The town of Tornea, across the frozen river,
looked really imposing, with the sharp roof and tall spire of its old
church rising above the line of low red buildings. Campbell, I remember,
says,

"Cold as the rocks on Torneo's hoary brow,"

with the same disregard of geography which makes him grow palm trees
along the Susquehanna River. There was Tornea; but I looked in vain for
the "hoary brow." Not a hill within sight, nor a rock within a circuit
of ten miles, but one unvarying level, like the western shore of the
Adriatic, formed by the deposits of the rivers and the retrocession of
the sea.

Our road led up the left bank of the river, both sides of which were
studded with neat little villages. The country was well cleared and
cultivated, and appeared so populous and flourishing that I could
scarcely realise in what part of the world we were. The sun set at a
quarter past one, but for two hours the whole southern heaven was superb
in its hues of rose and orange. The sheepskin lent us by our landlady
kept our feet warm, and we only felt the cold in our faces; my nose,
especially, which, having lost a coat of skin, was very fresh and
tender, requiring unusual care At three o'clock, when we reached
Kuckula, the first station, the northern sky was one broad flush of the
purest violet, melting into lilac at the zenith, where it met the fiery
skirts of sunset.

We refreshed ourselves with hot milk, and pushed ahead, with better
horses. At four o'clock it was bright moonlight, with the stillest air.
We got on bravely over the level, beaten road, and in two hours reached
Korpikyla, a large new inn, where we found very tolerable accommodations.
Our beds were heaps of reindeer skins; a frightfully ugly Finnish girl,
who knew a few words of Swedish, prepared us a supper of tough meat,
potatoes, and ale. Everything was now pure Finnish, and the first
question of the girl, "_Hvarifran kommar du?_" (Where dost thou come
from?) showed an ignorance of the commonest Swedish form of address. She
awoke us with a cup of coffee in the morning, and negotiated for us the
purchase of a reindeer skin, which we procured for something less than a
dollar. The _hus-bonde_ (house-peasant, as the landlord is called here)
made no charge for our entertainment, but said we might give what we
pleased. I offered, at a venture, a sum equal to about fifty cents,
whereupon he sent the girl to say that he thanked us most heartily.

The next day