ey travelled till Grania grew weary, and Muadan carried her on his
back to the foot of a great mountain. And there they rested on the
bank of the stream.

Meanwhile the few men who had been left alive abandoned their ship,
and sought the three chiefs who were lying bound on the hill. They
tried to loosen the bands of the captives, but only drew them tighter.

Soon they saw the witch-messenger of Fionn coming over the tops of the
hills skimming from one to the other as lightly as a swallow.

'Who has made this great slaughter?' said she.

'Who are you that ask?' said they.

'I am Deirdre, the witch-messenger of Fionn, and he has sent me to
look for you.'

'We know not who the man was,' answered they, 'but his hair was black
and curly, and his countenance ruddy. And he has bound our three
chiefs, so that we cannot loose them.'

'It was Diarmid himself,' said she; 'so loosen your hounds on his
track, and I will send Fionn and his Fenians to help you.'

The men went down to their ships, and brought out their hounds, and
loosened them on the track of Diarmid. The hounds made straight for
the door of the cave, and the men followed them; and the hounds left
the cave, and set forth westwards.

But Diarmid knew not of their coming till he saw silken banners
waving, and three mighty warriors marching at the head. And he was
filled with hatred of them, and went his ways, and Muadan took Grania
on his back and bore her a mile along the mountain.

It was not long before they heard the hound coming, and Muadan bade
Diarmid follow Grania, and he would keep the hound at bay. And when he
had slain the hound, he departed after Diarmid and Grania.

Then the second hound was loosened, and Diarmid waited till he came
close, so that he could take sure aim; and he cast his javelin into
the hound and it fell dead like its fellow, and having drawn his
javelin, he followed after Grania.

They had not gone much farther before the third hound was upon them.
He bounded straight over the head of Diarmid, and would have seized
Grania, but Diarmid took hold of his two hind legs, and swung him so
fiercely against a rock that he was slain on the spot. And when that
was done, Diarmid put on his arms, and slipped his little finger into
the silken string of the javelin, and cast it straight at a youth in a
green mantle that had outstripped his fellows, and slew him; and so to
the rest, while Deirdre, the witch, wheeled and hovered about them