So he went forwards, and said, “And what, my lad, art thou doing here?” Not knowing who it was who spoke to him, the lad replied, “I am come out to polish chariot-poles, because our chariots have been sorely damaged in our chase of that famous wild deer, Cuchulain; and indeed, good warrior, I am making all the haste I can, for fear this same Cuchulain may pounce down on me. Certainly he would make short work of me; therefore, O Youth, if thou hast time, lend me a hand and help me with my task.” “Willingly,” said Cuchulain, “will I help thee. Take thou thy choice; shall I cut down the holly-poles? or shall I smooth them for thee?” “To trim them is the slowest work; therefore while I hew down the trees do thou smooth off the branches and the twigs.”
Cuchulain set to work to trim the holly-poles, and quickly were they done. Simply by drawing them between his fingers and his toes, he finished them to perfect smoothness, and threw them down without a twig or bit of bark or any rough excrescence on the ground. Closely and with surprise the young man watched this feat. At last he said: “I am inclined to think that thou art accustomed to some higher work than cutting chariot-poles. Who art thou then at all?”
“I am that notable Cuchulain of whom just now thou spakest,” the hero said. “Art thou indeed? then am I but a dead man,” the youth cried, trembling as he spoke; “no one escapes Cuchulain’s hands alive.”
“Fear nothing,” replied Cuchulain, “for I never slay a man unarmed or charioteer. Whose man art thou, and where is thy master to be found?” “A servant I of Orlam, son of Meave, who awaits my coming near at hand,” replied the charioteer. “Take him this message then,” Cuchulain said. “Tell him the Hound of Ulster is at hand, and bid him guard his head, for if we meet, his head will surely fall.”
Then the charioteer, right glad to get away, sought out his master with all haste; but before he could reach him, Cuchulain had outstripped him, and struck off the head of Orlam, holding it aloft and shaking it before the men of Erin.
From that time forward Cuchulain took up his position nearer to the host, cutting off and destroying them, and at evening he would brandish and shake his weapons before the army, so that men died of pure fear of him.
“Our army will be destroyed before ever we reach Emain Macha,” said Meave at length. “If I could but see this hero who troubles our armies, and speak to him myself, I would offer him terms; for if we could persuade him to forsake Ulster, and come over to our side, it would go hard with us, if all Ulster would not be subdued before us, and ourselves return from this expedition the greatest monarch in Ireland.” Calling Mac Roth, her herald, she said to him, “Prepare your chariot, Mac Roth, and seek out for us this Deer of Ill-luck who is pursuing our army and bringing misfortune upon us. Offer him terms to forsake the service of Conor and to enter our own service. Give him whatever terms he asks, and bid him come himself to-morrow to confer with me, but not to cross the glen. Well should I like to see this mighty man, but I would not have him come too near.”
“I care not to go on this embassy,” quoth Mac Roth; “besides, I know not where to find Cuchulain.” “Fergus will know,” said Meave, for she believed that Fergus was in league with his foster-son, and she forgave him not that he loved Ulster still, in spite of all that she had done for him; so she said, “Fergus will surely know.”
“I know not,” said Fergus, “but this I know, that after any feat of war or combat with an enemy it is not by sleep or lazy loitering Cuchulain rests himself, but by exercising in the open air and sun, letting the cool breezes blow upon his wearied body. Likely it is, that somewhere ’twixt the mountains and the sea he will be found.”