21st April 2018
Established 1872. Online since 1996.

Tochts fae Tushie Truncherfaece

Eigg on his faece

Dis summer Meenie insisted we wirna raikin awa. “Wi fower peerie trows hit’s an ontak,” she said. “Mind hoo wabbit du wis eftir we traiked tae Norway tae veesit yon trolls?”

Meenie wis fairly richt. A holiday in Shetland wid be mair relaxin. An whaar is boannier on a fine day?

A quick skoit at trowietourist.com an we fan da perfect holiday howe. It wis under a peerie knowe in da trowie territory o Vementry.

Da bairns wir fairly high. Afore we kent hit, da time cam tae fill da kishie an set aff. We didna need a lok. Twartree shifts o claes an wir fyshin waands.

“A’ll mebbe fin a guttery puddle tae aggle in,” said an excited Gutteryaggle.

“A’ll fin a hale scabby man’s heid in da ebb,” announced Snurtysleeves.

“Weel, A’m gaein tae fin ivery bird in my spotter’s book,” braggit Uggledlugs.

“An I’ll tak wis hom twartree troot for wir tay,” said Muttontief.

We traivelled owernicht an cam tae Vementry as da sun wis startin tae rise. Hit wis da boannie wi peerie lochs among da purple heddery hills. Da bairns wid hiv set aff dere an den if we’d let dem, but dey needit dir beds.

Da novelty o bunk beds got dem bedded afore sunrise. I didna want tae dampen dir excitement, but I hed tae warn dem o da dangers for trows on da Wast Side.

“Bairns, my grandfaider gied me guid advice tae follow when oot Wast. Be wary o da Aithsting fokk. Dey say dat if dey waash dir faece wi da first eigg o a shicken, dey can see trows nae budder ava.”

“Wir hed plenty practice hoidin fae humans, Da”, said Snurtysleeves, draain doon his broos.

“Du has dat,” I agreed. “But dunna underestimate da pooers a first eigg fae a shicken might gie dem.”

“Niver leet your Da, said Meenie. “Git some sleep den we’ll explore in da dark.”

We wir waakened by da roar o Uggledlugs. “A’m seen a shaalder! Whaar’s my spotter’s book?”

Meenie an me rubbit da gurr fae wir een an raise tae a mirl o excitement. We set aff wi wir waands an a grain o faerdie maet.

Whit a boannie nicht, perfect tae head for da Brigs. We passed da Loch o Clousta an hit wis laek a lookin gless. You could hear ivery soond, even troots as dey jamp.

We followed da track ower da hill. Da bairns ran ahead tae see ower da broo.

“Wow-wee!” roared Snurtysleeves.

Atween a loch an a sea loch lay a staney brig wi a boannie peerie gate an signpost sayin ‘Da Brigs’. Da bairns fled doon da hill an ran back an fore ower da brig.

I set aff aroond da loch tae fin a guid spot. I couldna help but winder whaar da local trows wir? Dis seemed fine trowie habitat.

I fan a fine spot an set aboot sortin oot wir fyshin gaer. Da boys cam an verged wi da lines for a start.

“Whit ir you playin at?” I axed as dey wir draain line across da groond.

“Du’ll see,” said Muttontief wi a smeeg.

We cast wir lines an I lay back in da girse tae enjoy da paece an quiet. Bliss! Den oot da corner o my een I spottit wir warst nightmare. A human trooter riggit in green wis headin richt for wis.

“Dook doon!” I warned da bairns.

As we croogit laek stanes aside da loch I studied wir predator.

“A’m sure he has yallow on his faece,” I whispered. “He has da pooer tae see wis whaariver we run!”

“Dunna panic, Da,” said a calm Muttontief.

We sat laek gluffed rabbits as da tooter headed wir wye. He hed green rubber buits tae match his rigoot an a collection o flies hookit in his toorie. For a second A’m sure his een met mine. I could see yallow eigg yolk amongst his black whisker.

Den suddenly he trippit. His muckle green buits sailed trowe da air an he landed in a bruck on da grund.

“Run for it!” shouted Muttontief. So we did. We ran for da nearest rabbit hole.

“Dat wis close,” I peched as we croogit undergroond.

“Did du laek wir trowie trap, Da?” axed Snurtysleeves proodly. Da tree boys giggled.

“We set up a tripwire wi some o wir line,” gaffed Uggledlugs.

“Weel done, boys. Dat’s a trowie trick tae be prood o,” I said.

“Yon trooter has eigg on his faece in mair wyes dan wan!” gaffed Muttontief.

Watch oot for trowie traps,

Tushie Truncherfaece xx