“Where is he to be found?” asked Art.
“If ’twas in the east he was, I would direct you to the west; and if ’twas in the west he was, I would send you to the east: but not to harm you would I do this, for thousands of men have gone toward that gruagach, and not a man of them has ever come back.”
“Your opinion of me is not very high. I must follow my nose and find the road.”
Next morning Art took farewell of the king, and went his way travelling to know could he find the gruagach. At that time gruagachs and heroes lived in old castles. Art inquired and inquired till he heard where the gruagach lived.
At last he came to the castle, and shouted outside; but if he did it was no use for him, he got no answer. Art walked in, found the gruagach on the flat of his back, fast asleep and snoring. The gruagach had a sword in his hand. Art caught the sword, but could not stir it from the grasp of the gruagach.
“’Tis hard to say,” thought he, “that I could master you awake, if I can do nothing to you in your slumber; but it would be a shame to strike a sleeping man.”
He hit the gruagach with the flat of his sword below the knee, and woke him. The gruagach opened his eyes, sat up, and said, “It would be fitter for you to be herding cows and horses than to be coming to this place to vex me.”
“I am not here to give excuse or satisfaction to you,” said Art, “but to knock satisfaction out of your flesh, bones, and legs, and I’ll take the head off you if I can.”
“It seems, young man, that it is a princess you want; and she will not marry you without my head.”
“That is the truth.”