Graeme Burnet - His Bloody Project

Some time later two men arrived and went into the stables, where I could hear them readying the horses. When the ponies were led out I was disappointed to see that they were not stallions, but the same stocky garrons with heavy low heads that were kept in the villages. At the same time various supplies and tackle were brought out from the kitchens and set down on the cobbles. The boy with the pipe and I were instructed to load up the first pony. The second was left unburdened, so that it might convey any game from the mountain. With the preparations made, a stout woman in a pinafore and apron emerged from the kitchen with a tray of four cups of tea. This was Lachlan Broad’s wife, Mimi, who worked for Lord Middleton during the yellow months. She bid me good morning in a manner which suggested she was not surprised to see me there. I did not normally drink tea as my father thinks it fit only for womenfolk, but not wishing to set myself apart from the group I took the cup offered to me. And indeed, the communal imbibing seemed to beget a sense of fellowship between the four of us. The tea was sweetened with sugar and less unpleasant than I expected. As we drank one of the men addressed me for the first time.

‘So you are the Black Macrae’s boy?’

I replied that I was the son of John Macrae of Culduie and the two men exchanged a look, the meaning of which was mysterious to me. I was taken aback that these two strangers knew my father’s name and appeared to pass judgement on me due to some idea they had about him.

Mimi Broad returned to collect our cups and asked if I had brought something to eat as we were to be the full day in the hills. Jetta had given me two potatoes, and she nodded in a way that suggested I had done well to be thus prepared. The ponies were led across the cobbles to the front of the house where we awaited the stalking party. One of the men pointed out a large wooden coffer, which I was to carry. It was three feet wide and two deep and fastened at diagonally opposite corners with a heavy leather strap the width of a man’s hand. There was a good weight in it and one of the hands had to lift it over my head and secure the strap over my shoulder. He then told me that it was important not to bump the box or let it tilt to one side as the contents could be broken. I did not ask what was inside, but I felt that I had been entrusted with a task of great importance and resolved to carry it out well. By the time the ghillie joined us, the strap had already begun to cause me some discomfort, but I did my best to conceal it. The ghillie made a cursory inspection of the ponies and made one or two remarks to the men. A gun rested in the crook of his arm. A few minutes later, four gentlemen emerged from the entrance to the house, all dressed in tweeds and holding guns in the same manner as the ghillie. The men were not at all like the natives of these parts. They were tall and straight-backed with fair hair and pink complexions, like that of my erstwhile schoolmaster. The ghillie shook hands with the eldest of the men, whom I took to be Lord Middleton. He then greeted the other men in turn and declared that it was a fine morning and that he was confident they would return with a stag from the mountain. He then addressed them in general terms about what would occur that day and gave out one or two instructions regarding the manner in which to handle their firearms and behave on the mountain. The gentlemen listened attentively and I was greatly impressed for, despite his fine clothes, the ghillie was a Highlander, here addressing his betters with no hint of deference. At the end of his little speech, Lord Middleton clapped the ghillie on the shoulder and, turning to his companions, said, ‘Fear not, his bark is worse than his bite.’ This caused great amusement among the party, except for the ghillie himself, who took a silver watch from the pocket of his waistcoat and declared that it was time they were starting out. We then set off towards the glen, the ghillie and Lord Middleton at the head, followed by the three gentlemen, then the stablemen leading the two garrons, with we two boys bringing up the rear. The morning was warm and overcast. It was not long before the coffer began to knock painfully against the back of my knees. My companion, who was carrying a similar, though clearly lighter box, showed me how to walk with my shoulders back and my hands resting on the sides to prevent it from bumping. This exchange broke the ice between us and he told me that his name was Archibald Ross and he was the eldest of six siblings. I told him that my mother had lately died during the birth of my youngest brother and this had caused our family a good deal of hardship. Archibald Ross replied that for folk like us there was no other ship than the hard ship. I was greatly impressed with this reply and thought my new friend the cleverest person I had ever met.

When we left the track which led through the middle of the glen and started up the hillside, it became impossible to prevent my coffer from swinging this way and that and I became resigned to damaging the contents and incurring the wrath of the ghillie. Archibald Ross maintained a constant monologue, talking in an entertaining manner about his siblings and neighbours in Applecross. He told me quite openly that his father thought the people from the Point to be lazy and inferior beings, especially those from Aird-Dubh, who he regarded as dirty and mendacious. He was at pains to stress that he did not share his father’s view, but I nevertheless reminded him that I was from Culduie and not Aird-Dubh.

As soon as he was old enough and had saved enough for the passage, Archibald intended to emigrate to Canada. There, he told me, young men like us could prosper. Great tracts of fertile land awaited us and within a year one could make more money than our fathers would in a lifetime of scratching a living from their crofts. A cousin of his who had left with nothing but a bag of sowens, now lived in a house twice as grand as Lord Middleton’s. He proposed that we should go together to make our fortunes and I was much excited by the idea. Archibald then told me in a conspiratorial tone that if I made myself particularly useful to the gentlemen, they might at the end of the day slip me a penny or even a shilling. The prospect of such earnings redoubled my resolve to ignore the pain that the coffer was causing me.

After perhaps two hours we reached a plateau overlooking the glen and stopped. I had never had cause to wander this far into the mountains and we were afforded a great vista over the bay of Applecross towards the mountains of Raasay and Skye. The stablemen retrieved two large rugs from the first of the ponies and laid them on the ground. My coffer was lifted from me and from it were taken items of crockery, glasses and bottles of wine. On the ashets were placed an array of cold meats, vegetables, condiments and breads. The gentlemen declared themselves impressed with the spread and commenced eating without the saying of grace. The two hands, having laid out the meal, loitered by the garrons. I sat on a hummock and slowly ate the first of my potatoes. I was tempted to eat the second, but, knowing I was to be a long time on the mountain, resolved to keep it for later. Archibald sat nearby and chewed slowly on a bannock he had taken from the pocket of his jacket. He offered me a piece, which I refused as I did not wish to share my potato. The ghillie ate with the gentlemen, but did not join in their conversation. Nor did he accept the offer of a glass of wine. The gentlemen quaffed freely and competed with one another in ever more elaborate descriptions of the scene before their eyes. One of the gentlemen rubbed his temples and made a joke about having taken too great an advantage of Lord Middleton’s hospitality the previous night. His companion raised his glass and declared, ‘The hair of the dog!’ — a statement which mystified me. Lord Middleton took one small glass of wine and spoke in a low voice to the ghillie. The ghillie made a remark to the effect that the gentlemen would not be shooting many stags after quaffing so much wine and, although said it in a jocular fashion, I understood that it was meant quite seriously and he did not approve of the gentlemen’s behaviour. The gentlemen appeared oblivious to the ghillie’s displeasure, however, and emptied three bottles between them.