… Within the walls of the white-washed house Fin, and his Merry-Men, found an old man lying bent on the edge of the hearth with a sheep tied to the wall alongside.
They sat at table and the old man raised his head and acknowledged them.
‘Little enough chance of sating our thirst and hunger in this hovel,’ thought Dermot.
Just then the old man called loudly for food and drink, and up from the floor below came a strapping young lass who wasted no time in setting the table with a feast fit for kings.
But no sooner had Fin and his Merry-Men put fork to food than the sheep which was tied to the wall broke its hempen rope and rushed toward the table sending the food and drink to the floor.
“By the God’s!” cried Conan, “look at the mess you have made of our supper, and we so badly in need of it.”
“Get up and tie the sheep, Conan,” said Fin.
So, Conan got up and, grabbing the sheep by the scruff of the neck, attempted to drag it back towards the wall.
Try as he might he was unable to do so.
“What’s this,” laughed Dermot along with all the other men, “Conan, the great warrior, defeated by a sheep.”