THE JOURNEY UP. 39 



enough, and our baggage rode well, for the sledges 

 were large ; and to exchange this for the shaking 

 of the peasant's cart was not a pleasant prospect. 

 However, luckily, a heavy fall of snow came on in 

 the night, and next morning on waking we had 

 the satisfaction of seeing a deep snow cover all 

 the road, and we sledged out of the town in 

 triumph. We were now on the straight high 

 road to Lapland, but with above 600 dreary miles 

 between us and Lulea. 



The day was dull, the wind a cutting north- 

 easter, and glad enough was I when, about six in 

 the evening, we drove up to the door of the 

 excellent " Gast Gifure Gard" at Mo-Myske, after 

 a short day's work of only forty miles. But we 

 had had quite enough of it ; and even had day- 

 light served us, I could hardly have passed by 

 this comfortable inn, which in appearance, appoint- 

 ment, and accommodation more nearly approached 

 one of the jolly old roadside English inns of our 

 youthful coaching days than I have seen out of 

 England. We had this day passed through a flat 

 but rather pretty country, and by the roadside I 

 remarked two of the neatest new-built churches I 

 have ever seen in Sweden. But at this time of 

 the year a man does not travel in search of the 

 picturesque; the same dull monotony pervades 

 the whole landscape, and the traveller may well be 



