‘“I _knok_ this ragg wpon this stane, To raise the wind, in _the Divellis_ name; It sall not lye,[72] untill I please againe!” ‘[Whan] we wold lay the wind, we dry the ragg, and say [thryse ower]: ‘“We lay the wind in _the Divellis_ name, [It sall not] ryse quhill we lyk to rease it again!” ‘And if the wind will not lye instantlie [after we say this] we call wpon owr Spirit, and say to him: ‘“Thieffe! Thieffe! conjure the wind, and caws it to [lye ...]” ‘We haw no power of rain, bot ve will rease the wind quhan ve pleas.--He maid us beliew [...] that ther wes no _God_ besyd him. ‘As for Elf-arrow-heidis, _the Diuell_ shapes them with his awin hand, and syne deliueris thame to Elf-boyes, who whyttis and dightis[73] them with a sharp thing lyk a paking neidle; bot [quhan I was in Elfland?] I saw them whytting and dighting them. Quhan I wes in the Elfes howssis, they will haw werie ... them whytting and dighting: and _the Diwell_ giwes them to ws, each of ws so many, quhen.... Thes that dightis thaim ar litle ones, holow, and boss baked![74] They speak gowstie[75] lyk. Quhen _the Divell_ giwes them to ws, he sayes: ‘“Shoot thes in my name, And they sall not goe heall hame!” ‘And quhan we shoot these arrowes we say: ‘“I _shoot_ yon man in _the Divellis_ name, He sall not win heall hame! And this sal be alswa trw; Thair sall not be an bit of him on lieiw.”[76] ‘We haw no bow to shoot with, but spang[77] them from the naillis of our thowmbes. Som tymes we will misse, bot if thay twitch[78] be it beast, or man, or woman, it will kill, tho’ they haid an jack[79] wpon them. Qwhen we goe in the shape of an haire, we say thryse owr: ‘“I sall goe intill ane haire, With sorrow, and sych, and meikle caire; And I sall goe in _the Divellis_ nam, Ay whill I com hom [againe]!” ‘And instantlie we start in an hair, And when we wold be owt of that shape, we vill say: ‘“Haire [haire, God send the caire!] I am in an hairis liknes just now, But I sal be in a womanis liknes ewin [now]!” ‘When we vold goe in the liknes of an Cat, we say thryse ower: ‘“I sall go [intill ane catt,] [With sorrow, and sych, and a blak] shot! And I sall goe in _the Divellis_ nam, Ay quhill I com hom again!” ‘And if ve [wold goe in ane Craw,[80] then] we say thryse ower: ‘“I sall goe intill a craw, With sorrow and sych, and a blak [thraw! And I sall goe in _the Divellis_ nam,] Ay quhill I com hom again!” ‘And quhen ve vold be owt of thes shapes, we say: “Catt, catt, (or craw, craw,) [God] send the a blak shott! (or thraw) I wes a catt (or craw) just now, Bot I sal be [in a woman’s liknes evin now.] Catt, catt, (or craw, craw,) God send the a blak shot! (or thraw).” ‘Giff we in the [shape of an catt, an craw, an] haire, or ony uther liknes, &c., go to any of our neighbouris howssis, being Witches, we will [say]: “[I (or we) _conjure_] the Goe with ws (or me)!”