The Legend of the White Reindeer 
power to carry them out, and with the fate of 
Norway in his hands, Borgrevinck was made 
secure in the sled, behind the White Storbuk, 
and sped at dawn on his errand of desola- 
tion. 
At the word from Sveggum the White Ren 
set off with a couple of bounds that threw 
Borgrevinck back in the pulk. This angered 
him, but he swallowed his wrath on seeing that 
it left the horse-sleigh behind. He shook the 
line, shouted, and the Buk settled down to a 
long, swinging trot. His broad hoofs clicked 
double at every stride. His nostrils, out level, 
puffed steady blasts of steam in the frosty 
morning as he settled to his pace. The pulk’s 
prow cut two long shears of snow, that swirled 
up over man and sled till all were white. And 
the great ox-eyes of the King Ren blazed joy- 
ously in the delight of motion, and of conquest 
too, as the sound of the horse-bells faded far 
behind. 
Even masterful Borgrevinck could not but 
mark with pleasure the noble creature that had 
balked him last night and now was lending its 
speed to his purpose; for it was his intention 
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