While wave strikes rock.”[52]
A Glaistig once came behind a kilted chief of this sept and caught him, so that he could not struggle or escape. She asked him if he had ever been in greater straits (Mhic Mhaoil a Chnaip, an robh thu riamh an airc is mò?). He said he had; she asked when; and he said, “Between plenty and penury” (Eadar féill is aimbeairt). On this she let go her hold. He said, “I give my word I will not be weighed on the same scales again,”[53] and stabbing her with his dirk killed her.
THE GLAISTIG AT CRAIGNISH.
A weaver, going home in the evening with a web (còrn) of cloth on his shoulder, was met by a Glaistig at a stream. She caught hold of him and pummelled him (làd i e) all night in the stream with his own web of cloth, saying to all his remonstrances, “Weaving weaver, you are the better of being washed” (Figheadair fighe, ’s fhearrd’ thu do nigheadh).
ON GARLIOS, MORVERN.
The lonely and rugged mountain tract, known as the Garlios (Garbh-shlios, the rough country side), extending along the coast of Morvern, from the Sound of Mull to Kingairloch, a distance of about seven miles, was at one time haunted by a Glaistig, whose special employment was the herding (buachailleachd) of the sheep and cattle that roamed over its desert pastures. Tradition represents her as a small, but very strong woman, taking refuge at night in a particular yew tree (craobh iuthair), which used to be pointed out, to protect herself from wild animals that prowled over the ground. In a cave in the same locality lived a man, known as ‘Yellow Dougall of the Cave’ (Dùghaill Buidhè na h-Uamh), who supported himself and wife by taking a sheep or goat, when he required it, from the neighbouring flocks.[54] One day when about to row himself across to the opposite island of Lismore, in his coracle (curachan), a woman came and asked for a passage. She took the bow oar, and before long cried out, “A hearty pull, Dougall” (Hùg orra, Dùghaill.) “Another hearty pull then, honest woman” (Hùgan so eil’ orra, bhean chòir), cried Dougall. Every now and then she repeated the same cry, and Dougall answered in the same way. He thought himself a good rower, and was ashamed to be beat by a woman. He never rowed so hard in his life. When the boat touched the Lismore shore, he for the first time turned round his head, and no woman was anywhere to be seen. She who was so strong and disappeared so mysteriously could only be the Glaistig.
Other accounts say that the boatman was Selvach Mac Selvach (Sealbhach Mac Shealbhaich), a native of Lismore, and the woman against whom he pulled for the three miles from Kingairloch to Lismore, a Glaistig that stayed in the ravine of Alltaogain in the latter place. Her cry was, “Pull away, Selvach” (Hùg orra, Shealbhaich), and his answer, “Pull away, my lass” (Hùg orra, ghalad.)
AT ARDNADROCHIT, MULL.
The Glaistig that followed the house of Lamont at Ardnadrochit (the height of the bridge), in Craignure parish, Mull, was commonly seen in the shape of a dog, and was said to carry a pup at the back of her head. A band came across from Lorn, the opposite mainland, to ‘lift’ Lamont’s cattle. The Glaistig, whose charge they were, drove them up the hill out of the way to a place called Meall na Lìre. Here, in a dell called ‘the Heroes’ Hollow’ (Glaic nan Gaisgeach), the freebooters were like to overtake her. On seeing this, she struck the cows, and converted them into grey stones, which are to be seen to this day. On coming up, the plunderers stood at these stones, and one of them, tapping with his broadsword the stone near him, said he felt sure this was the bed of the white cow (Bo bhàn). On his saying this, the tap of his sword split the stone in two. The Glaistig broke her heart, and was afterwards taken by Lamont and buried in a small plot of ground near the Sound of Mull, where in those days the bodies of unbaptized children were put.