she gazed up into the man’s face. “I’ve never heard of a chanter.”
“Why, it’s a very important part of a bagpipe,” the man said as he picked up one of the instruments made of dark wood, flared on one end. “This one is made of blackwood, and if you tried to play one of these on a bagpipe, you’d probably end up fainting before getting a single note out.” He set the chanter down in its place and picked up a narrower plastic version. “This is where a new piper needs to start, with a practice chanter. Learning to play the full bagpipes with bag and four reeds is a lot easier once you’ve mastered the practice chanter.” He looked at the adults and grinned. “It also causes less pain for the people and dogs within a mile of the new player.”
Emily looked from the practice chanter to the full bagpipes propped up on a nearby table. “Wow, that boy in the band this morning must have started practicing when he was a baby!”
“What colors was he wearing?” the man asked.
“Red and black.”
“You must be talking about Colby. He’s a rare one. I’ve only known one other piper who played as well so young.” For a brief instance the merry eyes of the man dimmed, but he gave a slight shake of his head and then addressed Emily’s companions. “Is there anything I can help you find?”
Peggy and Alice looked at Annie, who reached into her bag for the ferrule. “There might be,” Annie said, showing the man the ferrule. “I found eight of these, with no bagpipe, in the house my grandparents used to own. I was wondering if you might be able to tell me anything about the engraving, whether it’s from a particular clan or family.”
The man reached out a hand, and asked, “May I?” Annie placed the piece in his hand. “You have eight of them, you say? That’s one short of a complete set.” He took a pair of glasses out of his shirt pocket, donned them, and examined the mystery ferrule. “Sterling silver, excellent craftmanship.” He paused and sighed. “Unfortunately, I don’t know of any clan with that crest.” He handed the ferrule back to Annie. “But there are several tartan and clan tents where you will find people to help you look for clan crests and badges.”
“Thank you, Mr. … ” Annie started.
“MacTavish—like the sign says,” the pipemaker said. “I hope you will come back and see me, if you ever decide to learn piping.” He chuffed Emily gently under the chin. “Especially you, lassie. And come back next year to see young Colby play again. He’ll be a whole year better.”
Emily bobbed her head. “I will, if Mom and Daddy bring me. Bye, Mr. MacTavish!”
As Emily and the women left, Mr. MacTavish stood staring after them, deep in thought.
The women wove between the tents, seeking out more bagpipe or music vendors. Annie showed the ferrule to three more pipe experts, all of whom showed interest in the quality of the piece and design. None of them, however, could tell her anything about the hawk-and-rose design.
After they thanked the last vendor, Peggy stopped her friends outside the tent. “You know I’m all for clue hunting,” she said, “but if we don’t do the next part of the search more quickly, we won’t make it through all the vendors before we’re supposed to meet Wally and Ian. I suggest we split up.”
Alice looked at her watch. “Hmmm, I see what you mean. We’ve passed several tartan and clan tents, so I agree with your suggestion, Peggy.”
“I do, also,” said Annie. “Em, will you help your mom look for two things, the hawk-and-rose symbol and—” she pulled the photos of the sporran out of her bag and showed them to the young girl, “see the design on the clasp? The sprig is juniper. If we can find out what clan is associated with juniper, it might help us solve the mystery.” Then she handed two of the photos to Peggy. “Take these with you.”
“And call or text us if you find anything,” Alice told her.
“Why, it’s a very important part of a bagpipe,” the man said as he picked up one of the instruments made of dark wood, flared on one end. “This one is made of blackwood, and if you tried to play one of these on a bagpipe, you’d probably end up fainting before getting a single note out.” He set the chanter down in its place and picked up a narrower plastic version. “This is where a new piper needs to start, with a practice chanter. Learning to play the full bagpipes with bag and four reeds is a lot easier once you’ve mastered the practice chanter.” He looked at the adults and grinned. “It also causes less pain for the people and dogs within a mile of the new player.”
Emily looked from the practice chanter to the full bagpipes propped up on a nearby table. “Wow, that boy in the band this morning must have started practicing when he was a baby!”
“What colors was he wearing?” the man asked.
“Red and black.”
“You must be talking about Colby. He’s a rare one. I’ve only known one other piper who played as well so young.” For a brief instance the merry eyes of the man dimmed, but he gave a slight shake of his head and then addressed Emily’s companions. “Is there anything I can help you find?”
Peggy and Alice looked at Annie, who reached into her bag for the ferrule. “There might be,” Annie said, showing the man the ferrule. “I found eight of these, with no bagpipe, in the house my grandparents used to own. I was wondering if you might be able to tell me anything about the engraving, whether it’s from a particular clan or family.”
The man reached out a hand, and asked, “May I?” Annie placed the piece in his hand. “You have eight of them, you say? That’s one short of a complete set.” He took a pair of glasses out of his shirt pocket, donned them, and examined the mystery ferrule. “Sterling silver, excellent craftmanship.” He paused and sighed. “Unfortunately, I don’t know of any clan with that crest.” He handed the ferrule back to Annie. “But there are several tartan and clan tents where you will find people to help you look for clan crests and badges.”
“Thank you, Mr. … ” Annie started.
“MacTavish—like the sign says,” the pipemaker said. “I hope you will come back and see me, if you ever decide to learn piping.” He chuffed Emily gently under the chin. “Especially you, lassie. And come back next year to see young Colby play again. He’ll be a whole year better.”
Emily bobbed her head. “I will, if Mom and Daddy bring me. Bye, Mr. MacTavish!”
As Emily and the women left, Mr. MacTavish stood staring after them, deep in thought.
The women wove between the tents, seeking out more bagpipe or music vendors. Annie showed the ferrule to three more pipe experts, all of whom showed interest in the quality of the piece and design. None of them, however, could tell her anything about the hawk-and-rose design.
After they thanked the last vendor, Peggy stopped her friends outside the tent. “You know I’m all for clue hunting,” she said, “but if we don’t do the next part of the search more quickly, we won’t make it through all the vendors before we’re supposed to meet Wally and Ian. I suggest we split up.”
Alice looked at her watch. “Hmmm, I see what you mean. We’ve passed several tartan and clan tents, so I agree with your suggestion, Peggy.”
“I do, also,” said Annie. “Em, will you help your mom look for two things, the hawk-and-rose symbol and—” she pulled the photos of the sporran out of her bag and showed them to the young girl, “see the design on the clasp? The sprig is juniper. If we can find out what clan is associated with juniper, it might help us solve the mystery.” Then she handed two of the photos to Peggy. “Take these with you.”
“And call or text us if you find anything,” Alice told her.
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