bar set out
for Emain Macha with their spoils. It was then Cuchulain spoke to his
charioteer: "Thou didst promise us a good run," said Cuchulain, "and we
need it now because of the storm and pursuit that is after us." Forthwith
they hasten to Sliab Fuait. Such was the speed of the course they held over
Breg, after the urging of the charioteer, that the horses of the chariot
overtook the wind and the birds in [W.1317.] their flight and Cuchulain
caught the throw he had cast from his sling or ever it reached the ground.

[5-5] LU. and YBL. 667-668.

[6-6] LU. and YBL. 669-679.

"When they came to Sliab Fuait[6] they espied a herd of wild deer before
them. "What are those many cattle, O Ibar, those nimble ones yonder?" asked
the lad; "are they tame or are they other deer?" "They are real wild deer,
indeed," Ibar answered; "herds of wild deer that haunt the wastes of Sliab
Fuait." [1]"Which," asked Cuchulain, "would the men of Ulster deem best,
to bring them dead or alive?" "More wonderful, alive," answered the
charioteer; "not every one can do it so; but dead, there is none of them
cannot do it. Thou canst not do this, carry off any of them alive." "Truly
I can," said Cuchulain.[1] "Ply the goad for us on the horses [2]into the
bog,[2] to see can we take some of them." The charioteer drove a goad into
the horses. It was beyond the power of the king's overfat steeds to keep up
with the deer. [3]Soon the horses stuck in the marsh.[3] The lad got down
from the chariot and [4]as the fruit of his run and his race, in the morass
which was around him,[4] he caught two of the swift, stout deer. He
fastened them to the back poles and the bows and the thongs of the chariot.

[6-6] LU. and YBL. 669-679.

[1-1] LU. and YBL. 681-686.

[2-2] LU. and YBL. 686.

[3-3] LU. and YBL. 687.

[4-4] Stowe.

"They continued their way to the mound-seat of Emain, where they saw flocks
of white swans flying by them. "What are those birds there, O Ibar?" the
lad asked; "are yonder birds tame [LL.fo.67.] or are they other birds?"
"Indeed, they are real wild birds," Ibar answered; "flocks of swans are
they that come from the rocks and crags and islands of the great sea
without, to feed on the plains and smooth spots of Erin." "Which would be
stranger [5]to the Ulstermen,[5] O Ibar, for them to be fetched alive to
Emain or dead?" asked the lad. "Stranger far, alive," [W.1333.] Ibar
answered, "for not every one succ