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« on: Tuesday 26 March 19 15:59 GMT (UK) »
(from) Guide to Gairloch and Loch Maree By John H. Dixon, F.S.A. Scot.(pub 1886).....>There were at this time three brothers of the name of Cross, who were sons of one of the last of the Loch Maree ironworkers. One of them was a bard, who built a house at Kernsary, still called Innis a bhaird, or "the oasis of the bard." One of the bard's brothers, named Hector, who had become a crofter at Letterewe, was at a shieling at the Claona (or Slopes), at the back of Beinn Lair, above Letterewe, where he and other crofters grazed their cattle in summer. One day after the battle of Culloden (1745) a stranger, a young Highlander, with yellow hair and clad in tartan, came to Hector's bothie and asked for shelter and refreshment. When the girl gave him a bowl of cream, he drank it off, and returned it to her with a gold piece in it. The news quickly spread among the shieling bothies that the stranger had gold about him. Soon after his departure from Hector's hospitable roof next morning, a shot was heard, and on a search being made the dead body of the young man was found, robbed of all valuables. The murder and robbery were ascribed to a crofter, whose name is well remembered, and whose descendants are still at Letterewe, for from that time the family had money. It is almost superfluous to add that no steps were taken to bring the murderer to justice; the unsettled state of the Highlands at the time would alone account for the immunity of the offender. It afterwards transpired that the murdered stranger had been a valet or personal servant to Prince Charlie, and that he had gone by the name of the "Gille Buidhe," or "yellow-haired lad." He was conveying the gold to his master, which had been sent from France, and it was to meet him that the two vessels had come to Sgeir Bhoora, near Poolewe. It seems he carried the gold in one end of his plaid, which had been formed into a temporary bag, an expedient still often resorted to in the Highlands. A portion of the Gille Buidhe's plaid formed the lining of a coat belonging to an old man at Letterewe in the nineteenth century. Kenneth Mackenzie, an old man living at Cliff (now dead), told me he had seen it.