70 A SPRING AND SUMMER IN LAPLAND. 



whole way up. The next morning was mild but 

 hazy. The loud, hoarse cackle of the ripa was 

 heard in every wood, and the Siberian jay was 

 now our constant companion. Spring was evi- 

 dently fast setting in. When we left in the morn- 

 ing I saw something indistinctly looming in front 

 of us, in the distant horizon, which I at first took 

 to be huge masses of cloud, but my driver, point- 

 ing with his whip, exclaimed, "There are the 

 fells !" Just now the mist cleared away, and the 

 distant snowfells gradually became more distinct, 

 rising above each other like huge billows of ice 

 upon a frozen sea I now felt that I was in Lap- 

 land ; that I had realized the heartfelt wish of 

 years ; and that I had at length reached a country 

 possessing more attractions to the naturalist than 

 perhaps any other in Europe. The nearer we 

 approached Quickiock the grander became the 

 scenery ; and now Waldi Speken — the highest fell 

 in this range — towered many hundred feet above 

 the rest, like an enormous sugar-loaf. It was 

 perhaps the sudden manner in which these fells 

 appeared to burst upon the view that added much 

 to the grandeur ; and I will fairly confess that, for 

 once in my life, reality far exceeded anticipation. 



No steeple-chase rider ever looked more 

 anxiously over the course which he is about to 

 cross than my lad and myself did over the country 



