We rose early this morning, and after walking a quarter of a mile arrived at the lofty icy mountain. This is indeed of a very great elevation, and covered with
perpetual snow, the surface of which was, for the most part, frozen quite hard. Sometimes we walked firmly over it, but it occasionally gave way, crumbling under our feet like sand. Every now and then we came to a river taking its course under the snowy crust, which in some parts had yielded to the force of the currents, and the sides of each chasm exhibited many snowy strata one above another. Here the mountain streams began to take their course westward, a sign of our having reached Norwegian Lapland. The delightful tracts of vegetation, which had hitherto been so agreeably interspersed among the alpine snows, were now no longer to be seen. No charming flowers were here scattered under our feet. The whole country was one dazzling snowy waste. The cold east wind quickened our steps, and obliged us to protect our hands that we might escape chilblains. I was glad to put on an additional coat. As we proceeded across the north side of this
mountain, we were often so violently driven along by the force of the wind, that we were taken off our feet, and rolled a considerable way down the hill. This once happened to me in so dangerous a place, that, after rolling to the distance of a gun-shot, I arrived near the brink of a precipice, and thus my part in the drama had very nearly come to an end. The rain, which fell in torrents on all sides, froze on our shoes and backs into a crust of ice. This journey would have been long and tiresome enough without any such additional inconvenience. At length, after having travelled betwixt three and four miles, the mountains appeared before us, bare of snow though only sterile rocks, and between them we caught a view of the western ocean. The only bird I had seen in this icy tract, was what the Laplanders call Pago (Charadrius Hiaticula). Its breast is black, throat white, feet orange.
Having thus traversed the alps, we arrived about noon upon their bold and pre
cipitous limits to the westward. The ample forests spread out beneath us, looked like fine green fields, the loftiest trees appearing no more than herbs of the humblest growth. About these mountains grew the same species of plants that I had observed on the other side of the alps. We now descended into a lower country. It seems, as I write this, that I am still walking down the mountain, so long and steep was the descent, but the alpine plants no longer made their appearance after we had reached the more humble hills. When we arrived at the plains below, how grateful was the transition from a chill and frozen mountain to a warm balmy valley! I sat down to regale myself with strawberries. Instead of ice and snow, I was surrounded with vegetation in all its prime. Such tall grass I had never before beheld in any country. Instead of the blustering wind so lately experienced, soft gales wafted around us the grateful scent of flowery clover and various other plants. In the earlier part
of my journey, I had for some time experienced a long-continued spring (whose steps I pursued as I ascended the Lapland hills); then unremitting winter and eternal snow surrounded me; summer at length was truly welcome. Oh how most lovely of all is summer!
Here grow, for the most part, the common plants of Upland, besides which I noticed Aconitum lycoctonum, and the little Mountain Catchfly with a white upright flower (Silene rupestris[61]); as also Coronopus maritimus punctatus (Plantago maritima β, Fl. Suec. 46), Mesomora (Cornus suecica), and the Cloudberry (Rubus Chamæmorus).
By this time I was heartily tired, and found the refreshment of some cow's milk, and meat, with a chair to sit upon, very acceptable. I could not but wonder to see my two Laplanders, who had accompanied me during the whole of this day's tedious
walk, one of them fifty years of age, the other upwards of seventy, running and frisking about in sport, though each of them had carried a burthen all the way; not indeed a very heavy one, but, considering the distance, by no means trifling. This set me seriously to consider the question put by Dr. Rosen, "why are the Laplanders so swift-footed?" To which I answer, that it arises not from any one cause, but from the cooperation of many.
1. The Laplanders, unlike us, wear no heels to their half boots. We see dancing-masters and rope-dancers, with little or no heels, perform feats of great agility, scarcely practicable with them. The same may be observed of running-footmen, and people of various countries who habitually walk fast; while, on the contrary, those who are accustomed to large and high heels, move in a heavy and deliberate manner. It is usual to shoe young horses heavily, that they may acquire a steadiness of pace; and I observe that the country boys where