grew
lighter, we were surprised to find that our postilion was a girl. She
had a heavy sheepskin over her knees, a muff for her hands, and a shawl
around her head, leaving only the eyes visible. Thus accoutred, she
drove on merrily, and, except that the red of her cheeks became scarlet
and purple, showed no signs of the weather. As we approached Sormjole,
the first station, we again had a broad view of the frozen Bothnian
Gulf, over which hovered a low cloud of white ice-smoke. Looking down
into the snowy valley of Sormjole, we saw the straight pillars of smoke
rising from the houses high into the air, not spreading, but gradually
breaking off into solid masses which sank again and filled the hollow,
almost concealing the houses. Only the white, handsome church, with its
tall spire, seated on a mound, rose above this pale blue film and shone
softly in the growing flush of day.

We ordered horses at once, after drinking a bowl of hot milk, flavored
with cinnamon. This is the favourite winter drink of the people,
sometimes with the addition of brandy. But the _finkel_, or common
brandy of Sweden, is a detestable beverage, resembling a mixture of
turpentine, train oil, and bad molasses, and we took the milk unmixed,
which admirably assisted in keeping up the animal heat. The mercury by
this time had fallen to 38 deg. below zero. We were surprised and delighted
to find that we stood the cold so easily, and prided ourselves not a
little on our powers of endurance. Our feet gradually became benumbed,
but, by walking up the hills, we prevented the circulation from coming
to a stand-still.

The cold, however, played some grotesque pranks with us. My beard,
moustache, cap, and fur collar were soon one undivided lump of ice. Our
eyelashes became snow-white and heavy with frost, and it required
constant motion to keep them from freezing together. We saw everything
through visors barred with ivory. Our eyebrows and hair were as hoary as
those of an octogenarian, and our cheeks a mixture of crimson and
orange, so that we were scarcely recognizable by each other. Every one
we met had snow-white locks, no matter how youthful the face, and,
whatever was the colour of our horses at starting, we always drove
milk-white steeds at the close of the post. The irritation of our
nostrils occasioned the greatest inconvenience, and as the handkerchiefs
froze instantly, it soon became a matter of pain and difficulty to use
them. You might as we