Fergus rose and opened the door, and a flash of lightning showed him a
little old woman, with a shuttle in her hand, standing outside.

"Come in, and welcome," said he, and the little old woman stepped into
the room.

"Blessings be on them who give welcome to a wanderer on a wild night
like this," said the old woman.

"And who wouldn't give welcome on a night like this?" said the
huntsman's wife, coming forward with a peggin of milk and a barley
cake in her hand, "and sorry we are we have not better fare to offer
you."

"Enough is as good as a feast," said the little woman, "and now go
back to your beds and leave me to myself."

"Not till I shake down a bed of rushes for you," said the huntsman's
wife.

"Don't mind the rushes," said the little woman; "go back to your beds.
I'll sleep here by the fire."

The huntsman's wife went to bed, and the little old woman, having
eaten her supper, lay down by the fire, and was soon fast asleep.

About an hour later another clap of thunder startled Fergus. Again he
heard three knocks at the door. He roused his parents, but he did not
wait for orders from them. He opened the door, and a flash of
lightning showed him outside the threshold a low-sized, shaggy,
wild-looking horse. And Fergus knew it was the Pooka, the wild horse
of the mountains. Bold as Fergus was, his heart beat quickly as he saw
fire issuing from the Pooka's nostrils. But, banishing fear, he cried
out:

"Come in, and welcome."

"Welcome you are," said the huntsman, "and sorry we are that we have
not better shelter or fare to offer you."

"I couldn't wish a better welcome," said the Pooka, as he came over
near the fire and sat down on his haunches.

"Maybe you would like a little bit of this, Master Pooka," said the
huntsman's wife, as she offered him a barley cake.

"I never tasted anything sweeter in my life," said the Pooka,
crunching it between his teeth, "and now if you can give me a sup of
milk, I'll want for nothing."

The huntsman's wife brought him a peggin of milk. When he had drunk
it, "Now," says the Pooka, "go back to your beds, and I'll curl myself
up by the fire and sleep like a top till morning."

And soon everybody in the hut was fast asleep.

When the morning came the storm had gone, and the sun was shining
through the windows of the hut. At the song of the lark Fergus got up,
and no one in the world was ever more surprised than he when he saw no
sign of the little old man, or t