The great distinctive headland of the Mull of Galloway is traditionally described as the scene of the last stand made by the Picts, as they were driven backwards and seawards to destruction by the overwhelming force of the Scots.

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Not far from this classic spot, a favourite haunt of the fairies is located. South of Portankill there is a small fortification called the Dunnan. On this spot there came once upon a time to a man sitting there, on a fine summer evening, an old-fashioned looking, diminutive woman dressed in green, carrying a tiny ailing child on her back, and holding a little wooden water stoup in her hand. She earnestly asked this man to go to the far-famed and quite near "Well of the Co' " and bring her some of the healing water for the decrepit little morsel she carried, as she was tired and done. Churlishly enough the man refused, and roughly told her she could go her own errands. The little woman bore his abuse patiently enough, then, naming him, solemnly warned him "never again to sit down on her hoose-riggin' or he might look to it" - and then somehow she seemed to disappear. The man began to regret his ungracious conduct, all the more that it was generally believed that beneath the "Dunnan" lived the fairies, and if that was so, then at that very moment he was actually on their "hoose-riggin'." Much disturbed in mind, he made for home; but tradition affirms that from that day forward everything went wrong - cattle died and crops failed, and eventually, going one night to the Dunnan to watch a vessel that was likely to come ashore and so help his own evil plight, he was stricken with illness at the hands of the fairies - so the country-side said - and died.

On a level field on the farm of Mosscobin, betwixt the Kirk of Anwoth and Skyreburn village, there lately remained, or may still remain, two large stones which bear the name of Rutherford's Witnesses.

The reason why such a name was given stands as follows:- The people of Anwoth, ere [Rev. Samuel] Rutherford was settled among them, had frequently assembled there on the Sabbath evenings to play at football. Rutherford not only denounced this practice from the pulpit, but frequently followed them, and reproved on the spot; he called on the objects around, particularly on three large stones to witness betwixt them and him, that, however they might continue such practices, he had done his duty.

The history of the removal of the third stone is curious. A person employed in building a fence, wished to avail himself of these stones ; a fellow labourer ordered him to desist, warning him of the danger of touching such sacred relics; the other persisted, and even jeered Rutherford as a fanatic. He removed one of the stones, and swore that he would remove them all before he broke his fast. In attempting the second stone, hoever, he fell down dead; or as another tradition says, he was choked with a bite of bread which he attempted to swallow while applying his punch to the sacred stone.

This cairn is perched upon the summit of the Kells Rhynns, and may be discerned at 15 miles distance to the south. Some say it was thrown together to commemorate the burning of a witch - others, that it was erected on the spot where an old female Covenanter was murdered by Grierson of Lag. [...] Yet the foundation of the cairn can boast of a much older date than the persecution under Charles the Second, for it was collected by a venerable old woman, who at one period was the protrectress and hostess of King Robert the Bruce.

Finding that neither he nor his horse could get a foot farther, the determined fugitive alighted, and unsheathing a sword, on whose blade was engraven the sacred name of Jehovah, he twice waved it around him, and then describing a circle with its point on the sward, he charged, in the name of God, his pursuers not to overstep that circle. The mysterious band - furious as they were - stood, as mysteriously arrested. They had no power to overpass the circle; - but surrounding it, menaced the horseman until a neighbouring cock crew, when one of the most inveterate of the gang drew a large knife from beneath her apron, cut the horse's tail, which, it seems, hung beyond the verge of the sacred circle. They then scampered off; and the horseman, standing firm in the ring with the drawn sword still in his hand, awaited the day-break, and then, renewing the circle, and giving thanks to his Maker, he rode home to his residence.

[...] Certain it is, that Foster, as long as he lived, and his sons and grandsons after him, made a point of renewing the circle annually.

Round Tynron Doon there linger memories of a spectre in the form of a headless horseman restlessly riding a black horse.

The local tradition is, that the ghost was that of a young gentleman of the family of McMilligan of Dalgarnock, who had gone to offer his addresses to the daughter of the Laird of Tynron Castle. His presence was objected to, however, by one of the young lady's brothers. Hot words followed, and in high wrath the suitor rode off; but mistaking his way he galloped over the steepest part of the hill and broke his neck, and so, with curses and words of evil on his very lips, his spirit was not allowed to pass untroubled to the realms beyond.