A few years after the death of Dermot the old trouble between the High King of Tara and the Fenians arose again. Cormack was dead, but his son was even more bitter against the army. He made up his mind that he would destroy the forces entirely.

The new ruler realized that he could never raise a sufficient force to meet the Fenians in battle. He determined upon a less dangerous, though less honorable, method. He endeavored to promote a quarrel between two factions, so that the groups would destroy themselves. The High King, you see, was a man of wisdom.

This plan was an easy one to accomplish. You have not forgotten that Gaul of Morna had held the leadership of the Fenians for the ten years between the death of Cool and the arrival of Finn. He had been loyal to Finn all through the later years, but beneath his loyalty ran a thin current of envy. He was the older man of the two. It was easy to tell him that, because of his age, he should be chief. Envy is a poison that works silently, but it works harder when it is thought about. The High King gradually convinced Gaul that it would be to his interest to quarrel with Finn and take part of the army with him.

Finn’s treatment of Dermot shows us that he became more revengeful in his later years. He did not take part in so many adventures requiring him to use his strength, so he had more time to think over what people had done to him. He never forgot that it was Gaul who had given his father his mortal wound. As long as Gaul was his faithful follower, he did not hold this fact against him. But when Gaul began to grow bitter in his dealings with his chief, Finn made the quarreling easy by recalling this fight. Both men were willing to come to blows.

The High King went with Gaul through the ranks of the Fenians and, by promises and bribes, won over a large number. The fact that the High King was on the side of Gaul made it appear to these men that those who were disloyal to Finn would probably be on the winning side. In the end, the two forces were about equal. Then the High King and Gaul moved to attack the forces of Finn.

Finn was sick at heart at the thought that his splendid army was to be cut to pieces by the treacherous plot of the High King. He would gladly have given up his command if that act would have saved the men from fighting among themselves. His knowledge, however, told him that it was the plan of the High King to get the two groups to so weaken themselves that he could gather a force large enough to defeat those left. Finn knew what Gaul did not understand, that he was to be used and later put out of the way.

The forces of Gaul met those of Finn at Gowra, just at evening. In those days no one thought of fighting at night. The two forces built their camps and waited for morning light to give the signal for the combat.

All through the early hours of the night Finn paced his camp and tried to make a plan which would stop the struggle of the next day. If the High King had not been on the side of Gaul, he felt that the trouble would never have occurred. At midnight he left his own camp and went, alone, to the quarters of Gaul and the High King.

These two men were greatly alarmed to wake and find Finn beside them. Both sprang to their feet and seized their weapons. They thought that Finn meant to do away with them by treachery.

“Have no fear,” said Finn. “I have come by myself, and my purpose is to talk, not fight. I have come to see if there is not some way in which we can stop the slaughter of the men of Erin.”

Both men were silent. Finally Gaul spoke, “There is one way,” he said. “You may give up the leadership and tell your men to obey me.”

Finn turned to the High King. “If that will stop the struggle, then I will accept the terms.”

The crafty High King was not pleased. A peace which would leave the Fenians as strong as ever was the last thing he wanted. He pretended to doubt Finn’s word.

“It is but a trick,” he said to Gaul. “Finn would have us believe that he wants peace, so that he may attack us unawares. Tomorrow’s contest shall decide all things which are at stake.”

“Then I make one other proposition to you,” said Finn, addressing the High King. “I will meet you in single combat tomorrow morning. If you best me, you will have a clear field to take my men as your followers. If I prove the better fighter, Gaul and I will be left to decide the leadership.”

The High King had been whispering to some of his men near him. These went out into the darkness before he replied to the challenge.

“I refuse your challenge,” he said, with an attempt to cover his fear with haughtiness. “It would not be fitting that an army leader should meet his king in a single combat.”

“Then I can do no more,” declared Finn. “I must go back and leave the decision to the morrow.”

The High King laughed excitedly. “That you shall not do,” he said. “Our men have been awakened and are between you and your camp. Tonight they will settle your claims for leadership; tomorrow your men will fight without you.”

Finn looked at the forces, now awake and surrounding him. It was the basest kind of treachery. He turned to Gaul of Morna.

“Gaul, you took the vow to be honorable in your dealings. Are you willing that I shall face your army, when I came in peace as a messenger? Are you a party to this treachery?”

“I am not!” cried Gaul. “Never shall it be said that Gaul of Morna knew not how to treat a messenger of the foe. I shall conduct you through our forces, and woe to any man who raises a spear against you!”

“I thank you, Gaul,” said Finn.

Without even glancing at the High King, Finn followed Gaul out into the night. His guide escorted him to the edge of his own camp before turning to go back. Finn made a last appeal to him.

“It grieves me, Gaul, to see this battle take place. I know that the High King but uses you to cause the destruction of the Fenians. I pray you, give up the struggle and come back to us.”

Gaul was deeply moved. “I fear you are right,” he said. “But, right or wrong, I must go on. I have driven my game out into the open. I must capture it or lose the respect of my men.”

Then Gaul went back to his camp.

With the first streaks of morning light, the great battle of Gowra began. The men fought as only Fenians could fight against one another. Finn threw himself into the struggle with reckless bravery, but the late afternoon found him still unwounded. Many a splendid hero went down, Gaul of Morna among them. The High King, however, did not allow the fight to lag when his leader was killed. He took charge of the forces himself.

Finn tried all day to get his monarch into a combat with him, but the High King was too shrewd. He kept clear of any of the stronger fighters of Finn’s forces. It was Oscar, wounded and tired, who finally cornered him and forced him to fight or show his cowardice.

Like a rat in a trap, the High King put up a desperate battle. He was fresh and strong, and so was almost a match for the wounded Oscar. The end came when both men sank to the ground at the same time. Before Finn could reach the side of his grandson, both men were dead.

Then Finn’s mighty heart broke. He looked about the field, where small groups of men still struggled desperately. He determined that the contest should stop. He blew a loud blast on his horn. The men stopped in surprise. Finn’s voice rang out over the field.

“Men of Erin,” he called. “Sad am I that I have lived to see the day when brother fights against brother, friend against friend. Let the fighting cease. Gaul and the High King are dead, and Finn will soon be with you no longer. I care not to live to think over this useless conflict. From now on the Fenians will live only in song and story. Go back to the chase and the pursuits of peace. I command you never to draw sword again unless it be to protect Erin from a foreign foe.”

Then Finn called his servant and bade him bring to him the drinking horn from his camp. This horn he had carried with him all through his later years. It held the magic water which would bring sleep and forgetfulness to any who drank from it. When the horn was brought he drained it to the last drop. Then he bade farewell to his men, took his weapons with him and went into a cave on the hillside to await the sleep that was already stealing over his limbs.

A thousand years rolled by. A new race of people took possession of Erin. Only from the lips of the poets and the bards could one hear of the mighty heroes. Some laugh and say the tales are not true. But the legend is still told among the Irish peasants that Finn still sleeps in his cave on the hill, and that if Ireland ever is invaded again, he will come out and gather his Fenians for battle.