1888-89.] Kintail and Glenelg, with Notices of the Brochs. 237 



the binding-stones, I am inclined to assume that they repre- 

 sent a fragment of the original stair which served as a some- 

 what rude means of communication between the various 

 galleries. This supposition would, hov/ever, require the con- 

 firmation of an expert in archaeological matters. 



It will readily be assumed that an erection like this could 

 hardly exist in a district where superstition was of yore, and 

 is yet to a certain extent, rampant, without being the subject 

 of many traditions and anecdotes, and Grugaig forms no excep- 

 tion to this hypothesis. The bulk of these are of the i;sual 

 silly and unreliable type, and indeed are barely worthy of 

 record, save as showing to what depths of imbecility some 

 folks can descend. The following will suffice as an example. 

 The word " Grugaig " in Gaelic is said to mean " a surly or 

 ill-conditioned woman," and the broch derived its cognomen 

 from being at one period of its history the residence of a 

 cankered old female, who, from all accounts, must have been 

 anything but a desirable neighbour — in fact, quite the reverse. 

 It seems to have been the custom of this ancient party to lie 

 in bed rather late in the morning — a habit not unknown or 

 uncommon even in modern times — and on those occasions 

 having by her sloth allowed the fire to become extinguished, 

 she calmly stepped across the loch to Ardelve, a distance of 

 more than a mile, helped herself to a lighted peat from the 

 fire of some more provident housewife, and returned to the 

 tower in the same fashion. Another version of this veracious 

 tale does not even give her credit for so much activity, but 

 states that she merely turned in her couch and stretched her 

 arm across the sea, thus abstracting the peat with a maximum 

 of ease and a minimum of exertion. The only incongruity 

 that seems to impair the truth of this tradition — at least, to 

 us benighted Sassenachs — is the marked discrepancy between 

 the size of the broch and its inmate. If her limbs were of 

 such an unusual length as to be capable of stretching more 

 than a mile at will, the question naturally arises, how did she 

 dispose of these in the narrow galleries of the tower ? Unless 

 she had powers of expansion and contraction such as are 

 possessed by that hideous creature the octopus, it is difficult 

 to understand how they were stowed away. Strange to say, 

 a detracting circumstance like this never seemed to militate 



