They left, but the two older ones did not wish to have the younger one with them, and they tied her to a stone. They held on, and when they looked behind them, whom did they see coming but her with the rock on her back. They let her alone for a while until they reached a stack of peats, and they tied her to the peat-stack. They held on for a while, when whom did they see coming but her with the stack of peats on her back. They let her alone for a while until they reached a tree, and they tied her to the tree. They held on, and whom did they see coming but her with the tree on her back. They saw that there was no use in meddling with her. They loosed her, and they let her come with them. They were travelling until night overtook them. They saw a light far from them, and if it was far from them they were not long reaching it. They went in. What was this but the house of a giant. They asked to remain overnight. They got that, and they were set to bed with the three daughters of the giant.
Bha caran de chneapan òmbair mu mhuinealan nigheanan an fhamhair, agus sreangan gaosaid mu’m muinealan-san. Choidil iad air fad, ach cha do choidil Maol a’ chliobain. Feadh na h-oidhche thàinig pathadh air an fhamhar. Ghlaodh e r’a ghille maol carrach uisge ’thoirt d’a ionnsuidh. Thubhairt an gille maol carrach nach robh deur a stigh. “Marbh, ars’ esan, té de na nigheanan coimheach, ’us thoir a’m ionnsuidhse a fuil.” “Ciamar a dh’ aithuicheas mi eatorra?” ars’ an gille maol carrach. “Tha caran de chneapan mu mhuinealan mo nigheanan-sa, agus caran gaosaid mu mhuinealan chàich.” Chuala Maol a chliobain am famhar, ’us cho clis ’s a b’urrainn i, chuir i na sreanganan gaosaid a bha m’a muineal féin agus mu mhuinealan a peathraichean mu mhuinealan nigheanan an fhamhair, agus na cneapan a bha mu mhuinealan nigheanan an fhamhair m’a muineal féin agus mu mhuinealan a peathraichean, ’us luidh i sios gu samhach. Thàinig an gille maol carrach, ’us mharbh e té de nigheanan an fhamhair, ’us thug e an fhuil d’a ionnsuidh. Dh’iarr e tuilleadh a thoirt d’a ionnsuidh. Mharbh e an ath thé. Dh’iarr e tuilleadh ’us mharbh e an treas té. Dhùisg Maol a’ chliobain a’ peathraichean, ’us thug i air a muin iad, ’us ghabh i air falbh. Mhothaich am famhar dith ’us lean e i.
Na spreadan teine a bha ise ’cur as na clachan le a sàiltean, bha iad a’ bualadh an fhamhair ’s an smigead; agus na spreadan teine a bha am famhar ’toirt as na clachan le barraibh a chos, bha iad a’ bualadh Mhaol a’ chliobain an cùl a’ chinn. Is e so ’bu dual doibh gus an d’ràinig iad amhainn. Leum Maol a’ chliobain an amhainn ’us cha b’urrainn am famhar an amhainn a leum. “Tha thu thall, a Mhaol a’ chliobain.” “Tha, ma’s oil leat.” “Mharbh thu mo thrì nigheanan maola, ruagha.” “Mharbh, ma ’s oil leat.” “’Us c’uine thig thu ris?” “Thig, ’n uair bheir mo ghnothuch ann mi.”
There were turns of amber beads around the necks of the giant’s daughters, and strings of hair around their necks. They all slept, but Maol a chliobain kept awake. During the night the giant got thirsty. He called to his bald rough-skinned lad to bring him water. The bald rough-skinned lad said that there was not a drop within. “Kill,” said he, “one of the strange girls, and bring me her blood.” “How will I know them?” said the bald rough-skinned lad. “There are turns of beads about the necks of my daughters, and turns of hair about the necks of the rest.” Maol a chliobain heard the giant, and as quickly as she could she put the strings of hair that were about her own neck and the necks of her sisters about the necks of the giant’s daughters, and the beads that were about the necks of the giant’s daughters about her own neck and the necks of her sisters, and laid herself quietly down. The bald rough-skinned lad came and killed one of the daughters of the giant, and brought him her blood. He bade him bring him more. He killed the second one. He bade him bring him more, and he killed the third. Maol a chliobain wakened her sisters, and she took them on her back and went away. The giant observed her, and he followed her.
The sparks of fire which she was driving out of the stones with her heels were striking the giant in the chin, and the sparks of fire that the giant was taking out of the stones with the points of his feet, they were striking Maol a chliobain in the back of her head. It was thus with them until they reached a river. Maol a chliobain leaped the river, and the giant could not leap the river. “You are over, Maol a chliobain.” “Yes, if it vex you.” “You killed my three bald red-skinned daughters.” “Yes, if it vex you.” “And when will you come again?” “I will come when my business brings me.”
Ghabh iad air an aghaidh gus an d’ràinig iad tigh tuathanaich. Bha aig an tuathanach tri mic. Dh’innis iad mar a thachair dhoibh. Ars’ an tuatha ach ri Maol a’chliobain, “Bheir mi mo mhac a’s sine do’d phiuthair a’s sine, ’us faigh dhomh cìr mhìn òir, ’us cìr gharbh airgid, a th’aig an fhamhar.” “Cha chosd e tuilleadh dhuit,” ars’ Maol a’ chliobain. Dh’fhalbh i ’us ràinig i tigh an fhamhair. Fhuair i stigh gun fhios. Thug i leatha na cìrean ’us dhalbh i mach. Mhothaich am famhar dhìth; ’us as a deigh a bha e gus an d’ràinig e an amhainn. Leum ise an amhainn ’us cha b’urrainn am famhar an amhainn a leum. “Tha thu thall, a Mhaol a’ chliobain.” “Tha, ma ’s oil leat.” “Mharbh, thu mo thrì nigheanan maola, ruagha.” “Mharbh, ma ’s oil leat.” “Ghoid thu mo chìr mhìn òir, ’us mo chìr gharbh airgid.” “Ghoid, ma ’s oil leat.” “C’ uine thig thu rìs?” “Thig, ’n uair bheir mo ghnothuch ann mi.”
Thug i na cìrean thun an tuathanaich, ’us phòs a piuthair mhòr-sa mac mòr an tuathanaich.
“Bheir mi mo mhac meadhonach do’d phiuthair mheadhonaich, ’us faigh dhomh claidheamh soluis an fhamhair.” “Cha chosd e tuilleadh dhuit,” ars’ Maol a’ chliobain. Ghabh i air falbh, ’us ràinig i tigh an fhamhair. Chaidh i suas ann an barr craoibhe ’bha os cionn tobair an fhamhair. Anns an oidhche thainig an gille maol carrach, ’us an claidheamh soluis leis, a dh’iarraidh uisge. An uair a chrom e a thogail an uisge, thainig Maol a’ chliobain a nuas, ’us phut i sios ’s an tobar e ’us bhàth i e, ’us thug i leatha an claidheamh soluis. Lean am famhar i gus an d’ràinig i an amhainn. Leum i an amhainn, ’us cha b’urrainn am famhar a leantuinn. “Tha thu thall, a Mhaol a’ chliobain.” “Tha, ma ’s oil leat.” “Mharbh thu mo thrì nigheanan maola, ruadha.” “Mharbh ma ’s oil leat.” “Ghoid thu mo chìr mhìn òir, ’s mo chìr gharbh airgid.” “Ghoid, ma ’s oil leat.” “Mharbh thu mo ghille maol carrach.” “Mharbh ma ’s oil leat.” “Ghoid thu mo chlaidheamh soluis.” “Ghoid, ma ’s oil leat.” “C’uine thig thu rìs.” “Thig, ’n uair bheir mo ghnothuch ann mi.” Ràinig i tigh an tuathanaich leis a’ chlaidheamh sholuis, ’us phòs a piuthair mheadhonach ’us mac meadhonach an tuathanaich.
They went on till they reached a farmer’s house. The farmer had three sons. They told what happened to them. Says the farmer to Maol a chliobain, “I will give my eldest son to your eldest sister, and get for me the smooth golden comb and the rough silver comb that the giant has.” “It won’t cost you more,” said Maol a chliobain. She left and reached the giant’s house. She got in without being seen. She took the combs and hastened out. The giant observed her, and after her he went until they reached the river. She leaped the river, and the giant could not leap the river. “You are over, Maol a chliobain.” “Yes, if it vex you.” “You killed my three bald red-skinned daughters.” “Yes, if it vex you.” “You stole my smooth golden comb and my rough silver comb.” “Yes, if it vex you.” “When will you come again.” “When my business brings me.”
She brought the combs to the farmer, and the big sister married the big son of the farmer.