on my breast to dry the
moisture, for the fine snow came through the smoke hole. Then I got into
my two bags and said good-night to the family.

I was bothered by the dogs during the night. They were no sooner driven
out than they would come in to huddle with the people. One tried to come
into my bag and awoke me. I did not blame the poor dogs, for it was far
more comfortable inside than outside. When I awoke in the morning the
weather was fine, there was no wind, and some of the Lapps took the
reindeer to their new pasture.

After breakfast, my host and I drove to see some of his friends who had
pitched their tent some forty or fifty miles from us. On our way we
entered a large forest of fir trees, and soon after found ourselves in
the midst of a number of deep holes dug by reindeer in order to reach
the moss. We also saw furrows made by Lapp sleighs and tracks of skees.
The holes increased in number as we got deeper into the forest, and
driving instead of being a pleasure became a hard task. There was no
mistake about that. Our little sleighs pitched forward, then side-wise,
and rolled on one side or the other. I had the hardest work to keep
inside. At last I was pitched into one of the holes with my sleigh
almost on top of me. This was no joke. Fortunately I had undone the
twist of my rein round my wrist, for I did not wish to be dragged
against a tree in case I did upset. I was soon in my sleigh again,
however, and before long Pehr Wasara said: "We shall come to the tent of
my friend very soon." He had hardly uttered these words when we heard
the fierce barking of dogs announcing our arrival. Soon after we found
ourselves before a tent.

These dogs were strange looking, a breed I had never seen; they had the
dark color of the brown bear, and were without tails. A man came out to
silence them. He was the owner of the tent, the friend of Pehr Wasara.
He bade us in, we were made welcome, and the snuffbox was passed around.
Coffee was made and served to us with true Lapp hospitality, but to my
taste it was seasoned with a little too much salt.

We had a grand time. A big kettle filled with reindeer meat was cooked,
and Pehr Wasara told his friend all the news, and how his son had come
with me to see him. The place of honor was given to us in the tent; we
slept well, under a lot of skins, and the next morning after breakfast
we bade our host and his family good-bye.

We had not been gone long when I saw something ve