Chapter 24 THE LOST FOLK'S ACRE

It was a high day and a holiday at the Bothy of the Wild of Blairmore-a high day though a short one-one of the shortest of all the year, though by this time it was well into January. But that made little difference on our misty moors. There the frozen sea-fog bound us and the wind, when there was one, stung extraordinarily bitter.

Sea-fog breeze