he mercury again froze at 47 deg. below zero.
Nevertheless, we went out after breakfast to call upon Dr. Wretholm, and
walk over the Tornea.

The old Doctor was overjoyed to see us again. "Ah!" said he, "it is a
good fortune that you have got back alive. When the weather was so cold,
I thought of you, travelling over the Norwegian _fjeller_, and thought
you must certainly be frozen to death." His wife was no less cordial in
her welcome. They brought us ale and Swedish punch, with reindeer cheese
for our frozen noses, and insisted on having their horse put into the
sled to take us over to Tornea and bring us back to dinner. The doctor's
boy drove us, facing the wind with our faces exposed, at -42 deg., but one
night's rest and good food enabled us to bear it without inconvenience.
Tornea is a plain Swedish town, more compactly built than Haparanda, yet
scarcely larger. The old church is rather picturesque, and there were
some tolerable houses, which appeared to be government buildings, but
the only things particularly Russian which we noticed were a Cossack
sentry, whose purple face showed that he was nearly frozen, and a
guide-post with "150 versts to Uleaborg" upon it. On returning to the
Doctor's we found a meal ready, with a capital salad of frozen salmon,
_bouillon_, ale, and coffee. The family were reading the Swedish
translation of "Dred" in the _Aftonblad_, and were interested in hearing
some account of Mrs. Beecher Stowe. We had a most agreeable and
interesting visit to these kind, simple-hearted people.

I made a sunset sketch of Tornea. I proposed also to draw Fredrika, but
she at once refused, in great alarm. "Not for anything in the world,"
said she, "would I have it done!" What superstitious fears possessed her
I could not discover. We made arrangements to start for Kalix the next
day, on our way to Stockholm. The extreme temperature still continued.
The air was hazy with the frozen moisture--the smoke froze in solid
masses--the snow was brittle and hard as metal--iron stuck like glue--in
short, none of the signs of an Arctic winter were wanting. Nevertheless,
we trusted to the day's rest and fatter fare on the road for strength to
continue the battle.

CHAPTER XV.

INCIDENTS OF THE RETURN JOURNEY.

We left Haparanda on the 30th of January. After six days of true Arctic
weather--severer than any registered by De Haven's expedition, during a
winter in the polar ice--the temperature rose suddenly