FOUR-FOOTED FRIENDS
The brief thunder-storm was over, the high noonday sun was shining down
into the clearing, and the rumble of Thor's hammer could be heard only
faintly in the distance. In the trees overhead the birds were calling to
one another, shaking the drops of rain from many a twig and leaf as they
flitted among the green branches.
Erik's father took up a stout birch staff which was leaning against the
tent, and led the way to the reindeer pasture, followed by his dogs.
These dogs are the useful friends of the Lapps. They are very strong and
brave, and watch the reindeer constantly to keep them together. When the
herd is attacked by a pack of wolves, the frightened animals scatter in
all directions, and then the owner and his dogs have hard work to round
them up again.
Now, as the dogs walked along behind their master, they stopped once in a
while to sniff the air, and their keen eyes seemed to see everything.
The country was wild and desolate. As far as the eye could reach, there
was nothing but low hills, bare and rocky, with dark forests of fir and
birch. It was cold and the wind blew in strong gusts. Tiny rills and
brooks, formed by the melted snow and the frequent rains, chattered
among the rocks; and in the deepest hollows there were still small
patches of snow.
Birger gathered up some of the snow and made a snowball. "Put it in your
pocket, and take it home to Oscar as a souvenir of Lapland," Gerda
suggested.
"No," he replied, taking out his camera, "I'll set it up on this rock and
take a picture of it,--snowball in July."
"You'd better wait until you see the reindeer before you begin taking
pictures," called Gerda, hurrying on without waiting for her brother.
In a few moments more they came in sight of the herd, and saw animals of
all sizes, many of them having superb, spreading antlers.
"Look," said Erik's father, pointing to the reindeer with pride, "there
are over three hundred deer,--all mine."
"All the needs of the mountain Lapps are supplied by the reindeer,"
Lieutenant Ekman told the children. "These useful animals furnish their
owners with food, clothing, bedding and household utensils. They are
horse, cow, express messenger and freight train. In summer they carry
heavy loads on their backs; in winter they draw sledges over the snow."
Some of the reindeer were lying down, but others were eating the short,
greenish-white moss which grows in patches among the rocks, tearing it
off with their forefeet. They showed no signs of fear at the approach of
the strangers, and did not even stop to look up at them.
Two or three moved slowly toward Erik when he spoke to them, but not one
would touch the moss which he held out in his hand.
"This is my own deer," Erik told Birger, showing a mark on the ear of a
reindeer which had splendid great antlers. "He was given to me when I was
born, to form the beginning of my herd. I have ten deer now, but I would
gladly give them all to my father if he would let me go to Stockholm with
you."
Lieutenant Ekman turned to the father. "It shall cost him nothing," he
said. "Are you willing that he should go?"
"Yes, if he does not want to stay here," replied the father, who had
hoped that the sight of the reindeer would make his son forget his
longing to leave home.
Erik nodded his head. "I want to go," he said.
"Then it is settled," said Lieutenant Ekman, "and I will see that he
learns a good trade."
"Yes, it is settled," agreed Erik's father; "but I had hoped that my son
would live here in Lapland and become an owner of reindeer. There are not
so many owners as there should be."
"Why, I thought that all Laplanders owned reindeer!" exclaimed Birger.
"No," said his father, "there are about seven thousand Lapps in Sweden,
but only three or four hundred of them own herds. There are the fisher
Lapps who live on the coast; and then there are the field Lapps who live
on the river-banks and cultivate little farms. It is only the mountain
Lapps who own reindeer and spend all their lives wandering up and down
the country, wherever their herds lead them."
"What do the reindeer live on in the winter when the snow covers the
moss?" questioned Birger.
"The Lapps have to find places where the snow is not more than four or
five feet deep, and then the animals can dig holes in the snow with their
forefeet until they reach the moss," replied his father. "The reindeer
are never housed and seem to like cold weather. They prefer to dig up the
moss for themselves, and will not eat it after it has been gathered and
dried."
Just then the Lapp mother came to speak to her husband, and in a few
minutes all the rest of the family arrived.
"They are going to milk the reindeer," Erik explained to Gerda.
"How often do you milk them?" she asked.
"Twice a week," was the answer. "They give only a little milk, but it is
very thick and rich."
Erik and his brother Pers went carefully into the herd and threw a lasso
gently over the horns of the deer, to hold them still while the mother
did the milking. The twins looked on with interest; but to their great
astonishment not one of the reindeer gave more than a mug of milk. They
had been used to seeing brimming pails of cow's milk at the Ekman farm in
Dalarne.
"How do they ever get enough cream to make butter?" questioned Gerda.
"We never make butter, but we make good cheese," Erik's mother explained,
as she brought a cup of milk for them to taste.
"What do these people eat?" Gerda asked her father, when the woman went
back to her milking.
"The reindeer furnish them with milk, cream, cheese and meat; and when
they sell an animal they buy coffee, sugar, meal, tobacco, and whatever
else they need. Then they catch a few fish and kill a bear once in a
great while."
"I have killed two bears in my life," Erik's father said with pride.
"Look," and he showed his belt, from which hung a fringe of bears' teeth.
"Do all the Lapps know how to speak Swedish?" Birger questioned.
"And do they all know how to read and write?" added Gerda.
Lieutenant Ekman nodded. "Most of them do," he replied. "Our government
provides teachers and ministers for the largest settlements, so that the
Laplanders may become good Swedish subjects."
"My brother and I went to school in Jockmock last winter," said Erik, who
had overheard the conversation. "It is a Lapp village near Gellivare, and
my father goes there sometimes to sell toys that we carve from the
antlers of the reindeer."
A little five-year-old girl, who had hardly taken her eyes from Gerda's
face, suddenly put up her hand and took off a leather pouch which hung
around her neck. Opening the pouch, she took from it a tiny bag made of
deerskin.
Gerda had noticed that each one of the family wore just such a pouch, and
she had seen the mother open hers, when she was making the coffee, and
take from it a silver spoon.
From the deerskin bag the child next took a small box made of bone, and
by this time Birger and all the others were watching her with interest.
Off came the cover of the box. Out of the box came a tiny package wrapped
carefully in a bit of woolen cloth, and out of the wrappings came a
precious treasure.
"Look," exclaimed Gerda when she saw what it was; "it is a perfect little
reindeer!"
And so, indeed, it was,--a tiny animal made from a bit of bone, with
hoofs, head and antlers all perfectly carved.
The child held it out toward Gerda, nodding her head shyly to show that
she wished to have her take it. But Gerda hesitated to do so until Erik
said, "My father will make her another. You gave her the string of
shells, and she will not like it if you refuse her gift."
So Gerda took the little reindeer, and many a time in Stockholm, the next
winter, she looked at it and thought of the child who gave it to her, and
of the curious day she spent with the Lapps in far away Lapland.