“I am thankful,” said Dyeermud; “but before you can do to me what you threaten, I will do the same to you.”
With that he opened the oven-door, threw in the baker, and burned him to death. Then he caught up as much bread as he could carry, and went to the long house; but, being used to good food, could not eat bread alone, and asked the small chief, “Where can I find drink and meat to go with the bread?”
“There is a slaughter-house behind us, not far from here,” said the chief, “and the head butcher might give you a piece to roast or boil.”
Dyeermud went then to the butcher. “Will you give me meat for supper?” asked he.
“You scoundrel from Erin, if you don’t leave this place I’ll cut off your head on the block here, and separate it from the body.”
“Never have I met better people to oblige a stranger; but before you can do to me what you promise, I will do the like to you.”
So Dyeermud caught the butcher, stretched him across the block, and with the butcher’s own cleaver struck the head off him.
Turning around, Dyeermud saw two fine stalled bullocks dressed for the king’s table. Taking one under each arm, he brought them to the long house, and cut them up with his sword; then the small chief cooked nicely what was needed. The two ate a hearty supper.
Next morning Dyeermud rose up refreshed, and went to the castle, where he struck the pole of combat.
“What is your wish?” asked the king.