Folk Tales and Fairy Lore/Iain Dubh Leodhasach, Seoladair, Black-haired John of Lewis
B' e mac iasgair a bh' ann an Iain Dubh. An uair a bha e 'na bhalachan beag, bhàthadh 'athair, agus an déidh sin thogadh e le bràthair 'athar. Bha e a' fuireachd goirid as do'n Acarsaid Mhóir an Leódhas, far am b' àbhaist da bhi 'g iasgach, agus a' faicinn nan soithichean a bha 'tadhal na h-Acarsaid. Ghabh e mar so spéis mhór do'n mhuir, agus mu dheireadh cha'n fhoghnadh ceàird air bith leis, ach a bhi 'na sheòladair.
A fisher's son was Black-haired John. When he was a little boy his father was drowned, and after that he was brought up by his uncle. He lived a short distance from the Great Anchorage (now Stornoway), in Lewis. There he used to fish, and see the vessels that frequented the Anchorage. He thus took a great liking for the sea, and at length no trade would please him but to be a sailor.
Air feasgar àraidh chunnaic e long bhrèagh a' tighinn fo làn-aodaich a stigh do'n chala, agus bha leis nach fac' e riamh roimhe sealladh 'bu bhòidhche. Leum e stigh 'na bhàt'-iasgaich beag féin agus mu'n d' ràinig acair na luinge an grunnd, bha e air bòrd oirre. Dh'fheith e gus an robh a h-aodach paisgte, agus an sin dhìrich e aon de na croinn, agus thòisich e air ruith a mach 's a stigh air na slataibh agus air streap air na ruip, mar chunnaic e na seòladairean a' deanamh. Thug an Sgiobair fa-near cho dàna, tapaidh 's a bha e, agus cho luath 's a theirinn e as a' chrann; agus dh’fheòraich e dheth am bu mhath leis a bhi 'na sheòladair? Fhreagair Iain Dubh nach robh ni air bith air an t-saoghal a b' fhearr leis.
On a certain evening he saw a fine ship coming into the haven under full sail, and it seemed to him that never before had he seen a more beautiful sight. He sprang into his own little fishing boat, and before the ship's anchor reached the bottom, he was on board of her. He waited until her sails had been furled, and then he ascended one of the masts, and began to run out and in on the yards, and to climb the ropes as he saw the sailors do. The Captain noticed how bold and active he was, and as soon as he descended from the mast, he asked him whether he would like to be a sailor? Black John answered that there was nothing in the world he would like better.
"Falbh dhachaidh, ma-tà," ars an Sgiobair, "agus faigh cead d' athar, agus thigibh le chéile 'n so am màireach, agus ma chòrdas sibh féin agus mise, leigidh mise leat falbh còmhla rium-sa, agus an t-seòladaireachd ionnsachadh. Thubhairt Iain Dubh nach robh 'athair beò, ach gu'n iarradh e cead bràthair 'athar. Dh' fhoghainn sin leis an Sgiobair, agus dh'fhalbh Iain Dubh dhachaidh le cabhaig mhóir.
"Go home, then," said the Captain, "and get thy father's leave, and to-morrow come ye here together; and if ye and I agree, I will let thee go away with me and learn sailoring." Black John said that his father was not living, but that he would ask his uncle for leave to go. That satisfied the Captain, and John went home in great haste.
Moch air an ath latha thill e air ais 'na ruith 's 'na leum, agus mu'n gann a fhuair e air bòrd, thubhairt e le gàirdeachas gu'n d' fhuair e làn-chead o bhràthair 'athar falbh leis an luing. "Agus an d' thubhairt e diog riut mu mhuinntireas a ghabhail?" ars an Sgiobair. "O, thubhairt," fhreagair Iain Dubh, "tha mi ri mi féin a cheangal ris an luing fad chóig bliadhna, chum gu'n ionnsaich mi an t-seòladaireachd gu ceart." "Agus gu dà a thubhairt e riut mu thuarasdal?" "Thubhairt gu'n robh mi ri bonn-a-sè fhaotainn aig ceann a' cheud mhiosa agus da bhonn-a-sè aig ceann an dara mìosa, a' dùblachadh mar sin duais gach mìosa gu deireadh nan cóig bliadhna."
Early next day he returned, running and leaping, and scarcely had he got on board when he said with joy that he had got his uncle's full permission to go with the ship. "And did he say nothing to thee about taking an engagement?" said the Captain. "O yes," answered John, "I am to bind myself to the ship for five years that I may learn seamanship aright." "And what did he say to thee about wages?" "He said that I was to get a half-penny at the end of the first month, two half-pennies at the end of the second month, and so doubling the wages of each succeeding month to the close of the five years."
Rinn an Sgiobair glag mór gàire air tuarasdal Iain Duibh, agus gun smuainteachadh roimh làimh air ciod a bha e 'dol a dheanamh, thubhairt e: "Gheibh thu sin, a laochain"; agus chaidh Iain a cheangal ris an luing le bann-céirde.
The Captain laughed aloud at Black John's wages, and without thinking beforehand of what he was about to do, he said: "Thou shalt get that, my little hero," and John was then bound to the ship by a deed of indenture.
Air an ath latha sheòl an long a mach as an Acarsaid, agus chaidh i air turus-cuain do dhùthaich fad' air falbh. Ràinig i an t-àite gus an robh i ri dol, agus dh'fhuirich i fada thairis, ach aig ceann cheithir bliadhna phill i air a h-ais do Shasunn, agus ann an toiseach na cóigeamh bliadhna de mhuinntireas Iain Duibh, ràinig i 'm baile-puirt d'am buineadh i.
On the following day the ship sailed out of the Anchorage, and went on a long voyage to a far away country. She reached the seaport to which she was bound, and stayed a long time abroad, but at the end of four years she returned to England; and in the beginning of the fifth year of Black John's engagement, she arrived at the seaport to which she belonged.
Thàinig a sealbhadairean air bòrd oirre, agus an déidh dhoibh an Sgiobair fhàilteachadh, thòisich iad air amharc mu thimchioll na luinge.
Her owners came on board, and after welcoming the Captain they began to look over the ship.
Bha Iain Dubh air fàs 'na ghille gasda agus 'na sheòladair taghta. Ach fathast cha d'fhuair e peighinn a thuarasdail, na b' fhaide na tasdan no dhà a nis 's a rithist an uair a bhitheadh e 'dol air tìr leis na seòladairean eile anns na bailtibh-puirt 'san robh iad a' tadhal. Ni mó a smuaintich an Sgiobair air an t-suim gus an tigeadh tuarasdal a' ghille a dheanamh suas, gus an d' thàinig na sealbhadairean air bòrd. An sin dh' fheòraich aon diubh: "C'àit' an d'fhuair e 'm balach seòladair a bh' aige an sud?" Fhreagair e gu'n d'fhuair e ann an Eilean Leódhais e. "Is gu dé 'n ùine a tha e agad? " "Tha còrr is ceithir bliadhna." "Agus gu dé 'n duais a tha thu a' toirt da? Cha'n 'eil teagamh nach 'eil thu 'toirt da duaise maithe; oir is e seòladair cho tapaidh 's a chunnaic sinn riamh."
Black John had grown into a fine lad and an excellent sailor. But he had not yet got a penny of his wages further than a shilling or two now and again when he happened to go ashore with the other sailors at the ports where they called. Nor did the Captain think of reckoning the sum to which the lad's wages would amount, until the owners came on board. Then one of them asked where did he get the sailor boy he had yonder? The Captain answered that he got him in the Island of Lewis. "And how long hast thou had him?" "I have had him more than four years." "And what wages art thou giving him? No doubt thou art giving him a good wage, for he is as clever a sailor as we have ever seen?"
Rinn an Sgiobair fèith-ghàire agus thubhairt e: "Ma-tà, cha d'thug mise duais air bith dha fhathast. Ach dh'iarr e féin gu'm bitheadh ceangal chóig bliadhna air a chur air, agus gu'm faigheadh e mar dhuais bonn-a-sè aig ceann a' cheud mhìosa, dà bhonna-sè aig ceann an dara mìosa, agus 'dùbladh mar sin duais gach mìosa a leanadh gu deireadh nan cóig bliadhna. Agus an ni a dh'iarr e, gheall mise dha am fala-dhà, agus cha b' ann le rùn a phàidheadh a réir 'iarrtais.
The Captain smiled and said: "Well, I have given him no wages yet, but he himself asked that he should be bound for five years, and that he should receive for wages a half-penny at the end of the first month, two half-pennies at the end of the second month, and so doubling the wage of each successive month to the end of the five years. And what he asked I promised him in a joke, and not with the intention of paying him according to his request."
"An do smaoinich thu roimh làimh air ciod a bha thu 'dol a dheanamh? Gheall thu do'n ghille tuilleadh na 's fhiach an long agus na choisinn i o'n cheud là a chaidh i air sàile."
"Didst thou think beforehand of what thou wert going to do? Thou hast promised the lad more than the ship is worth, and more than she has earned since the first day she was launched."
Air tùs cha do chreid an Sgiobair so, ach an uair a chunnaic e gu'n robh e fìor, ghabh e nàire agus aimheal mór. Mu dheireadh thubhairt e:
At first the Captain did not believe this; but when he saw it was true, he was struck with great shame and regret. At length he said:
"Is gu dé nì sinn?" Fhreagair na sealbhadairean: "Cha'n 'eil ach aon ni is urrainn thu a dheanamh. Falbhaidh tu air an ath thurus-cuain gun dàil, agus bheir thu deagh aire gu'n cum thu astar math bho fhearann air an latha mu dheireadh de mhuinntireas a' ghille. Bheir sinne dhuit na th' againn a dh'airgiod ann an tri pocaibh, agus their thu ris aig dà uair dheug air an la mu dheireadh d'a ùine gu'm bheil a thuarasdal agad anns na pocaibh, agus gu'm faigh e iad, ma dh' fhàgas e 'n long leò an sin; ach mur fàg, gu'm pàidh thu e 'na dhéidh sin, mar thoilicheas tu féin."
"What shall we do?" The owners answered: "There is only one thing thou canst do. Thou shalt go away on the next voyage without delay, and thou shalt take good care to keep a good distance from land on the last day of the lad's engagement. We will give thee in three bags all the money we possess.On the last day of his time at twelve o'clock, say to him that thou hast his wages in the bags, and that he will get them if he will then leave the ship with them; but if he will not, then after that thou shalt pay him as thou pleasest."
Thubhairt an Sgiobair, duilich 's mar bha sin leis a dheanamh, gu'm feuchadh e r'a dheanamh.
The Captain said that, hard as it was for him to do that, he would try to do it.
Cho luath 's a fhuair an Sgiobair gach ni deas, dh'fhalbh e air an ath thurus-fairge. Ràinig e 'n t-àite gus an robh e ri dol gu tèaruinte, agus an déidh dha 'n luchd a liubhairt, phill e air an t-slighe air an d’thàinig e. Ruith ùine Iain Duibh a mach mu'n d’thàinig an long an sealladh fearainn, agus air an là mu dheireadh d'a ùine thairg an Sgiobair dha a thuarasdal air chumhnant gu'm fàgadh e 'n long air ball. "Uile cheart," ars Iain. "Ma gheibh mi mo dhuais, fàgaidh mi 'n long air a' mhionaid so. Ach an toir thu dhomh d uair de'n t-saor, a dheanamh ràtha air mo shon?" "Gheibh thu sin, agus fiodh cuideachd," ars an Sgiobair; oir bha e duilich dealachadh ri Iain, agus toileach a chuideachadh.
As soon as the Captain got everything ready, he departed on the next sea voyage. He reached the place whither he was bound in safety, and having delivered his cargo, returned the way he came. Black John's time ran out before the ship had come in sight of land, and on the last day of his time the Captain offered him his wages on condition that he would leave the ship at once." All right," said John. "If I get my wages I will leave the ship this moment, but wilt thou give me two hours of the carpenter's time to make a raft for me?" "Thou shalt get that, and wood too," said the Captain; for he was sorry to part with John, and willing to help him.
An uair a bha 'n ràth deas, chaidh e leigeil sìos thar taobh na luinge. Fhuair Iain mar a dhuais aon phoca làn òir, poca eile làn airgid, agus treas poca làn copair. Chuir e iad gun fhosgladh air an ràth maille ri poca bhriosgaid, agus searrag dhìghe, agus phùc e 'n ràth air falbh o thaobh na luinge. Thog an sgioba iolach tri uairean 'san dealachadh, agus an sin dh'fhalbh an long air a slighe.
When the raft was ready it was lowered over the ship's side. John received as his wages one bag full of gold, another of silver, and a third of copper. He placed them unopened on the raft with a bag of biscuits and a bottle of drink, and he pushed the raft away from the side of the ship. The crew raised a shout three times at parting, and then the ship went off on her way.
Bha i 'dol na b' fhaide bhuaith gach mionaid, 's an oidhche 'tighinn. Mu dheireadh thàinig an oidhche, agus thug an dorchadas as a shealladh i. An sin thòisich Iain bochd air fàs trom-inntinneach, is gun fhios aige ciod a thachradh dha, mu'n tigeadh an ath latha. Mu dheireadh smaointich e gu'm feuchadh e gu dé 'n stuth a bh' anns an t-searrag. Thug e srùbag aiste, agus dh'fhairich e gu'n d'thug sin eutromachadh air 'inntinn. Mu mheadhon-oidhche thug an cadal thairis e, agus cha do dhùisg e ach gus an robh an latha 'bristeadh. Bha 'n sin fathan bòidheach gaoithe ag iomain an ràtha roimhe. Chuir Iain seachad tri oidhchean agus tri làithean air an ràth. Ach air feasgar an treas là chunnaic e fearann roimhe agus ann an dorchadh na h-oidhche bhuail an ràth air a' chladach anns an aon phort bu bhòidhche 'chunnaic e riamh bho oir tuinne gu bun coille.
Every minute she was going further away and night was coming. At length night fell, and the darkness took her out of his sight. Then poor John began to grow dejected, not knowing what would happen before the next day dawned. At last he thought he would see what stuff was in the bottle. He took a toothful from it, and felt that that had lightened his mind. About midnight sleep overpowered him and he did not awake till day was breaking. There was then a nice breeze of wind driving the raft before it. John passed three nights and three days on the raft. But on the evening of the third day he beheld land ahead of him, and in the darkening of the night the raft struck the shore in a bay, from margin of wave to border of wood, the very prettiest he had ever seen.
Leum Iain Seòldair air tìr, toilichte gu'n d'fhuair e, aon uair eile, leud a bhuinn a dh' fhearann fodha. Thug e leis na pocanna gu bràigh a' chladaich, far an d'fholaich e iad anns a' ghainmhich. Shlaod e 'n sin an ràth suas gu oir na coille; oir thubhairt e ris féin: "Cha'n 'eil fios nach dean e feum do dhuine eile fhathast."
John the Sailor sprang ashore, glad that he had once more got the breadth of his soles of land under him. He took the bags with him to the top of the beach, where he hid them in the sand. He then drew the raft up to the border of the wood, for he said to himself: "There is no saying but that it may yet be useful to another man."
Bhuail e 'n sin a stigh do'n choille, feuch an tachradh e air tigh anns am faigheadh e fuireachd. Ach ged shiubhail e fad na h-oidhche, cha'n fhac' e tigh no treabhair. Mu bheul an latha thug e sùil roimhe, agus chunnaic e goirid as smùid ag éirigh aig bun stalla mór creige. Rinn e dìreach air, agus gu dé bha 'n sin ach turasgal mór dubh de thigh coltach ri seann mhuileann. Bha e a' toirt thairis le sgìos agus le cadal, agus le sin bhuail e stigh gun chead iarraidh no fhaotainn.
He then struck into the wood to see if he could fall in with a house where he might stay. But, though he travelled the night long, he saw neither house nor hald. About daybreak he gave a glance ahead of him, and saw a short distance off smoke ascending from the foot of a high precipice. He made straight for it, and what was there but a big black clumsy building like an old mill. He was ready to drop with fatigue and sleep, and so he walked in without leave asked or obtained.
Bha boireannach dreachmhor 'na suidhe taobh an teine roimhe; agus an uair a thug i 'n aire dha, chaidh i 'm fiamh mór, oir cha robh i cleachdte ri luchd-siubhail fhaicinn a' tighinn an rathad. Ach an ùine ghoirid ghlac i de mhisnich gu'n d’fheòraich i dheth co as a thàinig e? Fhreagair e gu'm bu sheòladair bochd e, a shnàmh gu tìr á long a chaidh fuidhe fad' a mach air a' mhuir. Thug i da biadh agus deoch, agus ghuidh i air cabhag a dheanamh, agus a bhi mach as an tigh cho luath 's a b' urrainn e. Dh' fheòraich e dhith c'arson; agus fhreagair ise gu'n robh seachd robairean a' fuireachd anns an tigh; agus na'n tigeadh iad mu'm fàgadh e, nach leigeadh iad as beò e. Dh’fheòraich e 'n sin c'uin a thigeadh iad? Fhreagair ise gu'n robh dùil aice riu gach mionaid. "Thigeadh iad, ma-tà," ars Iain Seòladair. "O'n fhuair mise stigh, cha téid mi mach, gus am faigh mi lochdan cadail." "Ma-tà," ars am boireannach, "dean thusa do roghainn féin, ach tha eagal orm-sa gu'm bi aithreachas ort, nach do ghabh thu mo chomhairle-sa." "Bitheadh sin mar sin, no gun bhith; ach innis thusa dhomh-sa 'n dràsda c’àit' am faigh mi mi féin a shìneadh agus greis fhoise a ghabhail."Rinn am boireannach sin, agus ann an tiota bha e 'n suain chadail.
A handsome woman sat at the fireside before him; and when she noticed him, she was much alarmed, for she was not accustomed to see travellers coming the way. In a short time, however, she gathered courage enough to ask him whence he came. He replied that he was a poor sailor who had swam ashore from a ship which sank far out at sea. She gave him food and drink, and begged of him to make haste and be gone from the house as quick as he could. He asked the reason, and she replied that seven robbers stayed in the house; and if they arrived before he left, they would not let him go with his life. He then asked when they would come. She answered that she expected them every minute. "Let them come, then," said John the Sailor. "Since I got in, I will not go out until I get a little wink of sleep." "Well," said the woman, "do as thou pleasest; but I fear thou shalt repent of not taking my advice." "Be that as it may, but in the meantime tell me where I can stretch myself and take a while of rest." The woman did that, and at once he was sound asleep.
Cha robh fhios aige gu dé co fhada 's a chaidil e, ach b' i bruidhinn àrd nan robairean a dhùisg e. Chual' e iad a' feòraich c’àit' an robh e? Dh'innis am boireannach sin daibh, agus gun dàil mionaide, chaidh iad far an robh e, agus dh’fheòraich iad dheth gu dé chuir an sud e? Dh'innis e dhaibh an t-aobhar mar dh'innis e do'n bhoireannach. " Ma-tà," ars aon aca, "is robairean a tha annainne, agus cha'n 'eil sinn a' leigeil le duine, a thig an rathad so, dol as beò." "Ha! ha!" ghlaodh Iain Dubh, "nach mi 'tha toilichte gu'n do thachair bràithrean céirde dhomh fhéin orm. B' i 'n robaireachd mo cheàird am dhùthaich féin, gus am b' éiginn domh teicheadh agus a' mhuir a thoirt orm. Ma ghabhas sibh-se leibh mi, geallaidh mi gu'm bi mi cho dìleas ri aon air bith anns a' chuideachd."
He knew not how long he slept, but it was the loud talk of the robbers that awoke him. He heard them ask where he was. The woman told them that, and without a moment's delay they came where he was, and asked him what brought him there? He told them the reason, as he had told it to the woman. "Well," said one of them, "we are robbers, and we suffer no man who comes this way to escape alive." "Ha, ha!" said Black John, "how pleased I am that I have met with fellow-craftsmen of my own. Robbing was my trade in my native country till I was forced to flee, and betake myself to the sea. If you take me with you, I will promise to be as true as any one in the band."
"Nì do choltas an gnothuch," ars aon aca, "agus tha do sheanachas a' dearbhadh gu'm bheil thu misneachail. Bheir sinn cothrom dhuit a dhearbhadh gu dé 's urrainn thu 'dheanamh. Gheibh thu 'n là màireach a ghabhail foise, ach 'na dhéidh sin gabhaidh gach aon againn a rathad féin, agus am fear a bheir dhachaidh an tuilleadh creiche fad tri oidhchean, bithidh e 'na cheannard air càch, agus cha bhi ni aige r'a dheanamh, ach cùram a ghabhail de'n tigh, am feadh 'bhios a chompanaich air falbh." Chòrd so gu math ri Iain, agus dh' fhuirich e aig an tigh gus an d'thàinig ceud là na deuchainne.
"Thy appearance will do," said one of them, "and thy language proves thee to be courageous. We will give thee an opportunity to prove what thou canst do. Thou shalt get to-morrow to rest; but after that every one of us will take his own way, and he who brings home most spoil for three nights will be chief over the rest, and will have nothing to do but to take care of the house while his companions are away." This pleased John well, and he stayed at home till the first day of trial came.
An sin dh' fhalbh e agus ghabh e mar rinn gach aon de'n bhuidheann, a rathad féin. An uair a thàinig an oidhche, phill e dhachaidh leis a' phocan chopair, a dh' fhalaich e làimh ris an tràigh, agus cha robh aig aon de 'n chuideachd uibhir ris. Dh'fhalbh e 'n ath latha, agus phill e 'san oidhche leis a' phocan airgid, agus ma rinn e na b' fhearr na 'chompanaich a' cheud là, rinn e seachd feabhas riu an là sin. Air an treas là dh'fhalbh e air-son an uair mu dheireadh, agus thug e dhachaidh am pocan òir. Dhòirt e na bh' ann air an ùrlar, agus dh' fheòraich e an d' rinn aon air bith aca na b' fhearr? Fhreagair iad uile nach d'rinn, agus a chionn gu'n robh esan cho math ri 'ghealladh ris-san, gu'm bitheadh iad-san cho math ri 'n gealladh ris-san, agus rinn iad e 'na cheannard thairis orra uile.
Then he went off and took his own way, as did every one of the band. When night came he returned home with the little bag of copper which he had hidden near the shore; and none of the company had as much. He started off next day, and returned at night with the little bag of silver; and if he had done better than his comrades the first night, he did seven times better that day. On the third day he went out for the last time, and brought home the little bag of gold. He poured out all it contained on the floor, and asked if any of them had done better. They all answered that they had not; and as he was as good as his promise to them, they would be as good as their promise
to him, and they made him chief over them all.
Air an ath latha dh'fhalbh na robairean a shireadh am fortain, ach dh'fhuirich Iain aig an tigh. Cho luath 's a fhuair e leis féin, smuaintich e air an tigh a rannsachadh. Thug e nuas pasg mór iuchraichean, a chunnaic e crochte air tarrainn anns a' bhalla, agus dh'fhosgail e leò gach seòmar 'san tigh ach an aon. Bha iuchair an aoin sin falaichte aig a' bhoireannach, agus dhiùilt i an toiseach dealachadh rithe. Ach air do Iain innseadh dhi gu'm b' esan a nis an ceannard, agus gu'm feumadh i bhi ùmhal da, thug i suas an iuchair.
Next day the robbers went away to seek their fortune, while John stayed at home. As soon as he found himself alone he bethought him that he would search the house. He took down a big bunch of keys he saw hanging on a nail in the wall, and with them he opened every room in the house save one. The key of that one the woman had hidden, and she at first refused to part with it. However, when John told her that he was now chief, and that she must be obedient to him, she gave up the key.
An sin dh'fhosgail e dorus an t-seòmair uaignich, agus chunnaic e roimhe sealladh a chuir déisinn air. Bha bean-uasal, cho bòidheach, dreachmhor 's air an do dhearc sùil riamh, an crochadh air fhalt ri croman am mullach an t-seòmair, agus bhàrr a h-òrdag a' beantainn air éiginn do'n ùrlar. Leum e d'a h-ionnsaidh, dh' fhuasgail e a falt, agus leig e sìos i, a réir coltais marbh. Bha i greis ann an neul, ach an uair a thàinig i as, dh'innis e dhi ciamar a thàinig esan do'n àit' ud,
agus an sin dh'innis ise dha-san mar thugadh ise ann. B' i nighean Rìgh na Spàinte. Chaidh dithis de na robairean a ghlacadh aig Caisteal an Rìgh, agus a chionn gu'n do chuireadh gu bàs iad le 'h-athair, bhóidich càch nach gabhadh iad fois gus an deanadh iad dìoghaltas air. B' e 'n dìoghaltas a rinn iad ise 'ghlacadh, an uair a bha i ag gabhail sràide mu thimchioll a' Chaisteil, a toirt leò do'n àite féin, agus a pianadh le 'fàgail crochta, mar fhuair Iain Dubh i.
Then he opened the door of the secret chamber, and saw before him a sight which made him shudder. A lady, as beautiful and as handsome as eye ever beheld, was hanging by her hair from a crook in the ceiling of the room, and the points of her toes were scarcely touching the floor. He sprang to where she was, unloosed her hair, and laid her down on the floor, seemingly dead. She was for a while in a swoon; but when she came out of it, he told her how he had come to that place, and then she told him the way she had been brought there. She was the daughter of the King of Spain. Two of the robbers were caught at the King's Castle, and because they were put to death by her father, the rest vowed that they would not rest till they were revenged upon him. The revenge they took was to seize her when she was taking a walk about the Castle, and carry her away to their own place, and torture her by leaving her hanging in the manner Black John had found her.
A dheanamh a' chuid so de'n sgeul goirid, theich iad o thigh nan robairean, a' toirt leò uibhir 's a b' urrainn daibh a ghiùlan a dh' r agus de nithe luachmhor, maille ri lòn air-son na slighe. Ghabh iad gach rathad a b' uaigniche na chéile, gus an d' thàinig oidhche. Chunnaic iad an sin bothan-àirighe air thoiseach orra, agus rinn iad dìreach air. Cha robh iad fada 'ga ruigheachd. Chaidh iad a stigh, agus ged fhuair iad falamh e, bha e, a réir coltais, goirid roimhe sin air àiteachadh. Coma co dhiùbh, chuir iad rompa an oidhche a chaitheamh ann, mar a b' fhearr a dh'fhaodadh iad. Greis an déidh dhoibh dol a stigh, chual' iad borbhan coltach ri bruidhinn daoine aig taobh mach an doruis. Shaoil iad an toiseach gu'm b' iad na robairean a bh' ann, agus gu'n robh iad a' cagarsaich ri chéile a muigh. Ach cha b' fhada gus an do thuig iad nach d' thàinig na guthanna caola, fanna a bha iad a' cluinntinn, aon chuid o na robairean, no bho chreutairean saoghalta air bith. Mu dheireadh leum Iain Dubh air a chasaibh ag ràdh gu'm biodh fios aige-san, an tiota, ciod no co bhuaith a thàinig iad. Le sin dh'fhosgail e 'n dorus, ach dàna 's mar bha e, thug an sealladh, a chunnaic e roimhe, clisgeadh air. Bha tri colainnean 'nan seasamh m'a choinneamh, le'n cinn aca eadar an làmhan. "A dhaoine còire," ars Iain, "gu d tha sibh ag iarraidh?" "Is sinn," fhreagair iad, "athair agus d mhac a mharbhadh anns a' bhothan so le robairean agus a thiodhlacadh air cùl an tighe; ach a chionn nach deachaidh gach ceann a chur maille r'a cholainn féin, cha'n 'eil sinne 'faotainn foise. Ma chuireas tusa ar cinn far am bu chòir dhaibh a bhi, theagamh gu'n dean sinne uibhir ri sin air do shon-sa fathast." Fhreagair Iain gu'n deanadh esan mar dh'iarr iad air, na'n leigeadh iad fhaicinn da far an robh na cinn, agus c’àit' am b' àill leò an cur. Chaidh iad leis agus rinn e gach ni mar sheòl iad dha, agus an uair a bha gach ni seachad, chaidh iad as an t-sealladh.
To shorten this part of the tale, they fled from the house of the robbers, taking with them as much as they could carry of gold and precious things, with food for the journey. They took the most unfrequented paths, until night came. They then beheld a shieling bothy before them, and made straight for it. They were not long in reaching it. They went in, and though they found it empty, it had seemingly been occupied shortly before. No matter, they resolved to pass the night there as well as they could. Some time after they entered they heard a murmur like the conversation of men outside the door. At first they thought it was the robbers, and that they were whispering to one another without. Soon, however, they understood that the small weak voices they were hearing came neither from the robbers nor from any earthly creatures. At length Black John sprang to his feet, saying that he would know presently from what, or from whom, the noises came. So he opened the door, but bold as he was, the sight before him startled him. Three human bodies, holding their heads between their hands stood before him. "Honest men," said John, "what do you want?" "We," replied they, "are a father and two sons who were murdered by robbers in this bothy, and buried behind the house; but, as every head was not placed with its own body, we find no rest. If thou wilt place our heads where they ought to be, perhaps we may yet do as much for thee." John replied that he would do as they asked him, if they would show him where the heads were, and where they would like them placed. They went with him, and he did everything as they directed him: and when all was over, they went out of sight.
An ath latha dh’fhàg Iain Dubh agus nighean an Rìgh am bothan, agus cha do stad iad, gus an d' ràinig iad am baile-puirt a b' fhaigse dhoibh. Phòs iad an sin, agus chuir iad suas tigh-òsda leis an òr a thug iad á tigh nan robairean. Bha iad gu sona, soirbheach an sin, gus an d'thàinig long-chogaidh a stigh do'n acarsaid. Air bòrd na luinge so bha àrd-cheannard cabhlach na Spàinte, a' sireadh nighean an Rìgh chum gu'n coisneadh e i féin agus leth na rìoghachd; oir b' e sin an duais a gheall an Rìgh do'n cheannard air muir no air tìr a gheibheadh i, agus a bheireadh dhachaidh i gu tèaruinte.
Next day Black John and the King's daughter left the bothy, and they stopped not until they reached the nearest seaport. They married there, and set up an Inn with the gold they took from the house of the robbers. They were prosperous and happy there, till a war-ship came into the harbour. On board of this ship was the chief commander of the Spanish fleet, seeking the King's daughter, that he might win herself and half the kingdom; for this was the reward the King had promised to the commander on sea or on land who should find her, and bring her home in safety.
Thàinig an ceannard air tìr le fear eile de na h-oifigich, agus de gach ite, c’àit' an do thadhail iad ach an tigh Iain Duibh. Cha robh iad fada stigh 'n uair a chuir iad eòlas air Iain agus air a mhnaoi.
The commander came ashore with another officer, and of all places where did they call but at Black John's house? They were not long within when they formed an acquaintance with John and his wife.
Dh'aithnich iad gu'm b' i nighean an Rìgh; ach cha do ghabh iad sin orra, Mu'n d'fhalbh iad, thug iad cuireadh càirdeil dhi féin agus d'a fear gu dol a mach agus an long fhaicinn an ath latha. Ghabh iad le chéile ris a' chuireadh gu toileach; ach, an uair a fhuair an ceannard iad air bòrd, chuir e suas na siùil, agus chum e air aghaidh, gus an robh e astar mór a mach o fhearann. An sin dh’fhàg e Iain Dubh bochd am bàta beag gun ràmh gun sheòl, agus dh'fhalbh e.
They recognised that she was the King's daughter, but they did not make that known. Before leaving they gave herself and her husband a friendly invitation to go out next day and see the ship. They both heartily accepted the invitation; but when the commander got them on board he set sail, and kept on his way, until he was a great distance from land. There he left poor Black John in a small boat without oar or sail, and went away.
Is beag nach robh càs Iain 's a' bhàta cho cruaidh 's a bha e air an ràth. Chuir e 'n còrr de 'n là seachad gu brònach; ach, aig teachd na h-oidhche, chunnaic e sealladh a thug càil-eiginn de mhisnich dha, oir bha 'm bàta 'cumail a toisich 'san aon àird, agus falbh math oirre. An sin chunnaic e botul dìghe làidir an toiseach a' bhàta, agus an dèidh dha deoch a thoirt as, thuit e 'na chadal. Cho luath 's a dhùisg e 'n dara màireach, sheall e gach rathad, ach cha robh fearann air bith an amharc. Ach bha 'm bàta a' falbh le sgriob làidir agus ag cumail a cinn 'san àird an robh i an oidhche roimhe. Thug so tuilleadh misnich dha, gidheadh dh'fhairich e 'n latha fada gu leòir. Aig tighinn na h-oidhche thug e deoch eile as a' bhotul, agus chaidil e air. Air an treas là sheall e roimhe, agus chunnaic e fearann fad' as, agus am bàta 'deanamh dìreach air. Bha 'm ball-toisich a mach roimpe, agus tarruing chruaidh air; agus, ni a b' iongantaiche, lunn làidir air thoiseach air ceann a mach a' bhuill. Ach ciod no co a bha 'tobhadh a' bhàta, cha b' urrainn da 'bhreithneachadh no 'thuigsinn.
John's predicament in the little boat was nearly as trying as it had been on the raft. He passed the rest of the day in dejection; but on the approach of night he saw a sight which gave him some little heartening, for the boat was keeping her bow pointing steadily in one direction with a good way on her. Then he noticed a bottle of strong drink in the forepart of the boat, and after taking a draught from it he fell asleep. As soon as he awoke next day, he looked every way but no land was in sight. Still the boat was making good way and holding her head in the same direction as on the night before. This gave him more courage; yet he felt the day long enough. At the approach of night he took another drink from the bottle, and fell asleep over it. On the third morning he looked ahead, and saw land far off, and the boat making straight for it. The painter was out ahead, and a hard pull on it; and what was still more wonderful, a strong wake before the furthest out end of the rope. But what, or who, was towing the boat, he could neither conceive nor understand.
Mu dheireadh ràinig i 'n cladach agus chaidh triùir dhaoine a mach as an uisge roimpe, a' tarruing an ròpa-thoisich gus an d'fhàg iad i os ceann a' gharbh mhuir-làin. B' iad sin an triùir dhaoine d'an do chuir e 'n cinn agus an colainnean còmhla, aig cùl a' bhothain-àirighe. Agus cho luath 's a chunnaic iad cas Iain air tìr, chaidh iad as an t-sealladh.
At last she reached the shore, and three men went out of the sea before her, pulling her with the painter till they left her beyond the reach of the highest tide. These were the three men whose heads and trunks he had placed together behind the shieling bothy. As soon as they saw John's foot on land, they vanished out of sight.
Faodar an còrr de'n sgeul innseadh am beagan bhriathar. Cha phòsadh nighean an Rìgh an ceannard a fhuair i, gus am bitheadh gach saighdear agus seòladair 'san rìoghachd air an cur seachad fo uinneig a seòmair an Caisteal a h-athar. An déidh dol troimh iomadh cruaidh-chàs, ràinig Iain an Caisteal air deireadh air each uile. Bha e dìreach ann an àm. Dh'aithnich nighean an Rìgh e. Phòsadh iad a ris; agus ma tha iad beò, tha iad sona.
The rest of the tale may be told in a few words. The King's daughter would not marry the commander who found her until every soldier and sailor in the kingdom was made to pass by under her window in her father's Castle. After going through many hardships, John reached the Castle last of all. He was just in time. The King's daughter knew him. They were again married, and if they are still living they are happy.