The creature caught him in its long arms.

The Fua came the next night and flung stones as before, and the King's Son wrestled with it in the very middle of the river, and held him so that he could not get to the other bank. "I will give you heaps of wealth because you have mastered me," said the creature with the big eyes and the long arms. "Not wealth, but the knowledge of where to come on the Sword of Light is what I want from you," said the King of Ireland's Son. But the Fua twisted from him and ran away again.

The next night the Fua came again, and the King's Son wrestled with him in the middle of the river and followed him up the other bank, and held him against a tree. "I will give you the craft that will make you the greatest of Kings, because you have mastered me." "Not craft, but knowledge of where the Sword of Light is, I want from you," said the King's Son. "Only one of the People of Light can tell you that," said the Fua. It became a small, empty sort of creature and lay on the ground like a shadow.

The Gobaun Saor came back to his forge and his anvil. "You have guarded my anvil for me," he said, "and I will tell you where to go for the Sword of Light. It is in the Palace of the Ancient Ones under the Lake. You have an enchanted steed that can go to that Lake. I shall turn his head, and he shall go straight to it. When you come to the edge of the Lake pull the branches of the Fountain Tree and give the Slight Red Steed the leaves to eat. Mount now and go."

The King of Ireland's Son mounted the Slight Red Steed and went traveling again.

II

FROM all its branches, high and low, water was falling in little streams. This was the Fountain Tree indeed. He did not dismount, the King of Ireland's Son, but pulled the branches and he gave them to the Slight Red Steed to eat.

He ate no more than three mouthfuls. Then he stamped on the ground with his hooves, lifted his head high and neighed three times. With that he plunged into the water of the Lake and swam and swam as if he had the strength of a dragon. He swam while there was light on the water and he swam while there was night on the water, and when the sun of the next day was a hand's breadth above the lake he came to the Black Island.

All on that Island was black and burnt, and there were black ashes up to the horse's knees. And no sooner had the Slight Red Steed put his hooves on the Island than he galloped straight to the middle of it. He galloped through an opening in the black rock and went through a hundred passages, each going lower than the other, and at last he came into the wide space of a hall.

The hall was lighted. When the King's Son looked to see where the light came from he saw a sword hanging from the roof. And the brightness of the Sword was such that the hall was well lighted. The King of Ireland's Son galloped the Slight Red Steed forward and made it rear up. His hand grasped the hilt of the Sword. As he pulled it down the Sword screeched in his hand.

He flashed it about and saw what other things were in the Cave. He saw one woman, and two women and three women. He came to them and he saw they were sleeping. And as he flashed the Sword about he saw other women sleeping too. There were twelve women in the Cave where the Sword of Light had been hanging and the women were sleeping.

And in the hands of each of the sleeping women was a great gemmed cup. The spirit of the King's Son had grown haughty since he felt the Sword in his hands. "You have the sword, why should you not have the cup?" something within him said. He took a cup from the hands of one of the sleeping women and drank the bubbling water that it held. His spirit grew more haughty with that draught. From the hands of each of the twelve sleeping women he took the cup and he drank the draught of bubbling water that it held. And when he had drunk the twelve draughts of bubbling water he felt that with the Sword of Light in his hands he could cut his way through the earth.

He mounted the Slight Red Steed and rode it through the Cave and swam it across the Lake with No Name. He held the Sword of Light across his saddle. The Steed went as the current drew him, for it was long since he had eaten the leaves of the Fountain Tree, and the spirit that had made him vigorous coming was feeble now. The current brought them to the shore below where the Fountain Tree grew.

AND there on the shore he saw a bunch of little men, little women and littler children, all with smoke-colored skins, all with but one eye in their heads, all crying and screaming at each other like sea-birds, and all sitting round a fire of dried water weeds, cooking and eating eels and crab-apples.

The King of Ireland's Son put his hands on the bridle-rein and drew the Slight Red Steed out of the water. The women with one right eye and the men with one left eye, and the children in their bare smoky skins screamed at him, "What do you want, what do you want, man with the horse?"

"Feed and water my steed for me," said the King of Ireland's Son.

"We are the Swallow People, and no one commands us to do things," said an old fellow with a beard like knots of ropes.

"Feed my steed with red wheat and water it with pure spring water," said the King's Son fiercely. "I am the King of Ireland's Son and the Sword of Light is in my hands, and what I command must be done."

"We are the Swallow People and we are accounted a harmless people," said the old fellow.

"Why are ye harmless?" said the King's Son, and he flourished the sword at them.

"Come into our cave, King's Son," said the old fellow, "we will give you refreshment there, and the children will attend to your steed."

He went into the cave with certain of the Swallow People. They were all unmannerly. They kept screaming and crying to each other; they pulled at the clothes of the King's Son and pinched him. One of them bit his hands. When they came into the cave they all sat down on black stones. One pulled in a black ass loaded with nets. They took the nets off its back, and before the King's Son knew that anything was about to happen they threw the nets around him. The meshes of the nets were sticky. He felt himself caught. He ran at the Swallow People and fell over a stone. Then they drew more nets around his legs.

The old fellow whom he had commanded took up the Sword of Light. Then the Swallow People pulled up the ass that had carried the nets and rubbed its hard hoof on the Sword. The King's Son did not know what happened to it. Then he heard them cry, "The brightness is gone off the thing now." They left the Sword on a black rock, and now no light came from it. Then all the Swallow People scrambled out of the cave.

They came back eating eels and crab-apples out of their hands. They paid no attention to the King of Ireland's Son, but climbed into a cave above where he was lying.

He broke the nets that were round him. He found the Sword on the black stones, with the brightness all gone from it because of the rubbing with the ass's hoof. He climbed up the wall of the other cave to punish the Swallow People. They saw him before he could see them in the darkness, and they all went into holes and hid themselves as if they were rats and mice.

With the blackened sword in his hands the King of Ireland's Son went out of the Cave, and the horse he had left behind, the Slight Red Steed, was not to be found.

III

WITHOUT a steed and with a blackened sword the King of Ireland's Son came to where the Gobaun Saor had set up his forge and planted his anvil. No water nor sand would clean the Sword, but he left it down before the Gobaun Saor, hoping that he would show him a way to clean it. "The Sword must be bright that will kill the King of the Land of Mist and cut the tress that will awaken the Enchanter's daughter," said the Gobaun Saor. "You have let the Sword be blackened. Carry the blackened Sword with you now."

"Brighten it for me and I will serve you," said the King of Ireland's Son.

"It is not easy for me to brighten the Sword now," said the Gobaun Saor. "But find me the Unique Tale and what went before its beginning and what comes after its end, and I shall brighten the sword for you and show you the way to the Land of Mist. Go now, and search for the Unique Tale."

He went, and he had many far journeys, I can tell you, and he found no person who had any knowledge of the Unique Tale or who knew any way of coming to the Land of Mist. One twilight in a wood he saw a great bird flying towards him. It lighted on an old tree, and the King of Ireland's Son saw it was Laheen the Eagle.

"Are you still a friend to me, Eagle?" said the King's Son.

"I am still a friend to you, King's Son," said Laheen.

"Then tell me where I should go to get knowledge of the Unique Tale," said the King of Ireland's Son.

"The Unique Tale—I never heard of it at all," said Laheen the Eagle, changing from one leg to the other. "I am old," she said, shaking her wings, "and I never heard of the Unique Tale."

The King's Son looked and saw that Laheen was really old. Her neck was bare of feathers and her wings were gray. "Oh, if you are so old," said the King's Son, "and have gone to so many places, and do not know of the Unique Tale, to whom can I go to get knowledge of it?"

"Listen," said Laheen the Eagle, "there are five of us that are called the Five Ancient Ones of Ireland, and it is not known which one of the five is the oldest. There is myself, Laheen the Eagle; there is Blackfoot the Elk of Ben Gulban, there is the Crow of Achill, the Salmon of Assaroe and the Old Woman of Beare. We do not know ourselves which of us is the oldest, but we know that we five are the most ancient of living things. I have never heard of the Unique Tale," said Laheen, "but maybe one of the other Ancients has heard of it."

"I will go to them," said the King's Son. "Tell me how I will find the Crow of Achill, the Elk of Ben Gulban, the Salmon of Assaroe and the Old Woman of Beare—tell me how to go to them, Laheen the Eagle."

"You need not go to the Salmon of Assaroe," said the Eagle, "for the Salmon would not have heard any tale. I will get you means of finding the other three. Follow the stream now until you come to the river. Wait at the ford and I will fly to you there." Laheen the Eagle then shook her wings and flew slowly away. The King of Ireland's Son followed the stream until he came to the river—the River of the Ox it was.

IV

AND having come to the River of the Ox he sought the ford and waited there for Laheen the Eagle. When it was high noon he saw the shadow of the Eagle in the water of the ford. He looked up. Laheen let something fall into the shallows. It was a wheel. Then Laheen lighted on the rocks of a waterfall above the ford and spoke to the King of Ireland's Son.

"Son of King Connal," she said, "roll this wheel before you and follow it where it goes. It will bring you first where Blackfoot the Elk abides. Ask the Elk has he knowledge of the Unique Tale. If he has no knowledge of it start the wheel rolling again. It will bring you then where the Crow of Achill abides. If the Crow cannot tell you anything of the Unique Tale, let the wheel bring you to where the Old Woman of Beare lives. If she cannot tell you of the Unique Tale, I cannot give you any further help."

Laheen the Eagle then spread out her wings and rising above the mist of the waterfall flew away.

The King of Ireland's Son took the wheel out of the shallow water and set it rolling before him. It went on without his touching it again. Then he was going and ever going with the clear day going before him and the dark night coming behind him, going through scrubby fields and shaggy bog-lands, going up steep mountain sides and along bare mountain ridges, until at last he came to a high mound on a lonesome mountain. And as high as the mound and as lonesome as the mountain was the Elk that was standing there with wide, wide horns. The wheel ceased rolling.

"I am from Laheen the Eagle," said the King of Ireland's Son.

The Elk moved his wide-horned head and looked down at him. "And why have you come to me, son?" said the Elk.

"I came to ask if you had knowledge of the Unique Tale," said the King of Ireland's Son.

"I have no knowledge of the Unique Tale," said the Elk in a deep voice.

"And are you not Blackfoot, the Elk of Ben Gulban, one of the five of the oldest creatures in the world?" said the King of Ireland's Son.

"I am the Elk of Ben Gulban," said Blackfoot, "and it may be that there is no creature in the world more ancient than I am. The Fianna hunted me with their hounds before the Sons of Milé came to the Island of Woods. If it was a Tale of Finn or Caelta or Goll, of Oscar or Oisin or Conan, I could tell it to you. But I know nothing of the Unique Tale."

Then Blackfoot the Elk of Ben Gulban turned his wide-horned head away and looked at the full old moon that was coming up in the sky. And the King of Ireland's Son took up the wheel and went to look for a shelter. He found a sheep-cote on the side of the mountain and lay down and slept between sheep.

V

WHEN the sun rose he lifted up the wheel and set it going before him. He was going and ever going down long hillsides and across spreading plains till he came to where old trees and tree-stumps were standing hardly close enough together to keep each other company. The wheel went through this ancient wood and stopped before a fallen oak-tree. And sitting on a branch of that oak, with a gray head bent and featherless wings gathered up to her neck was a crow.

"I come from Laheen the Eagle," said the King of Ireland's Son.

"What did you say?" said the Crow, opening one eye.

"I come from Laheen the Eagle," said the King of Ireland's Son again.

"Oh, from Laheen," said the Crow and closed her eye again.

"And I came to ask for knowledge of the Unique Tale," said the King of Ireland's Son.

"Laheen," said the Crow, "I remember Laheen the Eagle." Keeping her eyes shut, she laughed and laughed until she was utterly hoarse. "I remember Laheen the Eagle," she said again. "Laheen never found out what I did to her once. I stole the Crystal Egg out of her nest. Well, and how is Laheen the Eagle?" she said sharply, opening one eye.

"Laheen is well," said the King of Ireland's Son. "She sent me to ask if you had knowledge of the Unique Tale."

"I am older than Laheen," said the Crow. "I remember Paralon's People. The Salmon of Assaroe always said he was before Paralon's People. But never mind! Laheen can't say that. If I could only get the feathers to stay on my wings I'd pay Laheen a visit some day. How are Laheen and her bird-flocks?"

"O Crow of Achill," said the King of Ireland's Son, "I was sent to ask if you had knowledge of the Unique Tale."

"The Unique Tale! No, I never heard of it," said the Crow. She gathered her wings up to her neck again and bent her gray head.

"Think, O Crow of Achill," said the King of Ireland's Son. "I will bring you the warmest wool for your nest."

"I never heard of the Unique Tale," said the Crow. "Tell Laheen I was asking for her." Nothing would rouse the Crow of Achill again. The King of Ireland's Son set the wheel rolling and followed it. Then he was going and ever going with the clear day before him and the dark night coming behind him. He came to a wide field where there were field-fares or ground larks in companies. He crossed it. He came to a plain of tall daisies where there were thousands of butterflies. He crossed it. He came to a field of buttercups where blue pigeons were feeding. He crossed it. He came to a field of flax in blue blossom. He crossed it and came to a smoke-blackened stone house deep sunk in the ground. The wheel stopped rolling before it and he went into the house.

AN old woman was seated on the ground before the fire basting a goose. A rabbit-skin cap was on her hairless head and there were no eye-brows on her face. Three strange birds were eating out of the pot—a cuckoo, a corncrake and a swallow. "Come to the fire, gilly," said the old woman when she looked round.

"I am not a gilly, but the King of Ireland's Son," said he.

"Well, let that be. What do you want of me?"

"Are you the Old Woman of Beare?"

"I have been called the Old Woman of Beare since your fore-great-grandfather's time."

"How old are you, old mother?"

"I do not know. But do you see the three birds that are picking out of my pot? For two score years the swallow was coming to my house and building outside. Then he came and built inside. Then for three score years he was coming into my house to build here. Now he never goes across the sea at all. And do you see the corncrake? For five score years she was coming to the meadow outside. Then she began to run into the house to see what was happening here. For two score years she was running in and out. Then she stayed here altogether. Now she never goes across the sea at all. And do you see the cuckoo there? For seven score years she used to come to a tree that was outside and sing over her notes. Then when the tree was gone, she used to light on the roof of my house. Then she used to come in to see herself in a looking glass. I do not know how many score years the cuckoo was going and coming, but I know it is many score years since she went across the sea."

"I went from Laheen the Eagle to Blackfoot the Elk, and from the Elk of Ben Gulban to the Crow of Achill, and from the Crow of Achill, I come to you to ask if you have knowledge of the Unique Tale."

"The Unique Tale, indeed," said the Old Woman of Beare. "One came to me only last night to tell me the Unique Tale. He is the young man who is counting the horns."

"What young man is he and what horns is he counting?"

"He is no King's Son, but a gilly—Gilly of the Goat-skin he is called. He is counting the horns that are in two pits outside. When the horns are counted I will know the number of my half-years."

"How is that, old mother?"

"My father used to kill an ox every year on my birthday, and after my father's death, my servants, one after the other, used to kill an ox for me. The horns of the oxen were put into two pits, one on the right-hand side of the house and one on the left-hand side. If one knew the number of the horns one would know the number of my half-years, for every pair of horns goes to make a year of my life. Gilly of the Goatskin is counting the horns for me now, and when he finishes counting them I will let him tell the Unique Tale."

"But you must let me listen to the tale too, Old Woman of Beare."

"If you count the horns in one pit I will let you listen to the tale."

"Then I will count the horns in one pit."

"Go outside then and count them."

The King of Ireland's Son went outside. He found on the right-hand side of the house a deep quarry-pit. Round the edge of it were horns of all kinds, black horns and white horns, straight horns and crooked horns. And below in the pit he saw a young man digging for horns that were sunk in the ground. He had on a jacket made of the skin of a goat.

"Who are you?" said the young man in the quarry-pit.

"I am the King of Ireland's Son. And who may you be?"

"Who I am I don't know," said the young man in the goatskin, "but they call me Gilly of the Goatskin. What have you come here for?"

"To get knowledge of the Unique Tale."

"And it was to tell the same Unique Tale that I came here myself. Why do you want to know the Unique Tale?"

"That would make a long story. Why do you want to tell it?"

"That would make a longer story. There is a quarry-pit at the left-hand side of the house filled with horns and it must be your task to count them."

"I will count them," said the King of Ireland's Son. "But you will be finished before me. Do not tell the Old Woman of Beare the Tale until we both sit down together."

"If that suits you it will suit me," said Gilly of the Goatskin, and he began to dig again.

The King of Ireland's Son went to the left-hand side of the house. He found the quarry-pit and went into it to count the horns that were there—black horns and white horns, straight horns and crooked horns. And now, while the King of Ireland's Son is in the quarry-pit, I will tell you the adventures of Gilly—the Lad or the Servant—of the Goatskin, which adventures are written in "The Craneskin Book."

VI

HE never stirred out of the cradle till he was past twelve years of age, but lay there night and day, long days and short days; the only garment he ever put on was a goatskin; a hunter had once put it down on the floor beside his cradle and he reached out with his two hands, drew it in and put the goatskin on him. He got his name and his coat at the same time, for he was called ever afterwards "Gilly of the Goatskin."

But although he never stirred out of the cradle, Gilly of the Goatskin had ways of diverting himself. He used to shoot arrows with a bow out of the door of the house and hit a mark on a tree that was opposite him. And where did he get the bow and arrows?  The bow fell down from the roof of the house and into the cradle. And as for arrows he used to make them out of the wands that the Hags brought in to make baskets with. But the Hags never saw him using the bow and sending off the arrows. All day they would be going along the streams gathering the willow wands for the baskets they made.

He knew nobody except the three Hags of the Long Teeth, and he had never heard the name of mother or father. Often, when she was peeling the wands with a black-handled knife, the Hag of the House used to tell Gilly of the Goatskin the troubles that were in store for him—danger from the sword and the spear and the knife, from water and fire, from the beasts of the earth and the birds of the air. She delighted to tell him about the evils that would befall him. And she used to laugh when she told him he was a hump-back and that people would throw stones at him.

ONE day when the Hags were away gathering willow wands, Gilly turned the cradle over and lay under it. He wanted to see what they would do when they did not see him sitting up in the cradle. They came in. Gilly looked through a crack in the cradle and saw the Hags—they were old and crooked and had long teeth that came down below their chins.

"He's gone, he's gone, he's gone!" screamed the Hag of the House, when she did not see Gilly in the cradle.

"He's gone," said one of the long-toothed Hags. "I told you he would go away. Why didn't you cut out his heart yesterday, or the day before?"

"Mind what I tell you," said the other Hag of the Long Teeth. "Mind what I tell you. His father's son will grow into a powerful champion."

"Not he," said the Hag of the House, with great anger. "He'll never become a Champion. He's only a little hump-backed fellow with no weapons and with no garment but a goatskin."

"It would be better to kill him when he comes back," said the first of the Hags with the Long Teeth.

"And if he doesn't come back, tell the Giant Crom Duv," said the second.

Gilly of the Goatskin crept from under the cradle, put his bow resting on the bottom that was now turned uppermost, took up some of the rods that were on the floor and then shouted at the Hags. "Oh, if that's a hazel rod he has at his bow he will kill us all," they screamed out together.