King Malcolm and the Herd-Boy

Scottish Highlands

Centuries ago, the castle of Kindrochit, in Braemar, was a place of great importance. It was actually a Royal residence, for the kings of Scotland frequently stayed there when on hunting trips.

In the time of Malcolm Canmore, the constable of Kindrochit kept, for the king's amusement, a huge wild boar called Tad-Losgann, which he had captured during a hunting trip in Glen Quoich. The constable was very proud of his achievement, and had caused a special pit to be made for the boar on the rocky bank of the Clunie. A den, partly natural and partly artificial, formed its sleeping quarters. Tad-Losgann was, in fact, one of the 'sights' of Kindrochit and, whenever King Malcolm came on a visit, he always went to see him.

Tad-Losgann was quite small when the constable had captured him, but, as time went on, he became larger and larger, for he consumed a very considerable quantity of food. This did not worry the constable who, being a feudal lord, could do exactly as he pleased, so he simply issued a decree saying that every family in the district must supply in turn a living cow to appease Tad-Losgann's appetite! So Tad-Losgann grew bigger and bigger as the years went by.

Now, it so happened that a poor widow named McLeod was due to supply the required cow for Tad-Losgann. Widow McLeod lived in a little cottage in Glen Slugan with her son, Sandy, a lad of about fifteen. Her husband, a noted bowman in the district, had been killed in a fight at Corriemulzie when Sandy was but a few months old, so widow McLeod had a hard struggle to make ends meet, for there was not much of a living to be had in the Glen.

The cow was one of widow McLeod's most treasured possessions. It had taken her several years to make sufficient to buy the cow, and now, after all her labors, it was to be taken from her to feed Tad-Losgann. It was more than she could bear, and in her misery she cried out that, had her husband been alive, he would have put an arrow through the fat boar's body and thus saved many head of cattle, the loss of which poor people could ill afford.

Widow McLeod did not know that her son was listening to what she said, but he, lying awake in bed that night, devised a plan whereby he might save the life of his mother's cow.

Sandy had inherited his father's gift of archery, and had ample opportunity for practice as, during the long summer days when he was herding, he could make his own bows and arrows and shoot at the wild life on the hillsides. His bowmanship was, indeed, the talk of the district, and people said that, whenever he was old enough, King Malcolm would no doubt take him into his service as one of his archers.

The next day Sandy set about putting his plan into operation. First he made three new arrows, well barbed and carefully feathered, and these being to his satisfaction went up Cairn Laith. There he shot a large capercailzie which he took home, carefully hiding it from his mother. That night he went to bed as usual, but could not sleep for excitement.

About an hour before dawn he got up, dressed, collected his bow and arrows, took the capercailzie from its hiding place and set off for the castle. He forded the Dee below Dalgowan, made his way to Auchendryne, and finally reached the point he had in mind, a rocky ledge on the west bank of the Clunie overlooking Tad-Losgann's pit.

High on the castle wall Sandy could see the sentry on guard, and trembled when he thought that if he were discovered an arrow would wing its way towards him and the alarm would be raised. He would have to be very careful. Sandy peered into the pit. It was empty. No doubt Tad-Losgann would be asleep in his den. Very carefully Sandy took the capercailzie by the legs, swung it round his head once or twice, and threw it over the water right into the pit.

Sandy waited. It seemed like hours until Tad-Losgann came out of his den, sniffed the air, and then bounded forward to the carcass of the capercailzie. This was exactly as Sandy had planned. Very carefully he took aim with his best arrow and fired. The arrow sped forward and in silence Tad-Losgann rolled over dead - the shaft through his heart!

Somehow Sandy got back to the cottage, into bed and, exhausted, fell asleep immediately.

Next morning there was much excitement in the Castletoun. The constable's wild boar, Tad-Losgann had been found dead in his pit with an arrow through his heart. It had happened in the hours of the morning and under the very nose of the sentry, who had been put in chains for his negligence. King Malcolm was expected to arrive the following day, and there seemed little prospect of the mysterious bowman being found before then. He might come again to the castle, and next time it might be the sentry's body that would be found, or even the constable's - worse still, it might be the king's!

Throughout the district, however, there was much secret rejoicing at the death of Tad-Losgann, for it meant that no more cows would have to be supplied to satisfy his appetite. Many indeed hailed the unknown bowman as a deliverer, and hoped that he would not be discovered.

The constable of Kindrochit was a very determined man, and he meant to find out who had killed the boar. He commanded that the arrow be taken from Tad-Losgann's body and brought to him. With great care the constable examined the arrow - it was well barbed and feathered - yes, and feathered in a peculiar way! All he had to do was to find out who in the district feathered his arrows in this manner. Accordingly he sent his men to search every cottage for arrows similar to the one that had killed Tad-Losgann. By nightfall the searchers returned with two arrows of a pattern similar to the one that had killed the boar - with them they brought Sandy, who was put in chains and thrown into the dungeon.

Next day poor Sandy was dragged from the dungeon and taken to the hall before the constable, who was greatly surprised at the prisoner's youth. He heard Sandy's reason for killing Tad-Losgann, but showed little mercy, condemning him to death on the following morning on the gallows on Greag Choinnich.

But what of Widow McLeod? She was completely overcome with grief when Sandy was taken away, and blamed herself time and again for what she had done. It was she who should go to the gallows, not her son. What could she do? The unfortunate woman knew that any appeal to the constable would be in vain, for he was a hard man who had little sympathy for the poor, so her only hope was to appeal to King Malcolm himself. She had heard that the king was expected at Kindrochit the following day, so she set out up the Clunie towards the Cairnwell Pass, by which route the king would come. Through that night and all next morning she waited, chilled by the cold and the fear that she might not succeed in her mission. In the late afternoon she saw a cavalcade approaching - it was King Malcolm and his party. Widow McLeod rushed forward and flung herself at the king's feet and pleaded for her son's life. The king was touched with her sincerity, and said that he would enquire into the matter when he reached Kindrochit, bidding her follow him there.

They arrived just in time, for the guards were leading the poor boy out to his execution as the Royal party were about to cross the drawbridge. The king spoke to the constable, and Sandy and his mother were called before them. The king said that Sandy would have a chance to save his life.

His mother would be placed on the rocky ledge across the Clunie from which he had shot Tad-Losgann, while Sandy would remain on the drawbridge. A peat would be balanced on his mother's head, and if Sandy succeeded in piercing it with his arrow, he would be allowed to go free.

Poor Sandy trembled when he heard the king's decisions, but he was a stout-hearted lad and realized that it was his only chance. He must not fail. He asked for his own bow and the two arrows which had been taken from him, and these were brought.

Across the Clunie, his mother stood with a peat balanced on her head. She smiled over to her son, and so gave him confidence. Sandy took careful aim and fired. His arrow pierced the peat and knocked it from his mother's head. There was a shout of joy from all who witnessed the incident, and the king summoned Sandy before him. 'A splendid shot,' said the king, 'but why ask for two arrows? You know that if you had failed with one you would have been hanged.' 'If I had missed the peat with the first arrow and killed my mother,' was the reply, 'the second arrow would have killed you.' A gasp of horror went round the assembled people, but King Malcolm laughed heartily. 'Well said,' cried the king. 'You are a hardy one - so henceforth you will be Hardy by name, and when you are of age you may join my archers.'

So Sandy and his mother returned to their cottage in Glen Slugan and lived in peace. He was afterwards known by the name of Hardy, but did not join the king's archers, for he never drew a bow again.

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Source: Legends of Northeast Scotland, by Fenton Wyness. 1970. Gramercy Publishing Company. New York.