head and Innell's withal!
"And yon ogam on its side,
Find, ye druids, in due form,
Who has set it upright there?
What host drove it in the ground?"
(A druid answers:)
"Yon forked pole—with fearful strength—
Which thou seest, Fergus, there,
One man cut, to welcome us,
With one perfect stroke of sword!
"Pointed it and shouldered it—
Though this was no light exploit—
After that he flung it down,
To uproot for one of you!
"Grenca was its name till now—
All will keep its memory—
Fork-forda be its name for aye,
From the fork that's in the ford!"
After the lay, spake Ailill: "I marvel and wonder, O Fergus, who could have sharpened the fork and slain with such speed the four that had gone out before us." "Fitter it were to marvel and wonder at him who with a single stroke lopped the fork which thou seest, root and top, pointed and charred it and flung it the length of a throw from the hinder part of his chariot, from the tip of a single hand, so that it sank over two-thirds into the ground and that naught save one-third is above; nor was a hole first dug with his sword, but through a grey stone's flag it was thrust, and thus it is geis for the men of Erin to proceed to the bed of this ford till one of ye pull out the fork with the tip of one hand, even as he erewhile drove it down."
"Thou art of our hosts, O Fergus," said Medb; W. 753. 1avert this necessity from us,1 and do thou draw the fork for us from the bed of the ford." "Let a chariot be brought me," cried Fergus, 2"till I draw it out, that it may be seen that its butt is of one hewing."2 And a chariot was brought to Fergus, and Fergus laid hold 3with a truly mighty grip3 on the fork, and he made splinters and *LL. fo. 61a. scraps of the chariot. "Let another chariot be brought me," cried Fergus. 4Another4 chariot was brought to Fergus, and Fergus made a tug at the fork and again made fragments and splinters of the chariot, 5both its box and its yoke and its wheels.5 "Again let a chariot be brought me," cried Fergus. And Fergus exerted his strength on the fork, and made pieces and bits of the chariot. There where the seventeena chariots of the Connachtmen's chariots were, Fergus made pieces and bits of them all, and yet he failed to draw the fork from the bed of the ford. "Come now, let it be, O Fergus," cried Medb; "break our people's chariots no more. For hadst thou not been now engaged on this hosting, 6by this time6 should we have come to Ulster, driving divers spoils and cattle-herds with us. We wot wherefore thou workest all this, to delay and detain the host till the Ulstermen rise from their 'Pains' and offer us battle, the battle of the Táin."
"Bring me a swift chariot," cried Fergus. And his own chariot was brought to Fergus, and Fergus gave a tug at the fork, and nor wheel nor floor nor one of the chariot-poles creaked nor cracked. Even though it was with his strength and prowess that the one had driven it down, with his might and doughtiness the other drew it out—the battle-champion, the gap-breaker of hundreds, the crushing sledge, the stone-of-battle for enemies, the W. 777. head of retainers, the foe of hosts, the hacking of masses, the flaming torch and the leader of mighty combat. He drew it up with the tip of one hand till it reached the slope of his shoulder, and he placed the fork in Ailill's hand. Ailill scanned it; he regarded it near. "The fork, meseems, is all the more perfect," quoth Ailill; "for a single stroke I see on it from butt to top." "Aye, all the more perfect," Fergus replied. And Fergus began to sing praise 1of Cuchulain,1 and he made a lay thereon:—
"Here behold the famous fork,
By which cruel Cuchulain stood.
Here he left, for hurt to all,
Four heads of his border-foes!
"Surely he'd not flee therefrom,
'Fore aught man, how brave or bold.
Though the scathelessa Hound this left,
On its hard rind there is gore!
"To its hurt the host goes east,
Seeking Cualnge's wild Brown bull.
2Warriors' cleaving there shall be,2
'Neath Cuchulain's baneful sword!
"No gain will theirb stout bull be,
For which sharp-armed war will rage;
At the fall of each head's skull
Erin's every tribe shall weep!
"I have nothing to relate
As regards Dechtirè's son.c
Men and women hear the tale
Of this fork, how it came here!"
After this lay: "Let us pitch our booths and tents," said Ailill, "and let us make ready food and drink, and let us sing songs and strike up harps, and let us eat and W. 807. regale ourselves, for, of a truth, never before nor since knew the men of Erin a night of encampment or of entrenchment that held sorer discomfort or distress for them than yester-night. 1Let us give heed to the manner of folk to whom we go and let us hear somewhat of their deeds and famous tales."1
They raised their booths and pitched their tents. They got ready *LL. fo. 61b. their food and drink, and songs were sung and harping intoned by them, and feasting and eating indulged in, 2and they were told of the feats of Cuchulain.2
And Ailill inquired of Fergus: "I marvel and wonder who could
