During the month of July, 1914, I was camping out on the Dublin mountains. The annual convention of Na Fianna Eireann (Irish National Boy Scouts) had just been held, and I was a delegate to it from the Belfast Girls' Branch, of which I was the president. On the Sunday following the convention we were still camping out; but were suffering all the discomforts of blowy, rainy, stormy weather. Madame (the Countess de Markievicz) had a cottage beside the field where we were encamped, and it was thronged with us all that Sunday. Nothing would tempt us out in the field that night, and we kept putting off the retiring time, hour by hour, till it was nearly twelve o'clock. At that time we had just taken our courage in both hands, and were forcing ourselves to go out to our tents. We were standing near the door with our bedding in our arms when some of the Fianna boys halloed from outside. We gladly opened the door—another excuse for putting off the evil moment—and about half a dozen boys came in to the cottage. They were in great spirits, although they had tramped some miles in the rain, and exhibited strange looking clubs to our curious eyes.
"Guess what we've been doing to-day, Madame," they said, but with an expression on their faces which said, "you'll never guess."
"It's too much trouble to guess," said Madame. "Tell us what it was and we will know all the quicker."
"We've been helping to run in three thousand rifles."
"Rifles—where—quick—tell me all about it. Quick."
"At Howth. But did you hear nothing about it?"
"Nothing. Tell me quick."
"Did you not hear that we had a brush with the soldiers; and that some were shot and some were killed?"
"No—no. Begin at the beginning and tell us the whole story."
"Well, during the week we were told to report at a certain place to-day—that there was important work to be done. This morning we met as we were told, and we were shown these clubs. They were to be all the arms we were to have. We started out to march with the Volunteers to Howth. We knew, somehow or other, that we were going to get rifles but none of us knew for a fact how we were going to get them. As we marched we made all sorts of guesses as to how the rifles were coming. Of course, we did not carry the clubs in our hands; we brought them with us in the trek cart. But for a few others we were the only ones who knew what was in the cart. And do you know, Madame," he said with a veteran's pride, "we marched better than the Volunteers."