Scottish Borders Folk Tales
Page 5
‘I’m sorry tae have disturbed ye,’ cawed the parrot, ‘but for three nights there has been a cat in the courtyard trying tae get in the window tae kill me. An I thought that tonight it had finally managed tae sclim in the window, but now I see it is only the shadow o a passing cloud.’
‘That was awfie quick thinking, an answer that guid an clever that it saves me explaining how wrong-heided an foolish I’ve been these last three days. An so I will gie ye a cage made oot o sperklin gold, an the door o the best ivory.’
‘An the cat, what aboot the cat, for every night its claws get longer an closer tae the sill?’ asked the parrot hesitantly.
‘Dinnae ye worry aboot the cat, hae will trauchle ye nae mair. Hae sleeps the longest sleep, where hae drooned six bonnie maidens. Hae lies deid in the cauld, cauld sea.’
4
THE LADDIE THAT
KEPT HARES
At the side o the Happertutie Burn, that trickles intae the Yarrow before it flows intae St Mary’s Loch, there was a tumble-doon cottage, where a poor widow-woman an her twae strapping sons lived. There wasnae much work tae be had at that time, an even less tae eat, so there came a time when the eldest son announced that hae was going tae go oot intae the world tae earn his fortune. On hearing this his mother said, ‘Aye, weel, whatever will be will be,’ an handed him a sieve an a cracked bowl frae the kitchen table. ‘Away tae the well for some water. The mair water ye bring back the bigger the bannock I’ll bake for yer journey.’
Just by the Happertutie Burn there’s a steep slope where the well was. Next tae the well was a briar bush amongst the rushes. But what the laddie didnae notice was a bonnie wee bird in the bush singing tae the blue sky up yonder. The minute the wee bird saw the laddie with the sieve an the bowl hae changed his song.
Stop it with fog, an clag it with clay,
and that’ll carry the water away.
‘Away ye go ye stupid wee birdie. Do ye think I’m going tae dirty ma hands just because ye tell me tae?’
The bird flew away. O course the water just run oot o the sieve every time the laddie pulled the sieve oot o the well, an the cracked bowl wasnae very much better, an so the laddie hurried back tae his mother as fast as hae could with only drips on the mesh o the sieve an only a wee drop o water in the bowl. On seeing such a wee drop o water the widow-woman just sighed, an was only able tae make him a wee bannock with oatmeal.
When the bannock had cooled the laddie was in such a rush tae get going hae didnae hang aroond for his mother’s blessing an neither did hae even say cheerio tae his brother.
Hae strode through the birch trees an ower the Yarrow Hills. When hae got tired hae stopped under a birch tree on the side o a hill tae rest. Hae then pulled oot the wee bannock, an was just aboot tae take a bite oot o it when a wee bird fluttered doon an landed on a branch beside him. ‘Gie me a bite o yer bannock an I’ll gie ye yin o ma wing-feathers so ye can make yersel a pair o pipes.’
‘Ye stupid wee birdie, what do I want with a pair o pipes when I’m off tae find ma fortune. It’s yer silly fault I’ve got such a tottie-wee bannock. There’s hardly enough for me, let alone waste it on the likes o ye. Howts, away with ye an take yer bad luck with ye.’ The bird flew off an the laddie ate his bannock.
On hae walked through birches an ower the hills o Yarrow, until by an by hae came tae a hoose where a king happened tae live. ‘This will do me,’ said the laddie tae himself, an in hae walked an asked if there was any work for a strapping lad such as himself.
‘What can ye do?’ asked the king.
‘Oh, I can look after the coos, take oot the ashes an sweep the floor.’
‘I see,’ said the king, ‘and do ye think ye could look after hares?’
The laddie considered this, an thought that if hae could look after sheep an cattle hae could surely look after hares. ‘Aye, I can look after hares.’
‘Grand,’ said the king rubbing his hands together, ‘tomorrow ye’ll have ma hares tae look after. If ye bring them back safe an sound at night ye’ll get tae marry ma daughter.’
‘Suits me just fine,’ said the laddie, thinking how easy it was going tae be tae earn his fortune an marry a princess intae the bargain.
‘But if ye doesnae bring them back safely I’ll hang ye by the neck the very next day.’
The laddie didnae like the sound o this, but hae’d given his word tae the king so hae couldnae very weel go back on it now. The king didnae mention anything aboot supper but instead showed the laddie tae his room. Hae slept as sound as could be.
The laddie woke early the next morning an jumped intae his claes an made his way quickly doon the stairs in the hope o being given some breakfast. Alas the king had already finished off aw the breakfast that there had been, the porridge, the bannocks an aw o the ale. Aw the laddie was offered was a mere cup o water.
‘When ye’ve drunk that I want ye tae get away doon tae the Auld Dyke Field where ma hares are playing. Look after them for me an bring them back safe at night an put them in the barn.’
So off went the laddie, grumbling tae himself as hae went, ‘What a way tae treat a laddie that’s going tae marry a princess. I mean I only had a tottie-wee bannock tae eat on ma travels yesterday, an not a morsel this morning.’
When the laddie got tae the Auld Dyke Field hae saw the hares playing in the long grass. Hae counted twenty-four hares, an then hae noticed another hare, a wee yin with a hoppilly leg. Hae chased after the hares, an they immediately scattered, aw except the wee yin with the hoppilly leg, which hae quickly caught by the lugs. Hae skinned it an roasted it ower a fire. Then after eating the wee hare hae fell fast asleep an didnae waken till many hours later tae immediately see that the sun had gone doon tae just above the trees.
The laddie quickly roused himself an chased after the hares, but the hares scattered even faster than before, having seen what hae done tae the wee hare with the hoppilly leg.
Sometime later hae arrived wearily back at the king’s hoose. The king immediately asked o him, ‘Did ye look after ma hares?’
‘Aye, I looked after yer hares.’
‘And did ye bring them back an put them in ma barn?’
‘Nae, I wasnae able tae bring them back …’
So that was the laddie hanged by the neck the very next morning.
A year after the laddie had left the wee cottage next tae the Happertutie Burn his younger brother approached his mother an said tae her that it was aboot time hae went oot intae the world tae earn his fortune. On hearing this his mother said, ‘Aye, weel, whatever will be will be,’ an handed him a sieve an a cracked bowl frae the kitchen table. ‘Away tae the well for some water. The mair water ye bring back the bigger the bannock I’ll bake for yer journey.’
So the laddie took the bowl an the sieve an went doon tae the well by the Happertutie Burn. Next tae the well, amongst the rushes, was a briar bush an in it was a bonnie wee bird singing tae the blue sky up yonder. The minute the wee bird saw the laddie with the sieve an the bowl hae changed his song.
Stop it with fog, an clag it with clay,
and that’ll carry the water away.
‘Hey ma bonnie wee birdie, thank ye very much,’ the laddie said, an set aboot lining the sieve with moss frae the side o the burn, an filling in the cracks o the bowl with clay frae under the banking o the burn. Then hae filled them both with water frae the well an carefully carried them hame.
On seeing the amount o water her laddie had managed tae collect his mother was fair toorled an baked a grand big bannock with aw o the water an oatmeal.
Yince the bannock had cooled the laddie said tae his mother, ‘I’d fair like yer blessing along with the bannock.’ His mother sighed an smiled an gave him a big cuddle before watching him go.
Hae strode through the birch trees an ower the Yarrow Hills. When hae got tired hae stopped on the side o a hill under a birch tree tae rest. Hae then pulled oot the bannock, broke it in twae an put yin half back in his bag. Hae was just aboot tae take a
bite oot o the bannock when the wee bird fluttered doon an landed on a branch beside him. ‘Gie me a bite o yer bannock an I’ll gie ye yin o ma wing-feathers so ye can make yersel a pair o pipes.’
‘Ye’re welcome tae eat yer fill ma bonnie wee bird, cos it was ye that told me how tae fog the sieve with moss an clag the bowl with clay so that I could carry aw that water back tae ma mother.’ Hae broke off a bit for the bird, then halved what was left, put yin half in his pocket an ate what was left.
After the bird had pecked up every crumb the wee birdie said, ‘That was braw. Now, if ye will pull a feather oot o ma wing ye can make yersel a pair o pipes.’
‘Ach, I couldnae do such a thing tae ye. I wouldnae want tae hurt ye.’
‘Naw, naw, it’ll nae hurt me a bit. Just do what I tell ye. Now here, take yin o ma wing-feathers, an make yersel a pair o pipes.’
Not wishing tae offend the bonnie wee bird, the laddie started tae pull at yin o the wing-feathers. Hae was amazed that it came away so easily. The laddie then watched how the bonnie wee bird fluttered off intae the braw blue sky an was soon lost in the sun.
By an by hae took oot his knife, an carefully cut the barbs off the feather. Then hae cut the shaft in half an notched them both. When hae had fashioned the pipes hae put them tae his lips, an the tune that came oot as hae played was the same song as the bonnie wee bird had sung tae the blue sky up yonder.
Now instead o walking, hae danced tae the magical tune o his pipes as hae made his way through the birches an ower the hills o Yarrow until, at the hinderend, hae arrived at the hoose where the king lived.
‘Maybe this is the place I’ll earn ma fortune,’ said the laddie tae himself, as hae knocked on the door. Moments later the king himself answered the door.
‘I’m oot in the world tae earn ma fortune, so I wondered if ye had anything needing doing yer highness.’
‘What can ye do?’ asked the king.
‘Oh, I can look after the coos, take oot the ashes an sweep the floor.’
‘I see,’ said the king, ‘and do ye think ye could look after hares?’
The younger brother considered this, an thought that if hae could look after sheep an cattle, seeing tae it that they didnae stray, hae could surely look after hares. ‘Aye, I can look after hares.’
‘Grand,’ said the king rubbing his hands together, ‘tomorrow ye’ll have ma hares tae look after. If ye bring them back safe an sound at night ye’ll get tae marry ma daughter.’
‘That suits me just fine,’ said the laddie, ‘as long as it suits yer daughter.’
‘Ye just look tae yer ain sel an let me think aboot ma daughter,’ said the king brusquely. ‘And mind, if ye doesnae bring aw ma hares back safely I’ll hang ye by the neck the very next morning.’
The laddie didnae like the sound o this, but hae’d given his word tae the king so hae couldnae very weel back oot o it now. The king didnae mention anything aboot supper but showed the laddie straight tae his room instead. Hae took what was left o the bannock, broke it in twae, an after eating yin bit hae fell fast asleep.
Hae woke early the next morning an jumped intae his claes, making his way quickly doon the stairs just in time tae see that the king had already finished off aw the breakfast that there had been, the porridge, the bannocks an aw o the ale. Aw the laddie was offered was a mere cup o water.
‘When ye’ve drunk that I want ye tae get away doon tae the Auld Dyke Field where ma hares are playing. Look after them for me an bring them back safe the night. Oh an mind tae put them in the barn.’
Away went the laddie tae the Auld Dyke Field. When hae arrived hae counted twenty-four hares playing in the long grass. Then hae noticed a wee hare with a hoppilly leg. As hae watched them hae took oot the remainder o his bannock an hae ate every last crumb o it.
Then, wondering how hae might pass the time, hae pulled oot his pipes an started tae play. Hae played that bonnie that the hares stopped their games an just looked at him. Then they started tae dance, coming closer an closer tae him as they did so, until they formed a circle aroond him. An the air was filled with ever so bonnie pipe music.
Aw aroond an everywhere there was a magic stillness. The fish snoozled in the stream, water birds snoozled in the reeds, aw the critters o the fields snoozled in the shade. Aw was still an aw snoozled forby the hares at the playing o the pipes.
Aw day long the hares danced. It was only when the laddie saw the sun poised ower the trees in the west that hae stopped his playing. Only then did the hares stop their dancing. Only then did aw the other creatures stir frae their glamour.
‘Now we must away hame,’ said the laddie, putting his pipes in his pocket. Hae wondered how hae might get the hares tae go with him. Hae got up anyway an took a few steps, an found that the hares were following him. But then hae saw the wee hare with the hoppilly leg. Hae felt sorry for it an so lifted it up an put it inside his jacket tae keep it warm. As hae patted its heid an stroked its lugs hae gazed intae its muckle broon eyes, an couldnae help thinking that they were the maist beautiful eyes hae had ever seen. The laddie walked on an the twenty-four hares seemed very happy tae follow him given that hae was looking after the wee hare with the hoppilly leg.
When hae arrived back at the hoose the king asked him, ‘Weel, did ye look after ma hares?’
‘Aye, I did that.’
‘An did ye bring them back an put them in the barn?’
‘Aye, I did.’
‘Away an fetch them for me.’
The laddie duly brought the twenty-four hares tae the king.
‘That’s fine, fine, but what did ye do with the other hare?’
‘I took the wee yin with the hoppilly leg up the stairs an put her in ma bed tae keep her warm.’
‘Away an fetch her for me.’
The laddie went up the stairs tae his room, but there was nae hare in his bed aw. For in its place was a lassie with long shiny hair an the maist bonnie broon eyes hae’d seen in aw his days. Hae brought the lassie doon the stairs tae the king.
‘Weel laddie, it seems as if ye’ve lost a hare an found a princess,’ said the king, fair toorled. ‘Ye’ll be married the morn.’
‘That’s fine by me, as long as it’s fine by yer daughter.’
The princess said that she thought she might like the laddie, but needed a wee bit o time tae think aboot it.
‘Maybe ye would like a wee bit o music whilst ye’re thinking?’ put in the laddie.
The king glowered at him. The laddie had nae idea that the king hated music, but it was too late, hae already had the pipes up tae his mooth, an the hoose was soon reverberating with the magical tune hae’d learnt frae the bonnie wee birdie. Aw at yince aw o the servants stopped seeing tae their chores an set aboot dancing, along with the twenty-four hares an the princess an even the auld king himself. An they danced aw night till the sun rose yince again. By now the princess had decided that she did have a liking for the laddie, an that she would marry him.
‘Weel,’ said the king fair pleased, ‘now that that’s sorted oot, let’s get this wedding on the go.’
‘What, now?’ asked the laddie.
‘Weel, there’s nae reason tae tarry,’ said the king, ‘now is there?’
‘It’s just that I’d like ma mother tae be there. She bides in a tumble-doon cottage at the side o the Happertutie Burn!’
When the laddie’s mother was sent for the king immediately gave her a wee cottage tae live in near tae his ain hoose. As for the laddie an the princess they had the grandest wedding, with guests frae aw ower Ettrick, the Tweed an Yarrow. Years after when the auld king passed away, the laddie that had looked after the hares ruled in his place.
NOTE – Although this story took place a very long time ago, that cottage at the side o the Happertutie Burn is still there tae this very day. Nae doot it is in a better state o repair than it was back then.
5
THE WATERS O LIFE
Yince upon a time there was a king who was that ill that hae
was dwining away. When the wise woman was sent for she said that the only thing that would cure him was the Waters o Life. On pressing her, the king learned that the Waters o Life could only be found in the well at an enchanted castle that lay in the middle o a derk stretch o water. On pressing her further (for such wise folk dinnae say much, having gathered the maist o their wisdom through listening), she said that such a place lay in the far off an chancie hills o the Scottish Borderlands. ‘It is a sad an barren land scoured by incessant winds that at the same time whisper o aw that yince was there.’ She then hirpled away before the king could ask any mair.
The king immediately sent for his three sons. Hae told each o them that they must cleek a flask tae their belts an set off at yince tae find the Waters o Life, because it was the only thing that would save him. So each o the sons cleeked a flask tae their belts, sclimmed on tae their horses an rode off north. They rode hard an they rode long until they came tae a crossroads by a burn. Here they spread oot on their separate ways. The twae auldest laddies chose the twae broad an daisy-strewn paths for themselves, leaving the narrow twisted path, that was overgrown with thorny bushes, for the youngest laddie.
The twae aulder princes on their pleasant paths soon fell in with such guid-natured company, an were having such a braw time that they clean forgot aboot the ills o their father an the Waters o Life.
As for the younger laddie, hae rode an wound his way like a needle through the coarsest cloot, through bramble bushes, under whin bushes, through bogs an the thickest o woods. It was a journey that awkward an testing ye might struggle tae remember yer name let alone have any notion o how far ye’ve travelled. By an by, however, hae finally landed up at the wee cottage o an auld man, who was sitting by the door as if expecting him. ‘Here now, ye’ve come at last. I thought ye might never get here. Ye have a long way tae go yet afore ye find the Waters o Life, so put yer horse in the stable an then come away an share ma supper.’