There was a law at that time in Britain to this effect: “Every criminal shall be given as a forfeit for his crime to the person he has injured.”
Now Cairbré had a wonderful dagger, around the haft of which was an adornment of silver and gold. It was a precious jewel, and he took fat meat and rubbed it all over the haft, with much grease. Then he set it before the lapdog, who began to gnaw at the haft, and continued gnawing all night till the morning, so that the haft was spoiled and was no longer beautiful.
Then on the morrow, Cairbré made complaint that his beautiful dagger was destroyed, and he demanded a just recompense.
“That is indeed fair,” said his friend, “I shall pay a price for the trespass.”
“I ask no other price,” said Cairbré, “than what the law of Britain allows me, namely, the criminal for his crime.”
So the lapdog was given to Cairbré, and it was called ever after Mug-Eimé, the slave of the haft, which name clung to it because it passed into servitude as a forfeit for the trespass.
Now when Cairbré brought it back to Erin with him, all the kings of Ireland began to wrangle and contend for possession of the lapdog, and the contention at last ended in this wise—it was agreed that the dog should abide for a certain time in the house of each king. Afterwards the dog littered, and each of them had a pup of the litter, and from this stock descends every lapdog in Ireland from that time till now.
After a long while the lapdog died, and the bare skull being brought to the blind poet Maer to try his power of divination, he at once exclaimed, through the prophetic power and vision in him, “O Mug-Eimé! this is indeed the head of Mug-Eimé, the slave of the haft, that was brought into Ireland and given over to the fate of a bondsman, and to the punishment of servitude as a forfeit.”
The word hound entered into many combinations as a name for various animals. Thus the rabbit was called, “the hound of the brake;” the hare was the “brown hound;” the moth was called “the hound of fur,” owing to the voracity with which it devoured raiment. And the otter is still called by the Irish Madradh-Uisgue (the dog of the water).