198 By Stream and Sea. 



armed with, battle-axes, and attired in yellow vest, short 

 tunics, and shaggy cloaks, to burn, kill, and destroy. Shane's 

 successor, Lord O'Neill, dwells undisturbed on his estate, 

 and courteously allows the stranger to wander through the 

 demesne, inspect the interesting ruins, and capture the 

 speckled trout in the river, overhung with umbrageous 

 branches. Red Hand, forsooth ! The Rifle Club have 

 just broken up their encampment. 



Before re-entering our boat we are shown the remnants of 

 a carved head, whose fall, it is said, will be simultaneous 

 with the end of the ancient race. The Banshee of Shane's 

 Castle we did not hear, although its shriek, denoting im- 

 pending evil to an O'Neill, is, they say, sometimes to be 

 heard among the woods, upon the shore, along the ruined 

 walls of the falling castle, echoed by the vaults underneath, 

 and wailing through the nettle-covered graves of the de- 

 parted. 



There are some geological valuables associated with 

 Lough Neagh — pebbles of chalcedony, cornelian, opal, or 

 quartz, a couple of little islands, and a reputed quality in 

 the water of petrifying wood. And in the poem in which 

 Tom Moore calls upon Erin to remember the days of old, 

 and refers to the Knights of the Red Branch, an hereditary 

 order of chivalry known in Ulster before the birth of Christ, 

 he embodies the pretty legend of Lough Neagh — 



" On Lough Neagh's bank as the fisherman strays 

 When the clear cold eve's declining, 

 He sees the round towers of other days 

 In the wave beneath him shining ! " 

 « 



Ireland is worth living in, if only because of the cheap- 

 ness of its horse hire. But for this we might have felt con- 

 strained to deny ourselves a seat outside a jaunting car 



