‘[Whan] we wold lay the wind, we dry the ragg, and say [thryse ower]:
‘“We lay the wind in the Divellis name,
[It sall not] ryse quhill we lyk to rease it again!”
‘And if the wind will not lye instantlie [after we say this] we call wpon owr Spirit, and say to him:
‘“Thieffe! Thieffe! conjure the wind, and caws it to [lye ...]”
‘We haw no power of rain, bot ve will rease the wind quhan ve pleas.—He maid us beliew [...] that ther wes no God besyd him.
‘As for Elf-arrow-heidis, the Diuell shapes them with his awin hand, and syne deliueris thame to Elf-boyes, who whyttis and dightis[73] them with a sharp thing lyk a paking neidle; bot [quhan I was in Elfland?] I saw them whytting and dighting them. Quhan I wes in the Elfes howssis, they will haw werie ... them whytting and dighting: and the Diwell giwes them to ws, each of ws so many, quhen.... Thes that dightis thaim ar litle ones, holow, and boss baked![74] They speak gowstie[75] lyk. Quhen the Divell giwes them to ws, he sayes:
‘“Shoot thes in my name,
And they sall not goe heall hame!”
‘And quhan we shoot these arrowes we say:
‘“I shoot yon man in the Divellis name,
He sall not win heall hame!
And this sal be alswa trw;
Thair sall not be an bit of him on lieiw.”[76]
‘We haw no bow to shoot with, but spang[77] them from the naillis of our thowmbes. Som tymes we will misse, bot if thay twitch[78] be it beast, or man, or woman, it will kill, tho’ they haid an jack[79] wpon them. Qwhen we goe in the shape of an haire, we say thryse owr: