The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1904-01-16


a tale o years long passed, stlI hnSerin'
to be told. Hearken, If We Will
In the dim shadow before the dawnin i.
Cairin stood on the rise o the moor.
where the last wild battle had ragged. Still
rang in his ears the stornin' o swords on
shields o beaten bronze. Far an beyond
TO the north glImmered the campfires OF
War, but none troubled those sleepin'
sound at his feet.
He passed slowly through the rustlin'
dry grass toward the east, where the
wind of arrows had swept fiercest, an
the men O Cennedigh had held the stan
+, hard. bIa5oned with serpent an crossed
staff For many an hour against the
hordes of the sealoughs; where Cenne-
dish. gray old wolf at bayy. had turned
for the last strugglin with the hounda
let loose on him. But twas not for the
dead that Cairill was searchin' the dark
moor, an he passed the slain without
bendin to see their faces.
ia last. beyond a low bush he caught
the CLEAN of a movin' lamp, faint in the
Starlight, an the air, stirrin' cool on his
ear, brought him the sound o. voices
Holdin his harp more closely he sprang
forward an those kneel;n' there rose
( startled to their feet.
Straight an proud in the gloom stood
Hildyr, the queen, raisia' the dim lamp
TO see who camem nigh, with her free
hand sought the golden hilt o the dagger,
thrust in her girdle for ready usin'.
: Beyond her, clinging' hand in hand,
were other two, an at that night the
heart O. Cairill leaped with gladness.
For two daughters had King Clennedigh;
an one was Grainnc the Naughty, but
the other was Aithne.
The pale, waverin' fame cast light on
the worn face O. Cairill. an his eyes met
those o the queen. Without word she
leaned down again. over one YIN on the
trodden grass. an folded the quiet hands
across the broken war axe.
The king" whispered CairiIl
Aye" answered Grainne, an It's far
from here we must be at the dawnin
else will the children o, Cennedigh be
thfali to his foes"
Sooner come dyin'.' cried Hildyr; an
the fire o. stars was in her glance.
"A strong warrior lies at peace" said
Cairill, but wiser is fight nor bidin' on !
the battle-place o the fallen
WHITTIER" asked Hildyr Dun an
rath are laid waste with flame Beyond |
the break o the hills the night sky was |
red; an soon viii the hounds of Ivar be |
trackin' the way o those flying from |
him.
Then better to cross the arm O the |
sea- an so southwark said Cair.ll I'm |
the Glen O. the Dark Tough, Gaer, broth
er O. mine, holds strong tower. Far in |
the deep O. the forest it stands; an none !
q.
fore
So began their fight from the north
land. Crossn' the inlet at low tide-the
slow waves leanin' their feet-for day
an a night they held to the seward
slope o the hils-lookin' back now an
again for fear o bein' followed, an hear
in the shout o the Danes in the swift
dash O. the surf before them.
While day lasted they pressed along
the bend o the coast; an at night Cairil
lighted small bit o. fire in a sheltered
hollow, for the chill wind brought the
touch o winter from the north sea.
Then, as all sat silent, Cairin struck
single note from his harp, an Athne
looked Up with pleadin' in her soft eyes.
VIII ye~ not sing to US, Cairill? Or
tell some tale to take the sorrowin' an
dread from our hearts,
Cairill bent his head an sang low the
song o. Deirdre-so that for the hour
passin held away all other dreamn or
dread o. pursuit
AN have We nanght else to tell?" ask
ed Grainne, when it ended.
Aye" said Cairill. ''All me heart an
breathin life is song an a legend O.
times gone by; but strength must l keep
to lead ye onward in the morn
SO the night went; an in the gray o.
dawn they were on foot again. Grainne
an Hi ehtreeunqy .dlCay' goGolog- fw. X
an Hildyr, the queen. speakin' low o
vengeance; but Aithne leanin' on the arm
O. Cairill they neared the great forest.
So light was her tread that scarce were
the spires o. grass bent beneath it; but
Cairill went weary-like.
On they FASTENED ever to the south,
keepin' close under the cool shadow o.
the gnarled oaks that grew thick an
wild; an far past the reach o the Danes
were they when the second night dark
ened
I ma hidden valley was their restin I
place; an as the night birds cried. {
Grainne spoke. with tremblin' in her |
Play and sing 10 US. Cairill, that We
may cease fearin' for a time S
Nay, rather sing o. revengin' that we /
forget not" cried Hildyr. pacin reckless {
ly over the turf IN the flickerin' freight {
which glinted on the torch O. twisted | I
gold crclin her white neck.
So Cairill sang O rest an peace. till / /
Grainne sank to sleep: an after. o war
an wild nshtn', film the heart o. Hit I
dyr. Then said Aithne: I
TELL me o the day when first the pow !
er o song came TO ye: for | mind how >
men called Cairill The Dumb Harper. ,
that We had no sift o words" I
The eyes o Cair;ll grew dark as moon r
shadows, an he drew his hand over the $
harp strings in a strange melody. echoin' r
the whisper o the trees. =
Through many Il day | longed for that g
same Prince Aithne. Dark sorrow dwell =
with me when one dear TO me hearlIened /;
for me words, an they came not. Fun I
was me heart an fowin' over with runes q
o the ol5en years, an surgin' Wi love
for her. Sweet would it ha' been 10 lie \
at her feet an sing to her all | knew. as /
a rare gift. T
u wandered far an wide, an the notes
O. me harpin' rang out clear. but Httle :
could they tell while words were lackin. d
At last. in the mist o the short, l met {
one who spoke strange w:s-om. 1;
:" What is this deep longin in your
soul. maxim We wander without restir'. +.
Cairin:' he asked.
Fer the power o teliin' what is burn :