THE SNOW GETTING DEEPER.--LAPP HOSPITALITY.--A LAPP REPAST.--COFFEE
AND TOBACCO LAPP STAPLES.--BABIES IN STRANGE CRADLES.--HOW THE
TENTS ARE MADE.--GOING TO SLEEP WITH THE MERCURY AT 39 deg. BELOW.
When I had left Pajala I travelled on the frozen Muonio, passed the
stations of Kaunisvaara, Killangi, and Parkajoki, and came to
Muonioniska. All the hamlets or farms had comfortable log buildings.
Some of the dwelling-houses were quite large. Wood was not lacking and
the houses were quite warm. Forests of the fir were abundant.
The sun was now hidden below the horizon. The snow was getting deeper
every hour--and was about seven or eight feet deep on a level after
being packed. I was coming to another great "Snow Land." From
Muonioniska I travelled on between the Muonio and Ouanasjoki rivers.
(Joki means river in Finnish.) I became acquainted with many nomadic
Lapps who wandered with their reindeer over that great snow land--among
them were two very pleasant men of the name of Pinta and Wasara, who
agreed to travel with me for a while.
Wasara, the younger, was the son of a very rich Lapp who owned nearly
ten thousand reindeer, and possessed besides a good bank account.
Pinta was poor, the possessor of only about one hundred reindeer, which
pastured with those of his elder brother. Pinta was about thirty years
old; Wasara about twenty-five. Both were men of splendid physique; broad
shouldered with very muscular legs and arms, which were apparently as
hard as wood. They had blue eyes and fair hair. One was four feet eight
inches and a half in height, the other was four feet ten inches. They
were very skilful on skees; in summer they could make tremendous leaps
over rivers and ditches with the long poles they carried with them, and
could drive the most intractable reindeer, which are even worse than our
broncos.
While travelling, I drove next to the leader, for reindeer follow each
other mechanically in the same furrow. The leader is the one that has
the most work; but if he follows a furrow, his reindeer gives him little
trouble.
Pinta generally took the lead, I came next, and Wasara third. Pinta and
Wasara had their faithful dogs with them.
Travelling was fine; the snow was well packed, and so crisp that the
sleighs glided over it lightly. Often we travelled at the rate of
fifteen miles an hour, for our animals were strong and had not been used
for several days.
How I shouted, for I had such an exuberance of spirits. I felt so
strong and healthy. I wanted to go, to go onward, to go all the time.
Sometimes I felt like running, like jumping. One could not help it, for
it was the atmosphere that made one feel so. I could not get tired.
The fine weather, however, lasted but a few days. Then the sky became
gray, there was not a star to be seen, the wind began to rise, and snow
fell. We could see nothing. Wasara thought we were near the tent of his
father, but we could not see any landmark to guide us.
The two dogs ran in every direction, to try to scent people. They seemed
to know that we were looking after the tent of Wasara's father; but each
time they would return looking in the face of their masters silently, as
if to say "We find nothing."
We were somewhat afraid of wolves, but trusted in the dogs to warn us of
their approach. We at last concluded to stop; we kept the reindeer
harnessed and stood near them. We fixed our hoods carefully over our
faces, put on our masks, and seated ourselves on the snow. Soon I heard
heavy snoring--Pinta and Wasara were fast asleep, with their heads
downward and arms crossed on their breasts. The Lapps sleep often in
that way when travelling. But the weather cleared after three or four
hours and we continued our journey. My two friends then knew where they
were.
After an hour's drive we saw in the midst of the snow, near a large
forest of fir trees, a tent. "Here is the tent of my father," said
Wasara, pointing out the tent to me.
We hurried our reindeer, and as we approached the place more than a
dozen Lapp dogs, wolf-like in appearance, announced our arrival by their
fierce barking.
Wasara's father came outside of the tent, drove the dogs away, and told
them to be quiet. He recognized his son and bade us come in.
"What a strange abode these nomadic Lapps have," I said to myself, as I
looked around inside of the tent. According to Lapp etiquette the left
side of the tent was given to us, soft reindeer skins being first laid
on the top of branches of young birch trees that were spread on the
floor of earth, the snow having been removed where they had pitched
their tent.
The father took his snuffbox from a small bag and offered me a pinch of
snuff. This ceremony meant that I was welcome, and I passed the snuffbox
to his son who, in turn, offered a pinch of snuff to Pinta.
I looked with astonishment at the people that were in the tent, and
everything that surrounded me. These Lapps had blue eyes; their faces,
owing to exposure to the blustering winds, were very red, but the
protected part of the skin was as white as that of the whitest people.
There were a number of women and men, several young girls and two lads.
I was told that there were two men with the reindeer.
[Illustration: "What a strange abode these nomadic Lapps have!"]
The women were all busy; one was weaving shoe-bands of bright colors,
red predominating; another was just finishing a "kapta," and a third one
was putting a lining of red flannel over the seams upon a tiny pair of
reindeer-skin shoes for a child; the girls were sewing some
undergarments.
Wasara's father's first name was Pehr,--he was a fine-looking Lapp,
about seventy years old. His father was living, and was about ninety
years old. The outdoor life agrees with the Lapp. Give me the plateaus
of the Arctic regions for health. There are plenty of mosquitoes in
summer, but no malaria at any time. Nor is there any sore throat there.
I do not remember, indeed, ever to have heard a person cough in that
country.
The material of the tent was of very coarse woollen stuff, called
"vadmal." The tent was about thirteen feet in diameter at the ground.
Its frame was composed of poles fitting each other; the wood had become
black from being smoked for years. These poles are so well knitted
together that they can resist the terrific winds which blow over the
land. A cross pole high up sustained an iron chain, at the end of which
is a hook to hold the kettle and cooking pot. The coarse woollen stuff
which covered the frame was composed of two pieces that were made fast
by strings. The nature of the vadmal permits the wind to go gently
through. The entrance is by a small sliding door made of the same
material.
Inside, along the lower part of the tent, were boxes of different shapes
and sizes, packages lying on the top of skins to prevent the wind from
blowing in from the bottom; the outside was protected by snow.
As I glanced around I saw two queer-looking things, resembling in shape
the sabots or wooden shoes of the peasantry of Europe, only very much
larger, hanging near the sides. I looked in, and to my great
astonishment saw a Lapp baby in each. They were Lapp cradles, called
"katkem" or "komse." They were made of a single piece of wood and were
about two and a half feet long by fifteen or eighteen inches wide. In
one was such a sweet Lapp baby, a dear little girl, with her eyes wide
open. As I looked at her she smiled. In the other was a big fat boy,
fast asleep.
Two women went out and collected a lot of snow, which they put on to
melt in a big iron pot hanging over the fire. This is the way the Lapps
have to do to procure water. When the snow had melted she put the water
in a coffee kettle that had a spout. One of the women ground coffee in a
mill. Then the ground coffee was put into the kettle and left to boil
for quite a while, the woman watching it, taking off the pot when it was
about to boil over, and then putting it over the fire again. The third
woman was attending to the cups and saucers. When the coffee was ready
they put in a little bit of salt to give it flavor, then set the coffee
kettle on the ground and put into it a small piece of dried fishskin to
clarify it and precipitate the grounds at the bottom of the kettle.
When the coffee was ready to be poured, one of the women went out and
came back with reindeer milk which had remained frozen for over three
months. Then the coffee was served. The wife bit several pieces of rock
candy from a big lump, to sweeten each cup of coffee, and after putting
in frozen reindeer milk with a spoon, licked it with her tongue--"What
is the use of being particular when one travels," I said to myself. If
one were, he would starve. We had silver spoons, round in shape, with
twisted handles. "These," said the father, "have been in the possession
of our family for nearly two hundred years." I saw different initials
and different dates from the year 1700 down.
After coffee men, women, and the young girls filled their pipes and had
a good smoke. They were very much astonished when I told them I had
never smoked in my life.
"There are two things we Lapps have always with us--coffee and tobacco.
After a hard day's work or a long journey there is nothing so refreshing
as coffee," said Pehr Wasara, smacking his lips at the very thought.
While we were chatting, Pehr was busy cutting reindeer meat and putting
the pieces in a pot hanging over the fire which had been filled with
snow that had melted. When he had finished, he said: "By and by you will
have something to eat." I was prodigiously hungry; travelling over the
snow in a temperature between 35 and 45 degrees below zero, as I had
done for several days, gives one such a good appetite! While waiting for
the meal to be ready, I went outside the tent with my host.
The sight outside was quite as strange as the inside of the tent.
Numerous Lapp sleighs were scattered here and there, skees were lying on
the ground in different directions. Quarters and other large pieces of
reindeer meat, out of the reach of wolves, foxes, and dogs, were
suspended to the branches of trees. On two racks about eight feet high
above the ground were pieces of reindeer meat piled upon each other.
Collars, traces, reins, everything for the harnessing of reindeer, were
seen all round the tent; buckets full of frozen reindeer milk, filled
late in the autumn, were on the ground. Hanging on trees were bladders
filled with congealed milk or blood.
The sleighs were of different kinds; several were decked over and used
as trunks. Others were empty. Four were filled with hoofs of the
reindeer they had killed to subsist upon during the winter.
Skins of wolves, of white foxes, of reindeer, were stretched on frames,
so that they could not shrink. Reindeer pack-saddles, empty pails,
wooden vessels, lay here and there. Fur garments and underwear were
hanging to the branches of trees. It was a strange sight indeed! But a
sight I met thereafter at almost every camp.
When the meal was ready we were called in. The host served the meat,
which had been put in a large platter, in portions, guessing what would
satisfy the hunger of each person. The fattest parts, which are
considered the most dainty, were given to me, being the guest of honor,
and the meat was served to us in wooden plates. We had nothing but
reindeer meat. I was getting accustomed to eat meat without bread or
potatoes.
During the meal small pieces of roots of fir trees, which are full of
resin, were thrown into the fire for light. After the meal I thanked all
for it, according to the custom. Then the Lapps lighted their pipes
again.
Pehr Wasara employed a man and a woman servant. From their clothing you
could not tell them apart from the other people. They were treated like
members of the family. The girl was paid three reindeer a year, the man
six.
"How much can you buy a tent for?" I inquired of Pehr Wasara. "Thirty or
forty dollars," he replied. "This is a great deal of money for us poor
Lapps." Pehr had plenty of money in the bank, but pretended poverty. I
learned also that a trained reindeer costs eight dollars.
I asked many questions. How long a tent lasted? He replied: "The vadmal
is very durable, and a tent lasts about twenty years, but it has to be
patched very often during that time." I looked round and saw a good many
patches, and I thought of the story of the knife and handle,--first the
blade broke, then a new blade was put in; after this the handle broke,
and a new handle was put on. I remembered that once a dear old aunt of
mine said to me: "Paul, this black silk dress has lasted me twenty
years." I exclaimed, "Twenty years, aunty! Are you sure of this?" Then
in the course of a few days, by indirect questions I found out that she
had had three new bodices put on at different times, and three different
skirts. I thought the tent of the Lapp might be twenty years old in the
same way.
After the meal had been finished the babies were taken from their
cradles, and their little beds were made afresh. The cradle bottoms were
covered with fine, soft, well-dried lichen or reindeer moss, over which
a little cotton sheet was spread. The babies were stark naked, and were
wrapped in little sheepskins while their beds were being made. Then they
were laid in, the sheet turned down, with a coarse piece of vadmal and
sheepskin over it; the whole was made fast by a cord fastened through
holes on each side of the cradle and laced across.
One of the mothers said to me: "When a child is born it is the custom
among Lapps to give him or her a reindeer. When baptized the sponsor,
too, often gives a reindeer to the babe, and these animals, and the
increase thereof, become the child's own property."
This woman, pointing out her sister to me, observed: "When my baby had
his first teeth, my sister here presented him with a reindeer. This is a
custom among us Lapps."
Then two of the men and two of the women with their dogs and their
skees went to relieve the people who were watching the reindeer herd,
and Pehr Wasara remarked, "My reindeer are divided in a number of
herds--for they could not all pasture together. We are afraid of wolves.
These people are to remain on the watch all night."
The family was very pious; they were, like all the Lapps, Lutherans.
Before going to sleep they sang psalms and hymns, praising God for the
blessings of the day.
Then they dressed themselves for the night, putting on over the garments
they wore during the day a long reindeer kapta, a sort of nightshirt
reaching below the feet. More reindeer skins were put over the skins on
which we were seated. Then a big bearskin was given to me as a blanket,
Pehr saying, "I killed this bear myself."
Before retiring I took off my shoes, the Lapp grass, and my stockings,
and hung them on the cross poles to dry. All did likewise. I carefully
arranged my precious Lapp grass so every vestige of dampness would be
absorbed when I should put it on again in the morning. One of the women
lent me a pair of her own stockings, which she took from one of the
little chests by her side.
The fire had gradually died out. "We seldom keep fires burning at
night," said the head of the family, "for it would be dangerous." The
dogs were driven out and the door made secure, comparatively speaking.
We were all huddled close together. Then we bade each other good-night.
I looked at my thermometer, it marked 39 degrees below zero inside the
tent; it was 46 degrees outside and everything was perfectly still,
there was not a breath of air stirring. Through the opening in the tent
for the smoke to pass, I could see the stars twinkling in the blue sky
as I lay on my back. Then putting my head under my bearskin I soon fell
asleep, though some dogs succeeded in smuggling themselves in, and two
or three times they awoke me by trying to get under my bearskin and lie
by me. They did likewise with the other people. Once I was awakened by a
big booming sound. It was the cracking of the ice over a lake not far
off from us.