CHAPTER XIII

TOILET WITH SNOW.--A LAPP BREAKFAST.--LAPP DOGS.--TALKS WITH MY LAPP

FRIEND ABOUT THE REINDEER.--THEIR HABITS AND VARIOUS FORMS OF

USEFULNESS.

When we awoke in the morning it was 40 degrees below zero in the tent

and 48 degrees below outside. I felt like washing my face and my hands,

but melted snow was sure to turn into ice as soon as it was on my face.

I did not want to wash in warm water, for it would have made my skin too

tender. So I rubbed my face and hands with snow and dried them

thoroughly. This was my usual morning wash when I slept out of doors.

A big fire was lighted and the maidservant went to work kneading

dough--yeast was not used. The loaves were baked on charcoal, as is

often done among the Lapps, and at the same time coffee was made.

The breakfast was composed of the dry powdered blood of reindeer, mixed

with flour, diluted in warm water and made into pancake. We had a

porridge of dried reindeer's milk that had been stirred in warm water

with a wooden spoon. The milk of the reindeer is very rich and thick.

When it was served to me, the wife remarked: "This food is very

nutritious." We also had some reindeer meat and finished up with

reindeer cheese and a cup of coffee. It was a fine breakfast. I ate

heartily of everything. When it is so cold one is always hungry. After

the breakfast, all the household with the exception of the host and

hostess started on their skees for the reindeer herd, which was to be

removed to some other quarters, for the moss had been more or less eaten

and they were to take them to a place where the snow was not so deep.

The mothers had slung their cradles with their babies on their

shoulders. Each Lapp was followed by his dog.

About one hour after breakfast the night watch returned with their dogs.

Immediately the wife gave to each a cup of coffee; then they took their

breakfast. They gave their dogs some of the powdered blood mixed with

flour and warm water. The dogs relished this greatly. Then they were

given the bones, which they had been watching with glaring eyes. They

went out with them and gnawed them until there was nothing left of them.

Such is generally the meal given to the dogs every day. Once in a while

they get a small piece of meat, which they swallow voraciously in a

single mouthful.

When the night watch had done eating they went to sleep; so did their

dogs. These Lapp dogs are thickset. They resemble the Pomeranian breed,

but are larger; their hair is long, very thick, and bushy. Their ears

stand upright; they seem to have some wolf blood in them. The tail is

curly. Pehr Wasara said to me: "Lapps could not do without their dogs.

They are faithful animals; they are our helpmates; they keep our

reindeer together when we are on the march, watch them when they are

pasturing; they look out constantly for wolves, and warn us when they

are in the neighborhood, and of their approach beforehand, and attack

them without fear. Neither are they afraid of bears. They are very

brave.

"Every man, woman, manservant or maidservant and grown-up child, has his

or her dog which obeys and listens to his master alone. They are never

allowed to stay behind; wherever their master goes they go, and watch

with him night and day if necessary. Occasionally, for some reason

unknown to us, or because the deer scent the wolves afar off, a panic

seizes the herd of reindeer, and instinctively they move away. That is

the time when our dogs prove most useful and of the greatest service to

us. They go around in every direction and bring the reindeer together.

They seem to know that there is some unseen danger. When the wolves come

into the herd, the dogs attack them fiercely and act with great cunning,

taking care not to be bitten by them and waiting for the opportunity to

spring on the wolves."

While Pehr was talking I wished I could see a pack of wolves attacking

reindeer, to see how the dogs fight them.

"Do not think," added Pehr, "that it is our inclination to be harsh

towards our dogs. We never overfeed them; it is the only way to keep

them hardy, strong, and healthy. They are not allowed to rest until

their master or mistress has returned to the tent. Then we want them to

stay out doors."

"I should like very much," I said to Pehr, "to see how you break in

reindeer and accustom them to harness."

"Well," he replied, "you will see how we train our reindeer to draw

sledges. You came just in time, for we are now training some, as we have

several that are getting too old. The males are used as draught animals,

as they are stronger than the females. When the snow is in good

condition they can draw as much as four hundred pounds, or two or three

logs of pine or fir."

So he sent two men after the reindeer. They took their lassos with them,

and in less than an hour they returned with two reindeer.

"The process of teaching a reindeer to draw a sleigh or carry a pack on

his back," observed Pehr, "is very tedious and very hard work. Some of

the reindeer are more difficult to teach than others, and in spite of

the best training the wild nature and restlessness of the animal shows

itself not infrequently."

I thought so. I remembered my first lessons.

[Illustration: "I went outside the tent with my host."]

"We begin to train the reindeer," he continued, "when he is about three

years old, and he does not become a well trained animal before he is

five. When they are under training a daily lesson is given them to let

them know their masters, and also a lesson to accustom them to be

lassoed, of which they are very much afraid at first. We give them salt

and angelica, of which they are very fond, every day, to make them

come when they are needed, and in that case the lasso is not necessary.

They are never subjected to ill-treatment at any time; if they were we

could do nothing with them."

The work of teaching the reindeer to draw a sleigh began. Salt was first

given to one of the deer, which he seemed to enjoy very much. Then

without trouble a very strong leather cord with a loop was put carefully

over his horns, and the loop was drawn tight at the base. The collar was

carefully put on his neck and more salt given to him. The trace attached

to the sleigh was much longer than those used when driving; it was

several yards in length, so that the sleigh could not be touched when

the animal kicked; then it was tied to the collar of the reindeer. As

soon as the animal was urged to move, and felt the weight of the sleigh,

he plunged wildly forward and kicked, then plunged first in one

direction and then in another. It was a great sight. I thought they

would never be able to break the animal in. It required all the strength

of the Lapp not to be dragged by the animal. The other man, with a cord,

held the sleigh. After a few trials both man and beast were exhausted.

A short rest was then taken and another trial was made. With repeated

rests for the trainer and the animal, the day's lesson proceeded. The

trainer was in profuse perspiration, though it was 38 degrees below

zero. My host said to me: "This exercise is repeated day after day until

the animal submits to it. They are in their prime at seven or eight

years and can work till the age of fifteen or seventeen years. The

reason we have to wander so much with our reindeer is that we have to go

where the snow is not so deep as in other parts, for the reindeer has to

dig into the snow to find his food, the lichen, and he cannot go deeper

than three or four feet. We generally know where these places are, for

the wind, which blows every year more or less in the same direction,

blows away a part of the snow. When we come to such a place we pitch our

tent."

"When the reindeer is left to himself can he find such a place?" I

inquired. "How can the animals know that the snow is only three or four

feet deep?"

"I do not know," he replied, "but the wild reindeer can find it,

otherwise they would starve."

"How can they dig through the snow?" I asked with a smile. "They have no

shovels."

Pehr laughed at my remark. "Their fore feet are their shovels," he

replied. "You will see for yourself how they dig the snow."

I asked Pehr also about the speed of the reindeer.

"The speed of the reindeer," he replied, "varies very much according to

the time of the year and the state of the snow, October, November and

December being the months when they are the fleetest, as they are fresh

from the summer pastures. January and February are also very good months

for them. The cold weather strengthens them, and they are not yet

exhausted from digging through the snow, as they are at the end of the

season. The rapidity of their gait depends very much also on the state

of the surface of the snow. If it is well packed and crisp, they go very

fast. Much depends, too, upon the distance and whether the country is

hilly or not, or with a long range of slopes. On the rivers, over well

packed snow, and a good track that has been furrowed by previous

reindeer, they can average twelve or fifteen miles an hour when in good

condition, sometimes twenty for the first hour; down a mountain slope

twenty and twenty-five. They can travel five or six hours without

stopping; the first hour very rapidly, the second more slowly, and

towards the fifth and sixth hours still more slowly, perhaps not more

than eight or ten miles an hour, for by that time they require rest and

food, and we unharness them in places where the snow is not deep, and

let them get their food. Early in the winter, when they are in good

condition, one can travel with a swift bull reindeer one hundred and

fifty miles in a day, and even two hundred miles if the condition of the

snow is favorable and the cold is 30 or 40 degrees below zero. The

colder the weather is the greater is the speed. Seventy or eighty miles

a day is a good average for a reindeer."

When this talk was ended, Pehr Wasara said to me, "Let us take our skees

and go to one of my herds near by." After a run of about two miles we

came into the midst of a herd of about three thousand reindeer. "There

are more," he said with pride. "Are they not fine animals?"

"Yes, indeed, they are," I replied.

While I was looking at the magnificent horns of some of the beasts, Pehr

remarked: "The horns of the males, which often weigh forty pounds,

attain the full size at the age of six or seven years, those of the cow

at about four years. The time the reindeer drops his horns is from March

until May. In the adult animals they attain their full size in September

or at the beginning of October. After the age of eight years the

branches gradually drop off. They are the easiest animals that man can

keep. They require no barns. They are never housed. They like cold

weather and snow. Food has not to be stored for them. They will not

touch the moss that has been gathered unless brought up to do so by

farmers. They get their food themselves. We do not give them water. When

thirsty they eat the snow. When our people go among them they will often

not even raise their heads, and remain quiet when we pitch our tents.

Once in a while there is so much snow in some districts that it is

impossible for reindeer to get at the moss; then the only way is to go

to the lowlands, or into the forest, where the reindeer can feed on the

moss hanging from the firs or pines.

"Some of the reindeer," he went on, "though trained to eat kept moss,

hay, and even bread, thrive only when they are free to roam about; they

cannot be kept all the time in their stables. They must wander over the

snow and eat it. Otherwise they are sure to degenerate and become

useless as draught animals."

"How many reindeer," I asked, "does a family require for its support?"

He replied, "A thousand at least. A herd of two thousand to two thousand

five hundred gives from two hundred to two hundred and seventy-five,

perhaps three hundred, calves a year. Sometimes we have bad years with

our reindeer. Some years prove unfavorable to their increase. Some years

the snow is very deep, which prevents them from digging for food; the

herd then become emaciated from their exertions and want of sufficient

food, and many die.

"Some Lapps," he added, "own five or six thousand reindeer, one or two

among us, eight or ten thousand. The spring is a bad time for them; the

snow melts during the day from the sun's heat, and a thick crust forms

at night from the frost, so that their feet break through, causing

lameness and disease. At that time we move them as much as we can only

during the day, but it is hard work for them to go through the soft

snow.

"Without the reindeer we could not exist in this northern land of snow.

The reindeer is our horse, our beast of burden. On him we feed. He gives

us our clothing, our shoes, our gloves; his skin is our blanket and our

bed; his sinews our thread. On the march a herd of reindeer is easily

managed. We keep them together without much trouble, and in winter they

remain where we leave them to get the moss; but if the wolves are after

them, then they flee in every direction, and many herds then become

mixed together."

"When your reindeer get mixed with those of other herds, how can you

tell which are yours?" I inquired.

Pehr answered, "Every owner has his own mark branded on the ears of all

his reindeer, and no other person has the right to use the same, as this

is legal proof of ownership; otherwise, when several herds were mingled

together the separation would be impossible. The name of the owner of a

herd, and each mark, have to be recorded in court like those of any

owner of property."

The Land of the Long Night · 第 13 / 36 章