Hasten now. Run her down with the Shoes of Swiftness and then lay hold of her
horns. Above all things Whitefoot dreads the loss of her silver horns."

He thanked Fedelma. He put on the Shoes of Swiftness and went into the wood.
Now he could go as the eagle flies. He found Whitefoot the Fawn drinking at
the Raven's pool.

When she saw him she went from thicket to thicket. The Shoes of Swiftness were
hardly any use to him in these shut-in places. At last he beat her from the
last thicket. It was the hour of noon-tide then. There was a clear plain
before them and with the Shoes of Swiftness he ran her down. There were tears
in the Fawn's eyes and he knew she was troubled with the dread of losing her
silver horns.

He kept his hands on the horns and they went back over miles of plain and
pasture, bog and wood. The hours were going quicker than they were going. When
'he came within the domain of the Enchanter of the Black Back-Lands he saw the
goats going quickly before him. They were hurrying from their pastures to the
goat-shelter, one stopping, maybe, to bite the top of a hedge and another
giving this one a blow with her horns to hurry her on. "By your silver horns,
we must go faster," said the King of Ireland's Son to the Fawn. They went more
quickly then.

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. "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