The Reindeer Girl

by Holly Webb

  “She must have seen all that lichen and wandered off for a snack,” Erika said, trying to pull the twigs out of Flower’s fur. “Then she got herself all caught up, and couldn’t follow us.”

  “I’m so glad we found her,” Lotta murmured, yanking at the branches. “There! Come on, Flower! Pull!”

  The two girls backed away, coaxing Flower to follow them. At first, the reindeer didn’t seem to realize that she was free. She shook herself suspiciously, antlers swaying, and then looked down in surprise. All at once she understood that she could move and she gave a great leap, bursting out into the open. She stood there in the snow, her sides heaving and her eyes wild. But then she saw Karl, and she nuzzled at him delightedly.

  The little reindeer allowed himself to be sniffed and licked all over, and then he ducked determinedly underneath his mother and started to feed.

  Lotta watched him, smiling to herself, and then she hugged Erika. “We did it! Look at them, they’re both safe.”

  Erika nodded. “I know. And it is wonderful. But we have to get back, Lotta.” She was looking along the trail, a serious expression on her face, nothing like her usual teasing grin.

  Lotta swallowed. She had forgotten. “The river?”

  “Mmmm. I’m worried that if we leave it much longer, we won’t be able to cross back over. And then we’ll lose the trail.”

  Lotta glanced down at Karl, who was still feeding. He didn’t look as though he wanted to stop any time soon. “He’s so hungry…” she said. “We can’t make him go on just yet.”

  But Flower was sniffing at the air, turning her head from side to side. She looked as worried as the girls, and then she turned and began to nose gently at Karl, pushing him away.

  He honked crossly and tried to keep feeding, but Flower began to walk off down the trail, and he stumbled after her.

  “She knows!” Lotta stared at Flower. “Did you see that? She knows we need to keep going!”

  “Maybe she can smell the river?” Erika suggested, hurriedly putting her skis back on. “It isn’t that far away, and reindeer have amazing noses. She might even be able to tell that the ice is melting. We’d better be quick.”

  Despite the worry about the thaw, Lotta couldn’t help smiling as they made their way back through the forest. The sunlight was coming through the trees in bright shafts, and the place seemed to be suddenly alive with birds and tiny creatures.

  Although the snow was softening underfoot, they could still easily see the tracks of the herd, so there was no danger of getting lost. Karl seemed to have perked up, even though he’d only had a quick feed, and he was dancing around Flower in circles. He reminded Lotta of a puppy, little and silly, with feet that were too big for him.

  But as they came closer to the river, the girls grew quieter, listening for the sound of water. At last they came out through the trees to the riverbank, and stared in dismay at the sheet of ice they had walked over only three hours before.

  It wasn’t there any more. Now a jagged channel was running down the middle of the river – dark, fast-flowing water, dotted with huge chunks of ice. Lotta stepped up to the edge and peered over. The far bank seemed a lot further away than it had earlier on.

  Erika kicked angrily at the snow with the point of her ski. “We can’t cross here.”

  “Maybe there’s a place further up. Somewhere we could just jump across the gap…” Lotta said, but her cousin shook her head.

  “No, Lotta. Think! The meltwater is coming down from the mountains further up the river, isn’t it? It’ll be worse upstream. We’ll have to find a place to cross downstream.” Erika looked up and down the river, and Lotta gulped, trying to keep calm. She hadn’t felt so out of place in this world since the first morning she’d found herself here. She just didn’t know what to do.

  “We won’t know the way back…” she whispered.

  “We’ll find it somehow.” Erika put an arm round her shoulder. “Hey! Flower!”

  The mother reindeer had been standing next to them, staring at the water, but now she turned and began to walk slowly but confidently away along the riverbank.

  “Flower, come here!” Erika called, but Lotta caught her arm.

  “Maybe we should follow her, Erika. She knows the way better than we do, doesn’t she?”

  The Sami herders didn’t so much lead the reindeer as follow them, Lotta had realized during her time here. The reindeer knew where they were supposed to be going – it was more a case of keeping them all together, and protecting them on the way. The herd always returned to its traditional calving grounds and the same summer pastures. But sometimes they had to use different routes, depending on the weather.

  “She seems to know where she’s going,” Lotta said, undoing her skis. Erika took hers off, too, and they began to follow Flower and Karl. “It’s as if we’ve rescued her, and now she’s going to help us.”

  They walked on down the riverbank, carrying their skis as they wove in and out of the trees, until Flower suddenly stopped. The river had widened out, and it didn’t seem to be flowing quite as fast. The chunks of ice floated lazily by, and Lotta was sure she saw a fish dart past, too.

  She thought that Flower had just stopped to drink, and the reindeer did lean down for a few mouthfuls of water. But then she stepped closer to the river, and into the shallow water just below the bank.

  “She’s going to cross!” Lotta gasped. Even though the river seemed wider and shallower here, now she came close it still looked frightening. The water was swirling by so fast, and she couldn’t tell how deep it was.

  Flower went deeper into the water, so that it was halfway up her legs, but Karl and the girls didn’t follow her. They stood huddled on the bank, staring after her miserably. The mother reindeer stopped, realizing that her baby wasn’t with her, and turned round to eye them all. Lotta was sure that if she could talk she would have told them to hurry up and get on with it. But then she stepped delicately over to the bank and bumped Karl with her nose, trying to encourage him into the water. The calf squealed, and jumped back. He’d never seen anything like the river before, and he didn’t want to be in it.

  “I think we have to go with her,” Lotta said nervously. “She knows what she’s doing. If she thinks it’s safe for Karl, it should be safe for us, too.”

  “I suppose so…” Erika muttered. “Take off your boots and your coat. We’ll bundle them up, and try and keep them out of the water. I can’t tell how deep it is, but if we hold them up, we should be able to keep them dry.”

  Lotta nodded, shivering as she shrugged off her thick coat, and undid her boots. Her feet began to hurt as soon as she put them down in the snow. The water was going to be deathly cold.

  Karl was still darting about on the bank, clearly anxious to reach his mother, but frightened of the rushing river.

  Lotta looked at him. “Erika, can you take my things, and I’ll carry Karl? He’s never going to go in the water, is he?”

  Erika nodded. “I’m not sure I am, either,” she muttered, with a little shiver.

  Lotta passed over her coat bundle and her skis, and picked Karl up. He struggled madly for a moment, but then Flower reached over and nipped at his ear with her teeth. Lotta thought she was probably telling him to behave. Flower stood in the water, just below the bank, looking from Lotta to Erika, as though she was making sure they were ready.

  “Grab her antlers,” Lotta said, looking at the swirling water. She tucked Karl tightly under her arm, and gripped on to Flower’s antlers, grateful that she hadn’t shed them yet.

  With both girls holding on, Flower stepped forward into the water, and the girls followed, gasping as the cold hit them. The river was swollen with meltwater, and it was flowing so fast. Lotta felt herself being pushed hard against Flower’s side by the strength of the rushing water. It was getting deeper and deeper, and as they reached the middle of the river it was up to Lotta’s waist.

  Karl wriggled and squealed as the cold water soaked his dangling legs
, but thankfully he didn’t try to leap away. Lotta wasn’t sure she’d have been able to catch him.

  Flower walked slowly, determinedly on, planting her strong hooves firmly on the riverbed, and hauling the girls with her, until at last they scrambled out on the other side. The reindeer then shook herself energetically all over them.

  Lotta put Karl down gently. Her arms were aching from the effort of holding him so tightly against the pull of the river. Flower leaned down to nuzzle at her baby, and he snuggled against her.

  “I wish I could just shake myself dry,” Erika said, her teeth chattering violently as she tried to wring out the skirts of her gakti.

  Lotta nodded. At least their reindeer-skin leggings had kept out almost all of the water. They were damp, but not soaked like the wool cloth of her tunic. She pushed her numb, icy feet into her boots, and gratefully dragged on her coat. Then both girls leaned against Flower, shaking with cold, and the fear that they’d had to hold back as they crossed the river.

  “Can we sit and rest for a bit?” Erika murmured. She was shivering and pale, and Lotta hated the way her cheeks looked pinched with cold under her hat.

  The two girls moved into the shelter of the trees, away from the rushing sound of the river and sat down, huddled together. Karl trotted over and nestled against Lotta’s side, his head in her lap. Flower watched from a few paces away as the two girls slowly nibbled some of the dried meat they had brought with them. Then at last she came over to join them, lying down next to Erika, who leaned against her, grateful for her warmth.

  A few hours later, Lotta woke up with a start, disturbed by a rustling in the trees. She sat up quickly, but it seemed to be only a red squirrel, peering down at her from the branches, his tufted ears twitching. Lotta took a deep breath, and then shifted uncomfortably in her damp gakti. She still felt cold, but better than before, less shaky and scared.

  It was getting dark now – not very, but the light was starting to seep away, and the shadows of the trees were lengthening.

  “Erika, wake up,” Lotta said, reaching over and gently shaking her cousin. “We should go. It’s late. We have to try and get back tonight. Mamma and Aunt Astri will be worried about us.” Maybe they would have set out to find them, Lotta wondered, feeling guilty. The girls had held up the journey to the calving grounds. But Lotta still felt sure they couldn’t have done anything else.

  Erika sat up, yawning, but her cheeks were pinkish again and she’d lost that awful chilled look. “Oh, we must have slept for ages.” She struggled to her feet. “We have to go.”

  The girls strapped on their skis, and Flower nudged Karl to his feet. Then she set off through the trees again, with the girls walking on either side of her.

  “Do you think she still knows where she’s going?” Lotta asked.

  Erika sighed. “I hope so…”

  They trekked on, chilled and weary, until the light faded completely. Karl suddenly stopped, with a miserable little honk. He stood behind them, hooves planted in the snow in a determined sort of way.

  “Come on, Karl,” Erika called, trying to sound cheerful.

  “I think he’s saying he’s not going any further,” Lotta said. “Maybe we should camp out until morning. I know we walked in the dark last night, but then we had the trail to follow. If we go wrong now, we could get really lost.”

  We are really lost, a small voice inside her whispered, but she didn’t say it out loud. “Look, we could camp over there.” Not far away, a huge tree had fallen, and its roots made a patch of shelter, big enough for the two girls to curl up in and rest. Karl snuggled in with them, and Flower lay down outside, like a guard dog.

  Lotta curled herself round Karl and Erika, and stared out at the dark forest. The moon wasn’t as bright as it had been the night before, and everything seemed much more frightening. What if they never found their way back to the rest of the herd? Lotta was almost sure now that she was here because of Karl and Flower, to make sure that they got home safely. She had no idea how, or why. Or how she was going to get home herself. Surrounded as she was by darkness, and small, quiet noises, her everyday life seemed very far away.

  “Lotta… It’s morning.”

  Lotta rolled over, rubbing at her damp face, and Karl jumped away with a startled squeak.

  Erika giggled. “He was licking your cheek. I let him, I thought it might be a nice way to wake up.”

  “Uurgh!” Lotta groaned, as she scrambled to her feet. “I’m cold right through. I don’t think I’ve properly got warm since the river.”

  “Hopefully you’ll warm up when we’re walking. We have to go, look. Flower’s set off already.”

  Flower was several paces away, loudly grunting to Karl to follow her. She looked over at Erika and Lotta, as if to tell them that they’d better hurry up, too.

  “We’ll get back to the rest of the herd today,” Lotta said, as they set off on their skis. She was trying to sound sure.

  “I really hope so,” Erika said. “They must be so worried about us, my mamma and yours. Especially now we’ve been away overnight. And they can’t go on to the calving ground until they’ve found us. They’ll have gone to look for us, but it won’t be easy to find our tracks, not with the way the herd churn up the snow.”

  “I suppose I shouldn’t have made us go,” Lotta said in a small voice.

  But Erika shook her head. “No. We had to. And anyway, you didn’t make me. We couldn’t have left Flower behind.”

  Lotta smiled at her gratefully, and then she gasped. “Erika, look!”

  They were joining a wider path between the trees, and Flower was looking out along it, as if she was considering the way. Then she bent her head down, snuffling confidently, as though she’d caught a scent she knew. The girls hurried after her, and stared at the path – at the churned-up snow, covered in hoofprints, and marked here and there by the thick wooden runners of the sledges.

  “We found them! The trail!” Lotta and Erika hugged each other excitedly.

  “All we have to do now is follow it, and we’ll find them!” Erika squealed.

  “I wonder how far we’ve got to go,” Lotta said, peering around at the trees. “I don’t remember this part of the forest. It must be a bit we went through when I was asleep on the sledge.”

  “Lotta, hush a moment.” Erika caught her arm, her fingers pinching, and Lotta stopped talking, suddenly frightened.

  “I heard something – oh, there it is again!” Erika’s eyes widened with fear as the noise floated out across the forest, and Lotta let out a terrified gasp. She had never heard that sound before, not for real. But she knew at once what it was.

  The howl of a wolf…

  “Can you see them?” Erika asked, looking frantically from side to side.

  “Them?” Lotta faltered.

  “They always hunt in packs,” Erika told her grimly. “They’ll be after Karl – he’s the smallest and weakest. Easy prey.”

  Flower seemed to know this, too. She had nudged Karl close in to her side, and her head was lowered, ready to use her antlers to protect her baby.

  Lotta pulled out her knife, but she knew they would never be able to fight off a whole pack of wolves, or even a small hunting group. “Look, if we keep going, we might get back to the herd before they’re brave enough to attack us.”

  Erika nodded, getting her knife out, too. “It’s our only chance. Come on, Flower.” She grabbed Flower’s antlers, and the girls pulled her forward, hurrying along the trail. Karl scurried beside them, quiet and frightened. He had never seen wolves, either, but he must have been able to smell that they were dangerous.

  “I can see one,” Lotta gasped, a few minutes later. “Over there, look.”

  A thin, dog-like shape was slinking through the trees alongside them. It was whiter than Lotta had expected, and the sun shone on its fur. If she hadn’t been running away from it, she would have thought it was beautiful. Instead, it was the most frightening thing she had ever seen.

  She
strode along on her skis, trying desperately to go faster, but the wolf kept pace with them easily, drawing closer between the trees. Soon Lotta could see two more of the pack at its heels.

  “They’re on this side, too,” Erika told her, panting. “Oh! Look out!” She shoved Lotta to the side as one of the wolves darted in, trying to snap at Flower.

  The reindeer let out a snarling grunt, and lowered her antlers, charging at the wolf, who rolled quickly out of the way. But there were five or six of them now – Lotta couldn’t be quite sure, they were so fast. And they dashed in, one after the other, snapping at Flower’s legs and even leaping for her neck.

  Lotta seized Karl, holding him close, and stretching out her shaking hand with the knife. She had no idea how to use it, even, but perhaps the wolves had seen hunters before. They seemed to be wary of the girls and their weapons. For the moment, anyway.

  Four wolves were circling Flower now, darting in and out, snapping here and there as she turned, grunting and charging at them, antlers down. Then all at once they rushed forward, two of them leaping for her back at the same time. One of them tore a scratch down Flower’s shoulder, and she screamed and galloped away, vanishing between the trees.

  “Flower!” Lotta called. But she was gone.

  Karl let out a despairing little whinny as his mother disappeared, and Lotta sobbed with fear. Two of the wolves were still left, circling widely around the two girls and the little reindeer. Clearly they thought that Karl would be easier pickings than his mother.

  “Stand back to back!” Erika gasped, holding out her knife, and Lotta nodded, pressing her back against her cousin’s, Karl trembling in her arms. She couldn’t let the wolves have the calf. Not after they had tried so hard to keep him alive. It was why she was here!

  There were more wolves now – the whole pack was back again, creeping closer and closer.

  “I think Flower outran them…” Erika muttered. “They’ve come back for Karl. And us, maybe. If they’re really hungry.”