The Story of Tuan McCairill - CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VII

    ‘Then my soul rose to the height of Doom, and I intended all that might happen to me, and agreed to it.
    ‘ “Tomorrow,” I said, “I will go out among ye, and I will die,” and at that the wolves howled joyfully, hungrily, impatiently.
    ‘I slept, and I saw myself changing into a boar in dream, and I felt in dream the beating of a new heart within me, and in dream I stretched my powerful neck and braced my eager limbs. I awoke from my dream, and I was that which I had dreamed.
    ‘The night wore away, the darkness lifted, the day came; and from without the cave the wolves called to me:
    ‘ “Come out, O Skinny Stag. Come out and die.”
    ‘And I, with joyful heart, thrust a black bristle through the hole of the cave, and when they was that wriggling snout, those curving tusks, that red fierce eye, the wolves fled yelping, tumbling over each other, frantic with terror; and I behind them, a wildcat for leaping, a giant for strength, a devil for ferocity; a madness and gladness of lusty unsparing life; a killer, a champion, a boar who could not be defied.
    ‘I took the lordship of the boars of Ireland.
    ‘Wherever I looked among my tribes I saw love and obedience: wherever I appeared among the strangers they fled away. Ah, the wolves feared me then, and the great, grim bear went bounding on heavy paws. I charged him at the head of my troop and rolled him over and over; but it is not easy to kill the bear, so deeply is his life packed under that stinking pelt. He picked himself up and ran, and was knocked down, and ran again blindly, butting into trees and stones. Not a claw did the big bear flash, not a tooth did he show, as he ran whimpering like a baby, or as he stood with my nose rammed against his mouth, snarling up into his nostrils.
    ‘I  challenged all that moved. All creatures but one. For men had again come to Ireland. Semion, the son of Stariath, with his people, from whom the men of Domnann and the Fir Bolg and the Galiuin are descended. These I did not chase, and when they chased me I fled.
    ‘Often I would go, drawn by my memoried heart, to look at them as they moved among their fields; and I spoke to my mind in bitterness: “When the people of Partholon were gathered in counsel my voice was heard; it was sweet to all who heard it, and the words I spoke were wise. The eyes of women brightened and softened when they looked at me. They loved to hear him when he sang who now wanders in the forest with a tusky herd.” ’