Not in our time, nor the time of our fathers, but long ago, there lived an old king in Erin. This king had but the one son, and the son had risen up to be a fine strong hero; no man in the kingdom could stand before him in combat.

The queen was dead, and the king was gloomy and bitter in himself because old age was on him. The strength had gone from his limbs, and gladness from his heart. No matter what people said, they could not drive sorrow from him.

One day the king called up his son, and this is what he said to him, “You are of age to marry. We cannot tell how long I’ll be here, and it would cheer and delight me to see your wife; she might be a daughter to me in my last days.”

“I am willing to obey you,” said the son; “but I know no woman that I care for. I have never seen any one that I would marry.”

With that, the old king sent for a druid, and said, “You must tell where my son can find the right bride for himself. You must tell us what woman he should marry.”

“There is but one woman,” said the druid, “who can be the right wife for your son, and she is the youngest daughter of the white-bearded scolog; she is the wisest young woman in the world, and has the most power.”

“Where does her father live, and how are we to settle it?” asked the king of the druid.

“I have no knowledge of the place where that scolog lives,” said the druid, “and there is no one here who knows. Your son must go himself, and walk the world till he finds the young woman. If he finds her and gets her, he’ll have the best bride that ever came to a king’s son.”

“I am willing to go in search of the scolog’s daughter,” said the young man, “and I’ll never stop till I find her.”

With that, he left his father and the druid, and never stopped till he went to his foster-mother and told her the whole story,—told her the wish of his father, and the advice the old druid had given him.

“My three brothers live on the road you must travel,” said the foster-mother; “and the eldest one knows how to find that scolog, but without the friendship of all of them, you’ll not be able to make the journey. I’ll give you something that will gain their good-will for you.”

With that, she went to an inner room, and made three cakes of flour and baked them. When the three were ready, she brought them out, and gave them to the young man.

“When you come to my youngest brother’s castle,” said she, “he will rush at you to kill you, but do you strike him on the breast with one of the cakes; that minute he’ll be friendly, and give you good entertainment. The second brother and the eldest will meet you like the youngest.”

On the following morning, the king’s son left a blessing with his foster-mother, took one for the road from her, and went away carrying the three cakes with him. He travelled that day with great swiftness over hills and through valleys, past great towns and small villages, and never stopped nor stayed till he came in the evening to a very large castle. In he went, and inside was a woman before him.

“God save you!” said he to the woman.

“God save yourself!” said she; “and will you tell me what brought you the way, and where are you going?”

“I came here,” said the king’s son, “to see the giant of this castle, and to speak with him.”

“Be said by me,” replied the woman, “and go away out of this without waiting for the giant.”

“I will not go without seeing him,” said the king’s son. “I have never set eyes on a giant, and I’ll see this one.”

“I pity you,” said the woman; “your time is short in this life. You’ll not be long without seeing the giant, and it’s not much you’ll see in this world after setting eyes on him; and it would be better for you to take a drink of wine to give you strength before he comes.”

The king’s son had barely swallowed the wine when he heard a great noise beyond the castle.

“Fee, faw, foh!” roared some one, in a thundering voice.

The king’s son looked out; and what should he see but the giant with a shaggy goat going out in front of him and another coming on behind, a dead hag above on his shoulder, a great hog of a wild boar under his left arm, and a yellow flea on the club which he held in his right hand before him.

“I don’t know will I blow you into the air or put my foot on you,” said the giant, when he set eyes on the king’s son. With that, he threw his load to the ground, and was making at his visitor to kill him when the young man struck the giant on the breast with one of the three cakes which he had from the foster-mother.

That minute the giant knew who was before him, and called out, “Isn’t it the fine welcome I was giving my sister’s son from Erin?”

With that, he changed entirely, and was so glad to see the king’s son that he didn’t know what to do for him or where to put him. He made a great feast that evening; the two ate and drank with contentment and delight. The giant was so pleased with the king’s son that he took him to his own bed. He wasn’t three minutes in the bed when he was sound asleep and snoring. With every breath that the giant took in, he drew the king’s son into his mouth and as far as the butt of his tongue; with every breath that he sent out, he drove him to the rafters of the castle, and the king’s son was that way going up and down between the bed and the roof until daybreak, when the giant let a breath out of him, and closed his mouth; next moment the king’s son was down on his lips.

“What are you doing to me?” cried the giant.

“Nothing,” said the king’s son; “but you didn’t let me close an eye all the night. With every breath you let out of you, you drove me up to the rafters; and with every breath you took in, you drew me into your mouth and as far as the butt of your tongue.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“How could I wake you when time failed me to do it?”

“Oh, then, sister’s son from Erin,” said the giant, “it’s the poor night’s rest I gave you; but if you had a bad bed, you must have a good breakfast.”

With that, the giant rose, and the two ate the best breakfast that could be had out of Erin.

After breakfast, the king’s son took the giant’s blessing with him, and left his own behind. He travelled all that day with great speed and without halt or rest, till he came in the evening to the castle of the second giant. In front of the door was a pavement of sharp razors, edges upward, a pavement which no man could walk on. Long, poisonous needles, set as thickly as bristles in a brush, were fixed, points downward, under the lintel of the door, and the door was low.

The king’s son went in with one start over the razors and under the needles, without grazing his head or cutting his feet. When inside, he saw a woman before him.

“God save you!” said the king’s son.

“God save yourself!” said the woman.

The same conversation passed between them then as passed between himself and the woman in the first castle.

“God help you!” said the woman, when she heard his story. “’Tis not long you’ll be alive after the giant comes. Here’s a drink of wine to strengthen you.”

Barely had he the wine swallowed when there was a great noise behind the castle, and the next moment the giant came in with a thundering and rattling.

“Who is this that I see?” asked he, and with that, he sprang at the stranger to put the life out of him; but the king’s son struck him on the breast with the second cake which he got from his foster-mother. That moment the giant knew him, and called out, “A strange welcome I had for you, sister’s son from Erin, but you’ll get good treatment from me now.”

The giant and the king’s son made three parts of that night. One part they spent in telling tales, the second in eating and drinking, and the third in sound, sweet slumber.

Next morning the young man went away after breakfast, and never stopped till he came to the castle of the third giant; and a beautiful castle it was, thatched with the down of cotton grass, the roof was as white as milk, beautiful to look at from afar or near by. The third giant was as angry at meeting him as the other two; but when he was struck in the breast with the third cake, he was as kind as the best man could be.

When they had taken supper together, the giant said to his sister’s son, “Will you tell me what journey you are on?”

“I will, indeed,” said the king’s son; and he told his whole story from beginning to end.

“It is well that you told me,” said the giant, “for I can help you; and if you do what I tell, you’ll finish your journey in safety. At midday to-morrow you’ll come to a lake; hide in the rushes that are growing at one side of the water. You’ll not be long there when twelve swans will alight near the rushes and take the crests from their heads; with that, the swan skins will fall from them, and they will rise up the most beautiful women that you have ever set eyes on. When they go in to bathe, take the crest of the youngest, put it in your bosom next the skin, take the eleven others and hold them in your hand. When the young women come out, give the eleven crests to their owners; but when the twelfth comes, you’ll not give her the crest unless she carries you to her father’s castle in Ardilawn Dreeachta (High Island of Enchantment). She will refuse, and say that strength fails her to carry you, and she will beg for the crest. Be firm, and keep it in your bosom; never give it up till she promises to take you. She will do that when she sees there is no help for it.”

Next morning the king’s son set out after breakfast, and at midday he was hidden in the rushes. He was barely there when the swans came. Everything happened as the giant had said, and the king’s son followed his counsels.

When the twelve swans came out of the lake, he gave the eleven crests to the older ones, but kept the twelfth, the crest of the youngest, and gave it only when she promised to carry him to her father’s. The moment she put the crest on her head, she was in love with the king’s son. When she came in sight of the island, however much she loved him when they started from the lakeside, she loved him twice as much now. She came to the ground at some distance from the castle, and said to the young man at parting,—

“Thousands of kings’ sons and champions have come to give greeting to my father at the door of his castle, but every man of them perished. You will be saved if you obey me. Stand with your right foot inside the threshold and your left foot outside; put your head under the lintel. If your head is inside, my father will cut it from your shoulders; if it is outside, he will cut it off also. If it is under the lintel when you cry ‘God save you!’ he’ll let you go in safety.”

They parted there; she went to her own place and he went to the scolog’s castle, put his right foot inside the threshold, his left foot outside, and his head under the lintel. “God save you!” called he to the scolog.

“A blessing on you!” cried the scolog, “but my curse on your teacher. I’ll give you lodgings to-night, and I’ll come to you myself in the morning;” and with that he sent a servant with the king’s son to a building outside. The servant took a bundle of straw with some turf and potatoes, and, putting these down inside the door, said, “Here are bed, supper, and fire for you.”

The king’s son made no use of food or bed, and he had no need of them, for the scolog’s daughter came soon after, spread a cloth, took a small bundle from her pocket, and opened it. That moment the finest food and drink were there before them.

The king’s son ate and drank with relish, and good reason he had after the long journey. When supper was over, the young woman whittled a small shaving from a staff which she brought with her; and that moment the finest bed that any man could have was there in the room.

“I will leave you now,” said she; “my father will come early in the morning to give you a task. Before he comes, turn the bed over; ’twill be a shaving again, and then you can throw it into the fire. I will make you a new bed to-morrow.”

With that, she went away, and the young man slept till daybreak. Up he sprang, then turned the bed over, made a shaving of it, and burned it. It was not long till the scolog came, and this is what he said to the king’s son, “I have a task for you to-day, and I hope you will be able to do it. There is a lake on my land not far from this, and a swamp at one side of it. You are to drain that lake and dry the swamp for me, and have the work finished this evening; if not, I will take the head from you at sunset. To drain the lake, you are to dig through a neck of land two miles in width; here is a good spade, and I’ll show you the place where you’re to use it.”

The king’s son went with the scolog, who showed the ground, and then left him.

“What am I to do?” said the king’s son. “Sure, a thousand men couldn’t dig that land out in ten years, and they working night and day; how am I to do it between this and sunset?”

However it was, he began to dig; but if he did, for every sod he threw out, seven sods came in, and soon he saw that, in place of mending his trouble, ’twas making it worse he was. He cast aside the spade then, sat down on the sod heap, and began to lament. He wasn’t long there when the scolog’s daughter came with a cloth in her hand and the small bundle in her pocket.

“Why are you lamenting there like a child?” asked she of the king’s son.

“Why shouldn’t I lament when the head will be taken from me at sunset?”

“’Tis a long time from this to sunset. Eat your breakfast first of all; see what will happen then,” said she. Taking out the little bundle, she put down before him the best breakfast a man could have. While he was eating, she took the spade, cut out one sod, and threw it away. When she did that, every spadeful of earth in the neck of land followed the first spadeful; the whole neck of land was gone, and before midday there wasn’t a spoonful of water in the lake or the swamp,—the whole place was dry.

“You have your head saved to-day, whatever you’ll do to-morrow,” said she, and she left him.

Toward evening the scolog came, and, meeting the king’s son, cried out, “You are the best man that ever came the way, or that ever I expected to look at.”

The king’s son went to his lodging. In the evening the scolog’s daughter came with supper, and made a bed for him as good as the first one. Next morning the king’s son rose at daybreak, destroyed his bed, and waited to see what would happen.

The scolog came early, and said, “I have a field outside, a mile long and a mile wide, with a very tall tree in the middle of it. Here are two wedges, a sharp axe, and a fine new drawing knife. You are to cut down the tree, and make from it barrels to cover the whole field. You are to make the barrels and fill them with water before sunset, or the head will be taken from you.”

The king’s son went to the field, faced the tree, and gave it a blow with his axe; but if he did, the axe bounded back from the trunk, struck him on the forehead, stretched him on the flat of his back, and raised a lump on the place where it hit him. He gave three blows, was served each time in the same way, and had three lumps on his forehead. He was rising from the third blow, the life almost gone from him, and he crying bitterly, when the scolog’s daughter came with his breakfast. While he was eating the breakfast, she struck one little chip from the tree; that chip became a barrel, and then the whole tree turned into barrels, which took their places in rows, and covered the field. Between the rows there was just room for a man to walk. Not a barrel but was filled with water. From a chip she had in her hand, the young woman made a wooden dipper, from another chip she made a pail, and said to the king’s son,—

“You’ll have these in your two hands, and be walking up and down between the rows of barrels, putting a little water into this and a little into that barrel. When my father comes, he will see you at the work and invite you to the castle to-night, but you are not to go with him. You will say that you are content to lodge to-night where you lodged the other nights.” With that, she went away, and the king’s son was going around among the barrels pouring a little water into one and another of them, when the scolog came.

“You have the work done,” said he, “and you must come to the castle for the night.”

“I am well satisfied to lodge where I am, and to sleep as I slept since I came here,” said the young man, and the scolog left him.

The young woman brought the supper, and gave a fresh bed. Next morning the scolog came the third time, and said, “Come with me now; I have a third task for you.” With that, the two went to a quarry.

“Here are tools,” said the scolog, pointing to a crowbar, a pickaxe, a trowel, and every implement used in quarrying and building. “You are to quarry stones to-day, and build between this and sunset the finest and largest castle in the world, with outhouses and stables, with cellars and kitchens. There must be cooks, with men and women to serve; there must be dishes and utensils of every kind and furniture of every description; not a thing is to be lacking, or the head will go from you this evening at sunset.”

The scolog went home; and the king’s son began to quarry with crowbar and pickaxe, and though he worked hard, the morning was far gone when he had three small pieces of stone quarried. He sat down to lament.

“Why are you lamenting this morning?” asked the scolog’s daughter, who came now with his breakfast.

“Why shouldn’t I lament when the head will be gone from me this evening? I am to quarry stones, and build the finest castle in the world before sunset. Ten thousand men couldn’t do the work in ten years.”

“Take your breakfast,” said the young woman; “you’ll see what to do after that.”

While he was eating, she quarried one stone; and the next moment every stone in the quarry that was needed took its place in the finest and largest castle ever built, with outhouses and cellars and kitchens. A moment later, all the people were there, men and women, with utensils of all kinds. Everything was finished but a small spot at the principal fireplace.

“The castle is ready,” said the scolog’s daughter; “your head will stay with you to-day, and there are no more tasks before you at present. Here is a trowel and mortar; you will be finishing this small spot at the fire when my father comes. He will invite you to his castle to-night, and you are to go with him this time. After dinner, he will seat you at a table, and throw red wheat on it from his pocket. I have two sisters older than I am; they and I will fly in and alight on the table in the form of three pigeons, and we’ll be eating the wheat; my father will tell you to choose one of his three daughters to marry. You’ll know me by this: there will be a black quill in one of my wings. I’ll show it; choose me.”

All happened as the scolog’s daughter said; and when the king’s son was told to make his choice in the evening, he chose the pigeon that he wanted. The three sprang from the table, and when they touched the floor, they were three beautiful women. A dish priest and a wooden clerk were brought to the castle, and the two were married that evening.

A month passed in peace and enjoyment; but the king’s son wished to go back now to Erin to his father. He told the wife what he wanted; and this is what she said to him, “My father will refuse you nothing. He will tell you to go, though he doesn’t wish to part with you. He will give you his blessing; but this is all pretence, for he will follow us to kill us. You must have a horse for the journey, and the right horse. He will send a man with you to three fields. In the first field are the finest horses that you have ever laid eyes on; take none of them. In the second field are splendid horses, but not so fine as in the first field; take none of these either. In the third field, in the farthest corner, near the river, is a long-haired, shaggy, poor little old mare; take that one. The old mare is my mother. She has great power, but not so much as my father, who made her what she is, because she opposed him. I will meet you beyond the hill, and we shall not be seen from the castle.”

The king’s son brought the mare; and when they mounted her, wings came from her sides, and she was the grandest steed ever seen. Away she flew over mountains, hills, and valleys, till they came to the seashore, and then they flew over the sea.

When the servant man went home, and the scolog knew what horse they had chosen, he turned himself and his two daughters into red fire, and shot after the couple. No matter how swiftly the mare moved, the scolog travelled faster, and was coming up. When the three reached the opposite shore of the sea, the daughter saw her father coming, and turned the mare into a small boat, the king’s son into a fisherman, and made a fishing-rod of herself. Soon the scolog came, and his two daughters with him.

“Have you seen a man and a woman passing the way riding on a mare?” asked he of the fisherman.

“I have,” said the fisherman. “You’ll soon overtake them.”

On went the scolog; and he never stopped till he raced around the whole world, and came back to his own castle.

“Oh, then, we were the fools,” said the scolog to his daughters. “Sure, they were the fisherman, the boat, and the rod.”

Off they went a second time in three balls of red fire; and they were coming near again when the scolog’s youngest daughter made a spinning-wheel of her mother, a bundle of flax of herself, and an old woman of her husband. Up rushed the scolog, and spoke to the spinner, “Have you seen a mare pass the way and two on her back?” asked he.

“I have, indeed,” said the old woman; “and she is not far ahead of you.”

Away rushed the scolog; and he never stopped till he raced around the whole world, and came back to his own castle a second time.

“Oh, but we were the fools!” said the scolog. “Sure, they were the old woman with the spinning-wheel and the flax, and they are gone from us now; for they are in Erin, and we cannot take our power over the border, nor work against them unless they are outside of Erin. There is no use in our following them; we might as well stay where we are.”

The scolog and his daughters remained in the castle at Ardilawn of Enchantment; but the king’s son rode home on the winged mare, with his wife on a pillion behind him.

When near the castle of the old king in Erin, the couple dismounted, and the mare took her own form of a woman. She could do that in Erin. The three never stopped till they went to the old king. Great was the welcome before them; and if ever there was joy in a castle, there was joy then in that one.