The Giant's Causeway

Long ago, when giants roamed the lands of Ireland and Scotland, there lived on the coast of Northern Ireland the mightiest giant of them all – Finn McCool. Finn was not only enormous in size but also enormous in strength, courage, and unfortunately, pride. He stood as tall as the ancient oak trees, and his voice could be heard from one end of County Antrim to the other.

Finn lived in a comfortable home on the Irish coast with his clever wife, Oonagh, who was known throughout the land for her wisdom and quick thinking. While Finn was certainly brave and strong, it was often Oonagh’s cleverness that got them out of the most difficult situations.

Now, across the narrow sea that separated Ireland from Scotland, there lived another giant named Benandonner, also known as the Red Man because of his fiery red hair and beard. Benandonner was even larger and stronger than Finn, and he had heard tales of the Irish giant who boasted of being the mightiest in all the lands.

One day, as Finn stood on the cliffs of Ireland looking across the water toward Scotland, he could see Benandonner on the Scottish shore. The sight of his rival filled Finn with such anger and competitive spirit that he began hurling rocks across the sea, challenging the Scottish giant to come and fight.

“Come over here, you overgrown Scottish oaf!” Finn bellowed across the water. “Let’s settle once and for all who is the strongest giant in these lands!”

Benandonner heard the challenge and roared back, “I would gladly come and crush you like a bug, you Irish boaster, but there’s no way across this water!”

This gave Finn an idea. In his pride and eagerness to prove himself, he declared, “Then I’ll build a bridge for you! I’ll make a causeway of stones so you can walk across and face me!”

And so Finn began his great work. Day and night he labored, lifting enormous stones from the earth and placing them carefully in the sea. These were not ordinary stones, but massive hexagonal columns of rock that fitted together perfectly, like pieces of a giant’s puzzle.

The work was backbreaking, even for a giant. Finn would wade deep into the cold ocean waters, carrying stones that would have taken a hundred ordinary men to lift. One by one, he placed them in perfect lines stretching out toward Scotland. The columns were so perfectly shaped and fitted that they formed stepping stones a giant could walk upon.

As he worked, sea birds circled overhead, amazed by the sight of a giant building a bridge across the ocean. Fish swam up to investigate the strange new pathway appearing in their domain. Even the seals gathered to watch this unprecedented feat of construction.

For weeks Finn toiled, and the causeway grew longer and longer, reaching out toward the Scottish shore. When he grew tired, he would rest on the rocks and eat enormous meals that Oonagh prepared for him, washing them down with barrels of fresh water.

Finally, after months of labor, the causeway was complete. A magnificent bridge of stone columns stretched across the sea from Ireland to Scotland, wide enough and strong enough for even the largest giant to cross.

“There!” Finn shouted across the water. “Now you have no excuse, Benandonner! Come across and face me!”

But as Finn stood admiring his handiwork, Benandonner appeared on the Scottish shore, preparing to cross. For the first time, Finn could see his rival clearly, and his heart nearly stopped with fear. Benandonner was absolutely enormous – much larger than Finn had imagined. The Scottish giant was at least twice Finn’s size, with arms like tree trunks and fists like boulders.

“Oh, my,” Finn whispered to himself. “What have I done?”

Trying not to show his fear, Finn called out bravely, “I’ll be waiting for you, Benandonner!” But then he turned and ran home as fast as his giant legs could carry him.

“Oonagh!” he cried as he burst through the door of their home. “I’m in terrible trouble! I’ve built a causeway to Scotland, and now that massive giant Benandonner is coming to fight me. He’s twice my size! What am I going to do?”

Oonagh looked at her panic-stricken husband and shook her head with a knowing smile. “Oh, Finn, your pride has gotten you into quite a mess this time. But don’t worry – I have an idea that might save you.”

Quickly, Oonagh set to work. She had Finn help her push their largest table against the wall, then she gathered every blanket and sheet in the house. Working swiftly, she fashioned what looked like an enormous baby’s crib.

“Now, Finn,” she said, “you must do exactly as I say. Put on this white nightgown and bonnet, and get into this crib. When Benandonner arrives, you must pretend to be our baby son. No matter what happens, you must not speak or get up. Can you do that?”

Finn looked doubtful. “Oonagh, I’m a giant! How can I pretend to be a baby?”

“Trust me,” Oonagh said firmly. “It’s our only hope.”

Just as Finn climbed into the makeshift crib and pulled the enormous blankets up to his chin, they heard thunderous footsteps approaching. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The ground shook with each step, and their house trembled as if in an earthquake.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! The pounding on their door was so loud it nearly shattered the windows.

Oonagh calmly smoothed her dress and opened the door. There stood Benandonner, red-faced and furious, so tall that he had to duck down to see into their house.

“Where is that coward Finn McCool?” roared Benandonner. “I’ve come across his bridge to fight him, and I find his house empty except for a woman!”

“Oh, you must be Benandonner,” Oonagh said politely, as if receiving any ordinary visitor. “I’m so sorry, but my husband Finn has gone out for a walk. He should be back soon. Why don’t you come in and wait? You must be tired after your long journey.”

Benandonner had to crawl on his hands and knees to get through the doorway. Once inside, he stood up and looked around suspiciously.

“This place is certainly big enough for a giant,” he admitted.

“Oh yes,” Oonagh replied cheerfully. “Everything has to be extra large in our house. Would you like some refreshment? I was just making some griddle cakes for my husband’s lunch.”

As she spoke, Oonagh was working at her stove, but she was doing something very strange. She was baking griddle cakes, but in some of them she was placing iron griddle pans, baking them right into the cakes so they couldn’t be seen.

“Here you are,” she said, offering Benandonner a plate of the cakes with the iron hidden inside. “Try these. They’re Finn’s favorite.”

Benandonner bit down hard on one of the cakes and immediately cried out in pain. “OWWW! What kind of food is this? I’ve nearly broken my teeth!”

“Oh my,” said Oonagh innocently. “I’m so sorry. Perhaps they’re a bit too crispy. My husband loves them hard like that – he says soft food is for weaklings. Here, let me give you some of our baby’s food instead. It might be more to your taste.”

She handed him one of the cakes without iron in it, and Benandonner found it delicious and soft.

“Your baby eats softer food than your husband?” Benandonner asked, confused.

“Oh yes,” Oonagh replied. “The poor child hasn’t developed his father’s strong teeth yet. Speaking of which, would you like to see our little boy? He’s just having his nap.”

She led the puzzled Benandonner over to the crib where Finn lay hidden under the blankets.

Benandonner peered down at what he thought was a baby and gasped in shock. “Great heavens! That’s the biggest baby I’ve ever seen in my life!”

“Yes, he is quite large for his age,” Oonagh said proudly. “He takes after his father. Feel those muscles!”

Benandonner reached down and felt Finn’s arm. Even relaxed, Finn’s muscles were enormous.

“If this is the size of Finn McCool’s baby,” Benandonner thought to himself, “how big must Finn McCool himself be?”

The more he thought about it, the more nervous Benandonner became. He began to pace around the room, and with each step, his worry grew.

“Perhaps,” he said to Oonagh, “I should come back another time when your husband is home.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Oonagh replied. “He was so looking forward to meeting you. He’s been practicing his grip lately. Here, let me show you.”

She led Benandonner to a stone in the wall where Finn had once placed his hand, leaving a perfect handprint pressed into the solid rock.

“He did that just by squeezing,” Oonagh explained casually.

Benandonner stared at the handprint. It was much larger than his own massive hand.

That was enough for the Scottish giant. “I just remembered,” he said hastily, “I have urgent business back in Scotland. Please tell your husband I’m sorry to have missed him.”

And with that, Benandonner rushed out of the house and began running back across the causeway as fast as his giant legs could carry him. But in his panic and hurry to get away from this land of impossibly strong giants, he began tearing up the causeway behind him so that Finn couldn’t follow him to Scotland.

He ripped up stone after stone, destroying most of the bridge that Finn had worked so hard to build. By the time he reached Scotland, only the ends of the causeway remained – one part on the Irish coast and one part on the Scottish shore.

Back in their house, Oonagh helped Finn out of his disguise. “You can come out now, my dear,” she said with a laugh. “Your rival has gone home to Scotland, and I don’t think he’ll be bothering us again anytime soon.”

Finn hugged his clever wife gratefully. “Oonagh, once again your quick thinking has saved me. I promise I’ll try not to let my pride get us into such trouble again.”

“Just try to remember,” Oonagh said with a smile, “that sometimes the best way to win a fight is to avoid it altogether.”

And so the Giant’s Causeway was created – not through battle and destruction, but through Finn’s ambition and Oonagh’s cleverness. To this day, you can still see the remains of Finn’s great bridge on the coast of Northern Ireland, with its thousands of perfectly fitted hexagonal stone columns stretching out into the sea.

Scientists may tell you that the causeway was formed by ancient volcanic activity, but the people of Ireland know better. They know it was built by Finn McCool, the giant who learned that sometimes the greatest strength comes not from fighting, but from knowing when to let wisdom triumph over pride.

And if you visit the Giant’s Causeway today and listen carefully to the wind and waves, some say you can still hear the echo of Oonagh’s laughter, carried on the sea breeze from that long-ago day when cleverness defeated brute strength.