By Loch and by Lin (3 page)

“I will walk on my shanks, then, and fight on them, too, if I must. And I will go after this giant of the cup. He shall not be rid of me until I have my legs again,” said the Amadhain Mhor. Then up he got and stumped along through the glen, walking on his knees, following the giant of the jeweled cup. But the giant sped before him, and soon was hidden in the fog.

“Let us go no farther lest worse befall us,” pleaded Gealmhin. “Let us return to the ship and sail back to our own land.”

“I shall get my legs back first,” said the Amadhain Mhor, “or there will be no man in all the world who will have two legs to walk on.”

They came to the end of the glen and found themselves upon a wide stretch of moorland upon which the sun shone brightly. The sound of hunting came from the wood that grew at the end of the glen. Presently a stag came racing out of the wood and over the moor. The Amadhain Mhor seized his throwing spear and cast it at the deer as it sped by. The spear pierced the stag through its two sides and it fell dead. Then a fine great stag-hound, white-coated and red-eared, wearing a golden collar, came baying out of the wood in pursuit of the deer. The Amadhain Mhor reached out and caught it by its golden collar as it raced toward him. He wove a leash of strong young hazel withes and looped it through the staghound's collar. He gave the leash to Gealmhin, and bade her hold it fast.

“Stay here and sing to me,” the Amadhain Mhor told the white staghound, “till one comes from the hunt for you.”

Out of the wood came a giant huntsman. So handsome a man the Amadhain Mhor had never seen before. The giant walked in splendor, wearing a cloak and a helmet of the purest gold. His hand rested on the golden hilt of a sword that hung at his left side. On his right arm he bore a golden shield and in his right hand he carried a golden crossbow and two throwing spears.

The sun's rays, glancing from the gold cloak and helmet, surrounded the handsome giant with shafts of golden shining light. He came striding down from the glen and halted beside the Amadhain Mhor.

“My stag that you have slain and my hound that you have caught are mine by right,” said the giant in the cloak of gold. “I have come to claim them, and send the hound back to the chase.”

“Never again shall you boast that you are the master of the great white staghound,” said the Amadhain Mhor. “The hound remains with me. As for the deer I have slain, I shall keep that, too.”

“If you will not give up the hound and the stag of your own free will, then you will have to fight for them,” the golden giant said. “In all the days of my life, I have never been defeated, and it is not my intention that you will beat me now.”

“In all the days of my life,” replied the Amadhain Mhor, “I have fought no fight that I have not won. You are the master of the hunt and you have hounds galore. This one you can easily spare. But though I am a poor lamester, I do not fear you. All I have is the stag I have slain and the hound I have caught, and to keep them I will fight you, if that is your desire.”

Then strength against strength, they threw themselves into the struggle, wrestling back and forth across the moor. The earth was rocked by their strife, rocks bounded from their places and trees bowed down. But when the battle was done, the golden giant lay defeated. The Amadhain Mhor was the victor, and he had won the right to keep the white staghound and the deer. The golden giant rose from the ground and said to the Amadhain Mhor, “The white staghound is yours, and the deer to you, also! My heart is downcast, for the hound is dear to me, and I have never tasted defeat before. But I am not ill-pleased that I was beaten by an opponent as worthy as yourself, who despite the lack of his two legs had the courage to strive against me. Let us be foes no longer, but clasp hands in friendship. You and your fair wife shall come with me to my house and be my guests. Food, clothing, and shelter shall be provided for you there, and all other things you desire.”

Said Gealmhin, the delicate fair one, “This giant shows a noble spirit in his defeat. Can you do less, O Amadhain Mhor? I beg of you, let him have back the hound. You will miss it less than he, who loves it well.”

Then said the Amadhain Mhor, “Your wisdom, Gealmhin, is greater than my own. Would I not have my two legs now, if I had heeded your warning in the glen? Since it is your wish, he shall have back the white staghound.”

The three went on together. In the hollow of his shield the giant carried Gealmhin, the delicate fair one, and over his shoulders, the stag, while the white-coated, red-eared staghound paced between his master and the Amadhain Mhor.

The moor rose to a hill and at the top they looked down upon a pleasant valley. At the side of the vale there stood a citadel of gold. Every spire and turret and tower sent shafts of shining light upward toward the sun.

“What is this place of wonders?” cried the Amadhain Mhor. “Who dwells within its walls?”

“This is the City of Gold,” said the giant. “It is my house, and within its walls there dwells no men of guile, but only myself and my beautiful wife.

“You must see my wife to understand how great her beauty is,” said the golden giant. “Her skin is like the snow at its first falling, her mouth a rose lying on the snow. Her eyes are twin lakes reflecting the blue of the heavens, and in her heart dwells innocence itself. Each day, while hunting, I go through the glen of enchantment. It is full of glamour, and witches in the guise of fair women beckon to me and seek to entice me. All their wiles are useless and only make me value more my beautiful young wife.”

They came down to the City of Gold, and a lady blessed with great beauty, the wife of the golden giant, came forth to greet her husband and welcome his guests. “Who is this fair lady?” she asked. “And who is the big man you have brought to our house?”

“This is the Amadhain Mhor,” said her husband. “And this lady is Gealmhin, the delicate fair one, who is his wife. All the men of the world are at the beck and call of this great warrior, and I myself among the rest.”

“You tell me a wonderful thing!” said the beautiful lady. “But if the men of the world are at his command, how was it that he let his legs go with them?”

“O wife, I give you my word,” said the giant. “The men of the world are indeed at his beck and call. And legs or no legs, I, who have never before known defeat, have myself been vanquished by his might! If he had not met with witchcraft in the enchanted glen, his legs would not be gone. But come! The Amadhain Mhor and I have clasped hands and are foes no longer, and he and fair Gealmhin are friends in my house.”

“It is enough,” said the beautiful lady. “If they are your friends, they are mine also.” She smiled upon them sweetly, and kindly led them into the house. She brought food to them and drink, and bade them refresh themselves, and rest.

“There is no match in all the world for this lady's beauty!” said the Amadhain Mhor.

“Her beauty is greater because it goes hand-in-hand with kindness,” replied Gealmhin, the delicate fair one, who, though young, was wise.

Then spoke the golden giant. “Now I shall return to my hunting, to the moorland and the enchanted glen. Remain here, O Amadhain Mhor, my friend, to watch over my house, my wife, and my treasure of gold. While I am out, I lay it upon you to let no man enter, but if, by chance, one should come in, see to it that he does not go out again!”

“I give to you my promise that it shall be done as you say,” said the Amadhain Mhor.

The golden giant went off to the chase, taking with him his white staghound. The beautiful lady settled herself in her tall golden chair by the window to wait for her husband's return, while the Amadhain Mhor and Gealmhin, the delicate fair one, rested on a cushioned bench by the fire.

“O Gealmhin,” said the Amadhain Mhor. “The mists of the enchanted glen have not yet cleared away from my eyes. My head is heavy. I will lie down for a minute or two and rest.”

He put his head down in her lap and at once fell asleep. While he slumbered a tall brown giant came in from the road and gave a kiss to the golden giant's wife. The beautiful lady made no protest, but smiled, and lowering her eyes, sat quietly in her tall golden chair.

Fair Gealmhin beheld the giant come in and leaned to her husband's ear. “Wake up! O Amadhain Mhor,” said she. “Unlucky your sleep has been. A warrior in brown came in and kissed the golden giant's wife.”

The Amadhain Mhor sprang up from the bench and set himself at the door. He struck the posts on either side a blow with his mighty fists. And never a stronger blow was struck by a blacksmith, tinker, or wright than the blows of the Amadhain Mhor. He took his stand and blocked the door and none could pass by him. “Easy it was, O giant in brown, to come in while I slept,” said he. “But you will find it a harder thing to get out again, now I am wide awake.”

The giant seized the Amadhain Mhor to haul him out of the way. “You have not the right and you have not the might to keep me in,” said he. “Move out of the doorway, nor stand in my path when I want to go out!” he cried.

But still the Amadhain Mhor stood firm, like a boulder at the door, and all the brown giant's strength could not prevail to move him out of the way.

“Give up the struggle. I fear you not, and your strength is no match for mine,” cried out the Amadhain Mhor. “And you shall stay in until he who is out comes back to his City of Gold. And when he comes he'll pay you well for the kiss you gave his wife.”

Then the giant in brown, seeing that his strength was useless against the might of the Amadhain Mhor, sought to beguile him.

“Mighty one,” said the brown giant. “I see your wisdom is as great as your strength. I will give you seven chests full of shining gold. I'll give you cattle in herds and good free land, and a castle of your own. You shall have all that, and more, for I will give you my finest cloak, my swiftest hound, and my horse who goes as well on the sea as he does on the land. All these I shall give you, if you will move aside and let me go out.”

“Save your breath and keep your wealth,” said the Amadhain Mhor. “All these things are of no value against the promise I made to the giant of the City of Gold. All your riches would not console me if my honor were lost. You shall stay in, and when the giant comes he'll pay you well for the kiss you gave his wife.”

“As I came through the glen of enchantment,” the brown giant told him, “I met with the giant of the jeweled cup who tricked you out of your legs. He let me have one of your legs lest I needed to bargain with you. I will blow your leg back in place under you, if you will let me out.”

“I'll take the leg and set it in place with my own magic,” said the Amadhain Mhor, and seizing the leg from the giant's hand, he set it beneath him where it belonged.

“You have the leg I offered,” the brown giant said. “It is time now for me to depart.”

“Stay where you are for a little longer,” said the Amadhain Mhor. “I made no bargain with you, but took the leg from you and put it in place myself. Furthermore, my other leg is needed before I walk like other men. If you got one leg from the trickster who stole them, no doubt you got the second. I will have both my legs from you or you will go without your head!”

Then “Help!” and “Mercy!” cried the brown giant as the Amadhain Mhor lunged toward him, driving him before him, until the giant took refuge behind the beautiful lady's chair. “Save me from this Amadhain Mhor!” the brown giant cried. But the lady smiled, and bowed her head and said nothing at all, sitting quietly in her tall golden chair.

“Ho, then!” said the Amadhain Mhor. “If death be a terror to you, hand me over my second leg, or before I can say ‘snipp, snapp!' your head will roll about your feet!”

The brown giant gave up the other leg and the Amadhain Mhor set it beside the first one in its right place. “My two good legs are mine again, and I can walk as other men,” rejoiced the Amadhain Mhor.

“It is time now for me to depart,” said the brown giant with his eye to the door.

The Amadhain Mhor took his stand in the doorway again. “You shall stay in,” said he. “The day will not come when you will go out, till comes the giant of the City of Gold.”

“Oh! Ho!” said the brown giant, laughing, as he threw aside his brown helmet and cloak. “It is I myself who am the giant of the City of Gold! And I am also the giant of the jeweled cup who took away your legs. And I am the brown giant who came in while you slept and kissed the beautiful lady, my wife. Each disguise was assumed that I might test your courage and your honor. O Amadhain Mhor, your renown has been for your might before, but now it shall be for your courage and faithfulness as well. We shall be as brothers henceforward, and you and your wife, Gealmhin, the delicate fair one, shall dwell with me and my wife, the lady blest with beauty, forever in the City of Gold.”

Then the beautiful wife of the golden giant stepped down from her tall golden chair.

“Was it not right that my husband should give me a kiss when he came in?” she said, smiling. “But, then, he could not disguise himself from me.”

Then all four clasped hands, gave love for love, and goodwill for goodwill, and ever after lived together like the fellowship of the Finne.

S dh'imich an sgeul mar sin
.

(And so passeth the old tale away.)

The Tale of the

Lochmaben Harper

THERE was an old harper of Lochmaben town, and he played his harp and played it well, with a

Dum ti tiddely,

Um ti diddely,

Daddely, diddely,

Dee dum do!

His harping brought him such fame that folks from far and near came trooping to hear the tunes of the Lochmaben harper. He'd give them a sad and a sorry song that would make the tears spring to the eye, then in a trice he'd strike up a tune so blithe and gay that heads would be nodding and feet would be tapping, and folks would be laughing and shouting with glee, before their tears had time to dry. Och, aye, a merry old body was he, the harper of Lochmaben town, with his