There is known to have been a hill called Ard Chein (Cian’s Mound) in the district of Muirthemne, and O’Curry identifies it tentatively with one now called Dromslian. Footnote 119: Pronounced _Pēzar_. Footnote 120: Pronounced _Dobar_. Footnote 121: Pronounced _Asal_. Footnote 122: Pronounced _Irōda_. Footnote 123: Pronounced _Fincāra_. Footnote 124: The _Hill_ (cnoc) _of Midkēna_. Footnote 125: A mythical country inhabited by Fomors. Footnote 126: See chap. VI—“The Gods Arrive”. Footnote 127: _Ibid._ Footnote 128: See chap. VI—“The Gods Arrive”. Footnote 129: See chap. XI—“The Gods in Exile”. Footnote 130: _Ibid._ Footnote 131: Petrie: _Hist. and Antiq. of Tara Hill_. Footnote 132: The country seems to have been identified with Norway or Iceland. Footnote 133: Pronounced _Midkēna_. Footnote 134: The other two are “The Fate of the Children of Lêr”, told in chap. XI, and “The Fate of the Sons of Usnach”, an episode of the Heroic Cycle, related in chap. XIII. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER IX THE WAR WITH THE GIANTS[135] By this time the seven years of preparation had come to an end. A week before the Day of Samhain, the Morrígú discovered that the Fomors had landed upon Erin. She at once sent a messenger to tell the Dagda, who ordered his druids and sorcerers to go to the ford of the River Unius, in Sligo, and utter incantations against them. The people of the goddess Danu, however, were not yet quite ready for battle. So the Dagda decided to visit the Fomorian camp as an ambassador, and, by parleying with them, to gain a little more time. The Fomors received him with apparent courtesy, and, to celebrate his coming, prepared him a feast of porridge; for it was well-known how fond he was of such food. They poured into their king’s cauldron, which was as deep as five giant’s fists, fourscore gallons of new milk, with meal and bacon in proportion. To this they added the whole carcasses of goats, sheep, and pigs; they boiled the mixture together, and poured it into a hole in the ground. “Now,” said they, “if you do not eat it all, we shall put you to death, for we will not have you go back to your own people and say that the Fomors are inhospitable.” But they did not succeed in frightening the Dagda. He took his spoon, which was so large that two persons of our puny size might have reclined comfortably in the middle of it, dipped it into the porridge, and fished up halves of salted pork and quarters of bacon.