The High Deeds of Finn MacCool (11 page)

All that day they fought, without either side gaining an advantage over the other, until towards sunset, the greater numbers of the King's war host began to tell. When Finn saw this happening, he filled his breast and his belly and his throat with air, until he felt his feet grow light beneath him and the world turned red, and with all the power that was in him, he raised the Dord Fian in the way in which it was only sounded when the Fianna were in desperate straits.

As the sound of the Dord Fian fell on his hearing, Dearmid's battle fury rose in him, and he rushed forward against the enemy, not even caring to see that his comrades were at his heels. He hurled himself against the enemy centre, where the silken banners of the King flew in the wind, and went through them and under them and over them as a hawk goes through a flock of sparrows or a whale through a shoal of little fish or like a raging wolf among a flock of sheep. So he broke a red pathway right through the heart of the
enemy host, and his comrades raged through after him.

The war host of the King of Tir-fa-Thonn broke apart and crumbled and was put to rout, and the King and his son who fought beside him where both slain. And so at the last red of sunset, the battle ended.

For three days and three nights the Fian warriors feasted with the new King and his people, but at the end of that time Finn wished to return home, for he had left Erin in something of a hurry and Oisĩn maybe scarcely old enough to hold command of the whole Fianna.

‘It is sorry I am to lose you so soon,' said the new King of Tir-fa-Thonn, ‘but if you must go, then you must. Yet first, tell me what rewards you would have of me for your aid in this matter.'

‘As I remember,' Finn said, laughing, ‘you left my service without claiming your wages – though to be sure you did not serve your full year and a day. Let us set the one against the other, and count all debts paid.'

And the rest agreed to this, all save Conan Maol, who was not so easily satisfied. ‘'Tis all very well for you, who came here in a fine ship, to count all debts paid,' said he glaring at Finn. ‘It was not you that felt the sharp bones of that accursed horse under you all the long sea-road from Erin!'

At this, the young King choked with swallowed laughter, and said gravely enough, ‘That is true. Choose now what award you would like, and I will pay it whatever it may be.'

‘The award that I choose is this,' said Conan, very
pleased with himself, ‘that you should set fourteen of your finest warriors upon the brute, and yourself catch hold of the tail, and return to Erin in the same manner and along the same sea-roads by which we came. Then, and only then, I will count the debt paid.'

The Fianna drew breaths of relief, for they had feared that Conan might demand gold or jewels, and so bring shame upon them.

‘It is a fair award,' said the King, ‘and shall be paid in full. When you reach your own land, wait for us on the hill above Cliach where first you saw the Giolla Dacker and his horse. And we will come to you there.'

So Finn and his men went back through the cave and the woods, and down the cliff by the rope still hanging there, to the waiting war-boat, and set out for home. And when they reached the shores of Erin, they went to the hill where their hunting camp still stood, and waited.

They had not long to wait before they saw the Giolla Dacker, looking more hideous and surly than ever as he trudged towards them, dragging after him his bony mare with the fourteen luckless chieftains on her back, for he had let go of her tail and gone ahead with the halter, the moment they touched the shores of Erin.

The Fianna tried to keep their faces straight for courtesy's sake, but such a gale of laughter caught them that they were still laughing when the mare checked at the place from which she had set out, and the chieftains began stiffly to dismount.

Finn strode gladly forward to meet them, but the Giolla Dacker who was King of Tir-fa-Thonn, looked past him and pointed, ‘Finn Mac Cool! Quick and look to your men!' Finn glanced round quickly, but there
was nothing amiss with the men. He turned back again, puzzled, to the Giolla Dacker, but the Giolla Dacker was gone, and so was the great black mare, and so were the fourteen nobels of the Land under the Sea. All that was left was the grass springing up again, where the black mare's hooves had crushed it down.

And neither Finn nor Dearmid nor any other of the one-and-thirty ever saw them again.

This is the story of how the Fianna came by their cavalry horses, for until then, though they had used ponies and little sturdy horses for hunting, they had not used horses in war.

At the time of the sotry Finn had serving with him in the Leinster Fianna a young champion called Arthur, a lesser son of the King of Britain, who had come overseas to Erin in search of adventure, bringing a company of twenty-eight warriors at his back.

All the tests of the Fianna he had passed with honour; he was brave in battle and skilled on the hunting trail. But if there was a thing he wanted, he took it if he could. And if it belonged to another man, he was not one to trouble much, but took it all the same – especially if there was a dash of danger to make the taking seem more worth while.

He was a good judge of a horse, and more than that he was a good judge of a hound, and he had not been long with the Fianna before he knew that in all Britain and Erin put together there were no two hounds to equal Finn's two hunting favourites, Bran and Skolawn, for speed or strength, beauty or valour or wisdom. And it was not three heartbeats of time after he knew that, that he determined to steal them at the first chance that came his way.

He waited for a while and a while, and then there
were two things happened together: a British trading ship put in to Dublin Bay and Finn Mac Cool decided to hunt on Ben Eader close by.

The hunting camp was made, and the Fianna gathered with their hounds. Now there was no hound pack in the world of men such as the pack that Finn hunted, for between them the Fian chiefs could muster three hundred full-grown hounds, and there were always two hundred puppies coming on to take the place of those that died or grew too old for the chase. The Fianna valued their hunting dogs dearly, and at the end of every day's hunting, when their food was thrown to them, the pack was counted to make sure that no hound had gone astray.

Arthur knew this, but he knew also – having sent one of his warriors with gold to make the thing sure – that the British ship would wait for him and sail the instant that the tide served, after his coming, If he could steal Bran and Skolawn early in the day, and get them down to the ship in time to sail with the noon tide, he could be well on his homeward way with many miles of open sea between himself and Finn before the count was taken in the evening.

So at dawn, when the hunting started, when the deer were stirring in the woods and the hounds stood quivering in leash, he slipped away from the rest, he and his eight-and-twenty followers, and turned hunters themselves. Only beside their spears, each carried three throw-stones joined to each other in a curious way with different length of rawhide rope, supple and strong. With these, when the chase had had time to become well scattered, they went hunting Bran and Skolawn.

The two great hound brothers liked always to hunt together, apart from the rest of the pack, and so Arthur knew that if he and his followers could find them at all, there would be a good chance of taking them without the rest of the hunt, hound or man, knowing a thing of what happened, and sure enough, that was how it came about.

Presently, with the trail-music of the pack distant in his ears, Arthur saw a magnificent twelve-point stag in full flight, and knew that with such a splendour of a quarry, and the rest of the pack half across Mide and Leinster by the sound of it, Bran and Skolawn could not be far off; so he signalled with the cry of a late-waking owl three times repeated, to any of his twenty-eight who might be nearest, and himself crouched down behind a low-growing briar tangle. Hardly had he done so than the two great hounds broke from cover, streaking low through the fern and baying as they ran.

There was no moment to wait, no moment, as it looked, to be taking aim, but Arthur was used to capturing game alive with his strange weapon in his own land. He swung the seeming tangle of stones and rawhide thongs once round his head and let go, and the thing flew out straight to its mark, and wrapped itself about Bran, the throw-stones carrying the hide ropes across and across, so that the great hound fell in mid gallop, hopelessly meshed in the thongs about his legs. And in the same instant Skolawn sprawled headlong and lay kicking, brought down by another of the hidden hunters. Their baying changed to snarls of fury as they fought with the hide ropes. Bran was half up again, but men were running in from every side to
come at them before they could injure themselves or break free. Arthur himself braved Bran's terrible snapping jaws to leap in with clenched fist and deal him a blow behind the ears that should quieten him for a while. Another of the Britons did the same for Skolawn with the pommel of his dagger. And they stood triumphant with the two hounds lying moveless at their feet.

‘So far it is good,' Arthur said, ‘but I am thinking that the sooner we are away from this place, and from Erin, the better it will be for us, my heroes!'

They untangled the hounds and, because they were too big for any man to carry alone, lashed forepaws together and hindpaws together, and slipped spear shafts between the bound paws of each hound, so that
they could lift and carry them, two men to a spear, as men carry home their hunting kill.

Then they set off towards the place where the ship waited.

They went on board, and with Bran and Skolawn already waking back to fury, sailed with the tide, the wind filling their sail and speeding them towards Britain.

At the day's end, when the count was taken, Bran and Skolawn were missing, and though the Fianna went through the pack again and again, and searched all the country round about, not so much as a grey or a brindled hair of them could be found.

Then Finn set his Thumb of Knowledge between his teeth, and the truth came to him, and with the truth came bitter anger. He stood up and looked about him at his hunting companions, and said harsh in his throat, ‘Arthur, son of the King of Britain has stolen away my hounds, and they are now on the sea, with a fair wind driving them towards the coast of Britain. Now I call for nine champions to follow and bring them back to me, and Arthur with them – or his head if they cannot be bringing the whole of him!'

Then Goll Mac Morna stood up and said, ‘Here am I that will go, for one.'

And Dearmid O'Dyna said, ‘A sorry thing it would be to hunt these hills and never again to hear the trail-music of Bran and Skolawn. Here am I that will go, for another.'

And Oisĩn slipped his harp bag from his shoulder (for he had brought it out before the count was taken, to sing for the Fianna after supper) and said to Osca
his twelve summers old son, who had come hunting with them for the fist time, ‘Keep this for me until I come back.'

But Osca drew together his brows that were as black as Finn's and Oisĩn's were fair, and said, ‘Let you find someone else to keep your harp for you. Many and many a night I have slept between Bran and Skolawn for warmth and company. I come with you to find them and bring them back.'

‘You are too young and small,' said Oisĩn. ‘What could you do?'

Osca grinned, and said, ‘I will bite Arthur's ankles and hold him till the rest of you come up.'

And the others laughed, and took his side, and so Oisĩn yielded. And Osca took his place among the men for his first foray.

Coil Croda the Hundred-Slayer had joined the little band while they argued, and with him Ferdoman, son of Bodh Derg, and the two brothers Raigne Wide-Eye and Caince the Crimson-Red. And lastly came Cailte, son of Crunnchu; and the nine were complete.

A ship was made ready, and they lime-whitened their shields for battle and put their war-caps on their heads, and went on board. The rowers swung to the oars and the wind filled the square sail and sped them towards Britain. And so they came upon the coast of Argyll. Then they beached the ship safe above the tide-line and went in search of Arthur, the son of the King.

They searched northward and they searched southward, and at last one evening, close to the mountain of Lodan Mac Lir, they saw smoke rising from the hillside and caught on the wind the smell of
roasting meat. ‘It is only a hunting camp such as we have made often enough ourselves,' said Oisĩn.

But Goll Mac Morna said, ‘And where would we more likely find Bran and Skolawn than in a hunting camp? Unless it was on the trail? So soon as it is dark, we will be taking a closer look.'

So when the blue dusk rose like water soaking up through the hazel woods, they crept closer, as close as they dared for fear the hunting dogs would get their scent. And crouching among the hillside scrub, they peered between the branch-woven bothies and saw the hunters gathered about the fire, and saw that they were Arthur and his band. And chained to a birch tree in the midst of the camp, all men keeping well clear of them, were Bran and Skolawn.