“I will return, I will return, I will return no more;
Mac Leod may return, but Mac Crimmon shall never.”
And also:—
“The she wolf, the she wolf, the she wolf follows me;
Oh for three hands; two for the pipes and one for the sword.”
And so on the wailing notes continued, the piper bewailing his fate in that he could not stop his playing for an instant, because if he did this the wolf would attack him. So long as he played he was safe. Ultimately he began to speak of how long his strength would last, sometimes coming near to the mouth of the cave, but anon wandering away again into its recesses till the music was scarcely audible. This went on all that day and night, but in the early morning the listeners heard the music cease, and they knew that exhaustion had overtaken the piper, and that the wolf had conquered.
This is the story as I had it from an old lady still living in Glenquoich, Inverness-shire. Another version has it that this Mac Crimmon had twelve other men with him, that none of them ever returned, having been met by an uile bheisd or monster, and devoured. The last despairing notes of the piper were heard by a person sitting at Tobar Tulach in the neighbourhood, who listened to the lament as it came up from the bottom of a well.
The Mull story is told of two of a wedding party who entered the cave and never came out, and also of twelve men of the Clan Mac Kinnon, who, headed by a piper, attempted to explore the cave. In the latter case another party walked along the top keeping pace with the music below. When the party who travelled in the cave arrived at the end, the fact was to be signalled to those outside by a certain bar of music, and they were to mark the spot to indicate the termination of the cave. After the explorers had travelled some distance they encountered a fairy woman, who attacked the band and slew them one by one. She was, however, so charmed with the music of the pipes that she offered no injury to the person who played them. The poor piper made the best of his way back to the mouth of the cave followed by the fairy, she meanwhile informing him that if he ceased playing before he saw the light of day he too would be killed. He staggered along in the dark, bravely playing out his life breath, but at last, in spite of his struggles, the music ceased. The charm was then broken and the piper shared the fate of his comrades. Those outside knew that something had happened and with drawn swords rushed into the cave. They found the dead piper and his comrades. The last notes he played, says the tradition, were:—
“Alas! that I had not three hands—
Two for the pipes and one for the sword.”