You might have thought there had been mud in the cloud they came from, which had turned them all a dark grey.

How the little ones did enjoy it, spurring their horses with suppressed laughter, and urging us on lest the old witch should hear and overtake us! But it was hard work for one of the horses, and that was myself.

Turkey scudded away with his load, and made nothing of it; but wee Davie pulled so hard with his little arms round my neck, especially when he was bobbing up and down to urge me on, half in delight, half in terror, that he nearly choked me; while if I went one foot off the scarcely beaten path, I sunk deep in the fresh snow.
"Doe on, doe on, Yanal!" cried Davie; and Yanal did his very best, but was only halfway to the farm, when Turkey came bounding back to take Davie from him.

In a few moments we had shaken the snow off our shoes and off Davie's back, and stood around Kirsty's "booful baze", as Davie called the fire.

Kirsty seated herself on one side with Davie on her lap, and we three got our chairs as near her as we could, with Turkey, as the valiant man of the party, farthest from the centre of safety, namely Kirsty, who was at the same time to be the source of all the delightful horror.