D’imi sé air a’ siúl riamh is choíche a’ lorg máistir a thógfadh é chun oibre. Bhí teipithe air, agus i ndeire bárra do casag a’ triall ar fheirmeoir é go raibh stoc muar a’ teacht sa chlós chuige um thráthnóna. Do thug sé fé ndeara an stoc breá, agus duairt leis an bhfeirmeoir:
‘Is breá an stoc iad so agat.’
‘Táid siad go maith,’ aduairt an feirmeoir, ‘dá mbeadh duine agam a dhéanfadh iad d’aeireacht, ach níl.’
‘Canathaobh san?’ aduairt an garsún—nú Seán is cóir duinn a thúirt air mar b’ea thugaithaí air.
‘Airiú, a lithéid seo,’ ar sisean. ‘Tá coíll anso im aice. Athaig athá chun cónaig inti, agus ní fhanfadh éinne ag aeireacht stuic agamsa le heagla go raghadh aon bhó acu san isteach i gcoíll na n-uthach, mar dá raghadh ceann acu ann níor bheag san,’ aduairt sé — ‘do mharóidís an t-aeire.’
‘Agus a’ dtúrfá tuarastal maith?’ aduairt Seán.
‘Pé tuarastal ba mhaith leat,’ aduairt sé, ‘dá bhfantá á bhfeighilth agus gan iad a leogaint sa choill.’
‘Fanfad,’ aduairt sé.
Shocraíodar ar thuarastal mhaith le chéle, agus ar maidin larnamháireach do scaoileag amach na ba chuige nuair a bhíodar crúite.
‘Imig ort anois leo,’ aduairt an feirmeoir, agus thiospeáin dò cá gcomáinfeadh sé na ba. ‘Féatair gach aon áit eile bheith agat dóibh,’ aduairt sé, ‘ach seachain an choíll. Ná leog isteach iad.’
Chomáin sé leis na ba agus b’é an chéad rud a dhin sé iad a dhridiúint fé dhéin na coille. Ní raghadh na ba isteach mar bhí ana-dhaingean ar a’ gcóill, ach má bhí ba ghairid a’ mhoíll ar Sheán beárna a réaba isteach inti. Tháini sé ar a dtaobh amù dhíobh is chomáin an eile bhó acu isteach inti!
Bhíodar istig: fuíollach féir agus fothana acu: Seán ’na shuí ar a’ gclaí a’ féachaint orthu.
Airiú! Ba ghairid gur airig sé chuige an siot, an fuaim ’s an fothrom ag an uthàch muar go raibh ceann muar air agus aon tsúil amháin i gclár a éadain.
‘Airiú,’ ar sisean, ‘a rud anacraig! Cad a bheir duit na ba san a leogaint isteach im choíll? —agus díolfair as anois!’
Do thosna sé féin is Seán ar a chéile agus níor bh’fhada i n-aochor gur bhuin Seán an ceann de.
Do tharraig sé gad sceiche gan scotha trína chluais agus do cheangail anáirde ar chrann é.
Nuair a tháinig an tráthnóna do chomáin sé leis abhaile na ba, agus nuair a chuaig na mná a’ crú na mbó do bhí úna orthu canathaobh go raibh oiread bainne acu, níos mó ná mar a bhíodh aon lá eile. D'inseadar d’fhear a’ tí é agus d’fhiafra sé do Sheán:
‘A Sheáin, ní hé go mbeadh na ba leogaithe i gcoíll na n-uthàch agat?’
‘Ó, ní rabhdar,’ aduairt Seán, ‘ná ní leogfadh eagla dhom é!’
‘Ó, is maith an buachaill,’ aduairt sé.
He set off walking non-stop looking for an employer who would hire him for work. He had failed, and finally he happened to meet a farmer who had a large herd coming into the yard to him in the evening. He noticed the fine herd, and he said to the farmer:
‘These are fine stock that you have.’
‘They’re good,’ said the farmer, ‘if I had someone who would look after them, but I haven’t.’
‘Why is that?’ said the lad—'or we should call him Seán, for that is what he used to be called.’
‘Ah, this is how it is’, says he. ‘There is a wood here beside me. Giants live in it, and no one would stay with me herding stock for fear that one of the cows would go into the giants’ forest, for if one of them went in, that would be enough!’, he said —'they would kill the herder.’
‘And would you pay a good salary?’ said Seán.
‘Whatever pay you would want’, said he, ‘if you should stay herding them and not let them into the wood.’
‘I will’, said he.
They agreed on a good salary, and the next morning the cows were released to him when they were milked.
‘Go off with them now,’ said the farmer, and he showed him where he should drive the cows. ‘You can have every other place for them,’ said he, ‘but avoid the wood. Do not let them in.’
He drove off the cows, and the first thing that he did was to move them toward the wood. The cows would not go in, because the wood was stoutly fenced, but nevertheless, it took Seán no time at all to break a gap into it. He came outside them, and he drove every single one of the cows into it!
They were inside: they had plenty of grass and shelter: Seán sitting on the fence watching them.
Alas! It wasn't long before he heard approaching him the noise and sound and the din of the huge giant who had a huge head on him and one single eye in his forehead.
‘Well!’ says he [the giant], ‘you puny thing! What is it that caused you to let those cows into my wood? — and you shall pay for it now!’
He and Seán went at each other, and it wasn’t long at all before Seán cut the head off of him. He drew a withe of an untrimmed thornbush through his ear and he tied it up on the tree. When the evening came, he drove the cows on home, and when the women set to milking the cows they wondered why they had so much milk, more than they used to have any other day. They told this to the man of the house and he asked Seán:
‘Seán, you wouldn’t by any chance have let the cows into the giants’ wood?'
‘Ó, they were not [in the wood],’ said Seán, ‘nor would the fear let me do it!’
‘Oh, good lad,’ he said.
Translation: Dr M. Griffin-Wilson, with the helpful expertise of Dr Seán Ua Súilleabháin.
