So, like those witches who speak thus in ‘Manfred,' for ever onward, forward, where no creature that had life was ever able to continue or exist, we slided, we glided, far into the night. Frozen lakes appeared in front-appeared on either side -ghastly to look upon, frightful, horrible. And I felt as if gazing on that frozen region of the 'Inferno,' where the faces of the departed stare at one from their place of punishment or living burial in ice, to challenge whosoever may pass by.

Our rapid progress came however to a miserable end, when Hans, going over some pieces of rock he did not allow for in the darkness, contrived to snap one of his snow-shoes; making of course the other one comparatively useless and himself unable to keep up. I called a halt; and myself setting the example, gave the word to remove all snow-shoes from the feet, which was obeyed with an implicit, soldier-like obedience. Here we rested for a bit to eat and drink, while

darkness was increasing, but Hans declared there was no doubt about the way. "Forward” again presently, we rose and tried to get along, but here was a wretched struggle. Floundering deep in the snow sometimes we stuck, sometimes one getting on ahead would disappear, while each man struggled for his own life. Oaths and curses in their language filled the icy air of night; while the hoarse word of command was given, shouting one by one, to keep togetherto be ready any moment with a hand, keep each other in sight and not be separated by this treacherous darkness, lest any one might sink into a chasm. At At every few yards we rallied, guided by each other's voices, rested a little while and then pushed on once more. In momentary expectation we should soon see something of the hut, I frequently, whenever some rocks of any size came near the way, rushed at one as it were with open arms-only to recoil, withered and blasted by the galling disappointment, like a

man who has been cheated of all he ever hoped, believed in, or lived for, to find it only a bare rock!

Time went on. We have already been twelve hours on foot, and must have given up in blank despair ere this, only that Hans recognised his way and said the hut was somewhere close at hand. What should be our joy, when too exhausted to give signs of it by shouts, but the sight of a bleached and wooden doorway, on the face of a black hill just above; here was our destination, here at length was to be the wandering spirit's rest! On getting up to it, however, we found it frozen tight; but that was a trifling matter, and the present writer was let down into it through the skylight, by a rope tied round under his arms; landed on the table, and from that station arrived in safety on the floor. The application of a good sized boot upon that door soon sent it flying open, and my men came in. We shook hands all round, lit a blazing fire-in

fact two fires, because there was a German stove also and as if it had been in the bosom of Mount Hecla fed the flames, by chopping timber with iron implements, axes and hatchets, like anvils with resounding noise-while the outside was covered with snow!

Tuesday, October 8th.-We found the hut very comfortable indeed. This hut, by way of explanation, is only one of several that were built by the writer's father and predecessor as boxes for the season when stalking reindeer; they are from fifteen to thirty miles apart, and command access to the reindeer of this whole territory, for he knew their chief places of resort who built these huts to live in. Of this one, by name Baccahella, the stone walls were four feet thick; had twelve feet square of space inside, stones uncemented but well lined with reindeer-moss, and I slept on a bed of the same. To eke out a subsistence whenever there might be no venison, as the

sport

was extremely uncertain, here were on the shelf whole tins of soup, and meat preserved, besides lobsters hermetically sealed, and on the ground— a dozen of champagne! These comforts (the champagne was Montebello) are taken up on a sledge beforehand, being sent out from England in the spring, and conveyed here—likewise also a supply of timber from the forest-when the snow is hard. Not to neglect the mind, here was also some pabulum mentis, in the shape of a Danish dictionary (very interesting, but sent me to sleep), a Life of Peter the Great,' and the 'Poems of Ossian;' which same poems of Ossian, even if original, have no great signs of intellect, and left me in a state of mind that one who reads a long-continued record of wars, conflicts, murders, killing one man here, another man there—unless he is able to keep it up-must inevitably feel. When Cairbar, who has already killed Cormac in Temora "shrinks before Oscar's sword! He creeps in darkness behind a stone! He lifts the