38 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS, 



The use of snow as a warm mantle to protect the young crops 

 from the frost is familiar to all. Some of us have seen, and we 

 have nearly all read of, the wonderful scenes that take place 

 among the Scottish mountains, where the snow-drifts are heaped 

 like white hUls by the wayward tempest, taking all kinds of fan- 

 tastic forms, and scooped into bays, and precipices, and craggy 

 mountains, with outlines as bold and sharp as if cut in unyield- 

 ing granite. After such storms as raise these strange mockeries 

 of rugged landscape, whole flocks of sheep are missing, and must 

 be sought by the shepherd and his faithful dog. 



As the two allies press onwards in their quest, they walk at 

 random, for the snow masses have swept over hill and dale, 

 have obliterated all the well-known landmarks, raised hills 

 where hollows had been, and have changed the face of nature. 

 Left to himself the shepherd would scarcely discover a single 

 sheep, and in all probability would find himself in the very 

 predicament from which he seeks to rescue his woolly charge. 

 Were it not for the line instincts of the quadruped many a flock 

 would be lost, but the dog sniffs and runs about, and raises his 

 nose in the air as the well-known odour salutes his nostrils, 

 and finally dashes forward and comes to a stand-still over 

 a little hole in the snow, around which is gathered a slight 

 incrustation of hoarfrost. This is a sure indication that the 

 sheep are below and still living, and then the shepherd breaks 

 through the roof of the snowy cell with his pole, and rescues the 

 starving animals from their perilous position. 



The sheep which are thus preserved from the effects of the 

 cold do not voluntarily burrow into the snow. They are not 

 intended to pass a large portion of their lives in a subnivean 

 abode, and their presence under the snow is quite accidental. 

 Striving to avoid the chilling blasts of the wind, they crowd 

 towards any object that may shelter them from the cruel tempest, 

 and while huddled together, the snow-drifts are heaped around 

 them, and cover them effectually. Under such circumstances they 

 often die of starvation if they are left undiscovered for too long a 

 period, after having nibbled all the wool from each others' backs. 



But the White Beae intentionally places herself in such a 

 position, and towards the month of December retreats to the 

 side of a rock, where, by dint of scraping, and allowing the 

 snow to fall upon her, she forms a cell in which to reside during 



