44 A SPRING AND SUMMER IN LAPLAND. 



the whole way up was about as monotonous as 

 can well be imagined. The last stage into Sunds- 

 wall was two and a half Swedish miles, nearly the 

 whole way over ice, on a bight in the Bothnia ; 

 and of all the trotters I ever sat behind in Sweden, 

 I think the little mare that I had for this stage 

 was the best. She was a little, scratching, lop- 

 eared, vicious-looking thing, with a mouth like 

 iron, and the peasant who drove me said it was 

 no use trying to hold her ; so, wrapping the rope 

 reins round his wrist, he just let her go her own 

 pace. Having no watch I could not time her, 

 but, when we reached Sundswall, I looked at the 

 clock, and our second sledge came in just three- 

 quarters of an hour after us, and yet she upset us 

 three times on the road 1 However, a roll in the 

 snow breaks no bones, for, as the old song has it, 



" There's more to be feared from a slip on the green, 

 Than a fall on a frozen river." 



I am certain we must have done the distance well 

 under the hour, and this with a mare which no 

 one in England, to buy her by her looks, would 

 have given a five-pound note for. The chap who 

 drove me said that he would willingly take 7 

 for her. 



When we got to Sundswall she was neither 

 "sick nor sorry;" he never took her from the 

 sledge, but let her stand and pick a bit of hay 



