CHAPTER VI
It would be hard to tell of the terror that was in Fionn's breast and in the hearts of the Fianna while they attended the conclusion of that race.
They discussed it unendingly, and at some moment of the day a man upbraided Fionn because he had not found Caelte the son of Ronán as had been agreed on.
"There is no one can run like Caelte," one man averred.
"He covers the ground," said another.
"He is light as a feather."
"Swift as a stag."
"Lunged like a bull."
"Legged like a wolf."
"He runs!"
These things were said to Fionn, and Fionn said these things to himself.
With every passing minute a drop of lead thumped down into every heart, and a pang of despair stabbed up to every brain.
"Go," said Fionn to a hawk-eyed man, "go to the top of this hill and watch for the coming of the racers." And he sent lithe men with him so that they might run back in endless succession with the news.
The messengers began to run through his tent at minute
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