The King of Ireland's Son, Illustrated Edition (Yesterday's Classics)

by Padraic Colum

  They ate salmon again and rested for a day. They bade good-by to the Glashan, who went back to the river to hunt for salmon. Then they went along the bank of the river hand in hand while the King of Ireland's Son told Fedelma of all the things that had happened to him in his search for her.

  They came to where the river became known as the River of the Morning Star. And then, in the distance, they saw the Hill of Horns. Towards the Hill of Horns they went, and, at the near side of it, they found a house thatched with the wing of a bird. It was the house of the Little Sage of the Mountain. To the house of the Little Sage of the Mountain Fedelma and the King's Son now went.

  The House of Crom Duv

  I

  THE story is now about Flann. He went through the East gate of the Town of the Red Castle and his journey was to the house of the Hags of the Long Teeth where he might learn what Queen and King were his mother and his father. It is with the youth Flann, once called the Gilly of the Goatskin, that we will go if it be pleasing to you, Son of my Heart. He went his way in the evening, when, as the bard said:—

  The blackbird shakes his metal notes

  Against the edge of day,

  And I am left upon my road

  With one star on my way.

  And he went his way in the night, when, as the same bard said:—

  The night has told it to the hills,

  And told the partridge in the nest,

  And left it on the long white roads,

  She will give light instead of rest.

  And he went on between the dusk and the dawn, when, as the same bard said again:—

  Behold the sky is covered,

  As with a mighty shroud:

  A forlorn light is lying

  Between the earth and cloud.

  And he went on in the dawn, when as the bard said (and this is the last stanza he made, for the King said there was nothing at all in his adventure):—

  In the silence of the morning

  Myself, myself went by,

  Where lonely trees sway branches

  Against spaces of the sky.

  And then, when the sun was looking over the first high hills he came to a river. He knew it was the river he followed before, for no other river in the country was so wide or held so much water. As he had gone with the flow of the river then he thought he would go against the flow of the river now, and so he might come back to the glens and ridges and deep boggy places he had traveled from.

  HE met a Fisherman who was drying his nets and he asked him what name the river had. The Fisherman said it had two names. The people on the right bank called it the Daybreak River and the people on the left bank called it the River of the Morning Star. And the Fisherman told him he was to be careful not to call it the River of the Morning Star when he was on the right bank nor the Daybreak River when he was on the left, as the people on either side wanted to keep to the name their fathers had for it and were ill-mannered to the stranger who gave it a different name. The Fisherman told Flann he was sorry he had told him the two names for the River and that the best thing he could do was to forget one of the names and call it just the River of the Morning Star as he was on the left bank.

  Flann went on with the day widening before him and when the height of the noon was past he came to the glens and ridges and deep boggy places he had traveled from. He went on with the bright day going before him and the brown night coming behind him, and at dusk he came to the black and burnt place where the Hags of the Long Teeth had their house of stone.

  He saw the house with a puff of smoke coming through every crevice in the stones. He went to the shut door and knocked on it with the knocking-stone.

  "Who's without?" said one of the Hags.

  "Who's within?" said Flann.

  "The Three Hags of the Long Teeth," said one of the Hags, "and if you want to know it," said she, "they are the runners and summoners, the brewers and candle-makers for Crom Duv, the Giant."

  Flann struck a heavier blow with the knocking-stone and the door broke in. He stepped into the smoke-filled house.

  "No welcome to you, whoever you are," said one of the three Hags who were seated around the fire.

  "I am the lad who was called Gilly of the Goatskin, and whom you reared up here," said he, "and I have come back to you."

  The three Hags turned from the fire then and screamed at him.

  "And what brought you back to us, humpy fellow?" said the first Hag.

  "I came back to make you tell me what Queen and King were my mother and father."

  "Why should you think a King and Queen were your father and mother?" they said to him.

  "Because I have on my breast the stars of a son of a King," said Flann, "and," said he, "I have in my hand a sword that will make you tell me."

  He came towards them and they were afraid. Then the first Hag bent her knee to him, and, said she, "Loosen the hearthstone with your sword and you will find a token that will let you know who your father was."

  Flann put his sword under the hearthstone and pried it up. But if it were a token, what was under the hearthstone was an evil thing—a cockatrice. It had been hatched out of a serpent's egg by a black cock of nine years. It had the head and crest of a cock and the body of a black serpent. The cockatrice lifted itself up on its tail and looked at him with red eyes. The sight of that head made Flann dizzy and he fell down on the floor. Then it went down and the Hags put the hearthstone above it.

  "What will we do with the fellow?" said one of the Hags, looking at Flann who was in a swoon on the floor.

  "Cut off his head with the sword that he threatened us with," said another.

  "No," said the third Hag. "Crom Duv the Giant is in want of a servant. Let him take this fellow. Then maybe the Giant will give us what he has promised us for so long—a Berry to each of us from the Fairy Rowan Tree that grows in his courtyard."

  "Let it be, let it be," said the other Hags. They put green branches on the fire so that Crom Duv would see the smoke and come to the house. In the morning he came. He brought Flann outside, and after awhile Flann's senses came back to him. Then the Giant tied a rope round his arms and drove him before him with a long iron spike that he had for a staff.

  II

  CROM DUV'S arms stretched down to his twisted knees; he had long, yellow, overlapping horse's teeth in his mouth, with a fall-down under-lip and a drawn-back upper-lip; he had a matted rug of hair on his head. He was as high as a haystack. He carried in his twisted hand an iron spike pointed at the end. And wherever he was going he went as quickly as a running mule.

  He tied Flann's hands behind his back and drew the rope round Flann's body. Then he started off. Flann was dragged on as if at the tail of a cart. Over ditches and through streams; up hillsides and down into hollows he was hauled. Then they came into a plain as round as the wheel of a cart. Across the plain they went and into a mile-deep wood. Beyond the wood there were buildings—such walls and such heaps of stones Flann never saw before.

  Flann was dragged on.

  But before they had entered the wood they had come to a high grassy mound. And standing on that grassy mound was the most tremendous bull that Flann had ever seen.

  "What bull is that, Giant?" said Flann.

  "My own bull," said Crom Duv, "the Bull of the Mound. Look back at him, little fellow. If ever you try to escape from my service my Bull of the Mound will toss you into the air and trample you into the ground." Crom Duv blew on a horn that he had across his chest. The Bull of the Mound rushed down the slope snorting. Crom Duv shouted and the bull stood still with his tremendous head bent down.

  Flann's heart, I tell you, sank, when he saw the bull that guarded Crom Duv's house. They went through the deep wood then, and came to the gate of the Giant's Keep. Only a chain was across it, and Crom Duv lifted up the chain. The courtyard was filled with cattle—black and red and striped. The Giant tied Flann to a stone pillar. "Are you there, Morag, my byre-maid?" he shouted.

  "I am here," said a
voice from the byre. More cattle were in the byre and someone was milking them.

  There was straw on the ground of the courtyard and Crom Duv lay down on it and went to sleep with the cattle trampling around him.

  A great stone wall was being built all round the Giant's Keep—a wall six feet thick and built as high as twenty feet in some places and in others as high as twelve. The wall was still being built, for heaps of stones and great mixing-pans were about. And just before the door of the Keep was a Rowan Tree that grew to a great height. At the very top of the tree were bunches of red berries. Cats were lying around the stems of the tree and cats were in its branches—great yellow cats. More yellow cats stepped out of the house and came over to him. They looked Flann all over and went back, mewing to each other.

  The cattle that were in the courtyard went into the byre one by one as they were called by the voice of the byre-maid. Crom Duv still slept. By and by a little red hen that was picking about the courtyard came near him and holding up her head looked Flann all over.

  When the last cow had gone in and the last stream of milk had sounded in the milking-vessel the byre-maid came into the courtyard. Flann thought he would see a long-armed creature like Crom Duv himself. Instead he saw a girl with good and kind eyes, whose disfigurements were that her face was pitted and her hair was bushy. "I am Morag, Crom Duv's byre-maid," said she.

  "Will Crom Duv kill me?" said Flann.

  "No. He'll make you serve him," said the byre-maid.

  "And what will he make me do for him?"

  "He will make you help to build his wall. Crom Duv goes out every morning to bring his cattle to pasture on the plain. And when he comes back he builds the wall round his house. He'll make you mix mortar and carry it to him, for I heard him say he wants a servant to do that."

  "I'll escape from this," said Flann, "and I'll bring you with me."

  "Hush," said Morag, and she pointed to seven yellow cats that were standing at Crom Duv's door, watching them. "The cats," said she, "are Crom Duv's watchers here and the Bull of the Mound is his watcher outside."

  "And is this Little Red Hen a watcher too?" said Flann, for the Little Red Hen was watching them sideways.

  "The Little Red Hen is my friend and adviser," said Morag, and she went into the house with two vessels of milk.

  CROM Duv wakened up. He untied Flann and left him free. "You must mix mortar for me now," he said. He went into the byre and came out with a great vessel of milk. He left it down near the mixing-pan. He went to the side of the house and came back with a trough of blood.

  "What are these for, Crom Duv?" said Flann.

  "To mix the mortar with, gilly," said the Giant. "Bullock's blood and new milk is what I mix my mortar with, so that nothing can break down the walls that I'm building round the Fairy Rowan Tree. Every day I kill a bullock and every day my byre-maid fills a vessel of milk to mix with my mortar. Set to now, and mix the mortar for me."

  Flann brought lime and sand to the mixing-pan and he mixed them in bullock's blood and new milk. He carried stones to Crom Duv. And so he worked until it was dark. Then Crom Duv got down from where he was building and told Flann to go into the house.

  The yellow cats were there and Flann counted sixteen of them. Eight more were outside, in the branches or around the stem of the Rowan Tree. Morag came in, bringing a great dish of porridge. Crom Duv took up a wooden spoon and ate porridge out of vessel after vessel of milk. Then he shouted for his beer and Morag brought him vessel after vessel of beer. Crom Duv emptied one after the other. Then he shouted for his knife and when Morag brought it he began to sharpen it, singing a queer song to himself.

  "He's sharpening a knife to kill a bullock in the morning," said Morag. "Come now, and I'll give you your supper."

  She took him to the kitchen at the back of the house. She gave him porridge and milk and he ate his supper. Then she showed him a ladder to a room above, and he went up there and made a bed for himself. He slept soundly, although he dreamed of the twenty-four yellow cats within, and the tremendous Bull of the Mound outside Crom Duv's Keep.

  III

  THIS is how the days were spent in the house of Crom Duv. The Giant and his two servants, Flann and Morag, were out of their beds at the mouth of the day. Crom Duv sounded his horn and the Bull of the Mound bellowed an answer. Then he started work on his wall, making Flann carry mortar to him. Morag put down the fire and boiled the pots. Pots of porridge, plates of butter and pans of milk were on the table when Crom Duv and Flann came in to their breakfasts. Then, when the Giant had driven out his cattle to the pasture Flann cleaned the byre and made the mortar, mixing lime and sand with bullock's blood and new milk. In the afternoon the Giant came back and he and Flann started work on the wall.

  All the time the twenty-four yellow cats lay on the branches of the Rowan Tree or walked about the courtyard or lapped up great crocks of milk. Morag's Little Red Hen went hopping round the courtyard. She seemed to be sleepy or to be always considering something. If one of the twenty-four yellow cats looked at her the Little Red Hen would waken up, murmur something, and hop away.

  One day the cattle came home without Crom Duv. "He has gone on one of his journeys," said Morag, "and will not be back for a night and a day."

  "Then it is time for me to make my escape," said Flann.

  "How can you make your escape, my dear, my dear?" said Morag. "If you go by the front the Bull of the Mound will toss you in the air and then trample you into the ground."

  "But I have strength and cunning and activity enough to climb the wall at the back."

  "But if you climb the wall at the back," said Morag, "you will only come to the Moat of Poisoned Water."

  "The Moat of Poisoned Water?"

  "The Moat of Poisoned Water," said Morag. "The water poisons the skin of any creature that tries to swim across the Moat."

  Flann was downcast when he heard of the Moat of Poisoned Water. But his mind was fixed on climbing the wall. "I may find some way of crossing the poisoned water," he said, "so bake my cake and give me provision for my journey."

  Morag baked a cake and put it on the griddle. And when it was baked she wrapped it in a napkin and gave it to him. "Take my blessing with it," said she, "and if you escape, may you meet someone who will be a better help to you than I was. I must keep the twenty-four cats from watching you while you are climbing the wall."

  "And how will you do that?" said Flann.

  She showed him what she would do. With a piece of glass she made on the wall of the byre the shadows of flying birds. Birds never flew across the House of Crom Duv and the cats were greatly taken with the appearances that Morag made with the piece of glass. Six cats watched, and then another six came, and after them six more, and after them the six that watched in the Rowan Tree. And the twenty-four yellow cats sat round and watched with burning eyes the appearances of birds that Morag made on the byre-wall. Flann looked back and saw her seated on a stone, and he thought the Byre-Maid looked lonesome.

  He tried with all his activity, all his cunning and all his strength, and at last he climbed the wall at the back of Crom Duv's house. He gave a whistle to let Morag know he was over. Then he went through a little wood and came to the Moat of Poisoned Water.

  VERY ugly the dead water looked. Ugly stakes stuck up from the mud to pierce any creature that tried to leap across. And here and there on the water were patches of green poison as big as cabbage leaves. Flann drew back from the Moat. Leap it he could not, and swim it he dare not.

  And just as he drew back he saw a creature he knew come down to the bank opposite to him. It was Rory the Fox. Rory carried in his mouth the skin of a calf. He dropped the skin into the water and pushed it out before him. Then he got into the water and swam very cautiously, always pushing the calf's skin before him. Then Rory climbed up on the bank where Flann was, and the skin, all green and wrinkled, sank down into the water.

  Rory was going to turn tail, but then he recognized Flann. "Master," said he, an
d he licked the dust on the ground.

  "What are you doing here, Rory?" said Flann.

  "I won't mind telling you if you promise to tell no other creature," said Rory.

  "I won't tell," said Flann.

  "Well then," said Rory, "I have moved my little family over here. I was being chased about a good deal, and my little family wasn't safe. So I moved them over here." The fox turned and looked round at the country behind him. "It suits me very well," said he; "no creature would think of crossing this moat after me."

  "Well," said Flann, "tell me how you are able to cross it."

  "I will," said the fox, "if you promise never to hunt me nor any of my little family."

  "I promise," said Flann.

  "Well," said Rory, "the water poisons every skin. Now the reason that I pushed the calf's skin across was that it might take the poison out of the water. The water poisons every skin. But where the skin goes the poison is taken out of the water for a while, and a living creature can cross behind it if he is cautious."

  "I thank you for showing me the way to cross the moat," said Flann.

  "I don't mind showing you," said Rory the Fox, and he went off to his burrow.

  There were deer-skins and calf-skins both sides of the moat. Flann took a calf's skin. He pushed it into the water with a stick. He swam cautiously behind it. When he reached the other side of the moat, the skin, all green and wrinkled, sank in the water.