The Gobaun Saor had to make a journey to look at trees that were growing in the forest, and the King’s Son guarded his anvil. And at night a Fua came out of the river and flung great stones, striving to drive him away from the anvil. He ran down to the river bank to drive it away, but the creature caught him in its long arms and tried to drown him in the deep water. The King of Ireland’s Son was near his death, but he broke away from the Fua, and when the creature caught him again, he dragged it up the bank and held it against a tree. “I will give you the mastery of all arts because you have mastered me,” said the Fua. “I do not want the mastery of arts, but maybe you can tell me where to find the Sword of Light.” “You want to know that--do you?” said the Fua, and then it twisted from him and went into the river. The Fua came the next night and flung stones as before, and the King’s Son wrestled with it in the very middle of the river, and held him so that he could not get to the other bank. “I will give you heaps of wealth because you have mastered me,” said the creature with the big eyes and the long arms. “Not wealth, but the knowledge of where to come on the Sword of Light is what I want from you,” said the King of Ireland’s Son. But the Fua twisted from him and ran away again. The next night the Fua came again, and the King’s Son wrestled with him in the middle of the river and followed him up the other bank, and held him against a tree. “I will give you the craft that will make you the greatest of Kings, because you have mastered me.” “Not craft, but knowledge of where the Sword of Light is, I want from you,” said the King’s Son. “Only one of the People of Light can tell you that,” said the Fua. It became a small, empty sort of creature and lay on the ground like a shadow. The Gobaun Saor came back to his forge and his anvil. “You have guarded my anvil for me,” he said, “and I will tell you where to go for the Sword of Light. It is in the Palace of the Ancient Ones under the Lake. You have an enchanted steed that can go to that Lake. I shall turn his head, and he shall go straight to it. When you come to the edge of the Lake pull the branches of the Fountain Tree and give the Slight Red Steed the leaves to eat. Mount now and go.” The King of Ireland’s Son mounted the Slight Red Steed and went traveling again. II From all its branches, high and low, water was falling in little streams. This was the Fountain Tree indeed. He did not dismount, the King of Ireland’s Son, but pulled the branches and he gave them to the Slight Red Steed to eat.