Making no delay, Dermat set out to walk across the plain. He had not
been long walking when he saw, right before him, a great tree laden with
fruit, overtopping all the other trees of the plain. It was surrounded
at a little distance by a circle of pillar-stones; and one stone, taller
than the others, stood in the centre near the tree. Beside this
pillar-stone was a spring well, with a large, round pool as clear as
crystal; and the water bubbled up in the centre, and flowed away towards
the middle of the plain in a slender stream.
Dermat was glad when he saw the well; for he was hot and thirsty after
climbing up the cliff. He stooped down to take a drink; but before his
lips touched the water, he heard the heavy tread of a body of warriors,
and the loud clank of arms, as if a whole host were coming straight down
on him. He sprang to his feet and looked round; but the noise ceased in
an instant, and he could see nothing.
After a little while he stooped again to drink; and again, before he had
wet his lips, he heard the very same sounds, nearer and louder than
before. A second time he leaped to his feet; and still he saw no one.
He knew not what to think of this; and as he stood wondering and
perplexed, he happened to cast his eyes on the tall pillar-stone that
stood on the brink of the well; and he saw on its top a large, beautiful
drinking-horn, chased with gold and enamelled with precious stones.
"Now surely," said Dermat, "I have been doing wrong; it is, no doubt,
one of the virtues of this well that it will not let any one drink of
its waters except from the drinking-horn."
So he took down the horn, dipped it into the well, and drank without
hindrance, till he had slaked his thirst.
Scarcely had he taken the horn from his lips, when he saw a tall
wizard-champion[CV.] coming towards him from the east, clad in a
complete suit of mail, and fully armed with shield and helmet, sword and
spear. A beautiful scarlet mantle hung over his armour, fastened at his
throat by a golden brooch; and a broad circlet of sparkling gold was
bended in front across his forehead, to confine his yellow hair, and
keep it from being blown about by the wind.
As he came nearer, he increased his pace, moving with great strides;
and Dermat now observed that he looked very wrathful. He offered no
greeting, and showed not the least courtesy; but addressed Dermat in a
rough, angry voice--
"Surely, Dermat O'Dyna, Erin of the green plains should be wide enough
for you; and it contains abundance of clear, sweet water in its crystal
springs and green bordered streams, from which you might have drunk your
fill. But you have come into my island without my leave, and you have
taken my drinking-horn, and have drunk from my well; and this spot you
shall never leave till you have given me satisfaction for the insult."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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