As he pranced and trampled along the weedy ledges, he sang snatches of an old rune—the lost rune of the MacCodrums of Uist. The seals on the rocks crouched spell-bound; those slow-swimming in the water stared with brown unwinking eyes, with their small ears strained against the sound: It is I, Mànus MacCodrum, I am telling you that, you, Anndra of my blood, And you, Neil my grandfather, and you, and you, and you! Ay, ay, Mànus my name is, Mànus MacMànus! It is I myself, and no other. Your brother, O Seals of the Sea! Give me blood of the red fish, And a bite of the flying _sgadan_: The green wave on my belly, And the foam in my eyes! I am your bull-brother, O Bulls of the Sea, Bull—better than any of you, snarling bulls! Come to me, mate, seal of the soft, furry womb, White am I still, though red shall I be, Red with the streaming red blood if any dispute me! Aoh, aoh, aoh, arò, arò, ho-rò! A man was I, a seal am I, My fangs churn the yellow foam from my lips: Give way to me, give way to me, Seals of the Sea; Give way, for I am fëy of the sea And the sea-maiden I see there, And my name, true, is Mànus MacCodrum, The bull-seal that was a man, Arà! Arà! By this time he was close upon the great black seal, which was still monotonously swaying its gory head, with its sightless eyes rolling this way and that. The sea-folk seemed fascinated. None moved, even when the dancer in the moonshine trampled upon them. When he came within arm-reach he stopped. “Are you the Ceann-Cinnidh?” he cried. “Are you the head of this clan of the sea-folk?” The huge beast ceased its swaying. Its curled lips moved from its fangs. “Speak, Seal, if there’s no curse upon you! Maybe, now, you’ll be Anndra himself, the brother of my father! Speak! _H’st—are you hearing that music on the shore?_ ’Tis the ‘Dàn-nan-Ròn’! Death o’ my soul, it’s the ‘Dàn-nan-Ròn’! “Aha, ’tis Gloom Achanna out of the Grave. Back, beast, and let me move on!” With that, seeing the great bull did not move, he struck it full in the face with clenched fist. There was a hoarse, strangling roar, and the seal champion was upon him with lacerating fangs. Mànus swayed this way and that. All he could hear now was the snarling and growling and choking cries of the maddened seals. As he fell, they closed in upon him. His screams wheeled through the night like mad birds. With desperate fury he struggled to free himself. The great bull pinned him to the rock; a dozen others tore at his white flesh, till his spouting blood made the rocks scarlet in the white shine of the moon.