The instant they passed the holly a strange weakness came over
the heroes. Their fists seemed to grow heavy as lead, and went
dingle-dangle at the ends of their arms; their legs became as light
as straws and began to bend in and out; their necks became too
delicate to hold anything up, so that their heads wibbled and
wobbled from side to side.
"What's wrong at all?" said Cona'n, as he tumbled to the
"Everything is," Fionn replied, and he tumbled beside him.
The three sisters then tied the heroes with every kind of loop
and twist and knot that could be thought of.
"Those are whiskers!" said Fionn.
"Alas!" said Conan.
"What a place you must hunt whiskers in?" he mumbled savagely.
"Who wants whiskers?" he groaned.
But Fionn was thinking of other things.