Celtic Fairy Tales (16 page)

He went home very tired this night, but it's a wonder if the king's
cattle had not milk. The whole family was delighted that they had
got such a herd.

Next day he betakes himself to the castle. When he reached the door,
a little flattering carlin met him standing in the door. "All hail
and good luck to thee, fisher's son; 'tis I myself am pleased to see
thee; great is the honour for this kingdom, for thy like to be come
into it—thy coming in is fame for this little bothy; go in first;
honour to the gentles; go on, and take breath."

"In before me, thou crone; I like not flattery out of doors; go in
and let's hear thy speech." In went the crone, and when her back was
to him he drew his sword and whips her head off; but the sword flew
out of his hand. And swift the crone gripped her head with both
hands, and puts it on her neck as it was before. The dog sprung on
the crone, and she struck the generous dog with the club of magic;
and there he lay. But the herd struggled for a hold of the club of
magic, and with one blow on the top of the head she was on earth in
the twinkling of an eye. He went forward, up a little, and there was
spoil! Gold and silver, and each thing more precious than another,
in the crone's castle. He went back to the king's house, and then
there was rejoicing.

He followed herding in this way for a time; but one night after he
came home, instead of getting "All hail" and "Good luck" from the
dairymaid, all were at crying and woe.

He asked what cause of woe there was that night. The dairymaid said
"There is a great beast with three heads in the loch, and it must
get some one every year, and the lot had come this year on the
king's daughter, and at midday to-morrow she is to meet the Laidly
Beast at the upper end of the loch, but there is a great suitor
yonder who is going to rescue her."

"What suitor is that?" said the herd. "Oh, he is a great General of
arms," said the dairymaid, "and when he kills the beast, he will
marry the king's daughter, for the king has said that he who could
save his daughter should get her to marry."

But on the morrow, when the time grew near, the king's daughter and
this hero of arms went to give a meeting to the beast, and they
reached the black rock, at the upper end of the loch. They were but
a short time there when the beast stirred in the midst of the loch;
but when the General saw this terror of a beast with three heads, he
took fright, and he slunk away, and he hid himself. And the king's
daughter was under fear and under trembling, with no one at all to
save her. Suddenly she sees a doughty handsome youth, riding a black
horse, and coming where she was. He was marvellously arrayed and
full armed, and his black dog moved after him. "There is gloom on
your face, girl," said the youth; "what do you here?"

"Oh! that's no matter," said the king's daughter. "It's not long
I'll be here, at all events."

"I say not that," said he.

"A champion fled as likely as you, and not long since," said she.

"He is a champion who stands the war," said the youth. And to meet
the beast he went with his sword and his dog. But there was a
spluttering and a splashing between himself and the beast! The dog
kept doing all he might, and the king's daughter was palsied by fear
of the noise of the beast! One of them would now be under, and now
above. But at last he cut one of the heads off it. It gave one roar,
and the son of earth, echo of the rocks, called to its screech, and
it drove the loch in spindrift from end to end, and in a twinkling
it went out of sight.

"Good luck and victory follow you, lad!" said the king's daughter.
"I am safe for one night, but the beast will come again and again,
until the other two heads come off it." He caught the beast's head,
and he drew a knot through it, and he told her to bring it with her
there to-morrow. She gave him a gold ring, and went home with the
head on her shoulder, and the herd betook himself to the cows. But
she had not gone far when this great General saw her, and he said to
her, "I will kill you if you do not say that 'twas I took the head
off the beast." "Oh!" says she, "'tis I will say it; who else took
the head off the beast but you!" They reached the king's house, and
the head was on the General's shoulder. But here was rejoicing, that
she should come home alive and whole, and this great captain with
the beast's head full of blood in his hand. On the morrow they went
away, and there was no question at all but that this hero would save
the king's daughter.

They reached the same place, and they were not long there when the
fearful Laidly Beast stirred in the midst of the loch, and the hero
slunk away as he did on yesterday, but it was not long after this
when the man of the black horse came, with another dress on. No
matter; she knew that it was the very same lad. "It is I am pleased
to see you," said she. "I am in hopes you will handle your great
sword to-day as you did yesterday. Come up and take breath." But
they were not long there when they saw the beast steaming in the
midst of the loch.

At once he went to meet the beast, but
there
was
Cloopersteich and Claperstich, spluttering, splashing, raving, and
roaring on the beast! They kept at it thus for a long time, and
about the mouth of night he cut another head off the beast. He put
it on the knot and gave it to her. She gave him one of her earrings,
and he leaped on the black horse, and he betook himself to the
herding. The king's daughter went home with the heads. The General
met her, and took the heads from her, and he said to her, that she
must tell that it was he who took the head off the beast this time
also. "Who else took the head off the beast but you?" said she. They
reached the king's house with the heads. Then there was joy and
gladness.

About the same time on the morrow, the two went away. The officer
hid himself as he usually did. The king's daughter betook herself to
the bank of the loch. The hero of the black horse came, and if
roaring and raving were on the beast on the days that were passed,
this day it was horrible. But no matter, he took the third head off
the beast, and drew it through the knot, and gave it to her. She
gave him her other earring, and then she went home with the heads.
When they reached the king's house, all were full of smiles, and the
General was to marry the king's daughter the next day. The wedding
was going on, and every one about the castle longing till the priest
should come. But when the priest came, she would marry only the one
who could take the heads off the knot without cutting it. "Who
should take the heads off the knot but the man that put the heads
on?" said the king.

The General tried them; but he could not loose them; and at last
there was no one about the house but had tried to take the heads off
the knot, but they could not. The king asked if there were any one
else about the house that would try to take the heads off the knot.
They said that the herd had not tried them yet. Word went for the
herd; and he was not long throwing them hither and thither. "But
stop a bit, my lad," said the king's daughter; "the man that took
the heads off the beast, he has my ring and my two earrings." The
herd put his hand in his pocket, and he threw them on the board.
"Thou art my man," said the king's daughter. The king was not so
pleased when he saw that it was a herd who was to marry his
daughter, but he ordered that he should be put in a better dress;
but his daughter spoke, and she said that he had a dress as fine as
any that ever was in his castle; and thus it happened. The herd put
on the giant's golden dress, and they married that same day.

They were now married, and everything went on well. But one day, and
it was the namesake of the day when his father had promised him to
the sea-maiden, they were sauntering by the side of the loch, and lo
and behold! she came and took him away to the loch without leave or
asking. The king's daughter was now mournful, tearful, blind-
sorrowful for her married man; she was always with her eye on the
loch. An old soothsayer met her, and she told how it had befallen
her married mate. Then he told her the thing to do to save her mate,
and that she did.

She took her harp to the sea-shore, and sat and played; and the sea-
maiden came up to listen, for sea-maidens are fonder of music than
all other creatures. But when the wife saw the sea-maiden she
stopped. The sea-maiden said, "Play on!" but the princess said, "No,
not till I see my man again." So the sea-maiden put up his head out
of the loch. Then the princess played again, and stopped till the
sea-maiden put him up to the waist. Then the princess played and
stopped again, and this time the sea-maiden put him all out of the
loch, and he called on the falcon and became one and flew on shore.
But the sea-maiden took the princess, his wife.

Sorrowful was each one that was in the town on this night. Her man
was mournful, tearful, wandering down and up about the banks of the
loch, by day and night. The old soothsayer met him. The soothsayer
told him that there was no way of killing the sea-maiden but the one
way, and this is it—"In the island that is in the midst of the loch
is the white-footed hind of the slenderest legs and the swiftest
step, and though she be caught, there will spring a hoodie out of
her, and though the hoodie should be caught, there will spring a
trout out of her, but there is an egg in the mouth of the trout, and
the soul of the sea-maiden is in the egg, and if the egg breaks, she
is dead."

Now, there was no way of getting to this island, for the sea-maiden
would sink each boat and raft that would go on the loch. He thought
he would try to leap the strait with the black horse, and even so he
did. The black horse leaped the strait. He saw the hind, and he let
the black dog after her, but when he was on one side of the island,
the hind would be on the other side. "Oh! would the black dog of the
carcass of flesh were here!" No sooner spoke he the word than the
grateful dog was at his side; and after the hind he went, and they
were not long in bringing her to earth. But he no sooner caught her
than a hoodie sprang out of her. "Would that the falcon grey, of
sharpest eye and swiftest wing, were here!" No sooner said he this
than the falcon was after the hoodie, and she was not long putting
her to earth; and as the hoodie fell on the bank of the loch, out of
her jumps the trout. "Oh! that thou wert by me now, oh otter!" No
sooner said than the otter was at his side, and out on the loch she
leaped, and brings the trout from the midst of the loch; but no
sooner was the otter on shore with the trout than the egg came from
his mouth. He sprang and he put his foot on it. 'Twas then the sea-
maiden appeared, and she said, "Break not the egg, and you shall get
all you ask." "Deliver to me my wife!" In the wink of an eye she was
by his side. When he got hold of her hand in both his hands, he let
his foot down on the egg, and the sea-maiden died.

What Irish man, woman, or child has not heard of our renowned
Hibernian Hercules, the great and glorious Fin M'Coul? Not one, from
Cape Clear to the Giant's Causeway, nor from that back again to Cape
Clear. And, by-the-way, speaking of the Giant's Causeway brings me
at once to the beginning of my story. Well, it so happened that Fin
and his men were all working at the Causeway, in order to make a
bridge across to Scotland; when Fin, who was very fond of his wife
Oonagh, took it into his head that he would go home and see how the
poor woman got on in his absence. So, accordingly, he pulled up a
fir-tree, and, after lopping off the roots and branches, made a
walking-stick of it, and set out on his way to Oonagh.

Oonagh, or rather Fin, lived at this time on the very tip-top of
Knockmany Hill, which faces a cousin of its own called Cullamore,
that rises up, half-hill, half-mountain, on the opposite side.

There was at that time another giant, named Cucullin—some say he
was Irish, and some say he was Scotch—but whether Scotch or Irish,
sorrow doubt of it but he was a targer. No other giant of the day
could stand before him; and such was his strength, that, when well
vexed, he could give a stamp that shook the country about him. The
fame and name of him went far and near; and nothing in the shape of
a man, it was said, had any chance with him in a fight. By one blow
of his fists he flattened a thunderbolt and kept it in his pocket,
in the shape of a pancake, to show to all his enemies, when they
were about to fight him. Undoubtedly he had given every giant in
Ireland a considerable beating, barring Fin M'Coul himself; and he
swore that he would never rest, night or day, winter or summer, till
he would serve Fin with the same sauce, if he could catch him.
However, the short and long of it was, with reverence be it spoken,
that Fin heard Cucullin was coming to the Causeway to have a trial
of strength with him; and he was seized with a very warm and sudden
fit of affection for his wife, poor woman, leading a very lonely,
uncomfortable life of it in his absence. He accordingly pulled up
the fir-tree, as I said before, and having snedded it into a
walking-stick, set out on his travels to see his darling Oonagh on
the top of Knockmany, by the way.

In truth, the people wondered very much why it was that Fin selected
such a windy spot for his dwelling-house, and they even went so far
as to tell him as much.

"What can you mane, Mr. M'Coul," said they, "by pitching your tent
upon the top of Knockmany, where you never are without a breeze, day
or night, winter or summer, and where you're often forced to take
your nightcap without either going to bed or turning up your little
finger; ay, an' where, besides this, there's the sorrow's own want
of water?"

"Why," said Fin, "ever since I was the height of a round tower, I
was known to be fond of having a good prospect of my own; and where
the dickens, neighbours, could I find a better spot for a good
prospect than the top of Knockmany? As for water, I am sinking a
pump, and, plase goodness, as soon as the Causeway's made, I intend
to finish it."