Tales of the Black Fox

Legend of the Sgàirn Dubhan

"That person never returned or inquired as to whether or not I'd ever discovered an answer." he revealed.

"Were you able to figure it out?" all the more curious.

"Aye, a week or two ago and quite by chance... while doing some unrelated research into ancient Hebridean mythology." he recounted, hesitated just long enough to peer over the top of his glasses to make eye contact with me, and then like a professor, detailed, "You may not know, but many research answers are discovered this way, simply by chance and random circumstance rather than by something profound."

"Can you tell me the answer?" pushing hopefully but wondering if I was intruding into something confidential.

"Certainly!" confirming without hesitation.

Dr. Macdonald stood from his desk and walked over to the chalkboard mounted on the wall. On the board he scratched two words, turned to face me and then started his explanation, "Your skirren-goon is most likely a mispronunciation of these two Gaelic words. Sgàirn and Dubhan. Or Sgàirn Dubhan."

"That sort of sounds like what my uncle used to say," I accepted, "but what does it mean?"

"Sgàirn roughly pronounces in English as shkarn and means noise of stones or howling of dogs. Dubhan however has slight variations characteristic of the particular isle on which the Gaelic-speaker dwells; most often it's pronounced as either doo-an or doo-van. This literally means hook, particularly a fishing hook, or claw. A more obscure translation however is snare." explaining in detail as he pointed at each word in turn and lightly tapped the chalk board with the chalk for emphasis.

Bewildered by the seemingly senseless translations he'd given, I admitted, "It doesn't seem to mean anything."

"So too I thought, but first... tell me precisely where in the Hebrides your uncle emigrated from?"

"The Isle of Lewis, Carloway to be exact." and certain about this answer.

"Ah yes... near the Stones of Callanish. It does fit rather nicely." he remarked animatedly, displaying a genuine interest in the subject.

"And what fit would that be?" clueless about what he was telling me.

"Centuries ago ancient highlanders swore that stones would howl during storms and gales when strong winds blew across those treeless bogs." replying first and then pausing as if to reflect upon an afterthought.

"Howling stones?" I interjected.

"Ach yes! And today's no different! Under the right conditions we can hear wind moaning through wires or tree branches." he debated with certainty and then mused, "I suppose to those ancients that could well have sounded like howling dogs."

"True." now understanding his point.

"Ancient Highland lore is filled with supernatural stories and, naturally, 'An Sgàirn' the sounds of howling winds would feed into that lore." Dr. Macdonald added as if he was leading up to a story but didn't start it.

He tossed the chalk onto the ledge and returned to his desk.

"In what way?" I prodded when he stopped, wondering if he'd reveal more.

"That unknown would develop into spirits, ghosts and creatures of the night that wander. Of course "Dubhan" logically follows in that chain... the ancients believing those mystical creatures would sink their hooks or claws into an unsuspecting soul, or snare some unfortunate person caught alone out at night... as that expression of your late uncle likely alluded to." Dr. Macdonald explained in an easy to follow way.