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

was drawing to close, and rem en- bered with
regret that the hour Of my departure from
KGblitz was ut hand. Kublitx is place little
known. 1t lies in Swedish Lapland, about q
hundred and fifty miles beyond the extreme
limits Of Norway; and its silvery river and
emerald pastures are surrounded by the far
stretching moorlands, Of which by far the
greater part Of the country consists.
And the people! / never met q young face
or al old one among these simple folks that
had not a pleasant smile for the stranger; /
never went into n Lapland hut without finding
n kindly welcome, for my worthy little hosts
would hustle to fill the biggest bowl with milk
and the largest basket with berries, and to
produce great piles Of ''smolke" and dried fish
from the sea coast, and, luxury unparalleled,
the way from Norway flor Lapland has no
bresd) to do honor to the foreign guest. How
could help growing fond Of these queer, elm
looking, soft-hearted people?
The village of Kublitz was built Of green
boughs and wattles, the posts alone which sup
ported each cottage being of pine timber. In
fact, the huts were not cottages; they were
leafy booths such rs the rowing Tartar some
times constructs; and these summer palaces of
living verdure added to the holiday air Of the
place, and were suggestive of a perpetual pic
mic. But the true houses were under the earth,
not above its surface. The green tents have
been describing were mere temporary pavil-
ions; and beneath them, with only low chin
ney, like a msgnifed molehill, peeping above
ground, were the true homes Of the Lapland-
ers, the caverned storehOuses for all their
worldly wealth, and their own dwellings for
more than nine months Of the year. And now
the time was coming when the green booths
were TO be deserted, and the sun to vanish, and
the strange underground life, like a mole's,
was to begin again for the long, iron bound
arctic winter. Peter Wow, the chief man of
the village, in whose wigwam I dwelt, warned
me that the daylight would speedily cease, and
that ne had better prepare the boat to convey
me down the river southwards, so that might
reach Norway "before it got dark" A strange
idea seized me-what if / were to stop
behind / have been here through the day
light, the long three months day, that puz-
zled me so terribly at first, and robbed me of
my sleep, and made me blink like an owl at
the uuwearying sun that would shine at mid
night, and which upset all the habits of my
previous life. / recollected what a strange
sensation that had been, how new, fresh and
piquant; snd il is not often, let me tell you,
that n somewhat world-worn and world wear
led man, who has passed his grand climsteric
can discover q sensation that shall be at once
new, fresh and piquant. L had promised to
spend Christmas with my sister in Gloucester
shire, to be sure; but, ''pshsw," thought /, "I
can 90 next summer. Maria Jane hasn't seen
me these eighteen years and more, 30 she can
wait till Easter; and my nephews and nieces
wOn'tfret too much, dare say, about the non
appearance OF an uncle they never set their ju-
venile eyss upon. Ny mind is made up. FL
stay all night"
A pretty long night, too, readers night
that begins in early October and ends in June.
Having tried perpetual daylight, / was now
going to essay how liked its sntipodes.
Il Lapland winter has generally two draw
backs, Of a nature almost unbearable to
EurOpeans-itis is too crowded, and it is shock
ingly smoky. But Peter Wow, chief Of the
village, was a rich man jn his way, and had
rOOmy and cOmmodiOus set of caverns for his
dwelling, with furs and elder down quits in
plenty, as became the owner of Eve huudred
reindeer. The family slept in a quaint tier of
little box beds, about the usual length of mig
nOnette troughs, which were sunk into the clay
walls like q row Of sleeping berths on board q
Packetship- But was q distinguished for
eigner, had den to myself, such as a hermit
Of especially sustere and selfmortifying ten
denotes might have constructed, for il was
without q window Of any kind, and air was
admitted by means Of the hollow trunk of an
alder tree, which had been thrust through the
roof Of the cave, and made a sort of wooden
shaft overhead. Tho floor was carpeted, how
ever, with soft dry moss; the bed was pile Of
dressed deer skins, as supple and plant as
silk, acOpper lamp hung by a chain from the
roof; had pillows and holsters stuffed with the
plumage of the elder duck and the wild swan,
two besrskin coverlets, and at least q dozen
quilts Of yielding elder down; and-crowning
nagnGcence there was old-fashloned
chest Of oaken drawers, with brass handles and
key-plates, to which Peter Wow pointed proud
ly, as to proof Of intercourse with the civil
ized world Of modern Europe. 1t was evidently
some relic Of a wreck of the North Cape, and
had been dragged many q weary mile by the
patient deer that drew the slsdges. fancied
the scent Of the sea hung about il still.
Scarcely were we snugly established in our
H. 4 rka bar. Gva
1 sss summoned to join solemn procession
which annually, according to immemorial Gus
tom, assembled the neighbOring hill to see the
last Of the sun for that year, and bid the orb Of
day 'Good-by." 1t was a strangely -pictur-
esque sight, and not without its touching pa
thos, that 'ssemblage of villagers, Of every age
from the ~rinsled grsndsire who tottered on
his staff, ara with palsy-shaken hand shaded
his aged eyes as be watched that fast-declining
sun which was setting, not for a night, but for
dreary winter, and which be might sacrcely
hope to mark again, down to the child whose
wondering eyes noted the scene for the frst
time since its reason began to dawn. All were
there-the maidens and young men, the rev.
erend elders, the feeble crones who shivered
already in the strange ominous chill that per-
vaded the al; the hardy hunters, the no less
hardy shepherds, or rather deerherds-old and
young were CARING with a common parpose and
common intensity Of feeling upon the sinking
manner Of poetic memories rushed in upon my
mind as the sun approached the horizon, and
prepared for the final plunge. The wild and
mystic verses of Tegner, perhaps suggested by
that very spectacle Of the death Of the North
ern sun, recurred 70 me with bodi5g clear
ness began to wonder whether / had been
very rash and absurd in wishing to stop win
ter in Lapland, like q mole In its burrow.
began to sigh after Gloucestershire, where
the sun would shire out, many q day, on the
crisp snow and frost-silvered boughs, when /
should be left in Cinmerian darkness.
Plunge, the red sun had flashed down below
the horizon. A heavy twilight settled, rs il
by magic, over the fair landscape. still gilded
By the smiles Of summer. Alas! the good
fairy, so benefcent, so bright, in her rain
bow robe, studded with flowers, was gone, and
King Frost was TO reign over her devastated
rsains Hark! the long vailing eadences Of
the sweet, sad chant-an old, old heathen
chant, Of the days when Freya was uorshipped;
Freys, at once Venus and Summer of this far
remote race-in which the Laplanders bswail
the parting day. Now for the long, long
ni0htt Already as We turned to quit the hill