From Ilkley town centre, taken the road north across the River Wharfe, turning left and up the country lane towards Nesfield. As you’re driving with the farmed fields on either side, you’ll go round a couple of swerves in the lane and reach the open moorland on your right, just past the small copse of trees on the same side. There’s a small place to pullover on the right 100 yards on and walk up the footpath running northeast onto the moor. Go past the disused quarry and up further till you reach the rounded hill where the tumulus stands.
Archaeology & History
On the moors north of Ilkley – as shown on OS-maps since the 1850s – on the southeastern edge of Middleton Moor, is this singular tumulus, a short distance west of some old quarrying at the curiously-named Lurgy Delf. The small hill is easy to find and appears at the western edge of a whole host of neolithic and Bronze Age remains. It is included as a boundary marker between Middleton and Langbar, as marked by an old stone on its southern side. Eric Cowling (1946) described this as “a spread of stones on Round Hill” in the same context as other burial mounds and cairns in the region, also naming it as the Black Hill tumulus. Many flints had been found all round here and it stands at the western edge of a great number of cup-and-ring stones, stretching eastwards across the moors for several miles. To my knowledge, no excavation has taken place here.
References:
Cowling, Eric T., Rombald’s Way, William Walker: Otley 1946.
From Brodick, walk up the Glencloy dirt-track towards the friendly Kilmichael Hotel but turn off on the left shortly before hand, up another footpath, crossing the stream until you eventually reach the derelict house which was built into the edges of this old tomb. Upon the small rise above here, at the edge of the forestry commission trees, you’ll notice the overgrown ruins of the old tomb.
Archaeology & History
The remains here are somewhat overgrown and ramshackled, but I still like this place and in my younger days used to spend a lot of time here. It can get quite eerie in some conditions and seems to validate some of the folklore said of it. The site was described in Balfour’s (1910) magnum opus as:
“Situated in Glen Cloy, on the moor above Kilmichael House, close to a cottage called Glenrickard. There are no traces of a cairn or of a frontal semicircle. The chamber is formed of rather light flags, with their upper edges nearly on the same level, so that the monument is more like a series of cists than a chamber. The roof and end stone have gone; there are two portal stones, but the gap between them is only 7 inches. The chamber is directed N and S, with the portal to the south. There have been three compartments, but they are rather smaller than usual, the third from the portal being only 3 feet 10 inches long by 2 feet 2 inches broad. Two feet 6 inches from this compartment is another cist, which is possibly a short cist representing a secondary interment, and 10 feet farther north is a second ruined cist placed at a different angle. This last has the appearance of a short cist, but it is not carefully constructed and differs little from the component compartments of the chamber. The structure is anomalous, and may perhaps be regarded as representing a phase of degeneration in the transitional period.”
Glenrickard ground-plan (after Henshall 1972)Glenrickard on 1868 map
Audrey Henshall (1972) later descried the site in greater details in her own magnum opus and told that “two rude clay urns of the primitive flower-pot pattern (were) found in the chamber”, along with “calcined bones, said to have been in the two vessels.”
Folklore
Said by local people to be haunted, the spirit of the tomb was said to have been disturbed upon the building of the derelict house below it. Ghosts of a middle-aged couple and young child have been seen in the house; whilst the spirit of the site can generate considerable fear to those who visit the place when it is ‘awake.’ To those who may visit this out-of-the-way tomb, treat the site with the utmost respect (and DON’T come here and hang a loada bloody crystals around the place in a screwy attempt to “clean” the psychic atmosphere of the place. If you’re that sort of person, don’t even go here! The spirit of the place certainly wouldn’t want you there).
References:
Balfour, J.A., The Book of Arran: Archaeology, Arran Society: Glasgow 1910.
Henshall, Audrey Shore, The Chambered Tombs of Scotland – volume 2, Edinburgh University Press 1972.
The sites that were once here have long since been destroyed as a result of quarrying operations. But thankfully this place was given a quick appraisal by those renowned Scottish archaeologists, Anna Ritchie and D.V. Clarke, before final destruction. They recorded the site in an early edition of Discovery & Excavation in Scotland:
“Two short cists were discovered in November, 1970, during the removal of a long low gravel ridge protruding into the flood plain of the River Clyde. The two cists were both aligned NE-SW and were 14m apart. Both employed identical construction techniques. The side slabs overlapped both end slabs and the N end slab was shorter than the other three slabs, necessitating a building-up of the floor by some 30cm. Both appear to have had a double layer of capstones although this is uncertain in one case. The cists contained and adult and child without grave goods on a gravel floor in one, and an adult with a beaker on a ‘crazy-paving’ floor in the other.”
Crazy-paving in prehistoric times sounds good! The Scots got there first!
References:
Clarke, D.V. & Ritchie, Anna, “Boatbridge Quarry: Short Cists,” in Discovery & Excavation in Scotland, 1971.
This one’s easy as it’s right by the roadside, so making it dead easy for those lazy ones amongst you who don’t like walking! You can find it just past the turn-off (signed) for Acharn Lodge, a few hundred yards along the A827 road (off the A85 by the garage) from Lix Toll, less than a mile before reaching Killin.
Archaeology & History
This solitary standing stone, not much more than about three feet tall, originally stood in the adjacent field and was moved to the edge of the road sometime ago. It was described briefly in William Gillies’ Breadalbane (1938) where he said, “Its height is 3 feet 10 inches and its girth at the base 6 feet 2 inches… This solitary stone is possibly the sole survivor of a group that once formed a circle,” though gives no more information to support this idea. It seems more likely that the stone accompanied a cairn, that was levelled by farming sometime in the 19th century.
References:
Gillies, William A., In Famed Breadalbane, Munro Press: Perth 1938.
From the scruffy Askwith Moor lay-by car-park, along Askwith Moor road, follow the fence north up along the roadside until you reach the gate on your right. Go thru this and head due west into the moor, towards the small cluster of other carved stones (carvings 581, 582, etc), particularly the Small Rings Stone (carving 579). Around here, you’ll notice a cluster of about 10 mounds in the heather, which seem to be prehistoric cairns, and this particular stone rest against the northwestern side of one of them, about 30 yards west of carving 579. If you’re patient, you’ll find it! (if you fancy a look at all these on the moor, gimme a shout & I’ll take you straight to ’em – but you need to make a booking!)
Archaeology & History
This carving takes a bitta finding amidst the mass of deep heather and open moorland and is probably only gonna be of interest to real cup-and-ring fanatics. But it’s the setting which makes it more intriguing — for me anyhow!
Trying to highlight the internal CnRSolar Stone carving
Like other carvings on this moorland, we find it in direct association with a prehistoric tomb (though it aint been excavated), resting up against the edge of one. However, it seems to have been moved from its original position and may, perhaps, have actually faced the other way at some time in the past. We might never know. However, some student in the recent past saw fit to name this small carving the ‘TV Stone’, thanks to the slightly cronky outline of an old television screen, with its small half-cup-and-ring near the bottom corner of the rock. You can see where they were coming from!
Boughey & Vickerman (2003) made only a brief note of the stone, seeing only the cup-and-half-ring here; but there seems to be a faint cup-marking near the middle of their TV screen, along with faded evidence of an incomplete ring around it. You can just about make it out in the poor photos we took of it. (sadly, we were without water when we visited it, which would have highlighted the additional cup-and-slight ring more clearly)
Close-up of cup-and-half-ring
We gave this stone the title ‘Solar Stone’* as it seems more appropriate and would certainly have more mythic relevance to the people who carved this. The curious natural ring, or TV outline, running round most of the stone (with the faded cup-and-part-ring near its centre) may have been attached with more animistic attributes than us moderns tend to give things — children notwithstanding! Circular forms in Nature have universal tendencies in more traditional cultures with such heavenly bodies as sun or moon, which might have been relevant here with the stones association with a tomb.
…Again, we might never know…
References:
Boughey, Keith & Vickerman, E.A., Prehistoric Rock Art of the West Riding, WYAS: Wakefield 2003.
* though did debate in somewhat primitive northern lingo: “Ugh – errr…solar? lunar? Ey? — Solar? Lunar?” uttering the same queried mantra numerous times between ourselves till we got tired and stuck with ‘solar’, as seems common these days (though I preferred ‘lunar’, it’s gotta be told!).
From Gilmerton village, take the A822 Dunkeld road north. Go for about 200 yards and take the little road to Monzie; watching carefully another 200 yards on for the dirt-track on the left taking you across the fields. Go along the track, watching out for the small stones in the field on your right less than 200 yards along. You can’t really miss ’em! This small ring of stones is the Monzie Cairn Circle. The carving is just in front of it!
Archaeology & History
Although we know this brilliant carved stone has some relationship with the Monzie cairn circle only five yards away (it was linked via a man-made stone causeway, running between the circle and the carving), the stone itself is very much deserving of its own entry here — and at the same time I can give Andrew Finlayson’s (2010) excellent book a decent plug aswell! (the superb drawings of the stone, top & bottom, are from Andy’s work)
Allen’s 1882 drawingCarving & proximity of circle
First mentioned (I think) in Simpson’s (1867) early survey, the carving was described soon after by J. Romilly Allen (1882), who gave us an early drawing of the stone. Thought by some to have originally stood upright, the carving was described by Aubrey Burl (2000) as being, “decorated with forty-six cupmarks, cup-and-rings, nine double, one triple, there are grooves and a pair of joined cups.” It’s certainly an impressive carving!
Although the carving has been posited by some archaeologists as an outlier to the Monzie circle, it’s probable that the circle emerged from the carving — a concept that some may find difficult to understand. I’m not aware of any modern excavations here (the last, I think, was in 1938), but my guess would be that the stone causeway laid between the cup-and-ring stone and the circle ran towards the circle from the carving, and not the other way round. The carving is probably older than the stone ring — though of course, without excavation, my idea could be utter bullshit! (there are also some cup-marked stones in the circle aswell – though none as impressive as this)
One of my truly favourite megalith fanatics (despite some of his alignments being out), Alexander Thom, came here and thought this old carving “coincided with a rough stellar alignment from the centre-point of the cairn” (Hadingham 1974); though his notes in Megalithic Rings (1980) tell that,
“from the cupmarked stone beside the circle, the midsummer sun sets above an outlier some 800ft distant.”
The “outlier” that Thom mentions is known as the Witches’ Stone of Monzie; which Simpson (1867) appears to have mistakenly thought was the name of this very carving.
References:
Allen, J. Romilly, “Notes on some Undescribed Stones with Cup Markings in Scotland,” in Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries Scotland, volume 16, 1882.
Burl, Aubrey, The Stone Circles of Britain, Ireland and Brittany, Yale University Press 2000.
Finlayson, Andrew, The Stones of Strathearn, One Tree Island: Comrie 2010.
Hadingham, Evan, Ancient Carvings in Britain, Garnstone: London 1974.
Simpson, James, Archaic Sculpturings of Cups, Circles, etc., Upon Stones and Rocks in Scotland, England and other Countries, Edmonston & Douglas: Edinburgh 1867.
Thom, Alexander, “Megalithic Astronomy: Indications in Standing Stones,” in Vistas in Astronomy, volume 7, 1966.
Thom, A., Thom, A.S. & Burl, H.A.W., Megalithic Rings, BAR: Oxford 1980.
To get here, take the same direction as to reach the Bleara Lowe tumulus, stopping a short distance away when you reach the large heap just by the walling where the moorland levels out. Y’ can’t really miss it!
Archaeology & History
Bleara Moor tumulus
Found on the top of the slope above the Bleara Moor Cairnfield, this is quite a large burial mound that seems to have been forgotten on the small moorland heights above Earby and Lothersdale. No archaeological excavation has been done here and there seem to be no accounts of any finds in local antiquarian records. When we visited the place it was very overgrown and covered in heather, but it stood out in the open landscape. Slightly larger than its more famous companion to the east, this tomb stands three- to four-feet high on average, with a diameter of around 25 yards on its longest northeast/southwest axis. Consistent in structure with the larger cairns on Burley Moor like the Little Skirtful, this tomb was probably built in the Bronze Age. It also seems that a lot of stone has been robbed from this cairn for use in the local walling. The site was given a minimal description on the Pastscape website, where it was described as:
“Round cairn 230m W of Bleara Howe (sic). Scheduled RSM No 23718. A partly mutilated slightly oval mound of peat and heather-covered stones up to 1.2m high with max dimensions of 23m NNE-SSW x 21m WNW-ESE.”
The views from here are considerable and this probably had some relevance when it was first built, but I’m not aware if an assessment of this aspect of the site has been made. More information about the Bleara Moor tumulus (and its companions!) would be hugely appreciated!
There’s no footpath to this site, but we came to it via the car park on Coolham Lane on the southeast side of Earby. Walking uphill, we got over the wooden stile on the moorside and walked up the side of the walling, all the way upwards till we reached the top of the moor. You’ll pass the large Bleara Moor tumulus just by the walling, then head towards the rounded hillock on the top of the moor a coupla hundred yards away. Y’ can’t really miss it!
Archaeology & History
As with many sites in this area, very little has been said of this usually overgrown Bronze Age burial mound. Although no known recorded excavation of the tomb has ever been done, someone dug into the top of the mound in the 1960s, but we have no record of any finds. The tomb stands on the local boundary line between Earby and Lothersdale to the east and was known as ‘Bleara Haugh’ in the 1819 Enclosure Act. But little else has ever been said of it.
Bleara LoweOS-map of site
When we visited the place a few months ago, we were fortunate in that the heather had been burnt back, so allowing a much better view of the site than normally afforded when it’s covered in heather. The rounded mound was between 4 and 5 feet high and measured approximately 20 yards across. The pit which had been dug into the top of the mound was still visible, though much overgrown. The view from the tomb itself was very impressive — which would have been of some importance in the construction of the place. The Pastscape website describes Bleara Lowe as:
“A slightly oval mound of peat and heather-covered stones up to 1.4m high with max dimensions of 21m E-W x 19m N-S. There is a rectangular hollow 3m x 1.5m x 0.4m deep on the cairn’s summit.”
Another larger tumulus or overgrown cairn can be found over 200 yards west of here; plus a number of small singular prehistoric cairns have been located further down the western slope of the moor, known as the Bleara Moor Cairnfield. None of these sites have ever been excavated.
Lilla Cross is situated on Fylingdales Moor, north Yorkshire, between Pickering and Whitby at the junction of two major moorland footpaths. It is located close to the Fylingdales Ballistic Missile Early Warning Station – which resemble giant golf balls on the horizon.
Archaeology & History
Woodwark’s 1930s photo of Lilla Cross
The ancient cross is 10 foot high and free-standing but it sits upon what is probably a ruined Bronze-Age bowl barrow called Lilla Howe; the recumbent stones that lie around the base of the cross may form part of that. It is a sturdy, stocky cross that has some letters carved onto it, one in particular being a large letter “C” possibly meaning Christos (Christ) and with that a small thin cross; there are a few other faint letters but these are difficult to decipher now. A plaque on a nearby stone gives information about the cross. I think Lilla Cross was used as a sort of Medieval milestone or way-marker – hence the lettering on the cross.
In 1952 the cross was moved to Sil Howe near Goathland but 10 years later in 1962 it was returned to its original site on top of Lilla Howe. In the 1920s excavations on the barrow revealed some artefacts of jewellery, but no remains of Edwin’s trusty chief minister were found; the jewellery was, in fact, said to date from the mid 9th century. Lilla Cross has been referred to by historians as the oldest christian cross on the north York Moors.
Folklore
Lilla Cross on 1854 Map
According to the legend, in AD 625 or 626 King Edwin of Northumbria was travelling with his entourage across the moors, but an assassin had been dispatched by the king of the west Saxons to kill Edwin. The assassin lunged forward with his poison tipped sword, but Lilla his chief minister at the king’s court, leapt in between his sovereign and the swordsman. Poor Lilla took the full thrust of the sword and died on the spot thus saving the king from being murdered. King Edwin, who was greatly impressed by this selfless act of devotion, ordered that Lilla being a newly converted christian be buried here in a christian way though he asked that a number of articles be placed with the body including gold and silver. The king then had a cross erected in memory at the spot where Lilla died. But it seems likely that the cross dates from the 10th century, though there may have been an earlier Saxon cross here. References:
Ogilvie, Elizabeth & Sleightholme, Audrey, An Illustrated Guide to the Crosses on the North Yorkshire Moors, Village Green Press: Thorganby 1994.
White, Stanhope, Standing Stones and Earthworks on the North Yorkshire Moors, Fretwell & Cox: Keighley 1987.
Woodwark, T.H., The Crosses on the North York Moors, Whitby Literary & Philosophical Society 1934.
Various ways to get here. Probably the easiest is via the golf course itself, walking up towards the top where the trees reach the hills, but keeping your eyes peeled for the large archetypal tumulus or fairy mound near the top of the slope. Alternatively, come up through the wooded slopes from Bridge of Allan and onto the golf course, keeping your eyes ready for the self same mound sat in the corner by the walls. You can’t really miss it to be honest!
Archaeology & History
This is an impressive-looking burial mound sat, intact, on the edge of those painful golf courses that keep growing over our landscape — and you can see for miles from here! It would seem to have been placed with quite deliberate views across the landscape, reaching for countless miles into the Grampian mountains north and west across the moors of Gargunnock and Flanders towards Lomond and beyond…
Fairy Knowe, facing westSir Armstrong’s old drawing
The Fairy Knowe was first excavated in 1868 by Sir J.E. Alexander and his team, when their measurements found it to be some 80 yards in circumference, 78 feet across and 21 feet high — compared to less than 60 feet across and only 8 feet tall today. The findings were recorded in one of the early PSAS reports, and more recently a synopsis of the account was made of it by the Royal Commission (1963) lads who summarized his early findings and told:
“The excavation revealed a cist in the centre of the cairn, laid on the original surface of the ground and measuring 2ft 6in in length, 1ft 6in in breadth and 3ft in depth. Its walls were formed partly of upright slabs and partly of small stones laid horizontally, while the floor and the roof each consisted of a single slab. Within it there was a deposit, 6in in depth, of black earth, charcoal and fragments of human bone among which pieces of a skull were conspicuous. The cist was covered by a heap of large stones, 8ft in diameter and 13ft in height, and this in turn was covered with earth, in which there were charcoal, blackened stones, fragments of human and animal bones and unctuous black earth. Among these remains were found six flint arrowheads, a fragment of what was once thought to be a stone spear-head, and a piece of pine which, it was suggested, might have formed part of a spear-shaft.”
Also, near the top of the cairn in the fairy mound, Sir Alexander’s team located a prehistoric beaker vessel and fragments of what they thought were other beakers pots. Archaeologist Richard Feachem (1977) also mentioned this site in his gazetteer, simply copying the words of previous researchers.
Other prehistoric cairns can be found nearby: one in Cuparlaw Woods less a mile north; plus the Pendreich cairns on the edge of the moors just over 1 mile to the northeast.
Folklore
Obviously an abode of the faerie folk in bygone times, the tales of the place are sadly fading from local memory… Mr Alexander (1868) thought this place may have been an important site for the Pictish folk, and he may well have been correct, as the legendary hill of Dumyat (correctly known as Dun Myat) 2 miles east of here has long been regarded as an outpost of one Pictish tribe.
The main piece of folklore attached to this place relates to its very name and how it came about. In R.M. Menzies (1912) rare work on the folklore of the Ochils, he narrates the local tale that used to be spoken, which describes a procession here from the Fairy Well, just over a mile to the east. Whether this folktale relates to some long lost actual procession between the two sites, we don’t know for sure. Mr Menzies told:
“Once upon a time, when people took life more leisurely, and when the wee folk frequented the glens and hills of Scotland, there was one little fairy whose duty it was to look after certain wells renowned for their curative properties. This fairy was called Blue Jacket, and his favourite haunt was the Fairy Well on the Sheriffmuir Road, where the water was so pure and cool that nobody could pass along without taking a drink of the magic spring. A draught of this water would have such a refreshing effect that the drinker could go on his journey without feeling either thirsty or hungry. Many travellers who had refreshed themselves at the Fairy Well would bless the good little man who kept guard over its purity, and proceed upon their way dreaming of pleasant things all the day long.
“One warm day in June, a Highland drover from the Braes of Rannoch came along with a drove of Highland cattle, which he was taking to Falkirk Tryst, and feeling tired and thirsty he stopped at the Fairy Well, took a good drink of its limpid water, and sat down beside it to rest, while his cattle browsed nearby. The heat was very overpowering, and he fell into a dreamy sleep.
“As he lay enjoying his noonday siesta, Blue Jacket stepped out from among the brackens and approaching the wearied drover, asked him whence he came. The drover said:
“‘I come from the Highland hills beside the Moor of Rannoch; but I have never seen such a wee man as you before. Wha’ may you be?’
“‘Oh,’ said the fairy, ‘I am Blue Jacket, one of the wee folk!’
“‘Ay, ay man, ye have got a blue jacket, right enough; but I’ve never met ony o’ your kind before. Do ye bide here?’
“‘Sometimes; but I am the guardian of the spring from which you have just been drinking.’
“‘Weel, a’ I can say is that it is grand water; there is no’ the likes o’t frae this to Rannoch.’
“‘What’s your name?’ asked the fairy.
“‘They ca’ me Sandy Sinclair, the Piper o’ Rannoch,’ was the reply.
“‘Have you got your pipes?’ asked Blue Jacket.
“‘Aye, my mannie, here they are. Wad ye like a tune? Ye see there’s no’ a piper like me in a’ Perthshire.’
“‘Play away then,’ said Blue Jacket.
“Sandy Sinclair took up his pipes and, blowing up the bag, played a merry Highland reel. When he finished, he was greatly surprised to see above the well a crowd of little folk, like Blue Jacket, dancing to the music he had been playing. As he stopped they clapped their little hands and exclaimed, ‘Well done Sandy! You’re the piper we need.’
“Thereupon Blue Jacket blew a silver whistle, which he took from his belt, and all the wee folk formed themselves into a double row. Blue Jacket then took the Highland piper by the hand, led him to the front of the procession, and told him to play a march. Sandy felt himself unable to resist the command of the fairy, and, putting the chanter into his mouth, blew his hardest and played his best, marching at the head of the long line of little people, who tripped along, keeping time to the strains of the bagpipes. Blue Jacket walked in front of the piper, leading the way in the direction of the Fairy Knowe.
“Sandy Sinclair never marched so proudly as he did that day, and the road, though fairly long, seemed to be no distance at all; the music of the pibroch fired his blood and made him feel as if he was leading his clansmen to battle. When the Fairy Knowe was reached, the wee folk formed themselves into a circle round the little hill, and sang a song the sweetest that ever fell upon the ears of the Highlandman. Blue Jacket once more took his whistle and, blowing three times upon it, held up his hand, and immediately the side of the knoll opened. Bidding the piper to play on, Blue Jacket led the procession into the interior; and when all were inside, the fairies formed themselves into sets, and the piper playing a strathspey, they began dancing with might and main.
“One dance succeeded another, and still Sandy played on, the wee folk tripping it as merrily as ever. All thoughts of Sandy’s drove had gone quite out of his head, and all he thought of now was how best to keep the fairies dancing: he had never seen such nimble dancers, and every motion was so graceful and becoming as made him play his very best to keep the fun going. Sandy Sinclair was in Fairyland, and every other consideration was forgotten.
“Meanwhile his cattle and sheep were following their own sweet will, the only guardian left to take care of them being his collie dog. This faithful animal kept watch as well as he could, and wondered what had become of his master. Towards evening another drover came along with his cattle for the same tryst. He knew the dog at once, and began to pet the animal, saying at the same time, ‘Where’s your master, Oscar? What’s become o’ Sandy?’
“All the dog would do was to wag his bushy tail, and look up with a pleading air, as if to say, ‘I don’t know; will you not find him?’
“‘My puir wee doggie, I wonder what’s come over Sandy? It’s no like him to leave his cattle stravaiging by the roadside. Ay ay man; and at the Fairy Well too! Indeed, this looks unco bad.’
“The newcomer, who was also a Highlander, made up his mind to spend the night with his own drove and that of Sandy Sinclair, thinking that the missing man would turn up in the morning. But when the morning came there was no sign of Sandy.
“Taking Sandy’s collie and leaving his own dog in charge of the combined droves, he said, ‘Find master, Oscar!’ The wise beast sniffed around for a little and then trotted off in the direction taken the day before by Sandy Sinclair and the fairies. By and by they reached the Fairy Knowe; but there was nobody there as far as the drover could see. The dog ran round and round the knoll, barking vigorously all the time, and looking up into the face of the drover as if to say, ‘This is where he is; this is where he is.’ The drover examined every bit of the Fairy Knowe, but there was no trace of Sandy Sinclair. As the drover sat upon the top of the Fairy Knowe, wondering what he should do next, he seemed to hear the sound of distant music. Telling the faithful dog to keep quiet, he listened attentively, and by-and-by made out the sound of the pibroch; but whether it was at a long distance or not, he could not be certain. In the meantime, the dog began to scrape at the side of the mound and whimper in a plaintive manner. Noticing this, the drover put his ear to the ground and listened. There could be no mistake this time: the music of the pibroch came from the centre of the Fairy Knowe.
“‘Bless my soul!’ exclaimed Sandy’s friend. ‘He’s been enticed by the fairies to pipe at their dances. We’ll ne’er see Sandy Sinclair again.’
“It was as true as he said. The Piper of Rannoch never returned to the friends he knew, and the lads and lasses had to get another piper to play their dance music when they wished to spend a happy evening by the shore of the loch. Long, long afterwards, the passers-by often heard the sound of pipe music, muffled and far away, coming from the Fairy Knowe; but the hidden piper was never seen. When long absent friends returned to Rannoch and enquired about Sandy Sinclair, they were told that he had gone to be piper to the wee folk and had never come home again.”
