miss him. The Wether came forward. The champion of the red belt put the sword through his heart. Said he, when he was falling,—
“I lay on thee the spells of the art of the druid, to be feeble in strength as a woman in travail, in the camp and the battle, till thou goest to meet the king cat of the Western Island. Tell him you have slain three hundred men, and three hundred cats, and the one-legged hag, and the Wether of Fuerish Fwee-erë.”
He went forward in the camp. He met the king cat of the Western Island.
“Death on you! Short is your own life now. Little I thought I was not done with you the day that I put you in the barrel.”
“Hideous hag! I am stronger to-day than I was that day.”
He and the hag struck together, till he made hard of the soft, and soft of the hard, and (made) the fresh-water wells in the middle of the grey stones. From the hollows of the world to the heights of the world they came to look on at the fight was between them.
She had a long tail. There was a poison spot on the tail. There was a great claw at the tip of the tail. She rose on high. She came down on his head. He met her with the sword. She curved her tail and put the claw in his hand. He was bleeding. The day was hot and he was
