him, and it is what he said:  “By my oath, Fergus,” he said, “all you are saying is true, for there is not a son of a king or of a lord is better in the battle than Duban, son of Cas; and I will go to my own death if I do not go beyond him.”  With that he went rushing through the battle like flames over a high hill that is thick with furze.  Nine times he made a round of the battle, and he killed nine times nine in every round.

“Who is best in the battle now?” said Finn, after a while.  “It is Duban Donn that is after going from us,” said Fergus.  “For there has been no one ahead of him since he was in his seventh year, and there is no one ahead of him now.”  “Rise up and praise him that his courage may be the greater,” said Finn.  “It is right to praise him,” said Fergus, “and the foreigners running before him on every side as they would run from a heavy drenching of the sea.”  So Fergus praised him for a while, and he went back then to Finn.

“Who is best in the battle now?” said Finn.  “It is Osgar is best in it now,” said Fergus, “and he is fighting alone against two hundred Franks and two hundred of the men of Gairian, and the King of the Men of Gairian himself.  And all these are beating at his shield,” he said, “and not one of them has given him a wound but he gave him a wound back for it.”  “What way is Caoilte, son of Ronan?” said Finn.  “He is in no great strait after the red slaughter he has made,” said Fergus.  “Go to him then,” said Finn, “and bid him to keep off a share of the foreigners from Osgar.”  So Fergus went to him.  “Caoilte,” he said, “it is great danger your friend Osgar is in under the blows of the foreigners, and let you rise up and give him some help,” he said.

Caoilte went then to the place where Osgar was, and he gave a straight blow of his sword at the man who was nearest him, that made two halves of him.  Osgar raised his head then and looked at him.  “It is likely, Caoilte,” he said, “you did not dare redden your sword on any one till you struck down a man that was before my sword.  And it is a shame for you,” he said, “all the men of the great world and the Fianna of Ireland to be in the one battle, and you not able to make out a fight for yourself without coming to take a share of my share of the battle.  And I give my oath,” he said, “I would be glad to see you put down in your bed of blood on account of that thing.”  Caoilte’s mind changed when he heard that, and he turned again to the army of the foreigners with the redness of anger on his white face; and eighty fighting men fell in that rout.

“What way is the battle now?” said Finn.  “It is a pity,” said Fergus, “there never came and there never will come any one that can tell the way it is now.  For by my word,” he said, “the tree-tops of the thickest forest in the whole of the western world are not closer together than the armies are now.  For the bosses of their shields are in one another’s hands.  And there is fire coming from the edges of their swords,”