him, and with it the thought that he must hasten and tell the king that henceforth Tara would never again be destroyed by the magician.
He washed his face at the little stream flowing through the forest, and made a scanty breakfast from some nuts and late blackberries he found in a sheltered hollow, then he began to retrace his way to Tara, taking the head of Aillen in a satchel as proof to Conn that he was really dead.
By noon he had come within sight of the rath of Tara, and saw many people moving about on its green rampart. As he drew nearer Conn, with a great number of his warriors, came out and greeted him with joy, asking him many questions concerning the magician.
"He will trouble you no more," said Fionn, "and in proof of that I have brought his head to Tara," and drawing the head by its long black hair out of the bag, he placed it on the ground at the king's feet.
"Indeed throughout Ireland there is none to equal you, son of Cumall," said Conn, "and in the presence of all her kings and champions
