"Well, my bully, don't be cast down," said Oonagh; "depend on me, and maybe I'll bring you better out of this scrape than ever you could bring yourself, by your rule o' thumb."
This quieted Fin's heart very much, for he knew that Oonagh was hand and glove with the fairies; and, indeed, to tell the truth, she was supposed to be a fairy herself. If she was, however, she must have been a kind-hearted one, for, by all accounts, she never did anything but good in the neighbourhood.
Now it so happened that Oonagh had a sister named Granua, living opposite them, on the very top of Cullamore, which I have mentioned already, and this Granua was quite as powerful as herself. The beautiful valley that lies between them is not more than about three or four miles broad, so that of a summer's evening, Granua and Oonagh were able to hold many an agreeable conversation across it, from the one hill-top to the other. Upon this occasion Oonagh resolved to consult her sister as to what was best to be done in the difficulty that surrounded them.
"Granua," said she, "are you at home?"
"No," said the other; "I'm picking bilberries in Althadhawan" (Anglicé, the Devil's Glen).
"Well," said Oonagh, "get up to the top of Cullamore, look about you, and then tell us what you see."
"Very well," replied Granua; after a few minutes, "I am there now."
"What do you see?" asked the other.
"Goodness be about us!" exclaimed Granua, "I see the biggest giant that ever was known coming up from Dungannon."
"Ay," said Oonagh, "there's our difficulty. That giant is the great Cucullin; and he's now commin' up to leather Fin. What's to be done?"