Macphie’s Black Dog

Mac-vic-Allan of Arasaig, lord of Moidart, went out hunting in his own forest when young and unmarried. He saw a royal stag before him, as beautiful an animal as he had ever seen. He levelled his gun at it, and it became a woman as beautiful as he had ever seen at all. He lowered his gun, and it became a royal stag as before. Every time he raised the gun to his eye, the figure was that of a woman, and every time he let it down to the ground, it was a royal stag. Upon this he raised the gun to his eye and walked up till he was close to the woman’s breast. He then sprang and caught her in his arms. “You will not be separated from me at all,” he said, “I will never marry any but you.” “Do not do that, Mac-vic-Allan,” she said, “you have no business with me, I will not suit you. There will never be a day, while you have me with you, but you will need to kill a cow for me.” “You will get that,” said the lord of Moidart, “though you should ask two a day.”

But Mac-vic-Allan’s herd began to grow thin. He tried to send her away, but he could not. He then went to an old man, who lived in the townland, and was his counsellor. He said he would be a broken man, and he did not know what plan to take to get rid of her. The honest old man told him, that unless Macphie of Colonsay could send her away, there was not another living who could. A letter was instantly sent off to Macphie. He answered the letter, and came to Arasaig.

“What business is this you have with me,” said Macphie, “Mac-vic-Allan?”

Mac-vic-Allan told him how the woman had come upon him, and how he could not send her away.

“Go you,” said Macphie, “and kill a cow for her to-day as usual; send her dinner to the room as usual; and give me my dinner on the other side of the room.”

Mac-vic-Allan did as he was asked. She commenced her dinner, and Macphie commenced his. When Macphie got his dinner past, he looked over at her.

“What is your news, Elle-maid?” said he.
“What is that to you, Brian Brugh,” said she.
“I saw you, Elle-maid,” said he,
“When you consorted with the Fingalians,
When you went with Dermid o Duvne
And accompanied him from covert to covert.”
“I saw you, Brian Brugh,” she said,
“When you rode on an old black horse,
The lover of the slim Fairy woman,
Ever chasing her from brugh to brugh.”

“Dogs and men after the wretch,” cried Macphie, “long have I known her.”

Every dog and man in Arasaig was called and sent after her. She fled away out to the point of Arasaig, and they did not get a second sight of her.

Upon this Macphie went home to his own Colonsay. One day he was out hunting, and night came on before he got home. He saw a light and made straight for it. He saw a number of men sitting in there, and an old grey-headed man in the midst. The old man spoke and said, “Macphie, come forward.” Macphie went forward, and what should come in his way but a bitch, as beautiful an animal as he had ever seen, and a litter of pups with it. He saw one pup in particular, black in colour, and he had never seen a pup so black or so beautiful as it.

“This dog will be my own,” said Macphie.

“No,” said the man, “you will get your choice of the pups, but you will not get that one.”

“I will not take one,” said Macphie, “but this one.”

“Since you are resolved to have it,” said the old man, “it will not do you but one day’s service, and it will do that well. Come back on such a night and you will get it.”

Macphie reached the place on the night he promised to come. They gave him the dog, “and take care of it well,” said the old man, “for it will never do service for you but the one day.”

The Black Dog began to turn out so handsome a whelp that no one ever saw a dog so large or so beautiful as it. When Macphie went out hunting he called the Black Dog, and the Black Dog came to the door and then turned back and lay where it was before. The gentlemen who visited at Macphie’s house used to tell him to kill the Black Dog, it was not worth its food. Macphie would tell them to let the dog alone, that the Black Dog’s day would come yet.

At one time a number of gentlemen came across from Islay to visit Macphie and ask him to go with them to Jura to hunt. At that time Jura was a desert, without anyone staying on it, and without its equal anywhere as hunting ground for deer and roe. There was a place there where those who went for sport used to stay, called the Big Cave. A boat was made ready to cross the sound that same day. Macphie rose to go, and the sixteen young gentlemen along with him. Each of them called the Black Dog, and it reached the door, then turned and lay down where it was before. “Shoot it,” cried the young gentlemen. “No,” said he, “the Black Dog’s day is not come yet” They reached the shore, but the wind rose and they did not get across that day.

Next day they made ready to go; the Black Dog was called and reached the door, but returned where it was before. “Kill it,” said the gentlemen, “and don’t be feeding it any longer.” “I will not kill it,” said Macphie, “the Black Dog’s day will come yet.” They failed to get across this day also from the violence of the weather and returned. “The dog has foreknowledge,” said the gentlemen. “It has foreknowledge,” said Macphie, “that its own day will come yet.”

On the third day the weather was beautiful. They took their way to the harbour, and did not say a syllable this day to the Black Dog. They launched the boat to go away. One of the gentlemen looked and said the Black Dog was coming, and he never saw a creature like it, because of its fierce look. It sprang, and was the first creature in the boat. “The Black Dog’s day is drawing near us,” said Macphie.

They took with them meat, and provisions, and bedclothes, and went ashore in Jura. They passed that night in the Big Cave, and next day went to hunt the deer. Late in the evening they came home. They prepared supper. They had a fine fire in the cave and light. There was a big hole in the very roof of the cave through which a man could pass. When they had taken their supper the young gentlemen lay down, Macphie rose, and stood warming the back of his legs to the fire. Each of the young men said he wished his own sweetheart was there that night. “Well,” said Macphie, “I prefer that my wife should be in her own house; it is enough for me to be here myself to-night.”

Macphie gave a look from him and saw sixteen women entering the door of the cave. The light went out and there was no light except what the fire gave. The women went over to where the gentlemen were. Macphie could see nothing from the darkness that came over the cave. He was not hearing a sound from the men. The women stood up and one of them looked at Macphie. She stood opposite to him as though she were going to attack him. The Black Dog rose and put on a fierce bristling look and made a spring at her. The women took to the door, and the Black Dog followed them to the mouth of the cave. When they went away the Black Dog returned and lay at Macphie’s feet.

In a little while Macphie heard a horrid noise overhead in the top of the cave, so that he thought the cave would fall in about his head. He looked up and saw a man’s hand coming down through the hole, and making as if to catch himself and take him out through the hole in the roof of the cave. The Black Dog gave one spring, and between the shoulder and the elbow caught the Hand, and lay upon it with all its might. Now began the play between the Hand and the Black Dog. Before the Black Dog let go its hold, it chewed the arm through till it fell on the floor. The Thing that was on the top of the cave went away, and Macphie thought the cave would fall in about his head. The Black Dog rushed out after the Thing that was outside. This was not the time when Macphie felt himself most at ease, when the Black Dog left him. When the day dawned, behold the Black Dog had returned. It lay down at Macphie’s feet, and in a few minutes was dead.

When the light of day appeared Macphie looked, and he had not a single man alive of those who were with him in the cave. He took with him the Hand, and went to the shore to the boat. He went on board and went home to Colonsay, unaccompanied by dog or man. He took the Hand up with him that men might see the horror he had met with, the night he was in the cave. No man in Islay or Colonsay ever at all saw such a hand, nor did they imagine that such existed.

There only remained to send a boat to Jura and take home the bodies that were in the cave. That was the end of the Black Dog’s day.