WE entered the birch forest soon after our departure. We had great difficulty in driving among the trees. I was glad our reindeer were not as frisky as in the earlier part of the winter. I could hardly follow the track of Mikel, and sometimes I could not do so at all. I drove sometimes against one tree and then against another, then the boughs of the birch would strike against my face. I had not been five minutes among the birches when I was upset.

At last, losing patience, I shouted to Mikel, "When are we to get out of these birch trees into the open country?" He replied: "We shall reach the river soon."

The snow was not more than three or four or five inches deep at first, but grew gradually deeper as we moved further south. Along the coast of Finmarken the heat of the Gulf Stream prevents it from lying deep on the ground.

That afternoon we reached the Tana river, at a place called Polmak, and sped on over its snow-covered ice.

Seven or eight miles was all that our reindeer could do in an hour, and during the day we had to stop several times to give them rest.

About eleven o'clock we stopped for the night. We spread our bags upon the snow, but we got into one only, for two would have been too warm at this time of the year; and as Mikel and I were ready to disappear in them, I said "Good-night, Mikel," and he replied "Good-night, Paulus."

It snowed during the night, and when we awoke in the morning our bags were covered with it. I did not wonder when I saw this that I had felt so warm during the night.

I was the first to be up. I shook Mikel's bag and shouted to him, "Get up, Mikel," and as his head peeped out of his bag, I said "Good-morning," and he cried "Good-morning, Paulus." Then we took our breakfast. The reindeer, while we were asleep, had dug through the snow to the lichen and fed, and now were quietly resting.

We were soon on the way. As the sun rose higher and higher and its rays grew more powerful, the snow became soft, and the travelling so hard for our reindeer that we had to stop; the thermometer marked 44 degrees in the shade and 80 degrees in the sun. There were sometimes twenty or thirty degrees' difference of temperature during the twenty-four hours, but the change came so slowly, hour after hour, that I did not notice it.

So we had to stop travelling, and while the reindeer rested we took to our skees and went in search of game, but no foxes or wolves were to be seen. Towards four o'clock in the afternoon the snow began to freeze again, and we again took up our journey. Now the nights have to be turned into days, for we can only travel during the time when the sun is not shining or has not great power.

We travelled without interruption the following day, as the sky was cloudy and the snow was hard. Towards midnight Mikel said: "Our reindeer are tired, we must rest; but we will not sleep more than three or four hours, for we must reach a station where we can procure fresh reindeer."

We unharnessed our reindeer, and tied them with long ropes. When this was done we got into our bags and soon were fast asleep.

At about three o'clock Mikel awoke me, saying, "Paulus, it is about time to go."

"Oh, Mikel," I replied, "let me sleep one hour more, for I need more sleep. I want another snooze."

"There is no time to be lost," he replied; "you will have a snooze later in the day."

So I rubbed my eyes to get fully awake, and washed my face with snow, and felt ready for another start.

That morning the sky was very clear, and after a while the sun shone brightly and the glare on the snow was so great that it would have been impossible to travel without green or blue goggles. I had two pairs with me, in case I should lose or break one by some accident.

On account of the strength of the sun's rays, which melted the snow, we had to stop our travelling by eleven o'clock. Our reindeer were exhausted.

I took my short pair of skees, covered with sealskin, and went ptarmigan hunting. I killed four. The birds had already dropped many of their white feathers, which had been replaced by gray ones. They were getting their summer coats, and would soon be entirely gray.

After killing these I went further, and saw something in the distance moving on the snow. Soon I discovered it was a fox of a peculiar color which I had not seen before. I lay flat on the snow, as the animal was coming in my direction. He was evidently hungry, and was hunting ptarmigans himself. When he came within shooting distance I fired and killed him. He was a white fox, but much of his snowy-white fur had dropped, and was replaced by bluish. I wondered if the change took place for his own protection and advantage. When white he could not be seen so easily by the creatures upon which he preyed, and when bluish he could not be so easily seen as if he had remained white.

When I returned Mikel was stretched on his back on the snow with his arms spread out, and was snoring like a good fellow. Oh, what a noise he made! He had succeeded in frightening our reindeer, which had moved away as far as the rope would allow them. I did not wonder that they did not like Mikel's snoring.

After looking at Mikel I stretched myself on the snow, but quite a distance from him, not to be disturbed by his snoring. Now we did not require any masks on our faces, and during the day slept without being obliged to get into our bags.

Soon I fell asleep, and dreamed that I was attacked by a big pack of wolves—I jumped up and looked round, but there were no wolves. I had had the nightmare from sleeping on my back. Mikel was still snoring, and I looked at him and thought I would let him snore a little more.

Towards four o'clock in the afternoon, as it was beginning to freeze again and the snow was fit for travelling, I awoke him. Soon after we started, and we had not driven an hour when we saw a tent in the distance and made for it. The Lapp family who owned it received us with great hospitality. Coffee was made and we were invited to spend the night. I looked forward with great pleasure to the prospect of a good warm meal of reindeer meat and good reindeer broth.

These people were great friends of Mikel, and they agreed to give us some of their reindeer that were not as fagged out as ours. I was delighted.

How I enjoyed the warm reindeer meat and the reindeer broth! It was fine! I was so hungry. After this meal we were presented with a lot of cooked reindeer meat for our journey, and one of the Lapps was to go with us, for he wanted to see some of his friends further south.

Towards three o'clock in the morning we started. We saw many herds of reindeer—they were moving westward towards the mountains that stretched to the Arctic Sea. It was a grand sight. I saw more than thirty thousand reindeer that day, in herds from one thousand to two or three thousand. The Lapps on their skees, with their dogs, urged the animals onward, and the dogs brought those which were trying to go astray, or lagged behind, into the ranks.

Many of the reindeer had already dropped their horns, and the calving season had begun. How pretty were the tiny baby reindeer; they were put on special sleighs and driven in them, their mothers following, uttering a queer kind of grunt.

The baggage of the family and tents went with them, led by women who carried their young children in their cradles slung on their backs.

Late that day I saw a splendid sight, two herds were approaching each other in opposite directions. The bulls of each herd advanced to charge the others with great fury and began a terrible fight, advancing and retreating, then charging again, butting furiously. The horns of two combatants sometimes became entangled, and it took a long time for them to disengage themselves. Mikel said: "Sometimes they cannot be separated and have to be killed." In the mean time, the Lapps and dogs went after them, and with great trouble they were parted and made to go to their respective herds. I noticed, as I went further south, that the twilight was not so bright as it was in the North—for in that northern land, the daylight comes from the direction of the pole.

The darkest part of the day or night was somewhat after eleven o'clock p.m., but even then I could read, and as we travelled only Jupiter and Venus looked at us—no other stars were visible, and towards half-past one these two disappeared, for daylight was so strong; and when the weather was clear after that time only the pale blue sky of the North and its fleecy white clouds were to be seen above our heads. How beautiful it was!