Long ago there lived the great Laird MacDonald who was so rich that he could employ a tailor to work year round at his castle at Saddell, on the east coast of Kintyre. One day he called for the tailor because he wanted a new pair of trews.
‘That’ll be soon enough done,’ said the tailor.
But MacDonald also made a strange request. He wanted the trews to be made at night in the old ruined abbey.
‘For I hear the abbey is haunted by a fearsome thing seen only at dead of night. I will pay you for the trews but double the reward for the story you bring back.’
So the tailor agreed and he cut the fabric and put together his needles and thread and when night came the tailor set off up the glen to the ruined abbey, about half a mile from the castle. Inside he found a gravestone to serve as a seat and he lit his candle, put on his thimble and set to work on the trews, stitching and sewing, his needle shining, and all the while thinking of the handsome reward he’d collect from MacDonald.
He was doing quite well when all of a sudden he felt the ground tremble under his feet. Keeping his fingers at work he looked about him and spied a great head rising up through the stone floor of the abbey.
‘Do you see this great head of mine?’ the thing said.
‘I see that, but I’ll sew this!’ replied the tailor, stitching and sewing.
Then the head rose higher, higher, through the stone floor until its neck appeared.
‘Do you see this great neck of mine?’
‘I see that, but I’ll sew this!’ replied the tailor as he stitched and sewed, stitched and sewed.
The thing rose even higher still until great shoulders and a chest appeared above the ground.
‘Do you see this great chest of mine?’
Again the tailor replied, ‘I see that, but I’ll sew this!’
Still it kept rising above the stone floor until it shook a great pair of arms in the tailor’s face, ‘Do you see these great arms of mine?’
‘I see that, but I’ll sew this!’ and he stitched faster and faster for he knew he had no time to lose. He began to sew with longer stitches as he watched it rising, rising until it lifted out a leg and stamped it on the floor.
It roared, ‘Do you see this great leg of mine?’
‘Aye, aye, I see that, but I’ll sew this!’ cried the tailor. His fingers flew with the needle and the stitches got longer and longer. He had almost finished the trews when the thing began lifting its other leg. But before the thing could pull its other leg above the stone floor, the tailor finished the trews. He blew out the candle, bundled up the trews under his arm, jumped off the gravestone and ran out of the abbey.
The fearsome thing gave a great howl, stamped with both its feet on the stone floor and out of the abbey it went after the tailor. Down the glen they ran, but the tailor had a head start, a nimble pair of legs and no wish to lose the laird’s reward. He ran and the thing ran, he ran and it ran, faster and faster.
The thing howled again but the tailor held the trews tight and let no darkness grow under his feet until he reached Saddell Castle. No sooner was he inside and the door slammed shut than the thing was upon it grasping at the stone doorjamb with great fury.
The noise woke all within the castle and they rushed down the stairs to find the tailor, white as a sheet and panting hard. He gave the trews to the laird. MacDonald never noticed some of the stitches were somewhat long because he was so interested in the story the tailor had to tell and for this he more than doubled the reward!
If you ever visit Saddell Castle, look closely at the stone doorjamb and there you will see the five finger marks left by the fearsome thing.