THE JOURNEY UP. 51 



and bitter than ever I remember it, and. coming 

 from the ISLE., we had it right in our teeth. But 

 we had a good sign that mild weather was at 

 hand, in the blackcock, which sat perched in the 

 birch-trees by the roadside, and would scarcely 

 fly away, although we drove close by them, very 

 different from their wild habits, when they are 

 waiting for cold. I saw two woodlarks fly over, 

 and I observed a .sparrow with a straw in his 

 beak, evidently nesting. The country was barren, 

 the woods stunted, and the landscape wore the 

 same monotonous aspect throughout the whole 

 day. At a small road- side station we got three 

 cups of coffee and a large basin of warm bread- 

 and-milk (the very best thing to travel on in cold 

 weather), for 4d. In the afternoon we passed 

 through Umea, a little, dirty old town, with a 

 remarkably fine white church, and the largest 

 prison I have seen in the north. I take it, neither 

 are ever full. We had now above 150 dreary 

 miles before us ere we reached the next town, 

 Pitea. We pushed on this day, and did our 

 seventy miles, for the roads were getting bad, 

 and I was much afraid that the frost was break- 

 ing up. In fact, many of the little trout streams 

 which we crossed were open in places ; and I 

 must say, often, when we were sledging over the 

 ice, I felt very ill at ease ; for the ice always begins 



