Many suchnights followed, and in one terrible winter storm, when they nestledtogether on Carricknarone, the water froze into solid ice around them, andtheir feet and wings were so frozen to the rock that when they moved theyleft the skin of their feet, the quills of their wings, and the feathersof their breasts clinging there. When the ice melted, and they swam outinto the sea, their bodies smarted with pain until the feathers grew oncemore.One day they saw a glittering troop of horsemen approaching along theshore and knew that they were their own kindred, though from fargenerations back, the Dedannen or Fairy Host. They greeted each other withjoy, for the Fairy Host had been sent to seek for the swans; and onreturning to their chiefs they narrated what had passed, and the chiefssaid, "We cannot help them, but we are glad they are living; and we knowthat at last the enchantment will be broken and that they will be freedfrom their sorrows." So passed their lives until Finola sang, one day,"The Second Woe has passed--the second period of three hundred years,"when they flew out on the broad ocean, as was decreed, and went to theisland of Inis Glora. There they spent the next three hundred years, amidyet wilder storms and yet colder winds. No more the peaceful shepherds andliving neighbors were around them; but often the sailor and fisherman, inhis little coracle, saw the white gleam of their wings or heard the sweetnotes of their song and knew that the children of Lir were near.
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