When O’Donnell saw his brother’s hair, he sent out word that he would give the third part of his property to any one who would do the same to himself. The smith thought he would try to do it this time alone. He went where O’Donnell was, and said to him that he would put hair on his head for him also, as he had done to his brother O’Neil. Then he asked that the cauldron be put on, and a good fire below it, and he took O’Donnell into a room, tied him on a table, then took up an axe, cut off his head, and threw it, face downwards, into the cauldron. In a while he took the prong to see if the hair was growing, but instead of the hair growing, the jaws were nearly falling out. The smith was almost out of his senses, not knowing what to do, when he heard a voice behind him saying to him, “You are in a strait.” This was the lad with the Black Art, he formerly had, returned. He blew at the cauldron stronger, brought the prong to see how the head was doing, or if the hair was growing on it. The next time he tried it, it would twine round his hand. Since it was so long of growing on it, he said, “We will put an additional fold round my hand.” When he tried it again it would reach two twists. He took it out of the cauldron and stuck it on the body. It cried to be quickly let go, when he saw his yellow hair down on his shoulders. The hair pleased him greatly; it was more abundant than that of O’Neil, his brother. They got fully what was promised them, and were going on their way home. The lad who had the Black Art said, “Had we not better divide the cattle?”

“We will not, we will not,” said the smith, “lift them with you, since I got clear.”

“Well,” said the other, “if you had said that before, you would not have gone home empty-handed, or with only one cow,” and with that he said, “You will take every one of them: I will take none of them.”

The smith went home with that herd, and he did not require to strike a blow in his smithy, neither did he meet with the one with the Black Art, ever after.

O’ NEIL, ’S MAR A CHAIDH AM FALT AIR A CHEANN.

Gobhainn bh’ ann roimhe so ann an Eirinn, ’s bha e latha de na làithean ag obair anns a’ cheàrdaich agus thàinig òganach stigh ’s dà sheana-bhoirionnach aige. Thuirt e ris a’ ghobhainn, “Bhithinn ann ad ehomain,” ars’ esan, “na ’n toireadh tu dhomh tacan de ’n bholg ’s de ’n innean.” Thuirt an gobhainn ris gu ’n tugadh. Rug e an sin air an dà chaillich, chaith e cearcall mu ’m meadhon, ’s chàirich e ’s an teallach iad, ’s shéid e am bolg riu; thug e ’n sin mach iad ’s rinn e aon bhoirionnach a bu bhreadha ’s a chunnaic sùil duine de ’n dà chaillich. ’N uair a luidh an gobhainn ’s an oidhche, thuirt e ris a mhnaoi, “Thàinig fear rathad na ceàrdaich an diugh ’s dà chaillich aige, ’s dh’ iarr e orm treis de ’n bholg ’s de ’n innean, ’s rinn e ’m boirionnach a bu bhriadha a chunnaic sùil duine riamh air an dà chaillich. Tha mo mhàthair fhéin ’s do mhàthair fhéin againn ann an so, ’s tha mi ’smaointeachadh gu ’m feuch mi ri aon bhoirionnach ceart a dheanamh orra bho ’n a chunnaic mi am fear eile ’g a dheanamh.”

“Dean,” ars’ ise, “tha mi làn-toileach.”

Am màireach thug e mach an dà chaillich ’s chuir e ’n cearcall mu ’m meadhon, ’s thilg e ’s an teallach iad. Cha b’ fhada ach gus an robh coltach nach bitheadh na cnàimhean fhéin aige dhiùbh. Bha an gobhainn ’n a chàs gun fhios aige ’dé dheanadh e, ach thàinig guth air a chùlthaobh, “Tha thu ann ad éiginn, a ghobhainn, ach ma dh’ fhaoidte gu ’n cuir mise ceart thu.” Rug e air a’ bholg ’s théid e na ’s teinne riu; thug e mach iad a sin ’s chuir e air an innean iad, ’s rinn e boirionnach a bu bhriadha de ’n dà chaillich. Thuirt e sin ris a’ ghobhainn, “Bha feum agad ormsa an diugh, ach,” ars’ esan, “’s ann a ’s fearr dhuit mise fhasdadh, ’s cha ’n iarr mi ort ach darna leth de na bheir mi a mach; ach gu ’m bi so anns a’ chùmhnant, gu ’m bi an treas trian de m’ thoil fhéin agam.” Dh’ fhasdaidh an gobhainn e.

Aig an àm sin chuir O’ Neil mach fios na ’m faigheadh e fear a chuireadh falt air, chionn cha robh falt idir air O’ Neil na air O’ Domhnull a bhràthair, gu ’n toireadh e dhoibh a’ cheathramh chuid d’ a mhaoin; ’s thuirt an gille ris a’ ghobhainn, “’S fhearr dhuinne falbh ’s bargan a dheanamh ri O’ Neil gu ’n cuir sinn falt air;” ’s rinn iad mar sin. “Abair thusa ris,” thuirt an gille ris a’ ghobhainn, “gu bheil gille agadsa a chuireas falt air, air son a’ cheathramh chuid d’ a mhaoin.”

Bha O’ Neil deònach air a shon so, agus dh’ iarr an gille seòmar fhaotainn dhoibh fhéin, ’s dh’ iarr e coire a chur air, ’s teine math ris. Rinneadh mar a dh’ iarr e, ’s chaidh O’ Neil a thoirt stigh, ’s chuir e ’n a shìneadh air bòrd e, ’s rug e air an tuaidh ’s thilg e dheth an ceann, ’s chuir e ’n comhair na goille anns a’ choire e. ’An ceann tacain rug e air gramaiche mòr a bh’ aige ’s thog e suas an ceann leis, ’s bha toiseach fuilt a’ tighinn air. Ann an ceann treis thog e suas a rithist e leis a’ ghramaiche cheudna, agus an uair so ruigeadh car m’ a dhòrn de ’n fhalt bhriadha bhuidhe. Thug e sin an togail ud air, ’s bhuail e air a’ choluinn e. Ghlaodh sin O’ Neil greasad air ’s a leigeil air a chois, ’n uair a chunnaic e ’m falt briadha buidhe a’ tighinn ’n a shùilean. Rinn e riu mar a gheall e; fhuair iad a cheathramh chuid d’ a mhaoin.