LEAVE KARASJOK STILL TRAVELLING NORTHWARD.--THE RIVER TANA.--RIVER
LAPPS.--FILTHY DWELLINGS.--ON THE WAY TO NORDKYN.--THE MOST
NORTHERN LAND IN EUROPE.
On leaving Karasjok I travelled northward, over the frozen Karasjoki,
until I came to a broad stream called the Tana. As we drove on the river
I saw here and there solitary farms and strange little hamlets inhabited
by river Lapps.
The occupation of the river Lapps is largely salmon catching in summer.
These fish are very abundant in the rivers. Many, during the codfish
season, engage themselves as sailors on the Arctic Sea. Almost every
family has a small farm, stocked with diminutive cows; besides they have
sheep and goats. During the summer their reindeer are taken care of by
the nomadic Lapps. These reindeer have to go to the mountains near the
Arctic Sea, on account of the mosquitoes.
Now travelling was becoming very hard,--not on account of the snow, but
because the inhabitants and their dwellings were so dirty.
But I had one comfort. All over that far northern land I felt so safe;
it never came into my head that these people would rob me, though they
knew I had plenty of money with me, according to their ways of
thinking, to pay for reindeer and other travelling expenses; but the
Finns and the Lapps are a God-fearing people.
The first day, I came to a place occupied by a single man. The house was
so filthy, and vermin apparently so plentiful, that I whispered to my
Lapp guide, "Let us go on." The Lapp was so tired that he looked at me
with astonishment, and seemed to say: "Are not these comfortable
quarters?"
We got into our sleighs, however, and further on we stopped and tied our
reindeer together. The Lapp slept in his sleigh covered with a reindeer
skin, and I in my bag.
The next day we halted before a farm. It was dark. There we intended to
spend the night. The people do not lock their doors, neither do they
knock to obtain admittance. So we entered. The family were all in bed. A
man lighted a light. Such filth I thought I had never seen. The beds
were filled with dirty hay that had been there all winter. The sheepskin
blankets with the wool on were almost as black as soot. The people who
slept between them were without a particle of clothes. "What a place for
vermin!" I whispered to myself.
At this sight, I again said in a low voice to my Lapp, "Let us go on."
He replied, "The reindeer are hungry, and we have had no food ourselves
for long hours. Let us remain overnight and breakfast here to-morrow."
In the mean time the owner of the place got up, put on a long dirty
woolen shirt, and went with us into the next room, which was clean. I
gave a sigh of relief. The wooden bed had no hay, no sheepskin blankets.
The man got for me a clean reindeer skin which he said had just come out
of the open air, where it had been for several days.
To my consternation my Lapp guide offered to sleep alongside of me, and
added, "We shall be warmer if we sleep together." I was in a dilemma. I
did not want to offend him, but I told him that I always slept by
myself. Then the owner of the place spread another reindeer skin on the
floor, and my guide slept upon it.
The next morning we breakfasted on dried reindeer meat, hard bread, and
milk. After bidding our host good-bye, and thanking him for his
hospitality, we continued our journey, arriving towards noon at a farm
owned by a river Lapp. The farm had three buildings; only the wife and
daughter were at home. The husband was cod fishing in the Arctic Sea.
The wife told me she had been a sailor before she was married, and
engaged in cod fishing.
There were on this farm three diminutive cows, an ox of the size of the
cows, nine sheep, and they owned besides quite a number of reindeer. The
cows were getting smaller and smaller as I went north. In the little
dwelling-house was a small room for a stranger; reindeer skins made the
mattress. My guide and I ate together. We had excellent coffee, smoked
reindeer meat, and milk.
Further on we stopped awhile at a little farm owned by a woman and her
daughter. The mother and daughter worked as if they were men; they
fished for salmon in the river in summer, mowed hay, collected reindeer
moss to feed their cows, went after wood. A faithful dog was their
companion. At some seasons the daughter descended the river, and engaged
herself as one of the crew on board of a fishing boat on the Arctic
Ocean.
Resuming our journey we passed the church hamlet of Utsjoki. Near
Utsjoki I met some nomadic Lapps, who had a large herd of reindeer with
them, and were willing to take me to Nordkyn. That night I slept in
their tent. Early the next morning they lassoed some very fine reindeer,
which had superb horns and had not been used for quite a while. I did
not care now how fast the reindeer went, for I could keep inside of my
sleigh. The men said: "We will meet on the promontory Lapps with their
reindeer herds, and if it is very stormy we can go into their tent."
Soon after we started.
They were not mistaken in regard to the speed of their beasts. They set
off at a furious pace, and it was all I could do to keep inside of my
sleigh. My pride was up, and I was bound to do my utmost not to upset.
We finally reached the high promontory which divides the Laxe from the
Tana fjord, at the extremity of which is Nordkyn. It was blowing a gale
right from the north, and we had to protect our faces with our masks.
Fortunately we came to a Lapp encampment, and were received with great
kindness and hospitality; enjoyed a good meal of reindeer meat, and a
good sleep afterwards.
The next morning the weather was fine, and I drove on to Kjorgosk
Njarg--hard name to pronounce--the most northern land in Europe.
The land's end was nearing, and erelong I stood on the edge of Cape
Nordkyn, 71 deg. 6' 50"--the most northern end of the continent of Europe,
and rising majestically over seven hundred feet above the level of the
sea. Before me was the Arctic Ocean, and beyond, a long way off and
unseen by me, was the impenetrable wall of ice which the Long Night had
built to guard the Pole.
From there I could see North Cape.