r of Allen. As the hunt swept along the sides of the hill there
arose a great outcry of hounds from a narrow place high on the slope
and, over all that uproar there came the savage baying of Fionn's own
dogs.

"What is this for?" said Fionn, and with his companions he pressed to
the spot whence the noise came.

"They are fighting all the hounds of the Fianna," cried a champion.

And they were. The five wise hounds were in a circle and were giving
battle to an hundred dogs at once. They were bristling and terrible, and
each bite from those great, keen jaws was woe to the beast that received
it. Nor did they fight in silence as was their custom and training, but
between each onslaught the great heads were uplifted, and they pealed
loudly, mournfully, urgently, for their master.

"They are calling on me," he roared.

And with that he ran, as he had only once before run, and the men who
were nigh to him went racing as they would not have run for their lives.
They came to the narrow place on the slope of the mountain, and they saw
the five great hounds in a circle keeping off the other dogs, and in
the middle of the ring a little boy was standing. He had long, beautiful
hair, and he was naked. He was not daunted by the terrible combat and
clamour of the hounds. He did not look at the hounds, but he stared like
a young prince at Fionn and the champions as they rushed towards him
scattering the pack with the butts of their spears. When the fight was
over, Bran and Sceo'lan ran whining to the little boy and licked his
hands.

"They do that to no one," said a bystander. "What new master is this
they have found?"

Fionn bent to the boy. "Tell me, my little prince and pulse, what your
name is, and how you have come into the middle of a hunting-pack, and
why you are naked?"

But the boy did not understand the language of the men of Ireland. He
put his hand into Fionn's, and the Chief felt as if that little hand had
been put into his heart. He lifted the lad to his great shoulder.

"We have caught something on this hunt," said he to Caelte mac Rongn.
"We must bring this treasure home. You shall be one of the Fianna-Finn,
my darling," he called upwards.

The boy looked down on him, and in the noble trust and fearlessness of
that regard Fionn's heart melted away.

"My little fawn!" he said.

And he remembered that other fawn. He set the boy between his knees and
stared at him earnestly and long.

"There is surely the