Scottish Folk Tales for Children Page 2

  In the days that followed, people on the other side of the loch peered through the mists and sometimes caught a glimpse of a great black stallion hauling stones for the builder. No one knew he had a horse and no one knew of a black stallion in Sutherland. One or two people thought of the legend of the water horse but no one spoke of it.

  Finally all was ready and the water horse asked the builder to sit on his back. This was the real test of trust. Mounting a water horse was a dangerous thing to do. But the Each Uisge had asked a favour and made a promise and the builder looked into his dark eyes and mounted without fear.

  The builder and the water horse took all the stones to the depths of the loch and eventually the job was done. He had built a fireplace and a chimney and at last the poor wife was warm, and the water horse was happy.

  In all the years that followed the builder never had a fish snatched from his line, much to the frustration of the other fishermen. When times were hard he found fish on his doorstep. Just one or twice people saw a great black stallion hauling stones for the builder.

  That part of Loch Garve never freezes of course and now you know why!

  The Orra Man

  LANARKSHIRE

  Once there lived an orra man, an odd-job man, who worked on a farm in Lanarkshire. He did whatever jobs he was offered and he worked hard in order to look after his wife and two small children.

  One day the farmer asked the orra man to go to the moorland near Merlin’s Crag to cut peats and to lay them out to dry, ready to store for winter. So he set off towards the steep, rugged rock that folk believed was once the home of Merlin, the great magician.

  The orra man began to work as soon as he arrived. He dug into the peat bank with his special peat-cutting spade and made neat blocks of thick turf and stacked each one to dry. He worked so hard that before too long he had dug his way close to the crag.

  Suddenly he stopped.

  There was a tiny woman right by his feet. She was the smallest woman he had seen in all his life, standing no taller than his own wee toddling baby. She wore a green gown and red stockings but she did not wear a hat or a ribbon and her long, yellow hair was loose about her shoulders.

  The orra man stopped his work and leant on his spade, gazing in wonder at the little lady. He was even more surprised when she pointed a tiny finger and spoke to him.

  ‘How would you like it if I sent my husband round to take the roof off your house?’ she said crossly. ‘You mortals think you can do anything you like.’

  The poor man didn’t move. He just stared in amazement until she stamped her tiny foot saying, ‘You have dug up the roof of our house; now put it back instantly, or you shall regret this day.’

  The orra man was truly frightened. He knew the wee folk might cause great harm to men who offended them and so, without another thought, he set to work. He lifted each square of turf and very carefully put each one back into the exact spot from which he’d dug it out. He was very tired when he had finished and he looked over his shoulder to see if the tiny lady was pleased.

  She had vanished completely. He looked all around but he could not see where she might have gone.

  But now he had another problem – the farmer! He lifted his spade over his shoulder and trudged towards the farm and, of course, the farmer saw him coming home early and wanted to know if the job had been completed.

  The poor man stuttered and his hands were shaking as he explained about the wee woman. The farmer laughed but the orra man told him how angry the wee lady had been and how he had replaced her roof and the peats he had dug up.

  ‘I did not want her to bring bad luck to your farm,’ he explained.

  The farmer laughed even more, ‘I do not believe in ghosts or brownies or the wee folk. Things you cannot see do not bring you harm!’

  ‘But I did see her!’ cried the poor man wringing his hands in fear, ‘Let me dig for peats in another place.’

  The farmer was cross, ‘This is just a silly superstition and I will cure your fear. Take the horse and cart now. Go and dig up the peat and bring it back to the farm to dry out. By the time you have finished you will see I am right.’

  So the orra man had to return to his work, but with a heavy heart. He lifted all the peats he had so carefully replaced and loaded them on to the cart, all the while keeping a lookout for the wee lady.

  He took the peat back to the farm.

  ‘So where is your wee lady?’ laughed the farmer.

  The weary man shrugged his shoulders as he stacked the peat to dry. There was no trouble at the farm all winter.

  Spring arrived and the orra man helped the farmer with the ploughing and sowing the crops. He helped with the sheep and the new lambs. There were many odd jobs to do and he worked hard. He thought of the wee lady but there was no trouble at the farm all spring.

  Then summer arrived and the orra man was very busy. He took vegetables to market and thatched the byres. He milked the cows and mended fences. He helped with the haymaking. Sometimes he thought about the tiny woman.

  ‘Maybe I did imagine the wee lady in her red stockings,’ said the orra man to himself. There was no trouble at the farm all summer.

  Autumn arrived and the orra man was very busy indeed. There was the harvesting of wheat, and potatoes and turnips to dig. He worked so hard he had no time to think of the wee lady. Then one day, exactly one year after seeing the wee lady, he saw the farmer who called out to him.

  ‘I am very pleased with your hard work so finish up early today and take this can of milk home to your wife as a little present,’ said the farmer.

  The sun was shining as the happy man set off towards his cottage. He was humming a tune to himself as he passed close by the foot of Merlin’s Crag. Suddenly he felt very tired. His feet felt as heavy as lead and it seemed such a long way down the road before he would get home.

  ‘I will have to sit and rest a bit,’ thought the poor man, yawning, ‘I have been working hard since sunrise and I cannot keep my eyes open.’

  He set the pail of milk down in the shade of Merlin’s Crag and sat on the soft grass without thinking just where he was and soon he had fallen fast asleep.

  When he did wake up it was almost midnight and the moon had risen above the crag, casting an eerie silver light. The orra man thought he saw tiny figures so he rubbed his eyes and peered into the pale shadows. There they were again. A whole band of the wee folk dancing round and round him, singing and laughing. They pointed their tiny fingers at him and shook their little fists.

  ‘I must get home,’ said the orra man and stood up.

  He tried to walk away but in vain. No matter which way he turned or how fast he stepped out he could not leave the circle of wee folk that went whichever way he did. He could not escape. He was trapped in a magic fairy ring!

  ‘Why do you want to leave us, man?’ called out the prettiest wee lass. ‘Come dance with me and you will not be in such a hurry to go.’

  The orra man shook his head because he knew little of dancing.

  ‘I have clumsy feet,’ he said, but the wee lass reached up and took his hands.

  Suddenly he was no longer tired. He skipped and waltzed and whirled around as if he had been a dancer all his life.

  ‘I could dance like this all night,’ he laughed as he forgot all his worries.

  He forgot the pail of milk and his wife and his little children waiting at home. He forgot everything except how happy he was dancing with the wee folk.

  All night they danced and sang and laughed until the first pale light of day crept over the moorland. The farmyard cockerel crowed to greet the dawn.

  Instantly the laughter and dancing stopped.

  ‘Quick, we must away!’ they called to each other. ‘The sun is rising! Run, run!’

  The wee folk closed round the startled man and pushed and shoved at him until he was running as fast as he could. They rushed towards the crag.

  He saw a secret door open into the very rock face and before he could eve
n think, the wee folk had swept him along inside.

  He was in a large hall where all around him the wee folk went to rest on their tiny couches, tired after all their dancing. The orra man was tired too so he found a corner out of the way and sat down and though he was so large, there was plenty of room. Soon he fell asleep.

  When he woke he wondered what would happen next but he just sat, happy to watch the wee ones going about their secret chores. He saw many mysterious things. They were busy around his large feet as if he was not even there. They did not speak to him and he did not try to talk to them. He did not even think of escaping. He sat until he felt someone touch his shoulder.

  It was the little woman who had spoken to him a year ago! She still wore the green dress and the red stockings and her long, yellow hair was spread about her shoulders as before.

  ‘I have come to tell you that the turf that you took from the roof of my house has grown once more,’ she said, amused by the man’s blank stare.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asked her. ‘It takes years to grow back.’

  ‘That’s right,’ she said. ‘You have been here long enough for the grass to grow back over the ground you once dug up,’ and she held out a tiny hand to him.

  ‘Come. You have been punished for long enough and it is time for you to return to your home.’

  He got up and stretched his aching legs. It would be nice to go home he thought but he stopped as the wee lady pointed her tiny finger at him once again.

  ‘Remember us man, but promise never to tell a mortal being what you have seen here!’ she commanded.

  The man swore he would not betray them and suddenly he found himself at the foot of Merlin’s Crag in the bright sunshine and the wee lady was nowhere to be seen. He picked up the pail of milk that was still quite fresh and continued down the road towards his cottage.

  ‘Good Morning!’ he greeted his neighbours, who were setting about their early morning chores. Some of them turned away as if he was a stranger but others looked at him as if he was a ghost.

  When he reached his own cottage he stood at the gate and stared. His wee bairns were now tall, strong children. His wife looked at him as if he had returned from the dead.

  ‘I’ve brought you some milk,’ he managed to say.

  ‘Milk!’ the poor woman cried. ‘After seven long years you have brought us some milk! How could you leave us like that?”

  The orra man put down the pail of milk and looked back up the road. The wee folk had indeed punished him. He had taken the roof from their home and for seven years while their home was ruined his own family had suffered. All of them had suffered.

  He looked up at Merlin’s Crag standing tall in the moorland and vowed never to walk that road again.

  The orra man was happy to be safe at home, but late at night, as the years went by, he thought of the wee folk. He often thought of the little lady in her green dress and red stockings and he hoped she and her family were as happy as he was and that no other mortal had disturbed their fairy homeland.

  Tam Lin

  BORDERS

  Oh I forbid you, maidens a’,

  That wear gowd about your hair,

  To come or gae by Carterhaugh,

  For young Tam Lin is there.

  Child’s Ballads

  Once, in Ettrickdale there lived a young boy, Tam Lin. For hundreds of years folk have sung the ballad, but I shall tell you the story.

  As a young boy Tam Lin went to live with his grandfather, the Duke of Roxburgh, and when he was old enough he was given a beautiful white pony and his grandfather taught him how to hunt. One day they set off through the Forest of Carterhaugh, Tam Lin on his white pony with all the huntsmen and the dogs running ahead. It was so noisy, so exciting, and the horses ran so fast that no one noticed when Tam Lin fell from his steed. But the Queen of the Fairies was watching and she stole Tam Lin for herself.

  No matter how much they searched that forest they could not find Tam Lin and so the stories grew over the following years. Was he a mortal man or was he a fairy? Had the Queen of Fairies cast a spell over him? Some folk said he demanded a ransom for safe passage through the forest and others said he did not exist at all.

  Now the Forest of Carterhaugh belonged to young Lady Janet who lived in a castle nearby. Every time she looked across the fields to the forest she wondered about Tam Lin and so early one morning she brushed her golden hair and, wearing a gown of green, set off alone to see if she could find him.

  The forest was dark and there were no paths and so she called his name, ‘Tam Lin? Tam Lin?’ On and on she wandered until she came to a clearing and there was a well and beside the well stood a white pony. There were roses growing close by and she picked one and instantly knew that someone stood behind her.

  When she turned she saw a young man with the saddest grey eyes you could imagine.

  ‘Why do you take my rose Janet? What brings you here without my permission?’ he asked.

  Janet knew it must be Tam Lin and she replied, ‘I do not need your permission to come or go from Carterhaugh for my daddy gave me this forest. It is mine.’

  ‘Ah Janet, what you and your father do not know is that this forest belongs to the Queen of Fairies and you should leave. If she found you here I do not know what she would do,’ said Tam Lin. ‘I shall lead you safely to the edge of the forest and you should return home and forget me.’

  But she could not forget Tam Lin and every time she looked across the fields to the forest she wondered if he was happy there or whether he might want to leave. Janet and her ladies played ball in the sunshine and chess in the evenings while summer turned to autumn and the leaves on the trees turned to red and gold.

  One day an old knight offered to marry Janet and while her father thought this was a good idea she did not! There was only one person she would marry and so on the very last day of October she set off for Carterhaugh.

  This time it was as if her feet knew where to go and soon she reached the clearing and, as before, the white pony stood beside the well. Only two roses remained on the bush and as she picked one Tam Lin called out, ‘Why have you returned Janet?’

  ‘I have to know if you are an earthly man or if you are a fairy and I want to know if you want to leave this forest with me?’ she said.

  Tam Lin told her the story of how he was indeed a mortal man, lost as a child and stolen by the Queen of the Fairies. ‘And while I would come with you, Janet, I may not, for the queen has made me Guardian of this forest and here I must stay.’

  ‘But surely there is some way to break the spell?’ Janet asked him.

  He sighed, ‘Maybe on this night, Hallowe’en, the spell could be broken for tonight the Queen of the Fairies and all the fairy folk ride out to pay their dues to the devil with a mortal man. I fear this year it might be me.’

  ‘What can I do?’ Janet asked.

  ‘At midnight the fairy folk will ride out to Miles Cross by the town. The queen will be on her great black stallion, the king will ride a fine brown horse and I will be riding my milk-white steed. You must pull me down from the pony and hold me in your arms no matter what happens. The Queen of the Fairies will change me into all kinds of beasts. Hold me fast. Even when you feel I am a burning brand of iron, do not let go but once I am changed into a burning torch throw me into the well. Wear a green cloak Janet and wrap me in this and then I will be saved.’

  ‘I will be there,’ said Janet

  Late that night Janet wrapped herself in her warm green cloak and walked to Miles Cross at the edge of the town. An owl hooted softly and a fox stepped across her path. The north wind carried strange sounds and Janet shivered as she hid behind the ancient stone cross.

  Then she saw a shimmer of lights from fairy lanterns and she heard the jingle of tiny bells. The procession passed her. First came the queen on her prancing black stallion and then came the king on his proud brown horse. The third horse was milk-white and Janet wasted not a moment. She jumped up and dragged Tam Lin f
rom the saddle. They tumbled on to the ground and she hung on to him for dear life.

  All around, the fairies ran screeching and screaming and suddenly Janet felt herself being crushed. It was a great silver python wrapping itself around her and she tried to push it off when she remembered what Tam Lin had said and so she closed her eyes and hung on to that snake for dear life.

  The Queen of the Fairies hissed in anger and suddenly Janet felt herself lifted high in the air and she was holding on to the fur of a great brown bear. It growled and she nearly let go but she remembered what Tam Lin had said so she hung on to that bear for dear life.

  Poor Janet felt herself dashed to the ground and her fingers were tangled in long, matted hair and a hot, foul-stinking breath hit her in the face. She opened her eyes and she was staring into the jaws of a lion. She nearly let go but she remembered what Tam Lin had said and so she shut her eyes and hung on to that lion for dear life.

  Then she screamed. In her hands was a bar of red-hot iron and she knew she could not hold it. The tears ran down her cheeks and the Queen of the Fairies laughed but Janet remembered what Tam Lin had said and she cried out, ‘I love you Tam Lin,’ and she hung on to that red-hot iron for dear life.

  Suddenly the fairies were still. In Janet’s hands was a bright, burning torch. She remembered what Tam Lin had said and she ran to the well and threw the torch into the water and the steam hissed up and out of the steam stepped Tam Lin.

  Quick as a flash she wrapped her green cloak around him and he was safe.

  The Queen of the Fairies went white with rage, ‘You! You have stolen my bonniest knight,’ she said to Janet and then she turned on Tam Lin. ‘Had I known, I would have taken out your heart and given you one of stone!’

  Just then the sun peeped over the hill and the cockerel crowed. The fairies were gone and Tam Lin looked down at Janet. ‘You are a brave wee lassie Janet and you have saved my life. If you would have me I will be yours for evermore.’