The forest of magnificent firs through which the road passed presently grew less somber, beginning to be streaked with white birches whose bright leaves twinkled in the sun.  Then it reached the height at which evergreens cease to grow.  The birches were shorter and sparser, and through the thinning woodland appeared glimpses of a treeless pasture dotted with scrubby low bushes and clumps of rushes.  A glint of clear green water betrayed a small lake in a dip of the hills.  And now were heard sounds most unusual in that lonely place, the high sweet voices of children.

Birch trees, little trees, dwarfed by sharp winds and poor soil, encircled a level space perhaps ten feet across, carpeted with new soft grass, reindeer moss and cupped lichens.  Here sat seven or eight children eagerly listening to a story told by an older child as she divided the ration of fladbrod,[3] wild strawberries from a small basket of birchbark, and brown goat’s-milk cheese.

“And Freya came from Asgard in her chariot drawn by two cats—­”

Nikolina the daughter of Sven Larsson of the Trolle farm was known through all the valley, not only as the sole child of its richest farmer, but for the bright blonde hair that covered her shoulders with its soft abundance and hung to her waist.  Her father would not have it cut or braided or even covered save by such a little embroidered cap as she wore now.  Her scarlet bodice, and blue-black skirt bordered with bright woven bands, were of the finest wool; the full-sleeved white linen under-dress had been spun and woven and embroidered by skilful and loving fingers.  Nikolina had lost the roof from over her head, and a great deal more than that.  Now she was giving her whole mind to the little ones of all ages from four to eight, crowding close about her.

[Illustration:  “’And Freya came from Asgard in her chariot drawn by two cats’”—­Page 4]

“Hi!” called Nils, “where is Mother Elle?  See what Thorolf and I have got!”

The children scrambled to their feet and gazed with round eyes, their small hungry teeth munching their morsels of hard bread.  Nikolina plucked a bunch of grass for Snow, the foremost cow, and patted her as she ate it.

“The little ones were so tired and hungry,” she said, “that Mother Elle said they might have their supper now, while she and Olof and Anders went on to the saeter.  This is wonderful!  She was saying only this morning that she feared all the cattle were dead or stolen.”

Within an hour they came in sight of the log huts with turf-covered roofs that sloped almost to the ground in the rear.  A broad plain stretched away beyond, and the new grass was of that vivid green to be found in places which deep snow makes pure.  Hills enclosed it, and beyond, a gleaming network of lake and stream ended in range above range of blue and silver peaks.  The clear invigorating air was like some unearthly wine.  The cows at the scent