‘But how shall we get away at all, at all?’ said she in the morning.
Brian lifted the window, and he put out the Sun Goddess through it.
The fox met them. ‘Thou wilt do yet,’ said he. ‘Leap you on top of me.’
And when they were far, far away, and near the country of Big Women, ‘Now, Brian,’ said the fox, ‘is it not a great pity for thyself to give away this Sun Goddess for the White Glaive of Light?’
‘Is it not that which is wounding me at this very time?’ said Brian.
‘It is that I will make a Sun Goddess of myself, and thou shalt give me to the Big Women,’ said the fox.
‘I had rather part with the Sun Goddess herself than thee.’
‘But never thou mind, Brian, they won’t keep me long.’
Here Brian went in with the fox as a Sun Goddess, and he got the White Glaive of Light. Brian left the fox with the Big Women, and he went forward. In a day or two the fox overtook them, and they got on him. And when they were nearing the house of the big giant, ‘Is it not a great pity for thyself, O Brian, to part with the White Glaive of Light for that filth of a marvellous bird?’ [[288]]
‘There is no help for it,’ said Brian.