ead, butter, and hot milk. The
children came in every few minutes to stare at our writing, an operation
which they probably never saw before. They would stand in silent
curiosity for half an hour at a time, then suddenly rush out, and enjoy
a relief of shouts and laughter on the outside. Since leaving Matarengi
we had been regarded at all the stations with much wonder, not always
unmixed with mistrust. Whether this was simply a manifestation of the
dislike which the Finns have for the Swedes, for whom they probably took
us, or of other suspicions on their part, we could not decide.

After a time one of the neighbors, who had been sent for on account of
his knowing a very few words of Swedish, was ushered into the room.
Through him I ordered horses, and ascertained that the next station,
Kihlangi, was three and a half Swedish miles distant, but there was a
place on the Russian side, one mile off, where we could change horses.
We had finished writing, and were sitting by the stove, consulting how
we should arrange the bed so as to avoid contact with the dirty
coverlet, when the man returned and told us we must go into another
house. We crossed the yard to the opposite building, where, to our great
surprise, we were ushered into a warm room, with two good beds, which
had clean though coarse sheets, a table, looking-glass, and a bit of
carpet on the floor. The whole male household congregated to see us take
possession and ascertain whether our wants were supplied. I slept
luxuriously until awakened by the sound of our landlord bringing in wood
to light the fire. He no sooner saw that my eyes were open than he
snatched off his cap and threw it upon the floor, moving about with as
much awe and silence as if it were the Emperor's bedroom. His daughter
brought us excellent coffee betimes. We washed our faces with our
tumblers of drinking water, and got under way by half-past six.

The temperature had changed again in the night, being 28 deg. below zero,
but the sky was clear and the morning moonlight superb. By this time we
were so far north that the moon did not set at all, but wheeled around
the sky, sinking to within eight degrees of the horizon at noonday. Our
road led across the river, past the church of Kolare, and through a
stretch of the Swedish forests back to the river again. To our great
surprise, the wind had not blown here, the snow still hung heavy on the
trees, and the road was well beaten. At the Russian post-ho