230 A HUNDRED YEARS 



who lived in the township of Achadh Ghluinachan, in the 

 big strath of Loch Broom. To please and pacify his 

 servants, and as there was no veterinary surgeon to be 

 had in those days, he sent a messenger for the cailleach 

 (old woman), and in due course she arrived. 



Colin Munro sat up all that night (there was really no 

 night, as it was June) so that he might watch the move- 

 ments of the witch. About three in the morning he saw 

 her sneak out of the house and make for the hill, instead 

 of going to the byre, as he supposed she would have done. 

 So he followed, stalking her very carefully, as if she had 

 been an old hind, and watched her from some little 

 distance. The first thing she did was to light a small 

 fire. Then he saw her hunting about for lusan (herbs 

 or plants) and putting them on the fire until the smoke 

 rose up heavenwards. After a bit she returned, and 

 Colin ordered the milkmaids to go and try the cows in 

 his presence, which they did, and, wonderful to relate, 

 the milk of every cow was as perfect as it was before they 

 were bewitched. He could not do otherwise than give 

 the Banahhuidseach (witch) a handsome present. He 

 never could account for this miraculous cure of the cows. 



My uncle writes : " Our old keeper Cameron hated the 

 sight of a hare. He looked on it as an unclean, * no 

 canny ' brute, only fit for mad people to eat, as witches 

 frequently turned themselves into hares especially when 

 they were employed stopping the milk of cows. Indeed, 

 little more than twenty years ago the Tarradale game- 

 keeper, hearing me scofiing about witches, asked me in 

 private if I really believed they did not exist. ' Well,' 



