As they paced along Uct Dealv railed bitterly against the hound, and shook and jerked her chain. Many a sharp cry the hound gave in that journey, many a mild lament.
“Ah, supplanter! Ah, taker of another girl’s sweetheart!” said Uct Dealv fiercely. “How would your lover take it if he could see you now? How would he look if he saw your pointy ears, your long thin snout, your shivering, skinny legs, and your long grey tail. He would not love you now, bad girl!”
“Have you heard of Fergus Fionnliath,” she said again, “the man who does not like dogs?”
Tuiren had indeed heard of him.
“It is to Fergus I shall bring you,” cried Uct Dealv. “He will throw stones at you. You have never had a stone thrown at you. Ah, bad girl! You do not know how a stone sounds as it nips the ear with a whirling buzz, nor how jagged and heavy it feels as it thumps against a skinny leg. Robber! Mortal! Bad girl! You have never been whipped, but you will be whipped now. You shall hear the song of a lash as it curls forward and bites inward and drags backward. You shall dig up old bones stealthily at night, and chew them against famine. You shall whine and squeal at the moon, and shiver in the cold, and you will never take another girl’s sweetheart again.”
And it was in those terms and in that tone that she spoke to Tuiren as they journeyed forward, so that the hound trembled and shrank, and whined pitifully and in despair.
They came to Fergus Fionnliath’s stronghold, and Uct Dealv demanded admittance.
“Leave that dog outside,” said the servant.
“I will not do so,” said the pretended messenger.
“You can come in without the dog, or you can stay out with the dog,” said the surly guardian.
“By my hand,” cried Uct Dealv, “I will come in with this dog, or your master shall answer for it to Fionn.”
At the name of Fionn the servant almost fell out of his standing. He flew to acquaint his master, and Fergus himself came to the great door of the stronghold.
“By my faith,” he cried in amazement, “it is a dog.”
“A dog it is,” growled the glum servant.
“Go you away,” said Fergus to Uct Dealv, “and when you have killed the dog come back to me and I will give you a present.”
“Life and health, my good master, from Fionn, the son of Uail, the son of Baiscne,” said she to Fergus.
“Life and health back to Fionn,” he replied. “Come into the house and give your message, but leave the dog outside, for I don’t like dogs.”
“The dog comes in,” the messenger replied.
“How is that?” cried Fergus angrily.
“Fionn sends you this hound to take care of until he comes for her,” said the messenger.
“I wonder at that,” Fergus growled, “for Fionn knows well that there is not a man in the world has less of a liking for dogs than I have.”
“However that may be, master, I have given Fionn’s message, and here at my heel is the dog. Do you take her or refuse her?”
“If I could refuse anything to Fionn it would be a dog,” said Fergus, “but I could not refuse anything to Fionn, so give me the hound.”
Uct Dealv put the chain in his hand.
“Ah, bad dog!” said she.
And then she went away well satisfied with her revenge, and returned to her own people in the Shi.
