An cuala sibh riamh mu'n tigh aig I----r
'S ann air tha'n deanamh tha ciallach ceart
'S iomadh bliadhua o'n chaidh a dheanamh
Ach 's mor as fhiach e ged tha e sean
Se duine ciallach chuir ceanna-crioch air
'S gur mor am pianadh a fhuair a phears
Le clachan mora ga'n cuir an ordugh,
'S _Sament_ da choinntich ga'n cumail ceart.
Tha dorus mor air ma choinneamh 'n-otraich
'Us cloidhean oir air ga chumail glaist
Tha uinneag chinn air ma choinneamh 'n teintean
'Us _screen_ side oirre 'dh-fhodar glas;
Tha'n ceann a bhan deth o bheul an fhalais
A deanamh baithach air son a chruidh
'S gur cubhraidh am faladh a thig gu laidir
O leid, na batha 'sa ghamhuinn duibh.
Tha catha 's culaist ga dheanamh dubailt
'S gur mor an urnais tha anns an tigh
Tha seidhir-ghairdean da dharach laidir
'Us siaman bàn air ga chumail ceart,
Tha lota lair ann, da ghrèbhail cathair
'S cha chaith 's cha chnamh e gu brath n' am feasd
Tha carpad mor air da luath na moine
'S _upstairs_ ceo ann le cion na _vent_.
Tha sparan suithe o thaobh gu taobh ann
'Us ceangail luibte gan cumail ceart
Tha tuthain chaltuinn o cheann gu ceann deth
'Us maide slabhraidh 's gur mor a neart,
Tha lathais laidir o bheul an fhail air,
Gu ruig am falas sgur mor am fad,
Tha ropan siamain 'us pailteas lion air
'S mar eil e dionach cha 'n eil mi ceart.
On one occasion, on a dark and stormy winter's night, the lightning
flashing through the heavens, the thunder clap loud and long, the wind
blowing furiously, and heavy dark ominous clouds gathering in the
north-west, the circle had already gathered, and almost every seat was
occupied. It was the evening of the day of one of the local cattle
markets. Three men came in, two of them well-known drovers or cattle
buyers who had visited the house on previous occasions, the other a
gentleman who had, some time previously, arrived and taken up his
quarters in the district. No one knew who he was, where he came from, or
what his name was. There were all sorts of rumours floating amongst the
inhabitants regarding him; that he had committed some crime, and escaped
from justice; that he was a gentleman of high estate, who had fallen in
love with a lowly maiden and run away to spite his family for objecting
to the alliance; and various other surmises. He was discovered to be a
gentleman and a scholar, and particularly frank and free in his
conversation with the people about everything except his own history and
antecedents, and was a walking encyclopædia of all kinds of legendary
lore connected with the southern parts of the country. His appearance
caused quite a flutter among the assembled rustics. He was, however,
heartily welcomed by the old bard and members of the circle, and was
offered a seat a little to the left of the oak arm chair. It was soon
found that he was a perfect master of Gaelic as well as English. It was
also found on further acquaintance, during many subsequent visits, that
he never told a story or legend without a preliminary introduction of
his own, told in such a manner as to add immensely to the interest of
the tale.
"_Coinnichidh na daoine ri cheile ach cha choinnich na cnuic_"--(Men
will meet each other, but hills will never meet), said _Ruairidh Mor a
Chnuic_, who, on this occasion, found himself in the Oak Chair. "Very
true," said the next man to the left. "_Cuiridh an teanga snaim nach
t-fhuasgail an fhiacaill_"--(The tongue will tie a knot which the tooth
cannot loosen). "Let some one give us a story." "_Cha robh sgialach nach
robh briagach_"--(He who is a good story-teller is also a good retailer
of lies), says Callum a Ghlinne, or Malcolm of the Glen, an excellent
story-teller when he liked. "I'll give you a riddle though, and perhaps
we may get a _sgeulachd_ from the stranger, the gentleman, on my left,"
"_An rud nach eil 's nach robh, 's nach bi' sin do laimh 'us chi thu
e_"--(What is not, never was, and never will be, stretch forth your hand
and you'll see it). This was soon answered by the younger members--"_Bar
na meur uileadh an aon fhad_"--(The points of the fingers the same
length). It now comes the turn of the romantic stranger, who shall in
these pages be known as "Norman of the Yacht." He was in no way put out,
consented; and immediately began the Legend, of which, and his
introductory remarks, the following is a translation:--