"The gods be praised!" said the man who was in the branch above the king.
"What for this time?" said the king.
"Because that dog cannot climb a tree," said the man.
And the man on a branch yet above him groaned out, "Amen!"
"There is nothing to frighten sheep like a dog," said Manannán, "and there is nothing to frighten these sheep like this dog."
He put the dog on the ground then.
"Little dogeen, little treasure," said he, "go and kill the sheep."
And when he said that the dog put an addition and an addendum on to the noise he had been making before, so that the men of Ireland stuck their fingers into their ears and turned the whites of their eyes upwards, and nearly fell off their branches with the fear and the fright which that sound put into them.
It did not take the dog long to do what he had been ordered. He went forward, at first, with a slow waddle, and as the venomous sheep came to meet him in bounces, he then went to meet them in wriggles; so that in a while he went so fast that you could see nothing of him but a head and a wriggle. He dealt with the sheep in this way, a jump and a chop for each, and he never missed his jump and he never missed his chop. When he got his grip he swung round on it as if it was a hinge. The swing began with the chop, and it ended with the bit loose and the sheep giving its last kick. At the end of ten minutes all the sheep were lying on the ground, and the same bit was out of every sheep, and every sheep was dead.
"You can come down now," said Manannán.
