When Bodhbh Dearg went to Lough Derravaragh, where he encamped and listened to the swan-music, which calmed his sorrow. From that time on the Tuatha Dé Danann would come to the strand to listen to their singing, and the Gaels too as the years went past, because no one had ever heard such delightful harmonies of sound to enchant the ear and fill the mind with pleasure. Not only did their singing allay the distress of even the most unhappy man or woman, the swans also recited stories and poems and held conversations with learned men and their students. So they continued for three hundred years until one night Fionnuala said to the others;

"Did you know this is our last night here?"

They did not, and the three boys were saddened because being in contact with the Tuatha Dé Danann and even the Gaels was closer to being human than to be out on the fierce waters of the Sea of Moyle. In the morning they swam to the strand where Lir and Bodhbh Dearg were standing and they sang a poem of farewell before taking off together into the bitter sky northwards to Moyle. They were sorely missed by everyone, and it was decreed from that day forward that no-one in Ireland should ever kill a swan, on pain of death or the most severe penalty.

When the four birds saw the bare cliffs and cold sea of Moyle they were filled with dismay. They settled into the freezing water, and their webs and wings grew numb with the shock. It took them a long time to grow used to the cold.

After a few months had passed there came a storm of thunder, snow, and terrible winds. Fionnuala said to her brothers, between the peals of thunder and the shrieking gusts, that they would probably be separated in the tempest, and that they should decide on one place where they would meet again: "Let us meet at Seal Rock, as we all know where that is," she said.

Throughout the night the wind howled, the waves boiled in a white seething foam, driving every way; the lightning flashed, its brilliant light only showing the heaving masses of water. The four were scattered miles apart. As morning broke a slow calm settled on the sea and Fionnuala, alone on the stilling waters, sang a lament for her lost brothers. All through that day and the following night she stayed at Seal Rock. On the second morning she saw Conn toiling towards her, his head hanging down, his plumage all bedraggled. Her heart leapt when she saw him coming towards her in the morning light. Then, next, Fiachra arrived, so cold and tired he could not speak a word to her or to Conn. Fionnuala spread her wings to cover them both, and warm them.

> > > Read part 5 of this article.