Such God awful weather was not unusual for this part of Scotland. The clans of Clarny Coohan slept soundly under peat thatched roofs. In mock safety from what was about. The Cabyll Ushtey of Norensbak
was afoot this night. Young Kerl Coohan could not sleep. The run in with his father . Over the lamb that had
almost been left out of the holding pen , was still in Kerls head. He could detect some noise coming dimly from the sheep shed. Though the Cabyll Ushtey was related to a horse in some awful way. The sheep did not put any faith in faint relations of the spirit kind . Kerls cotten night shirt offered little sense of
warmth and protection against the winds.
Kerl being No small boy but a worthy lad of 13 years. He knew enough not be about Scotland at night
alone ill prepared for elements . and the Balrogs that roamed loose in search of and easy sheep dinner.
Though the trousers his mother and sisters wove on the family loom were crude and plain brown.
They were thick and good against Gods worst rains. His green plaid shirt was a makes shift camouflage.
and fathers old hand me down coat still had many miles left of it.
Kerl opened the back door of the small house. Tough boots from the war in Turkey ,dared anyone to
get in his way. Suddenly form behind him . Kerl could hear and feel the hot horse breath of the Ushtey.
He knew the old wives tales for anyone so unlucky as he was. Pray to St. John ,and shout Gee Kali.
and land on your belli. Gee Kali the lad yelled as he landed with a thud. 'What's all this about' he could
hear people saying as they bumped into furniture in their darkened houses. " twas the Ushtey " said an elderly
voice from in side Kerls house. The faint sound of hooves could be heard in the distance .
The wind now dying as the faint sun rose . the end
By Robert G
No comments:
Post a Comment