Now Etain observed all this, and she bent her mind to discover the cause, and one day when they were in the house together, Etain asked of Ailill what was the cause of his sickness. "My sickness," said Ailill, "comes from my love for thee." "'Tis pity," said she, "that thou hast so long kept silence, for thou couldest have been healed long since, had we but known of its cause." "And even now could I be healed," said Ailill, "did I but find favour in thy sight." "Thou shalt find favour," she said. Each day after they had spoken thus with each other, she came to him for the fomenting of his head, and for the giving of the portion of food that was required by him, and for the pouring of water over his hands; and three weeks after that, Ailill was whole. Then he said to Etain: "Yet is the completion of my cure at thy hands lacking to me; when may it be that I shall have it?" "'Tis to-morrow it shall be," she answered him, "but it shall not be in the abode of the lawful monarch of the land that this felony shall be done. Thou shalt come," she said, "on the morrow to yonder hill that riseth beyond the fort: there shall be the tryst that thou desirest."

Now Ailill lay awake all that night, and he fell into a sleep at the hour when he should have kept his tryst, and he woke not from his sleep until the third hour of the day. And Etain went to her tryst, and she saw a man before her; like was his form to the form of Ailill, he lamented the weakness that his sickness had caused him, and he gave to her such answers as it was fitting that Ailill should give. But at the third hour of the day, Ailill himself awoke: and he had for a long time remained in sorrow when Etain came into the house where he was; and as she approached him, "What maketh thee so sorrowful?" said Etain. "'Tis because thou wert sent to tryst with me," said Ailill, "and I came not to thy presence, and sleep fell upon me, so that I have but now awakened from it; and surely my chance of being healed hath now gone from me." "Not so, indeed," answered Etain, "for there is a morrow to follow to-day." And upon that night he took his watch with a great fire before him, and with water beside him to put upon his eyes.

At the hour that was appointed for the tryst, Etain came for her meeting with Ailill; and she saw the same man, like unto Ailill, whom she had seen before; and Etain went to the house, and saw Ailill still lamenting. And Etain came three times, and yet Ailill kept not his tryst, and she found that same man there every time. "'Tis not for thee," she said, "that I came to this tryst: why comest thou to meet me? And as for him whom I would have met, it was for no sin or evil desire that I came to meet him; but it was fitting for the wife of the king of Ireland to rescue the man from the sickness under which he hath so long been oppressed." "It were more fitting for thee to tryst with me myself," said the man, "for when thou wert Etain of the Horses, the daughter of Ailill, it was I who was thy husband. And when thou camest to be wife to me, thou didst leave a great price behind thee; even a marriage price of the chief plains and waters of Ireland, and as much of gold and of silver as might match thee in value." "Why," said she, "what is thy name?" "'Tis easy to say," he answered; "Mider of Bri Leith is my name." "Truly," said she; "and what was the cause that parted us?" "That also is easy," he said; "it was the sorcery of Fuamnach, and the spells of Bressal Etarlam. And then Mider said to Etain: Wilt thou come to my home, fair-haired lady? to dwell In the marvellous land of the musical spell, Where the crowns of all heads are, as primroses, bright, And from head to the heel all men's bodies snow-white.

In that land of no "mine" nor of "thine" is there speech, But there teeth flashing white and dark eyebrows hath each; In all eyes shine our hosts, as reflected they swarm, And each cheek with the pink of the foxglove is warm.

With the heather's rich tint every blushing neck glows, In our eyes are all shapes that the blackbird's egg shows; And the plains of thine Erin, though pleasing to see, When the Great Plain is sighted, as deserts shall be.

Though ye think the ale strong in this Island of Fate, Yet they drink it more strong in the Land of the Great; Of a country where marvel abounds have I told, Where no young man in rashness thrusts backward the old.

There are streams smooth and luscious that flow through that land, And of mead and of wine is the best at each hand; And of crime there is naught the whole country within, There are men without blemish, and love without sin.

Through the world of mankind, seeing all, can we float, And yet none, though we see them, their see-ers can note; For the sin of their sire is a mist on them flung, None may count up our host who from Adam is sprung.

Lady, come to that folk; to that strong folk of mine; And with gold on thy head thy fair tresses shall shine: 'Tis on pork the most dainty that then thou shalt feed, And for drink have thy choice of new milk and of mead.

"I will not come with thee," answered Etain, "I will not give up the king of Ireland for thee, a man who knows not his own clan nor his kindred." "It was indeed myself," said Mider, "who long ago put beneath the mind of Ailill the love that he hath felt for thee, so that his blood ceased to run, and his flesh fell away from him: it was I also who have taken away his desire, so that there might be no hurt to thine honour. But wilt thou come with me to my land," said Mider, "in case Eochaid should ask it of thee?" "I would come in such case," answered to him Etain.

After all this Etain departed to the house. "It hath indeed been good, this our tryst," said Ailill, "for I have been cured of my sickness; moreover, in no way has thine honour been stained." "'Tis glorious that it hath fallen out so," answered Etain. And afterwards Eochaid came back from his royal progress, and he was grateful for that his brother's life had been preserved, and he gave all thanks to Etain for the great deed she had done while he was away from his palace.

Now upon another time it chanced that Eochaid Airemm, the king of Tara, arose upon a. certain fair day in the time of summer; and he ascended the high ground of Tara to behold the plain of Breg; beautiful was the colour of that plain, and there was upon it excellent blossom, glowing with all hues that are known. And, as the aforesaid Eochaid looked about and around him, he saw a young strange warrior upon the high ground at his side. The tunic that the warrior wore was purple in colour, his hair was of a golden yellow, and of such length that it reached to the edge of his shoulders. The eyes of the young warrior were l.u.s.trous and grey; in the one hand he held a five-pointed spear, in the other a shield with a white central boss, and with gems of gold upon it. And Eochaid held his peace, for he knew that none such had been in Tara on the night before, and the gate that led into the Liss had not at that hour been thrown open.

The warrior came, and placed himself under the protection of Eochaid; and "Welcome do I give," said Eochaid, "to the hero who is yet unknown."

"Thy reception is such as I expected when I came," said the warrior.

"We know thee not," answered Eochaid.

"Yet thee in truth I know well!" he replied.

"What is the name by which thou art called?" said Eochaid.

"My name is not known to renown," said the warrior; "I am Mider of Bri Leith."

"And for what purpose art thou come?" said Eochaid.

"I have come that I may play a game at the chess with thee," answered Mider. "Truly," said Eochaid, "I myself am skilful at the chess-play."

"Let us test that skill! said Mider.

"Nay," said Eochaid, the queen is even now in her sleep; and hers is the palace in which the chessboard lies."

"I have here with me," said Mider, "a chessboard which is not inferior to thine." It was even as he said, for that chessboard was silver, and the men to play with were gold; and upon that board were costly stones, casting their light on every side, and the bag that held the men was of woven chains of bra.s.s.

Mider then set out the chessboard, and he called upon Eochaid to play. "I will not play," said Eochaid, "unless we play for a stake."

"What stake shall we have upon the game then?" said Mider.

"It is indifferent to me," said Eochaid.

"Then," said Mider, "if thou dost obtain the forfeit of my stake, I will bestow on thee fifty steeds of a dark grey, their heads of a blood-red colour, but dappled; their ears p.r.i.c.ked high, and their chests broad; their nostrils wide, and their hoofs slender; great is their strength, and they are keen like a whetted edge; eager are they, high-standing, and spirited, yet easily stopped in their course."

[Many games were played between Eochaid and Mider; and, since Mider did not put forth his whole strength, the victory on all occasions rested with Eochaid. But instead of the gifts which Mider had offered, Eochaid demanded that Mider and his folk should perform for him services which should be of benefit to his realm; that he should clear away the rocks and stones from the plains of Meath, should remove the rushes which made the land barren around his favourite fort of Tethba, should cut down the forest of Breg, and finally should build a causeway across the moor or bog of Lamrach that men might pa.s.s freely across it. All these things Mider agreed to do, and Eochaid sent his steward to see how that work was done. And when it came to the time after sunset, the steward looked, and he saw that Mider and his fairy host, together with fairy oxen, were labouring at the causeway over the bog;] and thereupon much of earth and of gravel and of stones was poured into it. Now it had, before that time, always been the custom of the men of Ireland to harness their oxen with a strap over their foreheads, so that the pull might be against the foreheads of the oxen; and this custom lasted up to that very night, when it was seen that the fairy-folk had placed the yoke upon the shoulders of the oxen, so that the pull might be there; and in this way were the yokes of the oxen afterwards placed by Eochaid, and thence cometh the name by which he is known; even Eochaid Airemm, or Eochaid the Ploughman, for he was the first of all the men of Ireland to put the yokes on the necks of the oxen, and thus it became the custom for all the land of Ireland. And this is the song that the host of the fairies sang, as they laboured at the making of the road: Thrust it in hand! force it in hand!

n.o.bles this night, as an ox-troop, stand: Hard is the task that is asked, and who From the bridging of Lamrach shall gain, or rue?

Not in all the world could a road have been found that should be better than the road that they made, had it not been that the fairy folk were observed as they worked upon it; but for that cause a breach hath been made in that causeway. And the steward of Eochaid thereafter came to him; and he described to him that great labouring band that had come before his eyes, and he said that there was not over the chariot-pole of life a power that could withstand its might. And, as they spake thus with each other, they saw Mider standing before them; high was he girt, and ill-favoured was the face that he showed; and Eochaid arose, and he gave welcome to him. "Thy welcome is such as I expected when I came," said Mider. "Cruel and senseless hast thou been in thy treatment of me, and much of hardship and suffering hast thou given me. All things that seemed good in thy sight have I got for thee, but now anger against thee hath filled my mind!" "I return not anger for anger," answered Eochaid; "what thou wishest shall be done." "Let it be as thou wishest," said Mider; "shall we play at the chess?" said he. "What stake shall we set upon the game?" said Eochaid. "Even such stake as the winner of it shall demand," said Mider. And in that very place Eochaid was defeated, and he forfeited his stake.

"My stake is forfeit to thee," said Eochaid.

"Had I wished it, it had been forfeit long ago," said Mider.

"What is it that thou desirest me to grant?" said Eochaid.

"That I may hold Etain in my arms, and obtain a kiss from her!" answered Mider.

Eochaid was silent for a while and then he said: "One month from this day thou shalt come, and the very thing that thou hast asked for shall be given to thee." Now for a year before that Mider first came to Eochaid for the chess-play, had he been at the wooing of Etain, and he obtained her not; and the name which he gave to Etain was Bfind, or Fair-haired Woman, so it was that he said: Wilt thou come to my home, fair-haired lady?

as has before been recited. And it was at that time that Etain said: "If thou obtainest me from him who is the master of my house, I will go; but if thou art not able to obtain me from him, then I will not go." And thereon Mider came to Eochaid, and allowed him at the first to win the victory over him, in order that Eochaid should stand in his debt; and therefore it was that he paid the great stakes to which he had agreed; and therefore also was it that he had demanded of him that he should play that game in ignorance of what was staked. And when Mider and his folk were paying those agreed-on stakes, which were paid upon that night; to wit, the making of the road, and the clearing of the stones from Meath, the rushes from around Tethba, and of the forest that is over Breg, it was thus that he spoke, as it is written in the Book of Drom Snechta: Pile on the soil; thrust on the soil: Red are the oxen around who toil: Heavy the troops that my words obey; Heavy they seem, and yet men are they.

Strongly, as piles, are the tree-trunks placed Red are the wattles above them laced: Tired are your hands, and your glances slant; One woman's winning this toil may grant!

Oxen ye are, but revenge shall see; Men who are white shall your servants be: Rushes from Teffa are cleared away: Grief is the price that the man shall pay: Stones have been cleared from the rough Meath ground; Whose shall the gain or the harm be found?

Now Mider appointed a day at the end of the month when he was to meet Eochaid, and Eochaid called the armies of the heroes of Ireland together, so that they came to Tara; and all the best of the champions of Ireland, ring within ring, were about Tara, and they were in the midst of Tara itself, and they guarded it, both without and within; and the king and the queen were in the midst of the palace, and the outer court thereof was shut and locked, for they knew that the great might of men would come upon them. And upon the appointed night Etain was dispensing the banquet to the kings, for it was her duty to pour out the wine, when in the midst of their talk they saw Mider standing before them in the centre of the palace. He was always fair, yet fairer than he ever was seemed Mider to be upon that night. And he brought to amazement all the hosts on which he gazed, and all thereon were silent, and the king gave a welcome to him.

"Thy reception is such as I expected when I came," said Mider; "let that now be given to me that hath been promised. 'Tis a debt that is due when a promise hath been made; and I for my part have given to thee all that was promised by me."

"I have not yet considered the matter," said Eochaid.

"Thou hast promised Etain's very self to me," said Mider; "that is what hath come from thee." Etain blushed for shame when she heard that word.

"Blush not," said Mider to Etain, "for in nowise hath thy wedding-feast been disgraced. I have been seeking thee for a year with the fairest jewels and treasures that can be found in Ireland, and I have not taken thee until the time came when Eochaid might permit it. 'Tis not through any will of thine that I have won thee." "I myself told thee," said Etain, "that until Eochaid should resign me to thee I would grant thee nothing. Take me then for my part, if Eochaid is willing to resign me to thee."

"But I will not resign thee!" said Eochaid; "nevertheless he shall take thee in his arms upon the floor of this house as thou art."

"It shall be done!" said Mider.

He took his weapons into his left hand and the woman beneath his right shoulder; and he carried her off through the skylight of the house. And the hosts rose up around the king, for they felt that they had been disgraced, and they saw two swans circling round Tara, and the way that they took was the way to the elf-mound of Femun. And Eochaid with an army of the men of Ireland went to the elf-mound of Femun, which men call the mound of the Fair-haired-Women. And he followed the counsel of the men of Ireland, and he dug up each of the elf-mounds that he might take his wife from thence. [And Mider and his host opposed them and the war between them was long: again and again the trenches made by Eochaid were destroyed, for nine years as some say lasted the strife of the men of Ireland to enter into the fairy palace. And when at last the armies of Eochaid came by digging to the borders of the fairy mansion, Mider sent to the side of the palace sixty women all in the shape of Etain, and so like to her that none could tell which was the queen. And Eochaid himself was deceived, and he chose, instead of Etain, her daughter Messbuachalla (or as some say Esa.) But when he found that he had been deceived, he returned again to sack Bri Leith, and this time Etain made herself known to Eochaid, by proofs that he could not mistake, and he bore her away in triumph to Tara, and there she abode with the king.]

MAC DATHO'S BOAR.

INTRODUCTION.THE tale of "Mac Datho's Boar" seems to deal with events that precede the princ.i.p.al events of the Heroic Period; most of the characters named in it appear as the chief actors in other romances; Conor and Ailill are as usual the leaders of Ulster and Connaught, but the king of Leinster is Mesroda Mac Datho, not his brother Mesgegra, who appears in the "Siege of Howth" (see Hull, Cuchullin Saga, p. 87), and the Ulster champion is not Cuchulain, but his elder comrade, Conall Cernach.

The text followed is that of the Book of Leinster as printed by Windisch in Irische Texte, vol. i.; the later Harleian ma.n.u.script's readings given by Windisch have been taken in a few cases where the Leinster text seems untranslatable. There is a slightly different version, given by Kuno Meyer in the Anecdota Oxoniensia , taken from Rawlinson, B. 512, a fifteenth-century ma.n.u.script, but the text is substantially that of the Leinster version, and does not give, as in the case of the tale of Etain, a different view of the story. The verse pa.s.sages differ in the two versions; two verse pa.s.sages on pages 37 and 46 have been inserted from the Rawlinson ma.n.u.script, otherwise the rendering follows the Leinster text.

The style of the tale is more barbaric than that of the other romances, but is relieved by touches of humour; the only supernatural touch occurs in one of the variations of the Rawlinson ma.n.u.script. Some of the chief variations en in this ma.n.u.script are pointed out in the notes; the respectful men on of Curoi mac Dari, who seems to have been a Munster hero, overshadowed in the accepted versions by the superior glory of Ulster, may be noted; also the remark that Ferloga did not get his cepoc, which seems to have been inserted by a later band of a critic who disapproved of the frivolity of the original author, or was jealous for the honour of the Ulster ladies.

MAC DATHO'S BOAR.

FROM THE BOOK OF LEINSTER (TWELFTH-CENTURY MS.).

With some Additions from Rawlinson, B. 512, written about 1560 A GLORIOUS king once hold rule over the men of Leinster; his name was Mesroda Mac Datho. Now Mac Datho had among his possessions a hound which was the guardian of all Leinster; the name of the hound was Ailbe, and all of the land of Leinster was filled with reports of the fame of it, and of that hound hath it been sung: Mesroda, son of Datho, Was he the boar who reared; And his the hound called Ailbe; No lie the tale appeared!

The splendid hound of wisdom, The hound that far is famed, The hound from whom Moynalvy For evermore is named.

By King Ailill and Queen Maev were sent folk to the son of Datho to demand that hound, and at that very hour came heralds from Conor the son of Ness to demand him; and to all of these a welcome was bid by the people of Mac Datho, and they were brought to speak with Mac Datho in his palace.

At the time that we speak of, this palace was a hostelry that was the sixth of the hostelries of Ireland.; there were beside it the hostelry of Da Derga in the land of Cualan in Leinster; also the hostelry of Forgall the Wily, which is beside Lusk; and the hostelry of Da Reo in Breffny; and the hostelry of Da Choca in the west of Meath; and the hostelry of the landholder Blai in the country of the men of Ulster. There were seven doors to that palace, and seven pa.s.sages ran through it; also there stood within it seven cauldrons, and in every one of the cauldrons was seething the flesh of oxen and the salted flesh of swine. Every traveller who came into the house after a journey would thrust a fork into a cauldron, and whatsoever he brought out at the first thrust, that had he to eat: if he got nothing at the first thrust, no second attempt was allowed him.

They brought the heralds before Mac Datho as he sat upon his throne, that he might learn of their requests before they made their meal, and in this manner they made known their message. "We have come," said the men who were sent from Connaught, "that we might ask for thy hound; 'tis by Ailill and Maev we are sent. Thou shalt have in payment for him six thousand milch cows, also a two-horsed chariot with its horses, the best to be had in Connaught, and at the end of a year as much again shall be thine." "We also," said the heralds from Ulster, "have come to ask for thy hound; we have been sent by Conor, and Conor is a friend who is of no less value than these. He also will give to thee treasures and cattle, and the same amount at the end of a year, and he will be a stout friend to thee."

Now after he had received this message Mac Datho sank into a deep silence, he ate nothing, neither did he sleep, but tossed about from one side to another, and then said his wife to him: "For a long time hast thou fasted; food is before thee, yet thou eatest not; what is it that ails thee?

and Mac Datho made her no answer, whereupon she said: The Wife [1]Gone is King Mac Datho's sleep, Restless cares his home invade; Though his thoughts from all he keep, Problems deep his mind hath weighed.

He, my sight avoiding, turns Towards the wall, that hero grim; Well his prudent wife discerns Sleep hath pa.s.sed away from him.

[1. The Irish metre is followed in the first four verses.]

Mac Datho Crimthann saith, Nar's sister's son, "Secrets none to women tell.

Woman's secret soon is won; Never thrall kept jewel well."

The Wife Why against a woman speak Till ye test, and find she fails?

When thy mind to plan is weak, Oft another's wit avails.

Mac Datho At ill season indeed came those heralds Who his hound from Mac Datho would take; In more wars than by thought can be counted Fair-haired champions shall fall for its sake.

If to Conor I dare to deny him, He shall deem it the deed of a churl Nor shall cattle or country be left me By the hosts he against me can hurl.

If refusal to Ailill I venture, With all Ireland my folk shall he sack; From our kingdom Mac Mata shall drive us, And our ashes may tell of his track.

The Wife Here a counsel I find to deliver, And in woe shall our land have no share; Of that hound to them both be thou giver, And who dies for it little we care.

Mac Datho Ah! the grief that I had is all ended, I have joy for this speech from thy tongue Surely Ailbe from heaven descended, There is none who can say whence he sprung.

After these words the son of Datho rose up, and he shook himself, and May this fall out well for us," said he, "and well for our guests who come here to seek for him." His guests abode three days and three nights in his house, and when that time was ended, he bade that the heralds from Connaught be called to confer with him apart, and he spoke thus: "I have been," he said, "in great vexation of spirit, and for long have I hesitated before I made a decision what to do. But now have I decided to give the hound to Ailill and Maev, let them come with splendour to bear it away. They shall have plenty both to eat and to drink, and they shall have the hound to hold, and welcome shall they be." And the messengers from Connaught were well pleased with this answer that they had.

Then he went to where the heralds from Ulster were, and thus he addressed them: "After long hesitation," said he, "I have awarded the hound to Conor, and a proud man should he be. Let the armies of the n.o.bles of Ulster come to bear him away; they shall have presents, and I will make them welcome;" and with this the messengers from Ulster were content.

Now Mac Datho had so planned it that both those armies, that from the East and that from the West, should arrive at his palace upon the selfsame day. Nor did they fail to keep their tryst; upon the same day those two provinces of Ireland came to Mac Datho's palace, and Mac Datho himself went outside and greeted them: "For two armies at the same time we were not prepared; yet I bid welcome to you, ye men. Enter into the court of the house."

Then they went all of them into the palace; one half of the house received the Ulstermen, and the other half received the men of Connaught. For the house was no small one: it had seven doors and fifty couches between each two doors; and it was no meeting of friends that was then seen in that house, but the hosts that filled it were enemies to each other, for during the whole time of the three hundred years that preceded the birth of Christ there was war between Ulster and Connaught.

Then they slaughtered for them Mac Datho's Boar; for seven years had that boar been nurtured upon the milk of fifty cows, but surely venom must have entered into its nourishment, so many of the men of Ireland did it cause to die. They brought in the boar, and forty oxen as side-dishes to it, besides other kind of food; the son of Datho himself was steward to their feast: "Be ye welcome!" said he; "this beast before you hath not its match; and a goodly store of beeves and of swine may be found with the men of Leinster! And, if there be aught lacking to you, more shall be slain for you in the morning."

"It is a mighty Boar," said Conor.

"'Tis a mighty one indeed," said Ailill. "How shall it be divided, O Conor?" said he.

"How?" cried down Bricriu,[l] the son of Carbad, from above; "in the place where the warriors of Ireland are gathered together, there can be but the one test for the division of it, even the part that each man hath taken in warlike deeds and strife: surely each man of you hath struck the other a buffet on the nose ere now!"

"Thus then shall it be," said Ailill.

"'Tis a fair test," said Conor in a.s.sent; "we have here a plenty of lads in this house who have done battle on the borders."

"Thou shalt lose thy lads to-night, Conor," said Senlaech the charioteer, who came from rushy Conalad in the West; "often have they left a fat steer for me to harry, as they sprawled on their backs upon the road that leadeth to the rushes of Dedah."

"Fatter was the steer that thou hadst to leave to us," said Munremur,[2] the son of Gerrcind; "even thine own brother, Cruachniu, son of Ruadlam; and it was from Conalad of Cruachan that he came."

"He was no better," cried Lugaid the son of Curoi of Munster, "than Loth the Great, the son of Fergus Mac Lete; and Echbel the son of Dedad left him lying in Tara Luachra."[3]

[1. p.r.o.nounced Brik-roo.

2. p.r.o.nounced Moon-raymer.

3. p.r.o.nounced Looch-ra.]

"What sort of a man was he whom ye boast of?" cried Celtchar of Ulster. "I myself slew that h.o.r.n.y-skinned son of Dedad, I cut the head from his shoulders."

At the last it fell out that one man raised himself above all the men of Ireland; he was Ket, the son of Mata, he came from the land of Connaught. He hung up his weapons at a greater height than the weapons of any one else who was there, he took a knife in his hand, and he placed himself at the side of the Boar.

"Find ye now," said he, "one man among the men of Ireland who can equal my renown, or else leave the division of the Boar to me."

All of the Ulstermen were thrown into amazement. "Seest thou that, O Laegaire?"[1] said Conor.

"Never shall it be," said Laegaire the Triumphant, "that Ket should have the division of this Boar in the face of us all."

"Softly now, O Laegaire!" said Ket; "let me hold speech with thee. With you men of Ulster it hath for long been a custom that each lad among you who takes the arms of a warrior should play first with us the game of war: thou, O Laegaire, like to the others didst come to the border, and we rode against one another. And thou didst leave thy charioteer, and thy chariot and thy horses behind thee, and thou didst fly pierced through with a spear. Not with such a record as that shalt thou obtain the Boar;" and Laegaire sat himself down.

"It shall never come to pa.s.s," said a great fair-haired warrior, stepping forward from the bench whereon he had sat, "that the division of the Boar shall be left to Ket before our very eyes."

"To whom then appertains it?" asked Ket.

"To one who is a better warrior than thou," he said, "even to Angus, the son of Lama Gabaid (Hand-in-danger) of the men of Ulster."

"Why namest thou thy father 'Hand-in-danger'?" said Ket.

"Why indeed, I know not," he said.

"Ah! but I know it!" said Ket. "Long ago I went upon a journey in the east, a war-cry was raised against me, all men attacked me, and Lama Gabaid was among them. He made a cast of a great spear against me, I hurled the same spear back upon him, and the spear cut [1. p.r.o.nounced Leary.]

his hand from him so that it lay upon the ground. How dares the son of that man to measure his renown with mine?" and Angus went back to his place.

"Come, and claim a renown to match mine," said Ket; "else let me divide this Boar."