‘There was one winter, my second, when the hunting had been really bad. You’d not believe the lengths they went to, to find food. They’ve got a whole library of desperation measures you’ve not had to see. The sheep were a godsend for them.’ She shook her head. ‘There was this one hunter – I couldn’t understand much of what they said then, so I got this in retrospect – but she went to this hill every day, sat out there and starved, and the rest obviously thought she was mad, or whatever passes for mad with them. But she was remembering – they have their stories, and the stories are often tied
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