and Druids to the offering.  Fleeing still westwards from the Yellow Ford, they passed between the lakes of Owel and Ennel, with the men of Ulad still hot in their rear.  Thus came pursued and pursuers to Gairec, close by Athlone—­the Ford of Luan—­and the wooded shore of the great Lough Ree.  There was fought a battle hardly less fatal to victors than to vanquished, for though the hosts of Meave were routed, yet Concobar’s men could not continue the pursuit.  Thus Meave escaped and Fergus with her, and came to their great fort on the green hillside of Cruacan amid the headwaters of the Shannon.

The victory of Concobar’s men was like a defeat.  There was not food that pleased him, nor did sleep come to him by flight, so that the Ulad wondered, and Catbad the right-wonderful Druid, himself a warrior who had taught Concobar and reared him, went to Concobar to learn the secret of his trouble.  Therefore Catbad asked of Concobar what wound had wounded him, what obstinate sickness had come upon him, making him faint and pale, day after day.

“Great reason have I for it,” answered Concobar, “for the four great provinces of Erin have come against me, bringing with them their bards and singers, that their ravages and devastations might be recorded, and they have burned our fortresses and dwellings, and Ailill and Meave have gained a battle against me.  Therefore I would be avenged upon Meave the queen.”

“Thou hast already avenged it sternly, O Red-handed Concobar,” Catbad made answer, “by winning the battle over the four provinces of Erin.”

“That is no battle,” Concobar answered, “where a strong king falls not by hard fighting and by fury.  That an army should escape from a goodly battle!  Unless Ailill should fall, and Meave, by me in this encounter with valorous hosts, I tell you that my heart will break, O Catbad!”

“This is my counsel for thee,” replied Catbad, “to stay for the present.  For the winds are rough, and the roads are foul, and the streams and the rivers are in flood, and the hands of the warriors are busy making forts and strongholds among strangers.  So wait till the summer days come upon us, till every grassy sod is a pillow, till our horses are full of spirit and our colts are strong, till our men are whole of their wounds and hurts, till the nights are short to watch and to ward and to guard in the land of enemies and in the territories of strangers.  Spring is not the time for an invasion.  But meanwhile let tidings be sent to thy friends in absence, in the islands and throughout the northern seas.”

Therefore messengers were sent with the tidings, and the friends in absence of Concobar were summoned.  They set forth with ships from the islands of the northern seas, and came forward with the tide to the Cantyre headland.  The green surges of the tremendous sea rose about them, and a mighty storm rose against them.  Such was the strength of the storm that the fleet was parted in three.  A third of them,