The Legend of the White Reindeer 
learned that the grass on the sun side of a rock 
is sweet, and though it looks the same in the 
dark hollows, it is there worthless. He learned 
that when his mother’s hoofs crackled he must 
be up and moving, and when all the herd’s 
hoofs crackled there was danger, and he must 
keep by his mother’s side. For this crackling 
is like the whistling of a Whistler Duck’s wings: 
it is to keep the kinds together. He learned 
that where the little Bomuldblomster hangs its 
cotton tufts is dangerous bog; that the harsh 
cackle of the Ptarmigan means that close at 
hand are Eagles, as dangerous for Fawn as for 
Bird. He learned that the little troll-berries are 
deadly, that when the verra-flies come stinging 
he must take refuge on a snow-patch, and that of 
all animal smells only that of his mother was to 
be fully trusted. Helearned that he was growing. 
His flat calf sides and big joints were changing 
to the full barrel and clean limbs of the Yearling, 
and the little bumps which began to show on 
his head when he was only a fortnight old were 
now sharp, hard spikes that could win in fight. 
More than once they had smelt that dreaded 
destroyer of the north that men call the Gjerv 
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