7 



Chapter 



FIRST ACROSS THE ATLANTIC 



T. 



HEY called them the Summer Sailors. They made the 

 warm days in spring — that had ever before been a joy to Irish hearts 

 — a period of apprehension or terror. No one could say where or 

 when they would appear but all knew that, year by year, some section 

 of the coast would be visited by barbarian heathens. 



In some quiet dawn the warm sea breaking along the shore would 

 be sending up thin veils of mist to hide the harbor cove and the little 

 town along its shore that lived by fishing in the sea and grazing 

 cattle in fields that sloped seaward. It might be that Ilah, who had 

 gone into the fields to milk the kine, would be looking up to see the 

 early sun shining on the mist and instead, there over the mist her 

 eyes would fasten in horror on the grotesque head of a sea serpent. 

 For a space all would be silent while she helplessly watched the 

 horns, bright eyes and the red mouth move steadily and silendy into 

 the cove. Then, faintly over the sound of the waves along the shore, 

 she could hear from the ship beneath the dragon head the muffled 

 movement of the oars in the tholes, the creak of the steering oar as 

 it turned a little on its boss, and low gruff voices. She couldn't decide 

 whether she should scream to warn the village or keep quiet and 

 try to save herself. Then she reaUzed she was already screaming and 

 it was too late. The ship had grated to a stop on the shingle beach, 

 the big men dropping and jumping from her high prow and spread- 

 ing out into the fields. The girls who had come into the field would 



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