ON leaving Karasjok I travelled northward, over the frozen Karasjoki, until I came to a broad stream called the Tana. As we drove on the river I saw here and there solitary farms and strange little hamlets inhabited by river Lapps.

The occupation of the river Lapps is largely salmon catching in summer. These fish are very abundant in the rivers. Many, during the codfish season, engage themselves as sailors on the Arctic Sea. Almost every family has a small farm, stocked with diminutive cows; besides they have sheep and goats. During the summer their reindeer are taken care of by the nomadic Lapps. These reindeer have to go to the mountains near the Arctic Sea, on account of the mosquitoes.

Now travelling was becoming very hard,—not on account of the snow, but because the inhabitants and their dwellings were so dirty.

But I had one comfort. All over that far northern land I felt so safe; it never came into my head that these people would rob me, though they knew I had plenty of money with me, according to their ways of thinking, to pay for reindeer and other travelling expenses; but the Finns and the Lapps are a God-fearing people.

The first day, I came to a place occupied by a single man. The house was so filthy, and vermin apparently so plentiful, that I whispered to my Lapp guide, "Let us go on." The Lapp was so tired that he looked at me with astonishment, and seemed to say: "Are not these comfortable quarters?"

We got into our sleighs, however, and further on we stopped and tied our reindeer together. The Lapp slept in his sleigh covered with a reindeer skin, and I in my bag.

The next day we halted before a farm. It was dark. There we intended to spend the night. The people do not lock their doors, neither do they knock to obtain admittance. So we entered. The family were all in bed. A man lighted a light. Such filth I thought I had never seen. The beds were filled with dirty hay that had been there all winter. The sheepskin blankets with the wool on were almost as black as soot. The people who slept between them were without a particle of clothes. "What a place for vermin!" I whispered to myself.

At this sight, I again said in a low voice to my Lapp, "Let us go on." He replied, "The reindeer are hungry, and we have had no food ourselves for long hours. Let us remain overnight and breakfast here to-morrow."

In the mean time the owner of the place got up, put on a long dirty woolen shirt, and went with us into the next room, which was clean. I gave a sigh of relief. The wooden bed had no hay, no sheepskin blankets. The man got for me a clean reindeer skin which he said had just come out of the open air, where it had been for several days.

To my consternation my Lapp guide offered to sleep alongside of me, and added, "We shall be warmer if we sleep together." I was in a dilemma. I did not want to offend him, but I told him that I always slept by myself. Then the owner of the place spread another reindeer skin on the floor, and my guide slept upon it.

The next morning we breakfasted on dried reindeer meat, hard bread, and milk. After bidding our host good-bye, and thanking him for his hospitality, we continued our journey, arriving towards noon at a farm owned by a river Lapp. The farm had three buildings; only the wife and daughter were at home. The husband was cod fishing in the Arctic Sea. The wife told me she had been a sailor before she was married, and engaged in cod fishing.

There were on this farm three diminutive cows, an ox of the size of the cows, nine sheep, and they owned besides quite a number of reindeer. The cows were getting smaller and smaller as I went north. In the little dwelling-house was a small room for a stranger; reindeer skins made the mattress. My guide and I ate together. We had excellent coffee, smoked reindeer meat, and milk.

Further on we stopped awhile at a little farm owned by a woman and her daughter. The mother and daughter worked as if they were men; they fished for salmon in the river in summer, mowed hay, collected reindeer moss to feed their cows, went after wood. A faithful dog was their companion. At some seasons the daughter descended the river, and engaged herself as one of the crew on board of a fishing boat on the Arctic Ocean.

Resuming our journey we passed the church hamlet of Utsjoki. Near Utsjoki I met some nomadic Lapps, who had a large herd of reindeer with them, and were willing to take me to Nordkyn. That night I slept in their tent. Early the next morning they lassoed some very fine reindeer, which had superb horns and had not been used for quite a while. I did not care now how fast the reindeer went, for I could keep inside of my sleigh. The men said: "We will meet on the promontory Lapps with their reindeer herds, and if it is very stormy we can go into their tent."

Soon after we started.

They were not mistaken in regard to the speed of their beasts. They set off at a furious pace, and it was all I could do to keep inside of my sleigh. My pride was up, and I was bound to do my utmost not to upset.

We finally reached the high promontory which divides the Laxe from the Tana fjord, at the extremity of which is Nordkyn. It was blowing a gale right from the north, and we had to protect our faces with our masks. Fortunately we came to a Lapp encampment, and were received with great kindness and hospitality; enjoyed a good meal of reindeer meat, and a good sleep afterwards.

The next morning the weather was fine, and I drove on to Kjorgosk Njarg—hard name to pronounce—the most northern land in Europe.

The land's end was nearing, and erelong I stood on the edge of Cape Nordkyn, 71° 6' 50"—the most northern end of the continent of Europe, and rising majestically over seven hundred feet above the level of the sea. Before me was the Arctic Ocean, and beyond, a long way off and unseen by me, was the impenetrable wall of ice which the Long Night had built to guard the Pole.

From there I could see North Cape.