The Gruagach gave him the other leg, blew it under him with power of enchantment. Micky Mor jumped up. “These are my own legs in strength and activity. You’ll not go out of this now till the Gruagach comes, and you pay for the kiss you took from his wife.”
“I have no wish to knock a trial out of you,” said the Gruagach, and he changed himself into his own form again. “You see who I am; and I am the huntsman who took your legs with the drink that you got from the cup, and I am your own brother born and bred.”
“Where were you,” asked the Big Fool, “when my father was killed with all his men?”
“I was in the Eastern World at that time, learning enchantment and magic.”
“If you are my brother,” said the Big Fool, “we will go with each other forevermore. Come with me now to such a wood. We will fight there four giants who are doing great harm to our people these many years.”
“Dear brother,” said the Gruagach, “there is no use for us to go against the four giants; they are too powerful and strong for us, they will kill us.”
“Let me fight with three of them,” said Micky Mor, “and I’ll not leave a foot or a hand of them living on earth; you can settle one.”
The Gruagach had his great stallion of the road brought from the stable for himself and his brother to ride. When they led him out, the stallion gave three neighs,—a neigh of lamentation, a neigh of loyalty, and a neigh of gladness.
This stallion had the three qualities of Fin MacCool’s slim bay steed,—a keen rush against a hill, a swift run on the level, a high running leap; three qualities of the fox,—the gait of a fox gay and proud, a look straight ahead taking in both sides and turning to no side, neat in his tread on the road; three qualities of a bull,—a full eye, a thick neck, a bold forehead.
They rode to the forest of the giants; and the moment they entered, the giants sniffed them, and one of them cried out, “I find the smell of men from Erin, their livers and lights for my supper of nights, their blood for my morning dram, their jawbones for stepping-stones, and their shins for hurleys. We think you are too big for one bite and too small for two bites, and sooner or later we’ll have you out of the way.”