And then he
shook the golden reins and the horse threw its head aloft and snorted
and bore him away in a pace like that of flowing water for speed and
smoothness. Anon they came to the margin of the blue sea, and still
the white steed galloped on, brushing the crests of the waves into
glittering spray. The sun glared upon the sea and Oisin's head swam
with the heat and motion, and in mist and dreams he rode where no day
was, nor night, nor any thought of time, till at last his horse's
hoofs ploughed through wet, yellow sands, and he saw black rocks
rising up at each side of a little bay, and inland were fields green
or brown, and white cottages thatched with reeds, and men and women,
toil-worn and clad in earth-coloured garments, went to and fro about
their tasks or stopped gazing at the rider in his crimson cloak and at
the golden trappings of his horse. But among the cottages was a small
house of stone such as Oisin had never seen in the land of Erinn;
stone was its roof as well as the walls, very steep and high, and
near-by from a rude frame of timber there hung a bell of bronze. Into
this house there passed one whom from his shaven crown Oisin guessed
to be a druid, and behind him two lads in white apparel. The druid
having seen the horseman turned his eyes again to the ground and
passed on, regarding him not, and the lads did likewise.
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