They were commanded by thirty-six chiefs, each having his own ship with his family and his followers. Two of the company are said to have perished on the way. One of the sons of Miled, having climbed to the masthead of his vessel to look out for the coast of Ireland, fell into the sea and was drowned. The other was Skena, wife of the poet Amergin, son of Miled, who died on the way. The Milesians buried her when they landed, and called the place “Inverskena” after her; this was the ancient name of the Kenmare River in Co. Kerry. “It was on a Thursday, the first of May, and the seventeenth day of the moon, that the sons of Miled arrived in Ireland. Partholan also landed in Ireland on the first of May, but on a different day of the week and of the moon; and it was on the first day of May, too, that the pestilence came which in the space of one week destroyed utterly his race. The first of May was sacred to Beltené, one of the names of the god of Death, the god who gives life to men and takes it away from them again. Thus it was on the feast day of this god that the sons of Miled began their conquest of Ireland.”(106) *The Poet Amergin* When the poet Amergin set foot upon the soil of Ireland it is said that he chanted a strange and mystical lay: “I am the Wind that blows over the sea, I am the Wave of the Ocean; I am the Murmur of the billows; I am the Ox of the Seven Combats; I am the Vulture upon the rock; I am a Ray of the Sun; I am the fairest of Plants; I am a Wild Boar in valour; I am a Salmon in the Water; I am a Lake in the plain; I am the Craft of the artificer; I am a Word of Science; I am the Spear-point that gives battle; I am the god that creates in the head of man the fire of thought. Who is it that enlightens the assembly upon the mountain,if not I? Who telleth the ages of the moon, if not I? “Who showeth the place where the sun goes to rest, if not I? De Jubainville, whose translation I have in the main followed, observes upon this strange utterance: “There is a lack of order in this composition, the ideas, fundamental and subordinate, are jumbled together without method; but there is no doubt as to the meaning: the _filé_ [poet] is the Word of Science, he is the god who gives to man the fire of thought; and as science is not distinct from its object, as God and Nature are but one, the being of the _filé_ is mingled with the winds and the waves, with the wild animals and the warrior’s arms.”(107) Two other poems are attributed to Amergin, in which he invokes the land and physical features of Ireland to aid him: “I invoke the land of Ireland, Shining, shining sea; Fertile, fertile Mountain; Gladed, gladed wood! Abundant river, abundant in water! Fish-abounding lake!”(108) *The Judgment of Amergin*