BOOK XIII

From out of Ulster some few men arrived To help Cucullin, and console and aid And ease him. These were Shennel Ooaha And the two sons of Gaega—Muridah And Cotreb. These men carried him away To bathe his wounds and make clear water strike Against his gashes, plunged in brooks and streams Of Connallia Mweerhevna. For his friends, The unseen Thooaha Dae Danann, then Were strowing plants and herbs of health and healing On each pure stream of Connallia Mweerhevna, To help Cucullin; so that each bright stream Was greenly checkered with them. Now, the names Of those bestrown, bright streams which helped Cucullin Are these:—the Sawss, the Booan, the Billawn, The Finnglass, the light Glore, the Glenawin, The Baeg, the Tahg, the Telamet, the Rind, The Bir, the Brenid, the Deehaem, the Mooah, The Meelic, the cramped Cumung, and the Cullin, The Ganawin, the Drong, the Delt, the Dooglass. And so the soilure and the dangerous venom Were laved from out his wounds. And, after that, Dry wisps and pads of grass and moss were placed Against those wounds. And supple willow-wands Were arched above him to sustain his bratt; Because his wounds and gashes were so great That he might not endure it if his raiment Should reach his skin. And thus that day his life Was kept within Cucullin; yet it wanted Only a little, and he would have died Despite that help, so bitter were his hurts After that awful combat with Faerdeeah. And while Cucullin thus was bathed and tended The Four Great Fifths of Erin went south-west From Ath Faerdeeah; and they drew nigh Taltin— The burial-field of Ulster kings and queens And kingly princes; and they drove with them Their captives and their droves of Ulster kine, Thinking to drive them through the wide west ford, And into Connaught, ere the men of Ulster Should rise from out their Kesh; and Maev sent forth Mac Roth her messenger, e’en to the hills And crags and green-grassed summits of Slieve Foo-id, To watch the north, that thus in Avvin Maha The men of Ulster might not rise in arms Without her having swift advice and warning.

This is the time wherein the charioteers Of Ulster—three times fifty charioteers— Accoutering themselves with warlike arms, Came south against the hosts. There fell by them Thrice their own number, ere those charioteers From Ulster in the field themselves fell slain.

This is the time when aged Illiah The son of Cass the son of Bac the son Of Ross the Red-haired son of Rury More, Resting in old-age maintenance—maintained In green Rath Immil, by his son’s famed son, By Laery the Victorious—was informed How, throughout all the cold, dark winter months, Even from Sowin till the opening spring, The Four Great Fifths of Erin had been spoiling, And laying waste and ravaging and burning, All Ulster and all Crithny. Illiah Took counsel with his folk. “What counsel now,” Said he, “would seem to you more wise than this, Namely, that I should travel south forthwith To attack the men of Erin, and to take Spoils from their armies, and avenge a little The honour of all Ulster? If thereafter I fall myself and die, that is all one.” His folk approved of that. They caught for him His two old, yellow, withered, wasted steeds, Which were upon the shore beside the doon. They brought his old-time, antique chariot out, That was without cushion or coverlet, And yoked it on the steeds. His rough, grey shield Of iron, with its hard encircling rim Of hardened silver, he took up. He took His rough, grey-hilted sword on his left side. He took his two blunt spears with shaking heads Into his chariot; and his folk arranged Round stones and pillar-stones and great, flat flags About him in his chariot. Furnished so He travelled south against the men of Erin. Ere long the hosts perceived him. Then the men, Seeing that agéd, naked warrior come, His spittle of old age down through the gaps In the old osier-woven chariot-floor Slow-dripping, laughed aloud their mocking laugh. “Good would it seem to us,” they said, “if such Were the description of each man from Ulster Who e’er should come against us!” In that hour Dōha the son of Mahga passed that way. Full quickly he restrained the rabble-crowd. He went to Illiah, and welcomed him. “Welcome thy coming, noble Illiah!” Said Dōha. “What man is it who thus greets me?” Old Illiah queried. “’Tis the friend and comrade Of Laery the Victorious,” Dōha said. “’Tis Dōha son of Mahga.” “Dear to me Thy welcome is, then,” Illiah replied; “Therefore draw near me after some short while, When all my valour shall have withered up, And all my weapons shall have been expended, That thou thyself and not some other man Among the men of Erin mayst be he Who strikes my head from me. And let my sword Be kept by thee for Laery.” The old man Then with his weapons wrought upon the hosts Until his weapons had been all expended; And when his weapons had been all expended, He wrought upon them with his rocky weights— Round stones and pillar-stones and great, flat flags, Which he had there—till these had been expended. And when his flags and stones had been expended, He wrought upon them with his arms. He seized Whichever man among the men of Erin Came near; and ’twixt his forearms and his fists Compressed and chafed him till he made of him A marrow-mass, wherein formless were mingled Sinews and skin and bones and hair and flesh. One of the three chief wonders of the Táin Is the great number whom he wrought on so, Ere all his old-age valour was expended; And when his strength and valour were expended, Descrying Dōha, he called out to him: “Come to me now, O Dōha son of Mahga! Now strike my head from me; but let my sword Be kept by thee for Laery.” Dōha came. With one swift sword-blow he struck off the head From the old warrior; and in this way ended “The stone-attack of agéd Illiah.” Now—though the king and chiefs in Avvin Maha Arose not yet out of their blinding Kesh, Which had been paining them and blinding them— Yet, by degrees, in other parts of Ulster, Some few great Ulster chiefs arose with life, And came to attack the hosts. The first of these Was the famed warrior-poet, Avver-guin The son of Cass the son of Bac the son Of Ross the Red-haired son of Rury More. He was the father of great Conall Carna, Who at this time was gathering rent and tribute For Ulster, in the isles beyond the sea. Avver-guin reached the hosts as they were passing With all their throngs to westward over Taltin, The ancient burial-field of Ulster kings And princes; and he drove them back once more Before him over Taltin, toward the north. He put his firm left elbow under him In Taltin, and his folk provided him With stones and pillar-stones, and great flat flags; And with these missiles he assailed the hosts Throughout the space of three days and three nights. This was the time when, in the far south-west, In Caher Conroi, Cooroi son of Dawra, Having returned from warfare in far Scythia, Was told how through those long, dark, winter months, Even from Sowin till the opening spring, The Four Great Fifths of Erin had been stayed And held in check and hindered and delayed By one man all alone. Now, as for Cooroi, Since first he had taken arms, he had not reddened His sword in Erin; for there was not room In Erin for his pride and haughtiness And warrior-fulness; and he e’er had reddened His sword in distant lands. But when he heard How the Four Fifths of Erin had been hindered By one man all alone, he said: “That man, Indeed, gives worthy matter for a combat.” And Cooroi son of Dawra went forthwith To seek hard battle-combat with Cucullin. Then, when he came to the lone forest-hiding Wherein Cucullin was, and saw Cucullin Crying with bitter pain, and full of wounds, And pierced and hurt, it did not seem to him Noble or hero-like or full of honour To seek a combat with him. “For,” he said, “It would not be the wounds given by me, Which would now cause his death; ’twould be the wounds Which he obtained in combat with Faerdeeah.” Cooroi the son of Dawra therefore left Cucullin; and he went to join the hosts, And to have speech with his own household people Who were upon that hosting. When he came And joined the hosts, he perceived Avver-guin, Westward of Taltin, hurling at the hosts, With his left elbow under him. Then Cooroi Passed round the men of Erin toward the north Of Taltin; and his folk provided him With stones and pillar-stones and great, flat flags; And face to face he assailed Avver-guin, So that the rocks and pillar-stones and flags Answered each other in the air, and clashed Amidst the clouds and in the air above The heads of all those hosts. A hundred stones Were made of every separate stone of them Amidst the clouds and winds above their heads. “Upon the truth of valour which thou hast, O Cooroi,” Maev said, “cease from this thy hurling: ’Tis not good help that comes to us therefrom, But evil help.” “I give my word,” said Cooroi, “I will not cease until the Breast of Doom, Or until Avver-guin shall cease.” Thereon Avver-guin said: “I will cease verily; And bind thyself to come again no more To help these hosts of Erin.” Cooroi then Accepted that; and went upon his road To his own folk and his own high-walled doon— To Caher Conroi in the far south-west. During this time the hosts of Erin passed O’er Taltin toward the west. “It was not this,” Said Avver-guin, “which Cooroi bound on me Namely, that I should ne’er begin again To hurl against yon hosts.” Therefore, again He went to westward of them, and he drove them Before him over Taltin toward the north; And he began to hurl, and hurled at them For a long while and a great space of time. And then it was that all the men of Erin Said it would not dishonour Avver-guin, If they should leave their camp in Taltin empty, And if their hosts should go for one day’s journey Back toward the north, so that they might be stayed And be delayed upon their road to Connaught; And if, on his part, Avver-guin should stay His deeds of valour from the hosts of Erin, Until the day when, in a powerful battle, The Five Great Fifths of Erin should be met Upon the fields of Gawrig and Ilgawrig, As now their druids and their seers and prophets Were prophesying they should meet. He said He would accept that. Then the hosts went back One full day’s journey toward the north; and he, Keeping in Taltin, stayed his deeds of valour Against the men of the Four Fifths of Erin.

The next of the great Ulster chiefs to come To do his deeds against the hosts of Erin Was Rōhee son of Faha-win, who came From Reedonn in the north. He brought with him Thrice fifty warriors; and he seized a hill Facing the hosts of the Four Fifths of Erin. Findabair daughter of Maev and Al-yill Saw Rōhee on that hill not far from them; And he was thus:—a hero than whom none Could be more comely or more beautiful; For on his head there was a bushy grove Of hair red-yellow; and his pure-skinned face Was broad above and narrowed toward the chin; His eyes were very blue, keen with high pride, Like laughing candles in his head; his lips Were rosy, thin; his teeth gleamed like clear pearls; His figure was erect and tall and even, Broad at the shoulder, narrow-hipped, white-skinned. He wore a layna made of royal srōl With margin-hems of gold. His bratt of crimson Was fastened with a princely yō of gold. He wore a white-bright shield, whereon were beasts Of twisted gold. His dazzling warrior-sword Was golden-hilted; and his spear was long, Grey-edged, and done with rivets of findrinny. In all wide Erin there had ne’er been seen A hero-chief more beautiful; and maidens Throughout wide Erin loved him for the tales Which were related of his shape and beauty. Findabair daughter of Maev and Al-yill, When she perceived that warrior Rōhee there, Grew rosy and then pale; and ere the eve She to her mother, even to Maev, spake all Her whisper and her secret. “O dear mother,” She said, “’tis yonder hero whom I love; And who (since I have seen him) e’er will be The man to whom my thoughts will cleave—the man Whom I would choose to be my love and wooer.” And Maev replied: “Dear child, if thou dost love him, He shall be thine. Sleep with him, then, this night; But, first of all, ask of him that he stay His deeds of valour from these hosts of Erin, Until the day when, in a powerful battle, The Five Great Fifths of Erin shall be met Upon the fields of Gawrig and Ilgawrig, As now our druids and our seers and prophets Are prophesying they shall meet.” And Rōhee The son of Faha-win accepted that; And Findabair daughter of Maev and Al-yill Went to the tent of Rōhee that same night. Now one among the seven under-kings Of Munster who had come upon that hosting Was told of this. He spake unto his people: “That maid was promised to myself,” he said, “Long before this. That was indeed the reason Why I came forth upon this war and hosting.” Each of the seven under-kings of Munster Said the same words; and that that was the reason Why he himself had come upon the hosting. “And wherefore should we not now go,” they said, “To avenge our honour on those seven men, Those seven Mahn-yas, sons of Maev and Al-yill, Who now keep guard to rearward of these hosts, In the low-lying Im-lee of Glendomna?” This was the counsel which they deemed the best. Then they arose—each with his warrior-cantred. And, on the other part, Al-yill and Maev And all the seven sons of Mahga rose With their own people and their warrior-cantreds. And it was then that Fergus son of Roy Rose with his cantred to make intercession And peace between them. But to make that peace Was putting hand to a great work; for ere That peace was made, and all sat down in quiet Beside their comrades and beside their arms, Hundreds of very valiant men had fallen On both those sides. And this, indeed, was one Of three uncounted slaughters on the Táin, Which were: the Shessra of the Bressla More, This “Imlee of Glendomna,” and the battle Upon the fields of Gawrig and Ilgawrig, The battle of the Táin. And Findabair Daughter of Maev and Al-yill heard these tidings, Namely, that those unnumbered men had fallen Through her occasion. And she had not known Of all the promises which had been made Before the Táin. Then, when she heard these tidings, Her heart within her breast broke and was cloven With shame and generous feeling towards those men. And she found death; and she was buried straightway. And that red, heath-grown, very lonely hill, Wherein that day with grief they buried her, After that time was called Slieve Findabair. And on that heath-grown hill they wailed above her Her death-wail, and her loud, long burial-cry— E’en as in old, old, very far-back days, Brigit the daughter of the mighty Dagda Had ordered and ordained; for it was Brigit, That woman-poet and that woman-druid, The goddess whom all poets love and worship, Who had ordained that in all time to come There should be wailing o’er the dead in Erin. The hosts of Erin said: “White was this fight For Rōhee son of Faha-win—unnumbered Full-valiant men to fall through his occasion, And he without a redness or a wound.”

The hosts of Erin travelled toward the west, And made their camps that night in Slane of Meath.

Of “Sooaltim’s Repeated Warning” now We next must tell. Sooaltim had been told How his young son, the son of Dectora, Namely, Cucullin, was in hard oppression Of very wrongful and unequal combat With Calateen of many dangerous arts Together with his seven and twenty sons, And his young grandson, Glass the son of Delga. Then, after some delaying, Sooaltim Went forth to find Cucullin; and he found him In wounds and pain, wounded well-nigh to death After his awful combat with Faerdeeah. And Sooaltim began to wail above him, And to cry out with pity and with woe. Then to Cucullin it seemed loss of honour That Sooaltim should wail above him—seeing That, though he was in wounds and grief and pain, This Sooaltim could not avenge him. Thus Was Sooaltim:—no mighty, wondrous warrior, And yet no bad, mean warrior; but a good, Plain, homely, ordinary man-at-arms. Cucullin then spake unto Sooaltim: “Good, now, my father Sooaltim,” he said, “Cease from thy wailing; and away with thee To Avvin Maha to the men of Ulster. Say to them that they now must come themselves After their wives and babes and driven kine. I am unfit to guard them any longer Amidst the gaps and passes of the land Of Connallia Mweerhevna. All alone I have been facing the Four Fifths of Erin Since Sowin, until now, when Spring begins. And I have slain one warrior at a ford Each day, or else each night one hundred men. The Faith of Men has not been kept with me In single combat at the battle-ford; For they sent many men to fight with one. They are bent willow-wands which hold my bratt Above me, that it may not touch my skin. They are dry wisps of moss which dress my wounds. E’en from my crown unto my soles there is No place whereon a needle-point might rest, Which is without some gash or hurt or wound. There is not on me e’en one single hair Without its dew-like drop of deep red blood Held on its point—save on my left hand only, Wherewith I held my shield; and my left hand Has thrice ten wounds. Unless they come to avenge These things forthwith, they never will avenge them Until the Breast of Judgment and of Doom.” Then Laeg led up the wondrous Leea Maha, Cucullin’s steed, who once from the Grey Lake On lone Slieve Foo-id had come forth to him, So that he cast his arms about his neck And wrestled with him, making him his own. (And now that steed would love him till his death.) And Sooaltim upon the Leea Maha, Cucullin’s steed, rode north to Avvin Maha, With warnings unto Ulster. When he reached The side of Avvin, he cried out the words: “In Ulster men are slain, O men of Ulster! Women are carried captive! Kine are driven!” Howbeit, he found not from the men of Ulster The answer which he would have deemed sufficient. And, since he found it not, he went yet further, E’en to the top of the high, girdling rampart Of Avvin; and he called the same words there: “In Ulster men are slain, O men of Ulster! Women are carried captive! Kine are driven!” And still he found not from the men of Ulster The answer which he would have deemed sufficient. For thus the men of Ulster were:—’twas gass To all of them to speak before their king Should speak; and to the king himself ’twas gass To speak before the druids who were with him Should speak. And Sooaltim went further yet, E’en to the Flagstone of the Hostages ’Midst Avvin; and he called the same words there; “In Ulster men are slain, O men of Ulster! Women are carried captive! Kine are driven!” Then Cathbad, the great Druid, spake—yet spake As one who still was dreaming:—“Who has slain?” He said, “and who has captured? Who has driven?” “Al-yill and Maev have come despoiling you,” Cried Sooaltim, “and they have seized your women, Your youths, your tender lads and little ones, Your horses and your troops of mares, your kine, Both milch and dry, your bulls, your numerous herds. Cucullin all alone has stayed and hindered And held in check the Four Great Fifths of Erin, Amid the gaps and passes and defiles Of Conallia Mweerhevna. In his combats They broke the Faith of Men with him. No man From Ulster goes to aid him or to help him. The lad was wounded. He is crushed and broken. They are bent willow-wands which hold his bratt Above him that it may not touch his skin. There is not on him any single hair Without its dew-like drop of deep red blood Held on its point—save on his left hand only, Wherewith he held his shield; and his left hand Has thrice ten wounds. Unless ye go to avenge These things forthwith, ye never will avenge them Until the Breast of Judgment and of Doom.” “The man who thus incites his own high-king Is fit for death,” said Cathbad the great Druid. “That which is said by Sooaltim is true,” Said Conor. “It is true,” said all the men In Avvin all together; but they spake As men who still were dreaming. Sooaltim, Because he found not from the men of Ulster The answer which he would have deemed sufficient, Went from them, then, in anger and great rage And very venomous ire and fierce wrath, And spake no further warning. It was then That the dear steed, Cucullin’s Leea Maha, Who loved Cucullin and who grieved for him, Reared beneath Sooaltim; but Sooaltim Rode on o’er the high rampart-mound of Avvin Unheeding of that sign. Then his own shield Turned against Sooaltim; and the sharp rim Of his own shield struck at his neck, and struck The head from Sooaltim, whereat the steed, Cucullin’s steed, the loving Leea Maha, Himself went back to Avvin; and the shield Was on the steed, and in the hollow shield Was the swayed head of Sooaltim. The head Of Sooaltim cried out the self-same words: “In Ulster men are slain, O men of Ulster! Women are carried captive! Kine are driven!” Then Conor heard the cry of the dead head Of Sooaltim. He rose and spake, yet spake As one who still was dreaming: he was dulled By his confusion in his Kesh and sleep. “That cry of lamentation is a little Too mournful and too great,” he said, “because The heaven is above us and the earth Is underneath us, and the blue-rimmed sea Is round us in a circuit. And unless The firmament with all its showers of stars Shall fall upon the firm face of the earth— Unless the many-furrowed, blue-rimmed sea Shall veil the thick-haired forehead of the world— Unless the earth shall break and yawn beneath us— I will bring back each of those captured women To her own place and her own Ulster dwelling, I will bring back each of those driven kine To her own stead and her own field for grazing, By victory of battle and of conflict, Of combat and of contest and of war.” And it was then that Conor saw his son, Finn-ha Faerbend. (And he was called “Faerbend,” “The Man of Horns,” because he used to wear Horns of bright silver on his head.) And Conor Bade him go forth to muster and to gather The men of Ulster; and he named to him The men whom he should summon; and he named In equal way the living and the dead: He yet was one part dream-blind, and was dulled By his confusion in his Kesh and sleep. He said: “O Finn-ha, go from me. Go forth To Conall Carna son of Avver-guin At Meedlougher; to Mend son of Sal-colgan Beside the white-bright Boyne; to the three sons Of Feeacna who own the Donn of Cooley, Namely, to Dawra, Ross, and Im-ha, south In Cooley; to great Connud son of Morna, Beside the Callan; to wise Avver-guin The poet, by the Bush in the far north. To Laery the Victorious son of Connud, By his own loch at Immil; to wise Finguin The leech of Finngower; to Cooscree Mend, The son of Conor, in green Innish Cooscree; To Foorbee Faerbenn son of Conor, at Seel On green Moy Innish; to renowned Cucullin The son of Sooaltim, on Moy Mweerhevna; To Owen son of Door-ha King of Farney; To Blai the brewy, in the Ards of Ulster; To Avver-guin of white-foamed Assaroe; To huge, thick-necked Munnrower son of Guerkind, From out of Mourne; to Kehern son of Finntan, At Carrloig; to great-spirited Folloon, Conor’s young son, who heads the lads in Avvin; To Illann son of Fergus son of Roy, In Gower; to strong Broo-aher, in Slawnga; To Shenca, the sweet-worded one of Ulster, In his own house; to Muridah and Cotreb And Shennel Ooaha; to the great queen, Namely, Findmore the warrior-wife of Keltar, In strong Dunseverick by the northern sea; To Rōhee, in bright Reedonn; to great Keltar The son of Oo-hider, in Doon Le-Glass; To Aerrga Ecbael, in his own Bree Aerrga.” These are a few of those great kings and princes And hero-chiefs whom Conor named that day. But many more he named. Not difficult Indeed to Finn-ha was that mustering, That congregating and that war-assembling, Which Conor gave to him to make. For those Who then were west or north or east of Avvin Came, without pause, unto the Green of Avvin, Under obedience to their ruling kings, And at the words of their own chiefs and princes, To serve this rising and this war of Conor. But those who then were south of smooth-bright Avvin, Went without pause along the track and road Of the great hosts of the Four Fifths of Erin. The first day’s travel which the men of Ulster Made around Conor brought them ere night fell To high Ardcullin. “Wherefore halt we here, O men?” said Conor. “We halt here,” said they, “Awaiting thy two sons, Feeaha, namely, And Feeacna, who went from us to Tara, To fetch therefrom thy little grandson Erc, The son of Fedilmid, the Blooming One, Thy daughter. For, although he be the son Of Carpry Neea Faer, of Al-yill’s brother, Who sides with Maev upon this war and hosting, They ask him now to come, with the full strength Which he can muster forth on this occasion, To help his mother’s father.” Conor said: “I will no longer halt upon Ardcullin; Because the men of Erin have not heard That I have risen from that darkening pain And Kesh wherein we were; they have not heard That I am yet alive after that pain.” And it was then that Conor son of Fahtna And Keltar son of Oo-hider went forward With three times fifty well-armed chariot-heroes, Till they reached Ath Neermeeda. Nigh that ford They saw eight twenties of huge, powerful men Of the especial folk of Maev and Al-yill; And with them were eight twenties of the women Of Ulster in hard bondage and oppression. This was their share of the rich spoil of Ulster:— A woman in the hand of every man. Conor and Keltar took from those huge men Their eight times twenty heads; and they delivered Those women from their bondage and oppression. After that time, that ford was called Ath Fayna, “Ford of the Warriors,” because thus the warriors Of east and west encountered there that day. Conor and Keltar turned again and stayed On high Ardcullin nigh their hosts that night.

That night on high Ardcullin ’midst his sleep Keltar the son of Oo-hider was troubled And stirred by visions, and he sang these words: “Gather yourselves, ye warriors and ye heroes! A mighty battle will be fought by you. The heavy-sodded earth will shake with you. Thick showers of spears will be hurled forth by you. Deep, vengeful wounds shall be thick-dealt by you. Ye shall inflict horror and fear and dread. Ye shall inflict pale death and lasting shame. Gather yourselves, ye warriors and ye heroes! A very mighty battle will be fought Upon the fields of Gawrig and Ilgawrig At morn upon a day which now is near us.”

That night on Slane of Meath amidst his sleep Cormac Conlingish son of Conor son Of Fahtna Fahee was perturbed and troubled And stirred by visions; and he sang the words: “Wondrous the morn! Wondrous the time of meeting! Hosts will be mixed. Hosts will be turned in flight. Throats will be broken, sand and earth be reddened. The kings of Ulster will arise round Conor. They will contend for their own Ulster women. They will contend for their own driven herds, Upon the fields of Gawrig and Ilgawrig, At morn upon a day which now is near us.”

That night on Slane of Meath amidst his sleep Rough Duffa Dael from Ulster lands was troubled And stirred by visions; and he sang the words: “Great are the hosts—the hosts on high Ardcullin. Great is the morn—the morn on wide, fair Meath. Great are the hosts of steeds—the hosts of steeds Which shall be seen on the long road of Assal. Great is the fight—the fight not far from Clahra. Great is the battle-storm—the battle-storm Of men of Ulster round their king, round Conor. They will contend for their own Ulster women. They will contend for their own driven herds, Upon the fields of Gawrig and Ilgawrig, At morn upon a day which now is near us.”

And this indeed is truth, and not a lie: To men of Ulster and to men of Erin This night was not the calmest and the gentlest Which they had ever known upon a hosting, Or e’er would know in any time to come— Because of all the songs and prophecies Which they thus uttered in their time of sleeping, And all the spectres and the loathly shapes, And all the apparitions and the visions Which in the darkness and the doleful gloom Appeared to them amidst their sleep that night.