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SPORTING SHOOTER -AUG

I do not think that I have introduced you to Dougal - the Sage of Glen Bhollach (pronounced ‘Vollock’). Dougal is a retired Stalker and now hobbles about the Glen (he has the ‘twingeing screws’) with his old dog Moss and makes a general bloody nuisance of himself. One day I will tell you the story of Dougal and Mary’s washing line. Dougal came to fame (in the Invermuchty Argus, anyway) when he had a very large Teutonic rifle out on the hill and the unfortunate man was struck down by what I believe the Argus described as a ‘Cardiac Infarction’. Dougal was indignant about this – “The puir man wasnae farcting” he said – “he just dropped doon deid.”

“Did you have a problem getting him off the hill?” asked the young reporter from the Argus

“Och no! He wash an eashy drag.”

Dougal took a great interest in all that happened on his patch and when a young English couple bought the old tumbledown croft up the Glen and started doing it up, Dougal appointed himself, adviser, Clerk of the works and general damned busybody. It was a rare summer’s day in Glen Bhollach and when I say ‘rare’ I mean that it was not raining and there were no midges – is it not passing strange that the Scottish tourist board never mentions the West Highland midge amongst its attractions? The young couple were working on their croft. The He’un was up working on the rooftree, whilst the She’un was taking advantage of the sun to develop an all over tan. From his elevated position the young man was strategically placed to keep an ‘obo’ on the track up the glen, so he had early warning of the approach of Dougal hirpling up the road with Old Moss at his heels:

“Watch out Shirl – Dougal alert – you better put something on.” Our Shirl was determined not to shift from her place in the sun and, having no clothing about, she reached out and found a spare roofing tile which she used to cover her ‘pudenda mulieris’ or, if you prefer the Gaelic, her ‘pish fhluic’, and continued with her sun bathing. Now if you are about to ask about her top half – well, shame on you, you nosey bugger and I would remind you of the old Gaelic saying:

“Is minic a bhris beal duine a shorn” there should be a couple of accents in there, but my computer does not do accents. Now I suppose you want the English? Oh well, all right:

“It’s often a fella’s mouth broke his nose.” Near enough, anyway. And, anyway, how would you balance a tile on… well, them things (she was a big girl).

It was not long before Old Dougal was leaning on the gate, puffing his old pipe and taking in the scene. At last he spoke:

“Well now, it’s wonderful the things they think of these days.”

“How do you mean?” said the He’un from the roof ridge.

“Ah well, when I was a young man, them things was always thatched.”

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