He drove the cattle home, and said to his mother, “I have the cattle here now for you, and do whatever you wish with them.”
The herder followed Mor’s son to the house.
“Why did you destroy all my grain with your cattle?” asked Mor.
“Let the cattle go with me now, and I promise that after to-night your field of wheat will be the best in the country.”
“What are we to do?” asked Mor of the son. “Is it to let the cattle go with him for the promise he gives?”
“I will do what you say, mother.”
“We will give him the cattle,” said Mor.
“Well,” said the son to the herder, “my mother is going to give you the cattle for the promise that our grain will be the best in the country when ’tis reaped. We ought to be friends after the fighting; and now take your cattle home with you, though you vexed and hurt me badly.”
“I am very grateful to you,” said the herder to Mor’s son, “and for your kindness you will have plenty of cattle and plenty of wheat before you die, and seeing that you are such a good man I will give you a chance before I leave you. The King of Mayo has an only daughter; the fairies will take her from him to-morrow. They will bring her through Daingean, on the shoulders of four men, to the fairy fort at Cnoc na Hown. Be at the cross-roads about two o’clock to-morrow night. Jump up quickly, put your shoulder under the coffin, the four men will disappear and leave the coffin on the road; do you bring what’s in the coffin home with you.”