THE WORST MARCHES OF ALL
One of the ladies of the house, a tall person with a vague squint,
aroused us next morning by coming into the sour-smelling dairy to
deposit the morning produce of the cows. We woke with evil-tasting
mouths and went outside. In the kitchen, across the narrow lobby, the
man with one ear was making a bowl out of a knob of birch, and as he
seemed the person of most consideration available, we demanded from him
that three carriers should be ready for us in a couple of hours' time to
convoy us and our chattels to Scurujärvi or Küstula. We did not request;
we demanded. We understood the Arctic Finn by this time, and were quite
aware that he only construes civility as weakness.
At first the one-eared man refused to understand what we needed. He went
on with his work upon the birch-root. He had a long-handled felling axe,
and his sheath-knife, and he used them both, and was rapidly evolving a
shapely bowl out of chaos. But we had no special wish just then to watch
him carpenter, so we gently but firmly took the utensils away from him,
and backed him up against a wall, and spoke to him in a language which
he could understand.
He admitted that he knew of our needs, but protested his inability to
supply them. He said that all available males were far away from Pokka
on one errand and another, and he alone was left as protection of the
women and children. We pointed out that failing other carriers, we
should impress him into our service himself, whether he liked it or
whether he did not. And upon that he remembered where there was one man,
and set out there and then to find him.
We accompanied him into the lobby. Pat was there with the squinting
lady, making a purchase of butter. The butter-store was pressed down
into a tub without salt, and emitted a fine rancid scent. The lady with
the squint gouged it out with her delicate fingers and packed it in a
birch-bark box, which she afterwards weighed on a steelyard. Pat in the
meanwhile was helping himself from an ancient cask of evil-smelling
buttermilk, in which the grimy dipper hung ready for all who chose to
thirst.
It is curious to note how the Lapp and the Northern Finn contrives to
make his food unappetising. Of course a constant diet of fresh milk
would entail constant biliousness; milk curdled, or slightly acid
buttermilk, is much more wholesome. But they go to the far extremes of
decomposition. They never eat fresh fish: they split, gut, and partly
dry the produce of the river, and then allow it to go half rotten, and
then they eat it. They prepare their reindeer meat and their cow meat in
the same way. A French peasant, even if he were as slack and lazy as the
Finn, would out of the Finn's provisions live deliciously. But this
slouching fisher-farmer of the North prefers to feed on carrion, and any
luckless foreigners who come into his country must accept his diet (if
indeed they can persuade him to sell them food) or else they must
starve.
We took a turn outside to sketch an iron cresset for winter fishing,
like the one we had seen at the upper end of Enare See; and then we went
back to the dairy and did a little tailoring at the more important rents
in our garments. The children of Pokka were brought in to stare; it was
an education for them to see strangers; and at intervals an unattached
female with soft, cows' eyes came and loafed in the doorway. She had
rather pretty feet, and Hayter set to work sketching her with one hand
whilst he beat off the flies with the other. But as soon as she saw that
portraiture was in the wind, she brisked up. She bade him wait a minute,
and trotted away. And presently she came clumping back again, in a pair
of brand-new, light brown top-boots with turn-up toes all complete, and
posed against the log wall with her skirts drawn tightly back so as to
show as much leather as possible. She was very proud of those boots.
Whilst this portrait was progressing, the master of the house came back,
bringing with him a tall, gaunt Finn with a black chin-beard, a haggard
face, and sunken eyes. He wore his trousers stuffed into high boots, and
his upper man was decorated with a red striped shirt. A huge
sheath-knife dangled from his broad-buckled belt, and at intervals he
delivered himself of a most dramatically racking cough. As the imitation
of a stage pirate struck with illness and remorse he was very fine, but
as a carrier he was obviously useless.
We pointed this out, and the man with one ear admitted it. He mentioned
that he had told us so already. He said it was a solemn fact that Pokka
had no men in residence who could come with us as carriers, and
suggested that we should take on the three Lapps who had brought us so
far. The pirate took a keen interest in the proceedings. He went out and
fetched the Lapps, and they stood against the doorway with expectant
smiles. They thought they were going to be paid off.
The proposition was put to them that they should take us on farther
through the country, and promptly their faces grew gloomy. They pointed
out their sore feet and galled shoulders, and explained volubly that
they had already come a great deal farther from home than they had
originally intended. They were very like children in their changes of
facial expression. Johann, in particular, who came into the room on the
full, broad grin, looked for all the world as though he were on the
verge of blubbering.
What a weary argument it was! First Hayter spoke, then the one-eared
Finn lifted up his voice, and then I chimed in; and between each
separate piece of talk the pirate expostulated and coughed and explained
till he was breathless. The three Lapps did not reply in words. They
merely stood in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot, and looking
sulky and frightened and sullen. Only one thing kept them from being
complete masters of the situation: their earned wages were still in our
pockets.
The beauty of acquiring a still further store of marks did not appeal to
them in the least; what was owing already was a fortune to each; and
from time to time they besought us to pay up honestly and let them
begone, and we as steadily refused. There were no new arguments to bring
forward, no new objections to raise, and we, and the pirate, and the
one-eared Finn with the expressionless face, talked on for four mortal
hours, before the delectable three saw fit to give way. I believe they
enjoyed the harangue; I am sure the pirate did; and I am equally sure
that we two foreigners did not.
* * * * *
The three Lapps were certainly foot-sore and shoulder-galled, and when
at last they did start with us, one could not but be sorry for them, and
they were undeniably sorry for themselves. But they soon made the best
of the inevitable. We started off in a narrow canoe up a shallow creek
between beds of tiny reeds and horsetails, and as soon as the paddles
began to get into swing, their sulkiness passed from them like clouds
from a summer sun. Pat grinned, and began negotiations for securing the
lightest load; Pedr smiled beautifully over the steering paddle; and
Johann broke out into a series of yells and roars which I think he
intended as a boating song.
We landed by the other third of Pokka, a new house with two glass
windows and a chimney of rubble stone. It seemed silent and deserted.
The Lapps swung on past it at a limping gait, making the best of their
ailments now that we were really on the road; and in three or four miles
we found ourselves coming into a new phase of scenery. The trees of a
great forest were round us, but they were older and finer trees than
those we had come across heretofore. Reindeer moss carpeted the ground,
and little black and tan lemmings ran about amongst the moss. As usual
there were frequent swamps. But even these had changed in character. In
the distance--and before we got to them to discover their wetness--they
looked like lawns. It was hard to realise we were still deep within the
cold, black Arctic Circle. In fact the whole country had that
"park-like" appearance which is the great feature that always strikes
every one about certain parts of Central Africa.
If all Arctic Lapland were like this slip of territory between Pokka and
Scurujärvi, it would be worth the visits of lovers of beauty. The long
tree-aisles bedecked with every shade from banana green to black, and
peopled with the moving forms of deer, the green and silver of the
birches with the living lace-work shadows, the glorious heaven above,
and the ivory-yellow moss beneath, made up a marvel of colour and form
which we told ourselves it would be hard to equal in a more Southern
land. But it must be confessed that such oases of comeliness were rare;
and perhaps from contrast with the aching wildernesses in which they
were set, we were slightly apt to over-estimate their beauty.
There was some indication of a trail, too, nearly all the way. We would
come upon a swamp, and see a broken path of logs winding across it like
some long, gray snake, which disappeared here and there in the grass.
Very good ankle-traps these log-tracks were too, for they were all
shockingly rotten, and would turn sometimes almost before one trod on
them. Nobody was interested in keeping them up, and one wondered why
they had ever been put down. There is no summer traffic between the
scattered farms of Arctic Lapland.
At one place we sat down for a halt in a broad savanna of grass, which
must have been a dozen miles in circumference. There was not a bird to
be seen, and, for once, there were comparatively few mosquitoes. But
instead there were millions of dragon-flies, artificial-looking insects,
which irresistibly reminded one of tin and clockwork mechanisms from the
Lowther Arcade.
It was here, I remember, that the Lapps gave us a fine example of their
fastidiousness about drink. The prairie was pitted with ponds and seamed
with rivulets, and Hayter and I quenched our thirst from the stream
which was nearest to our bivouac. Johann went and sampled it carefully,
and then spat the water from his lips. It was not sufficiently cold for
his taste. He went on farther and tried again, and farther and tried
again, and still farther and farther, sampling and spitting. He was very
tired, very foot-sore, and very thirsty; he was absolutely without the
most elementary niceness in his food requirements, but in this matter of
drink he did not mind how much trouble he spent so that he got his water
icily cold. He spent an hour searching for a suitable tap, and when he
had got it, consumed just one half-pint. And then Pat, who had been to
much engaged in scratching himself to take part in the hunt, went off to
share in its fruits.
Hills rose up ahead of us as we marched on, the highest we had seen
since Enare, and our way lay through an alley fenced in by silvery
birch-stems. The Lapps waddled wearily with their burdens; the Arctic
sun beat fiercely on us from overhead; and the mosquitoes came out again
to remind us that the flesh indeed was weak. The miles rolled themselves
up most tediously.
One soon loses count of time under these conditions of tiredness, and
insufficient food, and fever from bites; and marching becomes mechanical
after the first few miles, and even the joy at seeing new country is
staled. Only one thing puts spirit into the pace, and that is the sight
of axe-work, which heralds the neighbourhood of man. Scurujärvi as usual
advertised itself in this way. We topped a ridge and found ourselves
amongst the stumps of a clearing. Unconsciously we all straightened
ourselves. There was nothing in sight yet, but the next bridge showed us
the town--of one house--and the long, narrow sliver of lake from which
it took its name. The carriers' limping waddle quickened into almost a
run. We swung down the slopes, threw open the slip-rails of a
fence--veritable slip-rails!--and brought up before the front of the
house in quite dashing style. A sloping-way of planks led up to the
door. A hard-visaged, capable madame beckoned us up, and with
business-like promptitude showed us into the inevitable dairy-bedroom.
It really looked as though we had stumbled into decent quarters at last.
The room was clean, and held a high, white, stone stove garnished with
bunches of juniper. The milk-tubs stood orderly on rows of shelves, and
their sourness was not obtrusive. And on one of the shelves was actually
a book--a large, heavily-bound, religious book, with metal clasps and
dull-red edges. The sight of it cheered us; it was the first time for
many a weary mile we had come across folk human enough to possess a
book. But as we got to know the people of Scurujärvi better, doubts
assailed us on this point; and we looked inside the book, and found it
was printed in the black letter; and we were driven to the conclusion
that it was there more as a fetish than a thing of use.
The family lived in the big kitchen, and consisted of a long, feckless
Finn, who was the owner of Scurujärvi; his limp, sickly wife, who was a
new-made mother; a swarm of tow-headed, bare-legged brats; and two older
boys who had grown to the stage of high boots and private tar-bottles.
These two boys we were destined to see more of. The elder came into our
room first to inspect us. He wore his ragged trousers tucked into the
high boots aforesaid, and suspended by one brace over a gratuitously red
shirt. His face and his whole get-up was one which we knew--one which a
great many thousand other people know also.
"By Jove!" said Hayter, when the boy came into the room first. "Look
there. 'Huckleberry Finn!'"
"No other," said I.
And then the younger brother came in, and we stared in wonder upon "Tom
Sawyer." It seemed as if the pair of them had stepped direct from Mr.
Mark Twain's book and merely forgotten the soft, drawling mother-tongue
of the Mississippi Valley in transit.
But they were not permitted to enjoy the luxury of staring at the
foreigner, and posturing before him for long. The bustling, hard-visaged
madame came in and sent them off about some farm business, and then she
brought us in a couple of armfuls of hay to make up beds on the floor.
But we knew the ways of Lapland hay, and with the naked eye we could see
the live-stock pervading the hay she brought. So we thanked her
profusely, and said we preferred to sleep on the boards of the floor.
She did not seem inclined to give way at first. She was a masterful
woman, accustomed to having her own wishes carried out to the letter,
and she had all the rest of that slack, Finnish household (with the
possible exception of Huckleberry and Tom) under her large and most
capable thumb. In fact, to be precise, she was a travelling midwife, and
she had come to the house professionally, and at a time when her wishes
would be obeyed. But sleep on that tick-pervaded hay we would not, and
so finally after a lot of loud-voiced expostulations--she always spoke
in a shout--she took it out and left us in peace.
Then the Lapp carriers came in to be paid off, and as they took such
pains to assure us that the way down to Küstula was now easy, and that
we should have not the smallest difficulty in finding transport on the
morrow, we began to have distinct visions of a further block in the
journey. However, carriers or no carriers, it was a certain thing that
we could get no more work out of these three Lapps, and we were rather
ashamed of ourselves for having pressed willing men too hard already. It
was a fact that they were terribly foot-sore and knocked up. So we gave
them their hard-earned wages, and a trifle beyond, which they did not
expect; and presented them with a black cake of _Windward's_ tobacco
apiece, and our united blessings; all of which luxuries they accepted
with delighted noise and laughter. As a fitting climax to all his other
pleasing eccentricities, Johann tried to sell us the little brass
finger-ring which he wore tied in the end of his neck-handkerchief. He
said it was his betrothal ring and was made of gold, and he would
sacrifice it to us for the absurdly small sum of twenty marks. But as he
had become engaged, according to his own account, to every marriageable
woman we had met along the road, we thought that others would have a
better claim on it than we, and so forbore to present him with a further
sovereign. At which he nearly lifted the roof off with his great shouts
of laughter: it was all the same to Johann whether he swindled us
successfully or whether he got caught in the act; he was equally amused
with either occurrence.
The Lapps were to sleep in one of the barns, and as it was the last time
we should probably meet on this earth, we escorted them across to their
bedchamber. We passed through a tiny field of growing barley, the first
we had seen in this northern latitude, and then we came upon the wooden
outbuilding of the farm. Half was hay-chamber, half mistal, and set
between the stalls for the cows was a great square stove of rubble stone
to give the beasts heat during the perishing cold of winter. And there
we said our last good-byes to the men who had served us so well, and
went back towards our own sleeping-place.
The lake below the house lay like glass, and the narrow cones of the
pines on the opposite shore were mirrored exactly in its surface. Pink
clouds swam below them. On the lake-shore was a bath-house with its
empty doorway blackened by smoke, and in the eaves a couple of martins
had built a nest in a coil of birch-bark. From the dwelling-house came
the voice of the midwife, scolding.
* * * * *
Now, to give a full account of the exasperations of Scurujärvi would be
quite impossible in this place, because some of the remarks which we
felt compelled to make to that lanky, feckless Finn who owned the place
were intended for his private ear alone. We had to tell him exactly
what we thought of him many many weary times.
In the first instance, further progress by carriers was obviously out of
the question, because, except for the feckless one himself, there was
not a man about the place. But there were sledges. There were no horses
or reindeer available, but something in the cow line would serve our
purpose, and we demanded therefore a sledge and a cow. Upon which there
fell an avalanche of talk. The limp woman with the new-born baby stood
in the doorway of the dairy-bedroom to listen, and the gaunt midwife
came inside and added her clatter to the rest. It seemed that for a
thousand reasons a cow and a sledge were unavailable.
We ceded the point; we had an alternative plan. Our romancing map
depicted a lake before this town of Scurujärvi, and our eyes showed us
that the lake was there. This propped up the map's credit. It also
showed a stream running out of this lake and joining the main river at
Küstula, which drained into the Gulf of Bothnia. So by way of
discovering whether this linking stream did really exist, we boldly
demanded a canoe, which should take us down to Küstula by water.
The feckless Finn seemed struck with the idea; it had not occurred to
him before. He said we should start immediately, and after the trifling
delay of three more hours, and by dint of unremitting exertions on our
part, we did start. There were four of us in the canoe: ourselves and
our baggage amidships, Huckleberry forward with the paddles, and Tom
Sawyer aft, with solemn importance on his face, and the steering paddle
under his arm. The two boys had provisioned the canoe with a pyramidal
keg of buttermilk, and evidently looked forward to the perils of this
expedition through the unknown with keen and gloomy pleasure.
Huckleberry wore a sheath-knife two feet long dangling from his belt,
and Tom by way of armament had by his side the most enormous wood-axe I
ever put eyes upon. The accuracy of their get-up would have delighted
Mr. Mark Twain wonderfully.
We started in style, and a mob of tow-headed children came down to the
edge of the shallows as we pushed off. Huckleberry paddled us across a
small bay of the lake, and then Tom, with set teeth, steered the canoe
into the mouth of the six-foot-wide stream which drained it. The water
was too narrow for paddles here, and so they stood up and punted,
insisting on our keeping our places; and really the sight of those two
boys solemnly playing at being explorers, was one of the funniest things
we had seen for many a long day. If it pleased them to do the work, we
did not mind. We had gone through enough toil recently to make us glad
of the rest, and later, when they got tired, and the stream grew wider
and swifter, we could take over the canoe from their charge.
In fact we formed a quite appetising dream of what the voyage would be
down the Scurujoki to Küstula, and so it came all the more unpleasantly
to us when we found that this river-passage was impracticable. First we
arrived at a tree fallen squarely across the stream, and we got out and
lifted the canoe across this by main force. Then the Scurujoki widened
into mere trickling shallows, and we waded and lifted till we were
tired. And then, lo! the stream vanished altogether, being absorbed into
a vast green quagmire which filled all the valley-floor. So we sat down
on the baggage and stated exactly to one another what we thought of the
feckless Finn who owned Scurujärvi farm, and then with toil and
weariness set about to work the canoe back to the place from which she
had come.
We were tolerably savage at being let in for this _fiasco_, and should
probably have explained to the feckless one with energy how remiss it
was of him not to know the country five hundred yards away from his own
front-door; but when we set foot again on the lake-shore below the
house, these thoughts of war were swept from us by a feeling of wonder
and surprise. Another caravan had arrived from the direction in which we
were going, and the principals of it were walking in even then to take
possession of the dairy-bedroom. Their carriers sat outside the
house-door on the sloping-way of planks. There were three of them: two
sturdy down-country Finns, and a weird Lapp with lank, black hair, and
yellow, pock-marked face, and a square Lapp's cap of dead-black cloth.
These were the first travellers of any sort we had met in all Arctic
Lapland, and we marvelled at what could be their business. Presently the
two principals came out of the dairy-bedroom and talked with us. The
elder was a huge man, deep-bearded and heavy-paunched, with a frown on
his face and few words to spare. The younger was aged perhaps thirty,
had a cut-away chin, and brimmed with words. We tried one another in a
whole continent of languages, and finally pitched upon Latin as the only
one we had any working knowledge of in common. It was on both sides
schoolboy dog-Latin of the most canine variety, and because of the
difficulties of pronunciation we could not interchange ideas even
through this medium by word of mouth. So every syllable of our chat was
scrawled with a stub of pencil upon the rough-hewn door of Scurujärvi
farm.
"Potesne nobis dicere," we wrote, "si possibile est invenire equum nos
portare de Kittila ad mare?"
And the man with the cut-away chin replied; "Currus est in Kittila."
"Estne via bona?" we asked.
"Est via, sed non bona. Sed via est."
It was quite a delightful exercise conversing through the rags of this
dimly-remembered tongue. But we did not talk for long, and we only
learned some vague facts about our future course. Theirs was only a
temporary halt. They were soon on the march again, and our curiosity
concerning them grew high. The two principals started off first, the
carriers following them; but when these last were just on the move, one
of them, a Finn, turned back to us and pointed to his Lappish companion.
We looked, and for the first time saw strapped outside the Lapp's pack a
pair of leg-shackles, bright and ferociously heavy. The Finn laughed and
pointed to the big man with the heavy beard ahead, and then he turned
away from us and set off on the march.
Whether he meant that the bracelets were destined for the big man's
ankles, or whether the big man was going to put them on some one else,
we never discovered. None of the party wore the least vestige of
official garb, and yet heavy leg-shackles are not usually part of the
travelling kit of private individuals. Was the big man a political
offender, doomed to exile in fetters amongst Lapland swamps? Or was he
an officer of justice on the road to capture some sinning Lapp? Or was
he some invalid, suffering from occasional fits of madness, and taking
heavy curative exercise under the care of an attendant who had
repressive measures handy? We never found out.
An American would have solved the problem by bluntly asking; but we
somehow lacked that simple directness of questioning which is the
birthright of the great nation across the water. Besides, the man with
the cut-away chin had said that they had come up through Küstula and
Kittila, and we promised ourselves satisfaction for our curiosity at
these places. And lo! when we did reach them, and pushed inquiries, it
was plain that we had been fubbed off with a lie, for the other caravan
had passed through neither spot. And so out of what part of the
wilderness they did come, or what was their errand, we do not know to
this day, though later on we certainly did make a conjecture.
* * * * *
Now all the while we had been engaged in these other matters we had not
been forgetful of our own business. We took the feckless Finn in hand,
turn and turn about, and (to use the beautiful symbolic language of the
sea) we twisted his tail. He did not like being roused from his
lethargy; he much would have preferred that we should have taken
permanent root at his expense in Scurujärvi; but four hours of energetic
tail-twisting produced its effect. A reindeer sledge, carvel-built and
boat-shape, was dragged out from beneath the flooring of the house; a
single-tree was made and lashed to the drawing thong under the sledge's
bow; a pair of shafts were cut and made fast to the single-tree; and
then Huckleberry was despatched to find a suitable animal for traction
amongst the grazing grounds of the forest. He was not long away; he came
back towing a steer, a little liver-and-white fellow with an inquiring
eye, and backed it in between the shafts. A collar with wooden hames
was put on the steer's neck, and the ends of the shafts were made fast
to these, and then a half-hoop of wood was put over the steer's withers
and lashed to the shafts, _à la Russe_, to keep them from chafing. The
feckless one roused sufficiently to make a grummet of withes to put
round the steer's nose, and Tom Sawyer made a head-stall out of string,
and bent on a check-rope to the grummet. We put our bundles into the
sledge, and lashed them there, and turned to give a final curse to the
feckless Finn. But he had dropped into contemplation again, and so he
missed our words, and we had to set off without the satisfaction of
leaving him stung.
The two boys were our escort, and the way at first was rough enough.
Thick forest was on the outskirts of the farm, and under the forest
trees were stones uncovered by moss or lichen. The little steer picked
his way over these cannily enough, but the sledge would only follow if
assisted, and so one or other of us had constantly to tail on behind to
keep it in the paths of rectitude. And then we had to pass across the
swampy valley. Logs had been laid down here to make some sort of a
footway, but it was more than the steer could do to make the passage
across these with the sledge bumping and sheering in his wake. So we had
to unyoke, and drag the sledge over ourselves; and when we got to the
other side, we found that the vehicle showed distinct signs of
disintegration. It was pinned together by wooden pegs, and these had got
dry and were falling out; and so there was nothing for it but to unload,
and sink the sledge in a pool of water till it swelled and tightened,
and in the meanwhile rest as philosophically as we could in the worst
stew of mosquitoes we had yet met in the Arctic Lapland. It was one of
the heaviest hours of torment I ever lived through.
Still at last the sledge swelled sufficiently, and we got limbered up
again, and this time the procession set off in more real earnest.
First came Tom Sawyer, high-booted, one-braced, preternaturally solemn
and important. He marched with knapsack on back, axe over shoulder, and
coat slung to knapsack, though of course he might just as well have put
these impedimenta on the sledge. He "blazed" unnecessary trees, and
peered into every thicket. He was evidently on the look-out for the
local story-book equivalent for "Injuns." He was inexpressibly funny.
Then came the little liver-and-white steer, half maddened by the
mosquitoes, rushing under every foliage tree on the way to brush off the
intolerable insects. At its heels the sledge bumped and swerved, and
beside the sledge stalked Huckleberry Finn, with the check-rope in his
hand and words of direction on his lips. And behind the tail-board of
the sledge came us two foreigners, ready to lend a hand when the sledge
threatened to capsize, which it did some four times every three
minutes.
The pace was not exhilarating. When everything went well, we covered
some four thousand yards to the hour. But every mile or so the steer
would get tired and flop down to rest, and on these occasions
Huckleberry would groom down its back with a sponge of moist pink moss,
and anoint its nose and eye-sockets with tar out of his private bottle;
whilst Tom Sawyer, in full panoply, stood afar off on watch and guard;
and the mosquitoes bit all of us still more terribly.
During one of these halts a figure showed itself amongst the tree aisles
which we had left, and presently who should come up but the grim-visaged
midwife we had left in Scurujärvi. She trudged on sturdily with a pack
on her back and her head well up, and she was soon out of sight amongst
the zigzags of the trees ahead. She had done her work at Scurujärvi, and
was going on to take up her next piece of employment fifty miles away.
There was nothing new in the country we passed through: forest
alternated with swamp, and swamp with forest, and the mosquitoes would
have done justice to the worst corner in hell. The journeying was
infinitely tedious. In one of the morasses it seemed as though we should
get stuck permanently. Only the sledge floated on the treacherous
surface. The steer was stuck in to the shoulders, and we four were sunk
to the breasts in trying to pull it out. There was no piece of sound
ground within a mile to get a purchase from, and how we ever did get
clear I do not know. That march is bad even to look back at. It seems
like the torment of some ghastly dream.
* * * * *
About half-way (I should think it must have been) we came upon men
again. They were builders, and they were making a house. For temporary
shelter they had run up a rough lean-to of slabs, and when we came up
they were eating, and the midwife, who had joined camp with them, was
eating also. Huckleberry and Tom joined in at the meal, producing their
own provision.
There was a good deal of difference between these builders of the Arctic
Zone and the sturdy British workman at home. The artificers here get
their orders, take provisions, a pair of axes, a grindstone, and a
couple of cross-cut saws, and start off to the site of their work. The
forest provides materials, which they cut as they want them; and from
these materials, and with their simple utensils, they evolve the whole
house and all the furniture thereof. How they live in the meanwhile I
have shown; and when they were not asleep they were at work. Remarkably
well they looked, too, under the experience.
We got into talk with one of these builders, and he told us a strange
thing. He said that a week before he had chanced to look up from his
work, and saw something "like an enormous bird without wings" move
quickly across the clearing far above his head. It was coloured green,
and he guessed it to be some sixty feet in length. Round its neck was a
big projecting ring, which made a whirring noise. He had never seen
anything of the like before, and did not know what to make of it. Could
we give an explanation?
Well we had ideas on the subject--distinct ideas--but we did not let
them out just then. This seemed very much the same thing that Johann had
talked about, describing it as a green fish, and which we had discussed
together over so many marches afterwards; and now we wanted to know more
about it. But that was all the builder could tell. He was a man of fair
intelligence, but he had only seen the thing for a very few seconds, and
had not gathered anything but a general impression. We asked him if it
was an air-ship, but that was a conception he could not understand. He
was certain, however, that he had seen no men on the concern, though
there was plenty of room for men inside--for twenty men for the matter
of that; and he was equally certain the whole thing was not an illusion
of the senses. He had seen what he said, neither more nor less, and he
stuck to it doggedly. And having said his say, he got up, and took an
axe and set it on the grindstone preparatory to work.
We got our caravan under way again after that, and perfunctorily tried
to talk on what we had heard; but the labours of the journey and the
horrible mosquito-plague were too heavy to give mere empty speculation
much of a chance. And when later on we discerned that the travellers
with the leg-shackles we had met at Scurujärvi had not been at either
Küstula or Kittila, as they asserted, then the subject got a new
interest. We connected them, somehow or other, with this mysterious
air-ship--we had convinced ourselves it was an air-ship by then--and
formed a thousand theories as to what might be their business. I wonder
if at any time we guessed anywhere near the truth?
A drenching dew came down as the night wore on, and the mosquitoes
lessened somewhat in their maddening attentions, and we marched a trifle
more easily. But we carried the marks of their work written on us in
ugly letters. Our arms were swollen from wrist to elbow, so that they
fitted tight in the gloves; we were bitten, bitten, bitten all over,
through corduroy, under boot-laces, under hair. The scraps of paper in
my pocket, on which I had been scribbling notes, were splodged with
blood till they were unreadable, and in this torment we had been
marching for ten consecutive hours before the dew came and brought
relief.
At last we came to an unmistakable track, which grew with use till it
became a real muddy lane running between two walls of forest. It was
made by the feet of men and cattle, and never had we been so pleased to
see mud before. It led us to a lake, which we skirted; and then we came
to another lane, and then another lake with fishing canoes drawn up and
nets hung out to dry. And there on the flank of a gently sloping hill we
saw a fine settlement of quite a dozen farms, well built and prosperous.
It was Küstula, and we had got there at last.
But the houses lay at the farther side, and to reach them we passed
between potato gardens, and a water-cress pond, and rye and barley
fields all fenced in and well tilled.
The steer was very nearly done, and so were we; but ahead of our caravan
there still marched the indomitable Tom, with the axe across his
shoulder and the knapsack dangling from his back. We drove up to the
biggest house and came to a halt in the courtyard, formed by the farm
buildings at its back.
There was a well in the courtyard, with the column of water sheathed in
white transparent ice. We rushed to it, lowered the bucket on the end of
the derrick, and hoisted again and again. I think we must have drunk a
bucketful apiece of that ice-cold water before the fever of our throats
was satisfied. It was six o'clock in the morning, and our clothes hung
on us dank with perspiration. The sun had never ceased beating upon us
and our hurts all the way from Scurujärvi.