lony of wandering
Lapps had pitched their tents, some years before our story begins, and
finding there a pleasant resting-place, had made it their home,
bringing with them their herds of reindeer to feed on the abundant
lichens with which the stony fields and hill-side trees were covered.
Somewhat apart from the little cluster of tents stood one, quite
pretentious, where dwelt Haakon, the wealthiest Lapp of all the tribe.
He counted his reindeer by hundreds, and in his tent, half buried in
the ground for safe keeping, were two great chests filled with furs,
gay, bright-colored jackets and skirts, beautiful articles of carved
bone and wood, and, more valuable than all, a little iron-bound box
full of silver marks. For Haakon had married Gunilda, a rich maiden of
one of the richest Lapp families, and she had brought these to his
tent.

Here, for a while, Gunilda lived a peaceful, happy life. Haakon was
kind, and, when baby Niels came to share her love, the days were full
of joy and content. She made him a little cradle of green baize bound
with bright scarlet, filled with moss as soft and fine as velvet, and
covered with a dainty quilt of hare's-skin. This was hung by a cord to
one of the tent-poles, and here the baby rocked for hours, while his
mother sang to him quaint, weird songs, that yet were not sad because
of the joyous baby laugh that mingled with the notes.

But, alas! after a time Haakon fell into bad habits and grew cruel and
hard to Gunilda. Though she spoke no word, her meek eyes reproached him
when he let the strong drink, or "finkel," steal away his senses; and
because he could not bear this look, he gave his wife many an unkind
word and blow, so that at last her heart was broken. Even baby Hansa,
who had come to take Niels' place in the little cradle, could not
comfort her; and, one day, when Haakon was sleeping, stupidly, by the
tent-fire, Gunilda kissed her children,--then she, too, slept, but
never to waken.

When Haakon came to his senses, he was sad for a while; but he loved
his finkel more than either children or wealth, and many a long day he
would leave them and go to Lyngen, to drink with his companions there.

Ah! those were lonely days for Niels and little Hansa. The Lapp women
were kind, taking good care of the little ones in Haakon's absence, and
would have coaxed them away to their tents to play with the other
children; but Niels remembered his gentle-voiced mother, and would not
go wit