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Finn and his hound were away down the mountainside, and the boar was showing his fierce snout over the shoulder of the hill. Diarmuid unleashed Mac an Chuill, but the hound took one look and was gone with his tail tucked in behind. Diarmuid put his finger in the silken loop of his little spear and cast it full force into the face of the boar. But it made not so much as a scratch. So he drew his small sword and gave a smart heavy blow, which left the sword in two parts and the boar still unhurt.

'Alas,' cried he, 'Grainne told me this morning to take my large sword and great spear. To spurn the advice of a good woman, that is indeed a foolish thing.'

Then the boar made a charge that cut the sod from below Diarmuid's feet and felled him. The beast wheeled and made another rush, with his tusk he opened Diarmuid's side from neck to thigh. As he took this wound, Diarmuid got a hold on the boar and drove the jagged broken blade of the sword through the eye-socket and into the brain. The brute fell dead on the spot.

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