Crossing The Torne

( Originally Published 1881 )

FROM Pajala the journey northwards may be continued in two ways : by ascending the Torne, or by crossing the narrow tract of land opposite Pajala, and going up the Muonio River. The first is the outlet of the Torne Lake, a considerable sheet of water, 1308 feet above the sea, the upper extremity of which is 68° 25' north, almost on a line parallel with the Ofoten fjord and the Lofoden Islands in Norway. On its banks are found the hamlets of Vittangi and Jukkasjarvi, the latter being a great rendezvous for Laplanders.

The Muonio is decidedly the better route, as it runs through a larger extent of country ; it rises in Lake Kilpisjarvi, the northern shores of which are a few miles above 69° lat., and form a part of the frontier between Russian and Swedish Finland. The country for twenty miles westward of Pajala is somewhat thickly settled, especially on the banks of the Tarend River.

The only way to travel in summer is by water. There are regular boat-stations, which supply lodgings and food. The fare, regulated by law, is at the rate of one krona a man for every Swedish mile, with a small additional sum for the use of the boat.

The journey on the Muonio is very exciting ; rapid after rapid is encountered, all danger being avoided by the wonderful dexterity of the boatmen. No fatigue is experienced, for during the nearly three hundred miles ascent one has to walk only now and then in order to avoid some of the worst parts of the river. Towards the end of June the river is much swollen. The rush of the water was very fine—the angry billows filling the forest with their roar.

On the last day of June, an hour and a half before mid-night, we crossed the Torne. Following the boatman, who carried my luggage on his back, after about an hour's walk I came to Kieksisvaara, the first boat-station, situated on a hill commanding a fine view of the country, and overlooking the river Muonio. The people were all asleep, as it was midnight; the sun had become paler and paler, its golden glow shedding a drowsy, quiet light over all the landscape, and a heavy dew was falling; the house-swallows had gone into their nests, the cuckoo was silent, and the sparrows could not be heard—nature seemed to have gone to rest in the midst of the sunshine.

The hills were covered to their tops with dark fir-trees ; contrasting with them was the green new foliage of the birch, the white trunks of which seemed, in the distance, like pillars of silver.

Suddenly. a door opened, and a maiden stood before me, looking at the sun, as if to ask what time it was. Her eyes were as blue as the sky above, and her complexion rosy; she was bareheaded and barefooted ; her yellow hair, hanging carelessly over her shoulders and falling below her waist, seemed to have been dyed by the rays of-that midnight sun ; her feet rested upon the green grass, which made them appear doubly white. Seeing me, she started, not expecting to meet a stranger, and was about to make a hasty retreat, when the voice of Josefsson in her own language 'reassured her. She stopped, and, looking at me, said: " Stranger, are you looking at the midnight sun ? now the sun shines night and day. But the summer in our far northern land is short ; it gives us hardly time to collect our harvest. Our winters are long and often stormy."

From this maiden my eyes were directed to the sun. Just after midnight I began to notice a change; the glow brightened, and increased rapidly to a magnificent red. The sun's rays gilded the forest and 'the hills, and nature seemed to be awake again ; the sun gradually became more brilliant, until at last it was so dazzling that I could not look at it.

Three boatmen were to take us up the river. One of them seized the little hand-bag containing my luggage, and we started. We soon stood on the banks of the clear Muonio, and we could hear the roar of the rapids, but the vapor rising from the water prevented us from seeing anything. It was then 1.30 A.M.; the thermometer marked 51°—a fall of 6° since 10.30 P.M.

Our boat was made of only four planks, and very light; its length was twenty-seven feet, and its greatest depth one foot nine inches; the broadest part was two feet eleven inches, at a distance of six to ten feet from the bow; the keel was two and a half inches wide. This form is the best for the turbulent stream and rapids; they have but little draught, and are very buoyant; the keel is strong, and protects the bottom when among the rocks, while heavy ribs protect the sides. Each boatman had a pole ten or twelve feet long, of great flexibility and strength, and no oars or rudders are used. My chief boatman, Hendricks Wilh, was at the bow, and the two others took their stations at the stern. We were soon con-fronted by a rapid, where the water was rushing between boulders with great force, and I was able to judge of the dexterity and strength required in this navigation. The poles are put under the boat instead of along-side, and are often much bent by its weight ; Hendricks supported himself and the other two boatmen against the inside, and soon was in a dripping perspiration. These currents have to be studied, in order to know how to steer.

As we pushed along we frequently disturbed stray flocks of ducks. Where the stream was not very swift we ascended rapidly. The river was deep, and its waters so clear that we could see the rocks and boulders resting upon its bed at a great depth.

After a journey of four hours we reached Kolare, having. travelled about three Swedish miles.* When we came to the house the silence of the place showed that every one was fast asleep, but our arrival was the signal for all the family to get up. The fare at these stations is of the plainest kind, and consists of bits of dry mutton, as tough as leather, smoked rein-deer meat, butter, cheese, milk, hard bread, and sometimes fish. The coffee would be very good, but is often spoiled by putting in a large quantity of salt, to give it flavor. They often have only the stangkakor.

In the travellers' room there is a fixed tariff for every article supplied, so that no imposition can be practised; but, of course, when a rich stranger comes, an effort is made to improve the fare—the coffee, for example, is made stronger—and for such attentions a little more is expected, and it should be given. I was charged only sixty ôre for my breakfast.

Near the house two boats were being constructed. These boat-stations are very convenient, allowing one in a hurry to travel fast, as at each place he gets fresh men, and has generally to wait but a short time; in twenty-four hours nine Swedish miles can be easily accomplished.

My new boatmen were brothers, whose appearance was singular. Their long, frizzly, fair hair fell below their necks, and it was so thick that they used a wire-card comb, similar to those formerly employed in carding wool by hand.

Between the stations of Huuki and Kilangi the distance is over four Swedish miles, and the ascent required nearly ten hours. Rapid after rapid was passed, and often I expected to be pushed back by the force of the water, and sent against the rock& or gigantic boulders; the poles of my boatmen fairly bent under the pressure, but they never slipped from their hands. At times we had to pass between rocks where there was just space enough to allow the boat to go through, while at other times we were sent back by the rush of the waters against the boulders. Accidents are rare, but when they hap-pen it is almost always in the descent, when the navigation is more dangerous than during the ascent. At the foot of long and dangerous rapids we went on shore, two of the boatmen pulling the boat with a long rope, while the third remained in it and steered close to the land.

The descent of the rapids at this time of the year, when the snow is melting, is full of excitement; the rafts of timber and boats follow the swift current of the stream, and would surely be destroyed but for the skill and daring of these boatmen.,

The river does not present the picturesque appearance of the Torne below Pajala. The banks are not high, often flat; but the water here also is so clear that it appeared like a sheet of glass.

How beautiful was the hour of midnight ! How red and gorgeous was the sun ! ' How. drowsy was the landscape; nature seemed asleep in the midst of sunshine; crystal dew-drops glittered like precious stones as they hung from the blades of grass, the petals of wild flowers, and the leaves of the birch-trees.

Before two o'clock the swallows were out of their nests, which they had constructed on the different buildings of the farm. How far they had come to enjoy the spring of this remote region ! I did not wonder that they. loved that beautiful but short summer, or that they came year after year to that Land of the Midnight Sun.

People who have seen only muddy rivers can hardly realize the beauty of such clear streams as those of Scandinavia. The clearness of the water makes one thirsty, and often I could not resist the temptation to test its purity.

Several miles were passed without seeing a house ; occasionally the smoke among the trees marked a place where the people were making tar, which is manufactured in great quantities. It was sad to see the havoc that devastating fires had made, destroying immense tracts of valuable timber.

Stopping for the night, I entered a house, and found the farmer and his wife in bed ; as I awoke them, the wife raised her head from the pillow, and said, "What do you want, strangers?" I replied, "We want to sleep here." "Welcome!" was the response. The good woman arose, put on her stockings and shoes, went into the next room, where she prepared a bed, and then produced from a pantry an ample supply of milk, bread, butter, cheese, and smoked reindeer meat, and said, "Eat, if you are hungry; drink, if you are thirsty, and go to bed ;" and then she bade me good-night, and went back to her room.

The red fir-tree has two varieties—the Pinus sylvestris, and another with shorter needles, the Pinus friesii. The tree here is exceedingly rich, and produces a great amount of resinous matter. Only the roots of trees that have been cut down are used, and thus no timber is destroyed; hence the forests that have been burned are not entirely valueless. These often remain in the ground for years, and are then dug out, and split into medium-sized pieces during the winter or spring ; they are of a deep red color, exceedingly hard, and so rich that when burned in an open fireplace the tar exudes. It is then prepared in the following manner: a favorable place is selected, where less labor is required in its manufacture, the spot chosen being on the declivity of a hill, or between two hillocks sloping gently towards each other. A hole or gully is excavated, from three to five feet in diameter; rails are put close together on the ground, gradually inclining towards the centre, so that the tar may flow into it; over these rails is placed a layer of birch-bark, which is covered with several inches of clay-like soil, the whole having the appearance of a basin, which varies from twenty to thirty feet in diameter. The pieces of wood from which the tar is to be extracted are Tiled carefully and closely in the hollow; then, when all is completed, the whole mass assumes something of the shape of a bee-hive, and is covered with earth. The roots are then set on fire, and, being smothered, burn slowly for several days, the tar dripping into the basin, and flowing out through the hole into a gutter placed in position to receive it. When by chance there are not barrels enough, the tar is kept for a time in hollows of the earth.

The tar is floated down the river in a singular manner. One or two rows of barrels are made fast, above and below, to long poles, and this sort of impromptu raft is then committed to the current, reaching its destination safely. Great quantities of tar come down from the rivers of the North.

Sweden has some years exported over one hundred thousand barrels.

While I wandered in the forest I often met several species of ants, among them was the Formica m {fa, called in Swedish stackmyra, common even thus far north. Following a well-beaten path I came to the ant-hills, which are about two and a half feet in height, apparently built of small pieces of wood. Great numbers were coming from every direction, each carrying its little stick, and depositing it. somewhere on the hill. When they ascended the sides of the hill the sticks under them would often give way, but they never relinquished their task till they had accomplished it. I had often to demolish their hill to the depth of about one foot before I found them. Many were carrying eggs, and when I placed a stick before them they would stand up on their hind legs and seize it, thus showing their bravery.

About twelve and a half Swedish miles from Pajala we came to the Muoniokoski rapids, below which is a miserable hamlet called Muonionalusta, with a chapel, where services are held only a few stated Sundays during the year. Here my boatmen left the river, and after a walk of three or four miles through very swampy soil, covered with fir and pine, we found ourselves suddenly at a fine farm. Above the door of the house were written the words

" KUNGL : POST-STATION."

This was Muoniovaara. I was received by Herr Forsstrom, who was a Swede, and by his wife in a most kindly manner. Two pleasant, modest, bashful young ladies, who bore the characteristic Swedish names of Hilda and Hedda, and three sons, Gustaf, John, and Oskar, composed the family of that comfortable northern home.

The farm overlooked the Mnonio, which here widened into a lake, the meadows extending to the water's edge. Near the house was a vegetable garden, in which pease were about two inches above the ground, and carrots, potatoes, and barley were well forward ; but grazing and butter-making were the chief industry, as the grain crops in this region were uncertain, and the farmers accordingly-planted hardly enough for their own wants, preferring to buy their flour.

On the other side, in Finland, is Muonioniska, which has a church, and is the residence of a clergyman. There, as in Sweden and Norway, the people are Lutheran ; for, since the acquisition of that province by Russia, the efforts of that government have failed to turn the Finlanders from their Protestant faith to that of the Greek Church.

Herr F was postmaster : the mail brought the letters and newspapers semi- monthly. The only society they had were the clergyman and the lansman from Maonioniska, for the farmers have not the education that can enliven their solitude; they depend upon themselves and the journals for recreation.

The farm was a very good one, and the milch cows, fifteen in number, were the finest .I have seen in the north of Sweden; the dairy had to be looked after, and a large herd of reindeer were pasturing on the mountains. The young ladies were excellent weavers, and made the garments for the family. Herr F had, in addition, a store, just like one of those little country stores in which the people can find the things they want; it was largely patronized in winter by the Laplanders-who, however, are not to be seen along the route during the summer.

The house accommodated travellers, and, considering the distance the articles had to be brought, the charges were exceedingly moderate. The clergyman was invited to partake of the good cheer, and it was pleasant to see the host and good pastor smoke enormous pipes while enjoying their toddy. At this place, far from the sea, within a few miles of 68° N., every luxury had to be transported in winter from the Gulf of Bothnia.

The Muonio, from Muoniovaara northward, takes a more westerly direction ; the population becomes more scarce, long stretches being passed without seeing a single house. The ascent of the river is laborious, the stream often being but a succession of rapids, the most formidable being the Kelokortje, up which the boat had to be hauled. A hard pull of fourteen hours brought us to the Palojoki (joki, in Finnish, river), the boatmen were nearly exhausted, for we had passed twenty rapids, and the day had been very warm, the mercury rising from 77° to 82°, and at 6 P.M. still marking 70° in the sun ; at 7 p.m., 68°; and at 9.30 p.m., 64°. At the mouth of the river is the hamlet of Palojoensa, or Palojoki, composed of eight or ten scattered farms, looking bare enough : the in-habitants ,seemed to be a cross between the Finns and the Lapps. The grass the people could gather was hardly enough for their cattle, which had to be fed on both lichen and hay; barley and potatoes still grew, although the latitude was above 68° north; but these were uncertain crops, frosts often occur-ring in August. The inhabitants possessed herds of reindeer; but these were now pastured on the mountains. A room in one of the farms was used as a school-house, a teacher coining to take up his residence in the hamlet during his term of service. The station was one of the best of the farms.

From Palojoensa there were two ways of going north one by continuing the ascent of the Muonio, famous for the beautiful scenery of its upper part, to Lake Kilpisjarvi ; the other, by stopping at Karesuando, about four Swedish miles higher up, and thence overland to the Lapp village of Kautokeino. I had determined to take the latter, as being more direct, when I heard from one of the villagers, who had been fishing in the lakes in the interior, of a much better one, almost all the way by water, and by ascending the Palojoki. All agreed that I should take this last.

The Palojoki, one of the affluents of the Muonio, is a small river running nearly north, having in its course a great number of rapids. The boats used for its navigation are smaller than those on the Muonio, but built on the- same principle, with four planks strongly ribbed, and a heavy keel, to resist the thumping which they receive. Two boatmen are required, and two passengers only can conveniently be taken. This route had a great advantage, having never before been taken by any Swede or Norwegian, as I was subsequently informed by Herr F on my return to Muoniovaara the following winter, 1872-1873. My boatmen rejoiced in the names of John Mathias Bass and Erik Gustaf Laïgula, or some name of that sort.

The river was low on account of the long drought. As I carne on the banks, and saw the boulders in the stream and the small amount of water, I thought we should never be able to ascend, notwithstanding the great skill of the Muonio boatmen. Our boat, however, was equal to the occasion, and bounded from rock to rock like a cork or an India-rubber ball, and we succeeded in getting over the first rapid, and for awhile into deep water. We had ascended a short distance when we heard a bell ringing in the wood, and in an instant saw twelve rein-deer running towards the river and looking at us. They had recognized the voice of their master, and seemed glad to see him—some of them even entering the water to get to him. These were the first reindeer I had met. Their owner told me that they were worth twenty-seven kronor per head.

The shores were lined with forests of firs, mingled with birch. The sound of the rushing water in the rapids was very pleasant to hear. Even though so far north, the cuckoo was heard; flocks of ducks flew away at our approach, and sometimes a goose would be startled from her young ones. Now and then we passed a queer bird-house, made fast to a tree, varying in size from eighteen to twenty-four inches in length, and from eight to twelve inches in diameter; some were dug out of a tree, with the top and bottom covered with bark, and others were made entirely of the latter. These were intended to entice a species of water-birds which lay their eggs in the hollows of trees ; and there was a hole in the centre large enough for a man to put in his hand and remove the eggs. Some of these birds lay a score of eggs or more, which are taken by the owner of the nests. These bird-houses were the only sign of human neighborhood we could see.

The river a little farther up widens, and its banks are skirted with meadows, from which a great deal of hay is obtain-ed. The forests were carpeted with long reindeer-moss of a greenish-white color, the finest I saw during my travels in Scandinavia.

This 5th of July was the warmest day I had met here, the temperature at seven o'clock A.M. being 67° in the shade and 109° in the sun; at nine, 72° in the shade ; between noon and one o'clock, 82°, and 118° in the sun. A thundershower followed, without cooling the atmosphere : at 3.30, 82°; at 4.30, 79°; at 6, 78° in the shade, and 98° in the sun.

At one of the rapids, where the men had to pull the boat with a cord, I ascended the steep, sandy bank, about eighty or one hundred feet high, in order to observe the country. It was an extensive, slightly rolling region, entirely covered with lichens, which could furnish an immense amount of food for reindeer; small knotty birch-trees were scattered far apart, and there was a solitary fir-tree. A patch of snow was in sight, and the country looked arid and de mosquitoes; where they came from I could not tell, for there were no swamps in the vicinity.

A short distance farther on the men dropped their poles, and stopped on the left bank of the stream, at the foot of a path. " We are going to spend the night at a farm not far from here," said Mathias, "for we are tired." I did not won-der at it, for we had gone up more than forty rapids, had rowed about four and a half Swedish miles, and had been fourteen hours on the way. We hauled our boat on shore, leaving everything in it. I felt somewhat anxious about the satchel containing my money; but my boatmen were apparently not windows. A few nets were drying, and two men were busily engaged in mending them. The buildings were at a considerable distance apart, as a precaution against fire.

Everything was of the most primitive kind—the plates, dishes, and spoons being of wood; pails or scoops were used as drinking-vessels; forks were unknown, or if they had any, they were not used. The only crockery I saw were coffeecups. The accommodations for strangers were far from' inviting; I preferred a bench to the bed, and my guide and beats men took possession of the dirty floor.

The season was backward on account of the continued dry weather, and I wondered how the crops could be ready to-wards the end of August, after which month the frost is sure to appear. This was the last barley I was to see, for we were now above 68° 35' N., and this grain does not ripen farther north inland. Birch-trees are numerous, and they have plenty of wood to keep their dwellings warm.

The nearest doctor is about two hundred miles away; the church is at Palojoensa, but the people have always at home some religious books, either the Bible, a psalm and hymnbook, or postilla (collection of sermons). Money is very scarce, and in seasons when the crops fail the inhabitants suffer from want of food ; they scrape birch-bark and mix it with flour, or cook reindeer-moss with milk, and, with the addition of flour, make a palatable dish.

This settlement possessed twenty-two cows. One of the cow-houses was a low, long, narrow building, with a roof covered with over a foot of earth, upon which the grass (which is harvested) was now green ; the stalls were separated by a wooden partition, and in the rear was a gutter to receive the drainage, for manure here was as precious as gold, the soil being poor; the floor was made of planks; at one end was the usual thick stone structure, supporting a huge iron pot, used to cook the coarse grass, or lichen, for the cattle.

The people were healthy and strong; there were several old people, among whom was a hale old man who had attained the age of ninety years. Men, women, and young girls smoked ; but this custom is also prevalent in many parts of Sweden and Norway.

After passing several rapids, and a two hours' pull from Leppajarvi, we emerged into Lake Palojarvi from which the Palojoki River flows, having ascended the stream for a distance of about five and a half Swedish miles. Palojarvi is one of the lakes on the slope of the plateau forming the southern water-shed, and is, I think 1100 feet above the sea; a range of sandy hills, covered with shrubs, flanks the western shores; looking towards the east and north-east, I could see a high hill, called Isticconara, which was whitened by large patches of snow. There is something impressive in the solitude and stillness of that northern land, in those silent and lonely lakes, in the murmur of the swift rivers meandering amidst the rocks barring their course, in the wonderfully clear atmosphere, in the pale-blue sky, and in the bracing air. Often was I seized with an indescribable feeling of loneliness, and, at the same time, a desire to wander farther away.

As we crossed the lake I could see only one farm, where a number of long nets were drying. The solitary homes in the far North are generally situated by lakes, which in this latitude swarm with fish, on which and sour milk, during the summer months, the inhabitants principally subsist. A great deal of fish is salted or dried for winter use.

A pull of about half an hour brought us to the northern shore, to a narrow and crooked river—the Rastajoki ; ascending it about a mile in a northern direction, we landed.

After two hours' walking through a bleak country, at times marshy, covered chiefly with reindeer-moss and scattered dwarf birches, we came to the shores of a small lake, called Givijarvi, about five miles from Palojarvi, forming the boundary between Russian Finland and Norway. On the way I had seen, at the foot of a rocky hill, large numbers of round stones, ranging from twice the-size of an orange to thrice the size of a man's head ; they seemed to have been gathered by human hands in the days of old. Since leaving Leppajarvi I had seen only one coniferous tree; we had now reached the region where these did not grow, but birches were plentiful, though small.

On an island a large patch of snow, which the warm summer sun had not succeeded in melting, reached to the water's edge. Smoke curling above two sharp, cone-like huts, showed that it was inhabited. We found a leaky old boat, with which to reach the other side ; it was as dry as a piece of cork, rickety and disjointed ; happily there was a wooden bucket near, which would serve for bailing. We made a sail with leafy birch branches, and it was all we could do to bail the water out; I tried to steer with a stick, and the men also paddled with sticks; it took us an hour to make a distance of about three English miles. When we landed, two men, who were watching our approach, came to invite us into the huts we had seen from the other side. These were about twelve feet high, some eight or nine feet in diameter, and built with sods of grass, supported inside by a frame formed of branches of trees. The interior and surroundings were filthy; entrails and heads of fish had been cast at random around the placé, and two barrels were partly filled with those that had been salted, and their rotten smell was anything but pleasant. The nets which they had been mending were lying on the ground, and were to be set in the evening.

A fire was burning in the centre of the hut, the smoke escaping by an aperture above ; large quantities of fish had become mixed with the earth; the beds were made of dirty grass, and the blankets were of sheep-skins, the original white of which had become black with filth. I did not dare to enter. A coffee-kettle hung over the fire, and an old cup was the solitary drinking utensil ; their food consisted entirely of fish.

These two occupants of the island were dirty; their shaggy hair, which hung down their necks, protected them from the mosquitoes, but to all appearance it contained something a great deal worse. They were of medium size, with high cheek-bones, and the type of the face was that of a mixture of the Finnish and Lapp blood; they were dressed in pantaloons, home-spun woollen shirts, and queer-shaped pointed boots; but they were kind, and insisted on my taking a cup of coffee.

From Givijarvi the overland route northward was through a very dreary country leading to Aitijarvi. The walking at times was tiresome, enlivened only by an occasional ptarmigan; lakelets or ponds were seen in every direction.

The mosquitoes had again increased in number, and, al-though a good breeze was blowing, swarms of then followed and annoyed us terribly. The plateau seems to be the dividing-line for the outlets of the lakes towards the south and north; the birch-trees had become dwarfed, and the bend of their branches showed the force and direction of the winter winds.

Very lonely seemed the station of refuge at Aitijarvi, as we got a glimpse of the buildings from the brow. of the hill; in a little less than one hour and a half from the last lake we reached the place.

The farm was intended as a place of refuge, far away from any other human habitation, in one of the bleakest and coldest districts of Northern Europe, the thermometer reaching even 45° below zero; and welcome must be its shelter during the winter, when approaching storms threaten the weary traveller. The house was comfortable and clean ; there were two rooms—one for the family, and the other for travellers ; the luxuries of soft bedding and fine linen are not to be looked for in that part of the world. Two cows and a few sheep were all the stock on the premises, the reindeer being in the pasturing-ground.

The station is near the small lake of Aitijarvi, and by the banks of the river Sitcajoki, close to the point where their waters mingle; before falling into the lake the stream forms a gentle rapid, below which is a small island covered with grass, the soil having been well manured. The husband and wife were the only people at home, and they gave us a hearty welcome. Adam Triumf was a nice, queer old man, of medium size, with long black hair, tinged with gray, falling over his shoulders. His wife, Kristin a, was quite a sight in her way, with her head adorned with a close-fitting, smooth cap ; her long, glossy black hair hung over her shoulders, and, although the wrinkles in her face showed she was aged, she had hardly any gray hair; to complete the picture, she had on a pair of her husband's boots, and both were dressed in homespun garments. They had lived here for twenty-six years, and twelve children had been born to them : one of the sons dwelt with them, but was absent at the time of my visit.

The Norwegian Government pay the old people a stated sum yearly for keeping the place ; in winter they are less lonely, as some of their children visit them, and the Lapps come and go. Old Adam Triumf and Kristina had a great deal to do during the short summer, when the long days were chiefly occupied in the fisheries. Large quantities of fish were salted down for winter use; but, besides the fishing, they had to cut and stack the hay, procure wood, and collect supplies of rein-deer moss, which latter article is gathered into great heaps, to be taken away in winter by reindeer sledges to furnish winter food for the cattle. Collecting the moss is a very important matter, for that must be done while the ground is free from snow. The dairy likewise had to be looked after, for butter and cheese are among the necessary supplies. Soon after our arrival the wife brought us a large wooden bowl of delicious milk, besides butter and cheese, and a loaf of coarse black bread, just baked, kindly remarking, " You must be hungry."

I asked for a boat ; but Adam said that he must first go after the nets and get the fish, which was no sooner said than done. Both the old people left us in entire possession of the house, nothing being locked ; they were not in the least afraid that we would help ourselves to the unburned coffee, or the sugar, or the provisions they had brought from the sea-coast. In the course of two hours they came back with a large quantity of fine trout—some of which were from twenty to twenty-two inches long, and would have gladdened the heart of any angler. Kristina immediately cooked a few of these, and, putting then into a wooden dish, said to me, " Stranger, eat; eat as much as you can; you have a long journey before you." She then refilled the wooden bowl with milk, and made some coffee; when I took leave I put two kronor into her hand.

The weather was getting warmer every day : at nine o'clock the thermometer stood in the sun at 100° ; the temperature of the water was 60°, showing that the snow had melted. At eleven, when we stopped to rest, it was 72° in the shade, in the sun 105°; and that of the water, 62°. At one o'clock we again rested, as the men were fairly exhausted : although we were in latitude 67° 30', the thermometer marked 74° in the shade, and 109° in the sun at noon. This was the second hottest day I had experienced.

On the 5th of July, at one o'clock in the morning, I took leave of Aitijarvi. Adam Triumf saw us off, and wished us a happy journey; he shook hands with me, and said, with hospitable earnestness, " Welcome back !"

Givijarvi and Aitijarvi are on the southern part of the slope we had crossed after leaving Palojarvi, and now the water-shed was northward towards the Arctic Sea; and we followed down the streams, over many dangerous rapids, as far as Kautokeino, about four Norwegian miles.

Looking southward, the moon was visible far away ; in the opposite direction was the sun. One was pale, and shed no light, the other was shining brightly. The weather was superb, and the sky cloudless ; the thermometer marked 57°, and a heavy dew was on the ground.

At the start the river was narrow, not very deep, the average width not exceeding fifty feet; birch woods lined both banks. I had not before heard so many birds singing together after midnight, enjoying the spring, since I left Stockholm. I could not but wonder at the little sleep they had in such continuous sunshine; some days they appeared to rest from eleven to one or two o'clock, while at other times they seemed always active; the swallows, which had reached this extreme northern latitude at this season, would remain in their nests for a couple of hours or so. The trees were short in proportion to their thickness; their leaves were just opened, and the white trunks and drooping branches contrasted beautifully with the fresh green leaves. Vegetation was more backward than on the southern slope, and several patches of snow were seen ; one drift was several hundred yards in length, and from it the grass came to the water's edge. The river was as clear as crystal, and, where the water was still, our boat seemed to glide on a bed of greenish glass. As we were carried northward, rapid after rapid was passed, the boat quivering as it shot over the waves. The boatmen knew every bend of the river, all the dangerous boulders and hidden rocks over which the water coursed; they could judge by the appearance of the foaming water whether we could go over safely. Often we passed within an inch or two of a boulder which threatened to dash us to pieces, when, by a skilful manoeuvre of the men with their long poles, and just in the nick of time, we escaped, and floated along till another rapid was reached. A mistake or error of judgment would have been fatal. The dexterity of my boatmen was extraordinary. The excitement occasioned by the descent was far greater than that of the ascent of the Muonio.

After a descent of five hours we came to a farm, the first seen on the way ; the dwelling was very dirty, though the fariner was well-to-do, and possessed twelve cows and some two hundred reindeer; there were several children, and the family seemed to be of Lapp extraction. I saw on the table a book, which I found to be the New Testament. Around the place were hay-stacks, upon which the hay was placed ten or twelve feet above the ground, to prevent it from being covered with snow, and supported by a number of long poles, some going through the stack, to keep it from being blown away by the wind.

Lower down, after a series of rapids, the stream widened into a small lake, called Suddnrmelopaljarvi, and, after passing through a mild rapid, we entered the Sopatusjarvi, from which the river throws itself into the Alten, above Kautokeino, which place I reached after a journey of nine hours.

The task was a much easier and more interesting one than to have ascended the river as far as Karesnando, and then to have made a land journey of about sixty miles, partly over marshes, bogs, and other obstructions. I had walked about three hours only during the whole journey-a distance of about eighty-four miles from Palojoensa.

Kautokeino is near 69° lat.; like all the villages of the Laplanders it is in summer almost deserted ; few people are to be seen, as they are in the mountains or fishing, and the reindeer and cattle are in the pastures.

This hamlet had ten or twelve homesteads; the dwellings were built of logs, and those for the cattle either of turf or stones. The live-stock of the place consisted of about fifty cows, one hundred and fifty sheep, four or five oxen, and some two hundred and fifty reindeer, more than half of which had been broken to harness ; there were no horses.

It has a parish church', with a resident clergyman during the winter; the district judge holds court twice a year, remaining a week each time; a school in winter is attended by about seventy children.

A Norwegian mile distant is the hamlet called Autzi, with about the same population ; beyond are a number of scattered Lapp farms, on the banks of the Allen ; the whole district possessing nearly two hundred cows.

The region is now almost denuded of trees, as this is an old settlement, and the people have to go a considerable distance to obtain firewood ; large pines and firs were once abundant, as the remains of trunks and roots found in marshes testify, but they have now entirely disappeared.

The village-store was used as an inn, but the merchant had gone on his summer vacation, as there was nothing doing at this season, and his house-keeper, with a servant-maid, had charge of the establishment.

There is a resident lensmand, whose duties are those of a sheriff; he has to see that the laws are executed, and, in such a small place as this, he has prisoners in his custody. A room in his house, with iron bars to the window, is the prison, but it is seldom occupied ; it would not take long in America, or in most countries of Europe, for a prisoner to break through such weak barriers and escape ; but here, as a rule, people are awed by the majesty of the law. With two Lapps under him, acting as policemen, he has charge of the whole district. Both he and his wife received me with great kindness, and it was an agreeable surprise to find that the husband could speak a little English.

Near his house was the garden, where radishes and turnips were growing, and these attain a good size. Potatoes here are very small, their vines growing so rapidly that the tubers have but little chance to develop, and it is not every year, therefore, that he can enjoy the luxury of this esculent; the same may be said of pease, which, however, had yielded well the previous year. Barley is sometimes grown, but has to be cut before it is entirely ripe; it is so very uncertain that the people rarely plant it ; the hay crop is often very abundant.

The summer is very short; the Alten River freezes some-times in the last days of September, and the ice breaks up only at the end of May or the beginning of June.

I concluded to send Josefsson back, as I foresaw the difficulties he must encounter on his return, if I took him farther away from his home.

On the 7th of July the weather was sultry and oppressive, and a violent storm burst over us; the claps of thunder were very loud and the lightning vivid, and a heavy rain poured down for four hours. This was the third shower I had en-countered since I landed in Scandinavia; all were within the arctic circle, and two had been accompanied by thunder. After the rain the wind changed, and the mercury fell from 78° to 47'—a difference of 31° in a few hours.

Two guides—brothers-were provided for me by the lensmand, regular postmen between the hamlet and Bosikop; their names were Mathias Johannesen, and Johannes Johannesen Haetta; the distance between the two places is about eighteen or nineteen Norwegian miles.

The banks of the Alten near Kautokeino are of fine white sand, sometimes of clay, the district having evidently been once the bed of a lake. The ground, in many places, is covered with a spongy wet moss. The river runs nearly due north, passing through a hilly and mountainous country, its course impeded by rapids, which make its navigation farther down the stream impracticable ; so that the journey to Bosikop on the Alten fjord has to be made by water and by land.

The stream became wild as we approached the first rapid; our voices were almost drowned at times by the noise of the dashing waters. As we were swiftly borne along, I heard the booming sound of a water-fall. I confess I felt somewhat anxious, for I had not as yet been able to judge of the skill of my boatmen, and thought we had come to a dangerous place; in the mean time, as a not very cheering reminder, they said that three men had been drowned here in the year 1858. Suddenly we shot into a sort of eddy at a bend of the river, and made for the shore, and it seemed to me none too soon. Indeed, at no great distance the river plunged, with one leap, over a ledge of rocks, twenty to twenty-five feet : the rushing water was confined on both sides by walls of solid rock. The fall was called Njejdagorze. We hauled the boat overland to below the falls. After passing another rapid, and a descent of nearly five hours, the river became lake-like in appearance, called Lad nejarvi. On its banks there was a shelter station for the post-men and travellers going to and from Kautokeino and Alten.

Having been fifteen hours on the way, we stopped at a small log-house built by the Norwegian Government. It was about eighteen feet long and twelve feet wide, banked with turf all round at its base to prevent the wind from penetrating ; the roof was covered with earth and sod. In a corner was an open fireplace, and there were two beds made of boards. Some clothes were hanging on a pole inside, and food had been left by some persons for their return journey : no one would dare to help himself. The little place was surrounded by birch-trees, which supplied the travellers with fuel, and a water-fall was close at hand. We found some wood ready for use.

For the first time since I had left Stockholm I felt perfectly exhausted from want of sleep. During the journey down the river I kept awake in order to see the country, and while eating fell asleep with food in my hand. I had slept only two hours at one time and five hours at another from 9 A.M. on Wednesday to 4 P.M. on Saturday. We made a thick smoke to drive the mosquitoes out, shut the door, and fell into a deep slumber of four hours' duration.

We collected firewood to replace that which we had burned, as is customary, so that the weary traveller may find fuel ready on his arrival; when we got ready to leave, we poured water on the fire to extinguish it, and then locked the door with a wooden pin.

As this was the end of the water journey, we climbed the steep, birch-clad banks, and reached gradually an undulating plateau, barren and desolate, with the- ever -present massive boulders scattered over the surface. Lichens were abundant, and, though we were in the second week of July, the dwarf birches and willows were not yet in leaf at this altitude.

The sky was clear, and the mercury had fallen to 45°; the ponds were still covered with ice, and patches of snow were seen in the distance. The walking was good, the ground hard, and we could easily have ridden, on horseback. Coming to a tract of snow, which we had to cross, the faces of my Lapps brightened ; they threw themselves fiat and rolled in it, washed their hands and faces, and eating it, thus showing their joy and love of winter.

We were nearly two thousand feet above the level of the sea, and were still slowly ascending. Four hours after leaving the station of refuge we came to the foot of a high rocky hill, standing by itself, and towering above the plateau. It was called Lodigen, or Nupp Vara, 2650 feet above the sea. From its summit, where I waited for the midnight sun, the view was weird and solemn in its dreariness. In sight were lakes, frozen and unfrozen, while in the distance appeared the peaks of snowy mountain ranges; the rocky surface was covered with boulders, and gray with reindeer-moss. The brightness of the sun was gradually fading, and his last mellow rays rested upon the mountain-tops, turning the patches of snow into rose-tint, and casting their reflection upon the sky above. There was in the scene an impressive air of repose.

Even at this height, with the mercury at 44°, the mosquitoes were terrible pests; it was impossible to imagine whence they came, for their swarms certainly had not been produced in the frozen lake near the foot of the hill. They were so numerous, and attacked so fiercely, that I could hardly make my observations; I broke an aneroid barometer and two thermometers, which dropped from my hands while I was trying to defend myself from these minute persecutors.

The effect of the atmosphere upon me beyond a certain height, which varies according to the latitude, was remarkable. I felt as light as a cork, and as full of life and spirit as if I had been exhilarated with champagne; the rarefied air acted upon me like a stimulant, and my men looked at me with astonishment, acknowledging that I could beat them in walking. I have had the same experience on the mountains of Southern Norway; there were days when it seemed as if I could not get tired. In no other country have I been able to undertake such long marches as in the mountains of Scandinavia.

In such barren solitudes the sight of man is strangely welcome, and we met with singular pleasure the two postmen who carried the. mail to Kautokeino. Continuing our way, and passing over a wet dark soil, sinking at times almost knee-deep in the mire, we came into a verdant valley—a wonderful contrast to the dreary country we had left—where rills of clear water poured from the sides of the hills, where the grass was green, and violets, buttercups, and dandelions were interspersed with the lovely forget-me-not. The birch-trees were quite large; I measured two fir-trees by the side of the path, one of which was seven and the other a little more than nine feet in circumference near the ground ; but they were not nearly as tall as those growing farther south. .

I could hardly believe I was so far north, the birds were so, numerous. Here one meets the Sylvia hortensia (garden warbler), Fringilla coelebs (bullfinch), and others of the finch family ; Turdus pilaris (mountain thrush), several species of Parus (titmouse), Alauda arvensis (common skylark), Lusciola suecica (blue-throated warbler), Motacilla flava (gold-hammer) ; some varieties of fly-catchers (Muscicapa), the cuckoo, sparrow, and swallow ; Plectrophanes nivalis (snow-bunting), Garrulus infaustus (red jay), the woodpecker ; Pica caudata (magpie), Corvus corax (raven), and Corvus cornix (crow), Ampelis garrulus (waxwing), and Loxia curvirostra (cross-bill). The Cinclus aquaticus (dipper, or water-ouzel) is a high northern singer, which is found principally by the mountain streams, near the snow boundary, and only goes down into the valleys to breed.

Twelve hours after leaving Ladnejärvi we found ourselves at Wind, on the banks of the Alten, a few miles from the sea, and were now but a short distance from latitude 70

After refreshing ourselves at a farm we took a boat, and, after a pull of two hours, landed, and ascending a high hill, where we found a carriage road, we walked towards Bosekop, at the head of the Alten fjord.

Suddenly I discovered that I had forgotten my satchel, which had been left at one of the stopping-places. By panto-mime I tried to make my Lapps comprehend the nature of my mishap; they looked at me in amazement. I was quite anxious, for I had not a single copper with me ; my letters of credit and introductions to Hammerfest werealso in the missing bag. I had little doubt that the people were honest, but I felt that they were liable to temptation, and that. even here the people might sometimes steal.

If, in spite of all my endeavors, my guides could not be made to understand what I meant, there was no alternative but to go back. My anxiety had been so great that I had not noticed that while making all these pantomimic gesticulations T had been walking past a farm-house, from which a gentleman and three ladies a mother and her two daughters—carne towards me. . One addressed me in French, and the others in English and German, asking politely if they could do anything for me. I looked at them in amazement, astonished to hear the English tongue so well spoken in that far northern region. I explained what had happened.

"My father will send a man on horseback to fetch your satchel, for your men say they are so very tired," said one of the young ladies in very good English. " You will get the bag; you must not be afraid; it will be all right."

I was invited to enter the house, but tried to excuse myself, as I was covered with mud. "Never mind; come in," was the instant reply ; and I accepted the hospitality so cordially offered.

The dwelling reminded me of that of a well-to-do farmer in the United States. In the parlor were books and a piano ; the furniture was plain and comfortable, including a sofa, an article almost always found in the homes of the more refined class in the country; at some of the windows hung coquettish but simple little curtains, while roses and other flowers were blooming and basking in the sunshine. Everything indicated culture and refinement, and I felt myself even more unpresentable than at first. I had not recovered from my astonishment, having expected to meet only rude people in these parts, and here I was brought face to face with education and , good-manners, and three foreign languages had been spoken in my hearing.

My host was a member of the Storthing (the Norwegian Congress) for Vestfinnmarken, and he and all his family gave me a most hearty welcome. An invitation to dinner was urged so pressingly that it could not be declined.

Bosekop is composed of scattered farms, with a church, a school, several stores, and a comfortable inn, owned by an elderly widow and her daughter; it is the seat of a fair, and in winter is a place of great resort for the Laplanders; court is also held here.

There is a small society of educated people, comprising the families of the judge, storthingsmand, clergyman, and other§. My arrival was on Sunday afternoon, which is used by the Norwegian as a time of recreation and rest. After dinner two young ladies called, who invited me to join a social gathering of the young people. We all started together, and went to the inn where my luggage had gone. When I came down-stairs, dressed in my best (that is not saying much), I found in the parlor a dozen blooming girls and a few gentlemen waiting for m to whom I was introduced. My guides wished to go back and wanted their pay ; a cloud came over my face, and I ha to explain that they must wait. A gentleman offered to advance the required amount ; but the men had scarcely been paid when the good farmer's wife made her appearance. She had walked all the way to restore the lost bag, not caring to intrust it to any one else, for she believed that it contained a large sum ; she refused to accept a reward when I offered it, saying that she did not want to be paid for being honest, but I at last prevailed upon her to take a present.

All the company could speak English, and some French and German besides. In a short time the friendly manners of all made me forget that I was a stranger.

The day after my arrival several ladies called upon me, and courteously invited me to their houses, saying that they wished me to have a pleasant time, and to preserve a kindly recollection of my visit to Bosekop.

I was fortunate in meeting here with Professor Theodore Kjerulf, of Christiania, one of the most distinguished savants of Scandinavia, whose works on the geology of Norway will insure for him an enduring fame, and who was then engaged in examining the formation of the country. He was some-what astonished at the paucity of my luggage, which consisted, as he said, chiefly of writing-paper and maps. My shoes also attracted his attention; on account of their thin soles ; for forced marches, where I have to walk fast, and where the ground is not too stony and wet, I always prefer such.

After a pleasant conversation we went into a little garden, in which there was a pavilion ornamented with leafy branches of the birch, and containing a table covered with refreshments. Eggnog, lemonade, and cakes were handed round, and a game of tag was started, while the elders came out to look at the fun. We played till we were tired, and then adjourned to the large room of the hotel to enjoy the sport of blind-man's-buff.

I succeeded in persuading the learned professor to join in the amusement. The game is played in a curious way : all who take part in it are seated on chairs in a circle; the blindfolded person, placed in the centre, goes around trying to seat him-self on some one's knees. When seated, his hands must be folded, that he may not touch anything with them; 411 disguise their voices, and he guesses the naine of the person on whose knees he is sitting ; if he does not give the right name, he must start again around the circle; and so the play goes on.. Here, as in other countries, the marriageable young people enjoy this game greatly. There is much fun in a game of tag when the reclaiming of the forfeits takes place, and many ways to tease a suspected lover or sweetheart, in telling what one must do to redeem forfeits, and in showing preference for one without letting others notice it. I liked the game amazingly. At 11 P.M., the sun shining brightly, they bade me good-night, and went to their homes, leaving me full of admiration at their simplicity, innocence, and gentle manners.

I was made welcome in every family I visited, and gave an entertainment to the young ladies, who had invited me to theirs, in the parlor of the hotel. Suddenly there was a pause, and all the guests looked at each other and whispered ; some of the ladies, headed by Professor Kjerulf, came towards me, and asked, in the name of the company, if I would be kind enough to tell them something about my travels in Africa and the gorillas. I had never uttered a word about my explorations, and felt sorry to have been recognized: this is one of the disadvantages of bearing an unusual name. It was impossible to refuse ; and there, in 70° of north latitude, in the quiet parlor of the hotel at Bosekop, I delivered a lecture on the equatorial regions of Africa, and on the gorilla, before as pleasant an assemblage of people as one would wish to meet; and, as the newspaper wishing to compliment a lecturer with a small audience would say, the address was delivered before a select and very distinguished assembly.

Not very far from Bosekop, on the Kaa fjord, is a copper mine, the most northern mine in the world which has been successfully worked, producing metal of the best quality ; about five hundred persons were employed on the works. Within the last five years many of the miners had emigrated to America, wishing to try their fortunes in the New World, led by two of their fellow-workmen, who had come back with glowing accounts of the good pay. The mine belonged to an English company, and the manager, an Englishman, had been here forty-three years, which spoke well for the climate. The miners were Finlanders, receiving an average pay of forty to fifty cents a day; many were married, and had large families. The manager told me that he had promised to stand god-father to the twentieth child of a woman from Pajala; but she stopped at number nineteen, and died at the age of seventy.

Even here Englishmen had come to fish. The Duke of Roxburgh, who holds the Alten River to himself, leaves his estates every year to enjoy the, pleasure of sleeping in a log-house, catching salmon, and being eaten up by mosquitoes. The people spoke of him with respect and love, and praised his kind heart and genial manners ; they said the poor were never sent empty-handed from his house, and many a needy family had been the recipient of his bounty; I know of no other Englishman more esteemed in Norway. He has been fishing here for twenty years, and is known in many parts of the country. In an evil hour the good duke was robbed by the son of his house-keeper, to the great sorrow of the people of the region, who, it seems, are not wholly exempt from the evil of thievery; the amount taken was, I believe, about two thousand dollars, of which nearly all was recovered ; the thief had never before seen so much money, and did not know what to do with it, and the, sight of so many bank-bills scared him.

There is no part of our globe where vegetation is so thriving at so high a latitude as on the Alten fjord. At the Kaa fjord an arm of the Alten, and near Bosekop, rhubarb, barley, oats, rye, turnips, and potatoes grow well; carrots attain a length of from five to seven inches ; garden strawberries ripen at the end of July or the beginning of August, if the season is a warm one ; currants thrive well, and the blackberries mature in one year out of three or four; pease bear every year; I found these last from ten to fifteen inches high on the 10th of July; having been planted about four weeks, and ready to blossom. The grass is rich, and four gallons of milk yield, on an average, a pound of butter; oats or barley are harvested in nine or ten weeks after they are planted.

The hottest season is from the beginning of July to the middle of August, the thermometer sometimes rising to 85° The weather at Bosekop had become cooler, the warmest temperature during my stay being 63° in the shade, the coolest 55°.

The usual way of going farther north is by taking the weekly steamer from Bosekop to Hammerfest.

The scenery on the Alten. fjord is often superb ; there are numerous raised beaches and sea-markings on the solid rocks, high above the present water-line; two of the latter are very distinct at a place called Kvaen Klubben, being about twenty and fifty feet above the sea-level. Weird, indeed, is the sight at times, from the dark masses of rock which line the shores, and the general dreariness of the landscape.

The steamer stopped at a number of places; then, leaving the fjord, we passed between the islands, and, after a run of thirteen hours, reached Hammerfest, on the north-western extremity of Kvalb, an island near the main-land, in latitude 70° 40', said to be the most northern town in the world.

These Norwegian seaports are hidden by high mountains or hills, and generally come suddenly into view. I was surprised to see in so high a latitude such a thrifty commercial town, there being more than fifty vessels, chiefly schooners, lying at anchor. English, Russian, Norwegian, Swedish, and German flags were represented ; two steamers were ready to leave ; here was an English vessel unloading coal, and a Russian vessel from Archangel discharging flour in sacks ; others were taking cargoes of salted or dry codfish, cod-liver oil, etc.

Boats, lighters, and little fishing craft lay at the wooden wharves, near or upon which the warehouses were built; the port is sheltered, and shipping rides in safety ; the town has a population of about 2500 inhabitants. Wandering through the streets or along the wharves one sees Russian captains, with their long beards; fishermen and sailors; Finlanders and Norwegians dressed in the most approved style of fashionable cities, for the crinoline, chignon, and "stove-pipe" hat had made their way here.

There are few towns in the world, if any, built upon a spot more barren, or surrounded by such a dreary, desolate landscape; not a tree is to be seen, but only bleak, dark rocks. No road leads out of the place, for there are no farms to be reached, and no wood to be brought from the surrounding country; the streets are narrow, the principal one following the bend of the bay; some of the dwelling-houses are large and commodious, and there are a considerable number of warehouses of different sorts and sizes.

The stranger is disagreeably affected by the fishy odor which pervades the town, for the inhabitants manufacture cod-liver oil, chiefly of the brown sort, and the smell and smoke are by no means pleasant; but, as one of the leading merchants observed, the smoke that brings money is never unpleasant. A considerable number of cows are kept, which are fed on fish, reindeer-moss, and hay.

The port is never closed by ice, for the Gulf-stream laves the bleak and desolate coast, which at certain seasons of the year swarms with fish ; if there were no fishing there would he no Hammerfest. Its geographical position is excellent; it is in direct telegraphic communication with Christiania, and thence with the rest of the world; it has three newspapers, and a small hotel, which furnishes comfortable rooms and a fair table. The schools are good, and attended by all children, as education is compulsory.

There is an American vice-consul resident at the port. Immediately after my visit to him the Stars and Stripes were hoisted over his residence, and I found, to my astonishment, that my name was known in this remote part of the world; for my "Equatorial Africa " had been translated into Norwegian, which was shown to me, and also the original in English. I was fortunately provided with letters of introduction to one of the leading merchants, Herr F , who introduced me to his friends, and I was made welcome in several homes, and not the least at the house of the American vice-consul.

The people live very comfortably. There is a great abundance of fish, one of the chief articles of diet; beef and mutton come from the fjord Tromso and the adjoining southern province; in winter, game and reindeer meat are abundant. Coffee, tea, spices, and other luxuries find their way here; and dinner-parties are given which would do credit to many a place less distant from the centres of civilization.

Wood is dear, as it has to be brought from the surrounding fjords ; but the people burn a great deal of coal, which comes from England, and which that year cost only five dollars a ton, a cheapness which surprised me.

All this northern part of the coast of Norway is accessible both in summer and winter. Steamers come to Hammerfest from different cities along the coast, and from Christiania, the voyage taking a fortnight, as the boats stop at many places, and the distance is over two thousand miles. There is also a semi-monthly line of Norwegian steamers from Hamburg; these boats, being the largest and most comfortable, are generally taken by tourists who wish to see the coast scenery or the midnight sun; this line brings miscellaneous goods, and in return takes Norwegian produce, and has been in operation for a number of years.

Towering hills, the highest of which rises 1335 feet above the level of the sea, form the background, and leave hardly any room for the town to grow ; their crests seem wonderfully sharp, and some of the boulders resting upon them appear to be so nicely balanced that a slight push would hurl them down the slopes.