THE KELPIE SPIRITS

Loch Coruisk at the heart of the Cuillins is a magnificent freshwater loch and is said to be the home of the Kelpies. This idea of water spirits being familiar creatures in an isolated loch located in wild Scotland held a strong fascination and lured me into a path of discovery.

I booked into the Sligachan hotel well before the onslaught of the virus when all the world was wholesome and pandemics were reminiscent of a long-forgotten past. It is a beautiful old hotel with welcoming comforts that make a holiday such a pleasurable experience.

On arrival, I indulged in an early supper of Cullen skink and added to this a bacon cheddar burger with chips. This was washed down with a pint of Cuillan Brewery Pale Ale. Sitting in Seumas’ Bar I experienced a happy sensation of well-being and was disposed to engage in conversation with any willing recipient.

 “My dear, it’s all true,” I heard an elderly lady assert at a small table close by. The young woman, who was her travelling companion, shook her head in disbelief.

“Just fairy stories Mrs Bouchard! Delightful, but all folklore, which I suppose we will encounter everywhere in Scotland.”

 “No, no, you don’t understand. Strange and unexplained events have transpired. Unfamiliar creatures materialised in remote areas and definite sitings of kelpies have been reported.”

 I picked up my wee dram and moved to Mrs Bouchard’s table. “Do you mind if I join you? I’m extremely interested in the legend of the kelpies and have purposefully made the journey to investigate and explore.”

Mrs Bouchard smiled warmly, although her companion viewed me with a measure of disfavour.

“You’re most welcome! I am Anastasia Bouchard and this is my travelling companion, Greta James. We are indulging in a wonderful adventure in the Highlands with all its legendary heritage. I sometimes believe that most of these legends are true.”

I introduced myself and sat down with great enthusiasm while the next hour passed in animated discussion.

“You must know that kelpies have great strength and appeal. Some say that their strong desire for human companionship gives them an innate ability to touch frail emotions and draw vulnerable souls into a liaison.” This was a new concept on my understanding of the water creatures and I waited in anticipation for further details.

 Greta was not in the least sympathetic to the course our conversation had taken and within a short time she had excused herself and departed to more engaging pursuits, but I was fascinated with Anastasia’s vast knowledge of local folklore and listened spellbound to her ideas of legendary figures shifting into tangible and bodily forms.

Some time elapsed before the bartender called round to our table and politely informed us it was closing time, at which we reluctantly bade each other good night and returned to our rooms.

It was impossible to sleep! I had been transfigured into another dimension where fairy folk of vastly different attributes crowded for my attention. The bedroom curtains had not been drawn and I sat at the window in the darkness gazing in rapture at the majestic Cuillans. A brilliant moon shone high in the heavens and the landscape was brightened with soft luminescence. A scenic grandeur of moonlit wonder unfolded before my slowly closing eyes and I felt a warm bed calling to dream away the wonders of legendary tales. And then I saw him! Proud, beautiful, standing strong and compelling on the banks of the river!

It’s a kelpie I mused! 

Too much imagination –

Time for bed –

But no harm in investigating!

 I stole out of the hotel and, unbelievably, he was there. Was this a self-indulgent dream or was I confronting one of the famous water spirits? I walked a little fearfully towards the powerful creature and he whinnied softly. How gracious, how beautiful. He turned and trotted towards the swiftly flowing river. I was strangely drawn and had no option but to follow. There we stood side by side as the river spilled away in the silver moonlight. The giant horse towered above me but I felt no fear, only a deep and profound companionship. After a pleasurable but strangely brief interlude, the kelpie gave a parting whinny and galloped off.

Deep loneliness overwhelmed me and I was consumed with a strange sense of yearning. Wearily I returned to the room.

There was no sleep for the remainder of the night; too many images, fantastical in nature, enthralled me with their spirit enchantment. I was conscious of a curious magnetism luring me into a strange path of action. In the early hours of the morning

I packed my bags, straightened the bedclothes and left my case and handbag with all the travel documents safely stored in the corner. Clutching the car keys I quickly made my way to the hired vehicle in its parking bay. With a sense of wonderful elation, I drove to Loch Coruisk.

The dawn was streaking silver rays of sunlight into the morning sky. In no time at all, I had parked the car and deposited the keys under the mat. Strange that at this time there was still a sense of order in my once methodical life.   

There he was, waiting for me! Blessed kelpie, you knew I would come – you called me. I flung my arms around his neck and he nuzzled me softly. With extraordinary ease, I mounted his great back. With a lively whinny of triumph, he reared on to his hind legs and I held fast to his neck.

 I didn’t fall off – I couldn’t. My legs were deeply locked into his strong and beautiful sides.

I experienced a wonderful feeling of excitement and a firm conviction that everything was in place.

I didn’t want to dismount –

 I didn’t need to dismount –

 I knew where I was going.

THE KELPIES

The kelpies like to live in lochs

Or swiftly moving streams

And though they look quite innocent

They’re bent on wicked schemes.

The kelpies change their shape at will

It is their fiendish course.

At times a human shape is used

At other times a horse.

They frolic in the waterfalls

They plunge into the deep

They tumble in the rushing stream

They never ever sleep.

Be warned the kelpie is no friend

He’ll harm you if he can

He’ll tempt you first to ride on him

It is his wicked plan.

Then when you climb upon his back

And feel secure and strong

He’ll plunge into the nearest loch

And then it all goes wrong.

He’s caught you fast, you cannot move,

It’s part of his attack

For where he takes his prisoners

They’re never coming back.

So, mind this tale and mind it well

All kelpies are distressing.

Do not be lured by what you see

Or think they need caressing.

In daylight he might sometimes seem

A gentle water sprite

But if he should encourage you

Then quickly take to flight.

Jacky Parker