Rory MacGillivray

Once upon a time a tenant in the neighbourhood of Cairngorm, in
Strathspey, emigrated with his family and cattle to the forest of
Glenavon, which is well known to be inhabited by many fairies as well as
ghosts. Two of his sons being out late one night in search of some of
their sheep which had strayed, had occasion to pass a fairy turret, or
dwelling, of very large dimensions; and what was their astonishment on
observing streams of the most refulgent light shining forth through
innumerable crevices in the rock--crevices which the sharpest eye in the
country had never seen before. Curiosity led them towards the turret,
when they were charmed by the most exquisite sounds ever emitted by a
fiddle-string, which, joined to the sportive mirth and glee accompanying
it, reconciled them in a great measure to the scene, although they knew
well enough the inhabitants of the nook were fairies. Nay, overpowered
by the enchanting jigs played by the fiddler, one of the brothers had
even the hardihood to propose that they should pay the occupants of the
turret a short visit. To this motion the other brother, fond as he was
of dancing, and animated as he was by the music, would by no means
consent, and he earnestly desired his brother to restrain his curiosity.
But every new jig that was played, and every new reel that was danced,
inspired the adventurous brother with additional ardour, and at length,
completely fascinated by the enchanting revelry, leaving all prudence
behind, at one leap he entered the "Shian." The poor forlorn brother was
now left in a most uncomfortable situation. His grief for the loss of a
brother whom he dearly loved suggested to him more than once the
desperate idea of sharing his fate by following his example. But, on the
other hand, when he coolly considered the possibility of sharing very
different entertainment from that which rang upon his ears, and
remembered, too, the comforts and convenience of his father's fireside,
the idea immediately appeared to him anything but prudent. After a long
and disagreeable altercation between his affection for his brother and
his regard for himself, he came to the resolution to take a middle
course, that is, to shout in at the window a few remonstrances to his
brother, which, if he did not attend to, let the consequences be upon his
own head. Accordingly, taking his station at one of the crevices, and
calling upon his brother three several times by name, as use is, he
uttered the most moving pieces of elocution he could think of, imploring
him, as he valued his poor parents' life and blessing, to come forth and
go home with him, Donald Macgillivray, his thrice affectionate and
unhappy brother. But whether it was the dancer could not hear this
eloquent