Even so they made trial of the
ford, and thrice the bearers waded in and thrice they were forced to
turn back lest the flood should sweep them down. At length six of the
tallest and mightiest of the warriors of the High King took up the
bier upon their shoulders, and strode in. And first the watchers on
the bank saw the brown water swirl about their knees, and then they
sank thigh-deep, and at last it foamed against their shoulders, yet
still they braced themselves against the current, moving forward very
slowly as they found foothold among the slippery rocks in the
river-bed. But when they had almost reached the mid-stream it seemed
as if a great surge overwhelmed them, and caught the bier from their
shoulders as they plunged and clutched around it, and they must needs
make back for the shore as best they could, while Boyne swept down the
body of Cormac to the sea.
On the following morning, however, shepherds driving their flocks to
pasture on the hillside of Ross-na-ree found cast upon the shore the
body of an aged man of noble countenance, half wrapped in a silken
pall; and knowing not who this might be they dug a grave in the grassy
hill, and there laid the stranger, and laid the green sods over him
again.
There still sleeps Cormac the King, and neither Ogham-lettered stone
nor sculptured cross marks his solitary grave.
Pages:
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280