We soothed him and used him gently for a time, hoping he might speak at last; but to no purpose, for he still kept silent. Then at last growing impatient, and thinking that this might be a mere headstrong humour, we drew our swords, and threatened him with instant death if he did not at once tell us all he knew of the chief and his hounds—for we felt sure he had seen them. But he only lamented the more, and still answered nothing.
At last, after this had gone on for some time, and when we were about to leave him, he beckoned to Kylta Mac Ronan; and when Kylta had come near, the old man whispered into his ear the dreadful secret. And then we all came to know the truth. When we found that the withered old man was no other than our beloved king, Finn, himself, we uttered three shouts of lamentation and anger, so loud and prolonged that the foxes and badgers rushed affrighted from their dens in the hollows of the mountain.
Conan now stepped forward, looking very fierce; and, unsheathing his sword with mighty bluster, he began in a loud voice to revile Finn and the Fena with the foulest language he could think of. And he ended by saying that he meant to slay the king that moment—
"Now, O Finn Mac Cumal, I will certainly strike off your head; for you are the man that never gave me credit for valour, or praised my noble deeds in battle. Ever since your father, Cumal of the Hosts, was slain on the field of Knocka[CXLIII.] by the Clann Morna[23] of the Golden Shields, you have been our bitter foe; and it is against your will that any of us are now alive. I am very glad to see you, Finn Mac Cumal, brought down to what you now are; and I only wish that the rest of the Clann Baskin[23] were like you. Then should I very soon make short work of them all; and joyful to me would be the task of raising a great carn to their memory!"
To which Oscar replied with great scorn, "It is not worth while drawing a sword to punish thee, Conan Mail, vain and foolish boaster as thou art; and besides, we have at present something else to think of. But if it were not for the trouble that now lies heavy on us on account of our king, I would of a certainty chastise thee by breaking all the bones of thy mouth with my fist!"
"Cease, Oscar," returned Conan, in a voice still louder than before; "cease your foolish talk! It is actions and not words that prove a man; and as to the noble warlike deeds done in past times by the Fena, it was by the Clann Morna they were performed, and not by the chicken-hearted Clann Baskin!"
The fiery Oscar could bear this no longer. He rushed towards Conan Mail; but Conan, terrified at his vengeful look, ran in amongst the Fena with great outcry, beseeching them to save him from the rage of Oscar. We straightway confronted the young hero, and checked him in his headlong career; and after much ado, we soothed his anger and made peace between him and Conan.
When quietness was restored, Kylta asked Finn how this dread evil had befallen him, who was the enchanter, and whether there was any hope of restoring him to his own shape. Finn told him that it was the daughter of Culand the smith who had transformed him by her spells. And then he recounted how she had lured him to swim in the lake, and how, when he came forth, he was turned into a withered old man.
We now made a framework litter of slender poles, and, placing our king on it, we lifted him tenderly on our shoulders. And, turning from the lake, we marched slowly up-hill till we came to the fairy palace of Slieve Cullinn, where we knew the daughter of Culand had her dwelling deep under ground.[19] Here we set him down, and the whole troop began at once to dig, determined to find the enchantress in her cave-palace, and to take vengeance on her if she did not restore our chief.