Finn’s Chief Men

With the coming of Finn did the Fianna of Erinn come to their glory, and with his life their glory passed away.  For he ruled them as no other captain ever did, both strongly and wisely, and never bore a grudge against any, but freely forgave a man all offences save disloyalty to his lord.  Thus it is told that Conan, son of the Lord of Luachar, him who had the Treasure Bag and whom Finn slew at Rath Luachar, was for seven years an outlaw and marauder, harrying the Fians, and killing here a man and there a hound, and firing their dwellings, and raiding their cattle.  At last they ran him to a corner at Cam Lewy in Munster, and when he saw that he could escape no more he stole upon Finn as he sat down after a chase, and flung his arms round him from behind, holding him fast and motionless.  Finn knew who held him thus and said, “What wilt thou Conan?” Conan said, “To make a covenant of service and fealty with thee, for I may no longer evade thy wrath.”  So Finn laughed and said, “Be it so, Conan, and if thou prove faithful and valiant, I also will keep faith.”  And Conan served him for thirty years, and no man of all the Fianna was keener and hardier in fight.  There was also another Conan, namely, mac Morna, who was big and bald, and unwieldy in manly exercises, but whose tongue was bitter and scurrilous; no high brave thing was done that Conan the Bald did not mock and belittle.  It is said that when he was stripped he showed down his back and buttocks a black sheep’s fleece instead of a man’s skin, and this is the way it came about.  One day when Conan and certain others of the Fianna were hunting in the forest they came to a stately Dun, white-walled, with coloured thatching on the roof, and they entered it to seek hospitality.  But when they were within they found! no man, but a great empty hall with pillars of cedar wood and silken hangings about it, like the hall of a wealthy lord.  In the midst there was a table set forth with a sumptuous feast of boar’s flesh and venison, and a great vat of yew wood full of red wine, and cups of gold and silver.  So they set themselves gaily to eat and drink, for they were hungry from the chase, and talk and laughter were loud around the board.  But one of them ere long started to his feet with a cry of fear and wonder, and they all looked round, and saw before their eyes the tapestried walls changing to rough wooden balks and the ceiling to foul sooty thatch like that of a herdsman’s hut.  So they knew they were being entrapped by some enchantment of the Fairy Folk, and all sprang to their feet and made for the doorway, that was no longer high and stately but was shrinking to the size of a fox earth,—­all but Conan the Bald, who was gluttonously devouring the good things on the table, and heeded nothing else.  Then they shouted to him, and as the last of them went out he strove to rise and follow, but found himself limed to the chair so that he could not stir.  So two of the Fianna, seeing his plight, rushed back and seized his arms and tugged with all their might, and if they dragged him away, they left the most part of his raiment and his skin sticking to the chair.  Then, not knowing what else to do with him in his sore plight they clapped upon his back the nearest thing they could find, which was the skin of a black sheep that they took from a peasant’s flock hard by, and it grew there, and Conan wore it till his death.