We went on at a tremendous rate. These were indeed the fastest reindeer I had ever travelled with. It was a good thing that I had learned how to balance myself in those little Lapp sleighs. I did not mind any more their swinging to and fro. I rather liked the excitement. And it was exciting enough! We went so fast that things appeared and disappeared almost before I had time to look at them.
We sped with such rapidity that I fancied I was travelling on the Pennsylvania railroad, as I often had done on the Limited to Chicago on the way to see my Scandinavian friends and others. I was thinking of that splendid train with its luxurious cars—of the observation cars with their comfortable chairs, sofas, library; of the bath room, stenographer, and barber, and polite employees, and all the comforts travellers had. Suddenly I thought of its fine dining-room cars, and as I was hungry I imagined I was seated before one of its tables, with snowy-white linen, and enjoying a glorious meal,—oysters, capon, roast beef, vegetables of several kinds, and puddings and fruits; the ice cream I dismissed, for I did not feel like having any, it was so cold. Then I thought of its comfortable beds—when suddenly a tremendous bumping, which almost threw me out, reminded me that I was not on that luxurious train. I had struck a snag or boulder. This made it clear at once that I was dreaming and was not on the Chicago Limited, but that I was travelling in "The Land of the Long Night."
The air was so rarefied, the drive so exciting, that I shouted with all my might, "Go on, reindeer, go on. This is fine, I never had such a drive in my life."
After two hours, and a drive of nearly fifty miles, we alighted before a Lapp tent. The dogs, and there were many, announced our arrival by fierce barking, and the inmates of the tent came out to see who the strangers were. They recognized my friends and received them with demonstrations of joy, which was the more remarkable as the Lapps are far from being demonstrative.
The next day in the afternoon we returned to our tent, the reindeer as frisky as the day before and running as fast. I have never forgotten those two glorious rides, and I shall remember them as long as I live.
Bidding my Lapp friends good-bye I came one day to Lake Givijärvi and further on to Lake Aitijärvi. There I saw a lonely farm with a comfortable dwelling-house of logs. How pleasant this habitation seemed in that snow land. The smoke curling over the chimney told that there were people there, and soon after we were in front of the house, and I entered a large room, and saw a man with long black shaggy hair tinged with grey. His name was Adam Triump. Then a woman, his wife, came in, also with loose shaggy black hair falling over her shoulders. My guide and I were made welcome.
From there I travelled once more eastward, driving over the Ivalajoki, which falls into the Enarejärvi. If I had been travelling alone I should certainly have perished, for I did not know where to find the people of the thinly inhabited country.