I seem to remember this story about the estuary in Harris, the one that runs down to the sea by some absolutely stunning beaches. In daytime in summer, the place is thronged with cars, coaches and campervans. When they go away at the end of summer, it reverts to form. It’s where the river tumbles down the moorland, a little distance south of the main road, finally coming to rest where the road ends from the beach. And if you are there at springtide, when the tide ebbs, after nightfall and in the light of the full moon…
The estuary is sandy, and the river winds its way through, often changing its path. Oh, the local people know not to try to cross. You don’t know what might happen on the way. It looks so tempting, and particularly from further along, it would save up to a dozen miles from having to go all the way round. But it’s better to go the extra mile. Trust me.
Years ago, as the folk there will tell you in a whisper, there was this courting couple. One from Losgaintir, the other from Niseaboist. The day was warm, the sun was blazing over the hills. They had arranged to meet again late one afternoon. As they sat talking away, dark clouds loomed to the east, and a chill wind blew down the valley. A flash of lightning was almost invisible in the waning sunlight, but the thunder was unmistakeable. They hurried down the sands, as the heavens opened further inland. The storm moved north, not reaching their part of the island. Loth to part, they eventually decide to walk home across the estuary. Halfway across, a spate of water came crashing down the hills, scouring away the safe passage. Two houses, either side of the estuary, were left waiting that evening.
The river often changes course, and the sands shift. Sometimes, a safe passage is present, but it just as easily vanishes again. But nowadays, no local people will attempt the crossing. Some weeks after the young couple were lost, another shortcut was attempted by a couple. Again, as it happened, a storm broke out inland. And as the couple were at mid-crossing, two ghostly figures were seen emerging from the waters, riding the waves of the spate on what appeared to be a white horse. They carried one off to their doom. But the other lived to tell the tale.
Do not attempt the crossing of Traigh Losgaintir.