This cashel was on a height, and near it I was shown some old fields, the ridges farther apart than those of the present day, and I was told they might be the fields of those who built the cashel, or perhaps of the Firbolgs. The old man who acted as my guide softened the b in the Irish manner, and spoke of those people as the Firwolgs; he said they were short and stout, and cultivated the lands near the sea.
To the Danes are ascribed the kitchen-middens on Rosguill, and the lad I met above Gortnalughoge Bay, told me they lived and had their houses on the water, I should infer after the fashion of the lake-dwellers. He could not tell me the height of these Danes, but those who built the forts and cashels have often been described to me as short and red-haired. As I have stated on former occasions, I should be inclined to identify these short Danes with the Tuatha de Danann. I visited one of their cashels above Dungiven, under which there is a souterrain, and I also went to one on a hill above Downey's pier at Rosapenna. I believe it is the Downey's Fort marked on the Ordnance Survey map. It appeared to be regarded as an uncanny spot; treasure is said to be hidden under it, and I had a difficulty in getting anyone to take me to it. A little girl, however, acted as guide, and a young farmer, who had at first refused, joined me on the top. I took some very rough measurements of this cashel. From the outer circumference it was about 60 by 60 feet; the walls had fallen inwards, so it was impossible to say how thick they had been originally, but the space free from stones in the centre measured about 25 by 25 feet.
The young farmer told me of some rocks at a place he called Dooey, on which crosses were inscribed. I believe that near Mevagh, in addition to the spiral markings, which were visited by many members of the Conference, there is another rock on which crosses are also inscribed.
Firbolgs, Danes, Finns, and Pechts, of whom I have spoken on former occasions, are all strictly human; and if the fairy has been more spiritualized, I think, in many of the traditions, we may see how closely he is allied to ancient and modern pygmies.
Fairies intermarry freely with the human race; they are not exempt from death, and sometimes come to a violent end. At Kincasslagh a graphic story was told me by an old woman of how two banshees attacked a man when he was crossing the "banks" at Mullaghderg. His faithful dog had been chained at home, but, knowing the danger, escaped, saved his master, and killed one of the banshees. Her body was found next morning in the sand: she had wonderful eyes, small legs, and very large feet. I may mention that large feet are characteristic of the Pechts.
It is true that those who are drowned may become fairies, but if a fisherman be missing, who shall say whether he lies at the bottom of the ocean or has been carried captive to a lonely cave. In later times, when the fairies were associated with fallen angels, one who had not received the last rites of the Church might naturally be supposed to become a fairy.
In the tales of the giants we are brought face to face with beings of great strength, but in a low stage of civilization. Balor, we have seen, had no smith on Tory Island, and in a story of the fight between the giant Fargowan and a wild boar, his sister Finglas goes to his assistance with her apron filled with stones. Misled by the echo, she jumps backwards and forwards across Lough Finn until at last her long hair becomes entangled and she is drowned. It is believed that her coffin was found when the railway was being made; the boards were 14 feet long. Sometimes the works of Nature are ascribed to the giants; we have all heard of Finn McCoul as the artificer of the Giant's Causeway, and near Glenties I was shown perched blocks, which had been thrown by the giants. On the other hand, these giants, with all their magic, are often very human; perhaps we are listening to the tales of a small race, who exaggerated the feats of their large but savage neighbours. Writing in 1860, J. F. Campbell, in his introduction to the "Tales of the West Highlands," says: "Probably, as it seems to me, giants are simply the nearest savage race at war with the race who tell the tales. If they performed impossible feats of strength, they did no more than Rob Roy, whose putting-stone is now shown to Saxon tourists ... in the shape of a boulder of many tons."[79] Turning to fairies, the same writer says: "I believe there was once a small race of people in these islands, who are remembered as fairies.... They are always represented as living in green mounds. They pop up their heads when disturbed by people treading on their houses. They steal children. They seem to live on familiar terms with the people about them when they treat them well, to punish them when they ill-treat them.... There are such people now. A Lapp is such a man; he is a little flesh-eating mortal, having control over the beasts, and living in a green mound, when he is not living in a tent or sleeping out of doors, wrapped in his deerskin shirt."[80]
Since these words were written, our knowledge of dwarf races has been greatly increased; their skeletons have been found in Switzerland and other parts of Europe. We are all familiar with the pygmies of Central Africa, and the members of this Club will remember the interesting photographs of them shown by Sir Harry Johnston. Besides the Andamnan Islanders, we have dwarf races in various parts of Asia, and doubtless we have all read with interest the account of the New Guinea dwarfs, sent by the members of the British Expedition, who are investigating that Island under many difficulties.
Dr. Eric Marshall describes these pygmies as "averaging four feet six inches to four feet eight inches in height, wild, shy, treacherous little devils; these little men wander over the heavy jungle-clad hills, subsisting on roots and jungle produce, hunting the wallaby, pig, and cassowary, and fishing in the mountain torrents.... The only metal tool they possessed was a small, wedge-shaped piece of iron, one inch by two inches, inserted into a wooden handle, and answering the purpose of an axe, and with this the whole twenty-acre clearing had been made. None but those who have worked and toiled in this dense jungle can really appreciate the perseverance and patience necessary to accomplish this, for many of the trees are from twelve to fifteen feet in circumference."[81]
Throughout Donegal we find many traces of the primitive belief that men or women can change themselves into animals. At Rosapenna I was told of a hare standing on its hind-legs like an old woman and sucking a cow, the inference being plainly that the witch had transformed herself into a hare. I heard similar stories at Glenties. Here I was told of a man who killed a young seal, but was startled when the mother, weeping, cried out in Irish: "My child, my child!" Never again did he kill a seal.