if he were dead. His dying attitude was so life-like, propped up with spears, that the raven, returning, could only say:
"The eye looks askance,
And the mouth is awry."
Everyone knows how intent the lapwing is upon misleading you as to the whereabouts of its nest. The words of its shrill cry are "Little Murdoch, don't harry my nest" (Mhurchadh bheg, na creach mo nid).
The crested lark is held sacred and is called endearingly "uisiag Moire," lark of Mary.
The hedge-sparrow (glaissean) is blessed, though not lucky. Often before the death of a child two or three will come about the door every day for a fortnight.
The seal, like the swan, is the bewitched child of a king, and its hand-like paws are all that remain of its human state.
It is dangerous to eat the head of an eel, for eels are subject to madness and liable to communicate the disease. Our informant was asked if he knew of any definite case of such infection, and he instanced a friend of his own who was saved only by being caused to vomit just when his head was beginning to go wrong. He told us also the story of a man who killed a trout and an eel; he gave his wife the trout and ate the eel himself. He shortly became insane, but not before he had warned his wife to fly to her brother's house for safety. The brother went next day to visit his afflicted relative, and found that he had killed his horse and was eating the raw flesh, so, to prevent further mischief, he shot him. It was considered best for himself to leave the country, and he went to Ben Mohr in South Uist, where his descendants still live; one of whom—our informant—is still known as Mac Ian, Mac Ian, Mac Donald of the Horse (the son of Ian, the son of Ian, the son of Donald).
A man, fond of fishing, was asked what he had taken. "Devil a fin," said he, though his creel was full of trout.
