Better. " "If there is to be no throat-cutting to warm the blood maybe we had better push on to the bothy gentlemen. I'm fain niddered [perishing] with the cold. This Highland mist goes to the marrow " I suggested merrily and linking arms with them I moved forward. In ten minutes we had a roaring fire ablaze and were washing down with usquebaugh the last trace of unkindness. After we had eaten our bannocks and brose we lay in the shine of the flame and revelled in the blessed heat listening to the... read more
