There is also still in the Highlands a cave called Uamh na'm Piobairean—i.e., "The Piper's Cave," into which the famous Macruimean with his children used to repair to practise the bagpipe. This cave is on the top of a brae, or rising ground, eight miles north from Dunvegan Castle. Even his daughters, people say, would occasionally steal to the cave, if they could lay hold on their father's favourite set of pipes, and indulge in a vigorous practice for an hour or so. Moreover, at what time the Macruimean family was first established as the hereditary bagpipers of the Lairds of MacLeod, no one can say now; for it was so very long ago.[69]
THE GYGUR FAMILY.
As regards giants, there are now-a-days only very few remaining in European countries. Formerly, it would appear, they were abundant, and many traces of their habitations and doings are still pointed out by the people. However, respecting the capacity of the giants for music, but little is recorded. Jacob Grimm alludes to the charming musical powers of Gygur, a Scandinavian giantess and sorceress, and he thinks it likely that an old German name for the violin, which is Geige, was derived from Gygur.[70] If this be so, the French Gigue and the English Jig may be supposed likewise to have their origin from the name of that mysterious monster. There was evidently in olden time a whole Gygur family; but it is very doubtful whether any of its members are still extant. If there are yet any to be found, it must be up in the North, perhaps in Norway, Sweden, or Iceland; at any rate, the people in these countries still speak occasionally of their old giants, or trolls as they are also called.
LINUS, THE KING'S SON.
This story is current in Iceland. It was told to a German traveller in that out-of-the-way part of the world by a poor joiner,—evidently a true-born Icelander, well versed in the folk-lore of his country, but a somewhat prosy narrator. The story is here given in a condensed form. True, there is not much said in it about music; but its chief incidents are brought about by the agency of magic songs. The singing of the swans lulls the king's son into a death-like slumber, and it is by means of music that the sweet foster-sister of Linus, when she finds him reposing on the couch,—but all this the reader will see in the story itself, and to tell it first in a preamble, and then a second time, would be even worse than the prolixity of the honest Icelandic joiner. So let us proceed to the story.
There was once a king and a queen who had a son whose name was Linus. Every one in the whole kingdom admired the young prince for his fine person and his many accomplishments.
Now it happened that when Linus, the king's son, had attained the age of twenty years, he suddenly disappeared, and no one could say what had become of him.
Not far from the king's palace lived with her parents in a little hut a young girl who was the prince's foster-sister; and he had always been extremely fond of her. No wonder that he liked her so much, for she was as beautiful as she was amiable.
"Mother," said the girl, "pray, now let me go, that I may seek for him until I find him again!"
When the mother heard her speaking thus, she became convinced that all dissuasion would be useless, and she permitted her daughter to go. However, she gave her a magic ball of thread, and taught her how to throw it before her as a guide to the hidden abode of the king's son; for the old lady was not altogether inexperienced in the mysteries of sorcery. The girl took the ball of thread and let it run before her; and it rolled and rolled many miles over mountains and through valleys, until it suddenly stopped near a precipitous cliff.