Ossian Collection > Galic antiquities

338 CATHLAVA:
Lava ; for my wrath is kindled againft his race, at the mention of
the wars of Ullin. It was returning thence his father purfued the
deer of our hills, and fought my early death. I was young ; I
could lift no fpear, nor draw from its fheath the fword. One of
his men had pity on my youth ; he faved me from Lava's fpear.
Our arms are ftill in his halls ; my father did not live to demand
them.
— But what low and broken voice is that from the heath ? Dofl
thou not perceive that aged warrior drawing near ? His one hand
feems guided by a child ; on a fpear, that feems a burden, leans the
other. Every little rill flops his pace, and on the withered furze
the aged Mumbles. — Who art thou, aged wanderer of the night ?
Why fo late on the lonely heath ? Haft thou loft the delight of thy
foul ; or haft thou caufe of wo, like me ?
" I thought I hearda voice. Thou knoweft, my child, the voice
of thy father. Was it not he, bidding me to follow him to the
place of his repofe ?"
" No ; for I loved my father's voice, and I love not that which
I hear. Their arms are like my father's arms ; but their voice is
like the voice of ftrangers."
" And dofl thou fee their arms ? Then fly, my child ; for they
are fent by Lava. Fly thou ; and, if they will, let them flay me ;
for the place is good ; I feel the tomb of thy father."
The child with terror flew. The aged, trembling, flood. He
flood, like the dun red-crefted fowl of the heath, when die hunt-
er, vinperceived, comes nigh her brown fons. Quick, fhe bids
her