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along by one of the men. It is a continuous
struggle between man and deer, the man having
gravitation on his side, as the deer struggles to
ascend the slope. A number of dogs are also
occupied in keeping the herd together and driving
them onward.
In spite of all the efforts of men and dogs,
several deserted the herd, and bounded back
towards the fjelde. At last the majority of them
was brought down and driven into a square
enclosure rudely made of tall palings.
We enter also, and stand in the midst of them.
They are about a hundred and twenty in number,
all galloping about very wildly, but quite harmless,
avoiding us very carefully, though much crowded.
Otherwise their horns might have been unpleasant
with such rapid movements in close quarters.
Their voices are quite unromantic, exactly like
the commonplace grunt of a vulgar pig, and they
grunt in unison as they gallop round the enclosure.
Scheffer’s translation of the love-song of the
Lapp poet, beginning with
“Kulnasatz my Rain deer
We have a long journey to go;
The moors are vast,
And we must hast,
Our strength I fear
Will fail if we are slow,
And so
Our songs will do,”
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