An Fear a Mharaigh an Rón /
The Man who killed the Seal
Informant: Seán ‘Ac Anrias
Age: 82
Address: Barr na Coilleadh, Iorras, Co. Mayo
Collector: Mícheál Ó Sírín, National Folklore Collection, UCD
Date of Recording: 23/10/1951
Reference:

NFC 1208: 393-396

[Image courtesy of the Irish Seal Sanctuary]

An Fear a Mharaigh an Rón

Fadó insan tseanam bhíodh daoiní ag marú go leor rónta. Bhíodh siad dá bhfeannadh agus ag déanamh bástcótaí don chraiceann agus deir siad gur bástcóta craiceann róin an ball is teochta a fuair ar do cholainn ariamh. Chomh maith leis sin bhíodh siad dá leá agus ag baint olacha [olaí] astu agus is é an gnaithe a bhíodh acu gan de le haghaidh pianta cnámh. Deir siad go mbogann ola róin an cnámh.

An uair sin nuair a thagadh an galra scraitheach ar chaoirí ní raibh aon chaint ar dip ná fios acu céard a bhain dó. Séard a dhéanadh siad chuireadh siad an ola róin seo orthu agus deir siad nach raibh léamh ar an gcneasú a bhí inti. Bhí go leor daoiní a’ dhíothú na rónta.

Well bhí fear ina chónaí thall insan Ros in am, níl éinne dá chónaí ann anois, b’aniar as Tip a tháinig sé fhéin ann. Bhí sé póstaí agus bhí triúr mac aige agus ní raibh féim fiafraí air le gnaithí farraigí, bhí bád dá cuid fhéin aige agus é go maith as. Bhí sé lá ansin sa gcladach agus mharaigh sé rón agus bhí sé ar cheann do na rónta ba dheise a chonaic éinne ariamh, le gach uile chineál breacadh.

         “Well m’anam,” a deir sé, “go ndéanfadh a chraiceann bástcóta galanta dom.”

Thug sé leis abhaile é agus é sástaí go leor. Agus chaith sé thíos in éadan an tí é in áit na mbó. An uair sin bhíodh ba agus beithí’ agus muca agus ach aon tseort istigh ins na tithe ag na daoiní. As sin go trathnónaí tháinig an strainséaraí mná seo isteach aige. Níor aithnigh sé í, níor leag sé súil ariamh roimhe sin uirthi. Sheas sí le geall an dorais.

         “Suigh aníos ag an teinidh,” ar seisean léithi.

Shiúil sí aníos agus sheas sí le cúl a dá chois leis an teinidh. Bhí sí ag faire ina timpeall scaitheamh agus feiceann sí an rón síntí thíos in áit na mbó. Fuair sí síos agus chrom sí anuas os cionn an róin gur bhreathnaigh sí go maith [air]. Tháinig sí aníos ar ais agus sheas sí leis an teinidh agus dúirt;

          “A dhuine chóir,” ar sise, “is olc an saothar atá déanta inniu agat.”

         “Céard sin?” ar seisean.

“An rón sin a mharú,” ar sise, “agus coinnigh cuimhne ar an rud atá mé a’ rá leat,” ar sise, “ní bheidh sé mhí ó inniu go n-íocfaidh tú an saothar sin.”

Níor chuir ceachtar acu an scéal ní b’fhaide ná níor thug seisean go leor cluas leis an gcaint a dúirt sí. Bhí go maith agus ní raibh go dona ní sé mhí ón lá sin fuair sé fhéin agus a thriúr mac siar ar charraic ag baint sleamógaí [slámanna] gur lochtaigh siad an bád. Ach ag tíocht abhaile dófa tionntaíodh iad sa mBarra agus báitheadh iad agus bhí daoiní ag rá nach raibh siocair ar bith acu ach go gcaithfeadh sé go mba é gnaithiú an róin ba chiontaí leis.

The Man who killed the Seal

Long ago in old times people used to kill a lot of seals. They’d skin them and make waistcoats from the skin and they said a sealskin waistcoat was the warmest garment you could ever wear. They’d also melt them and take the oils from them, and they used it for pains in the bones. They said that oil from the seal loosens up the bones. At the time when scabs would appear on the sheep there was no dip and they didn’t know what had caused it. What they’d do was put oil from the seal on them and they’d say that there was no end to the cures in it. Many people were killing seals.

Well there was a man living over in Rossport at the time, there’s none of his family there now, he came from Tippe himself. He was married and he had three sons and he was familiar with the ways of the sea, he had his own boat and was well off. He was there on the shore one day and he killed a seal and it was one of the loveliest seals anyone had ever seen, with every kind of speckle.

         “Well by my soul,” he said, “that skin will make me a fine waistcoat.”

He took it home and he was happy with it. And he threw it down at the end of the house where the cows would be tied. At that time, large animals, cows and and pigs and all sorts would be inside the house with the people. That afternoon a stranger came in to him. He didn’t recognise her, he’d never set eyes on her before then. She stood by the door.

         “Sit down by the fire,” he said to her.

She walked down and she stood with her back to the fire. She was looking around her a while and she saw the seal stretched out in the place for the cows. She went down and she bent down over the seal and took a good look at him. She came back again and she stood by the fire and said;

         “My good fellow,” she said, “it is bad work you’ve done today.”

         “What’s that?” he said.

“Killing that seal,” she said, “and remember what I’m telling you now,” she said, “it won’t be six months from today when you’ll pay for what you’ve done.”

Neither of them discussed it anymore and he didn’t pay enough heed to what she said. All was well and not six months from that day himself and his sons were out past the rock collecting seaweed when they damaged the boat. But as they were coming home they turned in the Bar and they drowned. People said they had done no other wrong and that it had to have been the business with the seal that caused it.