
Chapter
Church Grim
We have arrived in Lycksele after traveling up the Ume River. Many falls threatened to capsize our vessel, and we suffered heavy rain and swarms of mosquitoes that drove me to the brink of madness. The villagers are remarkably taciturn. A woman claimed the village was cursed and the water full of tadpoles. Apparently, she had to drink hard spirits not to belch up frogs. I inquired about the source of this black magic. She pointed at the rickety woodden church on the edge of the village, saying that the handsome pastor from the south is punishing the people of Lycksele for not taking him into their hearts. I went to see him. Reverend Gran was indeed an elegant young man. He stood in the doorway with darkness behind him and asked me whether I thought it possible to make decent people out of these wayward locals. When I mentioned the supposed curse, he immediately turned gruff. Something stepped out of the darkness. The largest dog I have ever seen rubbed its head against the pastor's leg, glaring at me with its red eyes. I realized that the beast was not of this world. Perhaps I really did go mad from those infernal mosquitoes keeping me awake for days on end.
— Carl Linnaeus, May 30th, 1732