{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_29311/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_29311","id":"gutenberg_29311","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/29311","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Fairy tales -- Ireland"],"text":"Produced by David Edwards, Dan Horwood and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This\nfile was produced from images generously made available\nby The Internet Archive)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nIRISH FAIRY TALES\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: IRISH\nFAIRY TALES\n\nBY\nEDMUND.\nLEAMY.\n\nPictured by.\nS.W. Fazain.\n\nM.A. GILL & SON. LTD\nPUBLISHERS\nDUBLIN. 1906]\n\n\n\n\nM. H. Gill & Son, Ltd.,\nDublin.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n                                                        PAGE\n  PREFACE,                                               vii\n  NOTE,                                                   xi\n  Princess Finola and the Dwarf,                           1\n  The House in the Lake,                                  19\n  The Little White Cat,                                   41\n  The Golden Spears,                                      63\n  The Fairy Tree of Dooros,                               82\n  The Enchanted Cave,                                    101\n  The Huntsman's Son,                                    124\n  Notes,                                                 145\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nThe author of the tales contained in this volume was one of the\nbrightest and most poetic spirits who have appeared in Ireland in the\nlast half century. It is needless to say that he was also one of the\nmost patriotic Irishmen of his generation--patriotic in the highest\nand widest sense of that term, loving with an ardent love his country,\nits people, its historic traditions, its hills and plains, its lakes\nand streams, its raths and mounds. Like all men of his type, he lived\nlargely in the past, and his fancy revelled much in fairy scenes of\nchildhood and youth.\n\nThe distractions of political life, into which he entered with\ncharacteristic enthusiasm, prevented Edmund Leamy from cultivating his\nfavourite field of literature with that assiduity and sustained\napplication necessary for the purpose of bringing out the really\ngreat intellectual powers with which he was endowed; otherwise, he\nwould certainly have left to Ireland a large body of literature which\nwould have been the delight of old and young. But in this volume he\nhas given at least an indication of what he was capable of doing\ntowards that end. No one can read these pages without feeling the\ncharm of a fine and delicate fancy, a rare power of poetic expression,\nand a genuinely Irish instinct; without feeling also an intense regret\nthat the mind and heart from which they proceeded were stilled in\ndeath long before the powers of his genius could have been exhausted.\n\nTo myself, as one of the most intimate friends of Edmund Leamy, it is\na melancholy pleasure to have the privilege of writing these few words\nof introduction to a volume which, for the purpose of preserving his\nmemory amongst his countrymen, needs no introduction at all. The\nclaims of a long friendship, the knowledge of as stainless a life as\nhas ever been lived, and admiration for moral and intellectual\nendowments of the rarest character, render it easy to praise. But I do\nnot think that I indulge in undue expectation in predicting that the\nnew audience to which this volume will come will rise from its perusal\nwith something of the feelings of love, admiration, and regret which\nthose who knew Edmund Leamy personally will ever cherish in their\nhearts.\n\n                                                J. E. REDMOND.\n\n  DUBLIN, _June 2nd, 1906_.\n\n\n\n\nNOTE.\n\n\nWhen the friends of the late Edmund Leamy were considering ways of\nhonouring his memory they agreed that one way should be to republish\nthis little book of Irish fairy tales. They knew that nothing would\nhave been more grateful to himself, and that, in a manner, it would be\nan act of justice to his remarkable gifts. It would introduce a\ncharacteristic specimen of Leamy's work to a race of readers who have\nappeared since it was written and who ought to be in a mood more\nappreciative of such literature than the mood which prevailed in that\nday. For the book has long been out of print. These \"Irish Fairy\nTales\" were written, and printed on Irish paper, and published through\nan Irish publisher--Leamy would not bring out a book in any other\nway--before the Celtic renaissance had arrived. This is one of the\nfacts which make them interesting. Perhaps, as some would tell us,\nseventeen years ago was a benighted time; at any rate we must admit it\nwas rather dark from an Irish literary, or even \"Irish Ireland,\"\npoint of view. It was before the Gaelic movement, and before we had\nsuch things as \"intellectuals\" and the \"economic man,\" or even the\nIrish Literary Theatre. Leamy's gentle and loyal soul could have taken\nno influence from the asperity of some of the intervening ferment,\n\"Parliamentarian\" though he was. Had the impulse to write this volume\ncome to him in this later period he would only have drawn from the\ntime the nourishment which the atmosphere of sympathy always brings to\nthe artist. But the impulse came to him before this period, in an\natmosphere which held little that could nourish the sentiment so\nabundant among us to-day. O'Curry's and Dr. Joyce's books were almost\nthe only sources of Gaelic inspiration open to a writer who was not a\nprofessed student. Douglas Hyde, though always at work, had not yet\nbrought the fruits of his researches to light; Miss Eleanor Hull had\nnot collected into a handy volume the materials of \"The Cuchullin\nSaga\"; Kuno Meyer we did not know; Standish O'Grady, though he had\npublished his \"Heroic Period,\" had not yet begun popularising the\nbardic tales in such volumes as \"Finn and his Companions.\" No one was\nreading anything about Ireland but political matter. I think one may\nfairly claim some respect from this later day for a writer who\nseventeen years ago, of his own motion, with scarce a word of\nencouragement save from his wife and a friend or two--perhaps only one\nfriend--turned to our Gaelic past and strove to give to Irish children\nsomething which would implant in them a love for the beauty and\ndignity of their country's traditions.\n\nThe modest author would never have claimed for these little tales the\ninterest which I think they deserve. He wrote them for children, for\nhe loved children, and one can detect the presence of the child\nlistener at nearly every line. He was not thinking of a literary\naudience; the child at his knee was enough. This is why we hear\n(occasionally) a certain _naive_ accent which will not, perhaps,\nplease the contemporary critic; but (as there are many who again find\npleasure in early Victorian furniture) it may please others; I confess\nit pleases me. And the absence of literary self-consciousness is\nitself pleasant; indeed, much of the charm of these stories is the\ncharm of their unpremeditated art. But, though he did not write for\nthe critics, Leamy was in spite of himself a man of letters. He was so\ngenuinely an artist that he could not do the thing ill. Any one of\nthese stories will prove his capacity: the first, for instance, about\nthat princess on the \"bare, brown, lonely moor\" who was \"as sweet and\nas fresh as an opening rosebud, and her voice was as musical as the\nwhisper of a stream in the woods in the hot days of summer.\" There is\nnot a flaw in it. It is so filled with simple beauty and tenderness,\nand there is so much of the genuine word-magic in its language, that\none is carried away as by the spell of natural oratory. It has, too,\nthat intimate sympathy with nature which is another racial note in\nthese stories. The enchanted moor, with its silence, where no sound is\nheard--the wind which shouted beyond the mountains, \"when it sped\nacross the moor it lost its voice, and passed as silently as the\ndead\"--is affected by the fortune of the tale equally with its human\nand its elfin personages. When the knight arrives at last, \"wherever\nhis horse's hoofs struck the ground, grass and flowers sprang up, and\ngreat trees with leafy branches rose on every side.... As they rode on\nbeneath the leafy trees from every tree the birds sang out, for the\nspell of silence over the lonely moor was broken for ever.\" This\nunpretentious story, a child's story, is as engaging as a gem. And so,\nI think, are most of the others. One more example to illustrate the\nquality of Leamy's style--say, the description of the contest of the\nbards before the High King at the Feis of Tara in the story called\n\"The Huntsman's Son.\" The King gives the signal, the chief bard of\nErin ascends the mound in front of the royal enclosure, and is greeted\nwith a roar of cheers; but at the first note of his harp there is\nsilence like that of night.\n\n    \"As he moved his fingers softly over the strings every heart\n    was hushed, filled with a sense of balmy rest. The lark,\n    soaring and singing above his head, paused mute and motionless\n    in the still air, and no sound was heard over the spacious\n    plain save the dreamy music. Then the bard struck another key,\n    and a gentle sorrow possessed the hearts of his hearers, and\n    unbidden tears gathered to their eyes. Then, with bolder hand,\n    he swept his fingers across his lyre, and all hearts were\n    moved to joy and pleasant laughter, and eyes that had been\n    dimmed by tears sparkled as brightly as running waters dancing\n    in the sun. When the last notes had died away a cheer arose,\n    loud as the voice of the storm in the glen when the live\n    thunder is revelling on the mountain tops.\"\n\nAs soon as the bard descends the mound the Skald from the northern\nlands takes his place, amid shouts of welcome.\n\n    \"He touched his harp, and in the perfect silence was heard the\n    strains of the mermaid's song, and through it the pleasant\n    ripple of summer waters on the pebbly beach. Then the theme\n    was changed, and on the air was borne the measured sweep of\n    countless oars and the swish of waters around the prows of\n    contending galleys, and the breezy voices of the sailors and\n    the sea-bird's cry. Then his theme was changed to the mirth\n    and laughter of the banquet hall, the clang of meeting\n    drinking-horns and songs of battle. When the last strain\n    ended, from the mighty host a great shout went up loud as the\n    roar of winter billows breaking in the hollows of the shore.\"\n\nThen comes the hero of the tale, Fergus, the huntsman's son.\n\n    \"He touched his harp with gentle fingers, and a sound, low and\n    soft as a faint summer breeze passing through forest trees,\n    stole out, and then was heard the rustle of birds through the\n    branches, and the dreamy murmur of waters lost in deepest\n    woods, and all the fairy echoes whispering when the leaves are\n    motionless in the noonday heat; then followed notes, cool and\n    soft as the drip of summer showers on the parched grass, and\n    then the song of the blackbird sounding as clearly as it\n    sounds in long silent spaces of the evening, and then in one\n    sweet jocund burst the multitudinous voices that hail the\n    breaking of the morn. And the lark, singing and soaring above\n    the minstrel, sank mute and motionless upon his shoulder, and\n    from all the leafy woods the birds came thronging out and\n    formed a fluttering canopy above his head.\n\n    \"When the bard ceased playing no shout arose from the mighty\n    multitude, for the strains of his harp, long after its chords\n    were stilled, held their hearts spell-bound.\"\n\nThis passage reveals the poetry of the author's style, and it shows\nhow charged it is with qualities that are peculiar to the Celtic\ntemperament: a style in which expressions like \"the song of the\nblackbird sounding as clearly as it sounds in long silent spaces of\nthe evening,\" or \"she answered his salute by a wave of her little\nhand, that was as white as a wild rose in the hedges in June,\" spring\nup naturally, like daisies in the grass, at every turn. I have said\nenough, too, to indicate the type of Celtic temperament to which\nLeamy's belonged. His habitual mood was the exquisitely sensitive, the\ntender, playful, reverent mood. He was, in this, the antithesis of the\n\"cloudy and lightning\" Standish O'Grady, whose temperament, equally\nGaelic, is that of the fighting bard, delighting in battle, fierce,\nfuliginous, aristocratic, pagan, with the roll of Homeric hexameters\nin his martial style. If O'Grady recalls the Oisin who contended with\nPatrick and longed to be slaying with the Fianna, even though they\nwere in hell, Leamy, _anima naturaliter Christiana_, reminds one\nrather of the Irish monk in a distant land moved to write lyrics in\nhis missal by the song of the bird that makes him think of Erin, or\nMarban, the hermit, rejoicing to his brother, the king, in his\n\"sheiling in the wood,\" his\n\n    \"Tree of apples like a hostel vast, ...\n    The music of the bright red-breasted men, ...\n    Swarms of bees and chafers, the little musicians of the world,\n    A gentle chorus.\"\n\nIt may not be amiss, in concluding this note, to add a word about\nthe author other than as he appears in this book. These stories\nexhibit only one aspect of his gifts. They happen to be one of the\nthings he wrote down. Most of the coinage of his mind, and I think\nthe best of it, came forth in a form which does not permit of its\nbeing recalled, the form of the spoken and unrecorded word. He was by\nnature an improvisor. In the inclusive sense of the term, the sense\nwhich includes poetry, story-telling, description as well as pleading\nand exhortation, he was a born orator; and he was at his best when\nin the glow of pure improvisation. It thus happened that it was\noften a group of friends around a fireside, or a casual audience, who\nwere the witnesses of the most brilliant play of his genius. He had\na most observant and seeing eye. A walk in the street was fraught\nwith surprise, and he would come back delighted with his adventures.\nEvery little common incident--three little boys with their backs\nto a wall looking up at a church tower: he would catch snatches of\ntheir talk, speculations about deep things and strange; he would\nnote that an old Irish apple-woman in a grimy English town left her\nbasket, with all her stock-in-trade, outside in the street while\nshe went into a church to commune with her heavenly friends; the\nconversation between a sapient publican, a friendly constable and\na group of dubious _bona fide_ travellers--such things were materials\nfor his insight or his fancy or his delightful humour. Often when he\nreturned in the evening full of his day's observations one wished\nthere had been a shorthand-writer present to take down what fell\nfrom his lips. And just as it fell it would have been literature. He\nwas urged to write these things. But Leamy had not readily the will\nor the power to compel his spirit when the favoured moment had\npassed. He was mostly passive, like an AEolian harp, under the\nvisitation. Ill-health, too, extreme and distressing, burdened\nhim. He bore his trials cheerfully, and strove manfully to write,\nespecially in his later days when the power and the will seemed to\ncome to him just as illness tightened its hold. But he was sustained\nby the most precious of blessings--a wife with a brave and bright\nsoul, who appreciated him, and had a heart as romantic as his own.\nTheir love, indeed, was an idyll, untouched by a shadow, through\nillness and pain and hardship, to the hour of his death.\n\nOne ventures to wish that this little book may make his kindly Irish\nspirit friends among a wider circle, and especially amongst the\nchildren.\n\n                                                      T. P. G.\n\n\n\n\nFAIRY TALES.\n\n\n\n\nPRINCESS FINOLA AND THE DWARF.\n\n\nA long, long time ago there lived in a little hut in the midst of a\nbare, brown, lonely moor an old woman and a young girl. The old woman\nwas withered, sour-tempered, and dumb. The young girl was as sweet and\nas fresh as an opening rosebud, and her voice was as musical as the\nwhisper of a stream in the woods in the hot days of summer. The little\nhut, made of branches woven closely together, was shaped like a\nbeehive. In the centre of the hut a fire burned night and day from\nyear's end to year's end, though it was never touched or tended by\nhuman hand. In the cold days and nights of winter it gave out light\nand heat that made the hut cosy and warm, but in the summer nights and\ndays it gave out light only. With their heads to the wall of the hut\nand their feet towards the fire were two sleeping-couches--one of\nplain woodwork, in which slept the old woman; the other was Finola's.\nIt was of bog-oak, polished as a looking-glass, and on it were carved\nflowers and birds of all kinds, that gleamed and shone in the light\nof the fire. This couch was fit for a princess, and a princess Finola\nwas, though she did not know it herself.\n\nOutside the hut the bare, brown, lonely moor stretched for miles on\nevery side, but towards the east it was bounded by a range of\nmountains that looked to Finola blue in the daytime, but which put on\na hundred changing colours as the sun went down. Nowhere was a house\nto be seen, nor a tree, nor a flower, nor sign of any living thing.\nFrom morning till night, nor hum of bee, nor song of bird, nor voice\nof man, nor any sound fell on Finola's ear. When the storm was in the\nair the great waves thundered on the shore beyond the mountains, and\nthe wind shouted in the glens; but when it sped across the moor it\nlost its voice, and passed as silently as the dead. At first the\nsilence frightened Finola, but she got used to it after a time, and\noften broke it by talking to herself and singing.\n\nThe only other person beside the old woman Finola ever saw was a dumb\ndwarf who, mounted on a broken-down horse, came once a month to the\nhut, bringing with him a sack of corn for the old woman and Finola.\nAlthough he couldn't speak to her, Finola was always glad to see the\ndwarf and his old horse, and she used to give them cake made with\nher own white hands. As for the dwarf he would have died for the\nlittle princess, he was so much in love with her, and often and often\nhis heart was heavy and sad as he thought of her pining away in the\nlonely moor.\n\nIt chanced that he came one day, and she did not, as usual, come out\nto greet him. He made signs to the old woman, but she took up a stick\nand struck him, and beat his horse and drove him away; but as he was\nleaving he caught a glimpse of Finola at the door of the hut, and saw\nthat she was crying. This sight made him so very miserable that he\ncould think of nothing else but her sad face that he had always seen\nso bright, and he allowed the old horse to go on without minding where\nhe was going. Suddenly he heard a voice saying: \"It is time for you to\ncome.\"\n\nThe dwarf looked, and right before him, at the foot of a green hill,\nwas a little man not half as big as himself, dressed in a green jacket\nwith brass buttons, and a red cap and tassel.\n\n\"It is time for you to come,\" he said the second time; \"but you are\nwelcome, anyhow. Get off your horse and come in with me, that I may\ntouch your lips with the wand of speech, that we may have a talk\ntogether.\"\n\nThe dwarf got off his horse and followed the little man through a hole\nin the side of a green hill. The hole was so small that he had to go\non his hands and knees to pass through it, and when he was able to\nstand he was only the same height as the little fairyman. After\nwalking three or four steps they were in a splendid room, as bright as\nday. Diamonds sparkled in the roof as stars sparkle in the sky when\nthe night is without a cloud. The roof rested on golden pillars, and\nbetween the pillars were silver lamps, but their light was dimmed by\nthat of the diamonds. In the middle of the room was a table, on which\nwere two golden plates and two silver knives and forks, and a brass\nbell as big as a hazelnut, and beside the table were two little chairs\ncovered with blue silk and satin.\n\n[Illustration: \"The dwarf followed the little man through a hole in the\nside of a green hill\"--p. 3.]\n\n\"Take a chair,\" said the fairy, \"and I will ring for the wand of\nspeech.\"\n\nThe dwarf sat down, and the fairyman rang the little brass bell, and\nin came a little weeny dwarf no bigger than your hand.\n\n\"Bring me the wand of speech,\" said the fairy, and the weeny dwarf\nbowed three times and walked out backwards, and in a minute he\nreturned, carrying a little black wand with a red berry at the top of\nit, and, giving it to the fairy, he bowed three times and walked out\nbackwards as he had done before.\n\nThe little man waved the rod three times over the dwarf, and struck\nhim once on the right shoulder and once on the left shoulder, and\nthen touched his lips with the red berry, and said: \"Speak!\"\n\nThe dwarf spoke, and he was so rejoiced at hearing the sound of his\nown voice that he danced about the room.\n\n\"Who are you at all, at all?\" said he to the fairy.\n\n\"Who is yourself?\" said the fairy. \"But come, before we have any talk\nlet us have something to eat, for I am sure you are hungry.\"\n\nThen they sat down to table, and the fairy rang the little brass bell\ntwice, and the weeny dwarf brought in two boiled snails in their\nshells, and when they had eaten the snails he brought in a dormouse,\nand when they had eaten the dormouse he brought in two wrens, and when\nthey had eaten the wrens he brought in two nuts full of wine, and they\nbecame very merry, and the fairyman sang \"Cooleen dhas,\" and the dwarf\nsang \"The little blackbird of the glen.\"\n\n\"Did you ever hear the 'Foggy Dew?'\" said the fairy.\n\n\"No,\" said the dwarf.\n\n\"Well, then, I'll give it to you; but we must have some more wine.\"\n\nAnd the wine was brought, and he sang the \"Foggy Dew,\" and the dwarf\nsaid it was the sweetest song he had ever heard, and that the\nfairyman's voice would coax the birds off the bushes.\n\n\"You asked me who I am?\" said the fairy.\n\n\"I did,\" said the dwarf.\n\n\"And I asked you who is yourself?\"\n\n\"You did,\" said the dwarf.\n\n\"And who are you, then?\"\n\n\"Well, to tell the truth, I don't know,\" said the dwarf, and he\nblushed like a rose.\n\n\"Well, tell me what you know about yourself.\"\n\n\"I remember nothing at all,\" said the dwarf, \"before the day I found\nmyself going along with a crowd of all sorts of people to the great\nfair of the Liffey. We had to pass by the king's palace on our way,\nand as we were passing the king sent for a band of jugglers to come\nand show their tricks before him. I followed the jugglers to look on,\nand when the play was over the king called me to him, and asked me who\nI was and where I came from. I was dumb then, and couldn't answer; but\neven if I could speak I could not tell him what he wanted to know, for\nI remember nothing of myself before that day. Then the king asked the\njugglers, but they knew nothing about me, and no one knew anything,\nand then the king said he would take me into his service; and the only\nwork I have to do is to go once a month with a bag of corn to the hut\nin the lonely moor.\"\n\n\"And there you fell in love with the little princess,\" said the fairy,\nwinking at the dwarf.\n\nThe poor dwarf blushed twice as much as he had done before.\n\n\"You need not blush,\" said the fairy; \"it is a good man's case. And\nnow tell me, truly, do you love the princess, and what would you give\nto free her from the spell of enchantment that is over her?\"\n\n\"I would give my life,\" said the dwarf.\n\n\"Well, then, listen to me,\" said the fairy. \"The Princess Finola was\nbanished to the lonely moor by the king, your master. He killed her\nfather, who was the rightful king, and would have killed Finola, only\nhe was told by an old sorceress that if he killed her he would die\nhimself on the same day, and she advised him to banish her to the\nlonely moor, and she said she would fling a spell of enchantment over\nit, and that until the spell was broken Finola could not leave the\nmoor. And the sorceress also promised that she would send an old woman\nto watch over the princess by night and by day, so that no harm should\ncome to her; but she told the king that he himself should select a\nmessenger to take food to the hut, and that he should look out for\nsome one who had never seen or heard of the princess, and whom he\ncould trust never to tell anyone anything about her; and that is the\nreason he selected you.\"\n\n\"Since you know so much,\" said the dwarf, \"can you tell me who I am,\nand where I came from?\"\n\n\"You will know that time enough,\" said the fairy. \"I have given you\nback your speech. It will depend solely on yourself whether you will\nget back your memory of who and what you were before the day you\nentered the king's service. But are you really willing to try and\nbreak the spell of enchantment and free the princess?\"\n\n\"I am,\" said the dwarf.\n\n\"Whatever it will cost you?\"\n\n\"Yes, if it cost me my life,\" said the dwarf; \"but tell me, how can\nthe spell be broken?\"\n\n\"Oh, it is easy enough to break the spell if you have the weapons,\"\nsaid the fairy.\n\n\"And what are they, and where are they?\" said the dwarf.\n\n\"The spear of the shining haft and the dark blue blade and the silver\nshield,\" said the fairy. \"They are on the farther bank of the Mystic\nLake in the Island of the Western Seas. They are there for the man who\nis bold enough to seek them. If you are the man who will bring them\nback to the lonely moor you will only have to strike the shield three\ntimes with the haft, and three times with the blade of the spear, and\nthe silence of the moor will be broken for ever, the spell of\nenchantment will be removed, and the princess will be free.\"\n\n\"I will set out at once,\" said the dwarf, jumping from his chair.\n\n\"And whatever it cost you,\" said the fairy, \"will you pay the price?\"\n\n\"I will,\" said the dwarf.\n\n\"Well, then, mount your horse, give him his head, and he will take you\nto the shore opposite the Island of the Mystic Lake. You must cross to\nthe island on his back, and make your way through the water-steeds\nthat swim around the island night and day to guard it; but woe betide\nyou if you attempt to cross without paying the price, for if you do\nthe angry water-steeds will rend you and your horse to pieces. And\nwhen you come to the Mystic Lake you must wait until the waters are as\nred as wine, and then swim your horse across it, and on the farther\nside you will find the spear and shield; but woe betide you if you\nattempt to cross the lake before you pay the price, for if you do, the\nblack Cormorants of the Western Seas will pick the flesh from your\nbones.\"\n\n\"What is the price?\" said the dwarf.\n\n\"You will know that time enough,\" said the fairy; \"but now go, and\ngood luck go with you.\"\n\nThe dwarf thanked the fairy, and said good-bye! He then threw the\nreins on his horse's neck, and started up the hill, that seemed to\ngrow bigger and bigger as he ascended, and the dwarf soon found that\nwhat he took for a hill was a great mountain. After travelling all the\nday, toiling up by steep crags and heathery passes, he reached the top\nas the sun was setting in the ocean, and he saw far below him out in\nthe waters the island of the Mystic Lake.\n\nHe began his descent to the shore, but long before he reached it the\nsun had set, and darkness, unpierced by a single star, dropped upon\nthe sea. The old horse, worn out by his long and painful journey, sank\nbeneath him, and the dwarf was so tired that he rolled off his back\nand fell asleep by his side.\n\nHe awoke at the breaking of the morning, and saw that he was almost at\nthe water's edge. He looked out to sea, and saw the island, but\nnowhere could he see the water-steeds, and he began to fear he must\nhave taken a wrong course in the night, and that the island before him\nwas not the one he was in search of. But even while he was so thinking\nhe heard fierce and angry snortings, and, coming swiftly from the\nisland to the shore, he saw the swimming and prancing steeds.\nSometimes their heads and manes only were visible, and sometimes,\nrearing, they rose half out of the water, and, striking it with their\nhoofs, churned it into foam, and tossed the white spray to the skies.\nAs they approached nearer and nearer their snortings became more\nterrible, and their nostrils shot forth clouds of vapour. The dwarf\ntrembled at the sight and sound, and his old horse, quivering in every\nlimb, moaned piteously, as if in pain. On came the steeds, until they\nalmost touched the shore, then rearing, they seemed about to spring on\nto it. The frightened dwarf turned his head to fly, and as he did so\nhe heard the twang of a golden harp, and right before him who should\nhe see but the little man of the hills, holding a harp in one hand and\nstriking the strings with the other.\n\n\"Are you ready to pay the price?\" said he, nodding gaily to the\ndwarf.\n\nAs he asked the question, the listening water-steeds snorted more\nfuriously than ever.\n\n\"Are you ready to pay the price?\" said the little man a second time.\n\nA shower of spray, tossed on shore by the angry steeds, drenched the\ndwarf to the skin, and sent a cold shiver to his bones, and he was so\nterrified that he could not answer.\n\n\"For the third and last time, are you ready to pay the price?\" asked\nthe fairy, as he flung the harp behind him and turned to depart.\n\nWhen the dwarf saw him going he thought of the little princess in the\nlonely moor, and his courage came back, and he answered bravely:\n\n\"Yes, I am ready.\"\n\nThe water-steeds, hearing his answer, and snorting with rage, struck\nthe shore with their pounding hoofs.\n\n\"Back to your waves!\" cried the little harper; and as he ran his\nfingers across his lyre, the frightened steeds drew back into the\nwaters.\n\n\"What is the price?\" asked the dwarf.\n\n\"Your right eye,\" said the fairy; and before the dwarf could say a\nword, the fairy scooped out the eye with his finger, and put it into\nhis pocket.\n\nThe dwarf suffered most terrible agony; but he resolved to bear it for\nthe sake of the little princess. Then the fairy sat down on a rock at\nthe edge of the sea, and, after striking a few notes, he began to play\nthe \"Strains of Slumber.\"\n\nThe sound crept along the waters, and the steeds, so ferocious a\nmoment before, became perfectly still. They had no longer any motion\nof their own, and they floated on the top of the tide like foam before\na breeze.\n\n\"Now,\" said the fairy, as he led the dwarf's horse to the edge of the\ntide.\n\nThe dwarf urged the horse into the water, and once out of his depth,\nthe old horse struck out boldly for the island. The sleeping\nwater-steeds drifted helplessly against him, and in a short time he\nreached the island safely, and he neighed joyously as his hoofs\ntouched solid ground.\n\nThe dwarf rode on and on, until he came to a bridle-path, and\nfollowing this, it led him up through winding lanes, bordered with\ngolden furze that filled the air with fragrance, and brought him to\nthe summit of the green hills that girdled and looked down on the\nMystic Lake. Here the horse stopped of his own accord, and the dwarf's\nheart beat quickly as his eye rested on the lake, that, clipped round\nby the ring of hills, seemed in the breezeless and sunlit air--\n\n                    \"As still as death,\n                    And as bright as life can be.\"\n\nAfter gazing at it for a long time, he dismounted, and lay at his ease\nin the pleasant grass. Hour after hour passed, but no change came over\nthe face of the waters, and when the night fell sleep closed the\neyelids of the dwarf.\n\nThe song of the lark awoke him in the early morning, and, starting up,\nhe looked at the lake, but its waters were as bright as they had been\nthe day before.\n\nTowards midday he beheld what he thought was a black cloud sailing\nacross the sky from east to west. It seemed to grow larger as it came\nnearer and nearer, and when it was high above the lake he saw it was a\nhuge bird, the shadow of whose outstretched wings darkened the waters\nof the lake; and the dwarf knew it was one of the Cormorants of the\nWestern Seas. As it descended slowly, he saw that it held in one of\nits claws a branch of a tree larger than a full-grown oak, and laden\nwith clusters of ripe red berries. It alighted at some distance from\nthe dwarf, and, after resting for a time, it began to eat the berries\nand to throw the stones into the lake, and wherever a stone fell a\nbright red stain appeared in the water. As he looked more closely at\nthe bird the dwarf saw that it had all the signs of old age, and he\ncould not help wondering how it was able to carry such a heavy tree.\n\nLater in the day, two other birds, as large as the first, but younger,\ncame up from the west and settled down beside him. They also ate the\nberries, and throwing the stones into the lake it was soon as red as\nwine.\n\nWhen they had eaten all the berries, the young birds began to pick the\ndecayed feathers off the old bird and to smooth his plumage. As soon\nas they had completed their task, he rose slowly from the hill and\nsailed out over the lake, and dropping down on the waters, dived\nbeneath them. In a moment he came to the surface, and shot up into the\nair with a joyous cry, and flew off to the west in all the vigour of\nrenewed youth, followed by the other birds.\n\nWhen they had gone so far that they were like specks in the sky, the\ndwarf mounted his horse and descended towards the lake.\n\nHe was almost at the margin, and in another minute would have plunged\nin, when he heard a fierce screaming in the air, and before he had\ntime to look up, the three birds were hovering over the lake.\n\nThe dwarf drew back frightened.\n\nThe birds wheeled over his head, and then, swooping down, they flew\nclose to the water, covering it with their wings, and uttering harsh\ncries.\n\nThen, rising to a great height, they folded their wings and dropped\nheadlong, like three rocks, on the lake, crashing its surface, and\nscattering a wine-red shower upon the hills.[1]\n\nThen the dwarf remembered what the fairy told him, that if he\nattempted to swim the lake, without paying the price, the three\nCormorants of the Western Seas would pick the flesh off his bones. He\nknew not what to do, and was about to turn away, when he heard once\nmore the twang of the golden harp, and the little fairy of the hills\nstood before him.\n\n\"Faint heart never won fair lady,\" said the little harper. \"Are you\nready to pay the price? The spear and shield are on the opposite\nbank, and the Princess Finola is crying this moment in the lonely\nmoor.\"\n\nAt the mention of Finola's name the dwarf's heart grew strong.\n\n\"Yes,\" he said; \"I am ready--win or die. What is the price?\"\n\n\"Your left eye,\" said the fairy. And as soon as said he scooped out\nthe eye, and put it in his pocket.\n\nThe poor blind dwarf almost fainted with pain.\n\n\"It's your last trial,\" said the fairy, \"and now do what I tell you.\nTwist your horse's mane round your right hand, and I will lead him to\nthe water. Plunge in, and fear not. I gave you back your speech. When\nyou reach the opposite bank you will get back your memory, and you\nwill know who and what you are.\"\n\nThen the fairy led the horse to the margin of the lake.\n\n\"In with you now, and good luck go with you,\" said the fairy.\n\nThe dwarf urged the horse. He plunged into the lake, and went down and\ndown until his feet struck the bottom. Then he began to ascend, and as\nhe came near the surface of the water the dwarf thought he saw a\nglimmering light, and when he rose above the water he saw the bright\nsun shining and the green hills before him, and he shouted with joy\nat finding his sight restored.\n\nBut he saw more. Instead of the old horse he had ridden into the lake\nhe was bestride a noble steed, and as the steed swam to the bank the\ndwarf felt a change coming over himself, and an unknown vigour in his\nlimbs.\n\nWhen the steed touched the shore he galloped up the hillside, and on\nthe top of the hill was a silver shield, bright as the sun, resting\nagainst a spear standing upright in the ground.\n\nThe dwarf jumped off, and, running towards the shield, he saw himself\nas in a looking-glass.\n\nHe was no longer a dwarf, but a gallant knight. At that moment his\nmemory came back to him, and he knew he was Conal, one of the Knights\nof the Red Branch, and he remembered now that the spell of dumbness\nand deformity had been cast upon him by the Witch of the Palace of the\nQuicken Trees.\n\nSlinging his shield upon his left arm, he plucked the spear from the\nground and leaped on to his horse. With a light heart he swam back\nover the lake, and nowhere could he see the black Cormorants of the\nWestern Seas, but three white swans floating abreast followed him to\nthe bank. When he reached the bank he galloped down to the sea, and\ncrossed to the shore.\n\nThen he flung the reins upon his horse's neck, and swifter than the\nwind the gallant horse swept on and on, and it was not long until he\nwas bounding over the enchanted moor. Wherever his hoofs struck the\nground, grass and flowers sprang up, and great trees with leafy\nbranches rose on every side.\n\nAt last the knight reached the little hut. Three times he struck the\nshield with the haft and three times with the blade of his spear. At\nthe last blow the hut disappeared, and standing before him was the\nlittle princess.\n\nThe knight took her in his arms and kissed her; then he lifted her on\nto the horse, and, leaping up before her, he turned towards the north,\nto the palace of the Red Branch Knights, and as they rode on beneath\nthe leafy trees from every tree the birds sang out, for the spell of\nsilence over the lonely moor was broken for ever.\n\n\n\n\nTHE HOUSE IN THE LAKE.[2]\n\n\nA long, long time ago there lived in a little hut, in the midst of one\nof the inland lakes of Erin, an old fisherman and his son. The hut was\nbuilt on stakes driven into the bed of the lake, and was so high above\nthe waters that even when they were stirred into waves by the wind\ncoming down from the mountains they did not reach the threshold of the\ndoor. Around, outside the hut, on a level with the floor, was a little\nwicker-work platform, and under the platform, close to the steps\nleading up to it from the water, the fisherman's curragh, made of\nwillows, covered with skins, was moored, and it was only by means of\nthe curragh that he and his son, Enda, could leave their lake\ndwelling.\n\nOn many a summer evening Enda lay stretched on the platform, watching\nthe sunset fading from the mountain-tops, and the twilight creeping\nover the waters of the lake, and it chanced that once when he was so\nengaged he heard a rustle in a clump of sedge that grew close to one\nside of the hut. He turned to where the sound came from, and what\nshould he see but an otter swimming towards him, with a little trout\nin his mouth. When the otter came up to where Enda was lying, he\nlifted his head and half his body from the water, and flung the trout\non the platform, almost at Enda's feet, and then disappeared.\n\nEnda took the little panting trout in his hand; but as he did so he\nheard, quite close to him, in the lake, a sound like that of water\nplashing upon water, and he saw the widening circles caused by a trout\nwhich had just risen to a fly; and he said to the little trout he held\nin his hand:\n\n\"I won't keep you, poor thing! Perhaps that was a little comrade come\nto look for you, and so I'll send you back to him.\"\n\nAnd saying this, he dropped the little trout into the lake.\n\nWell, when the next evening came, again Enda was lying stretched\noutside the hut, and once more he heard the rustle in the sedge, and\nonce more the otter came and flung the little trout almost into his\nhands.\n\nEnda, more surprised than ever, did not know what to do. He saw that\nit was the same little trout the otter had brought him the night\nbefore, and he said:\n\n\"Well, I gave you a chance last night. I'll give you another, if only\nto see what will come of it.\"\n\nAnd he dropped the trout into the lake; but no sooner had it touched\nthe waters than it was changed into a beautiful, milk-white swan. And\nEnda could hardly believe his eyes, as he saw it sailing across the\nlake, until it was lost in the sedges growing by the shore.\n\nAll that night he lay awake, thinking of what he had seen, and as soon\nas the morning stood on the hill-tops, and cast its shafts of golden\nlight across the lake, Enda rose and got into his curragh.\n\nHe rowed all round the shores, beating the sedges with his oar, in\npursuit of the swan; but all in vain; he could not catch a glimpse of\nher white plumage anywhere. Day after day he rowed about the lake in\nsearch of her, and every evening he lay outside the hut watching the\nwaters. At long last, one night, when the full moon, rising above the\nmountains, flooded the whole lake with light, he saw the swan coming\nswiftly towards him, shining brighter than the moonbeams. The swan\ncame on until it was almost within a boat's length of the hut; and\nwhat should Enda hear but the swan speaking to him in his own\nlanguage:\n\n\"Get into your curragh, Enda, and follow me,\" said she, and, saying\nthis, she turned round and sailed away.\n\nEnda jumped into the curragh, and soon the water, dripping from his\noar, was flashing like diamonds in the moonlight. And he rowed after\nthe swan, who glided on before him, until she came to where the\nshadows of the mountains lay deepest on the lake. Then the swan\nrested, and when Enda came up to her:\n\n\"Enda,\" said she, \"I have brought you where none may hear what I wish\nto say to you. I am Mave, the daughter of the king of Erin. By the\nmagic arts of my cruel stepmother I was changed into a trout, and cast\ninto this lake a year and a day before the evening when you restored\nme to the waters the second time. If you had not done so the first\nnight the otter brought me to you I should have been changed into a\nhooting owl; if you had not done so the second night, I should have\nbeen changed into a croaking raven. But, thanks to you, Enda, I am now\na snow-white swan, and for one hour on the first night of every full\nmoon the power of speech is and will be given to me as long as I\nremain a swan. And a swan I must always remain, unless you are willing\nto break the spell of enchantment that is over me; and you alone can\nbreak it.\"\n\n\"I'll do anything I can for you. O princess!\" said Enda. \"But how can\nI break the spell?\"\n\n\"You can do so,\" said the swan, \"only by pouring upon my plumage the\nperfumed water that fills the golden bowl that is in the inmost room\nof the palace of the fairy queen, beneath the lake.\"\n\n\"And how can I get that?\" said Enda.\n\n\"Well,\" said the swan, \"you must dive beneath the lake, and walk along\nits bed, until you come to where the lake dragon guards the entrance\nof the fairy queen's dominions.\"\n\n\"I can dive like a fish,\" said Enda; \"but how can I walk beneath the\nwaters?\"\n\n\"You can do it easily enough,\" said the swan, \"if you get the\nwater-dress of Brian, one of the three sons of Turenn, and his helmet\nof transparent crystal, by the aid of which he was able to walk under\nthe green salt sea.\"[3]\n\n\"And where shall I find them?\"\n\n\"They are in the water-palace of Angus of the Boyne,\" said the swan;\n\"but you should set out at once, for if the spell be not broken before\nthe moon is full again, it cannot be broken for a year and a day.\"\n\n\"I'll set out in the first ray of the morning,\" said Enda.\n\n\"May luck and joy go with you,\" said the swan. \"And now the hours of\nsilence are coming upon me, and I have only time to warn you that\ndangers you little dream of will lie before you in your quest for the\ngolden cup.\"\n\n\"I am willing to face all dangers for your sake, O princess,\" said\nEnda.\n\n\"Blessings be upon you, Enda,\" said the swan, and she sailed away from\nthe shadow out into the light across the lake to the sedgy banks. And\nEnda saw her no more.\n\nHe rowed his curragh home, and he lay on his bed without taking off\nhis clothes. And as the first faint glimmer of the morning came\nslanting down the mountains, he stepped into his curragh and pulled\nacross the lake, and took the road towards the water-palace of Angus\nof the Boyne.\n\nWhen he reached the banks of the glancing river a little woman,\ndressed in red, was standing there before him.\n\n\"You are welcome, Enda,\" said she. \"And glad am I to see the day that\nbrings you here to help the winsome Princess Mave. And now wait a\nsecond, and the water-dress and crystal helmet will be ready for\nyou.\"\n\nAnd, having said this, the little woman plucked a handful of wild\ngrasses, and she breathed upon them three times and then flung them on\nthe river, and a dozen fairy nymphs came springing up through the\nwater, bearing the water-dress and crystal helmet and a shining spear.\nAnd they laid them down upon the bank at Enda's feet, and then\ndisappeared.\n\n\"Now, Enda,\" said the fairy woman, \"take these; by the aid of the\ndress and the helmet you can walk beneath the waters. You will need\nthe spear to enable you to meet the dangers that lie before you. But\nwith that spear, if you only have courage, you can overcome everything\nand everyone that may attempt to bar your way.\"\n\nHaving said this, she bid good-bye to Enda, and stepping off the bank,\nshe floated out upon the river as lightly as a red poppy leaf. And\nwhen she came to the middle of the stream she disappeared beneath the\nwaters.\n\nEnda took the helmet, dress, and spear, and it was not long until he\ncame to the sedgy banks where his little boat was waiting for him. As\nhe stepped into the curragh the moon was rising above the mountains.\nHe rowed on until he came to the hut, and having moored the boat to\nthe door, he put on the water-dress and the crystal helmet, and taking\nthe spear in his hand, he leaped over the side of the curragh, and\nsank down and down until he touched the bottom. Then he walked along\nwithout minding where he was going, and the only light he had was the\nshimmering moonlight, which descended as faintly through the waters as\nif it came through muffled glass. He had not gone very far when he\nheard a horrible hissing, and straight before him he saw what he\nthought were two flaming coals. After a few more steps he found\nhimself face to face with the dragon of the lake, the guardian of the\npalace of the fairy queen. Before he had time to raise his spear, the\ndragon had wound its coils around him, and he heard its horrible\nteeth crunching against the side of his crystal helmet, and he felt\nthe pressure of its coils around his side, and the breath almost left\nhis body; but the dragon, unable to pierce the helmet, unwound his\ncoils, and soon Enda's hands were free, and before the dragon could\nattempt to seize him again, he drove his spear through one of its\nfiery eyes, and, writhing with pain, the hissing dragon darted through\na cave behind him. Enda, gaining courage from the dragon's flight,\nmarched on until he came to a door of dull brass set in the rocks. He\ntried to push it in before him, but he might as well have tried to\npush away the rocks. While he was wondering what he should do, he\nheard again the fierce hissing of the dragon, and saw the red glare of\nhis fiery eye dimly in the water.\n\nLifting his spear and hastily turning round to meet the furious\nmonster, Enda accidently touched the door with the point of the spear,\nand the door flew open. Enda passed through, and the door closed\nbehind him with a grating sound, and he marched along through a rocky\npass which led to a sandy plain.\n\nAs he stepped from the pass into the plain the sands began to move, as\nif they were alive. In a second a thousand hideous serpents, almost\nthe colour of the sand, rose hissing up, and with their forked\ntongues made a horrible, poisonous hedge in front of him. For a second\nhe stood dismayed, but then, levelling his spear, he rushed against\nthe hedge of serpents, and they, shooting poison at him, sank beneath\nthe sand. But the poison did not harm him, because of his water-dress\nand crystal helmet.\n\nWhen he had passed over the sandy plain, he had to climb a great\nsteep, jagged rock. When he got to the top of the rock he saw spread\nout before him a stony waste without a tuft or blade of grass. At some\ndistance in front of him he noticed a large dark object, which he took\nto be a rock, but on looking at it more closely he saw that it was a\nhuge, misshapen, swollen mass, apparently alive. And it was growing\nbigger and bigger every moment. Enda stood amazed at the sight, and\nbefore he knew where he was the loathsome creature rose from the\nground, and sprang upon him before he could use his spear, and,\ncatching him in its horrid grasp, flung him back over the rocks on to\nthe sandy plain. Enda was almost stunned, but the hissing of the\nserpents rising from the sand around him brought him to himself, and,\njumping to his feet, once more he drove them down beneath the surface.\nHe then approached the jagged rock, on the top of which he saw the\nfilthy monster glaring at him with bloodshot eyes. Enda poised his\nspear and hurled it against his enemy. It entered between the\nmonster's eyes, and from the wound the blood flowed down like a black\ntorrent and dyed the plain, and the shrunken carcase slipped down the\nfront of the rocks and disappeared beneath the sand. Enda once more\nascended the rock, and without meeting or seeing anything he passed\nover the stony waste, and at last he came to a leafy wood. He had not\ngone far in the wood until he heard the sound of fairy music, and\nwalking on he came upon a mossy glade, and there he found the fairies\ndancing around their queen. They were so small, and were all so\nbrightly dressed, that they looked like a mass of waving flowers; but\nwhen he was seen by them they vanished like a glorious dream, and no\none remained before him but the fairy queen. The queen blushed at\nfinding herself alone, but on stamping her little foot three times\nupon the ground, the frightened fairies all crept back again.\n\n\"You are welcome, Enda,\" said the queen. \"My little subjects have been\nalarmed by your strange dress and crystal helmet. I pray you take them\noff; you do not need them here.\"\n\nEnda did as he was bidden, and he laid down his water-dress and helmet\non the grass, and the little fairies, seeing him in his proper shape,\ngot over their fright, and, unrestrained by the presence of the\nqueen, they ran tumbling over one another to try and get a good look\nat the crystal helmet.\n\n\"I know what you have come for, Enda,\" said the queen. \"The golden cup\nyou shall have to-morrow; but to-night you must share our feast, so\nfollow me to the palace.\"\n\nHaving said this, the queen beckoned her pages to her, and, attended\nby them and followed by Enda, she went on through the wood. When they\nhad left it behind them Enda saw on a green hill before him the\nsnow-white palace of the fairy queen.\n\nAs the queen approached the steps that led up to the open door, a band\nof tiny fairies, dressed in rose-coloured silk, came out, carrying\nbaskets of flowers, which they flung down on the steps to make a\nfragrant carpet for her. They were followed by a band of harpers\ndressed in yellow silken robes, who ranged themselves on each side of\nthe steps and played their sweetest music as the queen ascended.\n\nWhen the queen, followed by Enda, entered the palace, they passed\nthrough a crystal hall that led to a banquet-room. The room was\nlighted by a single star, large as a battle-shield. It was fixed\nagainst the wall above a diamond throne.\n\nThe queen seated herself upon the throne, and the pages, advancing\ntowards her, and bending low, as they approached the steps, handed\nher a golden wand.\n\nThe queen waved the wand three times, and a table laden with all kinds\nof delicacies appeared upon the floor. Then she beckoned Enda to her,\nand when he stood beside her the fairy table was no higher than his\nknee.\n\n\"I am afraid I must make you smaller, Enda,\" said the queen, \"or you\nwill never be able to seat yourself at my fairy table.\"\n\nAnd having said this, she touched Enda with the golden wand, and at\nonce he became as small as her tallest page. Then she struck the steps\nof her throne, and all the nobles of her court, headed by her bards,\ntook their places at the festive board.\n\nThe feast went on right merrily, and when the tiny jewelled\ndrinking-cups were placed upon the table, the queen ordered the\nharpers to play.\n\nAnd the little harpers struck the chords, and as Enda listened to the\nmusic it seemed to him as if he was being slowly lifted from his seat,\nand when the music ended the fairies vanished, the shining star went\nout, and Enda was in perfect darkness.\n\nThe air blew keenly in his face, and he knew not where he was. At last\nhe saw a faint grey light, and soon this light grew broader and\nbrighter, and as the shadows fled before it, he could hardly believe\nhis eyes when he found himself in his curragh on the lake, and the\nmoonlight streaming down from the mountain-tops.\n\nFor a moment he thought he must have been dreaming; but there in the\nboat before him were the crystal helmet, and the water-dress, and the\ngleaming spear, and the golden bowl of perfumed water that was to\nremove the spell of enchantment from the white swan of the lake, and\nsailing towards him from the sedgy bank came the snow-white swan; and\nwhen she touched the boat, Enda put out his hands and lifted her in,\nand then over her plumage he poured the perfumed water from the golden\nbowl, and the Princess Mave in all her maiden beauty stood before\nhim.\n\n\"Take your oar, Enda,\" she said, \"and row to the southern bank.\"\n\nEnda seized his oar, and the curragh sped across the waters swifter\nthan a swallow in its flight. When the boat touched the shore Enda\njumped out, and lifted the princess on to the bank.\n\n\"Send your boat adrift, Enda,\" she said; \"but first take out your\nshining spear; the water-dress and the crystal helmet will take care\nof themselves.\"\n\nEnda took out the spear, and then pushed the boat from the bank. It\nsped on towards the hut in the middle of the lake; but before it had\nreached halfway six nymphs sprang up from the water and seizing the\nhelmet and dress, sank with them beneath the tide, and the boat went\non until it pushed its prow against the steps of the little hut, where\nit remained.\n\nThen Enda and the princess turned towards the south, and it was not\nlong until they came to a deep forest, that was folding up its shadows\nand spreading out its mossy glades before the glancing footsteps of\nthe morning. They had not gone far through the forest when they heard\nthe music of hounds and the cries of huntsmen, and crashing towards\nthem through the low branches they saw a fierce wild boar. Enda,\ngently pushing the princess behind him, levelled his spear, and when\nthe boar came close to him he drove it into his throat. The brute fell\ndead at his feet, and the dogs rushing up began to tear it to pieces.\nThe princess fainted at the sight, and while Enda was endeavouring to\nrestore her, the king of Erin, followed by his huntsmen, appeared, and\nwhen the king saw the princess he started in amazement, as he\nrecognised the features of his daughter Mave.\n\nAt that moment the princess came to herself, and her father, lifting\nher tenderly in his arms, kissed her again and again.\n\n\"I have mourned you as dead, my darling,\" said he, \"and now you are\nrestored to me more lovely than ever. I would gladly have given up my\nthrone for this. But say who is the champion who has brought you\nhither, and who has slain the wild boar we have hunted so many years\nin vain?\"\n\nThe princess blushed like a rose as she said:\n\n\"His name is Enda, father; it is he has brought me back to you.\"\n\nThen the king embraced Enda and said:\n\n\"Forgive me, Enda, for asking any questions about you before you have\nshared the hospitality of my court. My palace lies beyond the forest,\nand we shall reach it soon.\"\n\nThen the king ordered his huntsman to sound the bugle-horn, and all\nhis nobles galloped up in answer to it, and when they saw the Princess\nMave they were so dazzled by her beauty that they scarcely gave a\nthought to the death of the wild boar.\n\n\"It is my daughter, Mave, come back to me,\" said the king.\n\nAnd all the nobles lowered their lances, and bowed in homage to the\nlady.\n\n\"And there stands the champion who has brought her home,\" said the\nking, pointing to Enda.\n\nThe nobles looked at Enda, and bowed courteously, but in their hearts\nthey were jealous of the champion, for they saw he was already a\nfavourite of the king's.\n\nThen the pages came up, leading milk-white steeds with golden bridles,\nand the king, ordering Enda to mount one of them, lifted Mave on to\nhis own, and mounted behind her. The pages, carrying the boar's head\non a hollow shield, preceded by the huntsmen sounding their horns, set\nout towards the palace, and the royal party followed them.\n\nAs the procession approached the palace crowds came rushing out to see\nthe trophies of the chase, and through the snow-white door the queen,\nMave's cruel stepmother, attended by her maids-of-honour and the royal\nbards, came forth to greet the king. But when she saw seated before\nhim the Princess Mave, who she thought was at the bottom of the lake\nunder a spell of enchantment, she uttered a loud cry, and fell\nsenseless to the ground.\n\nThe king jumped from his horse, and rushing to the queen, lifted her\nup and carried her in his arms to her apartments, for he had no\nsuspicion of the wickedness of which she had been guilty.\n\nAnd the court leeches were summoned to attend her, but she died that\nvery night, and it was not until a green mound, worthy of a queen of\nErin, had been raised over her grave that the Princess Mave told her\nfather of the wickedness of her stepmother. And when she told him the\nwhole story of how Enda had broken the spell of enchantment, and of\nthe dangers which he had faced for her sake, the king summoned an\nassembly of all his nobles, and seated on his throne, wearing his\ngolden helmet, the bards upon his right hand and the Druids upon his\nleft, and the nobles in ranks before him with gleaming helmets and\nflashing spears, he told them the story of the princess, and of the\nservice which Enda had rendered to her.\n\n\"And now,\" said the king, \"if the princess is willing to take her\ndeliverer for her husband, I am willing that she shall be his bride;\nand if you, my subjects, Bards and Druids and Nobles and Chiefs of\nErin, have anything to say against this union, speak. But first,\nMave,\" said the king, as he drew the blushing princess to him, \"speak,\ndarling, as becomes the daughter of a king--speak in the presence of\nthe nobles of Erin, and say if it is your wish to become Enda's\nbride.\"\n\nThe princess flung her white arms around her father's neck, as she\nmurmured:\n\n\"Father, it was Enda brought me back to you, and before all the\nprinces and nobles of Erin I am willing to be his bride.\"\n\nAnd she buried her head upon the king's breast, and as he stroked her\nsilken hair falling to her feet, the bards struck their golden harps,\nbut the sound of the joyous music could hardly drown the murmurs of\nthe jealous nobles.\n\nWhen the music ceased the king beckoned Enda to him, and was about to\nplace his hand in Mave's when a Druid, whose white beard almost\ntouched the ground, and who had been a favourite of the dead\nstepmother, and hated Mave for her sake, stepped forward and said:\n\n\"O King of Erin, never yet has the daughter of a king been freely\ngiven in marriage to any save a battle champion; and that stripling\nthere has never struck his spear against a warrior's shield.\"\n\nA murmur of approbation rose from the jealous princes, and Congal, the\nbravest of them all, stepped out from the ranks, and said:\n\n\"The Druid speaks the truth, O king! That stripling has never faced a\nbattle champion yet, and, speaking for all the nobles of your land, I\nchallenge him to fight any one of us; and as he is young and unused to\narms, we are willing that the youngest and least experienced amongst\nus should be set against him.\"\n\nWhen Congal had spoken, the nobles, in approval of his words, struck\ntheir shields with their swords, and the brazen sound ascended to the\nskies.\n\nThe face of the princess, blushing a moment before like a rose, became\nas white as a lily; but the colour returned to her cheeks when she\nheard Enda's voice ringing loud and clear.\n\n\"It is true, O king!\" said he, \"that I have never used my spear in\nbattle yet. The Prince Congal has challenged me to meet the youngest\nand least experienced of the chiefs of Erin. I have risked my life\nalready for your daughter's sake. I would face death a thousand times\nfor the chance of winning her for my bride; but I would scorn to claim\nher hand if I dared not meet the boldest battle champion of the nobles\nof Erin, and here before you, O king, and bards, Druids, and nobles,\nand chiefs of Erin, and here, in the presence of the Lady Mave, I\nchallenge the boldest of them all.\"\n\nThe king's eyes flashed with joy as he listened to the brave words of\nEnda.\n\n\"It is well,\" said the king; \"the contest shall take place to-morrow\non the lawn outside our palace gates; but before our assembly\ndissolves I call on you, nobles and chiefs of Erin, to name your\nboldest champion.\"\n\nLoud cries of \"Congal! Congal!\" answered the king's speech.\n\n\"Are you willing, Congal?\" asked the king.\n\n\"Willing, O king!\" answered Congal.\n\n\"It is well,\" said the king. \"We shall all meet again to-night in our\nbanquet-hall.\"\n\nAnd the king, with the Princess Mave on his arm, attended by his bards\nand Druids, entered the palace, and the chiefs and nobles went their\nseveral ways.\n\nAt the feast that night the princess sat beside the king, and Enda\nbeside the princess, and the bards and Druids, nobles and chiefs, took\ntheir places in due order. And the bards sang songs of love and\nbattle, and never merrier hours were spent than those which passed\naway that night in the banquet-hall of Erin's king.\n\nWhen the feast was over Enda retired to his apartment to spend the\nnight dreaming of the Princess Mave, and Congal went to his quarters;\nbut not to sleep or dream, for the Druid who had provoked the contest\ncame to him bringing his golden wand, and all night long the Druid was\nweaving spells to charm the shield and spear and helmet of Congal, to\nmake them invulnerable in the battle of the morrow.\n\nBut while Enda lay dreaming of the Princess Mave, the little fairy\nwoman who gave him the water-dress, and crystal helmet, and shining\nspear on the banks of the Boyne, slid into his room, and she placed\nbeside his couch a silver helmet and a silver shield. And she rubbed\nthe helmet, and the shield, and the blue blade and haft of his spear\nwith the juice of the red rowan berries, and she let a drop fall upon\nhis face and hands, and then she slid out as silently as she came.\n\nWhen the morning broke, Enda sprang from his couch, and he could\nhardly believe his eyes when he saw the silver shield and helmet. At\nthe sight of them he longed for the hour of battle, and he watched\nwith eager gaze the sun climbing the sky; and, after hours of\nsuspense, he heard the trumpet's sound and the clangour of the hollow\nshields, struck by the hard-pointed spears.\n\nPutting on the helmet, and fastening the shield upon his left arm, and\ntaking the spear in his right hand, he stepped out bravely to the\nfight. The edge of the lawn before the palace gates was ringed by the\nprinces, nobles, and chiefs of Erin. And the palace walls were\nthronged by all the beauties of the Court and all the noble ladies of\nthe land. And on his throne, surrounded by his Druids, his brehons,\nand his bards, was the king of Erin, and at his feet sat the lovely\nLady Mave.\n\nAs Enda stepped out upon the lawn, he saw Congal advancing from the\nranks of the nobles, and the two champions approached each other until\nthey met right in front of the throne.\n\nThen both turned towards the throne, and bowed to the king and the\nPrincess Mave; and then facing each other again, they retired a space,\nand when their spears were poised, ready for battle, the king gave the\nsignal, which was answered by the clang of stricken shields, and\nCongal and Enda launched their gleaming spears. They flashed like\nlightning in the sunlit air, and in a second Congal's had broken\nagainst Enda's shield; but Enda's, piercing Congal's helmet, hurled\nhim senseless on the plain.\n\nThe nobles and chiefs could hardly realize that in that single second\ntheir boldest champion was overthrown; but when they saw him stretched\nmotionless on the grassy sward, from out their ranks six warriors\nadvanced to where the chieftain lay, and sadly they bore him away upon\ntheir battle-shields, and Enda remained victor upon the field.\n\nAnd then the king's voice rang out clear as the sound of a trumpet in\nthe still morning:\n\n\"Bards and brehons, princes and nobles, and chiefs of Erin, Enda has\nproved himself a battle champion, and who amongst you now will dare\ngainsay his right to claim my daughter for his bride?\"\n\nAnd no answer came.\n\nBut when he summoned Enda to his throne, and placed the lady's hand in\nhis, a cheer arose from the great assembly, that proved that jealousy\nwas extinguished in all hearts, and that all believed that Enda was\nworthy of the winsome bride; and never since that day, although a\nthousand years have passed, was there in all the world a brighter and\ngayer wedding than the wedding of Enda and the Princess Mave.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LITTLE WHITE CAT\n\n\nA long, long time ago, in a valley far away, the giant Trencoss lived\nin a great castle, surrounded by trees that were always green. The\ncastle had a hundred doors, and every door was guarded by a huge,\nshaggy hound, with tongue of fire and claws of iron, who tore to\npieces anyone who went to the castle without the giant's leave.\nTrencoss had made war on the King of the Torrents, and, having killed\nthe king, and slain his people, and burned his palace, he carried off\nhis only daughter, the Princess Eileen, to the castle in the valley.\nHere he provided her with beautiful rooms, and appointed a hundred\ndwarfs, dressed in blue and yellow satin, to wait upon her, and\nharpers to play sweet music for her, and he gave her diamonds without\nnumber, brighter than the sun; but he would not allow her to go\noutside the castle, and told her if she went one step beyond its\ndoors, the hounds, with tongues of fire and claws of iron, would tear\nher to pieces. A week after her arrival, war broke out between the\ngiant and the king of the islands, and before he set out for battle,\nthe giant sent for the princess, and informed her that on his return\nhe would make her his wife. When the princess heard this she began to\ncry, for she would rather die than marry the giant who had slain her\nfather.\n\n\"Crying will only spoil your bright eyes, my little princess,\" said\nTrencoss, \"and you will have to marry me whether you like it or no.\"\n\nHe then bade her go back to her room, and he ordered the dwarfs to\ngive her everything she asked for while he was away, and the harpers\nto play the sweetest music for her. When the princess gained her room\nshe cried as if her heart would break. The long day passed slowly, and\nthe night came, but brought no sleep to Eileen, and in the grey light\nof the morning she rose and opened the window, and looked about in\nevery direction to see if there were any chance of escape. But the\nwindow was ever so high above the ground, and below were the hungry\nand ever watchful hounds. With a heavy heart she was about to close\nthe window when she thought she saw the branches of the tree that was\nnearest to it moving. She looked again, and she saw a little white cat\ncreeping along one of the branches.\n\n\"Mew!\" cried the cat.\n\n\"Poor little pussy,\" said the princess. \"Come to me, pussy.\"\n\n\"Stand back from the window,\" said the cat, \"and I will.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"'Poor little pussy,' said the Princess\"--p. 42.]\n\nThe princess stepped back, and the little white cat jumped into the\nroom. The princess took the little cat on her lap and stroked him with\nher hand, and the cat raised up its back and began to purr.\n\n\"Where do you come from, and what is your name?\" asked the princess.\n\n\"No matter where I come from or what's my name,\" said the cat, \"I am a\nfriend of yours, and I come to help you?\"\n\n\"I never wanted help worse,\" said the princess.\n\n\"I know that,\" said the cat; \"and now listen to me. When the giant\ncomes back from battle and asks you to marry him, say to him you will\nmarry him.\"\n\n\"But I will never marry him,\" said the princess.\n\n\"Do what I tell you,\" said the cat. \"When he asks you to marry him,\nsay to him you will if his dwarfs will wind for you three balls from\nthe fairy dew that lies on the bushes on a misty morning as big as\nthese,\" said the cat, putting his right forefoot into his ear and\ntaking out three balls--one yellow, one red, and one blue.\n\n\"They are very small,\" said the princess. \"They are not much bigger\nthan peas, and the dwarfs will not be long at their work.\"\n\n\"Won't they,\" said the cat. \"It will take them a month and a day to\nmake one, so that it will take three months and three days before the\nballs are wound; but the giant, like you, will think they can be made\nin a few days, and so he will readily promise to do what you ask. He\nwill soon find out his mistake, but he will keep his word, and will\nnot press you to marry him until the balls are wound.\"\n\n\"When will the giant come back?\" asked Eileen.\n\n\"He will return to-morrow afternoon,\" said the cat.\n\n\"Will you stay with me until then?\" said the princess. \"I am very\nlonely.\"\n\n\"I cannot stay,\" said the cat. \"I have to go away to my palace on the\nisland on which no man ever placed his foot, and where no man but one\nshall ever come.\"\n\n\"And where is that island?\" asked the princess, \"and who is the man?\"\n\n\"The island is in the far-off seas where vessel never sailed; the man\nyou will see before many days are over; and if all goes well, he will\none day slay the giant Trencoss, and free you from his power.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" sighed the princess, \"that can never be, for no weapon can wound\nthe hundred hounds that guard the castle, and no sword can kill the\ngiant Trencoss.\"\n\n\"There is a sword that will kill him,\" said the cat; \"but I must go\nnow. Remember what you are to say to the giant when he comes home,\nand every morning watch the tree on which you saw me, and if you see\nin the branches anyone you like better than yourself,\" said the cat,\nwinking at the princess, \"throw him these three balls and leave the\nrest to me; but take care not to speak a single word to him, for if\nyou do all will be lost.\"\n\n\"Shall I ever see you again?\" asked the princess.\n\n\"Time will tell,\" answered the cat, and, without saying so much as\ngood-bye, he jumped through the window on to the tree, and in a second\nwas out of sight.\n\nThe morrow afternoon came, and the giant Trencoss returned from\nbattle. Eileen knew of his coming by the furious barking of the\nhounds, and her heart sank, for she knew that in a few moments she\nwould be summoned to his presence. Indeed, he had hardly entered the\ncastle when he sent for her, and told her to get ready for the\nwedding. The princess tried to look cheerful, as she answered:\n\n\"I will be ready as soon as you wish; but you must first promise me\nsomething.\"\n\n\"Ask anything you like, little princess,\" said Trencoss.\n\n\"Well, then,\" said Eileen, \"before I marry you, you must make your\ndwarfs wind three balls as big as these from the fairy dew that lies\non the bushes on a misty morning in summer.\"\n\n\"Is that all?\" said Trencoss, laughing. \"I shall give the dwarfs\norders at once, and by this time to-morrow the balls will be wound,\nand our wedding can take place in the evening.\"\n\n\"And will you leave me to myself until then?\"\n\n\"I will,\" said Trencoss.\n\n\"On your honour as a giant?\" said Eileen.\n\n\"On my honour as a giant,\" replied Trencoss.\n\nThe princess returned to her rooms, and the giant summoned all his\ndwarfs, and he ordered them to go forth in the dawning of the morn and\nto gather all the fairy dew lying on the bushes, and to wind three\nballs--one yellow, one red, and one blue. The next morning, and the\nnext, and the next, the dwarfs went out into the fields and searched\nall the hedgerows, but they could gather only as much fairy dew as\nwould make a thread as long as a wee girl's eyelash; and so they had\nto go out morning after morning, and the giant fumed and threatened,\nbut all to no purpose. He was very angry with the princess, and he was\nvexed with himself that she was so much cleverer than he was, and,\nmoreover, he saw now that the wedding could not take place as soon as\nhe expected.\n\nWhen the little white cat went away from the castle he ran as fast as\nhe could up hill and down dale, and never stopped until he came to the\nPrince of the Silver River. The prince was alone, and very sad and\nsorrowful he was, for he was thinking of the Princess Eileen, and\nwondering where she could be.\n\n\"Mew,\" said the cat, as he sprang softly into the room; but the prince\ndid not heed him. \"Mew,\" again said the cat; but again the prince did\nnot heed him. \"Mew,\" said the cat the third time, and he jumped up on\nthe prince's knee.\n\n\"Where do you come from, and what do you want?\" asked the prince.\n\n\"I come from where you would like to be,\" said the cat.\n\n\"And where is that?\" said the prince.\n\n\"Oh, where is that, indeed! as if I didn't know what you are thinking\nof, and of whom you are thinking,\" said the cat; \"and it would be far\nbetter for you to try and save her.\"\n\n\"I would give my life a thousand times over for her,\" said the\nprince.\n\n\"For whom?\" said the cat, with a wink. \"I named no name, your\nhighness,\" said he.\n\n\"You know very well who she is,\" said the prince, \"if you knew what I\nwas thinking of; but do you know where she is?\"\n\n\"She is in danger,\" said the cat. \"She is in the castle of the giant\nTrencoss, in the valley beyond the mountains.\"\n\n\"I will set out there at once,\" said the prince \"and I will challenge\nthe giant to battle, and will slay him.\"\n\n\"Easier said than done,\" said the cat. \"There is no sword made by the\nhands of man can kill him, and even if you could kill him, his hundred\nhounds, with tongues of fire and claws of iron, would tear you to\npieces.\"\n\n\"Then, what am I to do?\" asked the prince.\n\n\"Be said by me,\" said the cat. \"Go to the wood that surrounds the\ngiant's castle, and climb the high tree that's nearest to the window\nthat looks towards the sunset, and shake the branches, and you will\nsee what you will see. Then hold out your hat with the silver plumes,\nand three balls--one yellow, one red, and one blue--will be thrown\ninto it. And then come back here as fast as you can; but speak no\nword, for if you utter a single word the hounds will hear you, and you\nshall be torn to pieces.\"\n\nWell, the prince set off at once, and after two days' journey he came\nto the wood around the castle, and he climbed the tree that was\nnearest to the window that looked towards the sunset, and he shook the\nbranches. As soon as he did so, the window opened and he saw the\nPrincess Eileen, looking lovelier than ever. He was going to call out\nher name, but she placed her fingers on her lips, and he remembered\nwhat the cat had told him, that he was to speak no word. In silence he\nheld out the hat with the silver plumes, and the princess threw into\nit the three balls, one after another, and, blowing him a kiss, she\nshut the window. And well it was she did so, for at that very moment\nshe heard the voice of the giant, who was coming back from hunting.\n\nThe prince waited until the giant had entered the castle before he\ndescended the tree. He set off as fast as he could. He went up hill\nand down dale, and never stopped until he arrived at his own palace,\nand there waiting for him was the little white cat.\n\n\"Have you brought the three balls?\" said he.\n\n\"I have,\" said the prince.\n\n\"Then follow me,\" said the cat.\n\nOn they went until they left the palace far behind and came to the\nedge of the sea.\n\n\"Now,\" said the cat, \"unravel a thread of the red ball, hold the\nthread in your right hand, drop the ball into the water, and you shall\nsee what you shall see.\"\n\nThe prince did as he was told, and the ball floated out to sea,\nunravelling as it went, and it went on until it was out of sight.\n\n\"Pull now,\" said the cat.\n\nThe prince pulled, and, as he did, he saw far away something on the\nsea shining like silver. It came nearer and nearer, and he saw it was\na little silver boat. At last it touched the strand.\n\n\"Now,\" said the cat, \"step into this boat and it will bear you to the\npalace on the island on which no man has ever placed his foot--the\nisland in the unknown seas that were never sailed by vessels made of\nhuman hands. In that palace there is a sword with a diamond hilt, and\nby that sword alone the giant Trencoss can be killed. There also are a\nhundred cakes, and it is only on eating these the hundred hounds can\ndie. But mind what I say to you: if you eat or drink until you reach\nthe palace of the little cat in the island in the unknown seas, you\nwill forget the Princess Eileen.\"\n\n\"I will forget myself first,\" said the prince, as he stepped into the\nsilver boat, which floated away so quickly that it was soon out of\nsight of land.\n\nThe day passed and the night fell, and the stars shone down upon the\nwaters, but the boat never stopped. On she went for two whole days and\nnights, and on the third morning the prince saw an island in the\ndistance, and very glad he was; for he thought it was his journey's\nend, and he was almost fainting with thirst and hunger. But the day\npassed and the island was still before him.\n\nAt long last, on the following day, he saw by the first light of the\nmorning that he was quite close to it, and that trees laden with\nfruit of every kind were bending down over the water. The boat sailed\nround and round the island, going closer and closer every round,\nuntil, at last, the drooping branches almost touched it. The sight of\nthe fruit within his reach made the prince hungrier and thirstier than\nhe was before, and forgetting his promise to the little cat--not to\neat anything until he entered the palace in the unknown seas--he\ncaught one of the branches, and, in a moment, was in the tree eating\nthe delicious fruit. While he was doing so the boat floated out to sea\nand soon was lost to sight; but the prince, having eaten, forgot all\nabout it, and, worse still, forgot all about the princess in the\ngiant's castle. When he had eaten enough he descended the tree, and,\nturning his back on the sea, set out straight before him. He had not\ngone far when he heard the sound of music, and soon after he saw a\nnumber of maidens playing on silver harps coming towards him. When\nthey saw him they ceased playing, and cried out:\n\n\"Welcome! welcome! Prince of the Silver River, welcome to the island\nof fruits and flowers. Our king and queen saw you coming over the sea,\nand they sent us to bring you to the palace.\"\n\nThe prince went with them, and at the palace gates the king and queen\nand their daughter Kathleen received him, and gave him welcome. He\nhardly saw the king and queen, for his eyes were fixed on the princess\nKathleen, who looked more beautiful than a flower. He thought he had\nnever seen anyone so lovely, for, of course, he had forgotten all\nabout poor Eileen pining away in her castle prison in the lonely\nvalley. When the king and queen had given welcome to the prince a\ngreat feast was spread, and all the lords and ladies of the court sat\ndown to it, and the prince sat between the queen and the princess\nKathleen, and long before the feast was finished he was over head and\nears in love with her. When the feast was ended the queen ordered the\nballroom to be made ready, and when night fell the dancing began, and\nwas kept up until the morning star, and the prince danced all night\nwith the princess, falling deeper and deeper in love with her every\nminute. Between dancing by night and feasting by day weeks went by.\nAll the time poor Eileen in the giant's castle was counting the hours,\nand all this time the dwarfs were winding the balls, and a ball and a\nhalf were already wound. At last the prince asked the king and queen\nfor their daughter in marriage, and they were delighted to be able to\nsay yes, and the day was fixed for the wedding. But on the evening\nbefore the day on which it was to take place the prince was in his\nroom, getting ready for a dance, when he felt something rubbing\nagainst his leg, and, looking down, who should he see but the little\nwhite cat. At the sight of him the prince remembered everything, and\nsad and sorry he was when he thought of Eileen watching and waiting\nand counting the days until he returned to save her. But he was very\nfond of the princess Kathleen, and so he did not know what to do.\n\n\"You can't do anything to-night,\" said the cat, for he knew what the\nprince was thinking of, \"but when morning comes go down to the sea,\nand look not to the right or the left, and let no living thing touch\nyou, for if you do you shall never leave the island. Drop the second\nball into the water, as you did the first, and when the boat comes\nstep in at once. Then you may look behind you, and you shall see what\nyou shall see, and you'll know which you love best, the Princess\nEileen or the Princess Kathleen, and you can either go or stay.\"\n\nThe prince didn't sleep a wink that night, and at the first glimpse of\nthe morning he stole from the palace. When he reached the sea he threw\nout the ball, and when it had floated out of sight, he saw the little\nboat sparkling on the horizon like a newly-risen star. The prince had\nscarcely passed through the palace doors when he was missed, and the\nking and queen and the princess, and all the lords and ladies of the\ncourt, went in search of him, taking the quickest way to the sea.\nWhile the maidens with the silver harps played sweetest music, the\nprincess, whose voice was sweeter than any music, called on the prince\nby his name, and so moved his heart that he was about to look behind,\nwhen he remembered how the cat had told him he should not do so until\nhe was in the boat. Just as it touched the shore the princess put out\nher hand and almost caught the prince's arm, but he stepped into the\nboat in time to save himself, and it sped away like a receding wave. A\nloud scream caused the prince to look round suddenly, and when he did\nhe saw no sign of king or queen, or princess, or lords or ladies, but\nonly big green serpents, with red eyes and tongues, that hissed out\nfire and poison as they writhed in a hundred horrible coils.\n\nThe prince, having escaped from the enchanted island, sailed away for\nthree days and three nights, and every night he hoped the coming\nmorning would show him the island he was in search of. He was faint\nwith hunger and beginning to despair, when on the fourth morning he\nsaw in the distance an island that, in the first rays of the sun,\ngleamed like fire. On coming closer to it he saw that it was clad with\ntrees, so covered with bright red berries that hardly a leaf was to be\nseen. Soon the boat was almost within a stone's cast of the island,\nand it began to sail round and round until it was well under the\nbending branches. The scent of the berries was so sweet that it\nsharpened the prince's hunger, and he longed to pluck them; but,\nremembering what had happened to him on the enchanted island, he was\nafraid to touch them. But the boat kept on sailing round and round,\nand at last a great wind rose from the sea and shook the branches, and\nthe bright, sweet berries fell into the boat until it was filled with\nthem, and they fell upon the prince's hands, and he took up some to\nlook at them, and as he looked the desire to eat them grew stronger,\nand he said to himself it would be no harm to taste one; but when he\ntasted it the flavour was so delicious he swallowed it, and, of\ncourse, at once he forgot all about Eileen, and the boat drifted away\nfrom him and left him standing in the water.\n\nHe climbed on to the island, and having eaten enough of the berries,\nhe set out to see what might be before him, and it was not long until\nhe heard a great noise, and a huge iron ball knocked down one of the\ntrees in front of him, and before he knew where he was a hundred\ngiants came running after it. When they saw the prince they turned\ntowards him, and one of them caught him up in his hand and held him up\nthat all might see him. The prince was nearly squeezed to death, and\nseeing this the giant put him on the ground again.\n\n\"Who are you, my little man?\" asked the giant.\n\n\"I am a prince,\" replied the prince.\n\n\"Oh, you are a prince, are you?\" said the giant. \"And what are you\ngood for?\" said he.\n\nThe prince did not know, for nobody had asked him that question\nbefore.\n\n\"I know what he's good for,\" said an old giantess, with one eye in her\nforehead and one in her chin. \"I know what he's good for. He's good to\neat.\"\n\nWhen the giants heard this they laughed so loud that the prince was\nfrightened almost to death.\n\n\"Why,\" said one, \"he wouldn't make a mouthful.\"\n\n\"Oh, leave him to me,\" said the giantess, \"and I'll fatten him up; and\nwhen he is cooked and dressed he will be a nice dainty dish for the\nking.\"\n\nThe giants, on this, gave the prince into the hands of the old\ngiantess. She took him home with her to the kitchen, and fed him on\nsugar and spice and all things nice, so that he should be a sweet\nmorsel for the king of the giants when he returned to the island. The\npoor prince would not eat anything at first, but the giantess held him\nover the fire until his feet were scorched, and then he said to\nhimself it was better to eat than to be burnt alive.\n\nWell, day after day passed, and the prince grew sadder and sadder,\nthinking that he would soon be cooked and dressed for the king; but\nsad as the prince was, he was not half as sad as the Princess Eileen\nin the giant's castle, watching and waiting for the prince to return\nand save her.\n\nAnd the dwarfs had wound two balls, and were winding a third.\n\nAt last the prince heard from the old giantess that the king of the\ngiants was to return on the following day, and she said to him:\n\n\"As this is the last night you have to live, tell me if you wish for\nanything, for if you do your wish will be granted.\"\n\n\"I don't wish for anything,\" said the prince, whose heart was dead\nwithin him.\n\n\"Well, I'll come back again,\" said the giantess, and she went away.\n\nThe prince sat down in a corner, thinking and thinking, until he heard\nclose to his ear a sound like \"purr, purr!\" He looked around, and\nthere before him was the little white cat.\n\n\"I ought not to come to you,\" said the cat; \"but, indeed, it is not\nfor your sake I come. I come for the sake of the Princess Eileen. Of\ncourse, you forgot all about her, and, of course, she is always\nthinking of you. It's always the way--\n\n                     \"Favoured lovers may forget,\n                     Slighted lovers never yet.\"\n\nThe prince blushed with shame when he heard the name of the\nprincess.\n\n\"'Tis you that ought to blush,\" said the cat; \"but listen to me now,\nand remember, if you don't obey my directions this time you'll never\nsee me again, and you'll never set your eyes on the Princess Eileen.\nWhen the old giantess comes back tell her you wish, when the morning\ncomes, to go down to the sea to look at it for the last time. When you\nreach the sea you will know what to do. But I must go now, as I hear\nthe giantess coming.\" And the cat jumped out of the window and\ndisappeared.\n\n\"Well,\" said the giantess, when she came in, \"is there anything you\nwish?\"\n\n\"Is it true I must die to-morrow?\" asked the prince.\n\n\"It is.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said he, \"I should like to go down to the sea to look at it\nfor the last time.\"\n\n\"You may do that,\" said the giantess, \"if you get up early.\"\n\n\"I'll be up with the lark in the light of the morning,\" said the\nprince.\n\n\"Very well,\" said the giantess, and, saying \"good night,\" she went\naway.\n\nThe prince thought the night would never pass, but at last it faded\naway before the grey light of the dawn, and he sped down to the sea.\nHe threw out the third ball, and before long he saw the little boat\ncoming towards him swifter than the wind. He threw himself into it the\nmoment it touched the shore. Swifter than the wind it bore him out to\nsea, and before he had time to look behind him the island of the\ngiantess was like a faint red speck in the distance. The day passed\nand the night fell, and the stars looked down, and the boat sailed on,\nand just as the sun rose above the sea it pushed its silver prow on\nthe golden strand of an island greener than the leaves in summer. The\nprince jumped out, and went on and on until he entered a pleasant\nvalley, at the head of which he saw a palace white as snow.\n\nAs he approached the central door it opened for him. On entering the\nhall he passed into several rooms without meeting with anyone; but,\nwhen he reached the principal apartment, he found himself in a\ncircular room, in which were a thousand pillars, and every pillar was\nof marble, and on every pillar save one, which stood in the centre of\nthe room, was a little white cat with black eyes. Ranged round the\nwall, from one door-jamb to the other, were three rows of precious\njewels. The first was a row of brooches of gold and silver, with their\npins fixed in the wall and their heads outwards; the second a row of\ntorques of gold and silver; and the third a row of great swords, with\nhilts of gold and silver. And on many tables was food of all kinds,\nand drinking horns filled with foaming ale.[4]\n\nWhile the prince was looking about him the cats kept on jumping from\npillar to pillar; but seeing that none of them jumped on to the pillar\nin the centre of the room, he began to wonder why this was so, when,\nall of a sudden, and before he could guess how it came about, there\nright before him on the centre pillar was the little white cat.\n\n\"Don't you know me?\" said he.\n\n\"I do,\" said the prince.\n\n\"Ah, but you don't know who I am. This is the palace of the Little\nWhite Cat, and I am the King of the Cats. But you must be hungry, and\nthe feast is spread.\"\n\nWell, when the feast was ended, the king of the cats called for the\nsword that would kill the giant Trencoss, and the hundred cakes for\nthe hundred watch-dogs.\n\nThe cats brought the sword and the cakes and laid them before the\nking.\n\n\"Now,\" said the king, \"take these; you have no time to lose. To-morrow\nthe dwarfs will wind the last ball, and to-morrow the giant will claim\nthe princess for his bride. So you should go at once; but before you\ngo take this from me to your little girl.\"\n\nAnd the king gave him a brooch lovelier than any on the palace\nwalls.\n\nThe king and the prince, followed by the cats, went down to the\nstrand, and when the prince stepped into the boat all the cats \"mewed\"\nthree times for good luck, and the prince waved his hat three times,\nand the little boat sped over the waters all through the night as\nbrightly and as swiftly as a shooting star. In the first flush of the\nmorning it touched the strand. The prince jumped out and went on and\non, up hill and down dale, until he came to the giant's castle. When\nthe hounds saw him they barked furiously, and bounded towards him to\ntear him to pieces. The prince flung the cakes to them, and as each\nhound swallowed his cake he fell dead. The prince then struck his\nshield three times with the sword which he had brought from the palace\nof the little white cat.\n\nWhen the giant heard the sound he cried out: \"Who comes to challenge\nme on my wedding-day?\"\n\nThe dwarfs went out to see, and, returning, told him it was a prince\nwho challenged him to battle.\n\nThe giant, foaming with rage, seized his heaviest iron club, and\nrushed out to the fight. The fight lasted the whole day, and when the\nsun went down the giant said:\n\n\"We have had enough of fighting for the day. We can begin at sunrise\nto-morrow.\"\n\n\"Not so,\" said the prince. \"Now or never; win or die.\"\n\n\"Then take this,\" cried the giant, as he aimed a blow with all his\nforce at the prince's head; but the prince, darting forward like a\nflash of lightning, drove his sword into the giant's heart, and, with\na groan, he fell over the bodies of the poisoned hounds.\n\nWhen the dwarfs saw the giant dead they began to cry and tear their\nhair. But the prince told them they had nothing to fear, and he bade\nthem go and tell the princess Eileen he wished to speak with her. But\nthe princess had watched the battle from her window, and when she saw\nthe giant fall she rushed out to greet the prince, and that very night\nhe and she and all the dwarfs and harpers set out for the Palace of\nthe Silver River, which they reached the next morning, and from that\nday to this there never has been a gayer wedding than the wedding of\nthe Prince of the Silver River and the Princess Eileen; and though she\nhad diamonds and pearls to spare, the only jewel she wore on her\nwedding-day was the brooch which the prince had brought her from the\nPalace of the Little White Cat in the far-off seas.\n\n\n\n\nTHE GOLDEN SPEARS.\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived in a little house under a hill a little\nold woman and her two children, whose names were Connla and Nora.\nRight in front of the door of the little house lay a pleasant meadow,\nand beyond the meadow rose up to the skies a mountain whose top was\nsharp-pointed like a spear. For more than half-way up it was clad with\nheather, and when the heather was in bloom it looked like a purple\nrobe falling from the shoulders of the mountain down to its feet.\nAbove the heather it was bare and grey, but when the sun was sinking\nin the sea, its last rays rested on the bare mountain top and made it\ngleam like a spear of gold, and so the children always called it the\n\"Golden Spear.\"\n\nIn summer days they gambolled in the meadow, plucking the sweet wild\ngrasses--and often and often they clambered up the mountain side, knee\ndeep in the heather, searching for frechans and wild honey, and\nsometimes they found a bird's nest--but they only peeped into it, they\nnever touched the eggs or allowed their breath to fall upon them, for\nnext to their little mother they loved the mountain, and next to the\nmountain they loved the wild birds who made the spring and summer\nweather musical with their songs.\n\nSometimes the soft white mist would steal through the glen, and\ncreeping up the mountain would cover it with a veil so dense that the\nchildren could not see it, and then they would say to each other: \"Our\nmountain is gone away from us.\" But when the mist would lift and float\noff into the skies, the children would clap their hands, and say: \"Oh,\nthere's our mountain back again.\"\n\nIn the long nights of winter they babbled of the spring and summertime\nto come, when the birds would once more sing for them, and never a day\npassed that they didn't fling crumbs outside their door, and on the\nborders of the wood that stretched away towards the glen.\n\nWhen the spring days came they awoke with the first light of the\nmorning, and they knew the very minute when the lark would begin to\nsing, and when the thrush and the blackbird would pour out their\nliquid notes, and when the robin would make the soft, green, tender\nleaves tremulous at his song.\n\nIt chanced one day that when they were resting in the noontide heat,\nunder the perfumed shade of a hawthorn in bloom, they saw on the edge\nof the meadow, spread out before them, a speckled thrush cowering in\nthe grass.\n\n\"Oh, Connla! Connla! Look at the thrush--and, look, look up in the\nsky, there is a hawk!\" cried Nora.\n\nConnla looked up, and he saw the hawk with quivering wings, and he\nknew that in a second it would pounce down on the frightened thrush.\nHe jumped to his feet, fixed a stone in his sling, and before the\nwhirr of the stone shooting through the air was silent, the stricken\nhawk tumbled headlong in the grass.\n\nThe thrush, shaking its wings, rose joyously in the air, and perching\nupon an elm-tree in sight of the children, he sang a song so sweet\nthat they left the hawthorn shade and walked along together until they\nstood under the branches of the elm; and they listened and listened to\nthe thrush's song, and at last Nora said:\n\n\"Oh, Connla! did you ever hear a song so sweet as this?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Connla, \"and I do believe sweeter music was never heard\nbefore.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said the thrush, \"that's because you never heard the nine little\npipers playing. And now, Connla and Nora, you saved my life to-day.\"\n\n\"It was Nora saved it,\" said Connla, \"for she pointed you out to me,\nand also pointed out the hawk which was about to pounce on you.\"\n\n\"It was Connla saved you,\" said Nora, \"for he slew the hawk with his\nsling.\"\n\n\"I owe my life to both of you,\" said the thrush. \"You like my song,\nand you say you have never heard anything so sweet; but wait till you\nhear the nine little pipers playing.\"\n\n\"And when shall we hear them?\" said the children.\n\n\"Well,\" said the thrush, \"sit outside your door to-morrow evening, and\nwait and watch until the shadows have crept up the heather, and then,\nwhen the mountain top is gleaming like a golden spear, look at the\nline where the shadow on the heather meets the sunshine, and you shall\nsee what you shall see.\"\n\nAnd having said this, the thrush sang another song sweeter than the\nfirst, and then saying \"good-bye,\" he flew away into the woods.\n\nThe children went home, and all night long they were dreaming of the\nthrush and the nine little pipers; and when the birds sang in the\nmorning, they got up and went out into the meadow to watch the\nmountain.\n\nThe sun was shining in a cloudless sky, and no shadows lay on the\nmountain, and all day long they watched and waited, and at last, when\nthe birds were singing their farewell song to the evening star, the\nchildren saw the shadows marching from the glen, trooping up the\nmountain side and dimming the purple of the heather.\n\nAnd when the mountain top gleamed like a golden spear, they fixed\ntheir eyes on the line between the shadow and the sunshine.\n\n\"Now,\" said Connla, \"the time has come.\"\n\n\"Oh, look! look!\" said Nora, and as she spoke, just above the line of\nshadow a door opened out, and through its portals came a little piper\ndressed in green and gold. He stepped down, followed by another and\nanother, until they were nine in all, and then the door slung back\nagain. Down through the heather marched the pipers in single file, and\nall the time they played a music so sweet that the birds, who had gone\nto sleep in their nests, came out upon the branches to listen to them\nand then they crossed the meadow, and they went on and on until they\ndisappeared in the leafy woods.\n\nWhile they were passing the children were spell-bound, and couldn't\nspeak, but when the music had died away in the woods, they said:\n\n\"The thrush is right, that is the sweetest music that was ever heard\nin all the world.\"\n\nAnd when the children went to bed that night the fairy music came to\nthem in their dreams. But when the morning broke, and they looked out\nupon their mountain and could see no trace of the door above the\nheather, they asked each other whether they had really seen the little\npipers, or only dreamt of them.\n\nThat day they went out into the woods, and they sat beside a stream\nthat pattered along beneath the trees, and through the leaves tossing\nin the breeze the sun flashed down upon the streamlet, and shadow and\nsunshine danced upon it. As the children watched the water sparkling\nwhere the sunlight fell, Nora said:\n\n\"Oh, Connla, did you ever see anything so bright and clear and\nglancing as that?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Connla, \"I never did.\"\n\n\"That's because you never saw the crystal hall of the fairy of the\nmountains,\" said a voice above the heads of the children.\n\nAnd when they looked up, who should they see perched on a branch but\nthe thrush.\n\n\"And where is the crystal hall of the fairy?\" said Connla.\n\n\"Oh, it is where it always was, and where it always will be,\" said the\nthrush. \"And you can see it if you like.\"\n\n\"We would like to see it,\" said the children.\n\n\"Well, then,\" said the thrush, \"if you would, all you have to do is to\nfollow the nine little pipers when they come down through the heather,\nand cross the meadow to-morrow evening.\"\n\nAnd the thrush having said this, flew away.\n\nConnla and Nora went home, and that night they fell asleep talking of\nthe thrush and the fairy and the crystal hall.\n\nAll the next day they counted the minutes, until they saw the shadows\nthronging from the glen and scaling the mountain side. And, at last,\nthey saw the door springing open, and the nine little pipers marching\ndown.\n\nThey waited until the pipers had crossed the meadow and were about to\nenter the wood. And then they followed them, the pipers marching on\nbefore them and playing all the time. It was not long until they had\npassed through the wood, and then, what should the children see rising\nup before them but another mountain, smaller than their own, but, like\ntheir own, clad more than half-way up with purple heather, and whose\ntop was bare and sharp-pointed, and gleaming like a golden spear.\n\nUp through the heather climbed the pipers, up through the heather the\nchildren clambered after them, and the moment the pipers passed the\nheather a door opened and they marched in, the children following, and\nthe door closed behind them.\n\nConnla and Nora were so dazzled by the light that hit their eyes, when\nthey had crossed the threshold, that they had to shade them with\ntheir hands; but, after a moment or two, they became able to bear the\nsplendour, and when they looked around they saw that they were in a\nnoble hall, whose crystal roof was supported by two rows of crystal\npillars rising from a crystal floor; and the walls were of crystal,\nand along the walls were crystal couches, with coverings and cushions\nof sapphire silk with silver tassels.\n\nOver the crystal floor the little pipers marched; over the crystal\nfloor the children followed, and when a door at the end of the hall\nwas opened to let the pipers pass, a crowd of colours came rushing in,\nand floor, and ceiling, and stately pillars, and glancing couches, and\nshining walls, were stained with a thousand dazzling hues.\n\nOut through the door the pipers marched; out through the door the\nchildren followed, and when they crossed the threshold they were\ntreading on clouds of amber, of purple, and of gold.\n\n\"Oh, Connla,\" said Nora, \"we have walked into the sunset!\"\n\nAnd around and about them everywhere were soft, fleecy clouds, and\nover their heads was the glowing sky, and the stars were shining\nthrough it, as a lady's eyes shine through a veil of gossamer. And the\nsky and stars seemed so near that Connla thought he could almost touch\nthem with his hand.\n\nWhen they had gone some distance, the pipers disappeared, and when\nConnla and Nora came up to the spot where they had seen the last of\nthem, they found themselves at the head of a ladder, all the steps of\nwhich were formed of purple and amber clouds that descended to what\nappeared to be a vast and shining plain, streaked with purple and\ngold. In the spaces between the streaks of gold and purple they saw\nsoft, milk-white stars. And the children thought that the great plain,\nso far below them, also belonged to cloudland.\n\nThey could not see the little pipers, but up the steps was borne by\nthe cool, sweet air the fairy music; and lured on by it step by step\nthey travelled down the fleecy stairway. When they were little more\nthan half way down there came mingled with the music a sound almost as\nsweet--the sound of waters toying in the still air with pebbles on a\nshelving beach, and with the sound came the odorous brine of the\nocean. And then the children knew that what they thought was a plain\nin the realms of cloudland was the sleeping sea unstirred by wind or\ntide, dreaming of the purple clouds and stars of the sunset sky above\nit.\n\nWhen Connla and Nora reached the strand they saw the nine little\npipers marching out towards the sea, and they wondered where they were\ngoing to. And they could hardly believe their eyes when they saw them\nstepping out upon the level ocean as if they were walking upon the\nland; and away the nine little pipers marched, treading the golden\nline cast upon the waters by the setting sun. And as the music became\nfainter and fainter as the pipers passed into the glowing distance,\nthe children began to wonder what was to become of themselves. Just at\nthat very moment they saw coming towards them from the sinking sun a\nlittle white horse, with flowing mane and tail and golden hoofs. On\nthe horse's back was a little man dressed in shining green silk. When\nthe horse galloped on to the strand the little man doffed his hat, and\nsaid to the children:\n\n\"Would you like to follow the nine little pipers?\" The children said,\n\"yes.\"\n\n\"Well, then,\" said the little man, \"come up here behind me; you, Nora,\nfirst, and Connla after.\"\n\nConnla helped up Nora, and then climbed on to the little steed\nhimself; and as soon as they were properly seated the little man said\n\"swish,\" and away went the steed, galloping over the sea without\nwetting hair or hoof. But fast as he galloped the nine little pipers\nwere always ahead of him, although they seemed to be going only at a\nwalking pace. When at last he came up rather close to the hindmost of\nthem the nine little pipers disappeared, but the children heard the\nmusic playing beneath the waters. The white steed pulled up suddenly,\nand wouldn't move a step further.\n\n\"Now,\" said the little man to the children, \"clasp me tight, Nora, and\ndo you, Connla, cling on to Nora, and both of you shut your eyes.\"\n\nThe children did as they were bidden, and the little man cried:\n\n\"Swish! swash!\"\n\nAnd the steed went down and down until at last his feet struck the\nbottom.\n\n\"Now open your eyes,\" said the little man.\n\nAnd when the children did so they saw beneath the horse's feet a\ngolden strand, and above their heads the sea like a transparent cloud\nbetween them and the sky. And once more they heard the fairy music,\nand marching on the strand before them were the nine little pipers.\n\n\"You must get off now,\" said the little man, \"I can go no farther with\nyou.\"\n\nThe children scrambled down, and the little man cried \"swish,\" and\nhimself and the steed shot up through the sea, and they saw him no\nmore. Then they set out after the nine little pipers, and it wasn't\nlong until they saw rising up from the golden strand and pushing their\nheads up into the sea above, a mass of dark grey rocks. And as they\nwere gazing at them they saw the rocks opening, and the nine little\npipers disappearing through them.\n\nThe children hurried on, and when they came up close to the rocks they\nsaw sitting on a flat and polished stone a mermaid combing her golden\nhair, and singing a strange sweet song that brought the tears to their\neyes, and by the mermaid's side was a little sleek brown otter.\n\nWhen the mermaid saw them she flung her golden tresses back over her\nsnow-white shoulders, and she beckoned the children to her. Her large\neyes were full of sadness; but there was a look so tender upon her\nface that the children moved towards her without any fear.\n\n\"Come to me, little one,\" she said to Nora, \"come and kiss me,\" and in\na second her arms were around the child. The mermaid kissed her again\nand again, as the tears rushed to her eyes, she said:\n\n\"Oh, Nora, avourneen, your breath is as sweet as the wild rose that\nblooms in the green fields of Erin, and happy are you, my children,\nwho have come so lately from the pleasant land. Oh, Connla! Connla! I\nget the scent of the dew of the Irish grasses and of the purple\nheather from your feet. And you both can soon return to Erin of the\nStreams, but I shall not see it till three hundred years have passed\naway, for I am Liban the Mermaid, daughter of a line of kings. But I\nmay not keep you here. The Fairy Queen is waiting for you in her\nsnow-white palace and her fragrant bowers. And now kiss me once more,\nNora, and kiss me, Connla. May luck and joy go with you, and all\ngentleness be upon you both.\"[5]\n\nThen the children said good-bye to the mermaid, and the rocks opened\nfor them and they passed through, and soon they found themselves in a\nmeadow starred with flowers, and through the meadow sped a sunlit\nstream. They followed the stream until it led them into a garden of\nroses, and beyond the garden, standing on a gentle hill, was a palace\nwhite as snow. Before the palace was a crowd of fairy maidens pelting\neach other with rose-leaves. But when they saw the children they gave\nover their play, and came trooping towards them.\n\n\"Our queen is waiting for you,\" they said; and then they led the\nchildren to the palace door. The children entered, and after passing\nthrough a long corridor they found themselves in a crystal hall so\nlike the one they had seen in the mountain of the golden spear that\nthey thought it was the same. But on all the crystal couches fairies,\ndressed in silken robes of many colours, were sitting, and at the end\nof the hall, on a crystal throne, was seated the fairy queen, looking\nlovelier than the evening star. The queen descended from her throne to\nmeet the children, and taking them by the hands, she led them up the\nshining steps. Then, sitting down, she made them sit beside her,\nConnla on her right hand and Nora on her left.\n\nThen she ordered the nine little pipers to come before her, and she\nsaid to them:\n\n\"So far you have done your duty faithfully, and now play one more\nsweet air and your task is done.\"\n\nAnd the little pipers played, and from the couches at the first sound\nof the music all the fairies rose, and forming partners, they danced\nover the crystal floor as lightly as the young leaves dancing in the\nwind.\n\nListening to the fairy music, and watching the wavy motion of the\ndancing fairies, the children fell asleep. When they awoke next\nmorning and rose from their silken beds they were no longer children.\nNora was a graceful and stately maiden, and Connla a handsome and\ngallant youth. They looked at each other for a moment in surprise, and\nthen Connla said:\n\n\"Oh, Nora, how tall and beautiful you are!\"\n\n\"Oh, not so tall and handsome as you are, Connla,\" said Nora, as she\nflung her white arms round his neck and kissed her brother's lips.\n\nThen they drew back to get a better look of each other, and who should\nstep between them but the fairy queen.\n\n\"Oh, Nora, Nora,\" said she, \"I am not as high as your knee, and as for\nyou, Connla, you look as straight and as tall as one of the round\ntowers of Erin.\"\n\n\"And how did we grow so tall in one night?\" said Connla.\n\n\"In one night!\" said the fairy queen. \"One night, indeed! Why, you\nhave been fast asleep, the two of you, for the last seven years!\"\n\n\"And where was the little mother all that time?\" said Connla and Nora\ntogether.\n\n\"Oh, the little mother was all right. She knew where you were; but she\nis expecting you to-day, and so you must go off to see her, although I\nwould like to keep you--if I had my way--all to myself here in the\nfairyland under the sea. And you will see her to-day; but before you\ngo here is a necklace for you, Nora; it is formed out of the drops of\nthe ocean spray, sparkling in the sunshine. They were caught by my\nfairy nymph, for you, as they skimmed the sunlit billows under the\nshape of sea-birds, and no queen or princess in the world can match\ntheir lustre with the diamonds won with toil from the caves of earth.\nAs for you, Connla, see here's a helmet of shining gold fit for a king\nof Erin--and a king of Erin you will be yet; and here's a spear that\nwill pierce any shield, and here's a shield that no spear can pierce\nand no sword can cleave as long as you fasten your warrior cloak with\nthis brooch of gold.\"\n\nAnd as she spoke she flung round Connla's shoulders a flowing mantle\nof yellow silk, and pinned it at his neck with a red gold brooch.\n\n\"And now, my children, you must go away from me. You, Nora, will be a\nwarrior's bride in Erin of the Streams. And you, Connla, will be king\nyet over the loveliest province in all the land of Erin; but you will\nhave to fight for your crown, and days of battle are before you. They\nwill not come for a long time after you have left the fairyland under\nthe sea, and until they come lay aside your helmet, shield, and spear,\nand warrior's cloak and golden brooch. But when the time comes when\nyou will be called to battle, enter not upon it without the golden\nbrooch I give you fastened in your cloak, for if you do harm will come\nto you. Now, kiss me, children; your little mother is waiting for you\nat the foot of the golden spear, but do not forget to say good-bye to\nLiban the Mermaid, exiled from the land she loves, and pining in\nsadness beneath the sea.\"\n\nConnla and Nora kissed the fairy queen, and Connla, wearing his golden\nhelmet and silken cloak, and carrying his shield and spear, led Nora\nwith him. They passed from the palace through the garden of roses,\nthrough the flowery meadow, through the dark grey rocks, until they\nreached the golden strand; and there, sitting and singing the strange,\nsweet song, was Liban the Mermaid.\n\n\"And so you are going up to Erin,\" she said, \"up through the covering\nwaters. Kiss me, children, once again; and when you are in Erin of the\nStreams, sometimes think of the exile from Erin beneath the sea.\"\n\nAnd the children kissed the mermaid, and with sad hearts, bidding her\ngood-bye, they walked along the golden strand. When they had gone what\nseemed to them a long way, they began to feel weary; and just then\nthey saw coming towards them a little man in a red jacket leading a\ncoal-black steed.\n\nWhen they met the little man, he said: \"Connla, put Nora up on this\nsteed; then jump up before her.\"\n\nConnla did as he was told, and when both of them were mounted--\n\n\"Now, Connla,\" said the little man, \"catch the bridle in your hands,\nand you, Nora, clasp Connla round the waist, and close your eyes.\"\n\nThey did as they were bidden, and then the little man said, \"Swash,\nswish!\" and the steed shot up from the strand like a lark from the\ngrass, and pierced the covering sea, and went bounding on over the\nlevel waters; and when his hoofs struck the hard ground, Connla and\nNora opened their eyes, and they saw that they were galloping towards\na shady wood.\n\nOn went the steed, and soon he was galloping beneath the branches that\nalmost touched Connla's head. And on they went until they had passed\nthrough the wood, and then they saw rising up before them the \"Golden\nSpear.\"\n\n\"Oh, Connla,\" said Nora, \"we are at home at last.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Connla, \"but where is the little house under the hill?\"\n\nAnd no little house was there; but in its stead was standing a\nlime-white mansion.\n\n\"What can this mean?\" said Nora.\n\nBut before Connla could reply, the steed had galloped up to the door\nof the mansion, and, in the twinkling of an eye, Connla and Nora were\nstanding on the ground outside the door, and the steed had vanished.\n\nBefore they could recover from their surprise the little mother came\nrushing out to them, and flung her arms around their necks, and kissed\nthem both again and again.\n\n\"Oh, children! children! You are welcome home to me; for though I knew\nit was all for the best, my heart was lonely without you.\"\n\nAnd Connla and Nora caught up the little mother in their arms, and\nthey carried her into the hall and set her down on the floor.\n\n\"Oh, Nora!\" said the little mother, \"you are a head over me; and as\nfor you, Connla, you look almost as tall as one of the round towers of\nErin.\"\n\n\"That's what the fairy queen said, mother,\" said Nora.\n\n\"Blessings on the fairy queen,\" said the little mother. \"Turn round,\nConnla, till I look at you.\"\n\nConnla turned round, and the little mother said:\n\n\"Oh, Connla, with your golden helmet and your spear, and your glancing\nshield, and your silken cloak, you look like a king. But take them\noff, my boy, beautiful as they are. Your little mother would like to\nsee you, her own brave boy, without any fairy finery.\"\n\nAnd Connla laid aside his spear and shield, and took off his golden\nhelmet and his silken cloak. Then he caught the little mother and\nkissed her, and lifted her up until she was as high as his head. And\nsaid he:\n\n\"Don't you know, little mother, I'd rather have you than all the\nworld.\"\n\nAnd that night, when they were sitting down by the fire together, you\nmay be sure that in the whole world no people were half as happy as\nNora, Connla, and the little mother.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FAIRY TREE OF DOOROS.[6]\n\n\nOnce upon a time the fairies of the west, going home from a\nhurling-match with the fairies of the lakes, rested in Dooros Wood for\nthree days and three nights. They spent the days feasting and the\nnights dancing in the light of the moon, and they danced so hard that\nthey wore the shoes off their feet, and for a whole week after the\nleprechauns, the fairies' shoemakers, were working night and day\nmaking new ones, and the rip, rap, tap, tap of their little hammers\nwere heard in all the hedgerows.\n\nThe food on which the fairies feasted were little red berries, and\nwere so like those that grow on the rowan tree that if you only looked\nat them you might mistake one for the other; but the fairy berries\ngrow only in fairyland, and are sweeter than any fruit that grows here\nin this world, and if an old man, bent and grey, ate one of them, he\nbecame young and active and strong again; and if an old woman,\nwithered and wrinkled, ate one of them, she became young and bright\nand fair; and if a little maiden who was not handsome ate of them, she\nbecame lovelier than the flower of beauty.\n\nThe fairies guarded the berries as carefully as a miser guards his\ngold, and whenever they were about to leave fairyland they had to\npromise in the presence of the king and queen that they would not give\na single berry to mortal man, nor allow one to fall upon the earth;\nfor if a single berry fell upon the earth a slender tree of many\nbranches, bearing clusters of berries, would at once spring up, and\nmortal men might eat of them.\n\nBut it chanced that this time they were in Dooros Wood they kept up\nthe feasting and dancing so long, and were so full of joy because of\ntheir victory over the lake fairies, that one little, weeny fairy, not\nmuch bigger than my finger, lost his head, and dropped a berry in the\nwood.\n\nWhen the feast was ended the fairies went back to fairyland, and were\nat home for more than a week before they knew of the little fellow's\nfault, and this is how they came to know of it.\n\nA great wedding was about to come off, and the queen of the fairies\nsent six of her pages to Dooros Wood to catch fifty butterflies with\ngolden spots on their purple wings, and fifty white without speck or\nspot, and fifty golden, yellow as the cowslip, to make a dress for\nherself, and a hundred white, without speck or spot, to make dresses\nfor the bride and bridesmaids.\n\nWhen the pages came near the wood they heard the most wonderful music,\nand the sky above them became quite dark, as if a cloud had shut out\nthe sun. They looked up, and saw that the cloud was formed of bees,\nwho in a great swarm were flying towards the wood and humming as they\nflew. Seeing this they were sore afraid until they saw the bees\nsettling on a single tree, and on looking closely at the tree they saw\nit was covered with fairy berries.\n\nThe bees took no notice of the fairies, and so they were no longer\nafraid, and they hunted the butterflies until they had captured the\nfull number of various colours. Then they returned to fairyland, and\nthey told the queen about the bees and the berries, and the queen told\nthe king.\n\nThe king was very angry, and he sent his heralds to the four corners\nof fairyland to summon all his subjects to his presence that he might\nfind out without delay who was the culprit.\n\nThey all came except the little weeny fellow who dropped the berry,\nand of course every one said that it was fear that kept him away, and\nthat he must be guilty.\n\nThe heralds were at once sent in search of him, and after a while they\nfound him hiding in a cluster of ferns, and brought him before the\nking.\n\nThe poor little fellow was so frightened that at first he could\nscarcely speak a word, but after a time he told how he never missed\nthe berry until he had returned to fairyland, and that he was afraid\nto say anything to anyone about it.\n\nThe king, who would hear of no excuse, sentenced the little culprit to\nbe banished into the land of giants beyond the mountains, to stay\nthere for ever and a day unless he could find a giant willing to go to\nDooros Wood and guard the fairy tree. When the king had pronounced\nsentence everyone was very sorry, because the little fellow was a\nfavourite with them all. No fairy harper upon his harp, or piper upon\nhis pipe, or fiddler upon his fiddle, could play half so sweetly as he\ncould play upon an ivy leaf; and when they remembered all the pleasant\nmoonlit nights on which they had danced to his music, and thought that\nthey should never hear or dance to it any more, their little hearts\nwere filled with sorrow. The queen was as sad as any of her subjects,\nbut the king's word should be obeyed.\n\nWhen the time came for the little fellow to set out into exile the\nqueen sent her head page to him with a handful of berries. These the\nqueen said he was to offer to the giants, and say at the same time\nthat the giant who was willing to guard the tree could feast on\nberries just as sweet from morn till night.\n\nAs the little fellow went on his way nearly all the fairies followed\nhim to the borders of the land, and when they saw him go up the\nmountain towards the land of the giants, they all took off their\nlittle red caps and waved them until he was out of sight.\n\nOn he went walking all day and night, and when the sun rose on the\nmorrow he was on the top of the mountain, and he could see the land of\nthe giants in the valley stretched far below him. Before beginning his\ndescent he turned round for a last glimpse of fairyland; but he could\nsee nothing, for a thick, dark cloud shut it out from view. He was\nvery sad, and tired, and footsore, and as he struggled down the rough\nmountain side, he could not help thinking of the soft, green woods and\nmossy pathways of the pleasant land he had left behind him.\n\nWhen he awoke the ground was trembling, and a noise that sounded like\nthunder fell on his ears. He looked up and saw coming towards him a\nterrible giant, with one eye that burned like a live coal in the\nmiddle of his forehead, his mouth stretched from ear to ear, his teeth\nwere long and crooked, the skin of his face was as black as night, and\nhis arms and chest were all covered with black, shaggy hair; round his\nbody was an iron band, and hanging from this by a chain was a great\nclub with iron spikes. With one blow of this club he could break a\nrock into splinters, and fire could not burn him, and water could not\ndrown him, and weapons could not wound him, and there was no way to\nkill him but by giving him three blows of his own club. And he was so\nbad-tempered that the other giants called him Sharvan the Surly. When\nthe giant spied the red cap of the little fairy he gave the shout that\nsounded like thunder. The poor fairy was shaking from head to foot.\n\n\"What brought you here?\" said the giant.\n\n\"Please, Mr. Giant,\" said the fairy, \"the king of the fairies banished\nme here, and here I must stay for ever and a day, unless you come and\nguard the fairy tree in Dooros Wood.\"\n\n\"Unless what?\" roared the giant, and he gave the fairy a touch of his\nfoot that sent the little fellow rolling down head over heels.\n\nThe poor fairy lay as if he were dead, and then the giant, feeling\nsorry for what he had done, took him up gently between his finger and\nthumb.\n\n[Illustration: \"Sharvan took him up gently between his finger and\nthumb\"--p. 87.]\n\n\"Don't be frightened, little man,\" said he, \"and now, tell me all\nabout the tree.\"\n\n\"It is the tree of the fairy berry that grows in the Wood of Dooros,\"\nsaid the fairy, \"and I have some of the berries with me.\"\n\n\"Oh, you have, have you?\" said the giant. \"Let me see them.\"\n\nThe fairy took three berries from the pocket of his little green coat,\nand gave them to the giant.\n\nThe giant looked at them for a second. He then swallowed the three\ntogether, and when he had done so, he felt so happy that he began to\nshout and dance for joy.\n\n\"More, you little thief!\" said he. \"More, you little----what's your\nname?\" said the giant.\n\n\"Pinkeen, please, Mr. Giant,\" said the fairy, as he gave up all the\nberries.\n\nThe giant shouted louder than before, and his shouts were heard by all\nthe other giants, who came running towards him.\n\nWhen Sharvan saw them coming, he caught up Pinkeen, and put him in his\npocket, that they shouldn't see him.\n\n\"What were you shouting for?\" said the giants.\n\n\"Because,\" said Sharvan, \"that rock there fell down on my big toe.\"\n\n\"You did not shout like a man that was hurt,\" said they.\n\n\"What is it to you what way I shouted?\" said he.\n\n\"You might give a civil answer to a civil question,\" said they; \"but\nsure you were always Sharvan the Surly;\" and they went away.\n\nWhen the giants were out of sight, Sharvan took Pinkeen out of his\nwallet.\n\n\"Some more berries, you little thief--I mean little Pinkeen,\" said\nhe.\n\n\"I have not any more,\" said Pinkeen; \"but if you will guard the tree\nin Dooros Wood you can feast on them from morn till night.\"\n\n\"I'll guard every tree in the wood, if I may do that,\" said the\ngiant.\n\n\"You'll have to guard only one,\" said Pinkeen.\n\n\"How am I to get to it?\" said Sharvan.\n\n\"You must first come with me towards fairyland,\" said the fairy.\n\n\"Very well,\" said Sharvan; \"let us go.\" And he took up the fairy and\nput him into his wallet, and before very long they were on the top of\nthe mountain. Then the giant looked around towards the giant's land;\nbut a black cloud shut it out from view, while the sun was shining on\nthe valley that lay before him, and he could see away in the distance\nthe green woods and shining waters of fairyland.\n\nIt was not long until he reached its borders, but when he tried to\ncross them his feet stuck to the ground and he could not move a step.\nSharvan gave three loud shouts that were heard all over fairyland, and\nmade the trees in the woods tremble, as if the wind of a storm was\nsweeping over them.\n\n\"Oh, please, Mr. Giant, let me out,\" said Pinkeen. Sharvan took out\nthe little fellow, who, as soon as he saw he was on the borders of\nfairyland ran as fast as his legs could carry him, and before he had\ngone very far he met all the little fairies who, hearing the shouts\nof the giant, came trooping out from the ferns to see what was the\nmatter. Pinkeen told them it was the giant who was to guard the tree,\nshouting because he was stuck fast on the borders, and they need have\nno fear of him. The fairies were so delighted to have Pinkeen back\nagain, that they took him up on their shoulders and carried him to the\nking's palace, and all the harpers and pipers and fiddlers marched\nbefore him playing the most jocund music that was ever heard. The king\nand queen were on the lawn in front of the palace when the gay\nprocession came up and halted before them. The queen's eyes glistened\nwith pleasure when she saw the little favourite, and the king was also\nglad at heart, but he looked very grave as he said:\n\n\"Why have you returned, sirrah?\"\n\nThen Pinkeen told his majesty that he had brought with him a giant who\nwas willing to guard the fairy tree.\n\n\"And who is he and where is he?\" asked the king.\n\n\"The other giants called him Sharvan the Surly,\" said Pinkeen, \"and he\nis stuck fast outside the borders of fairyland.\"\n\n\"It is well,\" said the king, \"you are pardoned.\"\n\nWhen the fairies heard this they tossed their little red caps in the\nair, and cheered so loudly that a bee who was clinging to a rose-bud\nfell senseless to the ground.\n\nThen the king ordered one of his pages to take a handful of berries,\nand to go to Sharvan and show him the way to Dooros Wood. The page,\ntaking the berries with him, went off to Sharvan, whose roaring nearly\nfrightened the poor little fellow to death. But as soon as the giant\ntasted the berries he got into good humour, and he asked the page if\nhe could remove the spell of enchantment from him.\n\n\"I can,\" said the page, \"and I will if you promise me that you will\nnot try to cross the borders of fairyland.\"\n\n\"I promise that, with all my heart,\" said the giant. \"But hurry on, my\nlittle man, for there are pins and needles in my legs.\"\n\nThe page plucked a cowslip, and picking out the five little crimson\nspots in the cup of it, he flung one to the north, and one to the\nsouth, and one to the east, and one to the west, and one up into the\nsky, and the spell was broken, and the giant's limbs were free. Then\nSharvan and the fairy page set off for Dooros Wood, and it was not\nlong until they came within view of the fairy tree. When Sharvan saw\nthe berries glistening in the sun, he gave a shout so loud and strong\nthat the wind of it blew the little fairy back to fairyland. But he\nhad to return to the wood to tell the giant that he was to stay all\nday at the foot of the tree ready to do battle with anyone who might\ncome to steal the berries, and that during the night he was to sleep\namongst the branches.\n\n\"All right,\" said the giant, who could scarcely speak, as his mouth\nwas full of berries.\n\nWell, the fame of the fairy-tree spread far and wide, and every day\nsome adventurer came to try if he could carry away some of the\nberries; but the giant, true to his word, was always on the watch, and\nnot a single day passed on which he did not fight and slay a daring\nchampion, and the giant never received a wound, for fire could not\nburn him, nor water drown him, nor weapon wound him.\n\nNow, at this time, when Sharvan was keeping watch and ward over the\ntree, a cruel king was reigning over the lands that looked towards the\nrising sun. He had slain the rightful king by foul means, and his\nsubjects, loving their murdered sovereign, hated the usurper; but much\nas they hated him they feared him more, for he was brave and\nmasterful, and he was armed with a helmet and shield which no weapon\nmade by mortal hands could pierce, and he carried always with him two\njavelins that never missed their mark, and were so fatal that they\nwere called \"the shafts of death.\" The murdered king had two\nchildren--a boy, whose name was Niall, and a girl, who was called\nRosaleen--that is, little Rose; but no rose that ever bloomed was half\nas sweet or fresh or fair as she. Cruel as the tyrant king was, he was\nafraid of the people to kill the children. He sent the boy adrift on\nthe sea in an open boat, hoping the waves would swallow it; and he got\nan old witch to cast the spell of deformity over Rosaleen, and under\nthe spell her beauty faded, until at last she became so ugly and\nwasted that scarcely anyone would speak to her. And, shunned by\neveryone, she spent her days in the out-houses with the cattle, and\nevery night she cried herself to sleep.\n\nOne day, when she was very lonely, a little robin came to pick the\ncrumbs that had fallen about her feet. He appeared so tame that she\noffered him the bread from her hand, and when he took it she cried\nwith joy at finding that there was one living thing that did not shun\nher. After this the robin came every day, and he sang so sweetly for\nher that she almost forgot her loneliness and misery. But once while\nthe robin was with her the tyrant king's daughter, who was very\nbeautiful, passed with her maids of honour, and, seeing Rosaleen, the\nprincess said:\n\n\"Oh, there is that horrid ugly thing.\"\n\nThe maids laughed and giggled, and said they had never seen such a\nfright.\n\nPoor Rosaleen felt as if her heart would break, and when the princess\nand her maids were out of sight she almost cried her eyes out. When\nthe robin saw her crying he perched on her shoulder and rubbed his\nlittle head against her neck and chirruped softly in her ear, and\nRosaleen was comforted, for she felt she had at least one friend in\nthe world, although it was only a little robin. But the robin could do\nmore for her than she could dream of. He heard the remark made by the\nprincess, and he saw Rosaleen's tears, and he knew now why she was\nshunned by everybody, and why she was so unhappy. And that very\nevening he flew off to Dooros Wood, and called on a cousin of his and\ntold him all about Rosaleen.\n\n\"And you want some of the fairy berries, I suppose,\" said his cousin,\nRobin of the Wood.\n\n\"I do,\" said Rosaleen's little friend.\n\n\"Ah,\" said Robin of the Wood, \"times have changed since you were here\nlast. The tree is guarded now all the day long by a surly giant. He\nsleeps in the branches during the night, and he breathes upon them and\naround them every morning, and his breath is poison to bird and bee.\nThere is only one chance open, and if you try that it may cost you\nyour life.\"\n\n\"Then tell me what it is, for I would give a hundred lives for\nRosaleen,\" said her own little robin.\n\n\"Well,\" said Robin of the Wood, \"every day a champion comes to battle\nwith the giant, and the giant, before he begins the fight, puts a\nbranch of berries in the iron belt that's around his waist, so that\nwhen he feels tired or thirsty he can refresh himself, and there is\njust a bare chance, while he is fighting, of picking one of the\nberries from the branch; but if his breath fall on you it is certain\ndeath.\"\n\n\"I will take the chance,\" said Rosaleen's robin.\n\n\"Very well,\" said the other. And the two birds flew through the wood\nuntil they came within sight of the fairy tree. The giant was lying\nstretched at the foot of it, eating the berries; but it was not long\nuntil a warrior came, who challenged him to battle. The giant jumped\nup, and plucking a branch from the tree stuck it in his belt, and\nswinging his iron club above his head strode towards the warrior, and\nthe fight began. The robin perched on a tree behind the giant, and\nwatched and waited for his chance; but it was a long time coming, for\nthe berries were in front of the giant's belt. At last the giant, with\none great blow, struck the warrior down, but as he did so he stumbled\nand fell upon him, and before he had time to recover himself the\nlittle robin darted towards him like a flash and picked off one of the\nberries, and then, as fast as wings could carry him, he flew towards\nhome, and on his way he passed over a troop of warriors on snow-white\nsteeds. All the horsemen except one wore silver helmets and shining\nmantles of green silk, fastened by brooches of red gold, but the\nchief, who rode at the head of the troop, wore a golden helmet, and\nhis mantle was of yellow silk, and he looked by far the noblest of\nthem all. When the robin had left the horsemen far behind him he spied\nRosaleen sitting outside the palace gates bemoaning her fate. The\nrobin perched upon her shoulder, and almost before she knew he was\nthere he put the berry between her lips, and the taste was so\ndelicious that Rosaleen ate it at once, and that very moment the\nwitch's withering spell passed away from her, and she became as lovely\nas the flower of beauty. Just then the warriors on the snow-white\nsteeds came up, and the chief with the mantle of yellow silk and the\ngolden helmet leaped from his horse, and bending his knee before her,\nsaid:\n\n\"Fairest of all fair maidens, you are surely the daughter of the king\nof these realms, even though you are without the palace gates,\nunattended, and wear not royal robes. I am the Prince of the Sunny\nValleys.\"\n\n\"Daughter of a king I am,\" said Rosaleen, \"but not of the king who\nrules these realms.\"\n\nAnd saying this she fled, leaving the prince wondering who she could\nbe. The prince then ordered his trumpeters to give notice of his\npresence outside the palace, and in a few moments the king and all his\nnobles came out to greet the prince and his warriors, and give them\nwelcome. That night a great feast was spread in the banquet-hall, and\nthe Prince of the Sunny Valleys sat by the king, and beside the prince\nsat the king's beautiful daughter, and then in due order sat the\nnobles of the court and the warriors who had come with the prince, and\non the wall behind each noble and warrior his shield and helmet were\nsuspended, flashing radiance through the room. During the feast the\nprince spoke most graciously to the lovely lady at his side, but all\nthe time he was thinking of the unknown beauty he had met outside the\npalace gates, and his heart longed for another glimpse of her. When\nthe feast was ended, and the jewelled drinking-cups had gone merrily\naround the table, the bards sang, to the accompaniment of harps, the\n\"Courtship of the Lady Eimer,\" and as they pictured her radiant beauty\noutshining that of all her maidens, the prince thought that fair as\nLady Eimer was there was one still fairer.\n\nWhen the feast was ended the king asked the prince what brought him\ninto his realms.\n\n\"I come,\" said the prince, \"to look for a bride, for it was foretold\nto me in my own country that here only I should find the lady who is\ndestined to share my throne, and fame reported that in your kingdom\nare to be found the loveliest maidens in all the world, and I can well\nbelieve that,\" added the prince, \"after what I have seen to-day.\"\n\nWhen the king's daughter heard this she hung down her head and blushed\nlike a rose, for, of course, she thought the prince was alluding only\nto herself, as she did not know that he had seen Rosaleen, and she had\nnot heard of the restoration of her beauty.\n\nBefore another word could be spoken a great noise and the clang of\narms were heard outside the palace. The king and his guests started\nfrom their seats and drew their swords, and the bards raised the song\nof battle; but their voices were stilled and their harps silenced when\nthey saw at the threshold of the banquet hall a battle champion, in\nwhose face they recognised the features of their murdered king.\n\n\"'Tis Niall come back to claim his father's throne,\" said the chief\nbard. \"Long live Niall!\"\n\n\"Long live Niall!\" answered all the others.\n\nThe king, white with rage and amazement, turned to the chiefs and\nnobles of his court, and cried out:\n\n\"Is there none loyal enough to drive that intruder from the banquet\nhall?\"\n\nBut no one stirred, and no answer was given. Then the king rushed\nforward alone, but before he could reach the spot where Niall was\nstanding he was seized by a dozen chiefs and at once disarmed.\n\nDuring this scene the king's daughter had fled frightened; but\nRosaleen, attracted by the noise, and hearing her brother's name and\nthe cheers which greeted it, had entered the banquet hall unperceived\nby anyone. But when her presence was discovered every eye was dazzled\nwith her beauty. Niall looked at her for a second, wondering if the\nradiant maiden before him could be the little sister he had been\nseparated from for so many years. In another second she was clasped in\nhis arms.\n\nThen the feast was spread again, and Niall told the story of his\nadventures; and when the Prince of the Sunny Valley asked for the hand\nof Rosaleen, Niall told his lovely sister to speak for herself. With\ndowncast eyes and smiling lips she said, \"yes,\" and that very day was\nthe gayest and brightest wedding that ever took place, and Rosaleen\nbecame the prince's bride.\n\nIn her happiness she did not forget the little robin, who was her\nfriend in sorrow. She took him home with her to Sunny Valleys, and\nevery day she fed him with her own hands, and every day he sang for\nher the sweetest songs that were ever heard in lady's bower.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ENCHANTED CAVE.\n\n\nA long, long time ago, Prince Cuglas,[7] master of the hounds to the\nhigh King of Erin, set out from Tara to the chase. As he was leaving\nthe palace the light mists were drifting away from the hill-tops, and\nthe rays of the morning sun were falling aslant on the _grinan_ or\nsunny bower of the Princess Ailinn. Glancing towards it the prince\ndoffed his plumed and jewelled hunting-cap, and the princess answered\nhis salute by a wave of her little hand, that was as white as a wild\nrose in the hedges in June, and leaning from her bower, she watched\nthe huntsman until his tossing plumes were hidden by the green waving\nbranches of the woods.\n\nThe Princess Ailinn was over head and ears in love with Cuglas, and\nCuglas was over head and ears in love with the Princess Ailinn, and he\nbelieved that never was summer morning half as bright, or as sweet, or\nas fair as she. The glimpse which he had just caught of her filled his\nheart with delight, and almost put all thought of hunting out of his\nhead, when suddenly the tuneful cries of the hounds, answered by a\nhundred echoes from the groves, broke upon his ear.\n\nThe dogs had started a dappled deer that bounded away through the\nforest. The prince, spurring his gallant steed, pushed on in eager\npursuit.\n\nOn through the forest sped the deer, through soft, green, secret ways\nand flowery dells, then out from the forest, up heathery hills, and\nover long stretches of moorland, and across brown rushing streams,\nsometimes in view of the hounds, sometimes lost to sight, but always\nahead of them.\n\nAll day long the chase continued, and at last, when the sun was\nsinking, the dogs were close upon the panting deer, and the prince\nbelieved he was about to secure his game, when the deer suddenly\ndisappeared through the mouth of a cave which opened before him. The\ndogs followed at his heels, and the prince endeavoured to rein in his\nsteed, but the impetuous animal bore him on, and soon was clattering\nover the stony floor of the cave in perfect darkness. Cuglas could\nhear ahead of him the cries of the hounds growing fainter and fainter,\nas they increased the distance between them and him. Then the cries\nceased altogether, and the only sound the prince heard was the noise\nof his horse's hoofs sounding in the hollow cave. Once more he\nendeavoured to check his career, but the reins broke in his hands, and\nin that instant the prince felt the horse had taken a plunge into a\ngulf, and was sinking down and down, as a stone cast from the summit\nof a cliff sinks down to the sea. At last the horse struck the\nground again, and the prince was almost thrown out of his saddle, but\nhe succeeded in regaining his seat. Then on through the darkness\ngalloped the steed, and when he came into the light the prince's eyes\nwere for some time unable to bear it. But when he got used to the\nbrightness he saw he was galloping over a grassy plain, and in the\ndistance he perceived the hounds rushing towards a wood faintly\nvisible through a luminous summer haze. The prince galloped on, and as\nhe approached the wood he saw coming towards him a comely champion,\nwearing a shining brown cloak, fastened by a bright bronze spear-like\nbrooch, and bearing a white hazel wand in one hand, and a single-edged\nsword with a hilt made from the tooth of a sea-horse in the other;[8]\nand the prince knew by the dress of the champion, and by his wand and\nsword, that he was a royal herald. As the herald came close to him the\nprince's steed stopped of his own accord.\n\n[Illustration: \"The Prince endeavoured to rein in his steed, but the\nimpetuous animal bore him on\"--p. 102]\n\n\"You are welcome, Cuglas,\" said the herald, \"and I have been sent by\nthe Princess Crede to greet you and to lead you to her court, where\nyou have been so long expected.\"\n\n\"I know not how this may be,\" said Cuglas.\n\n\"How it has come about I shall tell you as we go along,\" said the\nherald. \"The Princess Crede is the Queen of the Floating Island. And\nit chanced, once upon a day, when she was visiting her fairy kinsmen,\nwho dwell in one of the pleasant hills that lie near Tara, she saw you\nwith the high king and princes and nobles of Erin following the chase.\nAnd seeing you her heart went out to you, and wishing to bring you to\nher court, she sent one of her nymphs, in the form of a deer, to lure\nyou on through the cave, which is the entrance to this land.\"\n\n\"I am deeply honoured by the preference shown me by the princess,\"\nsaid Cuglas, \"but I may not tarry in her court; for above in Erin\nthere is the Lady Ailinn, the loveliest of all the ladies who grace\nthe royal palace, and before the princess and chiefs of Erin she has\npromised to be my bride.\"\n\n\"Of that I know not,\" said the herald; \"but a true champion, like you,\ncannot, I know, refuse to come with me to the court of the Princess\nCrede.\"\n\nAs the herald had said these words the prince and he were on the verge\nof the wood, and they entered upon a mossy pathway that broadened out\nas they advanced until it was as wide as one of the great roads of\nErin. Before they had gone very far the prince heard the tinkling of\nsilver bells in the distance, and almost as soon as he heard them he\nsaw coming up towards him a troop of warriors on coal black steeds.\nAll the warriors wore helmets of shining silver, and cloaks of blue\nsilk. And on the horses' breasts were crescents of silver, on which\nwere hung tiny silver bells, shaking out music with the motion of the\nhorses. As the prince approached the champions they lowered their\nspears, and dividing in two lines the prince and the herald passed\nbetween the ranks, and the champions, forming again, followed on\nbehind the prince.\n\nAt last they passed through the wood, and they found themselves on a\ngreen plain, speckled with flowers, and they had not gone far when the\nprince saw coming towards him a hundred champions on snow-white\nsteeds, and around the breasts of the steeds were crescents of gold,\nfrom which were hanging little golden bells.[9] The warriors all wore\ngolden helmets, and the shafts of their shining spears were of gold,\nand golden sandals on their feet, and yellow silken mantles fell down\nover their shoulders. And when the prince came near them they lowered\ntheir lances, and then they turned their horses' heads around and\nmarched before him. And it was not long until above the pleasant\njingle of the bells the prince heard the measured strains of music,\nand he saw coming towards him a band of harpers, dressed in green and\ngold, and when the harpers had saluted the prince they marched in\nfront of the cavalcade, playing all the time, and it was not long\nuntil they came to a stream that ran like a blue riband around the\nfoot of a green hill, on the top of which was a sparkling palace; the\nstream was crossed by a golden bridge, so narrow that the horsemen had\nto go two-by-two. The herald asked the prince to halt and to allow all\nthe champions to go before him; and the cavalcade ascended the hill,\nthe sunlight brightly glancing on helmet and on lance, and when it\nreached the palace the horsemen filed around the walls.\n\nWhen at length the prince and herald crossed the bridge and began to\nclimb the hill, the prince thought he felt the ground moving under\nthem, and on looking back he could see no sign of the golden bridge,\nand the blue stream had already become as wide as a great river, and\nwas becoming wider every second.\n\n\"You are on the floating island now,\" said the herald, \"and before you\nis the palace of the Princess Crede.\"\n\nAt that moment the queen came out through the palace door, and the\nprince was so dazzled by her beauty, that only for the golden bracelet\nhe wore upon his right arm, under the sleeve of his silken tunic, he\nmight almost have forgotten the Princess Ailinn. This bracelet was\nmade by the dwarfs who dwell in the heart of the Scandinavian\nMountains, and was sent with other costly presents by the King of\nScandinavia to the King of Erin, and he gave it to the princess, and\nit was the virtue of this bracelet, that whoever was wearing it could\nnot forget the person who gave it to him, and it could never be\nloosened from the arm by any art or magic spell; but if the wearer,\neven for a single moment, liked anyone better than the person who gave\nit to him, that very moment the bracelet fell off from the arm and\ncould never again be fastened on. And when the princess promised her\nhand in marriage to the Prince Cuglas, she closed the bracelet on his\narm.\n\nThe fairy queen knew nothing about the bracelet, and she hoped that\nbefore the prince was long in the floating island he would forget all\nabout the princess.\n\n\"You are welcome, Cuglas,\" said the queen, as she held out her hand,\nand Cuglas, having thanked her for her welcome, they entered the\npalace together.\n\n\"You must be weary after your long journey,\" said the queen. \"My page\nwill lead you to your apartments, where a bath of the cool blue waters\nof the lake has been made ready for you, and when you have taken your\nbath the pages will lead you to the banquet hall, where the feast is\nspread.\"\n\nAt the feast the prince was seated beside the queen, and she talked to\nhim of all the pleasures that were in store for him in fairyland,\nwhere pain, and sickness, and sorrow, and old age, are unknown, and\nwhere every rosy hour that flies is brighter than the one that has\nfled before it. And when the feast was ended the queen opened the\ndance with the prince, and it was not until the moon was high above\nthe floating island that the prince retired to rest.\n\nHe was so tired after his journey and the dancing that he fell into a\nsound sleep. When he awoke the next morning the sun was shining\nbrightly, and he heard outside the palace the jingle of bells and the\nmusic of baying hounds, and his heart was stirred by memories of the\nmany pleasant days on which he had led the chase over the plains and\nthrough the green woods of Tara.\n\nHe looked out through the window, and he saw all the fairy champions\nmounted on their steeds ready for the chase, and at their head the\nfairy queen. And at that moment the pages came to say the queen wished\nto know if he would join them, and the prince went out and found his\nsteed ready saddled and bridled, and they spent the day hunting in the\nforest that stretched away for miles behind the palace, and the night\nin feasting and dancing.\n\nWhen the prince awoke the following morning he was summoned by the\npages to the presence of the queen. The prince found the queen on the\nlawn outside the palace surrounded by her court.\n\n\"We shall go on the lake to-day, Cuglas,\" said the queen, and taking\nhis arm she led him along the water's edge, all the courtiers\nfollowing.\n\nWhen she was close to the water she waved her wand, and in a second a\nthousand boats, shining like glass, shot up from beneath the lake and\nset their bows against the bank. The queen and Cuglas stepped into\none, and when they were seated two fairy harpers took their places in\nthe prow. All the other boats were soon thronged by fairies, and then\nthe queen waved her wand again, and an awning of purple silk rose over\nthe boat, and silken awning of various colours over the others, and\nthe royal boat moved off from the bank followed by all the rest, and\nin every boat sat a harper with a golden harp, and when the queen\nwaved her wand for the third time, the harpers struck the trembling\nchords, and to the sound of the delightful music the boats glided over\nthe sunlit lake. And on they went until they approached the mouth of a\ngentle river sliding down between banks clad with trees. Up the river,\nclose to the bank and under the drooping trees, they sailed, and when\nthey came to a bend in the river, from which the lake could be no\nlonger seen, they pushed their prows in against the bank, and the\nqueen and Cuglas, and all the party, left the boats and went on under\nthe trees until they came to a mossy glade.\n\nThen the queen waved her wand, and silken couches were spread under\nthe trees, and she and Cuglas sat on one apart from the others, and\nthe courtiers took their places in proper order.\n\nAnd the queen waved her wand again, and wind shook the trees above\nthem, and the most luscious fruit that was ever tasted fell down into\ntheir hands; and when the feast was over there was dancing in the\nglades to the music of the harps, and when they were tired dancing\nthey set out for the boats, and the moon was rising above the trees as\nthey sailed away over the lake, and it was not long until they reached\nthe bank below the fairy palace.\n\nWell, between hunting in the forest, and sailing over the lake, and\ndancing in the greenwood glade and in the banquet hall, the days\npassed, but all the time the prince was thinking of the Princess\nAilinn, and one moonlit night, when he was lying awake on his couch\nthinking of her, a shadow was suddenly cast on the floor.\n\nThe prince looked towards the window, and what should he see sitting\non the sill outside but a little woman tapping the pane with a golden\nbodkin.\n\nThe prince jumped from his couch and opened the window, and the little\nwoman floated on the moonbeams into the room and sat down on the\nfloor.\n\n\"You are thinking of the Princess Ailinn,\" said the little woman.\n\n\"I never think of anyone else,\" said the prince.\n\n\"I know that,\" said the little woman, \"and it's because of your love\nfor each other, and because her mother was a friend to me in the\ndays gone by, that I have come here to try and help you; but there is\nnot much time for talking, the night advances. At the bank below a\nboat awaits you. Step into it and it will lead you to the mainland,\nand when you reach it you will find before you a path that will\ntake you to the green fields of Erin and the plains of Tara. I know\nyou will have to face danger. I know not what kind of danger; but\nwhatever it may be do not draw your sword before you tread upon the\nmainland, for if you do you shall never reach it, and the boat\nwill come back again to the floating island; and now go and may luck\ngo with you;\" and saying this the little woman climbed up the\nmoonbeams and disappeared.\n\nThe prince left the palace and descended to the lake, and there before\nhim he saw a glistening boat; he stepped into it, and the boat went on\nand on beneath the moon, and at last he saw the mainland, and he could\ntrace a winding pathway going away from the shore. The sight filled\nhis heart with joy, but suddenly the milk-white moonshine died away,\nand looking up to the sky he saw the moon turning fiery red, and the\nwaters of the lake, shining like silver a moment before, took a\nblood-red hue, and a wind arose that stirred the waters, and they\nleaped up against the little boat, tossing it from side to side. While\nCuglas was wondering at the change, he heard a strange, unearthly\nnoise ahead of him, and a bristling monster, lifting its claws above\nthe water, in a moment was beside the boat and stuck one of his claws\nin the left arm of the prince, and pierced the flesh to the bone.\nMaddened by the pain the prince drew his sword and chopped off the\nmonster's claw. The monster disappeared beneath the lake, and, as it\ndid so, the colour of the water changed, and the silver moonlight\nshone down from the sky again, but the boat no longer went on towards\nthe mainland, but sped back towards the floating island, while forth\nfrom the island came a fleet of fairy boats to meet it, led by the\nshallop of the fairy queen. The queen greeted the prince as if she\nknew not of his attempted flight, and to the music of the harps the\nfleet returned to the palace.\n\nThe next day passed and the night came, and again the prince was lying\non the couch, thinking of the Princess Ailinn, and again he saw the\nshadow on the floor and heard the tapping against the window.\n\nAnd when he opened it the little woman slid into the room.\n\n\"You failed last night,\" she said, \"but I come to give you another\nchance. To-morrow the queen must set out on a visit to her fairy\nkinsmen, who dwell in the green hill near the plain of Tara; she\ncannot take you with her, for if your feet once touched the green\ngrass that grows in the fruitful fields of Erin, she could never bring\nyou back again. And so, when you find she has left the palace, go at\nonce into the banquet hall and look behind the throne, and you will\nsee a small door let down into the ground. Pull this up and descend\nthe steps which you will see. Where they lead to I cannot tell. What\ndangers may be before you I do not know; but this I know, if you\naccept anything, no matter what it is, from anyone you may meet on\nyour way, you shall not set foot on the soil of Erin.\"\n\nAnd having said this the little woman, rising from the floor, floated\nout through the window.\n\nThe prince returned to his couch, and the next morning, as soon as he\nheard the queen had left the palace, he hastened to the banquet hall.\nHe discovered the door and descended the steps, and he found himself\nin a gloomy and lonesome valley. Jagged mountains, black as night,\nrose on either side, and huge rocks seemed ready to topple down upon\nhim at every step. Through broken clouds a watery moon shed a faint,\nfitful light, that came and went as the clouds, driven by a moaning\nwind, passed over the valley.\n\nCuglas, nothing daunted, pushed on boldly until a bank of cloud shut\nout completely the struggling moon, and closing over the valley\ncovered it like a pall, leaving him in perfect darkness. At the same\nmoment the moaning wind died away, and with it died away all sound.\nThe darkness and the death-like silence sent an icy chill to the heart\nof Cuglas. He held his hand close to his eyes, but he saw it not. He\nshouted that he might hear the sound of his own voice, but he heard it\nnot. He stamped his foot on the rocky ground, but no sound was\nreturned to him. He rattled his sword in its brazen scabbard, but it\ngave no answer back to him. His heart grew colder and colder, when\nsuddenly the cloud above him was rent in a dozen places, and lightning\nflashed through the valley, and the thunder rolled over the echoing\nmountains. In the lurid glare of the lightning Cuglas saw a hundred\nghostly forms sweeping towards him, uttering as they came nearer and\nnearer shrieks so terrible that the silence of death could more easily\nbe borne. Cuglas turned to escape, but they hemmed him round, and\npressed their clammy hands upon his face.\n\nWith a yell of horror he drew his sword and slashed about him, and\nthat very moment the forms vanished, the thunder ceased, the dark\ncloud passed, and the sun shone out as bright as on a summer day, and\nthen Cuglas knew the forms he had seen were those of the wild people\nof the glen.[10]\n\nWith renewed courage he pursued his way through the valley, and after\nthree or four windings it took him out upon a sandy desert. He had no\nsooner set foot upon the desert than he heard behind him a crashing\nsound louder than thunder. He looked around, and he saw that the walls\nof mountain through which he had just passed had fallen into the\nvalley, and filled it up so that he could no longer tell where it had\nbeen.\n\nThe sun was beating fiercely on the desert, and the sands were almost\nas hot as burning cinders; and as Cuglas advanced over them his body\nbecame dried up, and his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth, and\nwhen his thirst was at its height a fountain of sparkling water sprang\nup in the burning plain a few paces in front of him; but when he came\nup quite close to it and stretched out his parched hands to cool them\nin the limped waters, the fountain vanished as suddenly as it\nappeared. With great pain, and almost choking with heat and thirst, he\nstruggled on, and again the fountain sprang up in front of him and\nmoved before him, almost within his reach. At last he came to the end\nof the desert, and he saw a green hill up which a pathway climbed; but\nas he came to the foot of the hill, there, sitting right in his way,\nwas a beautiful fairy holding out towards him a crystal cup, over the\nrim of which flowed water as clear as crystal. Unable to resist the\ntemptation, the prince seized the cold, bright goblet, and drank the\nwater. When he did so his thirst vanished, but the fairy, and the\ngreen hill, and the burning desert disappeared, and he was standing in\nthe forest behind the palace of the fairy queen.\n\nThat evening the queen returned, and at the feast she talked as gaily\nto the prince as if she knew not of his attempt to leave the Floating\nIsland, and the prince spoke as gaily as he could to her, although in\nhis heart there was sadness when he remembered that if he had only\ndashed away the crystal cup, he would be at that moment in the royal\nbanquet hall of Tara, sitting beside the Princess Ailinn.\n\nAnd he thought the feast would never end; but it was over at last, and\nthe prince returned to his apartments. And that night, as he lay on\nhis couch, he kept his eyes fixed upon the window; but hours passed,\nand there was no sign of anyone. At long last, and when he had given\nup all hope of seeing her, he heard a tapping at the window, and he\ngot up and opened it, and the little woman came in.\n\n\"You failed again to-day,\" said she--\"failed just at the very moment\nwhen you were about to step on the green hills of Erin. I can give you\nonly one chance more. It will be your last. The queen will go hunting\nin the morning. Join the hunt, and when you are separated from the\nrest of the party in the wood throw your reins upon your horse's neck\nand he will lead you to the edge of the lake. Then cast this golden\nbodkin into the lake in the direction of the mainland, and a golden\nbridge will be thrown across, over which you can pass safely to the\nfields of Erin; but take care and do not draw your sword, for if you\ndo your steed will bear you back again to the Floating Island, and\nhere you must remain for ever.\" Then handing the bodkin to the prince,\nand saying good-bye, the little woman disappeared.\n\nThe next morning the queen and the prince and all the court went out\nto hunt, and a fleet white deer started out before them, and the royal\nparty pressed after him in pursuit. The prince's steed outstripped the\nothers, and when he was alone the prince flung the reins upon his\nhorse's neck, and before long he came to the edge of the lake.\n\nThen the prince cast the bodkin on to the water, and a golden bridge\nwas thrown across to the mainland, and the horse galloped on to it,\nand when the prince was more than half-way he saw riding towards him a\nchampion wearing a silver helmet, and carrying on his left arm a\nsilver shield, and holding in his right hand a gleaming sword. As he\ncame nearer he struck his shield with his sword and challenged the\nprince to battle. The prince's sword almost leaped out of its scabbard\nat the martial sound, and, like a true knight of Tara, he dashed\nagainst his foe, and swinging his sword above his head, with one blow\nhe clove the silver helmet, and the strange warrior reeled from his\nhorse and fell upon the golden bridge. The prince, content with this\nachievement, spurred his horse to pass the fallen champion, but the\nhorse refused to stir, and the bridge broke in two almost at his feet,\nand the part of it between him and the mainland disappeared beneath\nthe lake, carrying with it the horse and the body of the champion, and\nbefore the prince could recover from his surprise, his steed wheeled\nround and was galloping back, and when he reached the land he rushed\nthrough the forest, and the prince was not able to pull him up until\nhe came to the palace door.\n\nAll that night the prince lay awake on his couch with his eyes fixed\nupon the window, but no shadow fell upon the floor, and there was no\ntapping at the pane, and with a heavy heart he joined the hunting\nparty in the morning. And day followed day, and his heart was sadder\nand sadder, and found no pleasure in the joys and delights of\nfairyland. And when all in the palace were at rest he used to roam\nthrough the forest, always thinking of the Princess Ailinn, and hoping\nagainst hope that the little woman would come again to him, but at\nlast he began to despair of ever seeing her. It chanced one night he\nrambled so far that he found himself on the verge of the lake, at the\nvery spot from which the golden bridge had been thrown across the\nwaters, and as he gazed wistfully upon them a boat shot up and came\nswiftly to the bank, and who should he see sitting in the stern but\nthe little woman.\n\n\"Ah, Cuglas, Cuglas,\" she said, \"I gave you three chances, and you\nfailed in all of them.\"\n\n\"I should have borne the pain inflicted by the monster's claw,\" said\nCuglas. \"I should have borne the thirst on the sandy desert, and\ndashed the crystal cup untasted from the fairy's hand; but I could\nnever have faced the nobles and chiefs of Erin if I had refused to\nmeet the challenge of the battle champion on the golden bridge.\"\n\n\"And you would have been no true knight of Erin, and you would not\nhave been worthy of the wee girl who loves you, the bonny Princess\nAilinn, if you had refused to meet it,\" said the little woman; \"but\nfor all that you can never return to the fair hills of Erin. But cheer\nup, Cuglas, there are mossy ways and forest paths and nestling bowers\nin fairyland. Lonely they are, I know, in your eyes now,\" said the\nlittle woman; \"but maybe,\" she added, with a laugh as musical as the\nripple on a streamlet when summer is in the air, \"maybe you won't\nalways think them so lonely.\"\n\n\"You think I'll forget Ailinn for the fairy queen,\" said Cuglas, with\na sigh.\n\n\"I don't think anything of the kind,\" said she.\n\n\"Then what do you mean?\" said the prince.\n\n\"Oh, I mean what I mean,\" said the little woman. \"But I can't stop\nhere all night talking to you: and, indeed, it is in your bed you\nought to be yourself. So now good night; and I have no more to say,\nexcept that perhaps, if you happen to be here this night week at this\nvery hour, when the moon will be on the waters, you will see----. But\nno matter what you will see,\" said she; \"I must be off.\"\n\nAnd before the prince could say another word the boat sped away from\nthe bank, and he was alone. He went back to the palace, and he fell\nasleep that night only to dream of the Princess Ailinn.\n\nAs for the princess, she was pining away in the palace of Tara, the\ncolour had fled from her cheeks, and her eyes, which had been once so\nbright they would have lighted darkness like a star, lost nearly all\ntheir lustre, and the king's leeches could do nothing for her, and at\nlast they gave up all hope, and the king and queen of Erin and the\nladies of the court watched her couch by night and by day sadly\nwaiting for her last hour.\n\nAt length one day, when the sun was shining brightly over Tara's\nplain, and its light, softened by the intervening curtains, was\nfalling in the sick chamber, the royal watchers noticed a sweet change\ncoming over the face of the princess; the bloom of love and youth were\nflushing on her cheeks, and from her eyes shone out the old, soft,\ntender light, and they began to hope she was about to be restored to\nthem, when suddenly the room was in darkness as if the night had swept\nacross the sky, and blotted out the sun. Then they heard the sound of\nfairy music, and over the couch where the princess lay they beheld a\ngleam of golden light, but only for a moment; and again there was\nperfect darkness, and the fairy music ceased. Then, as suddenly as it\ncame the darkness vanished, the softened sunlight once more filled the\nchamber, and rested upon the couch; but the couch was empty, and the\nroyal watchers, looking at each other, said in whispers: \"The fairies\nhave carried away the Princess Ailinn to fairyland.\"\n\nWell, that very day the prince roamed by himself through the forest,\ncounting the hours until the day would fade in the sky and the moon\ncome climbing up, and at last, when it was shining full above the\nwaters, he went down to the verge of the lake, and he looked out over\nthe gleaming surface watching for the vision promised by the little\nwoman. But he could see nothing, and was about to turn away when he\nheard the faint sound of fairy music. He listened and listened, and\nthe sound came nearer and clearer, and away in the distance, like\ndrops of glistening water breaking the level of the lake, he saw a\nfleet of fairy boats, and he thought it was the fairy queen sailing in\nthe moonlight. And it was the fairy queen, and soon he was able to\nrecognise the royal shallop leading the others, and as it came close\nto the bank he saw the little woman sitting in the prow between the\nlittle harpers, and at the stern was the fairy queen, and by her side\nthe lady of his heart, the Princess Ailinn. In a second the boat was\nagainst the bank, and the princess in his arms. And he kissed her\nagain and again.\n\n\"And have you never a kiss for me,\" said the little woman, tapping his\nhand with the little gold bodkin.\n\n\"A kiss and a dozen,\" said Cuglas, as he caught the little fairy up in\nhis arms.\n\n\"Oh, fie, Cuglas,\" said the queen.\n\n\"Oh, the princess isn't one bit jealous,\" said the little woman. \"Are\nyou, Ailinn?\"\n\n\"Indeed I am not,\" said Ailinn.\n\n\"And you should not be,\" said the fairy queen, \"for never lady yet had\ntruer knight than Cuglas. I loved him, and I love him dearly. I lured\nhim here hoping that in the delights of fairyland he might forget you.\nIt was all in vain. I know now that there is one thing no fairy power\nabove or below the stars, or beneath the waters, can ever subdue, and\nthat is love. And here together forever shall you and Cuglas dwell,\nwhere old age shall never come upon you, and where pain or sorrow or\nsickness are unknown.\"\n\nAnd Cuglas never returned to the fair hills of Erin, and ages passed\naway since the morning he followed the hounds into the fatal cave, but\nhis story was remembered by the firesides, and sometimes, even yet,\nthe herdboy watching his cattle in the fields hears the tuneful cry of\nhounds, and follows it till it leads him to a darksome cave, and as\nfearfully he listens to the sound becoming fainter and fainter he\nhears the clatter of hoofs over the stony floor, and to this day the\ncave bears the name of the prince who entered it never to return.\n[Footnote: _Uaimh Belaigh Conglais_, the cave of the road of\nCuglas--now Baltinglass--in the county Wicklow.]\n\n\n\n\nTHE HUNTSMAN'S SON.\n\n\nA long, long time ago there lived in a little hut on the borders of a\ngreat forest a huntsman and his wife and son. From his earliest years\nthe boy, whose name was Fergus, used to hunt with his father in the\nforest, and he grew up strong and active, sure and swift-footed as a\ndeer, and as free and fearless as the wind. He was tall and handsome;\nas supple as a mountain ash, his lips were as red as its berries; his\neyes were as blue as the skies in spring; and his hair fell down over\nhis shoulders like a shower of gold. His heart was as light as a\nbird's, and no bird was fonder of green woods and waving branches. He\nhad lived since his birth in the hut in the forest, and had never\nwished to leave it, until one winter night a wandering minstrel sought\nshelter there, and paid for his night's lodging with songs of love and\nbattle. Ever since that night Fergus pined for another life. He no\nlonger found joy in the music of the hounds or in the cries of the\nhuntsmen in forest glades. He yearned for the chance of battle, and\nthe clang of shields, and the fierce shouts of fighting warriors, and\nhe spent all his spare hours practising on the harp and learning the\nuse of arms, for in those days the bravest warriors were also bards.\nIn this way the spring and summer and autumn passed; and when the\nwinter came again it chanced that on a stormy night, when thunder was\nrattling through the forest, smiting the huge oaks and hurling them\ncrashing to the earth, Fergus lay awake thinking of his present lot,\nand wondering what the future might have in store for him. The\nlightning was playing around the hut, and every now and then a flash\nbrightened up the interior.\n\nAfter a peal, louder than any which had preceded it, Fergus heard\nthree loud knocks at the door. He called out to his parents that some\none was knocking.\n\n\"If that is so,\" said his father, \"open at once; this is no night to\nkeep a poor wanderer outside our door.\"\n\nFergus did as he was bidden, and as he opened the door a flash of\nlightning showed him, standing at the threshold, a little wizened old\nman with a small harp under his arm.\n\n\"Come in, and welcome,\" said Fergus, and the little man stepped into\nthe room.\n\n\"It is a wild night, neighbours,\" said he.\n\n\"It is, indeed, a wild night,\" said the huntsman and his wife, who had\ngot up and dressed themselves; \"and sorry we are we have no better\nshelter or better fare to offer you, but we give you the best we\nhave.\"\n\n\"A king cannot do more than his best,\" said the little man.\n\nThe huntsman's wife lit the fire, and soon the pine logs flashed up\ninto a blaze, and made the hut bright and warm. She then brought forth\na peggin of milk and a cake of barley-bread.\n\n\"You must be hungry, sir,\" she said.\n\n\"Hungry I am,\" said he; \"but I wouldn't ask for better fare than this\nif I were in the king's palace.\"\n\n\"Thank you kindly, sir,\" said she, \"and I hope you will eat enough,\nand that it will do you good.\"\n\n\"And while you are eating your supper,\" said the huntsman, \"I'll make\nyou a bed of fresh rushes.\"\n\n\"Don't put yourself to that trouble,\" said the little man. \"When I\nhave done my supper I'll lie down here by the fire, if it is pleasing\nto you, and I'll sleep like a top until morning. And now go back to\nyour beds and leave me to myself, and maybe some time when you won't\nbe expecting it I'll do a good turn for your kindness to the poor\nwayfarer.\"\n\n\"Oh, it's no kindness at all,\" said the huntsman's wife. \"It would be\na queer thing if an Irish cabin would not give shelter and welcome in\na wild night like this. So good night, now, and we hope you will\nsleep well.\"\n\n\"Good night,\" said the little man, \"and may you and yours never sup\nsorrow until your dying day.\"\n\nThe huntsman and his wife and Fergus then went back to their beds, and\nthe little man, having finished his supper, curled himself up by the\nfire, and was soon fast asleep.\n\nAbout an hour after a loud clap of thunder awakened Fergus, and before\nit had died away he heard three knocks at the door. He aroused his\nparents and told them.\n\n\"Get up at once,\" said his mother, \"this is no night to keep a\nstranger outside our door.\"\n\nFergus rose and opened the door, and a flash of lightning showed him a\nlittle old woman, with a shuttle in her hand, standing outside.\n\n\"Come in, and welcome,\" said he, and the little old woman stepped into\nthe room.\n\n\"Blessings be on them who give welcome to a wanderer on a wild night\nlike this,\" said the old woman.\n\n\"And who wouldn't give welcome on a night like this?\" said the\nhuntsman's wife, coming forward with a peggin of milk and a barley\ncake in her hand, \"and sorry we are we have not better fare to offer\nyou.\"\n\n\"Enough is as good as a feast,\" said the little woman, \"and now go\nback to your beds and leave me to myself.\"\n\n\"Not till I shake down a bed of rushes for you,\" said the huntsman's\nwife.\n\n\"Don't mind the rushes,\" said the little woman; \"go back to your beds.\nI'll sleep here by the fire.\"\n\nThe huntsman's wife went to bed, and the little old woman, having\neaten her supper, lay down by the fire, and was soon fast asleep.\n\nAbout an hour later another clap of thunder startled Fergus. Again he\nheard three knocks at the door. He roused his parents, but he did not\nwait for orders from them. He opened the door, and a flash of\nlightning showed him outside the threshold a low-sized, shaggy,\nwild-looking horse. And Fergus knew it was the Pooka, the wild horse\nof the mountains. Bold as Fergus was, his heart beat quickly as he saw\nfire issuing from the Pooka's nostrils. But, banishing fear, he cried\nout:\n\n\"Come in, and welcome.\"\n\n\"Welcome you are,\" said the huntsman, \"and sorry we are that we have\nnot better shelter or fare to offer you.\"\n\n\"I couldn't wish a better welcome,\" said the Pooka, as he came over\nnear the fire and sat down on his haunches.\n\n\"Maybe you would like a little bit of this, Master Pooka,\" said the\nhuntsman's wife, as she offered him a barley cake.\n\n\"I never tasted anything sweeter in my life,\" said the Pooka,\ncrunching it between his teeth, \"and now if you can give me a sup of\nmilk, I'll want for nothing.\"\n\nThe huntsman's wife brought him a peggin of milk. When he had drunk\nit, \"Now,\" says the Pooka, \"go back to your beds, and I'll curl myself\nup by the fire and sleep like a top till morning.\"\n\nAnd soon everybody in the hut was fast asleep.\n\nWhen the morning came the storm had gone, and the sun was shining\nthrough the windows of the hut. At the song of the lark Fergus got up,\nand no one in the world was ever more surprised than he when he saw no\nsign of the little old man, or the little old woman, or the wild horse\nof the mountains. His parents were also surprised, and they all\nthought that they must have been dreaming until they saw the empty\npeggins around the fire and some pieces of broken bread; and they did\nnot know what to think of it all.\n\nFrom that day forward the desire grew stronger in the heart of Fergus\nfor a change of life; and one day he told his parents that he was\nresolved to seek his fortune. He said he wished to be a soldier, and\nthat he would set out for the king's palace, and try to join the ranks\nof the Feni.\n\nAbout a week afterwards he took leave of his parents, and having\nreceived their blessing he struck out for the road that led to the\npalace of the High King of Erin. He arrived there just at the time\nwhen the great captain of the Fenian host was recruiting his\nbattalions, which had been thinned in recent battle.\n\nThe manly figure of Fergus, his gallant bearing, and handsome face,\nall told in his favour. But before he could be received into the\nFenian ranks he had to prove that he could play the harp like a bard,\nthat he could contend with staff and shield against nine Fenian\nwarriors, that he could run with plaited hair through the tangled\nforest without loosening a single hair, and that in his course he\ncould jump over trees as high as his head, and stoop under trees as\nlow as his knee, and that he could run so lightly that the rotten\ntwigs should not break under his feet. Fergus proved equal to all the\ntests, thanks to the wandering minstrel who taught him the use of the\nharp, to his own brave heart, and to his forest training. He was\nenrolled in the second battalion of the Feni, and before long he was\nits bravest and ablest champion.\n\nAt that very time it happened that the niece of the High King of Erin\nwas staying with the king and queen in their palace at Tara. The\nprincess was the loveliest lady in all the land. She was as proud as\nshe was beautiful. The princes and chieftains of Erin in vain sought\nher hand in marriage. From Alba and Spain, and the far-off isles of\nGreece, kings came to woo her. From the northern lands came vikings in\nstately galleys with brazen prows, whose oarsmen tore the white foam\nfrom the emerald seas as they swept towards the Irish coasts. But the\nlady had vowed she would wed with no one except a battle champion who\ncould excel in music the chief bard of the High King of Erin; who\ncould outstrip on his steed in the great race of Tara the white steed\nof the plains; and who could give her as a wedding robe a garment of\nall the colours of the rainbow, so finely spun that when folded up it\nwould fit in the palm of her small white hand. To fulfil these three\nconditions was impossible for all her suitors, and it seemed as if the\nloveliest lady of the land should go unmarried to her grave.\n\nIt chanced that once, on a day when the Fenian battalions were engaged\nin a hurling-match, Fergus beheld the lady watching the match from her\nsunny bower. He no sooner saw her than he fell over head and ears in\nlove with her, and he thought of her by night, and he thought of her\nby day, and believing that his love was hopeless, he often wished he\nhad never left his forest-home.\n\nThe great fair of Tara[11] was coming on, and all the Feni were busy\nfrom morning till night practising feats of arms and games, in order\nto take part in the contests to be held during the fair. And Fergus,\nknowing that the princess would be present, determined to do his best\nto win the prizes which were to be contended for before the ladies'\neyes.\n\nThe fair began on the 1st of August, but for a whole week before the\nfive great roads of Erin were thronged with people of all sorts.\nPrinces and warriors on their steeds, battle champions in their\nchariots, harpers in hundreds, smiths with gleaming spears and shields\nand harness for battle steeds and chariots; troops of men and boys\nleading racehorses; jewellers with gold drinking-horns, and\nbrooches, and pins, and ear-rings, and costly gems of all kinds, and\nchess-boards of silver and gold, and golden and silver chessmen in\nbags of woven brass; dyers with their many-coloured fabrics; bands\nof jugglers; drovers goading on herds of cattle; shepherds driving\ntheir sheep; huntsmen with spoils of the chase; dwellers in the lakes\nor by the fish-abounding rivers with salmon and speckled trout; and\ncountless numbers of peasants on horseback and on foot, all wending\ntheir way to the great meeting-place by the mound, which a thousand\nyears before had been raised over the grave of the great queen. For\nthere the fair was to be held.\n\nOn the opening day the High King, attended by the four kings of Erin,\nset out from the palace, and with them went the queen and the ladies\nof the court in sparkling chariots. The princess rode in the chariot\nwith the high queen, under an awning made of the wings of birds, to\nprotect them from the rays of the sun. Following the queen were the\ncourt ladies in other chariots, under awnings of purple or of yellow\nsilk. Then came the brehons, the great judges of the land, and the\nchief bards of the high court of Tara, and the Druids, crowned with\noak leaves, and carrying wands of divination in their hands.\n\nWhen the royal party reached the ground it took its place in\nenclosures right up against the monumental mound. The High King sat\nwith the four kings of Erin, all wearing their golden helmets, for\nthey wore their diadems in battle only. In an enclosure next the\nking's sat the queen and the princess and all the ladies of the court.\nAt either side of the royal pavilions were others for the dames and\nladies and nobles and chiefs of different degrees, forming part of a\ncircle on the plain, and the stands and benches for the people were so\narranged as to complete the circle, and in the round green space\nwithin it, so that all might hear and see, the contests were to take\nplace.\n\nAt a signal from the king, who was greeted with a thunderous\ncheer, the heralds rode round the circle, and having struck their\nsounding shields three times with their swords, they made a solemn\nproclamation of peace. Then was sung by all the assembled bards,\nto the accompaniment of their harps, the chant in honour of the\nmighty dead. When this was ended, again the heralds struck their\nshields, and the contests began. The first contest was the contest\nof spear-throwing between the champions of the seven battalions of\nthe Feni. When the seven champions took their places in front of the\nroyal enclosure, everyone, even the proud princess, was struck by\nthe manly beauty and noble bearing of Fergus.\n\nThe champions poised their spears, and at a stroke from the heralds\nupon their shields the seven spears sped flashing through the air.\nThey all struck the ground, shafts up, and it was seen that two were\nstanding side by side in advance of the rest, one belonged to Fergus,\nthe other to the great chief, Oscar. The contest for the prize then\nlay between Oscar and Fergus, and when they stood in front of the\nking, holding their spears aloft, every heart was throbbing with\nexcitement. Once more the heralds struck their shields, and, swifter\nthan the lightning's flash, forth went the spears, and when Fergus's\nspear was seen shivering in the ground a full length ahead of the\ngreat chief Oscar's, the air was shaken by a wild cheer that was\nheard far beyond the plains of Tara. And as Fergus approached the high\nking to receive the prize the cheers were renewed. But Fergus thought\nmore of the winsome glance of the princess than he did of the prize or\nthe sounding cheers. And Princess Maureen was almost sorry for her\nvow, for her heart was touched by the beauty of the Fenian champion.\n\nOther contests followed, and the day passed, and the night fell, and\nwhile the Fenian warriors were revelling in their camps the heart of\nFergus, victor as he was, was sad and low. He escaped from his\ncompanions, and stole away to his native forest, for--\n\n                 \"When the heart is sick and sorest,\n                 There is balsam in the forest--\n                 There is balsam in the forest\n                                     For its pain.\"\n\nAnd as he lay under the spreading branches, watching the stars\nglancing through the leaves, and listening to the slumb'rous murmur of\nthe waters, a strange peace came over him.\n\nBut in the camp which he had left, and in the vast multitude on the\nplains of Tara, there was stir and revelry, and babbling speculation\nas to the contest of to-morrow--the contest which was to decide\nwhether the chief bard of Erin was to hold his own against all\ncomers, or yield the palm. For rumour said that a great Skald had come\nfrom the northern lands to compete with the Irish bard.\n\nAt last, over the Fenian camp, and over the great plain and the\nmultitude that thronged it, sleep fell, clothing them with a silence\nas deep as that which dwelt in the forest, where, dreaming of the\nprincess, Fergus lay. He awoke at the first notes of the birds, but\nthough he felt he ought to go back to his companions and be witness of\nthe contest which might determine whether the princess was to be\nanother's bride, his great love and his utter despair of winning her\nso oppressed him that he lay as motionless as a broken reed. He\nscarcely heard the music of the birds, and paid no heed to the murmur\nof the brook rushing by his feet. The crackling of branches near him\nbarely disturbed him, but when a shadow fell across his eyes he looked\nup gloomily, and saw, or thought he saw, someone standing before him.\nHe started up, and who should he see but the little wizened old man\nwho found shelter in his father's hut on the stormy night.\n\n[Illustration: \"He started up, and who should he see but a little wizened\nold man\"--p. 136.]\n\n\"This is a nice place for a battle champion to be. This is a nice\nplace for _you_ to be on the day which is to decide who will be the\nsuccessful suitor of the princess.\"\n\n\"What is it to me,\" said Fergus, \"who is to win her since I cannot.\"\n\n\"I told you,\" said the little man, \"the night you opened the door for\nme, that the time might come when I might be able to do a good turn\nfor you and yours. The time has come. Take this harp, and my luck go\nwith you, and in the contest of the bards to-day you'll reap the\nreward of the kindness you did when you opened your door to the poor\nold wayfarer in the midnight storm.\"\n\nThe little man handed his harp to Fergus and disappeared as swiftly as\nthe wind that passes through the leaves.\n\nFergus, concealing the harp under his silken cloak, reached the camp\nbefore his comrades had aroused themselves from sleep.\n\nAt length the hour arrived when the great contest was to take place.\n\nThe king gave the signal, and as the chief bard of Erin was seen\nascending the mound in front of the royal enclosures he was greeted\nwith a roar of cheers, but at the first note of his harp silence like\nthat of night fell on the mighty gathering.\n\nAs he moved his fingers softly over the strings every heart was\nhushed, filled with a sense of balmy rest. The lark soaring and\nsinging above his head paused mute and motionless in the still air,\nand no sound was heard over the spacious plain save the dreamy music.\nThen the bard struck another key, and a gentle sorrow possessed the\nhearts of his hearers, and unbidden tears gathered to their eyes.\nThen, with bolder hand, he swept his fingers across his lyre, and all\nhearts were moved to joy and pleasant laughter, and eyes that had been\ndimmed by tears sparkled as brightly as running waters dancing in the\nsun. When the last notes had died away a cheer arose, loud as the\nvoice of the storm in the glen when the live thunder is revelling on\nthe mountain tops. As soon as the bard had descended the mound the\nSkald from the northern lands took his place, greeted by cries of\nwelcome from a hundred thousand throats. He touched his harp, and in\nthe perfect silence was heard the strains of the mermaid's song, and\nthrough it the pleasant ripple of summer waters on the pebbly beach.\nThen the theme was changed, and on the air was borne the measured\nsweep of countless oars and the swish of waters around the prows of\ncontending galleys, and the breezy voices of the sailors and the\nsea-bird's cry. Then his theme was changed to the mirth and laughter\nof the banquet-hall, the clang of meeting drinking-horns, and songs of\nbattle. When the last strain ended, from the mighty host a great shout\nwent up, loud as the roar of winter billows breaking in the hollows of\nthe shore; and men knew not whom to declare the victor, the chief\nbard of Erin or the Skald of the northern lands.\n\nIn the height of the debate the cry arose that another competitor had\nascended the mound, and there standing in view of all was Fergus, the\nhuntsman's son. All eyes were fastened upon him, but no one looked so\neagerly as the princess.\n\nHe touched his harp with gentle fingers, and a sound low and soft as a\nfaint summer breeze passing through forest trees stole out, and then\nwas heard the rustle of birds through the branches, and the dreamy\nmurmur of waters lost in deepest woods, and all the fairy echoes\nwhispering when the leaves are motionless in the noonday heat; then\nfollowed notes cool and soft as the drip of summer showers on the\nparched grass, and then the song of the blackbird, sounding as clearly\nas it sounds in long silent spaces of the evening, and then in one\nsweet jocund burst the multitudinous voices that hail the breaking of\nthe morn. And the lark, singing and soaring above the minstrel, sank\nmute and motionless upon his shoulder, and from all the leafy woods\nthe birds came thronging out and formed a fluttering canopy above his\nhead.\n\nWhen the bard ceased playing no shout arose from the mighty multitude,\nfor the strains of his harp, long after its chords were stilled, held\ntheir hearts spell-bound.\n\nAnd when he had passed away from the mound of contest all knew there\nwas no need to declare the victor.[12] And all were glad the comely\nFenian champion had maintained the supremacy of the bards of Erin. But\nthere was one heart sad, the heart of the princess; and now she wished\nmore than ever that she had never made her hateful vow.\n\nOther contests went on, but Fergus took no interest in them; and once\nmore he stole away to the forest glade. His heart was sorrowful, for\nhe thought of the great race of the morning, and he knew that he could\nnot hope to compete with the rider of the white steed of the plains.\nAnd as he lay beneath the spreading branches during the whole night\nlong his thoughts were not of the victory he had won, but of the\nprincess, who was as far away from him as ever. He passed the night\nwithout sleep, and when the morning came he rose and walked aimlessly\nthrough the woods.\n\nA deer starting from a thicket reminded him of the happy days of his\nboyhood, and once more the wish came back to him that he had never\nleft his forest home. As his eyes followed the deer wistfully,\nsuddenly he started in amazement. The deer vanished from view, and in\nhis stead was the wild horse of the mountains.\n\n\"I told you I'd do you a good turn,\" said the Pooka, \"for the\nkindness you and yours did me on that wild winter's night. The day is\npassing. You have no time to lose. The white steed of the plains is\ncoming to the starting-post. Jump on my back, and remember, 'Faint\nheart never won fair lady.'\"\n\nIn half a second Fergus was bestride the Pooka, whose coat of shaggy\nhair became at once as glossy as silk, and just at the very moment\nwhen the king was about to declare there was no steed to compete with\nthe white steed of the plains, the Pooka with Fergus upon his back,\ngalloped up in front of the royal enclosure. When the people saw the\nchampion a thunderous shout rose up that startled the birds in the\nskies, and sent them flying to the groves.\n\nAnd in the ladies' enclosure was a rustle of many-coloured scarves\nwaving in the air. At the striking of the shields the contending\nsteeds rushed from the post with the swiftness of a swallow's flight.\nBut before the white steed of the plains had gone half-way round,\nFergus and the wild horse of the mountains had passed the winning\npost, greeted by such cheers as had never before been heard on the\nplains of Tara.\n\nFergus heard the cheers, but scarcely heeded them, for his heart went\nout through his eyes that were fastened on the princess, and a wild\nhope stirred him that his glance was not ungrateful to the loveliest\nlady of the land.\n\nAnd the princess was sad and sorry for her vow, for she believed that\nit was beyond the power of Fergus to bring her a robe of all the\ncolours of the rainbow, so subtly woven as to fit in the palm of her\nsoft, white hand.\n\nThat night also Fergus went to the forest, not too sad, because there\nwas a vague hope in his heart that had never been there before. He lay\ndown under the branches, with his feet towards the rustling waters,\nand the smiles of the princess gilded his slumbers, as the rays of the\nrising sun gild the glades of the forest; and when the morning came he\nwas scarcely surprised when before him appeared the little old woman\nwith the shuttle he had welcomed on the winter's night.\n\n\"You think you have won her already,\" said the little woman. \"And so\nyou have, too; her heart is all your own, and I'm half inclined to\nthink that my trouble will be thrown away, for if you had never a\nwedding robe to give her, she'd rather have you this minute than all\nthe kings of Erin, or than all the other princes and kings and\nchieftains in the whole world. But you and your father and mother were\nkind to me on a wild winter's night, and I'd never see your mother's\nson without a wedding robe fit for the greatest princess that ever\nset nations to battle for her beauty. So go and pluck me a handful of\nwild forest flowers, and I'll weave out of them a wedding robe with\nall the colours of the rainbow, and one that will be as sweet and as\nfragrant as the ripe, red lips of the princess herself.\"\n\nFergus, with joyous heart, culled the flowers, and brought them to the\nlittle old woman.\n\nIn the twinkling of an eye she wove with her little shuttle a wedding\nrobe, with all the colours of the rainbow, as light as the fairy dew,\nas soft as the hand of the princess, as fragrant as her little red\nmouth, and so small that it would pass through the eye of a needle.\n\n\"Go now, Fergus,\" said she, \"and may luck go with you; but, in the\ndays of your greatness and of the glory which will come to you when\nyou are wedded to the princess, be as kind, and have as open a heart\nand as open a door for the poor as you had when you were only a poor\nhuntsman's son.\"\n\nFergus took the robe and went towards Tara. It was the last day of the\nfair, and all the contests were over, and the bards were about to\nchant the farewell strains to the memory of the great queen. But\nbefore the chief bard could ascend the mound, Fergus, attended by a\ntroop of Fenian warriors on their steeds, galloped into the enclosure,\nand rode up in front of the queen's pavilion. Holding up the glancing\nand many-coloured robe, he said:\n\n\"O Queen and King of Erin! I claim the princess for my bride. You, O\nking, have decided that I have won the prize in the contest of the\nbards; that I have won the prize in the race against the white steed\nof the plains; it is for the princess to say if the robe which I give\nher will fit in the hollow of her small white hand.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the king. \"You are victor in the contests; let the\nprincess declare if you have fulfilled the last condition.\"\n\nThe princess took the robe from Fergus, closed her fingers over it, so\nthat no vestige of it was seen.\n\n\"Yes, O king!\" said she, \"he has fulfilled the last condition; but\nbefore ever he had fulfilled a single one of them, my heart went out\nto the comely champion of the Feni. I was willing then, I am ready\nnow, to become the bride of the huntsman's son.\"\n\n\n\n\nNOTES.\n\n\nI.\n\n_The Birds of the Mystic Lake._\n\nThe incident of the birds coming to the mystic lake is taken from \"The\nVoyage of Maildun,\" a translation of which is given in Joyce's Old\nCeltic Romances. The operations of the birds were witnessed by Maildun\nand his companions, who, in the course of their wanderings, had\narrived at the Isle of the Mystic Lake. One of Maildun's companions,\nDiuran, on seeing the wonder, said to the others: \"Let us bathe in the\nlake, and we shall obtain a renewal of our youth like the birds.\"\n\nBut they said: \"Not so, for the bird has left the poison of his old\nage and decay in the water.\"\n\n_Diuran_, however, plunged in, and swam about for some time; after\nwhich he took a little of the water and mixed it in his mouth, and in\nthe end he swallowed a small quantity. He then came out perfectly\nsound and whole, and remained so ever after as long as he lived. But\nnone of the others ventured in.\n\nThe return of the birds in the character of the cormorants of the\nwestern seas and guardians of the lake does not occur in the old tale.\nThe oldest copy of the voyage is in the book of \"The Dun Cow\" (about\nthe year 1100). O'Curry says the voyage was undertaken about the year\n700. It was made by Maildun in search of pirates who had slain his\nfather. The story is full of fancy.\n\n\nII.\n\n_The House in the Lake._\n\nIn the Irish annals lake dwellings, which were formerly common in\nIreland, are called _crannogs_, from crann, a tree, either because of\nthe timber framework of which the island was formed or of the wooden\nhuts erected thereon.\n\nSome _crannogs_ appear to have been veritable islands, the only means\nof communication with the land being canoes. Remains of these have\nbeen frequently found near the dwelling, in some instances alongside\nthe landing stage, as if sunk at their moorings.\n\n\"Favourite sites for _crannogs_ were marshes, small loughs surrounded\nby woods and large sheets of water. As providing good fishing grounds\nthe entrance to or exit of a stream from a lake was eagerly\nselected.\"--\"Lake Dwellings of Ireland,\" Col. Wood Martin, M.R.I.A.\n\n\nIII.\n\n_Brian's Water-dress._\n\nBrian, Ur, and Urcar, the three sons of Turenn, were Dedanaan chiefs.\nThey slew Kian, the father of Luga of the Long Arms, who was grandson\nof Balor of the Evil Eye. Luga imposed an extraordinary eric fine on\nthe sons of Turenn, part of which was \"the cooking-spit of the women\nof Fincara.\" For a quarter of a year Brian and his brothers sailed\nhither and thither over the wide ocean, landing on many shores,\nseeking tidings of the Island of Fincara. At last they met a very old\nman, who told them that the island lay deep down in the waters, having\nbeen sunk beneath the waves by a spell in times long past.\n\nThen Brian put on his water-dress, with his helmet of transparent\ncrystal on his head, telling his brothers to wait his return. He\nleaped over the side of the ship, and sank at once out of sight. He\nwalked about for a fortnight down in the green salt sea, seeking for\nthe Island of Fincara, and at last he found it.\n\nHis brothers waited for him in the same spot the whole time, and when\nhe came not they began to fear he would return no more. At last they\nwere about to leave the place, when they saw the glitter of his\ncrystal helmet deep down in the water, and immediately after he came\nto the surface with the cooking-spit in his hand.--\"Old Celtic\nRomances\" (Joyce), p. 87.\n\n\nIV.\n\n_The Palace of the Little Cat._\n\nThe description of the rows of jewels ranged round the wall of the\npalace of the Little Cat is taken from \"The Voyage of Maildun.\"--See\nNote I.\n\n\nV.\n\n_Liban the Mermaid._\n\nLiban was the daughter of Ecca, son of Mario, King of Munster. Ecca,\nhaving conquered the lordship of the half of Ulster, settled down with\nhis people in the plain of the Grey Copse, which is now covered by the\nwaters of Lough Necca, now Lough Neagh. A magic well had sprung up in\nthe plain, and not being properly looked after by the woman in charge\nof it, its waters burst forth over the plain, drowning Ecca and nearly\nall his family. Liban, although swept away like the others, was not\ndrowned. She lived for a whole year, with her lap-dog, in a chamber\nbeneath the lake, and God protected her from the water. At the end of\nthat time she was weary, and when she saw the speckled salmon swimming\nand playing all round her, she prayed to be changed into a salmon that\nshe might swim with the others through the green, salt sea. Her prayer\nwas granted; she took the shape of a salmon, except her face and\nbreast, which did not change. And her lap-dog was changed into an\notter, and attended her afterwards whithersoever she went as long as\nshe lived in the sea.\n\nIt is nearly eight hundred years ago since the story was transcribed\nfrom some old authority into the Book of the Dun Cow, the oldest\nmanuscript of Gaelic literature we possess.--Joyce's \"Old Celtic\nRomances,\" p. 97.\n\n\nVI.\n\n_The Fairy Tree of Dooros._\n\nThe forest of Dooros was in the district of Hy Fiera of the Moy (now\nthe barony of Tireragh, in Sligo).\n\nOn a certain occasion the Dedanns, returning from a hurling match with\nthe Feni, passed through the forest, carrying with them for food\nduring the journey crimson nuts, and arbutus apples, and scarlet\nquicken-berries, which they had brought from the Land of Promise. One\nof the quicken-berries dropped on the earth, and the Dedanns passed on\nnot heeding.\n\nFrom this berry a great quicken-tree sprang up, which had the virtues\nof the quicken-trees that grow in fairyland. Its berries had the taste\nof honey, and those who ate of them felt a cheerful glow, as if they\nhad drunk of wine or old mead, and if a man were even a hundred years\nold he returned to the age of thirty as soon as he had eaten three of\nthem.\n\nThe Dedanns having heard of this tree, and not wishing that anyone\nshould eat of the berries but themselves, sent a giant of their own\npeople to guard it, namely, Sharvan the Surly, of Lochlann.--\"The\nPursuit of Diarmuid and Grania,\" \"Old Celtic Romances,\" p. 313\n(Joyce).\n\n\nVII.\n\n_Prince Cuglas._\n\nIn the list of the historic tales mentioned in the Book of Leinster,\nand which is given in O'Curry's appendix to his \"Lectures on the MSS.\nMaterials of Ancient Irish History,\" \"The Cave of the Road of Cuglas\"\nfinds place. O'Curry has the following note:--\n\n\"Cuglas was the son of Donn Desa, King of Leinster, and master of the\nhounds to the monarch Conaire Mor. Having one day followed the chase\nfrom Tara to this road, the chase suddenly disappeared in a cave, into\nwhich he followed, and was _never seen after_. Hence the cave was\ncalled _Uaimh Bealach Conglais_, or the cave of the road of Cuglas\n(now Baltinglass, in the County of Wicklow). It is about this cave,\nnevertheless, that so many of our pretended Irish antiquarians have\nwritten so much nonsense in connection with some imaginary pagan\nworship to which they gravely assure the world, on etymological\nauthority, the spot was devoted. The authority for the legend of\nCuglas is the _Dinnoean Chus_ on the place _Bealach Conglais_ (Book of\nLecain). The full tale has not come down to us.\"\n\n\nVIII.\n\n_The Herald._\n\n\"Here comes a single champion towards us, O _Cuchulain_,\" said _Laegh_\n(Cuchulain's charioteer). \"What sort of a champion is he?\" said\n_Cuchulain_. \"A brown-haired, broad faced, beautiful youth; a splendid\nbrown cloak on him; a bright bronze spear-like brooch fastening his\ncloak. A full and well-fitting shirt to his skin. Two firm shoes\nbetween his two feet and the ground. A hand-staff of white hazel in\none hand of his; a single-edged sword with a sea-horse hilt in his\nother hand.\" \"Good, my lad,\" said _Cuchulain_; \"these are the tokens\nof a herald.\"--Description of the herald _MacRoath_ in the story of\nthe Tain bo Chuailgne.--O'Curry's \"Manners and Customs of the Ancient\nIrish,\" Vol. II., p. 301.\n\n\nIX.\n\n_Golden Bells._\n\nIn O'Curry's \"Lectures on the Manners and Customs of the Ancient\nIrish\" are several dazzling descriptions of cavalcades taken from the\nold tales. Silver and golden bells are frequently mentioned as part of\nthe horse furniture.\n\n\nX.\n\n_The Wild People of the Glen._\n\n\"And then he put on his helmet of battle and of combat and of\nfighting, from every recess and from every angle of which issued the\nshout as it were of an hundred warriors; because it was alike that\nwoman of the valley (_de bananaig_), and hobgoblins (_bacanaig_), _and\nwild people of the glen (geinti glindi)_, and demons of the air\n(_demna acoir_), shouted in front of it, and in rear of it, and over\nit, and around it, wherever he went, at the spurting of blood, and of\nheroes upon it.\"\n\nDescription of Cuchulain's helmet in the story of The _Tain bo\nChuailgne_.--\"O'Curry's Manners and Customs of the Ancient Irish,\"\nVol. II., p. 301.\n\n\nXI.\n\n_The Fair of Tara._\n\n\"The great fairs anciently held in Ireland were not like their modern\nrepresentatives, mere markets, but were assemblies of the people to\ncelebrate funeral games, and other religious rites; during pagan times\nto hold parliaments, promulgate laws, listen to the recitation of\ntales and poems, engage in or witness contests in feats of arms,\nhorse-racing, and other popular games. They were analogous in many\nways to the Olympian and other celebrated games of ancient Greece.\n\n\"These assemblies were regulated by a strict by-law, a breach of which\nwas punishable by death. Women were especially protected, a certain\nplace being set apart for their exclusive use, as a place was set\napart at one side of the lists of mediaeval tournaments for the Queen\nof Beauty and the other ladies.\n\n\"At the opening of the assembly there was always a solemn proclamation\nof peace, and the king who held the fair awarded prizes to the most\nsuccessful poets, musicians, and professors and masters of every\nart.\"--See Dr. Sullivan's \"Introduction to O'Curry's Lectures.\"\n\n\nXII.\n\n_The Contest of the Bards._\n\n\"The three musical feats of the _Daghda_, a celebrated Dedanann chief\nand Druid, were the _Suantraighe_, which from its deep murmuring\ncaused sleep. The _Goltraighe_, which from its meltive plaintiveness\ncaused weeping, and the Goltraighe, which from its merriment caused\nlaughter.\n\n\"_Bose_, the great Norse harper, could give on his harp the\nGyarslager, or stroke of the sea gods, which produced mermaids'\nmusic.\"--O'Curry's Lectures.\n\n\n\n\n                  *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nTranscriber's Notes:\n\n    Typographical problems have been changed and are listed below.\n    Author's archaic and variable spelling is preserved.\n    Author's punctuation style is preserved.\n    Passages in italics indicated by _underscores_.\n\nTranscriber's Changes:\n\n    his own motion, with scarce a word of encouragement[** Was\n    'encourage ment' over line break]\n\n    myself before that day. Then the king[** Was 'King'] asked\n\n    the door. Around, outside[** Was 'ouside'] the hut, on a level\n    with\n\n    name,\" said the cat,[** Changed '.' to ','] \"I am a friend of\n    yours,\n\n    Princess Kathleen, and you can either go or stay.\"[** Added\n    closing double-quote]\n\n    beneath the waters.[** Changed ',' to '.'] The white steed pulled\n    up\n\n    \"Don't be frightened, little man,\" said he,[** Added comma] \"and\n\n    darkness. Cuglas[** Was 'Cuglass'] could hear ahead of him the\n\n    \"You are welcome, Cuglas[** Was 'Cuglass'],\" said the queen, as\n\n    could run so lightly that the rotten twigs[** Was 'twigg'] should\n\n    world, on etymological[** Was 'entymological'] authority, the spot\n    was devoted.\n\n    the story of the Tain bo Chuailgne[** Was 'Chuaillgne'].--O'Curry's\n    \"Manners\n\n    the Ancient Irish\" are several dazzling descriptions of\n    cavalcades[** Was 'calvacades']\n\n    of it, and in rear of it,[** Added comma] and over it, and around\n    it, wherever he\n\n    and other popular games. They were analogous[** Was 'analagous']\n    in many ways\n\n    \"These[** Added opening double-quote] assemblies were regulated by\n    a strict by-law, a breach\n\n    \"At[** Added opening double-quote] the opening of the assembly\n    there was always a solemn\n\n    \"_Bose_[** Added opening double-quote], the great Norse harper,\n    could give on his harp the","title":"Irish Fairy Tales","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":38839}