"I am Derdri of the Black Mountain, the errand-woman of Finn the son of Cumal," she replied; "and he has sent me hither to look for you."
And they said, "We know not who made this slaughter; but we can tell thee his appearance, for that we know well. He was a tall warrior, with a fair, handsome, open countenance, and jet-black, curly hair. He has been three days fighting against us; and what grieves us even more than the slaughter of our men is that our three chiefs lie here bound by him so firmly that we are not able to loose them from their bonds."
"Alas, friends!" said Derdri; "you have sped but badly at the very beginning of your quest; for this man was Dermat O'Dyna himself. And now loose your three venomous dogs on his track without delay; and I will return and send Finn to meet you."
Then they brought forth the three hounds, and loosed them on the track of Dermat; and leaving one of their druids to attend to the three fettered chiefs, they followed the hounds till they came to the cave, where they found the soft, rushy bed of Dermat and Grania. From that they fared east, and crossing the Carra, and the Grey Moor of Finnlia, and the Laune, they reached at length the broad, heathy Slieve Lougher.
As Dermat sat by the mountain stream with Grania and Modan, looking westward, he saw the silken banners of the foreigners at a distance as they approached the hill. In front of all marched three warriors with mantles of green, who held the three fierce hounds by three chains. And Dermat, when he saw the hounds, was filled with loathing and hatred of them. Then Modan lifted Grania, and walked a mile with Dermat up the stream into the heart of the mountain.
When the green-clad warriors saw them, they loosed one of the three hounds; and when Grania heard his hoarse yelps down the valley, she was in great dread. But Modan bade her not fear, for that he would deal with this hound; and then, turning round, he drew forth from beneath his girdle a small hound-whelp, and placed it on the palm of his hand. There it stood till the great hound came up raging, with jaws wide open; when the little whelp leaped from Modan's hand down the dog's throat, and broke his heart, so that he fell dead. And after that the whelp leaped back again on Modan's hand; and Modan put him under his girdle.
Then they walked another mile up the stream through the mountain, Modan bringing Grania. But the second hound was loosed, and soon overtook them; and Dermat said—
"I will try the Ga-derg on this hound. For no spell can guard against the magic spear of Angus of the Bruga; and I have heard it said also that there is no charm that can shield the throat of an animal from being wounded."
Then, while Modan and Grania stood to look, Dermat, putting his finger into the silken loop of the spear, threw a cast, and drove the spear-head down the hound's throat, so that the entrails of the brute were scattered about; and Dermat, leaping forward, drew the spear, and followed Modan and Grania.
After they had walked yet another mile, the third hound was loosed; and Grania, seeing him coming on, said, trembling—