So that the Nemain
produced confusion on the host. The four provinces of Ireland came
into a tumult of weapons about the points of their own spears and
weapons, so that a hundred warriors of them died of terror and of
heart-burst in the middle of the camp and of the position that
night.
When Loeg was there, he saw something: a single man who came
straight across the camp of the men of Ireland from the north-east
straight towards him.
'A single man is coming to us now, O Little Hound!' said Loeg.
'What kind of man is there?' said Cuchulainn.
'An easy question: a man fair and tall is he, with hair cut broad,
waving yellow hair; a green mantle folded round him; a brooch of
white silver in the mantle on his breast; a tunic of royal silk,
with red ornamentation of red gold against the white skin, to his
knees. A black shield with a hard boss of white metal; a five
pointed spear in his hand; a forked (?) javelin beside it.
Wonderful is the play and sport and exercise that he makes; but no
one attacks him, and he attacks no one, as if no one saw him.'
'It is true, O fosterling,' said he; 'which of my friends from the
_sid_ is that who comes to have pity on me, because they know the
sore distress in which I am, alone against the four great provinces
of Ireland, on the Cattle-Foray of Cualnge at this time?'
That was true for Cuchulainn.
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