Summary

Awful phenomena of nature -- snow storms… (1828)

Nearer home, at Tinwald, Torthorwald, and Kirkmahoe, several sheep perished, though by far the greater number were rescued alive. At the former place, a whole flock were engulphed in one huge wreath, but the tups, from their superior strength and agility, boxed their way into open day, and then stood bleating at the side of the wreath, as if in commiseration of those who were still in the grave they had just escaped from. The shepherds understood and obeyed the signal, and by dint of hard labour saved the remainder of their master’s flock.
Source: Wikisource

Awful phenomena of nature -- snow storms… (1828)

In the country, matters must have been far worse, and we grieve for the fate of many a lamb whose cradle will be—not the budding heath or gowany sod—but in all probability, a wreath of snow. In the low grounds, where the lambing season is mostly over, many of the ewes have dropped twins, but it is otherwise among the hilly and high districts, where the great bulk of our sheep stock is reared. There, speaking generally, the lambs dropped, are not above a day or two old, and those who happened to he out of doors yesterday will have some idea of their helpless situation.
Source: Wikisource

Awful phenomena of nature -- snow storms… (1828)

Distracted with grief and horror, surrounded by the shades of night, shivering with cold, and appalled with the apprehension of immediate death, from the swords of those who had murdered their friends and kinsmen, they could not endure such a complication of calamities, but generally perished in the waste before they could receive the least comfort or assistance.
Source: Wikisource

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