Chapter 9 - Murdo's Tale
Harry needed to sleep again. It seemed that he had lost all of his strength and the presence of the barrels so close appeared to be the cause of his weakness. He felt their presence as if they were sucking energy out of him. Murdo had been relaxed and talkative for the last couple of hours. He felt nothing emanating from the barrels but he realized that Harry was in difficulty.
While Harry rested, Murdo told him of his life years ago when dwarves still dwelt in the caves and how Murdo himself had been a master blacksmith. He had taken great pains to stress that dwarfish blacksmiths were skilled beyond all reckoning of humans. They could build complex contraptions such as clocks, engines and of course the most wonderful jewellery. His people had made the vaults at Gringotts for example and it was acknowledged that the locks for those doors were far beyond the understanding of all other races - the goblins had only been tutored in the use of the locks but even they didn't understand how they actually worked.
So as Harry lay on the bed of old blankets Murdo told him his amazing story.
Murdo's passion had always been vehicles - he had invented mine carts that could travel faster than a horse and could manoeuvre in the tight confines of the mines. From time to time he had ventured from his caves to investigate the vehicles used by man. These were becoming increasingly sophisticated and fast.
Then he'd met Campbell.
It had been 25 years since that chance meeting. Murdo had been roaming the hills on one of his 'upside' days when he left the caves to satisfy his curiosity for what was happening in the world of people. He would peer over hedges watching farmers at work with their implements. He would overlook roads observing the cars passing by. All of these things fascinated Murdo. Then one day he witnessed something that was to change his life dramatically. He was out on the hills above Lake Conniston when he saw a marvelous thing. The fastest thing he had ever seen was skimming across the lake surface. The a roar of a powerful engine arrived at his vantage point and echoed across the valley sending wild birds flocking from the trees. The boat was blue with sleek lines and curves. There was a cockpit for the driver and the whole vehicle seemed to be built around an enormous engine.
Murdo was transfixed as the boat sped across the lake finally slowing and turning for shore. He had to get a better look. He scurried down through the trees soon reaching the inlet where the boat was now moored and some people were examining the front of the boat. There had been some damage to the nose cone during the test and they were discussing the problem. Murdo got so close that he could easily hear their conversation.
'Should we try a thicker plate metal?' asked one man.
'No, no,' replied another who judging by the leather racing helmet had been the driver 'that will be too heavy and the nose will dip. We must find something other than tin - it is too weak.'
'Have you tried steel?' blurted Murdo before he could stop himself.
The others looked around in amazement at the unexpected voice. Murdo stood up from behind the tree stump that was his hiding place and stepped forward.
'Wonderful! Truly amazing!' Murdo announced mostly to himself as he was drawn towards the boat.
The people looked on as this short fellow with a mass of bushy red hair and clothes that at best could be described as rustic stepped into their clearing by the lake and interrupted their deliberations.
One stout man with a moustache challenged Murdo, 'Who are you? Be on your way you scruffy little man.'
This suddenly brought Murdo back to his senses. So mesmerized was he that he had completely forgotten himself and now he realized that these people would not be aware that dwarves, who tended to keep themselves secret were still living in these parts.
Murdo looked about him nervously and muttered again, 'have you tried steel - for the nose cone?'
'Look here....' started the same man when the taller man wearing the leather helmet interrupted.
'No, we haven't tried steel. It is strong enough - that's for certain but we can't get it thin enough and moulded to the correct shape,' he looked curiously at the dwarf.
'How thin do you need it?' asked the dwarf his eyes flashing up towards the man.
'No more than an eighth of an inch,' came the reply.
'I can do that for you - no problem,' said Murdo and he placed his fists on his hips and thrust his chest out to emphasize his capability and sincerity.
The tall man laughed and the others in the clearing, as if sharing a joke, joined in but they were soon silenced when the tall man said, 'how long would it take?'
'Mr Campbell, you can't be serious,' said the stout man through his moustache. But Murdo butted in with a reply, 'I can be here with it in two days - just let me take the dented nose cone away with me and I'll bring you a copy in steel first thing day after tomorrow.'
'This is absurd!' blustered the stout man, 'it would take weeks to set the equipment and as I've already said my engineers cannot do it. They simply don't have the know how and they are the best in the country.'
Murdo frowned and let out a 'hmmph.'
The tall man regarded him for a moment rubbing his chin, 'how much for the work?'
Murdo hadn't considered the question but now that he was asked, he knew the answer immediately.
'Is there room for passengers in that beautiful vessel?' he said nodding towards the boat.
'Not normally,' said the tall man with a hint of amusement in his voice but in your case I may be able to make an exception as long as you don't mind sitting on my lap.'
The other people in the clearing looked on in astonishment at the strange deal that was being made.
Murdo replied, 'you have a deal Mr err Campbell is it?'
Mr Campbell held out his hand and said, 'just call me Campbell. And do you have a name?'
'Yes sir I do - it is Murdo MacDonald.'
The two shook hands and Murdo left will the dented tin nose cone.
The cone was difficult to carry as it was nearly half his height nevertheless he ran all the way back to his forge deep under the hills and set to work. He worked all through the first night forging the steel plate at exactly one eighth of an inch. That was the easy part - then the next day he set about with his hammers and anvils shaping the plate into an exact replica of the original except of course without the dent. It was tense work as a misplaced blow would ruin the whole thing but a halfhearted blow would never achieve the result. He had to trust in his ability and that trust was well justified. He then finished the job on the second night by completing the edges and bolt holes. So, by the second morning, he was polishing a gleaming silver nose cone.
He covered it in a sheet, roped it to his back, and set off to the lake.
When he arrived the group of people were already at the site tinkering with the boat, examining the engine or looking at the plans.
'Good morning Murdo!' said Campbell who had oil stains on his face and was cleaning his hands with a rag.
'How did you get on then?'
It was clear that the other people in the group were still highly suspicious of Murdo but when he uncovered his work every one of them were in awe. They had been working on the engineering for the boat for years. To produce a new nose cone out of a new material as difficult to work with as steel would normally have taken many months. Even then they could not have been sure of success yet here this funny little man claimed to have achieved what was seemingly impossible.
Murdo took the wrapping sheet off the sparkling new nose cone.
Campbell clapped his hands and laughed out loud, 'well, let's see if it fits.'
The steel nosecone slid into place perfectly and the bolts were tightened.
'Wonderful work Murdo. Now you'll have to help me try it out,' said Campbell and Murdo gave a huge grin.
'let's go!' said the dwarf and on his short legs he strode towards the cockpit.
So that morning Campbell and Murdo took the Bluebird (for that was the name of the boat) for a test run across the still waters of Lake Conniston. It was the most wondrous experience of Murdo's life and from that point onwards he was firmly established as part of Campbell's team. Systematically they took each part of the boat for Murdo to inspect and assess. He would then suggest improvements that could increase strength or performance or reduce weight and then he would head off back to his forge and make the changes.
After several months, Campbell had arranged a secret workshop to be constructed on the far side of the lake. Campbell was the only person who visited the workshop apart from Murdo who by now had installed a bed and was living there. Bluebird smashed world records for speed and Campbell and Murdo were keen to try for new even more fantastic goals. With Murdo assisting, they set about new projects while also running Bluebird to improve on their previous records.
To Murdo, this was a wonderful time and he and Campbell became the greatest of friends.
Then one day Campbell didn't return.
Bluebird had crashed at full speed out on the lake. It had broken into pieces and sunk without trace. That was the end of Campbell and in some respects, it was the end of Murdo.
Murdo couldn't help blaming himself. He had made the Bluebird better, lighter, faster and more powerful than it would otherwise have been. He was therefore to blame when that very speed had killed his friend. He was desolated and became a recluse. For a few years, he continued tending the workshop and he completed some of the ongoing projects that he and Campbell had started although these would never leave the workshop.
Finally he closed down the workshop leaving everything oiled and covered and he headed back to the caves and the hills.
By the time he returned to his old home under the hills all of his people had departed. He stayed on and gradually in his grief and solitude he became more and more eccentric - bordering on mad - for some 25 years until he had been caught and imprisoned a few weeks ago. Deep down he was still broken hearted. All his dreams had been of speed and engines. Those dreams could never be fulfilled with Campbell gone and indeed, without Campbell there was no reason to continue.
'That must be Sir Donald Campbell!' said Harry in amazement.
'So you helped build the Bluebird - wow! That must have been fantastic.'
Harry looked down at Murdo who was sat on the floor looking at his own feet with a dreamy smile on his face. Murdo was lost in his own thoughts and his hands were holding an imaginary steering wheel. His feet were pressing imaginary pedals and he was making vroom vroom noises.
Harry considered the old dwarf and for a moment doubted Murdo's story - perhaps it was just the wild imaginings of a mad dwarf. To look at him now it was hard to believe that he had achieved all that he claimed and although Harry had heard of the famous Sir Donald Campbell, who broke numerous world speed records, he didn't recall that there was ever any mention of a dwarf assisting him. But then again, he supposed that such news might well have been kept a secret. After all, to most muggles, dwarves, giants, and such like were just the stuff of fairy tales.
Harry drifted away to sleep.
Harry needed to sleep again. It seemed that he had lost all of his strength and the presence of the barrels so close appeared to be the cause of his weakness. He felt their presence as if they were sucking energy out of him. Murdo had been relaxed and talkative for the last couple of hours. He felt nothing emanating from the barrels but he realized that Harry was in difficulty.
While Harry rested, Murdo told him of his life years ago when dwarves still dwelt in the caves and how Murdo himself had been a master blacksmith. He had taken great pains to stress that dwarfish blacksmiths were skilled beyond all reckoning of humans. They could build complex contraptions such as clocks, engines and of course the most wonderful jewellery. His people had made the vaults at Gringotts for example and it was acknowledged that the locks for those doors were far beyond the understanding of all other races - the goblins had only been tutored in the use of the locks but even they didn't understand how they actually worked.
So as Harry lay on the bed of old blankets Murdo told him his amazing story.
Murdo's passion had always been vehicles - he had invented mine carts that could travel faster than a horse and could manoeuvre in the tight confines of the mines. From time to time he had ventured from his caves to investigate the vehicles used by man. These were becoming increasingly sophisticated and fast.
Then he'd met Campbell.
It had been 25 years since that chance meeting. Murdo had been roaming the hills on one of his 'upside' days when he left the caves to satisfy his curiosity for what was happening in the world of people. He would peer over hedges watching farmers at work with their implements. He would overlook roads observing the cars passing by. All of these things fascinated Murdo. Then one day he witnessed something that was to change his life dramatically. He was out on the hills above Lake Conniston when he saw a marvelous thing. The fastest thing he had ever seen was skimming across the lake surface. The a roar of a powerful engine arrived at his vantage point and echoed across the valley sending wild birds flocking from the trees. The boat was blue with sleek lines and curves. There was a cockpit for the driver and the whole vehicle seemed to be built around an enormous engine.
Murdo was transfixed as the boat sped across the lake finally slowing and turning for shore. He had to get a better look. He scurried down through the trees soon reaching the inlet where the boat was now moored and some people were examining the front of the boat. There had been some damage to the nose cone during the test and they were discussing the problem. Murdo got so close that he could easily hear their conversation.
'Should we try a thicker plate metal?' asked one man.
'No, no,' replied another who judging by the leather racing helmet had been the driver 'that will be too heavy and the nose will dip. We must find something other than tin - it is too weak.'
'Have you tried steel?' blurted Murdo before he could stop himself.
The others looked around in amazement at the unexpected voice. Murdo stood up from behind the tree stump that was his hiding place and stepped forward.
'Wonderful! Truly amazing!' Murdo announced mostly to himself as he was drawn towards the boat.
The people looked on as this short fellow with a mass of bushy red hair and clothes that at best could be described as rustic stepped into their clearing by the lake and interrupted their deliberations.
One stout man with a moustache challenged Murdo, 'Who are you? Be on your way you scruffy little man.'
This suddenly brought Murdo back to his senses. So mesmerized was he that he had completely forgotten himself and now he realized that these people would not be aware that dwarves, who tended to keep themselves secret were still living in these parts.
Murdo looked about him nervously and muttered again, 'have you tried steel - for the nose cone?'
'Look here....' started the same man when the taller man wearing the leather helmet interrupted.
'No, we haven't tried steel. It is strong enough - that's for certain but we can't get it thin enough and moulded to the correct shape,' he looked curiously at the dwarf.
'How thin do you need it?' asked the dwarf his eyes flashing up towards the man.
'No more than an eighth of an inch,' came the reply.
'I can do that for you - no problem,' said Murdo and he placed his fists on his hips and thrust his chest out to emphasize his capability and sincerity.
The tall man laughed and the others in the clearing, as if sharing a joke, joined in but they were soon silenced when the tall man said, 'how long would it take?'
'Mr Campbell, you can't be serious,' said the stout man through his moustache. But Murdo butted in with a reply, 'I can be here with it in two days - just let me take the dented nose cone away with me and I'll bring you a copy in steel first thing day after tomorrow.'
'This is absurd!' blustered the stout man, 'it would take weeks to set the equipment and as I've already said my engineers cannot do it. They simply don't have the know how and they are the best in the country.'
Murdo frowned and let out a 'hmmph.'
The tall man regarded him for a moment rubbing his chin, 'how much for the work?'
Murdo hadn't considered the question but now that he was asked, he knew the answer immediately.
'Is there room for passengers in that beautiful vessel?' he said nodding towards the boat.
'Not normally,' said the tall man with a hint of amusement in his voice but in your case I may be able to make an exception as long as you don't mind sitting on my lap.'
The other people in the clearing looked on in astonishment at the strange deal that was being made.
Murdo replied, 'you have a deal Mr err Campbell is it?'
Mr Campbell held out his hand and said, 'just call me Campbell. And do you have a name?'
'Yes sir I do - it is Murdo MacDonald.'
The two shook hands and Murdo left will the dented tin nose cone.
The cone was difficult to carry as it was nearly half his height nevertheless he ran all the way back to his forge deep under the hills and set to work. He worked all through the first night forging the steel plate at exactly one eighth of an inch. That was the easy part - then the next day he set about with his hammers and anvils shaping the plate into an exact replica of the original except of course without the dent. It was tense work as a misplaced blow would ruin the whole thing but a halfhearted blow would never achieve the result. He had to trust in his ability and that trust was well justified. He then finished the job on the second night by completing the edges and bolt holes. So, by the second morning, he was polishing a gleaming silver nose cone.
He covered it in a sheet, roped it to his back, and set off to the lake.
When he arrived the group of people were already at the site tinkering with the boat, examining the engine or looking at the plans.
'Good morning Murdo!' said Campbell who had oil stains on his face and was cleaning his hands with a rag.
'How did you get on then?'
It was clear that the other people in the group were still highly suspicious of Murdo but when he uncovered his work every one of them were in awe. They had been working on the engineering for the boat for years. To produce a new nose cone out of a new material as difficult to work with as steel would normally have taken many months. Even then they could not have been sure of success yet here this funny little man claimed to have achieved what was seemingly impossible.
Murdo took the wrapping sheet off the sparkling new nose cone.
Campbell clapped his hands and laughed out loud, 'well, let's see if it fits.'
The steel nosecone slid into place perfectly and the bolts were tightened.
'Wonderful work Murdo. Now you'll have to help me try it out,' said Campbell and Murdo gave a huge grin.
'let's go!' said the dwarf and on his short legs he strode towards the cockpit.
So that morning Campbell and Murdo took the Bluebird (for that was the name of the boat) for a test run across the still waters of Lake Conniston. It was the most wondrous experience of Murdo's life and from that point onwards he was firmly established as part of Campbell's team. Systematically they took each part of the boat for Murdo to inspect and assess. He would then suggest improvements that could increase strength or performance or reduce weight and then he would head off back to his forge and make the changes.
After several months, Campbell had arranged a secret workshop to be constructed on the far side of the lake. Campbell was the only person who visited the workshop apart from Murdo who by now had installed a bed and was living there. Bluebird smashed world records for speed and Campbell and Murdo were keen to try for new even more fantastic goals. With Murdo assisting, they set about new projects while also running Bluebird to improve on their previous records.
To Murdo, this was a wonderful time and he and Campbell became the greatest of friends.
Then one day Campbell didn't return.
Bluebird had crashed at full speed out on the lake. It had broken into pieces and sunk without trace. That was the end of Campbell and in some respects, it was the end of Murdo.
Murdo couldn't help blaming himself. He had made the Bluebird better, lighter, faster and more powerful than it would otherwise have been. He was therefore to blame when that very speed had killed his friend. He was desolated and became a recluse. For a few years, he continued tending the workshop and he completed some of the ongoing projects that he and Campbell had started although these would never leave the workshop.
Finally he closed down the workshop leaving everything oiled and covered and he headed back to the caves and the hills.
By the time he returned to his old home under the hills all of his people had departed. He stayed on and gradually in his grief and solitude he became more and more eccentric - bordering on mad - for some 25 years until he had been caught and imprisoned a few weeks ago. Deep down he was still broken hearted. All his dreams had been of speed and engines. Those dreams could never be fulfilled with Campbell gone and indeed, without Campbell there was no reason to continue.
'That must be Sir Donald Campbell!' said Harry in amazement.
'So you helped build the Bluebird - wow! That must have been fantastic.'
Harry looked down at Murdo who was sat on the floor looking at his own feet with a dreamy smile on his face. Murdo was lost in his own thoughts and his hands were holding an imaginary steering wheel. His feet were pressing imaginary pedals and he was making vroom vroom noises.
Harry considered the old dwarf and for a moment doubted Murdo's story - perhaps it was just the wild imaginings of a mad dwarf. To look at him now it was hard to believe that he had achieved all that he claimed and although Harry had heard of the famous Sir Donald Campbell, who broke numerous world speed records, he didn't recall that there was ever any mention of a dwarf assisting him. But then again, he supposed that such news might well have been kept a secret. After all, to most muggles, dwarves, giants, and such like were just the stuff of fairy tales.
Harry drifted away to sleep.