Ninorc'h had soon filled all the earthen vessels in the house, and then all those of wood, but still the milk flowed on.
"Now, holy Mother save us!" cried the widow, "certainly this beast has drunk of the waters of Languengar." [40]
In fact, the milk of Mor Vyoc'h was inexhaustible; she had already yielded enough to satisfy every babe in Cornouaille.
In a little time nothing was talked of throughout the country but the widow's cow, and people crowded from all parts to see it. The rector of Peros-Guirek came among the rest, to see whether it were not a snare of the evil one; but after he had laid his stole upon Mor Vyoc'h's head, he pronounced her clear of all suspicion.
Before long all the richest farmers were persuading Ninorc'h to sell her cow, each one bidding against the other for so invaluable a beast; her brother Perrik among the rest.
"Come," said he, "I am your brother; as a good Christian you must give me the preference. Let me have Mor Vyoc'h, and I will give you in exchange as many cows as it takes tailors to make a man." [41]
"Is that your Christian dealing?" answered the widow. "Nine cows for Mor Vyoc'h! She is worth all the cows in the country, far and near. With her milk I could supply all the markets in the bishoprics of Tréguier and Cornouaille, from Dinan to Carhaix."
"Well, sister, only let me have her," replied Perrik, "and I will give up to you our father's farm, on which you were born, with all the fields, ploughs, and horses."
This proposal Ninorc'h accepted, and was forthwith put in possession, turning up a sod in the meadows, taking a draught of water from the well, and kindling a fire on the hearth; besides cutting a tuft of hair from the horses' tails in token of ownership. [42] She then delivered Mor Vyoc'h to Perrik, who led her away to a house which he had at some distance, towards Menez-Brée.
A day of tears and sadness was that for May-flower; and as at night she went the round of the stalls to see that all was right, she could not help again and again murmuring, as she filled the mangers,
"Alas, Mor Vyoc'h is gone! I shall never see Mor Vyoc'h again."
With this lament still on her lips, she suddenly heard a lowing behind her, in which, as by virtue of the gold-herb her ears were now open to the language of all animals, she distinctly made out these words,