“Why don’t you chew your thumb?”
Finn chewed his thumb and reaching the marrow knew that the old woman in the east was ready to start with torches to find her sons, and burn the dun herself, and that she had a vial of liquid with which she could bring the sons to life; and that nothing could free him from Cat-Head but the old woman’s blood.
After midnight the old hag, enraged at the delay of her sons, started and shot through the air like lightning, more swiftly than her sons. She threw her torches from afar upon the roof of the dun. But Bran as before hurled them into the stream.
Now the old woman circled around in the air looking for her sons. Finn was getting very weak from pain and loss of blood, for Cat-Head was biting at his breast all the time.
Bran called out, “Rouse yourself, O Finn. Use all your power or we are lost! If the old hag gets a drop from the vial upon the bodies of her sons, they will come to life, and then we’re done for.”
Thus roused, Finn with one spring reached the old woman in the air, and swept the bottle from her grasp; which falling upon the ground was emptied.
The old hag gave a scream which was heard all over the world, came to the ground, and closed with Finn. Then followed a battle greater than the world had ever known before that night, or has ever seen since. Water sprang out of grey rocks, cows cast their calves even when they had none, and hard rushes grew soft in the remotest corner of Erin, so desperate was the fighting and so awful, between Finn and the old hag. Finn would have died that night but for Bran.
Just as daylight was coming Finn swept the head off the old woman, caught some of her blood, and rubbed it around Cat-Head, who fell off dead.
He rubbed his own wounds with the blood and was cured; then rubbed some on Bran, who had been singed with the torches, and she was as well as ever. Finn, exhausted with fighting, dropped down and fell asleep.
While he was sleeping the chief steward of the king came to the dun, found it standing safe and sound, and seeing Finn lying there asleep knew that he had saved it. Bran tried to waken Finn, pulled and tugged, but could not rouse him.
The steward went to the king, and said, “I have saved the dun, and I claim the reward.”
“It shall be given you,” answered the king. And straightaway the steward was recognized as the king’s son-in-law, and orders were given to make ready for the wedding.
Bran had listened to what was going on, and when her master woke, exactly at midday, she told him of all that was taking place in the castle of the king.
Finn went to the king, and said, “I have saved your dun, and I claim the reward.”
“Oh,” said the king, “my steward claimed the reward, and it has been given to him.”
“He had nothing to do with saving the dun. I saved it,” said Finn.
“Well,” answered the king, “he is the first man who told me of its safety and claimed the reward.”
“Bring him here. Let me look at him,” said Finn.
He was sent for, and came. “Did you save the king’s dun?” asked Finn. “I did,” said the steward.
“You did not, and take that for your lies,” said Finn; and striking him with the edge of his open hand swept the head off his body, dashing it against the other side of the room, flattening it like paste on the wall.
“You are the man,” said the king to Finn, “who saved the dun; yours is the reward. All the champions, and there is many a man of them, who have failed to save it are in the dungeons of my fortress; their heads must be cut off before the wedding takes place.”
“Will you let me see them?” asked Finn.
“I will,” said the king.
Finn went down to the men, and found the first champions of Erin in the dungeons. “Will you obey me in all things if I save you from death?” said Finn. “We will,” said they. Then he went back to the king and asked:
“Will you give me the lives of these champions of Erin, in place of your daughter’s hand?”
“I will,” said the king.
All the champions were liberated, and left the king’s castle that day. Ever after they followed the orders of Finn, and these were the beginning of his forces and the first of the Fenians of Erin.
LI CHI SLAYS THE SERPENT
China
In Fukien, in the ancient state of Yüeh, stands the Yung mountain range, whose peaks sometimes reach a height of many miles. To the northwest there is a cleft in the mountains once inhabited by a giant serpent seventy or eighty feet long and wider than the span of ten hands. It kept the local people in a state of a constant terror and had already killed many commandants from the capital city and many magistrates and officers of nearby towns. Offerings of oxen and sheep did not appease the monster. By entering men’s dreams and making its wishes known through mediums, it demanded young girls of twelve or thirteen to feast on.
Helpless, the commandant and the magistrates selected daughters of bondmaids or criminals and kept them until the appointed dates. One day in the eighth month of every year, they would deliver a girl to the mouth of the monster’s cave, and the serpent would come out and swallow the victim. This continued for nine years until nine girls had been devoured.
In the tenth year the officials had again begun to look for a girl to hold in readiness for the appointed time. A man of Chianglo county, Li Tan, had raised six daughters and no sons. Chi, his youngest girl, responded to the search for a victim by volunteering. Her parents refused to allow it, but she said, “Dear parents, you have no one to depend on, for having brought forth six daughters and not a single son, it is as if you were childless. I could never compare with Ti Jung of the Han Dynasty, who offered herself as a bondmaid to the emperor in exchange for her father’s life. I cannot take care of you in your old age; I only waste your food and clothes. Since I’m no use to you alive, why shouldn’t I give up my life a little sooner? What could be wrong in selling me to gain a bit of money for yourselves?” But the father and mother loved her too much to consent, so she went in secret.
The volunteer then asked the authorities for a sharp sword and a snake-hunting dog. When the appointed day of the eighth month arrived, she seated herself in the temple, clutching the sword and leading the dog. First she took several pecks of rice balls moistened with malt sugar and placed them at the mouth of the serpent’s cave,
The serpent appeared. Its head was a large as a rice barrel; its eyes were like mirrors two feet across. Smelling the fragrance of the rice balls, it opened its mouth to eat them. Then Li Chi unleashed the snake-hunting dog, which bit hard into the serpent. Li Chi herself came up from behind and scored the serpent with several deep cuts. The wounds hurt so terribly that the monster leaped into the open and died.
Li Chi went into the serpent’s cave and recovered the skulls of the nine victims. She sighed as she brought them out, saying, “For your timidity you were devoured. How pitiful!” Slowly she made her way homeward.
The king of Yüeh learned of these events and made Li Chi his queen. He appointed her father magistrate of Chianglo county, and her mother and elder sisters were given riches. From that time forth, the district was free of monsters. Ballads celebrating Li Chi survive to this day.
THE DEVIL WITH THE THREE GOLDEN HAIRS
Germany
There was once a poor woman who gave birth to a little son; and as he came into the world with a caul on, it was predicted that in his fourteenth year he would have the king’s daughter for his wife. It happened that soon afterwards the king came into the village, and no one knew that he was the king, and when he asked the people what news there was, they answered, “A child has just been born with a caul on; whatever anyone so born undertakes turns out well. It is prophesied, too, that in his fourteenth year he will have the king’s daughter for his wife.”
The king, who had a bad heart, and was angry about the prophecy, went to the parents, and, seeming quite friendly, said, “You poor people, let me have your child, and I will take care of it.” At first they refused, but
when the stranger offered them a large amount of gold for it and when they thought, “It is a child of good fortune, and everything must turn out well for it,” they at last consented and gave him the child.
The king put it in a box and rode away with it until he came to a deep piece of water. Then he threw the box into it and thought, “I have freed my daughter from her undesired suitor.”
The box, however, did not sink, but floated like a boat, and not a drop of water made its way into it. And it floated to within two miles of the king’s chief city, where there was a mill, and it came to a halt at the milldam. A miller’s boy, who by good luck was standing there, noticed it and pulled it out with a hook, thinking that he had found a great treasure, but when he opened it there lay a pretty boy inside, quite fresh and lively. He took him to the miller and his wife, and as they had no children they were glad and said, “God has given him to us.” They took great care of the foundling, and he grew up in all goodness.
It happened that once in a storm the king went into the mill, and he asked the millfolk if the tall youth were their son. “No,” answered they, “he’s a foundling. Fourteen years ago he floated down to the milldam in a box, and the miller’s boy pulled him out of the water.”
Then the king knew that it was none other than the child of good fortune which he had thrown into the water, and he said, “My good people, could not the youth take a letter to the queen? I will give him two gold pieces as a reward.”
“Just as the king commands,” answered they, and they told the boy to hold himself in readiness. Then the king wrote a letter to the queen, wherein he said, “As soon as the boy arrives with this letter, let him be killed and buried, and all must be done before I come home.”
The boy set out with this letter; but he lost his way, and in the evening came to a large forest. In the darkness he saw a small light; he went towards it and reached a cottage. When he went in, an old woman was sitting by the fire quite alone. She started when she saw the boy, and said; “Whence do you come, and whither are you going?”
“I come from the mill,” he answered, “and wish to go to the queen, to whom I am taking a letter; but as I have lost my way in the forest I should like to stay here overnight.”
“You poor boy,” said the woman, “you have come into a den of thieves, and when they come home they will kill you.”
“Let them come,” said the boy, “I am not afraid. But I am so tired that I cannot go any farther.” And he stretched himself upon a bench and fell asleep.
Soon afterwards the robbers came and angrily asked what strange boy was lying there. “Ah,” said the old woman, “it is an innocent child who has lost himself in the forest, and out of pity I have let him come in. He has to take a letter to the queen.”
The robbers opened the letter and read it, and in it was written that the boy as soon as he arrived should be put to death. Then the hard-hearted robbers felt pity, and their leader tore up the letter and wrote another, saying, that as soon as the boy came, he should be married at once to the king’s daughter. Then they let him lie quietly on the bench until the next morning, and when he awoke they gave him the letter and showed him the right way.
And the queen, when she had received the letter and read it, did as was written in it, and had a splendid wedding feast prepared, and the king’s daughter was married to the child of good fortune. And as the youth was handsome and friendly, she lived with him in joy and contentment.
After some time the king returned to his palace and saw that the prophecy was fulfilled, and the child married to his daughter. “How has that come to pass?” said he. “I gave quite another order in my letter.”
So the queen gave him the letter and said that he might see for himself what was written in it. The king read the letter and saw quite well that it had been exchanged for the other. He asked the youth what had become of the letter entrusted to him and why he had brought another instead of it.
“I know nothing about it,” answered he. “It must have been changed in the night, when I slept in the forest.”
The king said in a passion, “You shall not have everything quite so much your own way. Whosoever marries my daughter must fetch me from Hell three golden hairs from the head of the Devil. Bring me what I want, and you shall keep my daughter.” In this way the king hoped to be rid of him forever.
But the child of good fortune answered, “I will fetch the golden hairs. I am not afraid of the Devil.” Whereupon he took leave of them and began his journey.
The road led him to a large town, where the watchman by the gates asked him what his trade was and what he knew. “I know everything,” answered the child of good fortune.
“Then you can do us a favor,” said the watchman, “if you will tell us why our market fountain, which once flowed with wine, has become dry and no longer gives even water.”
“That you shall know,” answered he. “Only wait until I come back.”
Then he went farther and came to another town, and there also the gatekeeper asked him what was his trade and what he knew.
“I know everything,” answered he.
“Then you can do us a favor and tell us why a tree in our town which once bore golden apples now does not even put forth leaves.”
“You shall know that,” answered he. “Only wait until I come back.”
Then he went on and came to a wide river over which he must cross. The ferryman asked him what his trade was and what he knew.
“I know everything,” answered he.
“Then you can do me a favor,” said the ferryman, “and tell me why I must always be rowing backwards and forwards and am never set free.”
“You shall know that,” answered he. “Only wait until I come back.”
When he had crossed the water he found the entrance to Hell. It was black and sooty within, and the Devil was not at home, but his grandmother was sitting in a large armchair.
“What do you want?” said she to him, but she did not look so very wicked.
“I should like to have three golden hairs from the Devil’s head,” answered he, “else I cannot keep my wife.”
“That is a good deal to ask for,” said she. “If the Devil comes home and finds you, it will cost you your life; but as I pity you, I will see if I cannot help you.”
She changed him into an ant and said, “Creep into the folds of my dress, you will be safe there.”
“Yes,” answered he, “so far, so good. But there are three things besides that I want to know: why a fountain which once flowed with wine has become dry and no longer gives even water; why a tree which once bore golden apples does not even put forth leaves; and why a ferryman must always be going backwards and forwards and is never set free.”
“Those are difficult questions,” answered she, “but just be silent and quiet and pay attention to what the Devil says when I pull out the three golden hairs.”
As the evening came on, the Devil returned home. No sooner had he entered than he noticed that the air was not pure. “I smell man’s flesh,” said he. “All is not right here.” Then he pried into every corner, and searched, but could not find anything. His grandmother scolded him. “It has just been swept,” said she, “and everything put in order, and now you are upsetting it again. You have always got man’s flesh in your nose. Sit down and eat your supper.”
When he had eaten and drunk he was tired, and laid his head in his grandmother’s lap and told her she should louse him a little. It was not long before he was fast asleep, snoring and breathing heavily. Then the old woman took hold of a golden hair, pulled it out, and laid it down beside her.
“Oh!” cried the Devil, “what are you doing?”
“I have had a bad dream,” answered the grandmother, “so I seized hold of your hair.”
“What did you dream then?” said the Devil.
“I dreamt that a fountain in a marketplace from which wine once flowed was dried up, and not even water would flow out of it. What is the cause of it?”
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“Oh, ho! if they did but know it,” answered the Devil, “there is a toad sitting under a stone in the well; if they killed it, the wine would flow again.”
The grandmother loused him again until he went to sleep and snored so that the windows shook. Then she pulled the second hair out.
“Ha! what are you doing?” cried the Devil angrily.
“Do not take it ill,” said she, “I did it in a dream.”
“What have you dreamt this time?” asked he.
“I dreamt that in a certain kingdom there stood an apple tree which had once borne golden apples, but now would not even bear leaves. What, think you, was the reason?”
“Oh! if they did but know,” answered the Devil. “A mouse is gnawing at the root; if they killed it they would have golden apples again, but if it gnaws much longer the tree will wither altogether. But I have had enough of your dreams. If you disturb me in my sleep again you will get a box on the ear.”
The grandmother spoke gently to him and picked his lice once more until he fell asleep and snored. Then she took hold of the third golden hair and pulled it out. The Devil jumped up, roared out, and would have treated her ill is she had not quieted him again and said, “Who can help bad dreams?”
“What was the dream, then?” asked he, and was quite curious.
“I dreamt of a ferryman who complained that he must always ferry from one side to the other, and was never released. What is the cause of it?”
“Ah! the fool,” answered the Devil. “When anyone comes and wants to go across he must put the oar in his hand, and the other man will have to ferry and he will be free.”