but not a sound did she make. Evidently Lapp babies were not expected to
cry.

The coffee was soon ready, and was poured into cups for the guests, while
Erik and his brother and sisters drank theirs in turn from a big bowl.

Lieutenant Ekman talked with Erik's father, who, like many of the Lapps,
could speak Swedish; but the children were all silent, and the dogs lay
still in their corner, their gleaming eyes watching every motion of the
strangers.

When Gerda had finished drinking the coffee, which was very good, she
took two small packages from her pocket and put them into her father's
hand. "They are for Erik's family," she whispered. "Birger and I bought
them in Gellivare."

"Don't you think it would be better for you to give them out yourself?"
he asked; but Gerda shook her head as if she had suddenly become dumb,
and so Lieutenant Ekman distributed the gifts.

There was a string of shells for the youngest child; a silver ring, a
beaded belt, a knife and a cheap watch for the older children; a box of
matches and some tobacco for the father, and some needles and bright
colored thread for the mother.

"We should like to give you something in return," said Erik's father;
"but we have nothing in the world except our reindeer. If we should give
you one of them you might have some trouble in taking it home," and he
laughed loudly at the idea.