Folk Tales of Scotland

by William Montgomerie

  ‘Come away, wee bannock,’ said she. ‘I’m having cream and bread today.’

  But the wee bannock ran round the churn, the wife after it, and in the hurry she nearly overturned the churn. Before she had set it right again, the wee bannock was off, down the hillside to the mill and in it ran.

  The miller was sifting meal at the trough but, looking up, he smiled at the wee bannock.

  ‘Ay,’ said he, ‘it’s a sign of plenty when you’re running about and nobody to look after you. I like bannock and cheese. Come away in and I’ll give you a night’s quarters.’

  But the wee bannock wouldn’t trust itself with the miller and his cheese. It ran out of the mill, and the miller didn’t trouble to chase after it.

  Well, it ran and it ran, till it came to the smiddy. In it went and up to the anvil. The blacksmith was making his horse-nails.

  ‘I like a cog of good ale, and a well-toasted bannock,’ said the smith. ‘Come away in here.’

  The bannock was frightened when it heard about the ale, and ran off as hard as it could, the smith after it. He threw his hammer at it, but the wee bannock whirled away, and was out of sight in an instant. It ran and ran till it came to a farmhouse with a large peat-stack at the end of it. In it ran to the fireside. The goodman was separating lint, and the goodwife was dressing flax.

  ‘Janet,’ said he, ‘there’s a wee bannock. I’ll have the half of it!’

  ‘Well, John, I’ll have the other half. Hit it over the back with a clew.’

  The bannock played tig. The goodwife threw the heckle at it, but it was too clever for her.

  Off it ran up the stream to the next house, and whirled away in to the fireside. The goodwife was stirring gruel and the goodman plaiting rush-ropes for the cattle.

  ‘Hey, Jock,’ said the goodwife,’ come here! You are always crying about a bannock. Here’s one. Come in, hurry now! I’ll help you catch it.’

  ‘Ay, wife, where is it?’

  ‘See, there. Run over to that side.’

  But the wee bannock ran in behind the goodman’s chair. Jock fell among the rushes. The goodwife threw the porridge-stick and the goodman a rope, but the bannock was too clever for either of them. It was off and out of sight in an instant, through the whins, and down the road to the next house. In it went to the fireside just as the folk were sitting down to their gruel, and the goodwife was scraping the pot.

  ‘Losh,’ said she, ‘there’s a wee bannock come in to warm itself at our fireside!’

  ‘Shut the door,’ said the goodman, ‘and we’ll try to get a grip of it.’

  When the wee bannock heard this, it ran into the kitchen, and they after it with their spoons. The goodman threw his bonnet, but the wee bannock ran and ran, and faster ran, till it came to another house. When it went in, the folk were just going to their beds. The goodman was casting off his trousers, and the goodwife was raking the fire.

  ‘What’s that?’ said he.

  ‘Oh,’ said she, ‘it’s a wee bannock.’

  ‘I could do with the half of it, for all the porridge I supped,’ said he.

  ‘Catch it!’ said the wife, ‘and I’ll have a bit too. Throw your trousers at it! Kep! Kep!’

  The goodman threw his trousers at it and nearly smothered it. But it wrestled out, and ran, the goodman after it without his trousers. There was a rare chase over the croft field, up the yard, and among the whins. There the goodman lost it, and had to go home half naked. But it had grown dark. The wee bannock couldn’t see. He went through a whin bush, and right into a fox’s hole. The fox had had no meat for two days.

  ‘Welcome, welcome,’ said the fox, and snapped it in two.

  And that was the end of the wee bannock.

  THE BROWN BEAR OF THE GREEN GLEN

  HERE was once a King who became blind. One day his two eldest sons came to him and said:

  ‘Father, if you bathe your eyes in water from the Green Glen you’ll certainly see. We’ll go and look for the Green Glen and if we find it we’ll bring three bottles of water for you.’

  The King gave them his blessing and off they went in search of the Green Glen. They refused to take their youngest brother, John, who wanted to go with them. They said he was too stupid, but he put three empty bottles in a knapsack and followed them. At the next town he caught up with them.

  ‘So there you are,’ said he.

  ‘Take yourself off home,’ said his brothers, ‘we don’t want to be bothered with you.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said John, ‘I’ll not follow you. I’ll go my own way.’ And so he did. On and on he went till he came to a dark wood.

  ‘I’m not going through that wood,’ said John to himself. ‘It’s much too dark.’ And he climbed to the top of a tree.

  Soon he saw Brown Bear carrying a burning stick in his mouth. Brown Bear stopped, dropped the stick on a rock, and looked up at John.

  ‘I see you, Son of the King of Erin,’ said he. ‘Come down from that tree! I want to talk to you.’

  ‘I will not,’ said John. ‘I’m safer up here.’

  ‘If you don’t come down, I’ll climb up to you!’

  ‘Wait,’ said John, ‘stand two steps away from the tree and I’ll come down.’

  Brown Bear stepped from the tree, and John climbed down.

  ‘Now we can be friends,’ said Brown Bear. ‘Are you hungry?’

  ‘I am,’ said John.

  ‘Then watch me!’ Brown Bear chased a roebuck and caught it. ‘We’ll have roebuck for supper,’ said he. ‘Do you like your meat cooked or raw?

  ‘Cooked,’ said John.

  Brown Bear took the burning stick and made a fire. Then he roasted the roebuck and they ate it between them.

  ‘Lie here, between my paws,’ said Brown Bear, ‘and you’ll have a good night’s sleep and not feel cold nor hunger.’

  John lay down, his head between Brown Bear’s paws, and was soon fast asleep. Early next morning Brown Bear nudged him, and said:

  ‘Are you awake, Son of the King of Erin?’

  ‘I am,’ said John.

  ‘Then it’s time you were on the soles of your feet. We’ve a long way to go. Come, jump on my back and we’ll go like the wind!’

  John jumped on Brown Bear’s back, and away they went till they reached a giant’s house.

  ‘You must stay here tonight,’ said Brown Bear. ‘This giant is grumpy but if you tell him Brown Bear of the Green Glen brought you here, he’ll give you supper and a comfortable bed.’

  John got off Brown Bear’s back. He knocked on the door and the giant opened it.

  ‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ said he. ‘I’m not sure whether to stamp you into the earth with my foot or blow you into the sky with my breath.’

  ‘You’ll do neither,’ said John. ‘Brown Bear of the Green Glen brought me here.’

  ‘In that case, you’ll be well cared for tonight.’

  Sure enough, the giant kept his word. John got a good supper and a comfortable bed. Next morning Brown Bear came.

  ‘Are you awake, Son of the King of Erin?’ he asked. ‘It’s time you were on your feet. We’ve a long way to go. Come, jump on my back.’

  John got on Brown Bear’s back and did not let go till they reached the second giant’s house.

  ‘You’ll spend the night here, and you’ll find this giant grumpier than the last, but tell him I brought you and you’ll be well cared for,’ said Brown Bear.

  So John knocked on the door, the giant opened it and said:

  ‘So you’ve come at last! Shall I stamp you into the earth with my foot or blow you away with my breath?’

  ‘You’ll do neither,’ said John. ‘Brown Bear of the Green Glen brought me here.’

  ‘Well, in that case you’re welcome to stay the night.’

  Again John was given a good supper and a comfortable bed, and the next morning Brown Bear came for him.

  ‘It’s time you were up and about,’ said he. ‘We’ve a long way to go. Come, get
on my back and hold tight.’

  John did as the Bear told him. They rode as fast as the wind till they came to the third giant’s house.

  ‘This giant is difficult,’ said Brown Bear. ‘As soon as you’re inside his house he’ll wrestle with you. He’ll be hard on you, and as soon as you need help, tell him I’ll get the better of him.’

  Sure enough, once John was inside the house, the third giant seized him. They wrestled till they made a bog of the rock. They sank so deep into the ground that spring-water gushed from under their feet. The giant was so hard on John that he called out:

  ‘If Brown Bear of the Green Glen were here, you’d not be so rough!’

  Immediately Brown Bear was at John’s side, ready to defend him. He threw the carcass of a stag between John and the giant, and the giant vanished.

  ‘Son of the King of Erin,’ said the Brown Bear, ‘now I must leave you. An eagle will fly down and settle on the stag’s carcass. With this sword, and without shedding a drop of blood, cut off the wart above Eagle’s left eye.’

  Eagle alighted on the carcass and began to eat. John saw the wart, and with one stroke of the sword, struck off the wart without drawing a drop of blood.

  ‘Come, sit between my wings,’ said Eagle.

  John did as he was told and away they flew over sea and land till they came to the Green Glen.

  ‘Fill your bottles with the water,’ said Eagle. ‘Be quick! Fill them before the Black Dogs see you!’

  As John filled his bottles, he saw a house at the edge of the water. He found no one there, but on the table were a glass and a bottle of wine. He filled the glass and after he had drunk the wine, the bottle was still full.

  ‘I’ll take this bottle with me,’ said he.

  There was also a loaf of bread on the table. John cut a slice, ate it and still the loaf remained whole.

  ‘I’ll not leave you behind,’ said John, putting the loaf in his knapsack.

  There was also a big round cheese on the table. John cut a wedge of cheese, ate it and still the round cheese was whole, so he put it into his knapsack with the loaf, the bottle of wine, and the three bottles of Green Glen water. Then he returned to Eagle.

  ‘You’re lucky the Black Dogs didn’t see you,’ said Eagle.

  Beside him, John suddenly saw the Bonny Lass. She was so lovely he kissed her and he was very sorry to leave her, but he had to climb on the Eagle’s back.

  Eagle flew back the way they had come. As they passed, the third giant called out:

  ‘Son of the King of Erin, give me a drink.’

  Eagle swooped down and John offered the giant the bottle of wine. The giant drained it and still it was full.

  ‘I’ll give you a bag of gold for this bottle,’ said the giant.

  ‘That’s a bargain,’ said John, ‘but you must promise to give it to the Bonny Lass when she comes this way.’

  ‘She’ll get it,’ promised the third giant.

  John gave him the bottle of wine and put the bag of gold in his own knapsack. On he flew on Eagle’s back till they passed over the second giant’s house.

  ‘Son of the King of Erin,’ called the giant, ‘give me a bite of bread.’

  Eagle swooped down and John cut a chunk of bread from the loaf. When the giant had eaten it he saw the loaf was still whole.

  ‘I’ll give you a bag of silver for that loaf,’ said he.

  ‘That’s a bargain,’ said John, ‘but you must promise to give it to the Bonny Lass when she comes this way.’

  ‘She shall have it,’ promised the giant.

  So John gave him the loaf of bread and put the bag of silver in his knapsack. Away he flew on Eagle’s back till they came to the first giant’s house. The giant waved to them and shouted:

  ‘Son of the King of Erin, give me a slice of cheese.’

  Eagle swooped down and John cut the giant a slice from the big round of cheese. When the giant had eaten it he saw that the round of cheese was still whole.

  ‘I’ll give you a bag of precious stones for that cheese,’ said he.

  ‘Done,’ agreed John, ‘but you must promise to give it to the Bonny Lass when she comes this way.’

  ‘I’ll do that,’ promised the giant.

  So John gave him the cheese and put the bag of precious stones in his knapsack. He jumped on Eagle’s back and away they flew till they came to his father’s palace. Outside the palace walls, he saw his two elder brothers. They were not pleased to see him, but he greeted them.

  ‘Did you have any luck?’ he asked. ‘Did you find the waters of the Green Glen?’

  ‘We did not,’ they replied, ‘and nor did you, by the look of you.’

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ said John. ‘Look at this.’ He opened his knapsack and showed them the three bottles of water from the Green Glen.

  ‘There’s a bottle for each of us. Come lads, let’s take them to our father. He’ll be tired of blindness.’

  So the three brothers went off together, but when they were in a quiet place, the two elder lads attacked John. When they thought he was dead they threw him behind a dyke, stole the three bottles of water from his knapsack and took them to the King of Erin, their father.

  Meanwhile John lay behind the dyke and did not stir when the smith came and threw some rusty old iron over the dyke, on top of him. He lay there as though he was dead. The rusty iron got into his wounds, and it was a long time before they healed. When they did, they left rough and ugly scars all over his face; no one recognised him as the son of the King. He became known as the Lad with the Rough Skin who helped the smith in his foundry and smiddy.

  As for the Bonny Lass John had left in the Green Glen, she grew pale and heavy, and after nine months she had a little son. She looked for John and could not find him, so she went to a spey-wife.

  ‘Can you help me find the father of my little son?’

  ‘All I can do is to give you this bird,’ said the spey-wife. ‘It will perch on the head of your young son’s father and on the head of no one else.’

  So the Bonny Lass took her son and the magic bird. They searched the Green Glen from end to end, but the bird did not stir.

  ‘I’ll walk the four brown quarters of the earth to find him,’ said the Bonny Lass.

  At last she came to the third giant’s house. There, on a table, was a bottle of wine.

  ‘Who gave you that?’ she asked the giant.

  ‘The son of the King of Erin,’ he replied. ‘He told me to give you the bottle of wine when you came this way.’

  So she took the bottle and went on her way till she came to the second giant’s house. There, on a table, she saw a loaf of bread.

  ‘Who gave you that?’ she asked the giant.

  ‘The son of the King of Erin,’ said he. ‘He told me to give it to you when you came by.’

  She took the loaf and went on and on till she came to the first giant’s house, and there, on a board, was a large round cheese.

  ‘Who gave you the cheese?’ she asked the giant.

  ‘The son of the King of Erin,’ he replied. ‘Now I have to give it to you.’

  The Bonny Lass took the cheese, along with the bread, the wine, the magic bird and her small son. On and on she went till she came to the palace of the King of Erin. There she stood at the gate, watching the people as they came and went. There were many young men amongst them, but not once did the bird stir. At last it seemed as if everyone in the town had passed through the gate. Bonny Lass was in despair. She thought she would never see the Prince again. She asked the smith if there were any young men in the town who had not passed through the gate that day.

  ‘Well, there’s the rough-skinned lad who helps me in the smiddy. He hasn’t left his work today,’ said the smith. ‘But you’ll not be meaning him, surely?’

  ‘Rough or not, I’d like to see him,’ she said.

  ‘I’ll send him here right away,’ said the smith.

  As soon as the magic bird saw the rough-skinned lad,
it perched on his head. When she saw that, Bonny Lass ran to him and kissed him. As soon as she kissed him, the rough skin healed and she knew him without a doubt.

  ‘You’re the father of my little son,’ said she.

  ‘And you’re my Bonny Lass,’ said the Prince and kissed her.

  The King came to see what was happening. He recognised his long-lost youngest son, for he had recovered the sight of both eyes after bathing them with the water from the Green Glen.

  ‘John,’ said he, ‘was it you who fetched the water for my eyes?’

  ‘It was, father. My brothers took it from me.’

  ‘What shall be done with your cruel brothers?’

  ‘The same as they did to me.’

  Then John took the Bonny Lass by the hand and they were married. There was a magnificent feast and the Brown Bear of the Green Glen came and danced at the wedding.

  FATHER WREN AND HIS TWELVE SONS

  NE day, Father Wren and his twelve sons were in the barn threshing corn, when the sly fox, Tod, came by.

  ‘I want one of your sons, old wren,’ said he.

  ‘Which of us are you speaking to?’ said a wren. ‘We know we all look alike and there’s nothing to choose between us. If you can point out which is the father, you may have your pick of us.’

  The fox looked at the wrens. It was true. They all looked exactly alike, as they carried on with the threshing. He could not tell one from, another. Then he said:

  ‘It’s easy to tell the old hero from the rest of you, by the skilful way he works!’

  ‘Ah, you should have seen me when I was a young wren,’ said the old one, giving himself away without thinking, for he could not resist the flattery of the sly fox, Tod.

  After that the fox took away one of his sons without any argument.

  There was another old wren who, with his twelve sons, was by the peat-bog, when he saw a plant he wanted. He tried to pull it up by the root, but he was not strong enough, so he called to one of his twelve sons to help him. They both pulled this way and that way, till they were white in the face and red in the cheeks, but they could not pull the root out of the ground.