FINN The stranger that was here anon. CONDHLA I never knew. CONAN Is he gone? ANGUS Which way did he go? FINN I do not know. GONACHRY What was he like? FINN I can’t tell. I must find him; he has gone Off with something I had on. CONAN You don’t look very well. GONACHRY [_Sarcastically._] I saw him running up the ben, As swift as a spot of sunlight when The clouds bend with a cup To pounce on him and cover him up Like a wasp inside a glass. ANGUS Hush! I hear Mactalla pass, He’s surely singing in his sleep. Since it’s never very deep, Let us rouse him up and speir If the stranger is still here. [_All cry aloud, against the rocks: “Mactalla! Mactalla! Mactalla!” The echo is returned mockingly: “Mactalla! Mactalla! Mactalla!”_] ANGUS Tut! He’s in a teasing mood to-day; We’ll get nothing out of him. I say! Answer, and I’ll promise you fair, A big laugh to yourself off the back of Ben Y Bheithir. MACTALLA[1] [_Mocking from somewhere._] I say! I say! A big laugh off the back of Ben Y Bheithir? ANGUS Ha! ha! You’re there, little fellow! Yes, at the back of Ben Bheithir, where the yellow Saxifrage grows out of the crannied rock, I’ll give you a laugh to yourself that’ll shock The natives, if you’ll tell us now Which way the stranger went. MACTALLA Bow-wow! I’ll have the big laugh out of you, But I cannot tell you true Which one way the stranger went, For he’s left an echo pent In everything he came across. I’m entirely at a loss. Can’t you catch it here and there? I think he must be everywhere. [_The growing things are heard talking._] ALDER-TREE Is that you, Grass? GRASS Yes, I am growing Under his feet, If the heather will let me pass. HEATHER I’ll try to, if you’ll meet Me half-way. SCOTCH PINE [_Loftily._] I say, There’s no knowing What she’ll be up to next. Take my text, And scarcely let yourself be seen, With anyone so very green. YEW-TREE [_Phlegmatically._] I am quite at a loss To know what came across My barrowful of withered leaves. ROWAN [_Gently._]