overhead each cried a cry. The stork cried, The Tribe 



Styrk ham! Styrk ham! {i.e., Strengthen of the 



Him !), and so has this bird called ever since, Ploven 



and been under God's blessing and man's care. 



The swallow cried, Sval ham! Sval ham! (i.e., 



Cool or refresh Him !), and so is evermore 



known by that name, and likewise is loved by 



man and guided by God. But the weep 



wheeled about the Cross, shrieking derisively, 



Pun ham! Pun ham! (i.e., Pine Him, make 



Him suffer !), and so is not only accursed by 



men from then till now, but is under God's 



ban till the Last Day, after which the lapwing's 



wail will never be heard again. 



Although Guilbinn, or Wailing Music, is, 

 as I have said, the common Gaelic name for 

 the Curlew, as the Whaup in the lowlands, it 

 is also often called the Crann-toch, the long- 

 beaked one, or Coulter -neb, as they say in 

 Dumfries and Galloway. Of the mythical 

 origin of the name Crann-toch (a very obvious 

 designation, and needing no mythical legend 

 one would think) I remember hearing a year 

 or so ago from a boatman of Lismore a wild 

 and romantic legend, but it is too long to 

 quote now. Few Gaelic tales, few poems, in 

 which are not to be heard the voices of the 

 wind or the sea or the wailing curlew. We 

 have perhaps no bird more wild and solitary : 



109 



