looked at him for a moment, then rested its head on his shoulder.
But Oisin and Caeilté, who were very proud of their own horses, that were swift as the wind that blew from the Island of Youth and swept down from the mountain heights, doubted whether the black horse would prove himself swifter than theirs. So Fionn said:
"Come now with me to the sands of Berramain on the western coast, and we will race our horses against each other, and decide which is the best."
The Fians went quickly through the woods and plains and over the mountain passes till they came to the strand, and Black Flame won all the races which were run, and at the close still remained untired. Afterwards the Fians broke up into small parties and went hunting in different directions. But Fionn and Caeilté and Oisin proceeded southwards, galloping onwards on their tireless horses, until they were many miles distant from their comrades. Finally they reached a valley near Loch Lein, dark withyew trees and encircled by high mountains. The night was falling,
