The trouble was just here. There were plenty of brave fellows, ready
to fight the monster, but nothing made of iron could pierce that hide
of his. This was like armor, or one of the steel battleships of our
day, and the Afang always spit out fire or poison breath down the
road, up which a man was coming, long before the brave fellow could
get near him. Nothing would do, but to go up into his lair, and drag
him out.

But what man or company of men was strong enough to do this, when a
dozen giants in a gang, with ropes as thick as a ship's hawser, could
hardly tackle the job?

Nevertheless, in what neither man nor giant could do, a pretty maiden
might succeed. True, she must be brave also, for how could she know,
but if hungry, the Afang might eat her up?

However, one valiant damsel, of great beauty, who had lots of
perfumery and plenty of pretty clothes, volunteered to bind the
monster in his lair. She said, "I'm not afraid." Her sweetheart was
named Gadern, and he was a young and strong hunter. He talked over the
matter with her and they two resolved to act together.

Gadern went all over the country, summoning the farmers to bring their
ox teams and log chains. Then he set the blacksmiths to work, forging
new and especially heavy ones, made of the best native iron, from the
mines, for which Wales is still famous.

Meanwhile, the lovely maiden arrayed herself in her prettiest clothes,
dressed her hair in the most enticing way, hanging a white blossom on