So the Queen sent again for the old prophecy and told her all. ‘Haven’t you a yard out there,’ says she, ‘and a wall around it,’ says she, ‘is that high a bird can hardly fly over it,’ says she. ‘And let you drive the Bullockeen in there,’ says she, ‘and put your champions around to kill it.’ So that was done, but when the Bullockeen saw all the champions making an attack on him, he rose up in the air, and the Queen was leaning out through the window, and he took her on his horns, and whitewashed the wall with her bones. He called to the boy then, and the boy put a halter on him, and they rode away together where the winds never blew, and the cocks never crew, and the old boy himself never sounded his horn. And they overtook the wind that was before them, and the wind that was after them couldn’t overtake them. They came then to a great wood, and the Black Bullockeen says to the boy: ‘Get up now into the highest tree you can find, and stop there through the day, for I have to fight with the Red Bull that is coming against me. And unscrew my right horn,’ says he, ‘and take out the little bottle that is in it,’ says he, ‘and keep it with you; and if I am well at the end of the day,’ says he, ‘it will be as white as snow.’ The Red Bull came to meet him then, and his head was as big as another’s body would be; and he and the little Bullockeen went to fight together and the boy stopped up in the tree. And in the evening he looked at the little bottle, and what was in it was as white as before. So he came down, and he found the Bullockeen, and got up on his back again, and they went off the same as before. They came then to the wood where the White Bull was, and he came out to fight the Bullockeen, and all happened the same as the first day. And the boy came down from his tree and got on his back again, and they went on to another wood. And the Green Bull came to meet him this time, and the boy went up in a tree. And at evening he looked at the little bottle and it was red up to the cork. He got down then and went to look for the Bullockeen, and he found him lying on the ground at the point of death. [Illustration: THE BLACK BULLOCKEEN DIES.] And the Green Bull made a great bellow, and made away and left him there. And the Bullockeen said: ‘I am going to leave you now,’ says he, ‘but I won’t go without leaving you something. And when I am dead,’ says he, ‘cut three strips of skin off of me, from the nape of the neck to the root of the tail, and put them about your body. And you to be wearing those,’ says he, ‘they’ll give you the strength of six hundred men.’ So the boy sat down on the ground and cried him through three days and three nights. And after that he cut off as he was bade the three strips of the skin, and put them around his body, and they gave him the strength of six hundred men. That now is the story of the Bullockeen, and it is a story that happened in the long ago.