Free Web Hosting Provider - Web Hosting - E-commerce - High Speed Internet - Free Web Page

The Tale of the Glothagach Crog MacCraigean was a grand fraigein fellow, and there was nought that he feared in all Scotland. He was admired for his strength by all, but avoided because of his hardheadedness. There was never an arguement but he was right, and never a thing that he couldn't do that much better than the next man. Crog had a croft holding away from the village by the Angwash. The Angwash was a place given wide berth in the daylight, and spurned entirely at night. But Crog just laughed, and said that the peat was close by and needed little carrying. But alone near the Angwash he was quiet and careful, for it was an evil looking bog, with worse smell. He heard strange sounds at night, and saw wicked lights beckoning the foolish to their death. But Crog was that stubborn he wouldn't admit even to himself that he would be better off with some other home.
On one particular evening he was in the village winning more than his fair share of arguements, and setting a fair set of teeth on edge. So it was that he was late setting off for home feeling more than frogan. The mist was low over the ground and the moon was rising full over the Angwash. About half way to his little stone cottage Crog heard a tremendous splash from the bog. He quickened his pace some and began to whistle - to keep the faery lights away. But whistling or not, soon he heard another great splash and a BRR-GUMPH. The hair on his head stood up straight and Crog was wishing that he had his claymore with him on this foggy road, but as he did not he picked up a stout stick and swung it like a sword. Then with his stick on his shoulder and whistling a fine tune, Crog MacCraigean walked up the road as bold as you please. BRR-GUMPH sounded right behind our lad and he spun around giving such a swipe with his stick that it fair screamed through the mist. But nothing was there. Thena thump shook the ground. Crog turned back to see the hugest craigean that he had ever laid eyes on.
"BRR-GUMPH," said the frog "You will make a fine snack for me this night."
"Indeed I will not." replied Crog and settled his stick on the path to lean on. "I never yet heard of any frog big enough to snack on a man."
"Ye never heard of me then lad. I am the Glothagach, and I will most certainly make a meal of ye." The great frog reached out with red-clawed fingers to grasp at the man. Crog simply batted the hand away with his stick.
"If ye would eat a man, ye are no proper frog."
"I am as much frog as you are man."The Glothagach puffed up with rage.
"No frog can talk as you do, nor grow to such immense size." Crog waggled his stick under the Glothagach's nose. "Ye must be a beast of faery enchantment, and no proper frog at all." Crog nodded his head, pleased that he had settled yet another arguement. "Now if you will move yourself. I will be getting home."
"You are right." Said the Glothagach. "I am no real frog."
"Of course," snapped Crog MacCraigean, "I have said it."
"So then," said the monster, "you won't mind if I have my meal." and he swallowed Crog down as fast as a frog eats a fly. "BRR-Gumph"

Return to Front Page

Fraigein - a brisk warlike fellow
Frogan - liveliness, a slight degree of drunkenness
Claymore - a scottish broadsword
Craigean - frog
Glothagach - literally frog's spawn


Living Room	Hall	Kitchen	Library	Front Door