the smith who forged it, and the anvil whereon
it was wrought."

The knights rested in the house of Custennin the herdsman, but the next
day at dawn they returned to the castle and renewed their request.

Yspathaden said it was necessary that he should consult Olwen's four
great-grandmothers and her four great-grand-sires.

The knights again withdrew, and as they were going he took the second
dart and cast it after them.

But Menw caught it and flung it back, piercing Yspathaden's breast with
it, so that it came out at the small of his back.

"A cursed ungentle son-in-law, truly," says he, "the hard iron pains me
like the bite of a horse-leech. Cursed be the hearth whereon it was
heated! Henceforth whenever I go up a hill, I shall have a scant in my
breath and a pain in my chest."

On the third day the knights returned once more to the palace, and
Yspathaden took the third dart and cast it at them.

But Kilhuch caught it and threw it vigorously, and wounded him through
the eyeball, so that the dart came out at the back of his head.

"A cursed ungentle son-in-law, truly. As long as I remain alive my
eyesight will be the worse. Whenever I go against the wind my eyes will
water, and peradventure my head will burn, and I shall have a giddiness
every new moon. Cursed be the fire in which it was forged. Like the
bite of a mad dog is the stroke of this poisoned iron."

And they went to meat.

Said Yspathaden Penkawr, "Is it thou that seekest my daughter?"

"It is I," answered Kilhuch.

"I must have thy pledge that thou wilt not do towards me otherwise than
is just, and when I have gotten that which I shall name, my daughter
thou shalt have."

"I promise thee that willingly," said Kilhuch, "name what thou wilt."

"I will do so," said he.

"Throughout the world there is not a comb or scissors with which I can
arrange my hair, on, account of its rankness, except the comb and
scissors that are between the two ears of Turch Truith, the son of
Prince Tared. He will not give them of his own free will, and thou wilt
not be able to compel him."

"It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think
that it will not be easy."

"Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. It
will not be possible to hunt Turch Truith without Drudwyn the whelp of
Greid, the son of Eri, and know that throughout the world there is not
a huntsman who can hunt with this dog, except Mabon the son of Modron