That night the monks wondered much. Only Oran and Keir cursed the fishes in the deeps of the sea and the flies in the deeps of the air.
On the morrow, when the sun was yellow on the brown seaweed, and there was peace on the isle and upon the waters, Colum and the brotherhood went slowly towards the sea.
At the meadows that are close to the sea, the saint stood still. All bowed their heads.
"O winged things of the air," cried Colum, "draw near!"
With that the air was full of the hum of innumerous flies, midges, bees, wasps, moths, and all winged insects. These settled upon the monks, who moved not, but praised God in silence.
"Glory and praise to God," cried Colum, "behold the Sabbath of the children of God that inhabit the deeps of the air! Blessing and peace be upon them."
"Peace! Peace!" cried the monks, with one voice.
"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost!" cried Colum the White, glad because of the glory to God.
"An ainn an Athar, 's an Mhic, 's an Spioraid Naoimh," cried the monks, bowing reverently, and Oran and Keir deepest of all, because they saw the fly that was of Colum's cell leading the whole host, as though it were its captain, and singing to them a marvellous sweet song.
Oran and Keir testified to this thing, and all were full of awe and wonder, and Colum praised God.