Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1860-11-24

ton through all the subterranean dwelling !;
and at very early hour, the monotonous but
| impatient beating Of the Lspland drum sum-
moned the guests. All Kublitz was there,
young and old, in holiday garb. There were
games and sweetmeats for the children, dane
/ ing for the lads and lasses, and abundance Of
tobacco, gossip, and strong liquors for the
seniors of the village. A pet rsindeer,-a
lovely, milk-white creature, almost hidden by
| the flowers with which ii was garlanded-was
led through the room by q rope of roses held
by six young maidens. Six young hunters
| followed each with q drawn sword, with which
they were presently to figure in the ancient
sword dance of Scandinavia. The orchester,
composed Of the strsngest looking instruments,
| still mansged-for the Laps are very musical
Pathos, now almost maddeningly gay and ex-
| citing. Such hearty, vigorous, agile dancing
never beheld. Even in the gayest circles of
Stockholm, q primitive capital, in which the
elegant world has not yet become too languid
for enjoyment, those Lapland dancers would
have been wonders, and yet there was nothing
boisterous or ungainly in their movements.
Indeed, these were as sprightly and almost as
small as fairies, and had something of the
| fawnlike elasticity and grace of childhood in
all their motions. Indeed, twas . marvellous
sight, that assembly Of small folks under the
level of the earth, and it put me in mind Of
what heard of the Daione Sheah of the Scot
tish legends, and their revelry within some
haunted hill. coald hardly help fancying 1
was really captive or guest of a troop of
carousing gnomes, or that, like the Rhymer,
had been borne away to Fairylsnd, and had
but faint prospect Of revisiting the real day
light world again.
The next morning I had a surprise indeed
A shout from the upper earth aroused me, and
scrambiing to the outer air, / beheld the rocks,
the black pine copse, heillimitable moorands
one dazzling, all-pervading sheet Of binding
| snow. All gone the fair flowers, the song
birds, the uncultured fruits that offered their
profusion everywhere, blooming heather and
green grass, all gone buried until next sum-
| mer brought back the daylight, beneath a
spouess, unvarying cloud OF, virgin snow. To
| my great relief, il was not as dark as had
| expected. A sort of hazy, shimmering light
prevailed, like moonbeams through a mist
| The northern wind blew keen; and even as
| gazed, the binding snow-fakes came whirling
| down again, and seemed to bury the dead sum-
| mer deeper at every instant.
We all laid by our summer clothes, put on
/ our manifold wraps of fur and wooden, and be-
| took US to winter ayocations. And now came
strange season, when it was hard to say
| whether it was day or night, or both, or neither
| The lamps were never suffered to 90 out; the
L fddles and drums, the bone flute and the musk
| ox's horn, were never silent for three consec-
| tive hours; and there seemed no regular times
| for meals, or sleep, or work or recreation. On
the contrary, music, and such simple labors as
| could be performed underground. and dancing
and cooking, to say nothing of eating, drinking
and gossiping, went on in promiscuous fash
ion through the twenty-four bours of what
| would, down South, have been legal day If
any one felt tired or sleepy, ne or she went to
| sleep; the hungry ate, the thirsty drank; the
/ perpetual fires constantly cooked the most out
landish mssses; the fddles and drums went on
as if lf-sotipg; the reindeer were fed, tended
II arl lbaI. L.
| trinkets chiseled, and stories related to ga
| ping listeners, all at once and all forever
left of looking at my watch at all, except me-
| chanlcally, L went about as q sleep walker
| might; dreamed standing. / passed great
| part OF that wonderful winter not unpleasant
| ly, but in a sort Of amiable nightmare OF
course 1 saw no newspapers; the world might
wag as it pleased. II was in the dayIight-I
in the dark. OF course, I received no letters;
the post courier was shut ont, along with the
| sun. and was the tenant Of strange lamplit,
moonshiny world.
We were not always underground. In the
fine weather the reindeer were driven out to
browse on the lichens and moses, from which
| they scratched away the snow with their fore
feet. There were hunting parties, too. when
we chased and slew the white wolves, the
white hsres, the martens, the deer the birds
| all and every one ia their winter livery of
white. There was the ermine chase, and the
chase of the white fox, and grand battle with
| an old giant of bear, who presumed on the
| superstitious respect the Laps have for "Old
Grandfather Wizard" as they call him, and
robbed the storehouses, until his thefts became
| unbearable. The wolf hunts were rather dan
gerous; but the bear was terrible fellow; he
wounded four Of our best hunters, cowed the
dogs with his ursino hugs, and nearly beat the
| whole community, when a lucky shot laid him
low. And then there were the glorious drives,
| oh, the wild excitement Of sweeping over the
| frozen snow in deer-drawn sledge, swift as a
hawk on the wing, every bell jingiing, and the
wild driver singing as he cheers on bis an
tlered team, that fly like the wind over the
da.ziing white moorelands.' The worst of it
| is, 1t takes away your breath uncommonly; and
| when waxed confident, and would drive per-
| sonally, was run away with, of course, upset
with an awful purl into drift Eve fsthoms
deep, and dug out ANONYMOUSLY, amid much
laughter Of the little folks, who greatly crowed
| over clumsy Gulliver. Still, the drives were
famous fun. I was frostbitten twice, and re-
vived by q snow rubbing; but, worse, / was
| struck with snow blindness, for had to pass
a fortnight in my cabin in absolute darkness,
and was not the happier for the reflection that
| my own obstinacy in refusing to wear snow
| spectacles had brought this agreeable seclusion
| upon me. But the kind little folks hustled
about me, and told me the most wonderful sto-
ries Of witches, genii, and so forth, all with
< perfect childish belief and gravity, and sang
and played to me, and lightened my loneli-
ness considerably. When recovered, I was
thankful for the spectacles, and never suffered
| from the glare any more. So the winter wore on.
But the Merry Dancers. was going to omit
the most strangely splendid sight that ever as
l tonished my eyes, and to which whole Royal
Academy of artists could never do justice The
Northern Lights, the customary auroras and
msteors, were unusually splendid about mid
winter; but once, as was returning from a
slsdge excursion, an exclamation from my
| guide made me start. i shall never forget the
l scene The heavens were one vast pavilion of
| many-colored lights blae, orange, fiery red,
| deep violet, now paved with fiery gold, now
| spangled with lustrous gems, all blended in
one glowing mass; while beneath, and touch
ing the snowy plain, wheeled and sparkled, as
| in fantastic dance, q hundred columns Of pris-
matte fire, that seemed the creation Of some
| wild dream. These were the Merry Dancers,
| the wondrous Lights Of the North. Ah. 1t was
pleasant winter; and protest that I was
half sorry when we all went up the hill again,
and hailed the rising sun, and Day and summer
| came pouring in ut once; and the boat was pre-
pared, and Dads my gnome hosts adieu, and