Wordsmith keeps festive frights heritage alive and well

As well as being something of a psychological comfort blanket, Christmas has a dark side that has long been explored in fiction.

The tradition of telling spooky stories at this time of year goes back further than most of the more cosy customs associated with the festive season, and it’s something that’s relished by many readers.

Household names such as Charles Dickens, Washington Irving, James Joyce and Jeanette Winterson have helped keep the pagan tradition alive, and today Craigie brings you a chilling short story for Christmas from the pen of our regular correspondent Kenneth Miln.

Harking back to Dundee’s jute ties to India in the late 19th Century, it is named ‘The Hamadryad’ after a Greek mythological being that lives in trees.

Ken writes: “The three young jutewallahs, on leave from their respective mills in the West Bengal moffusil, were spending a few days at a remote forest bungalow situated overlooking the river Sarda as it roared down through vertiginous Himalayan valleys.

“The Sarda was known to be one of India’s most prolific angling waters and a magnet for anglers keen to land the ‘big one’. It was evening and the sun had set and a gentle breeze stirred the leaves on nearby trees producing pleasing ripples of sound, a perfect scene of tropical tranquillity.

“Fin, or Findlay, from Kirriemuir, accomplished at waving the wand (casting) for salmon on the Esk at Glen Clova, inhaled deeply on a cigarette. Jim – James from Dundee – of rather rotund form and looking very pleased with himself, crammed potato chips into his mouth. Jock (John), also from Dundee, reached for a peg of whisky and soda from his long-sleever’s glass holder, a cane chair with fold-out leg supports.

“The three wallahs were enjoying the peace and quiet after months of noise, dust and sweat of the jute mills.

“However, the evening’s peace was soon disturbed by the loud baying from a pack of jackals prowling around the bungalow’s veranda, where the pale light from a

hurricane lamp formed strange shadows. The eerie baying made the wallahs sit up and stare out into the darkness. Jim stopped munching chips, Fin exhaled a plume of blue smoke and Jock spoke out, ‘Seems that we could be in for an interesting night!’

“After a supper of roast chicken, the usual forest bungalow fare, the wallahs retired to their rooms for a good night’s sleep and an early rise to pursue their piscatorial ambitions.

“It was close to midnight when a terrifying scream, seemingly from Jim’s room, caused both Fin and Jock to leap from their beds and run towards whatever had caused such a dreadful disturbance.

“What they witnessed that night was to

remain with them for the rest of their lives.

“Jim must have fallen asleep leaving his door open and his hurricane lamp alight. Possibly attracted by the room’s light and warmth, a very large hamadryad – a king cobra, of which specimens of almost 20 feet in length have been recorded – entered Jim’s room and reared up over his bed...”

You can find out how Mr Miln’s story ends in the conclusion to The Hamadryad in tomorrow’s final Craigie before Christmas!

Music hall star Sir Harry Lauder is shown here in the centre of this vintage photo, which was taken somewhere in Courier Country in July 1946, shortly before his 76th birthday. Can any readers tell us what the occasion was, or possibly who else is pictured with him?