Chapter XV.

§ 79. On the morning of the morrow the three heroes, Cuchulainn,
Conall and Loigaire, then set off to Fort Curoi. They unyoked their
chariot at the gate of the hold, then entered the court. Whereupon
Blathnat, Mind’s daughter, wife of Curoi mac Dairi, bade them warm
welcome. That night on their arrival Curoi was not at home. But
knowing they would come, he counselled his wife regarding the heroes
until he should return from his oriental expedition into Scythian
territory. From the age of seven years, when he took up arms, until his
demise, Curoi had not reddened his sword in Erin, nor ever had the
food of Erin passed his lips. Nor could Erin contain him for his
haughtiness, renown and rank, overbearing fury, strength and gallantry.
His wife acted according to his wish in the matter of bathing and of
washing, providing them with refreshing drinks and beds most excellent.
And it liked them well.
§ 80. When bedtime was come, she told them that each was to take
his night watching the fort until Curoi should return. “And, moreover,
thus said Curoi—that ye take your turn watching according to seniority.”
In what airt soever of the globe Curoi should happen to be, every night
o’er the fort he chaunted a spell, till the fort revolved as swiftly as a
mill-stone. The entrance was never to be found after sunset.
§ 81. The first night, Loigaire the Triumphant took the sentry,
inasmuch as he was the eldest of the three. As he kept watch into the
later part of the night, he saw a giant (Scath) approaching him far as his
eyes could see from the sea westwards. Exceeding huge and ugly and
horrible he thought him, for in height, it seemed to him, he reached unto
the sky, and the sheen (broad expanse) of the sea was visible between his
legs. Thus did he come, his hands full of stripped oaks, each of which
would form a burden for a waggon-team of six, at whose root not a
stroke had been repeated after the single sword-stroke. One of the
stakes he cast at Loigaire, who let it pass him. Twice or thrice he
repeated it, but the stake reached neither the skin nor the shield of
Loigaire. Then Loigaire hurled a spear at him and it hit him not.
§ 82. The giant stretched his hand towards Loigaire. Such its length
that it reached across the three ridges that were between them as they
were throwing at each other, and thus in his grasp he seized him.
Though Loigaire was big and imposing, he fitted like a year old into the
clutch of his opponent, who then ground him in his grasp^[19] as a chessman
is turned in a groove. In that state, half-dead, the giant tossed him out
over the fort, till he fell into the mire of the fosse at the palace-gate. The
fort had no opening there, and the other men and inmates of the hold
thought he had leapt outside over the fort, as a challenge for the other
men to do likewise.
§ 83. There they were until the day’s end. When the night-watch
began, Conall went out on sentry, for he was older than Cuchulainn.
Everything occurred as it did to Loigaire the first night. The third night
Cuchulainn went on sentry (lit. into the seat of watch). That night the
three Goblins (Greys) of Sescind Uairbeoil, the three Ox-feeders (?) of
Bregia and the three sons of Big-Fist the Siren met by appointment to
plunder the hold. This too was the night of which it was foretold, that
the Spirit of the Lake by the fort would devour the whole host of the
hold, man and beast.
§ 84. Cuchulainn while watching through the night had many uneasy
forebodings. When midnight was come he heard a terrific noise drawing
nigh to him. “Holloa, Holloa, Cuchulainn shouted, “who is there? If
friends they be, let them not stir; if foes, let them flee.” Then they raised
a terrific shout at him. Whereupon Cuchulainn sprang upon them, so that
the nine of them fell dead to the earth. He heaped their heads in
disorder into the seat of watching and resumed sentry. Another nine
shouted at him. In like manner he killed the three nines, making one
cairn of them, heads and accoutrements.
§ 85. While he was there far on into the night, tired and sad and
weary, he heard the rising of the loch on high, as it were the booming of
a very heavy sea. How deep soever his dejection, his spirit could not
brook his not going to see what caused the great noise he heard. He then
perceived the upheaving monster, and it seemed to him to be thirty
cubits in curvature above the loch. It raised itself on high into the air,
sprang towards the fort, opened its mouth so that one of the palaces
could go into its gullet.
§ 86. Then he called to mind his swooping feat, sprang on high, and
was as swift as a winnowing riddle right round the monster. He
entwined his two arms about its neck, stretched his hand till it reached
into its gullet, tore out the monster’s heart, and cast it from him on the
ground. Then the beast fell from the air till it rested on the earth, having
sustained a blow on the shoulder. Cuchulainn then plied it with his
sword, hacked it to atoms, and took the head with him into the
sentry-seat along with the other heap of skulls.
§ 87. While there, depressed and miserable in the morning dawn, he
saw the giant approaching him westwards from the sea. “Bad night,”
says he. “’Twill be worse for you, you uncouth fellow,” quoth
Cuchulainn. Then the giant cast one of the branches at Cuchulainn, who
let it pass him. He repeated it two or three times, but it reached neither
the skin nor the shield of Cuchulainn. Cuchulainn then hurled his spear at
the giant, but it reached him not. Whereupon the giant stretched his hand
towards Cuchulainn to grip him as he did the others. Cuchulainn leapt
the hero’s “salmon leap,” and called to mind his swooping-feat,^[20] with
his drawn sword over the monster’s head. As swift as a hare he was, and
in mid-air circling round the monster, till he confused it by making it
giddy (lit. till he made a water wheel of him). “Life for life, O
Cuchulainn,” he quoth. “Give me my triad of wishes,” quoth Cuchulainn.
At a breath ^[21]
they are thine,” he said.
“The Sovranty of Erin’s Heroes be henceforth mine
The Champion’s Portion without dispute
The Precedence to my wife o’er Ultonia’s ladies forever.”
“It shall be thine, he at once quoth. Then he who had been conversing
with him vanished he knew not whither.
§ 88. He then mused within himself as to the leap his fellows leapt
over the fort, for their leap was big and broad and high. Moreover, it
seemed to him it was by leaping it that the valiant heroes had gone over
it. He essayed it twice and failed. “Alas!” Cuchulainn quoth, “my
exertions hitherto about the Champion’s Portion have exhausted me, and
now I lose it through being unable to take the leap the others took.” As
he thus mused, he essayed the following feats: He would keep springing
backwards in mid-air a shot’s distance from the fort, and then he would
rebound from there until his forehead would strike the fort. Anon he
would spring on high till all that was within the fort was visible to him,
while again he would sink up to his knees in the earth owing to the
pressure of his vehemence and violence. At another time he would not
take the dew from off the tip of the grass by reason of his buoyancy of
mood, vehemence of nature, and heroic valour. What with the fit and
fury that raged upon him he stepped over the fort outside and alighted
in the middle at the door of the palace. His two footprints are in the flag
on the floor of the hold at the spot where was the royal entrance. He
thereafter entered the house and heaved a sigh.
§ 89. Then Mind’s daughter, Blâthnat, wife of Curoi, made speech:
“Truly, not the sigh of one dishonoured, but a victor’s sigh of triumph.”
The daughter of the king of the Isle of the Men of Falga knew full well of
Cuchulainn’s evil plight that night. They were not long there when they
beheld Curoi coming towards them, carrying into the house with him the
standard of the “three nines” slain by Cuchulainn, along with their heads
and that of the monster. He put the heads from off his breast on to the
floor of the stead, and spoke: “The gillie whose one night’s trophies are
these is a fit lad to watch a king’s keep for aye. The Champion’s Portion,
over which you have fallen out with the gallant youths of Erin, truly
belongs to Cuchulainn. The bravest of them, were he here, could not
match him in number of trophies.” Curoi’s verdict upon them was:
“The Champion’s Portion to be Cuchulainn’s.
With the sovranty of valour o’er all the Gael.
And to his wife the precedence on entering the Mead Hall before all
the ladies of Ultonia.”
And seven cumals ^[22]of gold and of silver he gave him in reward for
his one night’s performance.
§ 90. They straightway bade Curoi farewell and kept on till they gat
seated in Emain ere the day closed. When the spencers came to deal and
to divide, they took the Champion’s Portion with its share of ale out of
the distribution that they might have it apart. “Sooth, sure are we,”
quoth Duach of the Chafer Tongue, “ye think not to-night of contending
as to the Champion’s Portion? The man ye sought out mayhap has
undertaken your adjudging.” Whereupon quoth the other folk to
Cuchulainn: “The Champion’s Portion was not assigned to one of you in
preference to the other. As to Curoi’s judgment also upon those three,
not a whit did he concede to Cuchulainn upon their arriving at Emain.”
Cuchulainn then declared he by no means coveted the winning of it. For
the loss thence resulting to the winner would be on a par with the profit
got from it. The championship was therefore not fully assigned until the
advent of the Champion’s Covenant in Emain.