“If it be my brother that charioteers sure am I that it is Cuculain who is in the fighter’s seat, for many a time have I heard Laeg utter foul scorn of the Red Branch, none excepted, when compared with Sualtam’s son.  For no other than him would he deign to charioteer.  Truly though he is my own brother there is not such a boaster in the North.”

Then the watchman cried out again—­

“Yea, the charioteer is the son of the King of Gabra, and it is Cuculain, the son of Sualtam, who sits in the fighter’s seat.  He has Concobar’s own shield on his breast, and his two spears in his hand.  Over Bray Ros, over Brainia, they are coming along the highway, by the foot of the Town of the Tree; it is gifted with victories.”

“Have done, O talkative man,” cried Conall, “whose words are like the words of a seer, or the full-voiced intonement of a chief bard.”

When the chariot came to the ford, Conall was amazed at the horses and the chariot, but he dissembled his amazement before his people, and when he saw Cuculain armed, he laughed and said,—­

“Hath the boy indeed taken arms?”

And Cuculain said, “It is as thou seest, O son of Amargin; and moreover, I have sworn not to let them back into the Chamber-of-Many-Colours [Footnote:  Tec Brac or Speckled House, the armoury of the Ultonians.] until I shall have first reddened them in the blood of the enemies of Ulla.”

Then Conall ceased laughing and said, “Not so, Setanta, for verily thou shalt not be permitted;” and the great Champion sprang forward to lay his fearless, never-foiled, and all conquering hands on the bridles of the horses, but at a nod from Cuculain, Laeg let the steeds go, and Conall sprang aside out of the way, so terrible was the appearance of the horses as they reared against him.  “Harness my horses and yoke my chariot,” cried Conall, “for if this mad boy goes into the enemies’ country and meets with harm there, verily I shall never be forgiven by the Ultonians.”

His horses were harnessed and his chariot yoked,—­illustrious too were those horses, named and famed in many songs—­and Conall and Ide in their chariot dashed through the ford enveloped with rainbow-painted clouds of foam and spray, and like hawks on the wing they skimmed the plain, pursuing the boys.  Laeg heard the roar and trampling, and looking back over his shoulder, said,—­

“They are after us, dear master, namely the great son of Amargin and my haughty brother Ide, who hath ever borne himself to me as though I were a wayward child.  They would spoil upon us this our brave foray.  But they will overtake the wind sooner than they will overtake the Liath Macha and Black Shanglan, whose going truly is like the going of eagles.  O storm-footed steeds, great is my love for you, and inexpressible my pride in your might and your beauty, your speed and your terror, and sweet docility and affection.”

“Nevertheless, O Laeg,” said Cuculain, “slacken now their going, for that Champion will be an impediment to us in our challengings and our fightings; for when we stop for that purpose he will overtake us, and, be our feats what they may, his and not ours will be the glory.  Slacken the going of the horses, for we must rid ourselves of the annoyance and the pursuit of these gadflies.”