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Our warrior kings had noble queens to rule their households, and of these none stands out so distinctly after long lapse of time as Gormlai, the daughter of Flann Siona, and wife of Nial Glondubh. Her story has in it that element of romance which touches the heart and wins the sympathy of all who hear it.
"Isn't this a charming valley?" Siona took up the cue. "Isn't it! It's romantic enough to be the back-drop in a Bret Harte play. I love it!" Moore turned to Wayland. "I know a Norcross, a Michigan lumberman, Vice-President of the Association. Is he, by any chance, a relative?" "Only a father," retorted Wayland, with a smile. "But don't hold me responsible for anything he has done.
We'll have to be moving on. We're going into camp at the mouth of the West Fork," he said, as he rose. "Tell Tony and the Supervisor that we want to line out that timber at the earliest possible moment." Siona, who was now distinctly coquetting with Wayland, held out her hand. "I hope you'll find time to come up and see us. I know we have other mutual friends, if we had time to get at them."
She washed her face and hands in Settle's tin basin, but drew the line at his rubber comb. There was a distinct charm in seeing her thus adapting herself to the cabin, a charm quite as powerful as that which emanated from Siona Moore's dainty and theatrical personality.
The first act of Flan Siona, on his accession, was to dash into Munster, demanding hostages at the point of the sword, and sweeping over both Thomond and Desmond with irresistible force, from Clare to Cork. With equal promptitude he marched through every territory of Ulster, securing, by the pledges of their heirs and Tanists, the chiefs of the elder tribes of the Hy-Nial.
The first act of Flan Siona, on his accession, was to dash into Munster, demanding hostages at the point of the sword, and sweeping over both Thomond and Desmond with irresistible force, from Clare to Cork. With equal promptitude he marched through every territory of Ulster, securing, by the pledges of their heirs and Tanists, the chiefs of the elder tribes of the Hy-Nial.
"SIONA, mourn not! where I go The warriors feel nor pain nor woe; They raise aloft the gleaming steel, Their wounds, though warm, untended heal; Their arrows bellow through the air In showers, as they battle there; In mighty cups their wine is pour'd, Bright virgins throng their midnight board!
It was still early morning as they mounted and set off up the trail; but Moore's camp was astir, and as McFarlane turned in much against Berrie's will the lumberman and his daughter both came out to meet them. "Come in and have some breakfast," said Siona, with cordial inclusiveness, while her eyes met Wayland's glance with mocking glee. "Thank you," said McFarlane, "we can't stop.
He estimated precisely the value of the malicious parting words of Siona Moore. "She's a natural tease, the kind of woman who loves to torment other and less fortunate women. She cares nothing for me, of course, it's just her way of paying off old scores. It would seem that Berrie has not encouraged her advances in times past."
"Sure thing," she called out. "Slide down and come in." Moore removed his hat and bowed. "Good morning, Miss McFarlane, I didn't know you were here. You know my daughter Siona?" Berrie nodded coldly. "I've met her." He indicated the other woman. "And Mrs. Belden, of course, you know." Mrs.
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