"I wandered and wandered about there, without knowing where I wandered,
until at last I got into a big bog. The moon was shining as bright as
day, or your fair lady's eyes, sir (with your pardon for mentioning
her), and I looked east and west, and north and south, and every way,
and nothing did I see but bog, bog, bog. I could never find out how I
got into it, and my heart grew cold with fear, for sure and certain I
was that it would be my barrin place. So I sat down upon a stone which,
as good luck would have it, was close by me, and I began to scratch my
head and sing the Ullagon, when all of a sudden the moon grew black, and
I looked up, and saw something for all the world as if it was moving
down between me and it, and I could not tell what it was. Down it came
with a pounce, and looked at me full in the face. And what was it but an
eagle--as fine a one as ever flew from the kingdom of Kerry. So he
looked at me in the face, and says he to me, 'Daniel O'Rourke,' says he,
'how do you do?' 'Very well, I thank you, sir,' says I; 'I hope you're
well,' wondering out of my senses all the time how an eagle came to
speak like a Christian. 'What brings you here, Dan?' says he. 'Nothing
at all, sir,' says I; 'only I wish I was safe home again.' 'Is it out of
the island you want to go, Dan?' says he. ''Tis, sir,' says I; so I up
and told him how I had taken a drop too much, and fell into the water;
how I swam to the island; and how I got into the bog and did not know my
way out of it. 'Dan,' says he, after a minute's thought, 'though it is
very improper for you to get drunk on Lady-day, yet, as you are a decent
sober man, who tends mass well, and never flings stones at me or mine,
nor cries out after us in the fields--my life for yours,' says he; 'so
get up on my back, and grip me well for fear you'd fall off, and I'll
fly you out of the bog.' 'I am afraid,' says I, 'your honour's making
game of me; for who ever heard of riding a-horseback on an eagle
before?' ''Pon the honour of a gentleman,' says he, putting his right
foot on his breast, 'I am quite in earnest; and so, now, either take my
offer or starve in the bog; besides, I see that your weight is sinking
the stone.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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