“Well, mother,” said he, “it is the luck we have now; and we’ll have the whole parish under stock from this out.”
The young woman was not satisfied yet, and said, “You must go and carry a token to my father and mother.”
“Wait awhile, and be quiet,” answered Mor’s son. “Your father will send herders to hunt for the stock, and these men will have token enough when they come.”
Well, sure enough, the king’s men hunted over hills and valleys, found that the cattle had been one day in such a place and another day in another place; and they followed on till at length and at last they came near Mor’s house, and there they saw the cattle grazing above on the mountain.
There was no house in Dun Quin at that time but Mor’s house, and there was not another in it for many a year after.
“We will send a man down to that house,” said the herders, “to know can we get any account of what great champion it was that brought the cattle all this distance.”
What did the man see when he came near the house but his own king’s daughter. He knew the young woman, and was struck dumb when he saw her, and she buried two months before at her father’s castle in Mayo. He had no power to say a word, he forgot where he was, or why he was sent. At last he turned, ran up to the men above on the mountain, and said, “The king’s daughter is living below in that house.”
The herders would not believe a word he said, but at last three other men went down to see for themselves. They knew the king’s daughter, and were frightened; but they had more courage, and after a while asked, “Where is the man that brought the cattle?”
“He is sleeping,” said the king’s daughter. “He is tired after the long journey; if you wish, I will wake him.”
She woke Mor’s son, and he came out.