“And where did iron come from?” said the Smith.
“From the Mountains of the Moon,” said the King of the Cats.
The men in the Forge put their hands on their knees and looked down at him. Mahon the hound came into the Forge with other hounds at his tail, and seeing the men looking at the King of the Cats, Mahon put his nose to him. Cock-o’-the-Walk flapped his wings insolently. The King of the Cats struck at the red hanging comb with his paw. The Cock flew up in the air. The King of the Cats sprang out of the window, and as he did, Mahon and the other hounds sprang after him—
IV
The King of Ireland’s Son rode towards the East the next day, and in the first hour’s journey he saw the blue falcon sailing above. He followed where it went and the falcon never lifted nor stooped, but sailed steadily on, only now and again beating the air with its wings. Over benns and through glens and across moors the blue falcon flew and the King of Ireland’s Son followed. Then his horse stumbled; he could not go any further, and he lost sight of the blue falcon.
Black night was falling down on the ground when he came back to the King’s Castle. Art, the King’s Steward, was waiting for him and he walked beside his limping horse. And Art said when they were a little way together, “The Coming of the King of the Cats is a story still to be told.
“To your father’s Son in all truth be it told “—
By the magic powers they possessed it was made known to all the cats in the country that their King was being pursued by the hounds. Then on every hearthstone a cat howled. Cats sprang to the doors, overturning cradles upon children. They stood upon the thresholds and they all made the same curse—“That ye may break your backs, that ye may break your backs before ye catch the King of the Cats.”
When he heard the howls of his vassals, retainers and subjects, the King of the Cats turned over on his back and clawed at the first hound that came after him. He stood up then. So firmly did he set himself on his four legs that those that dashed at him did not overthrow him. He humped up his body and lifted his forepaws. The hounds held back. A horn sounded and that gave them an excuse to get away from the claws and the teeth, the power and the animosity of the King of the Cats.
Then, even though it might cost each and every one of them the loss of an eye, the cats that had sight of him came running up. “We will go with you, my lord, we will help you, my lord,” they cried all together.