Towards them he rode, meaning to ask them concerning Finn and
the Fianna. As he came near, they all stopped their work to gaze upon
him, for to them he appeared like a messenger of the Fairy Folk or an
angel from heaven. Taller and mightier he was than the men-folk they
knew, with sword-blue eyes and brown ruddy cheeks; in his mouth, as
it were, a shower of pearls, and bright hair clustered beneath the rim
of his helmet. And as Oisin looked upon their puny forms, marred by
toil and care, and at the stone which they feebly strove to heave from
its bed, he was filled with pity, and thought to himself, "not such
were even the churls of Erinn when I left them for the Land of Youth,"
and he stooped from his saddle to help them. His hand he set to the
boulder, and with a mighty heave he lifted it from where it lay and
set it rolling down the hill. And the men raised a shout of wonder and
applause, but their shouting changed in a moment into cries of terror
and dismay, and they fled, jostling and overthrowing each other to
escape from the place of fear; for a marvel horrible to see had taken
place. For Oisin's saddle-girth had burst as he heaved the stone, and
he fell headlong to the ground. In an instant the white steed had
vanished from their eyes like a wreath of mist, and that which rose,
feeble and staggering, from the ground was no youthful warrior but a
man stricken with extreme old age, white-bearded and withered, who
stretched out groping hands and moaned with feeble and bitter cries.
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