Up in Ardmuirland (Paperback)

Excerpt: ...forward with energy and decision. But, alas in spite of his efforts, the light seemed to recede; it grew gradually smaller and less bright until he lost sight of it altogether. The man's powers of endurance were well-nigh spent. His food had been eaten long before while he lay in shelter; his flask-more carefully husbanded-was now empty. He almost gave up striving. Why not give way to the almost uncontrollable desire to lie down and rest in the snow? He could hold out no longer It was at that critical moment that through the intense stillness of the mountain solitudes he heard the bark of a dog Once more he picked up courage. Staggering on a few steps further, he saw from behind an intervening rock, which had concealed it till then, the light from a window not far ahead All interest in his errand had departed long before. What did he care if the mountain were full of illicit stills? The only desire that possessed him now was that roused by the human instinct in every man in peril of his life-the desire to escape from danger. Oh, for sufficient strength to creep onwards If he could but hold out a little, shelter and warmth, and-above all-safety would be his So once again, wearily, painfully, and slowly, he plowed his way through the drifts toward the beacon that shone ahead. Within the modest dwelling to which Davie Forbes was wont to refer as his "hoosachie" (little house), on snow-clad Ben Sguarrach, the living-room looked cosy enough on that wild evening. By the two windows-one at the gable-end of the house, the other near the door-no icy draught could enter, for both apertures were hermetically sealed All the ventilation deemed necessary during the daytime came through the usually open door, by which Maggie Jean was continually passing in and out, bent on domestic duties. (Like other Scottish housewives, she carried out much of her rougher and dirtier housework in the open.) At night, when work was over, the bright lamp...