s up to his
knees. He was covered with hair and had a big head with horse's
ears. And the Glashan twitched his horse's ears as he smoked in great
contentment.

"Glashan, come here," said the King of Ireland's Son.

But the Glashan gave him no heed at all.

"I want you to carry me across the River of the Broken Towers," shouted
the King of Ireland's Son. The Glashan went on smoking and twisting his
ears.

And the King of Ireland's Son might have known that the whole clan
of the Gruagachs and Glashans are fond of their own ease and will do
nothing if they can help it. He twitched his ears more sharply when the
King's Son threw a pebble at him. Then after about three hours he came
slowly across the river. From his big knees down he had horse's feet.

"Take me on your big shoulders, Glashan," said the King of Ireland's
Son, "and carry me across to the shore of the Land of Mist."

"Not carrying any more across," said the Glashan. The King of Ireland's
Son drew the Sword of Light and flashed it.

"Oh, if you have that, you'll have to be carried across," said the
Glashan. "But wait until I rest myself."

"What did you do that you should rest?" said the King of Ireland's Son.
"Take me on your shoulders and start off."

"Musha," said the Glashan, "aren't you very anxious to lose your life?"

"Take me on your shoulders." "Well, come then. You're not the first
living dead man I carried across." The Glashan put his pipe into his
ear. The King of Ireland's Son mounted his shoulders and laid hold of
his thick mane. Then the Glashan put his horse's legs into the water and
started to cross the River of the Broken Towers.

"The Land of Mist has a King," said the Glashan, when they were in the
middle of the river.

"That, Glashan, I know," said the King of Ireland's Son.

"All right," said the Glashan.

Then said he when they were three-quarters of the way across, "Maybe you
don't know that the King of the Land of Mist will kill you?"

"Maybe 'tis I who will kill him," said the King of Ireland's Son.

"You'd be a hardy little fellow if you did that," said the Glashan. "But
you won't do it."

They went on. The water was up to the Glashan's waist but that gave him
no trouble. So broad was the river that they were traveling across it
all day. The Glashan threw the King's Son in once when he stooped to
pick up an eel. Said the King of Ireland's Son, "What way is the Castle
of the King of the Land of Mist guarded, Glash