shield firmly with his left. Then through the darkness came a shaft of flame, blown from the enchanter's mouth, and Fionn raised his shield to catch it. But the shield changed to a four-folded impenetrable mantle—woven from the blue of air, the green of earth, the crimson of fire, and the purple of ocean—which caught the magician's fire-blast and scattered it on every side in showers of sparks which did no evil. Again and again Aillen mac Midna blew his venomous shafts, and each time the mantle diverted them and rendered them harmless. At last Aillen knew that some one, who possessed a greater magic than his, was defending Tara that night, and full of baffled fury he turned and fled.
When Fionn saw that the enchanter was put to flight, he descended from the high bank of the rath and pursued him. Many miles he went, and when he splashed through the rippling waters of the Boyne he was close on the heels of the magician. At length Fionn called out: "O Aillen mac Midna, turn your face to me. Let it not be said that death shamefully overtook you in the back, as you
