rom head to
foot in a cold sweat, and would have landed immediately, had it been
possible. The Swede was as inexpressive as ever, with the same half-smile
on his fair, serious face.

I was glad to find that our captain did not intend to lose the wind, but
would start again in an hour or two. We had a quieter night than could
have been anticipated, followed by a brilliant morning. Such good
progress had been made that at sunrise the lighthouse on the rocks of
Landsort was visible, and the jagged masses of that archipelago of
cloven isles which extends all the way to Tornea, began to stud the sea.
The water became smoother as we ran into the sound between Landsort and
the outer isles. A long line of bleak, black rocks, crusted with snow,
stretched before us. Beside the lighthouse, at their southern extremity,
there were two red frame-houses, and a telegraph station. A boat, manned
by eight hardy sailors, came off with a pilot, who informed us that
Stockholm was closed with ice, and that the other steamers had been
obliged to stop at the little port of Dalaro, thirty miles distant. So
for Dalaro we headed, threading the channels of the scattering islands,
which gradually became higher and more picturesque, with clumps of dark
fir crowning their snowy slopes. The midday sun hung low on the horizon,
throwing a pale yellow light over the wild northern scenery; but there
was life in the cold air, and I did not ask for summer.

We passed the deserted fortress of Dalaro, a square stone structure,
which has long since outlived its purpose, on the summit of a rock in
the sound. Behind it, opened a quiet bay, held in a projecting arm of
the mainland, near the extremity of which appeared our port--a village
of about fifty houses, scattered along the abrupt shore. The dark-red
buildings stood out distinctly against the white background; two steamers
and half a dozen sailing crafts were moored below them; about as many
individuals were moving quietly about, and for all the life and animation
we could see, we might have been in Kamtchatka.

As our voyage terminated here, our first business was to find means of
getting to Stockholm by land. Our fellow-passengers proposed that we
should join company, and engage five horses and three sleds for ourselves
and luggage. The Swede willingly undertook to negotiate for us, and set
about the work with his usual impassive semi-cheerfulness. The landlord
of the only inn in the place promised to h