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"I made no promise to tell you that," said the En-chanter of the Black Back-Lands. "You have got the story you asked for, and now let me see your back going through my door." "Yes, you have got the story, and be off with you now," said the woman who sat by the fire. He put up his sword; he went to the door; he left the house of the Enchanter of the Black Back-Lands.
"Well," said the Enchanter of the Black Back-Lands, "you have performed your first task, I see. You are a greater enchanter than I thought you were. Whitefoot the Fawn can go in with my goats. Go back now to your own sleeping-place. To-morrow I'll come to you early and give you your second task." The King of Ireland's Son went back and into the dry water-tank.
The King of Ireland's Son was home again, but as he kept asking about a King and a Kingdom no one had ever heard of, people thought he had lost his wits in his search for the Enchanter of the Black Back-Lands.
He saw the Enchanter of the Black Back-Lands waiting at the goat-house, now counting the goats that came along and now looking at the sun. When he saw the King of Ireland's Son coming with his capture he was so angry that he struck an old full-bearded goat that had stopped to rub itself. The goat reared up and struck him with his horns.
"That is all of the Unique Tale that I know," said the Enchanter of the Black Back-Lands, "and now that I have told it to you, put up your sword." "I will put up no sword," said the King of Ireland's Son, "until you tell me what King and Queen were the father and mother of the child that was reared by the Hags of the Long Teeth."
And now you must tell me how I can serve you." "You can serve me," said the King's Son, "by showing me how I may come to the dominion of the Enchanter of the Black Back-Lands." "I am the only creature who can show you, King's Son. And if I were not old now I would carry you there on my back. But I can tell you how you can get there.
He was a long time there, stiff and sore and hungry, before the sun rose and the Enchanter of the Black Back-Lands came out of the house. "I hope you had a good night's rest," said the Enchanter of the Black Back-Lands, when he came to where the King of Ireland's Son was crouched, just at the rising of the sun. "I had indeed," said the King's Son.
Je went into the tank. He knew that he had not long to wait before the sun would rise and the Enchanter of the Black Back-Lands would come to him and give him the third and the most difficult of the three tasks. And he thought that Fedelma was surely shut away from him and that she would not be able to help him that day.
Although Bert had been forbidden to leave the homestead, unless in company with some grown-up person, he had on several occasions forgotten this injunction, in the ardour of his play, but never so completely as on the day that, tempted by Charlie Chisholm, the most reckless, daring youngster in the neighbourhood, he went away off into the back-lands, as the woods beyond the hill pasture were called, in search of an eagle's nest, which the unveracious Charlie assured him was to be seen high up in a certain dead monarch of the forest.
Ride forward for a day, first with the sun before you and then with the sun at your back, until you come to the shore of a lake. Stay there until you see three swans flying down. They are the three daughters of the Enchanter of the Black Back-Lands. Mark the one who carries a green scarf in her mouth. She is the youngest daughter and the one who can help you.
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