No More Learning

While they stood dumb and motionless with horror, the woman began to
speak, saying slowly and loudly: 'Did you see my son? He has a crown of
silver on his head, and there are rubies in the crown. ' Then the oldest
of the troopers, he who had been most often wounded, drew his sword and
cried: 'I have fought for the truth of my God, and need not fear the
shadows of Satan,' and with that rushed into the water. In a moment he
returned. The woman had vanished, and though he had thrust his sword
into air and water he had found nothing.

The five troopers remounted, and set their horses at the ford, but all
to no purpose. They tried again and again, and went plunging hither
and thither, the horses foaming and rearing. 'Let us,' said the old
trooper, 'ride back a little into the wood, and strike the river
higher up. ' They rode in under the boughs, the ground-ivy crackling
under the hoofs, and the branches striking against their steel caps.
After about twenty minutes' riding they came out again upon the river,
and after another ten minutes found a place where it was possible to
cross without sinking below the stirrups. The wood upon the other
side was very thin, and broke the moonlight into long streams. The
wind had arisen, and had begun to drive the clouds rapidly across the
face of the moon, so that thin streams of light seemed to be dancing
a grotesque dance among the scattered bushes and small fir-trees. The
tops of the trees began also to moan, and the sound of it was like the
voice of the dead in the wind; and the troopers remembered the belief
that tells how the dead in purgatory are spitted upon the points of the
trees and upon the points of the rocks. They turned a little to the
south, in the hope that they might strike the beaten path again, but
they could find no trace of it.

Meanwhile, the moaning grew louder and louder, and the dance of the
white moon-fires more and more rapid.
Gradually they began to be
aware of a sound of distant music. It was the sound of a bagpipe,
and they rode towards it with great joy. It came from the bottom of
a deep, cup-like hollow. In the midst of the hollow was an old man
with a red cap and withered face. He sat beside a fire of sticks, and
had a burning torch thrust into the earth at his feet, and played an
old bagpipe furiously. His red hair dripped over his face like the
iron rust upon a rock. 'Did you see my wife? ' he cried, looking up a
moment; 'she was washing! she was washing! ' 'I am afraid of him,' said
the young trooper, 'I fear he is one of the Sidhe. ' 'No,' said the old
trooper, 'he is a man, for I can see the sun-freckles upon his face.
We will compel him to be our guide'; and at that he drew his sword,
and the others did the same. They stood in a ring round the piper, and
pointed their swords at him, and the old trooper then told him that
they must kill two rebels, who had taken the road between Ben Bulben
and the great mountain spur that is called Cashel-na-Gael, and that he
must get up before one of them and be their guide, for they had lost
their way. The piper turned, and pointed to a neighbouring tree, and
they saw an old white horse ready bitted, bridled, and saddled. He
slung the pipe across his back, and, taking the torch in his hand, got
upon the horse, and started off before them, as hard as he could go.

The wood grew thinner and thinner, and the ground began to slope up
toward the mountain.