AN UNSETTLING ENCOUNTER ON THE SUMMIT OF BEN VORLICH

THE sun was beginning its languid farewell to the day as Duncan McNab approached the summit of Ben Vorlich.

A lovely summer evening, a late decision to head up this sprawling mountain above Ardlui in search of a few hours' serenity after a long day at work.

There are three summits along the crest, the centre one being the highest. The cairn is perched on an outcrop which provides a view all the way down to Loch Sloy. From the trig point at the South Top, this rocky prominence has the features of a craggy human face.

So far, Duncan hadn't seen another soul. But after arriving at the main cairn, he noticed a figure tucked down among the rocks about 12 feet away. He called out a greeting, but got no response.

"I could make out it was a man, but he was small, less than five feet tall. He was wearing what could best be described as a dufflecoat. The hood was up, but it looked odd. It seemed to come to a curving point.

"He paid no attention to me, didn't once look up or acknowledge my presence in any way. He held what appeared to be a cardboard tube, and seemed fascinated by it, staring into it, shaking it and twirling it over and over in his hands.

"His continued lack of response leaving me a little spooked, and I started to feel a bit uncomfortable. The hairs on my neck were standing on end, and I decided to head off. I kept looking round as I walked away but there was no movement. I never saw any sign of him again."

As he descended the ridge with the setting sun behind, Duncan was confronted by a Brocken Spectre, that haunting figure caused by your shadow being magnified amid the cloud. Most mountaineers are delighted to see this, but for Duncan it just added to the already eerie atmosphere. He was relieved to get down safely in the dark without further incident.

He had spent many days wandering the hills of the Pentlands and Perthshire but had never experienced anything like this before nor since. His father was a hill shepherd and Duncan had grown up on and around farms, so he had no reason to feel uncomfortable in wild terrain.

Duncan is also an accomplished musician and is weel kent on the Scottish folk scene. He has been writing and performing farm and bothy ballads and poems since he was a teenager, and has played at Celtic Connections.

No surprise then, that he has used his Ben Vorlich experience as the inspiration for a song. He added other elements of Scottish folklore to come up with The Heathery Knowes O' Auchnafree, namely references to the raven as a harbinger of doom. Duncan said: "A Gaelic-speaking friend on Skye believes that if a raven looks in your window, it's a sign that death is near. It seemed an appropriate link to my Ben Vorlich experience."

The raven's links with death and the supernatural is common in many cultures. It is often regarded as a shape-shifter, and its appearance at battlefields to pick over the bones of the fallen inspired feelings of awe and terror amongst the living.

Those intending climbing Fionn Bheinn, the Munro above Achnasheen, should be aware of the so-far unfilled prophecy of Kenneth McKenzie, the Brahan Seer, that "the day will come when a raven, attired in paid and bonnet, will drink his fill of human blood on Fionn Bheinn three times a day, for three successive days". You have been warned.

The Heathery Knowes O' Auchnafree

A shepherd lad set oot yin evening

His ain sweetheart all for tae see

And the path he took, it took him oot

O'er the heathery knowes o' Auchnafree

But the light that shone frae the setting sun

It glint sae bright in a raven's ee

He was perched high up, on an auld peat hag

On the heathery knowes o' Auchnafree

And the raven watched the shepherd lad

As he cam scramblin' o'er the knowe

Wi' his plaidie hingin' loose around his shou'ders

And the sweat running free frae aff his brow

"Aw turn yer heid ye croakin' hoodie

Aw turn yer gaze awa frae me

For I've a sweetheart, who's waitin' for me

O'er the heathery knowes o' Auchnafree"

Then o'er the riggin' there cam a beggar

An auld fesh't beggar wi eyes o' green

And in his hand was the finest fiddle

That the shepherd lad had ever seen

"Oh Beggar! Beggar! Tak up yer fiddle

And play a tune of love tae me

As I gang aff tae see my sweetheart

O'er the heathery knowes o' Auchnafree"

"I'll play nae tune for a love-sick shepherd

Tho' mony's the tune of love I know

For although my fiddle it is the finest

This very nicht I've broke my bow"

"But turn aroon ye love sick shepherd

And the brocken-spectre ye will see

As the sun and mist dance aroon yer shadow

On the heathery knowes o' Auchnafree"

The shepherd turned to the brocken-spectre

That summer's night up on Auchnafree

But the shadow o' a beggar's knife

Was the last thing that he e'r did see

The summer soon gave way tae autumn

Then came the snaws sae cauld and white

And the raven ruffled up his auld black feathers

Against the winter's bitter bite

But when the spring came and the snaws had melt'd

O'er the knowes the raven's flown

And he's carried tae the auld fesh't beggar

A shepherd's white and weathered bone

The beggar sat doon amongst the heather

And frae this bone he's carved a bow

And wi' the raven perched upon his sho'der

Around them baith the wind did blow

Then the beggar he's tain up his fiddle

All in the blink o' a raven's ee

And he played a lament for a love-sick shepherd

Ca'd "The Heathery Knowes O' Auchnafree"

He plays his fiddle as he walks the knowes

He plays in sun and mist and rain

With the raven flying close a'hint him

Should 'er he break his bow again.

You can find more of Duncan's music and poetry at https://www.duncanmcnab.scot