The Raven’s Stone (2)
				              
    I’m continuing with the story 
    The Raven’s Stone which is based in
    
        Badenoch. Iain Bàn (Fair John) from Balnacraig and Helen Mackintosh
        from Dunachton were meeting each other often near the River Spey. John
        was crossing the river at a ford.
    
    
        One day, John met a blacksmith – one ‘Duncan of the Two Thumbs’. John
        knew that Duncan had just been in Dunachton. ‘Did you hear anything of
        Helen?’ he asked.
    
     ‘Yes,’ said Duncan. ‘She is a prisoner in her own room.’
     ‘That’s bad,’ said John. ‘Will you give her a letter from me?’
    
        ‘Be quiet,’ said Duncan. ‘That would be dangerous. Her ghillie lost his
        head yesterday for keeping the meetings between you and Helen a secret
        from the Lady.’
    
    
        Despite the danger, however, the smith agreed to take the letter to
        Helen. He took it with him the next time he went to Dunachton. But
        Duncan didn’t return home. Day after day, John was awaiting news from
        him.
    
    
        John’s father took his son to one side, and he said to him, ‘There
        would be a solution if you had the Raven’s Stone.’
    
     ‘What is the Raven’s Stone?’ asked John.
    
        ‘Your grandfather told me about it. You take eggs from a raven’s nest.
        You boil them and return them to the nest. The raven will know that the
        eggs are damaged. It will leave. But, on the third day, it will return
        with a small stone in its beak. He will rub the stone on the eggs. The
        eggs will become fertile and alive once more. If a man has been
        watching this, and if he should get hold of the stone, he will be able
        to make himself invisible.’
    
     ‘How?’ asked John.
    
        ‘If he puts the stone in his mouth, he will be invisible,’ said his
        father. ‘To be visible once more, he will put the stone in his pocket.’
    
    
        ‘That’s amazing,’ said John. ‘I could go to Dunachton and be
        invisible.’
    
     ‘Exactly,’ said his father. ‘Now, we must find a raven’s nest.’
				             
				            
				              Clach an Fhithich (2)
				              
    Tha mi a’ leantainn leis an sgeulachd Clach an Fhithich, a tha
    stèidhichte ann am Bàideanach. Bha Iain Bàn à Baile na Creige agus Eilidh
    Nic an Tòisich à Dun Neachdain a’ coinneachadh ri chèile gu tric faisg air
    Uisge Spè. Bha Iain a dhol tarsainn na h-aibhne aig àth.
    Latha a bha seo, choinnich Iain ri gobha – fear ‘Donnchadh na Dà Òrdaig’.
    Bha fios aig Iain gun robh Donnchadh dìreach air a bhith ann an Dùn
    Neachdain. ‘An cuala tu dad air Eilidh?’ dh’fhaighnich e.
    ‘Chuala,’ arsa Donnchadh. ‘Tha i na prìosanach na seòmar fhèin.’
    ‘Tha sin duilich,’ thuirt Iain. ‘An toir thu litir dhi bhuam?’
    ‘Ist,’ arsa Donnchadh. ‘Bhiodh sin cunnartach. Chaill an gille-frithealaidh
    aice a cheann an-dè airson na coinneamhan eadar thu fhèin is Eilidh a
    chumail dìomhair bhon Bhean-uasal.’
    A dh’aindeoin a’ chunnairt, ge-tà, dh’aontaich an gobha litir a thoirt do
    dh’Eilidh. Thug e leis i an ath thuras a chaidh e a Dhùn Neachdain. Ach cha
    do thill Donnchadh dhachaigh. Latha an dèidh latha, bha Iain a’ feitheamh
    fios bhuaithe.
    Thug athair Iain an gille aige gu aon taobh, agus thuirt e ris, ‘Bhiodh
    fuasgladh ann nam biodh Clach an Fhithich agad.’
    ‘Dè th’ ann an Clach an Fhithich?’ dh’fhaighnich Iain.
    ‘Dh’inns do sheanair dhomh mu a deidhinn. Bidh thu a’ toirt uighean à nead
    fithich. Bidh thu gan goil agus gan cur air ais san nead. Bidh fios aig an
    fhitheach gu bheil na h-uighean millte. Teichidh e. Ach, air an treas
    latha, tillidh e, le clach bheag na ghob. Bidh e a’ suathadh na cloiche ris
    na h-uighean. Bidh na h-uighean a’ tighinn torach is beò a-rithist. Ma tha
    duine air a bhith a’ coimhead seo, agus ma gheibh e grèim air a’ chloich,
    bidh comas aige a dhèanamh fhèin do-fhaicsinneach.’
    ‘Ciamar?’ dh’fhaighnich Iain.
    ‘Ma chuireas e a’ chlach na bheul, bidh e do-fhaicsinneach,’ thuirt athair.
    ‘Airson a bhith faicsinneach a-rithist, cuiridh e a’ chlach na phòcaid.’
    ‘Tha sin iongantach,’ thuirt Iain. ‘Dh’fhaodainn a dhol a Dhùn Neachdain,
    agus mi do-fhaicsinneach.’
    ‘Dìreach,’ thuirt athair. ‘Nise, feumaidh sinn nead fithich a lorg.’