Fairy Tales, Now First Collected/Tale 23
TALE XXIII.
THE HORN.
A young sailor, coming off a long voyage, though it was late at night, chose to land rather than lie another night in the vessel: being permitted to do so, he was set on shore at Duglas. It happened to be a fine moon-light night, and very dry, being a small frost; he, therefore, forbore going into any house to refresh himself, but made the best of his way to the house of a sister he had at Kirk-Merlugh. As he was going over a pretty high mountain, he heard the noise of horses, the halloo of a huntsman, and the finest horn in the world. He was a little surprised that any body pursued those kind of sports in the night, but he had not time for much reflection before they all passed by him, so near, that he was able to count what number there was of them, which, he said, was thirteen, and that they were all dressed in green, and gallantly mounted. He was so well pleased with the sight, that he would gladly have followed, could he have kept pace with them; he crossed the foot-way, however, that he might see them again, which he did more than once, and lost not the sound of the horn for some miles. At length, being arrived at his sisters, he tells her the story, who, presently, clapped her hands for joy that he was come home safe; For, said she, those you saw were fairies, and 'tis well they did not take you away with them.[1]
- ↑ Idem, u. s. p 64.