VI
Mell the Hen-wife's son sat in the supper-room of the Castle again that night. The King's daughter, Princess Bright Brow, was there and she was as white as white rose-leaves and tears were falling down her cheeks. And when the wine had been drunk out of the cups the King stood up and called upon the Cook's son to come up to the High Chair and tell all how he had overthrown and had bound the Red Champion who would have put a tribute upon the Kingdom. The Cook's son came up to the High Chair and he told them a story that was wonderful indeed. And when the story was told the King said "Loose the Red Champion whom you bound, and when he has knelt here and prayed to us for forgiveness the King's daughter will take your hands and will marry you." "Look," said the damsel Sea Swan to Mell the Hen Wife's son, "how the Princess Bright Brow is pulling the hairs from her head in her grief."
The Red Champion was brought in bound and the Cook's son began to try to unbind him. But not one knot could he loosen. He tried and he tried and he broke his nails trying. "This is strange indeed," said the King, "for it used to be said that whoever bound one could loosen one."
He tried again and he tried again and not one cord could he loosen from another. Then the King's daughter Princess Bright Brow looked up. "How strange it would be," said she, "if it was not the Cook's son who bound the Red Champion."
Then up the Hall came Mell the Hen-wife's son. He stood over the Red Champion and he pulled a cord here and he pulled a cord there and in a minute he was unbound. All in the hall began to murmur "Surely the one who unloosed him bound him," said many people.
"He is the one who bound me," said the Red Champion, pointing out Mell the Hen-wife's son, "and besides it was he who cut the red plume off my cap and who took the silver-studded belt from me."
"Speak up and deny what he says," said the King to the Cook's son.
But when the Cook's son tried to speak he stuttered and stammered and his knees began to knock together and his hands went shaking. And when the company looked at him there was not one there who believed he had fought the Red Champion. And when the Cook's son looked round and saw there was not one there who believed in him he gathered the supper-things of the table like an attendant and went out of the room.
"And now," said the King to Mell, the Hen-wife's son, "since there is no doubt but it was you who conquered the champion to you I give my daughter's hand. Take her now for your wife and take half of my kingdom with her."
Then Bright Brow lifted her face to him and she put her hands in his hands.
"Mell," said she, "Mell the Hen-wife's son, I knew for long that you would come to me like this. Forgive me and love me," said she, "and I will love you from this night."
And so Mell the Hen-wife's son and the King's daughter, Princess Bright Brow, came together again. He married her and came to rule over half her father's kingdom. They lived happy ever afterwards, of course. And Mell brought his mother out of the hut beside the poultry-coop and he took her to live in the Castle. And in the end his mother married the Steward who had become a widower and she became the most respected dame in and about the King's Castle. And as for the Cook's son he is still in the Cook-house amongst the pots and the pans, the lids and the ladles.
The Giant and the Birds
The Cock scraped and the Hens scraped and when the Hens went away the Cock scraped by himself. He called the Hens back, and they all scraped deeper and deeper. Then something was shown; it was bright and round, and the Cock and the three Hens scraped until the whole of it was to be seen. It was a great ring of brass.
"Tell us how you knew the bright thing was there, Hero-son of my heart?" said the Little Slate-colored Hen that was the Cock's mother.
"Do, do," said the Feather-legged Hen.
"Tell us, Top of Wisdom," said the Blue Hen.
"You all know," said the Cock, "that the earth rocks underneath the place where I crow in the morning."
"We know, O Unvanquishable," said the three Hens.
"The earth never rocked here," said the Cock, "hence I knew that something powerful was under the ground at this place. It was the ring of brass. Now it will be found and brought into the house. And when I stand here and crow in the morning the earth will rock as it does in every other place in the world."
"It will, it will," said the Feather-legged Hen.
"It must, O Top of Valor," said the Blue Hen.
"And you will tell us how the ring of brass came to be there, Hero-son of my heart," said the Little Slate-colored Hen that was the Cock's mother.
"In the course of the evening I may do so," said the Cock condescendingly.
When they were beside the sunny wall, the Hens on the ground scattering dust over their feathers and their lord standing on one leg with his comb hanging over one eye the Cock said "No Cock of our breed ever told this story before. They would not frighten the hens with it. However, since you have persuaded me I will tell you the tale. My grandfather told it to my father who told it to me. It is the story of the Big Man who came to this place and who wore the ring of brass that we uncovered to-day."
He did not put it over his head as you might think from the size of the ring. No. He wore it on his arm. Never was a bigger man seen by anyone living. The whole countryside stood outside their houses to see him come over the hills. When he came to where the stones are he stooped down to take a drink and he drank the well dry. The people came out of the house to meet him, and he spoke to them, and out of what he said to them they drew his story.
As I am to a Bantam, the Big Man was to the other men of the country. And if they were surprised at his bigness, he was astonished at their smallness. For he came from a time when all were as big as he. A hundred and a hundred years before he had hunted with his companions, and he was then called, not Big Man, but Little Fawn.
And one day—a hundred and a hundred years ago it was—he had gone to chase a deer. The deer fled into a cave. He followed with his hounds and his sword, his trumpet and his missile-ball. He went astray and fell asleep in the Cave. And when he wakened up, his hounds were heaps of dust beside him. He went into the world, and he found that his companions were dead for a hundred and a hundred years and that the men of the earth had become smaller and smaller. In the Cave he left his sword and his trumpet and his missile-ball.
All flew from the mountain except one bird and he was the greatest amongst them all.
The Cock put his two feet on the ground and shook his red comb from over his left to over his right eye. Then said he, Everyone in the house was friendly to Little Fawn except one person—Murrish the Cook-woman. From the first day he came there were disputes between them. "Big men have big appetites," said she to him the day he came, "and so to-night I will give you two eggs for your supper." But when she handed him the eggs Little Fawn said "It was not the eggs of the hedge-sparrow we were wont to eat in my time." "Eggs of the hedge-sparrow!" said Murrish, "I have handed you the biggest eggs laid by the best hens in the country." "In my time there were bigger eggs in the nest of the hedge-sparrow," said Little Fawn.
The next day she gave him a barley-cake for his breakfast. He ate it and then sent the boy—Ardan was his name—to ask what else she was going to give him.
"Give him!" said Murrish the Cook-woman, "I have given him a whole barley cake, and that is enough for two men's breakfasts."
"Tell her," said Little Fawn, "that I often saw an ivy-leaf that was as big as her barley cake."
"Tell him," said Murrish the Cook-woman, "that I am not here to listen to old mens' romances."
Now when he heard that his words were taken as old men's romances Little Fawn was an angry man. He was hungry, for the food he got did not stay his appetite, but what Murrish said in doubt of his word gave him more hurt than his hunger did. For in his day and amongst his companions a lie was never told and nothing a man said was ever doubted.
The next day he sent back the dish for more butter.
"Tell him," said Murrish the cook-woman, "that I put a whole pat of butter on his dish—enough to do two men for two days."
"Tell her," said Little Fawn, "that often I saw a rowan berry that was bigger as her pat of butter."
"The child just out of the cradle would not believe that story," said Murrish the cook-woman.
She sent him a quarter of mutton for his dinner. Little Fawn told Ardan to ask Murrish for more, as the dinner she gave him left him hungry still.
"Did he not get a whole quarter of mutton for his dinner?" said Murrish.
"A whole quarter of mutton, did she say?" said Little Fawn. "Often I saw a quarter of a blackbird that was bigger than her quarter of mutton."
"A quarter of a blackbird bigger than my quarter of mutton! Tell him that if he never lied before, he lies now," said Murrish.
"Does she say that?" said Little Fawn. "Then I swear I shall never rest in the house nor be easy in my mind until I bring her an ivy leaf that is as big as her barley loaf, and a rowan berry that is as big as her pat of butter, and if I bring these," said he, "it may not be needful for me to get her the blackbird that is as big in one quarter as the quarter of mutton that she gave me for my dinner."
There and then he went from the house and Ardan the boy went with him. They went east and they went west, they went towards the north and towards the south, but no ivy leaf did they find that was as big as a barley loaf, and no rowan berry did they see that was as big as a pat of butter. Little Fawn was troubled and downcast. They came back to the house, and Murrish the Cook-woman was pleased when she heard from Ardan that they found no ivy leaf and saw no rowan berry that was as big as her barley loaf or her pat of butter. "There is only one thing I can do now," said Little Fawn, "and that is to bring her the blackbird that is as big in one quarter as the quarter of mutton she gave me for my dinner. And that," said he to Ardan, "will take time and trouble and the meeting of danger to bring about."
"Time and trouble," said the Feather-legged Hen, "time and trouble!"
"Why did he say time and trouble, O Top of Wisdom?" said the Blue Hen.
"Hush now," said the Little Slate-colored Hen that was the Cock's mother. "Hush now, and let the Hero-son of my heart tell what's best in the story...."
"Little Fawn was an old man, white-haired and feeble when he came to the house," said the Cock, and now he was nearly blind. His mind would not be at rest, he told Ardan, until he brought to Murrish and showed her a blackbird that was as big in one quarter as the quarter of mutton she gave him for his dinner. "But before I can take that blackbird," said he, "I must have a hound. There is a hound in the yard, but I have tried her and found she is weak and fearful. She will have puppies, and one of her puppies, maybe, will do." And he told Ardan to tell him when the puppies came to the hound that was in the yard.
Then one day Ardan came and told him that there was a litter of puppies with the hound. "That is well," said Little Fawn, "and in a while we will try if one has the strength and courage enough to help us to take the blackbird."
He told Ardan what to do. He was to take the skin that had been stripped off a dead horse and he was to nail this skin upon a door in the yard. Then he was to do a curious thing. He was to take up each puppy and fling it against the door.
Ardan did all this and Little Fawn stood by and heard the puppies yowling as they fell on the ground. They scampered away. Then he heard nothing except Ardan's laugh.
"Why are you laughing, my boy?" said Little Fawn.
"I laugh to see what the last puppy is doing," said Ardan.
"And what is he doing?" said Little Fawn.
"He has not fallen to the ground like the others. He has caught hold of the horseskin with his teeth and he is holding on to it."
"That puppy will do," said Little Fawn. "He has strength and courage. Take him and rear him away from the others, and when he comes to his full strength you and I will take him to hunt the blackbird that is as big in one quarter as the quarter of mutton Murrish the Cook-woman gave me for my dinner. We must make our word good this time, good lad." Ardan took away the puppy (Conbeg they called him) from the others and reared him up. Little Fawn tested his strength and courage in many ways. At length he was satisfied. One day he put a leash on Conbeg and he told the boy to come with him. Little Fawn and Ardan and Conbeg the young hound went away from the house.
"'Tis the best part of the story," said the Little Slate-colored Hen that was the Cock's mother.
"It is, it is," said the Feather-legged Hen.
"And how well he tells it, the Top of Wisdom," said the Blue Hen.
"I tell it as my father told me and as his father told him," said the Cock changing legs. "The first place they went was into the Cave where the Big Man had lain for a hundred and a hundred years. They found there the heap of dust that was his two hounds, and they found too the missile-ball of brass and the trumpet and the great sword. They left the Cave and they turned south, and they went on and on till they came to the mountain that is called Slieve-na-Mon. The boy and the man and the hound rested themselves for a while on the level on the top of the mountain.
Then Little Fawn told Ardan to take the trumpet and put it to his mouth. He blew on the trumpet. O louder than ever I crowed was the noise he made on that trumpet. The trees that were growing on the mountain top shook at the sound.
"Blow again," said Little Fawn.
And Ardan blew again and he blew louder.
"Now look into the sky," said Little Fawn, "and tell me what you see coming towards us."
Ardan looked for a long time, and at last he saw what he thought was a cloud coming towards the mountain-top. And then he saw that the cloud was a flock of birds. They came to the mountain-top and lighted on the ground—Peewits, Blackbirds, Starlings, Finches, Linnets—and each was bigger than any bird he had ever seen. The birds were hardly afraid of the hound, but Conbeg went amongst them and drove them away.
And then another cloud was seen coming across the sky, and this cloud came to be a flock of birds too, and they came to the mountain-top and lighted on the ground—Linnets, Finches, Starlings, Blackbirds, Peewits—and each bird was bigger than the birds in the first flock. "Loose the hound on them," said Little Fawn. Ardan unslipped Conbeg and the hound went amongst the birds. But they were not afraid and they attacked the hound, and only his strength and courage was so great they would have driven him off the mountain-top.
They rose up and they flew away, and as they did another flock of birds came towards the mountain-top. They lighted on the ground—Peewits, Blackbirds, Starlings, Finches, Linnets—tremendous birds. Ardan loosed Conbeg on them. Then with beaks open and claws outstretched they flew at Ardan and Little Fawn. Little Fawn took his great sword in hand and he attacked them with such strength that the great birds flew off.
All flew from the mountain except one bird. He was a Blackbird and the greatest amongst them all. When Ardan told Little Fawn that this bird was left alone on a rock the Big Man told him to unloose Conbeg.
The hound dashed at the Blackbird but the blackbird flew at him and attacked him with beak and claws. With a sweep of his wing he threw Conbeg on the ground. Then he rose up in the air and flew towards Ardan and Little Fawn.
"You will escape him," said Ardan, "but me he will kill as he has killed Conbeg." "Put the missile-ball into my hand and guide my aim," said Little Fawn. Ardan put the missile-ball of brass into the Big Man's hand and guided his aim. Little Fawn threw the missile-ball and the Blackbird fell down on the ground. But the bird was not killed.
"A frightening tale, a frightening tale," said the Blue Hen.
"So it is, so it is," said the Feather-legged Hen.
"But you have done well to tell the Hens the story, Hero-son of my heart," said the Little Slate-colored Hen that was the Cock's mother.
"More has to be told," said the Cock, "and it is needful that it should be told now. Murrish the Cook-woman was in the kitchen. In dashed Conbeg the hound, his eyes blazing with the fierceness of the chase. Murrish was so frightened that she ran to the door. And coming to the door she saw Little Fawn with a net on his shoulder. He came into the house and he put the net on the floor, and he showed Murrish what was in the net—a tremendous bird—a Blackbird that was as big in one quarter as the quarter of mutton she had on the table. And when the net was laid down on the ground the Blackbird flew up and he carried the middle of the roof away with him as he flew through it and he tumbled beams and rafters down upon Murrish. My grandfather saw the Blackbird flying towards the mountain that is called Slieve-na-Mon, and my grandfather told my father who told me." "You spoke the truth when you said that you saw a blackbird as big in one quarter as the quarter of mutton I gave you for your dinner," said Murrish the cook-woman to Little Fawn. "And I believe you when you say you saw an ivy leaf as big as my barley loaf and a rowan berry as big as my pat of butter." "I would only show you," said Little Fawn "that the men I lived amongst had truth on their lips as they had strength in their hands and courage in their hearts."
And from that day Little Fawn and Murrish the Cook-woman lived in peace and good fellowship, and Ardan and Conbeg grew up together and became famous, one and the other. They lived happy for long, but as the books say.—
The end of every ship is drowning,
The end of every kiln is burning,
The end of every feast is wasting,
The end of every laugh is sighing.
And if they were here once, they are here no more.
"And if they are not, we are," said the Slate-colored Hen that was the Cock's mother. "We're here," said she, "and the earth, I promise you, will shake under your feet to-morrow, no matter where you crow, Hero-son of my heart."
The Sea-Maiden who became a Sea-Swan
The Sea-Swan told the story to the pigeons of the rock, and the Boy Who Knew What the Birds said heard every word of it. I was once a Sea-Maiden, she said, and my name was Eevil, and I was known through all the Kingdoms that are Under-Wave for my beautiful hair—my long, beautiful, green hair. Something was in me that made me want to dance, and I used to rise up through the water, and dance on the shore of the island that is called Hathony.
Mananaun, as you, creatures, know, is Lord of the Sea, and what he commands in the Kingdoms-Under-Wave has to be. Now Mananaun made a promise to a King of an Earth-Kingdom, and the promise was that he would give this King whatever he asked for. The King died according to the ways of men, and his son, whose name was Branduv, came to rule him.
Branduv called Mananaun out of the sea, and he asked that he renew the promise he had made to his father. The Lord of the Sea did not want a promise to lapse because of the death of a man, and he renewed it to the man's son. Then Mananaun told him he would take him and show him the Kingdoms of the Sea and whatever he saw that he desired there would be given to him. He took him in his boat of glass "The Ocean Sweeper" to visit the Kingdoms of the Sea.
They came to Moy Mell, the Plain of Pleasure, and there Mananaun gave Branduv a branch of everlasting blossoms; they came to another Kingdom and there Mananaun gave him a sword that was the best wrought in the world; they came to a third Kingdom and there Mananaun gave him a pair of hounds that could run down the silver-antlered stag. But as yet Branduv the King had asked no gift from Mananaun.
They came to Mananaun's own Kingdom, Silver-Cloud Plain, and there Branduv was left alone while Mananaun drank the Ale of the Ever-Living Ones. The King saw from the shores of Silver-Cloud Plain "The Ocean Sweeper," and he directed that the boat bring him to the island. And the boat travelled as the one in it wished.
Only one thing had ever made me fearful of dancing on the shore of the Island of Hathony—that was the presence there of a pair of Ravens. These Ravens had once been Sea-maidens, but they had desired men for husbands, and they had gone to them. The men forsook them, and they had become first Witches and afterwards Ravens. Ever since their change they wished harm to the Maidens of the Sea. I had been frightened of them, but now I had seen them flapping about so often that I was no longer or I was only a little, afraid.
I came up through the sea and I danced upon the shore of the island, and the play of the waves was in my dance, and my long soft green hair fell over my foam-white, foam soft body. I danced on, O my listeners, and as no one had ever seen me looked upon, I thought no one looked upon me now.
But this King of the earthly Kingdom saw me. He saw me as I danced by the waves, and I was the fairest thing he had ever looked upon. At first he was all wonder and no robber's thoughts were in his mind. But the Ravens came to him. One perched on one shoulder and one perched on the other, and one said "If you carry Eevil off you will have the fairest wife in all the world," and the other said "If you leave her here you will never look on anything as fair again."
The Ravens flapped before him to guide him to a place in the dark rocks where he might hide and to which I might come. He followed where they led. But I saw his shadow on a rock. I drew back and the sea took me and drew me into its depths. "The sea has taken her," said Branduv to the Ravens.
"Mananaun is Lord of the Sea," said one of the Ravens.
"And Mananaun has promised you a gift, and he cannot refuse what you will ask," said the other Raven.
Then the Ravens flapped away and Mananaun came to where the King was standing. "You have asked me for a gift," said Mananaun, "think now of what you desire before I take you back to your own island." Then said Branduv, "What I ask is that you bestow upon me the Sea-maiden who was dancing here, Eevil."
Mananaun in anger lifted his spear. But then he remembered he was bound by a promise to Branduv. He lowered the spear he had raised. "I will give you any other gift you ask," said he, "even my own boat 'The Ocean Sweeper.'"
"I hold you to your promise," said Branduv, "and I declare to you that I shall take no other gift unless it be the maiden who was here dancing by the sea."
"It must be then that I give her you," said Mananaun, and his face was dark.
Down he went to the Kingdom-Under-Wave and he came to the black mansion where lived the Seven Spinning Women of the Sea. He spoke as speaks a King who has a hard thing to do. "A law has to be broken," said he. "What law, Lord?" said the Spinning Women. "The law that saves our Maidens from taking part in the stormy lives of men." "We would rather that anything else but this should happen, Lord," said the Seven Spinning Women. "This thing must happen," said Mananaun, "and the Maiden Eevil must go to Branduv the King." "She must be prepared for this," said the Seven Spinning Women.
They came to me and they told me that the man whose shadow I had seen on the rock now claimed me for his wife and that Mananaun would not gainsay him. When I heard this, O my listeners, the life nearly left me.
This comfort the Seven Spinning Women gave me: I was to stay on his island so that I might become used to the earthly kingdom, but that I was not to see Branduv until the green had left my hair and the brown that the sun makes had come into my cheeks. So I came to Branduv's island. I lived by the sea-shore and the women of the island attended me.
How different was this earthly land from the Kingdom-Under-Wave. With us there was but the one mild season, the one mild light. Here there was glaring day and terrible darkness, bitter winds and hot beams of the sun. With us there were songs and tales, but the songs were about love or about the beautiful things we had seen. Here the tales and songs were about battles and forays and slaying with the sword. What they told of their loves was terrible, so much violence and unfaithfulness was in them.
The soft green tints were going out of my hair and the sun was putting brownness in my cheeks. Soon my hair would be wheaten-colored like the hair of the women of the islands and my cheeks would be brown like theirs. And then the day would come when I should have to be with the man whom I looked upon as my enemy.
I used to stay by the shore and speak with the birds that came in from the sea, for I knew their language. Never again could I go back to the Kingdom-Under-Wave. Green shade after green shade left my hair, brown tint after brown tint came into my cheeks, and what could I do but envy the birds that could make their flight from the islands of men. And when the green had nearly gone altogether from my hair I thought of a desperate thing I might do.
I put it to my lips, I drank it when he took a step towards me.
I sent a message to my sisters, and I sent it by many birds, so that if they did not get it by one they might get it by another. And I asked in my message that they send me a draft from the Well under the Sea, and that they send it in the cup that the Seven Spinning Women guarded. It would be terrible for any of my sisters to come to Branduv's island with the draft and the cup, but I begged that they would do it for me.
The days went by and the green color was now only a shade in my hair, and brownness was on my cheeks, and the women said "Before this old moon is gone our King will come here to wed you."
Then one day I found on the shore the cup that my sisters had brought and the draft from the Secret Well was in it. I took the cup in my hands and I brought it where I lived. "Come to us," said the women, "so that we may undo your hair and tell the King when he may come to wed you." They loosened my hair and then they said "there is no shade of green here at all. Bid the King come as early as he likes to-morrow."
I lay that night with the cup beside me. When I rose I knew that day I should drink from the cup my sisters had sent me—drink the draft that would change me into what I wished to be—a bird of the sea.
And while I sat with the cup beside me and my hair spread out, Branduv, the King of the Island, came to the door of the house. It may have been that I was becoming used to the sight of people of the earthly kingdoms, for, as I looked upon him he did not seem terrible to me. He looked noble, I thought, and eager to befriend me and love me. But the cup was in my hands when he came to the door. I put it to my lips when he entered the house. I drank it when he took a step towards me. And thereupon I became what I had wished to be—a Sea-Swan.
O my listeners! Maybe it would have been well for me if I had wed that King, and be now as the women of the islands. For now as I fly over the sea the King's look comes before me, and I think that he was eager to befriend me and eager to love me. So I am not content when I am flying over the sea. And I am lonely when I am on these islands, for I am now a Swan, and what has a Swan to do with the lives of men?
Such was the story that the Sea-Swan told the pigeons of the rock, and the Boy who knew what the Birds said heard it all, and remembered every word of it.
What The Peacock and the Crow Told Each Other
When the Crow Came to Steal the Peacock's Feathers
Said the Lapwing "Crow,
I never have seen
Such a one as you,
Such a one as you
For stealing eggs."
Said the Crow "Caw, caw,
I never have seen
Such a one myself,
And I am, I am sure
Longer in the world."
Then the Crow flew away and the Lapwing went on complaining.
The Crow flew away and he came to where the Peacock was walking in the King's Garden. He asked the Peacock did he ever listen to stories.
"No," said the Peacock as he mounted the steps of the terrace. "No. Certainly not. I do not demean myself by listening to any of the stories they tell down below there." He spread out his tail, and, that he might view his own magnificence, he turned his blue, shining neck.
Hoodie the grey-headed Crow with the bright sharp eyes hopped after him.
"Jewels! Kings! Magicians! Palaces! Dragons! What do geese, grouse and farmyard fowl know of such things? And yet they presume to tell stories! Tell stories that have nothing in them of Jewels, Kings, Magicians, Palaces, or Dragons!"
"Nothing at all about such things," said Hoodie the Crow, as he plucked a feather out of the Peacock's tail.
"Yet they will not listen to me," said Purpurpurati the Peacock. "They affect even to scorn my voice! They pretend that it is less resonant than the cock in the farmyard and less musical than the bird's that sings at night."
"They'd say anything," said Hoodie the Crow, keeping behind the Peacock's tail.
Purpurpurati the Peacock mounted higher on the terrace. "I shall walk before the statue of the beautiful Queen yonder," he said, "and I shall tell you a story. The reason that I shall tell you is that the Queen always listens to me. But I would have her think that it is to you that I am telling the story."
"I'll listen to you," said Hoodie the Crow and he plucked another feather out of the Peacock's tail.
"When the Queen has been pleased with the sight of my tail, I shall begin," said Purpurpurati, and he spread out his tail. Hoodie the Crow plucked out three feathers.
"How pleased she looks," said he.
"Yes, she is always pleased by my appearance," the Peacock said, and he turned round and walked the other way.
"Did I ever tell you," said Hoodie, hiding the feathers behind a bush. "Did I ever tell you how the Pigeon went to the Crow to learn the art of nest-making?"
"I do not know about such things," said Purpurpurati the Peacock.
"I'll tell you and then you'll know," said Hoodie the Crow.
The Crow is the Master-builder among the Birds and so it was to the Crow that the Pigeon went to learn the art of nest-making. "We begin with the sticks," said the Crow. "I know," said the Pigeon. "First we take one stick and lay it lengthwise." "I know," said the Pigeon. "Then we put a stick across it," said the Crow. "I know," said the Pigeon. "And then we put another stick lower down," said the Crow. "I know," said the Pigeon. "Then we put another stick lengthwise." "I know," said the Pigeon. "Musha," said the Crow, "If you know so much, why do you come here at all? Away with you! Fly home now and build the nest yourself." The Pigeon flew home, but of course he was not able to build his nest, for he knew nothing about the laying of sticks and the bringing of straws, and he was too young and foolish to learn when he got the chance. And that is why the Pigeon to this day cannot build a nest.
"Why do you tell such foolish stories?" said Purpurpurati the Peacock when Hoodie had finished.
"We have no other stories in our family," said Hoodie the Crow. "We don't know about Jewels and Magicians and Palaces and Kings and Dragons."
"The Magician," said Purpurpurati the Peacock, "The Magician lived in a Palace of red marble that was all surrounded by a forest of black, black trees. I lived there too and I ate golden grains out of pails of silver. That was long ago and it was in far India.
"The Magician had precious stones of every kind and he would have me walk beside him to the Cavern where he kept his precious stones, and as he handled them over he would tell me of the virtues that each stone possessed. And one day the Magician looking upon me said 'This Peacock I will slay, for the beauty of his neck makes dull my turquoises and the crest on his head is more shapely than my Persian jewel-work.'"
"Dear me, dear me!" said Hoodie the Crow.
Hearing him say this, said the Peacock "I flew into the branches of a dark, dark tree. And as I rested there the fair lady who walked about the Garden—White-as-a-Pearl she was called and she was the Magician's daughter—walked under the dark, dark trees, and I saw that she was weeping.
"I knew why she wept. She wept for the young man whom her father had imprisoned in a tower. This young man was the son of a King, and the Magician was his father's brother. And if the young man died the Magician would become King in his brother's Kingdom. But the lady White-as-a-Pearl did not want the young man to die.
"A little snow-white dove flew down from the tower and spoke in words to White-as-a-Pearl and asked her what word she had to send to the young man.
"'You must tell him terrible news, my little snow white dove,' said White-as-a-Pearl. 'My father will have him go forth to fight with a dragon. And this is a terrible dragon. Every young man who has gone forth against him has been slain.'
O most beauteous of all the birds, do you know of any arms by which a hero can slay a dragon?
"The little snow white dove flew back to the tower and the Princess White-as-a-Pearl stood under the dark, dark trees and wept again. And when she saw me on my branch she said 'O most beauteous of all the birds, do you know of any arms by which a hero can slay a terrible dragon?'
"Then I came down off my branch and I walked beside the Princess, and as I walked beside her I told her the wonderful secrets I knew."
"And what were the secrets," said Hoodie the Crow plucking a last feather from the peacock's tail. "What were the secrets anyway?"
"Can I tell them to a Crow?" said Purpurpurati the Peacock. "But I will tell them. I told her the secrets I had learnt from the Magician when he spoke of the virtues of his precious stones—a ruby in a man's helmet would make a dragon's eyes go blind. A turquoise on his arm would make a dragon's blood turn to water. A sapphire on his spear would make a dragon's heart burst within him.
"So the Princess White-as-a-Pearl went to her father's cavern and took the precious stones I spoke of and gave them to the King's son. And he went forth the next day and when he came to him the dragon's eyes were blinded, and his blood turned to water and his heart burst within him. And the King's son cut off his head and brought it into the Palace. Then the Magician fled amongst the dark, dark trees and I was given the red marble palace to live in."
"I lived in Lapland," said Hoodie the Crow. "And who do you think I knew there?"
"No one of any dignity," said Purpurpurati the Peacock.
"I knew your White-as-a-Pearl. She had become an old ugly witch-woman."
"Base crow!" said Purpurpurati and he walked up the steps and went away.
Then Hoodie the Crow dressed himself in the feathers he had stolen from the Peacock and went away and walked across the field admiring himself. But a Fox that had promised to bring a Peacock to his Mother-in-law saw Hoodie the Crow and stole up beside him and caught him in his mouth and carried him away. And that was the end of Hoodie who was such a clever crow. "This Peacock is very tough," said the Fox's Mother-in-law as she ate Hoodie. "What would your Ladyship have?" said Rory the Fox. "Peacock is always tough."
The Treasure of King Labraid Lorc
Kingfisher-all-Blue used to sit on the branch that went furthest across the stream with his head bent down and looking as if he were trying to think his head off. Only in the most lonesome places, far from where the hens cackled and the geese gabbled and the cocks crew, would the Boy Who Knew What the Birds Said find him. And when he did find him Kingfisher-all-Blue would not open his beak to say one word—no, not even when the Boy would say "Where did you get your beautiful color?" and "Why is your beak so big, little Kingfisher-all-Blue?"
Now one day when he had left behind him the hens that cackled, the geese that gabbled and the cocks that crew, and had left behind him too the old raven that built in the lone tree he came where Kingfisher-all-Blue sat upon the slenderest branch that went farthest across the stream. And when Kingfisher-all-Blue saw him he lifted up his head and he fixed his eye upon him and he cried out the one word "Follow." Then he went flying down the stream as if he were not a bird at all but a streak of blue fire.
Kingfisher-all-Blue went flying along the stream and the Boy Who Knew What the Birds Said was able to follow him. They went on until the stream they followed came out on the sand of the sea-shore. Then Kingfisher-all-Blue seated himself on a branch that was just above where the grains of sand and the blades of grass mixed with each other and he fixed his eye on a mound of sand and clay. And when the Boy Who Knew What the Birds Said came beside him Kingfisher-all-Blue said the one word "Find."
Then the Boy Who Knew What the Birds Said began to take the sand and clay from the mound. He worked all day at it and Kingfisher-all-Blue sat on the branch above and watched him. And at evening, when all the sand and clay had been taken away by him the Boy Who Knew What the Birds Said came upon a stone that was as big and as round as the wheel of a cart.
And when he had brushed away the grains of sand that was on the round stone he saw a writing. The writing was in Ogham, but at that time even boys could read Ogham. And the Ogham writing said You Have Luck To Have Seen This Side Of The Stone But You Will Have More Luck When You See the Other Side.
When he read that he looked up to where the bird sat, but Kingfisher-all-Blue only said "I am done with you now," and then he flew back along the stream like a streak of blue fire.
The Boy Who Knew What the Birds Said stayed near the stone until the dark was coming on. Then he thought he would go home and in the morning he would speak to Pracaun the Crow and ask her about the stone that Kingfisher-all-Blue had brought him to and what good luck there was at the other side of it.
Pracaun the Crow came to the standing stone in the morning and ate the boiled potato that the Boy Who Knew What the Birds Said brought her, and then the Boy spoke to her about the stone that Kingfisher-all-Blue had brought him to, and he asked what good luck there was at the other side of it.
"Kingfisher-all-Blue has brought you to good luck that none of the rest of us could have shown you," said Pracaun the Crow. "Under that round stone is the treasure of King Labraid Lorc."
"Who was King Labraid Lorc and what was his treasure?" said the Boy Who Knew What the Birds Said.
"I will tell you first about King Labraid Lorc," said Pracaun the Crow. "He was King of this part of the country and of two lovely Islands that are now sunken deep in the sea. Mananaun Mac Lir who is Lord of the Sea was his friend and Labraid Lorc would have been a happy King only for—well, I'll tell you in a while what troubles he had.
"No one knew where the King had come from. He was not born King of this part of the country nor of the lovely Islands that are now deep sunken under the sea. Mananaun who is Lord of the Sea had given him the Islands, or rather he had given him the two keys that had brought the Islands up from the bottom of the sea. Two silver keys they were, O lad. And when they were brought together they struck each other and rang like bells. And "Labraid Lorc is King, King of the two Fair Islands" is what they chimed out. As long as he held the keys the Islands would remain above the water. But if he put the keys away the Islands would sink back into the sea.
"Once in every month the King had a man killed. This is how it was. He would have a man to shave his beard and to trim his hair. This man never came alive out of the King's Castle. As soon as the poor barber left the King's chamber and passed down the hall soldiers would fall upon him and kill him with their swords. Every time when the King's beard was shaved and his hair was trimmed a man was killed—twelve men in a year, a hundred and forty-four men in twelve years!
"Now a warning came to a woman that her son would be called upon to be the next barber to the King. She was a widow and the young man was her only son. She was wild with grief when she thought that he would be killed by the soldiers' swords as soon as he had shaved the King's beard and trimmed the King's hair.
"She went everywhere the King rode. She threw herself before him and asked for the life of her son. And at last the King promised that no harm would befall her son's life if he swore he would tell no person what he saw when he shaved the King's beard and trimmed the King's hair. After that he would be always the King's barber.
"The widow's son came before the King and he swore he would tell no person what he saw when he shaved his beard and trimmed his hair. Then he went into the King's Chamber. And when he came out from it the King's soldiers did not fall upon him and kill him with their swords. The widow's son went home out of the Castle.
"His mother cried over him with joy at seeing him back. The next day he went to work at his trade and his mother watched him and was contented in her mind. But the day after her son only worked by fits and starts, and the day after that he did no work at all but sat over the fire looking into the burning coals.
"And after that the widow's son became sick and lay on his bed and no one could tell what was the matter with him. He became more and more ill and at last his mother thought that he had only escaped the soldiers' swords to come home and die in his house. And when she thought of that she said to herself that she would go see the Druid who lived at the back of the hill and beg him to come to see her son and strive to cure him. The Druid came and he looked into the eyes of the young man and he said 'He has a secret upon his mind, and if he does not tell it he will die.'
"Then his mother told the Druid that he had sworn not to tell any person what he saw when he shaved the King's beard and trimmed the King's hair, and that what he saw was his secret. Said the Druid 'If he wants to live he will have to speak out his secret. But it need not be to any person. Let him go to the meeting of two roads, turn with the sun and tell his secret to the first tree on his right hand. And when he feels he has told his secret your son will get the better of his sickness.'
"When this was told to the young man he got up off his bed and he walked to where two roads met. He turned as the sun turns and he whispered into the branches of the first tree on his right hand. And the secret that he whispered was 'King Labraid Lorc has the ears of a horse.' Then he turned from the tree and he went home. He slept, and in the morning when he woke he was well and he went to his work and he was happy and cheerful.
"But the tree that he whispered his secret to was a willow, and, as you know, out of the branches of the willow the harp is made. As the widow's son went away a Harper seeking wood to make a new harp came that way. He saw the willow and he knew that its branches were just right for the making of his harp. He cut them and he bent them and he formed a harp from them. And when the harp was firmly fixed the Harper came with it to the King's Castle.
"The King gave a feast so that the first music that came from the harp should be honored. He made the Harper sit near his own High Chair. Then, when the feast was at its height he called upon the Harper to stand up and strike the first music from the new harp.
"'The first music from the new harp shall be praise of the King,' said the Harper when he stood up. He drew his fingers across the strings and all listened for the first music that would come. But the harp that was made out of the willow branches that the widow's son had whispered to murmured 'Labraid Lorc has the ears of a horse, Labraid Lorc has the ears of a horse.' The King started up from his High Chair. The Harper threw down the harp. Everyone was silent in the hall. Then one voice was heard saying 'It is true. The King Labraid Lorc has the ears of a horse.'
"The King had the man who said it taken by his soldiers and flung from the top of the Castle. No one else spoke. But the next day when he rode abroad the King heard the people behind the hedges saying 'Labraid Lorc has the ears of a horse.'
"After that, whenever he came near them, people went from him, and at last no one was left in his Castle. And there was no one to take him over to the fair Islands that Mananaun, Lord of the Sea, had given him for a possession. And there was no one to bring over the fruits that grew on the islands nor the cattle and sheep that pastured there.
"Ernan is Lord, is Lord of the Fair Islands."
"Then the King went to Mananaun, Lord of the Sea, and he offered him back the keys Mananaun had given him—the silver keys that struck each other when they were brought together and rang like bells, chiming out 'Labraid Lorc is King, is King of the two Fair Islands.' But no gift that Mananaun gives is ever taken back and the keys were still left with Labraid Lorc. Yet he thought he would let the keys go out of his possession so that the Fair Islands would sink back into the sea. But that they might not stay at the bottom of the sea for ever he took the keys and he put them in a pit at the sea-shore and he covered the pit with a round stone, and knowing that it would be only a lucky person who would come to that stone, he wrote in Ogham writing on it You Have Luck To Have Seen This Side of the Stone But You Will Have More Luck When You See The Other Side.
"As he left the silver keys there the Fair Islands began to sink in the water. So slow were they in sinking that the cattle and sheep that pastured on the islands were taken off in boats and the people who lived in villages on the Islands came away with all they owned. But at last the Islands sank altogether out of sight. And after they went down into the sea King Labraid Lorc was seen no more.
"'And you, O Boy, are the lucky one that the King hid the silver keys for. When you take them into your hands the Islands will begin to rise above the water and when they are altogether risen and are called the Fair Islands again you will be Lord of them. And Kingfisher-all-Blue, the one we thought had no care but for himself, brought you to this good fortune.'"
Day after day the Boy Who Knew What the Birds Said went down to the sea-shore and worked to lift up the round stone that was over the pit in which King Labraid Lorc had put his silver keys. And one day he was able to raise up the stone. There lay the great keys, shining in their silver brightness. He took them up, and when he brought them near each other they struck together and they rang like bells. "Mananaun" was the the name they chimed out. And they chimed again "Ernan is Lord, is Lord of the Fair Islands."
Looking out to sea, the boy Ernan saw waters rising up as though whales were spouting fountains. And the next day, when he came to the sea-shore, he saw that Islands had risen and that they were already covered with green.
No longer he listened to what the Birds said but he watched the Islands every day and he saw trees and grass come upon them. And when the people came and said "Who can be Lord of these Islands?" he held up the silver keys and brought them together so that they struck each other and rang like bells. "Ernan is Lord, Lord of the Fair Islands" was what they chimed out. Each day the Islands grew fairer in the sight of the people, and Ernan was called, not "The Boy Who Knew What the Birds Said," but "Ernan, Lord of the Fair Islands."
Printed in the United States of America.