The Land of the Long Night — Inside the Classic

Reindeer as Engines of Travel

Du Chaillu devotes considerable attention to reindeer, treating them not merely as draft animals but as the central technology of Arctic travel. In one episode, he describes five male Samoyed reindeer, 'the finest and largest I had thus far seen,' with superb antlers. Their owner boasts they are in their prime, between six and eight years old, and have not been used for two weeks, so they feel 'very frisky.' The author's delight is palpable: he compares the ride's speed to the Pennsylvania Railroad's Limited express. The reindeer start 'at a furious rate,' and Du Chaillu marvels at the Lapps' gymnastic feats as they throw themselves into their sleighs. The passage reveals a traveler who relishes speed and danger, and who frames his experience through comparisons familiar to his American audience.

Wolf Hunt on Skees

A wolf encounter showcases the Lapps' mastery of skees—the snowshoes of the region, distinct from those used by Native Americans. When two wolves appear, the Lapp guide instantly leaps onto his skees, armed only with a bludgeon, and 'seemed to fly over the snow.' He kills the first wolf with a blow to the skull, then dispatches the second by breaking its teeth and delivering a deathblow. Du Chaillu, left behind because he cannot 'skee fast enough,' waits for hours until the Lapp returns with the runaway reindeer and sleighs. The episode underscores the author's dependence on his guides and his admiration for their skills. It also highlights a recurring pattern: Du Chaillu is an observer and participant, but the real feats belong to the Lapps.

The Author's Dual Role: Guide and Guest

Du Chaillu's narrative voice shifts between that of an experienced explorer leading readers and a visitor reliant on local hospitality. In the introduction, he calls himself 'Friend Paul' and promises to take readers into the Arctic. Yet in the wolf episode, he is passive, waiting while the Lapp acts. Later, he accepts an invitation to visit a Lapp's brother, noting that the host points out which reindeer will be his. The author is both the arranger of the journey and a guest who must follow. This duality gives the text a particular texture: Du Chaillu explains customs and landscapes with authority, but his adventures are often shaped by the decisions of his Lapp companions. Readers see the Arctic through his eyes, but the agency frequently lies elsewhere.

Du Chaillu's account is best approached as a hybrid: part travelogue, part ethnographic sketch, and part adventure story for young readers. The excerpts reveal a narrator who is eager to share his enthusiasm but also honest about his limitations. Pay attention to the moments when the author steps back and lets the Lapps' actions speak—these often carry the most vivid detail. The book's structure, moving from post stations to reindeer camps, mirrors the journey itself, with each stop offering new observations. Readers interested in the practicalities of Arctic travel, rather than romanticized landscapes, will find Du Chaillu's focus on transport and survival instructive.

Reading Du Chaillu’s account of the long winter night, I felt a strange kinship with his patient reindeer drivers. Their quiet endurance against the dark brought to mind the equally patient, solitary footsteps of another traveler. Sometimes I think Arctic stillness and African heat share the same silence, and I found myself reaching for The Last Journals of David Livingstone, in Central Africa, from 1865 to His Death, Volume I (of 2), 1866-1868 — Text and Context as a familiar companion to that feeling.