The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1895-06-01

crayfsh and crabs to bear them company
the fishermen of Dunmanus and Goleer
and Crookhaven, and even the strangers
from, Cape Clear would not buy sou
from purgatory at the price or draWlhs
net through 1t. They have a great WISE
to please the buyers in the Ensnsh shipS
and the Scotch and Manx. oh, yes; put
creel of gold would not tempt them tc
meddle in "Murty's Path" They steer
their boats far to one side, and bless them
selves as they pass in the manner or theii
fathers and grandfathers before them'
These poor men, having not hluch ol tHe
Irish now, and not rightly understanalils
what their elders may have heard the
truth of, say this snake-like forbidding
stretch bears its name from Murty Oge
O'Sulliyan. Their thought is that the un-
canny boiling began in the wake or the
English Speedwell as the corpse or the
yanuuished priyateer spun and twirled at
her keel through the foam on It's savage
last tourney from Castletown to Cork.
But It is enough to look down at this EVIL
place to see that the malediction upon II
must be, older than Murty Oges time
which, in the sight of Dunlogher was as
Yesterday, Why, men are living this year
who talked with men who saw his heau
spiked over South Gate. There We're no
great curses left unused in Ireland at 80
late a day as his. And again, would II De
the waters of Dunlogher that would tear
themselves for an O'Sullivan?
No the curse threads back a dozen lives
behind poor Murty Oge. The strange cur
rents weave and twine. and the greasy
foam spreads and gathers. gathers and
spreads, in the path Of another, whose
birthright il was that they should baptize
him. The true tale Is of Murty, the
Proud, or, IL you will have his style from
the book of Schull-Murtogh Mordha
O'Mahony, chief in Dunlogher. And his
time is not so distant in one way, as men
take account OF years. But in another II
is too remote for any clear vision, because
the little people, of the old, fearful kind
have left every other part of Ireland, and
they were just halting together Tor a
farewell pause in Dunlogher, by reason OF
Il being the last end of the land, and their
entertainments famed up vapor ABOUT
Murty Mordha to his undoing. And II Is
as IL the mist still rose between US and his
story.
When the sun began to sink out Of sight,
down behind the sea, two men stood on
the edge of the great cliff of Dunlogher,
their faces turned to the west.
The yellow fame from the sky shoDe full
in the eyes Of Murtogh, and he held his
huge, bear head erect with holiness, and
stared back at It without blinking. HIS
companion, little, shriveled old man,
whom he held by the arm, had the glowing
light on his countenance as well. but his
eyelids we're shut He bent himself against
his chiefs thick shoulder and trembled.
"Are we to the brink itself?' he asked;
his aged voice shook when he spoke
Here, where I stand, when would grip
you, and hold you forth at the length or
my arm, and open my hand, yon would
fall hundred fathoms In the air." Mur-
togh's free arm and hand made the terri
BILE gesture to fit his words, but he tight
ened his protecting clasp upon the other
and led him back few PAGES. The old
man groaned his sigh of relief.
"It Ia you who are the brave nobieman,
Murty," he whispered, admlringly. There
is none to equal your strength. or your
grand courage, in all the land. And the
heart of pure gold along with it!'
Murtogh tossed his big head. to shake
the twisted forelock of his hair TO one
side. II looked straight into the sun at
noon on st. Johns day." he said. quietly,
with the pride Of o. child. .If 1t we're a
hundred times az bright would look at It,
and never fear for my eyes. would hold
my own son out here, stretched over the
abyss, and he would be no safer in his
bed. Whatever / wished to do, I would
do It."
you would-O, you would" assented
the old man, in tones of entire sincerity.
The chieftain kept his eyes on the sky
line, beneath which. as the radiance above
deepened, the waters grew asben and
coldly dark. Muslng, he held his silence
for a time. Then, with abruptness, he
asked:
what age were you, Owny Hea, when
the MacSwineys put out your eyes? Were
you strong enough to remember the sun
well?'
II was Of no strength at ALL" the other
whmpered, the tragedy Of his childhood
affecting his speech on the instant. II
was in my mothers arms. There were the
men breaking in through the wall, and the
kline believing outside, and my father cut
down; and then 1t was like my mother
drew her cloak tight over my head-and no
one came ever to take 1t off again. ! for
get the sum-"
Murtogh nodded his head. II will go to
Muskerry some day." he said, in kindly
way. II cannot tell when. just now; but
will go, and will burn and desolate ev-
erything for six miles around, and you
shall have a bag for your harp made of
eyellds Of the MacSwineys."
Old Owny lifted his sightless face toward
his master. and smiled with wistful affec-
tion. "Ah, Murty dear" he expostulated,
mildly. ''it is you who have the grand ma
ture-but think, Murty---I am a very old
man. and no kin Of yours. 1t is fifty years
since the last man who took my eyes drew
breath. II you went now no living soul
could tell what you came for or why the
great suffering was put upon them. And,
moreover, the O'Mahonys Carbery have
wives from the MacSwineys these three
generations. No feud lies now
The Lord Of Dunlogher growled sharply
between his teeth. and Owny shrank fur
ther back.
How long will you be learning" Muir