The Shepherd's Calendar. Volume I (of II)Hogg, James
General
The Shepherd's Calendar. Volume I (of II)
Hogg, James
Country life -- Fiction; Pastoral fiction; Rural poor -- Fiction; Scotland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Shepherds -- Fiction
From the moment that the first thunder-bolt shot from the cloud, the
countenance of the farmer was changed. He was manifestly alarmed in no
ordinary degree; and when the flood came rushing from the dry
mountains, and took away his sheep and his folds before his eyes, he
became as a dead man, making no effort to save his store, or to give
directions how it might be done. He ran away in a cowering posture, as
he had been standing, and took shelter in a little green hollow, out
of his servants' view.
The thunder came nearer and nearer the place where the astonished
hinds were, till at length they perceived the bolts of flame striking
the earth around them, in every direction; at one time tearing up its
bosom, and at another splintering the rocks. Robin Johnston, in
describing it, said, that "the thunnerbolts came shimmering out o'
the cludd sae thick, that they appeared to be linkit thegither, and
fleeing in a' directions. There war some o' them blue, some o' them
red, and some o' them like the colour o' the lowe of a candle; some o'
them diving into the earth, and some o' them springing up out o' the
earth and darting into the heaven." I cannot vouch for the truth of
this, but I am sure my informer thought it true, or he would not have
told it; and he said farther, that when old Maxwell saw it, he
cried--"Fie, tak care, cubs o' hell! fie, tak care! cower laigh, and
sit sicker; for your auld dam is aboon ye, and aneath ye, and a' round
about ye. O for a good wat nurse to spean ye, like John Adamson's
lambs! Ha, ha, ha!"--The lambs, it must be observed, had been turned
out of the fold at first, and none of them perished with their dams.
But just when the storm was at the height, and apparently passing the
bounds ever witnessed in these northern climes; when the embroiled
elements were in the state of hottest convulsion, and when our little
pastoral group were every moment expecting the next to be their last,
all at once a lovely "blue bore," fringed with downy gold, opened in
the cloud behind, and in five minutes more the sun again appeared, and
all was beauty and serenity. What a contrast to the scene so lately
witnessed!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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