The Big Snow 215 



accounted peculiarly powerful, but dangerous 

 in that if the rabbit died of the hurt, his fam- 

 iliar spirit would be apt to visit the torture the 

 poor creature had suffered upon the torturer. 

 Curing, well packed in herbs, over the smoke 

 from green tansy stalks, was also essential. 

 But if the curer talked with a red-haired 

 woman, met a brindled cow in the road, or 

 found a black cat following him, he was ad- 

 vised to throw away the rabbit's foot, or, better 

 still, bury it, give himself a sulphur purge, and 

 not even think of magic until a moon later. 



The big snow went as it came. White 

 Oaks awoke to find the wind sitting south, 

 the sky hazily overcast, and sluices running 

 wherever there was a sloping track. By noon 

 the ground began to peep out on the hillsides, 

 by night it was raining, a warm flood. Next 

 day, only remnant ragged drift-blotches, and 

 the sodden green of the wheat fields remained 

 to tell the tale of the snow. 



