The King of Ireland's Son

s Son was crouched, just at the rising of the sun. "I had indeed," said the King's Son. "And I suppose you feel fit for anot

nt to have it thatched with the feathers of birds. Go," said he, "and get enough feathers of wild birds and come back and thatch the bee-hive shelter for me, and let it be don

came. He shot at it with an arrow but did not bring it down. He hunted the moor all over

him what task her father had set him. "A terrible task," he said, and he told her what it was. Fedelma laughed. "I was in dread he

eathers on the ground-pigeons' feathers and pie's feathers, crane's and crow's, blackbird's and starling's. The King of Ireland's Son quickly gathered them into his bag. The falcon flew to another place and gave her bird-call again. The birds gathered, and she went amongst them, plucking their feathers. The King's Son gathered them and the blue falcon flew to another place. Over and over again the blue falcon called to the birds and plucked out their feathers, and over and over again the King's Son gathered them into his bag. When he thought he had f