THE JOURNEY UP. 47 



gigantic six-barred gate, about twenty feet high. 

 We now began to see fire-places in all the cow- 

 byres ; and on this day I noticed the last goose- 

 berry tree, which appeared to grow further north 

 in the gardens than any other fruit. The country 

 appeared to be well peopled, and the peasants well 

 fed and clothed. At a little village, called Aksta, 

 we passed by the most curious little church I ever 

 saw, and close by it a house, with, I am sure, as 

 many windows in it as there are days in the year. 

 The last twelve miles of our journey, this day, lay 

 over a bay by the side of the Bothnia ; and it was 

 here that we saw the first drove of reindeer. There 

 were about 400 of them, attended by a Lap 

 •family, all on " skiddor," or snow-skates ; and they 

 were seeking pasture. Their little sledges, spears 

 - — in fact, all their worldly gear — were piled up 

 together on the ice. The men were wild, gipsy- 

 looking fellows, by no means so small as I had 

 expected to see. They formed altogether a wild, 

 picturesque group, which I longed for an artist's 

 talent to depict. They told us to hurry on, for 

 the reindeer were fast heading to the fells — a sure 

 sign that spring was at hand. This was by far 

 the worst night we were out in, for we faced a 

 cutting north-east wind, and the drifting snow 

 nearly blinded us. By midnight we reached our 

 night-quarters, at a little place called Hornas, so 



