upon which they fell; but the traveller was hopelessly entangled in the furs in which he had been enveloped, and the sledge falling partly upon him, utterly prevented him from rising. Ivan lay half under one of the black horses; but happily for him, the animal was stunned for a time, and did not kick. The wolf had lost his hold in the fall, but being perhaps more used to such rough work than any of his foes, was the first to recover himself, and at once flew upon his victim. Meanwhile, that terrible shriek of the horses had reached the ears of two more of these wild tenants of the wood, who at this moment came bounding on, and one of them neglecting even the prostrate horses, sprang, with glaring eyes and a savage howl, straight towards the traveller. Helpless as he lay, his doom appeared to be sealed. But at that moment the figure of a man, strangely diminutive in stature, appeared on the summit of the bank: the next moment, as though the wild wind had swept him over the edge of it, down he came, alighting close to the group. A stroke from a small keen axe, that he had carried in his girdle, instantly laid one wolf dead at his feet, and the traveller was saved; and then, as though he had taken in the whole state of things at a glance, the little stranger went to work at once. A few more vigorous and well-aimed blows of that little axe demolished the beauty of the sledge, and set the traveller free; and no sooner had the latter regained his feet than a couple of sharp reports from the pistols that he carried in his breast rang through the wood, and the two remaining wolves lay stretched upon the snow. He strode first with anxious solicitude to Ivan, and having assured himself that the old man was uninjured, he turned again hastily to the new-comer whose timely aid had saved him from such peril. Laying one hand upon his shoulder, he in short but expressive words acknowledged the debt of gratitude he owed to him. It was, in truth, a striking picture. The storm was now abating, and the moon at times

cast a fitful light on the strange, wild, snowy landscape. There, where perhaps the foot of man never before trod, stood the traveller-tall, far beyond the ordinary height of men, and one plainly nursed in the lap of luxury, and accustomed to all that gilds and civilizes social life-strangely contrasting with the little Laplander (for such he was), whose stature, scarcely four feet high, and whose rough, homely, and even uncouth garments of undressed skins, bespoke a race almost the lowest amongst those which can lay claim to any degree of civilization. The Laplander's countenance, though frank and kindly, told little of high intellect, and his whole manner betokened almost childish simplicity. The features of the stranger, on the other hand, were cast in Nature's noblest mould, and their habitual sternness gave way to a smile of marvellous benignity, and his large, full blue eye lighted up with a singularly winning expression as he turned to thank their deliverer for this most timely

rescue.

"I owe you my life, my little friend," said he ; "and be assured I am not one whom you will find ungrateful."

The little Laplander hardly seemed to understand the warmth with which the stranger thanked him. Accustomed to the perils and hardships of a life in the woods, he thought but little of such an adventure as that which had just occurred; and indeed it was not the first time by many that he had saved another, or had been himself rescued, from the dreary snow-drift or the howling wolf. His simple code of Christian love looked for no reward on earth for help given to a fellow-creature in the time of need.

"I think," said he, bluntly, ". Iwe had better seek my hut before we have the whole pack of these hungry rascals upon us. You can rest there whilst your driver makes his way to the next station ('tis but a league or so from here), and fetches another sledge to take you on your journey."

"Kight, right!" said the stranger; "mount, Ivan, at once; do as our little friend suggests, and return with all speed. I suppose," he added, turning to the Laplander, "your hut is not far distant."

"Tis hard by, on the rising ground at the edge of the wood; your driver will see it to the right, as he passes out into the open."

"Quick, then, good Ivan; I will await you at the hut."

The old driver who had been in the meantime busily engaged with the fallen steeds, obeyed in mournful silence. He had found, to his great grief, that the bright bay was quite dead, and one of the blacks so sorely injured by the fall that it was doubtful whether his long and glossy mane would ever again stream in amongst the jingling sleigh-bells. Mounting the remaining horse, Ivan regained the road, and in a few moments was out of sight, whilst the Laplander and his guest turned their steps towards the hut.

Gently, gently, my good friend," said the tall stranger, as he stumbled over the hidden stumps, or plunged thigh deep into a drift; "you forget that I am not used to Lapland forests, like yourself, my good -ha! I forgot to ask your name."

"My name is Duvno," replied the other, slackening his pace. "My wife is called Tochana."

"Heyday! a wife too!"

"Ay, that I have, and truly a helpmeet for me, besides two little ones-as sweet and fair young babes as your honour shall meet anywhere in North Russia."

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'Well," rejoined the stranger, "I am not a little surprised to meet with one of your race so far south as this; I should have thought that it would need some two or three days' journey yet towards the Pole to bring me to a Lapp camp."

"'Tis like enough," answered Duvno; “we live not amongst our own race. Strange and terrible events drove us from among them, when, a few years

since, we sought shelter here, within the borders of North Russia."

"Truly," said the stranger, "I could not have expected to find so much gentleness and refinement in a Laplander; but I suppose you have gained it amongst your more civilized neighbours?"

"We have no neighbours," replied the little man ; "indeed we have no friends, save one or two at Petropol, some twenty leagues from here, whither we go once a year, at Easter."

As the Laplander spoke these words, they emerged from the wood, and a few yards to the right of them the hut appeared in sight. The thing it most resembled was a huge extinguisher, some twenty feet high, and about sixteen or eighteen feet across at the base. It was formed of upright poles, stuck into the ground in a circle, with their tops bent inwards, and fastened loosely together, so as to leave an opening for the passage of the smoke from the blazing fire within, made on a huge round stone in the centre of the hut. Over the poles was laid a loose thatching of fir branches and the dry mosses of the country, whilst in front the stranger perceived an aperture intended for a doorway, through which even Duvno could not pass without stooping. The latter paused for a moment, and then moving a little to one side, he pointed to the door, and bade the stranger enter and be welcome.

"Nay," said his guest, "I would gladly see first how that operation is performed; besides, my bulky form might well alarm the little folks within. Do thou go first, and I will follow, if indeed the thing be possible."

Duvno was much too rude and unpolished to be guilty of the politeness of wasting five minutes in insisting that his guest should go first; he stooped and entered, and the stranger, almost going on his hands and knees, contrived somehow to follow him.

The interior of the hut exhibited a strange mixture of comfort combined with the most primitive rude

ness.

Save and except a little wooden cradle about a foot long, of which we shall have to speak more anon, it boasted not of a single chair, table, bedstead, or any other article of furniture. But then the tent-like sides were lined or hung with the skins of the grey wolf and the white fox, not unpicturesquely arranged; and extending nearly round the floor was a low bank of earth covered with dried moss, which served as a kind of shelf, on which were disposed, with much order and neatness, fishing and hunting implements, articles of clothing, cooking utensils, pots of the reindeer's milk, and some stores of simple food, each evidently occupying its own allotted space. At the further end was a heap of moss and pine branches, covered with some skins of a better sort, evidently the couch of the little inmates of the hut; and in the centre of the floor a huge fire of pine logs and dried branches sent up its forked and crackling flames, casting a cheery light on all around. Near to it, kneeling on the ground, was a little woman (it could be none other than Tochana), busily engaged in consigning to its nightly rest the diminutive infant whom she had just swaddled in a wrapper of the softest marten, and then crammed into the tiny little boat or cradle roughly hollowed out of a pine log. She then tied it in quite safely with a bandage of a yard or two of untanned leather, leaving nothing but the tiny doll-like sleeping face exposed, and having done this, she stowed it away on the earthen bench in its proper place, like any other article of the household goods and chattels. She then turned towards the new-comers, and just the slightest shade of surprise might have been traced upon her plump and good-humoured, but to say the truth, not very intellectual little features, when she beheld the tall stranger, whose stately frame, within the narrow limits of the Laplander's abode, and side by side with such diminutive companions, seemed to assume a more than usually gigantic height.

"Tochana," said the husband, "I have brought with