CHAPTER XVI

THE GIANT’S CAUSEWAY

“Stand still now, while I count you once more,” directed Aunt Hannah, as they stood at the street corner in Portrush waiting for the electric tram-car to take them down to the Giant’s Causeway.

“No matter how many times I count you, there’s always one missing. Deena, look out for Columba. Kathleen, stand there by your brother;” and Mrs. Malone took Victoria firmly by the hand and gathered the children closer together lest one should stray away before they could all be safely settled in the car.

“Everyone looks at us as if they thought we were crazy,” said Hannah. “Do you remember the man in Dublin who said, ‘There’s a big man with a big family’?”

“He was wishing himself in my place, I’m thinking,” said her father with fond pride, as he looked over his rollicking brood; “and it takes a big family to see a big city, for everyone sees something different.”

“We saw a good deal of Dublin for one day, even if Kathleen and Feena did get lost,” said Connie, taking Feena’s hand to keep her from getting lost again.

“It was easy to get lost in O’Connell Street,” replied Feena. “There were so many lovely things in the shop windows that I just thought I’d go inside to see more.”

“Here comes the car,” shouted Columba, and in a moment all the younger Malones were scrambling in, to get seats by the window, while the older ones followed more slowly.

“I wonder where Father is,” Kathleen said, as the car ran along through the center of the little town. “I’ve looked for him everywhere this morning.”

“Perhaps he will meet us at the Giant’s Causeway,” suggested Danny. “Uncle Tom wrote to him that we would be there to-day.”

“Then we will be going over to see Mary Ellen to-morrow,” said Kathleen with a little sigh of happiness, and she folded her hands in her lap and sat for a long time looking quietly out of the window.

“The sea! the sea!” cried Columba, as the car rounded a curve in the road, and there lay before them the blue waters of the Atlantic.

Immediately there was the greatest excitement among the children. “Think of our never having seen the ocean before!” exclaimed Feena, “and our little green island is all surrounded by it.”

“Don’t be calling your own country little,” Deena reproved her. “Faith, we could whip the whole world before breakfast if we’d put our minds to it.”

“There’s the sea again,” called Columba. “See how white the chalk cliffs look, where the sun is shining on them.”

“There were chalk cliffs in Tonroe,” Kathleen told him, “but they were not so high as those, and they didn’t have such wonderful shapes.”

“Look, Kathleen, do you see those men down there among the rocks gathering seaweed?” Danny asked. “That is the way I used to gather it for Farmer Flynn. See the big pile of it they have; and there is one man loading it into a cart.”

“And look, Kathleen, there’s a castle up there on the rocks,” said Feena, turning to point out to her cousin the gray towers of an ancient castle perched high on a rugged cliff.

“That’s Dunluce Castle,” Uncle Tom told them. “It has stood there a long time, and could tell many a tale of old Irish wars.”

“I’ll tell you a tale about it now; it’s easy to make up stories about castles like that,” Feena whispered to Kathleen.

“There was once an Irish princess, as beautiful as the dawn,” she began in a low voice, “and her father, the king, locked her up in one of those old towers and set a dragon to guard her. A prince came riding by on a horse as black as night. He saw the princess standing at the tower window, looking out over the sea, and he fell in love with her sad, sweet face. So he rode down to the cave where the Witch of the Sea lived all alone,—”

“Here we are, at the end of our car ride,” her father interrupted. “Now for a walk along the shore and a climb over the rocks of the Causeway.”

The Giant’s Causeway is a low rocky pier which stretches out into the ocean about six hundred feet, gradually sinking below the waves. It is composed of about forty thousand upright stone columns which are fitted closely together, the cracks between them being very narrow but showing plainly the sides of each column.

Most of the columns have five, six, or seven sides; some have four or eight; a very few have nine; and there is one among the forty thousand which has only three sides.

“It looks like the beginning of the world,” said Mrs. Malone, looking up at the enormous cliffs and out over the tremendous, swelling sea,—the big waves roaring and crashing among the black rocks. “Those tall crags stand there as if they had been guarding the ocean for centuries.”

“So they have,” replied her husband, “and they guarded this part of our island from the golden-haired tribes of the De Danaans, when they came sailing across the sea from the north some four thousand years ago. These great cliffs offered no shelter and they had to sail west or south to find a landing-place.”

“Four thousand years ago,” repeated Kathleen. “Were there men living in Ireland as long ago as that?”

“Yes,” replied her uncle, “and Ireland was as pleasant a place to live in then as it is now. It was a land of forests, echoing in spring and summer to the songs of the birds. Wild cattle, deer and wolves roamed through the dense woods. Everywhere in the deep forests were blue lakes and silver rivers teeming with trout and salmon; and the seas beat restlessly against the coast, while flocks of white gulls sailed peacefully between the blue of the sky and the blue of the sea.”

“It is easy to believe that this Causeway was built by a giant,” said Columba, who had been climbing over the rocks, and came back now to sit down beside his father.

“Was it really?” asked Kathleen.

“Of course it was,” replied her cousin. “Tell her about it, Father. She likes stories of giants.”

“I’ll tell her the truth first,” said his father, “and that is that the Causeway and all these black cliffs were made by a volcano which poured out hot lava over this part of the coast thousands of years ago. The lava cooled and cracked into these wonderful shapes,—the Giant’s Causeway, the Giant’s Spectacles, the Giant’s Organ—and now it is one of the great sights of Ireland, which hundreds of tourists come every year to see.

“But the people of old Ireland liked to tell strange tales of the rocks and mountains and so they made up the story of Finn MacCool.

“Finn MacCool was a giant who lived up here in the north of Ireland, and as strong and powerful a giant as you’d wish to see. He’d take a thunder-bolt and flatten it out like a pancake, or pull up a pine tree and lop off the roots and branches to make himself a walking-stick; and he was so strong that he had whipped every other giant in the country who was willing to fight with him.

“Over there where you see the blue hills of Scotland lived a Scotch giant, and one day he shouted out to Finn that he’d come over and whip him with one hand if he could only cross the ocean without wetting his feet.

“That very night Finn MacCool set to work to build this causeway of rock straight across the sea to the coast of Scotland; and when it was finished the Scotch giant came over the sea dry-shod, while Finn played a tune on his organ for him to cross to the sound of music.

“Then there was the greatest wrestling match the world ever saw: but Finn had the best of it from the start, and sent the Scotchman home to a different tune.

“Some say that Finn pushed part of the Causeway under the waves so that the giant had to swim home; and you can see for yourself that it seems to sink under the water out there.

“There is a bit of it left on the coast of Scotland, too,” he added with a laugh.

“It is a good story, even if it isn’t true,” said Columba.

“It sounds true,” said Kathleen. “Do you know any more stories about Finn MacCool, Uncle Tom?”

“One or two,” replied her uncle, “but I can’t tell them to you now. Run and find your Aunt Hannah and the children, and we’ll all go and take a look at the Giant’s Organ.”

Kathleen started off at once to find her Aunt Hannah, and as she climbed over the rocks she saw so many bright-eyed pinks that she stopped to gather a handful.

“What’s that you are doing, Kathleen?” asked a familiar voice, and she looked up quickly to find her father standing beside her.

“Oh, Father!” she cried, throwing her arms around him, “I was hoping that I would find you down here. I have such good news to tell you!”

Copyright by Underwood & Underwood, New York

The Giant’s Causeway

“See that little girl out there on the rocks with the big dog beside her.” [ Page 111]

“It’s good news that you’re here, Kathleen mavourneen,” replied her father, giving her a hearty kiss.

“But it is much better than that,” said Kathleen. “Mary Ellen can see. Cousin Bee wrote to me about it.”

“So she can,” said her father, “and a great blessing it is to the dear child.”

“You knew it all the time!” exclaimed Kathleen, “and I thought it was a secret. Who told you? Did Cousin Bee write to you, too?”

“Perhaps she did,” her father answered; and then, looking out across the Causeway, he added, “See that little girl out there on the rocks with the big dog beside her. Do you think it is safe for her to be there all alone? Go and tell her that she’d better come up here with you.”

“Uncle Tom sent me to find Aunt Hannah and the children,” said Kathleen. “I think they are over there on the sand looking for sea-shells.”

“I’ll go down and speak to them,” her father said, “and we will all come back and meet you.”

So Kathleen clambered out over the rocky pier, stopping every few minutes to see if the little girl were still safe.

“She looks like Mary Ellen, only bigger,” she said to herself, as she came nearer and saw the child’s yellow curls.

Just then the little girl began singing in a sweet soft voice, “How many miles to Dublin Town?” and Kathleen knew at once that it was Mary Ellen herself, singing for happiness the little song they used to sing together in Donegal.

“Mary Ellen!” she called; “Mary Ellen!”

And the little sister turned and held out her arms, crying, “I hear you, Kathleen; I’d know your voice anywhere. But, best of all, I can see you now.”

Such a hugging and laughing and chattering as there was then. Kathleen had to tell Mary Ellen all about Kilkenny and the Malones, and Mary Ellen had to tell Kathleen about the doctor and the hospital and Cousin Bee.

“And she brought me up here to meet you and Father,” she said.

“Who did?” asked Kathleen.

“Cousin Bee, of course,” replied her sister; “and she and Father are planning that we will all live in Tonroe next year, and you and I are both going to school there. Father is to have the little farm next to Cousin Patrick’s, and we are going to have two little donkeys for our very own.”

“Kathleen,” shouted Columba, “we are going over to the wishing chair. Father says he wants to wish that we’ll all get home without getting lost again.”

“Yes,” answered Kathleen, and she took her sister’s hand to lead her back over the rocks.

“You won’t have to lead me any more,” said Mary Ellen.

“That’s so, darling; but I’ll be forgetting it all the time at first,” replied Kathleen.

“Tallyho-o-o for the wishing chair!” called Columba again.

“Yes,” answered Kathleen, “we’re coming.” Then she looked lovingly at her little sister and added, “But I’ve nothing to wish for now that Mary Ellen can see.”

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