not be dead before the end of the ninth day.  Great gifts were promised to them for engaging to do battle and to contend [LL.fo.80b.] [2]with Cuchulain.[2] And they took the matter in hand, and it should be in the presence of Fergus that the covenant would be made.  But Fergus refused to have part therein, for what they [3]all[3] contended was that they would hold it as a single combat, [4]a combat, to wit, of[4] Calatin Dana and his seven and twenty sons and his grandson Glass macDelga; for their contention was that his son was a limb of his limbs and a part of his parts, and that to Calatin Dana belonged all that proceeded from his body.

    [1-1] The title is taken from the colophon at the end of the chapter.

    [a] ‘Nephew.’  Stowe.

    [2-2] Stowe.

    [3-3] Stowe.

    [4-4] Stowe.

Fergus betook himself to his tent and to his people and he breathed his sigh of weariness aloud.  “Grievous it [W.2935.] seems to us, the deed to be done here on the morrow,” quoth Fergus.  “What deed may that be?” asked his people.  “The slaying of Cuchulain,” answered Fergus.  “Alas,” said they, “who should kill him?” “Calatin Dana,” he replied, “with his seven and twenty sons and his grandson Glass macDelga.  For this is their nature:  Poison is on every man of them and poison on every weapon of their arms; and there is no one on whom one of them draws blood, that, if he succumb not on the spot, will not be dead before the end of the ninth day.  And there is no one [1]of you[1] that would go and learn for me and be witness of the battle and fight and bring me news how Cuchulain died on whom I would not bestow my blessing and armour.”  “I will go thither,” spake Fiachu son of Ferfebe.

    [1-1] Stowe.

They abode so that night.  Early on the morrow Calatin Dana arose with his seven and twenty sons and his grandson Glass macDelga, and they went forward to where Cuchulain was.  And there went also Fiachu son of Ferfebe.  And when Calatin arrived at the place where Cuchulain was, they forthwith hurled their nine and twenty spears, and not one of them went past him by a misthrow.  Cuchulain played the edge-feat with his shield, so that all the spears sank up to their middles into the shield.  But for all that theirs was no erring cast, not one of the spears was blooded or reddened upon him.  Thereupon Cuchulain drew [2]his[2] sword from the sheath of the Badb, to cut away the weapons and lighten the shield that was on him.  While thus engaged, they rushed in upon him and delivered their nine and twenty right fists at the same time on his head.  They smote him and curbed him withal, till his face and his countenance and visage met the sand and gravel of the ford.  Cuchulain raised his warrior’s shout aloud and his cry of unequal combat, so that there was not an Ulsterman [W.2962.] alive [1]in the camp[1] of those that were not asleep but heard it.  Then [2]when they all had reached for their swords,[2] came Fiachu