Sailing along the Coast of Finmarken.—Hammerfest, the most Northern Town in the World.—Schools.—Fruholmen, the most Northern Lighthouse in the World.—Among the Sea Lapps.—Men and Women Sailors.
Sailing along the Coast of Finmarken.—Hammerfest, the most Northern Town in the World.—Schools.—Fruholmen, the most Northern Lighthouse in the World.—Among the Sea Lapps.—Men and Women Sailors.
LEAVING the fishing settlement, theRagnild, which I had rejoined, sailed along the rugged and dreary shore of Finmarken, the most northern part of the continent of Europe, passing now and then a solitary fisherman's house, or a settlement hidden from sight, though the stranger would never dream that any human being lived in this land of rocks and desolation.
We next came to Hammerfest, in 70° 40' north latitude, the most northern town in the world. In its commodious port were English, French, Russian, German, Swedish, and Norwegian vessels. Hundreds of fishing boats were there also, waiting for favorable winds to continue their voyage. Steamers were going and coming from the south.
The population was about three thousand souls. There were warehouses owned by rich merchants, a church, a comfortable hotel, good schools where boys and girls can learn French, English, German, Latin and Greek.
The streets were filled with snow. But though so far north there was not a particle of ice in the port, on account of the warm Gulf Stream, though sometimes the thermometer reaches 20 degrees below zero. Often during the winter the mercury stands for consecutive days above the freezing point.
After leaving Hammerfest we sailed towards North Cape. Suddenly I heard one of the sailors on the watch shout, "Light! Light!" "What," said I, "a lighthouse so far north?"
"Yes," replied the captain, who was standing near me; "it is the most northern light on the globe. It is the light on the island of Fruholmen, situated in latitude 71° 5' north." We sailed as far as North Cape, on the island of Magerö, rising majestically to a height of nine hundred and eighty feet above the sea, and in latitude 71° 10'. At the top of the cape there was evidently a gale, for the snow was flying to a great height.
As we were sailing along the shore, I saw some strange-looking weather-beaten logs, covered with barnacles. The captain said to me, "Some of these logs come probably from the coast of South America, from the Amazon and Orinoco rivers; the Gulf Stream has brought them here. It has taken them a long time to reach this place, for they are covered with barnacles."
Instead of doubling North Cape, we sailed through the narrow Magerö Sound which separates the island from the mainland.
"We sailed towards North Cape."
We had hardly entered the sound when I was astonished by the view that met my eyes, for now there were fishing settlements coming suddenly into view, with comfortable, white-painted houses, ships at anchor, glittering churches shining in the sun, and school buildings.
We sailed across the Porsanger Fjord. Far off was Nordkyn, upon the summit of which I had stood. The coast looked dreary indeed! We sailed across Laxe Fjord and doubled Nordkyn.
The following day we entered a fjord and came upon a number of fishing boats that were returning from the open sea. Some of these boats rowed towards us, and soon were alongside of our craft, and we engaged in conversation.
These people appeared very strange; they were dressed like the nomadic Lapps, with the noteworthy exception, however, that the fur of the reindeer skin was on theinsideof their garments. They were Sea Lapps.
I looked at the crews of the boats, and was more astonished still, for some of the boats were partly manned by women, and big girls; other crews were entirely composed of women with a man for captain. One boat was entirely manned by women, the captain included. I could not easily distinguish the men from the women, for the features of the women were coarse from exposure to the storms of the Arctic Sea. They wore reindeer trousers like the men, as indeed do the women of the nomadic Lapps. They rowedquite as well as the men, too. They were distinguishable by their long shaggy hair. It was of a dark chestnut, with a reddish tinge—almost black in some. They wore it hanging over their shoulders. It was indeed a strange sight, and I looked at them with great curiosity, for I had never seen such people before—women who were sailors, some captains of boats, going to sea and braving the storms of the inhospitable ocean.
Captain Petersen said to me: "Almost all these sea Laplanders own their crafts. Some of these are commanded by the husband, while the wife, the daughters, sister or hired woman form the crew; the women are very hardy, and excellent sailors; they pull as hard as strong men, and can use the oar as long as the men do."
The captain was right—for I could not see any difference between their rowing and that of the men as they followed us.
When they learned that I had come to see their land and wanted to live among them, they were glad. They asked my name, and they were told that I was called Paulus.
Then many of these Sea Lapps said:
"Come, Paulus, and stay a few days with us; we will take good care of you;" and pointing to a hamlet at a distance, "there we live, and soon we shall be at home."
Looking towards where they pointed, I saw smoke curling up from strange-looking dwellings. Thesettlement was scattered on the brow of a hill looking down upon the fjord.
As the word went round that I was coming to stay with them, the Sea Lapps made haste and rowed with all their might; the women were especially in earnest, for they wanted to prepare their houses for my reception before I landed. Soon they all were far ahead, and after they had landed I saw them running as fast as they could towards their homes. Evidently they were going to announce my arrival to the people who had remained at home.
Here I parted with theRagnild, which sailed to another fjord for more fish.
A Sea Lapp Hamlet.—Strange Houses.—Their Interiors.—Summer Dress of the Sea Lapps.—Primitive Wooden Cart.—Animals Eat Raw Fish.—I Sleep in a Sea Lapp's House.—they Tell Me to Hurry Southward.
A Sea Lapp Hamlet.—Strange Houses.—Their Interiors.—Summer Dress of the Sea Lapps.—Primitive Wooden Cart.—Animals Eat Raw Fish.—I Sleep in a Sea Lapp's House.—they Tell Me to Hurry Southward.
WHEN I had landed, and ascended the hill towards the settlement, I found myself in a Sea Lapp hamlet. I looked at their dwellings with great curiosity. Some of the buildings were conical and resembled the tent of the nomadic Lapps; but they were built of sod or turf. There were others resembling in shape log houses, with only a ground floor, built entirely of the same material. Others were partly of stone and turf. Some were entirely of stone slabs. Two houses were built of logs.
In the mean time the people had changed their clothes, and wore their summer every-day dress calledvuolpo(though it was still cold), ready to receive me.
Some of these summer dresses were made of coarse vadmal of a gray or blackish color; others were blue. Most were in a ragged state, or patched—having when new been used as Sunday clothes. The men wore square caps of red or blue flannel, and the women had extraordinary looking head-gear resembling casques ofdragoons, on account of the wooden frame under the cloth. These were also red or blue.
"Come in," said one of the Sea Lapps, "come into mygamme(house) and see how I live." His house was of conical shape and built of sod, supported inside by a rough frame formed of branches of trees. A fire was burning in the centre of the hut, the smoke escaping by an aperture above; and upon cross poles hung shoes, boots, and clothing. This sod hut was about twelve feet high and eight feet in diameter. A large kettle hung over the fire. It was filled with seaweed, which was cooking for the cows. I tasted it and found it very palatable and not at all salt.
I was hardly in thisgammewhen I wished myself out, but kept this to myself, for I did not want to hurt the feelings of the poor Lapp. The interior of the place was horribly filthy—dirty reindeer skins lay on the ground upon old dirty dried grass. A tent of a nomadic Lapp was a model of cleanliness compared with this! The outside was just as bad; on the ground lay the entrails and heads of fish, and a couple of barrels filled with half-putrid liver which in time would make a barrel of brown oil; there were a great many codfish heads drying on the rocks.
"Will you stay and have a cup of coffee with us?" my host asked.
"Yes," added his wife, "it will not take long to make a cup of coffee."
"Not to-day," I replied, "but some other time."
"All right," the host said; "don't forget."
I was glad when I got out. This abode was thegammeof a poor Sea Lapp, and the poorest kind of dwelling seen among them.
The next house, which was at a short distance, belonged to the captain of one of the boats which had been alongside of our ship. He and his wife were waiting for me outside and bade me come in. His house was long, narrow, and low, and built entirely of flat stones. I entered through a wooden door a room built in the centre of the house. Their winter garments hung on poles, there was a pile of firewood, and a heap of dry seaweed and reindeer moss.
I followed him to the room on the left. There the family lived. The floor of the room was covered with flat slabs; in one corner was a bed on the floor, itself made of young branches of birch, kept together by logs. The skins that made the rest of the bed were outside to be aired. This room was about ten feet long and about ten feet wide, the whole width of the house, and lighted by a small window with tiny panes of glass.
At the foot of the bed in the corner was a small cow. Such a cow! I had never seen one so small. In the opposite corner was another one. These two cows were hardly three feet high, and between the two were a calf and three sheep. "These animals," said my host, "help us to keep our room warm and comfortable during the winter months."
This was a very strange way of heating a room, I thought to myself.
"Come and stay with us to-night," added the Lapp. "You will sleep comfortably and you will not be cold."
I accepted.
The furniture of the room consisted of some kettles, a coffee pot, coffee grinder, a lamp, and a few chests. Everything, strange to say, was very clean. The third room contained a few nets, and on the floor were a few reindeer skins upon which slept any stranger who chanced to share their dwelling. I was a favored guest. I was to sleep in the same room with the host, hostess, cows and sheep. I was considered as one of the family.
I slept splendidly. In the morning I had water to wash my face with. That was fine! I gave myself a good rubbing with soap, for I said, "Paul, after you leave this place it will be quite a while before you wash your face, except with snow." But I could not as successfully get rid of the odor of the stable, which clung to my clothes with a persistence that would have driven every friend I had away from me if I had been at home.
Not far from thisgammewas the house of another well-to-do Sea Lapp, one of the rich fellows of the hamlet. His house was long and narrow, one part built of logs, the remainder of layers of turf.
The wooden part was the every-day room—parlor, bedroom, kitchen. The roof was supported by poles and covered with birch bark, over which more than a foot of earth had been placed to keep the cold out;the birch bark was used as shingles and kept the rain from dripping inside. Two little cows, two dwarfish oxen, eight sheep, and two goats completed the household, and these were housed in the turf compartment.
Further on I passed a somewhat long and narrow house built entirely of turf, which I also visited, and as I came out of it a very strange sight greeted me. Several people were returning with their dwarfish carts loaded with seaweed; each was drawn by a team of two wretched little oxen not bigger than the cows of the place—that is, not more than three feet in height. Some were driven by women, others by men or children.
These queer-looking small carts were of the same pattern as those used thousands of years ago. The wheels were of a solid block of wood hewn out of the trunk of fir trees, which grow on the banks of some of the fjords, though the land is so far north, owing to the effects of the Gulf Stream. These wheels were of the pattern first made by man, and for thousands of years there had been no improvement; just as in some parts of the world the natives to-day still use the dug-out, or canoe made of the trunk or bark of a tree—the primitive boat of man. The carts were loaded with seaweed, fish, or reindeer moss.
I stayed here several days, and one day I went to see Ole Maja, the nabob of the place. Ole was an old Sea Lapp, who was considered very rich among his neighbors. His house was entirely built of logs, and was much admired by the people. The littleroom had two plain pine-wood beds, a cast-iron stove (the only one in the hamlet), a clock and three wooden chairs. Everything was exceedingly clean. He belonged to the best type of Sea Lapps.
Ole owned a horse, which had a special stable built of turf, and his four cows, two oxen, and twelve sheep were kept in another building. I asked what he wanted a horse for in these high latitudes. He answered: "We use them on the frozen rivers to draw logs." "The hay I gather in summer," he added, "is for him. Horses are very particular, they will not eat the kind of food we give to our cattle, sheep or goats." I did not wonder at this.
I noticed, as there was no snow on the ground, that all the dwellings of the little hamlet had small patches of land round them, which were to be planted with potatoes when warm weather came.
Those who had the best houses wanted me to stay with them, and to avoid making distinctions I agreed to remain with each family one day until I went away. They seemed very much pleased.
I witnessed one day the feeding of the cattle, sheep, and goats. This was a sight! They were to be fed on that day with raw fish cut in pieces, instead of boiled heads of dry cod, or boiled lichen. These pieces of fish were put in large wide wooden pails, the animals were called, and they devoured the contents with great avidity. This amazed me greatly. Just think of cattle feeding on raw fish!
One day found me comfortably settled in agammewhich belonged to Matias Laiti. The chief meal was of reindeer meat and fish,—a boiled head of fresh cod. This is considered the sweetest and nicest part of the fish. A great wooden bowl of milk was given to me. The milk had a queer taste—it had a fishy taste—so had everything else, I thought. I am sure that if the cannibals that were my friends in Africa had been here, and eaten me up, they would have found that I tasted of fish, for I had been living on fish ever so long.
I kept visiting one Sea Lapp and his family after another, and had a good time—living on fish and reindeer meat, for the Sea Lapps own reindeer which are kept for their relations or friends further in the interior. Sea Lapps intermarry much with river Lapps, and also with nomadic Lapps. They form really one family.
On Sunday morning they were dressed in their bestvuolpohead-dresses and garments. These were red, blue and white, with red and yellow bands at the bottom of the skirt. Some had pretty belts, and wore necklaces of large glass beads. The women and men had combed their hair, and it was not to be combed again for a week. They all had washed their faces and hands. One woman wore a pair of blue woollen trousers, fitting tight from the knees to the ankle, had put on a new pair of Lapp shoes, and wore casque-like head-gear, which was blue like her dress and had red seams. The boats were ready to be rowed across the fjord to take them to the church, where service was held once in three weeks. They were all Lutherans.
There were hardly any children in the place. The school was the other side of the fjord by the church. The children were about to return to their parents, for in summer there is no school. All the Swedish-Norwegian Lapps know how to read and write.
One evening as we were talking round a bright fire, one of the Lapps said to me, "Paulus, you have told us that you intend to travel southward by land. If that is so, there is no time to be lost, for the sun is getting more powerful every day, and the snow will soon be in an unfit condition for reindeer to travel on, and the ice over the rivers and lakes will break; besides you are going to have great difficulty in procuring reindeer, for no reindeer can be had at the post stations now. You may be detained on the way, and be obliged to wait until snow has melted and the rivers become navigable. At this time of the year the reindeer are very feeble; it is the worst time to travel with them; they shed their coats and horns and are weak and lean from their winter digging. During the day they feel the heat of the sun, and do not go as fast as during the winter months. So, though we love to have you stay with us, if you want to go you had better hasten your departure. Do not forget to take with you blue or green goggles, for the glare is so intense, on account of the bright sun, you will surely become snow-blind if you have none with you. We are going to send for reindeer, and we will give you a guide to go with you."
The long days come on with remarkable rapidityin this far North. The sun was below the horizon till the latter part of January, and now on the 25th of April in clear weather I could read a newspaper at midnight. There were to be no more nights. The Long Night had been driven away from the pole.
Comparison of Finmarken with Alaska.—The Two Lands Much Alike.—What Must be Done for Alaska.—Colonization.—Importation of Reindeer.—Protection of Fisheries.—Houses of Refuge.
Comparison of Finmarken with Alaska.—The Two Lands Much Alike.—What Must be Done for Alaska.—Colonization.—Importation of Reindeer.—Protection of Fisheries.—Houses of Refuge.
THAT same evening (it has to be called so for the sake of distinction) I stood out on the brow of the hill, looking at the fjord and Arctic Ocean. Suddenly Alaska came to my mind. I remembered all I had seen on the coast of Finmarken, and also all I had encountered and done in "Snow Land", "The Land of the Long Night," and "The Land of the Winds," and I said to myself, "Why should not Alaska have its fishing towns, settlements, and hamlets, like those of Finmarken, and become as prosperous as the country I have travelled through?" There is a wonderful similarity between these two countries; they are both exactly in the same latitudes; they have the same kind of barren coast bathed by a warm stream, and both have fjords.
Alaska has immense shoals of codfish and herring, besides salmon. Both have their long nights, and then long days of Midnight Sun. We must give inducements to the people of Finmarken to come to Alaska. They will find in their new country something similar to the one they have left, they will enjoy thesame life. California and Oregon will provide the people with flour and send them delicacies and products of their state, and take in return the cod and herring. The southern American countries would be a great market for their codfish.
Then I thought that the only way to make Alaska prosperous eventually, is to do exactly what the Swedes and Norwegians have done for their country in the far North. The fisheries must be protected, and the laws regulating them must be enforced. Then, as on the Finmarken coast, towns, hamlets, and fishing settlements will rise in the course of time, and the wealth of the people will come from the fish—their gold from the sea. Then we shall have more American-born sailors to man our ships.
Some of the barren hills of Alaska should be planted with juniper, birch, alder, and with pine and fir and other trees growing in the high altitudes of the mountains of Scandinavia. It will take a good deal of time, but the world was not made in one day. The Scandinavian laws regarding the cutting of trees below a certain size ought to be adopted for Alaska.
Then we must import many reindeer, and establish the same laws in regard to them and their pasture as the Swedes and Norwegians have done. A great many of these reindeer must be broken, and brought up to eat kept reindeer moss. Samoides and Laplanders must be induced to come to Alaska; they know how to take care of the reindeer, they are accustomed to law and order, and they are absolutely honest.
"Yes, indeed, they are honest," I said loudly without knowing it; "for they knew I had money with me, and I have never been afraid of being robbed or murdered. Such thoughts have never entered my head." Then I thought of the good care these kind people took of me when there was danger in travelling.
Wherever there is a little good grazing land, houses and farms of refuge, and post stations where reindeer can be procured, must be built by the government in the interior, so that people can find refuge from the terrific storms that blow over Alaska, and I cannot realize how they could be fiercer than those I had encountered in Finmarken. With reindeer and skees, travelling will become easy, and good distances will be made in a short time.
In summer boat stations must be established along navigable rivers, also a tariff made for distances and for food—so that there be no overcharge—as is done in Sweden, Norway, and Finland.
Little hamlets with the church and the school will rise. Doctors must be sent, and paid a salary by the government; besides a fee must be given by the patient, who will then not call the doctor for a trifle.
Preparations to Leave the Arctic Coast.—Great Danger of Encountering Melting Snow, or Rivers Made Dangerous by the Ice Breaking.—Reindeer Come.—Farewell to the Sea Lapps.—I Leave for more Southern Land.
Preparations to Leave the Arctic Coast.—Great Danger of Encountering Melting Snow, or Rivers Made Dangerous by the Ice Breaking.—Reindeer Come.—Farewell to the Sea Lapps.—I Leave for more Southern Land.
THE advice the Sea Lapps had given me was not to be neglected, and I at once made hasty preparations for my journey southward. There was not one hour or one minute to be lost. I did not want to be caught in the midst of vast tracts of half-melted snow, seven, eight, or ten feet deep, with reindeer unable to travel further; or to drive over rivers and lakes covered with treacherous ice, made the more dangerous by being hidden under the snow—or, worst of all, to find no reindeer to carry me onward; or delayed somewhere, waiting for the snow to melt and the land to become dry and the rivers navigable, for during the time of thaw the country is full of bogs and swamps, and the rivers become in many places but roaring torrents, their waters dashing against huge boulders strewn in their beds, or breaking over them in rapids and pouring cataracts.
My little sleigh, my skees, my bags, and winter outfits were landed, and were before me. I left off my sou'wester and oilskin garments and sea-boots, andI said to them: "We have had rough weather together on this stormy Arctic sea. Henceforth I do not need you any more; I hope you will keep the Sea Lapp to whom I give you as dry as you did me."
Then I donned my Lapp costume once more. Now the fur shoes of winter were unsuitable to travel with, for being porous they are only good to get over dry and crisp snow with. I had to wear henceforth the shoes or boots that are without fur and the leather of which is prepared in such a manner as to be impermeable to water or damp snow. I had provided myself with two pairs of these, while at Haparanda on my way to "The Land of the Long Night," for my return journey,—a short pair, of the shape of the winter shoes, and a pair of boots coming as high as my knees.
One of the Lapps smeared them with a preparation of tar and fat that he used for his own shoes. When they were ready he said: "Now you are all right, no dampness or water will penetrate them," and he gave me some of the stuff to use on my journey, saying, "Rub your shoes every two days with it." I thanked him. Then I put on a new pair of woollen socks. I surrounded my feet with the Lapp grass, and wore my short boots.
While turning over in my mind the mishaps that might come to me on this southward journey, I fancied the same friendly voices I had heard before from across the Atlantic called to me: "Hurry on, Friend Paul! Hurry on! for there is danger in delay;and when your journey is finished come back to us at once."
"I will hurry on," I replied aloud. "Do not be afraid. I will return at once to our dear United States." After this I was more impatient to leave than before. I waited anxiously for the reindeer to arrive.
Henceforth I shall wear only one fur garment, instead of two as I did during my journey northward, for the weather is getting warmer every day. After I was dressed completely I looked affectionately at my little sleigh, for I remembered the many hundreds of miles we had travelled together, what fun I had had, and how hard it was at first to learn to drive reindeer and to keep inside the sleigh, and all the sudden upsettings I had.
Then I looked at my skees, and said: "Dear skees, we are again to tramp over the snow together. I wish I could leap over chasms with you, as the Lapps do. I cannot do that; but we will walk on the snow, and go down hill riding a stick. This will be great fun for me anyhow."
Then I turned to the bags, and I said: "Dear bags, I have often thought of you and how comfortable I was with you." I remembered how cosy I was when I slept in them on the snow. I did not mind how hard the wind blew; the harder it blew the more comfortable I felt inside of them. Near by them was the big brown bearskin, which was safely fastened over me in the sleigh. I said: "Dear bearskin, I think a great deal of you also, for you have been myfriend and have kept my legs so warm when I was driving."
The next morning to my great joy the reindeer came,—one for me, one for my guide, and a spare one; but how differently they looked compared with those I had in the winter. They were thin, and were changing their coats. I did not wonder that the poor reindeer did not look frisky—they had had to work so hard for their living, digging the snow to reach the moss during the whole of the winter.
I looked at the guide the kind Sea Lapps had provided for me. He was the man who had come with the reindeer. His name was Mikel. He was a nomadic Lapp, but had come to visit his sister, who had married a Sea Lapp. He was about four feet eight inches in height, well built, broad shouldered, nimble as a deer, about forty years old, with a face made by the wind as red as a ripe tomato. He lived and pastured his herd of reindeer south of Karesuando.
As we were introduced to each other we shook hands, and I said, "Mikel, we are going to be friends."
"Yes," he replied, "we are to be friends."
Then all the Sea Lapps that were round us shouted with one voice: "Paulus, we are all your friends! Mikel will take good care of you."
"I will," said Mikel. "I will take good care of Paulus." "Thank you, Mikel," I replied. From that moment Mikel and I became fast friends.
An hour after the arrival of the reindeer and after ahearty meal of codfish and black bread we were ready to start.
Before seating myself in the sleigh, I turned my face towards the North Pole and looked at the Arctic Ocean beyond the fjord, and shouted: "Farewell to thee! farewell, tempestuous Arctic Sea! farewell to thy gales! farewell to thy snow and sleet storms. But I am glad I have been through it all, for I have learned something I did not know before. I have gained knowledge about the people and 'The Land of the Long Night.'"
One of the Sea Lapps held my reindeer, and after I was seated another drew my bearskin round me, and made it secure with the cord belonging to my sleigh.
When Mikel saw that I was ready he jumped into his sleigh and we started.
"Good-bye, good-bye, Paulus!" shouted all the Lapps.
"Good-bye, good-bye, dear Sea Lapps!"—I shouted back to them, and the last words I heard were: "Lucky journey, Paulus, come to see us again, come to see us again."
We Enter a Birch Forest.—The Reindeer are Soon Fagged.—Sleep on the Snow.—The Rays of the Sun Melt through the Snow.—Great Difficulty in Travelling.—Meet Herds of Reindeer.—Reindeer Bulls Fight Each Other.
We Enter a Birch Forest.—The Reindeer are Soon Fagged.—Sleep on the Snow.—The Rays of the Sun Melt through the Snow.—Great Difficulty in Travelling.—Meet Herds of Reindeer.—Reindeer Bulls Fight Each Other.
WE entered the birch forest soon after our departure. We had great difficulty in driving among the trees. I was glad our reindeer were not as frisky as in the earlier part of the winter. I could hardly follow the track of Mikel, and sometimes I could not do so at all. I drove sometimes against one tree and then against another, then the boughs of the birch would strike against my face. I had not been five minutes among the birches when I was upset.
At last, losing patience, I shouted to Mikel, "When are we to get out of these birch trees into the open country?" He replied: "We shall reach the river soon."
The snow was not more than three or four or five inches deep at first, but grew gradually deeper as we moved further south. Along the coast of Finmarken the heat of the Gulf Stream prevents it from lying deep on the ground.
That afternoon we reached the Tana river, at a place called Polmak, and sped on over its snow-covered ice.
Seven or eight miles was all that our reindeer could do in an hour, and during the day we had to stop several times to give them rest.
About eleven o'clock we stopped for the night. We spread our bags upon the snow, but we got into one only, for two would have been too warm at this time of the year; and as Mikel and I were ready to disappear in them, I said "Good-night, Mikel," and he replied "Good-night, Paulus."
It snowed during the night, and when we awoke in the morning our bags were covered with it. I did not wonder when I saw this that I had felt so warm during the night.
I was the first to be up. I shook Mikel's bag and shouted to him, "Get up, Mikel," and as his head peeped out of his bag, I said "Good-morning," and he cried "Good-morning, Paulus." Then we took our breakfast. The reindeer, while we were asleep, had dug through the snow to the lichen and fed, and now were quietly resting.
We were soon on the way. As the sun rose higher and higher and its rays grew more powerful, the snow became soft, and the travelling so hard for our reindeer that we had to stop; the thermometer marked 44 degrees in the shade and 80 degrees in the sun. There were sometimes twenty or thirty degrees' difference of temperature during the twenty-four hours, butthe change came so slowly, hour after hour, that I did not notice it.
So we had to stop travelling, and while the reindeer rested we took to our skees and went in search of game, but no foxes or wolves were to be seen. Towards four o'clock in the afternoon the snow began to freeze again, and we again took up our journey. Now the nights have to be turned into days, for we can only travel during the time when the sun is not shining or has not great power.
We travelled without interruption the following day, as the sky was cloudy and the snow was hard. Towards midnight Mikel said: "Our reindeer are tired, we must rest; but we will not sleep more than three or four hours, for we must reach a station where we can procure fresh reindeer."
We unharnessed our reindeer, and tied them with long ropes. When this was done we got into our bags and soon were fast asleep.
At about three o'clock Mikel awoke me, saying, "Paulus, it is about time to go."
"Oh, Mikel," I replied, "let me sleep one hour more, for I need more sleep. I want another snooze."
"There is no time to be lost," he replied; "you will have a snooze later in the day."
So I rubbed my eyes to get fully awake, and washed my face with snow, and felt ready for another start.
That morning the sky was very clear, and after a while the sun shone brightly and the glare on the snow was so great that it would have been impossible totravel without green or blue goggles. I had two pairs with me, in case I should lose or break one by some accident.
On account of the strength of the sun's rays, which melted the snow, we had to stop our travelling by eleven o'clock. Our reindeer were exhausted.
I took my short pair of skees, covered with sealskin, and went ptarmigan hunting. I killed four. The birds had already dropped many of their white feathers, which had been replaced by gray ones. They were getting their summer coats, and would soon be entirely gray.
After killing these I went further, and saw something in the distance moving on the snow. Soon I discovered it was a fox of a peculiar color which I had not seen before. I lay flat on the snow, as the animal was coming in my direction. He was evidently hungry, and was hunting ptarmigans himself. When he came within shooting distance I fired and killed him. He was a white fox, but much of his snowy-white fur had dropped, and was replaced by bluish. I wondered if the change took place for his own protection and advantage. When white he could not be seen so easily by the creatures upon which he preyed, and when bluish he could not be so easily seen as if he had remained white.
When I returned Mikel was stretched on his back on the snow with his arms spread out, and was snoring like a good fellow. Oh, what a noise he made! He had succeeded in frightening our reindeer, which hadmoved away as far as the rope would allow them. I did not wonder that they did not like Mikel's snoring.
After looking at Mikel I stretched myself on the snow, but quite a distance from him, not to be disturbed by his snoring. Now we did not require any masks on our faces, and during the day slept without being obliged to get into our bags.
Soon I fell asleep, and dreamed that I was attacked by a big pack of wolves—I jumped up and looked round, but there were no wolves. I had had the nightmare from sleeping on my back. Mikel was still snoring, and I looked at him and thought I would let him snore a little more.
Towards four o'clock in the afternoon, as it was beginning to freeze again and the snow was fit for travelling, I awoke him. Soon after we started, and we had not driven an hour when we saw a tent in the distance and made for it. The Lapp family who owned it received us with great hospitality. Coffee was made and we were invited to spend the night. I looked forward with great pleasure to the prospect of a good warm meal of reindeer meat and good reindeer broth.
These people were great friends of Mikel, and they agreed to give us some of their reindeer that were not as fagged out as ours. I was delighted.
How I enjoyed the warm reindeer meat and the reindeer broth! It was fine! I was so hungry. After this meal we were presented with a lot of cooked reindeer meat for our journey, and one of the Lapps wasto go with us, for he wanted to see some of his friends further south.
Towards three o'clock in the morning we started. We saw many herds of reindeer—they were moving westward towards the mountains that stretched to the Arctic Sea. It was a grand sight. I saw more than thirty thousand reindeer that day, in herds from one thousand to two or three thousand. The Lapps on their skees, with their dogs, urged the animals onward, and the dogs brought those which were trying to go astray, or lagged behind, into the ranks.
Many of the reindeer had already dropped their horns, and the calving season had begun. How pretty were the tiny baby reindeer; they were put on special sleighs and driven in them, their mothers following, uttering a queer kind of grunt.
The baggage of the family and tents went with them, led by women who carried their young children in their cradles slung on their backs.
Late that day I saw a splendid sight, two herds were approaching each other in opposite directions. The bulls of each herd advanced to charge the others with great fury and began a terrible fight, advancing and retreating, then charging again, butting furiously. The horns of two combatants sometimes became entangled, and it took a long time for them to disengage themselves. Mikel said: "Sometimes they cannot be separated and have to be killed." In the mean time, the Lapps and dogs went after them, and with great trouble they were parted and made to go to their respectiveherds. I noticed, as I went further south, that the twilight was not so bright as it was in the North—for in that northern land, the daylight comes from the direction of the pole.
The darkest part of the day or night was somewhat after eleven o'clockp.m., but even then I could read, and as we travelled only Jupiter and Venus looked at us—no other stars were visible, and towards half-past one these two disappeared, for daylight was so strong; and when the weather was clear after that time only the pale blue sky of the North and its fleecy white clouds were to be seen above our heads. How beautiful it was!
Variable Weather.—Snowy Days.—An Uninhabited House of Refuge.—Animals Changing the Color of their Fur.—Mikel Tells Me about a Bear.—Killing the Bear.—Hurrying on over Soft Snow and Frozen Rivers.—The Ice Begins to Break.—Pass the Arctic Circle.
Variable Weather.—Snowy Days.—An Uninhabited House of Refuge.—Animals Changing the Color of their Fur.—Mikel Tells Me about a Bear.—Killing the Bear.—Hurrying on over Soft Snow and Frozen Rivers.—The Ice Begins to Break.—Pass the Arctic Circle.
ONWARD we went, sleeping one day in the tent of a nomadic Lapp, another day in our bags, at other times in thegammeof a river Lapp. The weather was very changeable; one day it was clear, the next day the sky was gray. Snowy days were not uncommon.
Midway between Nordkyn and Haparanda the snow was of great depth. Only the tops of the birch trees could be seen, and strange to say the branches were in bloom, for the trees felt the heat of the sun, and the snow had prevented the freezing of the ground to a great depth. The snow must have been eight or ten feet deep in some regions.
When we reached the summit of the plateau, the watershed that divided the rivers falling into the Arctic Sea and the Baltic, the weather was very stormy. Though it was the 13th of May, we met a furious snowstorm. This was dangerous for us, and Mikel attached my sleigh to his by a long rope, so that we might not become separated. The snowstorm seemed,however, to give new strength to the reindeer, and they went faster than usual, and besides the cold weather we had had the two previous days—the thermometer marking 15 to 18 degrees of frost—had evidently invigorated them. For a while there was a lull in the storm, and we were glad when we came to a house of refuge.
The house was small and uninhabited, but clean inside. Some food was hanging from the ceiling, belonging to some Lapp or some wanderer like ourselves, who had left it to have it on his return journey. The food was sacred and safe. No one would have dared to touch it, no matter how hungry he was, for it did not belong to him, and the one who had left it perhaps depended upon it to sustain his life on his return. We peeped into the parcel—there was some hard bread, reindeer cheese, and a smoked reindeer tongue, a coffee kettle and some coffee, and a few small pieces of wood tied together, to make a fire to cook the coffee with. This was one of those houses of refuge used only for shelter, without people to keep them, built especially by the government for that purpose, in case of sudden storm.
After a while I went out for a walk on my skees, to stretch my legs, for I had been more than ten hours seated in my sleigh. I took my gun with me. Soon I spied some hares, and succeeded in killing two. These were also changing their fur coats; much of their fur was gray, and mixed with white; the hares were to be gray during the summer months. As white was theirprotection in winter against big white owls, foxes, and other animals, so their gray color would protect them against their enemies in summer.
"Strange indeed is nature," I said to myself. "In some cases the animals change their fur so that they can approach their prey without being seen; in other cases nature changes their fur to protect them against their enemies."
When I returned I saw that Mikel had prepared our supper. He had fetched some firewood he had in his sleigh, and a bright fire was burning under our coffee kettle. Reindeer meat, tongue, and reindeer cheese had been put on a wooden dish, and two tin cups were ready for the coffee to be poured into them. We seated ourselves cross-legged on the floor, and began our meal. What a nice cup of coffee we had! How deliciously it tasted! How good was our coarse hard black bread and our reindeer cheese, and smoked reindeer tongue!
After we had drunk our coffee and eaten our supper I noticed that Mikel was very silent and thoughtful. I wondered if he was thinking of dangers ahead—of the sudden stopping of our journey,—and just as I was on the point of asking him why he was so thoughtful he broke the silence himself and said: "Paulus, I know where there is a big brown bear—a real big fellow. The Bear's Night is not over with him yet, and he must be still sleeping under the snow at the place where I saw him last autumn getting ready to go into his winter quarters."
"You don't say so, Mikel!" I exclaimed. "Is the bear sleeping near where we are?"
"Not so very near," he replied with a twinkle in his eye. "A few hours will bring us to his place."
He saw by my looks that I was ready to go after the bear. It was just what he wished. So he continued: "Paulus, shall we go and kill the bear, before he awakes and goes into the mountains and forests to commit his depredations,—for after his long fast he will be very hungry—and are you willing to lose two or three days and run the risk of having our journey come to an end?"
When I heard this, I forgot all about the ice cracking over the streams and lakes, about the snow melting and preventing people from travelling. "Yes, Mikel," I replied, "let us go after the bear. Afterwards we will travel as fast as we can and take very little sleep; perhaps we shall have luck and the weather may be colder than usual for a while."
"All right," replied Mikel; "we will go after the bear."
"Mikel," said I "before we stretch ourselves on the floor and go to sleep, tell me how you know that the bear is at the spot you suppose and that he is spending his winter night there."
Mikel took a big pinch of snuff and replied: "Paulus, I think I am the only one, that knows where this bear is sleeping, for I have kept it a secret. I hope no other person knows where he is, for I wanthis skin. Besides I shall get a premium in money if we kill him."
Then he added: "One day last fall as I was hunting for ptarmigans I saw in the distance a huge brown bear walking about and getting ready for his winter quarters. I knew that he was seeking his winter lodgings, because he was going round and round a big cluster of pines before entering it. I watched! After a a while he disappeared among the pines and I saw no more of him. I knew that if he were not disturbed or frightened away he would stay there. The bear assuredly had seen the place during the summer and thought it was a good one for his long sleep. This bear knew that a big snowstorm was coming, and he was not mistaken, for that night snow fell very heavily and the storm lasted two days.
"The Bear's Night will soon be over in this region," Mikel continued, "and at any moment this bear may awaken, break through the snow that is over him, and go away. Perhaps he is already gone. At this time of the year the slightest noise will arouse a bear, for by this time he has ceased to sleep soundly."
Then he added: "We have had very little sleep since we left the coast, Paulus; we need a good rest before we go after the bear."
"Yes," said I, "my eyes ache for want of a good long sleep."
We stretched ourselves on the earth floor, and soon after I heard the snoring of Mikel. He was aninveterate snorer,—I thought the champion snorer of all those I ever had met.
I could not go to sleep, though I was so tired. I turned first on one side, then on the other, then lay on my back. I was much excited, for I thought of the big brown bear and of the hunt that was before us. At last I fell asleep. Suddenly I was awakened by a shaking of Mikel, and as I opened my eyes he said, "Paulus, what is the matter? You have been shouting."
I was in a profuse perspiration. I had again had nightmare from lying on my back. I was fighting with a big bear which had seized me, and we were wrestling and I was getting the worst of it, and when ready to fall down in his grasp I had given a big scream.
After our breakfast that morning, Mikel said: "We must go and tell some of the folks who live in a little hamlet not far from here to come with us."
"What do you call not far from here?" I asked.
I had begun to know what "not far" meant with the Lapps. "Two hours' travel, or about fifteen miles," he replied. "I have friends there."
Before leaving the little house of refuge Mikel swept the floor, and made it as clean as we had found it—for it is the custom of the people to do this before they leave.
We then started eastward, and after two hours' travelling we came to a few farms and entered a house. Mikel told the people about the bear. The newssoon spread and there was much excitement. During the day preparations were made for the hunt.
The next morning men gathered, taking their guns and big long sticks, with pikes at the ends to prod the bear with; and all the dogs of the place followed us. Many men started on their skees, others in their sleighs. According to Mikel the bear was about thirty miles away.
I was full of enthusiasm, and longed to come face to face with the big brown bear of northern Europe.
About three hours after, we stopped. All the people took counsel together and spoke in low voices. Then Mikel, pointing out to me a big cluster of trees, said, "Paulus, the bear is there."
Slowly we made for the spot, and then entered the grove, and went in different directions seeking for the bear's winter quarters. Soon after we saw a heap of snow, or little hillock, that covered evidently some boulders piled on the top of each other or a cluster of fallen broken pine trees.
We looked at each other and pointed towards the spot—we knew that the bear was under the snow there. Mikel whispered to me, "The bear sleeps under that hillock of snow."
We surrounded the place, then on a sudden we shouted and made a terrific noise. Two or three of the men fired their guns, the dogs barked furiously.