‘Well,’ said the robin, ‘there’s only one thing we can do, we’ll go and see Mr Owl and he’ll tell us what’s wrong.’ So all the wee animals forgot about being bad to each other, they all went together to the old hollow oak tree. There sitting in the tree was Mr Owl. So they told him their story.
And the owl said, ‘Yes, I believe it,’ and he listened to what they had to say. ‘Well,’ Mr Owl said, ‘ladies and gentlemen and friends, I know we are here today, and we’re all enemies and we’re all friends. But the dearest friend we have is ill. And there’s something we must do about it.’
So the robin said, ‘Mr Owl, tell us what we’ve got to do! We know we miss him and we love him dearly. We know he’s not missed in the village, they’ll only miss his firewood. But we can’t live without him! What can we do?’
‘Well,’ says the owl, ‘you, Mr Robin, being spokesman for the crowd, the only thing you can go and do – we must get a message to Our Lady, send a message to Our Lady and tell her! I have seen him and he comes every day, he sits by the lakeside and tries his best to encourage Our Lady to come and see him! But she never pays any attention to him. I’ve watched him from my tree up here, watched him coming day out and day in trying to entice her with pieces and everything you could ask for. He is in love with Our Lady of the Lake and she doesn’t want anything to do with him!’
So all the little creatures gathered round together and they hummed and hawed and talked about it to each other. They said, ‘Well, Mr Owl, what is it we can do?’
‘Well,’ the owl said, ‘the only thing we can do is send a message and tell her that she is hurting us and disturbing us by being unkind to our little friend! Can she come and see him, so he will know that everything’s all right? Probably it will make him well again.’
‘But,’ the robin said, ‘I can’t go out into the lake, fly out there and tell her!’
‘Aha,’ said the owl, ‘that’s no trouble! Call on our friend Mr Swallow. He is the man that can deliver any message, all over the world he can deliver messages!’
So they called on the swallow. He came in and they told him the story. ‘Swallow,’ they said, ‘would you be kind enough to go out to The Lady in the Lake, Our Dearest Lady whom we all love and admire, and tell her the story we’re going to tell you: our little friend, the hunchback, whom we love and admire and adore, is ill in his little cabin in the forest, is ill and sick! And there’s nothing we can do, that she is the only one who can come and help him!’
‘Gladly!’ said the swallow. ‘I’ll gladly do that because he also is good tome. I enjoy his company. Many’s the time he sits in the forest – not that I eat the food that he gives me – but I like the company he has around him.’ And just like that away goes the swallow.
The swallow flies out into the middle of the lake and he hovers above the swan. Now all the little creatures of the forest were sitting on the bank of the wee lake and they were waiting to see what happens. So the swallow stops, and while he circles he tells her the story. Then the swallow circles round and comes back. They all wait and wait and wait … and the swan turns. She begins to swim towards the bank. When all the other creatures see the swan swimming towards the bank they begin to feel happy! They know now that the swan has received the message and she’s going to do something about it.
So the swan comes in, steps up onto the shore and makes her way up the wee path to the forest. Step by step goes the swan, step by step right to the hunchback’s cabin, pushes the door with her beak and the door opens. And all the little creatures of the forest gather round! There’s some trying to keek through the windows.
Inside the hunchback is lying on his back quiet and still, not a movement from him lying still on his bed. As ugly as sin. And the robin goes to the window – he’s the only one that can fly up to the window – and all the other little creatures are sitting on the ground. And they’re shouting up to him, ‘What is she doing now?’
And the robin’s flying up and flapping at the window (he couldn’t stop, you see), he’s shouting back to them, ‘She’s coming through the door!’
‘What else, Robin?’
‘She’s walking up to his bed,’ he says, broadcasting what the swan’s doing back to all the other creatures. Now the squirrel, the hedgehog, the rabbit, they’re all gathered round the wee cabin.
So the swan walks up to the bed and she looks. There’s the hunchback lying on his back, pale as could be, ugly as sin. Sick as could be. And the swan looks and the swan feels sad. She thinks back, ‘How often I’ve seen him sitting on the bank casting the bits of pieces on the water for me to get. He could never hurt me,’ she said to herself, ‘he never meant to hurt me in any way. Why is it that I thought so often he would do me an injury?’
And the swan goes up. She reaches her neck across his neck – her long slender neck that the hunchback loved so much – and she lays her neck across the hunchback’s. The minute she did that the hunchback opened his eyes and he looked – he saw the swan. And he put his hands around the swan’s neck.
The robin says, ‘The swan has finally accepted him! And he’s cuddling the swan,’ passing the words back to the wee animals all around the cabin.
And they say, ‘He cuddles the swan, he cuddles the swan, the swan is accepting him! Our Lady, Our Lady’s accepting him! Now perhaps he will be well!’
After the hunchback opens his eyes, sees the swan and pets her neck, he sits up in bed and says to himself, ‘It feels so good …’
But all in a minute the swan turns round her beak and picks a feather from her wing and holds it up … she takes it and pierces it into the hunchback’s chest. And an amazing thing happens – the hunchback’s ugliness begins to disappear, his body stretches … and he turns into a swan!
And the robin’s watching at the window and all the wee animals said, ‘What’s happening now, what happened? Tell us what’s happening now, tell us what’s happened!’
The robin’s breast was so full that a lump came in his throat. The robin couldn’t speak because he was so happy. He couldn’t say a word but only twittered. And he sat down. And all the animals asked him to speak up and tell them what was going on, but the robin couldn’t speak or say another word, he was so full.
Then, all the animals gathered round the front door and the next thing they saw was two swans walking out the cabin door, one after the other. The one followed the other to the lake. And in the lake they went sailing away. All the animals gathered round, they said, ‘At last our little friend is happy.’ But the robin couldn’t speak. From that day on to this day the robin only repeated himself; he’s never said another thing.
So the two swans dwelt in the lake and the animals said, ‘Our Lady has finally found a friend.’ And from that day to this, the swan utters nothing. That is the story of the mute swan, the way it was told to me is the way I’m telling you. And that’s the last of my wee story.
1 set sail – set off on the walk
The Goat that Told Lies
My daddy used to tell us this one; aye, he told us dozens of times. This was a most fantastic story among the travellers and it has passed through the travellers by word of mouth, as far as I know, for some four hundred years, maybe more – from when the travellers began. When travelling people gathered around the camp-fire and the children were a wee bit annoying to their mothers and fathers, one of the fathers would say, ‘Come on, I’ll tell you a story!’ to keep the children quiet. The children would gather round and he would say, ‘What will I tell you?’ And they would say, ‘Daddy, tell us about the goat, the goat that told lies.’
MANY years ago, long before your day and mine, there lived a woodcutter in the forest and he had three sons. He and his wife depended on what little money they could make from cutting the trees in the forest but they had a contract with the laird that they wouldn’t cut any green trees, only what was blown down with the wind, or dead wood. This old man and his sons used to go into the forest every morning and cut all this wood and
they didn’t have a pony to take the wood from the forest, they hurled it with a hand-cart. It was a long way into the forest but the sons, Willie, Jack, and Thomas, loved their father and mother dearly and helped them every way they could.
From where they stayed it was about a ten-mile hike to the village. The old man used to take the hand-cart and hurl all the sticks he had cut and sell them in the village for money. And once a month they used to go to the village for their rations, the groceries they needed to keep themselves, to survive in the forest.
The story really begins one morning, before the old man and his three sons went into the forest. The old man got up and had his breakfast, and he said to his old wife, ‘Well, Maggie, we’ll have to go again today and I think we’ll be gone for a while.’
‘Well,’ she said, ‘you know it’s lonely for me being here by myself all day. I wish I had something to keep me in company, a dog or a cat, anything, something to talk to.’
‘Och,’ he said, ‘don’t worry. You’ll be all right. If we get a quick load we’ll be back early.’
But the father and the three sons went on their way to the forest. They had a good distance to walk and when they landed at their work place in the forest the father said, ‘The best thing we can do is split up: Willie, you go that way; Tommy, you go that way; and Jack, you go this way. And if you come to any dead trees, just knock them down, put them in a heap and we’ll collect them later.’
So the boys said, ‘All right!’ to their father and away they went into the forest.
But the old man had chosen a part of the forest he had never been in before and he walked forward. He saw some dead trees and he said, ‘Probably I’ll get a better one farther on,’ and he walked farther in and farther in. He came to this large tree – it was dead right to the top. And he had his axe with him, he was ready to cut it, when right at the foot of the tree he saw this thing. It was a baby goat, a young kid. And the old man stopped, he looked.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘upon my soul! Where in the name of God do you come from, little creature – where did you come from?’
‘He-eh,’ the goat said, ‘ha-a-haah, where did I come from – that’s a long story.’
And the old man looked all around as if there was somebody else there. But he saw there was nobody. He felt kind of funny. He said, ‘Did that animal speak or am I hearing things?’ He rubbed his ears.
The goat said, ‘Look, Johnnie,’ (he called the old man ‘Johnnie’) ‘you might nae rub your ears or look for anybody else here in the forest – there’s nobody here but me!’
He says, ‘Goat, do you speak?’
And the goat said, ‘Aye, I speak. But I only speak to folk that I like! And I know about you and your wife and your three sons, and I know how you come to the forest every day.’
The old man was mesmerised, he didn’t know what to do. He said, ‘Never in my life did I hear a goat speaking!’
‘But,’ the goat said, ‘dinnae think I’m going to speak to your three sons! What kind of a woman is your wife?’
‘O-oh,’ Johnnie said, ‘my wife is the nicest old cratur – I’ve been married to her for sixty years and she’s the nicest old woman that God ever put on this earth.’
‘Ah,’ the goat said, ‘that’s good! I like that.’
‘Well,’ he said, ‘I can’t leave you here. I think I’ll take you back with me. My old wife needs somebody like you to keep her in company.’
‘Well …’ the goat says, ‘but I’ll tell you something, old man, before you go any further, I know about your three sons – Willie, Jack and Tommy – they’re out there in the forest not far from here cutting trees. But don’t think I’m going to speak to1 them because I’m not! I’ll speak to you and I’ll speak to your old wife, whatever kind of woman she is – I’ll make my mind up what kind of person she is when I get there.’
The old man says, ‘You’re a funny goat. But I like you, I like you a lot.’
‘And I like you too,’ the goat said, ‘I like you a lot. I think I’ll just go with you.’
So instead of cutting any sticks the old man picked the goat up under his arm and walked back through the forest. He landed in a clearing in the forest and he met his three sons, and they had all these heaps of sticks packed up.
Willie said, ‘Daddy, did you get any sticks?’
‘Oh, stop speaking about sticks, son!’ he said. ‘I got something better than sticks. I’ve got something for your mother.’
The boys said, ‘What is it?’
He said, ‘A goat!’
‘A goat, Father?’ they said.
He says, ‘A baby goat.’ But the old man never said it could speak! ‘I got a baby goat,’ he said, ‘this is the thing your mother’s been wanting for years, something to keep her in company. She can feed it and pet it and do what she likes with it while we’re out working in the forest.’
So Willie came over. He looked at the goat, and the goat gave him the eye. Jack came over and he looked at the goat, and the goat gave him the eye. And Thomas, the youngest one, came over and he looked at the goat, and the goat didn’t look very pleased at him.
‘So I’ll tell you what we’ll do,’ the father said, ‘you each take some sticks and carry them home on your backs and I’ll carry the goat. We’ll go home more the day1 to your mother.’
So the three young men carried a load of sticks on their backs and the old man carried the goat. And back home they went. But the old man couldn’t wait to get into the house, and while the sons were putting down the sticks he ran round and opened the door.
He said, ‘Maggie, Maggie!’
She says, ‘What is it, did you cut yourself or something?’
‘No,’ he said, ‘come here! Look what I got for you!’ And old Maggie looked. He said, ‘I got you a goat.’
She says, ‘What?’
He says, ‘I’ve got you a goat.’
‘But where, in the name of the world,’ she said, ‘did you get a goat?’
He says, ‘Wheesht – don’t say a word, don’t tell the boys! This is not the kind of goat that you find about any place. Maggie, this is a different kind of goat – this goat can speak!’
‘Away!’ she said, ‘Johnnie, a goat can’t speak. A goat can’t speak!’
And the goat up and said, ‘Aye, Maggie, I can speak. Take me in and give me a wee heat at the fire, I’m kind o’ cold.’
Oh, old Maggie’s eyes popped out of her head. She says, ‘Give me the wee cratur!’
Old Maggie got the goat, took it in her bosom and put it in beside the fire. She gave it a heat and the goat sat down beside the fire. She had the boys’ supper made, the boys came in and had their supper. They were tired. The old man and his wife had their bed downstairs and up the small stair to the floor above the three young men had their beds. So the three young men went away to their bed. Now, old Maggie was sitting at one side of the fire, Johnnie was sitting at the other side, and the goat was sitting in the middle.
‘You know, Maggie,’ he said, ‘it’s a funny thing … I wonder where that wee creature came from?’ The goat was sitting, its ears hanging down, not saying a word.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘you could ask where it came from – ask it!’
He said, ‘Maggie, it’ll no speak – it’ll speak to you, it’ll speak to me – but it’ll no speak to the laddies. It doesn’t want the laddies to know it can speak, and it’ll no say a word!’
‘Oh well,’ she said, ‘but Johnnie, what are we going to do with it? I can’t leave it in here by the fire all night because sparks might land on it, and it needs to go outside sometimes.’
He said, ‘Maggie, I’ll go out and make a nice wee place in the shed for it.’
So he went out to an old shed that he used to keep for his hens (he had no more hens because they ate them all when they had no more food), and he filled it full of straw and hay and he got a nice pail of water and he made a nice wee bed for the goat. And he put her down. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘you
sleep there, wee cratur, and we’ll take good care of you.’
‘Thank you, Johnnie, you’re awfae kind,’ the goat said. ‘And tell old Maggie I’ll see her in the mornin.’
So the old man went in. She said, ‘Did you take care of the goat?’
‘Oh,’ he said, ‘I took care of the goat, and it thanked me awful much.’
‘What did it say to you?’
‘It said, “Thank you, Johnnie, thank you very much for being so good to me, and tell old Maggie I’ll see her in the morning.”’
‘All right,’ said old Maggie, ‘I’ll see it in the morning all right!’ So the old couple went away to their bed. But old Maggie couldn’t rest thinking about this goat. She spoke about this goat, she said, ‘Johnnie, it’s just the thing I need here all day with me – it’ll keep me in company, I can take it into the house with me and I can feed it and I can look after it and I can brush it and take care of it. While you’re away – I’ll no miss you away in the forest all day now – I have somebody to speak to!’
So the next day old John and his three sons go away to the forest and Maggie spends her time with the goat. She and the goat become the greatest of friends. She cuddles it, kisses it, does everything with it. ‘Wee cratur,’ she said, ‘I’ll be good to you.’ And she called it ‘Nellie’. ‘Nellie, I’ll look after you.’
‘Well, old wife,’ she says, ‘I’ll love my life here with you and old Johnnie, but I’m no so keen on those laddies. I doubt1 they would be bad to me if they got a chance. They don’t look at me very pleasantly. I don’t like the looks of them, I don’t—’
‘Oh,’ she said, ‘my laddies are all right. They wouldn’t hurt a hair on your body – it wouldn’t pay them either to hurt a hair on your body – if I got them lifting a hand to you, it’d be the cause of their death!’
So from that day on Maggie and the goat became the greatest friends in the world. She loved it from her heart, and because she loved it and old John loved her, he loved the goat as much as he loved old Maggie. And every night when the boys went to their beds he carried Nellie in to the fire, where he put her down. Nellie sat and she cracked to them, she told them stories and tales, she told them everything – but she never said where she came from – not a word did she tell them about where she came from.
The King and the Lamp Page 7
