let us fly to the Hill of the White Field, and see how Lir our father
and his household are faring." So they arose and set forward on their
airy journey until they reached the Hill of the White Field, and thus
it was that they found the place: namely, desolate and thorny before
them, with nought but green mounds where once were the palaces and
homes of their kin, and forests of nettles growing over them, and
never a house nor a hearth. And the four drew closely together and
lamented aloud at that sight, for they knew that old times and things
had passed away in Erinn, and they were lonely in a land of strangers,
where no man lived who could recognise them when they came to their
human shapes again. They knew not that Lir and their kin of the People
of Dana yet dwelt invisible in the bright world within the Fairy
Mounds, for their eyes were holden that they should not see, since
other things were destined for them than to join the Danaan folk and
be of the company of the immortal Shee.

So they went back again to the Western Sea until the holy Patrick
came into Ireland and preached the Faith of the One God and of the
Christ. But a man of Patrick's men, namely the Saint Mochaovóg,[12]
came to the Island of Inishglory in Erris Bay, and there built himself
a little church of stone, and spent his life in preaching to the folk
and in prayer. The first night he came to the island the swans heard
the sound of his bell ringing at matins on the following morn, and
they leaped in terror, and the three brethren left Fionnuala and fled
away. Fionnuala cried to them, "What ails you, beloved brothers?" "We
know not," said they, "but we have heard a thin and dreadful voice,
and we cannot tell what it is." "That is the voice of the bell of
Mochaovóg," said Fionnuala, "and it is that bell which shall deliver
us and drive away our pains, according to the will of God."