“Samhain,” muttered the old woman, “Samhain.”
“What is the meaning of Samhain?” asked the princess, but the crone had fallen silent again, and nothing more was to be got out of her. Then the princess went and stood in the doorway, watching for the return of the shepherd and his wife, for it was growing late, and as she stood there the nightwind hurried past her.
“O wind,” said the princess, “you are the greatest of all travellers, therefore if you know it, tell a forlorn king’s daughter what is meant by Samhain.”
“Samhain is the feast of All Fairies,” said the wind.
“And when do they keep it?” asked the princess.
“On All Hallows’ E’en,” the wind made answer.
“And where do they keep it?” asked the princess.
“In the brown bog country,” said the wind, “where you may see a myriad pools, and each pool bathes one star.” And when he had said that he sped away, for the wind is ever in haste.
Therefore as soon as the shepherd and his wife returned, the princess told them that she could remain with them no longer, but must set out upon her quest, and though they were loath to part with her, the good people let her go. So the next morning she bade them farewell, and as she went along the road that led to the mountain tarn, the beautiful black horse came trotting to meet her.
“It may be that I shall have far to go,” said the princess, “and that this gallant horse will consent to carry me.” So she mounted upon its back and rode onwards, but when they reached the tarn the black horse plunged straightway into the ice-cold water, and began to swim across, and as soon as it gained the centre of the lake, it dived under. Then the princess cried out and struggled, and the black horse threw her, and in that moment she knew that it was no real horse at all, but a kelpie, a wicked water-sprite that assumes at times the form of a horse.