Part 28

“In this wood,” said the forester; “but do you bring your comrade to help you against the Dun Ox; by no chance can you slay him alone. The Dun Ox has only one eye, and that in the middle of his forehead; over that eye is a shield of white metal; from that shield two bars of iron run back to the tail of the ox. Behind him, two champions are on guard always; and when any one nears him, the ox sniffs the stranger, and roars; the champions lean on the bars then, and raise up the shield. When the one eye of the ox sees the person approaching, that moment the person falls dead. What are your chances of slaying that ox? Go back for your comrade.”

“I will not,” said Faolan; “the ox will fall by me, or I by the ox.”

“It is you that will fall,” said the forester.

Faolan entered the cabin, where the forester treated him well. Next morning the forester showed the path that lay toward the place where the ox was. Faolan had not gone far when the ox roared, and, looking in the direction of the roar, he saw the two champions just seizing the bars to raise up the shield, so, failing other means, he sent the ball, with a well-aimed cast, and crushed in the forehead of the ox through the shield. The ox fell dead, but, before falling, his eye turned on Faolan, who dropped dead also.

Dyeermud slept a hero’s sleep of seven days and seven nights. When he woke, and found no tidings of Faolan, he was furious; but the four champions calmed him; and the young woman said, “The wild hag may have killed him; but if as much as one bone of his body can be found, I will bring him to life again.”

Dyeermud, Faolan’s betrothed, and her four brothers set out, and, coming to the battle-field, found the army of the wild hag slain, but no trace of Faolan. They went to the well then, and saw the split head there.

The six went to Gray Fort, and found the cat dead, the hind-part in one place, the fore-part in a second, and the head in a third.

“The head must have sent him to the Kitten of Cul MacKip,” said the young woman; “that kitten has twice as much witch power as the cat and the old hag; all three are sisters.”

They went farther, and, finding the kitten dead, went to find the Dun Ox; “for Faolan must be dead near him,” said the young woman. When they came to his cabin, the forester greeted them, and gave a hundred thousand welcomes to Dyeermud, who was surprised, and inquired, “How do you know me? I have never been in this country before.”

“I know you well; for I saw you two years ago in combat with the Champion of the Eastern World on Ventry Strand. Many persons were looking at that combat, but you did not see them. I was there with the others.”

“Have you seen a young champion pass this way?” asked Dyeermud.

“I have,” said the forester; “but he must have perished by the Dun Ox, for I have not heard the ox bellow this long time.”

The six spent that night at the forester’s cabin; and, setting out next morning early, they soon found Faolan. The young woman bathed him with some fluid from a vial, and, opening his mouth, poured the rest down his throat. He rose up at once, as sound and healthy as ever. All went to the ox, which they found lying dead, and the two champions also; and, searching about, they found the brazen ball sunk in the earth some distance away. Faolan took it up carefully. They went back to the forester’s cabin, and enjoyed themselves well.

“Do you know where the Mountain of Happiness is?” inquired Dyeermud of the forester, during the night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your head is mine,” answered Dyeermud.

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

“I want lodging for myself and my company.”

“You will get that,” said the giant.

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

“Why is this?” asked the giant.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I promise,” said Dyeermud.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We will,” answered Dyeermud.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cut off my head,” said the forester.

“I will not,” replied Dyeermud.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who are you?” inquired Fin.

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

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

“I want whatever I ask.”

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

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

“You may,” answered Fin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will indeed,” said Dyeermud.

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

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