Folklore -- Ireland -- Juvenile literature; Folklore -- Wales -- Juvenile literature
By this time Kai had finished both sword and scabbard, and, stepping
up to the giant's great chair, pretended to hand them to him. But,
as the giant was off his guard, he lifted the sword, and brought it
down on Garnard's neck, so that he cut off his head. Before his
followers could lay hands on Kai and Bedivere, the knights rushed out
upon them, and slew them all. Then, having loaded themselves with
gold and jewels, but above all with the precious sword, they set
forth again for Arthur's palace.
This time they reached it in safety, and, having told their story,
asked the advice of the King as to which of the six remaining quests
they should first undertake. To seek out Mabon, the son of Modron,
was Arthur's decision; and for this undertaking he chose Uriel
because he could understand the speech of both animals and birds, as
well as that of all strange men; and Idwel, because he was Mabon's
kinsman, with Kai and Bedivere, because they were known never to turn
back from any adventure until it was accomplished.
So these four set out upon their quest.
Now, Mabon had been lost so long ago that not the oldest man on the
earth, nor their great-grandfathers before them, had ever heard
anything at all about him. But Idwel remembered that many birds and
beasts live much longer than the oldest man, so they determined to
seek out the oldest of these.
"And who," said they, "could be older than the Ousel of Deepdell?
Let us seek her help."
So they made their way through a great forest till they came to a
shadowy place, where on a small stone sat the Ousel of Deepdell; and
her they implored to tell them if she knew anything of Mabon, son of
Modron, who was taken from between his mother and the wall when he
was only three days old.
"When I first came here," answered the Ousel gravely, "I was but a
fledgling. On this spot where I now sit stood a smith's stone anvil.
Since then no hand has touched it, but every evening I have pecked at
it with my beak as I smoothed my feathers before sleeping. Now all
that remains of it is this little pebble upon which I sit. Yet
through all the years that have passed while this change took place I
have never heard of Mabon, the son of Modron. But do not despair: I
will take you to a race of creatures who were made before me, and
them ye shall inquire of again."
Then she took them to a place where, at the foot of an ancient oak,
lay the Stag of the Fern Brake. Of him they once more asked the
question: "Dost thou know anything of Mabon, son of Modron, parted
from his mother when three days old?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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