he mean battle.
The giant replied: “If you do not mean battle, I do not.”
“Where are you going, then?” Ciad asked.
The giant said: “I’m going in search of the Riches of the World.”
“Where is that to be found?” said Ciad.
“It’s on an island in the Far World,” the giant said, “and is owned by the Queen of the Island of the Riches of the World.”
“Then I’ll go with you,” Ciad said.
The giant agreed to this, and all sailed off.
They sailed away and away, far further than I could tell you, and twice as far as you could tell me, until at length they reached the island.
The giant said to Ciad: “Send your men on the island first, and demand the Riches of the World.”
Ciad agreed to this, and sent his men on the island on a morning, but when night fell they had not come back. Next day Ciad himself landed, and went in search of them. In the second valley, he found his thirty men lying in blood. He said: “This is the giant’s doing.”
So he went back to his ship and told his two brothers if they would engage the giant’s men, he would engage the giant himself. This was agreed to, and they attacked the giant and his men.
A fiercer and bloodier battle was never fought on sea or land. The noise and the din were so loud, and the battling was so fierce, that the seals came down from the North Seas, the whales up from the deeps of the ocean, and the little red fishes, too, from the sea-meadows, gathering around the ship to watch the fight. For the length of a day they battled, and when the sun was one hour above the Western waters, Ceud, Mith-Ceud, and the giant’s men were all of them dead, but Ciad and the giant still battled. When the hoop of the sun was on the waters, the giant, finding himself weakening too fast, gave three calls. Ciad saw the blue mist coming down; he gave a bound into the air and drove his spear to the giant’s heart, and killed him.
Then he went on the island, and stood his two brothers up against a rock facing the east, with helmets on their heads, and shields and spears in their hands. On the next morning he set out to travel over the island, and at night he came to a little hut, where he found one old hag. He asked her if she had no company.
She said: “Yes, I have plenty of that.”
He asked to see her company.
She struck her staff on the hearthstone, and up sprang nine other hags as old and as ugly as herself. She struck the staff again upon the hearthstone, and then they were the nine most beautiful damsels Ciad had ever seen. The hag said: “If you stay with me, you can have your choice of these nine beautiful damsels for your wife.”
But Ciad remembered Dark Eye of France, and also remembered his geasa, and he said to the hag, he would have none of them.
Then she struck her staff upon the ground angrily, and they all disappeared.
He asked for supper and a bed for the night, and the old hag gave him the toes and the tongue of a rabbit for supper. She gave him a heather bed that scored and cut him, and an old black cat for a bedfellow.
In the morning he told the hag that he was looking for the queen of this island.
She said : “I am the queen.”
“If that is so,” he said, “I demand the bottle of loca and the Riches of the World.”
“That,” she said, “I am glad you cannot have.”
“If I cannot have it,” he said, “I will take your staff and break your old bones.”
“It’s like a hero to do that,” she said scoffingly; “but even if you made meal of my old bones, you would not be nearer the bottle of loca and the Riches of the World.”
Ciad asked how that was.
She said: “Feach-An-Chruic [the Terrible Man of the Hill] took away the bottle of loca and the Riches of the World from me two hundred years ago.”
“I do not believe it,” said Ciad.
But she took him outside and showed him the hoof tracks of the Feach’s horses, where last night’s rains were still lying in them.
“Where does Feach-An-Chruic live?” Ciad asked.
“He lives a third part of the world from here,” the hag said.
“How may I get there?” Ciad said.
“As best you can,” said the hag.
“By this and by that,” said Ciad, seizing her staff, “I’ll make meal of your old bones if you don’t direct me.”
She took him down to the shore, took a black whistle from her pocket and blew on it, when a little red fish appeared on top of the water.
“There,” she said, “follow that fish, and it will lead you to Feach-An-Chruic.”
Ciad stepped into his ship, hoisted his sails, and went off after the little red fish.
He went away for long, long days and long, long nights, sailing one-third of the whole world, until at length the little fish ran into a wood-bordered bay. Ciad anchored his ship here, and went on shore.
He traveled over the mountains for three days and three nights, and on the fourth day he found Feach-An- Chruic dividing beef among his men.
Ciad walked up to him, and asked for a bit of the beef.
“By my faith, no!” said Feach-An-Chruic. “But now that you’re here I’ll save my beef.”
“How is that?” said Ciad.
“Because I’ll divide you among my men,” said Feach-An-Chruic.
“You might not,” said Ciad.
So Ciad and the Feach fell to and fought.
The Feach was a wild and terrible fighter surely, but the courageous spirit of Ciad made him a better. The noise and din and fierceness of the fight was so great that the boars came down from the hills, and the deer came up from the valleys, and the birds came from the woods of the world, to watch it; but before night fell Ciad put the Feach down. Then he put his knee on his breast, and asked him where he would find the bottle of loca and the Riches of the World.
Feach-An-Chruic said: “If that is what you came for and what you fought for, I’m sorry for you. I had the bottle of loca and the Riches of the World only one night when Feach-An-Choille [the Terrible Man of the Wood] took them from me.”
“I do not believe it,” said Ciad.
But the Feach showed him the footprints of Feach-An-Choille, with last night’s rains still lying in them.
“And where does Feach-An-Choille live?” said Ciad.
“He lives a third of the world from here,” said Feach-An-Chruic.
“And how may I get there?” Ciad asked.
“You’re a brave man,” said Feach-An-Chruic, “and I would like to see you succeed.”
With the point of his spear he rang three times on his shield, and a wolf-dog came running up. “Follow that dog,” said Feach-An-Chruic, “and he will lead you to Feach-An-Choille.”
Ciad set out after the dog, and he traveled away and away, far further than I could tell you, and twice as far as you could tell me, over hill, height, and hollow, mountain, moor, and scrug, lone valley and green glen, for long and for long, until at length and at last he reached the land of Feach-An-Choille. Traveling through it he came upon a hut, and saw Feach-An-Choille himself standing outside. He was leaning against the end of his hut laughing, and every time he laughed oak trees fell.
“Why do you laugh?” said Ciad, when he reached him.
“I’m laughing for the joy of killing you,” said Feach-An-Choille.
“Wouldn’t it be better to laugh after?” said Ciad.
Then he raised his spear, and he and the Feach went at the fight. The noise and the din and the fierceness of the fight was such that the boars came down from the hills, and the deer came up from the valleys, and the birds from the woods of the world loaded the tree tops around, to watch. If Feach-An-Chruic was a great fighter, Feach-
