f
it had never been felt. And the swans were gathered together upon the
Seal Rock. The waters froze into ice around them, and each of them
became frozen in his place, so that their feet and feathers clung to
the rock; and when the day came and they strove to leave the place,
the skin of their feet and the feathers of their breasts clove to the
rock, they came naked and wounded away.

"Woe is me, O children of Lir," said Fionnuala, "we are now indeed in
evil case, for we cannot endure the salt water, yet we may not be away
from it; and if the salt water gets into our sores we shall perish of
it." And thus she sang:--

"To-night we are full of keening;
No plumage to cover our bodies;
And cold to our tender feet
Are the rough rocks all awash.

"Cruel to us was Aoife,
Who played her magic upon us,
And drove us out to the ocean,
Four wonderful, snow-white swans.

"Our bath is the frothing brine
In the bay by red rocks guarded,
For mead at our father's table
We drink of the salt blue sea.

"Three sons and a single daughter--
In clefts of the cold rocks dwelling,
The hard rocks, cruel to mortals.
--We are full of keening to-night."

So they went forth again upon the Straits of Moyle, and the brine was
grievously sharp and bitter to them, but they could not escape it nor
shelter themselves from it. Thus they were, till at last their
feathers grew again and their sores were healed.

On one day it happened that they came to the mouth of the river Bann
in the north of Erinn, and there they perceived a fair host of
horsemen riding on white steeds and coming steadily onward from the
south-west "Do ye know who yon riders are, children of Lir?" asked
Fionnuala. "We know not," said they, "but it is like they are some
party of the People of Dana." Then they moved to the margin of the
land, and the company they had seen came down to meet them; and
behold, it was Hugh and Fergus, the two sons of Bov the Red, and their
nobles and attendants with them, who had long been seeking for the
swans along the coast of the Straits of Moyle.

Most lovingly and joyfully did they greet each other and the swans
inquired concerning their father Lir, and Bov the Red, and the rest of
their kinsfolk.

"They are well," said the Danaans; "and at this time they are all
assembled together in the palace of your father at the Hill of the
White Field, where they are holding the Festival of the Age o