176 SHEEP FARMING ON THE BORDER 



farm on the Teviot. There they remained for six long 

 weeks, while the ground was caked completely with 

 ice — not a blade of grass or tuft of heather to be seen. 

 They were all, 2,400, fed twice a day by hand on hay. 

 It was curious to see how, when the first breath of ' fresh ' 

 came into the air, all the hill sheep stopped eating, and 

 every nose turned in the direction of home with loud and 

 prolonged ' baas ; ' and I do not know whether shepherds 

 or sheep were most delighted to return to their wilds. 



When the joyful day came, it reminded one of the 

 flight out of Egypt to see the long line of sheep and 

 shepherds wending over the hills. Little do our friends, 

 who come to us in summer days, like the swallows, 

 understand how different our winter life is. It has its 

 discomforts, its many anxieties ; but it also brings one 

 face to face with nature in a way which does one good. 

 It is grand to force one's way up the hill after a wild 

 storm, and see the snow piled up and blown into all 

 kinds of queer shapes and caves, till one can believe 

 oneself in the Arctic Circle. It is good to see master, and 

 men, and dogs all working together on the quest for 

 buried sheep, feeling about with long poles in likely places 

 till the dogs come to the rescue and scent out the sheep. 

 If the snow is dry and powdery, sheep can live three 

 weeks easily beneath it ; but if it is soft it will very 

 soon smother them ; in which case great is the anxiety 

 to get them to the light of day. 



Such are some of the not uncommon events of Border 

 life — not very remarkable, not very blood-curling ; but 

 bringing with them more of hardship than most things 

 in every-day life. 



