es of brushwood and laid it against the palisade and set
it on fire, and the Immortal Ones sent a blast of wind that set the
brushwood and palisade quickly in a blaze, and through that fiery gap
we charged in shouting. And half of the men of Luachar we killed and
the rest fled, and the Lord of Luachar I slew in the doorway of his
palace. We took a great spoil then, O Crimmal--these vessels of bronze
and silver, and spears and bows, smoked bacon and skins of Greek wine;
and in a great chest of yewwood we found this bag. All these things
shall now remain with you, and my company shall also remain to hunt
for you and protect you, for ye shall know want and fear no longer
while ye live."

And Finn said, "I would fain know if my mother Murna still lives, or
if she died by the sons of Morna."

Crimmal said, "After thy father's death, Finn, she was wedded to
Gleor, Lord of Lamrigh, in the south, and she still lives in honour
with him, and the sons of Morna have let her be. Didst thou never see
her since she gave thee, an infant, to the wise women on the day of
Cnucha?"

"I remember," said Finn, "when I was, as they tell me, but six years
old, there came one day to our shieling in the woods of Slieve Bloom a
chariot with bronze-shod wheels and a bronze wolf's head at the end of
the pole, and two horsemen riding with it, besides him who drove. A
lady was in it, with a gold frontlet on her brow and her cloak was
fastened with a broad golden brooch. She came into our hut and spoke
long with my foster-mothers, and me she clasped in her arms and kissed
many times, and I felt her tears on my face. And they told me
afterwards that this was Murna of the White Neck, and my mother. If
she have suffered no harm at the hands of the sons of Morna, so much
the less is the debt that they shall one day pay."

Now it is to be told what happened to Finn at the house of Finegas the
Bard. Finn did not deem that the time had come for him to seize the
captaincy of the Fianna until he had perfected himself in wisdom and
learning. So on leaving the shelter of the old men in the wood he went
to learn wisdom and the art of poetry from Finegas, who dwelt by the
River Boyne, near to where is now the village of Slane. It was a
belief among the poets of Ireland that the place of the revealing of
poetry is always by the margin of water. But Finegas had another
reason for the place where he made his dwelling, for there was an old
prophecy that whoever sh