Coinnach Oer - Page 2

the M'Kenzies, and was so provoked by this sally in their
praise, that he not only broke out into a severe satire against their
whole race, but gave vent to the prophetic denunciation of wrath and
confusion upon their posterity. The guests being informed (or having
overheard a part) of this rhapsody, instantly rose up with one accord to
punish the contumely of the prophet. Kenneth, though he foretold the
fate of others, did not in any manner look into that of himself; for this
reason, being doubtful of debating the propriety of his prediction upon
such unequal terms, he fled with the greatest precipitation. The
M'Kenzies followed with infinite zeal; and more than one ball had
whistled over the head of the seer before he reached Loch Ousie. The
consequences of this prediction so disgusted Kenneth with any further
exercise of his prophetic calling, that, in the anguish of his flight, he
solemnly renounced all communication with its power; and, as he ran along
the margin of Loch Ousie, he took out the wonderful pebbles, and cast
them in a fury into the water. Whether his evil genius had now forsaken
him, or his condition was better than that of his pursuers, is unknown,
but certain it is, Kenneth, after the sacrifice of the pebbles,
outstripped his enraged enemies, and never, so far as I have heard, made
any attempt at prophecy from the hour of his escape.

Kenneth Oer had a son, who was called Ian Dubh Mac Coinnach (Black John,
the son of Kenneth), and lived in the village of Miltoun, near Dingwall.
His chief occupation was brewing whisky; and he was killed in a fray at
Miltoun, early in the present century. His exit would not have formed
the catastrophe of an epic poem, and appears to have been one of those
events of which his father had no intelligence, for it happened in the
following manner:--

Having fallen into a dispute with a man with whom he had previously been
on friendly terms, they proceeded to blows; in the scuffle, the boy, the
son of Ian's adversary, observing the two combatants locked in a close
and firm gripe of eager contention, and being doubtful of the event, ran
into the house and brought out the iron pot-crook, with which he saluted
the head of the unfortunate Ian so severely, that he not only
relinquished his combat, but departed this life on the ensuing morning.