The valiant Finn arose next day,
Just as the sun rose above the foam;
And he beheld up the Lairgo way,
A man clad in red with a black dog come.
I’ll tell ye what was the stranger’s mien:
His complexion was that of the strawberrie;
White as the canach was his skin,
Though black his hair, as black could be.
He came up with a lofty gait,
Said not for shelter he sought our doors;
And wanted neither drink nor meat,
But would match his dog ’gainst the best of ours.
We brought ’gainst that of the stranger youth
The very best dogs within our bounds;
But the stranger dog had a desperate tooth,
And quickly despatch’d for us fifty hounds.
A strange fight this, the great Finn said,
As he turn’d his face towards his clan;
Then his face with rage grey fiery red,
And he struck with his fist his good dog Bran.
Bran look’d at his master with much surprise,
That his master should strike him surprise he felt—
“I could hew from the shoulder the hand,” Finn cries,
“With which my dog that blow I dealt.”
Then Bran he shook his collar of gold,
The mountains echoed with his bay;
His terrible eyes like fire-balls roll’d,
And his mind was bent upon canine fray.
“Take off from his neck the collar of gold,
Not right for him now such a thing to bear;
And a free good fight we shall behold
Betwixt my dog and his black compeer.”
Now a likeness I’ll draw of my good dog Bran:
His head was cover’d with shaggy hair,
His breast was broad and its colour tan,
His houghs were crook’d, his quarters square.
Four yellow feet had he I ween,
His sides were black but his belly fair;
A tinge of green on his back was seen,
Of blood-red ears he’d a pointed pair.