BALOR OF THE EVIL EYE AND LUI LAVADA HIS GRANDSON.
Long ago there were people in Erin called Firbolgs; and they lived undisturbed many years, till a king called Balor Beiman came from Lochlin with great forces, made war on the Firbolgs, killed their king, and drove themselves out of Erin.
The Firbolgs went to Spain; and there they were looking for means of support, but could find none, unless what they got for work in carrying mortar.
They carried mortar, and lived that way till at long last the Spaniards said, “These people are too many in number; let us drive them out of the country.” So the Spaniards drove out the Firbolgs, and they came back to Erin. In Erin they attacked Balor and his Lochlin men, but were defeated with loss a second time. When they left Erin again, the Firbolgs went to the lands of Gallowna, and there they lived undisturbed and unharmed.
When the Firbolgs were driven out of Erin the second time, Balor Beiman summoned his chief men, and said to them, “I will go back to Lochlin now and live there in quiet. I am too old to fight with new enemies. I will leave my sons here with you to rule in place of myself; and do ye obey them, and be as brave under them as ye were under me.”
With that Balor left Erin, sailed away, and never stopped till he reached home in Lochlin.
At that time there was a smith in Erin named Gaivnin Gow, and he had a cow called Glas Gownach. The smith had a magic halter with which he used to tie the cow every night.
Glas Gownach travelled three provinces of Erin every day, and came home in the evening; the halter had power over her, and she went always to the halter in the evening if left to herself.
The cow gave milk to every one on her journey each day,—no matter how large the vessels were that people brought, or how many, she filled them; there was no lack of milk in Erin while that cow was in it. She was sent to give food and comfort to all, and she gave it, but especially to poor people.
Balor Beiman had his eye on the cow, and, when going back to Lochlin from Erin, he watched his chance and stole the halter. Gaivnin Gow saw the theft, but too late to prevent it. Balor escaped with the halter, and made off to Lochlin.
Gaivnin Gow ran quickly to Glas Gownach, caught her by the tail, and held her that way till evening, when he drove her home carefully, and shut her up in the forge behind the bellows, where he milked her.
Gaivnin Gow stopped work in his forge now, and did nothing but mind the cow. He went out in the morning, followed her through every place, and brought her back in the evening. He held her tail all the day, and never let go his hold of her till he had her fastened behind the bellows.
The people got milk as before from Glas Gownach wherever she went through the country; but the smith got no milk till he had the cow enclosed in the forge.
The widow of the king of the Firbolgs took a new husband in the land of Gallowna, and had seven sons there. When the eldest, Geali Dianvir, had grown up, she said to him, “I will give you ships now, and go you to Erin with warriors and good champions to know can we get satisfaction of those people who hunted us out of our country like hares or foxes.”
The son took the ships, and sailed away with champions and heroes, and never stopped till he sailed into Caola Beag (Killybegs, in Donegal). He landed in that place, left his ships safely fastened, and went forward travelling. He never stopped on his way nor halted till he came to a place called Blan Ri. He halted in that place, for before him were three armies fighting.
When they saw the new forces coming, the armies stopped fighting.
“Why are ye fighting here with three armies?” asked Dianvir; “what is the cause of your struggle?”
The leader of one army said, “We are brothers; our father died not long since; he was king of three provinces, and I think it my right to be king in his place.”
The leader of the second army, the middle brother, said, “I have as much right to be king after my father as he has.”
The third brother said, “I have as much right to be king as either of them.”
Neither of the three was willing to yield his claim, or obey one of the others; but they were all ready to fight while their strength lasted.
“Your trouble can be settled easily,” said Dianvir; “if ye are willing.”
“Settle it, and do us a service,” said the eldest brother.
“I will; but ye must take my judgment and obey it.”
“We will,” said all the brothers. “We will accept your decision, and do what you tell us.”
“Listen, then,” said Dianvir: “you, the eldest, will be king for this year. You, the second, will be king in his place the second year; and you, the youngest brother, will be king the third year. The fourth year, you, the eldest brother, will be king again for a year; and so it will go on, and you and your two brothers will be spending time happily all your lives.”
The three brothers agreed, and were glad. The eldest was king that first year. Dianvir went his way; but he had hardly gone out of their sight when the youngest of the three brothers said, “That man will make trouble for us yet; my advice is to follow him, and put an end to himself and his men before they can harm us.”
“Oh,” said the eldest, “sure ye would not kill the man who gave us good counsel and settled our difficulty?”
“No matter what he did,” said the youngest; “he will give you trouble yet if ye let him go. Follow him, put an end to him, or he will put an end to us.”
They sent men after Dianvir. As Dianvir was a stranger in Erin he had no knowledge of the roads: when a lake was before him he was long going around it; when he came to a deep river he was long finding a ford.
Dianvir’s men were cut off, most of them fell, and he himself fell with others. A small number escaped to the ships, took one of them, and sailed to the land of Gallowna. They told the queen the whole story, told how they had been treated with treachery.
“I will have satisfaction for my son,” said the mother. “I will have it without waiting long.” With that she had ships and boats prepared, and went herself with her other sons, and strong forces, to take vengeance on the brothers. The queen and her forces were six weeks sailing hither and over, driven by strong winds, when one morning a sailor at the topmast cried, “I see land!”
“Is it more or less of it that you see?” asked the queen.
“I see land, the size of a pig’s back,” said the sailor, “and a black back it is.”
They sailed three days and nights longer, and on the fourth morning they were near shore, and landed in Bantry (White Strand). The queen fixed her house at Ardneevy, and prepared for action; but instead of the three brothers it was the sons of Balor she had against her.
War began, and the Lochlin men were getting the upper hand the first days. At some distance from their camp was a well of venom, and into this well they dipped their swords and spears before going to battle, and the man of the enemy who was barely grazed by a weapon dipped in the well was as badly off as the man whose head was taken from him. There was no chance now for the queen’s forces, so she called her sons and said to them, “We’ll be destroyed to the last one unless we find help against this venom. Go to the Old Blind Sage, and ask advice of him.”
The sons went to the sage, and the advice they got was this,—
“There is a well of venom not far from the camp of the Lochlin men. Before going to battle they dip their swords and spears in that water, and the enemy who is touched by those weapons that day is killed as surely as if the head had been swept from him. Ye are to get twenty measures of the milk of Glas Gownach, and pour it into that well in the night-time; the milk will be going down in the well and the poison will be rising and going out till it flows away and is lost altogether. Take, then, a hundred swords and spears to Gaivnin Gow, the smith, to put temper on their points and edges. He will do this if ye follow the cow all day for him and bring her home safely in the evening.”
The queen’s sons did what the sage advised. The venom went from the well when the cow’s milk was poured into it. From that night out the weapons of the Lochlin men were common swords and spears.
When the queen’s sons went with the swords and spears to Gaivnin Gow, he said, “I cannot work for you. I am minding this cow, Glas Gownach, that travels three provinces of Erin every day; I must go with her wherever she goes, bring her home, and put her behind the bellows in the forge every night. If the cow goes from me I am lost, with my wife and children. We have no means of support but her milk.”
“I am as good a man as you,” said the best of the brothers; “I will mind the cow, and bring her back in the evening.”
The smith let the cow go with him at last, and went to work at the swords and spears. The young man followed the cow faithfully, all day, brought her back in the evening, left her outside the forge, and went in himself. The smith had the swords and spears tempered.
“Where is the cow Glas Gownach?” asked Gaivnin Gow.
“Outside at the door.”
“Bad luck to you, she is gone from me now, gone forever!”
They went out. Not a trace of Glas Gownach. She had gone to Balor Beiman in Lochlin, for he had the halter.
There was a great battle on the following day, the queen fell and her sons, except two. Balor’s sons were all killed, and the Lochlin men driven away.
Balor rose up in anger when the news came to Lochlin. “I’ll have satisfaction for my sons,” said he. “I will burn all Erin!”
Besides his two eyes Balor had a third one, an evil eye, in the middle of his forehead, with the power to burn everything in the world that it looked upon. Over this eye he kept seven steel shields, and a lock on each one of them.
“I will destroy Erin, and no man can stop me,” said Balor; “for no man can kill me but the son of my daughter. She has no son, and if she had itself, he could kill me only with the red spear made by Gaivnin Gow, and it cast into my eye the moment I raise the last shield from it, when I am standing on Muin Duv[4] [Black Back] to burn Erin.”
One day the two brothers were talking, and Cian, the youngest son of the queen of the Firbolgs, said to his only living brother, “We have done great harm to Gaivnin Gow. It is by us that the cow went from him, and we should bring her back.”
“That is more than we can do,” said the second brother, “unless we get help from Bark an Tra, the druid.”
The two brothers went to Bark an Tra, and Cian told their story.
“The work is a hard one; I don’t know can you do it,” said the druid; “but you can try; I will help you. The cow is with Balor Beiman, in Lochlin. He stole her halter when he went from Erin; and she followed it the day your brother left her outside the forge. No man can bring the cow with him unless he has the halter, and it is hard to get that.
“Balor Beiman can be killed only by the son of his daughter; he has her behind seven locked doors. No living person sees the daughter but himself. He sees her every day, takes food and drink to her. To bring back the cow you must make the acquaintance of Balor’s daughter. I will give you a cloak of darkness; put it over you, and make your way to Lochlin. When Balor goes to see his daughter, you go with him. He opens one door, goes in and locks it, opens the second, goes in and locks that, and so on. When he is inside in his daughter’s chamber the seven doors are locked behind him.”
Cian put on the cloak of darkness, and no man could see him; he went to Lochlin then, and followed Balor to his daughter’s chamber. He waited till the night when she was sleeping, went then to her bedside, and put his hand on her heavily.
She screamed, saying, “Some one is in the chamber.”
Balor came, very angry and with an evil face, to see who was in it. He searched the chamber through, searched many times, found no one. Failing to find any one, he returned to his own place and went to bed. Cian came again and put a heavier hand on Balor’s daughter. She roared out that some one was in the chamber. Balor came, searched, and looked several times, and went away. The third time the young man put a still heavier hand on the maiden, and she screamed louder. Balor searched this time more carefully, found no man, and said, “Oh, you are a torment; it’s dreaming you are. You are hoping for some one to be in the world to destroy me, but that is what never will be. If I hear another scream here I will take the head off you surely.”
No sooner was Balor gone this time, and the seven doors locked, than the young man came again, and put a heavier hand than ever on the maiden. She did not scream then; she was in dread of her father, but said slowly, “Are you a living man or a ghost?”
“I am so and so,” said Cian, “the best champion in the world, and I have come here to win you.” He talked on till he pleased her, they agreed then. He spent three days in her company. On the fourth day he followed Balor out of the chamber, and away with him back to Erin. He went to Bark an Tra, the druid.
“Were you in Lochlin with Balor?”
“I was.”
“How did you behave?”
“So and so,” said Cian.
“You must be there again at the right time.”
Cian was back in Lochlin at the right time, unseen in his cloak of darkness, and brought away a child with him to Erin. The child was not thriving for three years, hardly lived, and was puny.
“The child is not doing well,” said Cian to the druid.
“The child will do well yet,” answered Bark an Tra. “Take him now to Lochlin as far as Balor; the child will not thrive till his grandfather calls him by name.”
Cian went to Balor. “Well,” said Balor, “who are you and what journey are you on?”
“I am a poor man looking for service.”
“What child is that you have with you?”
“My own child,” said Cian; “my wife is dead.”
“What can you do?” asked Balor.
“I am the best gardener in the world.”
“I have a better gardener than you,” said Balor.
“You have not. What can your gardener do?”
“The tree that he plants on Monday morning has the finest ripe apples in the world on Saturday night.”
“That’s nothing. The tree that I plant in the morning I’ll pluck from it in the evening the finest ripe apples you have ever set eyes on.”
“I do not like to have any child near my castle,” said Balor; “but I will keep you for a time, even with the child, if your wages are not too great for me.”
“I will work a day and a year for the cow.”
Balor agreed to the terms, and took Cian. Balor spoke no word to the child, good or bad, and the boy was not thriving. One day Cian was bringing to Balor a lot of fine apples from one of his trees; he stumbled on the threshold, and the apples fell to the floor. All the people present ran to gather the apples, the child better than others. He worked so nimbly that he picked up two-thirds of all that had fallen, though a whole crowd was picking as well as himself.
“Tog leat Lui Lavada [Take away with you Little Long Hand],” cried Balor.
“Oh, he has the name now,” said Cian.
Cian worked his time out then, and said, “I will take my pay another day.”
“You may take it when you like,” said Balor.
Cian took his son to Erin; the child grew wonderfully after that, and was soon of full strength.
Cian went to the druid.
“The time is near,” said the druid, “when Balor will stand on Muin Duv. He’ll raise his eye-shields; and if the red spear is not put in his eye when the last shield is raised, all Erin will be burned in one flash. Go now and ask Balor Beiman for your wages; say that you want the cow Glas Gownach, for we want her and must have her. He will refuse, dispute, and quarrel, give bad names. You will say that he must pay you, must give the cow or go to judgment. He will go to judgment rather than give the cow; and do you choose his daughter as judge; she will give the cow to you.”
“I will go to judgment,” said Balor, when Cian insisted on getting the cow. “What judgment will you have?”
“My case is a true one,” said Cian. “I ask no judge but the one yourself will take. I ask no judge but your own daughter.”
“Let her be the judge,” said Balor.
Cian put on his cloak of darkness, and, going to the daughter, explained his case to her. Next day Balor went in and told her all the story of the cow Glas Gownach.
“I must have nine days to think the matter over,” said Balor’s daughter.
She got the time, then she asked three days more. On the thirteenth morning Balor went to her and said, “The judgment must be made to-day.”
“Well,” said the daughter, “go out now and stand before the window, you and the gardener, and to whomever the halter comes from me he’ll have the cow.”
When they stood in front of the window, she threw the halter to Cian.
“How could you do that?” cried out Balor.
“Oh, father, they say there is always a crooked cast in a woman’s hand. I threw toward you; but it’s to the gardener the halter went.”
Balor let the cow go. He was very angry, but could not help himself. “You have Glas Gownach; but I’ll have satisfaction in my own time,” cried he, as Cian went away.
“We have troubled you greatly with our work,” said Cian to Gaivnin Gow; “but here is the cow for you, and with her the halter. You can stay at home now and rest; you need follow her no longer.”
Cian went that night to the druid, and said, “I have the cow back in Erin.”
“It is well that you have,” answered the druid. “In five days from this Balor will be here to burn Up Erin. He will stand on Muin Duv at daybreak. He will raise all the shields from his eye; and unless a spear made by Gaivnin Gow is hurled into his eye by his grandson that instant, he will have all Erin in flames. You must bring Gaivnin Gow and the forge with you to Muin Duv, have the spear made, and all things prepared there; and your son must be ready to throw the red spear at the right moment.”
Gaivnin Gow came. They brought the forge, the spear, and all that was needed, put them behind a rock on the side of Muin Duv. On the fifth morning, at daylight, Balor was on the top of Muin Duv; and the instant the last shield reached his upper eyelid Lui Lavada struck him with the spear, and Balor fell dead.