THE CARLIN STANE was a big rock in the middle ο the Clyde at a bonnie braid bit whaur the banks wident oot ablow Stanebyres Linn. Clyde was gentle at the Carlin Stane, rinnin shalla ower graivel and chuckies, save on the Nemphlar side, whaur it was ower deep to wade, and had eneuch pouer forbye to cairry ye aff yer feet. Roun ahint the Carlin Stane, on the deep side, there was supposed to be a whirlpool, that wad souk ye doun if ye gaed dookin in it, and I wadna woner gin this was true, for my faither ance showed me an auld book wi a ballad in it, caaed ‘The Mermaiden ο Clyde’, and in the ballad there was a whirlpool ahint the stane caaed the Gaun Weill. But whan I was a wee laddie I hadna heard the whirlpool caaed by that name, and I didna try to wade oot faur eneuch to look for it. I was content to play on the Stanebyres side in the shalla watter, or on the sandy bank.
It was a lang wey to the Carlin Stane frae Linmill, and I couldna gang by mysell. Nane ο the aulder anes could spare the time to tak me, aither, sae I juist gat whan I could coax my cuisins to come alang wi me. They werena that hard to coax, for whan they took me wi them my minnie gied them the lend ο her picnic kettle, and made up a basket for them wi scones and pancakes and biscuits, and gied us aa a bawbee to ware at the Falls shop on oor wey bye.
But it wasna juist the thocht ο the picnic that gart ane’s pulse quicken at the chance ο gaun to Carlin. There were ither ploys tae that were byordinar. Ye could fin baggies in the Dublin Burn, and mennans in the Lowp whirlies at the fute ο the Linmill parks, but ye had to gang to Carlin for beirdies. A beirdie was bigger nor a mennan, and gey like it, save for ae thing. It had ane or twa lang whiskers on ilka side ο its mou. Nou mennans were catchit in gless jaurs, like baggies, but to catch a beirdie ye needit a horse-hair snare, sae the ein afore a picnic at the Carlin my cuisins and I were aye in the stable, efter horse hairs. The best hairs were the langest, oot ο the middle ο the tail, but if the horse kent ye were gaun to pou hairs oot ο his tail he wadna let ye near it. He jusit liftit a hin leg and lat flee, and it wad hae gaen ill wi ye gin he had gotten ye. Ye wad hae been plaistert against the stable waa, my grandfaither said, like a pund ο minced collops. We gat oor horse hairs, for aa that, for we gaed to the stable juist whan the horses were bein beddit for the nicht, and their corn had been putten in the trochs, and my grandfaither or my uncle John was in the laft forkin doun hey into their racks. There was siccan a steer at that time, and the horses were sae taen up wi their meat, that they didna notice if ye slippit up ahint them and singlet oot a hair. And by the time ye had gien it a guid quick teug, and jumpit weill clear ο their hin legs, it was owre late for them to kick ye. Mind ye, we had mony a close shave, and my grandfaither whiles gat gey crabbit, but we neir gaed to Carlin withoot rowth ο horse hairs.
The ae day that I hae mind ο nou, my minnie took us doun to the Falls road-end, whaur ane ο the Linmill drives met the Clyde road, to see us roun the bend and ower on to the fute-pad, for there were whiles motor-caurs on the Clyde road, a new thing in thae days, and she was feart we micht be rin ower. But there were nae caurs that day, and whan we had gotten across on to the fute-pad we waved her guid-bye, and set aff wi oor kettle and oor picnic basket for the Falls hoose, whaur Martha Baxter keepit her wee shop. Efter we had wared oor bawbees, on luckie-bags maistly, we gaed through the Falls yett withoot peyin oor threepence, for the Baxters didna chairge their friends for entry to the Falls walks. The chairge was for the tounsfolk that cam in fower-in-haund brakes.
The Falls walk had been laid oot on the steep bank ο the Clyde aboot Stanebyres Linn, to let folk win to the best places for a view ο the tummlin watter withoot dirtyin their feet or mebbe slippin to their daith. There were airn railins atween the walks and the bank, and saits here and there whaur folk could rest, aye wi the Linn straucht fornent them, and if the Clyde was big it was an awesome sicht, I can tell ye. But we haurdly lookit at the Linn. We took the walk that led doun the watter to the mairch ο the Falls grun wi the Stanebyres Wuids. There was a sait there, wi a lang view ο the Linn, and juist aside it, on the mairch itsell, there was a wee wuiden yett whaur the made walk and the airn railins endit, and a nerra fute-pad began, that led through the Stanebyres Wuids to the shore at Carlin. The yett was aye lockit wi a padlock and chain, and we had to sclim ower the fence aside it, and wi aa the barbed wire aboot it was gey fykie, and there was haurdly ane ο us that didna teir something. I tore my guernsey sleeve, and ein at that I was luckie, for my cuisin Bob tore the hin-end gey near aff his breeks, and my cuisin Gret tore her peenie.
There was naething atween the fute-pad and the steep bank whan ye won into the Stanebyres Wuids, and ye had to be carefu no to gang ower near the edge. At ae bit the bank had slippit awa, and taen the pad alang wi it, and ye couldna gang up abune whaur the pad had been for the heich fence at the fute ο a strawberry park, sae ye had to haud on to the fence wires and wark yer wey across wi yer haunds. I was aye gled whan we won bye that bit. Efter that it was plain sailin, and afore lang we were doun aside Carlin. I wantit to licht the fire, but my cuisin Jockie was aulder and he made the rest ο us gether sticks. It wasna fair, whan it was my minnie’s kettle, but I juist had to dae what I was telt. Whan Jockie had gotten aa the sticks he wantit and had the fire weill gaun ablow the kettle he telt me to keep an ee on it while he and Bob fished for beirdies, but I wasna haein ony ο that. Bob was younger nor me by a month or twa, sae I gart him watch the fire. The twa lassies had gane awa to pou flouers to mak into chains for hingin roun their necks, and wadna hae been muckle use wi the fire onywey.
Jockie wadit awa ower into deep watter aside the Carlin Stane, withoot makin a snare for me, and I couldna win at him to ask for help. But efter a while sittin on the bank and tryin ower and ower again I managed in the end to tie a loop in my horse hair, that tichtent whan it was poued, and I wadit oot tae look for beirdies. There was nae dearth ο them. Ye had to keep the sun fornent ye, sae that ye didna cast a shadda, and creep up ahint a big stane till ye could look ower the tap ο it into the watter. Shair eneuch, ablow gey near ilka stane there was a beirdie, wi juist its heid showin, lookin oot wi big roun een and gowpin wi its mou. Ye had to sink the loop ο yer snare into the watter juist fornent its neb, and syne wark the loop back alang its heid withoot touchin its whiskers, till ye kent a pou wad tichten it ahint the craitur’s gills. At first I couldna eir win bye the whiskers, but efter a bit ο practice I catchit ane or twa, and sune atween the pair ο us we had aboot a dizzen beirdies soumin in a wee hole my cuisin Bob had made at the watter’s edge, no faur frae his fire.
Jockie was catchin faur mair nor me, though, and I began to think it was because I hadna wadit faur eneuch oot. I tried to win oot ower aside him, but I cam to a bit that took me ower the knees. Jockie telt me to come oot ο the watter and step frae stane to stane, and I gat up on ane ο the stanes, but it was slippery, and afore I could step doun aff it again I fell flat in the watter.
I didna greit, although I was soakit to the skin, for Jess and Gret wad hae heard me, and Jockie wad hae lauched, but I felt gey miserable, for the watter was cauld, and I kent I wadna be able to fish ony mair till I had dried my claes. Jockie made me a wee pair ο breeks wi twa hankies, and I sat and shivert in them aa through the picnic tea, while my claes lay oot on busses in the sun. Syne I sat and shivert while the ithers played again, and I felt fair green wi envy ilka time I heard a cry frae Bob, and kent he had catchit a beirdie. To mak maitters waur Jess and Gret keepit comin doun to the picnic basket to pit awa things they had fund they wantit to tak hame wi then, and ilka time they saw me they gied a silly giggle. I daursay I did look gey silly, sittin wi naething on bune a pair ο hankie breeks, but they wad hae lookit juist as silly themsells.
But my claes were sune dry eneuch to pit on, and I had gotten into them, and was juist thinkin ο wadin oot and showin Bob hou I could catch beirdies, whan Jockie said it was time to gang hame. I didna want to gang, and argied wi him, and in the end I said I wad catch ae beirdie mair and follow them, for he wadna wait, but whan they had aa gane and left me oot in the Clyde by mysell I felt lanely, and frichtent ο the watter a wee, to tell ye the truith, sae I juist gied in and ran efter them. I couldna fin them, for whan they heard me comin they ran and hid, and I had gotten to the bad bit whaur the pad had slippit awa wi the bank, and had stertit greitin, for I was frichtent to try to win ower it by mysell, whan I heard them lauchin at me frae amang the hazels. I felt gey angert, and no at aa freindly, and I telt mysell it was the last time I wad come to Carlin wi ony ο them, and if they gaed by themsells they could fin their ain kettle.
I wadna let Jockie help me ower the bad bit ο the pad, and managed fine by mysell. That pat me in a better tid, and whan Bob tore his breeks again gaun ower the barbed wire fence at the side ο the wuid-end yett I grew fair joco. I stertit to show aff. I telt them I was gaun to sclim a tree for hazel-nuits. Jockie said they wadna be ripe yet, but I telt them that if ye poued them and took them hame and pat them in a drawer they wad be ripe by Hallowein. He said he didna believe me, but I kent I was richt, and up the tree I gaed, although I gat my knees stung wi nettles on the wey ower to it.
I was up the tree and pouin awa at the nuits whan Jess lat oot a yell, peyntin into the tree. It was a wasp’s byke, she said. I telt her it wasna Hunt-a-Gowk, but she priggit wi me sae hard to come doun at ance that I began to believe her, and whan I saw my cuisin Jockie lookin sleekit and liftin a stane I was shair she was tellin the truith, and that Jockie was gaun to fling the stane and bring the wasps oot at me. I lowpit frae the tree straucht into the bed ο nettles, and gat stung again, aa ower the legs this time, for wi sclimmin the tree my stockins had come doun. I juist had to roar like a bull, my legs were that sair, but Jess fand some docken leaves and brocht them ower to me, and I rubbit them ower the stings for aa I was worth, and eir lang the pain was doun to juist a burnie itch, that I could thole and nae mair. Jockie staned the byke then, and we aa ran for oor lives.
Whan we were weill oot ο the wey ο the wasps and had sat doun at the side ο the Falls walk for a rest, Jockie said he kent whaur there was a foggie-bees’ byke, in the hedge fute atween the Falls hoose and the Linmill road-end. He said that if ye herrit a foggie-bees’ byke ye could lick the kaim, and the hinnie was as guid as Airchie Naismith’s. Hinnie was something no to be missed but hou did ye herry a foggie-bees’ byke? Jockie telt us. Ye poued yer stockins weill ower yer knees, and tied a hankie ower yer face like a mask, and ane ο ye dug into the grun whaur the hole was, while the ithers waved brainches ower his heid to keep the bees aff him. Jockie swore he had dune it afore withoot gettin a single sting.
Whan we cam to the foggie-bees’ byke the lassies wadna bide. They gaed awa on to Linmill. Jockie cut twa brainches frae a hazel wi rowth ο leaves on them, and haundit ane to me. Bob was to dae the diggin wi Jockie’s gullie. I thocht Jockie suld dae the diggin, but he said wavin the brainches was harder wark, and mair important, for ye had to keep them gaun aye juist whaur the bees were thickest, and whan ye were diggin ye haurdly noticed the bees. Bob lookit gey feart, but Jockie caaed him a couard, sae he stertit the diggin, and afore lang the bees were oot and at us like deils. Bob gied a skrech and ran awa, drappin the gullie, and I gey near ran awa mysell, but Jockie liftit the gullie and stertit to dig, and telt me no to stop wavin my hazel or he wad be stung to daith. I waved like a mad ane, and Jockie stuck to his diggin, and though I got stung I juist gied a yelp and keepit on wavin my hazel, for I didna want Jockie stung because I was a couard, and whan he gied a yelp himsell I wad hae waved till doomsday, stings or no, for I kent we were in it thegither. I gat twa mair stings, and waved till I was gey near drappin, and was juist beginin to think the bees had bate us, whan Jockie gied a cry and ran awa up the hedge, wi something in his haund. I ran efter him, still wavin the hazel, till we were baith clear ο the bees. We gaed ower the Clyde road to the hedge at the fute ο the Linmill road-end and sat doun in the gress to tak oor stings oot. Jockie had fower, and to tell ye the truith I felt disappeyntit that he had gotten ane mair nor mysell, I was sae prood ο no haein rin awa; and they were that sair that anither wad hae made little differ. Bob cam ower and stude watchin us helpin ane anither to tak oor stings oot. He hadna been stung at aa. He had juist imagined it. Puir sowl, he was lookin gey smaa.
Whan we had gotten the stings oot, and the pain was easin a wee, Jockie liftit up the kaim he had gotten. It was gey little for aa oor bother, a wee bit thing aboot three inches across. And it was thick wi dirt. We gaed into the Linmill front orchard to the wee waal burn, and tried to wash the dirt aff, and nae dout the wash was a help, though it was still faur frae bonnie whan Jockie took his gullie to it, to divide it in twa. He said Bob wasna to get ony, because he had rin awa. He pat his tongue to his bit ο kaim, and said it was rare. I didna like the look ο my bit, but I didna want to be left oot, sae I had a lick tae. I could feel the dirt, but could taste the hinnie tae, and it was by faur the sweetest taste I eir had kent. We were baith lickin awa and nae dout lookin like kittlins wi cream when my cuisin Bob askit for a taste.
‘Dinna let him smell it,’ said Jockie.
‘I helpit ye get it,’ said Bob.
‘Ye ran awa, ye couard,’ said Jockie.
At that Bob played grab at my kaim and poued a bit oot ο my haund, squashin what was left ο it till it was juist a stickie mess in my fingers. I lickit my fingers and gaed efter him.
‘Bash him,’ said Jockie.
That stertit it. I kent Jockie was on my side, and I was fair mad wi Bob for stealin my kaim, and for lauchin at me whan I fell into the nettles, and for hidin wi the ithers whan they ran awa frae me, and for catchin beirdies whan I was sittin shiverin in my hankie breeks. I gaed for him like a wildcat. He hit me a belt on the nose, wi his haund fou ο kaim, and whan the hinnie stertit to rin I thocht my nose was bluidin, and I wasna gaun to hae that. I lammed him aince in the ee, and aince in the mou, and ance I gat him on the jaw and hurt my knuckles, and I thocht I had him bate. But he landit ane tae, on my mou, and I could feel my teeth gaun into my lip, and tastit my bluid, sae I gaed for him again, mair cannie nou, and lammed him ane richt on the neb. He stertit greitin then, and though Jockie yelled at me to bash him again I thocht it was time to lay aff, for the hoose wasna faur awa, and I was feart my minnie wad be oot lookin for me, wi the twa lassies back at Linmill afore us.
I was richt. Nae suner had we gane back to the burn to wash aff the bluid and hinnie than there was a cry frae the orchard yett. It was my minnie. Jockie and Bob ran awa hame to Linville, and left me alane.
Whan my minnie saw me she raised her haunds in horror, and whan she fand oot we had been fechtin she shook me till my teeth nearly drappit oot ο my heid. I was chased into the hoose and telt to get ready for my bath, and ilka steik I took aff seemed to hae a teir in it, and she raged at me for speylin aa my claes. Syne my grannie cam ben and saw my swollen lip, and whan my stockins were aff they saw the rash in my legs, and whan my semmit was aff my minnie fand it was still wat, and they fand oot that I had tummlet into Clyde. Syne whan my grannie was washin me doun she fand the bee stings, and they had to be telt aboot the herryin ο the foggie-bees’ byke. In the end they kent aa.
I had juist been putten to bed withoot ony supper and my minnie was ragin on aboot my cuisin Jockie and what a deil he was, eggin on twa laddies to fecht, and garrin them help to herry a foggie-bees’ byke, and flingin stanes at a wasps’ byke whan a laddie was up a tree aside it, and hou she wad hae to speak to his mither, and what she wad say, whan his mither chappit at the front door. She had come to tell my minnie what she thocht ο me, hittin a laddie younger nor mysell. I had gien Bob a black ee, she said, and cut his mou, and bled his nose, and I was a fair disgrace, and that was the last time ony ο her bairns wad gang to Carlin wi me, I wasna fit company for them. My grannie tried to haud the bannets atween them, but there was a fair todae, and whan Bob’s mither left she was still gaun on aboot me, till I began to feel a richt deil mysell.
My minnie cam ben to see if I was sleepin. I wasna.
‘Did ye gie Bob a black ee?’
‘Ay.’
‘And bluid his nose?’
‘Ay.’
‘Ay.’
‘Ye haena dune sae badly, son, but he’s younger nor you.’
‘He’s juist as big.’
‘He’s younger, though.’
‘Twa months, juist.’
‘Still, he’s younger, and I dinna like fechtin. Wha stertit it?’
‘He stole my hinnie kaim, and Jockie telt me to bash him.’
‘Ay weill, it mebbe wasna your faut, but dinna dae it again.’
I promised I wadna, but I was dowie aboot no haein onyane nou to tak me doun to Carlin, for I was shair my cuisins wad be keepit clear ο me for the rest of my holiday.
‘Minnie?’
‘What is it?’
‘Will I no be alloued to gang to Carlin again?’
‘No wi yer cuisins, I dout, for a while yet.’
‘I wad like to gang to Carlin again.’
‘Dae ye like gaun to Carlin?’
‘Ay.’
And I telt her hou ye snared beirdies wi a horse’s hair.
‘Ay, weill,’ she said, ‘I’ll speak to yer daddie whan he comes on Setterday. Mebbe we could gang doun there oorsells and hae a picnic, juist the three ο us. Hou wad ye like that?’
‘Will ye ask my grandfaither to get some horse’s hairs?’
‘Ay, ay, dinna fash. Is there still moss on the Carlin Stane, wi harebells growin in it?’
‘Ay.’
‘That’s aboot aa I mind ο it, though I used to gang there aften mysell whan I was a lassie. Nou gang to sleep, if ye can. Yer stings’ll be better in the mornin.’
I didna gang to sleep for hours, thinkin ο aa that had happened. It had been sic an unco day that I didna want to forget a meenit ο it.