Christie, across the table, brings down one fist– clump . Taking care with the other hand to hold onto the grey bottle-jug which once long ago used to hold vinegar.
“Now, then, girl, would you like me to tell you about what happened to Piper Gunn and them, when that ship landed up north there?”
Morag closes the geography. Grinning.
“Sure, Christie.”
“Well, now, then, I read it all in a book somewheres, so help me, and it is all there in the books, but you don’t want to believe everything them books say, for the good christ’s sake. We believe what we know.”
What’s he talking about? But she likes this story. He pours another glassful.
CHRISTIE’S TALE OF PIPER GUNN AND THE LONG MARCH
Now that bloody ship, there, who would know what its name was, but with all of them from Sutherland on board, and struck with the sickness and the fever and the devil’s plague, well, then, that ship with the children dying of the fever, it crossed the ocean, do you see, and it came to the new land, which was HERE , only very far north. But what happened? What almighty catastrophe struck that ship? Well, the first catastrophe was that ship had a bloody idiot as captain, then. And he landed the christly vessel, if you’ll believe it, away up north there, at the wrong place . The wrong place. Can you feature it? Them people, see, Piper Gunn and his woman Morag and all them, were supposed to be landed at the one place, up there by Hudson Bay (that’s the water, the sea, like, not the store). But the silly bugger landed his ship at another place. Oh yes. The bloody captain didn’t give a hoot. Get landed and well rid of them–that was his thought. So he landed all of them at the wrong place, now, the name escapes me at this moment, but it was on the Hudson Bay, up there. Cold as all the shithouses of hell.
Well, then, there they were. So Piper Gunn, he takes up his morsels of belongs, his kettle and his plaid and his axe, and he says to his woman Morag, Here we are and by the holy Jesus here we will remain. And then didn’t his woman strap onto her back the few blankets and suchlike they had, and her thick with their unborn firstborn, and follow. But one thing was missing.
Pipes. The pipes.
If we must live here in this almighty godforsaken land, dreadful with all manner of beasts and ice and the rocks harsher than them we left , says Gunn’s woman, at least let’s be piped onto it.
So Piper Gunn, he got out his bagpipes and he piped the people onto the new land, that terrible bad land, frozen as itsure as hell was, and they built their mud shacks to the music that man played.
Now they lived there and they suffered and then they suffered more, through the long days and longer nights, and it seemed there was no end to their suffering. But they didn’t give in. They hunted for meat, to live.
(What did they hunt, Christie?)
Oh, polar bears that looked like great moving snow-banks with jaws and claws, then, and great wild foxes with burning eyes in them, and
(Did they eat foxes , Christie?)
Well, maybe not the foxes. They would use them for the fur, see? But they ate all manner of strange things, and it was a time of misery, but they stayed because they had the heart in them. And in the spring they walked. Yes, they walked to the place where the supplies would be. It was a long long long way. It could’ve been maybe a thousand or so miles, then.
(They walked? A thousand miles? They couldn’t, Christie.)
Well, it might not have been quite the thousand, but it was a christly long way. And through the snow and muck and that. And who led them? I ask you, who led them? Who led the men and women and the children on that march? Piper Gunn. Himself. He led them with his pipes blaring, there. He was a man six feet nine inches tall, a mighty man of God. And he played the pipes like an angel right out of heaven and then like a devil right out of hell, and he kept the courage of the people beating like drums, or like
“Now, then, girl, would you like me to tell you about what happened to Piper Gunn and them, when that ship landed up north there?”
Morag closes the geography. Grinning.
“Sure, Christie.”
“Well, now, then, I read it all in a book somewheres, so help me, and it is all there in the books, but you don’t want to believe everything them books say, for the good christ’s sake. We believe what we know.”
What’s he talking about? But she likes this story. He pours another glassful.
CHRISTIE’S TALE OF PIPER GUNN AND THE LONG MARCH
Now that bloody ship, there, who would know what its name was, but with all of them from Sutherland on board, and struck with the sickness and the fever and the devil’s plague, well, then, that ship with the children dying of the fever, it crossed the ocean, do you see, and it came to the new land, which was HERE , only very far north. But what happened? What almighty catastrophe struck that ship? Well, the first catastrophe was that ship had a bloody idiot as captain, then. And he landed the christly vessel, if you’ll believe it, away up north there, at the wrong place . The wrong place. Can you feature it? Them people, see, Piper Gunn and his woman Morag and all them, were supposed to be landed at the one place, up there by Hudson Bay (that’s the water, the sea, like, not the store). But the silly bugger landed his ship at another place. Oh yes. The bloody captain didn’t give a hoot. Get landed and well rid of them–that was his thought. So he landed all of them at the wrong place, now, the name escapes me at this moment, but it was on the Hudson Bay, up there. Cold as all the shithouses of hell.
Well, then, there they were. So Piper Gunn, he takes up his morsels of belongs, his kettle and his plaid and his axe, and he says to his woman Morag, Here we are and by the holy Jesus here we will remain. And then didn’t his woman strap onto her back the few blankets and suchlike they had, and her thick with their unborn firstborn, and follow. But one thing was missing.
Pipes. The pipes.
If we must live here in this almighty godforsaken land, dreadful with all manner of beasts and ice and the rocks harsher than them we left , says Gunn’s woman, at least let’s be piped onto it.
So Piper Gunn, he got out his bagpipes and he piped the people onto the new land, that terrible bad land, frozen as itsure as hell was, and they built their mud shacks to the music that man played.
Now they lived there and they suffered and then they suffered more, through the long days and longer nights, and it seemed there was no end to their suffering. But they didn’t give in. They hunted for meat, to live.
(What did they hunt, Christie?)
Oh, polar bears that looked like great moving snow-banks with jaws and claws, then, and great wild foxes with burning eyes in them, and
(Did they eat foxes , Christie?)
Well, maybe not the foxes. They would use them for the fur, see? But they ate all manner of strange things, and it was a time of misery, but they stayed because they had the heart in them. And in the spring they walked. Yes, they walked to the place where the supplies would be. It was a long long long way. It could’ve been maybe a thousand or so miles, then.
(They walked? A thousand miles? They couldn’t, Christie.)
Well, it might not have been quite the thousand, but it was a christly long way. And through the snow and muck and that. And who led them? I ask you, who led them? Who led the men and women and the children on that march? Piper Gunn. Himself. He led them with his pipes blaring, there. He was a man six feet nine inches tall, a mighty man of God. And he played the pipes like an angel right out of heaven and then like a devil right out of hell, and he kept the courage of the people beating like drums, or like
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