Blair Collection > Celtic monthly > Volume 7, 1899

THE CELTIC MONTHLY.
107
THE BATTLE OF THE WINDS.
fWILL tell you the true tale — and true it
is indeed — of the Battle of the Winds on
— Loclinagar.
On a day, Uiiadii, son of Martach, was pur-
suing deer on i.ochnagar. The light, active,
nimble, swift-running, swift-following son of
Martach, of shining limbs, was pursuing the
chase on Loclinagar. To the lofty, white, purple,
summit went he in ]jursuit of deer. There
heard he the winds talking angrily one to
another. Said the South Wind : " She is
certainly mine ; for, whenever I go near her, she
smiles upon me I give her the cool, refreshing,
gentle rains of the heavens. The bright dews of
the grass are my tributes, and the sound of my
voice is as the sweet music of birds. She is
mine ! she is mine 1 "
Then cried the West Wind: "Not so, brother:
you are mistaken. She loves me ! " Then .sang
he:
"From the Golden West I come.
From my cave by the edge of the sea.
The blue of the sky is my gift.
She loves me ! she loves me ! she loves me ! "
But the North and the East Winds laughed
these two winds to scorn. Then fell they to
disputing violently with each other
Roared the North Wind: "She rejoices to
see me race across the dusky plain of winter.
In my strength is her delight. Trees root I up
and rocks cast I down, fnr her pleasure. She
claps her hands for joy when she sees me
descending in my inight from my lofty seat
among the angry heavens. The waves of the
ocean rise up and roar when they behold me ;
and I can make the swift rivers flow back to
their sources in the high mountains. She loves
me ! she loves me I "
Then spoke coldly the East Wind : "I am her
lover. Me only she fears ; me only she loves.
When I go near her, she holds her breath for
fear and awe of me. 1 breathe upon the green
fertile plain, and behold ! it is turned to black.
In my gift are the fiost and the snow, and the
cold, icy blasts of winter. In my gift, too, are
the hot, scorching winds of summer ; and, when
I list, my breath is as the stagnant heat of sandy,
desert places. I am her lover!" proudly said he.
And the South and the West Winds, because
they were not of themselves strong enough to
contend against either of the other two winds,
and because each secretly hoped to gain some
advantage over his rivals by such an artifice,
took sides — the South Wind arraying himself
on the side of the East Wind, and the West
Wind arraying himself on that of the North.
Then began the terrible Battle of the Winds on
Loch n a gar.
The noise of the shock of the contending winds
was louder than the loudest thunder. For a
year and a day they fought — like great, wild,
savage beasts. Lightning streamed from their
wounded Hanks. The sun iled in fear of the
conflict, and went and hid himself in the west.
The moon and the stars forsook the skies. The
top of the mountain smoked with the lieat of
the battle. The moisture flowed from them in
torrents. It tilled the lochs and rivers, which
devastated the plains. As the hound shakes his
quarry, so the winds shook the mount. Great
rocks and stones went bounding down from top
to bottom. Trees were snapt oti' at the stems,
like brittle faggots in the hands of the husband-
man. Oaks on the plain were bent and twisted
by the mere breath of the conflict. It happened
that an eagle which flew into an eddy was cast
away, like the down of the hill.
Ruadri lay beneath a rock whilst this terrible
battle was going on. But, by a nuracle, he
escaped. The half of his two strong arms was
buried in the soil beneath the rock, and he
himself with the stout grey rock of gigantic
weight and strength to shelter him. Yet was
he in danger of being dashed to pieces by spent
breezes, once or twice.
At last, at the end of a year and a day,
wearied of the useless conflict, and almost breath-
less, cried the North Wind: "Oh, brothers! it
seems to me that we have waged war long
enough. Let us now, therefore, conclude a
peace."
Then said the East Wind: "I have but a
sorry ally in this combat, so we will conclude a
peace as soon as you please." And the South
and the West Winds, because they saw that
there was no advantage to be got out of the
conflict, and because they feared the other two
winds, gave a ready consent. So a peace was
presently concluded between them. And by
this peace it was agreed that the North and the
East Winds should possess the beautiful maiden
of the fair, smiling, sparkling countenance for
the greatest part of the year, and the South and
the West Winds for the rest. And because all
were a little jealous of one another, it was further
agreed that, sometimes, the winds should visit
the maiden in consort. That is to say, some-
times the East and the North Winds should go
together, and sometimes the South and the West.
And, as a variation of this plan, it was also con-
sented to by all, that, if at any time it seemed
good to them, the winds should have liberty to
visit the maiden in the order in which they had
fought. Then was peace concluded between the
winds and there was silence on Lochnagar.
This is the true tale of the Battle of the
Winds, which Ruadri, the son of Martach,
witnessed on Lochnagar. Stuart '■rskine.