Irish Folk Tales (22 page)

Down at the lower end of Inishowen, there was a man who had a lot of cattle and he had a boy hired to herd them. The boy used to take them down to the shore every day to graze. But there was one cow which never ate any grass and was forever down on the sands licking at something or other.

The boy never paid much attention to her, but the farmer noticed that this particular cow was beginning to give more and more milk, far more than the rest of them, so much so, in fact, that there weren’t enough vessels about the place to hold it all.

“What’s that cow eating more than any of the rest of them?” asked the farmer.

“She’s not eating anything at all,” said the boy. “But she’s always down on the sands licking at something or other.”

Down they went to see what the cow was licking and, sure enough, there was Columcille’s coffin sticking up out of the sand on the shore with his name on the lid and orders for him to be buried in Downpatrick. And so it was done.

S
AINT KEVIN

One day in spring before the blossoms were on the trees, a young man grievously afflicted with the falling sickness fancied that an apple would cure him, and the dickens an apple tree at all at all was about the place. But what mattered that to the Saint! He ordered a score of fine yellow pippins to grow upon a willow, and the boy gathered and ate and was cured.

The Saint was one day going up Derrybawn, and he meets a woman that carried five loaves in her apron.

“What have ye there, good woman?” says the Saint.

“I have five stones,” says she.

“If they are stones,” says he, “I pray that they may be bread. And if they are bread,” says he, “I pray that they may be stones.”

So, with that, the woman lets them fall, and sure enough, stones they were, and are to this day.

The Saint managed to get from King O’Toole a grant of the land upon which he built his churches.

The king was old and weak in himself, and took a mightly liking to a goose, a live goose. And in course of time the goose was like the master, old and weak.

So O’Toole sent for his Holiness. And his Holiness went to see what would the pagan—for King O’Toole was a heathen—want with him.

“God save ye,” says the Saint.

“God save ye kindly,” says the king.

“A better answer than I expected,” says the Saint.

“Will ye make my goose young?” says the king.

“What’ll ye give me?” says the Saint.

“What’ll ye ask?” says the king.

“All I’ll ask will be as much of the valley as he’ll fly over,” says the Saint.

“Done,” says the king.

So with that Saint Kevin stoops down, takes up the goose, and flings him up, and away he goes over the lake and all round the Glen, which in course was the Saint’s hereditary property from that day out.

S
AINT FINBAR

Long long ago, before Saint Finbar came to Gougane, the little lake was between the mountains, and on a calm day you would like to be looking at it, the water was so still. At that time there was a small house there and a widow and her son lived in it. They had one cow, and every day the son would mind the cow while his mother was busy around the house.

One day when he went down to the lake, what did he see, instead of the water, but an ugly serpent that was almost as big as one of the hills around. The boy was terrified and he ran home. They didn’t know from where the serpent had come or why she came, so there was great excitement around the place. The serpent remained there and came out every day and swept off anything she met. At last the people of the district were ruined, and were afraid to go outside their doors.

Saint Finbar came to the district and the people begged him to do something for them. They had no great faith in the saint for the parish priest had spent his time trying to banish the serpent. That was good and it wasn’t bad.

One night when the great world was asleep, and the serpent along with them, Saint Finbar went out with two of his friars. He never halted until he reached the lake. He walked around it three times, praying. When he reached the mouth of the lake the third time, he stopped, took out a small bottle of holy water that he had, and sprinkled it three times on the serpent. The serpent shook herself and let out a roar that shook the hills round about. Then she moved from where she was and tore and devoured the land until she came to where Lough Loo is today. She made a bed there for herself. Next morning she moved on again and never stopped till she reached Cork Harbor. There she entered the sea.

Water has filled the track she left behind her, and that’s the River Lee today. The people of the place were so grateful to Saint Finbar that they drew stones and earth and made a small island in the middle of the lake. There he built a monastery.

J
AMES MURRAY AND SAINT MARTIN

There was a small farmer named James Murray, who lived between this and Slieve Mish. He had the grass of seven cows, but though he had the land, he hadn’t stock to put on it; he had but the one cow. Being a poor man, he went to Cork with four firkins of butter for a neighbor. He never thought what day of the month it was until he had the butter sold in the city, and it was Saint Martin’s Eve at the time. Himself and his father before him and his grandfather had always killed something to honor Saint Martin, and when he was in Cork on Saint Martin’s Eve he felt heartsore and could not eat. He walked around and muttered to himself: “I wish to the Almighty God I was at home. My house will be disgraced forever.”