Lapland [antikvár]

TkEjoURNEy I shall never forget the first Lapp I ever set eyes on. I was standing in a snow-covered clearing when he made his sudden appearance, and his brilliant clothes—of the brightest blues, reds, and yellows—held me spellbound. What a vivid splash of color he made against the wide, white landscape! What an unbelievable contrast to his surroundings! I had to remind myself that he was a hving, contemporary representative of the most ancient nomadic tribes of Europe. He came toward us, toward my Norwegian friend and me, walking jerkily as his body shifted from side to side with the rather bandy-legged gait that (I later found out) is characteristic of many Lapps. A few feet away from us he paused and surveyed us (it seemed to me) somewhat mistrustfully. Then, at last, he said in a slow voice. Buns—buris baeve. It was a standard Lapp greeting, much the same as "Good day," and I was pleased to hear it, for he was to be our guide on a sledge trip into the land of the Lapps. Within a moment or two I realized that all other clothing from now on was going to look drab by comparison, and I thought how tremendously exciting it was going to be to explore this country and to meet its people, especially if they all wore costumes as gor-