The fiery Oscar could bear this no longer. He rushed towards Conan Mail;
but Conan, terrified at his vengeful look, ran in amongst the Fena with
great outcry, beseeching them to save him from the rage of Oscar. We
straightway confronted the young hero, and checked him in his headlong
career; and after much ado, we soothed his anger and made peace between
him and Conan.
When quietness was restored, Kylta asked Finn how this dread evil had
befallen him, who was the enchanter, and whether there was any hope of
restoring him to his own shape. Finn told him that it was the daughter
of Culand the smith who had transformed him by her spells. And then he
recounted how she had lured him to swim in the lake, and how, when he
came forth, he was turned into a withered old man.
We now made a framework litter of slender poles, and, placing our king
on it, we lifted him tenderly on our shoulders. And, turning from the
lake, we marched slowly up-hill till we came to the fairy palace of
Slieve Cullinn, where we knew the daughter of Culand had her dwelling
deep under ground.[19] Here we set him down, and the whole troop began
at once to dig, determined to find the enchantress in her cave-palace,
and to take vengeance on her if she did not restore our chief.
For three days and three nights we dug, without a moment's rest or
pause, till at length we reached her hollow dwelling; when she,
affrighted at the tumult and at the vengeful look of the heroes,
suddenly started forth from the cave and stood before us. She held in
her hand a drinking-horn of red gold, which was meant for the king. Yet
she appeared unwilling, and held it back, notwithstanding the
threatening looks of the Fena. But, happening to cast her eyes on the
graceful and manly youth, Oscar, she was moved with such admiration and
love for him that she wavered no longer, but placed the fairy
drinking-horn in the hands of the king. No sooner had he drunk from it,
than his own shape and features returned, save only that his hair
remained of a silvery grey.
When we gazed on our chief in his own graceful and manly form, we were
all pleased with the soft, silvery hue of the grey hairs. And, though
the enchantress appeared ready to restore this also, Finn himself told
her that it pleased him as it pleased the others, and that he chose to
remain grey for the rest of his life.
When the king had drunk from the horn, he passed it to Mac Reth, who
drank from it in like manner and gave it to Dering. Dering, after
drinking, was about to hand it to the next, when it gave a sudden twist
out of his hand, and darted into the loose earth at our feet, where it
sank out of sight. We ran at once to recover it; but, though we turned
up the earth deeply all round, we were not able to find the
drinking-horn. This was a disappointment that vexed us exceedingly, for
if we had all drunk from it, we should have been gifted with a
foreknowledge of future events.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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