shafts up, and it was seen that two were standing
side by side in advance of the rest, one belonged to Fergus, the other
to the great chief, Oscar. The contest for the prize then lay between
Oscar and Fergus, and when they stood in front of the king, holding
their spears aloft, every heart was throbbing with excitement. Once more
the heralds struck their shields, and, swifter than the lightning's
flash, forth went the spears, and when Fergus's spear was seen shivering
in the ground a full length ahead of the great chief Oscar's, the air was
shaken by a wild cheer that was heard far beyond the plains of Tara. And
as Fergus approached the high king to receive the prize the cheers were
renewed. But Fergus thought more of the winsome glance of the princess
than he did of the prize or the sounding cheers. And Princess Maureen
was almost sorry for her vow, for her heart was touched by the beauty
of the Fenian champion.

Other contests followed, and the day passed, and the night fell, and
while the Fenian warriors were reveling in their camps the heart of
Fergus, victor as he was, was sad and low. He escaped from his
companions, and stole away to his native forest, for--

"When the heart is sick and sorest,
There is balsam in the forest--
There is balsam in the forest
For its pain."

And as he lay under the spreading branches, watching the stars glancing
through the leaves, and listening to the slumb'rous murmur of the
waters, a strange peace came over him.

But in the camp which he had left, and in the vast multitude on the plains
of Tara, there was stir and revelry, and babbling speculation as to the
contest of to-morrow--the contest which was to decide whether the chief
bard of Erin was to hold his own against all comers, or yield the palm.
For rumor said that a great Skald had come from the northern lands to
compete with the Irish bard.

At last, over the Fenian camp, and over the great plain and the
multitude that thronged it, sleep fell, clothing them with a silence as
deep as that which dwelt in the forest, where, dreaming of the princess,
Fergus lay. He awoke at the first notes of the birds, but though he felt
he ought to go back to his companions and be witness of the contest
which might determine whether the princess was to be another's bride,
his great love and his utter despair of winning her so oppressed him
that he lay as motionless as a broken reed. He scarcely heard the mu