of the giant Fovor of the
Mighty Blows. In it he keeps prisoner a princess of the Fairy Folk
whom he would fain make his bride, but he may not do so, nor may she
escape, until Fovor has met in battle a champion who will undertake
her cause. Approach, then, to the gate, if thou art fain to undertake
this adventure, and blow the horn which hangs thereby, and then look
to thy weapons, for soon indeed will the battle be broken upon thee."

Then Oisin rode to the gate and thrice he blew on the great horn which
hung by it, and the clangour of it groaned drearily back from the
cliffs that overhung the glen. Not thus indeed sounded the _Dord_ of
Finn as its call blew lust of fighting and scorn of death into the
hearts of the Fianna amid the stress of battle. At the third blast the
rusty gates opened, grinding on their hinges, and Oisin rode into a
wide courtyard where servitors of evil aspect took his horse and
Niam's, and led them into the hall of Fovor. Dark it was and low, with
mouldering arras on its walls, and foul and withered rushes on the
floor, where dogs gnawed the bones thrown to them at the last meal,
and spilt ale and hacked fragments of flesh littered the bare oaken
table. And here rose languidly to greet them a maiden bound with seven
chains, to whom Niam spoke lovingly, saying that her champion was come
and that her long captivity should end. And the maiden looked upon
Oisin, whose proud bearing and jewelled armour made the mean place
seem meaner still, and a light of hope and of joy seemed to glimmer
upon her brow. So she gave them refreshment as she could, and
afterwards they betook them once more to the courtyard, where the
place of battle was set.

Here, at the further side, stood a huge man clad in rusty armour, who
when he saw Oisin rushed upon him, silent and furious, and swinging a
great battleaxe in his hand. But doubt and langour weighed upon
Oisin's heart, and it seemed to him as if he were in an evil dream,
which he knew was but a dream, and would be less than nothing when the
hour of awakening should come. Yet he raised his shield and gripped
the fairy sword, striving to shout the Fian battle-cry as he closed
with Fovor. But soon a heavy blow smote him to the ground, and his
armour clanged harshly on the stones. Then a cloud seemed to pass from
his spirit, and he leaped to his feet quicker than an arrow flies from
the string, and thrusting fiercely at the giant his sword-point gashed
the under sid