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slowly. When the horse saw him leaving, it began to move after him, with the fifteen Fianna warriors still on its back.
    The Giolla Deacair suddenly increased the length of his strides and headed off quickly in a southwesterly direction. The horse broke into a canter and then a gallop as it followed its master. The men on its back tried to jump off, but found to their dismay that they were welded to the horse like a sword to its hilt. The rest of the Fianna had a good laugh at their predicament. Conán threw a desperate glance back at the receding figures of Fionn and the others.
    ‘Shame on you all!’ he shouted. ‘Are you willing to stand by and let your comrades be borne away by this ugly animal?’
    Fionn signalled to the others to join him in following the horse and the Giolla. They set off in pursuit, but no matter how fast they went, the Giolla and his horse went faster, travelling like the wind over mountains, valleys and rivers.
    Soon the Giolla disappeared from sight. Then, just as the Fianna thought that the horse had also eluded them, they saw it standing on a strand by the very edge of the sea.
    The warrior who was leading the chase managed to get a grip on the horse’s tail. He held on tightly, hoping to delay the animal until the others arrived to help him. But the horse shot into the waves, dragging the man after him. When he tried to let go, he found that both his hands were stuck firmly to the animal’s tail.
    The horse continued on its journey through the sea. The waves did not touch it nor the fifteen Fianna on its back, nor the unfortunate man clinging to its tail. Instead, the water parted before the animal, so that it travelled on a path of dry ground.
    Fionn and his companions stood, crestfallen, on the strand, watching their comrades disappear from view and wondering would they ever see them again. Fionn turned sadly to Feargus.
    ‘Is there nothing more we can do to help them?’ he asked.
    Feargus gazed thoughtfully out to sea. ‘We should find a ship and search for them.’
    Fionn and the others agreed. On their way to their camp they met two brothers, Fearadach and Foltlár, and told them about the Giolla’s trick and how they were looking for a ship to follow him.
    ‘I am a skilled builder of ships,’ Fearadach replied.
    ‘And I am an expert tracker,’ Foltlár added, ‘on sea as well as on land. We would like to help you.’
    ‘We need a shipbuilder,’ Fionn said. ‘And, although we have the most skilled trackers on land, we have none who can also track on sea. We would welcome your help.’
    When the ship was ready, Fionn selected his grandson, Oscar, as well as Diarmaid Ó Duibhne, Conán and his brother Goll, and Fearadach, Foltlár and ten others to accompany him on the quest for the Giolla Deacair. He instructed his son, Oisín, to remain in Ireland in charge of the rest of the Fianna while he was away. Then he and the others set sail in the direction the horse had taken.

    After many days’ voyaging they arrived at the base of a cliff which soared so high into the sky that the peak almost touched the clouds.
    ‘This is where the track of the Giolla Deacair runs out,’ Foltlár said. ‘He and his horse, and the men stuck on its back, must have travelled on over that cliff.’
    Fionn stared up at the rock and shook his head gloomily. ‘I can’t see a way to the top of that,’ he declared. There was a murmur of agreement from his companions. Then Feargus spoke up.
    ‘There is one among us who could do it,’ he said, ‘if he has not lost his daring and courage.’ He stared meaningfully at Diarmaid.
    Diarmaid craned his neck to look up at the towering cliff. ‘It is a very hard challenge you place before me,’ he said. ‘But, for the sake of our comrades, I will do my best to climb the cliff.’
    He buckled on his sword, harnessed his spear to his back with one of the ship’s ropes and began to climb. It was slow, dangerous progress as he searched for footholds in