The Loch of the Lost Sword

The Scottish counties of Perthshire, Argyllshire, and Inverness-shire are said to meet in a small loch on the wild Moor of Rannoch. It is known by a Gaelic name signifying Loch of the Swords, and out of the fierce old days of clan warfare comes the following story as a reason for the title. There had been at one time a dispute between the Earl of Athole and Cameron of Lochiel on the question of their boundaries, and the two chiefs agreed to meet upon the shores of the lonely loch, each coming almost unattended, to discuss the matter amicably.

As Lochiel was on his way to the place of meeting, he was accosted by an old woman, who, with a significant air, asked him the question , ‘Lochiel, Lochiel, where are your men ? ’

‘ I go on peaceful business,’ replied the chief. ‘ I meet the Earl of Athole in all friendship, and leave my men behind, as he also will do.’

The old wife, however, was not to be satisfied. ‘Where are your men, Lochiel?’ she repeated, with such warning in her tones that the chief of the Camerons began to suspect treachery. Unwilling as he was to show any doubt of his neighbour’s good faith, he decided not to be tricked if he could help it, and ordered a band of men, fully armed, to conceal themselves among heather, rocks, and bracken, with strict injunctions not to show themselves until he gave the word.

In due time the two chiefs arrived at the place of meeting, and Lochiel, seeing the Earl of Athole appear almost alone, felt for the moment ashamed of his suspicion. But in the course of the discussion differences arose. Hot words passed between the two, and suddenly, at a signal from the Earl, a band of Athole Highlanders, in full war array, appeared from a hiding-place behind their chief ‘ How now ? What are these ?’ exclaimed Lochiel.

‘ Athole wethers,’ was the reply, as the Earl glanced proudly at this forcible argument on his own side.

For answer Lochiel gave his own signal, and in a moment the Athole men were matched by as many stalwart Camerons.

‘What are these?’ exclaimed the discomfited Earl. ‘Lochaber dogs,’ said Lochiel coolly, ‘with teeth quite ready for the Athole wethers.’

Athole, seeing that his point was not to be gained so easily as he had hoped, had the wisdom to agree to a peaceful settlement, upon which Lochiel, drawing his mighty sword, flung it into the loch, vowing that, until it came to light, the agreement should stand. Athole followed suit, and, throwing his own sword after Lochiel’s, promised that he too would abide by the settlement.

For long years since then the two great weapons have lain peacefully beneath the waters, until, in quite recent times, a lad, fishing on the loch, dragged to the surface a sword of ancient pattern. The old story was remembered, and the people of the neigh¬ bourhood, in terror lest the strife of bygone days should revive, insisted on the weapon being restored to its resting-place. So urgent were they that their demand was agreed to, and the swords of the two chiefs sleep with the ancient quarrel beneath the waters of the lonely loch.

-Chatterbox Magazine 1908