Mr. Ballantyne describes the game as played in his young days at Biggar as follows:—Two boys would each select his own side. “First pick” was decided by lot. A third boy took two straws, one shorter than the other, and held them between his finger and thumb in such a way that only equal lengths were visible. Each leader drew a straw. The one who drew the longest had “first pick” of all the intended players, the other leader had the next; alternate choice was then made by them until both sides were complete, and were ranged by their leaders. Then lots were again drawn as to which side should go out first. The side going out had to show the Gig; anything easily carried in the hand sufficed. The “outs” went out from the den twenty or thirty yards, sometimes round the end of a house, to “smuggle the Gig”—that is, to give one of their number the Gig to carry, care being taken that the “ins” did not know who had it. During this time the leader of the ins called “out” in a loud voice—
Zimerie, twaerie, hickeri seeven,
Aucherie, daucherie, ten and eleven;
Twall ran musha dan
Tweedledum, twadledum, twenty-one. Time’s up!
Outs had all to appear by “Ready” when the chase began. Boundary limits were fixed, beyond which outs could not run and ins could not stand, within a fixed distance of the den. This den was a place marked by a mark or rut in the ground, about four feet by six feet. The outs endeavoured (particularly the one carrying the Gig) to get into the den before any one could catch and “crown” him. The pursued, when caught, was held by the pursuer, his cap taken off, and the palm of the hand was placed on the crown of his head. As he did so the pursuer would say, “Deliver up the Gig.” If he had it not, the pursuer went off after another player. If he had the Gig, and succeeded in getting into the den without being “crowned,” outs won the game; but if the Gig was caught and “crowned,” ins won.
At Fraserburgh the players are divided equally. A spot is marked off, called the Nestie. Any small object known to all is chosen as the Gig. One half of the players receive the Gig and retire, so as not to be seen distinctly by the other half that remains in and near the Nestie. The Gig is concealed on the person of one of the players that retire. When everything is ready those having the Gig move towards the Nestie, and those in the Nestie come to meet them. The aim is to catch the player who has the Gig before reaching the Nestie. If this is done the same players again hide the Gig, but if the Gig is discovered, the players discovering it now hide it.
At Old Aberdeen sides are chosen, then a small article (such as a knife) is made the gig. Then one side, determined by a toss, goes out and smuggles the gig and cries out, “Smuggle the gig.” Then the other side rushes in and tries to catch the one that has the “gig.” If the one that has the gig is free, the same side goes out again.—Rev. W. Gregor.
See “[Gegg].”
Snail Creep
In Mid-Cornwall, in the second week of June, at St. Roche, and in one or two adjacent parishes, a curious dance is performed at their annual “feasts.” It enjoys the rather undignified name of “Snail Creep,” but would be more properly called the “Serpent’s Coil.” The following is scarcely a perfect description of it:—“The young people being all assembled in a large meadow, the village band strikes up a simple but lively air and marches forward, followed by the whole assemblage, leading hand-in-hand (or more closely linked in case of engaged couples), the whole keeping time to the tune with a lively step. The band, or head of the serpent, keeps marching in an ever-narrowing circle, whilst its train of dancing followers becomes coiled around it in circle after circle. It is now that the most interesting part of the dance commences, for the band, taking a sharp turn about, begins to retrace the circle, still followed as before, and a number of young men, with long leafy branches in their hands as standards, direct this counter movement with almost military precision.”—W. C. Wade (Western Antiquary, April 1881).
A game similar to the above dance is often played by Sunday school children in West Cornwall, at their out-of-door summer treats, called by them “[Roll tobacco].” They join hands in one long line, the taller children at their head. The first child stands still, whilst the others in ever-narrowing circles dance around singing until they are coiled into a tight mass. The outer coil then wheels sharply in a contrary direction, followed by the remainder, retracing their steps.—Courtney’s Cornish Feasts and Folk-lore, p. 39. A Scottish game, “[Row Chow Tobacco],” described by Jamieson, is played in the same way, the boy at the extremity being called the “Pin.” A clamorous noise succeeds the “winding up,” the players crying out “Row Chow Tobacco” while giving and receiving the fraternal hug. The words are pronounced Rowity-chowity-bacco. The naming of this game in connection with tobacco is curious. It is undoubtedly the same as “Snail Creep.” I am inclined to think that all these games are connected with an ancient form of Tree-worship, and that the analogy of tobacco-rolling is quite modern.
See “[Bulliheisle],” “[Eller Tree],” “[Tuilyie-waps],” “[Wind up the Bush Faggot].”