Folk Tales of Scotland (31 page)

‘Don’t you know how to make it?’ said Iain.

‘I must try. If I don’t make it I’ll be hanged tomorrow. Maybe you can make it.’

‘Lock me in your workshop,’ said Iain. ‘Keep your gold and silver, and I’ll have the cap ready in the morning.’

The smith locked Iain in, and Iain wished the raven to come to him. The raven came and broke the window of the workshop, and flew in with the cap of gold studded with diamonds.

‘Now, cut off my head!’ said the raven. ‘I’m a young man under a spell and it will not leave me till my head is off.’

So Iain drew his Sword of Light and cut off the raven’s head. It was not difficult.

Next morning the smith unlocked the door and came in. Iain gave him the cap and the smith was astonished at its beauty. Then Iain fell asleep. He was wakened by a noble-looking youth with brown
hair.

‘I was the raven,’ said the youth. ‘The spell is now off me.’

Meanwhile the smith took the cap to the Knight of Greenock’s house. A servant took the cap to the Knight’s youngest daughter, and told her that the smith had made it. The youngest
daughter looked at the cap.

‘That smith did not make that cap,’ said the youngest daughter. ‘Tell the rogue to bring the man who made it. I want to see him!’

The smith brought Iain to the youngest daughter, and when she saw him, she recognised him as the lad who had saved her from the giant, and she was very happy to see him again. He told her he had
kept her cap so that he could find her again. And she told him how she had been hurried to the ship without him.

‘You’re as brave and strong as Iain the soldier’s son, from Albainn,’ said she.

‘I am Iain the soldier’s son from Albainn,’ said he.

So they married and lived long in the town of Greenock.

NCE
the King of Denmark sent his son to the Scottish Court. The young Prince took a party
of friends with him to hunt, and they landed on the north-west coast of Scotland.

One day, by Loch Maree, the Prince lost his companions, and, feeling tired, he sat down and fell asleep. Awakening, he saw an old man and a young woman coming toward him. Standing in their path,
he bowed low.

‘Out of my way, stranger!’ said the old man.

‘I am the Prince of Denmark,’ said the young man.

The old man made excuses, saying:

‘This is the Princess Tyra of Ireland. She is staying with us at the Monastery on Isle Maree, and I have to protect her from intrusion.’

‘This has been our first meeting, and I fear it will be our last,’ said the Prince to the Princess.

‘That may be,’ said the Princess, and went on her way with the old man.

The Prince returned, hoping to see her again, but no one came. The next time he came to this place, hoping to see her, he waited two days and he waited alone. The third time he waited three
days, and still no one came. Then he decided to go to Isle Maree.

He found a boatman willing to ferry him across. As they landed on the island, the boatman pointed out a path.

‘On your way,’ he said, ‘you’ll come to a Holy Well. You must not pass
without drinking from it. Beside the Well is an old oak tree with a hollow
side. You should not pass without putting something of value into it.’

But the Prince forgot the Holy Well and the hollow tree. He knocked at the door of the Monastery. He was led to an old monk, who asked him who he was, and what he wanted.

‘I am the Prince of Denmark,’ said he, ‘and I’ve come to ask the Princess Tyra of Ireland to marry me.’

‘The Princess is free to make her own choice,’ said the monk.

The Princess was pleased to see him, and they spent the day happily together on the island, but she refused to marry him.

‘I saw you only once before,’ she said. ‘Love that comes as quickly may go as quickly, and I am afraid. Red Hector of the hills wants to marry me, and he would be a dangerous
foe.’

‘He would meet his match,’ said the Prince, and went away, promising to return the next day.

He had not gone far when an arrow passed close to his face. The next one stuck in his bonnet. A tall man was standing beside a rock.

‘Why do you make a target of me?’ asked the Prince.

‘I am Red Hector of the hills,’ said the big man. ‘We have a matter to settle between us. You must kill me or I must kill you!’

‘Surely there’s a better way to settle our differences,’ said the Prince.

‘There is not,’ said Red Hector.

So the two men fought. Red Hector struck the Prince with his sword, wounding him deeply.

The Prince lay still and kept his hand on his wound to stop the bleeding. He dragged himself toward a nearby burn, but fainted before he could drink. A monk found him and took him to the
Monastery of Isle Maree. There, the Princess Tyra nursed him back to life, and promised to go with him to Denmark.

But a ship sailed into the harbour of Poolewe with bad news. The Princess must return to Ireland where her father was dying.

‘Will you return?’ asked the Prince.

‘Nothing but death shall prevent me,’ she replied. And so the Princess Tyra sailed away to Ireland.

The Prince’s men looked out for her ship from the highest hills. Each day they returned without news.

One day they saw three ships, and the first one was flying the royal flag of Ireland at its topmast. The Prince took his men to the highest hill to signal a welcome, and on the way they met an
old man.

‘Wait till I tell you my dream,’ said he.

‘I care nothing for dreams,’ said the Prince.

‘I dreamed this dream three nights,’ said the old man. ‘In my dream, the Princess Tyra of Ireland was dead. But I will go to the ship. If all is well, you’ll see a red
flag flying. If not, a black one.’

The old man rowed out to the ship. He persuaded the Princess to fly a black flag, saying that the Prince would then get a happy surprise when he saw her alive and well.

But when the Prince saw the black flag, he was so heartbroken, he took out his dirk and killed himself.

The Princess was told what had happened.

‘I will go alone to bid him farewell,’ she said.

On the way, someone followed her. Turning, she saw it was the old man.

‘Wretched old man!’ she cried. ‘That was evil advice you gave me.’

‘Old man, indeed!’ said he, tearing off his disguise. ‘I am Red Hector of the hills!’ And with that, he killed her with his dirk and disappeared into the dark hill.

INN
, chief of the Feinne, was to marry Grainne, daughter of the King of Carmaig in Erin.
A great feast was made that lasted seven days and seven nights. All the nobles and the men of the Feinne were there, and among them was the handsome young hero, Diarmid. He had a mole on the side
of his cheek which, when seen by a woman, made her fall in love with him. Therefore he kept this love-spot hidden by a cap or a helmet.

Now, after the feast was over, the leftover scraps were thrown to the dogs. They were hungry and fought each other for the meat. The heroes of the Feinne went to separate them. As he tried to
keep them apart, Diarmid’s cap slipped. Grainne saw the fatal love-spot and instantly fell in love with him. As soon as she had a chance to speak with him alone, she said:

‘Diarmid, I cannot rest till you take me away!’

‘I’ll not do that,’ said Diarmid. ‘I’ll not take you on horseback or on foot.’ He turned his back on her and went home.

Next morning, Diarmid found Grainne at his door, mounted on a buck-goat.

‘Take me away, Diarmid,’ she begged. ‘I can’t live with Finn, and I can’t live apart from you.’

‘I’ve told you that I’ll not take you on horseback nor on foot,’ said Diarmid. ‘I can have nothing to do with you.’

‘I’m not on horseback and I’m not on my feet,’ she said, ‘so you must take me with you!’

‘There’s no place on earth we can go where Finn will not find us. As soon as he puts his finger under his tooth of knowledge, he’ll know where we are.
He’ll come after us and he’ll kill me for taking you away!’

‘We can go to Carraig,’ said Grainne. ‘There are many places of that name. He’ll not know which one to go to.’

So they went to Carraig am Daimh, which means the Crag of the Stag. They found a place to live and, as Diarmid was a good carpenter, he made wooden bowls, which Grainne sold round the
countryside. Diarmid also caught all the fish they needed and Grainne cooked it. But their beds remained apart.

One day, an old carle called Ciofach came their way and stayed with them. Grainne took a great liking for Ciofach, and he for her. Together they planned to kill Diarmid.

While Diarmid was busy making his bowls, Ciofach crept up behind him and attacked him, but Diarmid was too quick for him, and they wrestled on the ground. When Ciofach was nearly defeated,
Grainne took a knife and stabbed Diarmid in the thigh.

Weakened by the wound, he crawled away, hid in a fisherman’s hut and refused to remove the knife in his thigh. He was given fish and, as he cooked it, he dipped his fingers in a cogie of
water to clean them. Now, anything Diarmid touched with his fingers would taste of honey, and he touched the fish which Grainne eventually bought from the fisherman. When she tasted the honey in
the fish, she knew that Diarmid must be hiding near by. And this was how she found him.

Grainne told Ciofach where Diarmid was hiding.

‘You must kill him,’ said she.

Soon Ciofach and Diarmid were wrestling again, but in spite of his wound, Diarmid had the old carle on the ground and this time he killed him.

When Grainne saw that Ciofach was dead, she followed Diarmid to the shores of Loch a Chaisteil, where a heron was screaming and Diarmid was climbing the rock-face of the mountain. So she called
to him:

And Diarmid called back to her:

‘Oh Diarmid,’ she cried, ‘here’s meat and bread for you if you can find a knife to cut it.’

‘You’ll find a knife in the sheath where you put it,’ said Diarmid, coming to her. And there she saw the knife she had driven into his thigh, still in the place from which he
had refused to remove it.

Drawing the knife out of Diarmid was Grainne’s greatest shame, and Diarmid’s greatest fear was that Finn would now find them together.

They found a place to stay by the side of a burn and their beds were still apart. Again Diarmid made wooden bowls and as he turned them, the shavings floated down the burn.

Meanwhile Finn, filled with rage when he found that Grainne had left him, put his finger under his tooth of knowledge and learned where she was. He and the Feinne searched all the Crags for
her.

One day, when they were hunting by the shores of the loch just below the Crag of the Stag, Finn noticed shavings of wood floating down the burn that flowed into the loch.

‘These shavings were made by Diarmid,’ said he.

‘How can that be when he is not alive,’ said the Feinne.

‘I know the way Diarmid works and they are his shavings,’ said Finn. ‘We’ll shout the
FOGHAID
. Wherever he is, Diarmid has sworn to answer our
hunting call!’

Diarmid heard the hunting call. Grainne begged him not to answer it but he did. He went down to the shores of the loch to meet the Feinne.

Finn gave Diarmid a task. He was to hunt the wild boar. Diarmid hunted the boar and caught up with it. He drew the sword that MacLiobhain had made and killed the boar.

But this was not Finn’s revenge against Diarmid. That was to come. Now, Diarmid had a mole on the sole of his foot, and it was known that if the mole was pierced, it would bring death.
When Finn told Diarmid to measure the boar he had killed, Diarmid forgot this danger and stepped on one of the boar’s bristles. It pierced the mole on his foot and he fell to the ground.