It was midsummer and the day of Bridget’s birth, marking the twenty-first year; and at ring o’ day while the dew still clung to the grass Bridget left her father’s hut and climbed the holy hill. Of all the dwellers on Iona she alone was let watch the lighting of the sacrificial fire and she alone was let hear the chanting of the druid’s hymn to the Sun God. This day she was clad in white with a wreath of the rowan berries on her hair and a girdle of them about her waist; and she looked fair as the flowers of the dawn.
As she climbed the hill the wild creatures came running to her for a caress and the birds hovered above her head or perched on her shoulder. She listened to the chanting of the hymn; she bided till the flames of the fire met and mingled with the shafts of the sun. Then a white bird called from the thicket and she followed. She followed him over the crest of the hill; and behold! when she came out to the other slope, ’twas another country she was seeing!
Here were no longer the green fields and the pastures filled with sheep, or the sea lying beyond. It was a country of sand and hot sun; and the trees and the houses about her were strange. She found herself standing by a well with a strangely fashioned jug in her hand, and her father beside her.
“Bridhe,” said he, “ye are a strange lass. Are ye not knowing that the well has not held a drop of water for a fortnight, and did ye think to fill your pitcher now?”
She smiled faintly.
“I was not remembering.”
Her father drew her away toward the village that lay beneath them, the village of Bethlehem.
“Bridhe,” said he again, “the drouth has been upon us these many months. The wells are empty, even the wine is failing, and the creatures are dying on our hands. I shall leave the inn this night in your care while I take the camels and the water-skins and ride for succor. There is a well, they tell me, in a place they call the Mount of Olives which is never dry; and ’tis a three days’ journey or more there and back.”
“And what is it that I should be doing, with ye away?” asked Bridget.
They had reached the door of the inn by now, and Doughall Donn opened it for her to pass through.