But no sooner had Cormac and Fionn rallied than they perceived how they were duped, and, raging desperately, they vowed vengeance against the absent pair. Organising a party for pursuit, the jilted lover immediately set out to scour the country. In this search he sent forward advance parties of his swiftest and best men in every direction. Apparently to little purpose at first, for Diarmad was a favourite with his brethren-in-arms, and the peculiar circumstances of the elopement invested it with such an element of romance, and of sympathy on the part of the young heroes, that those in pursuit never could discover the retreat of the lovers. Even if Fionn himself did happen to get on their track, he was thwarted by means of some wonderful stratagem on the part of Diarmad. Such is the outline of “The Pursuit of Diarmad and Grainne,” a pursuit which extended all over Erin. In the course of its narration in the original a large amount of curious information on social manners, ancient tales, superstitions, topography, and the natural products of different parts, is introduced. The absconding pair were caught at last, but the Fenian heroes would not permit Fionn to punish Diarmad. Ultimately, the chief had his own peculiar revenge. When at the hunt of the magic boar Diarmad killed that formidable quarry, and escaped scatheless, with sinister intention Fionn asked him to measure its length against the bristles. In doing so Diarmad’s foot, his only vulnerable part, was pierced by one of the poisonous points. And although Fionn could have restored him by a draught from his life-giving shell, he would not. Thus died the hapless Diarmad O’Duibhne, an officer of fine person and most fascinating manners. Famous in family annals too, for from him the Campbells trace their descent. Not only does he figure in their genealogical tree,[25] but the Dukes of Argyll still have the boar’s head on their coat-of-arms. The “Lay of Diarmad” has for generations been very popular. There are various versions of it. Pattison’s English rendering is mainly from the text in Maccallum’s collection. Fionn afterwards repenting that he did not save his young rival, lamented thus:— Alas, that, said Fionn, for a woman I’ve slain my own sister’s son— For an ill woman slain him! too noble To be slain for the loveliest one. Sad stood the heroes beside thee, O youth of the noble race; And dim grew the eyes of each maiden When the mould went over thy face. And now like the tree, I stand lonely— Wither’d and wasted and sear; With the rude howling tempest to tear me, Where the shade of no green bough is near.