The Reindeer Girl

by Holly Webb

  She shook her head in confusion. She felt like she was two people at once. The Lotta who should really be here, who knew all these people rushing around her and obviously loved Growler. And the other Lotta, who had no idea what was going on and was just fumbling her way through the story, trying not to let everyone see that she shouldn’t really be there.

  Growler nudged her lovingly, and she leaned against his warm side for a moment with a soft sigh. He didn’t seem to think that she was the wrong Lotta.

  What was she doing here? Lotta wondered. She had never had a dream like this before. One that was so real, and full of things she was sure she didn’t know enough about to dream. The amazing clothes that everyone was wearing. The thick blue cloth tunics – Oldeforeldre had said they were called gákti, and that the heavy fur jacket was a beaska.

  Lotta blinked, realizing that she must be speaking the same language as everyone else, as well. It was as if she had just slipped back in time to the world her great-grandmother had described. Oldeforeldre had shown her photographs and told her stories, but Lotta hadn’t really been able to imagine what her great-grandmother’s Sami life was like.

  And yet here, in this dream, somehow she could see it all so clearly.

  So perhaps it wasn’t a dream after all? Perhaps it was something more…

  Lotta stood watching as the reindeer herd set off. Her father’s dog, a beautiful creature with a golden-orange coat, leaped down off the sledge where he’d been sitting and began to howl. Pappa was telling him to, Lotta could see now. He must have been trained to howl on command, to keep the reindeer bunched together. It made sense. If they straggled out in a long line, it would be harder to make sure they were all keeping up. There were other dogs hurrying round the herd, too – each of her uncles and cousins seemed to have their own herding dog.

  She could hardly see the herd now. The final few reindeer were vanishing over the rise in the snowy ground, and one of her uncles was turning back to wave one last time, before following on his skis. All that was left was the churned-up snow, marked by hundreds of hoofprints and the sledge runners.

  “Come on, Lotta. Let’s go and check on that little calf.” Erika grabbed her hand and pulled her away. “Aunt Inge, we’re going to see the new baby reindeer!” she called to Lotta’s mamma.

  Lotta followed Erika past the lavvus to a quiet space among the scrubby trees where a reindeer was grazing, digging through the snow with her front hoof and looking for lichen. She kept glancing around restlessly, but when the two girls came close, she backed away, towards a small brown bundle curled up in the snow.

  “Isn’t he tiny?” Lotta whispered. The calf was so small and soft-looking, its fur a golden brown, darker round his nose and his eyes, almost as though he was wearing sunglasses. She longed to stroke him, or pick him up, but she didn’t think his mother would like it.

  “Well, he is only a couple of days old,” Erika pointed out. “I wonder why he came so early. It’s nice to see one so young – because we stay here and the mothers go off to the calving grounds, we hardly ever see such a baby.”

  “I don’t think she wants us to go near him,” Lotta said anxiously. The mother reindeer was eyeing them, as though she wasn’t sure who to trust. “It must be strange for her, being left behind when all the others have gone to the calving grounds. She probably doesn’t understand what’s happening.”

  “I’ve got some grain for her. If we give her some food, she might let us get closer to the calf.” Erika dug into her coat pocket and the reindeer snuffled eagerly, stepping towards the girls.

  “She’s really hungry.” Lotta peered round the reindeer to look at the calf, and he looked back at her shyly, his eyes huge and dark.

  Erika laughed as the mother reindeer gobbled eagerly at the grain, and then snuffled against her affectionately. “Do you like us now, hmmm?”

  The reindeer calf struggled up on to his long, fragile-looking legs and stumbled over to his mother. He tried to suckle, nuzzling at the fur underneath her, and she peered down at him worriedly.

  “Pappa said he wasn’t suckling very well,” Lotta remembered. “Maybe she isn’t making enough milk for him.”

  Erika nodded. “Well, she should be in the calving grounds, shouldn’t she, where the food’s better.”

  The part of the forest they were in now was quite open, without too many trees, and that meant the snow was thick and heavily frozen. Lotta frowned, trying to remember what Oldeforeldre had told her about the reindeer migration. In a week or so, the rest of the herd would follow the mother reindeer to the calving grounds, where the snow would be melting and the grasses showing through. Then, a little later, when all the calves were big enough to make the journey, the two herds would go on together to the summer pastures.

  “There isn’t a lot of grain to spare for feeding her,” Erika murmured. “We have to trade for it, with reindeer hides and dried meat. Grain’s expensive.” She chewed her lip and dug at the snow with her boot. “She really ought to be feeding herself, but the ice crust over the snow’s so hard here. It’s taking her ages to dig through it to find the lichen to eat.”

  Lotta picked up a piece of branch and dug under the snow. It was frozen solid, and she had to work at it. But the reindeer sniffed interestedly as Lotta scraped back the snow, revealing the lichen on the ground. She took a couple of steps forward and began to nibble at it gratefully. Her calf stumbled after her and went on trying to suckle.

  “Maybe we could keep helping her dig?” Lotta suggested to Erika, rather uncertainly. Perhaps it was something they weren’t supposed to do. She didn’t know, after all.

  But Erika nodded. “Uncle Peter did say to look after her. That must be the best way to help her, I think.” She fetched another branch, and began to scratch in the deep snow. “Ah, look, here you are! A big clump!”

  The reindeer pushed Erika out of the way eagerly as she smelled the feathery, greyish-green lichen clump buried in the snow, and both girls giggled.

  “We should name them,” Lotta said, as she went on digging. “Her and the calf.”

  Erika looked rather surprised. “I suppose we could. What shall we call her?” She grinned. “Pushy? Greedyguts?”

  “No! Something nice.” Lotta looked thoughtfully at the reindeer, trying to think of a good name. She still had her antlers, and her coat was beautifully thick. The reindeer stared sideways at Lotta, watching her with one dark eye while she munched on the lichen.

  “She’s got a mark on her side, here, look.” Lotta pointed to a darker patch of fur. “It’s almost like a flower. If we call her Flower, then we’ll remember, and we’ll always be able to pick her out, even when she’s back with the others.”

  She gave a little gulp then, wondering if she would still be with Erika and Flower when they got to the summer pastures. That was weeks away. Would she be back home by then, with her real family?

  With Flower nuzzling against her gratefully as she gobbled the lichen, and the baby reindeer giving her shy looks as he suckled, Lotta wasn’t sure if she wanted to go back. Not just yet. She had loved the stories about the reindeer girl so much, and now it seemed she was living them.

  And she liked her matter-of-fact cousin, too. Erika seemed to have a silly sense of humour, even though she was a bit bossy. She definitely had a cheeky grin.

  “Flower.” Erika nodded. “I like it! What shall we call the baby?”

  “I don’t know.” Lotta shook her head. “He hasn’t got any marks. He’s just really sweet. We could call him Sweetie, maybe.”

  “I’m not calling him Sweetie!” Erika snorted. “Imagine shouting that out in front of everybody! My brothers would laugh their heads off. Besides, what about when he’s nearly as tall as you? We won’t want to call him Sweetie then.”

  “All right. What’s your favourite name?” Lotta said. “Lars? Johan?”

  “He doesn’t look like a Lars… And Johan would be too confusing, with Cousin Johan as well.” Erika stared at the little calf
thoughtfully. “He does look like a Karl, though! Let’s call him Karl!”

  Lotta and Erika spent the next few days digging up lichen for Flower in between their other chores. Lotta hadn’t understood how much hard work being a reindeer herder meant. They had to help their mothers and cousins round up the reindeer every morning, for a start. The reindeer wandered away looking for food during the night, and finding them took a lot of work, made even harder by the intense cold and the biting wind. Lotta was grateful for her reindeer-skin coat, and the furry leggings and boots. She had hated the idea of wearing reindeer skin when Oldeforeldre had told her about it, but now she saw why it was needed. The coat was a lot warmer than the smart red one she had back in her own time.

  Lotta and Erika managed to get Erika’s brothers, Matti and Nils, to help with digging for Flower, too. Erika had cunningly told them that there was no way the boys could find as much lichen as the girls could. It was another thing that was strange for Lotta – with no brothers and sisters, she wasn’t used to having other children around all the time. She loved it, especially the way she and Erika got to gang up against the boys.

  After a week of helping Flower out with her food, the reindeer was starting to look a little bit plumper, and she seemed to be making enough milk to feed Karl properly. Lotta and Erika felt sure she was managing well enough for them to join the boys for an afternoon of ice-fishing on the frozen lake close to the camp.

  At home, Lotta wasn’t that keen on fish, but all the food her mamma and Erika’s mother, Aunt Astri, cooked over the open fire seemed delicious. Perhaps it was just that she was hungrier. Lotta had never drunk coffee at home, either, but here everyone drank it to warm themselves up.

  If they could catch some trout or char, her mamma would cook it for dinner that night, with some dried herbs, perhaps. There were potatoes, too. It would make a delicious change from dried reindeer meat and stew.

  “Are you two actually coming?” Matti, Erika’s older brother, who was fourteen, stomped past. He was carrying a couple of rods and a long ice-chisel to break through the frozen lake surface.

  “We were busy with Flower and Karl!” Erika told him indignantly. “It isn’t as if you’ve been doing anything useful!”

  “Wait for me!” Nils yelled, running after them. He was only seven, the youngest in the big family group, and he hated to be left behind.

  “You’re only coming if you promise to be quiet,” Erika told him sternly, and Nils puckered up his face as if he was about to howl that it wasn’t fair.

  “Shall we go and get the reindeer skins out of the lavvu?” Lotta said quickly, trying to break up the squabble before it started. They would need the skins to sit on while they waited next to the holes in the ice, hoping that the fish would bite. She hooked her arm through Erika’s, and hurried her away.

  “Sometimes I just want to trip him up so he falls in a snowdrift,” Erika muttered, as she marched back to meet the boys, her arms full.

  “He’s only little—” Lotta started to say, but Erika glared at her.

  “Don’t say that! Everyone says that! I wasn’t annoying when I was little! You just don’t understand.”

  “Mmmm…” Lotta shrugged. She’d had this argument with her friend Grace back home, too. Grace always said that Lotta was lucky being an only child, and she had no idea how horrible brothers and sisters could be. Which was true.

  Lotta suddenly felt tears rising up inside her throat. She hadn’t thought much about home over the last week – they had been so busy. But however lovely her family here was, she missed home and her friends, and suddenly she had such a clear picture in her mind of her mum and dad. She missed talking with her mum while she cooked dinner, and Dad helping with her homework. She’d never stayed away from them for so long.

  “What’s the matter?” Erika leaned over to peer at Lotta over the pile of reindeer skins she was carrying. “You’re crying! Lotta, what is it? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  “You didn’t,” Lotta sniffed. “It’s all right.” She couldn’t explain, of course.

  “Come on. Let’s go and boss the boys about. That’ll make you feel better.” Erika led her back to where Matti and Nils were waiting with Matti’s dog, Cam, and they trudged through the trees towards the frozen lake.

  This was the first time that Lotta had been fishing, here or back at home. She looked doubtfully at Matti and Erika, as they stopped in the middle of a wide sheet of snow and Erika began to spread out the reindeer skins. It didn’t look like a lake to her. How did they know it was even water under there?

  But Matti was getting out the chisel and carefully taking the cover off the blade, ready to chip away at the ice. Nils and Erika were scooping away the snow, and Lotta crouched down to help.

  The ice was very thick, and it took Matti a while to break a hole through, even with the sharp blade of the chisel. The girls sat and watched, while Nils danced around, trying to lasso a snow-reindeer he’d made.

  “Are you all right now?” Erika asked Lotta quietly, and she nodded.

  “Yes, I was just…” She didn’t know what to say. How could she explain?

  “You’ve been so quiet this week,” her cousin added, leaning close and looking worriedly at her. “Are you really all right?”

  Lotta swallowed, not sure what to say. Of course Erika would have noticed something different about her. She tried to shrug. “I was just a bit sad. Missing Pappa, you know… Oh! What’s that?”

  A great shape was swooping low over the frozen lake, sending a shadow swirling past them. Lotta flinched and peered up into the sky as a huge, rusty-brown bird swept past. Cam barked loudly and raced back to Matti’s side.

  “An eagle!” Matti cried, dropping the ice-chisel. “It was huge! Did you see?”

  Lotta nodded, still shivering. She knew there were predators out here – wolves and even bears, but she hadn’t seen any. The eagle’s hooked claws and sharp beak looked terrifying. “Its wings – they seemed to go on forever.”

  “It was a big one,” Erika agreed. “The wings were as wide as Pappa is tall, I reckon. Maybe even wider.”

  Lotta nodded. Erika’s father was one of the tallest people she’d ever seen. “Can we go back?” she asked Erika. “I know we haven’t caught anything yet, but I want to check on Flower and Karl…”

  Erika looked up at her. “I don’t think it would come in between the trees,” she said, her voice gentle. “I know they do take calves, but out on the open tundra. Where they can swoop in.”

  “It was probably coming to see if we’d caught anything,” Matti told Lotta. He was through the ice now, and lowering in a baited line. “Maybe it was going to steal our fish.”

  “I know. But still… I think I’ll go back. You stay.”

  Erika nodded. “Are you sure?”

  “Mm-hm.” Lotta nodded. “I’ll check on Flower and Karl, and then go and fetch some firewood. So we can cook all the fish you catch.”

  She hurried away towards the line of thin trees round the banks of the frozen lake. Beyond them she could see the two lavvus, and the edge of the spruce forest.

  Lotta had expected Flower and Karl to be where the girls had left them, but as she reached the spot where she’d last seen them grazing between the trees, she couldn’t see them anywhere. “Flower!” she called, running through the trees. “Karl!”

  She heard an answering, frightened whinny, and turned to see Flower standing in a small clearing, with Karl beside her. Flower was pawing the ground anxiously as Lotta ran through the trees towards them, and Lotta was sure that the reindeer had seen the eagle, too. Flower glared suspiciously at Lotta for a moment, and then seemed to realize who she was.

  Karl bounced up and skittered over to Lotta, coming to nuzzle at her hands. He didn’t understand the danger, Lotta thought. “Come on,” she said, slapping Flower on the shoulder. “Come on, away from here, back in the trees.”

  Flower followed her readily, and Karl danced beside them until they
were safely in amongst the trees. As she looked back out towards the clearing, Lotta saw the dark shadow of the eagle float over the snow again. She shuddered. Karl would have been small enough for the eagle to carry away in its talons.

  Karl nuzzled lovingly at her, and Lotta crouched down to stroke him. Running her mittens over his soft back, the strange, sad feeling she’d had ever since they set off for the lake melted away. He had never come running to her before, she realized, he’d always been too shy.

  Flower snorted softly and went back to feeding, and Karl rested his soft chin on Lotta’s knees. She was sure that the happy little grunts and sighs he was making as she rubbed his ears and the tiny stubs of his antlers were just like a cat purring.

  “You’re so handsome, aren’t you?” she murmured. “I came running back like that because there was a great big eagle flapping about. I was worried about you.” She shivered. “I should think he’ll head over towards the calving grounds instead. There’s probably lots more little ones born by now, even littler than you! But Pappa and the others will drive him away. He won’t get them. We’ll be setting off after them soon, I expect.” She smiled at him. “Maybe that’s why I’m here. To look after you and get you safely to the summer pastures. You’ll love it there. Delicious grass to eat all the time.”

  She would love to see it for herself. Erika had talked about the glittering waterfalls, and the streams where they could lie watching the fish in the clear water. The summer pastures where the family’s herd always went were on an island, not far out from the coast. Close enough for the reindeer to swim to. “You’ll be a lot bigger by then,” she added, rather doubtfully. Karl still looked awfully small to swim for nearly an hour, even if he would be with hundreds and hundreds of his relatives. But the final migration wouldn’t start until all the calves were several weeks old, and by then they would be almost as big as their parents.