A TYPICAL LAPP PEASANT.
From a Photograph.
Well, I went to Lapland, eager to see the semi-savages of whom I had heard so much. It is unnecessary to describe the earlier stages of my journey. Tromsö, Hammerfest, and Lyngseedt, though much frequented, are but large villages in the neighbourhood of which the nomad Lapps pasture their reindeer. The animals feed on a sort of lichen, termed reindeer moss, which, during the autumn, covers the mountains with what looks like a mantle of snow.
The natives live in primitive wattle and mud huts, and I found entire families living in paternal promiscuity with their animals in what—judged by the usual standards—was a most pestilential atmosphere, the predominating feature of which was a nauseous mingled odour of leather and boiled coffee.
As to the people themselves, the typical Laplander, with whom I grew familiar, was, by no means a disagreeable type. Many of the older men bear a strange resemblance to French peasants, having the same dark skin, black hair, large mouth, thin face, prominent cheek-bones, and long, pointed chin. Even in the most wretched hovels I was offered a cup of coffee, accompanied by polite gestures that would have been appropriate for the bestowal of Royal hospitality. In exchange for this courtesy I usually presented my hosts with chocolate sweetmeats, which were received with transports of gratitude. My general impression, however, was that I was among a very primitive peasant race, but I am bound to admit that the Laplanders fell in with all my requirements as a photographer with the utmost good grace; they invariably took the pose I required better than my own people, and never displayed any unseemly curiosity.
I had not forgotten the famous Mickel Nilsson Nia, and when I reached Nawick a Lapp schoolmistress there was kind enough to serve me as guide to the abode of her celebrated countryman. We walked for an hour through a most desolate stretch of country, which gave one the impression that it had been abandoned after some mighty natural cataclysm. In this landscape of death the only persons we met were a stray herdsman or two, miserably attired, driving before them a few attenuated reindeer. Suddenly my guide stopped, exclaiming, “Here is Mickel’s house.”
A LAPP WOMAN OF THE BETTER CLASS—MOST OF THE FEMALES HAVE A MARKED PREDILECTION FOR TOBACCO.
From a Photograph.
On the threshold two women were engaged in tanning reindeer hides. One of the women was elderly, the other quite young, yet they were attired in an almost identical manner. Each wore a short, coarse brown woollen skirt, beneath which were visible garments that resembled trousers made of bands of tightly-wound cloth. On their shoulders were grey shawls, on their feet enormous shoes of reindeer leather, on their heads bonnets of some blue material covered with lace. The colours usually employed in Lapp costumes, by the way, are white, black, grey, blue, and green; brighter hues are seldom seen.
At sight of us the two women ceased working to stare, and then broke out into a hearty laugh—not of derision, but of welcome. The Laplander is of an extremely jovial disposition, and invariably prides himself on the possession of some nickname—not always complimentary—bestowed upon him in jest. My guide addressed herself to the younger of the two women, who, in addition to the garments I have enumerated, wore some splendid reindeer furs. Then a young peasant came out of the hut, and there ensued a tremendous discussion, the result of which was to convince us that we had made a mistake—Mickel Nilsson’s hut was farther on. The young man volunteered to accompany us there.