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CHAPTER II. 
REINDEER-STALKING; IN RYFYLKE. 
“ There’s many a Slip.” 
Amidst rude boulders which formed a primitive pier, 
lay scattered our belongings—-bundles of bedding, 
baggage, preserved provisions, etc.—while the last link 
with the world, the steam-launch we had chartered to 
convey us to this remote ^pot, was disappearing behind 
a pine-clad promontory. By the shore stood huts, and, 
hitched to them, our two pack-animals—cream-coloured 
ponies, shapely as zebras, yet docile withal. There, 
too, stood our stalkers, men we had engaged before¬ 
hand ; but we knew not which was which, and neither 
party spoke the other’s tongue. Such perplexities, 
however, are but momentary; the brotherhood of 
sportsmen bridges the gulf, and soon we are all busied 
with ropes and running-gear, making fast the loads on 
horse-back by cunningly-contrived cleats and willow- 
woven frames. To the latter the various packages 
were secured by merciless straps and loops, double¬ 
burtons, and diamond-hitches. “ Rough on dress-coats,” 
groaned W. ; but it was useless to repine, and the 
cavalcade was under way. 
Our destination was a log-hut, situate three Norsk 
