circling the centre club; then they will circle the four outside clubs in the opposite direction, and fall into line again round the centre club. 3rd 281 2nd THE MAZE The maze differs from most other figures in that the leaders do not have an equal number of followers. If there are three leaders and the first has two or three followers, the second must have six or eight, and the third twelve or fourteen; the reason of this is that the second set of riders has to circle outside the first, and the third outside the second, and so on. This figure requires only one club. When all the riders are in single file ready to mount the word is given, and they ride in a large circle, one after another. At the word 'maze' the first leader and her followers will turn in to the centre, where they circle the club. The second leader and her followers turn short round and back towards the centre, where they circle outside the first set of riders in the opposite direction. The third leader and her followers circle the second set of riders in the opposite direction, and they all continue circling in this manner till the word is given to 'unravel,' when each will fall out as they came in and join in one large circle again, riding on until the word is given to 'dismount.' The maypole is a very pretty fancy figure, but not so easy as the others mentioned because it cannot be executed unless all the riders are able to steer perfectly with one hand only. A maypole is placed in the centre of a room or lawn, and from the top hang long bright ribbons corresponding in number with the riders who are to take part in the figure. Each rider holds a ribbon in one hand and guides the machine with the other. Half the riders go one way round the maypole, while each alternate one goes in the opposite direction. All the riders mount simultaneously, and those who go one way keep outside the others to the right, holding up the ribbons over their heads as they pass them. They then turn inwards to the left, and slacken their ribbons while the riders facing them hold up the ribbons in their turn over the heads of the others, and pass them on the outside. The riders continue thus to thread in and out of each other till the ribbons are plaited round the pole, and the word is given to dismount. It will be seen from the few examples I have given above that, with a little ingenuity, any number of rides may be invented and carried out by a party of guests staying together in the country where there is a large, smooth lawn, and some movable clubs to mark out the various figures; and for ladies who are not strong enough to go long distances on their bicycles, fancy riding will be found a most interesting pastime. CAROLINE CREYKE. A fragment of the spinning-wheel go by; ACROSS wide stretches of firm white sand in the Island of Tyree, I am listening to the tide breaking in softest music. Round this beautiful island for miles are lovely bays, great and small. The white bay in the north-east, where I am now sitting, is strewn with pink cowrie-shells, and not far off I see rainbow-hued islands floating between sky and ocean, glorious as any Isles of the Blessed could ever be. The sea that intervenes passes from chrysoprase through sapphire into amethyst. These Islands due east are Mull, Staffa, Iona, Jura, and the basalt cliffs of the Dutchman's Cap lie deep in shadow on the horizon. Fladda, Lunga, Ulva, Gomtra, and Erisgur can be seen; and to the south lie Colonsay, Oronsay, and, still further in the outer Hebrides, Barra, South Uist and Benbecula. From the north end of Tyree, Coll is seen close by. Travelling further west, Rum Eigg, Canna, and Muick are visible, and from the north-west of the Island the Isle of Skye appears as blue as the heavens on this most heavenly day. The tide far out is still retiring, and the setting sun turning the wet sand into a sheet of liquid fire. It is the hour for the reels of the fairies, or 'people of peace,' on the sands. The dwellers in Tyree say they come down here from their chosen hill, Ben Hough,' in which they live over there in the west corner of the Isle; but the only footprints in the sand to-night which I can trace in myriad fantastic patterns are not those made by fairy hosts, but by the gull, the kittiwake, the curlew, and the plover. Where are they, the beautiful piping people, in green, tonight? And, I wonder, where are the fairy or cailleach' 2 dogs, for only yesterday I heard they were a special haunting feature of this island, supposed to be the spirits of a Tyree short-haired race now extinct. But the colour-spell is gradually changing on the Morven hills and the many Isles, and over the quiet sea. The deep is 1 Hill of Hosts (Gael.). 2 Old woman, or witch, in Gaelic. calling, and time seems to catch up like a variant vague thoughts borne from afar. Where purple bugloss binds the silver sand, Oh, set me free, for I am sick of fancies; Make musical my verses, wanton air, Now closing day veils the 'Mams' of the world, the Paps of Jura lie in shadow, and the way homeward tends to thoughts near the dark side of Highland lore. There across the wide moorland a certain witch lived quite lately, reputed to take the form of a coursing black hare at will, with intent to beguile, and along this road has wended many a visionary funeral, the mourners bearing a phantom coffin, sometimes dressed in quaint green dresses. A minister of north Uist sees so many of these funerals on the roads of his parish at night that he declares he always walks at the edge of the road to avoid being trampled under foot. He said that one of his parishioners was knocked down by a fairy funeral, and was laid up for weeks from the effects. After this what can be said of the ethereality of the courteous throng'? Were the members of the Psychical Society to win the confidence of the natives of Tyree by talking to them in Gaelic, they would get some curious information to add to their already voluminous testimony as to the reality of second sight in other countries. The two sights is the Highland way of expressing their abnormal gift. One cannot touch the heart of the primitive West Highlander unless one 'has the Gaelic' as they express it, and yet a few words of the Gaelic does not always win their confidence. I met an old Highland woman on the road at Appin whom I greeted with the usual Cia mar tha sibh'n diugh?' which, being interpreted, means 'How do you do?' She answered with the usual' Cia mar tha sibh fhein?'- How are you yourself? '—which encouraged me to hope for more confidence. I broke out in English with Will tell me your name you 6 ?' Name! she repeated in a high shrill key, as she shouldered her bundle of sticks. 'My name's Ann; and if you would ask more, or I would be 3 Iona, or Ithonna, signifies in Gaelic the Island of the Waves.' It is also called Ishonna, which means the happy' or blessed' isle. telling it ye, ye wad tak' too muckle on yoursel'.' And, turning on her heel, she went, leaving me, crestfallen, on the road. When I met another, and gave her in English the usual Highland greeting, 'It's a soft day' (for it was pouring), she said, as she shook me warmly by the hand, in Gaelic, 'It's proud I am this day; but will you not bend yourself to talk the Gaelic? Bless you, it's well I wish you, with peace and prosperity to the end of your days!' It was in these parts that I heard the Gaelic blessing supposed to be said by Fergus when he came to the house of the Fingalians at Hounga. I give the translation: 'I come here on a visit to the door of the gentleman, and it is the custom of the town that no one gets in without a rhyme; we will keep it up. Bless the house and all that is in it, the wife and the children, wee Kersity and the grandchildren, the yellow hen and the chickens. I would not ask more joy of the earth than the potatoes of such a field, bread, cheese, whisky, tea in a bowl and sugar too, long feet to cross the ford and to be in Dalmachabich for evermore. Amen.' At Iona (Ishonna, the glorious 'island of the wave') I heard of water kelpies from an old man who had lived for many years in a sheiling on Staffa tending flocks. They appeared to him in the form of water-horses. This was many years ago; he was so deafened by the noise of the roaring ocean, and overwhelmed by his loneliness, that he was removed to Iona, where he has remained ever since. It is alleged that here in the Tombs of the Kings are buried forty-eight Scottish kings, two Irish kings, one French king, and eight kings of Norroway. Macbeth was the last king buried here. The burial-place of the former Lords of the Isles, the MacLeans, MacDonalds, and MacLeods, is the Reilag Oran; it dates from the twelfth century, and was built by Margaret, Queen of Scotland. According to the tradition of to-day, when any member of the MacLeans of Lochbuie passes away, the spirit of an ancestral MacLean chieftain is heard and seen riding past the 'Reilag Oran' on a black horse, to the sound of clanking chains. The Nunnery was built in the twelfth century. It contains the tombs of the Canonesses of St. Augustine. Anna, the last Prioress of the Nunnery, is buried here, and the people tell us how in the twilight she is whiles' seen sweeping by in her trailing garments. The St. Columba miracle legends are too well known to republish here. On the green slopes of this holy island, where tradition tells us venom is unknown,' I heard a fairy love-song. Here is the rough translation: 'A lonesome lass, sleeping between the rocks, dreamt one came and lay beside her. She knew not who he was, nor knew she from • Or burial-place of Oran. St. Oran was the favourite monk of St. Columba.. Oran signifies Priest of the Sun, or Fire. |