“That is a very good feat,” answered Fin, “but it is not enough yet. Now, Dyeermud, what is your feat of swiftness?”
“If I were put on a space of seven hundred acres, and each acre with a hedge around it, and there were seven hundred gaps in the hedge of each acre, and seven hundred hares were put on each acre of the seven hundred, I would not let one hare out of the seven hundred acres for a day and a year.”
“That is a great feat,” remarked Fin; “that will do.”
“Chew your thumb, O Fin,” said Dyeermud, “and tell me if it is fated to us to come back from the journey?”
Fin chewed his thumb. “You will come back; but the journey will be a hard and a long one: you will be ankle deep in your own blood.”
Dyeermud went to Faolan, and told him what sentence to put upon Grainne.
On the following day, Fin led Grainne forth for her sentence; and Faolan said, “You are to stand on the top of Sliav Iolar [Mount Eagle], till I come back to Fintra; you are to hold in your hand a fine needle; you are to have no drink saving what rain you can suck through the eye of that needle, no food except what oats will be blown through the eye of that very needle from a sheaf on Sliav Varhin; and Dyeermud will give three blows of a flail to the sheaf to loosen the grain.”
Faolan and Dyeermud set out on their journey. They travelled three days, and saw no house in which they could rest for the night.
“When we find a house,” said Dyeermud, “we will have from the people a lodging, either with their good will, or in spite of them.”