The Mammoth Book of Celtic Myths and Legends (36 page)

He grazed Campbell’s cattle in the valley and soon their milk-yield was so rich that when Campbell heard the news, he sent for Murdo Òg and told him how pleased he was with him.
Murdo Òg continued to graze Campbell’s cattle in the glen until the grass was exhausted and he had to move into a second glen. To his surprise, he had no sooner entered this glen but
he thought he saw Athach, alive, and rushing on him with his sword and uttering a terrible battle-cry. He had to defend himself. Being nimble with his weapon, he slew the second giant of a man.

In the cabin of the second giant, he found an inscription: “this belongs to Famhair, brother of Athach”. There were just as many riches in the cabin as those in Athach’s cabin.
Murdo Òg would take none of them and, instead, he buried Famhair behind the cabin and erected a marker, swearing he would find out who the next of kin was.

One night he returned to Campbell’s castle with his cows, to find the chief’s retinue in uproar. It seemed that a three-headed female monster had arisen from Loch Fyne and was
demanding that the chief sacrifice his only daughter, Finnseang, who was a beautiful young maid, and the flower of Campbell’s eye: for, indeed, she was his only child.

“What will happen?” demanded Murdo Òg of one of the milkmaids, who was milking the cows.

“One of the warriors, a suitor of the chief’s daughter, is going to engage the monster in combat tomorrow at first light,” she told him. “All will be well, for the
warrior is Campbell’s best champion and no man in the land has ever scratched him in combat.”

So, the next day, everyone took up vantage positions along the shore of Loch Fyne and the terrible, fearsome three-headed monster appeared in its waters. The champion marched down to the shore;
he looked proud and confident,
with his buckler and great sword ready. But when the monster began to approach, he turned white, the sweat of fear stood on his brow and he
turned, casting away his weapons, shield and sword, and fled.

The monster roared its challenge. Then it stated that the chief’s daughter, Finnseang, was to be brought to the water’s edge at dawn the next morning, unless any other champion could
be found.

With a sorrowful heart, Campbell, the chief, knew there was no other hero in all his land better than the one who had fled before the monster. There was nothing to do but surrender to the
three-headed monster that which it demanded. He bade farewell of his only child and led her down to the shore of Loch Fyne at the appointed hour. Everyone returned to the castle, including the old
chief, to mourn the sacrifice, for they could not bear to witness it.

However, Murdo Òg did not return to the castle but he went to the shore of the loch and found the chieftain’s daughter crying to herself as she waited for the loathsome monster to
appear.

“Fear not,” he told her, “I will defend you.”

“But you are only the cowherd,” she protested in amazement.

“A cowherd’s hand is as steady as that of any warrior, and his sword is just as sharp.”

She nodded, feeling remorse at having made so silly a comment. “And his heart is just as brave,” she added contritely.

“But it is true, as you have said, I am a cowherd and have been hard at work. So, therefore, I am tired. I will sleep until the monster comes. Be sure that you wake me when it approaches,
and you must do so by taking the gold ring which you wear on your finger and placing it on mine.”

“I will do so willingly, if it wakes you to fight the monster.”

He fell asleep by her side and she sat waiting and watching. Then she heard the monster rising from the watery depths, crying out that it had come to claim her. So she took off her gold ring and
placed it on his finger and he awoke with a start.

The sun came up and the three-headed monster rose out of the loch.

Murdo Òg went forward with his sword ready.

The combat was long and hard but, finally, Murdo Òg managed to slice off one of the three heads. And he took the head and stuck it on a stout stick of withy, which is a branch of the
osier willow. Meantime, the monster went screeching across the loch; the waters were whipped into a blood-red froth as it threshed and clawed its way without its third head.

Murdo Òg turned to the chief’s daughter. “You must not tell a soul that it was I who defended you.”

Finnseang took a vow not to do so. Then he returned to tend his cattle herd and she returned to the castle.

That evening he returned to the castle to find the people in an uproar.

“The monster has returned. It is two-headed now,” a dairy maid told Murdo Òg. “It says that Finnseang must be sacrificed to it unless a champion comes to best
it.”

Murdo Òg was surprised but he was about to go to Finnseang’s aid when the dairy maid said: “But fear not, for Campbell has a new champion, much braver than the other, and he
has gone to defend Finnseang. For he has told Campbell that it was he who took the first head off the monster.”

Murdo Òg was astonished that the warrior could make such a false claim.

“What does Finnseang say?” he asked.

“She says nothing. She does not deny it nor name anyone else.”

Murdo Òg sighed. Finnseang was true to the promise that she had made him, for he had told her not to reveal that he had defended her.

So everyone went down to the loch shore to witness the combat. The second champion went out to fight with the two-headed monster. No sooner did the monster approach him than he turned white and
the sweat of fear was on him. He turned, throwing aside his shield and sword and ran off and was never seen in Campbell country again.

Now the monster called to Campbell “Crooked Mouth”,
the chieftain: “Place your daughter by the side of the loch before dawn and I will come for her, unless
you have another brave champion to prevent me.”

Sorrowfully, the next day before dawn, Campbell took leave of his daughter and left her weeping by the side of the loch. No one else remained with her, for none wanted to see the terrible
sacrifice of Finnseang.

When they had all returned to the castle, Murdo Òg came to her and said: “Fear not, Finnseang, I will save you, even though I am a cowherd. But I have been tending my herd and am
tired so I must sleep until the monster comes. Do you awaken me by placing one of your pearl earrings in my ear.”

“Gladly,” replied the girl, “if it will wake you to fight the monster.”

Soon the dawn light came and the two-headed monster reared forth out of the loch.

As good as her word, Finnseang put her earring in his ear.

Murdo Òg awoke and sprang forward with his sword. Again, the fight was long, but he fought bravely and well and managed to sever a second head from the monster. This, too, he skewered on
the willow branch, while the monster, screaming and threshing, returned back across the loch in a froth of blood.

“Home you go,” he told Finnseang, “but give me your oath that you will not tell anyone it was I who saved you.”

She promised and he went off to tend his herd while she returned to the castle.

When he returned to Campbell’s castle in the evening, he found the people in uproar.

“What is it now?” he demanded.

“A one-headed monster has appeared,” the dairymaid told him. “It demands that the chief’s daughter be taken to it as sacrifice. But have no fear, a third champion has now
come forward to slay the monster. He is much braver than the others for it was he who took off the second head of the monster this morning.”

Murdo Òg was truly astonished that any warrior could make such a false claim.

“What does Finnseang say to that?”

“She neither confirms nor denies it. So Campbell, the chief, believes it to be so.”

Murdo Òg sighed. Finnseang had kept her word to him and not told anyone that it was he who had saved her.

The next morning, the new champion marched down to the shore, and the people gathered round to watch the combat. The one-headed monster reared out of the lake and the champion went forward. But
as the monster drew near, his face went white and the sweat of fear stood out on his brow. He suddenly turned, threw aside his shield and sword and went running off as fast as a rabbit over the
hills and was not seen again.

The monster came forward.

“Since you have no champion to defend Finnseang, let her be brought to the shore of the loch before dawn tomorrow and then I will come for her.”

It was truly a grief-stricken father who took his daughter to the loch shore and parted from her the next morning. No one else came, because they could not bear to see Finnseang being carried
off by the monster.

But hardly had Finnseang been left when Murdo Òg appeared. “Fear not, Finnseang, for I am here and will defend you, even though I be but a herder of cows. But as I am such, I am
tired and will sleep until the monster comes. Do you wake me by placing your second earring in my ear.”

“If that will wake you to fight the monster, I will do so gladly,” affirmed the girl.

He fell asleep. Just as dawn arrived, the one-headed monster reared out of the loch. The girl placed the second earring in his ear and Murdo Òg sprang forward, sword ready. The fight was
fierce but finally Murdo Òg sliced off the third head from the monster, and this time it sank quietly into the bloody waters of the loch and never rose again.

Murdo Òg put the third head on the willow branch and placed it as a totem by the shores of the loch.

“Do not tell anyone it was I,” he said.

“But the danger is gone,” she protested. “Surely now I can tell my father that it was you who saved me?”

He shook his head sadly. “Your father will not accept that
a cowherd can be a champion. Nor that a cowherd can love a chieftain’s daughter.”

She said nothing, for she knew that there was wisdom in his statement. She watched sadly as he went off to tend his cattle. She realised that she loved him and knew that she had to act. So when
she returned to the castle, where great joy awaited her, she told her father that she would marry and only marry the man who could take the monster’s heads off the withy, or willow branch. Of
course, with the monster dead, many came forward to try their luck, boasting their bravery. But they failed to remove the heads, for they seemed stuck tight on the willow branch. Finnseang herself
knew that only the man who had put the heads on the branch could take them off.

Everyone was in despair, for it seemed no one in the castle was able to perform the deed.

Then Murdo Òg returned with his cows.

“Murdo Òg has not attempted the task yet,” Finnseang told her father.

Campbell laughed uproariously, and all the warriors echoed his laughter.

“He is only a cowherd, child,” rebuked Campbell.

“But he is a man,” she pointed out.

Reluctantly, Campbell called Murdo Òg forward and told him to remove the heads.

Murdo Òg wondered why he was called upon to do so, for he had not heard that Finnseang had promised to marry the man who did so; he reached forward and easily removed the monster-heads
from the branch.

The champions of Campbell were no more astonished at this than Campbell himself.

“What does this mean?” breathed the chieftain suspiciously.

“I cannot mention the warrior who came and saved me three times from the monster,” replied Finnseang. “I am under oath not to do so. But I gave him my two earrings and my
ring.”

Campbell realized that Murdo Òg was wearing the earrings of his daughter and on his finger was her ring.

He went forward and clasped the young man by the shoulders.

“You are the one who saved my daughter and the man she loves. You shall marry her and be as a son to me.”

Murdo Òg was well pleased and agreed.

There was a great feasting at the castle and Murdo Òg and Finnseang were wed. For three years they lived happily together.

Then a day came when the lovers were walking by the shores of the loch. Without warning, the waters boiled and the monster, with three new heads grown on it, was even more fearsome than before.
It was seeking vengeance and it leapt out of the loch and seized Murdo Òg before he had time to draw his sword. The next instant, the monster had dragged the young man under the water.

Finnseang wailed and lamented and, as she did so, an old man passing by asked her what had happened. When she told him, he advised her to lay out all her best jewels on the shore of the loch and
call the monster to come and look at them.

This she did. The beast surfaced suddenly and examined the fine jewels laid out on the shore.

“I’ll give you any of these that you wish, if only you will give me a sight of my husband, Murdo Òg,” she pleaded.

The monster’s eyes glinted. It turned and dived back into the loch and soon returned with Murdo Òg, as whole and as alive as anyone.

“I will give you all my jewels if you return him to me,” pleaded Finnseang.

The monster considered the request and finally agreed to the bargain.

All went well for three years until, one day, the young couple were walking by the loch shore again. This time the monster rose out and it was Finnseang who was dragged under the waters before
Murdo Òg had a chance to defend her.

Murdo Òg was wailing and lamenting his lost bride when an old man walking by asked him what was wrong.

Murdo Òg told him and the old man said: “I will tell you how you can rescue your wife and destroy the monster for
ever. In the centre of the loch is an island.
On the island is a white-footed hind, slender and swift. If you catch the hind, a black crow will spring out of her mouth and if the black crow were caught, a trout would fall out of her beak, and
in the mouth of the trout would be an egg. Now in the egg is the soul of that monster. If you crush the egg, the monster will die.”

Murdo Òg was astonished, but he decided that he must try this means of rescuing his wife or do nothing at all.

There was no easy way to reach the island in the centre of the loch. Anyway, the monster was swimming the loch and any boat that passed over it would be seized. So Murdo Òg mounted his
fine black horse, the first-born horse of his father’s old mare, and with his black dog beside him, the first-born dog of his father’s old bitch, he rode hard towards the loch shore and
made a leap towards the island. Such was the power of that leap that they landed on the shore of the island.