nything, and the unknown pursued him; that
terrible defence became offence and hung to his heel as a wolf pads by
the flank of a bull.

And Aillen was not in his own world! He was in the world of men, where
movement is not easy and the very air a burden. In his own sphere, in
his own element, he might have outrun Fionn, but this was Fionn's world,
Fionn's element, and the flying god was not gross enough to outstrip
him. Yet what a race he gave, for it was but at the entrance to his
own Shi' that the pursuer got close enough. Fionn put a finger into
the thong of the great spear, and at that cast night fell on Aillen
mac Midna. His eyes went black, his mind whirled and ceased, there
came nothingness where he had been, and as the Birgha whistled into his
shoulder-blades he withered away, he tumbled emptily and was dead. Fionn
took his lovely head from its shoulders and went back through the night
to Tara.

Triumphant Fionn, who had dealt death to a god, and to whom death would
be dealt, and who is now dead!

He reached the palace at sunrise.

On that morning all were astir early. They wished to see what
destruction had been wrought by the great being, but it was young Fionn
they saw and that redoubtable head swinging by its hair. "What is your
demand?" said the Ard-Ri'. "The thing that it is right I should ask,"
said Fionn: "the command of the Fianna of Ireland."

"Make your choice," said Conn to Goll Mor; "you will leave Ireland, or
you will place your hand in the hand of this champion and be his man."

Goll could do a thing that would be hard for another person, and he
could do it so beautifully that he was not diminished by any action.

"Here is my hand," said Goll.

And he twinkled at the stern, young eyes that gazed on him as he made
his submission.

THE BIRTH OF BRAN

CHAPTER I

There are people who do not like dogs a bit--they are usually women--but
in this story there is a man who did not like dogs. In fact, he hated
them. When he saw one he used to go black in the face, and he threw
rocks at it until it got out of sight. But the Power that protects all
creatures had put a squint into this man's eye, so that he always threw
crooked.

This gentleman's name was Fergus Fionnliath, and his stronghold was near
the harbour of Galway. Whenever a dog barked he would leap out of his
seat, and he would throw everything that he owned out of the window in
the direction of the bark. He gave prizes to s