224 A HUNDEED YEARS 



Then we had Eachainn Crom (Bent Hector) and the 

 Oinseach bheag (the little she-idiot), and all sorts and 

 sizes of lunatics, some of whom were often quite amusing. 

 Our favourite was Iain Bait (Drowned John) from Loch 

 Broom. He was more often called Bathadh (drowning). 

 He was a singer, and could go on singing Gaelic songs 

 for ever at the top of his voice. On one occasion he fell 

 into the Ullapool River when it was in flood, and com- 

 menced yelling out " Bathadh, hdthadh, a Dhia gle 

 mise" ("Drowning, drowning! God, save me!"); 

 but when he got hold of some heather or a bush on the 

 bank of the river and felt himself a little safer he called 

 out, " Ah / fhaodadh noch ruigeadh tu a leas " (" Oh ! 

 perhaps now Thou need not take the trouble "). He 

 was quite sharp in some ways. On one occasion when 

 the Ullapool people had ofiended him he avenged himself 

 very cleverly. Seeing a long line with many hundreds 

 of hooks baited with fresh herring lying in some outhouse 

 ready to be set in the sea the following day, he waited till 

 everyone was in bed and asleep and then set it right along 

 the village front. As Ullapool indulged largely in ducks 

 in those days, and as ducks, unlike hens, are night- 

 feeders, the long line was doing its work all night, and 

 endless operations, many of which proved fatal, had to 

 be performed in the morning on the ducks. 



There was also a famous mad Skye woman who used 

 to go round the country, called Nic Cumaraid. She was 

 accompanied by a big drove of pigs. She always slept 

 outside in the heather, and the pigs lay close up round 

 her and kept her warm, but I only used to hear of her 

 and never actually saw her. 



