“_Ma ta bha buidseashas ann. Chaidh mi fhein aon latha gu tigh coimhearsnaich airson coileach oig, agus bha laogh aca ceangailte aig cul an doruis. Cha robh mi fada san tigh gus an d’thainig nighean a steach. ’Nuair a fhuair mise an t-eun, dh’fhalbh mi, agus cha robh mi ach beagan uine air falbh ’nuair a dh’fhas an laogh tinn. Chuir muinntir an tighe fios thun boireannach a bha ’n sin, aig an robh sgil mu bhuidseachas, mar bhiodh daoine ’g radh, ga h-iarruidh a thighinn a dh’-amhairc an laogh. Thainig am boireannach, ach ma thainig, bha an laogh marbh mus d’thainig i. Co luath ’s a dh’amhairc i air thubhairt i riutha air an spot gum b’e ’n “suill” a dh’aobhraich am bas. Agus air bharrachd air sin, dh’innis i dhoibh co rinn an gonadh. So mar thubhairt i. “Nach robh dithist bhoireannaich agaibh an so am eigin an diugh?” Agus ’nuair a fhreagair iad gun robh, thubhairt ise. “Bha h-aon diubh soilleir, agus an te eile dorcha. Bha shawl glas air an te shoilleir, agus b’bise a dh’oibrich am buidseachas._” “_Nis bha sin gle fhior, oir bha an nighean a thainig a steach nur bha mise san tigh soilleir, agus bha shawl glas oirre cuideachd._” “Indeed, witchery was in it. I myself went one day to a neighbour’s house for a young cock, and they had a calf tied behind the door. I was not long in the house till a girl came in. When I got the bird I went away, and I was only a short time away when the calf became unwell. The people of the house sent word to a woman that was there, who had skill of witchery, as people would be saying, asking her to come to look at the calf. The woman came, but if (she) came, the calf was dead before she came. As soon as she looked on it, she said to them on the spot, that it was the ‘Eye’ that caused the death. And more than that, she told them who had done the mischief (wounding). Here is how she said: ‘Have you not had two women here sometime to-day?’ and when they answered that there had been, she said: ‘One of them was fair and the other dark. There was a grey shawl on the fair one, and it was she that wrought the witchery.’ Now that was quite true, for the girl that came in when I was in the house was fair, and there was a grey shawl on her.” A woman of about sixty-five, a reader of history and Gaelic publications, remembers when the belief in the Evil Eye was so common in Islay, that when any disease came among a person’s cattle, it gave rise at once to a strong suspicion that they had been _air an cronachadh_. The disease was called “_dosgach_.” When one would come with the news of disease or death among a neighbour’s cattle, the person to whom it was told would say, “_Mach an dosgach a so_”; or, “_Mach a so an droch sgeul_” (“Away the plague from here;” or, “Away the evil news from here.”) At the same time, suiting the action to the words, he would tear some piece off the clothes he had on at the time and throw it into the fire. This was supposed to prevent the evil from coming his way.