Thus furnished, they go to an island close by, which he has pointed out
to them as the place where they are to remain until the following noon.
This island is destitute of grass, and with but scanty vegetation, and
there is no sand upon its shores. All goes well until the next day, when
they light a fire to boil the pot, whereupon the island becomes restive,
and finally sinks into the sea, although they all manage to escape into
the ship. '"Brethren," saith Brendan, "ye wonder at that which this
island hath done." "Father," say they, "we wonder sorely, and great
dread hath taken hold upon us." He said unto them, "Little children, be
not afraid, for God hath this night shown unto me the secret of this
thing. Where we have been was not an island but the first fish of all
that swim in the ocean, and he seeketh ever to bring his tail unto his
mouth, but he cannot, because of his length. Jasconius is his name."'

This is the only incident in the whole romance which is actually
grotesque. But from the solemnity with which it is narrated, it is
evident that it did not appear to be grotesque to the author. It seems
to have taken the fancy of the early and mediæval public, and even of
the iconographic public in a special degree. The word _whale_ has
commonly been applied to the beast, and as the same episode occurs in
the story of _Sinbad the Sailor_, Jubinal has set himself to speculate
how that story, or the _Arabian Nights_ in which it is incorporated,
came to be known in Ireland. I confess I do not agree with him. In the
first place, the notion is not particularly recondite, and it has at
least this possible foundation in fact, that, as I have been told by
sailors, the back of a whale of advanced years, when asleep at the
surface, may be and has been mistaken from some distance, greatly owing
to the accretions upon it, for the top of a reef. Again, a somewhat
similar notion occurs in Lucian's _Traveller's Tale_, which was much
more likely to be known to the Irish fabulist. Lastly, I must observe