The Scottish Celtic review

;;; " ";;Thf LaiJ «/ III" Mnirnirtarh. '25:}To remove, unboa.stiug, tlie reproacli,We formed a camp entrenched and strongThe bravest six among our Feinn,Went to fight against the monster.She served out each of" tliem in turn,Like unto a quivering flame,Until there met the brave Mac-CundiallAnd the monster, hand to hand.A fight like this had not been seen,Since the day of Lon Mac-Liobhann's smithy;With dew suffusoil was the lance's pointOf Mac-Cumhall, son of Tuathal.Streams of blood flowed to the ground,Hot mist ascended to the skyMac-Cumhall's side was pierced with wounds.And his blood bedewed the heath.The Muireartach by the king was slain,And if she was, it was no easy slayingSuch a shout was never heard,Since the Feinn's slaughter in one day !The tidings travelled to the North,To many-peopled Lochlann's boundsThe smitli brought with him the purportTo the house of Fothun, the high king." Mischief is done," said the Ocean-smith," The wild red Muireartach is slain ;The king said that not all on earthCould slay the yellow Muireartach." Unless in quagmire she has sunk,Or has been drowned in deep smooth sea,"The smith said, " Where were men on earthTo slay the wild red Muireartach ?" 'Twas not they slew her—but the Feinn,A band who cannot be subduedGreat shame 'tis to the chiefs of FailTo yield to people of one isle."