lace, where her playfellow is. I have no doubt you heard what she was
telling me, for she spoke loud enough, and you are generally
eavesdropping!'

The reindeer jumped into the air for joy. The robber girl lifted little
Gerda up, and had the forethought to tie her on, nay, even to give her a
little cushion to sit upon. 'Here, after all, I will give you your fur
boots back, for it will be very cold, but I will keep your muff, it is
too pretty to part with. Still you shan't be cold. Here are my mother's
big mittens for you, they will reach up to your elbows; here, stick your
hands in! Now your hands look just like my nasty mother's!'

Gerda shed tears of joy.

'I don't like you to whimper!' said the little robber girl. 'You ought
to be looking delighted; and here are two loaves and a ham for you, so
that you shan't starve.'

These things were tied on to the back of the reindeer; the little robber
girl opened the door, called in all the big dogs, and then she cut the
halter with her knife, and said to the reindeer, 'Now run, but take care
of my little girl!'

Gerda stretched out her hands in the big mittens to the robber girl and
said good-bye; and then the reindeer darted off over briars and bushes,
through the big wood, over swamps and plains, as fast as it could go.
The wolves howled and the ravens screamed, while the red lights quivered
up in the sky.

'There are my old northern lights,' said the reindeer; 'see how they
flash!' and on it rushed faster than ever, day and night. The loaves
were eaten, and the ham too, and then they were in Lapland.

SIXTH STORY

THE LAPP WOMAN AND THE FINN WOMAN

[Illustration: _The reindeer did not dare to stop. It ran on till it
came to the bush with the red berries. There it put Gerda down, and
kissed her on the mouth, while big shining tears trickled down its
face._]

They stopped by a little hut, a very poverty-stricken one; the roof
sloped right down to the ground, and the door was so low that the people
had to creep on hands and knees when they wanted to go in or out. There
was nobody at home here but an old Lapp woman, who was frying fish over
a train-oil lamp. The reindeer told her all Gerda's story, but it told
its own first; for it thought it was much the most important. Gerda was
so overcome by the cold that she could not speak at all.

'Oh, you poor creatures!' said the Lapp woman; 'you've got a long way
to go yet; you will have to go hundreds of miles into F