The Legend of the Corrib King (6 page)

‘You want to be careful,' Róisín told her. ‘They're poisonous.'

‘What are they?' asked Cowlick.

‘Foxgloves,' said Róisín.

‘That's right,' said Jamesie. ‘The bad fairies are supposed to have given them to the foxes to put on their paws so they wouldn't be heard creeping up on things. Look, you can put them on your fingers.' He reached for some and slipped them over his fingernails. ‘That's why we call them pooka fingers. Pakie says it means fairy fingers or witches' fingers.'

‘
Fairies and witches
,' exclaimed Rachel suddenly.

‘
Foxes in ditches
,' added Róisín.

‘That's it!' said Tapser, getting to his feet and going over to examine the plant.

The others joined him.

‘And you say it's poisonous, Róisín?' he asked.

Róisín nodded. ‘And maybe that's something to do with the next line,
Deadly the fingers
…'

They studied the plant and wondered what Pakie meant by what he had said.

‘Read it again for us, Jamesie,' said Cowlick.

Jamesie took out his piece of paper and read it aloud for the umpteenth time:

‘Fairies and witches, foxes in ditches,
Deadly the fingers that point to life's riches.
Beneath tall spires of gold the Story is told,
Nymphs dance in the moonlight and secrets unfold …'

Tapser sat down again and leaned his chin on his hand. ‘What is Pakie trying to tell us?'

‘And what's a nymph anyhow?' asked Cowlick.

‘We sometimes fish with artificial flies which are called nymphs,' said Jamesie. ‘So unless he's talking about flies dancing on the water.'

‘Or he could mean the poachers' children dancing in the moonlight, couldn't he?' said Rachel.

‘Double meaning again,' remarked Tapser.

‘Let's take it bit by bit,' suggested Róisín. ‘The first lines don't seem to be about fish, but about plants. Poisonous plants that point to something. I think we need to find out more about that.'

‘Good idea,' agreed Tapser. ‘But who would tell us? Jamesie, what do you think? Do you know anybody who could tell us about foxgloves and things?'

‘There is one man who could tell us. But I don't know if he's at home. He's probably out fishing.'

‘Anyone else?' asked Róisín.

‘There's a woman who lives along the lake a bit. She knows all about herbs. She could tell us.'

‘What's her name?' asked Rachel.

‘Biddy,' Jamesie replied. ‘Biddy of the Lake.'

As Nuadha picked her way through the byroads of the Corrib countryside, Prince trotted along beside her. The two seemed to have become great friends.

After a while they came to a laneway lined with creamy meadowsweet and purple stalks of wild angelica. At the end of the lane was a clump of trees, and from there they could see a small farm stretching down to the lake. Not far from the water's edge was a thatched cottage. There was a stack of turf at one end of the cottage, a small shed and hen-run at the other. Several geese were sifting through the mud in a nearby field, while down by the lake two rather shaggy-looking horses and three donkeys gazed idly at the water.

‘What's Biddy like?' asked Tapser.

‘Pretty scary,' admitted Jamesie. ‘She lives on her own, except for her hens and her donkeys and horses. Nobody will go near the donkeys and horses you know.'

‘Why not?' asked Cowlick.

Jamesie didn't answer.

‘Come on, Jamesie,' prompted Róisín. ‘Tell us why you're scared to go near her donkeys and horses.'

‘Aye, Jamesie, tell us,' urged Rachel.

They were all smiling now, for they knew well they were about to hear another of Jamesie's fairytales.

‘Well, there are stories about them,' said Jamesie.

‘Stories?' asked Cowlick, trying to be serious.

‘Well, not about them exactly.'

‘What then?' asked Róisín.

‘Well, there's a story Uncle Pakie tells, about this man called Seoirse de Barra. He and his wife had two castles. His gave his name to Castlebar, and hers was at Annaghdown, just down the Corrib from here. Anyway, there was an enchanted lake called Lough Afoor, near her castle.'

‘Jamesie, you're the limit,' giggled Rachel. ‘First it was an enchanted island, now it's an enchanted lake.'

‘You can laugh if you like,' said Jamesie, ‘but it was said that every night water-horses came up out of the lake to graze.'

The others looked at the lake beyond Biddy's house where the horses and donkeys were still gazing out across the water.

‘The trouble was,' Jamesie continued, ‘they came out to graze in Seoirse's cornfields. As you can imagine, they did a lot of damage. Each morning before the sun rose, they were gone, back into the lake, and there was nothing he could do to stop them. He got the men in the area to help him try and cut them off, but it was no use. Then a wise old man who lived in the district, a blind man, told him that if they could catch one of the horses, the others wouldn't come back.'

Jamesie lowered his voice. ‘So one night, after they had their supper, they hid in the corn and waited. Sure enough, when all was quiet the water-horses came up out of the lake. They grazed all night on the corn, but it wasn't until daylight came and they started to make their way back to the lake that Seoirse and his friends made their move. Jumping out of their hiding places, they surrounded one of them, a small filly, and caught her.'

‘What did they do with her?' asked Cowlick.

‘Do with her?' said Jamesie. ‘What do you think they did with her? They took her back to the castle. She was a beautiful little horse, and Seoirse tamed her. However, the old man warned him that if he took her out before he had her a year and a day he would have no luck. But, of course, Seoirse couldn't wait. He had a great longing to take her out hunting and show her off to the rest of the country. So one day he saddled up and took her out for a canter.'

Jamesie paused. ‘Everything went well until he turned her to come home. They were on the top of a hill at the time and she caught a glimpse of the lake in the distance. The enchantment hadn't fully left her, as she hadn't been out of the water a year and a day, and a great urge came upon her to get back into it. She bolted for the water and even though she was small, he couldn't control her.'

‘So she returned to the lake and took him with her,' suggested Rachel.

Jamesie shook his head. ‘She returned to the lake all right, but before she reached it she threw him and he was killed.'

‘You're not trying to tell us Biddy's horses are en-chanted?' asked Róisín.

‘I'm not saying that,' Jamesie replied, ‘but there are stories about them, you know.'

‘I think everything around here must be enchanted,' said Cowlick.

Jamesie said no more, and the others smiled at each other again and let the matter drop.

‘Did you ever speak to Biddy before?' asked Tapser, looking down at the house and wondering about her.

‘Of course I did … Well, I suppose you could say I did. Or I nearly did anyway.'

‘How do you mean?' asked Cowlick.

‘John Joe Murphy's cow had ringworm. It had it really bad, and he asked me to help him take her up to Biddy's for a cure.'

‘And did she cure it?' asked Rachel.

‘Of course she did.'

‘How?' asked Róisín.

‘I'm not sure. She mumbled a few things around it and gave John Joe ointment for it, and that was all.'

Tapser was still looking down at her house and her animals and couldn't resist remarking, ‘They don't look like enchanted water-horses to me.'

Jamesie ignored him and said, ‘If you leave Prince here it might be best.'

‘Okay, I'll tie him to the caravan.' Tapser ruffled the collie's head and added, ‘You won't mind, will you, boy?'

Just why they all crept over to Biddy's place instead of walking straight up to it, none of them quite knew. Maybe it was because they wanted to see what sort of situation they were getting themselves into before knocking on the door.

A wisp of blue turf smoke drifted up from the chimney, so they knew Biddy was at home. Her hens were busy scratching in the clay. The netting-wire gate of the hen-run was open and out strutted a large black rooster. On seeing them it lowered its head and arched its wings.

‘Shoo,' said Jamesie. He waved his hands, and the rooster took to the air with a loud squawk, flapped over the fence and dropped down behind the hen shed.

‘What a strange hen,' whispered Rachel.

‘That isn't a hen,' Cowlick told her. ‘It's a cock.'

The others giggled and followed Jamesie into the hen pen to see where the rooster had gone. At the corner of the shed they stopped abruptly, for instead of the rooster they came upon a crow. It was sitting on the wire fence, and when it saw them it cawed harshly at them with its big beak. Startled, they turned to run, only to find their way barred by Biddy of the Lake!

Enchanted or not, Biddy's horses and donkeys galloped up to the cottage to see what all the commotion was about. The geese gathered around too and hissed and honked, and the hens scattered in confusion.

‘Foxglove,' Jamesie managed to blurt. ‘We came to ask about the foxglove.'

Biddy was a portly woman, round-faced and with long flaxen hair quite unsuited to her age or her small round figure. Her dress was short and black and bulged here and there. Whatever they expected her to say, she didn't. Instead she just giggled a toothless type of giggle and walked back into the cottage.

Following her in, they found her sitting at the open fire, and Rachel said, ‘It's very important, really it is, Miss Biddy.'

‘Don't call me Biddy,' she replied irritably. ‘My name's Winifred.' She poked the fire, sending a shower of sparks swirling up the chimney, then folded her arms and looked at them.

‘I'm sorry,' said Rachel, anxious to make amends. ‘I didn't mean any offence.'

‘Hmmm … I suppose not.' She looked at Jamesie. ‘I suppose that's your doing?'

‘Who, me? I don't know what you mean.'

‘You were here before, with John Joe Murphy's cow.'

‘That's right,' said Jamesie. ‘You gave him a cure for the ringworm. It worked too.'

‘And why wouldn't it work? Sure it's more than ringworm I've cured in my day.' She pointed to a dresser standing at the wall opposite the fire. They could see in the half light that its shelves were crammed full of bottles of all shapes, sizes and colours. ‘There are more cures there than ye'll ever get from any doctor or read in any book.'

She certainly had enough of them, they could see that, and on looking around they could also see there was an assortment of bowls on the table and an untidy collection of withered plants and flowers, and various greens which they couldn't identify but which they assumed to be herbs.

‘Why is it so important to ye?' she asked them. ‘The foxglove.'

‘Because we think it'll help us find our Uncle Pakie,' Rachel replied.

Jamesie told her how Pakie had disappeared, and about the poem, and how they had figured out some of it.

‘
Fairies and witches, foxes in ditches
?' Biddy giggled. ‘Well, I don't know much about poems, but I do know something about flowers. And ye could be right about the foxglove. It is poisonous. That's why it's sometimes called dead man's bells.'

‘
Deadly the fingers that point to life's riches
,' said Tapser.

‘But it can also give life,' she went on. ‘It has a substance called digitalis that can be used to treat heart trouble.'

‘Health,' said Róisín. ‘That's one of life's riches.'

‘And if Tapser's right and it has another meaning,' said Cowlick. ‘It could also mean the poachers. You know, that they're after life's riches, the salmon, and that they're deadly, meaning they'll stop at nothing to get them.'

‘That settles it then,' said Rachel. ‘Pakie must mean the foxglove.'

‘And maybe more,' said Biddy. She got up and went over to the dresser where she had her cures. ‘He could also mean deadly nightshade. That's poisonous too. And that line about tall spires of gold …'

‘
Beneath tall spires of gold the Story is told
,' Jamesie reminded her.

‘That could be the great mullein. It's a very tall plant with lovely yellow flowers all the way up the stem.'

Suddenly they were thinking that maybe Biddy wasn't so touched after all, and they crowded around Jamesie to have another read of the poem …

‘Faith an' your Uncle Pakie's a very smart man,' Biddy continued, running her finger across the bottles on the dresser. ‘Because I think he means something else as well.'

They looked up and waited to hear more.

‘Ye see,' she said, coming back with a small blue bottle in her hand, ‘he's talking about the
lus mór
.'

‘The
lus mór
?' said Tapser. ‘What's that?'

‘It means the great herb. The great mullein is the
lus mór
. Deadly nightshade is the
lus mór na coille
, the great herb of the wood. And the foxglove is the
lus mór
baineann
, or
lus na mban sídhe
– the herb of the fairy women.'

They looked at each other, mesmerised by the extent of Biddy's knowledge of plants and their Irish names.

‘That's the real clue,' she went on. ‘They're all known in Irish as the
lus mór
.' Then, when she saw that they didn't understand, she explained, ‘Well, for one thing these were all very special herbs in days gone by. Ye see, the old stories say that when people believed a child had been stolen by the fairies and a changeling child left in its place, it was the juice of the
lus mór
that was used to bring it back.'

‘Which one?' asked Jamesie. ‘The foxglove?'

‘It doesn't matter which one,' said Biddy sternly. ‘All ye need to remember is that they're all deadly poisonous, except the great mullein.'

‘So we're right,' said Róisín. ‘Pakie
is
trying to say where he's being held. And he's hoping that whoever finds the poem will try and bring him back.'

‘Maybe he means some place where all these plants grow together,' suggested Rachel.

‘We thought maybe an island,' said Tapser, ‘with a church.'

‘Where nymphs dance in the moonlight and secrets unfold
,' said Cowlick, quoting from the poem.

‘The poachers' hiding place,' added Jamesie.

Biddy didn't answer them right away. Instead she gave Rachel the blue bottle and whispered to her, ‘When ye find yer Uncle Pakie give him this. He'll need a good tonic, and that'll bring him back to his old self in no time.'

‘But where will we look for him?' asked Rachel.

Biddy giggled. ‘There's only one place where ye'll find all three growing together – and the ruins of a church.'

‘Where?' they asked.

‘On Lusmore Island of course. The Island of the Great Herb.'

* * *

Back at their campsite near Pakie's place, Rachel looked at the blue bottle Biddy had given her. ‘I still haven't forgiven you for not telling me Biddy wasn't her real name,' she told Jamesie crossly.