It has been many years since Willie
Westness of Over-the-Watter on the isle of Sanday was out digging lugworms for
bait, in that little sandy bay on the eastern side of Elsness. When his pail
was filled, the tide had still not yet turned. The trink was still safe to cross,
and he thought to look for driftwood further up the shore. Now he heard a cry
coming from the rocks - a sob like that of a woman in pain which grew into a
loud, odd sound and died down into a moan.
It seemed to be coming from the geo, a little inlet that was hid behind the
rocks and was covered at high tide. Out in the deep waters a large seal had
raised its head and was listening, and watching closely. Willie moved
quietly towards the geo. As he came round the rocks that had been hiding
it, he saw there lying on the stone, another big seal. At her side was a newborn
seal-pup. He ran down the rocks and the mother-seal fled. The seal splashed
into the sea, but the seal-pup still lay there helpless by his feet. It wriggled
when he took it up but then pressed itself against him.
I'll take it as a playmate for the bairn, Willie thought. And I'll keep it in
the little loch at Over-the-Watter. On the edge of the rocks the mother-seal
swam and cried in her sorrow.. When Willie looked back, she was hauling herself
awkwardly out of the water to lay wailing on the rocks, with her big round eyes
filled with tears. He looked down and the seal-pup looked back up at him with
its soft, large, brown eyes. It pulled at his sleeve. Its peedie smooth round
head was just like a baby's. . .
"Ach, selkie", said Willie to the seal-mother, "take thee bairn then and be
gone away wi' ye!". He put the seal-pup down near the water's edge and he watched
as the seal came to fetch it. Then he picket up his bucket full of lugworrns
and went back over the trink as the tide was beginning to turn.
Nine years later, Willie Westness' family had grown to four. One bright
day the three littlest were wading for cockles on the little sandy bay. They
knew all to well that they should not cross over the trink as the water came
in fast and deep with the high-tide. Yet they remembered hearing their father
say that the cockles were better over there than in the bay itself. So after
a bit of disagreement, they went over. "We won't be long," said the eldest
named Johnny,. "We'll be right back," said Jeanie, his sister. There were
plenty of cockles so they went on collecting them. When the bucket was almost
full, they headed back. But now the tide was coming in fast. The trink was wider
than went they crossed. "Quick!" said Johnny "Quick!". But while they shouted
at him and pulled on him, their little brother Tam's poor legs just could not
go over the rocks any quicker. With every passing moment the waters deepened.
It was around their ankles when the to littlest ones started to cry and to clutch
each other for comfort. Johnny stood and looked around, seeing the sea rising
about him. He called out but no one could be seen across the trink to come and
help them. All the while the waters rose.
Then the children heard a soft voice singing near to them. From up behind them
two people had appeared - two grey-cloaked women that they had not seen before,
although Sanday is not a large island.
"Come here, bairns," said the elder of the women, with a round and friendly
face, and big round brown eyes. "Come here, before it is too late for you" She
held little Tam and Jeanie by their hands and walked them straight through the
water which was now up to the eight of their knees. It came up to their waists
as they crossed the trink. And then up to their necks. But the grey-cloaked
woman held them tight, and they made it back to dry land. They looked back and
saw their brother being lead by the hand by the younger woman. In her other
hand she held the bucket of cockles they had all but forgotten.
"All is now well," said the older woman smiling at them. The younger woman smiled
softly and gazed at them warmly with her big brown eyes. The older woman looked
at them seriously and said "Take your father this message from me, and be sure
not to forget it". - she repeated this to be sure the children had it in their
heads - "Say to your father, Willie Westness, that he should remember
nine summers ago. Say to him that One Spared to the Sea is Three Spared to the
Land."
She made the children say this over and again so they would not forget -
"One Spared to the Sea is Three
Spared to the Land."
"Away with you bairns! Go home
to your family" said the old grey-cloaked woman
"And dunno go pass the trink again - I only come the once for you". With
this she gave them a prod homewards . Off they ran. They looked back and saw
that the tide had come in and was now high over the rocks where they had been.
But they could not see the two grey-cloaked women, just a pair of seals swimming
towards the point of Elsness.