Scottish Borders Folk Tales

by James P. Spence

  ‘Who has hurt ye, who has hurt ye? Tell me who has hurt ye, an I’ll come doon an gie them what-for masel.’ It was the auld fairy-wife herself.

  When hae heard this Parcie got himself up, crept away an slipped straight atween the covers o his box-bed. Hae pulled the blanket ower his heid an shoogled wi fright.

  ‘It was Ma Ainsel!’ yowled the brownie.

  ‘Weel, if that’s the case what’s aw the stramash aboot? What dae ye think ye’re doing disturbin me ower nothin but somethin o yer ain doing? Ye’ve nobody tae blame but yer Ainsel!’

  Just then a long scrawny hand wi long knobbly fingernails came snaking oot frae the top o the fireplace, an in a flash, cleeked a hold o the brownie an wheeched him back up the lum.

  The next morning Parcie’s mother couldnae understand why the bowl o goat’s milk hadnae been touched. What’s mair the brownie never ever came back tae her hoose, an she couldnae understand that either. But the biggest thing she couldnae understand was the change that came ower Parcie, for there after at night-time, when she had finished telling the stories she had tae tell tae her laddie, an having sighed an said, ‘Is it nae aboot time ye were away tae yer bed?’ the laddie would get up withoot any mumble or grumble an get himself away tae his bed. Maybe, she thought, the laddie’s just getting aulder an seeing sense, that tomorrow’s another day. But that wasnae it at aw. Parcie wasnae going tae sit up by the fire on his ain at night, because the next time thon scunnersome hand with its fingernail claws comes doon the lum hae didnae want his ainsel snatched away.

  THE KING O THE BIRDS

  A long long time ago, aw the birds o the world gathered together in the yin place tae decide who was going tae be the king o the birds. The process that they went through caused a great deal o commotion atween the different factions o the birds. It went something like this.

  A particular bird would step forward an announce tae the entire kingdom o birds, ‘I should be the king of the birds.’

  ‘And why should you be the king of the birds?’ asked any number o bird voices.

  ‘Because I’m the biggest bird.’

  An there was a muckle stramash atween twae birds ower who was the biggest bird. Whether it was atween an ostrich an a cassowary nobody could rightly say, for there was such a flurry o feathers. At the same time there was a biggish broon bird at the back watching untroubled.

  ‘But I am the biggest bird,’ continued the first bird.

  ‘Well,’ said the challenging bird, ‘How come my shadow’s bigger than yours.’

  But everyone shook their heids at this remark, an started laughing at the silliness o the second bird.

  Then another bird stepped forward tae address the crowds o birds. ‘I should be the king of the birds.’

  ‘And why should you be the king of the birds?’

  ‘Because I’ve got the longest feathers.’

  ‘No you havenae, I’ve …’ an there was a muckle stramash aboot that, whilst the biggish broon bird at the back watched on untroubled. Whether the stramash was atween a peacock an a secretary bird nobody could rightly say for there was such a flurry o feathers.

  Then another candidate bird put his case. ‘I should be the king of the birds.’

  ‘And why should you be the king of the birds?’ responded a gaggle o voices.

  ‘Because I’ve got the longest wingspan.’

  This time there was a right flap atween the South American condor an an albatross, whilst the broon bird at the back was non-plussed an didnae turn a feather.

  Then another bold bird stepped forward. ‘I should be the king of the birds.’

  ‘And why should you be the king of the birds?’ crowed a throng o birds.

  ‘Because I’ve got the biggest beak.’

  This time the stramash broke oot atween a toucan an a pelican, it got so bad that it almost came tae pecks.

  After a while o aw o this, an after a while mair, the biggish broon bird finally stepped forward.

  ‘I should be the king of the birds, because I’m the golden eagle and I can fly the highest. And what’s more I’ll prove it.’ An with that hae lowped intae the air an was soon up in the sky, sclimming higher an higher.

  Aw the birds were gazing up an they watched the golden eagle shrinking smaller an smaller as it flew higher an higher until it was less than a dot. The birds could still see him though because they have terrific eyesight an can see less than a dot.

  The golden eagle had flown higher than hae had ever flown before, but was determined tae fly as high as hae possibly could tae emphasise his claim tae the bird throne. Now way up there twae things started tae happen, the higher hae got, hae started tae tire, an the air grew thinner, as it does the higher ye go. None the less the eagle used every last ounce o his strength tae strain as high as hae could go. Just as hae had gotten as high as hae possibly could get, the golden eagle felt a ruffling on the back o his neck that crept on tae his heid. Then frae this ruffle piped up this little voice.

  ‘Ha, ha golden eagle, I’m higher than you, so I’m the king of the birds.’

  The golden eagle recognised the voice as the cheeky wee wren. What the eagle said tae the wren is not kent for sure, but that the eagle was angry, massively angry, there can be nae doot. An some say that the eagle was so angry that hae turned the sky blue with his language. An that is how the sky got its colour. After the eagle had given the wren an earful, hae shook an shook in mid-flight until hae managed tae shoogle that rascally wren frae its feathery grasp. An so the wren tumbled doon an doon an doon an doon, till the wren landed on its bahookie on the solid ground. Ever since that day the wren has had a tuft at its rear end just beneath its tail feathers.

  Wrens have since become common in maist countries in the world. It is such a happy bird the way it bounces aroond in flight. But if ye see a wren ye must salute, or bow, or curtsey, because the wren is the king o the birds.

  THE KING AN THE MILLER

  A long time ago there was this fella that had a mill, just as his father had before him, on the side o the Tweed, near Berwick, when that seaside port was still in Scotland. Yin day hae was oot at the side o the river, just admiring his mill, the way the waterwheel was being slowly turned by the current o the river. As hae appreciated this happy state o affairs hae began stroking his long white beard as was his habit.

  Just then the king came along on horseback an rode up tae the miller. Right away the miller feared that hae’d done something wrong tae offend the king. The king sclimmed doon off his horse an said, ‘Guid-day tae ye, miller.’

  ‘Guid-day tae ye yer majesty.’

  ‘How’s business, how’s the mill doing?’

  ‘It’s doing alright, things are ticking ower,’ said the miller warily, as hae felt there might be something behind the question.

  ‘Of course I’m in a position tae make yer mill do far better than just alright.’

  The miller said nothing an nodded his heid slowly instead.

  ‘I’ll come tae the matter o why I’ve come tae see ye then,’ started the king. ‘I’ve been thinking aboot yer bonnie daughter Rosie, an wondering if she was promised tae anyone perchance.’

  ‘As a matter o fact she is. She’s due tae marry William in the summer.’

  ‘Oh now, that is a pity, because I’d fair set ma heart on her, I wanted tae make her ma wife an queen.’

  Now, as the miller didnae want tae upset the king, hae felt again that it was wise tae say nothing.

  ‘Aye, it’s a great pity, a great pity indeed.’ The king appeared tae ponder the situation for a bit, but then announced brightly, ‘I’ll tell ye what, miller, why doesnae we have a wager. Aye, that’s what we’ll do. I’ll ask ye three questions, an if ye get them right then Rosie will be free tae marry her sweetheart William. But if ye get any o them wrong then I will marry Rosie masel. How aboot that, miller?’

  ‘The thing is yer majesty, I missed oot on a lot o ma learning at school, because I was always helping ma father with the mill, so I havena
e much knowledge for answering a lot o questions.’

  ‘Ach, dinnae worry, miller. They’re nae thae sort o questions, an there are only three o them.’

  The miller knew fine that it wasnae his place tae argue with the king.

  ‘Right then, miller, here is ma first question. Are ye ready?’

  ‘As ready as I’ll ever be,’ said the miller, doon-spiritedly.

  ‘Weel, here goes. Now then, how many stars are there in the sky?’

  ‘Oh jeez,’ an the miller fell tae the ground in shock at how difficult this question was. ‘How in the dickens am I supposed tae answer a question like that?’

  ‘Dinnae worry, miller, it’s easier than ye think. An I’ll gie ye a month an a day tae think aboot it. Now here is ma second question: How heavy is the moon?’

  ‘Oh jeez,’ an the miller got such a fright at how impossible this question was that when hae fell doon again, this time hae almost landed under the king’s horse’s hooves. ‘How am I supposed tae answer a question like that?’

  ‘Oh, dinnae worry, miller, it’s easier than ye think. An I’ll gie ye a month an a day tae think aboot it. Now are ye ready for ma third question? I suppose ye’re as ready as ye’ll ever be. Now, what is it that I’m thinking?’

  ‘Oh jeez,’ an when the miller’s legs went frae under him a third time, hae almost fell intae the waterwheel itself. ‘How on earth am I supposed tae answer a question like that?’

  ‘Dinnae worry, miller. These three questions are a lot easier than ye think. An after aw, ye have a month an a day tae think aboot it. I’ll come for yer answers then, an we shall see what we shall see.’ An withoot further ado, the king sclimmed back on tae his horse an rode off, as if hae didnae have a care in the world.

  For the miller though, it was as if hae had the weight o the world on his shoulders. How could hae ever answer the king’s three impossible questions? Rosie noticed the change in her father an brought the subject up during breakfast the very next morning, ‘Father, ye’re awfie quiet, what’s bothering ye?’

  ‘Nothing’s bothering me at aw, not in the slightest. It’s just I didnae sleep very weel last night,’ answered her father. Rosie still had her doots, but left it at that for now. Rosie continued tae be concerned for her father ower the next day or so, but whenever she asked aboot it her father would come up with some excuse or other, an wasnae very forthcoming.

  When next Rosie met up with her sweetheart, William, she said tae him, ‘William, I’m awfie bothered aboot ma father. Hae seems tae be fair trauchled aboot something, but hae’ll nae let on aboot what it is.’ William did his best tae console Rosie.

  ‘Dinnae fash yersel Rosie, we’ll get tae the bottom o this, dinnae ye worry.’

  Weel, as what happens when ye’re not looking forward tae something, the time goes quick, an very soon the month an a day were up. The king was due at the miller’s door, an so hae sat in his chair waiting whilst hae toyed with his long white beard.

  There was a brisk rap at the door. The miller got up an opened the door. There sat the king astride his mighty steed, ‘Weel then, miller, a month an a day are up, have ye got the answers tae ma questions?’

  ‘Aye, I have that.’

  ‘Weel, withoot further ado, here is ma first question: How many stars are there in the sky?’

  The miller tugged on his beard as if in contemplation, ‘There are,’ hae started, ‘thirty-seven trillion, four hunder an sixty-twae billion, seven million, four hunder an yin. An if ye dinnae believe me, ye can count them yersel.’

  ‘Ho, ho,’ said the king. ‘Ye’ve got me beat there, I’ll just have tae accept yer answer. Now, here is ma second question: How heavy is the moon?’

  Again the miller played with his beard as if hae was busy thinking. ‘Weel, each yin o ma sacks o flour weighs half a hunder-weight; there are four quarters tae the moon, so the moon must weigh yin hunder-weight. An if ye dinnae believe me, ye’ll have tae weigh it yersel.’

  ‘Ho, ho,’ said the king. ‘Ye’ve got me there, I’ll just have tae accept yer answer. Now, here is ma third an final question: What is it that I’m thinking?’

  The miller gave his beard a gentle tug, then motioned for the king tae come closer. The king, still astride his horse, leaned forward an doon, until his face was quite near tae the miller’s.

  ‘Ye’re thinking,’ started the miller, ‘that ye’re speaking tae the miller.’ The king started nodding as the miller continued, ‘But ye are in fact speaking tae the miller’s son-in-law, because I married Rosie last week,’ an with that William whipped the false beard frae his face.

  The king raised himself up again an started laughing, ‘Ho, ho, ho, ho, very guid, very guid. Weel ye have me beat hands doon. William, ye’re a very clever fella, an a worthy man for such a bonnie lassie as Rosie. I’ll just need tae find ma queen elsewhere.’ An with that the king aboot turned his horse, skelped its flank an was away.

  As soon as the king was oot o sight, the miller an Rosie came oot o their hiding places an the three o them danced with joy.

  THE LOCHMABEN HARPER

  A long time ago there was this silly blind harper, an hae decided that hae would away tae Carlisle an steal the Lord Warden’s wanton broon horse. But before hae set off frae Lochmaben hae said tae his wife, ‘For this tae work I need tae have a mare that has a foal.’

  His wife twigged right away an her eyes lit up, ‘Ye’ve a guid grey mare that can jump both high an low an run like the living wind; so away ye go on her back an leave the foal wi me.’

  So as his wife made sure that the foal was securely snecked in their stable tae keep it frae going after its mother, away the harper went tae Carlisle as quick as hae could. It so happened that as soon as hae entered Carlisle hae was met by the Lord Warden himself. As the harper had brought his harp, the Lord Warden invited him tae come intae the castle an play for the invited company that were gathered in the great hall. However, willing though the harper was, hae insisted that his grey mare would have tae be stabled first. The Lord Warden said tae the stable groom, ‘Away an take the silly blind harper’s mare, an tie her next tae ma wanton broon.’

  So the harper harped an sang tae the invited guests, an the music was that sweet that the groom forgot aw aboot snecking the stable door an before very long aw the nobles an aw o the company were fast asleep. The silly blind harper then took off his shoes an slipped softly doon the stairs an made his way across tae the stable. Hae counted thirty-three steeds in there. Then hae brought oot a colt’s halter frae aboot his person, an slipped it ower the wanton broon’s heid. Hae tied the halter tae his grey mare’s tail, then proceeded tae lead his grey mare, which in turn led the wanton broon behind her, ower tae the castle gate. An there, still tethered together, the harper turned the horses loose. O course the grey mare shot off like the living wind, towing the Lord Warden’s wanton broon behind. Away ower moors an meadows an doon dales the twae horses galloped, with the grey mare giving the wanton broon not a moment’s rest till it returned hame tae its foal. That swift o hoof was the mare that she was ower the border an back in Lochmaben three hours before daylight.

  When she got tae the harper’s door the neighing o the mare wakened his wife. ‘By gum, oor mare has a fair braw broon foal. Hold yer wheesht ye donnert auld wumman, the light is dazzling ma eyes, that’s bigger than oor foal has any right tae be.’ Then it dawned on her what she was seeing. ‘Mex-tae-mey, hae’s done exactly what hae said hae would. Weel I never.’

  Meanwhile, in Carlisle Castle the silly blind harper kept on playing his harp tae the sleeping men. An hae played an played his sweet music right until dawn. Only then as the day was stirring did the stable groom discover that the Lord Warden’s wanton broon was missing. Moreover the silly blind harper’s grey mare was missing also.

  On hearing this terrible news the silly blind harper started wailing, ‘Aaaawww naaawww! I’ve lost in Scotland ma guid broon colt foal, an now in England they’ve pinched ma braw grey mare as weel.’

&
nbsp; ‘Stop yer commotion ye silly auld harper an keep on harping tae sweeten oor sorry spirits, an we’ll pay ye weel for the loss o yer colt foal an ye’ll have a far better mare than the yin ye lost.’

  So the harper played an sang that sweet that hae was payed for the foal that hae never lost an three times ower for the grey mare intae the bargain. Such is the power o fine harp music.

  2

  THE BLACK BULL

  O NORRAWAY

  A very long time back there were three bonnie sisters, Janet, Chrissie an Maria. Yin day Janet, the eldest yin, said tae her twae sisters, ‘I’m away up tae see the spae-wife tae get ma fortune read.’ So Janet goes up tae see the spae-wife. The spae-wife tells her, ‘Yer face is yer fortune, an by the time the twelve bells sound tonight there will be a golden coach at yer door for ye. It will be pulled by four white horses, an a very guid-deeking man will be driving it. Go with him an ye will have every happiness in yer life.’

  So Janet hurried away back hame, fair excited, an sure enough, just before midnight the golden coach arrived for her an aw was just as foretold.

  The very next day the middle sister, Chrissie, decided that she would away up tae the spae-wife tae have her fortune told as weel. ‘Yer face is yer fortune, an by the time the twelve bells have finished chiming a silver coach will be at yer door. It will be pulled by six dapple-grey horses, an driven by a very guid-deeking man. Go with him an aw will go weel in yer life.’

  Chrissie came rushing back hame, but in her mind she just felt she was floating on happiness an excitement. Sure enough, just afore the bells at midnight the silver coach arrived for her an aw was just as foretold.