"Noo, gin a' hed asked him hoo mony fouk wud come tae his beerial, he wud hae said, 'They 'ill be Drumsheugh an' yersel', an' maybe twa or three neeburs besides the minister,' an' the fact is that nae man in oor time wud hae sic a githerin' if it werena for the storm. "Ye see," said Jamie, who had been counting heads all morning, "there's six shepherds in Glen Urtach--they're shut up fast; an' there micht hae been a gude half dizen frae Dunleith wy, an' a'm telt there's nae road; an' there's the heich Glen, nae man cud cross the muir the day, an' it's aucht mile roond;" and Jamie proceeded to review the Glen in every detail of age, driftiness of road and strength of body, till we arrived at the doctor's cottage, when he had settled on a reduction of fifty through stress of weather. Drumsheugh was acknowledged as chief mourner by the Glen, and received us at the gate with a labored attempt at everyday manners. "Ye've hed heavy traivellin', a' doot, an' ye 'ill be cauld. It's hard weather for the sheep, an' a'm thinkin' this 'ill be a feeding storm. "There wes nae use trying tae dig oot the front door yestreen, for it wud hae been drifted up again before morning. We've cleared awa the snow at the back for the prayer; ye 'ill get in at the kitchen door. "There's a puckle Dunleith men--" "Wha?" cried Jamie in an instant. "Dunleith men," said Drumsheugh. "Div ye mean they're here, whar are they?" "Drying themsels at the fire, an' no withoot need; ane of them gied ower the head in a drift, and his neeburs hed tae pu' him oot. "It took them a gude fower oors tae get across, an' it wes coorse wark; they likit him weel doon that wy, an', Jamie man"--here Drumsheugh's voice changed its note, and his public manner disappeared--"what div ye think o' this? every man o' them hes on his blacks." "It's mair than cud be expeckit," said Jamie; "but whar dae yon men come frae, Drumsheugh?" Two men in plaids were descending the hill behind the doctor's cottage, taking three feet at a stride, and carrying long staffs in their hands. "They're Glen Urtach men, Jamie, for ane o' them wes at Kildrummie fair wi' sheep, but hoo they've wun doon passes me." "It canna be, Drumsheugh," said Jamie, greatly excited. "Glen Urtach's steikit up wi' sna like a locked door. "Ye're no surely frae the Glen, lads?" as the men leaped the dyke and crossed to the back door, the snow falling from their plaids as they walked. "We're that an' nae mistak, but a' thocht we wud be lickit ae place, eh, Chairlie? a'm no sae weel acquant wi' the hill on this side, an' there wes some kittle (hazardous) drifts." "It wes grand o' ye tae mak the attempt," said Drumsheugh, "an' a'm gled ye're safe." "He cam through as bad himsel tae help ma wife," was Charlie's reply.