THE WITCHES OF DELNABO.

Otago Witness, Volume 1851, Issue 3809, 15 March 1927, Page 86

THE WITCHES OF DELNABO.

By

B. D. D.

Away in the uplands of Banffshire, in a sequestered nook, near the meeting of the crystal Aven with the brawling peatstained Almac, stands the mansion house of Delnabo. In long ago days the estate, which now belongs to one proprietor, was divided up between three small farmers, all at first equally prosperous. But as year after year passed away, two of the men became more and more wealthy, their flocks and herds increased, their crops flourished abundantly, while their neighbours losses became more and more grievous, until he. the most industrious of the three, sank into abject poverty. This poor man’s disappointed wife naturally turned to her neighbour women for comfort, bitterly lamenting her own and her husband’s misfortunes. On one of these occasions they asked her what she would do to improve their position were it in her power so to help herself and her husband.

With bursting heart and streaming eyes, the poor woman somewhat rashly exclaimed/ “Oh! I \vould do anything.”

“Well, then,” replied the older and bolder of her neighbours, “if you will agree to keep what we are to tel] you as a profound secret, and if you will obey us, you will never know want or distress again.” On hearing this the poor woman immediately became suspicious of her neighbours ; who and what they were she could no longer doubt. But she promised to obey them and pledged her word to agree to all their conditions. She was then ordered to take the broom which she used for sweeping the floor—a household tool well known for its magical qualities—to bed with her when she retired for the night, and place it by her sleeping husband’s side. This the two women declared they had done for years. They further enjoined her to meet them at the hour of midnight in order to accompany them to that scene which was to realise for her a happy and prosperous future. Promising faithfully to attend to all they had said, the frightened woman hastened home to her. husband and her neglected household duties. Seeing her agitation and her troubled countenance, the goodman naturally inquired what was the matter. Deeming it no crime, she broke her rashly-given promise, and noured the whole story into her husband’s astonished ears. Commending her for so doing, he decided that he would disguise himself so as to personate her. and proceed at midnight to tlie place of meeting. Accordingly on the stroke of 12 the “bride.” as the two unconscious women called him. sallied forth, and received a most cordial welcome from them both. They presented him with a torch of mossfir. a broom, and a riddle, the same as they themsiflves carried. Hastening along by the side of the flowing Aven, they reached a deep, dark pool, known as Craic T’olnain. or the Crag of the Birds’ Pool. Here, because of the steepness of the Crag, they had to ford the stream, and thus came in sight of Polnain. the Birds’ Pool, itself. What a sight met the eyes of the disguised farmer! The pool, by day so calm and dark, appeared as if wrapped in a shoot of flame: a hundred torches blazed aloft, lighting up the sloping, fern-clad banks of the river and the birch and hazel woods beyond. Unearthly shrieks and (inharmonious yells rent the still, night air, but in the ears of the two women from Belnabo they sounded as the sweetest of music. On they hastened, leaving their companion far behind, for. in truth, ho was in no haste to reach the scene. When he did at length join them by the flaming pool, he halted in horror and amazement.

Upon the lurid water he saw’ scores of old hags, steering themselves to and fro in their riddles, each using her broom as an oar and yelling and shrieking her loudest. In her skinny left hand each held a lighted fir torch, whilst now and then they all -steered themselves into a row and bowed low to a hideous black monster perched on a lofty rock above the pool. The Delnabo wives bade their companion remain on the bank by the river, until they should cross and speak with his Satanic majesty regarding the “bride’s” inauguration. They commanded that, as they steered across the deep pool, their neighbour should speed the voyage in their master’s name. As soon as they were safely embarked and had steered themselves into deep water, the wily farmer shouted, “Go, in the name of the Best.”

The magic spell was broken, a horrid shriek rent the midnight air—crash went the riddles and down sank the two Delnabo witches, never more to rise. In an instant the torches were all extinguished, and the affrighted company disappeared in the darkness. The wily farmer returned quietly home, changed his borrowed garments, and after a few hours spent in refreshing sleep, went out to his labours as usual. Some hours later, his neighbours, who had also

been early astir, returned to their homes ready for, the hearty breakfast of “halesome parritch,” which never during their long wedded life had failed them. What was their horror and amazement to find each home desolate, no cheerful peat fire glowing on the hearth, no wife to bid him welcome. Only an old broom in each cosy box-bed told its awful tale to those who could read such a gruesome omen. We need scarcely add that after the awful fate which had befallen his mischievous neighbours, the poor but honest and upright farmer and his wife soon became prosperous and happy.—Weekly Scotsman.