MOVING CAMP.--ANOTHER GREAT BLIZZARD.--A REMARKABLE SIGHT.--DEER
GETTING THEIR FOOD BY DIGGING THE SNOW.--HOW REINDEER ARE
BUTCHERED.
The next day after our conversation about reindeer Pehr Wasara said to
me: "We are going to move away our camp and take our reindeer to a new
pasture," an expression that struck me as somewhat singular, as the
country lay under snow to the depth of five or six feet. "Some of us are
going to fetch the draught animals, and I will be back in a short time."
With these words he left with some of his people.
They returned with a fine lot of trained reindeer.
In the mean time there had been a great commotion in the camp; everybody
was busy; the tent had been packed in two bundles; its frame made three
packages; the frozen reindeer milk, all the provisions, meat, garments,
robes, skins,--in a word, everything they had was loaded on different
sleighs and secured.
The babies were carefully fixed in their queer-looking cradles, and made
quite safe against blustering winds.
Everything being ready, the reindeer were harnessed and we started. Soon
after, we came to the herd which had been bunched by the Lapps, the
dogs keeping them together. Then we began our march.
The herd moved in advance, in a body. Men, women and children on their
skees moved after them with great rapidity, with their dogs to help them
in the work of keeping the herd together. They all shouted and urged the
dogs to look out, but this required, I thought, no urging, for the dogs
were on the alert and knew what to do. In the rear were three Lapps with
their dogs driving the reindeer forward; the dogs barked behind the
heels of the animals, and once in a while would bite the legs of those
that did not move fast enough.
The women worked just as hard as the men, and those who had babies
carried them in their cradles, slung on their backs, and went as fast on
their skees as if they had been free from burdens. The babies were
evidently very comfortable, for they were very quiet.
It was a fine sight to see the herd of over three thousand reindeer on
the move over the vast plain of snow. After two hours we arrived at the
place of our encampment.
The Lapps hurried the putting up of the tent. The snow had been
shovelled from the place where it was to stand. They were laying the
birch twigs for a floor, and skins were put on the top of these;
alongside of the tent inside boxes and firewood were placed, and outside
snow was piled along the sides, also. This was to prevent the wind
coming in. In the mean time the reindeer had been unharnessed and some
of the sleighs unloaded.
Just then Pehr Wasara exclaimed: "Paulus, we are going to have a great
windstorm very soon. That is the reason we are in so much of a hurry."
He was right. Soon after the wind began to rise and blew stronger and
stronger, hissing and striking against the tent. In another moment we
were in the midst of a hurricane. I thought every instant that our tent
would be blown away and the woollen canvas torn to pieces.
The snow was flying thickly in the air. I said to myself: "If our tent
is blown away I will get into my reindeer bags." I was astonished to see
that the tent could withstand the storm, but the frame was well knit
together, and the woollen vadmal being porous allowed the wind to pass
through and did not give the resistance that canvas would have done. If
the tent had been made of canvas I am sure the frame could not have
withstood the pressure and fury of the blast. The door was protected
from the violence of the wind, which struck against the tent on the
other side.
The reindeer had huddled close together and stood still, except that now
and then those which were outside wanted to go inside and let some of
the other animals bear the brunt of the storm. I noticed that many of
the bulls formed the outer ring, thus protecting the female reindeer.
The poor fellows on the outside had a hard time of it. All the herd
faced the wind.
Inside the tent, when everybody was in, we were packed close together,
including the dogs. In spite of all the drawbacks the tent was
comfortable compared with the weather outside. A blazing fire, over
which hung a kettle full of reindeer meat, sent the smoke into our
faces; but we were thinking of the warm broth and of the good meal we
were going to have, and we laughed merrily and did not care for the
storm. The Lapps knew that the tent would stand the hurricane. The dogs
were in the way of everybody; the Lapps continually drove them out, but
soon after they were in again.
How nice the broth was when we drank it! How good the meat tasted! This
was a splendid meal.
When it was time to go to sleep I took off my shoes and stockings, and
carefully put the Lapp grass with the stockings on my breast to dry the
moisture, for the fine snow came through the smoke hole. Then I got into
my two bags and said good-night to the family.
I was bothered by the dogs during the night. They were no sooner driven
out than they would come in to huddle with the people. One tried to come
into my bag and awoke me. I did not blame the poor dogs, for it was far
more comfortable inside than outside. When I awoke in the morning the
weather was fine, there was no wind, and some of the Lapps took the
reindeer to their new pasture.
After breakfast, my host and I drove to see some of his friends who had
pitched their tent some forty or fifty miles from us. On our way we
entered a large forest of fir trees, and soon after found ourselves in
the midst of a number of deep holes dug by reindeer in order to reach
the moss. We also saw furrows made by Lapp sleighs and tracks of skees.
The holes increased in number as we got deeper into the forest, and
driving instead of being a pleasure became a hard task. There was no
mistake about that. Our little sleighs pitched forward, then side-wise,
and rolled on one side or the other. I had the hardest work to keep
inside. At last I was pitched into one of the holes with my sleigh
almost on top of me. This was no joke. Fortunately I had undone the
twist of my rein round my wrist, for I did not wish to be dragged
against a tree in case I did upset. I was soon in my sleigh again,
however, and before long Pehr Wasara said: "We shall come to the tent of
my friend very soon." He had hardly uttered these words when we heard
the fierce barking of dogs announcing our arrival. Soon after we found
ourselves before a tent.
These dogs were strange looking, a breed I had never seen; they had the
dark color of the brown bear, and were without tails. A man came out to
silence them. He was the owner of the tent, the friend of Pehr Wasara.
He bade us in, we were made welcome, and the snuffbox was passed around.
Coffee was made and served to us with true Lapp hospitality, but to my
taste it was seasoned with a little too much salt.
We had a grand time. A big kettle filled with reindeer meat was cooked,
and Pehr Wasara told his friend all the news, and how his son had come
with me to see him. The place of honor was given to us in the tent; we
slept well, under a lot of skins, and the next morning after breakfast
we bade our host and his family good-bye.
We had not been gone long when I saw something very strange ahead. An
exclamation escaped from me. I stopped. I thought I saw the ground
covered with hares. I could see them moving. "What are such great
numbers of hares doing here?" I said to myself. They moved in such a
strange manner; they seemed to jump, or rather leap. Suddenly I saw my
mistake. "These are not hares," I exclaimed; "but the tails of reindeer
just above the snow. That is all I see of their bodies. The rest is
hidden. They have dug the snow and are eating the moss, and their tails
are in motion." I had never seen such a sight before. It was a queer
landscape; over two thousand tails shaking above the snow at about the
same time. This herd also belonged to Pehr Wasara, who was smiling all
over when he saw how amazed I was at this sight.
[Illustration: "They were really working hard for their living."]
Then we continued our journey, and soon found ourselves in the midst of
hundreds and hundreds of reindeer of all sizes. They were just beginning
to dig the snow with their fore legs. How strange was the sight! As we
passed among them they were not in the least afraid of us. They were
left to themselves. There were no dogs with them, and no people to
watch.
Every reindeer was working as hard as he could, busily digging in the
snow. They were evidently hungry. I said to Pehr Wasara: "Let us stay
here a while; I want to watch the reindeer working." Pehr, who had been
accustomed to see reindeer all his life, wondered at my curiosity, which
seemed rather to amuse him. They dug with the right fore foot, then with
the left, rested at times, then worked again. It was hard work indeed,
but the holes got larger and larger. The bodies gradually disappeared in
the holes they made, and were partly hidden by the little mounds of snow
coming from these holes, until only the tails of many could be seen.
They had reached the moss of which they were so fond. They were really
working hard for their living.
Some of the female reindeer were working with a will, while the young
does were looking on, and when the moss had been reached the mothers
called the calves by a peculiar grunt and let them feed by their side.
After looking at the reindeer for a while, we continued our journey and
were completely lost in the midst of deep holes made by the thousands of
reindeer. Wherever we turned we discovered holes and mounds, until we
came to fresh furrows of sleighs and knew that these led to an
encampment. We had succeeded in getting out of the honeycombed track
into a smooth and open region.
All at once I noticed that Pehr Wasara was going much faster than I did.
I was losing ground. His reindeer seemed now to fly over the snow.
Suddenly he disappeared; he was going down a hill. Now it was the turn
of my reindeer to go fast. I prepared myself for the occasion, for I did
not know how steep was the descent. I said to myself, "Paul, you must
not upset; bend your body on the opposite side when the sleigh makes the
curve, and be quick when the time arrives. Do this in the nick of time."
Down I went. The animal reached the bottom, and before I knew it made a
sharp curve to prevent the sleigh striking his legs. I gave a shout of
joy. I had not upset. I felt quite proud.
At the next hill I was more proud than ever, for Pehr Wasara upset and I
did not, but I had never seen a Lapp get quicker into a sleigh than he
did. Further on Pehr stopped and waited for me. When I came to him I
found myself on the edge of a long and very abrupt hill, and he said:
"This hill is too steep, we must descend it in long zigzags, so that the
sleighs may not strike the legs of our reindeer, for if we do not do
this the sleigh will go faster than the reindeer. Follow in my track,
and use your stick with skill to guide the sleigh. Your reindeer will
follow mine without trouble."
Hill after hill was ascended and descended. Now I had got the knack. At
every sharp curve I managed to bend my body out on the other side in
time, and thus avoided being thrown out. Then we came to a forest of
large fir trees, which surprised me, for we were in 69 degrees latitude.
The trees were very thick. Pehr Wasara alighted and led his reindeer,
for fear of striking against them, and I did likewise. It was a relief
to move one's legs, for it is very tiresome to sit for hours with legs
stretched out. Afterwards we got again into our sleighs, and at the end
of a pleasant drive we reached our own tent and I was received with a
hearty welcome by the family.
The next day Pehr said to me, "We are going to kill some reindeer this
morning, for the skins of the animals are at their best now and their
fur is very thick. We want clothing, shoes, and gloves. With their
sinews we will make our thread. We want also new reins, new traces, new
lassos."
In the afternoon eight reindeer were brought before the tent. These were
to be slaughtered. My host said to me: "Paulus, we are going to show you
how we slaughter our reindeer." An old bull was brought forward and one
of the Lapps seized the animal by the antlers, and by a peculiar twist,
without apparently great effort, threw him on his back. Then he thrust a
long, sharp, narrow knife deeply between his forelegs until it pierced
the heart, where he let it remain. The poor creature rose dazed, turned
round upon himself twice, then tottered and fell dead.
I did not like the sight, but I was studying the life of the Laplanders
and I had to see everything for myself. After the blood had accumulated
in the cavity of the chest it was removed and put into a bladder. The
intestines were taken out and washed. The skin belonging to the forehead
between the eyes, and from the knees to the hoofs, was cut off from the
rest of the hide.
"This," said Pehr Wasara, "will be for shoes and gloves;" and each piece
was stretched on wooden frames, likewise the skin of the carcass. The
tongues were set aside, the host saying to me, "If it were summer we
would smoke them." The sinews were collected for thread.
The other reindeer were then butchered, and the meat placed on the racks
outside of the tent.