The Hound of Ulster by Rosemary Sutcliff Page A

brought from his breast his old supple sling, and set into its pouch a sling ball of iron mixed with silver; and he waited. And when Foill came striding back with his shield up and his war gear clanging on him, Cuchulain let fly at him with a shout like a boy letting fly at a marsh bird, and the sling ball struck him on the forehead and drove through war cap and bone into his brain, so that he leapt up into the air and fell face forward with no sound save the clangour of his armour.
    Then Cuchulain sprang forward, drawing his sword, and with one mighty stroke shored through the strong neck of Foill Mac Nechtan, and pulling off the helmet, took up the head and knotted it by the long hair to his chariot rim.
    Scarcely had he done so, when the second son of Nechtan, having seen from the ramparts the ill fate of his brother, came running, sword in hand; and him Cuchulain fought and killed with the sword, and knotted his head beside that of Foill to his chariot rim, while the horses stamped and snorted at the smell of blood; and so it went on until there were seven heads hanging for trophies at the rim of Cuchulain’s chariot, and no more sons of Nechtan to take up the fight. Then Cuchulain cleaned his sword on the grass and bade Laeg to make fire from his fire-pot, and they pulled branches of heather and dead furze and dipped them in the flame and flung them blazing over the gate of the D Å« n, and then galloped away, leaving the fortress roaring up like a great torch behind them.
    All night they drove between the moon and the darkened heather, and at dawn a great flock of wild swans flew over, and Cuchulain brought down sixteen of them alive with his light sling stones and tied them to the chariot by long leashes of silkpulled from the hem of his tunic, so that they circled overhead as he drove; for by now, with the fighting and his triumph the battle frenzy was growing upon him, and he could perform feats of strength and skill that were beyond any man in his right nature. And when they saw in the distance a herd of deer, he bade Laeg to turn the horses after them and whip them to their fullest speed; then seeing that even such horses as his could not overtake them, he sprang down from the chariot and ran them down on foot, and took with his naked hands the two great stags who were the lords of the herd, and tied them with the spare picket ropes to the sides of the chariot as though they had been wheelers of a four-horse team. Then with Laeg lashing on the horses, they thundered on towards Emain Macha.
    That evening at the Royal D Å« n, a warrior of Conor Mac Nessa who had been on watch upon the ramparts went running to the King in such haste that he scarce remembered to touch spear to forehead in salute before he burst into the tale he had to tell. ‘My Lord the King, there is a chariot rushing towards the D Å« n, the like of which no man ever saw before, for wild swans circle above it and two stags are the wheelers of the team, and it is hung all round with the bleeding heads of enemies!’
    Then Conor Mac Nessa snatched up his spear and hurried to the ramparts to see who it was that drove to Emain Macha in such strange manner. And looking out into the fiery light of sunset, he saw that the chariot-warrior was Cuchulain and that for the first time his full battle frenzy had come upon him. Now as the years went by this battle frenzy of Cuchulain’s became a thing that all men knew and trembled at; and the way of it was this: from head to heel he quivered like a bullrush in a running stream, and the muscles of his neck stood out like the coils of a writhing serpent. One eye sank deep into his head, and theother thrust out, full of flames, and foam burst from his mouth like the fleece of a three-year-old ram and his heartbeats sounded like the roars of a lion as he rushes on his prey. A light blazed upon his forehead, and his hair grew tangled as the branches of a thorn bush. And from the crown of his head