The Master and his Pupil

There was once a very learned man in the north-country who knew all the languages under the sun and who was acquainted with all the mysteries of the world. He had one big book bound in black calf and clasped with iron and with iron corners and chained to a table on the floor. When he read this book, he unlocked it with an iron key. This famous book contained all the secrets of the spiritual world. It told how many angels there were in heaven and how they marched in their ranks and sang and what were their several functions, and what was the name of each great angel of might. And it told of the demons, how many of them there were and what were their several powers and their labours and their names and how they might be summoned and how tasks might be imposed on them and how they might be chained to be as slaves to man.

Now the master had a pupil who was a foolish lad, and he acted as servant to the great master. The boy was never allowed to look into the black book, hardly to enter the private room.

One day the master was out. The lad was very curious. So he hurried to the chamber where his master kept his wonderful apparatus for changing copper into gold and lead into silver. There was his magic mirror in which he could see all that was passing in the world. There also was the shell which when held to the ear whispered all the words that were spoken by anyone the master desired to know about. The lad tried in vain with the crucibles to turn copper and lead into gold and silver. He looked long and vainly into the mirror; smoke and clouds passed over it, but he saw nothing plain. And the shell produced to his ear only indistinct murmurings, like the breaking of distant seas on an unknown shore. “I can do nothing,” he said; “as I don’t know the right words to utter, and they are locked up in that magic book.”

He looked round, and, see! the book was not locked. The master had forgotten to lock it before he went out. The boy rushed to it and opened the volume. It was written with red and black ink, and much of it he could not understand. But he put his finger on a line and spelled it through.

At once the room was darkened, and the house trembled; a clap of thunder rolled through the passage and the old room, and there stood before him a horrible, horrible form, breathing fire, and with eyes like burning lamps. It was the demon, whom he had called up to serve him.

“Set me a task!” said he with a voice like the roaring of an iron furnace.

The boy only trembled, and his hair stood up.

“Set me a task, or I shall strangle you!”

But the lad could not speak. Then the evil spirit stepped towards him and putting forth his hands touched his throat. The fingers burned his flesh. “Set me a task!”

“Water that flower,” cried the boy in despair, pointing to a geranium which stood in a pot on the floor. Instantly, the spirit left the room, but in another instant he returned with a barrel on his back and poured its contents over the flower; and again and again he went and came and poured more and more water till the floor of the room was ankle-deep.

“Enough, enough!” gasped the lad, but the demon did not hear him. The lad didn’t know the words by which to send him away, and still he fetched water.

It rose to the boy’s knees and still more water was poured. It mounted to his waist, and the demon still kept on bringing barrels full. It rose to his armpits, and he scrambled to the table-top. And now the water in the room stood up to the window and washed against the glass and around his feet on the table. It still rose; it reached his breast. The poor boy cried, but all was useless. The evil spirit was pouring and pouring and pouring water. But the master remembered on his journey that he had not locked his book and therefore returned, and at the moment when the water was bubbling about the pupil’s chin, rushed into the room and spoke the words which cast the demon back into his fiery home.

Black, Brown and Gray

J. Curtin

One day Fin MacCumhail was near Tara of the Kings, south of Ballyshannon, hunting with seven companies of the Fenians of Erin.

During the day they saw three strange men coming towards them. Fin said to the Fenians: “Do not speak to them, and if they have good manners they’ll not speak to you before they come to me.”

When the three men came up, they said nothing. Then they stood before Fin himself. He asked their names and what they wanted. They answered:—

“Our names are Dubh, Dun, and Glasán [Black, Brown, and Gray]. We have come to find Fin MacCumhail, chief of the Fenians of Erin, and serve him.”

Fin liked their looks so much that he brought them home that evening and called them his sons. Then he said, “Every man who comes to this castle must watch the first night for me. Three of you have come together, so each will watch one third of the night.”

Fin asked to bring three logs. He gave one log to each of the men.

Then he said, “When each of you begins his watch he will set fire to his piece of wood. As long as the wood burns he will watch.”

Dubh was to go on the first watch. Dubh set fire to his log, then went out around the castle with the dog Bran after him. He went further and further from the castle. At last he saw a bright light and went towards it. When he came to the place where the light was burning, he saw a large house. He entered the house. Inside he saw a great company of very strange looking men. They were drinking out of a single cup.

The chief of the party was sitting on a high place. He gave the cup to the man nearest him. When he had drunk it all, he passed the cup to his neighbor, and so on to the last.

While the cup was going the round of the company, the chief said, “This is the great cup that was taken from Fin MacCumhail a hundred years ago. Each man can drink as much as he wants from it. No matter how many men there are, or how much they drink, the cup gets full again.”

When the cup came to Dubh he drank a little. Then he got out and ran away in the dark. When he came to the fountain at the castle of Fin MacCumhail, his log was burned.

Now was Dun’s turn to watch. He set fire to his log and went out, in the place of Dubh, with the dog Bran after him.

Dun walked on through the night till he saw a fire. He went towards it, and when he had come near he saw a large house, which he entered. Inside he saw a crowd of strange looking men, fighting. They were very aggressive and were fighting wildly.

The chief shouted to the crowd: “Stop fighting now. I have a better gift than the one you have lost this night.” And he showed them a knife, saying: “Here is the wonderful knife, that was stolen from Fin MacCumhail a hundred years ago. If you cut on a bone with the knife, you’ll get the finest meat in the world. As much of it as you want.”

Then he gave the knife and a bone to the man next him. The man began to cut and slices of the best meat in the world came off it.

The knife and the bone passed from man to man till they came to Dun. He cut a slice off the bone, and ran to Fin’s castle as fast as he could.

When he was by the fountain at the castle, his part of the log was burned and his watch at an end.

Now Glasán set fire to his log and went out on his watch. He walked on till he saw the light and came to the same house that Dubh and Dun had visited. He saw the place full of dead bodies, and thought, “There must be some great wonder here. If I lie down and put some of the bodies over me to hide myself, I will be able to see what is going on.”

He lay down and put some of the bodies over himself. Then he saw an old witch coming into the house. She had one leg, one arm, and one upper tooth. She took up the first dead body she met and threw it aside; it was thin. As she went on she took two bites out of every fat body she met, and threw every thin one aside.

She had enough of flesh and blood before she came to Glasán, so she fell down on the floor, lay on her back, and went to sleep.

Glasán rose up, looked at her ugly body. Then he drew his sword, hit her and suddenly three young giants appeared.

Glasán killed the first giant, the dog Bran killed the second, and the third ran away.

Glasán now ran back, and when he reached the fountain at Fin’s castle, his log of wood was burned, and day was coming to the end.

When everyone had got up in the morning, and the Fenians of Erin came out, Fin said to Dubh, “Have you got anything new or wonderful to tell me after the night’s watching?”

“I have,” said Dubh; “I brought back the drinking-cup that you had lost a hundred years ago. I was out in the darkness watching. I walked on, and the dog Bran with me till I saw a light. When I came to the light I found a house, and in the house a company drinking. The chief was a very old man, and sat on a high place above the rest. He took out the cup and said: ‘This is the cup that was stolen from Fin MacCumhail a hundred years ago. It is always full of the best drink in the world; and when one of you has drunk from the cup pass it on to the next.’

“They drank and passed the cup till it came to me. I took it and hurried back. When I came here, my log was burned and my watch was finished. Here now is the cup for you,” said Dubh to Fin MacCumhail.

Fin praised him greatly for what he had done, and turning to Dun said: “Now tell us what happened in your watch.”

“When my turn came I set fire to the log which you gave me, and walked on with the dog Bran till I saw a light. When I came to the light, I found a house in which was a crowd of people. All of them were fighting except one very old man on a high place above the rest. He told them to be quiet. ‘I have a better gift for you than the one you lost this night,’ he said. He took out the small knife with a bare bone, and said: ‘This is the knife that was stolen from Fin MacCumhail, a hundred years ago. Whenever you cut on the bone with the knife, you’ll get as much meat as you want.’

“Then he handed the knife and the bone to the man nearest him, who cut from it all the meat he wanted, and then passed it to his neighbor. The knife went from hand to hand till it came to me, then I took it and ran away. When I came to the fountain, my log was burned, and here are the knife and bone for you.”

“You have done a great work, and deserve my best praise,” said Fin. “We will have the best eating and drinking as long as we keep the cup and the knife.”

“Now what have you seen in your part of the night?” said Fin to Glasán.

“I went out,” said Glasán, “with the dog Bran, and walked on till I saw a light. When I came to the light I saw a house, which I entered. Inside were dead men, killed in fighting. I was really surprised when I saw them. At last I lay down among the dead bodies, put some of them over me and waited to see what would happen.

“Soon an old witch came, she had one arm, one leg, and the one tooth. She threw aside the first dead body she met and took two bites out of the second,—for she threw every thin bodies away and took two bites out of every fat one. When she had eaten enough, she lay down on her back in the middle of the floor and went to sleep. I rose up and cut her and suddenly three young giants appeared before me. I killed the first, Bran killed the second, but the third escaped. I walked away then, and when I was at the fountain outside, daylight had come and my log was burned.”

“Between you and me,” said Fin, “it would be better if you had let the old witch alone. I am afraid the third young giant will bring trouble on us all.”

For twenty-one years Fin MacCumhail and the Fenians of Erin hunted for sport alone. They had the best of eating from the small knife, and the best of drinking from the cup that was never dry. At the end of twenty-one years Dubh, Dun, and Glasán went away.

One day, as Fin and the Fenians of Erin were hunting on the hills and mountains, they saw a Fear Ruadh (a red haired man) coming toward them.

“There is a man coming this way,” said Fin, “but don’t speak to him before he comes to me.”

The Fear Ruadh came forward and did not speak till he stood before Fin.

“What have you come for?” asked Fin.

“To find a master for twenty-one years.”

“What do you ask?” asked Fin.

“That if I die before the twenty-one years have passed, I shall be buried on Inis Caol (Light Island).”

“All right,” said Fin, and he hired the Fear Ruadh for twenty-one years.

He served Fin for twenty years, but toward the end of the twenty-first year he did not feel well. He became an old man, and died.

When the Fear Ruadh was dead, the Fenians of Erin said that they would not go to bury him. Fin told them that he wouldn’t break his word for any man, and must take the dead body to Inis Caol. So he took the old white horse and tied a coffin, with the body of the Fear Ruadh in it, on its back. Then they let the horse go and Fin and twelve men of the Fenians of Erin followed it.

When they came to the temple on Inis Caol, Fin and the twelve went in.

There were seats for each man inside. They sat down and rested and then Fin tried to rise but couldn’t. He told the men to rise, but the twelve were fastened to the seats, and the seats to the ground, so that none of them could stand.

“Oh,” said Fin, “I’m afraid there is some evil trick played on us.”

At that moment the Fear Ruadh stood before them, strong and young again. And he cried: “Now is the time for me to avenge my mother and brothers!” Fin now understood it was that third giant who brought the trouble. Then one of the men cried to Fin, “Do something!”

And Fin knew what he could do. He blew the great whistle with his two hands. It was heard by Donogh Kamcosa and Diarmuid O’Duivne.

The Fear Ruadh ran to them and killed three of the men. But before he could touch the fourth, Donogh and Diarmuid were there, and put an end to him. Now all were free, and Fin with the nine men went back home, to their castle south of Ballyshannon.