Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 12

A frozen wilderness stretches beneath a bruised sky, where endless sheets of snow swallow the land and the wind howls like a living thing. The icy lake mirrors the bleak horizon, and the dense pine‑lined shore offers no sign of human habitation—only the stark, silent promise of isolation. In this unforgiving backdrop, two figures press forward on a dog‑drawn sled, their breath visible in the bitter air.

The travelers, one wrapped in a dark Indian blanket and the other in a rugged Scottish plaid, are bound together by a shared need to survive. Their exhausted bodies fight the cold as they race toward a solitary log‑house, the only hope of shelter against the night’s chill. As the sled creaks to a halt and the dogs bark in the surrounding woods, the men must summon every ounce of courage to kindle a fire and stave off the darkness that threatens to consume them.