of the woods, while from the tree-tops could be heard the call of a
cuckoo and the harsh cry of a woodpecker.

Soon they were on their way again, pushing deeper and deeper through the
Lapland forest; their road bordered with green ferns and bright
blossoming flowers, their path crossed now and again by fluttering
butterflies.

"This is just the right kind of a carriage for such a road, isn't it?"
said Gerda, as the track led through a shallow brooklet.

"Yes," answered her father; "a few of the roads in these northern forests
are excellent; but many of them are only trails, and are rough and rocky.
If the cart were not so light, with only one seat and two wheels, we
should often get a severe shaking-up."

"How does it happen that we can get such a good horse and cart up here
among the forests?" asked Gerda.

"As there is no railroad in this part of Lapland, the Swedish government
very thoughtfully arranges for the posting-stations, and guarantees the
pay of the keepers for providing travellers with fresh horses," her
father explained. "The stations are from one to two Swedish miles apart,
and everyone who hires a horse is expected to take good care of him."

"I'm afraid we shall have to make this horse go faster, or we shall be
caught in a thunder-storm," said Gerda, looking up through the trees at
the sky, which was growing dark with clouds.

"You are right," answered her father; and at the same moment Erik looked