The Dugs O' Largs

THE DUGS O' LARGS

Fair warnin', a' ye gather'd here,

If saft o' heart, avert yer ear;

As I recite this legend auld,

O' ghastly deeds an' heroes bauld.

Doon the slopes on Ayrshire's coast,

I tell this tale o' foreign ghosts;

Frae lands aye caulder, they did travel,

Tae sack this toon that's built on gravel.

As moonlicht spray'd upon the shore,

An' fog roll'd up aboot the moor,

An' drinkers drank in Droughy Neebors,

The tide was bringing ruthless raiders.

As midnight chim'd, last orders pour'd,

The clocks surrender'd tae the hour;

Oot at sea, a gang o' deid

Row'd the silver waves at speed.

Their backs were drapp'd in wolven fur,

As were their chests, I can concur;

Upon their heids, they were adorn'd

Wi' iron-clad helmets, horns upturn'd.

Altho lang deid, through twist o' fate,

Their hunger burn'd, an' couldnae sate;

Revenge they sought, through twisted sears,

Overdue Five hundred years

Back at the bar, the mood was merry,

The patrons sang as they sunk their be'vy;

An' the barmaids wrestled, nae dainty lassies,

As they wecht away their half-fu' glasses.

Amidst this brawl o' drunken men,

An' fiery maids, turn'd fox an' hen,

The landlord's glare, as ripe as dung,

As he seized the men wha would be flung.

There sat a man upon a table,

The fellow wha convey'd this fable;

He held a whiskey an' a beer,

As guid a man as e'er cud' here.

Wi' unbuckled britches an' a missing shoe,

A righteous sinner frae a pauper's pew;

Unkempt hair an' a pungent reek,

Wi’ his lodgings up on Nelson Street.

And at his feet, his loyal mate,

Curled up aside' the fire's grate;

A black an' white patch o' tiny hound,

His ears alert, tho' he sleepeth’sound.

The man was known frae here tae Troon,

As a glaikit fool an' a raving loon;

Wha's drinkin', he was niver' frugal,

His name was Hamish, his dug ca'd Dougal.

So as beer an' glass were final parted,

The landlord roared, an' the drinkers darted;

Wi' Hamish huckled oot the door,

He headed West towards the shore.

He stagger'd doon beside the bay,

As Dougal peed in his Canine way;

An' the cauld fog nipped a'twixt their toes,

There came a sight o'er moonlit glow.

A longboat, sails unfurl'd frae hell,

Was steamin' in frae stormy swell;

Aboard, a ghostly vision spied,

Ten deid men, noo come alive.

They waved their vicious weapons high,

An' sang their chant, a Nordic cry;

So wrapped in fear, auld Hamish froze,

Then muttered prayers through fouter'd prose.

The monstrous horde climbed aff their boat,

An' made their way tae cut his throat,

Noo' sober Hamish, wi' the drink dispell'd,

Cleared his throat an' barely yelled.

“Get back, ye ghouls!” cried frighted Hamish,

For he had nae sense or tongue o' Danish;

As the phantom crew, wi' murder sought,

Advanced tae kill, or so he thought.

Frae brambled bush on harbour path,

Wee Dougal sprung in leap o' wrath,

He stood atween' his master's feet,

An' viewed those demons as tho' meat.

He arched his back an' raised his jowl,

An' summon'd up a wretched growl;

Then let loose wi' a high-pitched bark

That'd scare the night, tae light frae dark.

The vikings sudden stopped right dead
Dropp’d their weapons, turn’d an’ fled
Screamin' as they launched tae sea
But how did Dougal stop their spree?

Those sailors, mony years afore,

Laid fiery waste tae Largs fine shores;

But a' didnae leave that time, ye see,

The year o' this, 1263.

As that battle raged an' was almost done,

An' the toon o' Largs near o'er-run,

Unlikely heroes o' that fight

Came tae aid their masters' plight.

They came fae hill an' wood and hame
Or ere' else where they happen'd layin'
Wi' oot a thocht they joined their clan
and stood atween' their cherished man

The dugs o' Largs were nae afraid,

Showed their worth an' stopp'd that raid;

An' bravely chased as Vikings ran,

Then stood firm barkin' frae the sand.

As Norsemen scrambled tae their fleet
There wisnae room for a' tae seat
so men went doon wi' lagan toast
Laid derelect aff' Ayrshires Coast

These drookit souls nae laid tae rest
would rise aince mair upon request
Ancestral sages broke their sleep
Berserkers woke from waters deep

But a' that time they laid in state
Their fear o' dugs wud no abate
five centuries aff Cumbrae's deep
Wud haunt their dreams in hellish sleep

So when they landed on the shore
A second time thru' ghoulish lore
And saw wee Dougal standing brave
They ran straight back tae watered grave

So noo' the folks o' Largs are canny
An fill the toon wi breeds o' many
An woe betide the nyaff who says
They dinnae care for tending strays

That's why a' dugs are welcome now,

Descendants o' those brave auld hounds,

Who saved a toon an' Vikings spurn'd,

Who even deid wouldnae return