So　they　drifted　away　to　the　high　mountains；　to　be　gone　all
  summer。　〃Gone　to　be　taught　by　the　spirits　who　dwell　where　the
  Black　　Loon　laughs　on　the　ice；〃　said　Lief　of　the　Lower　Dale；　but
  Sveggum；　who　had　always　been　among　the　Reindeer；　said：　〃Their
  mothers　are　the　teachers；　even　as　ours　are。〃
  When　the　autumn　came；　old　Sveggum　saw　a　moving　sno…flack　far　off
  on　the　brown　moor…land；　but　the　Troll　saw　a　white　yearling；　a
  Nekbuk；　and　when　they　ranged　alongside　of　Utrovand　to　drink；　the
  still　sheet　seemed　fully　to　reflect　the　White　One；　though　it
  barely　sketched　in　the　others；　with　the　dark　hills　behind。
  Many　a　little　Calf　had　come　that　spring；　and　had　drifted　away　on
  the　moss…barrens；　to　come　back　no　more；　for　some　were　weaklings
  and　some　were　fools；　some　fell　by　the　way；　for　that　is　law；　and
  some　would　not　learn　the　rules；　and　so　died。　But　the　White　Calf
  was　strongest　of　them　all；　and　he　was　wise；　so　he　learned　of　his
  mother；　who　was　wisest　of　them　all。　He　learned　that　the　grass　on
  the　sun　side　of　a　rock　is　sweet；　and　though　it　looks　the　same　in
  the　dark　hollows；　it　is　there　worthless。　He　learned　that　when　his
  mother's　hoofs　crackled　he　must　be　up　and　moving；　and　when　all
  the　herd's　hoofs　crackled　there　was　danger；　and　he　must　keep　by
  his　mother's　side。　For　this　crackling　is　like　the　whistling　of　a
  Whistler　Duck's　wings：　it　is　to　keep　the　kinds　together。　He
  learned　that　where　the　little　Bomuldblomster　hangs　its　Cotton
  tufts　is　dangerous　bog；　that　the　harsh　cackle　of　the　Ptarmigan
  means　that　close　at　hand　are　Eagles；　as　dangerous　for　Fawn　as　for
  Bird。　He　learned　that　the　little　troll…berries　are　deadly；　that
  when　the　verra…flies　come　stinging　he　must　take　refuge　on　a
  snow…patch；　and　that　of　all　animal　smells　only　that　of　his　mother
  was　to　be　fully　trusted。　He　learned　that　he　was　growing。　His　flat
  calf　sides　and　big　joints　were　changing　to　the　full　barrel　and
  clean　limbs　of　the　Yearling；　and　the　little　bumps　which　began　to
  show　on　his　head　when　he　was　only　a　fortnight　old　were　now　sharp；
  hard　spikes　that　could　win　in　fight。
  More　than　once　they　had　smelt　that　dreaded　destroyer　of　the　north
  that　men　call　the　Gjerv　or　Wolverene；　and　one　day；　as　this
  danger…scent　came　suddenly　and　in　great　strength；　a　huge　blot　of
  dark　brown　sprang　rumbling　from　a　rocky　ledge；　and　straight　for
  the　foremostthe　White　Calf。　His　eye　caught　the　flash　of　a
  whirling；　shaggy　mass；　with　gleaming　teeth　and　eyes；　hot…breathed
  and　ferocious。　Blank　horror　set　his　hair　on　end；　his　nostrils
  flared　in　fear：　but　before　he　fled　there　rose　within　another
  feelingone　of　anger　at　the　breaker　of　his　peace；　a　sense　that
  swept　all　fear　away；　braced　his　legs；　and　set　his　horns　at
  charge。　The　brown　brute　landed　with　a　deep…chested　growl；　to　be
  received　on　the　young　one's　spikes。　They　pierced　him　deeply；　but
  the　shock　was　overmuch；　it　bore　the　White　One　down；　and　he　might
  yet　have　been　killed　but　that　his　mother；　alert　and　ever　near；
  now　charged　the　attacking　monster；　and　heavier；　better　armed；　she
  hurled　and　speared　him　to　the　ground。　And　the　White　Calf；　with　a
  very　demon　glare　in　his　once　mild　eyes；　charged　too；　and　even
  after　the　Wolverene　was　a　mere　hairy　mass；　and　his　mother　had
  retired　to　feed；　he　came；　snorting　out　his　rage；　to　drive　his
  spikes　into　the　hateful　thing；　till　his　snowy　head　was　stained
  with　his　adversary's　blood。
  Thus　he　showed　that　below　the　ox…like　calm　exterior　was　the
  fighting　beast；　that　he　was　like　the　men　of　the　north；　rugged；
  square…built；　calm；　slow　to　wrath；　but　when　aroused　〃seeing　red。〃
  When　they　ranked　together　by　the　lake　that　fall；　the　Fossekal
  sang　his　old　song：
  When　I　am　hiding
  Norway's　luck
  On　a　White　Storbuk
  Comes　riding；　riding；
  as　though　this　was　something　he　had　awaited；　then　disappeared　no
  one　knew　where。　Old　Sveggum　had　seen　it　flying　through　the
  stream；　as　birds　fly　through　the　air；　walking　in　the　bottom　of　a
  deep　pond　as　a　Ptarmigan　walks　on　the　rocks；　living　as　no　bird
  can　live；　and　now　the　old　man　said　it　had　simply　gone　southward
  for　the　winter。　But　old　Sveggum　could　neither　read　nor　write：　how
  should　he　know？
  II
  Each　springtime　when　the　Reindeer　passed　over　Sveggum's　mill…run；
  as　they　moved　from　the　lowland　woods　to　the　bleaker　shore　of
  Utrovand；　the　Fossekal　was　there　to　sing　about　the　White　Storbuk；
  which　each　year　became　more　truly　the　leader。
  That　first　spring　he　stood　little　higher　than　a　Hare。　When　he
  came　to　drink　in　the　autumn；　his　back　was　above　the　rock　where
  Sveggum's　stream　enters　Utrovand。　Next　year　he　barely　passed
  under　the　stunted　birch；　and　the　third　year　the　Fossekal　on　the
  painted　rock　was　looking　up；　not　down；　at　him　as　he　passed。　This
  was　the　autumn　when　Rol　and　Sveggum　sought　the　Hoifjeld　to　round
  up　their　　　half…wild　herd　and　select　some　of　the　strongest　for
  the　sled。　There　was　but　one　opinion　about　the　Storbuk。　Higher
  than　the　others；　heavier；　white　as　snow；　with　a　mane　that　swept
  the　shallow　drifts；　breasted　like　a　Horse　and　with　horns　like　a
  storm…grown　oak；　he　was　king　of　the　herd；　and　might　easily　be
  king　of　the　road。
  There　are　two　kinds　of　deer…breakers；　as　there　are　two　kinds　of
  horse…breakers：　one　that　tames　and　teaches　the　animal；　and　gets　a
  spirited；　friendly　helper；　one　that　aims　to　break　its　spirit；　and
  gets　only　a　sullen　slave；　ever　ready　to　rebel　and　wreak　its　hate。
  Many　a　Lapp　and　many　a　Norsk　has　paid　with　his　life　for　brutality
  to　his　Reindeer；　and　Rol's　days　were　shortened　by　his　own
  pulk…Ren。　But　Sveggum　was　of　gentler　sort。　To　him　fell　the
  training　of　the　White　Storbuk。　It　was　slow；　for　the　Buck　resented
  all　liberties　from　man；　as　he　did　from　his　brothers；　but
  kindness；　not　fear；　was　the　power　that　tamed　him；　and　when　he　had
  learned　to　obey　and　glory　in　the　sled　race；　it　was　a　noble　sight
  to　see　the　great　white　mild…eyed　beast　striding　down　the　long
  snow…stretch　of　Utrovand；　the　steam　jetting　from　his　nostrils；
  the　snow　swirling　up　before　like　the　curling　waves　on　a　steamer's
  bow；　sled；　driver；　and　Deer　all　dim　in　flying　white。
  Then　came　the　Yule…tide　Fair；　with　the　races　on　the　ice；　and
  Utrovand　for　once　was　gay。　The　sullen　hills　about　reechoed　with
  merry　shouting。　The　Reindeer　races　were　first；　with　many　a　mad
  mischance　for　laughter。　Rol　himself　was　there　with　his　swiftest
  sled　Deer；　a　tall；　dark；　five…year…old；　in　his　primest　prime。　But
  over…eager；　over…brutal；　he　harried　the　sullen；　splendid　slave
  till　in　mid…racejust　when　in　a　way　to　winit　turned　at　a　cruel
  blow；　and　Rol　took　refuge　under　the　upturned　sled　until　it　had
  vented　its　rage　against　the　wood；　and　so　he　lost　the　race；　and
  the　winner　was　the　young　White　Storbuk。　Then　he　won　the
  five…mile　race　around　the　lake；　and　for　each　triumph　Sveggum　hung
  a　little　silver　bell　on　his　harness；　so　that　now　he　ran　and　won
  to　merry　music。
  Then　came　the　Horse　races；running　races　these；　the　Reindeer
  only　trots；and　when　Balder；　the　victor　Horse；　received　his
  ribbon　and　his　owner　the　purse；　came　Sveggum　with　all　his
  winnings　in　his　hand；　and　said：　〃Ho；　Lars；　thine　is　a　fine　Horse；
  but　mine　is　a　better　Storbuk；　let　us　put　our　winnings　together
  and　race；　each　his　beast；　for　all。〃
  A　Ren　against　a　Race…horsesuch　a　race　was　never　seen　till　now。
  Off　at　the　pistol…crack　they　flew。　〃Ho；　Balder！　（cluck！）　Ho；　hi；
  Balder！〃　Away　shot　the　beautiful　Racer；　and　the　Storbuk；　striding
  at　a　slower　trot；　was　left　behind。
  〃Ho；　Balder！〃　〃Hi；　Storbuk！〃　How　the　people　cheered　as　the　Horse
  went　bounding　and　gaining！　But　he　had　left　the　line　at　his　top
  speed；　the　Storbuk's　rose　as　he　flewfasterfaster。　The　Pony
  ceased　to　gain。　A　mile　whirled　by；　the　gap　began　to　close。　The
  Pony　had　over…spurted　at　the　start；　but　the　Storbuk　was　warming
  to　his　workstriding　evenly；　swiftly；　faster　yet；　as　Sveggum
  cried　in　encouragement：　〃Ho；　Storbuk！　good　Storbuk！〃　or　talked　to
  him　only　with　a　gentle　rein。　At　the　turning…point　the　pair　were
  neck　and　neck；　then　the　Ponythough　well　driven　and　well
  shod…slipped　on　the　ice；　and　thenceforth　held　back　as　though　in
  fear；　so　the　Storbuk　steamed　away。　The　Pony　and　his　driver　were
  far　behind　when　a　roar　from　every　human　throat　in　Filefjeld　told
  that　the　Storbuk　had　passed　the　wire　and　won　the　race。　And　yet
  all　this　was　before　the　White　Ren　had　reached　the　years　of　his
  full　strength　and　speed。
  Once　that　day　Rol　essayed　to　drive　the　Storbuk。　They　set　off　at　a
  good　pace；　the　White　Buk　ready；　responsive　to　the　single　rein；
  and　his　mild　eyes　veiled　by　his　drooping　lashes。　But；　without　any
  reason　other　than　the　habit　of　brutality；　Rol　struck　him。　In　a
  moment　there　was　a　change。　The　Racer's　speed　was　checked；　all
  four　legs　braced　forward　till　he　stood；　the　drooping　lids　were
  raised；　the　eyes　rolledthere　was　a　green　light　in　them　now。
  Three　puffs　of　steam　were　jetted　from　each　nostril。　Rol　shouted；
  then；　scenting　danger；　quickly　upset　the　sled　and　hid　beneath。
  The　Storbuk　turned　to　charge　the　sled；　sniffing　and　tossing　the
  snow　with　his　foot；　but　little　Knute；　Sveggum's　son；　ran　forward
  and　put　his　arms　around　the　Storbuk's　neck；　then　the　fierce　look
  left　the　Reindeer's　eye；　and　he　suffered　the　child　to　lead　him
  quietly　back　to　the　starting…point。　Beware；　O　driver！　the
  Reindeer；　t