One day as Fin was walking near the water at Fintra, he met a strange creature,—a woman to the waist, from the waist a fish. The human half was like an old hag. When Fin stopped before her, he greeted the hag. She returned the greeting, and asked him to play chess for a sentence.
“I would,” answered Fin, “if I had my own board and chessmen.”
“I have a good board,” said the fish-hag.
“If you have,” said Fin, “we will play; but if you win the first game, I must go for my own board, and you will play the second on that.”
The hag consented. They played on her chessboard, and the hag won that game.
“Well,” said Fin, “I must go for my own board, and do you wait till I bring it.”
“I will,” said the fish-hag.
Fin brought his own board; and they played, and he won.
“Now,” said Fin, “pass your sentence on me, since you won the first game.”
“I will,” said the hag; “and I place you under sentence of weighty druidic spells not to eat two meals off the one table, nor to sleep two nights in the one bed, nor to pass out by the door through which you came in, till you bring me the head of the Red Ox, and an account of what took the eye from the Doleful Knight of the Island, and how he lost speech and laughter. Now pass sentence on me.”