d to live, as they must have lived, in terror.

What stories they would have told the child of the sons of Morna. Of
Morna himself, the huge-shouldered, stern-eyed, violent Connachtman; and
of his sons--young Goll Mor mac Morna in particular, as huge-shouldered
as his father, as fierce in the onset, but merry-eyed when the other
was grim, and bubbling with a laughter that made men forgive even his
butcheries. Of Cona'n Mael mac Morna his brother, gruff as a badger,
bearded like a boar, bald as a crow, and with a tongue that could manage
an insult where another man would not find even a stammer. His boast was
that when he saw an open door he went into it, and when he saw a closed
door he went into it. When he saw a peaceful man he insulted him, and
when he met a man who was not peaceful he insulted him. There was Garra
Duv mac Morna, and savage Art Og, who cared as little for their own
skins as they did for the next man's, and Garra must have been rough
indeed to have earned in that clan the name of the Rough mac Morna.
There were others: wild Connachtmen all, as untameable, as unaccountable
as their own wonderful countryside.

Fionn would have heard much of them, and it is likely that he practised
on a nettle at taking the head off Goll, and that he hunted a sheep
from cover in the implacable manner he intended later on for Cona'n the
Swearer.

But it is of Uail mac Baiscne he would have heard most. With what a
dilation of spirit the ladies would have told tales of him, Fionn's
father. How their voices would have become a chant as feat was added
to feat, glory piled on glory. The most famous of men and the most
beautiful; the hardest fighter; the easiest giver; the kingly champion;
the chief of the Fianna na h-Eirinn. Tales of how he had been way-laid
and got free; of how he had been generous and got free; of how he had
been angry and went marching with the speed of an eagle and the direct
onfall of a storm; while in front and at the sides, angled from the prow
of his terrific advance, were fleeing multitudes who did not dare to
wait and scarce had time to run. And of how at last, when the time
came to quell him, nothing less than the whole might of Ireland was
sufficient for that great downfall.

We may be sure that on these adventures Fionn was with his father, going
step for step with the long-striding hero, and heartening him mightily.

CHAPTER IV

He was given good training by the women in running and lea