THE WELL OF D’YERREE-IN-DOWAN.
A long time ago—before St. Patrick’s time—there was an old king in Connacht, and he had three sons. The king had a sore foot for many years, and he could get no cure. One day he sent for the Dall Glic (wise blind man) which he had, and said to him:
“I’m giving you wages this twenty years, and you can’t tell me what will cure my foot.”
“You never asked me that question before,” said the Dall Glic; “but I tell you now that there is nothing in the world to cure you but a bottle of water from the Well of D’yerree-in-Dowan” (i.e., end of the world).
In the morning, the day on the morrow, the king called his three sons, and he said to them:
“My foot will never be better until I get a bottle of water from the Well of D’yerree-in-Dowan, and whichever of you will bring me that, he has my kingdom to get.”
“We will go in pursuit of it to-morrow,” says the three. The names of the three were Art, Nart (i.e., strength), and Cart[30] (i.e., right).
On the morning of the day on the morrow, the king gave to each one of them a purse of gold, and they went on their way. When they came as far as the cross-roads, Art said:
“Each one of us ought to go a road for himself, and if one of us is back before a year and a day, let him wait till the other two come; or else let him set up a stone as a sign that he has come back safe.”
They parted from one another after that, and Art and Nart went to an inn and began drinking; but Cart went on by himself. He walked all that day without knowing where he was going. As the darkness of the night came on he was entering a great wood, and he was going forwards in the wood, until he came to a large house. He went in and looked round him, but he saw nobody, except a large white cat sitting beside the fire. When the cat saw him she rose up and went into another room. He was tired and sat beside the fire. It was not long till the door of the chamber opened, and there came out an old hag.