Sam Adams, a middle-age White American man, 6 feet 2 inches born and raised in Berkeley, California had long wanted to do a walkabout through the moors of Scotland. He had never been to England or Scotland though. He had long been fascinated with Scottish culture, being part Scot on both sides of the family, his paternal great grandfather was Scottish. One day he woke up and decided it was time that he fulfilled his life long mad quest.
He spent days on-line and, on the phone, researching various options, much to the amusement of his wife and friends. He also started spending weekends taking long walks in the Berkeley hills to get in shape. He loved walking in the haunted forest in Tilden park. There were rumors of a mad bagpiper who haunted the forest and one moonlit night he imagined hearing a bagpipe in the distance, but he never encountered the mad bagpiper.

The day finally dawned. He and his wife were to go to London and then up to Inverness. From there Sam would travel to Lynmouth and walk through the highland moors from Exmoor National Park through the towns of Knowstone, Morchard Bishop and then through the Dartmoor National Park and end up in Ivybridge where he would take a bus and return to Inverness and then meet up with his wife in Paris. He had worked this all out with a Self-Walking Tour company which would provide him with his equipment, food, maps, and supplies and meet him in Ivybridge and transports him back to Inverness. There were a few other people on the tour, but everyone was going to go essentially at their own pace and maybe see each other on the trail, maybe not. It was in the middle of the spring and the weather had been dismal but clearing up. Sam had budgeted 10 days for the trip, averaging 15 to 20 miles per day.

The guide met them at the bus stop in Lynmouth and everyone got their gear together. Sam decided to spend the night and start early in the morning. The others were going to start immediately. Sam wanted to do the trip in solitude as a kind of quest -- just to complete it would be wonderful he thought.

The guide's last words were a warning. He said that he felt uncomfortable sending people out on the trail alone as there were wild animals out there and the trail was rough. Some parts of the trail were real wilderness and if you got into trouble it could be days before anyone came along. He strongly urged them to travel together. Sam begged off. He still wanted a solo adventure.

The guide, a friendly avuncular Scotsman, Rodney Mc Donald, with a big beer belly and a long flowing beard, ended by recounting the tale of the "Mad Laird Ghost of the Highland Moors " that delighted in killing innocent hikers. He said that the Ghost is an ancient, cursed creature that kills and eats the bodies of those he kills. No one knows where he came from or even what exactly he was. All they know is that he is active again after a hiatus of several years. Reports have it that he rides up in a fog on a black horse. He is always dressed in an ancient laird's outfit and carries an ax and an old hunting rifle. He is always playing the bagpipes and you often will hear the bagpipes playing long before he appears. He always starts by asking where are you going, and what is your business on his lands? Depending upon the story, sometimes he executes his victims by axing them, sometimes by shooting them and sometimes he lets them go after threatening them.

Everyone has a good laugh and Sam did not believe the story. He looks it up on the internet and found that there have been several stories of hikers being murdered in the moors. The authorities dismiss the "mad Laird "story but say instead that some ruffians and highway robbers are living in the area that makes their living robbing passers-by along the lonely trails. And the authorities strongly encouraged hikers to hike together -- the highway robbers tended to avoid attacking groups, particularly groups with a local guide along for protection.

Sam goes back into town and heads to a pub and discusses the story with the locals. They all have a good time telling variations of the story but in the end, Sam thinks it is a lot of hokum and goes to bed after a few glasses of local whisky and feels a bit anxious but determined to stick to his plan figuring there was nothing to the story, and he did not believe in ghosts.

The next day Sam goes out after breakfast and finds the trailhead just outside of town and starts walking. He walks by himself for several days, camping out by himself along the trail. There are several improved campsites scattered here and there and Sam manages to find them alright. He encounters a few hikers and a few locals along the trail, but no one reports any sightings of the "Mad Laird". Sam is beginning to believe that the stories are just legends.

One morning he stops in the Drewsteignton and decides to break his trip and spend the night. There is a room available at a local inn. He takes a long bath, and goes to the local pub, named the "Mad Laird". The locals are up in arms, there has been a sighting of the" Mad Laird" and a hiker was found murdered. They warn Sam not to hike alone. Several volunteer to go along with him to the town of Holne down the road.

Sam declines their generous offer. The next morning, he leaves early to avoid running into the locals and engaging in another conversation about the "Mad Laird." He is convinced that the locals were putting him on or wanted to work as guides. He was determined to finish the hike on his own.

Midday he is walking through a thickly forested upland and then emerges from the forest into a wide meadow. As he crossed the meadow a thick fog settles in and soon, he is walking by flashlight and is having a hard time seeing the trail. It is cold and dark, and he is chilled to the bone. Suddenly, he hears someone playing the bagpipes.
The sound comes closer and then he sees a man dressed in an ancient Laird's custom on a horse. He is six feet seven inches tall, with a long black beard and long black hair. He has piercing blue eyes that are staring at him with a thousand-year-old stare of a maniac or a lunatic. Sam thought to himself, "Just some old man who drank too much whisky and is heading home to sleep."

The man on the horseback stops and looks at Sam and says,

"What are thou? And what ye be doing on my lands without my permission? Speak up, lad."

Sam, a bit nervous, responds, "I am an American tourist, and am taking a walking holiday. I did not know I was trespassing and if you let me pass, I'll be on my way."

The old man on the horseback, barks out, " American, eh? That is what you ungrateful colonials are calling yourselves these days. Well, tell you what. If you can out drink me, I will let you live. If not, I must kill you. That is the deal, take it or leave it, colonial."

Sam ponders his options and figures it would be easy as the old man was already drunk. Sam said,
"Sure, but I don't have any whisky to offer."

The old man got off the horse, opened a saddlebag, pulled out an unopened bottle of local whisky, and handed it to Sam. Sam started drinking the whisky and hands it off to his host. They exchange bottles and drink mostly in silence. The old man is not very communicative, and Sam figures it might be better to not say much as he doubted his host's mental health. Hours later, Sam, very drunk, is about to fall asleep, thinking that his companion had succumbed to the alcohol. The old man though is back in his horse and begins playing the bagpipes. The fog lifts revealing a full moon over the moors. Sam looks up and sees that the light of the full moon is going right through the old man's clothes and body.

Sam screams and jumps up and starts running. The Laird comes after him and raises his ax screaming
"Colonial, do you believe in Ghosts now?"
Sam's body is found the next day, lying on the moor with his head cut off. Parts of his body had been hacked off and eaten. There was a smoldering fire with human bones in it. A bottle of local whisky is left next to his body and there are horse hoof prints and human prints, some from an exceptionally large man, all around the body.
The End