Scottish Folk Tales for Children Page 5

  Suddenly one of them looked up.

  ‘Who’s that peeping through the stone?’ asked Scantlie Mab.

  ‘A guest I have invited,’ replied Habetrot, who opened a secret door at the root of the tree. ‘Come in, come in!’ she called to the girl and her husband.

  The young laird had never seen such weird women; every one of them had long, drooping, swollen lips. He asked each of them what had happened to cause such a deformity. In reply one after the other they spluttered words he could not make out. He shook his head saying he did not understand what they were saying so they each took up their flax and licked their fingers and showed him!

  Habetrot stood beside the young girl, gave her a wink and called the laird to her side. She gave the girl her distaff and spindle and told her to spin. The lass licked her fingers, pouted her pretty lips and began to spin but the laird grabbed the flax from her hands.

  ‘You will never touch a distaff or wheel again my dear love,’ he vowed.

  She never did. All the flax grown on their land she took to Habetrot to be spun into thread. And so it was that the young girl kept her bonny looks, the laird was pleased and Habetrot and her spinsters were kept busy.

  The Puddock

  FIFE

  Once there was a poor widow who lived with her daughter. One day she decided to bake some bannocks, little flat cakes, for their supper. She got everything ready and told her daughter to take a dish and go to the well for some water.

  The lassie took the dish and she walked to the well but she found it was dry. There was no water! The poor lass couldn’t go home without water and she didn’t know what to do so she sat beside the well and began to cry.

  Then a wee puddock, a little frog, came a leap, leap, leaping from out of the well and sat down beside her.

  ‘Why are you crying?’ he asked her.

  Now, the lassie didn’t like frogs so she turned away but she said, ‘I’m crying because there is no water in the well and my mother needs water to bake some bannocks.’

  ‘Then stop crying,’ said the puddock, ‘for if you promise to marry me you will have all the water you need.’

  The lassie couldn’t believe the frog was serious. He must be joking! She began to cry again and the wee frog said, ‘All you have to do is promise to marry me.’

  ‘Very well then,’ she said, ‘I promise to marry you.’

  She heard water bubbling in the well, filled her dish and hurried off home as fast as she could. She thought no more about the frog until later that night just as she and her mother were about to go to their beds. There was a knocking on the door and they heard singing:

  Oh open the door, my hinnie, my heart,

  Oh open the door, my own true love,

  Remember the promise you made to me,

  Down in the meadow, where we two met.

  ‘Go and see who’s at the door,’ said the mother to her daughter.

  So the lassie opened the door and looked out. Then she looked down and saw the frog on the doorstep.

  She shut the door quickly.

  ‘Who is out there?’ asked the woman.

  ‘Hoot,’ said the daughter, ‘it’s nothing but a filthy yellow puddock.’

  ‘Open the door and let the poor puddock come in,’ said her mother.

  So the lassie opened the door and the puddock came a leap, leap, leaping in and sat down by the fireside. He began to sing:

  Oh give me my supper, my hinnie, my heart,

  Oh give me my supper, my own true love,

  Remember the promise you made to me,

  Down in the meadow, where we two met.

  ‘Hoot,’ scoffed the daughter, ‘would I be giving a wee puddock his supper? I don’t think so!’

  ‘Oh aye,’ said her mother, ‘give the poor puddock his supper.’

  So the puddock got his supper and after that he began to sing:

  Oh put me to bed, my hinnie, my heart,

  Oh put me to bed, my own true love,

  Remember the promise you made to me,

  Down in the meadow, where we two met.

  ‘Hoot,’ sneered the daughter, ‘would I be putting a filthy puddock to bed? I don’t think so!’

  ‘Oh aye,’ said her mother, ‘put the poor puddock to bed.’

  The girl bent down and picked up the wee frog and with her arms fully outstretched away from her she carried him and dropped him on the floor by the bed. She wiped her hands on her apron.

  Then the puddock sang again:

  Now fetch me an axe, my hinnie, my heart,

  Now fetch me an axe, my own true love,

  Remember the promise you made to me

  Down in the meadow, where we two met.

  Well she didn’t like frogs did she, so the lassie was not long in fetching the axe and then the puddock sang:

  Now chop off my head, my hinnie, my heart,

  Now chop off my head, my own true love

  Remember the promise you made to me,

  Down in the meadow, where we two met.

  The lassie looked at the puddock and she thought she couldn’t do such a thing for he was such a feisty wee creature who’d done her no harm.

  ‘Hoot,’ she said, ‘would I be chopping the head off a poor wee puddock? I don’t think so!’

  ‘Oh aye,’ said her mother, ‘do as the poor puddock says.’

  So she shut her eyes, lifted the axe and brought it down with a crash. When she opened her eyes to look for the poor puddock she saw a pair of feet. On top of the feet was a pair of long, strong legs. On top of those legs was the rest of the bonniest young prince that ever was seen. And he sang:

  Oh marry me now, my hinnie, my heart,

  You have broken the spell, my own true love,

  Remember the promise you made to me,

  Down in the meadow, where we two met.

  ‘Hoot,’ said the lassie, ‘would I be marrying a bonny young prince?’

  ‘Oh, aye,’ said her mother, ‘you must keep your promise.’

  So she did!

  Assipattle and the Giant Mester Stoor Worm

  ORKNEY

  Long, long ago when the world was still new, there lived a gigantic sea serpent so big that his body coiled right around the world twice, below the oceans. When he was hungry he opened his great jaws, sucked in the sea, everything in the sea and everything on the sea, deep, deep down into the twists and turns of his long body. The seawater ran down the beaches leaving great stretches of sand. When he was satisfied, hours later, he spewed out any rubbish and the seawater he did not need and this rushed back up the beaches. Anyone standing on a beach and seeing that would know that the Mester Stoor Worm was nearby. Sometimes he was not satisfied with food from the sea so he used his great forked tongue to reach out across the land sweeping whole herds of sheep and cattle into his mouth.

  Now one day the Mester Stoor Worm came to the lands in the far north. His enormous head rose above the sea like a huge island. It could be seen for miles and miles. The king was worried. The people were terrified. Only one person was not afraid and that was Assipattle.

  Assipattle was the youngest of seven sons. He lived with his father, mother and brothers on a fine farm and while there was always plenty of work to be done Assipattle did very little of it. He preferred to lie beside the big fire in the kitchen and so he was always covered in ashes, which is how he got his name, which means paddling in the ashes.

  His mother and father shook their heads over him and his brothers teased him and called him a fool, but they all laughed and laughed when Assipattle told stories late at night. These were stories of great battles and Assipattle was always the hero.

  When news of the giant Mester Stoor Worm reached the farm, Assipattle’s mother cried out, ‘What will become of us? The Mester Stoor Worm has to be fed or he will destroy the land. What will the king do?’

  ‘Never mind the king,’ said Assipattle, ‘I’m going to kill the Mester Stoor Worm.’

  ‘You!’ teased his brothers
, ‘you are good for nothing but lying by the fire and telling stories.’

  ‘You wait and see,’ said Assipattle. ‘I’ll fight the Stoor Worm and live to tell the story to my children’s children.’

  Just as everyone expected, the hungry Stoor Worm searched the land with his great forked tongue sweeping aside any buildings in his path. He licked up chickens and children and he munched and crunched whole flocks of sheep. The people were desperate. They went to the king and begged him to stop the Stoor Worm.

  The king summoned a spaeman, a wise man, and asked him to find a way to save the land and his people. The wise man thought and thought.

  ‘The only way to keep the Stoor Worm happy,’ he told the king, ‘is to feed him seven maidens every week.’

  The people were horrified but the danger was so great that there seemed to be no choice. The sad king agreed.

  So on Saturday seven maidens were bound hand and foot and taken to the rocks by the edge of the sea. The Stoor Worm raised his head, reached out with his forked tongue and in an instant all seven were gone. The people could not believe this was the only solution so they went to the king and pleaded, ‘Surely there is some other way to stop the Stoor Worm.’

  Once again the king asked the spaeman who thought and thought and by the time he had the answer he was trembling with fear, ‘The Stoor Worm will only be satisfied once he has the most beautiful girl in the land,’ he said, ‘your own daughter, Princess Gem-de-Lovely.’

  The king loved his only daughter above all else but he saw the grief and suffering of his people and with tears rolling down his cheeks he agreed.

  His brave daughter spoke up, ‘I am a princess descended from Viking blood,’ said Gem-de-Lovely, ‘and I shall do this for my people. May the great God Odin help me!’

  ‘You are a brave young lady,’ said the spaeman. ‘Maybe your bravery will be matched by some young warrior who will come to fight the Stoor Worm and your life will be spared.’

  The king knew there was only one chance to save his lovely daughter and he announced, ‘We must rid the land of the giant Mester Stoor Worm. I shall send messengers far and wide to proclaim that any man who is brave enough and strong enough to overcome this monster shall have the hand of Gem-de-Lovely in marriage.’

  And so messengers rode out far and wide across the lands of the far north. When the king’s messenger arrived at Assipattle’s farm the family gathered to hear the news.

  ‘I shall fight the Stoor Worm,’ said Assipattle immediately, ‘I’ve been saving my strength all these years for just such a fight.’

  Assipattle’s brothers laughed and shoved him out of the way and his father shook his head and said crossly, ‘Be off with you lazy boy!’

  But Assipattle stayed right where he was and listened.

  The messenger continued, ‘Thirty-six champions came but twenty-four of those turned and ran at the very sight of the Mester Stoor Worm. The other twelve are sick with fear and the king has no faith in them. As old and feeble as he is, the king has taken down the great sword Sikkersnapper, the sword of Odin, and he will fight the Stoor Worm himself. His boat is ready and huge crowds are gathering to see the battle tomorrow.’

  Assipattle listened carefully. The only way to reach the king’s Long House so far away would be to take Teitgong, his father’s magic horse. Teitgong could fly faster than the wind. However, the horse would let no one but the farmer ride him.

  ‘I’d like to see that battle,’ said Assipattle’s mother that evening.

  ‘We’d have to take Teitgong, for no other horse could cover that distance in time,’ replied his father, ‘but I have no wish to see our king eaten by a monster.’

  Now his wife dearly wanted to discover the secrets about Teitgong. For years she had tried to find out why no one but her husband could ride the horse and so that night she nagged and nagged her husband.

  Assipattle lay beside the fire with his eyes shut and his ears open and at last his father gave in with a sigh, ‘When I want Teitgong to stand I pat his left shoulder and when I want him to trot off I give him two pats on the right shoulder. But when I want him to gallop as fast as he can, I blow through the goose thrapple that I keep safely in the pocket of my jacket,’ he told her. ‘When Teitgong hears that whistle he flies like the wind.’

  Assipattle lay still and silent until he knew his parents were asleep. Then up he got and stole the goose thrapple from his father’s jacket pocket and crept to the stable. When he first tried to catch Teitgong, the horse reared and kicked but Assipattle only had to pat his left shoulder and the horse became quiet as a mouse. Then Assipattle mounted Teitgong, patted his right shoulder twice and they were off with a loud neigh and a great clattering of hooves. The noise woke the farmer.

  ‘Quick! Everyone get up! Saddle the best horses. Teitgong has been stolen,’ he shouted, waking up the entire household.

  Soon they were off after the stolen horse. It wasn’t long before the farmer was hard on the heels of Teitgong and he called out, ‘Hi, hi, ho! Teitgong whoa.’

  Teitgong drew up to a halt but Assipattle pulled out the goose thrapple and blew as hard as he could. Immediately Teitgong galloped off faster than the wind. He galloped so fast that Assipattle could hardly breathe, leaving his father and brothers far behind.

  They reached the coast just before dawn and came to a halt by a cottage in the sand dunes, high above the beach. Down below, in the shallow waters, Assipattle saw the king’s boat. Sitting inside the boat was a guard and far out to sea was a great mountain, the head of the Mester Stoor Worm.

  Assipattle left Teitgong and slipped inside the wee cottage. An old woman slept soundly on her bed and Assipattle crept to the fire she had banked up for the night. He took an empty iron cooking pot and into this he placed a lump of glowing peat from the fire. Carrying the iron pot, he crept back out of the house as quietly as he could, while the grey cat sleeping on the end of the old woman’s bed stretched and yawned.

  Assipattle made his way down to the shore and greeted the guard who was sitting shivering in the boat. ‘It’s a cold morning,’ said Assipattle as he set down the pot and started gathering some driftwood for a fire. ‘Why don’t you come and warm yourself?’

  ‘I would if I could,’ replied the man, ‘but I cannot leave the king’s boat unguarded.’

  ‘You’d better stay where you are then,’ said Assipattle. ‘I’ll just light a fire and cook some limpets for my breakfast.’ He began to dig a hollow in the sand as if to set the fire and then he jumped up shouting, ‘Gold! It must be buried treasure!’

  Assipattle started digging again, pretending to fill his pockets with golden coins. All the while he watched until, from the corner of his eye, he saw the guard leap out of the boat and come wading ashore. He knocked Assipattle out of the way and began digging furiously.

  This was Assipattle’s chance! He grabbed the pot with the glowing peat inside and ran to the boat. He was well out to sea by the time the guard realised he’d been tricked. The guard roared so loudly that the king and his men came running down to the beach and they watched as Assipattle hoisted the sail and steered the boat towards the monster. The head of the giant Mester Stoor Worm rested on the sea like a huge mountain and Assipattle knew he had to be in just the right place before the Stoor Worm woke up and yawned.

  He waited for the sun to rise and, at last, the Stoor Worm blinked and slowly he opened his great jaws and flicked his forked tongue. Assipattle steadied the boat and pointed it right at the gaping mouth.

  Then he felt the sea swell as the monster began to suck into his great mouth everything in the sea and on the sea including Assipattle and the boat.

  Before he knew it Assipattle was swept on and on down the Stoor Worm’s throat and beyond, into the long tunnel of his body. For mile after mile, he crouched in the boat as it was swirled deeper and deeper into the Stoor Worm. Then, as the tunnel became narrower and the flood of seawater became shallower, the boat suddenly stopped. The mast was jammed on the
Stoor Worm’s ribs and the boat was grounded.

  Assipattle jumped out carrying the iron pot and ran as fast as he could even deeper into the Stoor Worm. A glimmering light from the peat lit up the dark tunnel and before too long he’d found the creature’s liver. He wasted no time, took out his knife and cut a deep hole into the liver. Into the hole he tipped the glowing peat and then he blew. He blew and he blew until the peat burned and a small flame appeared. He blew and he blew until the fire took hold and then Assipattle grabbed the cooking pot, turned and ran. He had to return the pot to the old woman. He ran faster than he’d ever run in his life and clambered back into the boat just in time.

  On the shore the king and his men watched and a crowd gathered.

  ‘Look,’ shouted the king, ‘there’s smoke! The Stoor Worm is on fire!’

  The Stoor Worm started to feel mighty sick and he retched and he retched and he spewed out all that he had sucked in – the seawater, everything in the sea and on the sea including Assipattle in the boat. The flood of water was so great that the boat carrying Assipattle shot straight up the beach and landed high and dry at the foot of the sand dunes. Everyone ran from the rushing seawater and stood on the sand dunes high up by the cottage where the old woman and her grey cat had been woken by the roaring of the Mester Stoor Worm. They all watched, the king and his men, the guard, the old woman and at the back of the crowd, Assipattle’s father and his brothers.

  ‘Arrest that man,’ called the guard.

  ‘No!’ cried Gem-de-Lovely. ‘Look!’ She ran to Assipattle and took his hand.

  Billowing black clouds of smoke swirled from the monster’s nostrils.