Dwarfie

A fairy story inspired by the Dwarfie Stane in Orkney in Scotland and concerned with mankinds effect on the earth.

Dwarfie

 

A braw night fur dwarfies! There’s a guid breeze blowing up the glen from Rackwick. Midges are nae much fun when you’re butt naked but most folk dinna ken midges are oor fellow creatures - after all we’re a’ part o’ oor great mither earth! The evening sun is having a last keek oe’r the hill and soon the crag above will grow dark! I’m down on my wee cuddie-hunkers on a ledge at the foot of the crags looking doon the glen to the Quoys and oe’r the wee isle o’ Graemsay to the mainland. I’m nae fashed about being seen up here because I blend in wherever I sit - my wee legs and arms, skinny scrawny body and muckle heid can shift in the blink of an ee to look just like rock or heather.   Look - there’s the evening boat just leavin’ the pier tak’in the last of the days visitors back to Stromness. Hud oan the noo - dinnae you think I’m daft talking tae masel’ up here -  it’s near three hunner years I’ve been sittin’ up here an’ I have tae spiel tae someone - even if it is masel!

 

Just doon the slope is my wee bit hoosie waiting for me to lay doon my heid for the night. I ken folk call it the dwarfie stane but there’s no-one living now kens the real story o’ dwarfies and men.

 

The first humans came back tae this wee scatter o’ islands, now ca’ed by men the Orkneys, many years after the great ice melted, the land became fertile again and the herds o’ beasties returned.

It might surprise ye tae ken that the dwarfie folk were already biding here long before the men came back. But we’re no like humans that hae an earthly span. Its awfie hard to explain but dwarfies are like the lugs and een o’ the great mither earth gied earthly form. It’s hard to believe now but for maist o’ time we lived cheek by jowl wi’ the human folk. They even built us these stane shelters like Maes Howe and my ane wee Dwarfie stane whaur we could lay oor heids doon and hae oor dwarfie cooncils. 

 

Oor troubles started when humans found the power of speech. They didnae ken that words were a barrier between themselves and the earth spirit that they had aye been a part o. Wi the power o speech it didnae tak long for men tae presume that they were maisters of a they surveyed. As they grew in knowledge the mair glaiket they became.  Noo they’re a sittin on the cairt clatterin doon the brae wi nae way o stopping it and no way o getting aff - and there’s a bloody big stane waiting at the bottom o’ the brae! Whits even mair stupid is that nearly all o them are enjoying the ride and wanting tae go faster!

 

That’s whaur we come in  - we are the mither earth’s lug-whisperers. Oor job is tae nosy aboot and try tae discover humans wi some idea o whit’s gang aft agley.  If we can nudge enough o them in the right direction wi’ oor dream-whisperin maybe we can gie the cartie a wee dunt afore it hits the muckle stane.

 

Tae bring us back to the present. I’ve been keeping my ee on that muckle loon that bides down in the bay at the foot o the glen. Big Jock he’s ca’ed. He’s no frae Hoy but has bided here a guid thirty years. Big Jock has spent maist o his life fighting against the mess men are making o things. Last full moon we had a dwarfie cooncil and we decided that a Jock’s needing is a wee lug-whisper tae nudge him back intae action. That’s whaur I come in  - Jocks on my beat so I’m awa doon the nicht.

 

Its the nicht now, the full moon is shining through the open curtain and I’m sitting on big Jocks bed blending in wi the bedcover!  It’s hard tae even think wi a the snoring but I’ve had a wee whisper in his lug. It’s mair aboot planting seed in fertile ground than anything o’er crude.

 

When big Jock woke in the morning he still had lingering snatches of a disturbing dream. An ugly wee runt o’ a dwarf  had appeared at his door and beckoned him to follow. Outside he took Jock’s hand and in the blink of an ee they were eagle high above the hill ahent the hoose. Jock could feel the breeze in his face and as he looked around, his eye could see into every nook and cranny of the island. He could see that every house was burnt or in ruins, the fields uncultivated and the livestock dead in the fields. Of the people, there was no sign.

 

The dream faded but that day Jock felt more unsettled than he had for mony a lang day. All day he was unable to concentrate and by the time the evening came Jock realised he had achieved nothing in spite of having a whole list of things that needed doing. Most were the usual day to day chores but he also had been mulling over a few projects that he just couldn’t seem to get started with.

 

The next night the wee dwarfie was back for more lug whispering. This time he led oot Jock once again but this time the dwarfie took Jock’s hand and together they flew up tae the maist muckle hill in the land. Looking doon they could see every corner of the land but this time where’er he looked people were living in harmony wi’ the mither earth.

‘Weel Jock - will we be having an earth laid waste or will we tak our place as part o' oor mither earth. Of course ye ken that we will a have tae pull in the same direction and we will need folk tae show us the way.”

 

In the morning when Jock awoke the dream again felt fresh in his mind and again he had met the dwarfie. Although the details soon faded again Jock was left feeling more positive about the future than for mony a year. Of course the first big challenge was the referendum and there wasn’t long to go. Then we will be in control of our own destiny!  Making a decision Jock picked up the phone. As he held it he happened to look out of the window and spotted the dwarfie stone up the glen. Something flickered in his brain and then he started to dial.

 

Mony years later -

Once again I’m back on my wee dwarfie ledge above my Dwarfie stane looking doon the glen to the bay and the wee white house. Things have changed for the better o’er the years. There’s mair land in cultivation and there are fish in plenty. The guid thing is that noo the human folk ken just tae tak’ their due portion and live in harmony wi’ their mither earth.

 

Oh - there’s one last thing ye that might interested tae ken - I used tae bide in that wee white house doon there masel and I was once kent as big Jock. When I was finally aboot tae pass awa the dwarfie council picked me to join them as a lug-whisperer for oor mither earth.  Now, who would hae guessed that I would finally end up biding up the brae in the dwarfie stane and taking my ane turn of lug-whispering.         

Alan Graham

Glossary

Braw- fine     Guid- good    Nae-not   Ken- know

Keek-look    Cuddie-hunkers- to squat on your heels

Fashed-worried     Muckle-big    ee-eye

hud oan-hold on     spiel- talk       wee-small

hoosie- house     heid-head      beasties-animals

hae-have       ane-own       aye-always

a-all        mair-more       glaiket-stupid

cairt-cart      brae-hill        lug-ear   

gang aft agley-gone wrong    dunt-bump

loon-lad        whaur-where      doon-down

ahent-behind    maist-most

 

 

Reviews

[Kathy Van Kurin]

'Dwarfie'
alanwgraham,
I really appreciated the glossary. Iv'e read some stories with a Scottish tinge but this was a new one for me. It was nice to understand what was being said. You did a good thing there. Your message is one of work with what we have and preserve and cherish. this planet is ours to cherish and preserve. I suppose that this story could be either Irish or Scottish as I have read similar in both. You are an amazing story teller and very imaginative.
Kathy

[alanwgraham]

Thanks Kathy for your kind review.. This story is quite dear to me and inspired by meeting an old friend who i hadn't met for nearly 40 years (and a great writer). My wife and cycled past the dwarfie stane on Orkney and the two events triggered something. Thanks for searching out and reading this.
Best wishes to you.
Alan

[Kathy Van Kurin]

It is inspiring to hear your story. Your life is material to share...so glad you did too! Bless you dear writer friend.
Kathy.

[Woody]

this one's different but I liked it very much. the dialect you chose catapulted me back to the early 80's. I spent an exceptional year in Aberdeen. I had the time of my life. the old folk talked very much like this.
and the story was captivating.

[alanwgraham]

Thanks Woody. I'm glad you enjoyed it. I too spent an enjoyable year in Aberdeen. The story was inspired by a visit to the dwarfie stone on the Isle of Hoy and a chance meeting with an old teaching friend and brilliant writer.
Thanks,
Alan

[Jocelyn_wonders]

This is a unique piece. Your command of the dialect is fantastic. As a speaker and reader of plain Canadian English, I found it difficult to read, but I'm sure those who 'ken' this dialect love to read it.

[ANTO]

I liked this. It had that Darby O Gill quality where a loveable rogue is called to be with the little people.
I liked the use of the vernacular (as an avid Irvine Welsh fan it was music to my ears) though I think you got a bit way-laid as to when it was to be used or not.
The overall story is delightful and shows how much we Celts have 'blarney' in our blood.
Nice One.