132 A SPRING- AND SUMMER IN LAPLAND. 



droppings when disturbed, and so do bears ; men 

 are, however, neither bears nor blackcock. But 

 to my tale. 



On I struggled, gradually becoming weaker 

 and weaker, till my foot struck against some 

 obstacle, which soon brought me up. It was a 

 sunken fence (the snowdrift here just reached my 

 waistcoat-pocket), and I am sure that it took 

 me a quarter of an hour to clear it. I was 

 fairly beaten, and as I sunk on the snow I 

 thought, as old Dick Christian says in one 

 of his lectures, "I wor dun now. 55 My gloves 

 had frozen as stiff as icicles. The cold seemed 

 eating into my very marrow. My feet, not- 

 withstanding all the exertions I was making, 

 were completely paralyzed, and appeared to 

 hang on my legs like two lumps of lead ; more- 

 over, they felt as if they had swelled to double 

 their natural size ; my boots, which had frozen 

 as hard as iron, held them like two vices, and 

 the pain was dreadful. My senses seemed going ; 

 I was becoming light-headed, and when I rose 

 again (for I dare not lie long) I reeled like a 

 drunken man. A kind of languid indifference 

 was now stealing over me ; I seemed to care 

 little for life, and, although I was determined 

 not to sink as long as I could flounder on, 

 all probability of my now holding out till morn- 



