hounds approaching them through the wood, and they thought that the sons of Morna were upon them at last, and that their hour of doom was at hand.  Soon they perceived a company of youths coming towards their hut, with one in front who seemed to be their leader.  Taller he was by a head than the rest, broad shouldered, and with masses of bright hair clustering round his forehead, and he carried in his hand a large bag made of some delicate skin and stained in patterns of red and blue.  The old men thought when they saw him of a saying there was about the mighty Lugh, who was brother to the wife of Cumhal, that when he came among his army as they mustered for battle, men felt as though they beheld the rising of the sun.  As they came near, the young men halted and looked upon the elders with pity, for their clothing of skins was ragged and the weapons they strove to hold were rusted and blunt, and except for their proud bearing and the fire in their old eyes they looked more like aged and worthless slaves in the household of a niggardly lord than men who had once been the flower of the fighting men of Erinn.

But the tall youth stepped in front of his band and cried aloud—­

“Which of ye is Crimmal, son of Trenmor?” And one of the elders said, “I am Crimmal.”  Then tears filled the eyes of the youth, and he knelt down before the old man and put his hands in his.

“My lord and chief,” he said, “I am Finn, son of Cumhal, and the day of deliverance is come.”

[Illustration:  “And that night there was feasting and joy in the lonely hut”]

So the youths brought in the spoils of their hunting, and yet other spoils than these; and that night there was feasting and joy in the lonely hut.  And Crimmal said—­

“It was foretold to us that one day the blood of Cumhal should be avenged, and the race of Cumhal should rule the Fianna again.  This was the sign that the coming champion should give of his birth and destiny; he was to bear with him the Treasure Bag of Cumhal and the sacred things that were therein.”

Finn said, “Ye know the Bag and its treasures, tell us if these be they.”  And he laid his skin bag on the knees of Crimmal.

Crimmal opened it, and he took out the jewels of sovranty the magic spear-head made by the smiths of the Fairy Folk, and he said, “These be the treasures of Cumhal; truly the ripeness of the time is come.”

And Finn then told the story of how he had won these things.

“But yesterday morning,” he said, “we met on our way a woman of noble aspect, and she knelt over the body of a slain youth.  When she lifted her head as we drew near, tears of blood ran down her cheeks, and she cried to me, ’Whoever thou art, I bind thee by the bonds of the sacred ordinances of the Gael that thou avenge my wrong.  This was my son Glonda,’ she said, ’my only son, and he was slain to-day wantonly by the Lord of Luachar and his men.’  So we went, my company and