Folk Tales of Scotland (29 page)

‘They belong to the Red Etin of Ireland,’ said the shepherd.

‘I’ve heard of him,’ said the lad, and went on his way singing a song his mother used to sing as she worked in the kitchen:

Then Andy met a man herding swine.

‘Whose pigs are these?’ he asked.

‘They belong to the Red Etin of Ireland,’ said the swineherd.

‘I’ve heard of him,’ said Andy, and sang his mother’s song:

On he went till he met a man herding goats.

‘Whose goats are these?’ he asked.

‘They belong to the Red Etin of Ireland,’ said the goatherd, ‘but look out if you’re going that way, for you’ll meet some strange beasts. They’re not sheep,
they’re not swine, and they’re not goats. I’m warning you, look out!’

So the lad went on his way, singing his mother’s song:

He sang to keep his courage up. Soon he met the strange monsters. They were not sheep with a shepherd, nor swine with a swineherd, nor goats with a goatherd. They were
TERRIBLE
! Each of them had two heads and each head had four horns, and there was no one herding them. They were so hideous the lad ran for his life. He saw a castle, and ran to it for
shelter from the terrible monsters. He knocked on the door and went in. An old wife was sitting by the kitchen fire.

‘Where do you come from?’ said she.

‘From Auchtermuchty,’ said the lad. ‘I’m a poor widow’s son and I left home to seek my fortune.’

‘You’ll need your mother’s blessing for that.’

‘I got a malison instead of a blessing,’ said Andy.

‘That’s bad,’ said the old wife. ‘This castle belongs to the Red Etin of Ireland, and he’s a real monster. He has three heads, and he’ll
be here any minute. But hide in that corner yonder, and I’ll not give you away!’

So Andy hid himself in the dark corner of the kitchen. Soon after, the Red Etin came in. One head with its two huge eyes looked into one corner, another head with its two huge eyes looked into
another corner. The third head with its two huge eyes looked into the third corner, for the Red Etin knew a stranger was hiding somewhere in the kitchen, and he shouted in a hungry voice:

Then one of the heads with its two huge eyes looked into the fourth corner of the kitchen. The Red Etin saw Andy and pulled him out with its two great big hairy hands, and said:

‘I’ll ask you three questions. If you give me the right answers, I’ll not kill you and eat your heart. But if you can’t answer them, I’ll hit you over the head with
this mallet. Now, my first question is: How many ladders do you need to reach the sky?’

‘I don’t know the answer to that,’ said Andy.

‘How long would it take to go round the earth?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Andy after a while.

‘What wood is neither bent nor straight?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Andy for the third and last time.

So the Red Etin hit him over the head with the mallet and Andy changed into a stone statue, which the Etin lifted and stood up beside the other statues in the castle.

Now, at home in Auchtermuchty, Rab the second widow’s son noticed that the knife that Andy had left in his care was dull and beginning to rust. He spoke to his mother about it:

‘Mother, our neighbour’s son must be in great danger. I’m going to look for him as I promised. Maybe I’ll seek my fortune at the same time, for we
don’t make enough out of this poor soil to pay the rent.’

His mother agreed, although she was sad he was going. She knew it would be hard work, looking after their croft without his help, but she agreed to bake him a bannock for the journey. She handed
him a cracked pitcher and said:

‘Fetch water from the well and I’ll bake you a bannock. If you bring a full pitcher, I’ll bake a large bannock, but if there’s only a little water I can only bake a small
bannock.’

Rab filled the pitcher at the well, and ran back with it. By the time he was half way, the pitcher was empty. All the water had run out through the cracks. As he went back to the well, a black
raven flew overhead and croaked:

‘Clag it with clay! Clag it with clay!’

Rab did as he was told. He took a handful of clay from beside the well and filled up the cracks in the pitcher. This time no water ran out of it.

So his mother baked him a big bannock. She blessed him from top to toe, and watched him till he was out of sight. She hoped her blessing would protect him from danger. When she went back into
her cottage she found that Rab had left her half his bannock for her breakfast.

Rab walked on and on till he met an old woman. She begged him for a bit of his oatmeal bannock. He gave her half of what he had, which left him with a quarter of the bannock his mother had baked
for him. In return the old woman gave him the wand she was carrying.

‘Take this wand,’ said she. ‘It is magic. You’ll soon learn how to use it in the Etin’s castle. I’ll get it from you when you come back this way. Till then,
it’ll keep you safe.’

Rab thanked the old woman and went on his way till he met a man herding sheep.

‘Who owns these sheep?’ asked Rab.

‘The Red Etin of Ireland,’ said the shepherd.

‘I’ve heard of him,’ said Rab, and he went on his way singing a song he had learned from his mother. On he walked till he met a man herding swine.

‘Who owns these pigs?’ asked Rab.

‘The Red Etin of Ireland,’ replied the swineherd,

‘I’ve heard of him,’ said Rab, as he went on his way singing his mother’s song.

Then he met a man herding goats.

‘Whose goats are these?’ he asked.

‘They belong to the Red Etin of Ireland,’ said the goatherd. ‘If you’re going that way, look out. You’ll meet some strange beasts. They’re not sheep,
they’re not swine and they’re not goats. I’m warning you, they’re terrible.’

Rab thanked the goatherd for his warning and went on his way, singing his mother’s song:

‘But I’m that man, and I have been born,’ said Rab to himself.

He felt confident. He had his mother’s blessing, and the magic wand the old woman had given him. He was not afraid of the Red Etin.

Then he met the monsters. They weren’t sheep with a shepherd, nor swine with a swineherd, nor goats with a goatherd. They were
TERRIBLE
. Each of them had two heads,
each head had four horns, and no one was herding them. When one of them put its two heads down and charged with its four horns, Rab ran for his life. He knew he could not run fast enough to escape,
so he waited till he felt the monster’s breath. He stepped to one side and, as the beast galloped past, he touched it with the magic wand. Immediately the monster fell down dead. The others
galloped off out of sight.

Rab walked slowly towards the castle, knocked on the door and went in. There by the fire sat an old, old woman.

‘Where have you come from?’ said she.

‘I’m from Auchtermuchty, and I left home to seek my fortune.’

‘Well, you’re not the first,’ said the old wife. ‘Did your mother give you her blessing before you left home?

‘She did,’ said Rab.

‘That’s good. You’ll need it. This castle belongs to the Red Etin of Ireland and he’s a real monster. He’ll be here any minute, but hide behind my chair. I’ll
not give you away.’

Rab hid behind the old wife’s chair. Soon the Red Etin came in, and one of his three heads looked in one corner of the room, the second head looked in another corner, and the third looked
into the third corner. The Red Etin knew a stranger was somewhere in the room, and he shouted in a loud, hungry voice:

Then one head looked over the back of the old wife’s chair, and saw the lad. With two great hairy hands, the Red Etin pulled Rab out.

‘Ho! ho! ho!’ he roared. ‘There you are! Now I’ll ask you three questions. Give me the right answer and I’ll not kill you. If you can’t answer them at all,
I’ll hit you over the head with this mallet! Here’s my first question: How many ladders do you need to reach the moon?’

‘One,’ said Rab, ‘if it’s long enough.’

‘You’re the clever one,’ said the Red Etin, and two of his six eyes closed as if one of his heads was asleep. ‘Now answer my second question: How long would it take to
travel round the earth?’

‘One day,’ said Rab, ‘if I travel as fast as the sun and moon.’

The Red Etin looked worried as the two eyes of his second head closed as though he was asleep. Then he asked his last question:

‘What kind of wood is neither bent nor straight?’

‘Sawdust,’ said Rab.

Immediately the eyes of the Red Etin’s third head closed. His legs sagged at the knees, he dropped his mallet and fell to the ground, fast asleep.

Swiftly Rab seized a long-handled axe from a corner by the door, and cut off the Red Etin’s three heads. Chop! chop! chop! Now the Red Etin lay dead on the kitchen floor.

Rab left the old wife sleeping by the fire and searched the castle for his friend. He found a row of statues, and one of them looked like Andy. He touched it with his wand, and immediately Andy
stood beside him alive and well. Then Rab touched all the other statues, and they too came to life again.

Among them was a bonny lass and she, like the others, followed Rab out of the castle. As they went they were attacked by the Red Etin’s terrible monsters, but Rab soon drove them off with
his wand and killed them one by one.

On the way home, they met the little old woman of the woods.

‘I couldn’t have managed without it,’ said Rab, as he gave her back her magic wand.

There was a great welcome for them in Auchtermuchty. Rab married the bonny lass and everyone came to the wedding. As for Rab’s mother, if she blessed him when he went away, she blessed him
twice over when he returned.

HERE
was a time when the birds of the air had a contest to see who could fly the highest.
All the birds competed except the Wren, and none could fly as high as the Eagle. So the birds made him King.

‘He must be King,’ they said. ‘He’s the biggest and strongest of us all. Not one of us can fly as high as the Eagle.’

‘I can,’ said the Wren.

‘You!’ laughed the Hawk. ‘Why the Eagle wouldn’t waste time competing with a bird as small as you!’

But the Eagle said:

‘Come, wee Wren, let’s see which of us can fly the higher!’

Off they flew, higher and higher. The Wren was soon out of sight, for she was so small. No one noticed, not even the Eagle, when she hopped on to his back and allowed herself to be carried up by
him.

When the Eagle had flown as high as he could, he called out:

‘Wee Wren! Where are you?’ And the wee Wren slipped off his back and flew above him.

‘I’m up here, Eagle,’ said she, ‘and I’m higher than you are!’

The other birds were very surprised when they heard that the Wren had flown higher than the Eagle.

‘The Eagle shall remain our King,’ they said, ‘for he’s still the biggest and strongest of us all, but the wee Wren shall be Queen, and can have twelve eggs.’

And so, as a reward, the Wren was allowed to lay twelve eggs if she wanted to, while the Eagle lays only two.

HE
Knight of Greenock had three beautiful daughters. One day a beast came from the sea
and carried them off, no one knew where.