188 A SPRING AND SUMMER IN LAPLAND. 



there the tracts became so mixed. Although hard 

 hit (for we came upon many places in the swamps 

 where she had lain down to cool herself, and left 

 great patches of blood behind her), she was clearly 

 not mortally wounded ; and when we came to a 

 fallen tree about four feet high, which lay across 

 the track, and saw where she had scrambled over, 

 one of the old watchers remarked to me, " this 

 won't be an hour's job ;" and he was right. Tired 

 and disappointed, when we lost the trail we made 

 for a neighbouring cottage. I am certain we all 

 would have gladly bivouacked under the nearest 

 pine and waited till the first light of morning to 

 try and recover the lost trail ; but we had no pro- 

 visions, as we had fully depended upon breakfasting 

 at the keeper's house after the first drive, on fried 

 charr and probably an elk's liver. None of us had 

 tasted a mouthful since 5 a.m. — we were, there- 

 fore, glad enough to reach the cottage; and 

 although we got nothing but herrings and potatoes 

 for supper, I don't think I ever relished a meal 

 more in my life. 



There was but one room in the house, and 

 this not a very large one. I was, therefore, 

 anxious to see how they would manage to bed us 

 all up ; for the household consisted of man and 

 wife, two children, two men servants, two maids, 

 an itinerant shoemaker, and a taciturn old gen- 



