KILHUGH AND OLWEN—[Page 22]
Old Celtic
Tales
Retold by
E. M. WILMOT-BUXTON
Author of
"Told by the Northmen" "The Book of
Rustem" "Britain Long Ago" etc.
LONDON: GEORGE G.
HARRAP & COMPANY
3 Portsmouth St. Kingsway WC
NOTE.—The stories in this book have been selected from Miss E. M. Wilmot-Buxton's larger collection known as "Britain Long Ago," in the Told Through the Ages Series.
THE RIVERSIDE PRESS LIMITED, EDINBURGH
UNIFORM WITH THIS BOOK
1. Old Celtic Tales
2. Northland Heroes
3. The Story of Siegfried
4. Tales from the Eddas
5. Tales from Chaucer
6. Tales of Early England
7. Fables and Nursery Tales
8. A Book of Nature Myths
9. The Wonderful Voyages of Gulliver
10. The Adventures of the Caliph Haroun-al-Raschid.
11. The Adventures of Deerslayer
12. Gisli the Outlaw
13. Old Greek Folk Stories
14. The Voyage of the Argonauts
15. Tales from Shakespeare (Book One)
16. Tales from Shakespeare (Book Two)
17. Tales from Dickens
18. Tales from William Morris
19. Tales of Wallace and Bruce
20. Tales from Malory
21. Northland Sagas
22. Heroes of Old Britain
23. Tales from the Kalevala
24. Fairy Tales and Story Poems
25. The Last of the Mohicans
26. Ivanhoe
27. A Hero of Old France
28. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight
Contents
[THE QUEST OF THE SEVEN CHAMPIONS]
The Children of Lir
Lir, a powerful Irish chieftain, had married the eldest of three beautiful maidens, and in course of time they had four fair children—a daughter and three sons. Sad to say, the mother died when they were still very young; and Lir married again. His new wife, who was named Eva, was also very beautiful, but, though no one knew it, she was a very wicked sorceress. She could not bear to see her husband go to fondle and play with his children, and at last she determined to do away with them altogether. So one day she enticed them to a lonely spot among the mountains, near a smooth lake, and, leaving them to play together, she tried to bribe her servants to put them to death. But they would not, and so she returned to them determined to do the deed herself. Now, when she reached the spot, and saw how fair they looked as they ran races about the valley, her heart failed her, and she could not do this wicked thing. But she was determined that they should not return to their father Lir, so she called to her an ancient Druid who lived in a cave near that spot, and persuaded him to use his enchantment to obtain her wish. When the Druid had advised her what to do, she called the little ones to her, and said to them: "Children dear, how warm you are with your running! Come and let me bathe you in Lake Dairbreak, that you may be cool and refreshed."
The children were delighted to do so, and were soon splashing about in the clear water, but no sooner had the water covered them than by the magic spells of Eva and the Druid they were all four changed into swans.
"Birds shall ye be," chanted the Druid from the bank as the change took place, "until, long ages hence, ye hear the voice of a Christian bell."
So the four beautiful milk-white swans swam sadly away over the smooth water; and when the cruel Eva saw what she had done, she feared to face her husband, and repented bitterly of her evil deed. But it was too late. All she could do was to grant to the birds the use of their native speech, their human reason, and the power of singing plaintive fairy music, so sweet that those who heard it should be soothed and calmed, however sad and angry they had been before.
A terrible punishment overtook their wicked persecutor. When the King of that country heard of her cruel deed, he sent for her, and asked: "What shape of all others on the earth, or below the earth, or over the earth, do you most abhor?" She replied: "A demon of the air."
Then the King pronounced judgment on her: "A demon of the air shalt thou be till the end of time."
Meantime hundreds of years passed away, and still the beautiful swans swam up and down their lake and looked for deliverance. Sometimes they took flight, and entered the Western Sea, and sailed around the coast; but all Ireland was in heathen darkness, and never the sound of a Christian bell was heard.
The dwellers of those coast lands used to visit the shore in crowds to hear their sweet music and watch their graceful movements. But after a time they were caught by the strong current of Mull, and this drove the fair birds into the stormy seas between Erin and Alba. Here they endured many a woe; for sometimes they were separated from one another by the storm and darkness, and sometimes they were almost frozen to death in the icy floods. And so, tormented by the restless waves and the chill winds of winter, they waited for three hundred years. But one soft spring morning, when the ice-floes had drifted away and the wind sang gently over the mountains, as they floated along their own Lake Dairbreak, they heard the sound of a Christian bell. For St Patrick had come to Ireland with the glad Gospel news, and everywhere men were building churches, and hastening to fill them with worshippers.
So when the sound of the distant bell floated over the water, the spell was broken, and the Children of Lir returned to their own shapes. But they had lived so long that, after they had learnt the Christian faith, they were glad to lie down and rest for ever. They were all buried in the self-same tomb, and after their death men made songs about them; and every Irish boy and girl to this day loves to hear the story of the Swan-Children of Lir.
From the earliest mythological cycle of Celtic poems. No copy of it is found in writing till the early seventeenth century.
The Quest of the Seven Champions
I. The Seven Champions of Arthur
These stories were told in old days to British boys and girls as they sat round the fireside and heard the wind outside skirling among the wild Welsh hills. But, no doubt, in time they crossed the border, and were told also to English children, such as most of you, who knew and loved the charming tales of Arthur and his knights.
In the days of King Arthur there lived a noble young prince named Kilhugh, to whom it had been foretold that he should never marry until he could win for his wife the maiden Olwen, daughter of Thornogre Thistlehair, the Chief of the Giants. But, though he was full of love towards the very name of the unknown maid, he could not find out where she lived, nor could anyone tell him anything about her.
He was not cast down, however, but set off upon his steed of dappled grey to seek help from his kinsman Arthur. A fine sight he was, indeed, as he rode along on his prancing horse. His bridle was made of golden chains, his saddle-cloth of fine purple, from the corners of which hung four golden apples of great value.
His slung war horn was of ivory, his sword of gold, inlaid with a cross that shone like the lightning of heaven; his stirrups also were of pure gold. Two spears with silver shafts were in his hand, and two beautiful greyhounds, wearing collars set with rubies, sprang before him "like two sea-swallows sporting." So lightly did his charger step that the blades of grass did not bend beneath his tread.
At length he came to Arthur's castle, and having with much difficulty satisfied the Chief of the Porters of the Gate, a sturdy warrior known as the Dusky Hero with the Mighty Grasp, he made his way into Arthur's presence, and told the King his story.
"This one boon I crave of thee, O King," he ended, "that thou wilt obtain for me Olwen, the daughter of Thornogre Thistlehair, Chief of the Giants, to be my bride. I ask it of thee and of all thy valiant knights, for the sake of all the fair ladies who have ever lived in this land."
Then Arthur said: "My Prince, I have never heard of this maiden, nor of her kindred, but messengers shall at once set forth to seek her if thou wilt give them time."
So it was agreed that, this being New Year's Day, they should be given until the last day of the year for their quest.
The messengers of Arthur set forth in haste, each taking a different way. They travelled throughout all the land of Britain, the "Island of the Mighty," and then to foreign lands, asking as they went: "Dost thou know aught of Olwen, the daughter of Thornogre Thistlehair, Chief of the Giants?"
But everyone said "No."
At length came the end of the year, and on the appointed day the messengers appeared in the wide White Hall of Arthur's castle, and all alike declared that they had no news whatever to declare concerning the maiden Olwen.
Then Kilhugh was very angry, and said in hasty words: "I alone am denied by my lord the gift I ask. I will depart from hence at once, and take with me the honour of Arthur, whom men call the most honourable King." But Kai, one of the knights, reproved him for his angry speech, and offered to go forth with him and any others who would accompany them, saying:
"We will not part till we have found the maiden, or till thou art forced to own she is not among those who dwell on this earth."
So Arthur chose six of his knights to go forth with Prince Kilhugh upon his quest.
First came Kai, whose offer had but just been spoken. An excellent spy and sentinel was he, for he could make himself as tall as the tallest tree in the forest, and so scan all the country round. He could hide himself under water, and lie hidden in lake or river for nine days and nights if need be. Such fire was in his nature that when they needed warmth his companions had but to kindle the piled wood at his finger; he could walk through torrents of rain as dry as on a summer's day; he could go for nine days and nights without sleep, and no doctor could heal the wound made by his sword.
Next came Sir Bedivere, close brother-in-arms to Kai, the swiftest runner, save Arthur himself and one other, in all the land. One-handed was he, yet he could give more wounds in battle than any three warriors together.
Then followed Uriel, who understood the speech of all men and all beasts; and Gawain, who was called the "Hawk of May," because he never returned from any undertaking until it had been performed by him.
The fifth to answer Arthur's call was Merlin, a master of magic, who knew how to put a spell upon the knights that would render them invisible.
Last came Peregrine the Guide, who knew how to find the way as well in a strange country as in his own.
"Go forth, O Chieftains," said the King, "and follow the Prince upon this quest; and great shall be the fame of your adventure."
So the Seven Champions rode forth through the great gates of the palace, and set out with high hearts to seek for Olwen, daughter of Thornogre Thistlehair, Chief of the Giants.
II. How the Seven Champions found Olwen
of the White Footprints
Onward and onward rode Kilhugh and the six knights until they came at length to a vast plain, stretching in every direction farther than the eye could reach. Over it they rode, and at length perceived through the misty air the towers and battlements of a great castle far away on the borders of the moorland. They rode towards this castle all day long, but yet they never seemed to get any nearer.
All the next day they went on riding, and still the castle seemed as far away as ever. The third evening brought them no nearer. At length Sir Gawain exclaimed: "This must be Fleeting Castle, which can always be seen from a distance, but can never be actually reached."
Now, on the fourth day, to their surprise, the castle no longer advanced before them as they approached, and soon they were able to draw rein before it, and to wonder in amazement at the thousands of sheep which fed upon the plains surrounding its massive walls. Near by sat the shepherd with his dog, tending this enormous flock. The shepherd was a giant in size, and was dressed in the skins of wild beasts. The dog was larger than a full-grown horse; he had the shaggiest of coats, and, though an excellent sheep-dog, was destructive enough elsewhere, for with his fiery breath he would burn up all the dry bushes and dead trees in that region.
The Champions looked somewhat doubtfully at this great animal, and Kai suggested to Uriel that as he knew all tongues, he had better go and speak to the shepherd.
"Not I," answered Uriel. "I agreed when we set out to go just as far as thou, and no farther."
But Merlin came to them, and explained that he had cast a spell over the dog, so that he could not hurt them. So Kilhugh and Kai and Uriel went together to the shepherd, and asked him very politely who owned that countless flock of sheep, and who lived in yonder castle.
"Where have ye lived not to know that?" cried the shepherd. "Everyone in the world ought to know that this is the Castle of Thornogre Thistlehair, Chief of the Giants."
"And who art thou?" they asked.
"I am Constantine, the brother of Thorn ogre Thistlehair," replied the man, with an angry look. "A fine brother indeed has he been to me! He has taken from me all my lands and possessions, and now I am obliged to earn a living by feeding his sheep."
Then he asked them why they came, and when they replied that they were seeking for Olwen, daughter of Thornogre Thistlehair, he sadly shook his head.
"Alas!" he said, "no one ever tried to find her and returned from this place alive. Go back at once, lest ye all perish also."
"That will we never do!" cried Kilhugh; and the Champions echoed his words.
Then Constantine inquired who Kilhugh was, and when he heard, he cried out that he was his own nephew, and begged that he and his comrades would spend a night at his house, and to this they readily agreed. And as a mark of affection Kilhugh gave his uncle a golden ring; but it was much too small for the giant, who put it forthwith into the finger of one of the gloves which hung from his belt as a sign of his rank as chieftain. Then he signalled to his dog, who immediately began to drive the sheep towards home.
When they reached the house the giant entered first, and gave his wife his gloves to hold. She soon pulled out the ring, and at once began to question him about it; so he told her that their nephew Kilhugh, with six comrades, was even then dismounting at the door. Then the shepherd's wife was glad, and ran forth with hands outstretched to clasp him in her arms; but so big and strong was she that, as Kai quickly saw, no knight could survive her embrace. So as she threw her arms round Kilhugh's neck, he snatched up a log of firewood, and pushed it into her arms instead of the young prince; and when she unloosed it, it was twisted out of all shape. It was somewhat to their relief, therefore, when she took them into the house without further embracing, and set them down to supper. This was a very frugal meal, and served with great simplicity, for Thornogre had not left his brother so much as a silver goblet or a single chair in his barren hall.
When they had supped, the shepherd's wife asked Kai and Uriel to stay behind after the rest had gone out to the courtyard, and, taking them to the chimney-corner, she opened a great stone box. As she lifted the lid, to their amazement a beautiful boy with golden, curly hair rose up from within.
"Pity indeed," exclaimed Uriel, "to keep so handsome a child shut up here. What hath he done?"
Then the lady wept, and answered: "All my three and twenty sons have been killed by Thornogre Thistlehair, Chief of the Giants; and now my only hope of keeping him alive is to hide him in this chest, where he has lived ever since he was born." And she wept to think that her boy would never have a chance of doing valiant deeds and of becoming a great knight. Then Kai bade her be of good cheer and let the lad come with them, promising that he should not be slain unless he, Kai, were killed as well.
She agreed to this very gladly, and asked them why they had come to that region. But when she knew they had come to seek for Olwen, she advised them strongly to go home, since in that very quest all her three and twenty sons had perished.
They laughed at her fears, however, and asked if the maiden ever came to the shepherd's house.
"Yes," said the shepherd's wife; "she comes every Saturday to wash her hair. She leaves behind her all her jewels and rings in the water which she uses, and never asks for them again."
Then they begged her to ask fair Olwen to visit her at once, and she agreed, on condition that they would not carry her off against her will.
To this the Champions agreed, and sat waiting in a hall for the coming of the maiden.
Very fair she looked as she approached, dressed in a robe of flame-coloured silk, and wearing a jewelled collar of gold round her neck.
More yellow was her hair than the flower of the broom, and her skin was whiter than the foam of the wave; and fairer were her hands and fingers than the blossoms of the wood-anemone amidst the spray of the meadow fountain. The eye of the trained hawk, the glance of the falcon were not brighter than hers. Her bosom was more snowy than the breast of the white swan; her cheek was redder than the reddest roses. Whoso beheld her was filled with love of her. Four white trefoils sprang up wherever she trod; therefore was she called Olwen of the White Footprints.
Having entered the house she sat down by Kilhugh, who at once loved her greatly, and began to pray her to come away with him, and be his wife. But Olwen, though she returned his affection, answered that she had promised her father not to go away without his leave. She also told him that Thornogre knew that her bridal day was fated to be the day of his death, so that he would withhold his leave as long as possible. She advised him, however, to go to her father, and to grant him everything he demanded, and so in time he should win her hand; but if he denied the giant's least request, he would lose both her and his own life.
When she had said this, she returned to the castle.
III. The Impossible Tasks set by Thornogre Thistlehair
The Seven Champions now determined to make their way to the castle, and force an entrance to the hall of Thornogre Thistlehair, Chief of the Giants. It was very dark when they set out, but they easily found their way by the trail of white trefoils which the footprints of Olwen had left.
The castle was guarded by nine warders at the gate and nine watch-dogs along the road which led up to it; but a strange silence had fallen upon both men and beasts, and the Champions slew them all without a sound being heard.
Then they passed through the great door, and entered the hall of the castle.
Just opposite the entrance sat Thornogre Thistlehair upon a high, wide throne. He was terrible to look upon. His eyebrows were so long and bushy that they fell over his eyes like a curtain, and he was taller and broader than three other giants put together. Close by his hand lay three poisoned darts.
After they had greeted him courteously, he asked who they were; and they replied that they were come from Arthur's Court to ask that Olwen, his daughter, should marry Kilhugh the Prince. Then the giant roared for his pages to come and prop up his eyebrows, that he might see what sort of son-in-law was proposed for him.
So when they had propped up his eyebrows he looked angrily at Kilhugh, and bade him come the next day for his answer.
But as they went out of the hall, the giant threw one of his poisoned darts at them. Sir Bedivere caught it just in time and threw it back so neatly that it caught the giant in the knee. Then they laughed, and withdrew, leaving him to storm at them, declaring that the great wound hurt him as much as the sting of a gadfly, and that he might never be able to walk quite so well again.
At dawn the next day they returned to the castle, and again demanded the hand of fair Olwen in marriage. But the giant replied: "I can do naught in this matter till I have consulted her four great-grandmothers and her four great-grandfathers. Come again for my answer."
So they turned to leave the hall; but as they went the giant snatched up the second of his poisoned darts, and flung it after them. Merlin caught it deftly, however, and threw it back with such force that it entered his chest, and stuck out through his back. This left him grumbling that never again would he be able to climb a hill without losing breath, and fearing lest he now might sometimes suffer from pains in the chest.
The third time they visited the giant he was on his guard, and shouted to them not to dare throw any more darts on pain of death. Then he roared to his pages to lift up his eyebrows, and when they had done it, he snatched up the third poisoned dart, and flung it at them without more ado.
But Kilhugh caught it this time, and cast it back at him, so that it pierced one of his eyes. Then, while he grumbled that now his sight would not be so good as before, they went out to dine.
These events made the giant treat his visitors on their next arrival with more civility; besides, he had no more poisoned darts. He once more inquired why they had come, and when he realised that Kilhugh was determined to marry Olwen, he made him promise that he would do all that he required of him in return for his agreement to the marriage. Kilhugh, mindful of Olwen's warning that he was to agree to perform whatever her father proposed, gave a ready promise, and bade him ask away.
Then did Thornogre Thistlehair propound to him forty Impossible Things, of which these seven are the chief:
Firstly, he must gather nine bushels of flax sown hundreds of years ago in a field of red earth, of which never a seed had sprouted. Not one grain of the measure must be missing, and they must be sown again in a freshly ploughed field to make flax for Olwen's wedding veil.
Secondly, he must find Mabon, the son of Modron, who was stolen from his mother when three days old, and had not since been heard of.
Thirdly, he must find the Cauldron of Cruseward the Cauldron-Keeper, in which, if one tries to cook food for a coward, one may wait for ever for the water to boil, but if for a brave man the meal is ready directly it is placed therein. In this cauldron must all the food for the wedding feast be prepared.
Fourthly, since the giant must shave for the wedding, he must obtain for a razor the tusk of the Boar-headed Branch-breaker, which to be of any use must be taken from his skull while he yet lived.
Fifthly, since the giant must wash his hair, all matted together as it was, for the wedding, he must bring to him the Charmed Balsam kept by the Jet-Black Sorceress, daughter of the Snow-White Sorceress, from the Source of the Brook of Sorrow, at the edge of the Twilight Land.
Sixthly, that the giant's hair might be smoothed and combed he must bring the scissors and the comb that are found between the ears of Burstingboar, the Wide-Waster, since they alone would perform the operation without breaking.
Seventhly, he must obtain the sword of Garnard the Giant, since that alone would kill the Wide-Waster, from whom, unless he were killed, the comb and scissors could never be obtained.
When he had made an end of speaking, the giant jeered at the Prince, who, unless he could do all these impossible things, might never wed his daughter. But Kilhugh answered with a high heart: "I have knights for my companions, horses and hounds, and Arthur is my kinsman. I shall do all that thou requirest, thou wicked giant, and shall win thy daughter, but thou shalt lose thy life."
IV. Two of the Impossible Tasks are fulfilled
Scarcely had the Seven Champions left the castle of Thornogre Thistlehair when they were joined by the fair-haired son of the shepherd, who had lived all his life in the chest. Eager to make a great name for himself he implored them to let him accompany them, which accordingly they did. Then they turned their faces towards Arthur's castle.
At evening-time they reached the gates of a very great castle, the largest in the world, and as they pulled up their horses before it, an enormous black giant came out of the gate, and looked at them very hard. They greeted him politely, and asked whose castle this was.
"'Tis the castle of Garnard the Giant," he answered.
They looked at each other with glee, for one of the appointed tasks was to obtain the sword of this very giant. Then they asked if he were used to treat strangers courteously.
The black man shook his head. "No stranger ever entered that castle and came out alive," said he; "but ye have little chance of entrance, for no traveller is permitted to enter who knows no handicraft."
The Seven Champions on hearing this rode on to the entrance gate, and called for admittance. The porter refused, however, saying that there was revelry within, and that no man set foot inside who did not bring his craft with him. But Kai declared that he was a burnisher of swords, and that no man could excel him at that trade, whereupon the porter went to report the matter to Garnard the Giant. Now, it so happened that Garnard had long wished for one who could brighten and clean his sword, so he bade the porter to admit him.
So Kai entered alone, and was brought before the giant, who ordered his sword to be brought to him. Then Kai drew out his whetstone, and, first asking if he required it to glitter with a blue or a white lustre, he polished half the blade, and returned it to the giant, saying: "How is that?"
The giant was highly pleased. "If the rest of my sword can be made to look like that," said he, "I shall value it above all my treasures. But how comes it that so clever a craftsman is wandering about alone without a companion?"
"But I have a companion," said Kai—"a cunning craftsman, too, though not at this work. Send, I pray you, and admit him. And the porter shall know him by this sign: the head of his lance shall spring into the air, draw blood from the wind, and return to its place again."
Then the porter opened the gate, and Bedivere marched into the hall, ready for what might befall, and stood watching Kai as he went on polishing the sword. This being done, to gain more time he asked for the sheath, and he fell to mending it and putting in new sides of wood.
Meantime, as he had hoped, while all the porters and followers of the giant stood gaping round him, the young son of the herdsman had managed to climb over the castle wall, and to help his companions over also, whereupon they were able to make their way to hiding-places behind doors and pillars, from which they could see the company in the hall without being seen themselves.
By this time Kai had finished both sword and scabbard, and, stepping up to the giant's great chair, pretended to hand them to him. But, as the giant was off his guard, he lifted the sword, and brought it down on Garnard's neck, so that he cut off his head. Before his followers could lay hands on Kai and Bedivere, the knights rushed out upon them, and slew them all. Then, having loaded themselves with gold and jewels, but above all with the precious sword, they set forth again for Arthur's palace.
This time they reached it in safety, and, having told their story, asked the advice of the King as to which of the six remaining quests they should first undertake. To seek out Mabon, the son of Modron, was Arthur's decision; and for this undertaking he chose Uriel because he could understand the speech of both animals and birds, as well as that of all strange men; and Idwel, because he was Mabon's kinsman, with Kai and Bedivere, because they were known never to turn back from any adventure until it was accomplished.
So these four set out upon their quest.
Now, Mabon had been lost so long ago that not the oldest man on the earth, nor their great-grandfathers before them, had ever heard anything at all about him. But Idwel remembered that many birds and beasts live much longer than the oldest man, so they determined to seek out the oldest of these.
"And who," said they, "could be older than the Ousel of Deepdell? Let us seek her help."
So they made their way through a great forest till they came to a shadowy place, where on a small stone sat the Ousel of Deepdell; and her they implored to tell them if she knew anything of Mabon, son of Modron, who was taken from between his mother and the wall when he was only three days old.
"When I first came here," answered the Ousel gravely, "I was but a fledgling. On this spot where I now sit stood a smith's stone anvil. Since then no hand has touched it, but every evening I have pecked at it with my beak as I smoothed my feathers before sleeping. Now all that remains of it is this little pebble upon which I sit. Yet through all the years that have passed while this change took place I have never heard of Mabon, the son of Modron. But do not despair: I will take you to a race of creatures who were made before me, and them ye shall inquire of again."
Then she took them to a place where, at the foot of an ancient oak, lay the Stag of the Fern Brake. Of him they once more asked the question: "Dost thou know anything of Mabon, son of Modron, parted from his mother when three days old?"
The Stag answered: "When first I came here this great forest was a vast plain, in which grew one little oak sapling. This sapling became in time an oak-tree, and after its long lifetime gradually decayed until it became this stump. Now, an oak-tree is three hundred years in growing, three hundred years in its full strength, and three hundred years in its decay. Yet in all this time I have never heard aught of Mabon, son of Modron. But, since ye are Arthur's knights, I will take you to one who was made before my time." Then he led them to the Owl of Darkdingle.
"When first I came here," said the Owl from his dark cavernous home when he heard their question, "this valley was covered with a vast wood. It decayed away, and another grew up, and after that had withered away, a third, which now ye see. But never have I heard of the man whom ye seek. Yet, since ye are Arthur's knights, I will take ye to the oldest creature in the world—to the Eagle of the Aldergrove."
So thither they went, and when he heard their question the Eagle answered: "When I first arrived, there was a rock in this place so high that I could perch on its top and peck at the stars, and so long have I been here that now it is but a few inches high. Never have I heard of this man save once, and that was when I visited the Lone Lake. There I stuck my claws into a salmon, hoping to kill him for my supper; but he dragged me into deep water, so that I barely escaped with my life. But when I went with all my band to slay him, he sent ambassadors, and made good peace with me, and came and begged me to take fifty fish-spears out of his back. He, if anyone can, will tell you what you want to know, and I will be your guide to him."
So they journeyed on till they reached a great blue lake, hidden in the depths of the forest, and there they found the Salmon of the Lone Lake. He heard their question, and looking at them very wisely, replied: "Such wrong as I have never found elsewhere have I found under the walls of Gloucester Castle, on the River Severn, up which I travel with every tide. And that ye may know it is so, come, two of ye, and travel thither upon my shoulders."
Then Kai and Uriel came down to the water, and stood upon the shoulders of the Salmon of Lane Lake, who swam with them down the Severn, and brought them under the walls of Gloucester Castle.
"Hark!" said the Salmon; and as they listened, a voice was heard from the dungeon wall wailing in deepest sorrow and woe. Then Uriel cried: "Whose voice is this that moans within this gloomy cell?"
"Alas!" wailed the voice, "'tis that of Mabon, the son of Modron, shut up eternally in the prison of Gwyn, son of Nith, King of Faerie. Here I, the Elfin Huntsman, ever young, am shut out eternally from the sight of wood and fell and the joyful chase which is my birthright."
"Canst thou be ransomed with silver and gold?" asked Uriel.
"No," answered Mabon; "if ever I am rescued from this cruel place it must be by battle and strife."
Then Uriel and Kai returned to their companions.
Seeing that this was the kind of adventure that Arthur loved, they journeyed back to the King, and told him all. So he prepared a great army, and marched by land to attack Gloucester Castle. But while he fought before the gates, Kai and Bedivere had sailed down the river on the shoulders of the Salmon of Lone Lake, and, finding the water-side portion of the Castle unprotected, they broke through the wall, and carried off Mabon, the son of Modron, and he returned with them to Arthur's Court.
V. How Prince Kilhugh won his Bride
While Arthur and his knights were discussing which of the Impossible Tasks should next be undertaken, it so happened that a certain prince, named Gwyther, who was also one of Arthur's knights, was walking over a mountain in his own country, the Land of the Dawn.
And as he walked, deep in thought, he heard a sad little cry. Up and down he looked, but nothing could he see that could explain such mournful cry. But presently it came again from under his very feet, and there he saw an ant-hill. Inside the ant-hill the little creatures were wailing piteously, for the heath on the mountain-side was afire, and in a short time their kingdom would be all in a blaze.
Then Prince Gwyther drew his sword, and cut off the ant-hill at a blow, and threw it into a place of safety.
"Our grateful thanks are thine," cried the ants. "Now tell us what we can do for thee in return, Prince Gwyther of the Land of the Dawn."
The Prince pondered a moment, and then replied: "All the world knows that Kilhugh, one of the Companions of Arthur, seeking the hand of the fair Olwen, is required by her father to bring him the nine bushels of flax seed sown in his field to make the wedding veil for his bride. If one grain is missing the marriage will be forbidden; and, though we are Arthur's knights, not one of us can find these tiny seeds. Now, can ye do this task for me?"
"That will we joyfully," cried the ants, and they made their way in haste to the field of Thornogre Thistlehair, Chief of the Giants.
PRINCE GWYTHER AND THE BUSHEL MEASURE
When evening began to fall they returned to the Land of the Dawn, where Prince Gwyther had set up a bushel measure. Up its sides they climbed, each with a seed in its mouth; and nine times they filled the measure, until only one seed was wanting. "'Tis well," they cried; "the lame emmet has not yet come home." And before nightfall the lame emmet toiled up to the bushel measure, and dropped in the last seed.
So the nine bushels of flax seed were taken to the castle of Arthur, and given to Prince Kilhugh.
Then said King Arthur: "Let us now go to Ireland to seek for the Cauldron of Cruseward the Steward of Odgar, the Irish King."
Now, this cauldron, as you will remember, was of such a kind that when food for a coward was cooked in it the food remained as it was at first, but if for a brave man it was ready for eating directly it was placed in the pot. So it was very precious; and when Arthur's request for it was received by Odgar, Cruseward replied in wrath: "Not a glimpse of my cauldron shall he obtain, even if it would give him all the blessings in the world; much less will I give it him altogether."
Then Arthur called together his men of war, and sailed over the stormy seas to Ireland. When the people saw him in battle array, they were afraid, and counselled Odgar to receive him peaceably. So Odgar sent friendly messages, and invited him to a banquet in his palace.
Now when the banquet was over, Odgar was about to give presents to his guests, but Arthur would take nothing. He wanted naught, he said, but the Cauldron of Cruseward. When Cruseward heard this, he thundered out: "Nay, King Arthur, I will never give it to thee. If thou couldst have it for the asking it would have been given at the bidding of King Odgar, not at thine."
When Bedivere heard this rude reply he was very angry, and, rushing upon him, seized the cauldron, and set it on the shoulders of Arthur's Cauldron-Bearer. Then swords were drawn, and the men of Arthur's host fell upon Cruseward and his followers, and slew them. Thus they carried off the cauldron, and bore it, full of Irish gold, back to the Island of the Mighty.
After this adventure they set forth to obtain the Charmed Balsam that was guarded by the Jet-Black Sorceress, daughter of the Snow-White Sorceress, at the Brook of Sorrow, on the edge of the Twilight Land. And when they approached the dismal cavern where she dwelt, King Arthur was joined by Gwyn of the Twilight Land, and Gwyther from the Land of the Dawn, who, knowing the Sorceress and her power, advised that two of his attendants should first be sent into the cave. Directly the first appeared the Sorceress seized him by the hair, and threw him down, and trampled on him. The second dragged her away from him, but could do nothing against her, for she kicked them and beat them and thrust them forth again.
Then Arthur would have gone in himself; but Prince Gywn and Prince Gwyther prevented him, saying it would not be a fitting adventure for so great a king, and persuaded him to send in the two Tall Brothers. But these two were so ill treated by the Sorceress that they came out more dead than alive, and had to be lifted on to their horses. Then, when he saw his followers so ill used, nothing could keep Arthur back. He rushed into the cave, and with one stroke of his dagger, killed the wicked Sorceress, while Kai carried off the Charmed Balsam.
They next set out to hunt the Boar-headed Branch-breaker; but soon they heard that no man could pluck out the tusk from the living head of this terrible animal but Odgar, King of Ireland.
With some difficulty they persuaded him to accompany them; but at length the huntsmen gathered together, with him at their head, and a great hunt for the boar began. The swiftest dogs could not bring the animal to bay, until at length Arthur's own hound, Cavall, brought him to the ground, and Odgar rushed up to pull out the tusk; but he would have been killed, had not Kai been there to strike the Branch-breaker down directly Odgar had plucked it out.
There yet remained to seek out the jewelled scissors and comb that were between the ears of Burstingboar, the Wide-Waster.
Now, this Burstingboar had laid waste a great part of Ireland, so that all men went in terror of him; and, that the heroes might not be misled about the curious things said to lie between his ears, Merlin was sent to Ireland to seek him out and see if it were as the giant had said.
So Merlin tracked Burstingboar to his den on Cold Blast Ridge, and, having changed himself into a bird, flew down into a thicket close by. From thence he could see the creature lying on the ground, with his seven young boars at his side, and between his ears twinkled the jewels of the scissors and the comb. Then Merlin thought it was a sad thing that the heroes should lose their lives for such things, and determined to try to carry them off himself. So he flew upon the head of Burstingboar, and tried to snatch up the razor; but all he really got was a great bristle. Then Burstingboar rose up in a great rage, foaming at the mouth. He could see no one; but a fleck of the poisonous foam fell upon Merlin, and hurt him so that he never quite recovered.
When he heard this news, Arthur gathered together such a number of brave knights and squires that the Irish feared he was about to attack their land, but when he told them he had come to deliver them from the dreaded Burstingboar, their joy knew no bounds. And so it was arranged that those Irish who had joined his host should first attack the boar; then, if he still lived, he should be attacked by Arthur's own knights; and if by that time he were not slain, Arthur should himself hunt him on the third day.
But the first day and the second saw the boar triumphant; and when Arthur took his turn he fought for nine days and nights without even wounding the creature or one of his cubs. At the end of that time all the knights besought Arthur to tell them the secret about the boar, which all this time he had kept.
Then Arthur told them that the creature had once been a king, but for his sins and his great pride had been changed into a boar. And he sent Uriel to confer with him concerning the jewelled comb and scissors. But when Uriel spoke gently to him, bidding him deliver these up at the request of Arthur, the boar grew very fierce, and said: "Not only shall Arthur never even see these jewels, but I with my young ones will go forthwith and harry the land of Arthur, doing all the hurt to it that we can."
When they heard this news all the host arose at dawn to prevent them leaving Ireland; but when they looked towards the sea, there was the boar with his young ones swimming far away to the coast of Britain. And before the King could cross the Irish Sea, the boars had landed at Milford Haven, and destroyed every living thing in the neighbourhood.
Then terror fell on all the land, and eagerly men looked for Arthur to come to their aid, who, when he arrived, set out at once with a crowd of mighty huntsmen to kill the beasts. But it was exceeding hard to find the boar, though his tracks were well marked by the ruin of flocks and men; and when they did come up with him, he slew with his mighty tusks a full half-dozen of Arthur's followers, and dashed off to a mountain-top, where they lost all sign of him: neither man nor dog could tell whither he had disappeared.
At last they heard that the boars were ravaging a valley some miles away. Thither they followed, and after a hard struggle they killed the young boars one by one. But after a long pursuit Burstingboar vanished again, so completely this time that the host returned to Cornwall, thinking he must have left the land.
Scarcely had Arthur entered his palace when a breathless messenger rushed into the hall.
"Arise!" he cried. "The boar is ruining thy domain, trampling down towers and towns, uprooting trees, and killing men and cattle on all sides, and he is now coming over the mountains to do the same in Cornwall."
Then Arthur made this speech to his followers:
"Men of the Island of the Mighty, Burstingboar, the Wide-Waster, has slain many of our bravest men, but he shall never enter Cornwall while I live. You may do as you please; but for me, I will no longer hunt him, but shall meet him face to face."
Forthwith he posted men at various spots to prevent the creature from landing, and then rode up to the river's brink. As he arrived, suddenly, with a great rush, Burstingboar sprang out of the forest, and tried to cross on his way to Cornwall. But Arthur and his companions drove their horses into the water, and followed him, and somehow or other seized him by his fore feet as he scrambled up the bank, and flung him back into the river; and as he fell, Mabon, the son of Modron, caught the razor from behind one of his ears, and Kenneder the Wild snatched the scissors from behind the other.
Yet, even while they did this, Burstingboar upreared himself from the water, dashed up the river-bank, and disappeared. Then all the host followed, but they only came up to him when he had got well into Cornwall. Then a desperate fight began. By harassing him all day they managed to keep him from ravaging the land, and when he tried to get into Devon they were too many for him. Over the moors, down the coombs, up the hills, they chased him, till at length, being desperate, he turned, and made for the sea. In he plunged, but, though the pursuing horses stayed their feet at the water's edge, those two good hounds, Raceapace and Boundoft, who had followed him so long, could not hold themselves back, but plunged in after him into the waves. For long the heroes watched his course, with those two fierce dogs close behind him; but from that day to this nothing more has ever been heard of either Burstingboar or the two hounds.
Now, all the Impossible Tasks had been fulfilled, and joyfully did Prince Kilhugh ride to the giant's castle to claim his bride. But Thornogre Thistlehair looked on in gloomy silence as the marvels were spread out before him; he allowed himself to be shaven and combed; but though he could not refuse to give the Prince his daughter's hand, he openly said that he did it with no good will. Then the herdsman's son stood forth, and cried: "O giant, three and twenty of my brothers thou hast foully slain, and defrauded my father of his heritage. For these things thou shalt surely die by my hand to-day."
So he dragged him by his hair to the castle battlements, and, being very strong, he slew him there, and cut off his head. And the castle was given to the herdsman; but Kilhugh married fair Olwen, and they were happy ever after as long as they both lived.
From the "Mabinogion," A Welsh Romance. Thirteenth century A.D.
The Lady of the Fountain
I. The Tale of Kynon
Kynon was the only son of his father and mother, and a very brave and daring young knight. He thought there was nothing in the world too mighty for him to do; and after he had achieved all the possible adventures in his own country, he equipped himself with horse and armour, and went forth to journey in desert and unknown lands.
One day it chanced that he came to the fairest valley in the world, where all the trees grew to the same height; a river ran through the valley, and a path was by the side of the river. He followed this path till midday, and travelled along the remainder of the valley till evening, and at length came to a large and shining castle, at the foot of which was a rushing torrent. Before the gates stood two youths with yellow, curling locks, wearing golden frontlets upon their heads and garments of yellow satin, with gold clasps on their insteps. Each of them held in his hand an ivory bow, and their arrows were winged with peacock's feathers. Their daggers had blades of gold and hilts of whalebone, and they played with them as they stood, shooting them to and fro. They allowed Kynon to pass into the courtyard, and there he saw a man, in the prime of life, also clad in a robe of yellow satin, and round the top of his yellow mantle was a band of gold lace. He received Kynon with great courtesy, and at once conducted him into the hall of the castle. In the hall sat four and twenty damsels embroidering satin at a window, and they were all so very fair that the eyes of Kynon were almost dazzled at the sight of so much beauty. They rose at his coming, and six of them took his horse, and unbuckled his armour; six more took his weapons, and washed them in a basin till they shone like the sun; another six spread cloths on the table and prepared meat; and the last six took off his soiled cloak and doublet, and put on garments of fine linen and yellow satin, with a broad gold band round the mantle. Then they gave him cushions of red linen on which to sit, and brought bowls of silver full of water wherein to wash, and towels, some of green linen, some of white. Presently, when all was ready, they sat down to eat at a silver table, with cloths of the finest linen, and the meats that were brought were of the most delicious flavour in the world.
KYNON AND THE MAIDENS
At length, when the stranger's hunger was appeased, the Man in Yellow began to inquire who he was, and what was the cause of his journey.
And Kynon told him that he was trying to find out if anyone were his superior, or whether he could gain the mastery over all. The Man in Yellow smiled, saying: "If I did not fear that harm would come to thee I would show thee that thou seekest."
Then Kynon implored him to make trial of him, and at length the man agreed. "Sleep here to-night," said he, "and on the morning arise early, and take the road upward through the valley till you come to the wood by which you came. A little way within the wood you will find a path branching off to the right. Follow this until you come to a large, sheltered glade, with a mound in the centre. On the top of the mound you will see a black man of great size, larger than two men of this world. He has but one foot, and one eye in the middle of his forehead. In his hand he holds a club which no two men could lift. He is exceedingly ill-favoured to look at, and he is the warden of that wood. And round about him you will see grazing a thousand wild animals. Inquire of him the way out of the glade, and he will point out the road which will lead you to that of which you are in quest."
Next morning Kynon arose very early, and rode away. All came to pass as the Man in Yellow had said, except that the black man was of huger size and his club looked far heavier than Kynon had been led to suppose. When Kynon saw the thousand animals browsing around the mound and the black man sitting on the top of it, he asked what power he held over those creatures.
"I will show thee, little man," said he; and, taking up his club, he struck one of the stags a great blow. The stag brayed loudly, and at the sound all the animals came together, as many as the stars in the sky, so that Kynon scarcely found room to stand. Serpents were there, and dragons, and every kind of beast. Then the black man looked at them, and bade them go feed; and they all bowed their heads, and did homage to him ere they departed.
Then Kynon asked the way out of the glade; and when the man knew his reason he said to him: "Take the path that leads towards the head of the glade, and ascend the woody steeps until you reach the summit; there you will find an open space like a large valley, and in the midst of it a tall tree, with branches greener than the greenest pine-trees.
"Beneath this tree is a fountain, and by the fountain a marble slab, and on the slab a silver bowl attached by a silver chain. Take the bowl, and throw a bowlful of water on the slab, and you shall see what will happen. And if you do not find trouble in that adventure you need not seek it during the rest of your life."
So Kynon did as he had said, and found the fountain, and threw a bowlful of water upon the slab. And immediately there came a mighty peal of thunder, so that the earth shook. With the thunder came a shower of hailstones, so heavy that each one pierced to the bone, and Kynon could only endure it by placing his shield over his own and his horse's head. After that the weather became fair; but when he looked at the tree, behold! there was not a single leaf left upon it. Then a flock of birds came, and alighted on the tree, and never was heard such sweet strains as those they sang; and while he was listening to the birds a murmuring voice rose through the valley, like a gust of wind, which said:
"O knight, what has brought you hither? What evil have I done to you that you should act towards me and my possessions as you have this day? Do you not know that the shower to-day has left alive neither beast nor man that was exposed to it?"
Scarcely had the voice died away when there appeared a knight clad in black velvet, riding a coal-black horse, who made a rush at Kynon then and there. And the onset was so furious, and Kynon so little prepared, that he was overthrown. Then the Black Knight passed the shaft of his lance through the bridle-rein of Kynon's horse, and, without a glance at his fallen adversary, rode off the way he had come. There was nothing left for the fallen knight but to make his way back to the castle. The black man jeered aloud at him as he passed through the glade, and, with much anger and mortification, the knight hurried on to the castle of the Man in Yellow. There he was received with the utmost hospitality; and no one alluded to his adventure, nor did he mention it to any. On the next day he found, ready saddled, a dark bay horse, with nostrils as red as scarlet, and, mounted on this, he returned to Arthur's Court.
II. The Tale of Owain
When Kynon had related at Arthur's Court the story of his adventure with the Black Knight, one of his companions, Owain by name, said: "Is it not befitting that one of us go and discover this place?"
"It is very well to talk about it," said Sir Kai, "but 'tis harder to carry it out."
Then Owain went away, and prepared his horse and his armour, and very early next morning he rode away in the direction which Kynon had pointed out to him.
In due time he reached the castle, and was kindly received by the Man in Yellow, and set down before a very excellent meal. And the four and twenty maidens seemed even lovelier to Owain than they had to Kynon.
When they asked him his errand Owain replied that he was in quest of the knight who guards the fountain; and the Yellow Man, though very reluctantly, pointed out the way. All happened to Owain as it had to Kynon, save that the shower seemed more violent and the song of the birds even sweeter than before. And as they sang the Black Knight appeared, and rode violently upon Owain; but he was prepared to receive him, and they fought fiercely together. Their lances broke with the shock of their attack, and, drawing their swords, they fought until Owain struck the knight a blow which pierced through helmet, skull, and brain.
Then the Black Knight, knowing he had received a mortal blow, turned his horse, and fled. But Owain pursued hard after him until they came to a lordly castle. When they reached the gate the Black Knight was allowed to enter; but Owain was so close behind that, when the portcullis fell, it struck his horse behind the saddle, and cut him in two, carrying away the rowels of the spurs which were on Owain's heels. So the rowels and part of the horse were outside and Owain was shut up inside with the other part of the horse between the two gates, for the inner one was closed. As the knight stood wondering what would happen next he saw through an opening in the upper part of the gate a street facing him, with a row of houses on either side; and from one of these houses came out a maiden, with yellow, curling locks, dressed in yellow satin, with shoes of parti-coloured leather. She approached the gate, and desired him to open it. "Truly, lady," said Owain ruefully, "I can no more open it for you than you can for me."
"That is very sad," said the damsel; "yet it is the part of every woman to do what she can to succour you, for you are a loyal squire of dames, so I will do whatever is in my power for you. Take this ring, and put it on your finger, with the stone inside your hand, and close your hand upon the stone. As long as you conceal it, it will conceal you. Presently, when they have consulted together, they will come to fetch you, in order to put you to death, and will be much upset when they cannot find you. But I shall sit on the horse-block yonder, and you will see me though I cannot see you. Come, therefore, and put your hand upon my shoulder, that I may know you are near; and whichever way I go, do you follow me."
So Owain vanished from the sight of men, and sorely grieved were his foes when they came to seek him and found only part of his horse. But he found the maiden, and laid his hand upon her shoulder; and she led him to a splendid chamber, where even the nails were painted in beautiful colours, and there she gave him abundance of food in silver dishes, and left him to rest. Now, on that night the nobleman who owned the castle, whom Owain had so grievously wounded, died; and the maiden of the golden locks presently brought Owain to a window from whence he might see the funeral procession. And foremost among the mourners walked the Countess of that domain. She was so very beautiful that Owain fell deeply in love with her, and said to the maiden: "Verily, there goes the woman I love best in the world."
"Truly," said the maiden, "she too shall love you not a little, and I will go woo for thee."
So the maiden, whose name was Luned, went to the chamber of her mistress the Countess, and found her weeping, because now the Black Knight was slain, there was no one to defend her dominions. For so it was that, so long as the fountain was safe, all was well, but if that were not defended, all her lands would soon be lost.
Then Luned said: "Surely you know that no one can defend the fountain except he be a knight of Arthur's household. Let me go to Arthur's Court, and I will bring back with me a warrior who can guard the fountain as well as, or even better than, he who kept it formerly."
"That will be a hard task," said the Countess. "Go, however, and make good that which thou hast promised."
But Luned did not go to Arthur's Court; she went instead to the chamber of Owain, and, having warned him to wait until it was due time, hid herself as long as it would have taken to travel to the Court.
Then she brought Owain a coat and mantle of yellow satin, on which were bands of broad gold lace; and for his feet shoes of softest leather, fastened by golden clasps in the shape of lions; and thus they proceeded to the chamber of the Countess.
But when they arrived the Countess looked steadfastly upon Owain, and said: "Luned, this knight has not the appearance of a traveller."
"Well, lady, he is none the worse for that," said Luned.
"I am certain," said the Countess, "that this is the man who killed my master, the Black Knight."
"So much the better for you, lady," replied Luned, "for if he had not been stronger than your master, he could not have killed him. There is no use in crying over spilt milk."
Then the Countess looked again on Owain, and when she saw he was a very goodly knight, and courageous withal, she began to return his affection for her; and soon afterwards they were married. So Owain defended the fountain with lance and sword; and whenever a knight came there, he overthrew him, and ransomed him for his full worth, and what he then obtained he divided among his barons and his knights, so that he became very much beloved. And so three years passed away.
III. The further Adventures of Owain
When three long years had gone by, King Arthur began to get very sad because he heard nothing of his good knight Owain. And when the others saw his sadness they suggested that he and the men of his household should go and seek Owain. So they set off; and Kynon was their guide. They spent the night at the castle of the Man in Yellow, and he and his twenty-four damsels waited upon them with the utmost hospitality. In the morning they set off for the wood, and, passing the black man, they came to the fountain. Then Sir Kai begged that he might throw the water on the slab and receive the adventure that first befell. All happened as before, save that several of the attendants were killed by the hail-storm; and as they stood listening to the song of the birds, a knight clad in black satin, riding on a coal-black horse, spurred up to Sir Kai, and in a few minutes Sir Kai was overthrown.
Then the knight rode off, and the host of Arthur encamped as darkness drew on.
The next day Sir Kai met the Black Knight again, and this time was wounded very sorely. Then each of the knights in turn fought, and all were overthrown save one, and he was called Gwalchmai. The fight between him and the Black Knight was very fierce, but at length a heavy blow broke the helmet of Gwalchmai, and showed his face. And, behold, the Black Knight threw down his sword, and embraced him, saying: "Little did I know that you were my cousin Gwalchmai." Then did Gwalchmai know the voice of Owain, and embraced him, and brought him to Arthur, and everyone was glad to see the long-lost knight again.
So all the company proceeded to the castle of the Countess of the Fountain, and there partook of a great banquet, which had been three years preparing; for Owain had always said that Arthur would come to seek him. And when all was over Arthur prepared to depart, but first he sent a message to the Countess, begging her to permit Owain to go and visit him for the space of three months. So Owain departed, though much against the will of his Countess; and when he was once more among his kindred and friends he forgot all about his wife and the People in Yellow, and stayed away three years instead of three months. At the end of these three years, as Owain sat one day at meat in the royal city of Caerleon-on-Usk, there rode through the doorway of the hall a damsel on a bay horse covered with foam, wearing a bridle and saddle of gold; and the damsel was clad in a robe of yellow satin. She came up to Owain, and, taking the ring from off his hand, "Thus," she said, "shall be treated the deceiver, the traitor, the faithless and the disgraced."
Then she turned her horse's head, and rode away.
Then was Owain deeply ashamed and sorrowful; and on the next day he left the Court, and wandered to the distant parts of the country and to waste places and barren mountains. And he stayed there until his clothes were worn out and his body wasted away and his hair grown long. His only companions were the wild beasts with whom he fed, and they grew to love him as their friend; but after a time he became so weak that he could no longer abide with them, so he descended from the mountains into the fairest park in all the world, which was said to belong to a widowed countess.
One day the Countess and her maidens were walking by a lake that was in the middle of the park, when they saw in the pathway the prostrate figure of a man. At first they thought he was dead; but they went near, and touched him, and found there was life in him, though he was very much exhausted. So the Countess returned to the castle, and sent one of her maidens with a flask full of precious balsam to the sick man, together with a horse and a good suit of clothes, and said:
"Go with these, and place them near the man we saw just now. Anoint him with the balsam near his heart, and if there is still life in him he will arise through the strength of the balsam. Then watch what he will do."
The maiden departed, and forthwith poured the whole of the balsam on Owain, and left the horse and the garments close by, and hid herself, and watched what would happen. Presently he began to move his hands, then his arms, and then all at once he rose up, and was ashamed to see how ragged and dirty he looked. Then he perceived the horse, and the garments; so he washed in the lake, and crept to the horse, and with difficulty clothed himself, and clambered on to the saddle. Then came the maiden from her hiding-place, and he was rejoiced to see her, and asked her to whom the park belonged.
"Truly," said she, "a widowed countess owns park and castle, which are all that are left to her of two noble earldoms left to her by her late husband. All the rest has been taken from her by a neighbouring earl because she refused to become his wife."
"That is a pity," said Owain. And the maiden conducted him to the castle, and brought him to a pleasant room, and left him there. Then she went to the Countess, and gave her back the flask. "Ha! damsel," said her mistress, "where is all the balsam?" "Have I not used it all?" said she. "O maiden," said the Countess, "thou hast wasted for me seven-score pounds' worth of ointment on an unknown stranger. However, now that he is here, wait thou upon him until he is quite recovered."
So the maiden tended Owain, and gave him meat and drink and medicine until he was well again. And in three months he was as comely a knight as ever he had been before. One day he heard a great tumult in the castle, and asked the maiden the cause thereof. She told him that the earl whom she had mentioned before had come against the Countess with a large army to force her to marry him. "Has she a horse and arms to spare?" asked Owain. "She has the best in the world," said she.
"Then go and beg the loan of them," said Owain, "that I may go and have a look at this earl." "I will," said the maiden. So she made her request to the Countess; but the lady laughed a bitter laugh, and said: "He may as well have them to-day as my enemy to-morrow; but I know not what he would do with them."
Then they brought out a beautiful black horse, with a beechen saddle, and a suit of armour for man and horse; and Owain armed himself, and rode forth, attended by two pages. When they came in sight of the enemy they could not see where the army ended, it was so great; but Owain asked where the earl himself was, and when he was pointed out, he sent the pages back to the castle, and rode forward till he met the earl. And Owain was now so strong that he drew the earl completely out of the saddle, and turned his horse's head towards the castle, and, although it was no easy task, brought the earl to the gate. When they had entered, he gave the earl as a gift to the Countess, and said to her: "Lo, here is a return to you for your wondrous balsam."
Then the earl restored to the Countess her two earldoms in ransom for his life, and for his freedom he gave her half his own domains and all his jewels and gold and silver.
After this Owain departed from the castle, though all honoured him greatly and begged him to stay with them. But he was still ashamed and sorrowful at heart, and preferred rather to ride forth into desert places again.
One day, as he was journeying through a wood, he heard a great uproar, and, riding forward, found a great craggy mound, on the side of which was a grey rock. In the rock was a cleft, and in the cleft a serpent; and near by stood a black lion, and every time the lion moved to go hence the serpent darted towards him to attack him.
Then Owain unsheathed his sword, and struck the serpent, and cut him in two, and went on his way. But, strange to say, the lion followed him, and played about him like a dog. All that day they travelled together; and at night Owain dismounted, and turned his horse loose in a woody meadow. And he kindled a fire, the lion bringing him wood enough to last for three nights. Then the lion disappeared, and after a while returned bearing a fine, large roebuck, which he laid before Owain; and when it was skinned and roasted, it made an excellent supper for them both. As he was eating, he heard a deep sigh near him, which was repeated three times.
"Who is there?" asked Owain. "A mortal maiden," was the reply. "Who art thou?" he asked again. And the voice replied: "I am Luned, the handmaiden of the Countess of the Fountain. In this stone vault am I imprisoned on account of the knight who came from Arthur's Court and married my Countess. For a short time only he stayed with her, and then went away, and has never returned—and he was the friend I loved most in the world. And one day two of the pages of the Countess's chamber reviled him, and called him ill names, and I told them that they two were not a match for him alone. Then they imprisoned me in this stone cell, and said I should be put to death unless he came himself to deliver me by a certain day—and that is the day after to-morrow. But I have no one to send to seek him for me. And his name is Owain, the son of Urien."
Then Owain said: "Art thou certain that if the knight knew all this, he would come to your rescue?"
"I am most certain of it," said she.
So Owain bade her hope for the best, and meantime bade her tell him if there were any place near, where he could get lodging for the night. She bade him follow the river, so he rode along till he came to a very fine castle. The Earl who ruled over the place received him very hospitably, and good fodder was given to his horse. But the lion went and lay down in the horse's manger, so that none of the men of the castle dared to approach him. Meantime Owain had been brought in to supper; and very soon the lion came, and sat between his knees, and shared his food. Then Owain noticed that everyone in the castle was very sorrowful. The Earl sat on one side of him, and his fair young daughter on the other; and he never saw anyone look as sad as they.
In the middle of supper the Earl began to bid Owain welcome, adding: "Heaven knows it is not thy coming which makes us sorrowful, but we have good cause for care."
"How is that?" asked Owain.
"I have two sons," replied the Earl, "who went yesterday to hunt upon the mountains. But on the mountains lives an evil monster who kills men and devours them, and he has seized my sons; and to-morrow he will bring them here, and will devour them before my eyes, unless I will deliver my sweet daughter into his hands. He has the form of a man, but the strength of a giant, and no one can do aught against him."
"Truly this is a hard case," said Owain. "And what wilt thou do?"
"Heaven knows," said the Earl. "But I can never give up my young daughter to be destroyed by him; yet I cannot bear to lose my two brave sons."
So no more was said, and Owain stayed there that night.
Next morning a great noise was heard as the giant entered the courtyard, dragging behind him the two youths by the hair of their heads. Then Owain put on his armour, and went out to fight the giant, and the lion followed him. The giant made a great rush upon the knight; and the lion fought on Owain's side, more fiercely than his master. At length the giant said: "I could easily settle this business with you were it not for the animal that is with you." So Owain shut the lion up inside the castle walls, and went back to fight the giant as before. But the lion heard that it was going ill with Owain; and he roared very loud, and climbed up till he reached the top of the castle, and then sprang down from the walls, and joined his master. And very soon he gave the giant such a stroke with his paw that the monster fell down dead.
Then the Earl was full of gratitude, and begged Owain to remain with him; but he would only stay one more night, and on the morrow set out for the meadow where Luned was imprisoned in the mound. When he reached the spot, he found a great fire kindled, and two youths with curling auburn hair were leading the maiden forth to cast her in the fire.
"TWO YOUTHS WERE LEADING THE MAIDEN FORTH"
"Why are you treating her thus?" asked Owain.
They told him of the compact that was between them concerning the maiden. "Owain has failed her," said they, "therefore she must be burnt according to our agreement."
"Well," said Owain, "I know him for a good knight, and if he had known of the maiden's peril he would have come to her rescue; but if you will accept me in his stead I will do battle for her."
This was agreed; and the fight began. But the two were together stronger than Owain, and he was hard beset. Then the lion came to his help, and they two were stronger than the young men. So they said to him: "Chieftain, we did not agree to fight with thy lion, but only with thee." Then Owain shut the lion up in the stone vault where the maiden had been imprisoned, and blocked up the entrance with stones, and returned to the fight. But he was weak from loss of blood, and the young men pressed hard upon him; and the lion roared like thunder when he heard that his master was in trouble, and he burst through the wall, and rushed upon the young men, and slew them both.
So Luned was saved, and glad was she when she found it was Owain indeed who had come to her rescue. Together they sought the dominions of the Countess of the Fountain; and she and Owain and the lion and Luned lived all happily together for the rest of their lives.
From the "Mabinogion."
The Story of King Lud
King Lud was King of Britain, and a very mighty warrior. He built for himself a fine castle, and lived in it most part of the year. It was called Caer Lud, and afterwards Caer London, but after the stranger race came to Britain it was just called London. Lud had a brother, Llevelys, whom he loved very dearly; and he married a princess of France, and became king of that land, and ruled it well and happily. Now, after some years three dismal plagues fell upon the island of Britain, such as no other land had ever known. The first was the plague of the Coranians. These Coranians were a certain people who knew every word that was said upon the island, however low it might be spoken, if only the wind met it. And because of this they could not be injured, for they knew all their enemies' plans beforehand.
The second plague was a terrible shriek that came on every May-eve over each hearth in the island of Britain. And the shriek pierced through the hearts of all, so that men lost their valour and strength, and women and children and young men and maidens their senses, and all the animals and trees and earth and waters were left barren.
The third plague was that whatever store of food and provisions might be laid up in the King's court, even if so much as a whole year's supply of meat and drink, none of it could ever be found except what was consumed in the first night.
Then King Lud was very sad at heart, because he knew not how to free his land from the dismal plagues. He called together all the nobles of his kingdom, and asked counsel as to what he should do in the midst of these afflictions. And they all advised him to go to France and seek the advice of Llevelys his brother, king of that land. So they made ready a fleet in secrecy and silence, lest the Coranian race should learn the cause of their journey; and Lud, with some of his chosen followers, set his face towards France. When Llevelys saw his brother's ship approaching, he went out to meet him, and embraced him with much joy. Then King Lud told him the purpose of his errand; and King Llevelys thought a while, and, being very wise, soon discovered the cause of those dismal plagues. But they dared not talk freely about them to each other, lest the wind should catch their words, and the Coranians have knowledge of their discourse. So Llevelys caused a long horn to be made of brass, and through this horn they discoursed. But whatever words they spoke into the horn one to the other neither of them could hear anything but harsh and unfriendly words.
Then Llevelys saw that there was a demon in the horn thwarting all their purposes, and caused wine to be put in to wash it out; and through the virtue of the wine the demon was driven away.
When this was done, Llevelys told his brother through the horn that he would give him some insects, which he must take and bruise in water. And when he returned to his kingdom he must call together all the people, both of his own race and the Coranians, as though with the idea of making peace between them. And when they were all together he must take the charmed water made with the bruised insects, and cast it over all alike. And the water would poison the race of the Coranians, but it would not harm those of his own people.
"The second plague," he said—"that of the weird shriek—is caused by a dragon. Another dragon of a foreign race is fighting with it, and striving to overcome it, and for this reason does your dragon make a fearful outcry once every year. This must you do to rid yourself of this plague: cause the island to be measured in its length and breadth, and in the place where you find the exact central point, cause a pit to be dug; and in the pit you must place a cauldron full of the best mead that can be made, with a covering of satin over the face of the cauldron. Then remain there watching, and presently you will see the dragons fighting a terrific fight. Presently they will take the form of dragons of the air; and lastly, when they are worn out with the fury of their fighting, they will fall upon the covering of the cauldron in the form of two pigs, and they will sink in, and the covering with them, till they reach the bottom of the cauldron; and they will drink up all the mead, and after that they will go to sleep. Then you must immediately fold the covering around them, and shut them up in the strongest vessel in your dominions, and hide them deep in the earth. And so long as they shall bide in that strong vessel no plague shall come from elsewhere upon the island of Britain.
"The third plague," continued Llevelys, "is caused by a mighty magician, who takes your meat and drink and stores of provisions. Through his illusions and charms he causes everyone to sleep. Therefore must you watch your food yourself. And, lest he should overcome you with sleep, have a cauldron of ice-cold water by your side, and if you begin to get drowsy, plunge into the cauldron."
Then Lud thanked his brother for his good counsel, and returned to his own land. And first he summoned a meeting of all the people, both of his own race and that of the Coranians; and he bruised the insects in water, and cast it over the heads of all of them. Immediately it destroyed all the race of the Coranians, but his own people were hurt not at all.
And this was the end of the first dismal plague.
Then he caused the land to be measured in its length and its breadth; and he found the central point in Oxford, and in that place he caused the pit to be dug and the cauldron of mead to be placed, with a covering of satin over the face of it. There he presently beheld the dragons fighting; and when they were weary, they fell into the mead under the shape of pigs, and when they had drunk up all the mead, they slept. And Lud folded the covering round them, and hid them in the strongest place he had on Snowdon. And so the fierce shriek ceased to be heard in his dominions; and this was the end of the second dismal plague.
When this was all ended, King Lud caused a very great banquet to be prepared in the Court. And when it was ready, he placed a cauldron of ice-cold water by his side, and sat down to watch over the banquet. And about the third watch of the night he heard sweet music and gentle songs, which lulled him to sleep. But when he found himself getting very drowsy, he went often into the ice-cold water. At length a man of great size, clad in strong, heavy armour, came in, bearing a hamper; and into this hamper he began to put all the food and provisions of meat and drink, and proceeded to go forth with it. And King Lud was so stupefied with astonishment that one hamper could possibly hold so much, that he had almost let him go. At last, however, he recovered his senses, and rushed after him, and cried: "Stay, stay. Though thou hast done me many insults and stolen much spoil ere now, yet shalt thou do so no more, unless thy skill in arms be better than mine." The magician instantly put down the hamper, and rushed upon him; and they fought so desperately that fire flew from their arms. At length the victory was to Lud, and he threw the plague to the earth. Then the magician besought him for his life, and promised to serve him as his vassal, and put all his power in the hands of the King, if he would release him; and to this King Lud agreed.
And this was the end of the third dismal plague. From that time forth King Lud reigned in peace and happiness in the island of Britain.
From the "Mabinogion."
The Tale of Taliesin
Tegid Voel and Caridwen his wife lived on an island in the midst of Lake Tegid. (Nowadays the lake is called Bala, and there is no island to be seen.) They had an elder son, a fair and comely youth, and a very beautiful daughter; but their youngest son was uglier than anyone in the whole world. This troubled his mother Caridwen at first; but she said to herself: "If he cannot be handsome, he shall, at anyrate, be very learned." Now, Caridwen was a witch, so she set to work to boil a Cauldron of Knowledge, of which the boiling must not cease for a year and a day. At the end of that time it would yield three drops of precious liquid, which would make whoever drank it wise for the rest of his life. She set Gwion Bach, who was passing by, to stir the cauldron, and a blind man named Morda to keep up the fire underneath; but, fearing that Gwion Bach had seen what she put into the cauldron, and would tell her secrets to others, she made up her mind to kill him directly he had done his work for her.
Now, one day, as the end of the year drew nigh, while Caridwen was in the fields gathering herbs, it chanced that the three magic drops flew out of the cauldron, and fell on the finger of Gwion Bach. They scalded his hand so that he promptly put it to his mouth, and sucked his fingers; and immediately he became very wise, and knew all that Caridwen meant to do to him, and his need of guarding against her wily plots! He fled from the house, therefore, and ran towards his own land; and the cauldron, left unstirred, burst in two, and the poisonous liquid ran out of the door, and into a stream where the horses of Gwyddno were drinking; and when they had drunk of the poisoned water they all died.
When Caridwen returned, and saw the year's work was lost, she took up a billet of wood, and began to beat the blind man Morda. But he answered: "You do wrong to beat me; the loss was not because of me."
"You speak truly," said Caridwen. "It was Gwion Bach who robbed me." And she set to running after him as fast as she could. He soon looked back, and saw her, and changed himself into a hare; for the magic liquid had given him many different kinds of skill. But as he fled, she changed herself into a greyhound, and had nearly caught him up when he ran towards a river and changed himself into a fish. Then she became an otter, and chased him till in his weariness he took the form of a bird. But she at once changed herself into a hawk, and gave him no rest in the sky.
Just as he was in fear of death, he saw a heap of grains of wheat on the floor of a barn; so he dropped among them, and became one of the grains. Then Caridwen changed herself into a high-crested black hen, and scratched among the grains till she found him. She was just about to swallow him, when, with his last remaining effort of skill, he became a very beautiful little child, and when she looked at him she had not the heart to kill him on the spot. So she took her own form again, and, having put the child into a leathern bag, she cast him into the sea just below the weir of Gwyddno, which is not far from Aberystwith, on the 29th of April. Then Caridwen returned home again, and thought no more of the matter.
Now, it had been the custom on every May-day eve to go fishing in that weir, and every year fish were taken to the value of a hundred pounds. Its owner, Gwyddno, had an only son named Elphin, the most unlucky of youths, who was always needing and never getting. This year his father, pitying his ill fortune, granted to him all the weir should contain on May-day, in order to give him something wherewith to begin the world. So the nets were set to catch the fish below the weir, and next day Elphin hurried to see how many they had caught. But the nets were quite empty, and nothing was to be found but a leathern bag which had caught in one of the poles of the weir. Then said one of his companions: "Men were unfortunate before, but never so much as now, when your luck has turned away the fish from a weir that has been worth a hundred pounds every May-eve till now, when there is nothing but a skin in it."
"Perhaps," said Elphin, "the bag may have something in it which is worth a hundred pounds." So his friend hooked up the bag, and opened it, and there peeped out the bright face of a little lad. "See, what a bright face within the bag!" cried his companion. And Elphin said: "Let him be called Taliesin, then" (which means "bright or shining face"), and lifted the child gently on to his horse, and made it walk softly, and went homeward with a very heavy heart.
THE FINDING OF TALIESIN
But as he rode along, the boy behind him sang to him a song of consolation so sweetly that Elphin was much amazed, and asked how he had learnt so beautiful a song. The child replied that, though he was very little, he was notwithstanding very wise.
Then Elphin asked if he were a mortal child or a spirit; upon which the boy sang another song, telling what he had been, and how he had fled from Caridwen, and how he came to be entangled in the weir.
When Elphin reached the house of his father, the latter asked him if his haul were good.
"Father," he answered, "I have caught a poet-minstrel."
"Alas! what good will that do thee?" said Gwyddno.
And Taliesin answered for himself: "He will do him more good than the weir ever did for thee."
Then Gwyddno looked at him, and said: "Art thou able to speak when thou art so little?" And the child replied: "I am better able to speak than thou to question." "What canst thou say?" asked Gwyddno. Upon which Taliesin sang a song of such wondrous beauty, that everyone hastened to the spot to hear the marvellous child.
Soon afterwards Elphin, with his usual ill luck, managed to offend the powerful King Maelgwn, who cast him into a dungeon barred by thirteen locked doors. But when father Gwyddno was lamenting his son's ill fate, the child Taliesin bade him be of good cheer, since he was going to rescue him. Setting off at daybreak he reached the King's palace at the time of the evening meal, and entered the hall just as the bards were beginning to sing the praises of the King, as was their custom every evening. Then Taliesin cast a spell upon these bards, so that instead of singing they could only pout out their lips and make mouths at the King. He forced them also, by his magic power, to tap their fingers on their mouths, as they tried in vain to sing, making a curious sound like "Bler-m! Bler-m!"
The King, naturally, thought they were treating him with great disrespect, and ordered one of his squires to give a blow to the chief bard; and the squire took a broom, and struck him on the head, so that he fell back on his seat. This rough treatment seemed to bring him to his senses, and he then explained that they could not help themselves, but had been put under a spell by a spirit, who was sitting in a corner of the hall under the form of a child. So the King ordered the squire to fetch the child; and Taliesin, nothing loth, was brought up to the head of the table. Being asked who he was and whence he came, he at once proceeded to sing another wonderful song, in which he informed them that he was the chief bard of Elphin, that his native country was the land of Cherubim, but that at present he was dwelling upon this earth, and might even stay here until the Judgment Day.
The King and his nobles marvelled greatly, for they had never heard the like from a boy so young as he. But as he was the bard of Elphin, who had offended His Majesty, the King determined that his own bards should get the better of him in song. So he ordered the chief bard to stand forth, and then all the four and twenty of them, to strive with Taliesin. But when they came forward to do his bidding they could do no other than play "Bler-m! Bler-m!" on their lips.
Then the King, angry and disappointed, asked the boy Taliesin his errand.
And the child replied in song: "I am come to deliver Elphin, who is imprisoned in this castle, behind thirteen locks."
"I will never let him go," said the King.
Then Taliesin foretold that there should come up from the sea-marshes a wonderful golden worm, which would take revenge upon the King for his cruelty; but, finding his threat had no effect, he turned, and left the hall. Outside the castle he sang a charm to the wind, bidding it blow open the prison of Elphin; and while he thus sang, near the door, there suddenly uprose such a storm of wind that the King and his nobles crouched in terror, expecting that the castle would fall upon their heads. Directly he realised that this was the work of the mysterious child-bard he sent for Elphin from the prison, and implored Taliesin to stay the wind-storm, which he accordingly did. So Elphin was brought into the hall, loaded with chains; at sight of which Taliesin sang another charm song, and the chains immediately fell off his hands and feet. By this time the King was so full of admiration for the skill and wisdom of the boy that he begged him to take the spell off his own bards, and to test them with questions.