A memorial of Death by Exhaustion on the Lowther Hills.
_By the_
_AUTHOR of "GOD'S TREASURE HOUSE IN SCOTLAND."_
_Janet Miller left her service at Kirkhope on Wednesday the 3rd
January, 1877, instead of Friday the 12th, as previously arranged, on
a visit home, to be present at the marriage of her sister. The day
was so stormy, and the roads so full of snow wreaths, that the
carter, with whom she should have gone, could proceed no further than
Leadhills that night._
_It is considered to be ten miles between Kirkhope and Leadhills--a
dreary, steep, and rough mountain, without any very distinct path,
and that which is traversed was obliterated by the snow. Still, she
had passed the Lowther heights (upwards of 2300 feet) in safety,
descended and crossed the Shortcleuch water, and the fence, ascending
the rough side of the only ridge which separates this valley from the
village, and without deviating from the track, exhaustion and death
overtook her within twenty minutes' or half an hour s walk of home._
_A shepherd's Wife, returning from a funeral on the following Tuesday
afternoon, discovered her body. Little thought she that the very day
fixed for her home-coming would be her funeral day. Obtaining leave
sooner than expected, unfortunately, instead of coming by the road
with company as advised, she resolved to take the hill. Though urged
to go early, she delayed; though warned of the coming storm and night
by more than one friendly voice, still onwards and upwards she
pressed. She knew the hills and the paths: she was young and strong,
and how much would her happiness be enhanced by gaining home that
night; and then, the morrow and the month, how full of joy! So
bravely on she struggled, battling with the blinding drift, till her
strength was gone--quite gone. Then gently she laid her down to
sleep. It was her last on earth; and the cold snow-drift gathered
quickly over and formed her winding-sheet, hiding her body from human
eye for well-nigh a week. Her bonnet and parcels were found in the
bottom of a fallen-in shaft, up to the edge of which she had climbed.
With shawl drawn over her head, cloak tucked in about her, and her
cheek laid upon her hand, there she sought a rest which proved to be
her last on earth._
Leadhills village bell had ceas'd,
Mourners from the graveyard pass'd
To the lonely shepherd's cot.
Jeanie then--her dismal lot--
Walking lonely up the glen,
Thinking of those in heav'n--When!
A form lay sleeping!--A form lay sleeping!
A form lay sleeping! Yea--_in death!_
Hand 'neath head upon the heath.
When carried--and buried--lamented--
Lowther winds wail'd--story presented:--
"Daurna tarry--I maun hame,
Though I clim' the hills my lane.
Mirk the day, an' heich the win',
Oot ow'r the muir I'll brawly rin,
Speel the Lowthers like a grew,
Wade the burn--hame safely through."
"Na! my lassie, dinna gae,
Far ow'r short this winter's day.
Hear ye no' the sough o' storm
Howlin' roun' Glenucher's horn?
Bide ye, lass, in Kirkhope biel,
Fair the morn, the hills ye'll spiel."
"Daurna tarry--I maun hame,
Aft the hills I've clim'd alane.
Sister's marriage--ken ye no'?--
Comes e'er lang, sae I maun go.
Fareweel, Kirkhope's freenly ha',
Fleetch nae mair--I maun gae wa'."
"Weel, my lass, on hame sae set,
Cart an' road, an' hame ye'll get,
Sun's ow'r laigh to tak' the hill;
Wi' sna' the heuchs an' hags 'ill fill.
Ne'er to get the len'th o' hame--
Death wad cry ilk day, me blame."
"Daurna tarry--I maun hame,
Langer stey! 'twad be a shame!
Roun' the road, or ow'r the hill,
Hame this nicht I've set my will.
Noo I'm aff, the month t' spen'.
Crawford Muir, gude-bye till then."
* * * * * *
"Over muir and vale she sped,
As if Elfin feet her tread.
Pass'd the river, cross'd the road,
Where a shepherd's cottage stood.
He concern'd, thrice urged her stay,
Mountain scale another day.
"See the storm, it's gatherin' fast,
Strong men couldna stan' that blast.
Shelter tak', an' I'll convoy
Oot ow'er hills wi' muckle joy,
The morn's morn as sune's it's licht.
Stey wi's noo. It's a'maist nicht.
"Fifteen fouk, an' mair they say,
Lost the life, e'er break o' day,
Amang thae hills. Sae may ye
Fa doon, warsle till ye dee.
Tak' ye advice; stey here the nicht;
Mornin' sun may shine fu' bricht."
"Daurna tarry--I maun hame.
Dinna bid me!--I'm gaun hame.
Young an' yaul, I'm no' sae fleyd,
Warsle through baith win' an' tide;
Stan' the snifter ow'r the hill--
Lovin' herts wi' joy to thrill."
"Blew fierce snow-drift. Almost gone,
On she struggled, bravely on;
Paus'd to take a breath of air;
Step by step cross'd over where
Lowthers wore their winter's sheet;
Down-hill, blinded with the sleet.
"Daurna tarry--I maun hame,"
'Twas on heart her upmost theme.
"Burn! ye roar fu' lood an' baul';
An' oh! yer water's dreedfu' caul'.
Ventur' maun I, an' get through,
Should ye swell frae bank to broo.
"Wae's me! Waded aft this burn,
Ne'er till noo felt sic a turn!
Think I'll faint--I'm unco wauff!
Water! then, gi'es ae bit quaff.
Raether better!--Noo--I'll try:
Fence an' hill 'll sune be by.
"Daurna tarry--I'm gaun hame!
Thocht gi'es stren'th, though I feel lame.
Wae's me!--What's come ow'r me noo?
Up maun dim' this scraggy broo--
Hech!--That blast is unco keen;
Bannet canna noo be seen.
"Daurna tarry!--Yes--I maun!
Lay me doon for this weak dwaum.
Shawl my heid 'ill shelter gi'e;
Claes keep warm!--Come-to a wee!
Daurna tarry!--Wish 'twere sae--
Faether!--Mither!--Sister!--Wae!
"Whaur am I?--On caul' hillside!
Maun I here--"Hoo lang--abide?
Faether, in the heav'ns hie,
Think, for Jesus' sake, on me.
Deein' though I'm, a' my lane--
Daurna tarry--I'll get hame!
"Daurna tarry--I _maun_ hame!
Aeh! Hoo _my_ hert lang'd for hame.
Hame on earth's nae mair for me;
'Mang the sna' I'm gaun to dee.
Freen's, 'O leave them no' alane!'
Daurna tarry--'Bring them hame.'
"Noo sleep I maun! an' this caul' sna'
Cleer win'in'-sheet roon' me will bla'."
* * * * * *
Almost a week her body lay,
The grave its home--home-coming day.