A STORY OF ANCIENT IRELAND
| chariots | weapon | barriers | protector |
| whelp | award | district | savage |
There was a great smith in Ulster of the name of Culain, who made a feast for Conchubar and his people. When Conchubar was setting out to the feast, he passed by the lawn where the boy troop were at their games, and he watched them awhile, and saw how young Setanta, his sister’s son, was winning the goal from them all.
“That little lad will serve Ulster yet,” said Conchubar; “and call him to me now,” he said, “and let him come with me to the smith’s feast.”
“I cannot go with you now,” said Setanta, when they had called to him, “for these boys have not had enough of play yet.”
“It would be too long for me to wait for you,” said the king.
“There is no need for you to wait; I will follow the track of the chariots,” said Setanta.
So Conchubar went on to the smith’s house, and there was a welcome before him, and the feast was brought in, and they began to be merry. And then Culain said to the king, “Will there be any one else of your people coming after you to-night?”
“There will not,” said Conchubar, for he forgot that he had told the little lad to follow him. “But why do you ask me that?” he said.
“I have a fierce hound,” said the smith, “and when I take the chain off him, he lets no one come into the district with himself, and he will obey no one but myself, and he has in him the strength of a hundred.”
“Loose him out,” said Conchubar, “and let him keep a watch on the place.”
So Culain loosed him out, and the dog made a course round the whole district, and then he came back to the place where he was used to watch the house.
Now, as to the boys at Emain, when they were done playing, every one went to his father’s house, or to whoever was in charge of him. But Setanta set out on the track of the chariots, shortening the way for himself with his hurling stick and his ball.
When he came to the lawn before the smith’s house, the hound heard him coming, and began such a fierce yelling that he might have been heard through all Ulster, and he sprang at him as if he had a mind not to stop and tear him up at all, but to swallow him at the one mouthful. The little fellow had no weapon but his stick and his ball, but when he saw the hound coming at him, he struck the ball with such force that it went down his throat, and through his body. Then he seized him by the hind legs and dashed him against a rock until there was no life left in him.
When the men feasting within heard the outcry of the hound, Conchubar started up and said, “It is no good luck brought us on this journey, for that is surely my sister’s son that was coming after me, and that has got his death by the hound.”
On that all the men rushed out, not waiting to go through the door, but over walls and barriers as they could. But Fergus was the first to get to where the boy was, and he took him up and lifted him on his shoulder, and brought him in safe and sound to Conchubar, and there was great joy in them all.
But Culain the smith went out with them, and when he saw his great hound lying dead and broken, there was great grief in his heart, and he came in and said to Setanta, “There is no good welcome for you here.”
“What have you against the little lad?” said Conchubar.
“It was no good luck that brought him here, or that made me prepare this feast for yourself,” said the smith, “for now, my hound being gone, my substance will be wasted, and my way of living will be gone astray. And, little boy,” he said, “that was a good member of my family you took from me, for he was the protector of my flocks and of all that I have.”
“Do not be vexed on account of that,” said the boy, “and I myself will makeup to you for what I have done.”
“How will you do that?” said Conchubar.
“This is how I will do it: if there is a whelp of the same breed to be had in Ireland, I will rear him and train him until he is as good a hound as the one killed; and until that time, Culain,” he said, “I myself will be your watchdog, to guard your goods and your cattle and your house.”
“You have made a fair offer,” said Conchubar.
“I could have given no better award myself,” said Cathbad the Druid. “And from this out,” he said, “your name will be Cuchulain, the Hound of Culain.”
“I am better pleased with my own name of Setanta,” said the boy.
“Do not say that,” said Cathbad, “for all the men in the whole world will some day have the name of Cuchulain in their mouths.”
“If that is so, I am content to keep it,” said the boy. And this is how he came by the name Cuchulain.
—Lady Gregory.