Harkness – MacGillivray Stories

The Cliffhanger is a semi-fictional short story based on documentary evidence described in Part III of this book.

The transition was so subtle that it was almost imperceptible to someone who is not a native to the island. Perhaps it was in the way that the gusty chillness of the air had slowly given way to a gentle warmth that suffused the soul. Or perhaps it was the sight of the Manx shearwater birds that flew over to the cliffs to lay their eggs. That must surely be it.

The landscape took on a golden glow as summer warmly embraced the island. The advent of summer, after a slightly chilly spring, brought forth children as young as five years old to begin their foraging for the eggs and chicks of the shearwater birds on the Isle of Eigg.

Most of the islanders were poor, and food was scarce. Aside from a few livestock, there was not much substantial nourishment to be had, except for lobsters and fish caught in the sea. Long ago, someone had the idea to harvest the eggs and chicks from the shearwaters to feed hungry stomachs. Such a tradition had been practiced for eons.

The Manx shearwaters are marine birds and only go inland to mate and hatch their eggs. People might think that such birds just go about their business in the usual way, with no thought of safety or protection for their young. But no! They have noted their most vicious predators: the men on the island. And whatever it was that had egged them to avoid laying their eggs in areas accessible to men proved to be a blessing for them. The islanders are hungry and have plenty of mouths to feed. And the sight of such fat birds made their mouths water. But the birds developed a cunningness ingrained in their brains to survive against such an onslaught.

They chose to lay their eggs high up in the cliffs, where no man may dare climb. On the cliffs, the birds found temporary respite from their human predators. They keep their eggs on the deepest crest or burrow they can find. They stay hidden by day and only come out at night. Their chicks are safe now. Or so they thought.

Men, ever-cunning and wily, thought of ways to get their eggs and chicks in whatever way possible. As such, a devious plot came to their minds. The burrows were so small that only a small hand could possibly extract the chicks and eggs. So, they decided to let their children do such gruesome tasks with no thought for their safety, only thinking about their growling stomachs.

It was quite a wonder why their mothers didn’t protest to such a happening. Perhaps their motherly instincts were silenced by the sounds of their bellies, in dire need of sustenance. Perhaps their worried thoughts and qualms were silenced by the loud insistence of their husbands that even children must learn to seek food to help feed the family.

And the children were eager to do such a task. They thought it was mere child’s play to climb the rocky edge of the cliffs and beat the other children at this ‘game’. It had become a competition as to who could get the most eggs or chicks. Egged on by their parents and the adults on the island, the search for such treasures had evolved into an unspoken contest over who can catch the most.

Ewen was such a child. As the son of Ruaridh, the gravity of being the offspring of the island’s strongest man must have been ingrained into the child’s mind at a young age. Ruaridh may have also egged his boy to be the best, the fastest, and the strongest boy on the island. After all, an apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. That’s what Ruaridh thought. Since birth, Ruaridh has made it his task to mould his child into a younger version of himself. It would be quite a shame if his son turned out to be feeble, and Ruaridh’s reputation would be at risk.

Ewen idolized his father and wanted to be like him. He would do his best, so that his father would be proud of him. Fear of heights was nothing compared to the fear of disappointing his father. He would do whatever his father told him so as to earn his trust, love, and affection.

Besides, he really loved the taste of the young Shearwater birds. This story is in English. But of course, the Celtic people of Eigg were not English (Sassenachs)! The Shearwater birds in Gaelic were called, fachach. In fact, the people of the Isle of Eigg were so closely bound to their main form of sustenance, the birds, that they also came to be known as “the Fachach”. Thus, it was a test of whether or not you were a true islander. 

If you did not enjoy eating the flesh of the fachach then you were not a true Eiggach.

Ewen’s father had taught him the sense of responsibility of providing food for the family. But he was only a child, and as such, foremost on his mind was play and more play. As such, searching for eggs and chicks was ‘playtime’ for him.

Together with other children his age, they were at the bottom of the cliff and stared at the imposing giant precipice they were about to climb. Ewan felt a tremor of fear, but dismissed it from his thoughts. He turned to his father, who gently smiled at him. He waved with a tremulous hand at his father, slightly hoping that Ruaridh would suddenly forbid him to join the search for the fatlings. But his father was busy talking with his friends, proudly announcing that his son would be the one to get the biggest cache of fatlings and eggs.

Ewen stared at his father, taking time to memorize the broadness of his shoulders and the angles of his face. He ran up to Ruaridh, and to his father’s surprise, he embraced his father’s leg in a tight hug. Taken aback and unused to such a display of emotion, Ruaridh could only pat his son’s head and whisper to Ewen to go back near the foot of the cliff. Ewen’s eyes seemed to beg his father to call him off the task, but his father mistook his look for acceptance of the task.

With hunched shoulders, he started to climb up the cliff at Craignafeulac, along with many other children. Knowing that his father was watching him, he climbed faster and higher, hoping to do his father proud. Strong and agile like his father, he was the best climber among the children.

He never told his father that he had a fear of climbing high up. His father would surely have mocked him and told him that a son of a Campbell was not afraid of anything. Swallowing the lump in his throat, his shaky hands and legs took him higher up the cliff.

With a trained eye, he searched for crevices where a bird might have laid its eggs. Seeing a burrow, he extended his arms as far as he could and found a fatling chick. Success! He placed the chick inside his sack. Fuelled by his first find, he searched and found more fatlings. Now only if he could find one more little chick. 

He had secretly hoped to find a chick and raise it as a pet. He knew his father would be angry, because his father only thought of the birds as food. But Ewan loved the birds. He cried secretly every time his mother cooked the little chicks. His plan was to secretly raise a bird on his own—something to take care of. Perhaps he could hide one of the chicks from his father, he thought to himself.

Further up the cliff at Craignafeulac, he found a small opening and heard a slight squeak. Excitedly, he reached into the hole, and lo! He found a chick! He took out the chick carefully so as not to harm the small one. At last, he gazed into its eyes, and an immediate connection was formed. He vowed to keep the bird for himself. The chick gave a little chirp, which brought a smile to Ewen’s face. But such a little chirp was what ended Ewen’s young, miserable life.

The chick’s mother heard her little one’s peep and immediately proceeded to attack Ewen, using its beak and claws. Ewen became frightened and tried to fend off the bird. But soon, other birds joined in the attack. 

Ewen could fend off the attack of a single bird, but the attack of a multitude was too much for him. He let go of the little chick, placing it gently back on a safe surface, then used his arms to defend himself.

Ewen fell fast. But his mind was in slow motion. He felt the wind caress his body as he fell. The breeze rocked him gently in its arms, enveloping him in a safe cocoon. He saw his mother’s smile and smiling eyes. He saw the pride in his father’s eyes because he was the fastest and strongest boy on the island.

“Father, do I make you proud? I hope so. I’ve done everything you wanted me to do. I even climbed the cliff, even if I am afraid to do so, just to make you happy, father. Just so I could see the pride shining in your eyes. I really wanted to become the man that you are. But sadly, my life is short. Will you promise to bring a bird to my grave so that I will not get so lonely?”

Imagining his father’s nod, Ewen smiled a sad smile just before his body hit the rocks.