After several days' travelling, on the evening of July 6th I ascended Wallavari, the first mountain of the alps on this side, which is indeed of a very considerable height. My companion was a Laplander, who served me both as servant and interpreter. In the latter capacity his assistance was highly requisite, few persons being to be met with on these alps who are ac
quainted with the Swedish language; nor was I willing to trust myself alone among these wild people, who were ignorant for what purpose I came. I had already suffered much in the Lapland part of Umoea for want of knowing the language. Nor was my companion wanted less to assist me in carrying what was necessary, for I had sufficient incumbrances of my own, without being the bearer of our provisions into the bargain.
On my first ascending these wild alps, I felt as if in a new world. Here were no forests to be seen, nothing but mountains upon mountains, larger and larger as I advanced, all covered with snow. No road, no tracks, nor any signs of inhabitants were visible. The verdure of summer seemed to shun this frozen region, retiring into the deep valleys between the mountains. I saw very few birds, except some Ptarmigans, which the Laplanders call Cheruna (Tetrao Lagopus), running with their young along the vales. The delightful season of
spring, whose cheering influence on man and all living nature I had so lately experienced in the beginning of my journey, seemed an alien here. The declining sun never disappeared sufficiently to allow any cooling shade, and by climbing to the more elevated parts of these lofty mountains, I could see it at midnight above the horizon. When I cast my eyes over the grass and herbage, there were few objects I had seen before, so that all nature was alike strange to me. I sat down to collect and describe these vegetable rarities, while the time passed unperceived away, and my interpreter was obliged to remind me that we had still five or six miles to go to the nearest Laplander, and that if we had a mind for any rein-deer meat, we ought to bestir ourselves quickly. We proceeded therefore up and down the snowy hills, sometimes passing along their precipitous sides, which was the most difficult travelling of all, and for many a long way we walked over heaps of stones. About the
evening of the following day we reached the nearest spot where any Laplander was at that time settled. The man we met with gave me a very good reception, and furnished me with a couple of rein-deer skins to sleep between. Immediately after my arrival, the herd, consisting of seven or eight hundred head of rein-deer, came home. These were milked, and some of the milk was boiled for my entertainment, but it proved rather too rich for my stomach. My host furnished me with his own spoon, which he carried in his tobacco-bag. On my expressing a wish, through my interpreter, to have the spoon washed, my Lapland friend immediately complied, taking a mouthful of water, and spitting it over the spoon.
After having satisfied my hunger, and refreshed myself with sleep, I steered my course directly South-west, towards the alps of Pithoea, proceeding from thence to the lofty icy mountains, or main ridge of the country. A walk of scarcely above
four or five miles further brought me to the western edge of this ridge, for I was desirous of examining that side of the mountains, to see how it agreed with the eastern part. I had no sooner arrived at the icy mountains than a storm overtook me, accompanied by a shower of thin pieces of ice, which soon formed an icy crust over my own clothes and those of my conductor. The severity of the cold obliged me to borrow the gloves and lappmudd (coat of rein-deer skin) from the man who accompanied me. But the weather proved more favourable as soon as we had crossed the summit of the ridge. From hence the verdant appearance of Norway, lying far beneath us, was very delightful. The whole country was perfectly green, and, notwithstanding its vast extent, looked like a garden in miniature, for the tallest trees appeared not above a span high. As we began to descend the alps, it seemed as if we should soon arrive at the lower country, but our calculations
were very inadequate to what we found its actual distance. At length, however, we reached the plains of which we had enjoyed so stupendous a prospect. Nothing could be more delightful to my feelings than this transition, from all the severity of winter, to the warmth and beauty of summer. The verdant herbage, the sweet-scented clover, the tall grass reaching up to my arms, the grateful flavour of the wild fruits, and the fine weather which welcomed me to the foot of the alps, seemed to refresh me both in mind and body.
Here I found myself close to the sea coast. I took up my abode at the house of a ship-master, with whom I made an agreement to be taken in a boat, the following day, along the coast. I much wished to approach the celebrated whirlpool, called the Maelstrom, but I could find nobody willing to venture near it.
We set sail the next morning according to appointment, but the wind proved con