CHAPTER XLI.
THE HOUSE OF THE BLACK CATS.
Having bidden such good-e'en to the maids as was severally due to them,I crossed the Nick of the Gadlach and went whistling over the moor. Itook a new road over the heather, and was just at the turning of theEglin Lane, when, deep in the howe of the glen, I came on the strangestkind of cot-house. It was piled together of the rough bowder stones ofthe country, their edges undressed and gaping, the spaces between themfilled in with faggots of heather and plastered with stiff bluish clayfrom the burn-sides. The roof was of branches of the fir trees longburied in the moss, and was thatched with heather. There was an openingin the middle, from which a smoke arose. And I heard a sound likesinging from within--a sound that made my flesh creep.
I went to the door and with my knuckle knocked gently, as is our fashionin that part of the country, crying, "Are ye within, good wife?"
Whereat the strangest unearthly voice answered back to me, as it hadbeen some one reading in the Bible and laughing at the same time--ahorrid thing to hear in that still place and so near the defencelessyoung lassies in the Bower of the Star.
"The waters of Meribah--the waters of Meribah--for they were bitter!" itcried in a kind of wail. "Come ben and hae some brose!" And then thething laughed again.
I took courage to look within, but because it was dark I saw nothing.The whole interior was full of the smoor of reek, and strange thingssped round and round, crossing each other and passing the doorcontinually, like the staves and buckets of a water-mill running round.
"Come awa' ben," again commanded the voice. "Doon, Badrona! Peace,Grimalkin!" The command was addressed to a number of monstrous blackcats, which had been speeding round the walls of the cot like madthings, to the music of the unearthly crooning song which I had heardfrom within.
I stepped across the threshold and found a red peat fire upon the hearthand a black pot hanging over it. I looked about for the person who hadaddressed me. At first I could see him nowhere. But as my eyes grewaccustomed to the light I saw the queerest being--the sight of whom mademy heart grow cold and my hand steal to the little pocket Bible, boundin two halves, that was in my inner pocket.
A small square object sat huddled up at the far side of the fire. Uponits head there was a turban, like those the travellers into the lands ofthe False Prophet tell us of. But this turban was of black bull hide,and the beast's dull eyes looked out underneath with a hellishsuggestion. The figure was squat like a toad, and sitting thus sunk downupon itself, it seemed to be wholly destitute of feet and legs. But agreat pair of hairy arms lay out upon the hearth and sometimes clawedtogether the fiery red peats, as though they had just been casten andwere being fitted for drying upon the moss.
"Come awa' ben. Ye are welcome, honest stranger," again said the thingof the uncanny look, "I am nane bonny, truth to tell, but I'm nocht tomy mither. It's a braw thing that ye are no' to meet wi' her the nicht.She has gane ower by to gather the Black Herb by the licht o' the avalmoon. When the moon faas ower on her back like a sheep that canna rise,then is the time to gather the bonny Wolfs Bane, the Deil's Bit, wi' theberries by the water-side that nane kens whaur to seek, an' the Mandrakethat cries like a murdered bairn when ye pu' it frae the moss. See yehere, there's three dead bairns aneath that hearthstane. Gin ye like Iwill let ye see the banes. She didna pit me there, for the deil's wifehas aye a warm side to the deil's bairn. Sit ye doon and bide a wee.It's braw an' heartsome to see a face at Willie's Shiel in the howe o'the Eglin."
After the first horrid surprise of coming in upon such a place, I sawthat the thing after all was human--an idiot or natural as I judged,with a monstrous twisted body and strange elricht voice like the cryingof the night-wind in a keyhole. But I thought it best to sit down on aseat, even as he bade me, and so I drew a creepie stool carelesslynearer to me with one hand.
"Na, dinna sit on that--that's a stool that naebody can sit on but mymither."
And when I looked at the creepie in the red firelight, for it feltstrange to my hand, lo! it was formed of three skulls set closetogether, and the legs of it were of men's leg bones.
Then it flashed to my mind that I had chanced on the house of Corp-lichtKate, the witch wife of the Star, who for many years dwelt alone on theflowe of the Eglin, with only her idiot son with her for company.
"Na," said the object, "nane can sit on that creepie but the minnie o'me--Corp-licht Kate o' the Star. It's weel for me, an' it's weel foryou, that my minnie's no' here the nicht. But sit ye down and tak' yourrest."
I arose to flee, but the monstrous figure by the red fire waved me down.And I declare that as I looked at him, he seemed to swell and glow witha kind of brightness like the moon through mist. He waved his armsabroad, and immediately about me there began the most affrightingturmoil. Black forms that had been crouching in the corners came out andbegan to circle round us, as it appeared by some devilish cantrip,skimming round the house breast-high, without ever touching the floor orthe walls. They seemed like an army of cats, black and unearthly, allflying in mid air, screeching and caterwauling as at a witch's festival.I began to wonder if the foul, human-headed, toad-like thing thatsquatted by the fire were indeed the black master of witches himself, towhom, for my sins, I had been delivered in the flesh before my time.
But with a wave of his hand the idiot stilled the turmoil, and theflitting demons came to the ground in the shape of a dozen or so ofcats, black and horrid, with arched tails and fiery eyes--as wild tolook at as though they had wandered in from the moor. These retreatedinto the dark corners of the room, whence we could hear them purring andspitting, and see their fiery eyes set on us in a circle out of thegloom, which was dense as night everywhere, save only immediately aboutthe fire.
"I am nae deil, though ye think it, and maist folk says it," said theidiot, fixing his eyes on me. "Some says the daddie o' me was the deil,and some says Mardrochat. I kenna. There's no' muckle to choose betweenthem. Ye can ask my mither gin ye like. I never speered her mysel'.Ye'll hae a sup o' my parritch. They are guid parritch--no' like mymither's parritch. I wad advise ye to hae nocht to do wi' my mither'sparritch. Heard ye ever o' the Hefter o' the Star?"
I told him no, and sat down to see what might happen in this strangeabode so near to the two places where dwelled those whom I lovedbest--the Bower of the Star and the Cave of Macaterick. But I loosenedmy sword and felt that the grip of my pistols came easy to my hand.
"Be na feared o' puir Gash Gibbie o' the Star Sheiling," cried theobject, noticing the action; "he's as honest as he is ugly. But keep wido' the mither o' him, gin ye wad scape the chiding of the channeringworm."
The natural seemed to read the fears of my heart before I knew themmyself.
"Na, ye'll no' dee like the Hefter o' the Star. He was an ill loon, him;he wadna let my mither be, when he cam to heft hoggs in the mid o' theyear. He spied on us as he sat on a hill-tap to watch that his sheepdidna break dykes. But ken ye what my mither did? She gaed oot to himwi' a wee drap kail broth. Tak' ye nane o' my mither's kail broth. Theyare no' canny. But the hefter, silly body, took mair o' them than he wasthe better o'. He took them doon in a bit hollow to be oot o' the wind,and when they fand him, he had manned it to crawl back to his watcher'shill-tap. But there the silly, feckless loon died like a trout on thebank. He didna like my mither's broth. Na, they didna gree weel wi'him!"
And Gash Gibbie went on yammering and grumbling, while I sat and gazeddumbfounded at him, and at the ugly grimalkins in the dark corners,which stared at me with shining eyes, till I wished myself well out ofit all.
"An' ken ye what my mither said when the next hefter cam to see afterhis sheep on the hill?"
I shook my head.
"She said, 'Watna grand ploy it wad be gin this yin were to die asweel!' That was what my mither said."
"And did he die?" I asked.
Gash Gibbie moved his shoulders, and made a kind of _nichering_ laugh tohimself, like a young horse whinnying for its corn.
"Na, he was
ower cunning for my minnie, him. He wadna bide here, andwhen my minnie gaed to him with the guid kail broo and the braxy soomingamang it, says the second hefter, 'I'm no' that hungry the day,mistress; I'll gie the hoodie craws a drap drink o't!'
"And so he did, and as fast as the craws got twa fills o' their nebs,they keeled ower on their backs, drew in their taes three times, cried_kraigh_, and tumbled heels up, as stiff as Methusala! Richt curious,was it na? She is a wonnerfu' woman, my mither!"
The thunder clouds which had been forming all through the heat of theafternoon, began to roar far away by Loch Doon, and as the place and thetalk did not conduce to pleasant thoughts, I rose to go.
"What's your hurry?" cried Gash Gibbie, swinging himself round to myside of the fire, and lifting himself on his hands like a man that hasno feet. "My minnie will no' be here till the mornin', and then we'llhae company belike. For she's gane to warn Mardrochat to send thesodgers to the twa run-awa' lassies up at the bit bouroch on the Meaullo' Garryhorn."
"To bring the soldiers?" I said, for the words made me suddenly afraid.
"Aye," said the natural, looking cunningly at me, "an' Gash Gibbie wadhae warned the bits o' lassies. But he's ower gruesome a tyke to bewelcome guest in lady's bower. But Gibbie wishes the lassies no harm.They are clever, well-busked hizzies."
"I wonder if there are any more wanderers in hiding hereabouts," said I,thinking in my transparent guile to find out whether the Cove Macaterickwere also known.
"Na, na, nane nearer than the Caldons in the Howe o' Trool. There's someo' Peden's folk there that my mither has put her spite on--but nanenearer."
The thunder and lightning was just coming on, as I passed the ring ofcats in the outer darkness of the hut, and looked out. "Good night toye, Gibbie," said I, "and thank ye kindly for your crack and the warmingI hae gotten before the fire!"
"Guid-e'en to yoursel', bonny laddie, an' a guid journey to ye. It'sgaun to be a coorse nicht, and Gibbie maun gang awa' ower the heather tosee gin his bonny mither doesna' miss the road hame!"