Book of Conach

Chapter 13

Of a man struck by a stone thrown by Conach

The people of the glen knew that Conach desired above all things to be alone. For the most part they respected his wishes and did not disturb him in his forest abode. They communicated with him only through his servant, who went between that place and their village. But on one occasion some of the men, curious to see how he lived, came to enjoy his wisdom and, as they hoped, to receive his blessing. They even, without permission, entered into his cabin, where he was at prayer. Astonished at their audacity, Conach flew into a great rage and cast them forth, and would not bless them. For, he said, they came not in humility but as gapers and thieves, to steal his tranquillity and carry stories back to their families. And he pursued them from his cabin and threw stones at them as they ran away.

Now it happened that one of the stones struck a man on the head, and he fell to the ground. His companions, seeing that he lay motionless, returned and sought to rouse him, and when he could not be roused they lifted him to carry him away. They said to Conach, ‘See what you have done.’ And Conach stood before them and cried out, ‘Now you have caused me to break my vow never to use a weapon against another living creature. Lay down your friend and let me tend him, as once before I tended a wounded hare.’ But they said, ‘He is not wounded. He is dead.’

Conach wept. Then, putting his anguish aside, he laid his hand upon the wound that the stone had made, and said, ‘Lord Jesus Christ, forgive Thy servant who in his righteous fury hath done this wicked thing. Let him abase himself and be punished as Thou seest fit, but spare the life of this man.’

Then before their eyes the man who was dead began to groan, and sat up and rubbed his head. And when he saw the blood on his hand he said unto Conach, ‘Father, do not be angry with me. We should not have come.’

And Conach said, ‘My anger is all spent.’ And forthwith his friends carried the man home, and Conach departed into a field of nettles, grasping them in great handfuls until his hands were so swollen that he could not close them. Then he took off his robe and lay among the nettles, first on his back and then on his belly, and made long prayers to God in gratitude for saving the man he had struck with the stone.

When Talorg his servant found him later, he hardly knew him, so swollen and empurpled was he by the stings of the nettles. And Talorg wished to bathe his body and cool the heat of the stings, but Conach forbade him. ‘Then,’ Talorg said, ‘surely you have punished yourself more even than God would wish, for did you not repent of your anger?’ But Conach said, ‘My punishment is not one hundredth of what I deserve for my sins.’

Chapter 14

Of a conversation between Conach and a wolf

It is said that one of the blessed hermit’s great gifts was an ability to communicate with animals. I know not how this was accomplished, whether by speech or some other means, but he would sometimes be found standing or sitting close to a deer, a bird or some other wild beast, which was not at all afraid of him. These creatures would even take food from his hand or allow themselves to be stroked by him, but would flee as soon as another human approached.

Once, so I have heard, Conach was alone upon the mountain when he met a wolf carrying two dead lambs in her mouth. Conach rebuked the creature for stealing from his friends, the people of the glen, but the wolf spoke back, asking how else she should feed her cubs. Conach said that the earth was home to all kinds of animals, each species with its own station in the order of life, and that she should eat only the wild beasts that were her natural prey. ‘It is natural to eat what is most easily taken,’ the wolf said. ‘But this sets you and your kind against man,’ Conach replied, ‘and a day will come, if you do not change your ways, when men will kill all your children’s children and not one of them shall be left alive.’ ‘This they will try to do whether I change or not,’ said the wolf, ‘for men are more cruel than we are, and their hatred for us is without limit.’ ‘I do not hate you,’ Conach said. ‘Yet I say to you, if you resist temptation and steal no more, and stay away from human habitation, your children and their children will be in less danger.’ ‘You speak of temptation,’ the wolf replied, ‘but a wolf is not tempted. My sole intent is to defeat my enemy, hunger, and to feed my children. Who visits temptation upon me?’

Then Conach said, ‘You are both more and less wise than I am, because you know nothing of good and evil. My God is your God, for He made you, but you do not know Him. Now I ask God to intercede between you and my friends who hate you. I tell you this, if you let go the lambs you hold in your mouth and promise to steal no more of them, your den will be filled with food for you and your cubs.’ The wolf said, ‘You are wiser than I am, Conach, and because you do not hate me I will do as you ask. But you are also more foolish, because these lambs are dead.’ No sooner did she lay them on the ground, however, than they sprang to life and ran away down the mountain. Then the wolf complained to Conach that her cubs would starve, but he told her to go home and see if they were hungry. So she went, and found all manner of food in the den, and her cubs fat, full and contented. And it is said that ever since that time no sheep or lamb has been taken by a wolf in the glen.