An Caiptean Dùghall MacCormaig (DM): Nis, creidibh e no nach creidibh, ach bha fomhairean ann anns an t-seann t-saoghal. Tha am Bìoball ag innse sin dhuinn. Ma sheallas sibh anns an t-siathamh caibideil de Ghenesis, chì sibh ann an sin gun robh fomhairean ann, anns an t-seann t-saoghal. Ach bha aon fhomhair, cha chreid mi nach e an tè mu dheireadh a bh’ ann am Muile, de na fomhairean sin, a’ Chailleach Bheur a bha a’ fuireach ann an Eilean Earraid, ris an abrar… ‘s e Eilean Earraid a their sinn ris an-diugh. Tha an t-eilean sin ainmeil gu leòr ann an leabhraichean Beurla a-nis, ach san àm ud cha robh a’ fuireach ann ach a’ Chailleach Bheur agus na trì mairt a bh’ aice, a bhiodh i ag ionaltradh a h-uile madainn.

Nis, feumaidh gun robh i fiadhaich mòr, agus tha iad ag ràdh rinn – thàinig e a-nuas ann am beul-aithris – nach robh ach an aon sùil, agus… nach robh aice ach an aon sùil agus gun robh i ann an clàr a h-aodainn. Ach bha uair an siud agus bha i a’ sealltainn a-mach ris an iar, agus thuirt i:

“Nuair a bha a’ mhuir na coille ‘s na crìonaich, bha mise an sin nam nìghneig òig.”

Nis, nuair a labhradh am boireannach ud, agus ‘s ann glè ainneamh a labhradh i idir, ach nuair a labhradh i, chluinneadh a h-uile duine sa cheann dùthcha i, agus dh’fhaodte ann an àiteannan eile. Nis, bidh sibh a’ smaointinn gu bheil e faoin a ràdh gun robh a’ Chailleach dh’fhaodte ag innse bhreug gun robh a’ mhuir na coille ‘s na crìonaich nuair a bha ise na h-ìghneig òig, ach carson nach creideamaid e? Nach eil e coltach gu leòr? Mura facaig a h-uile h-aon agaibh na Sgeirean Torranach, chuala sibh iomradh orra. A’ sealltainn a-mach bho Eilean Earraid, gu rathad na Dubh-artaich, tha sgeirean cunnartach a-mach ann an sin a tha a’ sìneadh a-mach seachd mìle deug. Agus anns an t-seann t-saoghal, nach fhaodadh na sgeirean a tha sin a bhith nam barran chnocan? Monaidhean a shìolaidheadh sìos le crith-thalmhainn no rud air choreigin mar sin. ‘S chan urrainn dhuinn a ràdh nach robh a’ Chailleach Bheur ceart nuair a thuirt i:

“Nuair a bha a’ mhuir na coille ‘s na crìonaich, bha mise an sin nam nìghneig òig.”

Ach bha aon rud crochte ris a’ Chailleach Bheur. An ceann a h-uile ceud bliadhna dh’fheumadh i i fhèin fhailceadh ann an Loch Bà, shuas aig ceann eile Mhuile. Chuala sibh air fad iomradh air Loch Bà. ‘S e loch bhòidheach a th’ ann, agus i glè fhada agus domhainn. Agus nuair a gheibheadh i failceadh, daonnan anns a’ Chèitean, cho luath ‘s a gheibheadh i failceadh, dh’ath-nuadhachadh a h-òige agus bha i na h-ìghneig òig a-rithist. Nis, dh’fhaodte gu bheil sibh a’ cur teagamh ann an sin, ach a bheil fhios agaibhse, ‘s iomadh rud neònach a tha a’ tachairt anns an t-saoghal, agus a thachair ann bho shean, aig nach eil fhios sam bith againn idir ach mar a thig e a-nuas ann am beul-aithris.

Bha na trì boin aice, agus bhiodh i a’ falbh leotha à Eilean Earraid, ‘s gan saodachadh troimh Mhuile, a-sìos gus an ruigeadh i Maol Chinn Tìre, a h-uile latha. Nis, feumaidh gur e ceumannan fiadhaich fada a bhiodh aig a’ chrodh, oir rachadh iad sìos gu Maol Chinn Tìre, agus an sin thòisicheadh iad air ionaltradh gus am biodh iad air an rathad dhachaigh. Ach cha robh e cho neònach idir nuair a smaointicheas sibh an seòrsa boireannaich a bh’ anns a’ Chailleach Bheur, a chionn bha i a’ gearan mu Chrùlachan. ‘S aithne dhuibh Crùlachan, chan eil i fad on Ghleann Mhòr ann am Muile.

“Crùlachan dubh, domhainn. An loch as doimhne san domhain. Ruigeadh Caol Muile mo ghlùinean ach ruigeadh Crùlachan mo shlèistean.”

Sin an rud a bha i fhèin ag ràdh. Agus carson nach creid sinn e? Dè fios a th’ againne nach robh i fìor?

Nis, cha robh ach an aon àite anns am biodh an crodh aig a’ Chailleach Bheur ag òl uisge nuair a bha i air falbh à Muile fhèin. ‘S e sin tobar a bha shìos leth an rathaid gu Maol Chinn Tìre. Chan eil cuimhn’ a’m gu dè ainm a th’ air, ach co-dhiù bha a leithid de thobar ann, agus bha brod mòr de chloich air an tobar agus cho luath ‘s a ruigeadh i sa mhadainn, thogadh i am brod seo airson gum faigheadh an crodh òl nuair a bhiodh am pathadh orra. Ach nam fàgadh i am brod far an tobair gus an rachadh a’ ghrian fodha, thigeadh an t-uisge às agus chuireadh e tuil thar na domhain air fad. Thaomadh e às an tobar a bha seo gus an cuireadh e tuil air an domhain air fad.

Bha i seo, ma-tà, aon uair agus i a’ fàs car sean, ‘s i a’ fàs lag coltach ri boireannach sean eile, agus thòisich i air… an cadal a’ tighinn oirre ‘s i na suidhe faisg air an tobar. Ach dhùisg i le froineadh. Thàinig rabhaic uisge seirbh às an tobar agus bha a’ ghrian dìreach gu dol sìos; cha robh ach crioman beag dheth an uachdar, ach leum i agus phut i sìos am brod agus shàbhail i an saoghal bho thuil. Ach ged a shàbhail i an saoghal air fad, tha pàirt dhith ann an siud fhathast, agus ‘s e Loch Obha a th’ aca air.

Sin agaibh a-nis mar a bha a’ Chailleach Bheur. Ach an truaghan, thàinig i air a h-aghaidh an uair seo, agus thug i an crodh do dh’Eilean Earraid, ach bha an samhradh a’ tighinn. Bha an Cèitean ri teachd, agus bha an t-àm aice tighinn dlùth a dhol a dh’fhaotainn failceadh. Nis, dh’fheumadh i a bhith air a failceadh mun cluinneadh i comhart coin, agus mun cluinneadh i an t-eun beag a’ bìogail anns na preaslaichean. Nan cluinneadh i a h-aon dhiubh sin, bha i rèidh. Dh’fhalbh i an latha seo, agus i a’ dol a-sìos a’ bhruthaich gu taobh na loch, ‘s i a’ falbh air a socair fhèin ‘s bata aice a’ dol ga failceadh fhèin, agus dìreach nuair a bha i aig cois na tuinne, bha cìobair nach robh fad air falbh agus thug an cù aige comhart. Cha bu luaithe a chualaig i a chomhart na thuit i na cual-chnàmh.

Nis, bha fhios aig a’ chìobair glè mhath gun robh an t-àm aig a’ Chailleach a bhith a’ tighinn ann agus bhiodh e daonnan a’ feuchainn ris a’ chù a chumail a-staigh gus am faigheadh i air a failceadh, ach an oidhche seo bha an cù a-mach agus ‘s ann leis a sin a chomhart e nuair a chunnaic e a’ Chailleach a’ dol a-sìos, agus thuit i na cual-chnàmh. Ach ruith an cìobair ga… thuice cho luath ‘s a b’ urrainn dha feuch an dèanadh e dad air a son. Cha robh i uile-gu-lèir marbh, agus bha i a’ seinn rithe fhèin òran tiamhaidh, muladach, agus chan aithne dhòmhsa seinn, ach seo car mar a bha e a’ dol:

Is moch an-diugh a ghoir an cù, a ghoir an cù, a ghoir an cù,
Is moch an-diugh a ghoir an cù, madainn chiùin os cionn Loch Bà.

Sin mar a bha an t-òran a’ dol. Bha mòran earrannan ann, ach b’ e sin an ceòl a bh’ air.

Nis, duine sam bith nach eil a’ creidsinn na sgeulachd sin, chan eil aige ach dol a-suas gu na Barrachan – ‘s aithne dhuibh air fad na Barrachan – agus iomairibh a-suas tro Abhainn nan Slat agus chì sibh air an làimh chlì an staidhre a bh’ aig a’ Chailleach Bheur a dhol a-suas dhan àite far an robh i a’ fuireach, agus their iad Tobhta na Cailleach Bheur ris gus an latha an-diugh.

Nis, co-dhiù ‘s a tha sibh a’ creidsinn sin no nach eil, chan eil fhios agamsa, ach ‘s ann mar sin a chuala mi e, agus mas breug uam e, is breug thugam e.

Captain Dugald MacCormick: Now, believe it or not, but there were giants in the old world. The Bible tells us that. If you look in the sixth book of Genesis you will see there that there were giants, in the old world. But one giant, I believe she was the last one in Mull, of the giants there, a’ Chailleach Bheur who lived in the Isle of Earraid, which is called… it is called Earraid today. The island is famous enough in books in English now, but in that time all that stayed there were a’ Chailleach Bheur and the three cattle she had, that would graze every morning.

Now, she must have been fearsomely large, and they tell us – she came down to us in folklore – that there was only one eye, and… that she only had one eye and that it was in her forehead. But there was one time and she was looking out to the west, and she said:

“When the sea was a forest and brushwood, I was there as a young girl.”

Now, when that woman spoke, and it was very rarely she spoke at all, but when she spoke everyone in that end of the land would hear her, and perhaps in other places. Now, you will be thinking that it is foolish to say, that the Cailleach was perhaps telling lies that the sea was a forest and brushwood when she was a young girl, but why should we not believe it? Isn’t it quite possible? If every one of you has not seen the Torran skerries, you have heard report of them. Looking out from the Isle of Earraid, to the Dubh-artach road, there are dangerous skerries out there that stretch out seventeen miles. And in the old world, could those skerries not have been the tops of hills? Mountains that subsided with an earthquake or something like that. And we cannot say that the Cailleach Bheur was not right when she said:

“When the sea was a forest and brushwood, I was there as a young girl.”

But there was one thing that was said about the Cailleach Bheur. At the end of every hundred years she had to bathe herself in Loch Bà. It is a beautiful loch, and it is very long and deep. And when she would take her bath, always in May, as soon as she had bathed, her youth was renewed and she was a young girl again. Now, perhaps you are doubting that, but do you know, many a strange thing happens in the world, and has always happened in it, that we know nothing at all about except as it arises in folklore.

She had her three cows, and she would leave with them from the Isle of Earraid, and drive them through Mull, down until she reached the Mull of Kintyre, every day. Now, it must have been fearsomely long steps that the cattle took, because they went down to the Mull of Kintyre, and there they started grazing until they made for the road home. But it wasn’t so strange at all when you think what kind of a woman the Cailleach Bheur was, since she complained about Crùlachan. You know Crùlachan, it is not far from Glen More in Mull.

“Black, deep Crùlachan. The deepest of lochs in the world. The Sound of Mull would reach my knees but Crùlachan would reach my thighs.”

That is what she would say herself. And why should we not believe her? How do we know that bit was not true?

Now, there was only one place that the cattle of the Cailleach Bheur would drink water when she was away from Mull itself. That is the well that was down halfway to the Mull of Kintyre. I don’t remember what it was called, but there was such a well, and there was a big stone lid on the well and as soon as she arrived in the morning, she would lift this lid so that the cattle could drink when they were thirsty. But if she left the lid off the well until the sun went down, the water would come out of it and it would send a flood over the whole world. It would pour out of this well until it put a flood over the whole world.

Here she was then, at one time and she was getting a bit old, and she was growing weak like other old women, and she began… growing sleepy while she sat near the well. But she woke with a shake. A great roar of bitter water came from the well and the sun was just going down; there were only small fragments of it above, but she jumped and pushed down the lid and she saved the world from flooding. But although she saved the whole world, part of it is there yet, and they call it Loch Awe.

There you have it now how it was with the Cailleach Bheur. But the poor soul, she came forward this time, and she took the cattle to the Isle of Earraid, but the summer was coming. May was approaching, and her time was getting close to receive her bathing. Now she would have to have bathed before she heard the barking of a dog, and before she heard the chirping of the little bird in the bushes. If she should hear any of these, she was finished. She left this day, going down the brae to the side of the loch, moving very carefully with a stick, going to the bathing, and just when she was right by the waves, there was a shepherd that was not far away and his dog gave a bark. No sooner had she heard the bark than she fell in pieces.

Now, the shepherd knew very well that it was the time for the Cailleach to be coming and he would always try to keep the dog inside until she had bathed herself, but this night the dog was out and that is why he barked when he saw the Cailleach going down, and she fell in pieces. But the shepherd ran… towards her as quickly as he could to see if he could do anything for her. She was not completely dead, and she was singing a plaintive, sad song to herself, and I don’t know how to sing, but this is a bit like how it went:

“It is early today the dog cried, the dog cried, the dog cried
It is early today the dog cried, on a calm morning above Loch Bà”

That is the way the song went. There were a lot of verses in it but that is the tune of it.

Now, anybody that does not believe that story, he only has to go up to the Barrachan – you all know the Barrachan – and row up through Abhainn nan Slat and you will see to your left hand side the stair that the Cailleach Bheur had to go up to the place where she stayed, and they call it the Ruin of the Cailleach Bheur to this day.

Now, whether you believe that or not, I don’t know, but that is the way I heard it, and if it is a lie I tell, it is a lie I heard.