A workman and a young girl, between thirteen and fourteen, stepped from the boat.  The girl was Osa.  The Lapp dogs bounded down to them, barking loudly, and a native poked his head out of the tent opening to see what was going on.

He was glad when he saw the workman, for he was a friend of the Laplanders—­a kindly and sociable man, who could speak their native tongue.  The Lapp called to him to crawl under the tent.

“You’re just in time, Soederberg!” he said.  “The coffee pot is on the fire.  No one can do any work in this rain, so come in and tell us the news.”

The workman went in, and, with much ado and amid a great deal of laughter and joking, places were made for Soederberg and Osa, though the tent was already crowded to the limit with natives.  Osa understood none of the conversation.  She sat dumb and looked in wonderment at the kettle and coffee pot; at the fire and smoke; at the Lapp men and Lapp women; at the children and dogs; the walls and floor; the coffee cups and tobacco pipes; the multi-coloured costumes and crude implements.  All this was new to her.

Suddenly she lowered her glance, conscious that every one in the tent was looking at her.  Soederberg must have said something about her, for now both Lapp men and Lapp women took the short pipes from their mouths and stared at her in open-eyed wonder and awe.  The Laplander at her side patted her shoulder and nodded, saying in Swedish, “bra, bra!” (good, good!) A Lapp woman filled a cup to the brim with coffee and passed it under difficulties, while a Lapp boy, who was about her own age, wriggled and crawled between the squatters over to her.

Osa felt that Soederberg was telling the Laplanders that she had just buried her little brother, Mats.  She wished he would find out about her father instead.

The elf had said that he lived with the Lapps, who camped west of Lake Luossajaure, and she had begged leave to ride up on a sand truck to seek him, as no regular passenger trains came so far.  Both labourers and foremen had assisted her as best they could.  An engineer had sent Soederberg across the lake with her, as he spoke Lappish.  She had hoped to meet her father as soon as she arrived.  Her glance wandered anxiously from face to face, but she saw only natives.  Her father was not there.

She noticed that the Lapps and the Swede, Soederberg, grew more and more earnest as they talked among themselves.  The Lapps shook their heads and tapped their foreheads, as if they were speaking of some one that was not quite right in his mind.

She became so uneasy that she could no longer endure the suspense and asked Soederberg what the Laplanders knew of her father.

“They say he has gone fishing,” said the workman.  “They’re not sure that he can get back to the camp to-night; but as soon as the weather clears, one of them will go in search of him.”

Thereupon he turned to the Lapps and went on talking to them.  He did not wish to give Osa an opportunity to question him further about Jon Esserson.