Stories of the Glaistig
Each of these Glastig and Hunter stories contains some or all of the following elements:~ Glastig (or remnant of the Deer-Priestess). She takes care of the deer herd and milks them, or the cattle herd. She lives at a particular mountain or near a particular river. She is sometimes is attached to a particular household and they leave her milk at a stone.
~ Hunter of deer who goes to the mountain and sometimes stays in a hut.
~ Dog belonging to hunter is used to chase away the Glastig.
~ The Glastig asks the hunter to tie up his dog with a hair from her own head, which the hunter does not do, but uses his garter instead.
The Glaistig at GlendurorThe being which attached herself to the farm-house of Achindarroch (Acha-nan-darach, field of oaks) in Glenduror, Appin, Argyleshire, was variously known as the Glaistig and as the Gruagach of Glenduror. She attended to the cattle, and took particular charge of keeping the calves from the cows at night. She followed the house (not the family), and was alive not many years ago. A portion of milk was poured out for her every evening on a stone called Clach no, Glaistig (the Glaistig stone), and once this was neglected by a new tenant, the calves were found next morning with the cows. Her face was described by those who professed to have seen her, as being like a grey stone overgrown with lichens. A servant girl, going on a dark evening to draw water from a stream flowing past the house, was asked by her fellow-servants if she was not afraid of the Glaistig. In her reply she spoke contemptuously of that being, and on her way to the stream received a slap on the cheek that twisted her head to one side. The following evening, going on the same errand, she got a slap on the other cheek that put her head right.
The Glaistig at Sron-CharmaigThe Glaistig attached to this house on Loch Faschan-side in Lorn was known as Nic-ille-mhicheil. (i.e. a woman of the surname of Carmichael), and was said to have been a former mistress of the house. She lived in a ravine, called Eas-ronaich, near the mansion, and when any misfortune was about to befall the family set up a loud wailing. On sunny days she was to be seen basking on the top of Creag Ghrianach (the Sunny Rock), also in the neighbourhood. Before the old house was levelled, and the present mansion was built, she set up an unusually loud wailing, and then left. Fully a year before the event, she seemed greatly disturbed ; her step up and down stairs, and the noise of chairs and tables being moved about was frequently heard after people had gone to bed. At Glen-Iuchair, a man, who was in the evening convoyed across the glen by a grey sheep, was firmly of opinion his strange convoy could have been no other than Nic-ille-mhicheil.
No real sheep could have been so attentive to him. This attachment to particular individuals was also shown in the case of a poor old woman, named Mor (i.e. Sarah), resident on the farm. When Mor fell sick, the Glaistig used to come to the window and wail loudly. One evening at the cattle-fold, after the cows had been milked and before the herd and dairy-maids had started home with the milk-pails, a woman, dressed in green, was seen coming and trying the udders of the cows, as if to see whether they had been properly milked. The herd had his dog with him, and happened at the time to be sitting with it in his arms. The dog sprang from him and gave chase, and the woman fled like a bird. This was at a place called Doire nan Each, 'the Wood of the Horses,' several miles from the mansion, and the woman was believed to be Nic-ille- mhlcheil.
On Garlios, MorvernThe 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' (Dughaill Buidhe na h-Uamh) who supported himself and wife by taking a sheep or goat, when he required it, from the neighbouring flocks.
One day when about to row himself across to the opposite island of Lismore, in his coracle (curachari), a woman came and asked for a passage. She took the bow oar, and before long cried out, "A hearty pull, Dougall" (Hug orra, Dhu- ghaill) "Another hearty pull then, honest woman" (Hugan so eil' orra, bhean choir), 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" (Hug orra, Shealbhaich), and his answer, "Pull away, my lass" (Hug orra, ghalad).
Mac-Ian YearThis man (Mac Iain Ghiarr), whose name is proverbial in the West Highlands for that of a master thief, was one of the Mac lans of Ardnamurchan, a persecuted race. He had a boat for going on his thieving expeditions painted black on one side and white on the other, so that those who saw it passing would not recognize it on its return. Hence the proverb :
"One side black and one side grey, Like Mac Ian Year's boat."
Many tales are told of his skill in thieving, and the accomplishment is said to have been bestowed upon him by a Glaistig.
He and his brother Ronald (his own name was Archibald) were out hunting, and having killed a roe, took it to a bothy and prepared it for supper. He threw himself on a bed of heather, and Ronald sat by the fire, roasting pieces of the roe on his dirk. A woman entered the hut, and made an effort now and then to snatch from him some of the roasted flesh. Ronald threatened, unless she kept over her paw (sall), he would cut it off with his knife. She appealed to Archibald, " Ho, Archibald, will you not put a stop to Ronald?" " I will put a stop to him, poor creature," he said. He told Ronald to allow the poor woman, that they had plenty, and perhaps she was hungry.
When leaving, the Glaistig asked him to the door, and it is supposed then bestowed upon him his wonderful gift of theft. He built a large byre when he had not a single 'hoof" to put in it, and before long it was amply stocked. He hired the Glaistig to herd for him, and she was to be heard at night on the tops of the cliffs crying " Ho ho, ho ho," to keep the cattle from wandering too near the verge. Her wages were to be a pair of brogues of untanned leather, and when she got these, like the rest of her kind, she disappeared. She seems, however, only to have returned to her former haunts, which extended all over Ardnamurchan, from the Point to Loch Sunart.
When her former master died, she gave a shriek that roused the echoes of Ben Resipol (Reiscapol). The same night she was seen in the Coolin hills in Skye, and after that neither her shadow nor her colour (a du no datti) were anywhere seen.
During her period of service with Mac Ian Year, she made her appearance whenever he raised his standard, however far away she might be. Ronald's dog had a great aversion to her, and chased her whenever she came near. She was then to be heard calling out, "Ho, Archibald, will you not call off the dog ?" (Ho, Laspuig, nach caisg thu 'n cu ?), — a common phrase in Ardnamurchan and the small isles to this day.
The Carlin of the Spotted Hill
(Cailleach Beinne Bhric)The Fairy wife, who owned the deer of Ben Breck, is well known in the Highlands.
It is told of her that on one occasion, as she milked a hind the animal became restive and gave her a kick. In return she struck the hind with her open palm and expressed a wish that the arrow of Donald, the son of John (a noted hunter in his day), might come upon it. That very day the restive hind fell to Do’il MacJain’s arrow.
It is also told of this Elfin wife that while three hunters were passing the night in a bothy on Ben Breck, the Carlin wife came to the door and sought admittance. A dog that accompanied the hunters sprang up to attack her. She retreated and asked one of the men to tie up his dog. He refused. She asked him again, and a second time he refused. She asked a third time, and he replied he had nothing to tie it with. She pulled a hair out of her head and told him to tie his dog with that, it was strong enough to hold a four-masted ship at anchor. He pretended to consent, and the hag, on trying again to enter, found the dog was not secured. She then went away, saying it was well for the hunter the dog had not been tied, and threatening to come again. It does not appear, however, that she ever came back.
She was last seen about twenty years ago in Lochaber. Age had told severely upon her. Instead of being “broad and tall,” she had become no bigger than a teapot! She wore a little grey plaid or shawl about her shoulders.
Superstitions of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland
John Gregorson Campbell, 1900
The Croon of the Glastig of Ben Breck(This is the croon that the Glastig was heard to sing as she drove the hinds down the mountain side.)
Lady of Ben Breck, Horo!
Breck, horo, Breck, horo!
Lady of Ben Breck, horo!
I ne'er would let my troop of deer,
Troop of deer, troop of deer;
I ne'er would let my troop of deer,
A-gathering shellfish to the tide.
Better liked they cooling cress,
Cooling cress, cooling cress;
Better liked they cooling cress,
That grows beside the fountain high.
The Hunter and the Glastig of Ben BreckA Hunter was one day returning from Ben Breck, and when he arrived at the foot of the mountain, he thought he heard a sound like the cracking of two stones striking together, or the rattling of a stag's horns, when he rubs them against a rock. He held on his way, until he came in sight of a large stone that lay beside the path, and then he saw, crouching at the foot of the stone, the semblance of a woman, with a green shawl about her shoulders, and in her hands a pair of deer-shanks, which she kept striking against one another without ceasing. Though he understood that she was the Glastig, he made bold enough to say to her: "What are you doing there, poor woman?" But the only reply he got was: "Since the wood was burnt, since the wood was burnt," and she kept repeating this refrain as long as he was within hearing distance of her.
Big Young Donald and the Glastig of BuinachBig Young Donald Cameron resided in Braes of Lochaber in the first half of the past century (18th). He was a remarkable man in many ways. In the first place he had the second sight. Like the One-eyed Ferryman, he foresaw when and where Colin Campbell, Glenure, was to be killed; and according to tradition, he was so confident of everything happening as he foresaw, that he came every step from the Braes to the wood of Onich, where he waited until he heard the report of the shot fired on the other side of the narrows by Allan Breck.
Donald was also a famous deer-hunter. His equal was not to be found in Lochaber in his time; and it appears that the second-sight was useful to him as a hunter.
On a certain day, while he was looking up from the bottom of the Glen to the top of the Yellow Mountain, he said to a neighbour who was standing near him: “’Tis I who behold the sight! Place your foot on mine, and you will see it too.” His neighbour did as he was told, and he now beheld, what he saw not till then, the finest view of deer he had ever witnessed.
Donald was always pursuing the deer, and of all bens his choice for hunting was the Yellow Mountain.
On a calm morning, at the break of day, he was sitting on a deer-pass on the ben, with his slender-barrelled gun that never missed fire on his knee, and waiting until the light-moving herd should descend from the summit of the mountain to drink their morning draught out of the clear springs which gushed forth from the side of the slope beneath. at length, he saw them coming out of the mist which hid the rocky summit above him, and a tall Glastig driving them before her. She at once noticed the hunter, and before the foremost deer came within shooting distance she cried to him: “Thou art too heavy on my hinds, Big Donald. Thou must not be so heavy on them as thou art.” Big Donald was read-witted, and so he put her off with this patient answer: “I never killed a hind where I could find a stag.” He allowed the hinds to pass with the Glastig behind them, and she gave him no further trouble.
The Four Hunters and the Four Glastigs
In one of the past centuries four hunters went a-hunting to the Braes of Lochaber. After the day’s sport was over, they betook themselves to a summer-pasture both to pass the night. They reached the both in the dark; and after kindling a fire and taking supper, they sat down about the hearth and began to converse. They felt very comfortable; and three of them said, in fun, that they wanted nothing now but the presence of their sweethearts to make them as happy as the king. “Goodness between me and that (wish),” said the fourth hunter.
The conversation then ceased, and the three hunters withdrew to a corner of the bothy, but the fourth stayed where he was.
Shortly after that four women entered the bothy, having the form and appearance of the sweethearts of the hunters. Three of them went over, and sat beside the three hunters in the corner; but the fourth stood before the hunter who was seated at the fire.
When the hunter sitting at the fire noticed this, he drew his dirk from the scabbard, and laid it across his knees. Then he took two trumps out of his pocket, and began to play them. The woman standing before him noticed this and said: -
“Good is the music of the trump,
Saving the one note in its train.
Its owner likes it in his mouth
In preference to any maid.”The hunter, however, did not acknowledge that he heard her, but continued playing on the trumps as before.
Then she began to come nearer, and tried to lay hold of him with her hand; but he kept her off as well as he could with his dirk. When she failed in getting hold of him in this way, she tried another. “Give me a pinch of snuff,” said she. The hunter prepared the snuff, and reached it to her on the point of his dirk. When she saw this, she turned towards him the point of her elbow, and said: “Put it here.” The hunter understood that the reason for her action was to get an opportunity of seizing the hand in which the dirk was held, and so he was on his guard. As soon as he noticed her going to stretch out her arm while he was reaching her the snuff, he kept the point of his dirk towards her, and gave her one or two produces with it. That was enough. She went back to the other side of the fire, and stood there, irritating him.
At length, he heard the crowing of a cock as if on a hill top. “Yonder,” said the woman on the other side of the fire, “is the black cock of March; it is time to depart.” She said no more, but made for the door, and her three companions sprang out after her. As soon as daylight approximated, the fourth hunter went over to the corner, and found his three comrades cold and dead, with their throats cut, and every drop of blood sucked out of their veins. He had now no doubt that the women were Glastigs. The three wretches it was who did the deed, and the fourth would have done the very same to him had it not been for the words and other means he had used.
Yellow-Haired Murdoch of the DeerYellow Murdoch of the Deer was a Jura man. As his name implies, he was a famous hunter in his time. Of all the mountains in the Island, Ben-an-Or was his favourite hunting ground, and he continued to frequent it, until he was a very old grey-headed man.
The deer belonged to the fairies, and they were dis- pleased with Yellow Murdoch because he was so destructive to the stags.
One day as he was ranging the mountain he saw a fine stag, which he stalked, until he was near enough to shoot him with an arrow. But when he had shut his eye to take aim, the stag changed into a man, and said: "There you are, Yellow Murdoch of the Deer, grown grey sitting on the side of Ben-an-Or.'* Murdoch replied: " If I have grown grey, sitting on the side of Ben-an-Or, it is an easy thing for God to make me young again." Having said this, the strength of youth returned to him once more, and he lived for many years after.
The Strath Dearn Hunter and the Chailleach (Witch)IN days gone by, a famous hunter dwelt in Strath Dearn, on the south side of Loch Ness. When the time of hunting arrived, he went with his two dogs to Crh- Clach, in the upper end of the Glen ; and, after he had passed the day pursuing the deer, he betook himself to a shieling bothy to spend the night. He reached the bothy in the evening; and, after kindling a fire, prepared supper. When he had taken supper and placed more fuel on the fire, he threw himself on a heap of rushes in a corner of the bothy. His two dogs followed him, and laid themselves down at his back.
In a short time a hen entered and rested herself on one side on the hearth, while she kept the other side to the fire. She was not long in that position when she began to swell and to swell. In a while she rose, and turned the side under her to the fire ; and if she swelled before, she now swelled seven times more. At last she became a woman, and stood up on the floor before the hunter.
As soon as the dogs noticed her they assumed an angry look, and sprang over on the floor to be at her. " Keep back thy dogs," said the carlin. " I cannot," answered the hunter. She pulled a hair from her head, and when she was reaching the hair to him, she said: " Tie them with that.' 1 He pretended that he was tying the dogs with the hair, but he put one of his own garters on them instead.
As soon as the carlin thought that the dogs were tied, she sprang over to the corner, and laid hold of the hunter. The dogs then sprang to seize her: " Tighten hair," she now said. "Slacken garter," he replied. At last the dogs got loose, and fastened on the hag. She now let the hunter go, and went back-foremost out at the door.
The dogs followed her until they drove her down the slope of a brae which was before the door. When they arrived at its foot, there began between them and her a hard fight which lasted a long time. But the fight came to an end at last. The dogs returned to their master, much bemired and mangled, and the carlin went away, saying: " If the young dog's tusk had been in the old dog's mouth, or the old dog's sense in the young dog's head, I would not have escaped from them."
Next day the hunter went home; and when he arrived at the house, he met his wife going in a hurry to the house of a neighbour, who was in great pain, and, to all appearance, at the point of death. He pre- vailed on her to return home; and after taking a bite of food, he himself went to the sick woman's house. When she heard that he was coming, she cried to those with her in the house to shut and bar the door. They did as she told them. But as soon as the hunter came near enough, he drove the door in before him, and entered. He went straight to the bed and threw the clothes down off the woman's breast. A horrible sight was now revealed to him: the breasts of the woman were torn from their places. He understood the cause. She it was who last night met him and his dogs in the shieling bothy; and so he drew his sword and put her to death as a witch.
Donald MacIan and the Glastig- two storiesI
Donald MacIan was cow-herd with the tenantry of Achantore in Lochaber. When summer came round, he went with the cattle on the farm to the summer pastures of Ben Breck, on the north side of trie Blackwater. One day, as he sat on the meadow at the foot of the Ben, and the cattle were lying round about him, he heard a small voice far away; and immediately he looked in the direction whence it came. What did he behold, coming with great speed and making straight for the place where he was sitting, but a Glastig? Without a moment's delay, he drew out of her way and tried to hide himself in a bush of bog-myrtle. But if he did, it was not without being observed by her. She turned the way he went, and, in the twinkling of an eye, was standing by his side. She then began to leap forward and back again over his body, clapping her hands, and repeating the following words:
" Do you see the wee colt of the sweet gale
Lying in the midst of the kine?
A stroke he would strike between two strokes,
And a stroke between two blows,
In the meadow between two groves,
In the grove between two meadows."When she grew tired of that work, she went away with a light, playful spring, singing the following lilt:
" Friskier am I than the great eagle,
Friskier am I than the young eagle,
Friskier am I than the calf of two cows,
Friskier am I than a kid in a fold; "and going with such speed that poor Donald, the herd, who was half dead with fear, could not see her feet moving on the ground. She kept on at this rate, stooping and pulling with her teeth tufts of grass from the earth, until she went out of sight.
IITHE same Donald MacIan went with the Achantore cattle to Ben Breck another summer. He reached the sheiling bothy at Ruighe - na - cloiche, beside Ciaran Water, about evening. On the way he gathered an armful of fuel and took it with him to the bothy. He set the fuel in order on the hearth-stone, seized the fire implements, and, after striking fire, began to kindle the fuel.
In the midst of this work he thought he heard a strange cry, far off at first, and soon after much nearer.
At length he heard the same voice outside the house, saying :
"Heigh! Ho! Hal! Has this man over the way left yet?"
Scarcely had he turned his eye the way the voice came, when the door opened, and a Glastig stood before him in the opening. She cried aloud: " Donald Maclan, I was on the Uralich when you put the first spark in the tinder, and in the Woodpecker's Corrie when the wisp took fire; and here I am now as the fuel is beginning to kindle." "Thou hast walked well, poor creature," said Donald MacIan.
She now attempted to come in ; but if she did, Dergan, the herd's dog, attacked her. "Stop Dergan, Donald Maclan," said she. Donald Maclan pretended to stop the dog, but that he could not. " Tie thy dog, Donald Maclan, 1 ' said she then. " I have nothing to tie him with," answered the herd. She pulled a grey hair out of her head, and handed it to him, saying: "Tie him with that." The herd pretended to do what he was told, but put his own garter on the dog instead of the Glastig's hair.
As soon as she thought that the dog was tied, she flew at the herd; but if she did, Dergan flew at her. She then cried: "Tighten and choke, hair! Tighten and choke, hair! " But the herd threw the hair in the fire, and it crackled and crackled until it flew out through the roof of the bothy. No sooner was that over than the dog got loose, and fastened on the Glastig. She cried at the pitch of her voice: "Take the dog off me, Donald MacIan, and I will give thee no more trouble." The herd did as she told him, and then she said to him: "Go to Ben Breck early to-morrow, Donald Maclan, and thou wilt find the White Hind which thou hast been hunting for many a day, but which thou hast not yet caught." After she had said this, she made for the door.
Early next day the herd took with him his bow and arrows and went to Ben Breck. When he reached the Ben, he saw the Glastig coming to meet him, with a herd of deer before her, and the White Hind at their head. He took aim at the Hind, and let go the arrow. But before the arrow left the bend of the yew, he heard the Glastig crying, in a spiteful tone: "Stick in the stomach, arrow. Stick in the stomach." The arrow did stick in the White Hind's stomach, and Donald Maclan got it home with him, as was promised him.
The Onich Brothers and the Glaistig of Ben BreckThere once lived in Onich two brothers who were ex- ceedingly fond of hunting and fishing. In summer time and harvest, they used to go to the Black Mount, and while they stayed there, they took shelter in the shieling-bothy of
The Dun Valley of the Moss
At the heel of Ben Breck.Here the Glastig used to visit them, until she and they grew as well acquainted with each other as though they had been always neighbours. But the hunters had no pleasure in her company, for she was so trouble- some that they were obliged to be always on their guard against her.
One of the brothers, named Gillesbick, was patient with her; but the other, whose name was Ronald, was not. Gillesbick was displeased with his brother for his conduct, because he was afraid of provoking the nasty hag to be revenged on them. So, when his brother would turn against her with his dirk, and she would cry: "Stop Ronald, Lasbick," Lasbick would angrily say: " Won't you let the poor creature alone? " Then she would turn on himself, for she could not keep a moment quiet, and ask of him for snuff, with the in- tention of seizing his hand when reaching it to her, and of carrying him off with her. But he would put the snuff on the point of the dirk, and present it to her in that way. Then she would bend her arm, and turn the point of her elbow towards him, and say: " Put it on this, Lasbick." But Lasbick knew that the object of this request was to get a hold, first of the handle of the dirk, and then of himself. This put him on his guard against her, so that he kept her off with the point of the dirk.
On a certain day she, by her teasing, put Ronald in such a passion that he suffered the terrier to attack her. Gillesbick cried to him to stop the dog and let her alone. Ronald turned a deaf ear to this; and instead of stopping the terrier he incited the grey hound also to attack her. This greatly kindled her wrath. She gave him one stern look askance, and before going off said: "Perhaps I'll pay thee back for this yet, my lad."
After she had gone, Gillesbick said to his brother: "Ill hast thou done. I fear that virago will do us harm yet." But his brother replied that there was no fear of them as long as they would have the grey hound and the terrier.
Next night at bed time they heard a small voice, at first as if it were far away, and shortly afterwards as if it were nearer them. The voice was coming nearer and nearer, and that with great speed. At length Gillesbick cried to Ronald: "It is the Glastig! Take hold of thy dirk quickly, and be ready for her when she arrives." Ronald drew his dirk; and the grey hound, with an angry look, sprang up at his side. He then urged the dog and the terrier on, and they at once made their way out with a rush to meet the Glastig.
The two brothers stayed in the bothy listening to hear what should happen. They had not been long waiting until they heard the loud barking which began outside. This noise continued long about the door, but gradually it went further away from the house. At last when night began to turn to day, the fight ceased and the dogs returned to the bothy.
The big dog came first with only a tuft of hair here and there on his body; and shortly after him came the terrier as bare as a newly plucked hen.
The Glastig or Maid of Glen DurorThere was a Glastig in Glen Duror, whom people called the " Maiden. " She was an earthly woman at first. Two or three hundred years ago she was a dairy- maid between Glen Duror and Glen-a-Chulish ; and her name and surname, and even the farm where she was reared, are still remembered.
She was taken away out of child-bed by the fairies, and she returned no more. But according to tradition she was changed into a Banshee, or Glastig, who took shelter in the ravines and clefts of the rocks between the two Glens. She frequented, in particular, the Robbers' Ravine on the south side of Ben Vehir, and there she was often seen by the passers by.
It appears that the liking she formerly had for cows and all kinds of cattle stuck to her as a Glastig. Often she was to be seen in the midst of the cattle, as if she were engaged in counting them; and before markets, and at the time of changing tenants, as if she were separating the out-going part of the stock, or taking possession of the part newly come in. If she happened to have a greater liking for one of the tenants than for the rest, she was very careful of his cattle; and at the time of flitting, she would place every obstacle between him and the lifting of them off the ground. Accord- ing to tradition, this happened for the last time about thirty years ago. At any rate, from that day to this, the Glastig has been neither seen nor heard. Perhaps she was chased out of the Glen by the screaming of the whistles of steamers passing up and down Loch Linnhe, or by the blasts fired by the quarriers of the Quartz-Rock at the foot of the Dogs' Ravine, At any rate she has departed, and no one misses her.
Many a tale was told about her, and many a pail of milk was spent on her by the dairymaids at the shiel- ings of the Glen. For the night they left the pail full of milk for her, they would find everything right next day; but the night they neglected to do this, the calves would be let out of the fold, and the cows would be sucked dry next morning.
From Popular Tales of the West Highlands, John Francis Campbell, 1890Cailliach Mhor Chlibhrich
From W. Ross, stalkerThis celebrated witch was accused of having enchanted the deer of the Reay forest, so that they avoided pursuit. Lord Reay was exceedingly angry, but at a loss how to remedy the evil. His man, William (the same who braved the witch and sat down in her hut) promised to find out if this was the case. He watched her for a whole night, and by some counter enchantments managed to be present when in the early morning she was busy milking the hinds. They were standing all about the door of the hut till one of them ate a hank of blue worsted hanging from a nail in it. The witch struck the animal, and said, "The spell is off you; and Lord Reay's bullet will be your death to-day." William repeated this to his master to confirm the tale of his having passed the night in the hut of the great hag, which no one would believe. And the event justified it, for a fine yellow hind was killed that day, and the hank of blue yarn was found in its stomach.
Popular tales of the West Highlands, John Francis Campbell, 1890, vol II