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He ate no more than three mouthfuls. Then he stamped on the ground with his
hooves, lifted his head high and neighed three times. With that he plunged
into the water of the Lake and swam and swam as if he had the strength of a
dragon. He swam while there was light on the water and he swam while there was
night on the water, and when the sun of the next day was a hand's breadth
above the lake he came to the Black Island.

All on that Island was black and burnt, and there were black ashes up to the
horse's knees. And no sooner had the Slight Red Steed put his hooves on the
Island than he galloped straight to the middle of it. He galloped through an
opening in the black rock and went through a hundred passages, each going
lower than the other, and at last he came into the wide space of a hall.

The hall was lighted. When the King's Son looked to see where the light came
from he saw a sword hanging from the roof. And the brightness of the Sword was
such that the hall was well lighted. The King of Ireland's Son galloped the
Slight Red Steed forward and made it rear up. His hand grasped the hilt of the
Sword. As he pulled it down the Sword screeched in his hand.

He flashed it about and saw what other things were in the Cave. He saw one
woman, and two women and three women. He came to them and he saw they were
sleeping. And as he flashed the Sword about he saw other women sleeping too.
There were twelve women in the Cave where the Sword of Light had been hanging
and the women were sleeping.

And in the hands of each of the sleeping women was a great gemmed cup. The
spirit of the King's Son had grown haughty since he felt the Sword in his
hands. "You have the sword, why should you not have the cup?" something within
him said. He took a cup from the hands of one of the sleeping women and drank
the bubbling water that it held. His spirit grew more haughty with that
draught. From the hands of each of the twelve sleeping women he took the cup
and he drank the draught of bubbling water that it held. And when he had drunk
the twelve draughts of bubbling water he felt that with the Sword of Light in
his hands he could cut his way through the earth.

He mounted the Slight Red Steed and rode it through the Cave and swam it
across the Lake with No Name. He held the Sword of Light across his saddle.
The Steed went as the current drew him, for it was long since he had eaten the
leaves of the Fountain Tree, and the spirit that had made him vigorous coming
was feeble now. The current brought them to the shore below where the Fountain
Tree grew.

And there on the shore he saw a bunch of little men, little women and littler
children, all with smoke-colored skins, all with but one eye in their heads,
all crying and screaming at each other like sea-birds, and all sitting round a
fire of dried water weeds, cooking and eating eels and crab-apples.

The King of Ireland's Son put his hands on the bridle-rein and drew the Slight
Red Steed out of the water. The women with one right eye and the men with one
left eye, and the children in their bare smoky skins screamed at him, "What do
you want, what do you want, man with the horse?"

"Feed and water my steed for me," said the King of Ireland's Son.

"We are the Swallow People, and no one commands us to do things," said an old
fellow with a beard like knots of ropes.

"Feed my steed with red wheat and water it with pure spring water," said the
King's Son fiercely. "I am the King of Ireland's Son and the Sword of Light is
in my hands, and what I command must be done."

"We are the Swallow People and we are accounted a harmless people," said the
old fellow.

"Why are ye harmless?" said the King's Son, and he flourished the sword at
them.

"Come into our cave, King's Son," said the old fellow, "we will give you
refreshment there, and the children will attend to your steed."

He went into the cave with certain of the Swallow People. They were all
unmannerly. They kept screaming and crying to each other; they pulled at the
clothes of the King's Son and pinched him. One of them bit his hands. When
they came into the cave they all sat down on black stones. One pulled in a
black ass loaded with nets. They took the nets off its back, and before the
King's Son knew that anything was about to happen they threw the nets around
him. The meshes of the nets were sticky. He felt himself caught. He ran at the
Swallow People and fell over a stone. Then they drew more nets around his
legs.

The old fellow whom he had commanded took up the Sword of Light. Then the
Swallow People pulled up the ass that had carried the nets and rubbed its hard
hoof on the Sword. The King's Son did not know what happened to it. Then he
heard them cry, "The brightness is gone off the thing now." They left the
Sword on a black rock, and now no light came from it. Then all the Swallow
People scrambled out of the cave.

They came back eating eels and crab-apples out of their hands. They paid no
attention to the King of Ireland's Son, but climbed into a cave above where he
was lying.

He broke the nets that were round him. He found the Sword on the black stones,
with the brightness all gone from it because of the rubbing with the ass's
hoof. He climbed up the wall of the other cave to punish the Swallow People.
They saw him before he could see them in the darkness, and they all went into
holes and hid themselves as if they were rats and mice.

With the blackened sword in his hands the King of Ireland's Son went out of
the Cave, and the horse he had left behind, the Slight Red Steed, was not to
be found.

III

Without a steed and with a blackened sword the King of Ireland's Son came to
where the Gobaun Saor had set up his forge and planted his anvil. No water nor
sand would clean the Sword, but he left it down before the Gobaun Saor, hoping
that he would show him a way to dean it. "The Sword must be bright that will
kill the King of the Land of Mist and cut the tress that will awaken the
Enchanter's daughter," said the Gobaun Saor. "You have let the Sword be
blackened. Carry the blackened Sword with you now."

"Brighten it for me and I will serve you," said the King of Ireland's Son.

"It is not easy for me to brighten the Sword now," said the Gobaun Saor. "But
find me the Unique Tale and what went before its beginning and what comes
after its end, and I shall brighten the sword for you and show you the way to
the Land of Mist. Go now, and search for the Unique Tale."

He went, and he had many far journeys, I can tell you, and he found no person
who had any knowledge of the Unique Tale or who knew any way of coming to the
Land of Mist. One twilight in a wood he saw a great bird flying towards him.
It lighted on an old tree, and the King of Ireland's Son saw it was Laheen the
Eagle.

"Are you still a friend to me, Eagle?" said the King's Son.

"I am still a friend to you, King's Son," said Laheen.

"Then tell me where I should go to get knowledge of the Unique Tale," said the
King of Ireland's Son.

"The Unique Tale--I never heard of it at all," said Laheen the Eagle, changing
from one leg to the other. "I am old," she said, shaking her wings, "and I
never heard of the Unique Tale."

The King's Son looked and saw that Laheen was really old. Her neck was bare of
feathers and her wings were gray. " Oh, if you are so old," said the King's
Son, " and have gone to so many places, and do not know of the Unique Tale, to
whom can I go to get knowledge of it?"

"Listen," said Laheen the Eagle," there are five of us that are called the
Five Ancient Ones of Ireland, and it is not known which one of the five is the
oldest. There is myself, Laheen the Eagle; there is Blackfoot the Elk of Ben
Gulban, there is the Crow of Achill, the Salmon of Assaroe and the Old Woman
of Beare. We do not know ourselves which of us is the oldest, but we know that
we five are the most ancient of living things. I have never heard of the
Unique Tale," said Laheen, "but maybe one of the other Ancients has heard of
it."

"I will go to them," said the King's Son. "Tell me how I will find the Crow of
Achill, the Elk of Ben Gulban, the Salmon of Assaroe and the Old Woman of
Beare--tell me how to go to them, Laheen the Eagle."

"You need not go to the Salmon of Assaroe," said the Eagle, "for the Salmon
would not have heard any tale. I will get you means of finding the other
three. Follow the stream now until you come to the river. Wait at the ford and
I will fly to you there." Laheen the Eagle then shook her wings and flew
slowly away. The King of Ireland's Son followed the stream until he came to
the river--the River of the Ox it was.

IV

And having come to the River of the Ox he sought the ford and waited there for
Laheen the Eagle. When it was high noon he saw the shadow of the Eagle in the
water of the ford. He looked up. Laheen let something fall into the shallows.
It was a wheel. Then Laheen lighted on the rocks of a waterfall above the ford
and spoke to the King of Ireland's Son.

"Son of King Connal," she said, "roll this wheel before you and follow it
where it goes. It will bring you first where Blackfoot the Elk abides. Ask the
Elk has he knowledge of the Unique Tale. If he has no knowledge of it start
the wheel rolling again. It will bring you then where the Crow of Achill
abides. If the Crow cannot tell you anything of the Unique Tale, let the wheel
bring you to where the Old Woman of Beare lives. If she cannot tell you of the
Unique Tale, I cannot give you any further help."

Laheen the Eagle then spread out her wings and rising above the mist of the
waterfall flew away.

The King of Ireland's Son took the wheel out of the shallow water and set it
rolling before him. It went on without his touching it again. Then he was
going and ever going with the clear day going before him and the dark night
coming behind him, going through scrubby fields and shaggy bog-lands, going up
steep mountain sides and along bare mountain ridges, until at last he came to
a high mound on a lonesome mountain. And as high as the mound and as lonesome
as the mountain was the Elk that was standing there with wide, wide horns. The
wheel ceased rolling.

"I am from Laheen the Eagle," said the King of Ireland's Son.

The Elk moved his wide-horned head and looked down at him. "And why have you
come to me, son?" said the Elk.

"I came to ask if you had knowledge of the Unique Tale," said the King of
Ireland's Son.

"I have no knowledge of the Unique Tale," said the Elk in a deep voice.

"And are you not Blackfoot, the Elk of Ben Gulban, one of the five of the
oldest creatures in the world?" said the King of Ireland's Son.

"I am the Elk of Ben Gulban," said Blackfoot, "and it may be that there is no
creature in the world more ancient than I am. The Fianna hunted me with their
hounds before the Sons of Mile' came to the Island of Woods. If it was a Tale
of Finn or Caelta or Goll, of Oscar or Oisin or Conan, I could tell it to you.
But I know nothing of the Unique Tale."

Then Blackfoot the Elk of Ben Gulban turned his wide-horned head away and
looked at the full old moon that was coming up in the sky. And the King of
Ireland's Son took up the wheel and went to look for a shelter. He found a
sheep-cote on the side of the mountain and lay down and slept between sheep.

V

When the sun rose he lifted up the wheel and set it going before him. He was
going and ever going down long hillsides and across spreading plains till he
came to where old trees and tree-stumps were standing hardly close enough
together to keep each other company. The wheel went through this ancient wood
and stopped before a fallen oak-tree. And sitting on a branch of that oak,
with a gray head bent and featherless wings gathered up to her neck was a
crow.

"I come from Laheen the Eagle," said the King of Ireland's Son.

"What did you say?" said the Crow, opening one eye.

"I come from Laheen the Eagle," said the King of Ireland's Son again.

"Oh, from Laheen," said the Crow and dosed her eye again.

"And I came to ask for knowledge of the Unique Tale," said the King of
Ireland's Son.

"Laheen," said the Crow, "I remember Laheen the Eagle." Keeping her eyes shut,
she laughed and laughed until she was utterly hoarse. "I remember Laheen the
Eagle," she said again. "Laheen never found out what I did to her once. I
stole the Crystal Egg out of her nest. Well, and how is Laheen the Eagle?" she
said sharply, opening one eye.

"Laheen is well," said the King of Ireland's Son. "She sent me to ask if you
had knowledge of the Unique Tale."

"I am older than Laheen," said the Crow. "I remember Paralon's People. The
Salmon of Assaroe always said he was before Paralon's People. But never mind!
Laheen can't say that. If I could only get the feathers to stay on my wings
I'd pay Laheen a visit some day. How are Laheen and her bird-flocks?"

"0 Crow of Achill," said the King of Ireland's Son, "I was sent to ask if you
had knowledge of the Unique Tale."

"The Unique Tale! No, I never heard of it," said the Crow. She gathered her
wings up to her neck again and bent her gray head.

"Think, O Crow of Achill," said the King of Ireland's Son. "I will bring you
the warmest wool for your nest."

"I never heard of the Unique Tale," said the Crow. "Tell Laheen I was asking
for her." Nothing would rouse the Crow of Achill again. The King of Ireland's
Son set the wheel rolling and followed it. Then he was going and ever going
with the clear day before him and the dark night coming behind him. He came to
a wide field where there were field-fares or ground larks in companies. He
crossed it. He came to a plain of tall daisies where there were thousands of
butterflies. He crossed it. He came to a field of buttercups where blue
pigeons were feeding. He crossed it. He came to a field of flax in blue
blossom. He crossed it and came to a smoke-blackened stone house deep sunk in
the ground. The wheel stopped rolling before it and he went into the house.

An old woman was seated on the ground before the fire basting a goose. A
rabbit-skin cap was on her hairless head and there were no eye-brows on her
face. Three strange birds were eating out of the pot--a cuckoo, a corncrake
and a swallow. "Come to the fire, gilly," said the old woman when she looked
round.

"I am not a gilly, but the King of Ireland's Son," said he.

"Well, let that be. What do you want of me?"

"Are you the Old Woman of Beare?"

"I have been called the Old Woman of Beare since your fore-great-grandfather's
time."

"How old are you, old mother?"

"I do not know. But do you see the three birds that are picking out of my pot?
For two score years the swallow was coming to my house and building outside.
Then he came and built inside. Then for three score years he was coming into
my house to build here. Now he never goes across the sea at all. and do you
see the corncrake? For five score years she was coming to the meadow outside.
Then she began to run into the house to see what was happening here. For two
score years she was running in and out. Then she stayed here altogether. Now
she never goes across the sea at all. And do you see the cuckoo there? For
seven score years she used to come to a tree that was outside and sing over
her notes. Then when the tree was gone, she used to light on the roof of my
house. Then she used to come in to see herself in a looking glass. I do not
know how many score years the cuckoo was going and coming, but I know it is
many score years since she went across the sea."

"I went from Laheen the Eagle to Blackfoot the Elk, and from the Elk of Ben
Gulban to the Crow of Achill, and from the Crow of Achill, I come to you to
ask if you have knowledge of the Unique Tale."

"The Unique Tale, indeed," said the 0ld Woman of Beare. "One came to me only
last night to tell me the Unique Tale. He is the young man who is counting the
horns."

"What young man is he and what horns is he counting?"

"He is no King's Son, but a gilly--Gilly of the Goat-skin he is called. He is
counting the horns that are in two pits outside. When the horns are counted I
will know the number of my half-years."

"How is that, old mother?"

"My father used to kill an ox every year on my birthday, and after my father's
death, my servants, one after the other, used to kill an ox for me. The horns
of the oxen were put into two pits, one on the right-hand side of the house
and one on the left-hand side. If one knew the number of the horns one would
know the number of, my half-years, for every pair of horns goes to make a year
of my life. Gilly of the Goatskin is counting the horns for me now, and when
he finishes counting them I will let him tell the Unique Tale."

"But you must let me listen to the tale too, Old Woman of Beare."

"If you count the horns in one pit I will let you listen to the tale."

"Then I will count the horns in one pit."

"Go outside then and count them."

The King of Ireland's Son went outside. He found on the right-hand side of the
house a deep quarry-pit. Round the edge of it were horns of all kinds, black
horns and white horns, straight horns and crooked horns. And below in the pit
he saw a young man digging for horns that were sunk in the ground. He had on a
jacket made of the skin of a goat.

"Who are you?" said the young man in the quarry-pit. "I am the King of
Ireland's Son. And who may you be?"

"Who I am I don't know," said the young man in the goatskin, "but they call me
Gilly of the Goatskin. What have you come here for?"

"To get knowledge of the Unique Tale."

"And it was to tell the same Unique Tale that I came here myself. Why do you
want to know the Unique Tale?"

"That would make a long story. Why do you want to tell it?"

"That would make a longer story. There is a quarry-pit at the left-hand side
of the house filled with horns and it must be your task to count them."

"I will count them," said the King of Ireland's Son. "But you will be finished
before me. Do not tell the Old Woman of Beare the Tale until we both sit down
together."

"If that suits you it will suit me," said Gilly of the Goatskin, and he began
to dig again.

The King of Ireland's Son went to the left-hand side of the house. He found
the quarry-pit and went into it to count the horns that were there--black
horns and white horns, straight horns and crooked horns. And now, while the
King of Ireland's Son is in the quarry-pit, I will tell you the adventures of
Gilly--the Lad or the Servant--of the Goatskin, which adventures are written
in "The Craneskin Book."

VI

He never stirred out of the cradle till he was past twelve years of age, but
lay there night and day, long days and short days; the only garment he ever
put on was a goatskin; a hunter had once put it down on the floor beside his
cradle and he reached out with his two hands, drew it in and put the goatskin
on him. He got his name and his coat at the same time, for he was called ever
afterwards "Gilly of the Goatskin."

But although he never stirred out of the cradle, Gilly of the Goatskin had
ways of diverting himself. He used to shoot arrows with a bow out of the door
of the house and hit a mark on a tree that was opposite him. _And where did he
get the bow and arrows?_ The bow fell down from the roof of the house and into
the cradle. And as for arrows he used to make them out of the wands that the
Hags brought in to make baskets with. But the Hags never saw him using the bow
and sending off the arrows. All day they would be going along the streams
gathering the willow wands for the baskets they made.

He knew nobody except the three Hags of the Long Teeth, and he had never heard
the name of mother or father. Often, when she was peeling the wands with a
black-handled knife, the Hag of the House used to tell Gilly of the Goatskin
the troubles that were in store for him--danger from the sword and the spear
and the knife, from water and fire, from the beasts of the earth and the birds
of the air. She delighted to tell him about the evils that would befall him.
And she used to laugh when she told him he was a hump-back and that people
would throw stones at him.

One day when the Hags were away gathering willow wands, Gilly turned the
cradle over and lay under it. He wanted to see what they would do when they
did not see him sitting up in the cradle. They came in. Gilly looked through a
crack in the cradle and saw the Hags--they were old and crooked and had long
teeth that came down below their chins.

"He's gone, he's gone, he's gone!" screamed the Hag of the House, when she did
not see Gilly in the cradle.

"He's gone," said one of the long-toothed Hags. "I told you he would go away.
Why didn't you cut out his heart yesterday, or the day before?"

"Mind what I tell you," said the other Hag of the Long Teeth. "Mind what I
tell you. His father's son will grow into a powerful champion."

"Not he," said the Hag of the House, with great anger. "He'll never become a
Champion. He's only a little hump-backed fellow with no weapons and with no
garment but a goatskin."

"It would be better to kill him when he comes back," said the first of the
Hags with the Long Teeth.

"And if he doesn't come back, tell the Giant Crom Duv," said the second.

Gilly of the Goatskin crept from under the cradle, put his bow resting on the
bottom that was now turned uppermost, took up some of the rods that were on
the floor and then shouted at the Hags. "Oh, if that's a hazel rod he has at
his bow he will kill us all," they screamed out together.

He drew back the string, fired the willow rod and struck the middle Hag full
on the breast. The three Hags fell down on the ground. The pot that was always
hanging over the fire turned itself upside down and the house was filled with
smoke. Gilly of the Goatskin, the bow in his hand, sprang across the cradle,
over the threshold of the door, and out into the width and the height, the
length and the breadth, the gloom and the gleam of the world.

VII

He was out, as I have said, in the width and the height, the length and the
breadth, the gloom and the gleam of the world. He fired arrows into the air.
He leaped over ditches, he rolled down hillsides, he raced over level places
until he came to what surprised him more than all the things in the world--a
river. He had never seen such water before and he wondered to see it moving
with swiftness. "Where is it going?" said Gilly of the Goatskin. "Does it go
on like that in the night as well as in the day?" He ran by its side and
shouted to the river. He saw a wide-winged bird flying across it. It was the
bird that we call the crane or the heron. And as Gilly watched the great
winged thing he saw that it held a little animal in its claws. Gilly fired an
arrow and the crane dropped towards the ground. The little animal that was in
its claws fell down. The crane rose up again and flew back across the river.

The little animal that had been in the claws of the crane came to Gilly of the
Goatskin. It was smaller than the one-eyed cat that used to sit on the hearth
of the Hag of the House. It kept its head up and was very bold-looking. "Good
morning, Lad in the Goatskin," it said to Gilly, "you saved my life and I'm
very thankful to you." "What are you?" said Gilly of the Goat-skin. "I'm the
Weasel. I'm the boldest and bravest creature in this country. I'm the lion of
these parts, I am. And," said the Weasel, "I never served anyone before, but
I'll be your servant for a quarter of a year. Tell me what way you're going
and I'll go with you." "I'm going the way he's going," said Gilly, nodding
towards the river, "and I'll keep beside him till he wants to turn back." "Oh,
then you'll have to go a long way," said the Weasel, "but I'll go with you no
matter bow far you go." The Weasel walked by Gilly's side very bravely and
very independently.

"Oh, look," said Gilly to the Weasel, "what is that that's in the water?"

The Weasel looked and saw a crystal egg in the shallows.

"It's an egg," said the Weasel, "I often eat one myself. I'll bring it up from
the bottom to you. I'm good at carrying eggs."

The Weasel went into the water and put his mouth to the egg and tried to lift
it. He could not move it. He tried to lift it with his paws as well as with
his mouth; but this did not do either. He came up the bank then, and said to
Gilly, "You'll think I'm a poor sort of a servant because I can't take an egg
out of the water. But if I can't win one way I'll win another way." He went
into the reeds by the river and he said, "Hear me, frogs! There's a great army
coming to take you out of the reeds and eat you red and raw." Then Gilly saw
the queer frogs lifting up their heads, "Oh, what will we do, what will we
do?" they cried to the Weasel. "There's only one thing to be done," said the
Weasel. "You gather up all the pebbles in the bed of the fiver and we'll make
a big wail on the bank to defend you." The frogs dived into the water at once
and dragged up pebbles. Gilly and the Weasel piled them on the bank. Then
three frogs carried up the Crystal Egg. The Weasel took it from them when they
left it on the bank. Then he climbed a tree and cried out to the frogs, "The
army is frightened and is running away." "Oh, thank you, thank you," said the
frogs, "we'll never forget your goodness to us." Then they sat down in the
marsh and told each other what a narrow escape they all had.

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