Ciad asked how that was.
She said: “Feach-An-Chruic [the Terrible Man of the Hill] took away the bottle of loca and the Riches of the World from me two hundred years ago.”
“I do not believe it,” said Ciad.
But she took him outside and showed him the hoof tracks of the Feach’s horses, where last night’s rains were still lying in them.
“Where does Feach-An-Chruic live?” Ciad asked.
“He lives a third part of the world from here,” the hag said.
“How may I get there?” Ciad said.
“As best you can,” said the hag.
“By this and by that,” said Ciad, seizing her staff, “I’ll make meal of your old bones if you don’t direct me.”
She took him down to the shore, took a black whistle from her pocket and blew on it, when a little red fish appeared on top of the water.