While Cuchulain was still a little lad, but strong and brave and full of spirit, it came into his mind that he would like to go out into the world to perfect himself in every kind of soldierly art, so that he might not be behind any warrior in feats of strength and skill. He went first to the Glen of Solitude in Munster, but he did not long remain there, but returned to Ulster, to invite his companions to go with him to visit the woman-warrior ScÁth who dwelt in “Shadow-land.” Where the land was, Cuchulain knew not, but he thought it was in Alba, or mayhap in the Eastern world.

Three of the chiefs of Ulster consented to go with him, Conall, whom men in after days called The Victorious, because of his many combats, and Laery the Triumphant, and Conor, Ulster’s king. Conall was close friend to Cuchulain, and they had vowed to each other while yet they were but boys, that whichever of the two of them should first fall in battle or single combat, the other would avenge his death, whether he were at that time near at hand or far across the world in distant climes. And though Cuchulain was the younger, he it was who first fell, and Conall avenged his death in the Red Rout, as we shall hear. He was a great wanderer, and he was far away across the seas when Cuchulain fell, but for all that his promise held him, and his love for his friend, and amply and fully he avenged him on his foes.

Then these three friends set out together in Conall’s boat the “Bird-like,” which needed not to be guided or rowed, but which sped at its own will across the deep-green, strong-waved ocean, like the winging flight of a swift bird. It took its own way to strange lands, where none of those who travelled in the boat had ever been before, and they came at last to a dark gloomy shore where dwelt a fierce woman-warrior, Donnell the Soldierly, and her daughter, Big-fist.

Huge and ugly and gruesome were they both, with big grey eyes, and black faces and rough bright-red hair, and so cruel and vengeful were they that it was dangerous to quarrel with either of them. Yet they knew many feats of arms, so that the three warriors stayed with them a year and a day, learning all they knew. But Cuchulain was fain to go away from them, for the darkness and the gloom of the place and the ugly deeds of Big-fist troubled him, and he liked not at all to remain with her.

The year and the day being past, Cuchulain was walking by the brink of the sea revolving these things in his mind, when he saw close beside him, sitting on the shore, a man of enormous size, every inch of him from top to toe as black as coal. “What are you doing here?” said the big black man to Cuchulain. “I have been here a year and a day learning feats of prowess and heroism from Donnell,” said the little lad. “How so?” said the big black man. “If you want to learn true knightly skill and feats of valour, it is not here that you will learn them.” “Is that true?” said Cuchulain. “It is true, indeed,” said the big black man. “Is there any woman-champion in the world who is better than the woman-champion that is here?” said Cuchulain. “There is indeed,” said the big black man; “far better than she is ScÁth, daughter of Ages, King of Shadow-land, who dwells in the Eastern world.” “We have heard of her before,” said Cuchulain. “I am sure you have,” said the big black man; “but great and distant is the region of Shadow-land, little man.” “Will you tell me all about it, and where it is, and how to find it?” said Cuchulain, eagerly. “Never will I tell you a word about it to the end of time,” said the black man surlily. “O hateful, withered spectre, now may knowledge and help fail you yourself, when most you stand in need of them,” cried the boy, and with that the phantom disappeared.

Cuchulain did not sleep a wink that night thinking of the great far-distant country of which the big black man had told him; and at break of day on the morrow he sprang from his bed and sought his companions, Conor and Conall and Laery. “Will you come with me to seek for Shadow-land?” he asked, when he had told them the tale of the big black man. “We will not come,” said they, “for last night a vision appeared to each of us, and we could not put it away from us. We saw before us our own homes, and the kingly courts of Emain Macha standing right before us in the way, and we heard the voices of our wives weeping for our absence, and the call of our clans and warriors for their chiefs; therefore to-day we bid you farewell, for we return together to our homes. But go you on to Shadow-land and perfect yourself in feats with ScÁth, daughter of Ages, and then return to us.” It seemed to Cuchulain that it was the big black man who had raised this vision before the chiefs, that they might separate themselves from him, so that he might find his death travelling to Shadow-land alone. So he bid the chiefs farewell with a heavy heart, and they set off for Erin in Conall’s boat, the “Bird-like;” and as soon as it was out of sight, speeding over the waves of the blue, surging ocean, Cuchulain set out alone along the unknown road. For he was determined to reach Shadow-land, or to die in the attempt. He went on for many days over great mountains and through deep impenetrable forests, and dark, lonely glens, until he came to a wide-spreading desert and a lightless land. Black and scorched and bare was that desert, and there was no path or road across it, and no human habitation was in sight. Cuchulain stood wondering and fearing to adventure forth alone across that terrible stony trackless waste, for he knew not whither to turn, or how to go. Just then he saw a great beast like a lion coming out of the forest on the border of the desert, and advancing towards him, watching him all the time. Now Cuchulain was but a little lad, and he had no weapons with him, and he was afraid of the mighty beast and tried to escape from him; but whichever way he turned, the beast was there before him, and it seemed to Cuchulain that it was a friendly beast, for it made no attempt to injure him, but kept turning its side to Cuchulain, inviting him to mount. So Cuchulain plucked up his courage and took a leap and was on its back. He did not try to guide it, for of its own accord the lion made off across the plain, and for four days and nights they travelled thus through the dim, lightless land until Cuchulain thought they must have come to the uttermost bounds of men. But they saw a small loch and a boat on it, and boys rowing the boat backward and forward amongst the reeds of the shore, and the boys laughed at the sight of the hurtful beast doing service to a human being. Then Cuchulain jumped off the back of the lion and he bade it farewell and it departed from him.

The boys rowed him across the loch to a house where he got meat and drink, and a young man with a face bright like the sun conducted him on his way until he came to the Plain of Ill-luck, and there he left him. Difficult and toilsome was the journey across the Plain of Ill-luck; on one half of the plain the feet of the wayfarer would stick fast in the miry clay, so that he could not move on, but thought he would sink into the earth at every step; and on the other half of the plain the grass would rise up beneath his feet and lift him up far above the ground upon its blades, so that he seemed to be walking in the air.

No road or comfortable way ran across that plain, and Cuchulain could not have made his way across, but that the young man with the face like the sun had given him a wheel to roll before him, and told him to follow wherever the wheel led. So he rolled the wheel, and bright shining rays darted out of the wheel and lighted up all the land. The heat that came out of the wheel dried up the clay, so that it became hard and firm to walk upon, and it burned up the grass, so that it made a clear path before Cuchulain all the way. And the noisome evil airs of the plain were sucked up by the heat and sunshine of the wheel, so that Cuchulain went on gladly and cheerfully until he came to the Perilous Glen. Then Cuchulain was afraid again, for he saw before him a narrow glen between high rocky mountain fastnesses, and only one road through it, and that as narrow as a hair. And on either side of the road and among the rocks were cruel savage monsters waiting to devour him. But the youth with the shining face had given him an apple, and he rolled the apple before him as he went along, and when the monsters saw the apple, they ceased watching Cuchulain and sprang after the apple. But the apple ran on and on, so that they could not come up with it, and as it ran the narrow path grew wider, so that Cuchulain could follow it with ease. By that means he passed the Perilous Glen, and he took the road that led across the terrible high mountains, until he came to the Bridge of the Leaps. And on the other side of the bridge was the isle where ScÁth or Shadow, daughter of Ages, lived.

Now this is how the Bridge of the Leaps was made. It was low at the two ends, but high in the middle, and it passed over a deep and precipitous gorge, up which came foaming the waters of the wild tempestuous ocean. And fearful strange beasts and fishes were moving about in the waters below, which made a man’s heart quail with fear to look upon, for it was certain that if he should fall, they would seize him in their jaws and devour him.

On the near side of the bridge were many youths playing hurley on the green, and Cuchulain saw amongst them champions from Ulster, Ferdia, son of Daman, and the sons of Naisi, and many others. They greeted him kindly and gladly, and they asked news of Ulster and of their friends and companions in Erin; and Cuchulain was glad to see the faces of his friends, for he was weary and fatigued after his journey and after the terrors of the way across the Plain of Ill-luck and the Perilous Glen. Then Cuchulain asked Ferdia, for he was older than he, “How shall I get across the Bridge of the Leaps, to reach the fort of ScÁth?” “You cannot cross it,” said he; “for this is the manner of that bridge; when anyone steps on one end of the bridge the other end leaps up, and flings the passenger off again upon his back. Not one of us has crossed the bridge as yet, for there are two feats that ScÁth teaches last of all, the leap of the Bridge, and the thrust of the spear that is called the Body Spear, which moves along the water. When we have achieved valour, she will teach us the leap of the Bridge, but the thrust of the Body Spear she will not teach to any man of us at all, for she reserves that feat for the champion who excels in all other feats, and who is, out of all her pupils, the one whom she likes best.”

“Tell me, O Ferdia, how Shadow herself crosses the bridge when she comes to teach you feats,” said Cuchulain. “Only by two leaps can that bridge be crossed,” they all reply; “that is, one leap into the very centre of the bridge, and one upon the firm ground beyond; but if the leap is missed, it is likely that the passer-by will fall into the gulf below, and woe to him if he should fall.” Then Cuchulain looked at the bridge and he looked at the foaming gorge below, and at the open-mouthed monsters in the tossing waves, and he waited awhile until his strength was returned. But as evening fell he rose, and gathering all his forces together, he leaped upon the bridge. Three times he tried to cross it, and three times it flung him again upon the bank, so that he fell upon his back; and the young men jeered at him, because he tried to cross the bridge without ScÁth’s help. Then Cuchulain grew mad with anger, and he leaped at one bound upon the very centre and ridge of the bridge. Here he rested a moment, and then he leaped again, and he gained the firm ground on the further side, and he strode straight up to the fort of Shadow, and struck three thunderous knocks upon the door.

“Truly,” said ScÁth, “this must be someone who has achieved valour somewhere else,” and she sent Uthach the Fearful, her daughter, to bring him in, and welcome him to the fort.

For a year and a day he remained with ScÁth, and learned all that she could teach him, and he became the most renowned warrior of his time, or of any other time; and because Shadow loved his skill and his strength and comeliness, she taught him the feat of the Body Spear, which she had never taught to any before. And she gave the spear into his own keeping. When Ferdia saw the spear, he said, “O ScÁth, teach me also this feat, for the day will come when I shall have need of it.” But she would not, for she wished to make Cuchulain invincible, and that he should have one feat that was not known to any but himself. And she gave him the Helmet of Invisibility, which Manannan mac Lir, the ocean god, brought out of Fairy-land; and the mantle of Invisibility made of the precious fleeces from the land of the Immortals, even from the Kingdom of Clear Shining; and she gave him his glorious shield, with knobs of gold, and chased all round with carvings of animals, and the combats of fighting men, and the sea-wars of the gods. And he became companion and arms-bearer to Ferdia, because he was the younger and because they loved each other, and all the time he was with ScÁth they went together into every danger, and every peril, and they took journeys together, and saw strange sights. And because the twain loved each other, they swore that never in life would either hurt or wound the other, or do combat or quarrel with the other, but that for ever and for ever they twain would aid and support each other in war and in combat, and in all the pleasant loving ways of peace. But ScÁth knew that other days were coming, for she was a seer, and when Cuchulain bade her farewell, to return to Ireland, she spoke to him these words out of her prophet’s shining ken: “Blessing and health go with thee! Victorious Hero, Champion of the Kine of Bray! Chariot Chief of the two-horsed chariot! Beloved Hero of the gods! Perils await thee; alone before the foe I see thee stand, fighting against a multitude, fighting thy own companion and friend. Red from many conflicts are thy warrior weapons; by thee men and champions will fall; the warriors of Connaught and of Meave, the hosts of Ailill and of Fergus scatter before thy sword. The Hound of Ulster will be renowned. At his death will the glory of Ulster fail, the glory of Erin will depart from her.... Farewell, farewell, Cuchulain.”

Then Cuchulain parted from her, and turned to go back to Erin, and a magic mist overtook him so that he knew not how he went, or by what road he came to the borders of the white-flecked, green-waved ocean, but he found Manannan’s horses of the white sea-foam awaiting him near the shore upon the surface of the mighty main, and he caught their tossing white-tipped manes and they bore him out across the waves, and so he came to Ireland again. It was on the night of his return that he found and caught his two chariot horses, the Grey of Macha, and the Black Steed of the Glen, and this is how he caught them. He was passing along the borders of the Grey Lake that is near the Mountain of Slieve Fuad, pondering on the fate that was before him, and the work that he would do. Slowly he walked along the reedy, marshy ground that lay along the lake, till he saw a mist rise slowly from the mere and cover all the plain. Then, as he stood to watch, he saw the form of a mighty steed, grey and weird and phantom-like, rise slowly from the centre of the lake, and draw near to the shore, until it stood with its back to him among the rushes of the water’s edge. Softly Cuchulain crept down behind the steed; but it seemed not to hear him come, for it was looking out towards the centre of the lake. Then with a sudden leap, Cuchulain was on its neck, his two arms clasped upon its mane. When it felt the rider on its back, the noble animal shuddered from head to foot, and started back and tried to throw Cuchulain, but with all his might he clung and would not be thrown. Then began a struggle of champions between those two heroes, the King of the Heroes of Erin and the King of Erin’s Steeds. All night they wrestled, and the prancing of the steed was heard at Emain Macha, so that the warriors said it thundered, and that a great storm of wind had arisen without. But when it could by no means throw Cuchulain from its back, the horse began to career and course round the island, and that night they fled with the swiftness of the wind three times round all the provinces of Ireland. With a bound the wild steed leaped the mountains, and the sound of its coursing over the plains was as the break of the tempestuous surf upon the shore. Once only did they halt in their career, and that was in the wild and lonely glen in Donegal that is called the Black Glen, where the ocean waves roll inward to the land. From out the waters arose another steed, as black as night, and it whinneyed to the Grey of Macha, so that the Grey of Macha stopped, and the Black Steed of the Glen came up beside it, and trotted by its side. Then the fury of the Grey of Macha ceased, and Cuchulain could feel beneath his hand that the two horses were obedient to his will. And he brought them home to Emain and harnessed them to his chariot, and all the men of Ulster marvelled at the splendour of those steeds, which were like night and day, the dark steed and the light, and one of them they called the Grey of Macha, because Macha was the goddess of war and combat, and the other they called the Black Steed of the Glen.