A REINDEER RIDE THROUGH LAPLAND. 27 



The close and disagreeable atmosphere soon drove 

 us from the room, but it took some time to dispel 

 the unconquerable feeling of melancholy which the 

 visit had engendered. 



On our reindeer-skin couches, and covered with 

 rugs and furs, it was not long before we were utterly 

 oblivious of all around us, though the dead silence 

 outside was occasionally broken by the stamp or 

 bleat of the deer, or the shrill cry of their watchers, 

 which, under ordinary circumstances, could not fail 

 to have aroused us. Thus passed gradually our 

 second night on the fjeld. 



Refreshed by our healthful sleep, we walked out 

 into the beautiful morning. Heedless of the cold, 

 we watched the sparkling ice-crystals as they floated 

 like gossamer on the rarefied air, slowly covering us 

 with a thin layer like sparkling brilliants. In spite, 

 however, of the poetry of our surroundings, the lower 

 nature, strong in all of us, began to assert itself, 

 and the welcome smell of coffee led us into the hut, 

 where it and hot rolls formed, to our hungry palates, 

 an unsurpassable breakfast. 



We had now only about thirty miles between us 

 and the fjeld town we were to visit, and as the 

 road lay chiefly downhill, we anticipated covering 

 the distance in about four hours. There is little to 

 relate of this day's journey. The weather was cold 

 but delightful. The fore (that is, the state of the 

 way) was all that could be desired. A few miles 



