One of the oldest "odd" people with which we are acquainted are the Laps
or Laplanders. For many centuries the more civilised nations of Europe
have listened to strange accounts, told by travellers of these strange
people; many of these accounts being exaggerated, and others totally
untrue. Some of the old travellers, being misled by the deer-skin
dresses worn by the Laps, believed, or endeavoured to make others
believe, that they were born with hairy skins like wild beasts; and one
traveller represented that they had only a single eye, and that in the
middle of the breast! This very absurd conception about a one-eyed
people gained credit, even so late as the time of Sir Walter Raleigh,--
with this difference, that the locality of these gentry with the odd
"optic" was South America instead of Northern Europe.
In the case of the poor Laplander, not the slightest exaggeration is
needed to render him an interesting study, either to the student of
ethnology, or to the merely curious reader. He needs neither the odd
eye nor the hairy pelt. In his personal appearance, dress, dwelling,
mode of occupation, and subsistence, he is so different from almost
every other tribe or nation of people, as to furnish ample matter for a
monograph at once unique and amusing.
I shall not stay to inquire whence originated this odd specimen of
humanity. Such speculations are more suited to those so-called
_learned_ ethnologists, who, resembling the anatomists in other branches
of natural history, delight to deal in the mere pedantry of science,--
who, from the mere coincidence of a few words, can prove that two
peoples utterly unlike have sprung from a common source: precisely as
Monsieur Cuvier, by the examination of a single tooth, has proved that a
rabbit was a rhinoceros!
I shall not, therefore, waste time in this way, in hunting up the origin
of the miserable Laplander; nor does it matter much where he sprang
from. He either came from somewhere else, or was created in Lapland,--
one of the two; and I defy all the philosophers in creation to say
which: since there is no account extant of when he first arrived in that
cold northern land,--not a word to contradict the idea of his having
been there since the first creation of the human race. We find him
there _now_; and that is all that we have to do with his origin at
present. Were we to speculate, as to what races are kindred to him, and
to which he bears the greatest resemblance, we should say that he was of
either the same or similar origin with the Esquimaux of North America,
the Greenlanders of Greenland, and the Samoeids, Tuski, and other tribes
dwelling along the northern shores of Asia. Among all these nations of
little men, there is a very great similarity, both in personal
appearance and habits of life; but it would not be safe to say that they
all came from one common stock. The resemblances may be the result of a
similarity in the circumstances, by which they are surrounded. As for
language,--so much relied upon by the _scientific_ ethnologist,--there
could scarce be a more unreliable guide. The black negro of Carolina,
the fair blue-eyed Saxon, and the red-skinned, red-polled Hibernian, all
speak one language; the descendants of all three, thousands of years
hence, will speak the same,--perhaps when they are widely scattered
apart,--and the superficial philosopher of those future times will, no
doubt, ascribe to them all one common origin!
Language, of itself, is no _proof_ of the natural affinities of two
peoples. It is evidence of their once having been in juxtaposition,--
not much more. Of course when other points correspond, similarity of
speech becomes a valuable corroboration. It is not our purpose, then,
to inquire whence the Laplander came,--only _where_ he is now, and
_what_ he is now. Where is he now?
If you take your map of Europe, and draw a line from the Gulf of
Kandalax, in the White Sea, to the middle of the Loffoden Isles, on the
Norwegian coast, you will cut off the country which is now properly
called Lapland. The country at present inhabited by the people called
Laplanders, will be found north of this line. It is a boundary more
imaginary than real: for in truth there is no political division known
as Lapland, nor has there been for hundreds of years. It is said there
once was a kingdom of Lapland, and a nation of Laplanders; but there is
no proof that either one or the other ever existed. There was a
peculiar people, whom we now style Laplanders, scattered over the whole
northern part of the Scandinavian peninsula, and wandering as far south
as the shores of the Gulf of Bothnia; but, that this people had ever any
general compact, or union, deserving the name of government or nation,
there is no proof. There is no evidence that they ever enjoyed a higher
degree of civilisation than they do at present; and that is not one iota
higher than exists among the Esquimaux of North America,--
notwithstanding the advantage which the Laplander has in the
domestication of a ruminating quadruped and a knowledge of the Christian
religion.
The tract of country which I have above assigned to the modern
Laplander, is to be regarded rather as meaning that portion of Northern
Europe, which can scarcely be said to be in the occupation of any other
people. True Laplanders may be found dwelling, or rather wandering,
much to the south of the line here indicated,--almost to the head of the
Bothnian Gulf,--but in these southern districts, he no longer has the
range clear to himself. The Finn--a creature of a very different kind--
here meets him; constantly encroaching as a colonist on that territory
which once belonged to the Laplander alone.
It becomes necessary to say a few words about the names we are using:
since a perfect chaos of confusion has arisen among travellers and
writers, in relation to the nomenclature of these two people,--the Finns
and the Laplanders.
In the first place, then, there is in reality no such a people as
Laplanders in Northern Europe. The word is a mere geographical
invention, or "synonyme," if you wish. The people to whom we apply the
name, call themselves "Samlash." The Danes and Norwegians term them
"_Finns_;" and the Swedes and Russians style them "_Laps_." The people
whom _we_ know as Finns--and who are not Laplanders in any sense--have
received the appellation of Finns erroneously. These Finns have for a
long period been making progress, as colonists, in the territory once
occupied by the true Finns, or Laplanders; and have nothing in common
with these last people. They are agriculturists, and dwell in fixed
settlements; not pastoral and nomadic, as the Laplanders eminently are.
Besides, there are many other essential points of difference between the
two,--in mind,--in personal appearance, in habits, in almost everything.
I am particular upon this point,--because the wrong application of the
name _Finns_, to this last-mentioned race, has led writers into a world
of error; and descriptions given of them and their habits have been
applied to the people who are the subjects of the present chapter,--
leading, of course, to the most erroneous conclusions. It would be like
exhibiting the picture of a Caffre as the likeness of a Hottentot or
Bushman!
The Finns, as geography now designates them,--and which also assigns to
them a country called Finland,--are, therefore, not Finns at all.
Where, they are found in the old Lapland territory as colonists, they
are called _Quans_; and this name is given them alike by Russians,
Swedes, Danes, and Norwegians.
To return to our Laplanders, who are the true Finns. I have said that
they are called by different names; by the Danes and Norwegians "Finns,"
and by the Russians and Swedes simply "Laps." No known meaning is
attached to either name; nor can it be discovered at what period either
came into use. Enough to know that these are the designations by which
they are now known to those four nations who have had chiefly to deal
with them.
Since these people have received so many appellations,--and especially
one that leads to much confusion,--perhaps it is better, for geography's
sake, to accept the error: to leave the _new_ Finns to their usurped
title, and to give the old Finns that distinctive name by which they are
best known to the world, viz _Laplanders_. So long as it is remembered,
that this is merely a geographical title, no harm can result from
employing it; and should the word _Finns_ occur hereafter, it is to be
considered as meaning not the Finns of Norwegian Finmark, but the Quans
of Finland, on the Gulf of Bothnia.
I have spoken of the country of the Laplanders, as if they _had_ a
country. They have not. There is a territory in which they dwell; but
it is not theirs. Long, long ago the lordship of the soil was taken
from them; and divided between three powerful neighbours. Russia took
her largest slice from the east; Sweden fell in for its southern part;
and Norway claimed that northern and western portion, lying along the
Atlantic and Arctic Oceans. This afterwards became the property of
Denmark: when Norway herself ceased to be independent.
The country, therefore, which I have defined as Lapland, in modern times
is so styled, merely because it is almost exclusively occupied by these
people: it not being worth the while of their Danish, Swedish, or
Russian masters to colonise it. All three, however, claim their share
of it,--have their regular boundary lines,--and each mulcts the
miserable Laplander of an annual tribute, in the shape of a small
poll-tax. Each, too, has _forced_ his own peculiar views of
Christianity on those within his borders,--the Russian has shaped the
Lap into a Greek Christian; while, under Swedish influence, he is a
disciple of Martin Luther. His faith, however, is not very rational,
one way or the other; and, in out-of-the-way corners of his chaotic
country, he still adheres to some of his old mythic customs of sorcery
and witchcraft: in other words, he is a "pagan."
Before proceeding to describe the Laplander, either personally or
intellectually, a word about the country in which he dwells. I have
called it a _chaotic_ land. It has been described as a "huge congeries
of frightful rocks and stupendous mountains, with many pleasant valleys,
watered by an infinite number of rivulets, that run into the rivers and
lakes." Some of the lakes are of large extent, containing a countless
number of islands; one alone--the Lake Enaro--having so many, that it
has been said no Laplander has lived long enough to visit each
particular island. There is a great variety in the surface of the land.
In some parts of the country the eye rests only on peaks and ridges of
bleak, barren mountains,--on summits covered with never-melting snow,--
on bold, rocky cliffs or wooded slopes, where only the firs and birches
can flourish. In other parts there are dusky forests of pines,
intersected here and there by wide morasses or bogs. Elsewhere, are
extensive tracts of treeless champaign, covered with the white
reindeer-lichen, as if they were under a fall of snow!
During summer there are many green and beautiful spots, where even the
rose sheds its fragrance around, and many berry-bearing bushes blossom
brightly; but the summer is of short duration, and in those parts where
it is most attractive, the pest of gnats, mosquitoes, and gadflies,
renders the country uninhabitable to the Laplander. We shall see
presently, that, in the summer months, he flees from such lowland
scenes, as from a pestilence; and betakes himself and his herd to the
bleak, barren mountains.
Having given this short sketch of the country inhabited by the
Laplander, we proceed to a description of himself.
He is short,--not more than five feet five inches, average height,--
squat and stoutish,--rarely corpulent,--though there is a difference in
all these respects, between those who inhabit different parts of the
country. The Laps of Norwegian Lapland are taller than those in the
Russian and Swedish territory.
His features are small, his eyes elongated, or slit-like, as among the
Mongolian tribes; his cheek-bones prominent,--his mouth large and wide,
and his chin sharply-pointed. His hair is black, or sometimes brownish;
though among some tribes settled along the coasts light hair is not
uncommon. It is probable that this may have originated in some
admixture of blood with Norwegian, Russian, and other fishermen who
frequent these coasts.
The Laplander has little or no beard; and in this respect he resembles
the Greenlander and Esquimaux. His body is ill-made, bony and muscular,
and stronger than would be expected from his pigmy stature. He is
active, and capable of enduring extreme fatigue and privation; though it
is a mistake to suppose that he is the agile creature he has been
represented,--this error arising no doubt from the surprising speed with
which habit has enabled him to skate over the frozen snow; and which, to
a person unused to it, would appear to prove an extraordinary degree of
agility. The hands and feet are small,--another point in common with
the Esquimaux. The Laplander's voice is far from being a manly one. On
the contrary, it is of small compass, weak, and of a squeaking tone.
The complexion of the Laplander is generally regarded as _dark_. Its
natural hue is perhaps not much darker than that of the Norwegian.
Certainly not darker than many Portuguese or Spaniards; but, as he is
seen, he appears as swarth as an Indian. This, however, arises from the
long and almost constant exposure to smoke: in the midst of which the
miserable creature spends more than half of his time.
It may again be observed, that those dwelling on the seashore are of
lighter complexion; but perhaps that is also due to a foreign admixture.
We have given a picture of the Laplander's person; now a word or two
about his mind.
Both his intellectual and moral man are peculiar,--even more so than his
physical,--differing essentially from that of all the other
nationalities with which he is brought in contact. He is cold-hearted,
selfish, and morose. To love he is almost a stranger; and when such a
feeling does exist within his bosom, it is rather as a spark than a
passion. His courtship and marriage are pure matters of business,--
rarely having any other motive than self-interest. One woman will do
for his wife wife as well as another; and better, if she be richer by
half a dozen reindeer!
Hospitality is a virtue equally unknown to him. He wishes to see no
stranger; and even wonders why a stranger should stray into his wild,
bleak country. He is ever suspicious of the traveller through his land;
unless that traveller chance to come in the guise of a Russian or
Norwegian merchant, to exchange strong brandy for his reindeer-skins, or
the furs of the animals he may have trapped. In his dealings he
exhibits a sufficient degree of cunning,--much more than might be
expected from the low standard of his intellect; and he will take no
paper-money or any kind of "scrip" in exchange. This caution, however,
he has acquired from a terrible experience, which he once had in dealing
with paper-money; and he is determined that the folly shall never again
be repeated. Even in _his_ out-of-the-way corner of the globe, there
was at one time a bank speculation of the "Anglo-Bengalee" character, of
which the poor Lap was made an especial victim.
He has no courage whatever. He will not resist oppression. The
stranger--Russ or Norwegian--may strike, kick, or cuff him,--he will not
return the blow. Belike he will burst into tears!
And yet, under some circumstances, he shows a feeling akin to courage.
He is cool in moments of danger from the elements, or when opposed to
fierce animals, as the wolf or the bear. He is also capable of enduring
fatigue to an extreme degree; and it is known historically that he was
once warlike,--at least much more so than at present. _Now_, there is
not a drop of warrior blood in his veins. On the contrary, he is timid
and pacific, and rarely quarrels. He carries constantly upon his person
a long ugly knife, of Norwegian manufacture; but he has never been known
to draw it,--never known to commit murder with it.
These are certainly virtues; but it is to be feared that with him they
owe their origin to timidity and the dread of consequences. Now and
then he has a quarrel with one of his fellows; but the knife is never
used; and the "punishment" consists in giving and receiving various
kicks, scratches, pullings of the hair and ears: genuine blows, however,
are not attempted, and the long knife never leaves its sheath.
In the olden time he was a great believer in witches; in fact, noted for
his faith in sorcery. Christianity, such as it is, has done much to
eradicate this belief; but he is still troubled with a host of
superstitions.
Of filial and parental affection his stock is but scanty. The son
shifts for himself, as soon as he is able to do so; and but little
anxiety is exhibited about him afterwards. The daughter goes to the
highest bidder,--to him who is most liberal in presents of brandy to the
parent. Jealousy is little known. How could it be felt, where there is
no love?
One of the worst vices of the Laplander is his fondness for drink,--
amounting almost to a passion. It is one of his costliest, too: since
he often consumes the produce of his industry in its indulgence. His
favourite beverage is strong, bad brandy,--a staple article kept by the
traders, to exchange for the commodities which the country affords. As
these men care little for the result, and have a far greater influence
over the Laplander than either the government officials, or the lazy,
timeserving missionaries, it is not probable that temperance will ever
be introduced among these wretched people. Fortunately, only the coast
Laplanders are at all times subject to this influence. The mountain
people or those who dwell most of their time in the interior, are too
distant from the "tap" to be so grievously affected by it. It is only
on their short annual visits to the merchant stations on the coast, that
they fall extensively into the jaws of this degrading vice.
The dress of the Laplander is now to be described.
The men wear on their heads tall caps, of a conical form, usually of a
cloth called _wadmal_, or some species of kersey furnished by the
merchants. This cap has a tassel at top, and around the bottom is
turned up several inches,--where it is strengthened by a band of
reindeer-skin, or the fur of the otter. The coat is a loose garment or
frock: made of the skin of the reindeer, with the hairy side out, and
fastened around the waist with a broad leathern belt.
In this belt is stuck the pointed knife, and a pouch or two, for pipe,
tobacco, and spoon, are also suspended from it. Breeches of
reindeer-skin--the hide of the young fawns--reach to the ankles; and
buskins, or rather stockings, of the same material cover the feet.
These are gartered over the ends of the breeches, in such a way that no
snow can get in; and since there is neither shirt nor drawers worn, we
have given every article of a Laplander's dress. No. There are the
gloves, or mittens, which must not be forgotten,--as they are one of the
things most essential to his comfort. These are also the universal
deer-hide.
Simple as is this dress of the Lapland men, it is not more simple than
that of the Lapland women, since both one and the other are exactly
alike. A slight difference is observable in the shape of the bonnet;
but for the rest, the lady wears the deer-skin frock, the breeches, and
boots,--and like her liege lord, she scorns to include linen in her
wardrobe. This plain dress, however, is the everyday _winter_ costume.
The summer one, and especially upon grand occasions, is somewhat
different, and altogether gayer. The shape is much the same; but the
tunic or frock is of cloth, sometimes plain, coarse _wadmal_; but in the
case of the richer proprietors, of fine coloured cloth,--even scarlet
being sometimes worn. No matter what the quality of the cloth, however,
the trimmings are always of rich, bright-coloured stuffs; and consist of
bands or cords around the skirt, sleeves, and collar, elaborately
stitched by the females,--who are in all cases the tailors. The
leathern belt, worn with this dress, is loaded with ornaments,--little
square and triangular plates of brass or white metal, and often of
heavy, solid silver. The belt is an esteemed article,--as much so as
his wampum to a North-American savage,--and it requires a large sum to
tempt a Laplander to part with the precious equipment. A finer cap is
also worn, on these summer and holiday occasions. Not unfrequently,
however, the Laplander--especially the mountain Lap--sticks to his
deer-skin coat, the _paesk_, through all weathers, and throughout all
seasons,--when it is too hot simply taking off the belt, and leaving the
flaps loose and open. In cold weather, and especially when riding in
his sledge, an additional garment is worn. This is a fur "tippet,"
which covers his shoulders down to the elbows. It is made from the
shaggy skin of the brown bear,--with the claws left on and hanging down
in front of the breast.
Before proceeding to describe the mode of life and occupation of the
Laplander, it is necessary to state that all of the people known as
Laplanders, are not occupied alike. On the contrary, they may be
separated into three distinct classes, according to the lives which they
lead; and it is absolutely necessary to make this classification in the
illustration of their habits. They are all alike in race and national
characteristics,--all Laplanders,--and they differ but little in their--
style of dressing; but, in other respects, what might be said of one
would not be true of the other two. I proceed, therefore, to point out
the distinction.
The first to be noticed are those we have already mentioned under the
title of "Coast," or "Shore Laplanders." The name will give an idea of
their _habitat_,--as also their mode of life and subsistence. They
dwell along the Norwegian coasts, round to the North Cape, and even
beyond it. They build their _gammes_, or sod-thatched dwellings, in
little villages around the numerous creeks and "fiords" that intersect
this rock-bound shore.
Their calling is that of fishermen. They subsist almost entirely upon
fish; and live by selling their surplus to the merchants and Russian
traders. They keep a few sheep, sometimes a poor cow, but rarely own
the reindeer. The life they lead is entirely different from that of
their kindred, who dwell habitually in the interior. As it differs
little from that of poor fishermen elsewhere, I shall dismiss the coast
Laplander without another word.
The second kind of Lap who merits our consideration, is that known as
the "Wood Laplander," or, more commonly, "Wood Lap." He is less known
than either of the two other varieties; but, as already stated, he
differs from them principally on account of his occupation. His home is
to be found upon the extensive plain country of Russian Lapland, and not
near the sea. He is a dweller in the pine and fir-forests; and builds
him a rude hut, very similar to the gamme of the coast Lap; but he is in
possession of some reindeer,--not enough, however, to support him,--and
he ekes out a subsistence by fishing in the rivers and fresh-water lakes
of the interior, by shooting the elk and wild reindeer, and trapping the
fur-bearing animals,--the ermine, the sable, the miniver-squirrel, the
badger, glutton, foxes, and wolves.
As his calling is chiefly that of a hunter and trapper, and therefore
very similar to like occupations in many other parts of the world, we
need not enter into details of it here. For the present, therefore, we
must _shelve_ the _Wood Lap_ along with his kinsman of the coast.
This brings us to the third class,--the "Mountain," or, as he is often
called, the "Reindeer Laplander:" since it is the possession of this
animal that chiefly distinguishes him from the other two classes of his
countrymen.
His mode of life is altogether different from either,--in fact,
resembling theirs in but few particulars. True, he fishes a little, and
occasionally does a bit of amateur hunting; but these are mere adjuncts
or pastimes. His main support is his antlered flock: it would be more
truthful to call it his sole support. By the reindeer lives, by the
reindeer he _moves_, by the reindeer he has his being.
His life is purely pastoral; he is a nomade,--a wanderer. All the world
knows this; but all the world does not know _why_ he wanders. Writers
have asserted that it was to seek new pasture for his flocks,--the old
ground having been eaten bare. Nothing of the sort. He leaves the
fertile plains, just as the willows are putting forth their succulent
shoots,--just as the rich grass begins to spring fresh and green,--and
betakes himself to the bleak sides of the mountains. That does not look
like seeking for a better pasture. It has nothing to do with it.
Let us follow him, however, throughout his wanderings,--through the
circuit of a single year,--and, perhaps, we shall find out the motive
that inducts him into the roving habit.
First, then, to be a "Reindeer Laplander," he must be the owner of one
hundred head of deer; fewer than that will be of no use. If he have
only fifty, he must sell out, and betake himself to some settlement of
Quans or Norwegians,--there to give his service for hire,--or else turn
Coast Laplander and fisherman,--a calling which he despises. This would
be a sinking in the social scale; but, if he has been imprudent or
unfortunate, and his flock has got reduced to fifty head, there is no
help for it. If he have one hundred, however, he may manage with great
economy to rub on; and keep up his character as a _free Reindeer Lap_.
With three hundred he can live comfortably; better with five hundred;
but a thousand would render him affluent. With fifteen hundred he would
be a grandee; and two thousand would give him the rank of a millionaire!
There are very few millionaires in Lapland, and not many grandees.
Proprietors of even a thousand head are scarce; there are more whose
herds number from three hundred to five hundred each.
And here, I may remark, that there is no government,--no tribal
organisation. The owner of each herd is the head of a family; over them
he is patriarch, but his power extends no further. It is not even great
so far, if there chance to be grown-up unruly sons sharing the common
tent.
I have used the word tent. That is the Reindeer Laplander's home,--
winter and summer alike. Notwithstanding the severity of his clime, he
builds no house; and even his tent is of the very rudest kind known
among tenting tribes. It consists of some birch saplings set up in the
snow, bent towards each other, and then covered over with a piece of
coarse cloth,--the _wadmal_. This he prefers to a covering of skins;
and obtains it from the Norwegian or Russ trader in exchange for the
latter. The tent, when standing, is only six feet high, and not much
more in diameter. In this circumscribed space his whole family, wife,
daughters, sons, often a retainer or two, and about a dozen dogs find
shelter from the piercing blast,--seated, or lying beside, or on top of
one another, higgledy-piggledy, any way they can. There is room found
besides for a large iron or brass cooking-pot, some dishes and bowls of
birch, a rude stone furnace, and a fire in the middle of the floor.
Above the fire, a rack forms a shelf for countless tough cheeses, pieces
of reindeers' flesh, bowls of milk, bladders of deer's blood, and a
multiplicity of like objects.
The spring is just opening; the frost has thawed from the trees,--for
the winter home is in the midst of a forest,--the ground is bare of
snow, and already smiling with a carpet of green, enamelled by many
brilliant flowers. It is time, therefore, for the Reindeer Laplander to
decamp from the spot, and seek some other scene less inviting to the
eye. You will naturally inquire why he does this? and perhaps you will
express some surprise at a man showing so little judgment as to take
leave of the fertile plain,--just now promising to yield him a rich
pasture for his herds,--and transport his whole stock to the cold
declivity of a bleak mountain? Yes, it is natural this should astonish
you,--not, however, when you have heard the explanation.
Were he to stay in that plain--in that wood where he has wintered--a
month longer, he would run the risk of losing half of his precious herd:
perhaps in one season find himself reduced to the necessity of becoming
a _Coast Lap_. The reason is simple,--the great gadfly (_Aestrus
tarandi_), with numerous other tormentors, are about to spring forth
from the morass; and, as soon as the hot sun has blown them into full
strength and vitality, commence their work of desolation upon the deer.
In a few short days or hours their eggs would be deposited in the
skin,--even in the nostrils of the antlered creature,--there to
germinate and produce disease and death. Indeed, the torment of biting
gnats and other insects would of itself materially injure the health and
condition of the animals; and if not driven to the mountains, they would
"stampede," and go there of their own accord. It becomes a necessity,
then, for the Reindeer Lap to remove his habitation; and, having
gathered a few necessary utensils, and packed them on his stoutest
bucks, he is off to the mountains.
He does not take the whole of his _penates_ along with him. That would
be difficult, for the snow is now gone, and he cannot use his proper
mode of travelling,--the sledge. This he leaves behind him; as well as
all other implements and articles of household use, which he can do
without in his summer quarters. The cooking-pot, and a few bowls and
dishes, go along with him,--also the tent-cloth, and some skins for
bedding. The smaller articles are deposited in panniers of wicker,
which are slung over the backs of a number of pack-deer; and, if a
balance be required, the infant Lap, in its little boat-like cradle,
forms the adjusting medium.
The journey is often of immense length. There may be highlands near,
but these are not to the Laplander's liking. Nothing will satisfy him
but the bold mountain range that overlooks the sea, trending along the
whole Norwegian coast: only on the declivities of this, or on one of the
thousand elevated rocky isles that guard this extensive seaboard, does
the Laplander believe that his deer will enjoy proper health. He has a
belief, moreover, that at least once every year, the reindeer should
drink sea-water to keep them in condition. Certain it is, that on
reaching the sea, these animals rush eagerly into the water, and drink
the briny fluid; and yet ever after, during the same season, they refuse
to taste it! It is the general opinion that the solitary draught thus
taken has the effect of destroying such larvae, as may have already
formed in their skins.
This journey often costs the Laplander great fatigue and trouble. It is
not uncommon for him to go two hundred miles to the Norwegian coast; for
although his habitual home may lie much nearer to the shores of the
Bothnian gulf, it would not serve his purpose to take his flock there.
The forest on that side grows to the water's edge; and the gadfly is as
abundant there, as in the wooded districts of the interior.
On reaching his destination, the Laplander chooses his grazing-ground,
sometimes on the mountains of the mainland; but he prefers one of the
elevated islets so numerous along the shore. This insures him against
all danger from the flies, and also saves him much trouble in herding
his deer. The islet may be two miles from the main, or any other land.
That does not signify. The reindeer can swim like ducks, and the herd
is soon driven over. The wadmal tent is then pitched; and the work of
the summer begins. This consists in milking, cheese-making, and looking
after the young deer; and a little fishing adds to the keep of the
family: for it is at this time that foreign support is most required.
The season of summer is with the mountain Lap his season of scarcity!
He does not dream of killing his deer at this season,--that would be
sheer waste,--nor does he drink their milk, only in very little
quantity. It goes to the making of cheese, and the owner of the herd
contents himself with the whey. Butter is not made at all by the
Reindeer Lap, though the Quans and Norwegians make some. The Lap would
have no use for it,--since he eats no bread,--and it would not keep so
well, nor yet be so safe an article of merchandise as the cheese. The
latter he regards as his staple article of profit. He sells it to the
coast-merchant: receiving in exchange his favourite dram-stuff, and a
few pieces of coarse cloth, or utensils. The merchant is near at hand:
for just for this very purpose are several small ports and settlements
kept in existence along the otherwise desert shores of Norway.
Deer-skins and dried fish, oils of the seal, furs and pelts of various
kinds, have drawn these little settlements to the coast. Otherwise they
would not be there.
When the heat of the summer is over, the reindeer Laplander commences
his return to his winter abode,--back to the place whence he came. The
gadflies are now gone, and he can drive his deer back with safety; and
just as he travelled to the coast, he wends his way home again: for it
is to be observed that he regards the winter residence as the real home,
and the summer one only as a place of temporary sojourn. He does not
look upon it, as we at such a season. To him it is no pleasant
excursion: rather is it his period of toil and dearth,--his _tightest_
time.
Once home again, he has nothing to do but erect his wadmal tent and look
after his deer,--that now find food upon their favourite lichen. It is
buried inches deep under the snow. They care not for that. They can
soon uncover the pasture with their broad hoofs; and their keen scent
never allows them to scrape up the snow without finding the lichen
underneath. Upon it they thrive, and at this season are in the best
condition for the knife.
The Laplander now also enjoys life. If rich, he has fresh venison every
day; but even if only moderately well off, he "kills" two or three times
a week. His mode of slaughtering is original. He sticks his long,
knife-blade into the throat of the animal, leaving it there till the
creature is dead! This precaution he takes to prevent waste. Were he
to pull out the blade, the blood would flow and be lost. The knife acts
as a stopper to the wound it has made. The blood is preserved and
carefully put away,--the bladder being used as the vessel to contain it.
You must not imagine that the Reindeer Lap remains all the winter in one
place; on the contrary, he moves repeatedly, always taking his tent and
tent-utensils along with him. The tent is as easily set up as taken
down. The ground in all sheltered places is, at this season, covered
with snow. It is only necessary to shovel it off, clearing a circular
space about the size of the ground-plan of the tent. The snow, thus
removed, produces a sort of elevated ring or snow-dyke all round the
bare spot; and into this the tent-poles are hammered. They are then
bent inward, tied near the tops, and the _wadmal_ being laid on as
before, the tent is ready for use.
Fresh branches of evergreen pines, and other trees, are strewed over the
floor; and on top of these are laid the deer-skins that serve for beds,
chairs, tables, and blankets. These, with the iron cooking-pot, a large
iron or brass pail to hold melted snow-water for drinking, and a few
other utensils, are the only furniture of the dwelling. I have already
stated that the fire is built in the centre of the tent,--on some large
stones, forming a rudely-constructed hearth. A hole in the roof is
intended for a chimney; but its draught is so bad, that the tent is
almost always filled with a cloud of bitter smoke,--so thick as to
render objects invisible. In this atmosphere no other European,
excepting a Lap, could possibly exist; and travellers, passing through
the Lapland country, have often preferred braving the cold frost of the
night air, to being half smothered by the smoke; and have consequently
taken shelter under a neighbouring tree. The Laplander himself feels
but little inconvenienced by the very thickest smoke.
Habit is everything, and to this habit has he been used from his
infancy. His eyes, however, are not so indifferent to the annoyance.
These suffer from it; and the consequence is that the eyes of the
Laplanders are almost universally sore and watery. This is a notable
characteristic of the race. Smoke, however, is not the sole cause of
it. The Esquimaux equally suffer from sore eyes; and these, burning oil
in their houses instead of wood, are seldom troubled with smoke. More
likely it is the snow-glare to which the Laplander, as well as the
Esquimaux, is much exposed, that brings about this copious _watering_ of
the eyes.
The Laplander cooks the reindeer flesh by boiling. A large piece is put
into the great family pot, and nothing added but a quantity of water.
In this the meat boils and simmers till it is done tender. The oily fat
is then skimmed off, and put into a separate vessel; and the meat is
"dished" in a large tray or bowl of birch-bark.
A piece is then cut off, for each individual of the family; and handed
around the circle. It is eaten without bread, and even salt is
dispensed with. A dip in the bowl of skim-fat is all the seasoning it
gets; and it is washed down with the "liquor" in which it has been
boiled, and which is nothing but greasy water, without vegetables or any
other "lining." It has the flavour of the fat venison, however; and is
by no means ill-tasted. The _angelica_ flourishes in the country of the
Laplander, and of this vegetable he makes occasional use, not eating the
roots, but the stalks and leaves, usually raw and without any
preparation. Perhaps he is led to use it, by a knowledge of the
antiscorbutic properties of the plant.
Several species of berry-producing bushes also furnish him with an
occasional meal of fruit. There are wild currants, the cranberry,
whortle, and bilberries. The fruits of these trees do not fall in the
autumn, as with us; but remain all winter upon the branches. Buried
under the snow, they are preserved in perfect condition, until the thaw
of the following spring once more brings them into view. At this time
they are sweet and mellow; and are gathered in large quantities by the
Lap women. Sometimes they are eaten, as they come from the tree; but it
is more usual to make them into a "plum-pudding:" that is, they are
mixed with a kind of curdled milk, and stored away in bladders. When
wanted, a slice is cut from the mass,--including a piece of the bladder,
within which they have now attained to the stiffness and consistence of
a "cream-cheese."
Another great luxury of the Laplander, is the reindeer's milk frozen
into an "ice." This is easily obtained; and the process consists simply
in filling a birchen bowl with milk, and exposing it to the open air
during frost. It is soon converted into solid ice; and in this
condition will keep perfectly sweet throughout the whole of the winter.
As the reindeer are never milked in the depth of the winter season, the
Laplander takes care, before that period approaches, to lay in a stock
of ice-milk: so that he may have a drink of it at all times, by simply
setting one of his birchen bowls within reach of the fire. He even
makes a merchandise of this article: for the frozen reindeer milk is
highly prized by the foreign merchants; who are ready, at any time, to
exchange for the delicious article a dram of their devilish fire-water.
It is at this season that the Laplander moves about, both on foot and in
his sledge. He not only travels from place to place, in a circuit of
twenty miles,--round the little solitary church which the Swedish
missionary has built for him,--but he makes an occasional journey to the
distant coast.
In his sledge, or even afoot, a hundred miles are to him as nothing: for
the frozen snow enables him to perform such a distance in an incredibly
short time. On his "skis," or snow-skates he could do a hundred miles
in a couple of days; even though the paths led him over hills,
mountains, lakes, and rivers. All are now alike,--all concealed under
the common covering of a deep snow. The lakes and rivers are frozen and
bridged for him; and the mountain declivities are rendered smooth and
easily traversed,--either by the sledge or the "skis." With the former
he would think little of a hundred miles in a single day; and if the
occasion were a "killing" one, and relays could be had upon the route,
twice that enormous distance he could easily accomplish.
The mode of sleigh-travelling by the Reindeer Laplander, as also his
snow-skimming, or skating, have been both often and elaborately
described. I have only space here to present the more salient points of
the picture.
This sleigh or sledge is termed by him "pulka;" but he has three
varieties of this article,--two for travelling, and the third for
carrying luggage. The two first kinds are nearly alike; and, in fact,
differ only in a little extra "furniture," which one of them has upon
it,--that is, a covering over the top, to keep more comfortable the feet
and legs of the traveller. In other respects it is only the common
pulk, being similar to the latter in shape, size, _atelage_, and
everything.
To get an idea of the Laplander's sledge, you must fancy a little boat,
about six feet long, and sixteen inches in breadth of beam. This is the
width at the stern, where it is broadest; but from the stern it narrows
all the way forward, until, on reaching the stem, it has tapered almost
to a point. Its sides are exactly like those of a boat; and it rests
upon a "keel" of about four inches breadth, which keel is the one and
only "runner." A strong board boxes up the stern end, in front of which
is the seat; and the board itself serves to support the back of the
rider. His legs and feet are stretched out longitudinally; filling up
the space between the quarter-deck and the "forward" part of the little
craft; and, thus fixed, the Laplander is ready for the road.
In the best class of "pulk"--that used by the Russ and Swedish traders
and travellers--the forward part is covered with a sort of half-deck of
skins or leather; but the Laplander does not often fancy this. It gives
him too much trouble to get out and in; as he is often compelled to do
to look after his train of deer. His pulk, therefore, is open from stem
to stern; and his deer-skin coverings keep his legs warm enough.
Only one deer is used; and the mode of harnessing is of primitive
simplicity. A band of skin acts as a collar round the neck of the
animal; and from the lowest point of this a piece falls downwards below
the animal's breast,--striking in on the counter like the pendants of a
martingale. To this piece is attached the trace,--there is but one,--
which, passing between the forelegs, and afterwards the hind ones, is
looped into an iron ring upon the stem of the sledge. Upon this trace,
which is a strong strap of raw hide or leather, the whole draught-power
is exerted. A broad surcingle--usually of cloth, neatly stitched and
ornamented--passes round the deer's body. Its use is to hold up the
trace underneath the belly, and prevent it from dragging the ground, or
getting among the animal's feet. A similar band of cloth passes round
its neck, giving a fine appearance to the noble creature. A single rein
attached to the left horn, or fixed halter-fashion around the deer's
head, is all that is necessary to guide it along; the movements of this,
aided by the accents of its master's voice, are understood by this
well-trained animal.
For all that, the deer does not _always_ travel kindly. Frequently he
takes a fit of obstinacy or anger; and will then turn upon his
trainer,--presenting his antlered front in an attitude of attack. On
such occasions the Lap takes shelter behind his "pulk," raising it in
his arms, and holding it as a shield wherewith to defend himself; until
he can pacify, or otherwise subdue, the irritated buck.
The tumbling of the sledge, and consequent spilling of its load, is a
thing of frequent occurrence, owing to the narrow base upon which the
vehicle is supported; but the Laplander thinks nothing of a trifling
mishap of this nature. In a trice the "snow-boat" is righted, the
voyager in his seat again, and off over the frozen snow with the speed
of lightning.
The reindeer can travel nearly twenty English miles an hour! This rate
of speed has been proved and tested; and with fresh relays along the
route, over four hundred miles might be made in a day. But the same
thing could be done with horses,--that is, upon a desperate emergency.
The luggage "pulk" of the Laplander differs only from the other kinds of
sledges in being longer, broader, deeper, and consequently of more
capacity to carry goods. It is used for transporting the skins, and
other merchantable commodities, from the interior to the trading depots
on the coast.
The _skis_ or snow-skates require very little description. They are on
the same principle as the snow-shoes in use among the North-American
Indians; though from these they differ materially in construction. They
are merely two long pieces of smooth board, a few inches in breadth, and
slightly turned up at the ends. One is full six feet,--the right one;
the left is about twelve inches shorter. Near the middle they are
lashed firmly to the feet by strong pieces of hide; and by means of
these curious appendages, when the snow is crusted over, the Laplander
can skim over its surface with great rapidity. He uses a long pole to
guide and assist him in his movements; and this pole has a piece of
circular board, or a round ball, near its point,--to prevent it from
sinking too deeply in the snow. Going _up hill_ upon the skis is not so
easy,--but the practised skater can ascend even the steep acclivities of
the mountains with less difficulty than might be imagined. This is
accomplished in zigzag lines,--each leading to a higher elevation. Down
hill, the course upon _skis_ is rapid almost as the flight of an arrow;
and, by means of the long pole, rocks, ravines, and precipices, are
shunned with a dexterity that is quite surprising. Altogether a
Laplander, either in his reindeer sledge, or upon his long wooden
"skis," is as interesting a sight as may be seen anywhere.
After all that has been said, it will appear pretty clearly, that the
Laplander, though dwelling so very near to civilised lands, is still
very far distant from _true civilisation_.