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| John MacDonald of Highbridge, Brae Lochaber. Courtesy of the School of Scottish Studies Archives. |
Chaidh
mi dha’n Aifreann tràth anns a’ mhaduinn an diugh. An déidh dhomh tighinn
dachaidh thug mi greis a’ sgrìobhadh gus an robh am dinnearach ann. An uair sin
chaidh mi a mach agas thachair Iain Mac Dhomhnaill, am Bàrd, rium. Chan fhaca
mi e an diugh idir agas bha mi air son gun tigeadh e a nall e dh’ innseadh
sgeulachdan domh. Thuirt e gun tigeadh e aig ceithir uairean feasgar. Chaidh mi
a null g’a iarraidh agas thug mi liom a nall e a dh’ ionnsaigh an taighe. Bha
latha mór againn an diugh cuideachd le naidheachdan agas thug e grunn mór
dhiubh dhomh. Bha e comhla rium gus an robh e mu naoi uairean a’s t-oidhche.
I went
to Mass early this morning. After I came home I spent a while writing until
dinner time. I then went out and happened to meet John MacDonald, the Bard. I
hadn’t seen him at all today and I wanted him to come over to tell me stories.
He said that he would come at four o’clock this afternoon. I went over to fetch
him then and I took him over to the house. We had another great day today with
regard to [recording] anecdotes and he gave me a great many of them. He was in
my company until around nine o’clock at night.
Indeed,
the very first recordings that Maclean made in 1951 for the School of Scottish
Studies included no less than five hundred and twenty-four Gaelic tales (mainly
short, pithy items that were part of the local seanchas or historical lore) from this roadman, encountered as
Maclean wrote, “in the dead of winter, and Lochaber lay white and deep in snow.”
The title of this particular narrative item is Fear a chunntais na sìdhchean – ‘The man who counted the fairies’:
Bha an
sluagh anns an dùthaich seo air an cuideachadh gu math tri(ch)c leis na
sìdhchean (F346). Tha àite anns an dùthaich seo ris an abair iad an Ràth, thall
am Bracleitir. Agas bha duine a’ fuireach ann ris an abradh iad Ailean Mór an
Ràth agas iomadh duine air thoiseach air an ãm aig Ailean Mór an Ràth. Agas bha
fear a’ dol seachad aig Geàrrlochaidh, dìreach mu choinneamh an Ràth: tha iad
glé theann air a chéile, ach gu bheil an abhainn a’ ruith sìos eatorra, Abhainn
Spèan. Bha oidhche bhriagha ghealach ann. Agas gu dé b’ iongnadh leis ach an
t-àite làn sìdhchean a’ ruith air ais ’s air adharst ag obair air an ara(bh)ar.
Agas ’s ann dar a rachadh càch mu thàmh air an oidhche, ’s ann a bha à-san a’
tighinn a mach a dh’ obair (F455.6.8.1). Agas thuirst e ris fhéi’:
“Chuala
mi iomaradh riamh air nan cunntadh tu na sìdhchean nach
fhai(ch)ceadh tu tuillidh iad (F381). Nach fhiach mi sin a dhèanadh,” thuirst
ris fhéi’.
Shuidh
e agas bha e ’gan cunntas. Agas b’e sin an obair. Bha iad cho colta’ ri chéile
a chuile h-aon dhiubh a’ ruith air ais ’s air adharst. Is thuirst e:
“Is
iomadh cunntas a rinn mi riamh air meanbh-chruidh ’s air crodh, air spréidh
agas an iomadh àite, ach bheat seo na thachair riamh oram.”
Chum e
air cunntas gus an dàinig e a dh’ ionnsaigh ciad gu leith.
“Ma
ta, chan ’eil mi ro-chinnteach a bheil iad agam uile. Ach ’s e an t-aon rud a
chuala mi: nam bitheadh iad air an cunntas cearst, nach bitheadh iad ri
fhai(ch)cinn tuillidh.”
Agas
chum e air a thuras. Dar a thàinig a’ sluagh a mach ’s a’ mhaduinn, b’ iongnadh
leotha a chuile sguab de’n ara(bh)ar cho seasgair, tioram air a chur
air dòigh agas air a thughadh. Agas thug iad taing seachad: na bu có a rinn e,
gur h-iad an sgioba a bha tapaidh. Agas cha deach na sìdhchean fhai(ch)cinn
tuillidh. Agas feumaidh a’ fear a chunnt iad, gun robh iad air an cunntas
cearst. Mar a tha a’ fa(ch)cal ag ràdha: ‘Ma chunntas e a dh’ ionnsaigh a h-aon
iad, chan fhai(ch)c thu a h-aon dhiubh tuillidh.’
Maclean also rendered a close translation of the above tale into English:
The folk in this country were often helped by the fairies. There is a place in this district which they call the Ràth, over in Brackletter. And there was a man living there whom they called Big Allan of the Ràth, and many other people lived there before the time of Big Allan of the Ràth. And a certain man was passing by Gearrlochy, over opposite the Ràth; the two places are very close to one another except that the river runs down between them, the Spean river. It was a fine, moonlit night, and to his amazement the place was full of fairies who ran hither and thither as they harvested the corn (F455.6.8.1). And it was when other people went to rest at night that they came out to work (F348.8). And he said to himself:
“I have always heard it said that, if you counted the fairies (F381), you would not see them again. Should I not try to do that,” said he to himself.
He sat down and counted them. And that was some job. They were all so alike running to and fro. And he said:
“I have made many reckonings of sheep and of cattle, of herds, and I did so in many places but this has surpassed anything that I have ever come across.”
He continued counting until he came to a hundred and fifty.
“Indeed, I am not sure that I have them all, but the one thing I did hear is that, if they are counted properly, they would not be seen again.”
And he continued on his journey. When the folk came out in the morning, they were amazed to find every sheaf safe and dry, stacked and thatched. And they expressed their thanks: whoever did it, it was done by an agile team. And the fairies were not seen again. And it must have been the person who counted them did count them properly. As the saying has it, “If he counts them to the exact figure, you will not see one of them again.”
The folk in this country were often helped by the fairies. There is a place in this district which they call the Ràth, over in Brackletter. And there was a man living there whom they called Big Allan of the Ràth, and many other people lived there before the time of Big Allan of the Ràth. And a certain man was passing by Gearrlochy, over opposite the Ràth; the two places are very close to one another except that the river runs down between them, the Spean river. It was a fine, moonlit night, and to his amazement the place was full of fairies who ran hither and thither as they harvested the corn (F455.6.8.1). And it was when other people went to rest at night that they came out to work (F348.8). And he said to himself:
“I have always heard it said that, if you counted the fairies (F381), you would not see them again. Should I not try to do that,” said he to himself.
He sat down and counted them. And that was some job. They were all so alike running to and fro. And he said:
“I have made many reckonings of sheep and of cattle, of herds, and I did so in many places but this has surpassed anything that I have ever come across.”
He continued counting until he came to a hundred and fifty.
“Indeed, I am not sure that I have them all, but the one thing I did hear is that, if they are counted properly, they would not be seen again.”
And he continued on his journey. When the folk came out in the morning, they were amazed to find every sheaf safe and dry, stacked and thatched. And they expressed their thanks: whoever did it, it was done by an agile team. And the fairies were not seen again. And it must have been the person who counted them did count them properly. As the saying has it, “If he counts them to the exact figure, you will not see one of them again.”
This
story would seem to be migratory and was probably quite a common tale to be
heard throughout the Highlands and Islands and doubtless in other places where
fairy lore was to be found.
References:
Calum
I. Maclean, ‘Fairy Stories from Lochaber’, Scottish Studies, vol. 4
(1960), pp. 84–95
────, ‘Hebridean
Traditions’, Gwerin:
Journal of Folk Life, vol. 1, no. 1 (1956), pp. 21–33
Image:
John MacDonald of
Highbridge, 1950s. Courtesy of the School of Scottish Studies Archives
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