“The shingle grinding along the shore
  When they dragged his war-boats down to sea,
  The dawn-wind whistling his spears among,
  And the magic song of his minstrels three.”

In the time of Finn no one was ever admitted to be one of the Fianna of Erinn unless he could pass through many severe tests of his worthiness.  He must be versed in the Twelve Books of Poetry and must himself be skilled to make verse in the rime and metre of the masters of Gaelic poesy.  Then he was buried to his middle in the earth, and must, with a shield and a hazel stick, there defend himself against nine warriors casting spears at him, and if he were wounded he was not accepted.  Then his hair was woven into braids and he was chased through the forest by the Fians.  If he were overtaken, or if a braid of his hair were disturbed, or if a dry stick cracked under his foot, he was not accepted.  He must be able to leap over a lath level with his brow and to run at full speed under level with his knee, and he must be able while running to draw out a thorn from his foot and never slacken speed.  He must take no dowry with a wife.

It was said that one of the Fians, namely Keelta, lived on to a great age, and saw St Patrick, by whom he was baptized into the faith of the Christ, and to whom he told many tales of Finn and his men, which Patrick’s scribe wrote down.  And once Patrick asked him how it was that the Fianna became so mighty and so glorious that all Ireland sang of their deeds, as Ireland has done ever since.  Keelta answered, “Truth was in our hearts and strength in our arms, and what we said, that we fulfilled.”

This was also told of Keelta after he had seen St Patrick and received the Faith.  He chanced to be one day by Leyney in Connacht, where the Fairy Folk of the Mound of Duma were wont to be sorely harassed and spoiled every year by pirates from oversea.  They called Keelta to their aid, and by his counsel and valour the invaders were overcome and driven home, but Keelta was sorely wounded.  Then Keelta asked that Owen the seer of the Fairy Folk might foretell him how long he had to live, for he was already a very aged man.  Owen said, “It will be seventeen years, O Keelta of fair fame, till thou fall by the pool of Tara, and grievous that will be to all the King’s household.”  “Even so did my chief and lord, my guardian and loving Protector, Finn, foretell to me,” said Keelta.  “And now what fee will ye give me for my rescue of you from the worst affliction that ever befell you?” “A great reward,” said the Fairy Folk, “even youth; for by our art we shall change you into young man again with all the strength and activity of your prime.”  “Nay, God forbid,” said Keelta “that I should take upon me a shape of sorcery, or any other than that which my Maker, the true and glorious God, hath bestowed upon me.”  And the Fairy Folk said, “It is the word of a true warrior and hero, and the thing that thou sayest is good.”  So they healed his wounds, and every bodily evil that he had, and he wished them blessing and victory, and went his way.