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Overview
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780750992985 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | The History Press |
| Publication date: | 08/03/2020 |
| Pages: | 128 |
| Product dimensions: | 7.60(w) x 9.25(h) x 0.60(d) |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
FIONN AND THE SALMON
What a special fish it was That lived there in the Boyne, And what a gift it did bestow Worth more than golden coin.
Fionn Mac Cumhaill was a very famous character in Ireland long ago, and this is one story from his life.
When Fionn was a lad he was sent off, away from home, to study. It was a bit like going to a boarding school, except he was to be the only student there.
The person he was sent to study with was very wise indeed. His name was Finnegas, and he was a poet who wrote beautiful words about almost everything – and most of the time his poems rhymed!
Finnegas had been writing poems all his life, and everyone knew how good he was at it. But he was clever in other ways too. He had, in his brain, all sorts of information: old stories, knowledge of which plants to use as medicine when you were sick, and the names of all the stars and planets in the sky. He could tell you a lot about the animals in the woods, about the stones and mountains, and all about the kings and queens of Ireland, and of other countries too! Over all, he was a very smart person indeed.
Finnegas lived on the banks of the River Boyne, and by day, Fionn would help his teacher by cleaning, cooking, mending clothes, and doing other little jobs. When evening came, Fionn would sit by the fire, listening to all the great stories and ideas that came from the words of his teacher. Fionn soaked up all this knowledge like a sponge!
Now, remember how I told you how clever Finnegas was? Well, even though that was the case, Fionn was very curious and asked Finnegas an awful lot of questions. Most of them Finnegas had answers for, but even he couldn't answer every single question – no teacher could! Finnegas, however, wanted to be nothing less than the wisest human in the whole world, and he had a plan to do just that! The key to this was in an old prophecy.
It was said there was a sacred hazel tree that grew near the banks of the Boyne, and that this tree held all the knowledge of the world. But neither Finnegas nor anyone else knew where this tree was. Its location was a secret. What he did know, however, was that a certain salmon would swim to the bank beside the tree and eat the nuts that fell into the water. For sometimes knowledge is a very delicious thing!
'All I have to do,' he told Fionn, 'is catch that salmon, you see?' Fionn shook his head, puzzled.
'Oh Fionn,' said Finnegas. 'If all of the knowledge of the world is in that tree, then it is also in the hazelnuts; and if the salmon eats the nuts, then it is also in the salmon. Then if I catch the salmon ...'
'Ah!' said Fionn. 'If you catch the salmon and eat it for your dinner, then you will possess all the knowledge of the world!'
'Exactly my boy!' said Finnegas. 'And you will help me catch it!'
And that was how it was for quite a while. Each day Fionn would spend a good amount of time helping Finnegas with his work around the house: cooking, cleaning, chopping wood, making the fires, and, of course, checking the fishing rod when Finnegas was not fishing himself.
In the evenings, Finnegas would be Fionn's teacher: reciting great poems and sagas, telling him the history of great kings and queens, and stories of the land.
One morning, Fionn woke from his bed by the fire to very loud noises. There was shouting, banging of pots and pans, and laughter. He rubbed his sleepy eyes, trying to figure it all out, and it was then that he realised all the noise was coming from Finnegas. The poet was laughing and whooping, throwing pots in the air, and shouting 'Yipppeeeeeeeee!'
When he saw Fionn he ran over and hugged the lad so tightly that Fionn thought his bones might break!
'We did it! We did it! We did it!' Finnegas cried, pulling Fionn into a little dance with him. 'Well, I did it actually!'
'Did what, Finnegas?' asked Fionn, still half asleep.
'Oh you silly lad,' said Finnegas, 'I did IT. There's only one IT that matters. I caught the Salmon of Knowledge!'
Fionn's eyes widened, and he grinned a big grin. 'Oh, that's such great news!' he beamed.
'I couldn't have done it without you, lad,' said Finnegas. 'You helped me set that fishing rod only last night. Good work my boy, you will be rewarded,' and he shook Fionn's hand. 'Now, we must set to work. Time is ticking. That salmon is fresh but it won't stay that way for ever.'
Finnegas instructed Fionn to build a cooking fire. A good steady one with flat logs underneath, so the cooking pan would sit on them perfectly. Finnegas then gently placed the fish on the pan and covered it.
'I'm going to head off to the woods to pick some herbs as a garnish,' he said. 'I'm sure that salmon will be magical when I eat it, but I also want it to be delicious! You are in charge of the cooking, Fionn.' Fionn smiled and nodded.
Finnegas picked up the basket to collect the herbs, then turned back, with a very serious look on his face.
'That is my salmon in the pan. Under NO circumstances are you to eat any before I get back, do you understand?' Fionn nodded nervously, as Finnegas continued.
'It is MY salmon, and it is MY knowledge, Fionn. Once I have taken the first bite, all the knowledge of the fish will go into me.' His serious face disappeared then and turned into a smile. 'Then I will happily share my meal with you, my young friend!'
And with that off Finegas ran into the woods, singing with pure happiness as he went: 'I caught the magic salmon, I caught the magic salmon, soon I'll be the wiiiisest one of any in this worrrrrld!'
Fionn set about setting the table for dinner. He was so happy for his teacher and wanted everything to be perfect for when he returned. As Fionn had his back turned to the fire, the wind picked up and fanned the flames. The salmon hissed and crackled in the pan.
'Oh no!' thought Fionn, 'I can't let it burn!' And without thinking, he poked at the skin of the salmon to see if it was all right. As he did so, he let out a roar – the hot fish burned his thumb! He immediately stuck his thumb into his mouth to ease the pain.
A few minutes later, Finnegas returned with his basket full of herbs. He saw the beautiful table, all laid out for dinner, and in the middle was the Salmon of Knowledge, ready to be eaten. But as he sat down at the table, he noticed something unusual about Fionn: it was as if there was a strange light shining from his eyes.
'Have you eaten a piece of my salmon?' he asked Fionn.
'No, teacher,' Fionn replied.
'Have you chewed a bit of the skin while it was cooking?'
'No, teacher.'
'Have you drank of the juices that dripped from the fish?' 'No, teacher,' said Fionn. 'But ...'
Fionn hesitated, then he told Finnegas how he had burned his thumb, had put it in his mouth to ease the pain, and for just one second had tasted the fish.
Finnegas bowed his head. 'Well, my boy, all the wisdom of the world is now yours. You were the first to taste the Salmon of Knowledge, even if it was by accident.'
He instructed Fionn to eat the fish, as it was now his to claim. After the fish was eaten, Fionn told Finnegas that he didn't really feel that different. He didn't feel any wiser than before.
'You first tasted the fish with your thumb, so suck your thumb again,' said Finnegas.
Fionn did so, and in that moment all the knowledge of the world rushed into his head in one go!
Finnegas said goodbye to Fionn, shook his hand, and sent him on his way that very night, for there was no more that he could teach him. He knew that Fionn was destined to be a great poet, warrior, and leader when he grew up. He was happy that he had at least helped Fionn on his path to greatness.
When Fionn left, Finnegas sat down by the fire, and let out a big sigh.
'Well, I suppose it's sandwiches again for dinner tonight!'
CHAPTER 2THE BOY WHO BECAME A LAKE
Long ago, in the rolling hills of Clare, there lived a young lad named Turlough. He had sparkling eyes, thick curly hair, and a good sprinkling of mischief! Some might say too much mischief.
'That lad is up to his tricks again!'
'What is he up to now?'
'Turlough! It must have been Turlough!'
Those were the types of things you would hear people say in Turlough's village when he walked down the street.
I have to tell you, yes, it is true, Turlough was very fond of all sorts of jokes, and yes, he often caused quite a bit of mischief. For example:
You would wake up and find all your cows in the field were wearing daisy chains!
You would go to gather the milk from the pail and find he had replaced it with apple juice!
You would go to put on your shoes and find them full of mushrooms!
Now, these little jokes were not that bad really; in fact, they often sparked a lot of laughter, so much so that Turlough was favoured by the fairy folk (who were fond of a joke themselves!). They often found themselves laughing at Turlough's antics, so he always remained in their good books. They knew that he had a good heart and all he wanted in life was a bit of fun.
But sometimes Turlough's jokes went a bit too far for some people. Powerful people. And one night, Turlough went too far with none other than Allód, the great king of the sea. Allód was grumpy at the best of times, never mind when a joke was played on him.
This could not end well.
This particular night, Turlough was up to the usual mischief by the seashore. He was whistling tunes and skimming stones on the water, when didn't he spot Allód, king of the sea, sleeping down beneath the waves in his sea bed.
'Look at him sleeping, snoring away,' giggled Turlough. 'I'll soon fix that!' And he slipped down beneath the waves to make a big pile of mischief below.
He watched the king, fast asleep on his bed. The king's long black hair was spread out across a pillow of seaweed growing from a rock. Turlough swam up very quietly behind the king, and began to knot his hair and the seaweed together! Once they were well and truly knotted, he swam back up to the surface, picked up two big rocks and banged them together just under the water.
Bang, bang, bang.
Of course, the sound got louder and louder as it moved down through the water.
Bang, bang, BANG.
Until finally it reached King Allód, and woke him suddenly from his deep sleep, just like a big rocky alarm clock!
BANG, BANG, BANG!
King Allód leapt to his feet – or at least he tried to! His long hair was woven into the seaweed on the rock, and no sooner did he try to stand up than his hair tugged him back down again!
Turlough giggled from the shallow shore and watched as the great king landed smack on his bottom!
Again Allód tried to get up, but to no avail.
More giggles from Turlough.
The third time the king tried to stand, he was so angry that he pulled with great force, and this time some of his hair ripped out from the roots.
'OUCH!' cried the king. 'OUUUUUCH!'
Turlough stopped laughing. He didn't realise it would hurt that much!
The king was furious. He grabbed a razor shell and sliced away the remaining seaweed that was tied to his hair. His face was red, and he stomped around the seabed. Not only was he woken from his sleep, but his head was stinging. Not only was his head stinging, but he had lost a big chunk of his lovely hair. He was very fond of his hair.
'WHO DID THIS?' roared King Allód.
Turlough began to feel afraid.
'WHO DID THIS? THEY WILL SURELY PAY!'
Now Turlough was really afraid. It was time for him to get out of there before the king saw him.
But it was too late – the king had spotted him standing at the shore!
Turlough scrambled for safety away from the water, but heard a thundering voice behind him.
'Turlough!' shouted the king. 'I see you running away! Wait until I catch you!'
But there was NO WAY Turlough was waiting until the king caught him. He might have been a trickster, but he wasn't stupid!
Now, the king was fast and very powerful, but his feet had become tangled in the loose seaweed, causing him to trip and stumble on the rocks. This made him even angrier – 'TURLOUGH!!' – but it did give Turlough a bit of extra time to escape from the sea.
Down Turlough ran along the beach, his heart pounding in his chest. Up Turlough scrambled along the sea cliffs, and as he did, he glanced back and saw the great sea king Allód rise up from the waves in pursuit.
'I will turn you into sea mist,' roared the king, 'and you will be blown to the four winds and trouble me no more!'
Turlough was terrified as he raced up the hills towards the Burren Forests. He knew if he could get far enough inland, then the king's power would fade the further he was from the sea. But it was of no use, his angry chaser was gaining on him!
'May you be turned to water ...' cried Allód. He raised his mighty arms and he cast a spell – a curse – across the hills towards Turlough, '... and may the water be raised into sea mist and may you vanish into a hundred thousand drops and be blown into nothing!'
It was too late. The spell reached Turlough, and he felt a strange melting in his body.
'Quick, come down here!' said a voice.
Turlough turned to see some of his fairy friends appear and grab his arm. They led him through a grove and past a fairy mound. All the while, Turlough could feel his body begin to turn into water, his curls falling to the ground as little droplets: splash, splash, splash.
The fairies laid him down in the middle of the earth, and stood around him; but alas, they were too late to stop Turlogh becoming water, and they watched as he melted into a giant lake in front them.
'We must do something!' said one.
So the fairies circled Turlough and wove their own spell. They cast their magical words into the water. The sea mist stopped rising. Instead, the water simply stayed in the ground in the form of a lake.
When King Allód saw the lake appear, he was happy enough that some justice had been done, and that annoying lad would never trouble anyone again. So he turned back to return to his home under the sea, rubbing his sore head.
But what of poor Turlough? No longer was he a boy full of laughter and mischief. Now all that was left of him was a lake on the side of the mountain.
Well, let me tell you this. There is always more to fairy magic than you think! Yes, it was true the boy had been turned into a lake, but the fairy spell gave him a little extra gift.
Several times a year, the fairies would draw the lake down with them below, into the fairy realm. Of course, they would always make sure that King Allód was nowhere to be seen. As he moved between the realms, Turlough would regain his human form. During this special time, he would once more be able to laugh and joke, and even get up to a little bit of mischief with his fairy friends!
Many, many years later, a young monk (who is now a saint) called Cronán was passing a certain spot on the mountain. He happened to glimpse over at the precise moment when Turlough changed! He witnessed the lake transforming into a human. He watched as feet, legs, torso, arms, head – and a big mop of curly hair formed from the tiny droplets. He watched the lake become a boy! Cronán thought it to be a miracle, and so he built a church on that spot, in honour of the mystical experience he had witnessed.
To this very day, it is said that Turlough still lives there, high in the Burren. It is also said that if he takes a fancy, he moves around to other places in Ireland. You can't always see him, because he disappears underground for a time to be with his fairy friends, perhaps playing a trick or two.
Not everyone may know of him, but his name is still remembered. In fact, it is often given to the bodies of water like this.
Turlough – the disappearing lake.
CHAPTER 3WELL, WELL, WELL
Dotted around the whole of Ireland are places and things that people call 'holy wells'. Some people might also call them 'sacred wells', 'magic wells' or 'fairy wells'.
These are places where water comes (or used to come) up from the ground into a well. Some of these places are as old as Ireland itself, and others are places that were dug and made by humans.
When the monks came to Ireland, they brought with them their Christian beliefs. They named new wells, but also changed the names of many of the old wells they found, and called them after their holy saints. Because of this, in Ireland you will often have a well with two different names (maybe more) and perhaps more than one story attached to it.
The stories of the ancient pagan gods of Ireland were quite different to what the monks were used to. The old stories were still told alongside the new ones, so, as a result, over time many stories got blurred together and it became hard to tell what the very first story had been. This is not unusual with old stories.
A good example of this is if you come across a well called Brigit's well.
Brigit is the name of a goddess in the old pagan tradition, and St Bridget is the name of a saint in the Christian tradition. So when you hear a story about Brigit/Bridget, it could refer to either, or both – and well, it's hard to know which is which! Sometimes it doesn't matter at all, once it is a good story!
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Wild Waves and Wishing Wells"
by .
Copyright © 2019 Órla McGovern.
Excerpted by permission of The History Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
About the Author and Illustrator,
Introduction,
1 Fionn and the Salmon,
2 The Boy Who Became a Lake,
3 Well, Well, Well,
4 Son of the Sea,
5 Tin Whistle Soup,
6 What a Big Baby,
7 The King's Ears,
8 Cake,
9 The Waters of Ireland,
10 The Fairy Ship of Roses,
11 Warts and All,
12 The King and the Mermaid,
13 Black and White,
14 Seven Times Round,
15 The White Trout,
16 Gráinne's Hair,
17 The Giants' Well,
Notes,