Argosy (UK), January 1955 — page 33: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

: : ’ . ; Ay re NORTH OF MIDNIGHT lacking for more than a few minutes of each day, Garrod remem- bered that he had a letter of introduction. Back in Helsinki, when arranging with the Government about his trip, someone in the department dealing with Lapland had written it out and handed it across. w _ “If ever you do get to Ivalo, go and see Aimo. If anyone can help you, he can. I don’t say he will, mind you. I just say he can.’ The officer in charge of the party made inquiries about Aimo. He was a mysterious figure, his Finnish origin doubtful. Even his age appeared uncertain. He was believed to have come originally from Russia, perhaps back in 1917. Neither wars nor invasions shifted him. | “When the Germans arrived,” Garrod was told, ‘“ Aimo became a bear and made his home underneath a tree.” He spoke “all languages,”’ and was one of the few people who could talk to the different tribes of Lapps in their own tongue. Aimo lived some miles out. It was no good, they told Garrod, setting out to visit him tonight. In the morning somebody going that way would escort him. For tonight, the three men sleeping underneath the kitchen table would move a little closer. Aimo’s home proved to be a small bath-house built of logs. The Finns are a people of pioneers, continually bringing more and more of their wild land under cultivation. For centuries it has been the custom, when a family settles on unbroken land, to build first the bath-house where the family will one day take its sauna, or steambath, usually by a lakeside. The family lives for the first winter in the bath-house while the land is cleared. In spring, the soil is ploughed and the crops sown. After harvest, the farmhouse proper is put up before the second winter. Aimo had built his own bath-house, and was sitting the winter out, half hibernating as so many do in the long northern night; and, just like the bears who hibernate under the roots of trees, Aimo was angry at being disturbed. “I don’t know what you’ve come to me for,” he protested. “I’m not a Government pensioner. I’m only a poor damned farmer trying to get my little bit of land in order. I’ve quite enough on my hands without worrying over your concerns.” Garrod listened patiently, waiting for the storm to blow itself out. It didn’t. At last: “‘ I can see I’ve been misinformed,” he said. “ I'd better be getting back to Ivalo.” “But how? ” demanded Aimo angrily: he was a tall, fair man, with a face both powerful and empty. “ How can you get back? i ie ich i kd co aii a a + pee yy comiclbooks.comnn)