Chapter X: The Death of Dermat (1)

Now when many years had passed, Grania said one day to Dermat--

"It is surely a thing unworthy of us, seeing the greatness of our household and our wealth, and the number of our folk, that we should live in a manner so much removed from the world. And in a special manner it is unbecoming that the two most illustrious men in Erin have never been in our house, namely, my father the king, and Finn the son of Cumal."

For indeed she had not seen her father since the night she had left Tara with Dermat, and her heart yearned for him.

"Wherefore say you this, Grania?" answered Dermat; "for though there is indeed peace between us, they are both none the less enemies of mine; and for this reason have I removed my dwelling far apart from them."

And Grania said, "Their enmity has surely softened with length of time: and now I would that you give them a feast: so shall we win back their friendship and love."

And in an evil hour Dermat consented.

For a full year were they preparing for that great feast, and when it was ready, messengers were sent to invite the king, with his house-folk, and Finn, with the chief men of the seven batallions of the Fena. So they came, with their attendants and followers, their horses and dogs; and they lived for a whole year in Rath-Grania, hunting and feasting.

It chanced one night, at the end of the year, long after all had gone to rest, that Dermat heard, through the silence of the night, the distant yelping of a hound; and he started up from his sleep. But Grania, being scared, started up also, and, throwing her arms round him, asked him what he had seen.

"I have heard the voice of a hound," answered Dermat; "and I marvel much to hear it at midnight."

"May all things guard thee from harm!" said Grania. "This is surely a trap laid for thee by the Dedannans, unknown to Angus of the Bruga: and now lie down on thy bed again."

Dermat lay down, but did not sleep, and again he heard the hound's voice. He started up, and this time was fain to go and look to the matter; but Grania caught him and kept him back a second time, saying that it was not meet for him to seek a hound whose voice he heard in the night.

A gentle slumber now fell on Dermat, and he slept through a good part of the night. But the yelping of the hound came a third time, and awakened him, so that he started up; and it being now broad day, he told Grania that he would go to seek the hound, and find out why he was abroad in the night.

And though Grania consented, she felt, she knew not why, ill at ease; and she said--

"Bring with you the Morallta, the sword of Mannanan Mac Lir, and the Ga-derg,[A] Angus's spear; for there may be danger."

But Dermat, regarding the matter lightly, and forced by fate to the worse choice, answered--

"How can danger arise from such a small affair? I will bring the Begallta and the Ga-boi;[CXXXIV.] and I will also bring my good hound Mac-an-coill, leading him by his chain."

So Dermat went forth, and he delayed not till he reached the summit of Ben-Gulban,[CXXXV.] where he found Finn; and Dermat, offering him no salute, asked him who it was that held the chase. Finn answered--

"Some of our men came out from Rath-Grania at midnight with their hounds; and one of the hounds coming across the track of a wild boar, both men and dogs have followed it up. I indeed would have held them back, but the men were eager, and left me here alone. For this is the track of the wild boar of Ben-Gulban, and they who follow him are bent on a vain and dangerous pursuit. Often has he been chased; and he has always escaped, after killing many men and dogs. Even now thou canst see in the distance that the Fena are flying before him; and he has slain several this morning. He is coming towards this hillock where we stand; and the sooner we get out of his way the better."

But Dermat said he would not leave the hillock through fear of any wild boar.

"It is not meet that thou shouldst tarry here," answered Finn. "Dost thou not know that thou art under gesa[12] never to hunt a boar?"

Dermat answered, "I know nothing of these gesa; wherefore were they placed on me?"

And Finn said, "I will tell thee of this matter, for well do I remember it. When thou wert taken to Bruga of the Boyne, to be fostered by Angus, the son of Angus's steward was fostered with thee, that he might be a companion and playmate to thee. Now the steward, being a man of the common sort, agreed to send each day to Bruga, food and drink for nine men, as a price for having his son fostered with thee--thy father, Donn, being one of the nobles of the Fena. And thy father was accordingly permitted to visit the house of Angus when it pleased him, with eight companions, and claim the food sent by the steward; and when he did not come, it was to be given to Angus's house-folk.

"It chanced on a certain day that I was at Allen of the broad hill-slopes, with the chief men of the seven battalions of the Fena. And Bran Beg O'Bucan brought to my mind, what indeed I had forgotten, that it was forbidden to me to sleep at Allen more than nine nights one after another, and that the next would be the tenth.

"Now this restriction had not been placed on any of the Fena save myself, and they all went into the hall except thy father and a few others. Then I asked where we should get entertainment for that night. And thy father, Donn, answered that he would give me entertainment at Bruga of the Boyne; where food and drink awaited himself and his companions whenever he visited Angus. Donn said, moreover, that he had not been to see his son for a year, and that we were sure to get a welcome.

"So Donn and I and the few that were with us went to the house of Angus, bringing our hounds; and Angus welcomed us. And thou and the steward's son were there, two children. After a while we could see that Angus loved thee, Dermat, very much, but that the house-folk loved the son of the steward; and thy father was filled with jealousy, that the people should show fondness for him and not for thee.

"After night had fallen, it chanced that our hounds quarrelled over some broken meat we had thrown to them, and began to fight in the court; and the women and lesser people fled from them hither and thither. The son of the steward happened to run between thy father's knees, who, calling now to mind how the people favoured him more than thee, gave him a sudden strong squeeze with his knees, and killed him on the spot. And, without being seen by any one, he threw him under the feet of the hounds.

"When at last the dogs were put asunder, the child was found dead; and the steward uttered a long, mournful cry. Then he came to me and said--

"'Of all the men in Angus's house to-night, I have come worst out of this uproar; for this boy was my only child. And now, O Finn, I demand eric from thee for his death; for thy hounds have slain him.'

"I told him to examine the body of his son, and that if he found the mark of a hound's tooth or nail, I would give him eric. So the child was examined, but no hurt--either bite or scratch--was found on him.

"Then the steward laid me under fearful bonds of druidical gesa,[12] to find out for him who slew his son. So I called for a chess-board and some water, and, having washed my hands, I put my thumb under my tooth of knowledge;[25] and then it was revealed to me that the boy had been slain by thy father. Not wishing to make this known, I now offered to pay eric for the boy; but the steward refused, saying that he should know who killed his son. So I was forced to tell him: whereupon he said--

"'It is easier for Donn to pay me eric than for any other man in this house. And the eric I demand is that his son be placed between my knees: if the lad gets off safe, then I shall follow up the matter no further.'

"Angus was very wroth at this; and thy father would have struck off the steward's head if I had not come between and saved him.

"The steward said no more, but went aside and brought forth a druidical magic wand, and, striking his son with it, he turned him into a great bristly wild boar, having neither ears nor tail. And, holding the wand aloft, he chanted this incantation over the boar--

"By this magical wand,
By the wizard's command,
I appoint and decree,
For Dermat and thee,
The same bitter strife,
The same span of life:
In the pride of his strength,
Thou shalt slay him at length:
Lo, Dermat O'Dyna
Lies stretched in his gore;
Behold my avengers,
The tusks of the boar!
And thus is decreed,
For Donn's cruel deed,
Sure vengeance to come--
His son's bloody doom;
By this wand in my hand,
By the wizard's command!

"The moment he had ended the incantation, the boar rushed out through the open door, and we knew not whither he betook himself.

"When Angus heard the steward's words, he laid a command on thee never to hunt a wild boar, that so thou mightest avoid the doom foretold for thee.

"That same boar is the wild boar of Binbulbin; and he is now rushing furiously towards us. Come, then, let us leave this hill at once, that we may avoid him in time!"

"I know nothing of these incantations and prohibitions," replied Dermat; "or if, as thou sayest, they were put on me in my boyhood, I forget them all now. And neither for fear of this wild boar of Ben-Gulban nor of any other wild beast will I leave this hillock. But thou, before thou goest, leave me thy hound, Bran, to help and encourage my dog, Mac-an-coill."

"I will not leave him," answered Finn; "for often has Bran chased this boar, and has always barely escaped with his life. And now I leave; for lo, here he comes over yonder hill-shoulder."

So Finn went his ways, and left Dermat standing alone on the hill. And after he had left Dermat said--

"I fear me, indeed, that thou hast begun this chase hoping that it would lead to my death. But here will I await the event; for if I am fated to die in this spot, I cannot avoid the doom in store for me."

Immediately the boar came rushing up the face of the hill, with the Fena following far behind. Dermat loosed Mac-an-coill against him, but to no profit; for the hound shied and fled before him at the first glance. Then Dermat said, communing with himself--

"Woe to him who does not follow the advice of a good wife! For this morning Grania bade me bring the Morallta and the Ga-derg; but I brought instead the Begallta and the Ga-boi, disregarding her counsel."

Then, putting his white taper finger into the silken loop of the Ga-boi, he threw it with careful aim, and struck the boar in the middle of the forehead; but to no purpose, for the spear fell harmless to the ground, having neither wounded nor scratched the boar, nor disturbed even a single bristle.

Seeing this, Dermat, though indeed he knew not fear, felt his courage a little damped. And thereupon drawing the Begallta from its sheath, he dealt a blow on the boar's neck, with the full strength of his brawny arm. But neither did he fare better this time; for the sword flew in pieces, leaving the hilt in his hand, while not a bristle of the boar was harmed.

And now the boar rushed on him as he stood defenceless, and with furious onset hurled him headlong to the earth; and, turning round, he gashed the hero's side with his tusk, inflicting a deep and ghastly wound. Turning again, he was about to renew the attack, when Dermat flung the hilt of the sword at him, and drove it through the skull to his brain, so that the brute fell dead on the spot.

Finn and the Fena now came up, and found Dermat lying pale and bleeding, in the pangs of death. And Finn said--

"It likes me well, Dermat, to see thee in this plight; only I am grieved that all the women of Erin cannot see thee also. For now, indeed, the surpassing beauty of thy form, that they loved so well, is gone from thee, and thou art pale and deformed!"

And Dermat answered, "Alas, O Finn! these words surely come from thy lips only, and not from thy heart. And indeed it is in thy power to heal me even now if thou wilt."

"How should I heal thee?" asked Finn.

"It is not hard for thee to do so," answered Dermat. "For when, at the Boyne, the noble gift of foreknowledge was given to thee,[25] this gift also thou didst receive--that to whomsoever thou shouldst give a drink of water from the closed palms of thy two hands, he should be healed from sickness or wounds, even though he stood at the point of death."

"Why should I heal thee by giving thee drink from my hands?" replied Finn. "For of a certainty thou of all men dost least deserve it from me."

"Thou surely speakest hastily, not remembering past services," answered Dermat. "Well, indeed, do I deserve that thou shouldst heal me. Dost thou forget the day thou didst go with the chiefs and nobles of the Fena, to the house of Derca, the son of Donnara, to a banquet? And even as we sat down, and before the feast began, Carbri of the Liffey, son of Cormac, with the men of Tara, and of Bregia, and of Meath, and of Carmna, surrounded the palace, intent on slaying thee and all thy people. And they uttered three great shouts, and threw firebrands to burn the palace over our heads. Then thou didst arise and prepare to issue forth, but I put thee back and bade thee enjoy thy feast; and, leaving the banquet untasted, I rushed forth with a chosen few of my own men, and quenched the flames. Thrice we made a circuit of the palace, dealing slaughter amongst thy foes, so that we left fifty of them dead after each circuit. And having put Carbri and his men to flight, we returned to join the feast. Had I asked thee for a drink that night, gladly wouldst thou have given it to me. And yet, not more justly was it due to me then than it is now."

"Ill dost thou deserve a healing drink from me, or any other favour," said Finn; "for it was thy part to guard Grania the night we came to Tara; but thou didst espouse her secretly, and didst fly with her from Tara, knowing that she was betrothed to me."

"Lay not the blame of that on me," said Dermat; "for Grania put me under heavy gesa, which for all the wealth of the world I would not break through--no, not even for life itself. Neither did I rest on my own judgment in the matter; for well thou knowest that Oisin, and Oscar, and Dering, and Mac Luga counselled me to the course I took.

"And now, O Finn, I pray thee let me drink from thy hands, for I feel the weakness of death coming on me. And thou wilt not gainsay that I deserve it, if thou wilt only remember the feast that Midac, the son of Colga, made for thee in the Fairy Palace of the Quicken Trees.[CXXXVI.] To this feast Midac invited thee and thy companions; while to the Palace of the Island he brought secretly the King of the World with a great host, and the three kings of the Island of the Torrent, with intent to slay thee and all thy Fena.

"Now Midac caused some of the clay of the Island of the Torrent to be placed under you, with foul spells, in the Palace of the Quicken Trees, so that your feet and your hands clove to the ground. And it was revealed to thee that the King of the World was about to send a chief with a troop of warriors, to slay you, helpless as you were, and to bring him your heads to the Palace of the Island.

"But at that same time, I came to thee outside the Palace of the Quicken Trees; and thou didst make known to me your deadly strait. Then did I take thee, Finn, and those who were with thee, under the protection of my knighthood and valour; and I went to the ford to defend it against the foreigners.

"And after a little time the three dragon-like kings of the Island of the Torrent came towards the palace: but I defended the ford, and, venturing my life for thee, I bore their attack and slew them all three. And I swept off their heads, and brought them, all gory as they were, in the hollow of my shield, to the palace where you lay miserably bound; and, sprinkling the clay with the blood, I broke the spell and set you free. And had I asked thee for a drink on that night, O Finn, of a surety thou wouldst not have refused me.

"And many another deadly strait did I free you from, since the day I was admitted among the Fena, always putting myself forward to the post of danger, and perilling my life for your safety; and now why dost thou requite me with this foul treachery?

"Moreover, many a king's son and many a brave warrior hast thou slain; and thou hast earned the enmity of powerful foes: neither is there yet an end of it. For the day will come--I see it even now--a day of direful overthrow and slaughter,[CXXXVII.] when few, alas! of the Fena will be left to tell the tale. Then thou shalt sorely need my help, O Finn, and sorely shalt thou rue this day. I grieve not, indeed, for thee, but for my dear, faithful companions--for Oscar and Mac Luga and Dering, and more than all for Oisin, who shall long outlive the others in sad old age.[CXXXVIII.] Alas! how deadly shall be their strait when I am not near to aid them!"

Then Oscar, moved with pity even to tears, addressing Finn, said, "Although I am nearer akin to thee, O king, than to Dermat, yet I cannot suffer that he die, when a drink from thy hands would heal him. Bring him, then, a drink without delay."

And Finn answered, "I know of no well on this mountain from which to bring drink."

"Therein thou speakest not truth," said Dermat; "for thou knowest that not more than nine paces from thee, hidden under yonder bush, is a well of crystal water."

Thereupon Finn went to the well, and, holding his two hands tightly together, he brought up some of the water, and came towards Dermat; but after he had walked a little way, he let it spill through his fingers, saying that he was not able to bring water in his hands so far.

"Not so, Finn," said Dermat. "I saw thee that of thy own will thou didst let it spill. And now, O king, hasten, for death is on me."

Again he went to the well, and was bringing the water slowly, while Dermat followed the dripping hands with his eyes; but when Finn thought of Grania he let the water spill a second time. And Dermat, seeing this, uttered a piteous sigh of anguish.

And now was Oscar no longer able to contain his grief and rage; and he said, "I swear, O king, if thou dost not bring the water, that only one of us two--thou or I--shall leave this hill alive!"

Hearing Oscar's words, and seeing the frowning looks of the others, Finn dipped up the water a third time, and was hastening forward; but before he had got half-way, Dermat's head dropped backwards, and his life departed.

And all the Fena present raised three long loud cries of sorrow for Dermat O'Dyna.

Then Oscar, looking fiercely on Finn, spoke and said, "Would that thou thyself lay dead here instead of Dermat! For now indeed the noblest heart of the Fena is still; and our mainstay in battle and danger is gone. Ah! why did I not foresee this? Why was I not told that Dermat's life was linked with the life of the wild boar of Ben-Gulban? Then would I have stayed this chase, and put off the evil day!"

And Oscar wept; and Oisin, and Dering, and Mac Luga wept also, for Dermat was much loved by all.

After a time, Finn said, "Let us now leave this hill, lest Angus of the Bruga overtake us. For although we had no hand in Dermat's death, nevertheless he may not believe us."

So Finn and the Fena departed from the hill, Finn leading Dermat's dog, Mac-an-coill. But Oisin, and Oscar, and Dering, and Mac Luga turned back, and with tears, threw their mantles over Dermat; after which they followed the others.

Grania sat that day on the highest rampart of Rath-Grania, watching for Dermat's return; for a dark fear haunted her mind on account of this chase. And when at last the Fena came in view, she saw Dermat's dog led by Finn; but not seeing Dermat himself, she said--

"Ah me! what is this I see? Surely if Dermat were alive, it is not by Finn that Mac-an-coill would be led to his home!"

And as she spoke she fell forward off the rampart, and lay long in a swoon as if her spirit had fled, while her handmaid stood over her, weeping and distracted. And when at last she opened her eyes, then indeed they told her that Dermat was dead; and she uttered a long and piteous cry, so that her women and all the people of the court came round her to ask the cause of her sorrow. And when they were told that Dermat had perished by the wild boar of Ben-Gulban, they raised three loud, bitter cries of lamentation, which were heard in the glens and wildernesses around, and which pierced the clouds of heaven.

When at length Grania became calm, she ordered that five hundred of her people should go to Ben-Gulban, to bring home the body of Dermat. Then, turning to Finn, who still held Mac-an-coill in his hand, she asked him to leave her Dermat's hound; but Finn refused, saying that a hound was a small matter, and that he might be allowed to inherit at least so much of Dermat's riches. When Oisin heard this, he came forward and took the hound from the hand of Finn and gave him to Grania.

At the time that the men left Rath-Grania to go for the body of Dermat, it was revealed to Angus that the hero was lying dead on Ben-Gulban. And he set out straightway, and travelling on the pure, cool wind, soon reached the mountain; so that when Grania's people came up, they found him standing over the body, sorrowing, with his people behind him. And they held forward the wrong sides of their shields in token of peace.

Then both companies, having viewed the dead hero, raised three mighty cries of sorrow, so loud and piercing that they were heard in the wastes of the firmament, and over the five provinces of Erin.

And when they had ceased, Angus spoke and said, "Alas! why did I abandon thee, even for once, O my son? For from the day I took thee to Bruga, a tender child, I have watched over thee and guarded thee from thy foes, until last night. Ah! why did I abandon thee to be decoyed to thy doom by the guileful craft of Finn? By my neglect hast thou suffered, O Dermat; and now, indeed, I shall for ever feel the bitter pangs of sorrow!"

Then Angus asked Grania's people what they had come for. And when they told him that Grania had sent them to bring the body of Dermat to Rath-Grania, he said--

"I will bring the body of Dermat with me to Bruga of the Boyne; and I will keep him on his bier, where he shall be preserved by my power, as if he lived. And though I cannot, indeed, restore him to life, yet I will breathe a spirit into him, so that for a little while each day he shall talk with me."

Then he caused the body to be placed on a golden bier, with the hero's javelins fixed one on each side, points upwards. And his people raised the bier and carried it before him; and in this manner they marched slowly to Bruga of the Boyne.

Grania's people then returned; and when they had told her the whole matter, though she was grieved at first, yet in the end she was content, knowing how Angus loved Dermat.

FOOTNOTES:

[CXXXIV.] See note, page 302.

[CXXXV.] Now Benbulbin, a mountain five miles north of the town of Sligo.

[CXXXVI.] See this story told at length, page 177.

[CXXXVII.] A prophetic allusion to the battle of Gavra. (See note 28 at the end.)

[CXXXVIII.] A prophetic allusion to the events related in the story of "Oisin in Tirnanoge," page 385.

THE CHASE OF SLIEVE CULLINN.

IN WHICH IT IS RELATED HOW FINN'S HAIR WAS CHANGED IN ONE DAY FROM THE COLOUR OF GOLD TO SILVERY GREY.[CXXXIX.]

Culand, the smith of the Dedannans,[1] who lived at Slieve Cullinn,[CXL.] had two beautiful daughters, Milucra and Aina. They both loved Finn,[23] and each sought him for her husband.

As they walked together one evening near Allen,[CXLI.] they fell to talking of many things; and their conversation turning at last on their future husbands, Aina said she would never marry a man with grey hair.

When Milucra heard this, she resolved with herself that if she could not get Finn, she would plan so that he should not marry her sister Aina. So she departed immediately, and, turning her steps northwards, she summoned the Dedannans to meet her at Slieve Cullinn. Having brought them all together, she caused them to make her a lake[CXLII.] near the top of the mountain; and she breathed a druidical virtue on its waters, that all who bathed in it should become grey.

On a morning not long after this, Finn happened to be walking alone on the lawn before the palace of Allen, when a doe sprang out from a thicket, and, passing quite close to him, bounded past like the wind. Without a moment's delay, he signalled for his companions and dogs; but none heard except his two hounds, Bran and Skolan. He instantly gave chase, with no other arms than his sword, Mac-an-Lona, and accompanied only by his two dogs; and before the Fena[23] knew of his absence, he had left Allen of the green slopes far behind.

The chase turned northwards; and though the hounds kept close to the doe, the chief kept quite as close to the hounds the whole way. And so they continued without rest or pause, till they reached Slieve Cullinn, far in the north.

Here the doe made a sudden turn and disappeared; and what direction she took, whether east or west, Finn knew not, for he never caught sight of her after. And he marvelled much that any doe in the world should be able to lead Bran and Skolan so long a chase, and escape from them in the end. Meantime they kept searching, Finn taking one side of the hill and the dogs another, so that he was at last left quite alone.

While he was wandering about the hill and whistling for his hounds, he heard the plaintive cry of a woman at no great distance; and, turning his steps towards the place, he saw a lady sitting on the brink of a little lake, weeping as if her heart would break. Never before did the chieftain see a maiden so lovely. The rose colour on her cheeks was heightened by her grief; her lips were like ruddy quicken berries; the delicate blossom of the apple tree was not more white than her neck; her hair fell in heavy golden ringlets on her shoulders; and as she looked up at the chief, her eyes beamed like stars on a frosty night.

Finn accosted her; and, seeing that she ceased her weeping for a moment, he asked her had she seen his two hounds pass that way.

"I have not seen thy hounds," she replied, "nor have I been at all concerned in the chase; for, alas, there is something that troubles me more nearly, a misadventure that has caused me great sorrow!"

And as she spoke these words, she burst out weeping and sobbing more bitterly than before.

Finn was greatly moved at this, so much so, that he quite forgot all about his hounds and his own troubles; and he asked her--

"What is the cause of this great grief, gentle lady? Has death robbed you of your husband or your child, or what other evil has befallen you? I am much concerned to see a lady in such distress; and I wish you to tell me if anything can be done to lighten your sorrow, or to remove the cause of it?"

She replied, "I had a precious gold ring on my finger, which I prized beyond anything in the world; and it has fallen from me into the water. I saw it roll down the steep slope at the bottom, till it went quite out of my sight. This is the cause of my sorrow, and thou canst remedy the mishap if thou wilt. The Fena are sworn never to refuse help to a woman in distress; and I now put on thee those gesa[12] that true heroes dare not break through, to search for the ring, and cease not till thou find it and restore it to me."

Though the chief had indeed at the moment no inclination to swim, he could not refuse a prayer urged in this manner. So he plunged in without a moment's hesitation, and examined the lake on all sides, diving and searching into every nook and cranny at the bottom.

After swimming in this manner three times round and round the lake, he found the ring at last; and, approaching the lady, he handed it to her from the water. The moment she had got it she sprang into the lake before his eyes, and, diving down, disappeared in an instant.

The chief, wondering greatly at this strange behaviour, stepped forth from the water; but as soon as his feet had touched the dry land, he lost all his strength, and fell on the brink, a withered, grey old man, shrunken up and trembling all over with weakness. He sat him down in woful plight; and soon his hounds came up. They looked at him wistfully and sniffed and whined around him; but they knew him not, and, passing on, they ran round the lake, searching in vain for their master.

On that day the Fena were assembled in the banquet hall of the palace of Allen; some feasting and drinking, some playing chess, and others listening to the sweet music of the harpers. While all were in this wise pleasantly engaged, Kylta Mac Ronan[23] stood up in the midst, and said in the hearing of all--

"I have observed, friends, that our master and king, Finn the son of Cumal, has not been amongst us to-day, as is his wont; and I wish to know whither he has gone."

This speech caused a sudden alarm amongst us; for no one knew aught of the chief, or was aware till that moment that he was absent at all; and we knew not wherefore he had disappeared or whither he had gone. In the midst of our anxious tumult, the envious and foul-mouthed Conan Mail[23] stood up, and said--

"I have never heard sweeter music than your words, Kylta! The Fena are now about to seek for their king; and my only wish is that their quest may last for a whole year, and that it may prove a vain search in the end! Be not cast down, however, O Fena; if you should fail to find the son of Cumal, you will not be so ill off as you think; for I will undertake to be your king from this time forth!"

Though we were at the time more inclined to be sad than mirthful, being weighed down with much anxiety, we could not help laughing when we heard the loud, foolish talk of Conan Mail; but we took no further notice of him.

Inquiring now from the lesser people about the palace, we found that the chief and his two dogs had followed a doe northwards. So, having mustered a strong party of the Fena, we started in pursuit. Kylta and I took the lead, the rest keeping close behind; and in this order we followed the track, never taking rest or slackening speed till we reached Slieve Cullinn.

We began to search round the hill, hoping to find either the chief himself or some person who might give us tidings of him. After wandering among brakes and rough, rocky places, we at last espied a grey-headed old man sitting on the brink of a lake. I went up to him to ask a question, followed by the rest of the Fena. At first I thought he might be a fisherman who had come up from the plains to fish; but when we came near him, he seemed so wretched an old creature, all shrivelled up, with the skin hanging in wrinkles over the bare points of his bones, that I felt quite sure he was not a fisherman, and that he was reduced to that state more by sickness and want than by old age.

I asked the poor old man if he had seen a noble-looking hero pass that way, with two hounds, chasing a doe. He never answered a word, neither did he stir from where he sat, or even look up; but at the question, his head sank on his breast, and his limbs shook all over as with palsy. Then he fell into a sudden fit of grief, wringing his hands and uttering feeble cries of woe.

We soothed him and used him gently for a time, hoping he might speak at last; but to no purpose, for he still kept silent. Then at last growing impatient, and thinking that this might be a mere headstrong humour, we drew our swords, and threatened him with instant death if he did not at once tell us all he knew of the chief and his hounds--for we felt sure he had seen them. But he only lamented the more, and still answered nothing.

At last, after this had gone on for some time, and when we were about to leave him, he beckoned to Kylta Mac Ronan; and when Kylta had come near, the old man whispered into his ear the dreadful secret. And then we all came to know the truth. When we found that the withered old man was no other than our beloved king, Finn, himself, we uttered three shouts of lamentation and anger, so loud and prolonged that the foxes and badgers rushed affrighted from their dens in the hollows of the mountain.

Conan now stepped forward, looking very fierce; and, unsheathing his sword with mighty bluster, he began in a loud voice to revile Finn and the Fena with the foulest language he could think of. And he ended by saying that he meant to slay the king that moment--

"Now, O Finn Mac Cumal, I will certainly strike off your head; for you are the man that never gave me credit for valour, or praised my noble deeds in battle. Ever since your father, Cumal of the Hosts, was slain on the field of Knocka[CXLIII.] by the Clann Morna[23] of the Golden Shields, you have been our bitter foe; and it is against your will that any of us are now alive. I am very glad to see you, Finn Mac Cumal, brought down to what you now are; and I only wish that the rest of the Clann Baskin[23] were like you. Then should I very soon make short work of them all; and joyful to me would be the task of raising a great carn to their memory!"

To which Oscar replied with great scorn, "It is not worth while drawing a sword to punish thee, Conan Mail, vain and foolish boaster as thou art; and besides, we have at present something else to think of. But if it were not for the trouble that now lies heavy on us on account of our king, I would of a certainty chastise thee by breaking all the bones of thy mouth with my fist!"

"Cease, Oscar," returned Conan, in a voice still louder than before; "cease your foolish talk! It is actions and not words that prove a man; and as to the noble warlike deeds done in past times by the Fena, it was by the Clann Morna they were performed, and not by the chicken-hearted Clann Baskin!"

The fiery Oscar could bear this no longer. He rushed towards Conan Mail; but Conan, terrified at his vengeful look, ran in amongst the Fena with great outcry, beseeching them to save him from the rage of Oscar. We straightway confronted the young hero, and checked him in his headlong career; and after much ado, we soothed his anger and made peace between him and Conan.

When quietness was restored, Kylta asked Finn how this dread evil had befallen him, who was the enchanter, and whether there was any hope of restoring him to his own shape. Finn told him that it was the daughter of Culand the smith who had transformed him by her spells. And then he recounted how she had lured him to swim in the lake, and how, when he came forth, he was turned into a withered old man.

We now made a framework litter of slender poles, and, placing our king on it, we lifted him tenderly on our shoulders. And, turning from the lake, we marched slowly up-hill till we came to the fairy palace of Slieve Cullinn, where we knew the daughter of Culand had her dwelling deep under ground.[19] Here we set him down, and the whole troop began at once to dig, determined to find the enchantress in her cave-palace, and to take vengeance on her if she did not restore our chief.

For three days and three nights we dug, without a moment's rest or pause, till at length we reached her hollow dwelling; when she, affrighted at the tumult and at the vengeful look of the heroes, suddenly started forth from the cave and stood before us. She held in her hand a drinking-horn of red gold, which was meant for the king. Yet she appeared unwilling, and held it back, notwithstanding the threatening looks of the Fena. But, happening to cast her eyes on the graceful and manly youth, Oscar, she was moved with such admiration and love for him that she wavered no longer, but placed the fairy drinking-horn in the hands of the king. No sooner had he drunk from it, than his own shape and features returned, save only that his hair remained of a silvery grey.

When we gazed on our chief in his own graceful and manly form, we were all pleased with the soft, silvery hue of the grey hairs. And, though the enchantress appeared ready to restore this also, Finn himself told her that it pleased him as it pleased the others, and that he chose to remain grey for the rest of his life.

When the king had drunk from the horn, he passed it to Mac Reth, who drank from it in like manner and gave it to Dering. Dering, after drinking, was about to hand it to the next, when it gave a sudden twist out of his hand, and darted into the loose earth at our feet, where it sank out of sight. We ran at once to recover it; but, though we turned up the earth deeply all round, we were not able to find the drinking-horn. This was a disappointment that vexed us exceedingly, for if we had all drunk from it, we should have been gifted with a foreknowledge of future events.

A growth of slender twigs grew up afterwards over the spot where it sank into the ground; and this little thicket is still gifted with a part of the virtue of the golden drinking-horn. For any one who looks on it in the morning fasting, will know in a moment all things that are to happen that day.

So ended the Chase of Slieve Cullinn; and in this wise it came to pass that Finn's hair was turned in one day from golden yellow to silvery grey.

FOOTNOTES:

[CXXXIX.] It is necessary to remind the reader that this story and the two following are related by Oisin, in his old age, to St. Patrick. (See the prefatory note to the story of "Oisin in Tirnanoge," p. 385; and see also note 23 at the end.)

[CXL.] Now Slieve Gullion, a lofty, isolated mountain in the south of the county Armagh, celebrated in legendary lore.

[CXLI.] The Hill of Allen, in Kildare, where Finn had his palace. (See note 23 at the end.)

[CXLII.] The little lake for which this legendary origin is assigned lies near the top of Slieve Gullion. There were several wells in Ireland which, according to the belief of old times, had the property of turning the hair grey. Giraldus Cambrensis tells us of such a well in Munster; and he states that he once saw a man who had washed a part of his head in this well, and that the part washed was white, while the rest was black!

It is to be observed that the peasantry of the district retain to this day a lingering belief in the power of the lake of Slieve Gullion to turn the hair grey.

[CXLIII.] Knocka, now Castleknock, near Dublin. (See note 27 at the end.)

THE CHASE OF SLIEVE FUAD.

IN WHICH IT IS RELATED HOW AILNA, THE WIFE OF MERGAH OF THE SHARP SPEARS, IN ORDER TO BE REVENGED ON THE FENA FOR THE DEATH OF HER HUSBAND, TRANSFORMED HERSELF INTO A DEER, AND DECOYED THEM TILL SHE GOT THEM INTO THE POWER OF HER BROTHER, DRYANTORE, A GIANT AND AN ENCHANTER; HOW HE THREW THEM INTO A DUNGEON, WITH INTENT TO KILL THEM; AND HOW THEY WERE IN THE END SET FREE BY CONAN MAIL.[CXLIV.]

Finn and the Fena[23] went one day to hunt at Slieve Fuad.[CXLV.] When they had come very near to the top of the mountain, a deer suddenly bounded from a thicket right before them, very large and fierce, with a great pair of sharp, dangerous antlers. At once they loosed their dogs and gave chase; and those who were scattered here and there about the hill gave up the pursuit of smaller game to join the main body for it was very seldom they fell in with a deer that promised better sport.

She led them through rugged places, over rocks and bogs, and into deep glens. The hounds several times surrounded her; but she fought her way with so much strength and fury that she always escaped, after killing many of the dogs and disabling some of the men.

Soon she left Slieve Fuad behind, nor did she slacken speed till she reached the green hill of Lidas, while the hunters and dogs followed in full chase close behind. She then made her way across the open country to a rugged and bushy hill--the hill of Carrigan;[CXLVI.] and here they suddenly lost her among the rocks and thickets. They searched round the hill without avail, north, south, east, and west, till all, both men and dogs, were quite scattered; and Finn and Dara the Melodious were left alone.

At length Finn's dog, Skolan, started the deer once more, and again the chase began. Back over the selfsame course she ran, by the hill of Lidas, and straight on towards Slieve Fuad, Finn and Dara close on her track; while the main body of the Fena followed far behind, guided by the cries of the dogs.

When the deer reached Slieve Fuad, she again took cover and disappeared at the very spot where they had first started her; and the two chiefs, after beating the thickets on every side, were at length forced to give up the search.

A druidical mist now rose up, darkening the air, and enfolding them on every side; so that they lost their way. They tried many times to regain the path, but to no purpose; for they only lost themselves more and more among the quagmires and thickets. At last they sat down to rest, weary and baffled; and Dara played a mournful strain on his timpan; after which they sounded the Dord-Fian,[CXLVII.] as a signal to their friends.

When the Fena heard the Dord-Fian sounding afar off, they felt sure that their leader was in trouble or strait of some kind; and they started to his relief, making northwards straight towards the point from which they thought the signal came. But they had not gone far when they heard it sounding from the east, and altered their course accordingly. Again it changed to the west; and no sooner had they set forward in that direction than it seemed to come from the south. In this manner were they led hither and thither, till they became quite bewildered; and they found themselves no nearer to those they were in search of, for every time they heard the Dord-Fian, it seemed as far off as ever.

Meantime Finn and Dara, after resting for a time, again started off, intent on trying once more to reach their friends; for they heard their shouts, and knew they were seeking them. As they were making their way through the thick fog, they heard a voice at a little distance, as if from one in distress; and, turning their steps that way, they met a young woman, very beautiful, and very pleasing in manner, but looking weary and sore perplexed, and all over in sad plight from the bogs and brambles.

Finn accosted her in a gentle voice, asking how she came to be alone in a place so wild.

She replied, "I and my husband were journeying along over the plain, when we heard the melodious cry of hounds; and he left me to follow the chase, telling me to continue along the same path, and promising to rejoin me without delay. But this fairy fog has risen around me, and I have lost my way, so that I know not now in what direction to go."

Finn then asked her name and the name of her husband.

"My husband's name is Lavaran, and mine is Glanlua. But I perceive that you are one of the Fena; and indeed I think, from your arms and from your noble mien, that you must be the great chief Finn himself. If this be so, I place myself under your protection; and I know well that you will lead me safely out of this place to my husband; for the Fena never yet refused their help to a woman in distress."

Finn replied, "You are quite right, lady, for I am Finn; and this chase that has parted you and your husband belongs to me. We will certainly take you under our protection, and we will neither abandon you on this mountain, nor suffer any one to harm you. But as to leading you to your husband, it is not at present in our power to do that; for you must know, lady, that we also have been set astray by this magical fairy fog. Nevertheless, we will do the best we can; and now you had better come with us."

So the three set forward in the direction they thought most likely to lead to the open plain.

After walking for some time, they heard a low, sweet strain of fairy music; and they stopped to listen. It seemed to be near them and around them in the fog, so that Finn thought it came from the spot where the lady stood; and she thought it came from Finn or Dara: and the music was followed by shouts and noise, as if from a great company. When the noise ceased, the music began again more sweetly than before; so that they felt heavy, and as if inclined to sleep. Still more drowsy and powerless they became as they listened; and at last they all three sank on the ground, in a trance deep and deathlike.

After a time they awoke, and slowly regained their senses; though they were so weak that they could scarcely move. The fog had cleared away, leaving the air bright and warm; and when they were able to look around, they found themselves on the margin of a blue lake. The part of the lake that lay in front of them was narrow, and quite calm and smooth; but on each side, to the right and left, it opened out into two broad, green-bordered seas, with great waves tumbling wildly about, as if the waters were torn up by whirlwinds. But where they sat, not a breath was blowing. And looking across the narrow part, they saw a stately palace right before them on the opposite shore.

As they were gazing at all these strange things, silent and much astonished, they saw a warrior coming forth from the palace, in size like a giant, rough and fierce-looking, with a beautiful woman by his side. The two walked quickly down to the shore, and, plunging in, they swam straight across the middle of the lake. And Dara and Glanlua, turning to Finn, said--

"Of a surety, it is not for our good yonder strangers are approaching; but to work us treachery and mischief!"

This forecast turned out to be true. The large warrior and the beautiful lady had no sooner gained the land than they came up to Finn and his two companions; and without speaking a word, the giant seized them roughly, and led them down to the shore of the lake. For the two heroes were still so weak from the spell of the fairy music that they were not able to raise a hand to defend either the lady or themselves.

The giant and his companion, making no delay, plunged in, and swam back towards the palace, bringing the three with them; and as soon as they had reached the shore, the strange warrior, addressing Finn in a fierce and surly manner, said--

"For a long time have I sought Finn Mac Cumal, the evil-minded and crafty; and now, O Finn, now that thou hast been by a well-laid plan cast under my power, I will take good care that thou shalt not escape till I take revenge, even to the full, for all the injuries thou hast done to me and to my sister!"

Finn listened to this speech with much surprise, for he could not call to mind that he had ever seen the hero before; and he said--

"Tell me, I pray thee, who thou art; for I know thee not; neither do I know of any injury thou hast suffered at my hands. Thou art, indeed, large of body, and fierce and boastful in speech; but know that to take revenge on a foe who is unable to defend himself, is a deed quite unbecoming a hero!"

The large man replied, "Do you not remember the treachery you practised on Mergah of the Sharp Spears, and on my sons, two fair youths, whom you slew by unfair means, at the battle of Knockanare?[CXLVIII.] Well indeed do I know thee, Finn, for I am Dryantore, and this is Ailna my sister, the wife of Mergah. She is left without her husband, and I without my sons, by your cruel wiles; for it was by fraud and foul play, and not by fair fighting, that you gained the battle of Knockanare, and slew Mergah and his host!"