Publisher's Synopsis
Next morning Davie Tait was early astir, and not having any thing better to do, he took his plaid and staff and set out towards Whithope-head, to see what was become of his five scores of ewes, the poor remains of a good stock. Davie went slowly up the brae towards Riskinhope-swire, for the events of last night were fresh in his mind, and he was conning a new prayer to suit some other great emergency; for Davie began to think that by fervent prayer very great things might be accomplished-that perhaps the floods might be restrained from coming down, and the storms of the air from descending; and that even the Piper Hill, or the Hermon Law, might be removed out of its place. This last, however, was rather a doubtful point to be attained, even by prayer through the best grounded faith, for, saving the places where they already stood, there was no room for them elsewhere in the country. He had, however, his eye fixed on a little green gair before him, where he was determined to try his influence with heaven once more; for his heart was lifted up, as he afterwards confessed, and he was hasting to that little gair to kneel down and ask a miracle, nothing doubting.
