he little old woman, or the wild horse
of the mountains. His parents were also surprised, and they all
thought that they must have been dreaming until they saw the empty
peggins around the fire and some pieces of broken bread; and they did
not know what to think of it all.

From that day forward the desire grew stronger in the heart of Fergus
for a change of life; and one day he told his parents that he was
resolved to seek his fortune. He said he wished to be a soldier, and
that he would set out for the king's palace, and try to join the ranks
of the Feni.

About a week afterwards he took leave of his parents, and having
received their blessing he struck out for the road that led to the
palace of the High King of Erin. He arrived there just at the time
when the great captain of the Fenian host was recruiting his
battalions, which had been thinned in recent battle.

The manly figure of Fergus, his gallant bearing, and handsome face,
all told in his favour. But before he could be received into the
Fenian ranks he had to prove that he could play the harp like a bard,
that he could contend with staff and shield against nine Fenian
warriors, that he could run with plaited hair through the tangled
forest without loosening a single hair, and that in his course he
could jump over trees as high as his head, and stoop under trees as
low as his knee, and that he could run so lightly that the rotten
twigs should not break under his feet. Fergus proved equal to all the
tests, thanks to the wandering minstrel who taught him the use of the
harp, to his own brave heart, and to his forest training. He was
enrolled in the second battalion of the Feni, and before long he was
its bravest and ablest champion.

At that very time it happened that the niece of the High King of Erin
was staying with the king and queen in their palace at Tara. The
princess was the loveliest lady in all the land. She was as proud as
she was beautiful. The princes and chieftains of Erin in vain sought
her hand in marriage. From Alba and Spain, and the far-off isles of
Greece, kings came to woo her. From the northern lands came vikings in
stately galleys with brazen prows, whose oarsmen tore the white foam
from the emerald seas as they swept towards the Irish coasts. But the
lady had vowed she would wed with no one except a battle champion who
could excel in music the chief bard of the High King of Erin; who
could outstrip on his steed in the great race of Ta