Near the crest of Oiseaval, there are a cluster of three distinct and unusual rocks. Known as the Mackinnon, MacQueen and Gillies stones, they all have their own legends; the tales of the latter two linked closely together. They stand parallel to each other a metre or so apart. Nearest to Village Bay, MacQueen’s Stone is mainly covered by moss and lichen, but if the observer looks closely, they can see that there are two bare spaces on its crest, roughly resembling footprints. The Gillies Stone is largely flint, though it appears to have dark, scorch marks at its base as if it has been burnt by flames. Both these rocks feature in a legend that has formed the postscript to the entry in the diary of Mrs MacLachlan, wife of the schoolmaster and missionary Peter MacLachlan, who was based on the island from 1906 till 1909.
‘Friday September 27 1907
Went into William’s House where there was an assembly of women. There I heard the astounding intelligence that Annie MacQueen, daughter of Finlay, is to have a baby in a month or two, and that the father is our friend Donald Gillies, son of poor Finlay Gillies. We are awfully sorry about it and would never have believed it of the latter. Saw Annie MacQueen (one of the culprits) in bed in William’s house, as her father put her out of the house last night and says he will never allow her to darken his doors again.’1
It is the days and hours which follow that lead us to these stones. Apparently, surrounded by the entire congregation, young Annie was forced to stand on the rock that bears her surname, clinging to it so firmly that the prints of her prehensile toes appeared to have dug their way into its surface. Alongside her was her boyfriend, Donald Gillies, perched on top of the large flint stone. Together, they faced the wrath of MacLachlan’s words. His finger flayed in their direction; words spat from his lips.
‘By your sinful actions, you have cast a blemish on this community. You have sullied both the names and reputations of your family with this wicked deed you have done.’
It is said that the foot of the Gillies Stone began to grow black as the sermon progressed – whether through the heat of MacLachlan’s words or the foul nature of the sin the young couple had committed, no one can be certain. The islanders were all, however, aghast at the change that had taken place in the colouring of the rock.
‘It’s as if it’s been on fire,’ one of the older Mackinnons declared, examining it.
Beside that rock, of course, there was the Mackinnon Stone. Its dark and ominous story will be told later…
1 This extract is from Bill Lawson’s essay, ‘Hiort in Pre-1930 Writings’ in Rewriting St Kilda, ed. Bob Chambers (The Island Book Trust, 2011).