We had seven reindeer, two of which ran loose, so that we could change
occasionally on the road. I insisted on changing mine at once, and
received in return a smaller animal, which made up in spirit what he
lacked in strength. Our conductor was a tall, handsome Finn, with blue
eyes and a bright, rosy complexion. His name was Isaac, but he was
better known by his nickname of _Pitka Isaaki_, or Long Isaac. He was a
slow, good-humoured, prudent, careful fellow, and probably served our
purpose as well as anybody we could have found. Anton, however, who made
his first journey with us, was invaluable. His father had some
misgivings on account of his timidity, but he was so ambitious to give
satisfaction that we found him forward enough.

I have already described the country through which we passed, as it was
merely a continuation of the scenery below Muonioniska--low, wooded
hills, white plains, and everywhere snow, snow, snow, silence and death.
The cold increased to 33 deg. below zero, obliging me to bury my nose in my
boa and to keep up a vigorous exercise of my toes to prevent them from
freezing, as it is impossible to cover one's boots in a pulk. The night
was calm, clear, and starry; but after an hour a bank of auroral light
gradually arose in the north, and formed a broad arch, which threw its
lustre over the snow and lighted up our path. Almost stationary at
first, a restless motion after a time agitated the gleaming bow; it shot
out broad streamers of yellow fire, gathered them in and launched them
forth again, like the hammer of Thor, which always returned to his hand,
after striking the blow for which it had been hurled. The most wonderful
appearance, however, was an immense square curtain, which fell from all
the central part of the arch. The celestial scene-shifters were rather
clumsy, for they allowed one end to fall lower than the other, so that
it over-lapped and doubled back upon itself in a broad fold. Here it
hung for probably half an hour, slowly swinging to and fro, as if moved
by a gentle wind. What new spectacle was in secret preparation behind it
we did not learn, for it was hauled up so bunglingly that the whole arch
broke and fell in, leaving merely a pile of luminous ruins under the
Polar Star.

Hungry and nearly frozen, we reached Palajoki at half-past nine, and
were at once ushered into the guests' room, a little hut separated from
the main building. Here, barring an inch of ice on the windows