At times, the whole herd of young deer stand at gaze, as it were, breathing hard through wide nostrils, then jostling each other and stamping the soft ground.

They grow unruly and it is hard to harness them in the light sledge.

As the days pass, the Laps watch them more and more closely, well knowing what will happen sooner or later.

And then at last, in the northern twilight, the great herd begins to move.

The impulse is simultaneous, irresistible, their heads are all turned in one direction.