Scottish Traditional Tales

by A. J. Bruford

  CHILDREN’S TALES

  1a Dolly Ann

  MacDougall

  THE OLD MAN WITH THE EAR OF CORN

  THIS WAS AN OLD MAN who was going along this high-road, and he found an ear of corn on the high-road. There was a house close by there, and he brought it into this house and asked them if they would keep the ear of corn for him until he came back at a year and a day’s end.

  He came back at a year and a day’s end and asked for his ear of corn. They told him that the hen had eaten it.

  ‘Keep the hen itself for me until I come at a year and a day’s end.’ He came back at a year and a day’s end and asked for the hen. They told him that the cow had eaten the hen.

  ‘Well, keep the cow itself until I come at a year and a day’s end.’ He came at a year and a day’s end. There was no cow to be had. She had broken her bones on the ice when a girl was taking her out to get a drink – it was freezing.

  ‘Well, keep the girl herself for me until I come at a year and a day’s end.’ He came at a year and a day’s end and got the girl. He put her in a sack with a string round its mouth, and out he went. But the day was warm and the girl was heavy, and he thought he would go into the hotel to ask them if he could get a drink. But somebody came along and saw that the girl was in the bag. They let out the girl, and they put stones in the bag. He came out and picked up the bag, and the girl was heavier than ever. The day was warm and he was getting really tired. Anyway he came to this loch, and he heaved the bag and the girl and the stones and the whole lot of it into the loch, because he couldn’t be bothered carrying them any further.

  1b Kate Dix

  THE OLD MAN WITH THE GRAIN OF BARLEY

  DID YOU EVER HEAR about the story of the Old Man with the Grain of Barley? Anyway he was a bachelor. He lived with his mother. And apparently he failed to get a wife anywhere in the world and he made up his mind that one way or another he would get a wife. So he went and wrapped up a grain of barley in his handkerchief and off he went with it. He walked miles over mountain and moor but it was when night came that he saw a small light far away at the bottom of a glen. But though it seemed far from him it didn’t take long to reach and he knocked at the door. He asked if he could get shelter for the night. Oh, they said, yes, he could come in. And there was a woman at the door and he said to her: ‘Now keep this grain of barley for me. See that no harm comes to it till morning.’

  He went to bed and when he got up in the morning and the poor woman was giving him the grain of barley it fell and the hen ate it.

  ‘Oh if you’ve been the death of my grain, it’s the living hen for me.’ And away he went with the hen. And he carried on through the moor again until night came and he saw another light. When he reached the light he knocked at the door and he asked if he could get shelter and they said he could. And he asked them to see to it now that no harm came to the hen till morning came, and he took it away with him.

  When he got up in the morning and the woman was giving him the hen it slipped from her hands and the cow stood on it, and killed it. ‘Oh if you’ve been on the death of my hen it’s the living cow for me.’

  Away he went with the cow over the mountain and moor till night came and he saw a small light in the glen again. He made for it . . . and a beautiful girl came to the door, and he said to her: ‘Well now, mind and take good care of the cow so that no harm comes to it till morning.’

  The poor girl was thinking in the morning when she got up that the cow had better have a drink. However it was snowing a blizzard and the girl let the cow out, and it slipped and dislocated a hip joint and they had to kill it.

  ‘Oh well,’ said the man, ‘if you’ve been the death of my cow, it’s the living girl for me.’

  He took the girl home with him, and he had got a wife at last, and they say that they had a great wedding.

  I don’t know whether that’s true or not.

  2 Hugh MacKinnon

  THE GREY GOAT

  WELL, I WILL NOW TELL you the story of the Grey Goat as I remember it.

  One day the Grey Goat was going to the strand to get shellfish for her family and she left at home the three Grey-Speckled Kids and the Grey-Headed Billy and the Billy-Boy. And when she was going, she warned them that they must never open the door to anyone who came to the house until she came home. And she was going to put a mark on herself when she went; that mark was that she was going to tie two threads round her foot, a red thread and a blue thread, and if anyone came to the door they were to ask him to put his foot in under the door and unless they saw this red thread and blue thread on the foot that came in under the door, it would not be her.

  ‘And you will say to anyone who comes – “There was a red thread and a blue thread round our mother’s foot”.’

  And unless this was on the foot that came in under the door, the door was not to be opened.

  But, anyway, the Fox came. He put his foot in under the door and asked that the door should be opened. He said: ‘Here is your mother back again.’

  And it was then they said to him: ‘Put in your foot under the door, and we will know if it is our mother.’

  And he put his foot in under the door and there was no thread or anything round his foot. And they said:

  ‘O, that is not our mother at all. There was a red thread and a blue thread round our mother’s foot.’

  Anyway, the Fox went away and he went to the weaver’s midden and he got a bit of red thread and blue thread and he tied that round his foot.

  He went back to the house of the Grey Goat and he knocked at the door and he said that their mother was back now from the strand. And they said to him: ‘Put your foot in under the door and we will know if it is our own mother.’

  And he put in his foot under the door and sure enough there was a red thread and a blue thread round his foot.

  The poor creatures inside opened the door and the Fox got in and in the twinkling of an eye he ate all of them up, the three Grey-Speckled Kids and the Grey-Headed Billy and the Billy-Boy.

  But not long after, the poor Grey Goat came back from the strand and came home and there was no sign of any of her family. And she was overcome: she didn’t know what to do. And she went to look for them and she went first to the house of the Gull and she climbed up to the chimney and the Gull called from inside:

  ‘Who is that on the top of my shaggy, raggy little hut who will not let out the smoke of my little hearth while I am cooking my little bannock?’

  ‘Here am I, the Grey Goat, worn out searching for my kids.’

  ‘By the earth beneath you, and by the sky above you and by yonder sun passing by,’ said the Gull, ‘I have never seen your kids.’

  She went then to the house of the Crow and she climbed up to the top of the chimney again and the Crow called from inside:

  ‘Who is that on the top of my shaggy, raggy little hut who will not let out the smoke of my little hearth while I am cooking my little bannock?’

  ‘Here am I, the Grey Goat, worn out looking for my kids.’

  ‘By the earth beneath you and by the sky above you and by yonder sun passing by, I have never seen your kids,’ said the Crow.

  She went away then and went to the house of the Raven and she climbed to the top of the Raven’s house, up to the chimney again, and the Raven called from inside:

  ‘Rochdada, rochdada,’ said the Raven, ‘who is that on the top of my shaggy, raggy little hut who will not let out the smoke of my little hearth while I am cooking my little bannock?’

  ‘Here am I, the Grey Goat, worn out looking for my kids.’

  ‘By the earth beneath you and by the sky above you and by yonder sun passing by, I have never seen your kids.’

  Now, she did not know on earth which way she should turn, and she went to the house of the Fox. Anyway, the Fox took her inside and he had a great fine fire on and he was feeling very pleased with himself, and they were very friendly to each other, he and the Grey Goat, and he stretched himself in front of the
fire and she began to stroke his head with her hand [sic] and the Fox fell asleep.

  And the Grey Goat saw – she saw an old stump of a little rusty knife somewhere and she jumped up and seized this and she slit open his belly and out of the belly of the Fox leaped the three Grey-Speckled Kids and the Grey-Headed Billy and the Billy-Boy as much alive as they ever were, and she and they made off home and they lived happily ever afterwards. And I parted from them.

  3a Calum Johnston

  THE FOX AND THE WOLF AND THE BUTTER

  LONG, LONG AGO, when all creatures spoke Gaelic, the Fox and the Wolf were living together. They used to go around together to gather food for themselves, and one of these days they were beachcombing – just as people do here when the wind is right – to see what had come ashore. And what should they find among the tidewrack but a cask of butter.

  O, they were delighted and they brought it up and they said to each other:

  ‘We’ll hide it now till we get to take it home.’

  And they carried it up and dug a hole for it and buried it, and they went home. And next morning when they woke up the Fox said to the Wolf:

  ‘I’m going away today.’

  ‘Where are you going?’ said the Wolf.

  ‘I’m going,’ said he, ‘to a christening.’

  ‘O yes,’ said the other. ‘Very well then.’

  And the Fox went off and he was away for most of the day and when he got back the Wolf said to him:

  ‘Well, you’re back.’

  ‘Yes,’ said he.

  ‘What name did you call the young one?’ said the Wolf.

  ‘We called him Mu Bheul [“About the Mouth”],’ said he.

  ‘O yes,’ said the Wolf. And nothing more was said about it.

  Next morning when they woke up again, the Fox said again:

  ‘I’m going away again today,’ said he.

  ‘Where are you going today?’ said the Wolf.

  ‘I’m going to a christening,’ said he.

  ‘O yes,’ said the Wolf.

  And the Fox went off, and a good part of the day was past before he got back and the Wolf asked him:

  ‘What name did you call the young one today?’

  ‘We called him Mu Leth [“About Half”],’ said he.

  ‘I see,’ said the Wolf.

  And nothing more was said about it, but they settled down for the night and went to sleep and next morning when they woke up, it was the very same story with the Fox.

  ‘I’m going away again today.’

  ‘Are you?’ said the Wolf.

  ‘Yes,’ said he.

  ‘Where are you going today?’ said the Wolf.

  ‘I’m going to a christening,’ said he.

  ‘O yes,’ said the Wolf.

  And the Fox went off, and late in the evening he came back, licking his chops, and the Wolf said to him:

  ‘What name did you call the young one today?’

  ‘We called him Sgrìobadh a’ Mhàis [“Scraping the Bottom”],’ said he.

  ‘O yes,’ said the Wolf, all unsuspecting.

  And no more was said about it and they went to bed that night and when they got up in the morning the Fox said:

  ‘Isn’t it time now that we went to see about the cask we hid the other day?’

  ‘O yes indeed,’ said the other. ‘We’d better go. It’s time we got it home.’

  And they set off and they came to the hole where it had been hidden, and they uncovered the cask, and when the cask was opened there was not a scraping left on the bottom of it.

  Man, man, wasn’t this awful! The Fox – he was terribly puzzled that there was nothing left in the cask, and the Wolf didn’t know what to say, he was so puzzled.

  ‘Well,’ said the Fox, ‘this is terribly queer. Not a soul knew about this cask except you and I. Now,’ said he, ‘this is a terribly queer business and it must be one or other of us, and this is my verdict on the matter,’ said he.

  If I ate the butter and it was I

  Chiorram chiotam, chiorram chatam, chiorram chiù,

  But if you ate the butter and it was you,

  A galling plague on your grey belly in the dust.

  There was no great harm in the curse that the Fox laid on himself but there was plenty of venom in the curse he laid on the Wolf.

  3b Tom Tulloch

  THE CATS AND THE CHRISTENING

  . . . THE MOST O ALL THE Shetlan stories, they might seem silly, but they usually sarved a purpose, and this story ’at was telled aboot the cats and the christenin emphansised the need fir . . . wän person to be truthful an honest an upright wi the ither person.

  But this parteeclar stoary geed on to say ’at this two cats wis very, very friendly an very paully, and they güd every wey together, and they wir wän night ’at they succeeded in stealin a jar o butter. And they hoided it, but they didna hae time to brotch the jar that night, but they wid laeve it to some ither more convenient time. So they wir wän night a while efter yon ’at wän o the cats said ’at they were been invitit til a christenin. So shö güd, an shö wis awey fir a good long while, an when shö cam back again her paul axed her whit wis all gone on at the christenin, an shö of coorse hed a graet description o the christenin. And then the cat axed hir what they were caa’t this young kitling, an shö said ’at they wir caa’d hir Well-Concealed.

  So two or three nights efter yon this saem cat was been invitit til anither christenin. An the saem procedure wis fallowed, an when the cat cam back ageen the ither cat axed hir quhat they caa’d this kitlin? Noo she said it wis Top-Aff.

  So two or three nights efter this ageen then shö wis invitit til anither christenin! An when shö cam back ageen th’ither cat enquired whät wis the neem o the new arrival, and this time it was Half-Dön.

  An than the . . . cat ’at wis aalways sittin at hom wis beginnin to get a bit suspeecious aboot this. So the ither cat was invitit til a still farther christening. But the cat ’at wis aalways sittin at hom, shö shadowed her this night. An then shö discovered ’at shö wis teen the jar o butter oot o the oreeginal concealment place, an shö wis oapened it an shö wis lickit ir aeten nearly the whoale lot o it. An when the cat ’at wis aalways sittin at hom saw ’at shö wis been preyed upon, then shö got in a graet fury, and they jumpit in a fight, and they hed a moast lood-an-lawless fight, and they wir never freends no more whät wis efter o their lifes!

  (. . . ‘Well-Concealed’ wis the first een: that wis meant to say ’at shö wis teen the jar oot o the first hoidin-place and shö wis pitten it on . . . anither hidin-place. And then ‘Top-Aff’ shö wis gotten the top off o the jar; and then ‘Well-Begun’, shö wis gotten . . . into the butter an gotten it well startit,* an ‘Half-Dön’, that wis half-dön. But of coorse accordin to the imagination o the story-teller an the paetience o the bairn ’at they were tellin it til, it could ha’ gone on almost indefinitely wi different neems . . .)

  * Tom typically emphasises the ad-lib element, and in fact adds a name in the explanation afterwards which he didn’t put into the story.

  4 Tom Tulloch

  THE BOY AND THE BRÜNI

  THIS BOY ARRIVED hom fae the schül wän nyht, an his fokk telled him to go to the hill and ‘can the kye’: this meant to say ’at he had to go to the hill an see if the kye was all ryht and coont them, an if they were turn’t them fir hom, that he was to turn them back to the hill an select a good piece o pasturage fir them tö aet upon atil it wis time to tak them hom an put i the byre. So . . . his mither baekit him a brüni an pat in his poaket an sent him to the hill to look to the kye, to ‘can them’. An he güd to the hill an he fand the kye all ryht an he turn’t them up and lookit efter them an then he t’owt ’at he wid set him doon an aet his brüni. And this parteeclar nyht he wis fund the kye pretty near the Erne’s Knowe, an it was ipo the Erne’s Knowe ’at he’d set him doon to aet his brüni. An when he was takin the brüni oot o his poaket, the brüni haippen’t to slip oot o his haund, an he row’t doon the side o the
knowe. And the boy t’owt ’at this wad be a very good game fir him to hae a bit o playfer wi the brüni afore he ett him, an he row’d him up an row’d him doon the knowe different times. But they were wän o the times ’at he row’t the brüni doon the knowe, ’at he disappeared oot o his syht in amang a big clump o heather. And the boy wisna wantin to loss his brüni, and he was also curious to keen whar the brüni wis gone til.