The night began to grow very dark, and thick flakes of snow fell softly over everything, while now and again a little, shrill wind sounded weirdly through the leafless branches of the trees. Fionn and his men were very tired, and the bitter cold and storm robbed them of all their energy and strength. They longed earnestly for a house where they could rest and stretch their limbs in warm comfort before a blazing fire.
"Go, Caeilté," said Fionn, "and see if there is any house near where we can find protection from this night's tempest."
Though Caeilté was weary and numb with cold, he willingly obeyed his chief's command, and hurried away as quickly as he could down the road leading to the southward of the mountain, and there, in a curve of the hillside, he saw a great house, with bright shafts of light streaming from its windows and wide-open door across the snowy ground. For some time he stood looking at it, wondering whether he should go and inquire of the owner if he would give hospitality to Fionn and his Fians, or whether he should go back to Fionn and
