaks good of no man. If you think a boy should not face this champion, why are you here in camp? If I cannot kill this man, I can at least show the foreigners that the boys of Erin have not the cowardice of a Conan!”

Conan had no more to say after that. He hated to hear the truth from the lips of a boy. Finn, because he remembered the fire of his own youth, looked with favor upon the brave lad and consented to his meeting the champion. While they talked a mighty shout came from the shore.

“What is that?” asked the boy.

“That is the champion calling for men to meet him,” answered Conan. “He has just finished the last of your bodyguard.”

“He shall not have to wait long,” said the boy.

A great shout of laughter from the enemy greeted the approach of the new fighter. The champion joined in the jeers.

“Let Finn acknowledge his defeat if he has no more men to send out,” he cried. “I do not fight with boys.”

“If you do not fight, it will be your last battle,” declared the son of the king.

He closed in battle. Before the smith realized that it was a real contest, he had received several small wounds. He began to fight in earnest. But he had met his match at last. They fought until their shields were torn to shreds, and their swords were broken off at the hilts. Then they threw away the weapons and struggled with their bare hands. Over the shore they fought, and finally out into the sea, where they sank from sight.

The men of both sides waited anxiously to see which one would come up. But neither appeared that night. Next morning the two bodies, still locked in a tight embrace, were washed upon the sands. The body of the king’s son was on top, his hands still clasping the throat of his opponent, proving that he had won the fight.

III.

The great battle went on for a year and a day. Sometimes there were single combats, sometimes many men were engaged, but neither side could gain a complete victory. When the year was up the High King resolved to challenge Finn to single combat. He saw that he was losing more men then the Fenians, and that Finn’s plan of campaign would win for him in the end.

If he could kill Finn, all the advantage would be on his side. Also, the death of the Fenian chief would make complete his revenge for the loss of his daughter. Donn was not showing such wonderful bravery in offering to meet the Fenian chief. Finn was an old man, without the great strength of his youth. Donn reasoned that he could fight him day after day until Finn was vanquished through weakness. He did not fear for himself. He was protected by enchantment and could not be killed except with one sword. That weapon was locked up in his castle at home, guarded by his father.

Finn knew that he could not kill the High King without this sword. Yet he accepted the challenge. He had lost so many of his men that he was sick at heart. He welcomed the idea of getting into the fight himself. Even if he were killed, he could still set an example of his unflinching courage. Gaul, Ossian and Oscar were now almost recovered. Even were he killed, he was sure Gaul would carry on the fight.

On the night before the battle between the two leaders, an enchanter from the side of the High King entered the Fenian camp and went straight to Finn.

“I have left the camp of the High King because he has been unjust to me,” said the enchanter. “I am here to help you in your fight against him.”

Finn thanked him and asked him what he could do.

“Perhaps you do not know that you can only kill him with one sword,” said the man.

“I do know it,” answered Finn.

“Stand against him tomorrow, and by night you shall have the sword. I shall go to Donn’s father and tell him that his son has sent me for his sword to use in the fight against you. His father will give it to me without question.”

“Bring me the weapon and I shall reward you,” said Finn.

The two leaders met the next day in combat. The High King had no fear and fought recklessly. Finn knew that he must continue the battle until the next day, so he fought with great care and was content with defending himself from the attacks of Donn. This pleased the High King very much. He thought that Finn had lost his strength. He went to his ship that night sure that the next day would bring with it the defeat of the Fenian chief.

But he had a surprise in store for him. The next morning when he came out to the combat he found Finn coming toward him. He turned pale when he recognized the weapon in the hands of his opponent. Fear gripped his heart and destroyed his sense of honor. He tried to win by surprise. Before the signal for combat was given, he struck a mighty blow at Finn.

But for the heroism of one of the Fenians he would have succeeded. This young man rushed in and received the blow intended for his chief.

When Finn saw the death of his man as a result of treachery, a surge of rage gave him all the strength of his youth. He raised the weapon the enchanter had brought, and with one blow finished his combat with Donn. Then, rallying his entire force with his old battle cry, he set upon the leaderless hosts.

That day’s battle was the fiercest of all. When night came there was not a man of the invading force left alive. But there were no Fenians left to give battle had there been any more to meet. Everyone of the brave defenders, Finn included, were dead or suffering from severe wounds.

So ended the battle of Ventry Strand. Erin was saved from the invaders, but at a fearful cost. The story reminds one of the Trojan War, of which most of us have read. In that great contest we read of the same desperate heroism. Both were started because of a woman, and both continued until all the fighters on one side were completely destroyed.

THE DEATH OF DERMOT

For sixteen years after the flight of Grainne and Dermot, the couple lived in their home in the forest. Dermot was not unhappy, now that his remorse for proving disloyal to Finn had grown less keen. He divided his time between hunting in the forest and the training of his children. He never mentioned his former chief or his comrades.

Grainne was not so easily satisfied. She proved to be the kind of woman who is always wishing for something she cannot have. When she was about to be married to Finn, she wanted Dermot. Then, when she had succeeded in getting Dermot to marry her, she decided that she had been foolish to run away from Finn. While he was pursuing them, Grainne had been perfectly happy. She had not wished to be caught, but it pleased her vanity to be running away with one great hero and having another trying to capture her.

When Finn gave up the chase and she was allowed to have the man she had chosen, she was no longer satisfied. She decided that Finn must come and visit them. The reason she gave Dermot for this wish was, that their daughter could never pick a husband if she was never to see any of the heroes of the country. What she really desired was to have Finn come and tell her that he envied Dermot his good fortune in getting such a fine wife, or to have him show, in some way, that he was sorry he could not marry her.

Dermot finally yielded to her arguments and sent the invitation to Finn. At first the Fenian leader refused to consider such a visit. The invitation reminded him of what he called the treachery of the man who had been his friend. But Ossian and Oscar reasoned with him and urged him to make the visit as a sign of forgiveness. They told him that it did not look well for a mighty leader to hold a grudge for so long. They insisted that it was just his pride which kept him away, and that he really wanted to see Dermot.

Finn finally consented. He took Oscar and Ossian with him and went to the home in the forest.

Their reception was a cordial one. Dermot was like a boy in his pleasure at meeting his former chief and his old friends. As for Finn, he seemed to forget his injured pride in the joy of being once more on good terms with Dermot. For several days it was a happy party. Through the day they hunted together; in the evenings they feasted and told stories of the hard combats of the past. Finn even went so far as to admit that the need of Dermot’s sword very nearly caused the defeat of the Fenians in the Battle of Ventry Strand. It seemed as if the past was all forgotten, and that Dermot would once more become a member of the Fenian band.

But Grainne never was content. Once more she caused trouble between the two men. She soon proved that it was for neither her husband nor her daughter that she desired the visit of Finn. When he had come, he had greeted her cordially, and then had seemed to forget all about her. This hurt her pride. She began to make herself very agreeable to him and to seek him out at every opportunity. She tried to do little things for him which would bring her to his notice.

Now, Grainne could be very charming when she tried, and she was still a very beautiful woman. Finn began to take an interest in her. Then, Grainne, hoping to get some statement of regret from him, called up the circumstances of that flight, sixteen years before.

Finn’s anger, which had died almost to ashes, burst into a flame again. He no longer took pleasure in the company of Dermot. Even when he tried to look pleasantly at his host, the fire in his eyes could not be hidden. Ossian saw the change and urged that the visit be brought to a close. Finn put him off angrily and refused to leave.

Grainne was pleased with the results of her scheme. It was not that she did not still love her husband. You see, she knew that Dermot could not be wounded by Finn. She thought there was no danger, and it was pleasing to her vanity to know that once again two fine men were interested in her.

One night the men were awakened by the continued baying of the hounds. This could only mean that some large animals were prowling around. So, early next morning, they went out upon a hunt. Oscar and Ossian took one path and Finn and Dermot the other. The latter had not gone far when they met an excited peasant, who informed them that a terrible wild boar was roaming about, spreading death and destruction in its path.

Dermot paused. He knew that hunting the wild boar was forbidden to him. The proper thing for him to do was to go back, and he knew it. Finn watched him anxiously.

“You had better go back, Dermot,” he said. “This is hardly a safe pastime for you.”

Dermot flushed with anger. “It is plain that you desire my death, Finn MacCool,” he said, “or you would not say such a thing to me. You know full well that I cannot turn back when you question my bravery.”

Finn said no more. He felt sure that Dermot would continue the hunt in spite of the warnings of his foster-father. They had gone but a few yards when a great boar burst out of the forest and made toward them. Dermot hurled his spear. It glanced off the thick skull. He drew his sword, but before he could use it, the boar knocked him down and tore him cruelly with his tusks. Even as he fell, Dermot crushed the skull of the beast with the hilt of his sword.

Finn had made no move to assist in the killing of the boar. Now he came over and looked at Dermot. The wounded man implored him to do something for him.

“I am sorry to see you this way, Dermot,” he said. “But I can never forget that you proved untrue to me sixteen years ago. There is nothing I can do for you.”

“There is,” answered Dermot. “You can restore me to health by giving me a drink from your two hands.”

“There is no well,” said Finn, making excuses.

“There is one just a few paces behind you,” said Dermot.

Finn made no move to go. His anger held him back.

“Can’t you remember how you were bound and suffering in the dungeon of the White Nation? I did not hesitate to go through every trial to rescue you. Will you refuse me now? For the sake of what I have done for you, give me a drink that will heal me.”

Finn was filled with remorse. He went to the well and started back with his cupped hands full of water. But as he walked he saw before him a picture of that hall in Tara. Again he felt the disgrace of having his trusted friend prove disloyal to him. The water trickled through his fingers, and he came back with nothing.

By that time Oscar and Ossian had come up and had knelt beside the wounded man. Dermot looked up at Finn with a pleading look in his eyes.

“I could not bring it,” said Finn. “It is too far to carry it. The water all runs away.”

“You can bring it if you wish,” insisted Dermot. “I know you are angry because I took Grainne away that night. But Oscar will tell you that it was much against my will. She put me under bonds, and I had to go, just as you had to bring Teasa from the land of Avarta. Your men did not turn against you because you brought trouble to Erin by that act. For the sake of our old friendship, get me the drink before it is too late!”

Once more a flood of pity and remorse came over Finn. He recognized the justice of Dermot’s plea. Again he hurried to the well and filled his hands. But when he started back to the dying man he seemed to see Grainne in front of him. She seemed to be smiling at him and beckoning to him. Once more the water ran out through his fingers, and he came back with his hands empty.

When he approached this time, Dermot was too weak to speak. Only his eyes pled for the water. Oscar could not stand it any longer. He sprang to his feet and drew his sword.

“Though you are my chief, I will not stand by and see you do this great wrong!” he cried. “You must get the water or one of us will never leave this forest alive!”

Oscar’s just anger brought Finn to his senses. He put all thoughts of pride and the woman from his mind. He hurriedly filled his hands and hastened back to Dermot’s side. He was too late. The mighty hero was dead.

They made preparations to take away the body for burial. But their help was not needed. The god, Angus, appeared and with him four shining heroes, bearing a golden bier. On this they placed the body of Dermot and walked majestically away.

“I cannot give him back his life,” said Angus. “But I can take his body with me, and I can have his soul to keep me company.”

Then all vanished in a blaze of light. Finn, Oscar and Ossian were left alone in the forest.

THE BATTLE OF GOWRA

A few years after the death of Dermot the old trouble between the High King of Tara and the Fenians arose again. Cormack was dead, but his son was even more bitter against the army. He made up his mind that he would destroy the forces entirely.

The new ruler realized that he could never raise a sufficient force to meet the Fenians in battle. He determined upon a less dangerous, though less honorable, method. He endeavored to promote a quarrel between two factions, so that the groups would destroy themselves. The High King, you see, was a man of wisdom.

This plan was an easy one to accomplish. You have not forgotten that Gaul of Morna had held the leadership of the Fenians for the ten years between the death of Cool and the arrival of Finn. He had been loyal to Finn all through the later years, but beneath his loyalty ran a thin current of envy. He was the older man of the two. It was easy to tell him that, because of his age, he should be chief. Envy is a poison that works silently, but it works harder when it is thought about. The High King gradually convinced Gaul that it would be to his interest to quarrel with Finn and take part of the army with him.

Finn’s treatment of Dermot shows us that he became more revengeful in his later years. He did not take part in so many adventures requiring him to use his strength, so he had more time to think over what people had done to him. He never forgot that it was Gaul who had given his father his mortal wound. As long as Gaul was his faithful follower, he did not hold this fact against him. But when Gaul began to grow bitter in his dealings with his chief, Finn made the quarreling easy by recalling this fight. Both men were willing to come to blows.

The High King went with Gaul through the ranks of the Fenians and, by promises and bribes, won over a large number. The fact that the High King was on the side of Gaul made it appear to these men that those who were disloyal to Finn would probably be on the winning side. In the end, the two forces were about equal. Then the High King and Gaul moved to attack the forces of Finn.

Finn was sick at heart at the thought that his splendid army was to be cut to pieces by the treacherous plot of the High King. He would gladly have given up his command if that act would have saved the men from fighting among themselves. His knowledge, however, told him that it was the plan of the High King to get the two groups to so weaken themselves that he could gather a force large enough to defeat those left. Finn knew what Gaul did not understand, that he was to be used and later put out of the way.

The forces of Gaul met those of Finn at Gowra, just at evening. In those days no one thought of fighting at night. The two forces built their camps and waited for morning light to give the signal for the combat.

All through the early hours of the night Finn paced his camp and tried to make a plan which would stop the struggle of the next day. If the High King had not been on the side of Gaul, he felt that the trouble would never have occurred. At midnight he left his own camp and went, alone, to the quarters of Gaul and the High King.

These two men were greatly alarmed to wake and find Finn beside them. Both sprang to their feet and seized their weapons. They thought that Finn meant to do away with them by treachery.

“Have no fear,” said Finn. “I have come by myself, and my purpose is to talk, not fight. I have come to see if there is not some way in which we can stop the slaughter of the men of Erin.”

Both men were silent. Finally Gaul spoke, “There is one way,” he said. “You may give up the leadership and tell your men to obey me.”

Finn turned to the High King. “If that will stop the struggle, then I will accept the terms.”

The crafty High King was not pleased. A peace which would leave the Fenians as strong as ever was the last thing he wanted. He pretended to doubt Finn’s word.

“It is but a trick,” he said to Gaul. “Finn would have us believe that he wants peace, so that he may attack us unawares. Tomorrow’s contest shall decide all things which are at stake.”

“Then I make one other proposition to you,” said Finn, addressing the High King. “I will meet you in single combat tomorrow morning. If you best me, you will have a clear field to take my men as your followers. If I prove the better fighter, Gaul and I will be left to decide the leadership.”

The High King had been whispering to some of his men near him. These went out into the darkness before he replied to the challenge.

“I refuse your challenge,” he said, with an attempt to cover his fear with haughtiness. “It would not be fitting that an army leader should meet his king in a single combat.”

“Then I can do no more,” declared Finn. “I must go back and leave the decision to the morrow.”

The High King laughed excitedly. “That you shall not do,” he said. “Our men have been awakened and are between you and your camp. Tonight they will settle your claims for leadership; tomorrow your men will fight without you.”

Finn looked at the forces, now awake and surrounding him. It was the basest kind of treachery. He turned to Gaul of Morna.

“Gaul, you took the vow to be honorable in your dealings. Are you willing that I shall face your army, when I came in peace as a messenger? Are you a party to this treachery?”

“I am not!” cried Gaul. “Never shall it be said that Gaul of Morna knew not how to treat a messenger of the foe. I shall conduct you through our forces, and woe to any man who raises a spear against you!”

“I thank you, Gaul,” said Finn.

Without even glancing at the High King, Finn followed Gaul out into the night. His guide escorted him to the edge of his own camp before turning to go back. Finn made a last appeal to him.

“It grieves me, Gaul, to see this battle take place. I know that the High King but uses you to cause the destruction of the Fenians. I pray you, give up the struggle and come back to us.”

Gaul was deeply moved. “I fear you are right,” he said. “But, right or wrong, I must go on. I have driven my game out into the open. I must capture it or lose the respect of my men.”

Then Gaul went back to his camp.

II.

With the first streaks of morning light, the great battle of Gowra began. The men fought as only Fenians could fight against one another. Finn threw himself into the struggle with reckless bravery, but the late afternoon found him still unwounded. Many a splendid hero went down, Gaul of Morna among them. The High King, however, did not allow the fight to lag when his leader was killed. He took charge of the forces himself.

Finn tried all day to get his monarch into a combat with him, but the High King was too shrewd. He kept clear of any of the stronger fighters of Finn’s forces. It was Oscar, wounded and tired, who finally cornered him and forced him to fight or show his cowardice.

Like a rat in a trap, the High King put up a desperate battle. He was fresh and strong, and so was almost a match for the wounded Oscar. The end came when both men sank to the ground at the same time. Before Finn could reach the side of his grandson, both men were dead.

Then Finn’s mighty heart broke. He looked about the field, where small groups of men still struggled desperately. He determined that the contest should stop. He blew a loud blast on his horn. The men stopped in surprise. Finn’s voice rang out over the field.

“Men of Erin,” he called. “Sad am I that I have lived to see the day when brother fights against brother, friend against friend. Let the fighting cease. Gaul and the High King are dead, and Finn will soon be with you no longer. I care not to live to think over this useless conflict. From now on the Fenians will live only in song and story. Go back to the chase and the pursuits of peace. I command you never to draw sword again unless it be to protect Erin from a foreign foe.”

Then Finn called his servant and bade him bring to him the drinking horn from his camp. This horn he had carried with him all through his later years. It held the magic water which would bring sleep and forgetfulness to any who drank from it. When the horn was brought he drained it to the last drop. Then he bade farewell to his men, took his weapons with him and went into a cave on the hillside to await the sleep that was already stealing over his limbs.

* * * * *

A thousand years rolled by. A new race of people took possession of Erin. Only from the lips of the poets and the bards could one hear of the mighty heroes. Some laugh and say the tales are not true. But the legend is still told among the Irish peasants that Finn still sleeps in his cave on the hill, and that if Ireland ever is invaded again, he will come out and gather his Fenians for battle.

THE END.

Transcriber’s Notes

“guesed” changed to “guessed” on Page 25 but he never guessed “again” changed to “against” on Page 26 thumb against the meat “freightened” changed to “frightened” on Page 26 eyes frightened him “posible” changed to “possible” on Page 31 feat be possible, ” added on Page 31 youth,” answered Conn. “McCool” changed to “MacCool” on Page 35 Thus Finn MacCool “warior” changed to “warrior” on Page 52 only a great warrior. “tuggling” changed to “tugging” on Page 61 tugging and straining “him” changed to “his” on Page 76 He cleared his way corrected placement of quote on Page 76 castle. “You are at “ added on Page 83 the king. “Finding ” added on Page 94 lord of that castle.” “made” changed to “make” on Page 138 make them do their

Added period to regularize headings on Pages 12, 97, 107, 116, 119, 123, 130, 140, 144, and 160.