“The herder said, as he drove the cattle away, ‘Your mother gave too much fire to the meat and the loaf; still you are stronger to-night than you were last night.’ Well, mother, if you gave too much fire to my dinner last night, give but little to-night, and I will leave my life outside or have the cattle home with me this time. If I do not beat him, he may have the wheat as well as the cattle after to-night.”
Mor prepared the dinner; and this time she barely let the water on the meat begin to bubble, and to the bread she gave but one roast.
He ate and drank twice as much as the day before. The dinner gave him such strength that he said, “I’ll bring the cattle to-night.”
He went to the field, and soon after midnight it was full of cattle of the same beautiful colors; the grain was spoiled altogether. He drove the cattle to the road, and thought he had them. He got no sight of the herder till every beast was outside the field, and he ready to drive them home to his mother. Then the herder stood before him, and began to drive the cattle toward the sea.
“You’ll not take them this time,” said Mor’s son.
“I will,” said the herder.
They began to fight, caught each other, dragged, and struggled long, and in the heel of the battle Mor’s son was getting the better of the herder.
“I think that you’ll have the upper hand of me this time,” said the herder; “and ’tis my own advice I blame for it. You’ll take the cattle to-night in spite of me. Let me go now, and take them away with you.”
“I will,” said Mor’s son. “I will take them to the house, and please my mother.”