When the boats reached land, then was Mac cecht a-striking fire in Da
Derga's Hostel. At the sound of the spark the thrice fifty boats were
hurled out, so that they were on the shoulders of the sea.
"Be silent a while!" said Ingcel. "Liken thou that, O Fer rogain."
"I know not," answers Fer rogain, "unless it is Luchdonn the satirist in
Emain Macha, who makes this hand-smiting when his food is taken from him
perforce: or the scream of Luchdonn in Temair Luachra: or Mac cecht's
striking a spark, when he kindles a fire before a king of Erin where he
sleeps. Every spark and every shower which his fire would let fall on
the floor would broil a hundred calves and two half-pigs."
"May God not bring that man (even Conaire) there to-night!" say Donn
Desa's sons. "Sad that he is under the hurt of foes!"
"Meseems," says Ingcel, "it should be no sadder for me than the
destruction I gave you. This were my feast that Conaire should chance to
come there."
Their fleet is steered to land.
Pages:
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187