They went on sailing, and were a half a mile below Mount Charles when they saw a man running up against them faster than any wind, and one leg tied to his shoulder.
“Where are you going, and what is your hurry? Why are you travelling on one leg?” asked the red man.
“I am running to find a master,” said the other. “If I were to go on my two legs, no man could see me or set eyes on me.”
“What can you do? I may take you in service.”
“I am a very good messenger. My name is Foot-on-Shoulder.”
“I will give you five gold pieces.”
“I will go with you,” said the other.
The ship moved on now, and never stopped till within one mile of Donegal they saw, at a place called Kilemard, a man lying in a grass field with his cheek to the earth.
“What are you doing there?” asked the red man.
“Holding my ear to the ground, and hearing the grass grow.”