.

Enda took the little panting trout in his hand; but as he did so he
heard, quite close to him, in the lake, a sound like that of water
plashing upon water, and he saw the widening circles caused by a trout
which had just risen to a fly; and he said to the little trout he held
in his hand:

"I won't keep you, poor thing! Perhaps that was a little comrade come
to look for you, and so I'll send you back to him."

And saying this, he dropped the little trout into the lake.

Well, when the next evening came, again Enda was lying stretched
outside the hut, and once more he heard the rustle in the sedge, and
once more the otter came and flung the little trout almost into his
hands.

Enda, more surprised than ever, did not know what to do. He saw that
it was the same little trout the otter had brought him the night
before, and he said:

"Well, I gave you a chance last night. I'll give you another, if only
to see what will come of it."

And he dropped the trout into the lake; but no sooner had it touched
the waters than it was changed into a beautiful, milk-white swan. And
Enda could hardly believe his eyes, as he saw it sailing across the
lake, until it was lost in the sedges growing by the shore.

All that night he lay awake, thinking of what he had seen, and as soon
as the morning stood on the hill-tops, and cast its shafts of golden
light across the lake, Enda rose and got into his curragh.

He rowed all round the shores, beating the sedges with his oar, in
pursuit of the swan; but all in vain; he could not catch a glimpse of
her white plumage anywhere. Day after day he rowed about the lake in
search of her, and every evening he lay outside the hut watching the
waters. At long last, one night, when the full moon, rising above the
mountains, flooded the whole lake with light, he saw the swan coming
swiftly towards him, shining brighter than the moonbeams. The swan
came on until it was almost within a boat's length of the hut; and
what should Enda hear but the swan speaking to him in his own
language:

"Get into your curragh, Enda, and follow me," said she, and, saying
this, she turned round and sailed away.

Enda jumped into the curragh, and soon the water, dripping from his
oar, was flashing like diamonds in the moonlight. And he rowed after
the swan, who glided on before him, until she came to where the
shadows of the mountains lay deepest on the lake. Then the swan
rested, and when Enda came up to her: