‘He will return here tonight,’ said the woman. ‘If you want to catch him you must be clever and not fall asleep.’
The hoodie’s young wife tried to keep awake, but when he came she was fast asleep. He dropped a ring on her right hand and this woke her. She tried to catch him, but all she caught was a feather from his wing. He left the feather and flew away, and in the morning she did not know what to do.
‘He has gone over the hill of poison,’ said the woman. ‘But no one can climb that hill without a horseshoe on each hand and foot.’
The woman dressed the hoodie’s wife up as a man and told her to go to the smith where she would learn to make horseshoes for herself. The smith taught her and soon she made horseshoes for both her hands and both her feet.
Then she went over the hill of poison, and on to the town, only to hear that her husband was about to marry the Laird’s daughter.
Now, there were races in the town that day, and everyone was to be at the races, except the stranger who had come over the hill of poison. The Laird’s cook came to her and said:
‘As you’re not going to the races, will you take my place, and make the meal for the Laird’s family? I’d be grateful if you’ll do this, otherwise I’ll not be able to go to the races.’
‘I’ll make the meal,’ said she. ‘I can do that.’
So the hoodie’s wife prepared the meal and watched carefully to see where the bridegroom was sitting. Then she let the ring and the feather drop into the bowl of broth that was set before him. With the first spoonful he took up the ring, and with the second he took up the feather.
‘Bring me the cook who prepared this broth,’ said he.
They fetched the usual cook, but the bridegroom shook his head when he saw him.
‘This is not the one who cooked that broth,’ said he, ‘and I’ll not marry until she is brought to me.’
So they fetched the one who had indeed prepared the broth, and she was his own true wife, who he had thought was lost to him for ever.
He recognised her and the spell was broken. Together they returned over the hill of poison. She threw the horseshoes behind her, and he followed her. As they went home, they took with them their three young sons from each of the three houses where she had slept on the three nights of her search. And from that day they lived happily ever after.
THE STOOR WORM
HE length of the Master Stoor Worm was beyond telling, and reached out thousands and thousands of miles in the sea.
His tongue itself was hundreds and hundreds of miles long, and with it he would sweep away whole towns, trees and hills into the sea. It was forked, and the prongs he used to seize his prey. With it he would crush the largest ship like an egg-shell. With it he would crack the walls of the biggest castle like a nut and suck every living thing out of it.
One time the Master Stoor Worm laid his head near the shore. Every Saturday morning the people had to feed him with seven young maidens.
The people went to a wise old man for advice. He said that, if the King’s daughter was given to the Stoor Worm, the monster would leave and trouble them no more. The King was very sad, for the Princess was his only child and heir. Nevertheless he had to agree. But first he insisted on having ten weeks’ grace. He used the time to send messengers to the countries near by, offering his daughter and his kingdom to any man who would destroy the Stoor Worm.
On the last day of the ten weeks the Master Assipattle made his appearance. In his boat he entered the Stoor Worm’s mouth, rowed down its gullet, set fire to the monster’s liver, rowed out of its mouth and returned to land.
The Stoor Worm’s liver, being full of oil, blazed into a terrible fire. The heat caused the monster great pain; he almost capsized the world by his struggles.
He flung out his tongue and raised it far into the heavens. By chance he caught hold of the moon, and they say he shifted it in the sky. He took hold of one of the moon’s horns, but by good fortune his tongue slipped over the horn. Down fell the tongue and caused a great earthquake.
Where it fell, the tongue formed a channel in the face of the earth, now filled with sea, dividing Denmark from Norway and Sweden. At the inner end of the sea, they say, two bays were made by the fork of the Stoor Worm’s tongue.
As the serpent lay struggling in great agony, he lifted up his head to the sky and let it fall violently. As he did so, he shed some of his great teeth, and they became the Orkney Isles.
The second time he did this, more teeth fell out, and they became the Shetland Isles.
While in his death throes, he threw up his head, and again it fell, striking, as it always did, the bottom of the sea. This time the teeth that were knocked out became the Faroe Isles.
Then the Stoor Worm rolled himself up, and his huge body, when he died, became the large island of Iceland. But his liver still burns, and the flames of its fire are sometimes seen rising from the mountains of that cold land.
THE MERMAID
NE day a mermaid rose at the side of a poor fisherman’s boat. ‘Are you catching many fish?’ she asked.
‘I am not,’ said he.
‘What will you give me for sending you plenty of fish?’
‘Ach,’ said the old man, ‘I haven’t much to spare.’
‘Give me your first son,’ said she.
‘I’ll give my son if I have one, but I’ll not have one now,’ said he, ‘my wife is too old.’
‘What do you have?’
‘I have an old mare, an old dog, myself and my old wife. These are all I have in the world.’
‘Here are twelve grains,’ said the mermaid. ‘Give three to your wife, three to your dog, three to your mare, and three you must plant behind your house. In time your wife will have three sons, the mare three foals, and the dog three pups. Three trees will grow behind your house, and when one of your sons dies, one of the trees will wither. Now go home, and remember me when your eldest son is three years of age. You will catch plenty of fish from now on.’
Everything happened as the mermaid had said.
At the end of three years the old fisherman went to fish as usual, but he did not take his eldest son with him. The mermaid rose at the side of his boat, and said:
‘Have you brought your son to me?’
‘I did not bring him. I forgot that this was the day,’ said he.
‘Very well, you may have four more years of him,’ said the mermaid, and she lifted up her child. ‘Here is a lad of the same age. Is your son as fine as this one?’
The fisherman did not answer but he went home very happy, for he had four more years. He kept on catching plenty of fish, but at the end of four years he grew sad. He went on fishing as before, and the mermaid rose at the side of his boat.
‘Have you brought your son to me?’ she said.
‘I forgot him this time too,’ said the old man.
‘Go home then,’ said the mermaid, ‘and seven years from now you are sure to remember me. You’ll still catch plenty of fish.’
At the end of seven years the old man could rest neither day nor night.
‘What is worrying you, Father?’ asked his eldest son.
‘That is my affair,’ said the old man.
The lad said he must know, and at last his father told him about the mermaid.
‘You shall not go, my son,’ said he, ‘though I never catch another fish.’
‘Then go to the smiddy,’ said his son, ‘and tell the smith to make me a strong sword, and I’ll go seek my fortune.’
His father went to the smiddy, and the smith made him a sword. The lad grasped it, and shook it once or twice, and it broke into a thousand pieces. So he asked his father to go to the smiddy and order another sword, twice as heavy. His father did so, and the same thing happened to the second sword.
Back went the old man to the smith, who then made the strongest sword, the like of which he had never made before.
‘There’s a sword for you,’ said the smith. ‘The hand must be good that
plays this blade.’
The old man gave it to his son, who shook it once or twice.
‘This will do,’ said he. ‘It’s high time I was on my way.’
The next morning he put a saddle on the black horse, son of the old mare. Away he went, his black dog with him. When he had gone some way, he saw the carcass of a sheep beside the road. By the carrion sat a dog, a falcon and an otter. He got down off his horse and divided the carcass among the three.
‘If swift foot or sharp tooth will help you, remember me, and I’ll be by your side,’ said the dog.
‘If swimming foot at the bottom of a pool will help you, remember me, and I’ll be by your side,’ said the otter.
‘If swift wing or crooked claw will help you, remember me, and I’ll be by your side,’ said the falcon.
The lad went on till he reached a King’s house, where he took service as a cowherd. He went out with the cattle, but the grass was poor. When evening came, he took them home, but the cows gave little milk, and the lad had little to eat and drink that night.
Next day he took the cows to a grassy place in a green glen. When he was due to take the cattle home, he saw a giant with a sword in his hand.
‘Hiu! Hiu! Hogaraich!’ shouted the giant. ‘My teeth have rotted a long time waiting for you. The cattle are now mine. They are on my land, and you’re a dead man!’
‘There’s no knowing,’ said the cowherd. ‘It’s easier to say than to do.’ Then he called his black dog. With one spring it caught the giant by the neck, and the cowherd struck off his head.
He mounted his black horse, rode to the giant’s house, and went in. There was plenty of money, and clothes of silver and gold, but he took nothing.
At the mouth of the night he returned to the King’s castle. When the cows were milked there was plenty, so he ate well that night. The King was pleased to have such a cowherd. This went on for some time, but at last all the grass in the glen was eaten. So he took the cattle further on till they came to a great park, where he put them to graze. A giant came running.
‘Hiu! Hiu! Hogaraich!’ shouted the giant. ‘Your blood shall quench my thirst this night!’
‘There’s no knowing,’ said the cowherd.
Then he called his dog. With one spring it caught the giant by the neck, and the cowherd struck off his head.
That night he went home tired, but the cows gave plenty of milk. The King and his family were delighted to have such a cowherd.
One night the dairymaid was weeping. The cowherd asked her what was the matter. She said a great beast with three heads was in the loch. Each year it had been given a victim, and this year it was the turn of the King’s daughter. At midday, next day, the Princess was to meet the monster at the loch. But a mighty suitor was going to rescue her.
‘What suitor will that be?’ said the cowherd.
‘He is a great General,’ said she, ‘and the King has said that the man who rescues her will marry her.’
Next day, near the time, the King’s daughter and the General went to meet the beast. They reached the black corrie at the top of the loch. Shortly after, the beast moved in the middle of the loch. But when the General saw the beast with three heads, he hid himself. Then the King’s daughter saw a handsome youth, on a black horse, riding toward her. His black dog followed him. He sat down beside her, and told her he had come to rescue her.
‘Now I must rest,’ said he, ‘and if I fall asleep, you must waken me as soon as you see the beast.’
‘How am I to wake you?’
‘Put the gold ring from your finger on my little finger.’
Not long after she saw the monster coming. She took off her ring and put it on the young man’s little finger. He awoke, and went to meet the monster. His black dog sprang on the monster, and the youth was able to cut off one of its heads.
‘You have won,’ said the King’s daughter. ‘I am safe tonight but the monster will come again and again, until its other two heads are cut off.’
He put a willow branch through the monster’s head, and told the King’s daughter to bring it back with her next day. She went home with the head slung over her shoulder, and the cowherd returned to his herding. The General came out of his hiding place and caught up with her. He threatened to kill her if she told anyone who had cut off the monster’s head.
When they reached the castle, the head was slung over the General’s shoulder. Everyone was very happy that the King’s daughter had come home alive.
Next day the General and the King’s daughter went back to the loch. When the monster moved in the middle of the loch, the General again hid himself, and along came the young man on the black horse with his dog following.
‘I’m glad to see you,’ the Princess said. ‘Come and rest beside me.’
‘If I sleep before the beast comes, wake me up,’ said he.
‘How shall I wake you?’
‘Take the earring out of your ear, and put it in mine!’
He had just fallen asleep when the King’s daughter cried:
‘Wake up! Wake up!’ but wake he would not. When she took the earring out of her ear, and put it in his, he awoke at once and went to meet the beast. About the mouth of night he cut another head off the monster. He put the second head on the willow branch, and gave it to the King’s daughter. Then he leaped on his black horse and returned to his herding.
The King’s daughter went home with the second head on the willow branch. The General met her as before, and took it from her.
Everyone was delighted to see her return home alive, and the King was sure the General would save his daughter.
Next day they returned to the loch, and when the monster stirred in the loch, the General hid himself. Along came the lad on the black horse, and lay down beside the Princess.
‘If I sleep before the monster comes, wake me,’ said he.
‘How shall I wake you?’
‘Take the earring off your other ear and put it in mine,’ he said.
No sooner was he asleep than the King’s daughter saw the monster.
‘Wake up! Wake up!’ she cried, but wake he would not.
So she took the earring from her other ear, and put it in his. At once he awoke, attacked the beast, and cut off its third head. He put the third head on the willow branch and handed it to the King’s daughter. Then he leapt on his horse, and returned to the herding.
The King’s daughter went home with the third head on the willow branch, but the General took it from her.
Everyone was delighted that she was safe and well and the monster dead. The King arranged that the General should marry her the next day. But when the priest came, the Princess said she would only marry the man who could take the monster’s three heads off the willow Branch without breaking the branches.
‘Who should take the heads off the willow branch but the man who put them there,’ said the King.
The General tried, but he could not loose them. Then every man in the castle tried, but they could not. There was one other man who had not tried, the cowherd, so he was sent for. He took them off at once.
‘The man who cut off the monster’s heads has my ring and my earrings,’ said the King’s daughter.
The cowherd put his hand in his pocket, and drew out the ring and the earrings.
‘You are my man,’ said the Princess.
So they were married that very night.
One day while the Princess and her husband were walking by the side of the loch, there came a monster more terrible than the first, and carried the husband off into the loch.
The Princess met an old smith, and she told him what had happened. The smith told her to spread out all her treasures at the edge of the loch. She did so, and the monster put its head up out of the water.
‘Your jewellery is very fine, Princess,’ it said.
‘Not as fine as the jewel you took from me,’ said she. ‘Let me see my husband once, and you shall have one of these jewels.’
The monster b
rought him to her.
‘Give him to me and you shall have all you see,’ said she.
The monster did so, threw her husband alive on the shore, and then went off with her jewels.
Soon after this, they were walking beside the loch, when the monster came and took away the Princess. Her husband met the smith, who told him there was only one way to kill the beast.
‘On the island in the middle of the loch is the white-footed hind. Catch her, and out of her will spring a hoodie. Catch the hoodie, and out of her will spring a trout. Catch the trout, and out of it will fall an egg. In the egg is the soul of the monster. Break the egg and the monster will die.’
Now the monster sank any boat going to the island, so the cowherd leaped across to the island on his black horse, his black dog after him.
He saw the hind, and the black dog chased her. But when the black dog was on one side of the island, the hind was on the other.
‘Oh, that the hound that I once saw by the carcass of sheep were here to help me!’
At once the hound was chasing the hind. The two dogs soon brought her to earth. She was no sooner caught than a hoodie sprang out of her.
‘Oh, that the grey falcon with the sharp eye and swift wing were here to help me!’ cried the young man.
At once the grey falcon was after the hoodie, and brought her down. She was no sooner caught than a trout sprang out of her into the loch.
‘Oh, that the otter, the swift swimmer, were here to help me!’
At once the otter was there and leapt into the loch. No sooner was the otter back on the shore with the trout, than an egg fell from its mouth.
‘Don’t break that egg,’ screamed the monster, and I’ll give all you ask.’
‘Give me back my wife!’ cried the young man.
At once she was by his side. He took her hand in his, but he crushed the egg under his foot, and the monster died.
The Prince, who had once been a cowherd, was walking with his Princess one day, when he saw a little castle beside the loch, in a wood. He asked his wife who lived there. She told him that no one had come back alive who had gone near that castle.
Folk Tales of Scotland Page 11