784 The Zoologist— June, 1^67. 



A Reindeer Hunt. By \V. D. Crotch, Esq., M.A., Oxon et Cantab. 



We dwelt in a "bod" on the banks of Gjendins-Osen, Anders and 

 Thor and I ; but perhaps I wrong my readers in presuming their know- 

 ledge of the situation of Gjendin or the significance of an " osen" or a 

 "bod" — non cuivis may slill be applicable to lat. 61° 25', long. 9° E., 

 and Gjendin is a lake so situated, whose outlet into Skjoan River is 

 called an "osen," and a "bod" is an abode of the genus hut, species 

 Norsk : the elevation is over 3000 feet, the month was August, the 

 year 1866. We had an object in view in thus selecting a habitation 

 forty-two miles from any village, which object will be best indicated by 

 the contents of our " bod," viz. a long Enfield (I wish it had been 

 short), a double-barrelled rifle by Wilkinson, a Norsk Government 

 breech-loader and a double-shot gun; also a setter and retriever; a 

 butterfly-net, sweeping-net and accessories ; two rods and a sketch- 

 book ; a waiting-maid, " Trondjems Aquavit," and tobacco; also coffee 

 and other appurtenances of the inner man. Thus reindeer, willow 

 grouse, ptarmigan, hares, &c, trout, butterflies, bugs, beetles, scenery 

 and sketches, and even something beyond "good digestion" to "wait 

 on appetite," when fatigue was too lazy to cook dinner, may be con- 

 sidered as among the attractions commanded by this our "bod" at 

 Gjendin. The summer days had at length commenced to abandon 

 their objectionable habit of remaining up all night, so that we were 

 enabled to distinguish breakfast from supper, and to use the term 

 " to-morrow " with some degree of propriety. Accurately, then, to- 

 morrow we would go "paa ren's jagt," as Anders remarked, leaving 

 our light-handed Phillis (her name was Rangnild) to prepare savoury 

 messes for our possibly empty-handed return. Ren had been seen, 

 through a glass distantly on Brurskard, so, when the evening red had 

 shaded through gray into the yellow tints of morning, we drank the 

 inevitable coffee and started for the high fjeld. But, oh ! those abomin- 

 able matutinal coffee drams, destructive alike of appetite and wind ! 

 What can that man do, be his resolution never so heroic, whose bedroom 

 is invaded by the richest cream, the whitest sugar and the blackest coffee 

 with quaint cakes, borne by a smiling damsel in indescribable costume ? 

 a man of passage may perhaps partake and be thankful ; a sojourner, 

 unless regardless alike of body and soul, had better bolt his door, crede 

 experto. Such reflections accompanied me at least for a portion of 

 our path by the lake of Leirungen, whereon many ducks floated up 



