Books: The King of Ireland\'s Son
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Padraic Colum >> The King of Ireland\'s Son
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Then he thought he would eat some of the cake that Morag had baked for him. He
sat down and broke it. Then as he ate it the thought of Morag came into his
mind. He thought he was looking at her putting the cake on the griddle. He
went a little way along the river and then he began to feel lonesome. He
turned back, "I'll go to Crom Duv's House," said he, "and show Morag the way
to escape. And then she and I will follow the river, and I won't be lonesome
while she's with me."
So back along the Hunter's Path Flann went. He came to the Moat of Poisoned
Water. He found a deer-skin and pushed it into the water and then swam
cautiously across the moat. He climbed the wall then, and when he put his head
above it he saw Morag. She was watching for him.
"Crom Duv has not come back yet," said she, "but oh, my dear, my dear, I can't
prevent the yellow cats from watching you come over the wall."
First six cats came and then another six and they sat round and watched Flann
come down the wall. They did nothing to him, but when he came down on the
ground they followed him wherever he went.
"You crossed the moat," said Morag, "then why did you come back?"
"I came back," said Flann, "to bring you with me."
"But," said she, "I cannot leave Crom Duv's house."
"I'll show you how to cross the moat," said he, "and we'll both be glad to be
going by the moving river."
Tears came into Morag's eyes. "I'd go with you, my dear," said she, "but I
cannot leave Crom Duv's house until I get what I came for."
"And what did you come for, Morag?" said he.
"I came," said she, "for two of the rowan berries that grow on the Fairy Rowan
Tree in Crom Duv's court-yard. I know now that to get these berries is the
hardest task in the world. Come within," said she, "and if we sit long enough
at the supper-board I will tell you my story."
They sat at the supper-board long, and Morag told
The Story of Morag
IV
I was reared in the Spae-Woman's house with two other girls, Baun and Deelish,
my foster-sisters. The Spae-Woman's house is on the top of a knowe, away from
every place, and few ever came that way.
One morning I went to the well for water. When I looked into it I saw, not my
own image, but the image of a young man. I drew up my pitcher filled with
water, and went back to the Spae-Woman's house. At noontide Baun went to the
well for water. She came back and her pitcher was only haft-fi/led. Before
dark Deelish went to the well. She came back without a pitcher, for it fell
and broke on the flags of the well.
The next day Baun and Deelish each plaited their hair, and they said to her
who was foster-mother for the three of us: "No one will come to marry us in
this far-away place. We will go into the world to seek our fortunes. So," said
they, "bake a cake for each of us before the fall of the night."
The Spae-Woman put three cakes on the griddle and baked them. And when they
were baked she said to Baun and Deelish: "Will you each take the half of the
cake and my blessing, or the whole of the cake without my blessing?" And Baun
and Deelish each said, "The whole of the cake will be little enough for our
journey."
Each then took her cake under her arm and went the path down the knowe. Then
said I to myself, "It would be well to go after my foster-sisters for they
might meet misfortune on the road." So I said to my foster-mother, "Give me
the third cake on the griddle until I go after my foster-sisters."
"Will you have half of the cake and my blessing or the whole of the cake
without my blessing?" said she to me.
"The half of the cake and your blessing, mother," said I.
She cut the cake in two with a black-handled knife and gave me the even half
of it. Then said she:--
May the old sea's
Seven Daughters
They who spin
Life's longest threads,
Protect and guard you!
She put salt in my hand then, and put the Little Red Hen under my arm, and I
went off.
I went on then till I came in sight of Baun and Deelish. Just as I caught up
on them I heard one say to the other, "This ugly, freckled girl will disgrace
us if she comes with us." They tied my hands and feet with a rope they found
on the road and left me in a wood.
I got the rope off my hands and feet and ran and ran until I came in sight of
them again. And when I was coming on them I heard one say to the other, "This
ugly, freckled girl will claim relationship with us wherever we go, and we
will get no good man to marry us." They laid hold of me again and put me in a
lime-kiln, and put beams across it, and put heavy stones on the beams. But my
Little Red Hen showed me how to get out of the lime-kiln. Then I ran and I ran
until I caught up with Baun and Deelish again.
"Let her come with us this evening," said one to the other, "and to-morrow
we'll find some way of getting rid of her."
The night was drawing down now, and we had to look for a house that would give
us shelter. We saw a hut far off the road and we went to the broken door. It
was the house of the Hags of the Long Teeth. We asked for shelter. They showed
us a big bed in the dormer-room, and they told us we could have supper when
the porridge was boiled.
The three Hags sat round the fire with their heads together. Baun and Deelish
were in a corner plaiting their hair, but the Little Red Hen murmured that I
was to listen to what the Hags said.
"We will give them to Crom Duv in the morning" one said. And another said, "I
have put a sleeping-pin in the pillow that will be under each, and they will
not waken."
When I heard what they said I wanted to think of what we could do to make our
escape. I asked Baun to sing to me. She said she would if I washed her feet. I
got a basin of water and washed Baun's feet, and while she sang, and while the
Hags thought we were not minding them, I considered what we might do to
escape. The Hags hung a pot over the fire and the three of them sat around it
once more.
When I had washed my foster-sister's feet I took a besom and began to sweep
the floor of the house. One of the Hags was very pleased to see me doing that.
She said I would make a good servant, and after a while she asked me to sit at
the fire. I sat in the corner of the chimney. They had put meal in the water,
and I began to stir it with a pot-stick. Then the Hag that had asked me to the
fire said, "I will give you a good share of milk with your porridge if you
keep stirring the pot for us." This was just what I wanted to be let do. I sat
in the chimney-corner and kept stirring the porridge while the Hags dozed
before the fire.
First, I got a dish and ladle and took out of the pot some half-cooked
porridge. This I left one side. Then I took down the salt-box that was on the
chimney-shelf and mixed handfuls of salt in the porridge left in the pot.
When it was all cooked I emptied it into another dish and brought the two
dishes to the table. Then I told the Hags that all was ready. They came over
to the table and they gave my foster-sisters and myself three porringers of
goat's milk. We ate out of the first dish and they ate out of the second. "By
my sleep to-night," said one Hag, "this porridge is salty." "Too little salt
is in it for my taste," said my foster-sister Deelish. "It is as salt as the
depths of the sea," said another of the Hags. "My respects to you, ma'am,"
said Baun, "but I do not taste any salt on it at all." My foster-sisters were
so earnest that the Hags thought themselves mistaken, and they ate the whole
dishful of porridge.
The bed was made for us, and the pillows were laid on the bed, and I knew that
the slumber-pin was in each of the pillows. I wanted to put off the time for
going to bed so I began to tell stories. Baun and Deelish said it was still
young in the night, and that I should tell no short ones, but the long story
of Eithne, Balor's daughter. I had just begun that story, when one of the Hags
cried out that she was consumed with thirst.
She ran to the pitcher, and there was no water in it. Then another Hag shouted
out that the thirst was strangling her. The third one said she could not live
another minute without a mouthful of water. She took the pitcher and started
for the well. No sooner was she gone than the second Hag said she couldn't
wait for the first one to come back and she started out after her. Then the
third one thought that the pair would stay too long talking at the well, and
she started after them. Immediately I took the pillows off our bed and put
them on the Hags' bed, taking their pillows instead.
The Hags came back with a half-filled pitcher, and they ordered us to go to
our bed. We went, and they sat for a while drinking porringers of water. "Crom
Duv will be here the first thing in the morning," I heard one of them say.
They put their heads on the pillows and in the turn of a hand they were dead-
fast-sound asleep. I told my foster-sisters then what I had done and why I had
done it. They were very frightened, but seeing the Hags so sound asleep they
composed themselves and slept too.
Before the screech of day Crom Duv came to the house. I went outside and saw
the Giant. I said I was the servant of the Hags, and that they were sleeping
still. He said, "They are my runners and summoners, my brewers, bakers and
candle-makers, and they have no right to be sleeping so late." Then he went
away.
I knew that the three Hags would slumber until we took the pillows from under
their heads. We left them sleeping while we put down a fire and made our
break-fast. Then, when we were ready for our journey, we took the pillows from
under their heads. The three Hags started up then, but we were out on the
door, and had taken the first three steps of our journey.
V
Without hap or mishap we came at last to the domain of the King of Senlabor.
Baun went to sing for the King's foster-daughters, and Deelish went to work at
the little loom in the King's chamber. We were not long at the court of the
King of Senlabor when two youths came there from the court of the King of
Ireland--Dermott and Downal were their names. There was a famous sword-smith
with the King of Senlabor and these two came to learn the trade from him. And
my two foster-sisters fell so deeply in love with the two youths that every
night the pillow on each side of me was wet with their tears.
I went to work in the King's kitchen. Now the King had a dish of such fine
earthware and with such beautiful patterns upon it that he never let it be
carried from the Kitchen to the Feast-Hall, nor from the Feast-Hall to the
Kitchen without going himself behind the servant who carried it. One day the
servant brought it into the Kitchen to be washed and the King came behind the
servant. I took the dish and cleaned it with thrice-boiled water and dried it
with cloths of three different kinds. Then I covered it with sweet-smelling
herbs and left it in a bin where it was sunk in soft bran. The King was
pleased to see the good care I took of his dish, and he said before his
servant that he would do me any favor I would ask. There and then I told him
about my two foster-sisters Baun and Deelish, and how they were in love with
the two youths Dermott and Downal who had come from the court of the King of
Ireland. I asked that when these two youths were being given wives, that the
King should remember my foster-sisters.
The King was greatly vexed at my request. He declared that the two youths had
on their breasts the stars that denoted the sons of Kings and that he intended
they should marry his own two foster-daughters when the maidens were of age to
wed. "It may be," he said, "that these two youths will bring what my Queen
longs for--a berry from the Fairy Rowan Tree that is guarded by the Giant Crom
Duv."
The next day the King's Councillor was feeding the birds and I was sifting the
corn. I asked him what was the history of the Fairy Rowan Tree that the Giant
Crom Duv guarded and why it was that the Queen longed for a berry of it. There
and then he told me this story:--
The Story of the Fairy Rowan Tree
The history of the Fairy Rowan Tree (said the King's Councillor) begins with
Aine', the daughter of Mananaun who is Lord of the Sea. Curoi, the King of the
Munster Fairies loved Aine' and sought her in marriage. But the desire of the
girl's heart was set upon Fergus who was a mortal, and one of the Fianna of
Ireland. Now when Mananaun MacLir heard Curoi's proposals and learned how his
daughter's heart was inclined, he said, "Let the matter be settled in this
way: we will call a hurling-match between the Fairies of Munster and the
Fianna of Ireland with Curoi to captain one side and Fergus to captain the
other, and if the Fairies win, Aine' will marry Curoi and if the Fianna have
the victory she will have my leave to marry this mortal Fergus."
So a hurling-match was called for the first day of Lunassa, and it was to be
played along the strand of the sea. Mananaun himself set the goal-marks, and
Aine' was there to watch the game. It was played from the rising of the sun
until the high tide of noon, and neither side won a goal. Then the players
stopped to eat the refreshment that Mananaun had provided.
This is what Mananaun had brought from his own country, Silver-Cloud Plain: a
branch of bright-red rowan berries. Whoever ate one of these rowan berries his
hunger and his weariness left him in a moment. The berries were to be eaten by
the players, Mananaun said, and not one of them was to be taken into the world
of the mortals or the world of the Fairies.
When they stopped playing at the high tide of noon the mortal Fergus saw Aine'
and saw her for the first time. A spirit that he had never felt before flowed
into him at the sight of Mananaun's daughter. He forgot to eat the berry he
was given and held it in his mouth by the stalk.
He went into the hurling-match again and now he was like a hawk amongst small
birds. Curoi defended the goal and drove the ball back. Fergus drove it to the
goal again; the two champions met and Curoi's hurl, made out of rhinoceros'
horn, did not beat down Fergus's hurl made out of the ash of the wood. The
hosts stood aside and left the game to Fergus and Curoi. Curoi's hurl jerked
the ball upward; then Fergus gave it the double stroke first with the handle
and then with the weighted end of the hurl and drove it, beautifully as a
flying bird, between the goal-marks that Mananaun had set up. The match was
won by the goal that Fergus had gained.
The Fianna then invited the Fairies of Munster to a feast that they were
giving to Fergus and his bride. The Fairies went, and Mananaun and Aine' went
before them all. Fergus marched at the head of his troop with the rowan berry
still hanging from his mouth. And as he went he bit the stalk and the berry
fell to the ground. Fergus never heeded that.
When the feast was over he went to where Mananaun stood with his daughter.
Aine' gave him her hand. "And it is well," said Conan, the Fool of the Fianna,
"that this thick-witted Fergus has at last dropped the berry out of his
mouth." "What berry?" said Curoi, who was standing by. "The rowan berry," said
Conan, "that he carried across two townlands the same as if he were a bird."
When Mananaun heard this he asked about the berry that Fergus had carried. It
was not to be found. Then the Fianna and the Fairies of Munster started back
to look for a trace of it. what they found was a wonderful Rowan Tree. It had
grown out of the berry that Fergus had let fall, but as yet there were no
berries on its branches.
Mananaun, when he saw the tree said, "No mortal may take a berry that grows on
it. Hear my sentence now. Fergus will have to guard this tree until he gets
one who will guard it for him. And he may not see nor keep company with Aine'
his bride until he finds one who will guard it better than he can guard it
himself." Then Mananaun wrapped his daughter in his cloak and strode away in a
mist. The Fairy Host went in one direction and the Fianna in another, and
Fergus was left standing sorrowfully by the Fairy Rowan Tree.
Next day (said Morag), when the King's Councillor was feeding the birds and I
was sifting the corn, he told me the rest of the history of the Fairy Rowan
Tree. Fergus thought and thought how he might leave off watching it and be
with Aine', his bride. At last he bethought him of a Giant who lived on a
rocky island with only a flock of goats for his possessions. This Giant had
begged Finn, the Chief of the Fianna, for a strip of the land of Ireland, even
if it were only the breadth of a bull's hide. Finn had refused him. But now
Fergus sent to Finn and asked him to bring the Giant to be the guardian of the
Fairy Rowan Tree and to give him the land around it. "I mislike letting this
giant Crom Duv have any portion of the land of Ireland," said Finn,
"nevertheless we cannot refuse Fergus."
So Finn sent some of the Fianna to the Giant and they found him living on a
bare rock of an island with only a flock of goats for his possessions. Crom
Duv lay on his back and laughed when he heard what message the men of the
Fianna brought to him. Then he put them and his flock of goats into his big
boat and rowed them over to Ireland.
Crom Duv swore by his flock of goats he would guard the Fairy Rowan Tree until
the red berries ceased to come on its branches. Fergus left his place at the
tree then and went to Aine', and it may be that she and he are still together.
Well did Crom Duv guard the tree, never going far from it and sleeping at
night in its branches. And one year a heifer came and fed with his flock of
goats and another year a bullock came. And these were the beginning of his
great herd of cattle. He has become more and more greedy for cattle, said the
King's Councillor, and now he takes them away to far pastures. But still the
Fairy Rowan Tree is well guarded. The Bull that is called the Bull of the
Mound is on guard near by, and twenty-four fierce yellow cats watch the tree
night and day.
The Queen of Senlabor and many another woman besides desires a berry from the
Fairy Rowan Tree that stands in Crom Duv's courtyard. For the woman who is old
and who eats a berry from that tree becomes young again, and the maid who is
young and who eats a berry gets all the beauty that should be hers of right.
And now, my maid, said the King's Councillor to me, I have told you the
history of the Fairy Rowan Tree.
When I heard all this (said Morag), I made up my mind to get a berry for the
Queen and maybe another berry besides from the Fairy Rowan Tree in Crom Duv's
courtyard. When the King came into the kitchen again, I asked him would he
permit my foster-sisters to marry Downal and Dermott if I brought to his Queen
a berry from the Fairy Rowan Tree. He said he would give permission heartily.
That night when I felt the tears of Baun and Deelish I told them I was going
to search for such a dowry for them that when they had it the King would let
them marry the youths they had set their hearts on. They did not believe I
could do anything to help them, but they gave me leave to go.
The next day I told the Queen I was going to seek for a berry from the Fairy
Rowan Tree. She told me that if I could bring back one berry to her she would
give me all the things she possessed. I said good-by to my foster-sisters and
with the Little Red Hen under my arm I went towards the house of the Hags of
the Long Teeth. I built a shelter and waited till Crom Duv came that way. One
early morning he came by. I stood before him and I told him that I wanted to
take service in his house.
Crom Duv had never had a servant in his house. But I told him that he should
have a byre-maid and that I was well fitted to look after his cattle. He told
me to follow him. I saw the Bull of the Mound and I was made wonder how I
could get away with the berry from the Fairy Rowan Tree. Then I saw the
twenty-four fierce yellow cats and I was made wonder how I could get the berry
from the tree. And after that I found out about the Moat of Poisoned Water
that is behind the high wall at the back of Crom Duv's house. And so now (said
Morag), you know why I have come here and how hard the task is I have taken on
myself.
VI
Now that he had heard the history of the Fairy Rowan Tree, Flann often looked
at the clusters of scarlet berries that were high up on its branches. The Tree
could be climbed, Flann knew. But on the top of the tree and along its
branches were the fierce yellow cats--the cats that the Hags of the Long Teeth
had reared for Crom Duv, thinking that he would some time give each of them
the berry that would make them young again. And at the butt of the tree there
were more cats. And all about the courtyard the Hags' fierce cats paraded
themselves.
The walls round the Giant's Keep were being built higher by Crom Duv, helped
by his servant Flann. The Giant's herd was now increased by many calves, and
Morag the byre-maid had much to do to keep all the cows milked. And day and
night Morag and Flann heard the bellowing of the Bull of the Mound.
Now one day while Crom Duv was away with his herd, Flann and Morag were in the
courtyard. They saw the Little Red Hen rouse herself up, shake her wings and
turn a bright eye on them. "What dost thou say, my Little Red Hen?" said
Morag.
"The Pooka," murmured the Little Red Hen. "The Pooka rides a fierce horse, but
the Pooka himself is a timid little fellow." Then the Little Red Hen drooped
her wings again, and went on picking in the courtyard.
"The Pooka rides a fierce horse," said Morag, "if the Pooka rides a fierce
horse he might carry us past the Bull of the Mound."
"And if the Pooka himself is a timid little fellow we might take the fierce
horse from him," said Flann.
"But this does not tell us how to get the berries off the Fairy Rowan Tree,"
said Morag.
"No," said Flann, "it does not tell us how to get the berries off the tree the
cats guard."
The next day Morag gave grains to the Little Red Hen and begged for words.
After a while the Little Red Hen murmured, "There are things I know, and
things I don't know, but I do know what grows near the ground, and if you pull
a certain herb, and put it round the necks of the cats they will not be able
to see in the light nor in the dark. And to-morrow is the day of Sowain," said
the Little Red Hen. She said no more words. She had become sleepy and now she
flew down and roosted under the table. There she went on murmuring to herself-
-as all hens murmur--where the Children of Dana hid their treasures--they
know, for it was the Children of Dana who brought the hens to Ireland.
"To-morrow," said Morag to Flann, "follow the Little Red Hen, and if she makes
any sign when she touches an herb that grows near the ground, pluck that herb
and bring it to me."
That night Morag and Flann talked about the Pooka and his fierce horse. On
Sowain night--the night before the real short days begin--the Pooka rides
through the countryside touching any fruit that remains, so that it may bring
no taste into winter. The blackberries that were good to eat the day before
are no good on November day, because the Pooka touched them the night before.
What else the Pooka does no one really knows. He is a timid fellow as the
Little Red Hen said, and he hopes that the sight of his big black horse and
the sound of its trampling and panting as he rides by will frighten people out
of his way, for he has a great fear of being seen.
The next day the Little Red Hen stayed in the courtyard until Crom Duv left
with his herd. Flann followed her. She went here and there between the house
and the wall at the back, now picking a grain of sand and now an ant or spider
or fly. And as she went about the Little Red Hen murmured a song to herself:--
When sleep would settle on me
Like the wild bird down on the nest,
The wind comes out of the West:
It tears at the door, maybe,
And frightens away my rest--
When sleep would come upon me
Like the wild bird down on the nest.
The cock is aloft with his crest:
The barn-owl comes from her quest
She fixes an eye upon me
And frightens away my rest
When sleep would settle on me
Like the wild bird down on its nest.
Flann watched all the Little Red Hen did. He saw her put her head on one side
and look down for a while at a certain herb that grew near the ground. Flann
plucked that herb and brought it to Morag.
The cattle had come home, but Crom Duv was not with them. Morag milked the
cows and brought all the milk within, leaving no milk for the cats to drink
outside. Six came into the kitchen to get their supper there. One after
another they sprang up on the table, one more proud and overbearing than the
other. Each cat ate without condescending to make a single mew. "Cat of my
heart," said Morag to the first, when he had finished drinking his milk. "Cat
of my heart! How noble you would look with this red around your neck." She
held out a little satchel in which a bit of the herb was sewn. The first cat
gave a look that said, "Well, you may put it on me." Morag put the red satchel
around his neck and he jumped off the table.
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