"I have been to school in Jockmock, and I read books," replied Erik, urging on his horse to a race with the clouds; but the clouds won, for the little party had gone scarcely an English mile before they were in the midst of a thunder-storm. Over rocks and rills, under low-hanging boughs of pine and birch trees rattled the carts along the rough woodland road. The rain poured down in sheets, zigzag lightning flashed across the sky, and a peal of thunder crashed and rumbled through the forest.

Lieutenant Ekman threw his coat over Gerda, covering her from head to foot, and called to Erik that they must stop. As he spoke, a second flash of lightning showed a great boulder beside the road and Erik answered, "Here we are at my father's tent. It is just beyond that rock."

Another moment, and with one last jounce and jolt, the two carts had rounded the turn in the road and stopped in a small clearing beside a lake. The arrival of the carts, or karra, as they are called in Sweden, had brought the whole family of Lapps to the door of the tent. There they stood, huddled together,--Erik's father, mother, brother and sisters,--looking out to see who was arriving in such a downpour.

Lieutenant Ekman jumped down, gathered Gerda up in his arms, coat and all, and ran toward the tent. Birger followed, while Erik waited to tie the horses to a tree.

Immediately the group at the doorway disappeared inside the tent, making way for the strangers to enter, and when Gerda had shaken herself out of her father's coat, a scene of the greatest confusion greeted her eyes.

The frame of the tent was made of poles driven into the ground and drawn together at the top. It was covered with a coa.r.s.e woolen cloth which is made by the Lapps and is very strong. A cross-pole was fastened to the frame to support the cooking-kettle, under which wood had been placed for a fire.

An opening had been left at the top of the tent to allow the smoke to escape. Birger had often made such a tent of poles and canvas when he was spending the summer with his grandmother in Dalarne.

At the right of the entrance was a pile of reindeer skins, and there, huddled together with the three children, were four big dogs. The dogs stood up and began to growl, but Erik's father, who was a short, thick-set man with black eyes and a skin which was red and wrinkled from exposure to the cold winds, silenced them with a word. He then helped Erik spread some dry skins for the visitors on the left side of the tent.

The Lapp mother immediately busied herself with lighting the fire, putting some water into the kettle to boil, and grinding some coffee.

As she moved about the tent, Gerda saw that a baby, strapped to a cradle-board, hung over her back.

The baby's skin was white and soft, her cheeks rosy, her hair as yellow as Gerda's. She opened her blue eyes wide at the sight of the strangers, but not a sound did she make. Evidently Lapp babies were not expected to cry.

The coffee was soon ready, and was poured into cups for the guests, while Erik and his brother and sisters drank theirs in turn from a big bowl.

Lieutenant Ekman talked with Erik's father, who, like many of the Lapps, could speak Swedish; but the children were all silent, and the dogs lay still in their corner, their gleaming eyes watching every motion of the strangers.

When Gerda had finished drinking the coffee, which was very good, she took two small packages from her pocket and put them into her father's hand. "They are for Erik's family," she whispered. "Birger and I bought them in Gellivare."

"Don't you think it would be better for you to give them out yourself?"

he asked; but Gerda shook her head as if she had suddenly become dumb, and so Lieutenant Ekman distributed the gifts.

There was a string of sh.e.l.ls for the youngest child; a silver ring, a beaded belt, a knife and a cheap watch for the older children; a box of matches and some tobacco for the father, and some needles and bright colored thread for the mother.

"We should like to give you something in return," said Erik's father; "but we have nothing in the world except our reindeer. If we should give you one of them you might have some trouble in taking it home," and he laughed loudly at the idea.

"If you wish to please me, you can do so and help your son at the same time," replied Lieutenant Ekman. "Erik is a good lad. He can read well, and has studied while he has been working in the mines. Now he wishes to learn a trade, and we can take him with us to Stockholm if you will let him go."

Erik's father did not speak for a few moments; then he rose and opened the door of the tent, motioning for the others to follow him out into the forest.

CHAPTER VIII

FOUR-FOOTED FRIENDS

The brief thunder-storm was over, the high noonday sun was shining down into the clearing, and the rumble of Thor's hammer could be heard only faintly in the distance. In the trees overhead the birds were calling to one another, shaking the drops of rain from many a twig and leaf as they flitted among the green branches.

Erik's father took up a stout birch staff which was leaning against the tent, and led the way to the reindeer pasture, followed by his dogs.

These dogs are the useful friends of the Lapps. They are very strong and brave, and watch the reindeer constantly to keep them together. When the herd is attacked by a pack of wolves, the frightened animals scatter in all directions, and then the owner and his dogs have hard work to round them up again.

Now, as the dogs walked along behind their master, they stopped once in a while to sniff the air, and their keen eyes seemed to see everything.

The country was wild and desolate. As far as the eye could reach, there was nothing but low hills, bare and rocky, with dark forests of fir and birch. It was cold and the wind blew in strong gusts. Tiny rills and brooks, formed by the melted snow and the frequent rains, chattered among the rocks; and in the deepest hollows there were still small patches of snow.

Birger gathered up some of the snow and made a s...o...b..ll. "Put it in your pocket, and take it home to Oscar as a souvenir of Lapland," Gerda suggested.

"No," he replied, taking out his camera, "I'll set it up on this rock and take a picture of it,--s...o...b..ll in July."

"You'd better wait until you see the reindeer before you begin taking pictures," called Gerda, hurrying on without waiting for her brother.

In a few moments more they came in sight of the herd, and saw animals of all sizes, many of them having superb, spreading antlers.

"Look," said Erik's father, pointing to the reindeer with pride, "there are over three hundred deer,--all mine."

"All the needs of the mountain Lapps are supplied by the reindeer,"

Lieutenant Ekman told the children. "These useful animals furnish their owners with food, clothing, bedding and household utensils. They are horse, cow, express messenger and freight train. In summer they carry heavy loads on their backs; in winter they draw sledges over the snow."

Some of the reindeer were lying down, but others were eating the short, greenish-white moss which grows in patches among the rocks, tearing it off with their forefeet. They showed no signs of fear at the approach of the strangers, and did not even stop to look up at them.

Two or three moved slowly toward Erik when he spoke to them, but not one would touch the moss which he held out in his hand.

"This is my own deer," Erik told Birger, showing a mark on the ear of a reindeer which had splendid great antlers. "He was given to me when I was born, to form the beginning of my herd. I have ten deer now, but I would gladly give them all to my father if he would let me go to Stockholm with you."

Lieutenant Ekman turned to the father. "It shall cost him nothing," he said. "Are you willing that he should go?"

"Yes, if he does not want to stay here," replied the father, who had hoped that the sight of the reindeer would make his son forget his longing to leave home.

Erik nodded his head. "I want to go," he said.

"Then it is settled," said Lieutenant Ekman, "and I will see that he learns a good trade."

"Yes, it is settled," agreed Erik's father; "but I had hoped that my son would live here in Lapland and become an owner of reindeer. There are not so many owners as there should be."

"Why, I thought that all Laplanders owned reindeer!" exclaimed Birger.

"No," said his father, "there are about seven thousand Lapps in Sweden, but only three or four hundred of them own herds. There are the fisher Lapps who live on the coast; and then there are the field Lapps who live on the river-banks and cultivate little farms. It is only the mountain Lapps who own reindeer and spend all their lives wandering up and down the country, wherever their herds lead them."

"What do the reindeer live on in the winter when the snow covers the moss?" questioned Birger.

"The Lapps have to find places where the snow is not more than four or five feet deep, and then the animals can dig holes in the snow with their forefeet until they reach the moss," replied his father. "The reindeer are never housed and seem to like cold weather. They prefer to dig up the moss for themselves, and will not eat it after it has been gathered and dried."

Just then the Lapp mother came to speak to her husband, and in a few minutes all the rest of the family arrived.

"They are going to milk the reindeer," Erik explained to Gerda.

"How often do you milk them?" she asked.

"Twice a week," was the answer. "They give only a little milk, but it is very thick and rich."