“Get me a horse, get me a horse!”
And what were they doing only cutting down the bohlans and riding away on them.
“Get me a horse, get me a horse!” says old Paddy, calling out along with them.
But the fellow in the red cap came over to him looking terrible vexed.
“Don’t let another word out of you,” says he, “except one of ourselves speaks first. Mind what I’m telling you or it will be a cause of misfortune.”
“I’ll say no more except in answer to a question,” says Paddy.
With that they brought him a white yearling calf, and put him up for to ride upon it. He thought it was a queer sort of a horse, but he passed no remarks. And away they rode at a great pace, the Good People on the bohlans and Paddy on the yearling calf.
They made grand going, and it wasn’t long before they came to a big lake had an island in the middle of it. With one spring the whole party landed on the island and with another they were safe on the far shore.
“Dam, but that was a great lep for a yearling calf,” says Paddy.
With that one of the Good People struck him a blow on the head, the way the sense was knocked out of him and he fell on the field.