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"LONG ago there were
people in this country called the Pechs; short wee men they were, wi’ red
hair, and long arms, and feet sae braid, that when it rained they could turn
them up owre their heads, and then they served for umbrellas. The Pechs were
great builders; they built a’ the auld castles in the kintry; and do ye
ken the way they built them?—I’ll tell ye. They stood all in a row from
the quarry to the place where they were building, and ilk ane handed forward
the stanes to his neebor, till the hale was biggit. The Pechs were also a
great people for ale, which they brewed frae heather; sae, ye ken, it bood
(was bound) to be an extraornar cheap kind of drink; for heather, I’se
warrant, was as plenty then as it’s now. This art o’ theirs was muckle
sought after by the other folk that lived in the kintry; but they never
would let out the secret, but handed it down frae father to son among
themselves, wi’ strict injunctions frae ane to another never to let
onybody ken about it.
"At last the Pechs had
great wars, and mony o’ them were killed, and indeed they soon came to be
a mere handfu’ o’ people, and were like to perish aft’ the face o’
the earth. Still they held fast by their secret of the heather yill,
determined that their enemies should never wring it frae them. Weel, it came
at last to a great battle between them and the Scots, in which they clean
lost the day, and were killed a’ to tway, a father and a son. And sae the
king o’ the Scots had these men brought before him, that he might try to
frighten them into telling him the secret. He plainly told them that, if
they would not disclose it peaceably, he must torture them till they should
confess, and therefore it would be better for them to yield in time. ‘Weel,’
says the auld man to the king, ‘I see it is of no use to resist. But there
is ae condition ye maun agree to before ye learn the secret.’ ‘And what
is that?’ said the king. ‘Will ye promise to fulfil it, if it be na
anything against your ain interests?’ said the man. ‘Yes,’ said the
king, ‘I will and do promise so.’ Then said the Pech ‘You must know
that I wish for my son’s death, though I dinna like to take his life
myself.
My son ye maun kill,
Before I will you tell
How we brew the yill
Frae the heather bell!’
The king was dootless greatly
astonished at sic a request; but, as he had promised, he caused the lad to
be immediately put to death. When the auld man saw his son was dead, he
started up wi’ a great stend,’ and cried, ‘Now, do wi’ me as you
like. My son ye might have forced, for he was but a weak youth; but me you
never can force.
And though you may me kill,
I will not you tell
How we brew the yill
Frae the heather bell!’
"The king was now mair
astonished than before, but it was at his being sae far outwitted by a mere
wild man. Hooever, he saw it was needless to kill the Pech, and that his
greatest punishment might now be his being allowed to live. So he was taken
away as a prisoner, and he lived for mony a year after that, till he became
a very, very auld man, baith bedrid and blind. Maist folk had forgotten
there was sic a man in life; but ae night, some young men being in the house
where he was, and making great boasts about their feats o’ strength, he
leaned owre the bed and said he would like to feel ane o’ their wrists,
that he might compare it wi’ the arms of men wha had lived in former
times. And they, for sport, held out a thick gaud o’ em’ to him to feel.
He just snappit it in tway wi’ his fingers as ye wad do a pipe stapple.
‘It’s a bit gey gristle,’ he said; ‘but naething to the
shackle-banes o’ my days.’ That was the last o’ the Pechs."
This was recorded in Real
Audio by Marilyn Wright and you can listen to it here! |
