But before they had entered the wood they had come to a high grassy mound. And standing on that grassy mound was the most tremendous bull that Flann had ever seen.
“My own bull,” said Crom Duv, “the Bull of the Mound. Look back at him, little fellow. If ever you try to escape from my service my Bull of the Mound will toss you into the air and trample you into the ground.” Crom Duv blew on a horn that he had across his chest. The Bull of the Mound rushed down the slope snorting. Crom Duv shouted and the bull stood still with his tremendous head bent down.
Flann’s heart, I tell you, sank, when he saw the bull that guarded Crom Duv’s house. They went through the deep wood then, and came to the gate of the Giant’s Keep. Only a chain was across it, and Crom Duv lifted up the chain. The courtyard was filled with cattle black and red and striped. The Giant tied Flann to a stone pillar. “Are you there, Morag, my byre-maid?” he shouted.
“I am here,” said a voice from the byre. More cattle were in the byre and someone was milking them.
There was straw on the ground of the courtyard and Crom Duv lay down on it and went to sleep with the cattle trampling around him. A great stone wall was being built all round the Giant’s Keep--a wall six feet thick and built as high as twenty feet in some places and in others as high as twelve. The wall was still being built, for heaps of stones and great mixing-pans were about. And just before the door of the Keep was a Rowan Tree that grew to a great height. At the very top of the tree were bunches of red berries. Cats were lying around the stems of the tree and cats were in its branches--great yellow cats. More yellow cats stepped out of the house and came over to him. They looked Flann all over and went back, mewing to each other.
The cattle that were in the courtyard went into the byre one by one as they were called by the voice of the byre-maid. Crom Duv still slept. By and by a little red hen that was picking about the courtyard came near him and holding up her head looked Flann all over.
When the last cow had gone in and the last stream of milk had sounded in the milking-vessel the byre-maid came into the courtyard. Flann thought he would see a long-armed creature like Crom Duv himself. Instead he saw a girl with good and kind eyes, whose disfigurements were that her face was pitted and her hair was bushy. “I am Morag, Crom Duv’s byre-maid,” said she.