Folk Tales and Fairy Lore/Aonghas Mòr Thom na H-Iubhraich agus na Sìthichean, Angus Mor of Tomnahuirich and the Fairies,

by James MacDougall

Bha Aonghas Mór 'na chìobair air baile làimh ri Tom na h-lùbhraich an Inbhir Nis. Air feasgar ceòbanach fliuch, agus e a' tilleadh o chuartachadh a' mhonaidh, bha leis gu'n cuala e, a' tighinn a mach á creig làimh ris a' cheum air an robh e ag imeachd, guth coltach ri guth nighinn òig a bha e r'a pòsadh air an oidhche sin féin. Sheas e agus dh'éisd e, an dùil gu'n cluinneadh e an guth ceudna rithist. Chuala e an guth ach cha'n fhaca coltas na h-inghine, no àite an aodann na creige anns am b'urrainn di bhi am folach. A' smuainteachadh an sin gu'm b' e guth mhic-talla a chuala e, chum e air a cheum gus an deachaidh e timchioll sròn na creige. Bha tolman bòidheach, uaine roimhe, agus cho luath is a thàinig e 'na shealladh, chunnaic e an dorus fosgailte agus solus a' tighinn a mach mar solus an là an soillearachd, agus chuala e an ceòl bu bhinne a thig no a thàinig, agus farum dannsaidh stigh. Dh' èalaidh e dh' ionnsaidh an doruis, stob e a bhiodag anns an ursainn, agus thug e caol-shùil a stigh do'n t-Sìthean. B' ann an sin a bha an sealladh. Fir agus mnathan sìthe 'nan cròilein air meadhon an ùrlair ag cuibhleadh is a' dannsadh le mire-chuthaich. Ach cha robh mìr de'n nighinn r'a fhaicinn. Sheas e far an robh e gus an d' thàinig bean-shìthe a mach, agus an deachaidh i dh' ionnsaidh uillt a bha goirid as. Agus an uair a bha i a' tilleadh chaidh e 'na coinneamh, agus sheas e anns an t-slighe roimpe. "Leig seachad mi, Aonghais Mhóir," ars ise. "Cha leig," fhreagair Aonghas, "gus an innis thu dhomh có i am boirionnach a chuala mi ag éigheach mu'n d'thàinig mi an sealladh an t-Sìthein." "Cha'n innis mi sin duit; cha'n fhaod mi," ars ise. "Mur innis, cha'n fhaigh thu seachad," ars esan. "Mur faigh ad dheòin, gheibh ad aindeoin," ars ise, agus shaighdich i seachad air, mar an dealanach. Bha aig Aonghas 'na làimh cromag le bior iaruinn anns an dara ceann dith, agus thilg e a' chromag an déidh na mnà-sìthe agus bhuail e i am bac nan easgaid. Thuit i air an làr, agus mu'n d'fhuair i éirigh, bha i aige 'na ghàirdeanan, agus a' chromag tarsuinn roimpe.

Angus Mór was a shepherd on a farm near Tomnahurich, in Inverness. On a wet, misty evening, as he was returning from compassing the hill, he thought he heard, coming out of a rock beside the path on which he was travelling, a voice like that of a young maiden whom he was going to marry that very night. He stood and listened, expecting to hear the same voice again. He heard the voice, but saw no appearance of the woman, or of a place in the face of the rock, where she could be in hiding. Thinking, then, it was echo's voice he had heard, he held on his way until he went round a point of the rock. Before him was a pretty green knoll; and as soon as he came in sight of it, he beheld the door open, and issuing thence a light like the light of day in brightness, and he heard the sweetest music that has been or will be, and the sound of dancing within. He crept towards the door, thrust his dirk into the side post, and peeped into the Fairy Knoll. It was there that the sight was. Fairy men and women, in a circle in the middle of the floor, wheeling and dancing with mad energy. But not a bit of the maiden was to be seen. He stood where he was, until a fairy came forth, and went to a brook, a short distance off. When she was returning he went to meet her, and stood in the path before her. "Let me pass, Angus Mòr," said she. "No," replied Angus, "until thou tell me who the woman was whom I heard calling before I came in sight of the Fairy Knoll?" "I'll not tell thee that; I may not," said she. "If thou do not, thou shalt not get leave to pass," said he. "If not with thy good will, I will in spite of thee," said she; and she shot past him like lightning. Angus held in his hand a crook with an iron spike in one end of it, and he threw the crook after the fairy, and struck her in the houghs. She fell to the ground, and before she had time to get up, he had hold of her between his arms, and the crook laid across her breast.

"Innis dhomh, a nis," ars esan, "có i am boirionnach a bha ag glaodhaich anns an t-Sìthean mu'n d'thàinig mise 'na shealladh." "Aonghais Mhóir," ars ise, "ma dh'innseas tusa dìomhaireachd na Ban-rìgh againne air Drochaid an Easain Duibh seachduin o'n nochd, is leat féin do bhean agus do mhac."

"Tell me now," said he, "what woman was calling in the Fairy Knoll before I came in sight of it?" "Angus Mór," said she, "if thou canst tell the secret of our Queen on the Bridge of Easan Dubh a week from to-night, thy wife and son will be thine."

Chuir na briathran so ioghnadh mór air Aonghas, ach leig e as a' bhean-shìthe, agus dh' fhalbh e dhachaidh, agus phòs e an déidh dha ruigheachd.

Angus wondered greatly at these words, but he allowed the fairy to go, and he went home, and married after his arrival.

Air feasgar eile, is e a' pilleadh dhachaidh as a' mhonadh, ràinig e a' chreag o'n cuala e an guth an oidhche roimhe. Sheas e aig a ceann, agus dh' éisd e car tamuill, ach cha chuala e diog. Chaidh e an sin air a aghaidh gus an d'thàinig e an sealladh an t-Sìthein. Dh' amhairc e rathad an doruis, agus chunnaic e solus a' dealradh a mach troimhe, ach cha chuala e fuaim ciùil no dannsaidh a stigh. Uime sin thionndaidh e air falbh, ach mu'n deachaidh e ro fhada air a shlighe, chunnaic e a' bhean-shìthe a' tilleadh o'n allt, agus anns an dol seachad ghlaodh i ris mar air a' cheud oidhche: "Aonghais Mhóir, is leat féin do bhean agus do mhac, ma dh' innseas tu dìomhaireachd na Ban-rìgh againne air Drochaid an Easain Duibh air feasgar Di-haoine so a' tighinn."

Another evening, as he was returning from the hill, he reached the rock from which he last heard the voice. He stood still at the end of it, and listened for a while, but not a syllable did he hear. He then went forward, until he came in sight of the Fairy Knoll. On looking the way of the door, he beheld a light shining inside, but he heard not a sound of music or dancing, so he turned away; but before he had gone far on his way, he saw the fairy returning from the brook, and in passing she called to him as she had done the first night: "Angus Mór, thy wife and son are thine, if thou canst tell the secret of our Queen on the Bridge of Easan Dubh on the evening of next Friday."

Chuir an rabhadh a fhuair e mar so an dara h-uair càil-eiginn de dh' iomagain air Aonghas, gu sònraichte a chionn nach robh fios aige ciod a dh' fhaodadh tighinn as.

The warning, which he thus got the second time, caused Angus some anxiety, especially as he knew not what might be the outcome.

Ràinig e an tigh, agus choinnich a bhean e anns an dorus. Thug i fa-near gu'n robh ni-eigin ag cur dragha air a inntinn, agus le sin dh'fheòraich i dheth an t-aobhar. Dh' innis e dhi gach ni a chunnaic agus a chuala e aig an t-Sìthean.

He reached the house, and his wife met him at the door. She noticed that something was troubling his mind, so she asked him the cause, and he told her everything he had seen and heard at the Fairy Knoll.

"Aonghais, a ghaoil nam fear," ars a bhean, "na cuireadh ni dheth sin iomagain ort. Fhuair thu mise mu'n do ruith a' bhliadhna mach, agus le sin na cuireadh mise cùram tuilleadh ort." "A bhean, cha'n 'eil mi 'gad thuigsinn," ars Aonghas. An sin thubhairt i: "Mu thuaiream bliadhna roimhe so thàinig laigse orm, agus mi a' dol seachad air an t-Sìthean. Shuidh mi sìos, agus an ùine ghoirid thuit mi am chadal. An uair a dhùisg mi, bha mi anns an aon àite bu bhrèagha a chunnaic mi riamh agus air mo chuartachadh le fir agus le mnathan ag cur ri dannsadh. Dh' fheuch mi ri dol a mach, ach ge b'e taobh a ghabhainn, bhitheadh na sìthichean-oir b' iad a bh' ann—romham. Mu dheireadh thubhairt fear aca a bha a réir coltais 'na cheannard air càch: 'Ainnir dhonn nam mìogshuil, gheibh thu mach, ma gheallas tu gu'm bi thu ad mhnaoi agam-sa, mur faigh thu do roghainn gràidh r'a phòsadh mu 'n tig bliadhna o'n nochd.' Bha mi cho toileach faotainn as is gu'n d'thug mi dha mo ghealladh. Ach, Aonghais, bu tusa mo roghainn a dh'fhir an domhain; agus o'n fhuair mi thu mu'n do ruith an ùine mach, tha mi nis saor o'n ghealladh a thug mi dha."

"Angus, dearest of men," said his wife, "let none of these things make thee anxious. We have married before the year has run out, so do not let me cause thee anxiety any longer." "Wife, I do not understand thee," said Angus. Then she said: "About a year ago a faintness came over me as I was passing the Fairy Knoll. I sat down on the Knoll, and, in a short time, fell asleep. When I awoke I was in the finest place I ever beheld, and surrounded by men and women busy dancing. I tried to go out, but whichever way I took, the fairies—for it was they—would be before me. At last one of them, who seemed to be chief over the rest, said: "Brown-haired maiden of the laughing eyes, thou wilt get out if thou promise to be my wife, unless thou get thy chosen love in marriage before the end of the year from this night." I was so eager to get away that I gave him my promise. But, Angus, thou wert my choice of the men of the Universe; and since I have got thee before the time ran out, I am free from the promise I gave him."

Air feasgar Di-haoine bha Aonghas Mór a' tilleadh as a' mhonadh aon uair eile, agus an uair a ràinig e Drochaid an Easain Duibh, chuimhnich e gu'm b' ann an sin a bha aige ri dìomhaireachd Ban-rìgh nan Sìthichean innseadh. Sheas e car tacain air mullach na Drochaide, ach cha robh e fada an sin gus an cuala e an aon ghuth bu bhinne a dh' éisd e riamh ris anns an allt fuidhe. Thug e caol-shùil thar barran na Drochaide, agus cò a chunnaic e ag glanadh agus a' fùcadh aodaich air cloich anns an uisge ach a' Bhan-rìgh, agus b'e so an t-òran a bha i a' seinn:—

On Friday evening Angus Mór was once more returning from the hill, and when he arrived at the Bridge of Easan Dubh, he remembered it was there he was to tell the secret of the Queen of the Fairies. He stood a while on the top of the Bridge, but he was not long there when he heard in the brook under him the very sweetest voice he ever listened to. He gave a peep over the parapet of the Bridge, and whom did he see cleaning and rubbing clothes on a stone in the water, but the Queen, and this was the song she was singing:—

Séist.

Thoirionn O Ró Thùraibh Thoró,
Thoirionn O is na Thùraibh Othó,
Thoirionn O Ró Thùraibh Thoró.

I.

'S aithne dhomh 'Bheinn Mhór am Muile,
'S aithne dhomh mullach Sguirr Eige,
'S aithne dhomh 'n cat a bha 'n Ulbha,
Agus 'earball ris an teine.

II.

Tha ceòl an talla mo ghràidh,
'S tha òr an talamh MhicAidh;
Ach tha òran an Inbhir Nis
Air nach fhaighear fios gu bràth.

Chorus.

Horin O Ró Hooriv Horó,
Horin O is na Hooriv ohó,
Horin O Ró Hooriv Horó.

I.

I know Ben More in Mull,
I know the top of Scuir Eigg,
I know the cat that was in Ulva
With its tail turned to the fire.

II.

There is music in the hall of my dear,
There is gold in the land of Mackay;
But there is a song in Inverness
Which shall never be known.

An uair a chrìochnaich i an t-òran, ghlaodh Aonghas Mér o mhullach na Drochaide: "Ge b' oil leat, a bhean, tha thu cearr. Tha h-uile facal ad òran agam-sa nis, agus do dhìomhaireachd maille ris." Chlisg a' Bhan-rìgh leis na briathraibh so, agus thug i sgreuch eagail aiste. Thog i an sin suas a ceann, agus an uair a chunnaic i Aonghas air an Drochaid, thubhairt i: "Rinn thu an gnothach orm. Is leat féin do bhean agus do mhac a nis." Agus an déidh dhi so a ràdh, chaidh i as an t-sealladh, agus cha'n fhaca e tuilleadh i.

When she ended the song, Big Angus cried from the top of the Bridge: "In spite of thee, woman, thou art wrong. I have now every word of thy song, and thy secret with it." At these words the Queen started, and uttered a scream. She then lifted up her head, and when she beheld Angus on the Bridge, she said: "Thou hast foiled me. Thy wife and son are now thine own." After saying this she went out of sight, and he saw her no more.