o more possible to guess the points of the compass than in mid-ocean.
It was easy to conceive of being bewildered and overwhelmed within a rod of one's own door.
The tempest lasted only an hour; but if it had lasted a week, we should have had such a storm as occurred on the steppes of Kirgheez in Siberia, in 1827, destroying two hundred and eighty thousand five hundred horses.
thirty thousand four hundred cattle, a million sheep, and ten thousand camels,—or as the thirteen drifty days, in 1620, which killed nine-tenths of all the sheep in the South of Scotland.
On Eskdale Moor, out of twenty thousand only forty-five were left alive, and the shepherds everywhere built up huge, semicircular walls of the dead creatures, to afford shelter to the living till the gale should end. But the most remarkable narrative of a snow-storm which I have ever seen was that written by James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, in record of one which took place January 24, 1790.
James Hogg at this time belo