CHAPTER VII
"I used to live," he said, "in a wide, beautiful place. There were hills and valleys there, and woods and streams, but in whatever direction I went I came always to a cliff, so tall it seemed to lean against the sky, and so straight that even a goat would not have imagined to climb it."
"I do not know of any such place," Fionn mused.
"There is no such place in Ireland," said Caelte, "but in the Shí there is such a place."
"There is in truth," said Fionn.
"I used to eat fruits and roots in the summer," the boy continued, "but in the winter food was left for me in a cave."
"Was there no one with you?" Fionn asked.
"No one, but a deer that loved me, and that I loved."
"Ah me!" cried Fionn in anguish, "tell me your tale, my son."
"A dark stern man came often after us, and he used to speak with the deer. Sometimes he talked gently and softly and coaxingly, but at times again he would shout loudly and in a harsh, angry voice. But whatever way he talked the deer would draw away from him in dread, and he always left her at last furiously."
"It is the Dark Magician of the Men of God," cried Fionn despairingly.
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