sed with the water never
above his waist. But he was nearly dead from cold and weariness, and
from the wounds on breast and foot when he came to the other side and
found the Glashan and Fedelma waiting for him.

They ate salmon again and rested for a day. They bade good-by to the
Glashan, who went back to the river to hunt for salmon. Then they went
along the bank of the river hand in hand while the King of Ireland's Son
told Fedelma of all the things that had happened to him in his search
for her.

They came to where the river became known as the River of the Morning
Star. And then, in the distance, they saw the Hill of Horns. Towards the
Hill of Horns they went, and, at the near side of it, they found a house
thatched with the wing of a bird. It was the house of the Little Sage
of the Mountain. To the house of the Little Sage of the Mountain Fedelma
and the King's Son now went.

TO THE MEMORY OF BEATRICE CASSIDY COLUM

THE HOUSE OF CROM DUV

I

The story is now about Flann. He went through the East gate of the Town
of the Red Castle and his journey was to the house of the Hags of the
Long Teeth where he might learn what Queen and King were his mother and
his father. It is with the youth Flann, once called the Gilly of the
Goatskin, that we will go if it be pleasing to you, Son of my Heart. He
went his way in the evening, when, as the bard said:--

The blackbird shakes his metal notes
Against the edge of day,
And I am left upon my road
With one star on my way.

And he went his way in the night, when, as the same bard said:--

The night has told it to the hills,
And told the partridge in the nest,
And left it on the long white roads,
She will give light instead of rest.

And he went on between the dusk and the dawn, when, as the same bard
said again:--

Behold the sky is covered,
As with a mighty shroud:
A forlorn light is lying
Between the earth and cloud.

And he went on in the dawn, when as the bard said (and this is the
last stanza he made, for the King said there was nothing at all in his
adventure):--

In the silence of the morning
Myself, myself went by,
Where lonely trees sway branches
Against spaces of the sky.

And then, when the sun was looking over the first high hills he came to
a river. He knew it was the river he followed before, for no other river
in the country was so wide or held so much water. As he had gon