October 26. Story of the Day: Cold May Night

I read this story in Folktales Told around the World by Richard M. Dorson (pp. 6-9), who took the story from Folktales of Ireland by Sean O'Sullivan, and his source in turn is Micheal O Coileain, aged 70, as recorded in 1946. For ancient testimony about this story, see The Adventures of Leithin by Douglas Hyde in the Celtic Review 10 (online at Hathi).

The story is set on the island off Achill, which is the largest of the "Irish Isles" off the Mayo coast; you can read more at Wikipedia. Old May night refers to the night of May 11, which is to say it is the old May 1 (Beltane) in the new style calendar following 1750.

The story is classified as ATU 1927.

The version below is a paraphrase of the story in my own words. I have emphasized the formulaic/cumulative features of the story in my version. I took the detail of the salmon's blood from the ATU summary (in other respects, I followed this story, which is quite different from the ATU summary with the crow-eagle framework).

Looking for more stories? Click here for previous Stories-of-the-Day.


The Cold May Night
(retold by Laura Gibbs)


There are cold nights, and colder nights, and the coldest night of all happened long, long ago on Old May Night. Who remembers the coldest night? Only the oldest animals can remember the coldest night. The Old Crow of Achill Island is one of them. But he was younger then, and stronger. Now the cold bothers him. 

One cold night not so long ago the Old Crow of the Island sought shelter in an eagle's nest that he found high atop the tallest tree. The Eagle was away hunting, and there was a hungry chick awaiting her return. The Crow killed the chick and took its place, settling himself down deep into the nest.

Not long after, the Eagle returned with food for her chick. In the dark, she did not notice that it was the Crow instead of her chick who took the food and ate it hungrily. She then settled down into the nest herself, complaining that she had never felt a colder night. 

The Crow kept quiet. 

Yet as the Eagle went on and on and on and on about the cold, the Crow could not contain himself and grumbled, "I've known colder."

"What are you talking about? You hatched only a few weeks ago!"

"Oh, there was a colder night. It was on Old May Night," the Crow replied.

"How would a young chick like yourself know anything about that?" retorted the Eagle.

They argued until dawn. Finally the Crow said to the Eagle, "If you don't believe me, go ask the Blackbird of the Forge."

So the Eagle flew off to question the Blackbird of the Forge. "Listen," said the Eagle, "I cannot remember a colder night than last night, but my chick tells me that there was an Old May Night that was colder still. He's only a few weeks old himself, so I can hardly believe him, but he told me to come ask you. And here I am."

The Blackbird of the Forge thought for a moment and then replied, "Last night was the coldest night that I have ever known, and I have been alive a very long time. Do you see this iron rod which is my perch? Every seven years, I rub my beak against the rod. It used to be many inches thick, but now it is so thin that if I rub my beak on it just one more time, it will break; that is how long I have perched here, and I have never known a colder night than last night. But if you don't believe me, go ask the Bull in the Field."

The Eagle thanked the Blackbird of the Forge and flew off to question the Bull in the Field. "Listen," said the Eagle, "I cannot remember a colder night than last night, but my chick tells me that there was an Old May Night that was colder still. He's only a few weeks old himself, so I can hardly believe him, but he told me to go ask the Blackbird of the Forge. The Blackbird does not remember a colder night than last night, but she told me to come ask you. And here I am."

The Bull of the Field thought for a moment and then replied, "Last night was the coldest night that I have ever known, and I have been alive a very long time. Do you see the fence which surrounds this field? It is made up of my horns. Every  year, I shed my horns, and when I shed my two horns this year, the fence around the field will be complete; that is how long I have dwelled here, and I have never known a colder night than last night. But if you don't believe me, go ask the Blind Salmon of the Waterfall."

The Eagle thanked the Bull in the Field and flew off to question the Blind Salmon of the Waterfall. "Listen," said the Eagle, "I cannot remember a colder night than last night, but my chick tells me that there was an Old May Night that was colder still. He's only a few weeks old himself, so I can hardly believe him, but he told me to go ask the Blackbird of the Forge. The Blackbird does not remember a colder night than last night, but she told me to go ask the Bull in the Field. The Bull does not remember a colder night than last night, but he told me to come ask you. And here I am."

The Blind Salmon of the Waterfall thought for a moment and then replied, "Yes, there was a night that was colder than last night. It was on Old May Night, many years ago. I was leaping about just trying to keep warm when the water froze right under me and I landed on the ice. Around dawn, the Old Crow flew by, and he saw me there on the ice. He swooped down and started pecking out my eye. Luckily for me, the blood coming out of my eye warmed the ice beneath me, and I was able to escape back into the water. That's how I became blind in that eye, and that's also how I know it must have been the Old Crow of the Island, and not your chick, who spent last night in your nest."

"No!" screamed the Eagle. She rushed back to her nest, but it was empty. Her chick was gone. So was the Old Crow.

And there has never been a night as cold again as that Old May Night of long ago.


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