On a day when the Fenians were living at Fintra, Fin MacCool called them together, held a council, complained of remissness, and warned the men to be cautious, to keep a better watch on the harbors, and to take good care of their arms. They promised to do better in future, and asked Fin to forgive them for that time. Fin forgave them, and sent men to keep watch on Cruach Varhin.

When on the mountain awhile, the chief sentry saw, in the distance, a man leading a horse toward Fintra. He thought to run down with word to Fin, but did not; he waited to see what kind of person was coming. The man leading the horse was far from being tidy: his shoes were untied, and the strings hanging down; on his shoulders was a mantle, flapping around in the wind. The horse had a broad, surly face; his neck was thick at the throat, and thin toward the body: the beast was scrawny, long-legged, lean, thin-maned, and ugly to look at. The only bridle on the horse was a long, heavy chain; the whip in the hand of the man was a strong iron staff. Each blow that the man gave his steed was heard through the glens and the mountains, and knocked echoes out of every cliff in that region. Each pull that the man gave the bridle was that strong, that you would think he’d tear the head off the ugly beast’s body. Every clump of earth that the horse rooted up with his feet, in striving to hold back, was three times the size of a sod of turf ready for burning.

“It is time for me now,” said the watchman, at last, “to hurry from this, and tell Fin,” and with that he rushed down from Cruach Varhin.

Fin saw him coming, and was ready for his story; and not too soon was it told; for just then the horseman came up to the King of the Fenians at Fintra.

“Who are you?” inquired Fin.

“I do not know who my father was,” said the stranger. “I am of one place as well as another. Men call me the Hard Gilla; and it is a good name: for no matter how well people treat me I forget all they do. I have heard, though, that you give most wages, and best treatment of any man.”

“I will give you good wages,” said Fin, “and fair treatment; but how much do you want of me?”

“I want whatever I ask.”

“I will give you that and more, if I promise,” said Fin.

“I am your man,” said the Gilla. “Now that we have agreed, I may let my horse out to graze, I suppose?”

“You may,” answered Fin.

The Gilla untied the chain bridle from his horse, and struck him with the chain. The beast went to the other horses; but if he did, he fell to eating the mane, legs, ears, and tail of each one of them, and ate all till he came to a steed grazing apart, and this steed belonged to Conan Maol. Conan ran, caught the ugly old horse by the skull, and pulled him up to his owner.

“Mind your wicked old cripple!” cried Conan, in anger.

“If any man does not like how my horse feeds, he may herd the good steed himself.”

When Conan heard this insolence, he went to the adviser for counsel. The adviser told him to go upon the back of the horse, and to ride till he broke him. Conan mounted the horse; but not a stir could he get from the stubborn beast.

“He is used to heavy loads,” said the adviser. “Let others mount with you.”

The Fenians were mounting the horse till twenty-eight men of them went up with Conan. The twenty-nine began then to wallop the horse, but could not raise a stir out of him. The old horse only cocked one ear. When the Gilla saw the twenty-nine on his horse, he called out, “It seems that we do not agree; and the sooner I go from this place the better.”

He tightened his cloak, flapping loose on his body, tied his shoes, and said, “In place of praising, I will dispraise you.” Then he went in front of the horse. The horse raised his tail and his head, and between his tail and his neck he held the men firmly. Some tried to jump off, but were as secure on the horse as his own skin. Conan was the first to speak. When he saw that he could not spring from the horse, he turned to Fin, and cried out, “I bind you, O Fin, not to eat two meals off the one table, or sleep two nights on the one bed, till you have me freed from this serpent.”

When Fin and the Fenians heard this, they looked at one another. The adviser spoke then, and said, “There is no time for delay. We have here a man to follow, and he is Leeagawn of LÚachar Garv.”

Fin called Leeagawn, and he went after the steed quickly, caught him at the edge of the strand, and seized him by the tail; but if he did, he grew fast to the tail of the horse, and was pulled forward to the strand. He tried to loose himself from the tail, but no use for him to try. The horse drew him into the water. The sea opened before the strange steed, and closed behind. The Gilla ran in front. Twenty-nine men were on the back of the horse, and one fixed to his tail.

Fin and the Fenians were greatly distressed at the sight, but could give no assistance. They held council; and the druid said, “There is an old ship in Ben Eadan; put that ship in repair, and sail after the steed.”

“Let us go,” said the Fenians, “for the ship.”

As they were making ready to start, two young champions hurried up to Fin, and saluted him.

“Who are ye?” asked Fin, returning the salute; “and whither are ye going?”

“We are the two sons of a king,” replied they; “each has a gift, and we have come to you to know which is the better gift to live by. The two gifts are two powers left us by our father.”

“What is your power?” asked Fin of the elder brother.

“Do you see this branch?” said he. “If I strike the water of the harbor with this branch, the harbor will be filled with ships till they are crushing one another. When you choose the one you like, I will make the others disappear as quickly as you can bow your head.”

“What can you do?” asked Fin of the younger brother.

“If a wild duck were to dart forth from her nest, I could keep in sight of the bird, and she going straight or crooked, high or low, I could catch her before she could fly back to the nest from which she came.”

When they had done speaking, Fin said, “I have never been in more need of your help than I am at this moment.” He told them then of the Gilla, and of all that had happened. The elder brother struck the harbor with his branch; the harbor was filled with ships in one minute. Fin chose the ship he liked best, and said, “I’ll take that one.” In a twinkle the other ships vanished.

When the men were all ready to go on the ship, Fin called Oisin, and said to him, “I leave the ruling of Erin with you, till I come back to this harbor.” He bade farewell then to Oisin and the Fenians. The younger of the two champions stood at the prow, the elder at the stern. The younger followed the horse in crooked and straight paths through the sea, told his brother how to steer on the voyage. They kept on till, at length, and at last, they came to a haven with a steep, rugged shore, and no ship could enter.

“This is where the steed went in,” said the younger brother.

When the Fenians saw the haven, they looked at one another. It was a very steep place; and all said, “We cannot land here.”

“There will be an evil report for the Fenians of Erin, or for men trained by Fin, if no one can spring to land,” said the druid.

“Well,” said Dyeermud, “there was never a man at Fintra who could make such a spring, if I cannot make it.”

He buckled his belt firmly, and went to the stern of the ship to find space for a run; then he rushed to the prow, and rose with one bound to the top of the cliff. When he looked back, and saw his comrades below, he was frightened.

Dyeermud left the ship and the Fenians, and walked forward alone. Toward evening, he saw a herd of deer; he pursued them, and caught a doe, which he killed; he made a fire, roasted the carcass, ate of it, and drank pure spring water. He made a hut then of limbs, and slept quietly till morning. After breakfast, a gruagach came the way, and called out to him, “Is not Erin wide enough for you to live in, instead of coming hither to steal my herds from me?”

“Though I might have been willing to go when you came,” replied Dyeermud, “I will not go now since you speak so unmannerly.”

“You must fight with me then,” said the gruagach.

“I will indeed,” said Dyeermud.

They took their spears and swords, and fought all that day until evening, when the gruagach saw that Dyeermud was getting the upper hand. He leaped into the spring from which Dyeermud had drunk the cool water. Dyeermud ran quickly, and thrust his sword into the water, but no sign of the gruagach.

“I will watch for you to-morrow,” said Dyeermud to himself; so he waited near the spring until morning.

The gruagach stood before him next day more threatening to look at than ever, and said, “It seems you hadn’t fighting enough from me yesterday.”

“I told you that I would not go,” answered Dyeermud, “till I had knocked satisfaction out of you for your ugly speech.”

They went at each other then, and fought fiercely till very near evening. Dyeermud watched the spring closely, and when the gruagach leaped in, he was with him. In the side of the spring was a passage; the two walked through that passage, and came out in a kingdom where there was a grand castle, and seven men at each side of the door. When Dyeermud went toward the castle, the fourteen rushed against him. He slew these, and all others who faced him till nightfall. He would not enter the castle, but stretched himself on the ground, and fell fast asleep. Soon a champion came, tapped him lightly with a sword, and said, “Rise now, and speak to me.”

Dyeermud sprang up, and grasped his sword.

“I am not an enemy, but a friend,” said the champion. “It is not proper for you to be sleeping in the midst of your enemies. Come to my castle; I will entertain you, and give you good keeping.”

Dyeermud went with the stranger; and they became faithful friends. “The king of this country, which is called Tir Fohin [Land Under the Wave], is my brother,” said the champion. “The kingdom is rightfully mine, and ’tis I that should be King of Tir Fohin; but my brother corrupted my warriors with promises, so that all except thirty men of them left me.”

This champion was called the Knight of Valor. Dyeermud told this knight his whole story,—told of the Hard Gilla, and his long-legged, scrawny, thin-maned, ugly old horse.

“I am the man,” said the knight, “that will find out the Hard Gilla for you. That Gilla is the best swordsman and champion in this land, and the greatest enchanter. Your men, brought away by him, are as safe and as sound as when they left Erin. He is a good friend of mine.”

“Now,” said Dyeermud, “for your kindness (you might have killed me when I was asleep), and for your entertainment, I give my word to fight against your brother, and win back your kingdom.”

Dyeermud sent a challenge to the King of Tir Fohin. The knight and Dyeermud, with the knight’s thirty men, fought against the king’s forces, fought all that day until evening; then the king withdrew to the castle to keep his hold firm on the chief place, but Dyeermud rushed in, brought him out to the green, threw him on the flat of his back, and shouted, “Are you not satisfied yet?”

“I am if the men are,” said the king.

“Will you obey the Knight of Valor?” asked Dyeermud of the men.

“We will,” answered they.

The men gave their word to obey with all faithfulness. Dyeermud gave the false king thirty men then; and the Knight of Valor became king in his own land. On the morrow, Dyeermud and the king went with forces to the Gilla’s castle; and when they entered the gates, the Gilla came out, received them with welcome and hand-shaking. There was great rejoicing, and good cheer at the Gilla’s castle.

When Dyeermud did not return to the vessel, Fin and the two young champions thought to find an easier landing in some place; they put their ship around, and sailed forward, sailed and sailed; and where should they come at last but to the castle of the King of SorÁch (Light), who received them with welcome, and entertained them with the best that he had in his castle.

But they were hardly seated at table, when the chief messenger of the King of SorÁch came hurrying in and said, that there was a fleet sailing toward them, which was as numerous as the sands on the seashore, that it was coming for tribute, which had not been collected for many a year.

The king had a grieved and sorrowful face. “That is the High King of the World coming against me,” said he.

“Never fear,” said Fin MacCool. “Cheer up, and have courage. I and my men will stand up for you. We will fight to the death to defend you.”

On the following day, the High King sent forces to land, to attack the King of SorÁch in his castle. These forces were under command of Borb Sinnsior na Gah, son of the High King. The greatest delight of the High King was his daughter, a beautiful maiden called Teasa Taov Geal; and the thought came to her that day to see the battle. “I will go,” said she, “with my brother, and see him take the king’s castle.”

On Fin’s side, the two young champions his guides were eager to be in the struggle; but Fin would not hear of that. “You must stay with the ship,” said he, “and take us to Erin, when the time comes.”

As soon as Fin saw the attack was led by the son of the High King, he said, “I will take command in the battle, and lead the men in action to-day. We will show the invaders what the Fenians do in battle.”

Oscar went with Fin, and so did Goll MacMorna. The battle raged grandly; the men of the High King fell in crowds until evening, what was left of them then went to the ships, and sailed back in haste to their master.

When the news reached the High King, he called his druid for advice.

“This is not the time to make war on the King of SorÁch,” said the druid; “for Fin MacCool and his men are living in friendship at his castle; they will help him to the end of this struggle. Go home for the present, and come again when Fin has gone back to Erin.”

The king was inclined to do this; but his daughter had seen Fin MacCool in the battle, and fallen in love with him. She sent him a message, saying, “I will go with you. I will leave my father for your sake. I love you.”

The answer that Fin sent, was to come to him; he would take her with gladness to Erin.

The king was grieved at the loss of his daughter. “I might go home now,” said he, “and come back at another time; but how can I go, and leave my daughter behind me?”

There was a champion called Lavran MacSuain, who could steal anything while men were asleep, and make them sleep all the more, but could not do harm to them. Lavran volunteered to bring back the daughter.

“If I find them asleep,” said he, “I will bring her back; if you give me a reward.”

“I will pay you well,” said the king. “I will not spare rewards on you, if you bring me my daughter.”

When Lavran came to where Fin was, he found him and the Fenians asleep, and put them in a still deeper sleep. He brought Teasa Taov Geal to her father’s ship then. The fleet sailed away in the night; and at daybreak there was not a trace of it.

Next morning when Fin woke, and found that the king’s daughter was gone, he sprang up, and was raging with anger. He sent men to look for the fleet; but not a boat nor a ship was in sight.

Oscar and Goll, seeing Fin in such passion, said, “We will go, if a druid goes with us. He will find out the castle by his knowledge; and we will bring the woman back, or die while striving to bring her.”

Next morning, Goll and Oscar took a ready ship from the fleet of the King of SorÁch, set sail, and never stopped till they touched land near the castle of the High King.

“The best way for us,” said the druid, on landing, “is to say that we are bards, till we learn where the strength of the king is.”

“We will not do that,” said Oscar. “We will go straight forward, and bring the woman back with the strength of our arms.”

They went straight from the strand toward the castle. At the wayside was a rath where the daughter of the king was at that time, and no great number of men there to guard her. Goll and Oscar attacked the guards, cut them down, and took Taov Geal.

“The king is coming home from a hunt,” said the druid; “it is better to hurry back to our ship.”

“We will sharpen our weapons,” said Oscar, “and strike the king’s men, if they come toward us; but do you take the woman, and go in all haste to the ship. We will stay behind to protect you.”

The druid took Taov Geal, who was willing and glad, when she heard who had come for her. They reached the ship safely. Goll and Oscar came soon after, sprang into the ship, set sail, and never stopped till they brought Teasa Taov Geal to Fin at the castle of the King of SorÁch. There was a feast then far greater than the one which the High King had interrupted the first day.

“I will take you to Erin,” said Fin to Taov Geal.

“I will go with you,” said she.

“I know the Hard Gilla well,” said the King of SorÁch to Fin MacCool. “I will go with you to him; he is a great champion, and a mighty enchanter.”

The king and his men, with Fin and the Fenians, went to the lands of the Gilla; and when he saw them all, he brought them into his castle, and treated them well. Dyeermud and the King of Tir Fohin were there also; they had been enjoying themselves, and feasting with the Gilla, while Fin and the others were fighting with the High King, and stealing his daughter.

Conan and the twenty-nine Fenians were all in good health; and Fin had the daughter of the High King in the castle, intending to take her to Erin.

Said Fin to the Gilla one day, “It was you and Conan who had the first quarrel, he and you are the men who began these adventures. I will leave him and you to end the whole story. Conan is not easy to talk with, and you are a hard man to conquer.”

Conan was called up.

“What have you to say of our host,” inquired Fin; “and what would you do for him?”

“I was treated here as well as you have ever treated me in Fintra, or as any man treated me in another place,” said Conan. “My sentence is this, Let him come to Erin with us in our ship, feast with us in Fintra, and ride home on his own horse.”

“I will do that,” said the Gilla.

Conan and the Gilla, with all the Fenians, went to the ship. Fin brought the daughter of the High King on board, and all sailed away to Erin.

The Gilla was entertained to his heart’s content, till one day he said, “I must leave you now, and go to my own place.”

Conan and a number of Fenians went to the seashore to see him ride away. “Where is your horse?” asked Conan.

“Here,” said the Gilla.

Conan turned to see the ugly long-legged beast, but saw nothing. He turned then to look at the Gilla, but saw only mist stretching out toward the water.