THE WATER-HORSE (_Each Uisge_).
The belief in the existence of the Water-horse is now in the Highlands
generally a thing of the past, but in olden times almost every lonely
freshwater lake was tenanted by one, sometimes by several, of these
animals. In shape and colour it resembled an ordinary horse, and was
often mistaken for one. It was seen passing from one lake to another,
mixing with the farmers’ horses in the adjoining pastures, and waylaid
belated travellers who passed near its haunts. It was highly dangerous
to touch or mount it. Those whom it decoyed into doing so were taken
away to the loch in which it had its haunt, and there devoured. It was
said to make its approaches also in other guises—as a young man, a boy,
a ring, and even a tuft of wool (_ribeag clòimhe_); and any woman upon
whom it set its mark was certain at last to become its victim. The
cow-shackle round its neck, or a cap on its head, completely subdued
it, and as long as either of these was kept on it, it could be as
safely employed in farm labour as any other horse.
In Skye it was said to have a sharp bill (_gob biorach_), or, as others
describe it, a narrow brown slippery snout. Accounts are uniform that
it had a long flowing tail and mane. In colour it was sometimes grey,
sometimes black, and sometimes black with a white spot on its forehead.
This variation arose, some say, from the water horse being of any
colour like other horses, and others say from its having the power of
changing its colour as well as its shape. When it came in the shape of
a man, it was detected by its horse-hoofs and by the green water weeds
or sand in its hair. It was then very amorous, but the end of those who
were unfortunate enough to encounter it was to be taken to the loch and
devoured. However much benefit the farmer might at first derive from
securing one with the cap or cow-shackle he was ultimately involved by
it in ruinous loss.
The following tales will illustrate the character of the superstition
better than a lengthened dissertation:
FARMERS AND WATER-HORSES.
Stories to the following effect are common in Mull and the
neighbourhood:
A strange horse, which cannot be driven away, is seen all winter among
the rest of the farm horses. In olden times horses were little housed
during winter; the stable door was left open, and the horses, after
eating the little straw allowed them, went out to pick up what they
could. When spring work comes on the strange horse is caught like the
rest and made to work. Perhaps for greater security the cow-shackle
is put round its neck. It proves as docile and easily managed as any
horse could be. It is the best horse the farmer has, and is fat and
sleek when the rest are lean and ragged. It works thus all spring, and
in summer is employed to take home peats from the moor. It is placed
foremost in a string of three or seven horses, which have creels on
their backs, in ancient fashion, and are tied each to the tail of the
horse before it. The farmer rides the foremost of the team. On the
way it becomes restive and unmanageable, and sets off at full speed,
followed by the rest, towards the loch. Observing that the shackle has
slipped off, the man, in passing through a narrow gateway, plants a
foot against each pillar and throws himself off its back, or he tumbles
on the sands of the shore, and jumping up, cuts the halter of the
hindmost horse. Those that remain tied are dragged into the loch, and
next day their entrails or livers come ashore.
The most celebrated tale of this class was that of the son of the
tenant of Aros, in Mull.
MAC-FIR AROIS.
The heir of Aros, a young man of great personal activity, and, it is
said, of dissolute manners, having an opinion of himself that there
was no horse he could not ride, was taken by a Water-horse into Loch
Frisa, a small lake about a mile in length in the north-west of Mull
and devoured. This occurred between his espousal and marriage, and the
Lament composed by his intended bride is still and deservedly a popular
song in Mull. There seems to be this much truth in the story, that the
young man was dragged into Loch Frisa by a mare which he was attempting
to subdue and drowned. It would appear from the song that his body was
recovered. The popular details of the incident vary considerably, and
are of interest as illustrative of the growth of tales of superstition.
One account has it that a remarkably handsome grey mare came among
horses belonging to the tenant of Aros pasturing on the rushes at the
end of Loch Frisa. One day his son haltered and mounted it. The grey
stood quite quietly till it got the young man on its back. It then
rushed into the loch.
Another account says the young man found a mare in the hills, which he
took to be one of those belonging to his father. He caught it with the
intention of riding home, but the mare took out to Loch Frisa, and he
was there devoured by Water-horses.
A third account says the Water-horse was kept all winter, with the
cow-shackle about its neck, and remained so quiet and steady, that at
last the shackle was neglected. The son of the tenant rode it one day
to the peat-moss, three other horses following behind in usual form,
when it suddenly rushed away to the lake, and nothing was ever seen of
the youth or the horses but the livers.
A fourth account says, in spring a band of men went to the hill to
catch a young horse wanted for harrowing or to send to market. They
were unable to catch it, and next day Aros’s son himself went with
them. He caught what he supposed to be the horse wanted and jumped on
its back. The horse rushed at full speed towards the loch, and the
young man found he could not throw himself off. The horse’s liver came
ashore next day, the animal, it is supposed, having been killed by the
other Water-horses tenanting the lake, when they felt the smell of a
man off it.
There is still another account, that Mac-fir Arois was twice taken
away by the Water-horse. The first time, he managed to put a foot on
each side of a gate, in passing through, and allowed the horse to pass
on. The second time, a cap which hitherto had kept the horse, was
forgotten. In the terrible career of the steed to the loch, the young
man clasped his arms round its neck, and could not unclasp them. His
lungs came ashore next day.
THE TALKING HORSE AT CRU-LOCH.
This is a lonely little lake above Ardachyle (_Aird-a-chaoil_, the
height of the sound) in the north-east of Mull. A person passing
it late at night, on his way home, saw a horse with a saddle on,
quietly feeding at the loch side. He went towards it with the
intention of riding it home, but in time he observed green-water herbs
(_liaranaich_) about its feet and refrained from touching it. He walked
on and before long was overtaken by a stranger, who said that unless
he (the Water-horse, who was also the speaker) had been friendly
and a well-wisher, he would have taken him to the loch. Among other
supernatural information it told the man the day of his death.
ISLAND OF COLL.
At noontide, while the cattle were standing in the loch, the herdsman
near Loch Annla was visited by a person in whose head he observed
_rathum_, that is, water weeds. When going away the stranger jumped
into the loch and disappeared without doing any harm. People used
to hear strange noises about that loch, no doubt caused by the
Water-horse, which was the herdsman’s visitor.
THE NINE CHILDREN AT SUNART.
A number of children went on a Sunday to amuse themselves in the
neighbourhood of the ‘Loch of Disaster’ (_Loch na Dunach_) in
this district. They fell in with a horse, caught it, and in their
thoughtless sport mounted it. Its back got longer till they were all
mounted, except one, who had a Bible in his pocket. He touched the
horse with his finger, and had to cut it off to save himself. The horse
rushed into the lake, and the children, nine in number, were never more
seen. The liver of one of them came ashore next day.
This tale is widely spread, and is obviously a pious fraud to keep
children from wandering on Sundays to play in lonely places, and from
meddling with any horse they may find.
KILLING THE RAASAY WATER-HORSE.
‘The Woman’s Loch’ (_Loch na Mna_) near Dùn Can, the highest hill
in this island, derives its name from having been the scene of the
abduction of a woman by the Water-horse that haunted it. The big Smith
(_An Gobha Mòr_), who lived in the neighbourhood, resolved to kill the
horse, and by his success he earned himself the title of ‘Alastair
na Béisde’ (Alexander of the monster). He built a hut close by, with
an opening like the syver of a drain, leading towards the loch. When
he got the wind favourable, he killed and roasted a wether-sheep in
the hut. The wind blew the savoury smell towards the loch, and the
Water-horse, attracted by it, made its way into the hut by the entrance
left for it. The smith had his irons ready in the fire, and rushing
with them at the Water-horse killed it. On examination the monster
proved to be merely grey turves (_pluic ghlas_), or, as others say, a
soft mass (_sgling_) like jelly-fish (_Muir-tiachd_).
THE WATER-HORSE AT LOCH CUAICH.
Some thirty years ago, a small islet in this lake, of about an half
an acre in extent, was tenanted by a strange specimen of the Highland
freebooter, named Macphie. He was a deserter from the army, who at
first took refuge in a cave in the neighbourhood. He took away by force
a girl of twelve years of age, and, coming next day to her parents,
said if it would give any satisfaction he would marry her, but refusing
to part with her. A sort of ceremony of marriage was gone through, but
Macphie seems for several years to have looked upon the girl merely as
his daughter. Her first child was born when she was eighteen years of
age, and she had several more of a family. After his marriage Macphie
removed to the islet mentioned, and remained there undisturbed for
many years. He supported himself by fishing, hunting, and taking now
and then a sheep or goat from the lands surrounding the loch. Such was
his terror of being surprised by soldiers that he always carried arms
about him, and slept with a bayonet and loaded gun beside his bed. The
country people were afraid of him and he was commonly reported to be
not ‘canny.’ He was at last evicted by a south country farmer, when he
removed with his family to Fort William.
In his time a Water-horse was quite commonly seen in Loch Cuaich,
floating on its side, or as it is called, ‘making a film’ (_deanadh
sgleò_) and ‘making a salmon of itself’ (_deanadh bradain dheth
fhein_), disporting itself and then disappearing. One stormy night
Macphie, by his own account, was roused by a loud rattling noise at the
door, as if some one were trying to enter. It stood in the door and
Macphie knew it to be the Water-horse in the shape of a man. He fired
twice at it, but it did not move. He called to his wife to bring a
silver coin, and when he put this in the gun and fired, the figure went
away and was heard plunging into the loch. The people round the loch
heard three shots from the islet that night, for whatever cause they
may have been fired.
THE WATER-HORSE AT TIREE.
A man working in the fields in Caolas, in the east end of the island,
saw a Water-horse coming from _Loch an Air_, a small marshy lake,
full of reeds. He ran off in terror, and left his coat behind. The
Water-horse tore the coat into shreds and then made after the man. The
dogs came out when it came near the house and drove it away.
A son of one of the chamberlains of the island, last century, found
a horse on the moors, and being struck with its excellence mounted
it. The horse tore away at full gallop and could not be stopped. It
galloped all round the country, till at last one side of the reins
broke, and the horse rushed out on Loch Basibol, carrying its ill-fated
rider with it.
WATER-HORSE AND WOMEN.
A young woman herding cattle drove her charge to a sequestered part of
the hill, and while there a young man came her way, and reclining his
head on her lap fell asleep. On his stretching himself she observed
that he had horse-hoofs, and lulling him gently managed to get his head
rested on the ground. She then cut out with her scissors the part of
her clothes below his head and made her escape. When the Water-horse
awoke and missed her it made a dreadful outcry.
This tale, with unimportant variations, is known over the whole
Highlands. Sometimes the young woman is sitting on the turf wall
(_tota_) forming the end of the house when the Water-horse, in the
shape of a handsome young man, comes her way; sometimes she is one of
a band of women, assembled at the summer shieling—the rest are killed
and she makes her escape. She detects the character of the youth by the
water weeds or the sand in his hair. Many of the stories add that the
young man (or Water-horse) came for her on a subsequent Sunday after
dinner, or to church, to which (as in the story of the Water-horse of
Loch Assapol in the Ross of Mull) she went for security rather than
keep an appointment previously made with him, and took her to the loch.
In Sutherlandshire the scene of the incident is laid at _Loch Meudaidh_
in Durness, and the descendants of the woman to whom it occurred are
still pointed out. She detected the young man by the sand in his hair,
and on looking back, after she had got to some distance, she saw him
tearing up the earth in his fury.[60]
A Water-horse in man’s shape came to a house in which there was a woman
alone; at the time she was boiling water in a clay vessel (_croggan_),
such as was in use before iron became common. The Water-horse, after
looking on for some time, drew himself nearer to her, and said in a
snuffling voice, “It is time to begin courting, Sarah, daughter of
John, son of Finlay.” “It is time, it is time,” she replied, “when the
little pitcher boils.” In a while it repeated the same words and drew
itself nearer. She gave the same answer drawing out the time as best
she could, till the water was boiling hot. As the snuffling youth was
coming too near she threw the scalding water between his legs, and he
ran out of the house roaring and yelling with pain.
THE WATER-HORSE AT LOCH BASIBOL, TIREE.
On the north side of this loch, which has been already mentioned as a
haunt of the Water-horse, there was a farm, where there are now only
blowing sand-banks, called the Town of the Clumsy Ones (_Baile nan
Cràganach_) from five men, who resided there, having each six fingers
on every hand. They were brothers, and it was said the Water-horse came
every night, in the shape of a young man, to see a sister, who staid
with them.
With the tendency of popular tales to attach themselves to known
persons, this incident is related of Calum Mor Clarke and his family.
Calum had three sons, Big Fair John (_Iain Bàn Mòr_), Young Fair John
(_Iain Bàn Og_), and Middle Fair John (_Iain Bàn Meadhonach_). The four
conspired to beguile the young man from the loch, who came to see the
daughter, into the house, and got him to sit between two of them on the
front of the bed. On a given signal these two clasped their hands round
him and laid him on his back in the bed. The other two rushed to their
assistance; the young man assumed his proper shape of a Water-horse and
a fearful struggle ensued. The conspirators cut the horse in pieces
with their dirks, and put it out of the house dead.[61]
Not far from the south end of the same loch there is a place called
_Fhaire na h-aon oidhch’_, ‘the one night’s watch,’ said to derive its
name from an incident of which the Water-horse was the hero, similar to
that told of the Urisk of Glen Màili (see page 197).
THE KELPIE.
The Kelpie that swells torrents and devours women and children has no
representative in Gaelic superstition. Some writers speak as if the
Water-horse were to be identified with it, but the two animals are
distinctly separate. The Water-horse haunts lochs, the Kelpie streams
and torrents. The former is never accused of swelling torrents any
more than of causing any other natural phenomenon, nor of taking away
children, unless perhaps when wanted to silence a refractory child. A
Shetland friend writes: “Kelpies, I cannot remember of ever hearing
what shape they were of. They generally did their mischief in a quiet
way, such as being seen splashing the water about the burns, and taking
hold of the water-wheel of mills, and holding them still. I have heard
a man declare, that his mill was stopped one night for half an hour and
the full power of water on the wheel, and he was frightened himself to
go out and see what was wrong. And he not only said but maintained that
it was a Kelpie or something of that kind that did it.”
THE WATER-BULL (_Tarbh Uirge_).
This animal, unlike the Water-horse, was of harmless character, and
did no mischief to those who came near its haunts. It staid in little
lonely moorland lochs, whence it issued only at night. It was then
heard lowing near the loch, and came among the farmers’ cattle, but was
seldom seen. Calves having short ears, as if the upper part had been
cut off with a knife, or, as it is termed in Gaelic, _Carc-chluasach_
(_i.e._ knife-eared), were said to be its offspring. It had no ears
itself and hence its calves had only half ears.[62]
In the district of Lorn, a dairy-maid and herd, before leaving in the
evening the fold, in which the cows had been gathered to be milked and
left for the night, saw a small ugly very black animal, bull-shaped,
soft and slippery, coming among the herd. It had an unnatural bellow,
something like the crowing of a cock. The man and woman fled in terror,
but, on coming back in the morning, found the cattle lying in the fold
as though nothing had occurred.
THE KING OTTER.
The Water Dog (_Dobhar-Chù_), called also the King Otter (_Righ nan
Dòbhran_), is a formidable animal, seldom seen, having a skin of magic
power, worth as many guineas as are required to cover it. It goes at
the head of every band of seven, some say nine, otters, and is never
killed without the death of a man, woman, or dog. It has a white spot
below the chin, on which alone it is vulnerable. A piece of its skin
keeps misfortune away from the house in which it is kept, renders the
soldier invulnerable in battle by arrow or sword or bullet, and placed
in the banner makes the enemy turn and fly. “An inch of it placed on
the soldier’s eye,” as a Lochaber informant said, “kept him from harm
or hurt or wound though bullets flew about him like hailstones, and
naked swords clashed at his breast. When a direct aim was taken, the
gun refused fire.”
Others say the vulnerable white spot was under the King Otter’s arm,
and of no larger size than a sixpence. When the hunter took aim he
required to hit this precise spot, or he fell a prey to the animal’s
dreadful jaws. In Raasa and the opposite mainland the magic power
was said to be in a jewel in its head, which made its possessor
invulnerable and secured him good fortune; but in other respects the
belief regarding the King Otter is the same as elsewhere.
The word _dobhar_ (pronounced dooar, dour), signifying water, is
obsolete in Gaelic except in the name of this animal.
BIASD NA SROGAIG.
This mythical animal, ‘the beast of the lowering horn,’ seems to have
been peculiar to Skye. It had but one horn on its forehead, and, like
the Water-bull, staid in lochs. It was a large animal with long legs,
of a clumsy and inelegant make, not heavy and thick, but tall and
awkward. Its principal use seems to have been to keep children quiet,
and it is little to be wondered at if, in the majority of cases, the
terrors of childhood became a creed in maturer years. _Scrogag_, from
which it derives its name, is a ludicrous name given to a snuff horn
and refers to the solitary horn on its forehead.
THE BIG BEAST OF LOCHAWE.
This animal (_Beathach mòr Loch Odha_) had twelve legs and was to be
heard in winter time breaking the ice. Some say it was like a horse,
others, like a large eel.