stopped him when he mentioned the fort of the sons of Nechtan, asking eagerly:
'Are those Nechtan's sons of whom men say that they have slain more men of Ulster than are now alive?'
'They are.'
'Then drive to the fort.'
On a green in front of the fort was a stone pillar, with an inscription saying that no man entering the green might leave it without challenging one of the men of the fort. After reading this Cohoolin put his arms round the stone and loosened it and heaved it into the water close by. 'It is no better there than where it was,' said Jubar. But Cohoolin bade him spread out the chariot coverings for a bed, and he threw himself down and slept.
As Jubar expected, one of the men of the fort came out—Foill, the son of Nechtan.
'Whose horses are these?' he asked.
'Conachoor's piebalds.'
'So I thought. Who brought them to these borders?'
'A slip of a boy who has taken arms this day and is showing what he can do.'
'Bad luck to him, and if he was fit for battle he should never go back alive.'
'But he is not fit, he is a boy,' said Jubar in kindness.
At this Cohoolin leapt to his feet with a blush and said:
'I am fit for battle.'
'I do not think so,' sneered Foill.
'Then thou shalt learn the truth. Go fetch thy weapons. I do not slay charioteers, messengers, or people of that sort, or those without weapons.' While Foill ran to arm himself Jubar told Cohoolin that this
