had no compass and could see no land, they drifted till the boat went in to a shore. This was the first appearance of land they saw since leaving the _Eilean Gorm_. A big man came down where they were--they never saw his equal for size--and he caught the fore part of the boat and drew it up above high water mark, with them all in it. He invited them to go to his house. They went with him and were made welcome. The daughter of the house, on being asked by the elder of the two brothers for a drink, brought a a two-hooped wooden dish full of milk, set it on the floor beside them and went away. One of the strangers rose to lift the dish and he could not. Then three of them rose, but it defied them to lift it. She came back, and finding the dish as she left it, said, “If you have quenched your thirst it is not awanting from the measure (_air a’ mheasair_)”. The cowhide one replied, “We have not been accustomed to stoop like cattle (_cromadh mar bhà_) when we take a drink, and we could not lift the dish.” At that she caught the wooden dish by the ear, in her left hand, and held the drink to them all. “Where have you come from,” she said, “or where are you going?” “We came from the dark-blue sea-isle,” he said, “and are going to the hilly isle (_do ’n eilean bheannach_).” “That is Mull,” she said, “Mull of my love, Mull of little men (_Muile mo ghràidh, Muile nam fear beaga_).” They passed that night cheerfully together, and went to put off to sea next day; but when they tried to move the boat and get it afloat, they might as well attempt to move the Rhinns of Islay (_an Roinn Ileach_) they could not move it. The young wife who came with them from Islay said then, “I know where we are; we are in the green isle that is under spells (_fo gheasaibh_), but I have a gift that will let us leave it,” and she told those with her how her mother had at parting given her a cap, saying, “If you are ever in a strait, put it on, and you must at the same time bend your head to the ground as low as your feet seven times (_seachd uairean do shròn a bhualadh ri òrdaig do choise_).” She had the cap in her belt (_’n a cneas_), and she told them to sit in the boat and take the oars. She then stood in their midst, touched the cap, bent her head, and it went up to her breast (_an cneas_); the next time it went up to her neck (_am muineal_); the third time, to her chin, (_an smigead_); then, as she bent her head, at the fourth time, it went up past her mouth to her nose; the next time, it reached her eyes, then her forehead, at last the top of her head, and the boat was off. The mist was still there. They asked the eldest brother in which direction they were to set their course. He told them to follow the flight of birds, as they went shorewards in the evening and would guide them to land. There is a saying about the home-coming of birds and fish, that “Birds of the universe go westward, and fish of the deep