t seemed to him that
warriors had attacked his people. Thereat he leapt on to his armour to
help them. Vast as the thunder-feat of three hundred did they deem his
game in leaping to his weapons. Thereof there was no profit.

Now in the bow of the ship wherein were Donn Desa's sons was the
champion, greatly-accoutred, wrathful, the lion hard and awful, Ingcel
the One-eyed, great-grandson of Conmac. Wide as an oxhide was the single
eye protruding from his forehead, with seven pupils therein, which were
black as a chafer. Each of his knees as big as a stripper's caldron;
each of his two fists was the size of a reaping-basket: his buttocks as
big as a cheese on a withe: each of his shins as long as an outer yoke.

So after that, the thrice fifty boats, and those five thousands--with
ten hundred in every thousand,--landed on the Strand of Fuirbthe.

Then Conaire with his people entered the Hostel, and each took his seat
within, both tabu and non-tabu. And the three Reds took their seats, and
Fer caille with his swine took his seat.

Thereafter Da Derga came to them, with thrice fifty warriors, each of
them having a long head of hair to the hollow of his polls, and a short
cloak to their buttocks. Speckled-green drawers they wore, and in their
hands were thrice fifty great clubs of thorn with bands of iron.

"Welcome, O master Conaire!" quoth he. "Though the bulk of the men of
Erin were to come with thee, they themselves would have a welcome."

When they were there they saw a lone woman coming to the door of the
Hostel, after sunset, and seeking to be let in. As long as a weaver's
beam was each of her two shins, and they were as dark as the back of a
stag-beetle. A greyish, wooly mantle she wore. Her lower hair used to
reach as far as her knee. Her lips were on one side of her head.

She came and put one of her shoulders against the doorpost of the house,
casting the evil eye on the king and the youths who surrounded him in
the Hostel. He himself addressed her from within.

"Well, O woman," says Conaire, "if thou art a wizard, what seest thou
for us?"

"Truly I see for thee," she answers, "that neither fell nor flesh of
thine shall escape from the place into which thou hast come, save what
birds will bear away in their claws."

"It was not an evil omen we foreboded, O woman," saith he: "it is not
thou that always augurs for us. What is thy name, O woman?"

"Cailb," she answers.

"That is not much of a name," says