Graeme Burnet - His Bloody Project

When the men had declared themselves sated, the crockery and foodstuffs were packed away and I was informed, to my relief, that there was no need for me to carry the coffer further as I could retrieve it on our return journey. I was thus in good spirits as we resumed our trek and this increased when one of the hands, wishing to fill his pipe, asked me to lead his garron. I took great pride in this elevation of my duties, and felt that it signified my acceptance by the men. We took a turn to the south between two peaks and I imagined our party as explorers venturing into undiscovered lands. Lord Middleton’s guests were in high spirits and conversed loudly with one another. The ghillie was obliged to tell them to keep their voices down or there would be no sport that day. I was taken aback to see the ghillie address the gentlemen in this curt fashion, but Lord Middleton did not appear in the least affronted. The gentlemen looked quite shame-faced and continued in silence. The ghillie now took the lead and every hundred yards or so, he directed us to halt by stretching the palm of his hand from his side. We stood, barely taking a breath, as he scanned the mountainside and seemed to be smelling the air, before wordlessly directing us to proceed this way or that with a further gesture of his hand. After an hour or so, we came to a ridge and the ghillie instructed us to keep our heads down. I lay on my belly in the heather. The mood of our party was now quite sombre. Below us a herd of thirty or forty deer grazed. The hinds all faced in one direction, their heads lowered to the sod, moving slowly forward like a group of women sowing crops. We were close enough to see the unhurried rotation of their jaws. At the head of the group was a stag with antlers like a pair of craggy hands held towards the sky. The beasts were quite unaware of our presence.

The ghillie silently indicated to one of the stalkers to come forward. This gentleman silently, and with some competence, loaded his weapon and directed it towards the stag, resting his head on the butt. It was a moment of great solemnity. I was close enough to the gentleman to see his finger move towards the trigger. I looked again to the stag and felt it a terrible shame that it should die in order that this man might mount its head on the wall of his parlour. The gentleman’s finger curled around the trigger. Without any forethought, I leapt suddenly to my feet and bounded over the ridge, flapping my arms like a great bird and crowing like a cock. The deer below took flight and the gentleman loosed his shot into the air. The ghillie leapt forward, grabbed me by the arm and threw me roughly to the ground. I was, at that moment, as shocked as he by my actions and immediately regretted them. The ghillie uttered a series of crude oaths and, fearing that he would set about me with the butt of his weapon, I covered my head with my arms. He did not do so, however, and I was left prostrate in the heather feeling dreadfully foolish. The two hands laughed heartily, but were silenced by a stern look from the ghillie. Lord Middleton’s face had turned quite purple, whether from the effects of the mountain air or from rage, I could not say. The three gentlemen stared at me in astonishment. I fancied that the ghillie might send me running down the glen so that the guests might take shots at me in lieu of the sport I had disrupted. Nothing of that nature occurred, however. Lord Middleton stepped forward and asked the ghillie my name.

‘He is Roderick Macrae, son of John Macrae of Culduie,’ he replied.

Lord Middleton nodded and said, ‘See that he is not employed on the estate again.’

He then turned and apologised to his guests. Had I been given the opportunity I would have done the same, but I was sent off the mountain and reminded to collect my coffer and return it to the kitchens. I struggled to my feet, grateful to Lord Middleton for the leniency of my punishment. As I departed the group, Archibald Ross averted his gaze, not wishing to associate himself with such an imbecile.

When I returned that evening I said nothing about the incident on the mountain. The following morning I left with my two potatoes in my pocket as if nothing untoward had occurred and spent the day loitering among the lochans on the Càrn. When I returned in the evening my father had heard word of my misdemeanour and I received a deserved and thorough beating.

* * *

Some time after the incident with the sheep, a rumour arose that Lachlan Broad had paid a visit to the factor. The provenance of the rumour was unclear. A number of inhabitants of Applecross claimed to have seen Broad walking in the direction of the factor’s house, but this in itself could hardly be said to constitute proof. It was unheard of for a person to visit the factor of their own volition, but had he been summoned, the notice would have been served through the constable, and Calum Finlayson had served no such notice. My father muttered darkly that the most likely source of the rumour was Lachlan Broad himself. In any case, through force of repetition the story came to be accepted as fact.

What is certain is that shortly after this alleged visit, Calum Finlayson was himself summoned to see the factor. Mr Finlayson’s tenure as constable was due to end in a matter of months and, somewhat exceptionally, he had succeeded to see out his term in this unwanted role without estranging himself from his neighbours. As the factor’s factotum, the constable is in an unenviable position. If he fails to enforce the regulations, he invites the wrath of the factor, while if he implements the terms of tenancy too vigorously he alienates himself from the community. Mr Finlayson had succeeded in avoiding the latter situation by choosing to quietly draw attention to any transgressions over a strupach, rather than hastening to the factor at the first opportunity. Similarly, where possible, he had encouraged tenants to resolve disputes between themselves and, when required to arbitrate, he was generally thought to have done so in an even-handed manner. The great majority of the community wished him to continue in the position, but accepted that it was a measure of his good character that he had no wish to do so.

After his audience with the factor, Calum Finlayson made it known he had been informed that he had not been pursuing his role with sufficient vigour. Whether this had been brought to the factor’s attention by Lachlan Broad was a matter of speculation, but the consequence was that for the remainder of his term he would be obliged to enforce the regulations with greater stringency. In order to compel him to do so, the factor had ordered that he must raise a certain amount in fines in his remaining months in office. Were this sum not achieved, the constable would be obliged to pay the shortfall from his own pocket. Mr Finlayson was greatly distressed by the situation.

A meeting attended by the great majority of inhabitants of our townships was held at Kenny Smoke’s house. It was decided that in order to spare Mr Finlayson from the obligation to levy the necessary fines on his neighbours, the regulations would be adhered to as scrupulously as possible. It was further decided that in order to raise the sum required by the factor, those families in a position to do so would contribute five shillings to a general fund. Those that were less well off could contribute according to their means. After the meeting, despite the resentment at being forced, as Kenny Smoke put it, to line the factor’s pockets, the people were in high spirits and there was singing and much drinking of whisky.

Lachlan Broad and his kinsmen were not present at the meeting and later refused to contribute to the fund. My father did not approve of the scheme on the grounds that it involved deception and defiance of the powers-that-be. Nevertheless, he contributed a shilling as a mark of the esteem in which he held Calum Finlayson. As no one wanted a black mark against their name for having transgressed the regulations, it was agreed the fines would be recorded as having been levied equally against the families of the parish. In this way, no family or individual could be singled out for further sanction. As the summer wore on, despite the hardship caused by the unnecessary expenditure, the scheme became a source of some amusement. Fines were levied for ever more frivolous transgressions. My father’s contribution was recorded as a penalty for allowing his cock to crow during the hours of darkness. Kenny Smoke was fined for failing to enquire after the health of the factor, and Maggie Blind, a widow from Camusterrach, for setting out to walk to church with her left foot. When the time came for Mr Finlayson to hand over the funds, the factor must have suspected that all was not as it seemed, but he could scarcely accuse his constable of failing to execute his duties zealously. The people were generally highly delighted with the success of the scheme, seeing it as a small victory over the authorities. My father, however, was of the opinion that the people should not be so pleased to be handing over their money to the factor, and I shared this view.