“Well Lads” Ill Will Armstrong said, “I expect you’re surprised to see me”. This was met with a stony silence broken eventually by Mad Wullie. “If it’s about the sheep, I can explain that” This comment was met with a further stony silence. “Aye lad I know about the sheep and we recovered 27 of them, one fell over a cliff and we ate her on the spot” The Vagabond looked appalled until Ill Will continued “we grilled her first”.
So it’s just about 1 sheep Wullie stuttered, he wasn’t given to stuttering but when betrayed by three of his own men and surrounded by Armstrong’s carrying weapons you could understand he might be a little stuttery. Ill Will continued as if he’d not spoken “We’ll consider it as an initial payment, a gesture of good will if you like” All three of them looked confused and The Vagabond asked belligerently “payment for what”. “Payment for the job you’re going to do for me” Ill Will answered rather too smoothly for The Vagabond’s peace of mind. “I’ve an interest in bringing a few Highland cattle down to Liddesdale to breed with my cows and I need three men with a good cattle dog to do the job”.
Well to cut a long story short, word had got out about the cattle raid that netted us 1 sheep and the Armstrong’s had heard about Reba’s role in driving the sheep across the ford and giving the rustlers the edge in the following fight. They had arrived in Lost Dale to take the dog and send her with three Armstrong’s to the Highlands to get the cattle but Wee Jock had convinced them that no one else could control her except Dashing Dougie.
After some discussion Ill Will had decided he could turn the situation to his advantage by rescuing Mad Wullie and associates, sending them to the Highlands for his cattle and solve another problem that had been exercising his mind for the past week or two. This one was more personal, his youngest daughter had fallen in love with one of the dashing Grahams and Will was having none of it. She would head north with Wullie Snapcase to forget the Graham and gelding would be the punishment for our three hero’s if she didn’t come home “intact” so to speak.
So now you’re as up to date as you’re ever likely to be. Onward to glory.
In the 16th century, West Highland ships were dominated by the birlinn (or West Highland galley). These were fast, nimble wooden vessels powered by a single square sail and oars, perfect for the shallow waters and island-hopping of the Hebrides. They served as the main transport for clan warfare, raiding, and trade.
Developed from the earlier Viking ships they were clinker-built (meaning the outer planks overlapped each other) and usually made of oak. They featured high prows and sterns, and had a flat keel that let them glide into shallow waters and beaches. (There is an interesting repudiation of this Viking heritage here, https://clandonald-heritage.com/the-galley/ where the Clan Donald seem to take the credit for the ship design.) The main difference in design was they had a rudder instead of the Steering oar that the Vikings used which in my opinion makes them rather ugly in comparison. Hopefully there’s no Donald’s reading this.
They rolled like the Devil himself and Mad Wullie, Dashing Dougie and The Vagabond wished, or almost wished they had died and gone to meet that Devil. They were quite prepared to give him a piece of their mind to ensure he wouldn’t design boats that rolled and so made the occupants sea sick.
The only passenger on the Sea Cow not to feel the effects of the rolling was Thropett, Armstrong’s daughter. She stood on the prow and gloried in the sea spray and the movement of the ship, but she was on her own in this.
Eventually this tortuous voyage ended and they landed at Uig on An t-Eilean Sgitheanach or as we Sassenachs know it The Isle of Skye. Uig was located in the lands of the MacDonalds and they were the family that Armstrong had concluded his bargain to buy 6 cattle that the Drovers would herd south.
The MacDonalds are an interesting family, they had a long standing feud with the MacLeod’s of Trotternich. In 1578 at the Battle of the Spoiling Dyke or Blar Milleadh a’ Ghàraidh, Millegearaidh they barred the doors of Trumpan church, near Ardmore Bay. They then set fire to the church full of worshipers who all died except one girl who, although mortally wounded, managed to give the alarm. On hearing the news, the chief of Clan MacLeod and his men set off for Ardmore bay where the battle ensued. The MacDonalds were killed almost to a man and their corpses were then buried in a turf dyke. Of course the atrocity by the MacDonalds was to exact vengeance on the MacLeods for a previous atrocity, a massacre of MacDonalds in the Cave of Frances on the Isle of Eigg a couple of years earlier.
I suppose what goes around, comes around but they were never what you might consider good neighbours. Anyway, this was the Clan that Mad Wullie was about to do business with.
Uig is just a small settlement by the sea but it has a sheltered anchorage and the Skipper of the Sea Cow was happy to drive his boat up onto the gently sloping sands of Uig Bay. The Drovers were just as happy to leap onto dry land before heading up to the village to take possession of the cattle and be on their way.
From a distance it looked as if there were only a few inhabitants and Mad Wullie breathed a sigh of relief. He’d not heard many good things about the MacDonalds of Sleat and the fewer of them to worry about the better.
The Drovers (on the left) Mad Wullie, Thropett, Vagabond and in the rear Dashing Dougie Douglas and his cattle dog Reba come face to face with the Clan leader Donald MacDonald and two of his loyal henchmen.
After the initial greetings Wullie got down to business, “Let’s have a look at the wee cowies then” he said in his best local dialect. MacDonald just frowned.
“Come with me” and he took them over to the enclosure and with a sly smile says “here they are”
Wullie doesn’t need to use the fingers on both hands to count up to four. “There’s supposed to be 6 cattle, that’s what Armstrong told me to collect and that’s what we have to take down south, where are the other two?”
“Are ye blind you soft southerner, two of them cows are pregnant and anyone knows that 4 plus 2 equals 6, did they not teach you that in your school”. Wullie had never been to school, he’d learned his counting in the hard University of Life, and by the price for each cow or sheep’s head and he didn’t think that unborn cattle counted for anything.
He told the MacDonald exactly what he was thinking, which might have been a small error of judgement on his part.
He gave a quick whistle and the rest of the Clan arrived to support their leaders way of counting cattle.
Things could turn ugly and quite quickly.
“Wullie”, Thropett called, “there’s a man here showing me his head”, “what’s wrong with that” Wullie replied. “It’s not attached to a body”. “Ahh, don’t worry he’s probably just trying to be friendly, maybe it’s a Highland gift” he said, considering their predicament.
You don’t grow old in the Borders without being able to think quickly in life or death situations and given the Clan MacDonalds reputation, this was one of those situations. Philosophically he thought “Well perhaps the cows would have twins and he’d have eight head of cattle by the time he got them to market”. With that thought to reassure him he agreed to take the four cattle and move on south to Kylerhea which was the next major hurdle and one he was looking forward to even less than his meeting with Donald MacDonald.
Kylerhea was where they would swim the cattle across to the mainland and Mad Wullie couldn’t swim.
Neither could Douglas or Vagabond but Wullie had failed to mention this part of the journey to them, it would be a nice surprise he’d thought……an adventure.
