On the Alps was a woman seen straying, and herding the flocks of the sheep, “Let our warriors behind be delaying,” said Conall, “and south let us keep: 

’Twere well we should speak with yon woman, perchance she hath wisdom to teach!” And with Conall went Fraech at that counsel; they neared her, and held with her speech.

“Whence have come you?” she said:  “Out of Ireland are we,” Answered Conall:  “Ill luck shall for Irishmen be In this country,” she cried, “yet thy help I would win; From thy land was my mother; thou art to me kin!”

“Of this land we know naught, nor where next we should turn,”
Answered Conall.; “its nature from thee we would learn.” 
“’Tis a grim land and hateful,” the woman replied,
“And the warriors are restless who forth from it ride;
For full often of captives, of women and herd
Of fair kine by them taken is brought to me word.”

“Canst thou say what latest spoil,” said Fraech, “they won?”
“Ay,” she said, “they harried Fraech, of Idath[FN#36] son
He in Erin dwelleth, near the western sea;
Kine from him they carried, wife, and children three
Here his wife abideth, there where dwells the king,
Turn, and see his cattle, yonder pasturing.”

[FN#36] Pronounced Eeda.

Out spoke Conall Cernach;[FN#37] “Aid us thou” he cried: 
“Strength I lack,” she answered, “I can only guide.” 
“Here is Fraech,” said Conall, “yon his stolen cows”: 
“Fraech!” she asked him, “tell me, canst thou trust thy spouse?”
“Why,” said Fraech, “though trusty, doubtless, when she went;
Now, since here she bideth, truth may well be spent.” 
“See ye now yon woman?” said she, “with your herd,
Tell to her your errand, let her hear your word;
Trust in her, as Irish-sprung ye well may place;
More if ye would ask me, Ulster reared her race.”

[FN#37] Pronounced Cayr-nach.

To that woman they went, nor their names from her hid;
And they greeted her; welcome in kindness she bid: 
“What hath moved you,” she said, “from your country to go?”
“On this journey,” said Conall, “our guide hath been woe: 
All the cattle that feed in these pastures are ours,
And from us went the lady that’s kept in yon towers.” 
“’Tis ill-luck,” said the woman, “that waits on your way,
All the men of this hold doth that lady obey;
Ye shall find, amid dangers, your danger most great
In the serpent who guardeth the Liss at the gate.”

“For that lady,” said Fraech, “she is none of my
She is fickle, no trust from me yet did she win: 
But on thee we rely, thou art trusty, we know;
Never yet to an Ulsterman Ulster was foe.”

“Is it men out of Ulster,” she said, “I have met?”
“And is Conall,” said Fraech, “thus unknown to you yet? 
Of all heroes from Ulster the battle who faced
Conall Cernach is foremost.”  His neck she embraced,
And she cried, with her arms around Conall:  “Of old
Of the conquering Conall our prophets have told;
And ’tis ruin and doom to this hold that you bring;
For that Conall shall sack it, all prophecies sing.”