Odd People: Being a Popular Description of Singular Races of Man

The dress of the Laplander is now to be described.

The men wear on their heads tall caps, of a conical form, usually of a cloth called wadmal, or some species of kersey furnished by the merchants. This cap has a tassel at top, and around the bottom is turned up several inches, – where it is strengthened by a band of reindeer-skin, or the fur of the otter. The coat is a loose garment or frock: made of the skin of the reindeer, with the hairy side out, and fastened around the waist with a broad leathern belt.

In this belt is stuck the pointed knife, and a pouch or two, for pipe, tobacco, and spoon, are also suspended from it. Breeches of reindeer-skin – the hide of the young fawns – reach to the ankles; and buskins, or rather stockings, of the same material cover the feet. These are gartered over the ends of the breeches, in such a way that no snow can get in; and since there is neither shirt nor drawers worn, we have given every article of a Laplander’s dress. No. There are the gloves, or mittens, which must not be forgotten, – as they are one of the things most essential to his comfort. These are also the universal deer-hide.

Simple as is this dress of the Lapland men, it is not more simple than that of the Lapland women, since both one and the other are exactly alike. A slight difference is observable in the shape of the bonnet; but for the rest, the lady wears the deer-skin frock, the breeches, and boots, – and like her liege lord, she scorns to include linen in her wardrobe. This plain dress, however, is the everyday winter costume. The summer one, and especially upon grand occasions, is somewhat different, and altogether gayer. The shape is much the same; but the tunic or frock is of cloth, sometimes plain, coarse wadmal; but in the case of the richer proprietors, of fine coloured cloth, – even scarlet being sometimes worn. No matter what the quality of the cloth, however, the trimmings are always of rich, bright-coloured stuffs; and consist of bands or cords around the skirt, sleeves, and collar, elaborately stitched by the females, – who are in all cases the tailors. The leathern belt, worn with this dress, is loaded with ornaments, – little square and triangular plates of brass or white metal, and often of heavy, solid silver. The belt is an esteemed article, – as much so as his wampum to a North-American savage, – and it requires a large sum to tempt a Laplander to part with the precious equipment. A finer cap is also worn, on these summer and holiday occasions. Not unfrequently, however, the Laplander – especially the mountain Lap – sticks to his deer-skin coat, the paesk, through all weathers, and throughout all seasons, – when it is too hot simply taking off the belt, and leaving the flaps loose and open. In cold weather, and especially when riding in his sledge, an additional garment is worn. This is a fur “tippet,” which covers his shoulders down to the elbows. It is made from the shaggy skin of the brown bear, – with the claws left on and hanging down in front of the breast.

Before proceeding to describe the mode of life and occupation of the Laplander, it is necessary to state that all of the people known as Laplanders, are not occupied alike. On the contrary, they may be separated into three distinct classes, according to the lives which they lead; and it is absolutely necessary to make this classification in the illustration of their habits. They are all alike in race and national characteristics, – all Laplanders, – and they differ but little in their – style of dressing; but, in other respects, what might be said of one would not be true of the other two. I proceed, therefore, to point out the distinction.

The first to be noticed are those we have already mentioned under the title of “Coast,” or “Shore Laplanders.” The name will give an idea of their habitat, – as also their mode of life and subsistence. They dwell along the Norwegian coasts, round to the North Cape, and even beyond it. They build their gammes, or sod-thatched dwellings, in little villages around the numerous creeks and “fiords” that intersect this rock-bound shore.

Their calling is that of fishermen. They subsist almost entirely upon fish; and live by selling their surplus to the merchants and Russian traders. They keep a few sheep, sometimes a poor cow, but rarely own the reindeer. The life they lead is entirely different from that of their kindred, who dwell habitually in the interior. As it differs little from that of poor fishermen elsewhere, I shall dismiss the coast Laplander without another word.

The second kind of Lap who merits our consideration, is that known as the “Wood Laplander,” or, more commonly, “Wood Lap.” He is less known than either of the two other varieties; but, as already stated, he differs from them principally on account of his occupation. His home is to be found upon the extensive plain country of Russian Lapland, and not near the sea. He is a dweller in the pine and fir-forests; and builds him a rude hut, very similar to the gamme of the coast Lap; but he is in possession of some reindeer, – not enough, however, to support him, – and he ekes out a subsistence by fishing in the rivers and fresh-water lakes of the interior, by shooting the elk and wild reindeer, and trapping the fur-bearing animals, – the ermine, the sable, the miniver-squirrel, the badger, glutton, foxes, and wolves.

As his calling is chiefly that of a hunter and trapper, and therefore very similar to like occupations in many other parts of the world, we need not enter into details of it here. For the present, therefore, we must shelve the Wood Lap along with his kinsman of the coast.

This brings us to the third class, – the “Mountain,” or, as he is often called, the “Reindeer Laplander:” since it is the possession of this animal that chiefly distinguishes him from the other two classes of his countrymen.

His mode of life is altogether different from either, – in fact, resembling theirs in but few particulars. True, he fishes a little, and occasionally does a bit of amateur hunting; but these are mere adjuncts or pastimes. His main support is his antlered flock: it would be more truthful to call it his sole support. By the reindeer lives, by the reindeer he moves, by the reindeer he has his being.

His life is purely pastoral; he is a nomade, – a wanderer. All the world knows this; but all the world does not know why he wanders. Writers have asserted that it was to seek new pasture for his flocks, – the old ground having been eaten bare. Nothing of the sort. He leaves the fertile plains, just as the willows are putting forth their succulent shoots, – just as the rich grass begins to spring fresh and green, – and betakes himself to the bleak sides of the mountains. That does not look like seeking for a better pasture. It has nothing to do with it.

Let us follow him, however, throughout his wanderings, – through the circuit of a single year, – and, perhaps, we shall find out the motive that inducts him into the roving habit.

First, then, to be a “Reindeer Laplander,” he must be the owner of one hundred head of deer; fewer than that will be of no use. If he have only fifty, he must sell out, and betake himself to some settlement of Qüans or Norwegians, – there to give his service for hire, – or else turn Coast Laplander and fisherman, – a calling which he despises. This would be a sinking in the social scale; but, if he has been imprudent or unfortunate, and his flock has got reduced to fifty head, there is no help for it. If he have one hundred, however, he may manage with great economy to rub on; and keep up his character as a free Reindeer Lap. With three hundred he can live comfortably; better with five hundred; but a thousand would render him affluent. With fifteen hundred he would be a grandee; and two thousand would give him the rank of a millionaire! There are very few millionaires in Lapland, and not many grandees. Proprietors of even a thousand head are scarce; there are more whose herds number from three hundred to five hundred each.

And here, I may remark, that there is no government, – no tribal organisation. The owner of each herd is the head of a family; over them he is patriarch, but his power extends no further. It is not even great so far, if there chance to be grown-up unruly sons sharing the common tent.

I have used the word tent. That is the Reindeer Laplander’s home, – winter and summer alike. Notwithstanding the severity of his clime, he builds no house; and even his tent is of the very rudest kind known among tenting tribes. It consists of some birch saplings set up in the snow, bent towards each other, and then covered over with a piece of coarse cloth, – the wadmal. This he prefers to a covering of skins; and obtains it from the Norwegian or Russ trader in exchange for the latter. The tent, when standing, is only six feet high, and not much more in diameter. In this circumscribed space his whole family, wife, daughters, sons, often a retainer or two, and about a dozen dogs find shelter from the piercing blast, – seated, or lying beside, or on top of one another, higgledy-piggledy, any way they can. There is room found besides for a large iron or brass cooking-pot, some dishes and bowls of birch, a rude stone furnace, and a fire in the middle of the floor. Above the fire, a rack forms a shelf for countless tough cheeses, pieces of reindeers’ flesh, bowls of milk, bladders of deer’s blood, and a multiplicity of like objects.

The spring is just opening; the frost has thawed from the trees, – for the winter home is in the midst of a forest, – the ground is bare of snow, and already smiling with a carpet of green, enamelled by many brilliant flowers. It is time, therefore, for the Reindeer Laplander to decamp from the spot, and seek some other scene less inviting to the eye. You will naturally inquire why he does this? and perhaps you will express some surprise at a man showing so little judgment as to take leave of the fertile plain, – just now promising to yield him a rich pasture for his herds, – and transport his whole stock to the cold declivity of a bleak mountain? Yes, it is natural this should astonish you, – not, however, when you have heard the explanation.

Were he to stay in that plain – in that wood where he has wintered – a month longer, he would run the risk of losing half of his precious herd: perhaps in one season find himself reduced to the necessity of becoming a Coast Lap. The reason is simple, – the great gadfly (Aestrus tarandi), with numerous other tormentors, are about to spring forth from the morass; and, as soon as the hot sun has blown them into full strength and vitality, commence their work of desolation upon the deer. In a few short days or hours their eggs would be deposited in the skin, – even in the nostrils of the antlered creature, – there to germinate and produce disease and death. Indeed, the torment of biting gnats and other insects would of itself materially injure the health and condition of the animals; and if not driven to the mountains, they would “stampede,” and go there of their own accord. It becomes a necessity, then, for the Reindeer Lap to remove his habitation; and, having gathered a few necessary utensils, and packed them on his stoutest bucks, he is off to the mountains.

He does not take the whole of his penates along with him. That would be difficult, for the snow is now gone, and he cannot use his proper mode of travelling, – the sledge. This he leaves behind him; as well as all other implements and articles of household use, which he can do without in his summer quarters. The cooking-pot, and a few bowls and dishes, go along with him, – also the tent-cloth, and some skins for bedding. The smaller articles are deposited in panniers of wicker, which are slung over the backs of a number of pack-deer; and, if a balance be required, the infant Lap, in its little boat-like cradle, forms the adjusting medium.

The journey is often of immense length. There may be highlands near, but these are not to the Laplander’s liking. Nothing will satisfy him but the bold mountain range that overlooks the sea, trending along the whole Norwegian coast: only on the declivities of this, or on one of the thousand elevated rocky isles that guard this extensive seaboard, does the Laplander believe that his deer will enjoy proper health. He has a belief, moreover, that at least once every year, the reindeer should drink sea-water to keep them in condition. Certain it is, that on reaching the sea, these animals rush eagerly into the water, and drink the briny fluid; and yet ever after, during the same season, they refuse to taste it! It is the general opinion that the solitary draught thus taken has the effect of destroying such larvae, as may have already formed in their skins.

This journey often costs the Laplander great fatigue and trouble. It is not uncommon for him to go two hundred miles to the Norwegian coast; for although his habitual home may lie much nearer to the shores of the Bothnian gulf, it would not serve his purpose to take his flock there. The forest on that side grows to the water’s edge; and the gadfly is as abundant there, as in the wooded districts of the interior.

On reaching his destination, the Laplander chooses his grazing-ground, sometimes on the mountains of the mainland; but he prefers one of the elevated islets so numerous along the shore. This insures him against all danger from the flies, and also saves him much trouble in herding his deer. The islet may be two miles from the main, or any other land. That does not signify. The reindeer can swim like ducks, and the herd is soon driven over. The wadmal tent is then pitched; and the work of the summer begins. This consists in milking, cheese-making, and looking after the young deer; and a little fishing adds to the keep of the family: for it is at this time that foreign support is most required. The season of summer is with the mountain Lap his season of scarcity! He does not dream of killing his deer at this season, – that would be sheer waste, – nor does he drink their milk, only in very little quantity. It goes to the making of cheese, and the owner of the herd contents himself with the whey. Butter is not made at all by the Reindeer Lap, though the Qüans and Norwegians make some. The Lap would have no use for it, – since he eats no bread, – and it would not keep so well, nor yet be so safe an article of merchandise as the cheese. The latter he regards as his staple article of profit. He sells it to the coast-merchant: receiving in exchange his favourite dram-stuff, and a few pieces of coarse cloth, or utensils. The merchant is near at hand: for just for this very purpose are several small ports and settlements kept in existence along the otherwise desert shores of Norway. Deer-skins and dried fish, oils of the seal, furs and pelts of various kinds, have drawn these little settlements to the coast. Otherwise they would not be there.

When the heat of the summer is over, the reindeer Laplander commences his return to his winter abode, – back to the place whence he came. The gadflies are now gone, and he can drive his deer back with safety; and just as he travelled to the coast, he wends his way home again: for it is to be observed that he regards the winter residence as the real home, and the summer one only as a place of temporary sojourn. He does not look upon it, as we at such a season. To him it is no pleasant excursion: rather is it his period of toil and dearth, – his tightest time.

Once home again, he has nothing to do but erect his wadmal tent and look after his deer, – that now find food upon their favourite lichen. It is buried inches deep under the snow. They care not for that. They can soon uncover the pasture with their broad hoofs; and their keen scent never allows them to scrape up the snow without finding the lichen underneath. Upon it they thrive, and at this season are in the best condition for the knife.

The Laplander now also enjoys life. If rich, he has fresh venison every day; but even if only moderately well off, he “kills” two or three times a week. His mode of slaughtering is original. He sticks his long, knife-blade into the throat of the animal, leaving it there till the creature is dead! This precaution he takes to prevent waste. Were he to pull out the blade, the blood would flow and be lost. The knife acts as a stopper to the wound it has made. The blood is preserved and carefully put away, – the bladder being used as the vessel to contain it.

You must not imagine that the Reindeer Lap remains all the winter in one place; on the contrary, he moves repeatedly, always taking his tent and tent-utensils along with him. The tent is as easily set up as taken down. The ground in all sheltered places is, at this season, covered with snow. It is only necessary to shovel it off, clearing a circular space about the size of the ground-plan of the tent. The snow, thus removed, produces a sort of elevated ring or snow-dyke all round the bare spot; and into this the tent-poles are hammered. They are then bent inward, tied near the tops, and the wadmal being laid on as before, the tent is ready for use.

Fresh branches of evergreen pines, and other trees, are strewed over the floor; and on top of these are laid the deer-skins that serve for beds, chairs, tables, and blankets. These, with the iron cooking-pot, a large iron or brass pail to hold melted snow-water for drinking, and a few other utensils, are the only furniture of the dwelling. I have already stated that the fire is built in the centre of the tent, – on some large stones, forming a rudely-constructed hearth. A hole in the roof is intended for a chimney; but its draught is so bad, that the tent is almost always filled with a cloud of bitter smoke, – so thick as to render objects invisible. In this atmosphere no other European, excepting a Lap, could possibly exist; and travellers, passing through the Lapland country, have often preferred braving the cold frost of the night air, to being half smothered by the smoke; and have consequently taken shelter under a neighbouring tree. The Laplander himself feels but little inconvenienced by the very thickest smoke.

Habit is everything, and to this habit has he been used from his infancy. His eyes, however, are not so indifferent to the annoyance. These suffer from it; and the consequence is that the eyes of the Laplanders are almost universally sore and watery. This is a notable characteristic of the race. Smoke, however, is not the sole cause of it. The Esquimaux equally suffer from sore eyes; and these, burning oil in their houses instead of wood, are seldom troubled with smoke. More likely it is the snow-glare to which the Laplander, as well as the Esquimaux, is much exposed, that brings about this copious watering of the eyes.

The Laplander cooks the reindeer flesh by boiling. A large piece is put into the great family pot, and nothing added but a quantity of water. In this the meat boils and simmers till it is done tender. The oily fat is then skimmed off, and put into a separate vessel; and the meat is “dished” in a large tray or bowl of birch-bark.

A piece is then cut off, for each individual of the family; and handed around the circle. It is eaten without bread, and even salt is dispensed with. A dip in the bowl of skim-fat is all the seasoning it gets; and it is washed down with the “liquor” in which it has been boiled, and which is nothing but greasy water, without vegetables or any other “lining.” It has the flavour of the fat venison, however; and is by no means ill-tasted. The angelica flourishes in the country of the Laplander, and of this vegetable he makes occasional use, not eating the roots, but the stalks and leaves, usually raw and without any preparation. Perhaps he is led to use it, by a knowledge of the antiscorbutic properties of the plant.

Several species of berry-producing bushes also furnish him with an occasional meal of fruit. There are wild currants, the cranberry, whortle, and bilberries. The fruits of these trees do not fall in the autumn, as with us; but remain all winter upon the branches. Buried under the snow, they are preserved in perfect condition, until the thaw of the following spring once more brings them into view. At this time they are sweet and mellow; and are gathered in large quantities by the Lap women. Sometimes they are eaten, as they come from the tree; but it is more usual to make them into a “plum-pudding:” that is, they are mixed with a kind of curdled milk, and stored away in bladders. When wanted, a slice is cut from the mass, – including a piece of the bladder, within which they have now attained to the stiffness and consistence of a “cream-cheese.”

Another great luxury of the Laplander, is the reindeer’s milk frozen into an “ice.” This is easily obtained; and the process consists simply in filling a birchen bowl with milk, and exposing it to the open air during frost. It is soon converted into solid ice; and in this condition will keep perfectly sweet throughout the whole of the winter. As the reindeer are never milked in the depth of the winter season, the Laplander takes care, before that period approaches, to lay in a stock of ice-milk: so that he may have a drink of it at all times, by simply setting one of his birchen bowls within reach of the fire. He even makes a merchandise of this article: for the frozen reindeer milk is highly prized by the foreign merchants; who are ready, at any time, to exchange for the delicious article a dram of their devilish fire-water.

It is at this season that the Laplander moves about, both on foot and in his sledge. He not only travels from place to place, in a circuit of twenty miles, – round the little solitary church which the Swedish missionary has built for him, – but he makes an occasional journey to the distant coast.

In his sledge, or even afoot, a hundred miles are to him as nothing: for the frozen snow enables him to perform such a distance in an incredibly short time. On his “skis,” or snow-skates he could do a hundred miles in a couple of days; even though the paths led him over hills, mountains, lakes, and rivers. All are now alike, – all concealed under the common covering of a deep snow. The lakes and rivers are frozen and bridged for him; and the mountain declivities are rendered smooth and easily traversed, – either by the sledge or the “skis.” With the former he would think little of a hundred miles in a single day; and if the occasion were a “killing” one, and relays could be had upon the route, twice that enormous distance he could easily accomplish.

The mode of sleigh-travelling by the Reindeer Laplander, as also his snow-skimming, or skating, have been both often and elaborately described. I have only space here to present the more salient points of the picture.

This sleigh or sledge is termed by him “pulka;” but he has three varieties of this article, – two for travelling, and the third for carrying luggage. The two first kinds are nearly alike; and, in fact, differ only in a little extra “furniture,” which one of them has upon it, – that is, a covering over the top, to keep more comfortable the feet and legs of the traveller. In other respects it is only the common pulk, being similar to the latter in shape, size, atelage, and everything.

To get an idea of the Laplander’s sledge, you must fancy a little boat, about six feet long, and sixteen inches in breadth of beam. This is the width at the stern, where it is broadest; but from the stern it narrows all the way forward, until, on reaching the stem, it has tapered almost to a point. Its sides are exactly like those of a boat; and it rests upon a “keel” of about four inches breadth, which keel is the one and only “runner.” A strong board boxes up the stern end, in front of which is the seat; and the board itself serves to support the back of the rider. His legs and feet are stretched out longitudinally; filling up the space between the quarter-deck and the “forward” part of the little craft; and, thus fixed, the Laplander is ready for the road.

In the best class of “pulk” – that used by the Russ and Swedish traders and travellers – the forward part is covered with a sort of half-deck of skins or leather; but the Laplander does not often fancy this. It gives him too much trouble to get out and in; as he is often compelled to do to look after his train of deer. His pulk, therefore, is open from stem to stern; and his deer-skin coverings keep his legs warm enough.

Only one deer is used; and the mode of harnessing is of primitive simplicity. A band of skin acts as a collar round the neck of the animal; and from the lowest point of this a piece falls downwards below the animal’s breast, – striking in on the counter like the pendants of a martingale. To this piece is attached the trace, – there is but one, – which, passing between the forelegs, and afterwards the hind ones, is looped into an iron ring upon the stem of the sledge. Upon this trace, which is a strong strap of raw hide or leather, the whole draught-power is exerted. A broad surcingle – usually of cloth, neatly stitched and ornamented – passes round the deer’s body. Its use is to hold up the trace underneath the belly, and prevent it from dragging the ground, or getting among the animal’s feet. A similar band of cloth passes round its neck, giving a fine appearance to the noble creature. A single rein attached to the left horn, or fixed halter-fashion around the deer’s head, is all that is necessary to guide it along; the movements of this, aided by the accents of its master’s voice, are understood by this well-trained animal.

For all that, the deer does not always travel kindly. Frequently he takes a fit of obstinacy or anger; and will then turn upon his trainer, – presenting his antlered front in an attitude of attack. On such occasions the Lap takes shelter behind his “pulk,” raising it in his arms, and holding it as a shield wherewith to defend himself; until he can pacify, or otherwise subdue, the irritated buck.

The tumbling of the sledge, and consequent spilling of its load, is a thing of frequent occurrence, owing to the narrow base upon which the vehicle is supported; but the Laplander thinks nothing of a trifling mishap of this nature. In a trice the “snow-boat” is righted, the voyager in his seat again, and off over the frozen snow with the speed of lightning.

The reindeer can travel nearly twenty English miles an hour! This rate of speed has been proved and tested; and with fresh relays along the route, over four hundred miles might be made in a day. But the same thing could be done with horses, – that is, upon a desperate emergency.

The luggage “pulk” of the Laplander differs only from the other kinds of sledges in being longer, broader, deeper, and consequently of more capacity to carry goods. It is used for transporting the skins, and other merchantable commodities, from the interior to the trading depots on the coast.

The skis or snow-skates require very little description. They are on the same principle as the snow-shoes in use among the North-American Indians; though from these they differ materially in construction. They are merely two long pieces of smooth board, a few inches in breadth, and slightly turned up at the ends. One is full six feet, – the right one; the left is about twelve inches shorter. Near the middle they are lashed firmly to the feet by strong pieces of hide; and by means of these curious appendages, when the snow is crusted over, the Laplander can skim over its surface with great rapidity. He uses a long pole to guide and assist him in his movements; and this pole has a piece of circular board, or a round ball, near its point, – to prevent it from sinking too deeply in the snow. Going up hill upon the skis is not so easy, – but the practised skater can ascend even the steep acclivities of the mountains with less difficulty than might be imagined. This is accomplished in zigzag lines, – each leading to a higher elevation. Down hill, the course upon skis is rapid almost as the flight of an arrow; and, by means of the long pole, rocks, ravines, and precipices, are shunned with a dexterity that is quite surprising. Altogether a Laplander, either in his reindeer sledge, or upon his long wooden “skis,” is as interesting a sight as may be seen anywhere.

After all that has been said, it will appear pretty clearly, that the Laplander, though dwelling so very near to civilised lands, is still very far distant from true civilisation.

Chapter Sixteen.

The Andamaners, or Mud-Bedaubers

On the eastern side of the Bay of Bengal lies a cluster, or archipelago, of islands known as the “Andamans.” They form a long string running nearly northward and southward; and with the Nicobar group, still further to the south, they appear like a series of stepping-stones connecting Cape Negrais, in the Burmese country, with the island of Sumatra. Independent of the Nicobar Islands, the Andamans themselves have an extent of several hundred miles in length; while their breadth is nowhere over about twenty miles. Until of late the greater portion of the group was supposed to form only one island, – known as the “Great Andaman;” but, in the year 1792, this was discovered to have a channel across it that divided it into two distinct parts.

The discovery of this channel was accidental; and the accident was attended with melancholy consequences. A vessel from Madras had entered between the Great Andaman, and the opposite coast of Burmah. This vessel was laden with provisions, intended for the supply of Port Cornwallis, – a convict settlement, which the British had formed the preceding year on the eastern side of the island. The master of the vessel, not knowing the position of Port Cornwallis, sent a boat to explore an opening which he saw in the land, – fancying that it might be the entrance to the harbour. It was not this, however; but the mouth of the channel above mentioned. The crew of the boat consisted of two Europeans and six Lascars. It was late in the afternoon when they stood into the entrance; and, as it soon fell dark upon them, they lost their way, and found themselves carried along by a rapid current that set towards the Bay of Bengal. The north-east monsoon was blowing at the time with great violence; and this, together with the rapid current, soon carried the boat through the channel; and, in spite of their efforts, they were driven out into the Indian Ocean, far beyond sight of land! Here for eighteen days the unfortunate crew were buffeted about; until they were picked up by a French ship, almost under the equinoctial line, many hundreds of miles from the channel they had thus involuntarily discovered! The sad part of the story remains to be told. When relieved by the French vessel, the two Europeans and three of the Lascars were still living; the other three Lascars had disappeared. Shocking to relate, they had been killed and eaten by their companions!

The convict settlement above mentioned was carried on only for a few years, and then abandoned, – in consequence of the unhealthiness of the climate, by which the Sepoy guards of the establishment perished in great numbers.