Bob Lovell from New Zealand has sent in this tale, told by his Dadus It dates from around 1910.
Mulo on the way home

One summer evening my Grandmother and her sister were making their way home to the family's stopping place. The upper race it was called - where my father was born.

Now Grandmother and Aunty had been down in Pontypool town most of the day selling wooden pegs and flowers they had made, plus of course, the odd bit of dukkraphen.

The day had been a good one with the Gorgio buying all they had to sell and before starting home, they brought food and drink for the folki back at the tan.

Most times they always went home the same way as having no wish to just sight see for there were the chavi and the men folk to feed and see to, this being the way of Romani folki, if one has no reason for being away from their loved ones, then they should be quick to get home.

But this day being late starting for home, Grandmother and Aunty decided to take a short cut, which meant crossing three fields and around the edge of the fields was a line of hedge and trees.
As they begun to cross the first field the sky started to cloud over and the moon was hiden by dark clouds.

By the time they entered the second of the three fields, night had come on proper with even more dark clouds covering the moon, in fact they could hardly see where they were going, just then Aunty says to grandmother pennar "you hear what I'm hearing", "you mean that clinking & crying noise" says grandmother, "yes that noise" says Aunty who had stopped and looking back cried out, pennar look what's coming after us.

Grandmother looked back and yelled in fright, "O duvvel! Whats that?" Aunty crys" Dik! there's a man being dragged along by a big grai and the man's is all atangled up in a chain and theys all glowing, like fire!"

Both grandmother and Aunty cried out! it's a mulo and both started to run for their very lives.

They ran towards the edge of the last field dropping food and things from their baskets in the rush to escape the mulo, somehow they found their way through the hedge on the edge of the field scratching themselves as they went.

As they came onto the lane leading to the camp they remembered their baskets which they had dropped. Of course there was no way they were going back to get them, not without some of the men folk.

As they entered the camp, Grandfather says to Grandmother, "where have you and your sister been, we were going to come down the lane looking for you both."

Both the woman poured out their story of the mulo and mulo grai in the fields where they had taken the short cut home.

Grandfather says, "those three fields just yonder up lane, they say there was a ploughboy killed up there years ago cause he was in to much of a hurry to harness up, that he didn't do it right and he got all tangled up in the harness & chains and he got dragged around the field and was killed."

"But I don't believe it", says Grandfather, "I think you Romni been seeing things again!"

The next morning Grandmother, Aunty and Grandfather, and a few of the men, went to the three fields to find all the food and the baskets the woman had dropped in fright the night before. But nowhere was there any food or baskets, not even a crumb of food to be seen.
Grandmother and Aunty never took the short cut again!

Mulo at the Hop Picking >>

Bob Lovell tells his own story >>