The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1885-04-04
THE HAUNTED BRIDGE.
Superstition In the Highlands of
Scotland.


There are probably few readers who
are not familiar, to greater or lesser
extent, with the well-ventilated subject
of superstition in the Highlands of Scot
land. There are few mountain coun-
tries throughout the world that are not
rich in lore and legend relating to the
supernatural; their very confguration
suggests that agencies more than ordi-
nary have been employed in shaping
out their features. 1t is curious to notice
how very largely the demoniac theory
enters into the calculations of the peas
antry. For one fairy glen or knowe
there are dozen devils mills, bridges,
caldrons or punch-bowls; in fact, it is
almost always the beings that are sup
posed to be baleful and inimical to the
human race that have had their person.
atty perpetuated in these legends. This
certainly seems little incongruous;
but as this is not treatise on demon
ology, we are content to leave it so.
Superstition is part of the being of
the mountaineer. Brave even to rash
ness, he will face the natural dangers
that beset his life-in the torrent, on the
peak, or in the forest; he fears no odds
when he meets his foes. And vet this
man, who can tread the dizzy lodges on
the face OF precipice, who can hurl
himself on leveled steel, is more timid
and frightened than a child when he
conceives that forces other than earthly
are being brought to bear on him. 1t is
partly to the style and manner of his
life that he owes all this. He is brought
more into the presence of nature than
his neighbor of the plains; he becomes
imbued with the spirit of his surround
ings; the deep dark gloom of the woods,
the lonesomeness of the mountain soil
tudes, the voices of the storm and of
the torrent, and of their reproduction in
the echoes, appeal to him; and poet
ical imagination begotten of such an
existence finishes the process. Thus.
the roar of waterfall in its dark chasm
becomes to him the howlings of some
demon prisoned among the rocks; the
signing of the winds through the forest
trees is caused by the passage of spirits;
the mists that furl around the noun
tain peaks and are waited so silently
across crest and corrie are disembodied
ghosts, and the sounds that break the
stiffness of the night are the shrieks
and yells of fiends and their victims.
This brings me to my story. fancy
that most of my readers are acquainted
more or less with the scenery of the
Highlands; but in the case of by far the
larger number of them venture to saw
that such acquaintance extends only to
the Highlands in their summer or their
autumn dress. If SO, they only half
know them. Brave is the tourist who
ventures amid the bens and glens when
rude King Boreas lords it over them;
when winters wind roars adown the
gorges of the Hill, staggering the stall
wart pines, mingling the withered
leaves and the snow-flakes in the desc
late woods. When icicles hang from
the hoary rocks, and the deep drift
chokes up the ravines, mantles the
slopes of the corries and bends in cor
nices over the threatening cliffs; when
the river roars through the plain
brown and swollen-and its parent tor
rents are leaping and raving among the
powders; when the mountain hare and
the ptarmigan are white as the snow
that harbors them, and the deer, driven
from the hills by stress of weather,
roam in herds through the low-lying
woods; and the mountain fox leaves his
cairn and prowls around the farm and
the sheepfold-tten, if you would enter
into the spirit of loneliness and solitude,
take your way to the Highlands. Do
not imagine, however, that such is their
condition during the whole of winter;
on the contrary, / have painted
a particularly black picture, and it was
IN very much better weather that, two
or three years ago, went north in De-
cember, on q visit to some friends in In
verness-shire. The particular part of
the county stayed in does not mate
rally affect my adventure, so l shall
not disclose it
My time sped by very pleasantly, al
though the district did not afford many
neighbors at short distances; but this
was circumstance that always pro-
cured me an extra hearty welcome
when / ventured far enough from home
to call upon any people. On one of
these expeditions / had ridden to a
house about eight miles away, and the
late hour of my arrival brought about
an invitation to stay for dinner and
spend the evening. My friends pushed
their hospitality to such an extent that
they had almost prevailed upon me to
stay the night as well, when a good
natured challenge changed my waver-
ing plans into firm determination to
be of. Our conversation after dinner
had not unnaturally turned upon ghost
stories, as the district was an out of
the way one, and the country folk were
fully persuaded of the existence of KEEL
pies and warlocks of various kinds.
What now happened was that some of
the young people fancied they had
found the reason why I was willing to