The reindeer may fairly be called the ox of these countries, and not
the horse, as some people have called him. He does not possess either
the noble temper or the docility of the latter animal. When the snow
is deep and the roads are difficult, if the reindeer be pressed to
exert himself, he becomes restive and stubborn, and neither beating
nor coaxing will move him. He will lie down and remain in one spot
for several hours, until hunger presses him forward; and if, at the
second attempt, he is again embarrassed, he will lie down and perish
in the snow for want of food.
A Karaikee related to me the story of a keeper whose herd was
dispersed in that way, but who, by very great exertions, after four
or five days, collected them together again. However, he found he had
wandered far beyond his usual haunts, and lost his way, so that he
remained and roamed about with his herd nearly two years before he
had the good fortune to meet with any of the Reindeer Karaikees.
We had now arrived at the last Karaikee ostrog on that coast, and it
became necessary to direct our course to Kammina, across the moors,
for two hundred and fifty versts, where there was scarcely a forest,
much less a hut, to afford us shelter from the weather, should it
prove bad again.
Here I separated from my friends, the Toyune of Evashka and the
Prince Zachar, with real regret, for they had behaved to me with the
kindness of brothers. On parting Zachar observed to me, “You are too
late in the season; but you must do the best you can. I therefore
advise you, even though the distance will be greater, to follow, as
much as possible, the course of the creeks and rivers. There you will
find shelter should a poorga commence; but on the moors, at this late
period, it is very dangerous.”