This is a modern-English version of A Yacht Voyage to Norway, Denmark, and Sweden: 2nd edition, originally written by Ross, William A.. It has been thoroughly updated, including changes to sentence structure, words, spelling, and grammar—to ensure clarity for contemporary readers, while preserving the original spirit and nuance. If you click on a paragraph, you will see the original text that we modified, and you can toggle between the two versions.

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Transcriber's Note

Transcriber’s Note


Hover mouse over Greek words for a transliteration.

Errata listed on Page viii have been corrected in the text.










A

YACHT VOYAGE

TO

NORWAY,

DENMARK, AND SWEDEN.





BY

W. A. ROSS, ESQ.





Ver erat: errabam: Zephyrus conspexit: abibam:

Ver erat: errabam: Zephyrus conspexit: abibam:

Unfollow: I'm out.
Ovid. Fast. Book 5.




Second Edition.




LONDON:
HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER,
GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
1849.





LONDON:
PRINTED BY T. R. HARRISON,
ST. MARTIN'S LANE.




TO

AN AMIABLE AND A GENEROUS FRIEND,

ROBERT, LORD RODNEY,

I DEDICATE THIS VOLUME,

IN TOKEN

OF ADMIRATION, GRATITUDE,

AND

AFFECTION.

TO

AN FRIENDLY AND GENEROUS FRIEND,

ROBERT, LORD RODNEY,

I DEDICATE THIS BOOK,

AS A SIGN

OF RESPECT, THANKS,

AND

AFFECTION.






CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
Departure from Greenwich—The History of the Iris Yacht—Sheerness—Harwich—Under Weigh—The North Sea—Sail in Sight—The Mail Overboard—Speaking the Norwegian 1
CHAPTER II.
Foggy Weather—First View of Norway—Christiansand Fiord—Arrival at Christiansand—Description of the Town—The Toptdal River—Excursion Inland—The Enthusiastic Angler—Rustic Lodgings—Hunting the Bear—The Trap—The Death—Norwegian Liberality 13
CHAPTER III.
Departure from Christiansand—The Pilot's Pram—Skaw Point—Delinquencies of Jacko—Expensive Cannonading—Elsineur—Hamlet's Walk—The Minister, Struensee—Story of Queen Caroline-Matilda—Legend of the Serf 46
CHAPTER IV.
The Pilot—Tempestuous Weather—Distant View of Copenhagen—Lord Nelson—The Battle of the Baltic—The Harbour-Master—Interest excited by the Yacht's Arrival—The Artist—The Angler—We go Ashore 58
CHAPTER V.
Copenhagen—The Cape—The Dilemma—The Guard—Compliment to England—Description of the Harbour and Fortifications— Delinquent Sailors—The City on Sunday—Negro Commissionaire—A Walk through the City—Notices of the various Public Buildings 74
CHAPTER VI.
The Casino—The Royal Family of Denmark—Succession to Holstein—The English Consul—Visit to the English Ambassador—Colossal Statue of Christian the Fifth—Anecdote of Belzoni—Trinity Church—Extraordinary Feat of Peter the Great—Ducking an Offender—Palace of Christiansborg—The Exchange—The Castle of Rosenberg 91
CHAPTER VII.[Pg vi]
Dinner at the Embassy—Manners and Customs of the Danes—The Spanish Ambassador and the English Exile—The Citadel—Story of the Two Captives—Joe Washimtum, again—A Danish Dinner—Visit to the Theatre—Political Reflections—Festivities on Board the Yacht—Merry Party at the American Ambassador's—The Duchies of Schleswig and Holstein 106
CHAPTER VIII.
The Exile's Souvenir—The Disappointed Artist—Departure from Copenhagen—Arrival at Elsineur—Description of the Town—The Castle of Cronenborg—Hamlet's Garden—Esrom Lake—The Legend of Esrom Monastery—The French War-Steamer—Sailing up the Cattegat 140
CHAPTER IX.
Arrival at Falkenborg—The Storm—The Yacht in Danger—Safe Anchorage—Visit to Falkenborg—Ludicrous Adventure—A Drive into the Interior—Great Scarcity experienced by the Inhabitants—Description of the Country—The Disappointed Anglers—Kongsbacka—The Yacht runs aground—Gottenborg 154
CHAPTER X.
The Casino at Gottenborg—Awkward Dilemma—The Watchman and the Northern Star—Swedish Artillery—The Grove—An Old Man's History—The Alarm of Fire—The Carriage overturned—The River Gotha—Washing in the Stream—The Narrow Streets—Description of Gottenborg—Its Decayed Commerce—The Herring Fishery 172
CHAPTER XI.
Return to Norway—Sail up the Gulf—Approach to Christiania—Its Appearance from the Water—Anecdote of Bernadotte—Description of the City—The Fortress—Charles the XIIth—The Convicts—Story of the Captured Cannon—The Highwayman—Prospect from the Mountains—The Norwegian Peasant Girl 204
CHAPTER XII.
A Drive into the Interior—Extensive and Sublime Prospect—Norwegian Post-Houses—Repair of the Roads—Preparations for Departure 215
CHAPTER XIII.[Pg vii]
The Yacht under sail—Jacko overboard—Fredricksværn—The Union Jack—Scenery on the Larvig River—Transit of Timber—Salmon Fishing—The Defeated Angler—Ludicrous Adventure with an Eagle—Result of the Angling Expedition—The Bevy of Ladies—Norwegian Dinner-Party, Singular and Amusing Customs 240
CHAPTER XIV
Another Fishing Excursion—Landing a Salmon—The Carriole—Boats rowed by Ladies—Departure from Larvig—Christiansand Harbour—Return to Boom—Sincere Welcome—Angling at the Falls—The Forsaken Angler—A Misunderstanding—Reconciliation—St. John's Day—Simplicity of Manners 260
CHAPTER XV.
Sailing up the Gron Fiord—Dangerous Swell—Excursion Ashore—Trout-Fishing—Mountain Scenery—Ant-Hills—Hazardous Drive—The Scottish Emigrant—Miserable Lodging—Condition of the Peasantry—A Village Patriarch—Costume of the Country People—Arrival at Fædde 287
CHAPTER XVI.
Return to the Yacht—Poor Jacko—Ascending the Stream—Description of the Fædde Fiord—Adventures of an Angler—Sail to the Bukke Fiord—The Fathomless Lake—The Maniac, and her History—The Village of Sand—Extraordinary Peculiarities of the Sand Salmon—Seal Hunting—Shooting Gulls—The Seal caught—Night in the North 303
CHAPTER XVII.
The Dangerous Straits—British Seamanship—The Glaciers of Folgefonde—Bergen—Habits of the Fishermen—The Sogne Fiord—Leerdal—Arrival at Auron—A Hospitable Host— Ascending the Mountains—The Two Shepherdesses—Hunting the Rein-Deer—Adventure on the Mountains—Slaughtering Deer—The Fawn 336
CHAPTER XVIII.[Pg viii]
The Sick Sailor—The Storm—The Lee-Shore—"Breakers a-head"—The Yacht in Distress—Weathering the Storm—Return to Bergen—The Physician—The Whirlpool—The Water-Spout—Homeward Bound—Scarborough—Yarmouth Roads—Erith— Greenwich Hospital—Conclusion 397





ERRATA.

Page
79, line 14, for "Nelson," read "Gambier."
92, omit "to the eye."
100, line 12, for "Nelson's," read "Gambier's."
145, last line, for "Braggesen," read "Baggesen."
165, line 31, for "they had endured," read "each of them had endured."
201, line 9, read "as here at Gottenborg."
239, line 33, for "immovably," read "immoveably."
243, line 6, for "jibbed," read "jibed."
286, line 18, for "everywhere," read "ever where."
327, line 10, for "than me," read "than I."
338, line 31, for "jibbing," read "jibing."

Page
79, line 14, replace "Nelson" with "Gambier."
92, omit "visually."
100, line 12, for "Nelson's," read "Gambier's."
145, last line, for "Braggesen," read "Baggesen."
165, line 31, change "they had endured" to "each of them had endured."
201, line 9, read "like it is here in Gothenburg."
239, line 33, for "immovably," read "immoveably."
243, line 6, for "jibbed," read "jibed."
286, line 18, for "everywhere," read "ever where."
327, line 10, for "than me," read "than I."
338, line 31, for "jibbing," read "jibing."





A YACHT VOYAGE

TO

NORWAY, SWEDEN, & DENMARK.





CHAPTER I.

DEPARTURE FROM GREENWICH—THE HISTORY OF THE IRIS YACHT—SHEERNESS—HARWICH—UNDER WEIGH—THE NORTH SEA—SAIL IN SIGHT—THE MAIL OVERBOARD—SPEAKING THE NORWEGIAN.

DEPARTURE FROM GREENWICH—THE HISTORY OF THE IRIS YACHT—SHEERNESS—HARWICH—UNDERWAY—THE NORTH SEA—SAIL IN SIGHT—THE MAIL OVERBOARD—SPEAKING TO THE NORWEGIAN.


I believe the old Italian proverb says, that every man, before he dies, should do three things: "Get a son, build a house, and write a book." Now, whether or not I am desirous, by beginning at the end, to end at the beginning of this quaint axiom, I leave the reader to conjecture. My book may afford amusement to him who will smile when I am glad, and sympathise with the impressions I have caught in other moods of mind; but I have little affinity of feeling, and less companionship with him who expects to see pictures of life coloured differently from those I have beheld.

I think the old Italian saying goes that every man, before he dies, should do three things: "Have a son, build a house, and write a book." Now, whether I want to start at the end to eventually go back to the beginning of this interesting idea is up to the reader to decide. My book might entertain those who smile when I’m happy and relate to the feelings I’ve experienced in different states of mind; however, I don’t really connect with those who expect to see a version of life that’s painted in a way different from what I’ve witnessed.

[Pg 2]At three o'clock on the boisterous afternoon of the 1st of May, 1847, I left Greenwich with my friend Lord R——, in his yacht, to cruise round the coasts of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden; and, although the period of the year at which I quitted London was the one I most desired to remain in it, and join, as far as I was able, in the pomps and gaieties of Old Babylon, I did not like to miss this opportunity, offered under such favourable circumstances, of seeing countries so rarely visited by Englishmen, more particularly as the invitation had been pressed upon me so unaffectedly and kindly, that I could not, with any reason, decline it.

[Pg 2]At three o'clock on the lively afternoon of May 1, 1847, I left Greenwich with my friend Lord R—— on his yacht to explore the coasts of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden. Even though I wanted to stay in London during this time, to participate as much as I could in the festivities and celebrations of Old Babylon, I felt I couldn’t pass up this chance to see places that are rarely visited by English people, especially since the invitation was given to me so genuinely and kindly that I had no reasonable grounds to decline.

Dropping down with the tide, we arrived the same evening alongside the guard-ship at Sheerness; and, being desirous of making ourselves snug, and of landing two unfortunate friends whom we had originally promised to send ashore at Gravesend, we made fast to a Government buoy, and remained in smooth water till the following morning.

Dropping down with the tide, we arrived that evening next to the guard ship at Sheerness; wanting to get comfortable and drop off two unfortunate friends we had originally promised to send ashore at Gravesend, we tied up to a Government buoy and stayed in calm water until the next morning.

The "Iris" cutter belongs to the R.Y.S., and is the sister-vessel of the "Corsair." She was built by Ratsey for the late Mr. Fleming, with whom she was a great favourite, and for whom she won many valuable prizes. From England to the Mediterranean, she safely bore her first master many times; but with flowing canvass and with rapid keel at last enticed him once too often from his native shore; for, during [Pg 3]a cruise in the Mediterranean, after many months of pain, he died while gazing on her. Passing through several hands, serving all equally well in gale or calm, she came at last into the possession of Lord R——, who has travelled farther, and made more extraordinary voyages in her than any member of the Squadron; and in spite of all improvements adopted of late years in yacht-building, there are but few, if any, vessels of seventy-five tons, that can surpass her in speed and symmetrical beauty, or in the buoyant ease with which she has encountered the fiercest storms.

The "Iris" cutter is part of the R.Y.S. and is the sister ship of the "Corsair." It was built by Ratsey for the late Mr. Fleming, who was very fond of it and won many valuable prizes with it. From England to the Mediterranean, it safely carried its first captain many times; however, with its billowing sails and swift hull, it eventually tempted him away from his homeland one too many times. During a cruise in the Mediterranean, after many months of suffering, he died while looking at her. After changing hands several times, performing equally well in both storms and calm seas, it eventually ended up with Lord R——, who has traveled farther and made more incredible voyages on her than any other member of the Squadron. Despite all the recent improvements in yacht design, there are very few, if any, vessels of seventy-five tons that can compete with her speed, elegant design, or the effortless way she has handled the fiercest storms.

Her crew consisted of seven or eight regular seamen, a sailing-master, mate, cook, steward, and a boy to assist him. A fine Newfoundland dog, called "Sailor," and a droll little ring-tail monkey, called "Jacko," also joined in the mess for'ard. Lord R——, with Captain P—— and myself, made up the entire complement.

Her crew was made up of seven or eight regular sailors, a captain, a first mate, a cook, a steward, and a boy to help him. A great Newfoundland dog named "Sailor" and a quirky little monkey named "Jacko" also joined us in the mess up front. Lord R——, Captain P——, and I made up the whole crew.

On Sunday morning, the 2nd, at eleven, as the church bells of Sheerness were chiming a merry peal, we commenced preparations for our departure, by sending our two friends off in the jolly-boat, in which they must have got pretty wet; for a sea was running sufficiently high to cause them some little discomfort. After a gloomy day's work, we reached Harwich, and at nine in the evening rested again in five fathoms water.

On Sunday morning, the 2nd, at eleven, as the church bells of Sheerness were ringing happily, we started getting ready to leave by sending our two friends off in the small boat, in which they must have gotten pretty wet; because the waves were high enough to make things a bit uncomfortable. After a long, dreary day of work, we got to Harwich, and at nine in the evening we settled down again in five fathoms of water.

[Pg 4]We rose betimes the following day, and strolled about the town in search of stores. We collected on board every kind of preserved meat and vegetable one could think of; and every kind of wine, from champagne down to cherry cordial, the taste of man could relish. We had milk, too, in pots, and mint for our peasoup; lard in bladders, and butter, both fresh and salt, in jars; flour, and suet, which we kept buried in the flour; a hundred stalks of horseradish for roast beef; and raisins, citron, and currants, for plum-pudding.

[Pg 4]We got up early the next day and wandered around the town looking for stores. We stocked up on every type of preserved meat and vegetable we could think of, and all kinds of wine, from champagne to cherry cordial, to suit any taste. We also had milk in containers, mint for our pea soup, lard in pouches, and both fresh and salted butter in jars; flour and suet, which we kept buried in the flour; a hundred stalks of horseradish for roast beef; and raisins, citron, and currants for plum pudding.

We had rifles and guns to shoot bears and wolves; and large rods, large as small maypoles, to catch salmon, and small rods to secure the bait. We had fishing-tackle which, when unwound, went all the way into the after cabin, and then back again ten times round the main cabin.

We had rifles and guns to hunt bears and wolves, and big rods, as tall as small maypoles, to catch salmon, along with small rods for securing bait. We had fishing gear that, when unwound, stretched all the way into the back cabin, then looped back ten times around the main cabin.

We had water-proof boots, reaching up to the hips, for wading the rivers; and India-rubber pilot-jackets for keeping the chest and back secure from the spray of foss, or wave. Indeed, we had all that the heart of man could wish, and all that his judgment could devise.

We had waterproof boots that went up to our hips for wading through rivers, and rubber pilot jackets to protect our chest and back from splashes or waves. Seriously, we had everything anyone could want and everything that made sense to have.

I contrived, before the day had passed, to become very sick of Harwich and myself; for of all dull holes in this kingdom of England, does not this one claim the superlative degree? Tuesday, the 4th, still found me on the same spot, gazing on the two lighthouses; and, to enhance my gaiety, R—— and [Pg 5]P—— went to Ipswich to see a schooner yacht, being built for an old friend of R—— and at that moment on the stocks. They returned laden with turnips, carrots, radishes, and cabbages. The luckless schooner was rated in great style—berths too numerous, and cabin not lofty enough. A fiddle also was bought to-day for Jerome, a sailor, who, though self-taught, had some idea of music and afterwards, wiled away, in Norway, and on the ocean, during the calm evenings, many a weary hour, by playing to us some of Old England's most plaintive airs.

I figured out, before the day was over, that I had become really sick of Harwich and myself; because out of all the boring places in England, doesn’t this one take the cake? Tuesday, the 4th, still had me in the same spot, staring at the two lighthouses; and to brighten my mood, R—— and [Pg 5]P—— went to Ipswich to check out a schooner yacht that was being built for an old friend of R—— and was currently under construction. They came back with a load of turnips, carrots, radishes, and cabbages. The unfortunate schooner was rated very highly—too many berths and not enough headroom in the cabin. A fiddle was also bought today for Jerome, a sailor who, despite being self-taught, had some musical talent and later spent many a calm evening in Norway and on the ocean, entertaining us with some of Old England's most sorrowful tunes.

The following day came and went in the same monotonous fashion as its predecessor, since I find its events recorded thus:—"Fine day—nothing new. Went ashore. Bought fish, mutton, and beef. Eat all the fish, and some of the beef. Wind E.S.E."

The next day passed just like the one before, and I recorded the events like this:—"Nice day—nothing new. Went ashore. Bought fish, lamb, and beef. Ate all the fish and some of the beef. Wind E.S.E."

Thursday dawned beautifully calm, and not a cloud was visible between earth and the blue Heaven. As I paced up and down the deck, yet damp with dew, I thought the serenity of the morning emblematic of our future wanderings—and was I wrong? As the sun gained altitude and power, the water became rippled with a light air, and nine o'clock found us fairly under weigh.

Thursday morning was beautifully calm, and there wasn't a cloud in sight between the earth and the blue sky. As I walked back and forth on the deck, still damp with dew, I thought the peacefulness of the morning symbolized our future travels—and was I wrong? As the sun rose higher and got stronger, the water became slightly choppy with a gentle breeze, and by nine o'clock, we were fully underway.

There was not a heavy heart on board; even Jacko chirupped, and, swinging by his tail from the bowsprit shroud, revelled in the warm sunshine. Being desirous of showing [Pg 6]the exuberance of our spirits, R——, who had observed an old dame and her maid plying in a wherry round the cutter—probably to take a nearer view of our beautiful craft and her adventurous crew, or, perhaps to breathe the morning air, I know not which—ordered the two quarter swivels to be loaded, and watching his opportunity, when the cautious wherry came rather near, fired both of them right over the old lady's black bonnet, and sent the wad fizzing and smoking into the servant-girl's lap. I need not describe the alarm of the old woman, nor the shriek of the young one; but the grin of the well-seasoned tar who rowed, coupled with his efforts to keep the fair freight quiet where he had stowed it, were worth our whole cargo.

There wasn't a heavy heart on board; even Jacko chirped, and, swinging by his tail from the bowsprit shroud, enjoyed the warm sunshine. Wanting to show [Pg 6] the excitement of our spirits, R——, who had spotted an old woman and her maid rowing in a small boat near the cutter—probably to get a closer look at our beautiful vessel and adventurous crew, or maybe just to enjoy the morning air, I can't say which—ordered the two quarter swivels to be loaded. He waited for the right moment, and when the cautious boat came close, he fired both of them right over the old lady's black bonnet, sending the wad fizzing and smoking into the maid's lap. I don't need to describe the old woman's shock or the young one's scream; but the grin of the seasoned sailor who rowed, along with his efforts to keep the lady calm where he had stowed her, was worth our whole cargo.

We shipped from this port a man named King, who was to act as interpreter. He had been in Norway, and was well acquainted with the people and language, having been for many previous years of his life employed in the lobster fisheries. He proved a most willing, honest, good-tempered servant, and a most useful linguist.

We set sail from this port with a man named King, who was going to serve as our interpreter. He had spent time in Norway and knew the people and language well, having worked in the lobster fisheries for many years before. He was a very willing, honest, and good-natured helper, and a really helpful linguist.

The wind being light, the Iris found it tough work in stemming the strong tide which sets into Harwich; but we contrived at half-past eleven to pass Orfordness Light. At six, the breeze having eastern'd a little, and increased till it became what sailors term "pleasant," we lost sight of Lowestoff; and [Pg 7]lastly, being this day's work, as well as for the information of all nautical men, we sounded at half-past seven on Smith's Knoll, in seven fathoms.

The wind was light, so the Iris had a hard time fighting against the strong tide coming into Harwich; however, we managed to pass Orfordness Light at half-past eleven. By six, the breeze had shifted to the east a bit and picked up until it became what sailors call "pleasant." We lost sight of Lowestoff, and [Pg 7] finally, as part of today’s journey and for the benefit of all sailors, we took soundings at half-past seven on Smith's Knoll in seven fathoms.

Friday morning, the 7th, dawned upon our glorious craft dashing through the water in great style, with a moderate breeze from S. to S.S.E. As I cast my eye round the horizon, and descried no land, thoughts of old days crowded to my recollection, when I left home for the first time, and England for the West Indies. How all the high hopes of youth had vanished; and how unaltered my condition now from what it was then! Had an angel come down from Heaven and told me, twelve years ago, when I, a boy, stood on the hencoop of a West Indiaman, gazing at the Lizard, that I should be the same creature in feeling and condition, I should have questioned the prophecy. But the wind is fair, and this is no time for sorrowful thoughts.

Friday morning, the 7th, arrived with our impressive ship racing through the water in style, with a light breeze blowing from S. to S.S.E. As I looked around the horizon and saw no land, memories of old times flooded back to me—when I left home for the first time and left England for the West Indies. How all the youthful hopes had faded; and how my situation is now unchanged from what it was then! If an angel had come down from Heaven and told me, twelve years ago, when I, a boy, stood on the hencoop of a West Indiaman, staring at the Lizard, that I would feel and be the same, I would have doubted the prophecy. But the wind is good, and this isn’t a time for sad thoughts.

"Hard-up the helm! Dick," said D——.

"Steady the helm! Dick," said D——.

"Ay, ay, sir."

"Yes, sir."

"Steady!—So."

"Hold on!—Okay."

"Steady, sir."

"Easy, sir."

"Some man there, heave the lead!" and down it went, rushing, in five-and-twenty fathoms on the Silver Pits. At nine, the vessel was hove to, and we tried our lines for fish, but did not succeed. We filled on her again, and stood away, as before, to the N.E. At two o'clock, while we were trying our lines [Pg 8]for the second time, I felt, suddenly, squeamish; and, in spite of the splendid weather and pure air, wished myself most heartily in the middle of Bond-street, or any, the most ignoble alley in the neighbourhood of Leicester-square. I closed my eyes and fancied myself seated on a bench in the Green Park, watching the sheep browsing round me, and listening to the rumbling of carriages as they passed along Piccadilly. I opened my eyes; the vision fades, and, lo!

"Some guy over there, throw the lead!" and down it went, plunging, in twenty-five fathoms at the Silver Pits. By nine, the ship was anchored, and we tried fishing, but had no luck. We refilled on her and set off again, heading northeast. At two o'clock, while we tried fishing for the second time, I suddenly felt queasy; and despite the fantastic weather and fresh air, I really wished I was back in the middle of Bond Street or even the most rundown alley around Leicester Square. I closed my eyes and imagined sitting on a bench in Green Park, watching the sheep grazing nearby, and listening to the sound of carriages rolling by on Piccadilly. I opened my eyes; the vision faded, and, look!

"Nil nisi pontus et aer."

"Nothing but sea and sky."

However, I plucked up courage, and remained on deck until half-past six, when the gaff-topsail was unbent and the top-mast struck; D——, the sailing-master, anticipating no good from the calm, and the dense fog, which had succeeded a fine wind and cheerful sunshine.

However, I gathered my courage and stayed on deck until 6:30, when the gaff-topsail was taken down and the top-mast was lowered. D——, the sailing master, expected nothing good from the calm and the thick fog that followed a nice breeze and bright sunshine.

Early in the morning, about four o'clock, I was awakened by a good deal of laughing and shuffling of feet on deck, and by an occasional thump, as if a cargo of pumpkins was being taken on board.

Early in the morning, around four o'clock, I was woken up by lots of laughing and footsteps on deck, and by a random thump, like a load of pumpkins was being loaded onto the ship.

I leaped out of my berth, and, putting my head above the companion, saw all the men who composed the watch hard at work with their fishing-lines, and the main-deck covered with several large codfish. Witnessing the pugnacity of one or two fish when they were hauled out of the water, I turned in again: for it was no easy matter to stand, the swell [Pg 9]increasing as we got more on the Dogger Bank.

I jumped out of my bunk and, poking my head up the companionway, saw all the crew on watch busy with their fishing lines, while the main deck was covered with several big cod. Watching a couple of the fish struggle when they were pulled out of the water, I went back inside. It was tough to stay standing since the swell [Pg 9] was getting worse as we moved further onto the Dogger Bank.

While we were at breakfast, eating cods' sound and talking of smoked salmon, the sailing-master came below and told us a small vessel was in sight, and, by running down to her, we might speak her and send letters home by her. Of course, all the married men commenced scratching in great style both paper and their pates, and in a shorter time than could be imagined, made up a small mail. The more strenuously, however, we endeavoured to approach the vessel, the more she bore away; and, being a long way to the eastward of us, and going before the wind with her square-sail set, it was doubtful whether we should fetch her. At last, we fancied she mistook us for pirates; for, I must confess, we looked suspicious; and the squadron ensign flying at the peak made our cutter appear more warlike and determined than she really was. By eleven, notwithstanding our friend's manœuvring, we were pretty close to her, and, lowering the dingy as quickly as possible, two men were ordered to pull to the strange smack, and, ascertaining her destination, to deliver the letters. This last action on our part took the poor craft by surprise; for it was curious to observe the pertinacity with which this little vessel avoided our boat, although we used every stratagem devised by seafaring men to allay the consternation of [Pg 10]the weak: such as the waving of our caps, the hoisting of pacific signals, the lowering of our gaff-topsail, &c., &c.; nor could she be persuaded of our amicable intentions before poor King had shouted, at the top of his lungs, that we were Englishmen in search of pleasure, and destined for no marauding purpose.

While we were having breakfast, eating cod sounds and discussing smoked salmon, the sailing master came below and told us there was a small vessel in sight. If we got close, we could talk to her and send letters home with her. Naturally, all the married guys started scrambling for paper and scratching their heads, and in no time at all, they put together a small mail. However, the harder we tried to get to the vessel, the more she moved away; since she was quite a distance to the east, sailing away from the wind with her square sail up, it was uncertain if we could reach her. Eventually, we thought she might have mistaken us for pirates; I must admit, we looked a bit suspicious, and the squadron flag flying at the top made our cutter seem more aggressive and determined than she actually was. By eleven, despite our friend's maneuvers, we were pretty close to her. We quickly lowered the dinghy, and two men were ordered to row to the unfamiliar vessel to find out her destination and deliver the letters. This last act took the poor boat by surprise; it was amusing to see how determined this little vessel was to avoid our boat, even though we used every trick sailors know to calm the fear of the weak, such as waving our hats, raising peace signals, lowering our gaff-topsail, etc. She couldn’t be convinced of our friendly intentions until poor King shouted at the top of his lungs that we were Englishmen looking for fun and had no intentions of raiding.

She turned out to be, what our glasses had anticipated at daylight, a Norwegian, laden with dried fish, and bound to the coast of Holland; and, therefore, our letters were brought back.

She turned out to be, just as our glasses had suggested in the daylight, a Norwegian, loaded with dried fish, and headed to the coast of Holland; and, as a result, our letters were returned.

Scarcely had the incident I have just mentioned come to a conclusion, than another sail, just emerging from the horizon, was discovered on our weather bow. We rubbed our hands, plucked our caps over the forehead, and walked up and down the deck more briskly than ever; for there is no man who has not been to sea can imagine the feelings of sailors when, far from land, a sail is seen.

Scarcely had the incident I have just mentioned come to a conclusion, than another sail, just emerging from the horizon, was discovered on our weather bow. We rubbed our hands, pulled our caps down over our foreheads, and walked up and down the deck more briskly than ever; for there is no man who has not been to sea can imagine the feelings of sailors when, far from land, a sail is seen.

Every minute now brought us closer, and at two P.M. we had come within hail. There was little wind, but a nasty short sea was running; and it was comical in the extreme to observe each man endeavouring to steady himself, and place his hands to his mouth for the purpose of hailing, when a sudden swell would send him rolling over Sailor's hutch, or seat him gently on the sky-light behind. After a little trouble, the speaking-trumpet was found and brought on deck, and by its assistance a [Pg 11]communication was opened with the vessel. She was a large Norwegian bark from Christiansand, and bound to London. To our request that they would take charge of some letters, the captain, leaning over the weather-quarter, assented in a loud Norwegian dialect. The question which now arose was, how were we to get the said letters on board; but necessity, being here established as the mother of invention, gave a prompt answer. P——, holding the letters in his hand, desired that a potato might be brought. The largest from the store was presented. It was then lashed with a piece of twine to the letters, now transposed into a tidy brown-paper parcel, which P——, balancing in the palm of his left hand, suggested was not of sufficient weight to reach the ship. We were not long at a loss, for the cook appeared, grim and smiling, with a tolerable-sized coal exposed to view and approbation, between his thumb and forefinger. Side by side, like a fair-haired youth with his swarthy bride, the coal and potato were placed; and P——, poising for the second time the precious parcel, rolled up his shirt-sleeve, and, throwing himself well back, hurled, with all the elegance of a Parthian, coal, potato, and parcel toward the Norwegian captain's head. But, horror! the potato and coal combined proved rather too heavy, and, retaining their impetus longer than intended, carried the luckless brown-paper bundle over the lee-side and into the North Sea.

Every minute brought us closer, and at two P.M. we were within shouting distance. The wind was light, but there were some nasty short waves; it was hilarious to see each man trying to steady himself and cup his hands to his mouth to call out, while a sudden swell would send him tumbling over Sailor's hutch or gently seating him on the skylight behind. After a bit of searching, they found the speaking trumpet and brought it on deck, allowing us to open a [Pg 11]communication with the ship. She was a large Norwegian bark from Christiansand, headed for London. When we asked if they could take some letters, the captain leaned over the weather side and agreed in a loud Norwegian accent. The next question was how to get those letters on board; however, necessity, being the mother of invention, provided a quick solution. P——, holding the letters, asked for a potato to be brought. They handed him the largest one from the store. He then tied it with some twine to the letters, which he had neatly packaged in brown paper. Balancing it in his left hand, P—— suggested it didn’t weigh enough to reach the ship. We soon figured it out, as the cook showed up, grinning with a decent-sized piece of coal between his thumb and forefinger. The coal and potato were placed side by side, like a fair-haired youth with his dark bride, and P——, balancing the precious parcel for a second time, rolled up his shirt sleeve. Leaning back, he threw the coal, potato, and parcel with all the grace of a Parthian toward the Norwegian captain's head. But, to our horror, the potato and coal together were too heavy, and they retained their momentum longer than planned, sending the unfortunate brown paper bundle over the side and into the North Sea.

[Pg 12]The ship immediately backed her main-yard, and, lowering one of her stern boats, sent her off in search of the unhappy letters; but having rowed about for some time without catching a glimpse of coal, paper, or potato, the search was abandoned, and the boat came alongside of us. After delivering another packet of brown paper, and presenting each man (there were four) with a bottle of brandy, we parted company with mutual good wishes conveyed through our interpreter, King, not omitting sundry well-meaning gesticulations telegraphed between the fat Norwegian captain on the weather quarter and ourselves. This was the first specimen we had met with of northern kindness; and, although we had heard a great deal of their unaffected goodness of heart, this act of civility made no slight impression upon us. At four o'clock, while our Norwegian bark was just hull down, the gaff-topsail was taken in, a strong S.E. wind with rain having arisen. The wind still increasing, at seven the first reef in the mainsail was also taken in, jibs shifted, and the bowsprit reefed.

[Pg 12]The ship quickly adjusted her main yard and lowered one of her stern boats to look for the lost letters. After rowing around for a while without spotting any coal, paper, or potatoes, the search was called off, and the boat returned to us. After delivering another bundle of brown paper and giving each of the four men a bottle of brandy, we parted ways with good wishes relayed through our interpreter, King, not forgetting several friendly hand signals exchanged between the chubby Norwegian captain on the weather side and us. This was the first example we had encountered of northern kindness; although we had heard a lot about their genuine goodwill, this gesture of courtesy left a strong impression on us. At four o'clock, as our Norwegian ship was just hull down, we took in the gaff-topsail with a strong southeast wind and rain picking up. With the wind continuing to rise, at seven o’clock we also took the first reef in the mainsail, shifted the jibs, and reefed the bowsprit.

During the rest of the evening I was a martyr to all the miseries of sea-sickness, and, stretched at full length on the cabin sofa, I closed my eyes, and, allowing my thoughts to wander where they would, hoped to cheat myself out of my present discomfort; but nausea, like no other ill to which we are subservient, is not to be pacified, and I lay the whole night sensible of the keenest pain.

During the rest of the evening, I suffered through all the misery of seasickness. Lying flat on the cabin sofa, I closed my eyes and let my thoughts drift, hoping to distract myself from my discomfort. But nausea, like no other suffering we endure, can't be silenced, and I spent the entire night aware of the sharpest pain.







CHAPTER II.

FOGGY WEATHER—FIRST VIEW OF NORWAY—CHRISTIANSAND FIORD—ARRIVAL AT CHRISTIANSAND—DESCRIPTION OF THE TOWN—THE TOPTDAL RIVER—EXCURSION INLAND—THE ENTHUSIASTIC ANGLER—RUSTIC LODGINGS—HUNTING THE BEAR—THE TRAP—THE DEATH—NORWEGIAN LIBERALITY.

FOGGY WEATHER—FIRST VIEW OF NORWAY—CHRISTIANSAND FIORD—ARRIVAL AT CHRISTIANSAND—DESCRIPTION OF THE TOWN—THE TOPTDAL RIVER—EXCURSION INLAND—THE ENTHUSIASTIC FISHERMAN—RUSTIC ACCOMMODATIONS—HUNTING THE BEAR—THE TRAP—THE DEATH—NORWEGIAN GENEROSITY.


Sunday, the 9th, dawned on us, tossed about on a troubled sea indeed; for a strong wind was blowing from E.S.E. However, at eight o'clock, just before breakfast, we sounded in thirty-five fathoms. We had scarcely concluded this cautious operation before the wind began to lull; and after conjecturing, both from our calculations and soundings, that land was not far away, we were confirmed in this opinion by a thick fog rising above the horizon on our lee beam. We went to dinner in great glee, and, in spite of the hazy atmosphere which now surrounded us, compensation was felt and accepted by us at the hour of six, when a perfect calm prevailed; and our peasoup and curry were threatened, for the first time this week, to be demolished in that gentlemanly and collected mode which the usages [Pg 14]of society had rendered familiar to our observation in England.

Sunday, the 9th, greeted us while we were tossed around on a pretty rough sea; a strong wind was blowing from the E.S.E. However, at eight o'clock, just before breakfast, we took soundings in thirty-five fathoms. We had barely finished this careful task when the wind started to calm down; and after guessing from our calculations and soundings that land was nearby, we confirmed this belief when a thick fog appeared on our lee beam. We went to lunch in high spirits, and despite the hazy atmosphere surrounding us, we felt a sense of relief when, at six o'clock, there was perfect calm; and our pea soup and curry were, for the first time this week, at risk of being enjoyed in that refined and composed manner which the customs [Pg 14]of society had made familiar to us back in England.

At eleven o'clock at night the haziness cleared away, and in about half an hour afterwards a light was seen. It was imagined to be the light at the mouth of the Christiansand Fiord, the name of which, amidst the bustle and joyousness of the moment, I could but indistinctly learn, and cannot now remember. As midnight approached, our old friend the fog gathered density, and effectually deprived us of the slightest glimpse of the light; and we retired to rest ill at ease, plunged into the vale of anxiety in the same ratio as we had been exalted on the peaks of expectation and joy.

At eleven o'clock at night, the haze cleared up, and about half an hour later, a light appeared. We thought it was the light at the entrance of the Christiansand Fiord, the name of which I could barely make out amid the excitement and joy of the moment, and can't remember now. As midnight approached, our old friend, the fog, thickened and completely blocked our view of the light; so we went to bed feeling uneasy, buried in anxiety just as we had been lifted up by our high hopes and joy.

Sunday at sea retains all the monotony of the shore; for the waves seem to show deference to the day, and move their crests with more solemnity and order; while the sailors gather round the vessel's bows, and, in a group, listen with wrapt attention to the sublime and poetic sentences of prophetic Isaiah.

Sunday at sea has all the dullness of being on land; the waves seem to respect the day, moving their crests with more seriousness and order. Meanwhile, the sailors gather at the front of the ship, listening intently to the profound and poetic words of the prophet Isaiah.

I cannot, in all my wanderings at sea, call to mind a tempestuous Sabbath, nor the sailors who would profane it. Mark them! How solemnly the shadow of thought hangs over their countenances; and how, with cheek cradled on the hand, with pipes unsmoked in their mouths, leaning over the bulwarks, their eyes intently riveted on the clear distant horizon, as, carried away by the inspiration and fervour of the great prophet, a messmate, [Pg 15]who reads with energy of gesture, ever and anon raises his voice, which, by its tremulous intonation, tells the deep feeling of his heart, and the quickness with which its pulse vibrates in answer to the burning words he utters aloud!

I can't remember a stormy Sunday at sea, nor the sailors who would disrespect it. Look at them! How seriously the weight of thought rests on their faces; and how, with their cheek resting on their hand, with unlit pipes in their mouths, leaning over the railing, their eyes fixed on the clear distant horizon, as inspired and passionate as the great prophet, a shipmate, [Pg 15] who reads with energetic gestures, occasionally raises his voice, which, through its shaky tone, reveals the deep emotions in his heart and the quick beat of its pulse responding to the powerful words he speaks aloud!

Monday, the 10th, the most lovely of May mornings, fanned by the softest of south winds. Land in all its grandeur of mountain and of cloud lay before me, the towering peaks of the mountains, capped with everlasting snow, and piercing an atmosphere of the intensest blue.

Monday, the 10th, the most beautiful morning in May, was gently stirred by the softest southern breeze. The land, in all its glory of mountains and clouds, stretched out before me, with the towering peaks capped in eternal snow, reaching up into the deepest blue sky.

I sat down on the after-lockers, and looked with swelling heart on the sublime scene. As far as the eye could reach inland, mountain over mountain, extending round half the horizon, the land of old Norway, I had read of in my earliest years, expanded itself. On my left hand the Naze hung, frowning, over the Northern Ocean. How memory, in a moment, rushed back to the quaint schoolroom at Ditton, and its still quainter little bookcases huddled up in one corner, where and whence I first began to pronounce and find the "Lindsnes!"

I sat down on the after-lockers and gazed with a full heart at the breathtaking scene. As far as I could see inland, mountain after mountain stretched out, wrapping around half the horizon—the land of old Norway that I had read about in my early years. To my left, the Naze loomed menacingly over the Northern Ocean. In an instant, memories flooded back to the quirky classroom at Ditton, with its even quirkier little bookcases crammed into one corner, where I first started to say and discover the "Lindsnes!"

Just at this instant, poor old "Sailor," who had been poking his nose over the vessel's side, and snuffing and whining, rushed up to me, and, placing his head in my lap, turned his eyes towards my face, and looked as much as to say, "Are we not near our journey's end; and don't I smell the land?" Little Jacko, too, came out of his crib, and chirped, and [Pg 16]chattered, and scratched himself, and rolled about on the deck in the sunniest corners; and then, all of a sudden, up he would jump, and, seizing hold of "Sailor's" tail, pull it as if he was hauling taut the weather runner. How everything was replete with life; and how happiness, without the heart's reservation, was written on every face! I cannot conceive anything more exhilarating than a beautiful morning at sea, and land in sight; I could have passed the remaining portion of my life without a pang of sorrow, or a gush of joy, but with equanimity, on this dark blue wave, surpassed only in its dark dye and eternity by the dome on which it looked.

Just then, poor old "Sailor," who had been sniffing around the side of the boat, came rushing up to me. He rested his head in my lap and looked up at me as if to say, "Are we almost there? Can you smell the land?" Little Jacko also climbed out of his crib, chirping and chattering, scratching himself, and rolling around on the deck in the sunniest spots. Then, all of a sudden, he would jump up, grab "Sailor's" tail, and pull it as if he were tightening a rope. Everything was full of life, and pure happiness was evident on every face! I can't think of anything more uplifting than a beautiful morning at sea with land in sight; I could have spent the rest of my life on this dark blue wave, feeling neither sorrow nor extreme joy, just calmness, with the vastness of the sea only matched by the sky above.

When I returned upon deck after breakfast, the first object that attracted my attention was the helmsman. He smiled as soon as his eye met mine, and raised, in recognition, his Spanish-looking hat. He was a stout, tall, fair-complexioned man, with a mild expression of countenance, blue eyes, a long, straight-pointed nose, high cheekbones, and light flaxen hair flowing down almost to his shoulders. He made some observation to me in a dialect which sounded as being a mixture of German, Celtic, and English; but the sense of it was incomprehensible.

When I got back on deck after breakfast, the first thing that caught my eye was the helmsman. He smiled as soon as he saw me and tipped his Spanish-style hat in greeting. He was a tall, stout guy with a fair complexion, a gentle expression, blue eyes, a long straight nose, high cheekbones, and light blonde hair that nearly reached his shoulders. He said something to me in a dialect that sounded like a mix of German, Celtic, and English, but I couldn't understand it at all.

"Norway?" I said in reply, pointing to the land now not three miles from us.

"Norway?" I said in response, pointing to the land that was now less than three miles away from us.

"Ja, ja," he answered; and, turning to King, our interpreter, begged, in the [Pg 17]Norwegian language, that some of the sails might be trimmed.

"Yeah, yeah," he replied; and, turning to King, our interpreter, he requested, in the [Pg 17]Norwegian language, that some of the sails be adjusted.

I need not say he was the pilot who had come on board to take us up to Christiansand. His dress differed not from the ordinary costume of our own pilots; but I could not help gazing on him with a feeling of mystery and interest which cannot easily be described. His whole appearance bore a close resemblance to all I had read and seen in pictures of the Esquimaux; and now I have formed their acquaintance personally, I feel assured that the Norwegians are a branch of that family.

I don't need to mention that he was the pilot who came on board to take us to Christiansand. His outfit was just like that of our own pilots, but I couldn't help but stare at him with a sense of mystery and curiosity that’s hard to describe. He looked a lot like what I had read about and seen in pictures of the Eskimos; and now that I've met them in person, I'm convinced that the Norwegians are part of that family.

The scenery, the nearer we approached the shore, heightened in grandeur. Though we were now not a mile from the most bold and formidable rocks, no harbour or creek of any kind could be seen where we might find shelter; yet our northern guide continued to point out with his finger and explain as well as he could in his strange but harmonious idiom, the mouth of the Fiord, up which we were to proceed to Christiansand.

The scenery became even more impressive as we got closer to the shore. Although we were now less than a mile from the steep and intimidating cliffs, there was no harbor or cove in sight where we could take shelter; still, our northern guide kept pointing and explaining as best he could in his unique but melodic language, the entrance to the Fiord, where we were to head toward Christiansand.

The rocks along this coast of Norway are terrific, the sea breaking and rushing upon them with tremendous noise and fury. Nor do the waves ever rest peaceably here: for the tides of the North Sea and of the Cattegat both meet together at this point of the "Sleeve," and cause a fearful swell, which, when aided at times by the wind, rises to such [Pg 18]a great height that vessels are obliged to run for protection into some of the smaller fiords abounding in this quarter.

The rocks along this coast of Norway are impressive, with the sea crashing against them with loud noise and fury. The waves never settle down here either: the tides from the North Sea and the Kattegat converge at this point of the "Sleeve," creating a dangerous swell that, when sometimes boosted by the wind, rises to such [Pg 18] a great height that ships have to seek shelter in some of the smaller fjords in this area.

It was now mid-day, and the sun shone with more heat than I had felt in the tropics. Indeed, everything around us reminded one so vividly of a tropical climate, that it required some resolution to keep imagination in subserviency. The thermometer was at 80 on deck; and our good-tempered pilot told us it was "manga varm" in August.

It was now noon, and the sun was shining hotter than I had experienced in the tropics. Everything around us reminded me so strongly of a tropical environment that it took some effort to keep my imagination in check. The temperature was 80 degrees on deck, and our friendly pilot told us it was "really warm" in August.

At one o'clock, the gallant Iris might be seen gliding along, with her accustomed speed and elegance, in smooth water, up the Christiansand Fiord. As we sailed along we would now and then catch a glimpse of large and small vessels in all directions, in full sail, wending their way through the tributary fiords to some town in the interior. On each side of us rose from the surface of the water, perpendicularly into the clear sky, mountains of solid stone, covered to their very summits with no other vegetation than the fir, which springs out of the crevices of the rocks. We pursued our course for many miles amidst the grandest scenery, changing like a panorama, at every point of land round which the vessel wound, and amidst the most profound silence, which is a peculiarity of these fiords. Ever and anon the gulls, in flocks of thousands, would soar into the air, only the flapping of their wings echoing through these silent mountains.

At one o'clock, the impressive Iris could be seen smoothly gliding along, with her usual speed and grace, in the calm water of the Christiansand Fjord. As we sailed along, we would occasionally catch sight of large and small vessels everywhere, fully rigged, making their way through the side fjords to some town farther inland. On either side of us, steep mountains of solid rock rose straight up into the clear sky, with no vegetation on them except for fir trees sprouting from the cracks in the rocks. We continued our journey for many miles through the most stunning scenery, changing like a moving picture at every point of land the ship rounded, all in a deep silence that is typical of these fjords. Every now and then, flocks of thousands of gulls would soar into the air, their wings flapping creating echoes through these silent mountains.

[Pg 19]At three o'clock, as we sailed round an enormous rock about a mile high, with not a tree or shrub of any sort on its surface, the town of Christiansand burst upon the view.

[Pg 19]At three o'clock, as we sailed around a massive rock about a mile high, with no trees or bushes anywhere on it, the town of Christiansand came into view.

We had no sooner anchored, and the sails were not yet furled, when Captain P——, who was an inveterate sportsman, went ashore to gather what intelligence he could about the salmon fishing, it being for that amusement Lord R—— had been induced to visit Norway.

We had barely anchored, and the sails weren’t even furled yet, when Captain P——, who was an avid sportsman, went ashore to find out what he could about the salmon fishing, since that was the reason Lord R—— had been persuaded to visit Norway.

During the absence of P——, R—— and I lay down on the deck, and feasted our eyes with the beautiful prospect around us. The novelty of every object which met the view acted in broad contrast to England. The cutter was soon surrounded by boats without number, of the most primitive construction and fantastic form. One old man, wearing a bear's-skin cap and a black frock coat, rowed off to us in the family "pram," for the purpose of recommending his hotel to our notice, the cleanliness and comfort of which, he said, were unquestionable; since, to test the verity of his assertions, he handed to us a piece of paper, not larger than the palm of my hand, containing the names of those persons who had lodged under his roof; and the Earl of Selkirk, Sir John Ross, Sir Hyde Parker, and one or two other eminent men stood in bold relief and large Norwegian type. This was the only deed approximating to British we had yet witnessed.

During P——'s absence, R—— and I lay down on the deck and took in the stunning scenery around us. Everything we saw was a refreshing change from England. The cutter was soon surrounded by countless boats, all crafted in the simplest and most unusual designs. An old man, wearing a bear-skin cap and a black coat, rowed over to us in a little family boat to recommend his hotel. He claimed it was very clean and comfortable, and to prove it, he handed us a piece of paper no bigger than my hand listing the names of guests who had stayed with him. The Earl of Selkirk, Sir John Ross, Sir Hyde Parker, and a few other notable figures were prominently featured in large, bold Norwegian type. This was the closest thing to a British experience we had encountered so far.

Christiansand is considered as a tolerably [Pg 20]important town, and is about half the extent of Dover. The houses are all painted a pure white colour, which has a fine effect when brought so immediately in contrast with the surrounding scenery. There being no ebb or flow of the sea in this part of the earth, no beach exists, and the houses are built on piles close to the water's edge, ships of 500 or 600 tons being moored at the very doors of the warehouses.

Christiansand is seen as a fairly [Pg 20]important town, about half the size of Dover. The houses are all painted bright white, which looks great against the surrounding landscape. Since there's no tide in this area, there isn't a beach, and the houses are built on stilts right by the water’s edge, with ships weighing 500 to 600 tons moored just outside the warehouses.

I could discover only one church within the precincts of Christiansand, and close to it a dancing academy; for the Norwegians, though they are pious, are as partial to the recreation of a dance as any of our Gallic neighbours; and, during the long and dark days of winter, the merchants and other persons employed in business of any description, close their offices, and devote their time to sleighing and dancing. The town is clean and romantically situated, being girt on the E. and the S. by the picturesque fiord, dotted with islands, which bears its name, and on the N. and W. by mountains rising one above the other until the eye loses them in the mist of distance.

I could only find one church in the area of Christiansand, and nearby there was a dance academy; because the Norwegians, while religious, enjoy dancing just as much as our French neighbors do. During the long, dark winter days, merchants and others in various kinds of business close their offices and spend their time sleighing and dancing. The town is clean and beautifully located, bordered on the east and south by the picturesque fjord, dotted with islands that share its name, and on the north and west by mountains rising one after another until they disappear in the misty distance.

The sun had already sunk beyond the mountains, when P—— returned on board; and, near as the day seemed to its end, it was determined to start for the Toptdal River, and proceed as far as Boom, a small village about twelve miles from Christiansand, where a merchant of some note had granted us permission to fish.

The sun had already set behind the mountains when P—— came back on board; and although the day seemed close to ending, it was decided to head for the Toptdal River and go as far as Boom, a small village about twelve miles from Christiansand, where a well-known merchant had given us permission to fish.

[Pg 21]Fishing-rods and fishing-books, and gaffs, and landing-nets, and everything piscatory, were pulled from their cupboards and packed up, that is to say, tied together in three distinct bundles by the mate; and the steward removed from the custody of the cook a large iron pot, which he filled with potatoes, as well as a smaller copper pot for stewing, but which, for the present, received a mustard-pot, some salt in paper, some black pepper, three teaspoons, and a similar number of knives and forks. A good-sized game-basket, cocked hat in shape, was then, after a diligent search, found, brought forth, and replenished with biscuits (for we had not, and could not buy, any bread), three pots of preserved meats, three bottles of champagne, the same of claret, one bottle of brandy, one of Twining's chocolate tin cases filled with tea, both green and black, and a like, though larger, one concealed from the inquisitive gaze some white sugar.

[Pg 21]Fishing rods, fishing books, gaffs, landing nets, and everything related to fishing were pulled from the cupboards and packed up—specifically, tied up into three separate bundles by the mate. The steward took a large iron pot from the cook’s area and filled it with potatoes, along with a smaller copper pot for stewing, which at the moment held a mustard jar, some paper-wrapped salt, black pepper, three teaspoons, and three knives and forks. After a thorough search, a good-sized game basket shaped like a cocked hat was found, filled with biscuits (since we didn’t have and couldn’t buy any bread), three jars of preserved meat, three bottles of champagne, three bottles of claret, one bottle of brandy, and a larger tin of Twinings chocolate that contained both green and black tea, along with a larger hidden container of white sugar.

About six o'clock, these items were stowed at the bottom of the gig, under the immediate superintendence of the steward, and the men, with their oars raised aloft in the air, showed all was prepared to convey us on our excursion. After taking leave of one or two Norwegian gentlemen who had come on board to welcome us, with their characteristic kindheartedness, to their country, and, with their usual unaffected hospitality, to invite us to dine with them, we started.

About six o'clock, these items were stored at the bottom of the boat, under the watchful eye of the steward, and the crew, with their oars raised high in the air, showed that everything was ready to take us on our trip. After saying goodbye to a couple of Norwegian gentlemen who came aboard to warmly welcome us to their country and, with their usual genuine hospitality, invite us to dinner with them, we set off.

[Pg 22]We had proceeded some distance when P——, after lighting his meerschaum, and looking the ideal of comfort and delight, commenced rummaging the baggage of pots and baskets; and he had not given up his energies to that occupation more than a few seconds when his pipe almost dropped, paralyzed, from his mouth, and, with much vehemence of manner and voice, he exclaimed,

[Pg 22]We had walked for a while when P——, after lighting his meerschaum and looking perfectly relaxed and happy, started going through the bags of pots and baskets. He had barely been at it for a few seconds when his pipe nearly fell, frozen in shock, from his mouth, and, with a lot of intensity in both manner and voice, he exclaimed,

"Hang that fellow! Just like him; he has forgotten the pot."

"Hang that guy! Just like him; he has forgotten the pot."

"What pot?" said R——.

"What pot?" said R.

"Why, the copper one, of course," retorted P——. "The knives and forks are in it, and the tea and sugar."

"Of course, the copper one," P—— replied. "The knives and forks are in there, along with the tea and sugar."

"Avast pulling!" said the Coxswain.

"Stop pulling!" said the Coxswain.

"We must go back," said R——.

"We need to go back," said R——.

"Very good, my Lord. Easy, starboard oars," again said the Coxswain; and in a quarter of an hour, we were taking the copper kettle into the gig, which P—— placed quietly away, within his reach and sight, in the stern sheets.

"Very good, my Lord. Easy, starboard oars," the Coxswain said again; and in about fifteen minutes, we were loading the copper kettle into the gig, which P—— placed safely out of the way, but still within his reach and sight, in the back seats.

As we rowed on, our fingers (bringing to my recollection my school-days) would occasionally be thrust over the boat's side into the water to test its temperature; for it had been hinted to P—— at Christiansand, that the rivers might yet be too cold for the salmon to leave the sea and enter them.

As we rowed along, my fingers (reminding me of my school days) would sometimes dip over the side of the boat into the water to check its temperature; it had been suggested to P—— at Christiansand that the rivers might still be too cold for the salmon to leave the sea and swim into them.

The Toptdal River is narrow, shallow, and swift of current; so that it is no facile task to [Pg 23]contend with its rapidity and force. When we had proceeded about half-way, the boat and its crew were left to contend with the stream, and we commenced walking.

The Toptdal River is narrow, shallow, and has a fast current, so it’s not easy to [Pg 23] deal with its speed and strength. After we’d gone about halfway, we left the boat and its crew to handle the river, and we started walking.

It was now seven o'clock; and, though we were sheltered from the sun's rays by the huge mountain-shadows, the air was warm, and I felt in a short time as greatly fatigued as if it were a dog-day in England.

It was now seven o'clock, and even though we were protected from the sun's rays by the massive shadows of the mountains, the air was warm, and I quickly felt just as worn out as if it were a hot summer day back in England.

P——, who, as I said before, was excessively fond of fishing, led the van; and, as we toiled along the bank of the river, would, himself insensible of weariness, scramble down declivities to its edge whenever the projecting rocks formed a kind of pool, and, scrambling up to us again, would assert with emphasis, the convincing proofs the river showed of containing much fish. He would, likewise, plunge his hand into the tide, and deem it temperate in the extreme.

P——, who, as I mentioned earlier, loved fishing way too much, took the lead; and as we trudged along the riverbank, he would, completely unaware of his fatigue, climb down slopes to the water's edge whenever the jutting rocks created a type of pool. Then, after scrambling back up to us, he would insist emphatically that the river clearly held plenty of fish. He would also dip his hand into the current and declare it extremely pleasant.

"There now," he said, as we turned a point of land, and saw below us a small bay formed by the indentation of the river,—"there now; do you mean to say there's no fish there?"

"There we go," he said, as we rounded a bend in the land and saw a small bay created by the river's curve below us, "do you really think there aren't any fish there?"

"I should think there were a great many," replied R——.

"I would think there were a lot," replied R——.

The river flowed on, and brought on its surface the foam of some neighbouring foss, floating unbroken in small lumps like soap-suds; which, borne by the eddying stream, revolved round and round a piece of fallen rock elevated a little above the water. P——, with the [Pg 24]eye of a fisherman, gazed on the little bay; and it was with difficulty we could dissuade him from putting his rod together and having a cast. However, we did eventually dissuade him; but he had barely gone on in front, with his usual velocity of motion, when, at the suggestion of R——, I hurled a good-sized stone into the centre of the pool which had so riveted P——'s fancy.

The river flowed on, carrying foam on its surface from a nearby shallow area, floating in small clumps like soap suds. The swirling stream made the foam spin around a piece of fallen rock that jutted slightly above the water. P——, with the keen eye of a fisherman, looked at the little bay, and we had a hard time convincing him not to set up his fishing rod and take a shot. In the end, we managed to talk him out of it, but just as he moved ahead with his usual speed, I tossed a good-sized rock into the middle of the pool that had caught P——'s attention at R——'s suggestion.

"By Jove!" he shouted, and, starting back, "did you hear that? It was a rise. Holloa!" and he hailed the boat which was struggling against the stream on the opposite bank. He seemed now determined to throw a fly; but the night was so near at hand, and Boom was yet so distant, that we exhorted him to mark the spot for our return on the following day.

"By Jove!" he shouted, stepping back, "did you hear that? It was a rise. Hey!" and he called out to the boat that was fighting against the current on the other side of the bank. He seemed set on casting a fly; but with night approaching and Boom still so far away, we urged him to note the spot for our return the next day.

"Why, my dear fellow, in two minutes I shall have a bite. Walk on, I'll follow."

"Why, my friend, in two minutes I’ll grab a bite to eat. Go ahead, I’ll catch up."

"No, no;" and, after a little consideration, he assented to what we said.

"No, no;" and, after thinking it over for a bit, he agreed with what we said.

The stars now began to show themselves, and shone forth with great brilliancy in the deep blue Heaven. The roar of the first foss, or fall, where we intended to fish, could be heard distinctly; and, about ten o'clock, we arrived at Boom.

The stars started to appear and twinkled brightly in the deep blue sky. We could clearly hear the roar of the first waterfall, where we planned to fish, and around ten o'clock, we reached Boom.

We presented, on our arrival, a letter our merchant friend had written to an old and confidential servant, to whose care he recommended us, and desired that every facility should be afforded us in the attainment of [Pg 25]our sport. Although it was almost dark, we walked about with the old Norwegian, who, in order to obtain our kind thoughts and inclinations, told us, that he had, in his youth, been apprenticed to a carpenter at Hull. He spoke English sufficiently well to understand what we said, and make himself understood by us.

When we arrived, we handed over a letter from our merchant friend addressed to an old and trusted servant, who he had asked to look after us and ensure we had all the help we needed to enjoy our time. Even though it was getting dark, we strolled around with the old Norwegian, who, to win our favor, shared that he had been an apprentice carpenter in Hull during his youth. He spoke English well enough to understand us and communicate effectively.

The first check P—— received to his ardour, was the Norwegian's assertion, that the river was still too cold for angling; and that no salmon had yet been seen or caught in the neighbourhood. He then recommended us to leave Norway and go to Copenhagen, or some other capital in the south, and enjoy ourselves until the snows in the interior had melted, and return to Christiansand about the end of the first week in June, when he guaranteed we should have salmon-fishing in all its phases to our heart's content.

The first blow to P——’s enthusiasm was the Norwegian's claim that the river was still too cold for fishing, and that no salmon had been spotted or caught in the area. He then suggested that we leave Norway and head to Copenhagen or another southern city to have some fun until the snow in the interior melted. He assured us that we could return to Christiansand by the end of the first week in June, when he promised we'd have plenty of salmon fishing to enjoy.

After a slight allusion to the letter we had delivered to him, and which he still held crumpled and soiled in his hand, he said, that his master's house was being painted, and he could not accommodate us as he had been commanded; but, if we had no objection, he would lodge us for the night at a cottage hard by. Many Englishmen, he added, had slept there, and found the people to whom it belonged, clean, attentive, and honest. We replied, that we were content and wearied enough to rest any where, and were prepared to take in good part any abode he could offer us for the night.

After briefly mentioning the letter we had given him, which he still held crumpled and dirty in his hand, he said that his master’s house was being painted and he couldn’t host us as directed. However, if we didn’t mind, he could arrange for us to stay overnight at a nearby cottage. He added that many Englishmen had stayed there and found the owners to be clean, attentive, and honest. We responded that we were fine with that and too tired to be particular about where we rested, so we were ready to accept any place he could provide for the night.

[Pg 26]We strolled on; and, in a few minutes, a cottage, with thatched roof, and standing lonelily at the base of one of the high mountains, by which we were surrounded, loomed through the grey tint of evening.

[Pg 26]We walked on, and in a few minutes, a cottage with a thatched roof appeared, standing alone at the foot of one of the tall mountains that surrounded us, emerging through the gray hues of evening.

Its outward appearance at first, I must confess, staggered my sense of comfort and cleanliness very wonderfully; and its internal arrangements did not at all help to quiet my apprehensions. In one corner of the room into which we were shown, stood a bedstead. Implements of cookery were scattered negligently about the floor, and on a huge hob bubbled a huge saucepan. The presence of salt-herrings and other dried fish, the common Norwegian diet, could, by no art, be concealed. The ceiling was so low, that I could hardly stand upright with my hat on; and the floor being strewed with juniper leaves, the smell of which, though not ungrateful in itself, aided by the villainous compound of stale tobacco smoke, in no way prepossessed me in favour of the cottager's nicety; and, finally, to consummate the discomfort, the small windows were closed as tightly as a coffin, while the evening teemed with all the sultriness of an oriental latitude.

Its outward appearance at first honestly shocked my sense of comfort and cleanliness; and the way it was set up inside didn’t help ease my concerns at all. In one corner of the room we were shown, there was a bed. Cooking utensils were carelessly scattered on the floor, and a large pot was bubbling away on an even larger stove. You couldn’t hide the presence of salt herring and other dried fish, which are staples in the Norwegian diet. The ceiling was so low that I could barely stand up straight with my hat on, and the floor was covered in juniper leaves, which smelled nice by themselves, but mixed with the awful stale tobacco smoke, didn't exactly make me feel favorable toward the cottage's cleanliness. Lastly, to top off the discomfort, the small windows were sealed shut as tightly as a coffin, while the evening was as hot and muggy as a tropical location.

R—— and P—— enjoyed my long face, and each, seating himself on the only two deal chairs, laughed immoderately at my doleful complaints. The gaunt Norwegian, the owner of this humble dwelling, made such comical [Pg 27]grimaces, and winked his little eyes so frequently and eruditely, in endeavouring to fathom their mirth, that I could not restrain myself, and took a conspicuous part in the joke. After arranging, through King, who had come with us, as forming one of the boat's crew, where and how we should sleep, we went into the open air, and R—— and P——, lighting their cigars, again entered into conversation with the Anglo-Norwegian regarding the sports of the country. He told us, with brightening eyes, that, at the top of the mountain, which towered in the rear of our cot, a large bear had been seen for some weeks past, and his depredations had been so extensive, that the peasantry many miles round were terrified out of their wits. This was something to hear; but the old man went on to say, that a bait, consisting of a dead horse, had been laid, and he doubted not, but that in a day or two a shot might be had at the brute. After this narrative our sporting curiosity had reached its zenith; and mutually promising to meet at a certain hour on the morrow, we parted with our voluble informant.

R—— and P—— found my long face amusing, and each of them sat down on the only two wooden chairs, laughing heartily at my sad complaints. The skinny Norwegian, who owned this modest home, made such funny faces and winked his little eyes so often and knowledgeably, trying to understand their laughter, that I couldn’t help myself and joined in on the joke. After coordinating, through King, who had come with us as part of the boat crew, where and how we would sleep, we stepped outside, and R—— and P——, lighting their cigars, started chatting again with the Anglo-Norwegian about the local sports. He told us, with increasing excitement, that a large bear had been spotted for several weeks at the top of the mountain behind our cabin, and its damage was so extensive that the farmers for miles around were terrified. This was intriguing news; the old man continued, saying that they had set a bait of a dead horse, and he had no doubt that in a day or two, they might get a shot at the beast. After this story, our interest in hunting peaked; and after promising to meet at a specific time the next day, we said goodbye to our talkative informant.

Some bread and cheese, and Bass's stout, formed our supper, and reconciled us to our dormitory; and, while we smoked our pipes at the now opened window, we wandered back to old England, and talked of friends and fair ones left behind.

Some bread and cheese, and Bass's stout, made up our dinner and helped us feel at home in our dorm. As we smoked our pipes by the now-open window, we reminisced about old England and talked about friends and loved ones we had left behind.

It was near midnight. Descending from the [Pg 28]hills, the smell of the evening air, impregnated with the sweet odour of a thousand wild flowers, refreshed us, jaded as we were by a long journey, and added delight to the novelty of our situation. The lofty mountains, too, on either hand, seemed, with their summits, to touch the stars; and, except the roar of a cataract, no sound interrupted the silence, which, amidst such vast natural creations, almost amounted to pain.

It was almost midnight. As we came down from the [Pg 28]hills, the evening air, filled with the sweet scent of countless wildflowers, rejuvenated us, weary as we were from a long journey, and added to the excitement of our new surroundings. The towering mountains on either side seemed to reach for the stars, and other than the roar of a waterfall, no sound broke the silence, which, among such immense natural wonders, felt nearly painful.

Notwithstanding my many antipathies, I went to bed, and slept soundly till the next morning, having awaked but once during the night to throw off my eider coverlet. The Norwegians hold the eider in great estimation, and, invariably, whether it be in summer or winter, place it on the bed of a stranger; but I would recommend those who travel in that part of Europe, as we did, during the three summer months, to decline this domestic attention. The eider appears very much like a feather mattress, but is so light, that, when used as a coverlet, you can scarcely feel the difference between its weight and that of an ordinary linen sheet.

Despite my many dislikes, I went to bed and slept deeply until the next morning, waking only once during the night to push off my eider coverlet. The Norwegians highly value eider down, and they always place it on the bed of a guest, whether it's summer or winter. However, I would advise anyone traveling in that part of Europe, like we did during the three summer months, to refuse this kind of hospitality. The eider down feels a lot like a feather mattress, but it's so light that when used as a cover, you can hardly tell the difference in weight between it and a regular linen sheet.

At six o'clock the following morning, we were up and on the banks of the river, which flowed within sight of the cottage windows. Our old Norwegian, punctual to his appointment, was walking by our sides in the joint capacity of spectator and mentor. Captain P—— threw the first fly, and continued [Pg 29]throwing fly after fly, various as the tints of the rainbow, but with the same result as the Norwegian had anticipated. I soon became grieved at seeing the river well thrashed, and left P—— to persevere in his sport, and R——, like Charon, standing bolt upright in a punt, rod in hand, and tackle streaming in air, to be ferried about in search of some quiet nook for his particular diversion. Besides, it was now nine, and I felt interiorly that breakfast would be more pleasant than loitering on the banks of a river, pinched exteriorly by the eagerness of a N.E. wind; for the climate of Norway, in the early part of summer, is influenced by the same fickleness as the climate of England; and the wind, during the night, will visit the cardinal points of the compass, breathing as it did last night, from a warm quarter, and will blow as it does this morning, from the opposite extreme.

At six o'clock the next morning, we were up and by the riverbank, which flowed within view of the cottage windows. Our old Norwegian, true to his word, walked alongside us as both a spectator and a guide. Captain P—— cast the first fly and kept on throwing fly after fly, colorful as a rainbow, but with the same outcome as the Norwegian had predicted. I soon felt disheartened watching the river getting pounded, so I left P—— to continue his fishing, while R——, like Charon, stood upright in a boat, rod in hand and tackle waving in the air, looking for a quiet spot for his own fishing. Besides, it was now nine, and I thought breakfast would be more enjoyable than hanging around the riverbank, feeling cold from the brisk northeast wind; the climate in Norway early in summer is just as unpredictable as in England, and the wind during the night visits all directions, blowing last night from a warm area and this morning from the opposite extreme.

I had scarcely made myself a cup of coffee, and not yet added the cream, which encouraged the spoon to stand upright in its thickness, when R—— and P——, tired with their angling, came in. After demolishing nearly a dozen eggs amongst us, and two capital salmon-trout, which our fast friend, the Anglo-Norwegian, had filched from a large cistern, where they are placed during the winter, for the benefit of his master's table; and after imbibing cauldrons of coffee—so delicious was its flavour—we showed and expressed great [Pg 30]anxiety to pay Bruin the compliments of the season, and as strangers and Englishmen to testify to him, as loudly as we could, the repute his fat had obtained in England.

I had just made myself a cup of coffee and hadn’t even added the cream yet, which made the spoon stand straight up in its thickness, when R—— and P——, worn out from fishing, came in. After we demolished nearly a dozen eggs together and two fantastic salmon-trout that our fast friend, the Anglo-Norwegian, had swiped from a large tank where they’re kept during the winter for his master’s table; and after drinking pots of coffee—so delicious was the flavor—we showed and expressed great [Pg 30]anxiety to pay Bruin the season’s greetings, and as strangers and Englishmen, to loudly share how well-known his fat had become in England.

Our cicerone raised no objection; and, turning to one of his countrymen who had entered the room to gape at us, for I could not then, and I cannot now conceive the nature of his business, addressed him in his native language. The man immediately disappeared, and in half an hour returned with two rifles over each shoulder, and one pistol in his breeches' pocket. The rifles were larger and heavier than the fowling-pieces formerly used by our regiments of the line, and the pistol was of the horse genus, and had a rusty muzzle and a flint lock. However, we were going to annihilate a ruthless foe; and the clumsiness of our accoutrements was of little moment. A few good-natured observations passed between us and the Norseman concerning the susceptibility and quality of the powder, for its grains were coarser than those black beads of which ladies in England make their purses. The said powder for security, was poured into an empty porter-bottle, and corked down.

Our guide didn't object, and turning to one of his countrymen who had come into the room to gawk at us—though I couldn't understand the purpose of his visit then, and I still can't now—he spoke to him in his native language. The man quickly left and returned half an hour later with two rifles slung over each shoulder and a pistol stuffed in his pants pocket. The rifles were larger and heavier than the shotguns used by our infantry units, and the pistol was a cavalry type, rusty at the muzzle and with a flint lock. Still, we were ready to take down a ruthless enemy, so the awkwardness of our gear didn't really matter. We exchanged a few light-hearted comments with the Norseman about the quality and consistency of the gunpowder, which was coarser than the black beads that ladies in England use to make their purses. To keep it safe, the powder was poured into an empty porter bottle and corked shut.

We started; but we had barely proceeded three-quarters of a mile before our little Anglo-Norwegian, who had abided by our good or ill fortune constantly from the beginning, suddenly remembered that some important business required his presence in the low lands [Pg 31]where dwelt industry and peace, and accordingly recommending us to the skill of two guides, shook hands cordially with us, and in a few minutes his ominous face and oval form were hidden from our sight by the shrubs and stunted firs which covered the mountain's side.

We set off, but we had barely covered three-quarters of a mile when our little Anglo-Norwegian, who had stuck with us through thick and thin from the start, suddenly remembered that he had some important business to attend to in the lowlands [Pg 31] where work and tranquility thrived. So, after recommending us to the expertise of two guides, he shook our hands warmly and, in just a few minutes, his worried face and oval shape were out of sight, concealed by the bushes and stunted fir trees lining the mountain's slope.

The waning of his courage did not darken ours; for, like all Englishmen, we instantly commenced a political discussion, which terminated, after an hour's duration, in the British fleet attacking, fatally, the Norwegian gun-boats at Christiansand, nemine contradicente, and the two boors grinning from ear to ear.

The fading of his courage didn't dampen ours; because, like all Englishmen, we immediately started a political discussion, which ended, after an hour, with the British fleet launching a deadly attack on the Norwegian gunboats at Christiansand, with no one objecting, while the two farmers grinned from ear to ear.

At length our guides, by signs, signified that silence was requisite. A quarter of an hour more elapsed when one of them motioned us to keep close, and going down on his hands and feet, intimated the proximity of our game.

At last, our guides indicated that we needed to be quiet. After about fifteen minutes, one of them signaled us to stay close, got down on all fours, and hinted that our target was near.

We were now five and thirty yards from the brow of the mountain, and, crawling with the stealth and silence of a cat, the principal guide reached the summit, at the same moment levelling his gun, which made us imagine that Bruin was in full view; but gradually lowering his piece, till the butt reached the ground, and leaning on it with both hands, the man turned towards us, shook his head, and smiled. We were instantly by his side.

We were now thirty-five yards from the top of the mountain, and, crawling quietly like a cat, the main guide reached the summit. He aimed his gun, making us think that Bruin was in sight; but then he gradually lowered it until the butt touched the ground, leaning on it with both hands. The man turned to us, shook his head, and smiled. We quickly joined him.

Round a hollow piece of table-land, tending to a swamp, we saw, standing at equal distances from each other, three sheds, constructed of long fir poles driven into the earth and tapering, [Pg 32]like a cone, into the air, covered scantily with the branches of the pine or fir, and having an only inlet by which a man, crouching, might reach the interior. In the centre of this swamp the carcass of a horse lay, mangled and scattered in every direction. The trunks of trees, which had been felled for the purpose, were piled on the dead body; and this was done that the bear, finding it too troublesome, for he is economical of labour, to remove the body nearer to his den, would satisfy his hunger on the spot, and offer an opportunity to overtake him at his meals; besides, the bear, being quick of sight and shy, and so sensitive of scent that he can smell a man at the distance of a mile or more if he approaches with the wind, will frequently leave his food and as frequently return to it; and, therefore, the Norwegians conceal themselves in the kind of sheds I have described above, and remain for days and nights under such precarious roofs in order to circumvent and destroy the animal.

Around a hollow piece of tableland leading to a swamp, we saw three sheds, spaced evenly apart, made from long fir poles driven into the ground and tapering like a cone into the air. They were barely covered with branches from pine or fir and had only one entrance that required a person to crouch down to get inside. In the middle of the swamp lay a mangled horse carcass, scattered in every direction. Tree trunks, cut down for this purpose, were piled on the dead body to make it easier for the bear to eat it right there instead of dragging it closer to its den, as bears prefer to conserve their energy. This also created a chance for hunters to catch the bear while it was eating. Additionally, bears have excellent eyesight and are skittish, in addition to being so sensitive to smell that they can detect a person from over a mile away if the wind is blowing in the right direction. Because of this, they often leave their food and come back to it. So, the Norwegians hide in those sheds I mentioned earlier, staying there for days and nights under such makeshift shelters to try to outsmart and kill the animal.

We felt rather disappointed at not having even seen old Bruin, but a good laugh in some degree compensated us for the fatigue we had undergone. For my own part, armed as I was with the rusty horse pistol, and intent on the manufacture of my own bear's grease, I had heard so many pleasing anecdotes of the bear's noble nature, that I did not regret his retreat had been commenced in time. These [Pg 33]animals, unless severely pressed by hunger, will never attack any living creature, and will even avoid with much care those parts of the mountains where cattle are wont to feed; and it is beyond the recollection of the oldest inhabitant, or, indeed, the reach of tradition, when a child has been, in the slightest degree, hurt by the Norwegian bear. On the contrary, it is well known that these animals have met children in their track, and, though at the time much oppressed by thirst and famine, have passed them harmlessly by.

We felt pretty let down that we hadn't even seen the old bear, but sharing a good laugh helped make up for the tiredness we had experienced. Personally, equipped with my rusty horse pistol and focused on making my own bear grease, I had heard so many great stories about bears being noble that I didn't regret that it had left before we arrived. These [Pg 33]animals, unless they are really starving, will never attack any living creature, and they avoid areas of the mountains where livestock typically graze. No one can remember, and it's really not part of any stories, when a child has ever been even slightly harmed by a Norwegian bear. On the flip side, it's well known that these animals have encountered children in their path, and even when they were very thirsty and hungry, they safely walked past them.

We sate down on a large rock, about twelve feet square, slightly elevated above the ground, and entirely overgrown with moss. A small fir tree, not ten inches high, grew in its centre, and the symmetry of its diminutive trunk, rendered more beautiful by the regularity with which its little branches sprung forth and drooped around first attracted our notice to the spot as one where we should rest.

We sat down on a large rock, about twelve feet square, slightly raised above the ground, and completely covered in moss. A small fir tree, less than ten inches tall, grew in its center, and the symmetry of its tiny trunk, made even more beautiful by the way its little branches sprang out and hung down, first caught our attention to this place as a good spot to rest.

It was so situated that we could see for many miles around us in one direction; but were excluded from any prospect at the other points. A bog, filled with animalculæ of all forms sporting about in the water, which was black from long stagnation, surrounded three parts of the rock, leaving but one approach to it, which was the side least raised above the level of the earth. The bog, therefore, acted as a moat; and it was with that, or some similar feeling of security, we stretched [Pg 34]ourselves at full length on the soft moss, and basked in the sun. P——, as usual, drew forth his pipe, and soothing himself with its fumes, exemplified absolute comfort and contentment in the placidity of his countenance. R—— dangled his legs over the edges of the rock; and I, assuming the same attitude, gazed with him on the mountains towering and straggling, at a great distance above and beneath us.

It was positioned so that we could see for miles in one direction, but were blocked from views in the other directions. A bog, teeming with tiny creatures of all shapes swimming around in the dark, stagnant water, surrounded three sides of the rock, leaving only one way to access it, which was the side that was lowest above the ground. So the bog acted like a moat; with that, or a similar feeling of safety, we laid ourselves out on the soft moss and soaked up the sun. P——, as usual, took out his pipe, and, relaxing with its smoke, showed complete comfort and satisfaction in the peace on his face. R—— dangled his legs over the edge of the rock, and I, taking the same position, looked with him at the mountains looming and spreading out, far above and below us.

"What a bore it is" said R——, "fagging all the way up here, and not getting a shot at that brute."

"What a drag this is," said R——, "trudging all the way up here and not even getting a chance to take a shot at that beast."

"Why, yes," I replied, "but bears, you know, are as likely to deceive people now-a-days, as will-o'-the-wisps did monks of yore."

"Sure," I replied, "but bears, you know, are just as likely to trick people these days as will-o'-the-wisps used to fool monks in the past."

"That's all very well," observed R——, "but I am no monk, and I think those Norwegians tell a good many lies; and this dead horse has been only pulled about up here by a herd of famished dogs, and no bear. These fellows say there are bears to make their country appear finer than it is."

"That’s all great," R—— remarked, "but I’m not a monk, and I think those Norwegians tell a lot of lies; this dead horse has just been dragged around here by a pack of starving dogs, not a bear. These guys say there are bears to make their country look better than it really is."

"No, no," answered P——, "the fact is, we are too late; the day is hot, as you feel, and these animals disliking the heat, feed at daylight, and then retire into the heart of the forest, where they can escape the oppression of the mid-day sun."

"No, no," replied P——, "the truth is, we’re too late; it’s a hot day, as you can feel, and these animals don’t like the heat, so they eat during the daytime and then head deep into the forest to avoid the harsh midday sun."

"Always?" R—— asked.

"Always?" R—— asked.

"Of course," replied P——.

"Sure," replied P——.

"Oh! of course;" R—— reiterated, "that may be natural philosophy, but my way of [Pg 35]thinking seems as natural; and I take it, that, when animals, like men, know where food is to be found and eat for the mere walking, sunlight and moonlight, heat and cold are alike to them."

"Oh! of course," R—— repeated, "that might be natural philosophy, but my way of [Pg 35]thinking feels just as natural; and I believe that when animals, just like humans, know where to find food and eat just by walking, sunlight and moonlight, heat and cold don't matter to them."

"I know," answered P——, "these Norwegian fellows tell enormous crammers; but you may depend upon it, if we wish to get sport we must get up earlier."

"I know," replied P——, "these Norwegian guys tell huge tall tales; but you can count on it, if we want to have fun, we need to wake up earlier."

"Well," R—— replied, "all I can say to the bears and sporting animals in general is, that if they don't breakfast a little later, or indulge in luncheons, they won't hear much of me. Fun is fun, and sport is sport; but catch me out of bed at half-past 2 A.M."

"Well," R—— replied, "all I can say to the bears and sports animals in general is that if they don’t have breakfast a bit later or enjoy some lunches, they won’t hear much from me. Fun is fun, and sport is sport; but good luck getting me out of bed at 2:30 A.M."

"I abide by R——," I said, "I hold his logic in high repute, since its principle is good."

"I follow R——," I said, "I think highly of his reasoning because its foundation is solid."

P—— replied not; but, removing the pin from his silk neckcloth, stirred up with its sharp point the smouldering ashes of his pipe. R—— looked in silence at the surrounding scene, and then broke into an exclamation of rapture.

P—— didn’t respond; instead, he took the pin out of his silk neckcloth and used its sharp point to poke at the smoldering ashes of his pipe. R—— quietly observed the scene around them, then suddenly exclaimed in delight.

"Is it not beautiful?" concurred P——, turning his eyes in the direction of the mountains. "There is nothing in the world to be compared to the sublimity of this scenery, defined as the outlines are by the clearness of the atmosphere and its deep blue tint." After a short pause he continued, "When we can see at one glance such an [Pg 36]immensity of space, and know that this vast tract of mountain and of valley must be full of animal life, is not this silence awful?"

"Isn't it beautiful?" agreed P——, looking towards the mountains. "There's nothing in the world that compares to the grandeur of this scenery, especially with the clarity of the atmosphere and its deep blue color." After a brief pause, he added, "When we can see such an [Pg 36]expanse of space at a glance and realize that this huge area of mountains and valleys is likely teeming with wildlife, isn't this silence terrifying?"

We made no answer, but tacitly complied with his observation.

We didn't respond, but silently agreed with what he said.

The rustling of dried leaves and the sharp crack of a breaking twig now crept upon the ear; and P——, a sportsman at all points and at all times, had already turned in the direction whence the interruption came; and, as I was about to speak, he grasped me convulsively by the arm, and, without any other intimation of danger, began slowly to raise his rifle from the ground. R—— and I immediately started up, utterly at a loss to know the cause of his dismay.

The sound of dry leaves rustling and the sharp snap of a breaking twig quietly reached our ears; and P——, always the sportsman, turned toward the source of the noise. Just as I was about to say something, he suddenly gripped my arm tightly and, without any other sign of danger, slowly began to lift his rifle off the ground. R—— and I quickly got to our feet, completely confused about what had caused his alarm.

"For God's sake!" P—— whispered, without removing his eyes from the quarter where they had been fixed, "don't speak: here he is!"

"For heaven's sake!" P—— whispered, keeping his eyes glued to the spot they had been staring at, "don't say a word: he's here!"

"Here is what?" in imitative whispers, breathed R——; but, at the same time, cocking the trigger of his rifle, "I don't see him."

"What's going on?" R—— whispered, imitating the sounds around him; but at the same time, he cocked the trigger of his rifle, "I can't see him."

"Don't fire!" again whispered P——; "take your time."

"Don't shoot!" P—— whispered again, "take your time."

"'Don't fire!' and 'take your time,'" said R——; "but what do you see?"

"'Don't shoot!' and 'take your time,'" said R——; "but what do you see?"

"Look there! don't you see him—close to that old stump?"

"Look there! Don’t you see him—next to that old stump?"

"Oh! ah! now I do. By Jove! he's a wapper!"

"Oh! ah! now I do. Wow! he's a big one!"

"Where are those fellows?" asked P——, glancing round. I guessed to whom he alluded, [Pg 37]and beckoned to our guides, who were sitting at some short distance, in ignorance of our plight, but had been watching our actions with all the attention, and listening to our conversation with all the comprehension of persons who did not understand our language. An instant sufficed to range them at our elbows.

"Where are those guys?" asked P——, looking around. I figured out who he meant, [Pg 37] and signaled to our guides, who were sitting a little way off, unaware of our situation, but had been paying close attention to what we were doing and listening to our conversation with the understanding of people who didn’t speak our language. In an instant, they were at our sides.

P—— pointed to the spot he had already suggested as the focus of attention, and they both saw, with the quick-sightedness of men accustomed to live by the chase, the cause of his excitement.

P—— pointed to the spot he had already suggested as the focus of attention, and they both saw, with the keen vision of men used to living by the hunt, the reason for his excitement.

"Ja! ja!" they exclaimed simultaneously, their countenances radiant with joy, "goot."

"Yeah! yeah!" they shouted at the same time, their faces beaming with happiness, "good."

P—— bowed his head in the affirmative; and we could not help admiring the courage of the Norwegians, which seemed to merge into enthusiasm, the more imminent the risk and danger of our sport became.

P—— nodded in agreement; and we couldn’t help but admire the bravery of the Norwegians, which seemed to turn into excitement as the risks and dangers of our sport grew more immediate.

An enormous bear, apparently fatigued by long travel, and panting loudly with protruding tongue, slowly stalked forth from a mound of earth which had accumulated round the stump of a beech-tree grown to maturity, but now decaying in the midst of rushes and briars of every sort. Bruin, no doubt, overheard our voices, for he stopped on his way, drew in his tongue, ceased his violent respiration; and, raising his head on high, snuffed the air on all sides, and then placing his nose close to the ground, kept it there for some little time. He was eighty or ninety yards [Pg 38]from the spot where we stood. As again his head was lifted up, his small tuft of a tail moved quickly from right to left, revealing his turbulence and hesitation.

An enormous bear, clearly worn out from long travel and panting heavily with its tongue hanging out, slowly emerged from a mound of dirt that had built up around the stump of a fully grown beech tree, now decaying among the rushes and thorns. The bear must have heard our voices because it paused, pulled its tongue back in, stopped breathing heavily, and raised its head to sniff the air all around. Then, placing its nose close to the ground, it kept it there for a little while. It was about eighty or ninety yards [Pg 38] from where we were standing. When it lifted its head again, its small tuft of a tail flicked back and forth, showing its agitation and uncertainty.

"Don't let us all fire together," hinted P——, in an under tone; "but let those Norwegians blaze away first, as we don't know anything about their skill."

"Don't let all of us shoot at once," suggested P—— quietly; "let those Norwegians go first since we have no idea about their skills."

"Then, I'll follow," said R——.

"Then, I'll follow," said R—.

"And my pistol next," I interceded.

"And my gun next," I interrupted.

"Very well; and I will try my luck last," said P——. "Are all ready?"

"Alright; I'll give it a shot last," said P—. "Is everyone ready?"

"All right," we both answered, and the two Norwegians assented with a nod.

"Okay," we both replied, and the two Norwegians nodded in agreement.

The bear kept moving gradually near and nearer to the bait, and approached within a very short space of the rock where we lay hid, thickly surrounded by the branches of the fir and beech.

The bear kept getting closer and closer to the bait and approached very close to the rock where we were hidden, surrounded densely by the branches of the fir and beech.

"Fire!" breathed P——, lowly.

"Fire!" whispered P——.

One guide, elevating his gigantic rifle, pulled the trigger. A tremendous report was one result, and the total disappearance of the Norwegian was the other; the fowling-piece having kicked him completely off the edge of the rock into our natural moat, the bog. We heard the splash of the man's body below, and thought, at first, he was killed by the bursting of his rifle; but when his companion, who had leaped down to his assistance, helped him, reeking and muddy, from the dominions of the tadpole, and placed him, uninjured, [Pg 39]though stunned, on his legs, we could not resist a burst of merriment at his countenance of unmitigated disgust, as the liquid filth oozed from the tips of his dependent fingers.

One guide, raising his huge rifle, pulled the trigger. The loud bang was one result, and the complete disappearance of the Norwegian was the other; the shotgun had knocked him right off the edge of the rock into our natural moat, the swamp. We heard the splash of his body below and initially thought he had been killed by the explosion of his rifle; but when his companion jumped down to help him and pulled him, soaked and muddy, from the realm of the tadpole, and set him, unharmed, [Pg 39] though dazed, on his feet, we couldn't help but burst out laughing at his face of absolute disgust, as the dirty water dripped from the tips of his outstretched fingers.

The sound of our laughter alarmed Bruin, and revealed us to his sight, and, rising immediately on his hind-legs, he commenced moving towards the Norwegians, and hissing like a hot coal dipped in cold water.

The sound of our laughter startled Bruin and caught his attention. Rising immediately onto his hind legs, he started moving toward the Norwegians, hissing like a hot coal plunged into cold water.

"Hang the mud, jump up!" exclaimed P——.

"Forget the mess, jump up!" exclaimed P——.

"Grin and bear it, old fellow," and, saying so, R—— quietly levelled his rifle, with some misgiving, for it was of Norwegian manufacture, and fired at the animal. Poor Bruin received the ball in his left fore-leg; and, with a piteous moan, he instantly assumed his natural position on all fours, and hissed and growled, and licked the blood which streamed from the wound. The animal, nothing daunted, even in this extremity, still moved towards us with great ferocity; and, as he came within forty feet, P—— lodged a second bullet in his loin. The pain exasperated him to the quick, and he rushed furiously towards the rock.

"Grin and bear it, my friend," R—— said quietly as he aimed his rifle, feeling a bit uneasy since it was made in Norway, and fired at the animal. Poor Bruin took the bullet in his left front leg; with a heartbreaking moan, he quickly got onto all fours, hissing and growling as he licked the blood streaming from his wound. Undeterred, even in his pain, the animal charged at us with fierce intent; and when he got within forty feet, P—— fired a second bullet into his side. The pain drove him wild, and he charged furiously toward the rock.

"Where's the powder?" shouted P——.

"Where's the powder?" shouted P——.

"I don't know," echoed from every one. No powder could be found; the Norwegian having taken possession of the porter bottle, and placed it in his pocket, had doubtlessly fallen with it into the quagmire; and they had now absconded.

"I don’t know," everyone echoed. No powder could be found; the Norwegian had taken the porter bottle and tucked it in his pocket, and he had surely fallen into the quagmire along with it; and they had now disappeared.

[Pg 40]"Don't let him get up!" continued P—— emphatically.

[Pg 40]"Don’t let him sit up!" P—— insisted firmly.

"Not to my knowledge," R—— replied, assuming a long recognised attitude of great military defence.

"Not to my knowledge," R—— replied, taking on a well-known posture of strong military defense.

I now presented my rusty old horse-pistol at Bruin's head, at an interval sufficient under the circumstances, of three yards, and fired it; when, whether from having received its contents, or from alarm at its loud report, the bear rolled over on his back; but, recovering himself in a moment, he made an awkward spring, short of the rock, and received, in commemoration of his false agility, a blow on the head from the butt-end of R——'s rifle. The shock removed R——'s glazed cap from his head, and it fell, bounding from the rock, close to Bruin's nose. Mistaking, no doubt, this ingenious covering for R——'s especial skull, the bear, infuriated, flew at it impetuously, and seizing it in his mouth, shook it as an angry dog would have shaken a rag.

I pointed my rusty old horse-pistol at Bruin's head from a distance of about three yards and fired. Whether it was from the bullet or just scared by the loud bang, the bear rolled onto its back. But it quickly got back on its feet and made a clumsy leap, falling short of the rock. Unfortunately for him, he got hit on the head by the butt-end of R——'s rifle. The impact knocked R——'s cap off his head, and it bounced off the rock right next to Bruin's nose. Mistaking this clever cap for R——'s actual head, the bear, enraged, lunged at it and grabbed it in his mouth, shaking it like an angry dog would a rag.

The blood was now fastly trickling down his tongue, which hung from his mouth, and through his side at every pulsation, spouted, smoking, the warm element of life. Gradually, slowly, yet reluctantly, his head drooped towards the ground, and, faint from loss of blood, the animal, tottering from side to side, sate, weakened as he was, upright on his haunches, showing his teeth, and growling until the [Pg 41]coagulated blood, accumulating in his throat, would make him cough, and threatened suffocation.

The blood was now quickly trickling down his tongue, which hung from his mouth, and with each heartbeat, it spouted warm, life-giving fluid through his side. Gradually, slowly, but reluctantly, his head drooped towards the ground, and faint from blood loss, the animal, swaying side to side, sat upright on his haunches. Despite his weakness, he showed his teeth and growled until the [Pg 41] coagulated blood built up in his throat, making him cough and threatening to suffocate him.

Descending from the rock, we came near to the dying creature, and, striving to reach one of us, he lifted his paw, and, as he did so, lost his balance, and tumbled over on the earth. Although, as we supposed, on the point of death, the gallant brute still growled, and attempted to rise again and renew the fight, but complete exhaustion denied what his courage prompted.

Descending from the rock, we approached the dying creature, and, trying to reach one of us, he lifted his paw. As he did, he lost his balance and fell to the ground. Even though we thought he was on the verge of death, the brave animal still growled and tried to get back up to continue the fight, but sheer exhaustion prevented him from acting on his courage.

The Norwegians now reappeared, and one of them knelt down to remove R——'s cap from the bear's clutches; but the undaunted Bruin, as if desirous of giving his countryman a final embrace, seized him round the neck, and drew him tightly to his clotted breast. We were, of course, alarmed a second time for the man's safety, and by great exertions tried to release him from his perilous condition; but our efforts were not a little crippled by the legs of the Norwegian, which he flung violently about at every possible tangent; and one arm, moving with the rapid oscillating motion of a steam-engine, brought the fist in sharp contact with the other Norwegian's chest, and threw him, head over heels, into the identical pool whence he had himself but lately escaped.

The Norwegians returned, and one of them knelt down to take R——'s cap from the bear's grip; but the fearless bear, as if wanting to give his fellow countryman one last hug, wrapped his arms around the man's neck and pulled him close to his matted fur. We were, of course, worried for the man's safety again, and with great effort, we tried to free him from his dangerous situation; however, our attempts were hindered by the Norwegian's legs, which he flailed around wildly at every angle. One of his arms, moving like a fast-pumping steam engine, swung hard into the chest of the other Norwegian, knocking him head over heels into the very pool he had just escaped from.

The accident was so ludicrous, that in the ecstasies of mirth, we forgot the man lying prostrate and kicking in the arms of the bear; [Pg 42]until, by dint of his own exertions, he released himself, and, standing upright before us, showed his face plastered from forehead to chin, and ear to ear, with a multitude of withered leaves, which adhered to the blood he had borrowed from the animal's wounds.

The accident was so ridiculous that, in our fits of laughter, we completely forgot about the guy lying flat on the ground, struggling in the bear's grip; [Pg 42]until, through his own efforts, he managed to free himself and, standing tall in front of us, revealed his face covered from forehead to chin and ear to ear with a bunch of withered leaves, stuck to the blood he had gotten from the animal's wounds.

The poor bear was now dead; and, behaving bravely as he did to the last, we could not help regretting his end. Though young, he almost reached an Alderney cow in height and standard, and great power was developed in the sinews and breadth of his chest. His coat to the touch and sight was soft and glossy as silk.

The poor bear was now dead; and, acting bravely until the end, we couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Even though he was young, he was nearly as tall as an Alderney cow, and he had impressive strength in his muscles and wide chest. His fur was soft and shiny like silk to the touch and sight.

After standing over his body for a few minutes in silent observation, R—— wiped the gore from his cap, and placing it, shattered as it was, on his head, we all left the bear, for the present, where he lay; and wandering through the forest for some time, enjoyed the coolness of the air at this great elevation, pursuing, by a circuitous route, our descent to the cottage.

After standing over his body for a few minutes in silence, R—— wiped the blood from his cap and, putting it on his head, even though it was damaged, we all left the bear where it lay for now. We wandered through the forest for a while, enjoying the cool air at this high altitude as we took a winding path down to the cottage.

Our fame, unlike the

Our fame, unlike the

"Fama malum," &c., &c.

"Fama malum," etc., etc.

of Virgil, did, certainly, precede us with great velocity, but with beneficial effects; for the women came forth to meet us, and looking up in our faces, found out our eyes were beautiful, and our noses better moulded than their own, and called us handsome "Ingerleesh;" and the men, grasping us by the wrists, said we were brave and "goot Ingerleesh."

of Virgil, did indeed come before us with great speed, but with positive outcomes; for the women stepped forward to greet us, and looking up at our faces, noticed that our eyes were pretty, and our noses were better shaped than their own, and called us handsome "English;" and the men, grabbing us by the wrists, said we were brave and "good English."

[Pg 43]One little blue-eyed girl, the elegance of her light form unaided by the care of art, attracted my attention; and, with finger in her mouth, sidling coaxingly to me, took my hand gently in hers, and begged in the sweet idiom of her country, and in the earnest tones of her own sweeter voice, that I would carry her with me to "Ingerlaand," where she would serve me, like a slave, till she died.

[Pg 43]One little blue-eyed girl, her graceful figure untouched by sophistication, caught my eye; and, with her finger in her mouth, she approached me shyly, took my hand gently in hers, and in the gentle way of her people, with the sincere tones of her own even sweeter voice, asked me to take her with me to "England," where she promised to serve me like a slave until her dying day.

The sun had long passed the meridian before the felicitations on our success were at an end; and then, having recommended the bear's carcass to the custody of our ancient and well-tried friend, the Anglo-Norwegian, who promised to preserve the skin for us till our return, (and who, by the way, was the first to meet us and thank his pagods for our safe issue out of the skirmish,) and having made a trifling present to our host, we packed up our pots and pans, and, seating ourselves in the gig, were again floating on the Toptdal River.

The sun had long passed its peak when the congratulations on our success finally wrapped up; then, after asking our old and trusted friend, the Anglo-Norwegian, to look after the bear's carcass and promising to save the skin for us until we got back (who, by the way, was the first to greet us and thank his gods for our safe escape from the skirmish), and after giving a small gift to our host, we packed our pots and pans, got into the gig, and were once again gliding along the Toptdal River.

P——'s first love, the pool, was not forgotten, for he gave it a wistful glance in passing; but the wind drawing aft, our sail was set, and stopping was beyond all question. We continued our course without any interruption until we arrived at the mouth of the river, when a sudden puff took a fancy for R——'s renowned cap, and, forcing it from his head, raised it high in its embrace, and kept it there for a second or two; then, as if suddenly [Pg 44]relaxing in its caresses, tossed it vehemently away into the water.

P——'s first love, the pool, wasn’t forgotten; he gave it a longing glance as we passed by. But with the wind behind us, we had our sail set, and there was no chance of stopping. We kept moving without any interruptions until we got to the mouth of the river, when a sudden gust decided it liked R——'s famous cap. It yanked it off his head, lifted it high for a moment, and then, as if suddenly losing interest, flung it violently into the water.

We all witnessed the gyrations of the cap, and saw it fall; but, before we could row to the spot, the great tile sank from repletion, and—for ever!

We all saw the cap spin around and then fall; but before we could paddle over to the spot, the big tile sank from being too full, and—forever!

The same puff in its subtlety nearly capsized us, and completely carried away the step of the mast. No other incident befell us; and we jumped on board the Iris as the church at Christiansand was striking six.

The same gentle puff almost tipped us over and completely knocked the mast off its step. Nothing else happened to us; we hopped on board the Iris just as the church in Christiansand was ringing six o'clock.

Wednesday, the 12th, did us the kindness of showing the aspect of Old Norway under the effect of a different atmosphere than we had yet inhaled; for it rained the whole day with all the accumulated steadiness, rheumatic rawness, slowness, and obstinacy of a Scotch, or English November mist. We did not, however, heed the weather, but rowed round the Bay, and strolled on the islands in its vicinity, stimulated by the hope of getting a shot at some animal, fish or bird; but no such luck overtook us. We returned on board, wet through, after being absent for three hours, and while removing our damp boots, concluded that we were deceived on our first arrival, and, that Norway was the same "humbugging" sort of a place as the rest of Europe; and, indeed, that the whole world was subject to the identical changes of shower, fog, and sunshine.

Wednesday, the 12th, was kind enough to show us Old Norway in a different light than we had experienced before; it rained all day long with the persistent, chilly dampness and drag of a Scottish or English November mist. However, we didn’t let the weather get to us. We rowed around the bay and wandered on the nearby islands, driven by the hope of seeing some animals, fish, or birds to shoot at; but we had no luck. We returned to the boat completely soaked after three hours, and while taking off our wet boots, we concluded that we had been misled on our initial arrival and that Norway was just like the rest of Europe—a "humbug." In fact, the whole world seemed to be subject to the same constant shifts of rain, fog, and sunshine.

Some Norwegian gentleman, just at this nick of time and temper, sent on board a [Pg 45]salmon, a brace of black cock, and a cock of the north, as large as a turkey, and we immediately admitted the generosity of foreigners, particularly these Norsemen, but shut out the drizzle of Wednesday, the 12th of May, from any kind of sympathy.

Some Norwegian guy, right at this moment, sent onboard a [Pg 45] salmon, two black grouse, and a big northern bird, as large as a turkey. We instantly recognized the generosity of foreigners, especially these Norsemen, but completely ignored the rain on Wednesday, May 12th, without any sympathy.







CHAPTER III.

DEPARTURE FROM CHRISTIANSAND—THE PILOT'S PRAM—SKAW POINT—DELINQUENCIES OF JACKO—EXPENSIVE CANNONADING—ELSINEUR—HAMLET'S WALK—THE MINISTER, STRUENSEE—STORY OF QUEEN CAROLINE-MATILDA—LEGEND OF THE SERF.

DEPARTURE FROM CHRISTIANSAND—THE PILOT'S PRAM—SKAW POINT—JACKO'S MISDEEDS—COSTLY CANNON FIRE—ELSINEUR—HAMLET'S WALK—MINISTER STRUENSEE—STORY OF QUEEN CAROLINE-MATILDA—LEGEND OF THE SERF.


Thursday broke without a cloud. The wind breathed softly over the mountains from the West. We had no object to detain us longer, for the present, in Norway, and so the cutter was got under weigh. The wind gradually increased, and, at eight o'clock, we passed the Oxoe Light, at the eastern extremity of the Fiord.

Thursday dawned clear and sunny. A gentle breeze blew over the mountains from the West. We had no reason to stay longer in Norway, so we set sail. The wind picked up gradually, and by eight o'clock, we passed the Oxoe Light at the eastern end of the Fiord.

The pilot, unaccustomed to the speed of an English yacht, was much alarmed about the safety of his boat towing at the cutter's stern; for, now and then, the antiquated pram would dip its nose so deeply into the water, being drawn swiftly through it, as to threaten instant submersion; and his attention divided between the tiller of a vessel, which flew up in the wind's eye with the slightest negligence, [Pg 47]and his anxiety for the well-being of his own boat,—the countenance of the Norse tar was a book on whose leaves the student might have seen how truly "the ridiculous and sublime" can be united.

The pilot, not used to the speed of an English yacht, was really worried about the safety of his boat being towed behind the cutter; every now and then, the old dinghy would dip its nose so deeply into the water as it was pulled along that it seemed like it would sink at any moment. His attention was split between handling the tiller of a vessel, which would jerk sharply in the wind with the slightest mistake, [Pg 47] and his concern for his own boat’s safety. The expression on the Norse sailor's face showed just how well "the ridiculous and sublime" can come together.

"Now then, my man," said D——; "mind your helm, or you'll have her up in the wind in a minute."

"Alright, buddy," said D——; "watch your steering, or you'll have her facing the wind in no time."

"Ja; but luke at moin praam—moin Got!"

"Yeah; but look at my boat—my God!"

"Curse your pram,—she won't hurt; haul her on board," said D—— to some of the sailors.

"Forget your pram—she’ll be fine; get her on board," said D—— to some of the sailors.

"Nej, nej," exclaimed the Norwegian; "zare—luke zare! Moin Got! luke at moin praam!"

"NO, no," exclaimed the Norwegian; "look—there! My God! look at my boat!"

"Her timbers are good, ain't they? If they're good, and will hold together, this lop wont hurt her," observed D——.

"Her structure is solid, right? If it is solid and can hold up, this damage won't affect her," remarked D——.

"Ja,—goot; but ze vater ville come into moin praam. Moin Got!"

"Yeah, good; but the water will come into my boat. My God!"

The fellow was glad to take his dollars and his leave, and, as soon as he did so, we shaped our course for the Skaw Point, the most northerly headland of Denmark. The wind now blew strongly from W.S.W., and the Iris tore furiously along, revelling with her favourite breeze, three points on the quarter; and, bounding from wave to wave, she seemed to dally with their soft white crests, which curved half playfully, half reluctantly, as her proud bows met and kissed them lightly, then threw them, hissing, in her wake.

The guy was happy to take his money and leave, and as soon as he did, we set our course for Skaw Point, the northernmost headland of Denmark. The wind was now blowing strongly from the W.S.W., and the Iris sped along fiercely, enjoying her favorite breeze at three points off the quarter. Bounding from wave to wave, she seemed to play with their soft white crests, which curved half playfully, half reluctantly, as her proud bow met and lightly kissed them, only to toss them behind her with a hissing sound.

[Pg 48]At noon, the latitude observed, was 57.54; and at five o'clock we made the Skaw through the crevices of a fog.

[Pg 48]At noon, we measured the latitude to be 57.54; and at five o'clock, we navigated through the fog to reach Skaw.

We had run nearly one hundred miles in nine hours, and the reader may easily understand the alarm of the pilot for the safety of his boat. At six o'clock, the fog cleared away, and we discerned with our glasses five vessels which had run ashore during the thickness of the weather. These mishaps frequently occur along this part of the Danish shore, for it is very low, and invariably shrouded in mist.

We had traveled almost a hundred miles in nine hours, and it's easy to see why the pilot was worried about the safety of his boat. By six o'clock, the fog lifted, and we spotted five ships that had run aground during the foggy weather. These accidents often happen along this stretch of the Danish coastline since it's very shallow and constantly covered in mist.

We did not lack society; as hundreds of vessels of all shapes and sizes, from the lumbering Dutchman to the trim American, were scattered over the surface of the water. We amused ourselves by signalling, first to one ship, and, then, to the other brig, and so on, in rotation, from schooner to smack; and, thus occupied, the afternoon wagged on.

We weren't short on company; hundreds of ships of all shapes and sizes, from the slow-moving Dutchman to the sleek American, were spread out across the water. We entertained ourselves by signaling to one ship, then to another brig, and so on, taking turns from schooner to smack; and while we were busy with that, the afternoon passed by.

Jacko was convicted of a few misdemeanours to-day, and the principal witness against him was his particular friend, Alfred, the boy. Jacko was seen to descend into the cabin, and, entering my berth, to take thence my best London-made and only remaining tooth-brush; and, after polishing his own diminutive teeth, and committing other pranks with it, such as the scrubbing of the deck, and currying of Sailor's back, left it to batten on the fish-bones in the said Sailor's hutch; and was, moreover, seen by the aforesaid complainant to remove [Pg 49]R——'s small ivory box of cold cream from the dressing-case, and, ascending the deck,—not as human creatures do by the companion-stairs, but along the companion-banisters, carrying the purloined article in his tail,—to anoint, in the first instance, his own pugged nose; and, in the second instance, to transfer the obligation to Sailor's (always Sailor!) shaggy ears and shaggier coat; and then, that his guilt might be concealed, till the day of judgment for ring-tailed monkeys should come, the little box itself was sent overboard through one of the scuppers. Jacko was found guilty of these two charges by the steward and helmsman, (whose pipe Jacko had also committed to the waters of the Scaggerack,) and ordered to the mast-head; and there he remained for three hours sitting close to the jaws of the gaff, and chattering, without cessation, his annoyances to the gaff halliard blocks.

Jacko was convicted of a few misdemeanors today, and the main witness against him was his close friend, Alfred, the boy. Jacko was seen going into the cabin, entering my berth, and taking my best London-made and only remaining toothbrush. After polishing his own tiny teeth and doing other antics with it, like scrubbing the deck and grooming Sailor's back, he left it to feast on the fish bones in Sailor's hutch. Furthermore, the aforementioned complainant saw him take R——'s small ivory box of cold cream from the dressing case. He then climbed up to the deck—not like normal people do by the companion stairs, but along the companion banisters—carrying the stolen item in his tail. First, he used it to dab his own flat nose, and then he spread it on Sailor's (always Sailor!) shaggy ears and even shaggier coat. To hide his guilt until the day of judgment for ring-tailed monkeys, he tossed the little box overboard through one of the scuppers. Jacko was found guilty of these two charges by the steward and helmsman (whose pipe Jacko had also thrown into the waters of the Scaggerack) and was sent to the masthead. There he stayed for three hours, sitting close to the jaws of the gaff and chattering nonstop about his frustrations with the gaff halyard blocks.

At midnight, the Trindelen light-ship bore west, distance six or seven miles. Although Cronenborg Castle had been in sight all day, we did not anchor off the town of Elsineur (the wind being so light) until six o'clock on Friday evening. Immediately on our arrival, a boat was sent ashore to deliver the vessel's papers; for, though the ancient privileges of Cronenborg are not held with such paramount sovereignty as they used to be of yore, some form, and merely form, is, however, observed. For instance—in passing the castle, the ensign [Pg 50]of the country to which the vessel belongs must be hoisted at the peak, or at the fore, according to the character of the vessel; and, should this regulation be encroached upon, a gun from the citadel is immediately fired, and is followed by others until the flag is hoisted, and continues to be fired until the flag is seen at its proper place; and, when the commotion is at an end, an artillery officer, or his deputy, boards the refractory vessel and demands payment, (every gun, fired, at so much) for the powder expended in bringing the crew to their senses. Many droll scenes occur between the Castle and the Dutch merchant-vessels going up the Baltic; for the Dutchmen, either from their unwieldiness, or from the confused cargo they carry, cannot always be made, on the instant, to conform to some of these regulations; and the artillerymen, being desirous of profiting by the apparent negligence, knowing well the cause, open an unremitting cannonade on the passive Hollanders, and, in the course of a few minutes, will run up a tolerably long bill.

At midnight, the Trindelen light-ship headed west, about six or seven miles away. Even though Cronenborg Castle had been visible all day, we didn’t anchor near the town of Elsineur (since the wind was so light) until six o'clock on Friday evening. Once we arrived, a boat was sent to shore to deliver the vessel's paperwork; although the ancient privileges of Cronenborg aren't as strictly enforced as they used to be, some formality is still followed. For example—when passing the castle, the flag of the country the vessel belongs to must be raised at the top or at the front, depending on the type of ship; and if this rule is ignored, a cannon from the citadel is fired immediately, followed by more shots until the flag is raised, continuing to fire until the flag is in its proper place. When the fuss is over, an artillery officer, or their deputy, boards the defiant vessel and demands payment (for every shot fired, a certain amount) for the gunpowder used to get the crew to comply. Many amusing incidents happen between the Castle and the Dutch merchant ships heading up the Baltic; since the Dutch, either due to their clumsiness or their disorganized cargo, can’t always instantly follow these rules, the artillerymen, looking to profit from the situation, knowing the reason, will launch a relentless cannonade at the unsuspecting Dutch, and within a few minutes, they'll rack up quite a hefty bill.

The night was most beautiful, and the sea calm as death. The fine old Castle of Cronenborg, casting a dark shadow over the water even to the vessel's side, made me dream of days and legends gone by as I remained silently gazing on its elegant tower. My mind, filled with melancholy fancies, flew to centuries long past, when the philosophic Hamlet mused, perhaps, on calm evenings like this, pacing to [Pg 51]and fro the very ramparts I was looking on, or sought, on that night of "a nipping and an eager air," the coming of him whose

The night was beautiful, and the sea was calm as could be. The majestic old Castle of Cronenborg, casting a dark shadow over the water right next to the boat, made me think of days and legends from the past as I quietly stared at its elegant tower. My mind, filled with wistful thoughts, flew back to centuries long gone, when the thoughtful Hamlet mused, maybe, on still evenings like this, walking back and forth along the very ramparts I was looking at, or sought, on that night of "a nipping and an eager air," the arrival of him whose

"Form and cause conjoined, preaching to stones,
 Would make them capable."

"When form and cause unite, conversing with stones,"
"They would become capable."

Those old walls, too, are full of poor, Struensee's fate,—he, whose great soul, sundering aristocratic power, first gave liberty to Denmark, and added to her natural blessings the moral beauty of our own dear England. And how does history speak?

Those old walls are also filled with the sad story of Struensee—he who, with his remarkable spirit, broke apart the aristocratic power and first brought freedom to Denmark, adding to her natural gifts the moral beauty of our beloved England. And what does history say?

On the 16th of June, 1772, a masked ball was given at the Court of Denmark, surpassing the imaginary brilliancy of an Oriental tale. A thousand tapers threw their splendour over a scene already glittering with the beauty, youth, and power of Copenhagen. The mean and daily feelings which give impulse to the actions of political men, seemed absorbed in the joyousness of the moment; and the gravest senators might have been seen on this night, unravelling the mazes of the dance, with the speed and light-heartedness of the youngest girl. The king himself, throwing aside the apathetic reserve of his state, danced a country-dance with the queen; and, at its conclusion, he having retired to play at quadrille with General Gahler and Counsellor Struensee, the youthful queen gave her hand to Count Struensee during the remainder of the evening. At one end of the room, apart from all, and apparently [Pg 52]lost in their own thoughts, stood the Dowager-queen, and her son, Prince Frederick. While his royal mother shone with the dazzling brightness of numberless precious stones attired in all the outward pomp of her high position, the Prince was habited in the splendid uniform of a Danish regiment of horse; and the most honourable Order of the Elephant, surmounted with a castle, set in diamonds, and suspended to a sky-blue watered ribbon, passed over his right shoulder; a white ribbon from which depended a small cross of diamonds, and an embroidered star on the breast of his coat denoted him to be also a Knight of the most ancient Order of Daneburg.

On June 16, 1772, a masked ball was held at the Court of Denmark, surpassing the imagined splendor of an Oriental tale. A thousand candles cast their glow over a scene already sparkling with the beauty, youth, and power of Copenhagen. The everyday emotions that usually drive political actions seemed to fade away in the joy of the moment; the gravest senators could be seen that night, navigating the dance floor with the speed and lightness of the youngest girl. The king himself, shedding the cold distance of his role, danced a country dance with the queen; and after that, he retired to play quadrille with General Gahler and Counselor Struensee, while the young queen spent the rest of the evening with Count Struensee. At one end of the room, apart from everyone else and seemingly lost in their own thoughts, stood the Dowager Queen and her son, Prince Frederick. While his royal mother sparkled with the dazzling brightness of countless precious stones, dressed in the full regalia of her high status, the prince wore the splendid uniform of a Danish cavalry regiment. The honorable Order of the Elephant, featuring a castle set in diamonds, hung from a sky-blue ribbon across his right shoulder; a white ribbon from which a small diamond cross dangled, along with an embroidered star on his coat, marked him as a Knight of the most ancient Order of Daneburg.

Keeping their eyes intently fixed on the beautiful Caroline-Matilda, as she moved through the dance with Count Struensee, they would occasionally, in whispers, make an observation to each other, but in tones so low, that their nearest attendants could not catch its purport. The young Queen, fatigued at last, retired at two o'clock from the ball-room, followed by Struensee and Count Brandt. About four the same morning, Prince Frederick got up and dressed himself, and went with his mother to the King's bed-chamber, accompanied by General Eichstedt and Count Rantzan. As soon as they had reached the lobby of the royal chamber, the page was roused, and ordered to awake the King; and, in the midst of the surprise and alarm that this unexpected [Pg 53]intrusion excited, they informed him, that his Queen and the two Struensees were at that instant busy in drawing up an act of renunciation of the crown, which they would immediately afterwards compel him to sign; and, that the only means he could use to prevent so imminent a danger, was to validate by his signature those orders, without loss of time, which they had brought with them, for arresting the Queen and her accomplices. The King hesitated for some time, and, it is said, was not easily prevailed upon to sign these orders; but at length complied, though with reluctance and expressions of great grief. Count Rantzan and three officers were dispatched, at that untimely hour, to the Queen's apartment, and immediately arrested her. She was hurried into one of the King's carriages, and conveyed at once to the Castle of Cronenborg, where she remained until May, when the King of England sent a small squadron of ships to carry her to Germany. The City of Zell was appointed her place of residence, where she died of a malignant fever on the 10th of May, 1775, at the early age of twenty-three. Some most unjust charges, in connection with the Queen, Caroline-Matilda, were brought against Struensee, and, on the 28th April, 1772, he was, together with his old friend, Count Brandt, beheaded, his right hand being previously cut off.

Keeping their eyes fixed on the beautiful Caroline-Matilda as she danced with Count Struensee, they would occasionally whisper observations to each other, but their voices were so low that even the closest attendants couldn't catch what they said. The young Queen, finally worn out, left the ballroom at two o'clock, followed by Struensee and Count Brandt. Around four that same morning, Prince Frederick got up, got dressed, and went with his mother to the King’s bedroom, accompanied by General Eichstedt and Count Rantzan. As soon as they reached the lobby of the royal chamber, they woke the page and ordered him to rouse the King. Amid the surprise and alarm caused by this unexpected intrusion, they informed him that his Queen and the two Struensees were currently working on a document to renounce the crown, which they would soon force him to sign. They warned him that the only way to avert this imminent danger was to promptly validate, with his signature, the orders they had brought for arresting the Queen and her accomplices. The King hesitated for a while and was reportedly reluctant to sign these orders, but eventually he complied, though with great sadness. Count Rantzan and three officers were dispatched at that late hour to the Queen’s quarters, where they immediately arrested her. She was hurried into one of the King’s carriages and taken to the Castle of Cronenborg, where she remained until May, when the King of England sent a small fleet of ships to take her to Germany. The City of Zell was designated as her residence, where she died from a severe fever on May 10, 1775, at the young age of twenty-three. Some unjust accusations related to Queen Caroline-Matilda were made against Struensee, and on April 28, 1772, he was beheaded along with his old friend, Count Brandt, after having his right hand cut off.

[Pg 54]Caroline-Matilda was the sister of George III.; and her infant son, the late King of Denmark, Christian VIII., was at this period taken from his mother, though only five years of age; and this separation from her little son, on whom she doted, hastened to an untimely grave this innocent and unfortunate queen.

[Pg 54]Caroline-Matilda was the sister of George III, and her young son, the recently deceased King of Denmark, Christian VIII, was taken from her at just five years old. This separation from her beloved son, whom she cherished deeply, contributed to the premature death of this innocent and unfortunate queen.

The Danish traditions say that for many ages the clang of arms, and groans of human beings, as if in torture, were occasionally heard in the dismal vaults beneath the Castle of Cronenborg. No human creature knew the cause of these strange noises, and desirous, as all people were, to learn the mystery, there was not in all the land of Denmark a man bold enough to descend into the vaults. The sentinels, as they kept watch by night, would be driven by superstitious terror from their posts, nor could they be induced to resume their duty. On stormy nights, when the rain descended, and thunder and lightning disturbed the face of nature, these unearthly sounds would begin, at first by low moans, to join the universal din; then, increasing loud and more loud, add horror to the raging elements. At last, a poor serf, who had forfeited his life, was told that all the errors of his youth should be regarded no more, and his crimes be forgiven, if he would descend and bring intelligence to his countrymen of what he saw and found in these vaults. Oppressed [Pg 55]by the ignominy of his fate, he went down, and following, carefully, to an immense depth, the winding of a stone staircase, came to an iron door, which opened, as if by a spring, when he knocked. He entered, and found himself on the brink of a deep vault. In the centre of the ceiling hung a lamp, which was nearly burnt out, and, by its flickering light, he saw, below, a huge stone table, round which many warriors, clad in armour, sate, resting, as if in slumber, their heads on their arms, which they laid crossways. He who reclined at the farthest end of the table—a man of great stature—then rose up. It was Holger, the Dane. When he raised his head from his arms, the foundations of the vault shook, and the stone table burst instantly in twain, for his beard had grown through it. He beckoned the slave to approach; and, when he had come near, said,

The Danish traditions say that for many ages, the sound of clashing weapons and cries of pain, like those of people in torment, were occasionally heard in the dark vaults beneath the Castle of Cronenborg. No one knew the source of these strange noises, and despite everyone's curiosity to uncover the mystery, there wasn't a single person in all of Denmark brave enough to venture into the vaults. The guards on night watch would often be driven away from their posts by superstitious fear, and they could not be persuaded to return. On stormy nights, when rain poured down and thunder and lightning wreaked havoc outside, these ghostly sounds would start with low moans, blending into the chaotic noise; then, they would grow louder and more terrifying, adding to the fury of the elements. Eventually, a poor serf, condemned to death, was told that all the wrongs of his youth would be forgotten and his crimes forgiven if he went down and reported back to his fellow countrymen on what he saw in those vaults. Burdened by the shame of his fate, he descended, carefully following the winding stone staircase to great depths until he reached an iron door that opened as if by a spring when he knocked. He stepped inside and found himself at the edge of a deep vault. In the center of the ceiling hung a lamp, nearly burnt out, and by its flickering light, he saw a large stone table below, surrounded by many armored warriors who looked like they were resting, their heads on their arms laid across the table. The man sitting at the far end—a towering figure—then rose. It was Holger, the Dane. When he lifted his head from his arms, the very foundations of the vault shook, and the stone table split apart because his beard had grown through it. He gestured for the serf to come closer, and when he approached, he said,

"Give me thy hand!"

"Give me your hand!"

The slave, alarmed, durst not give him the hand he had required, but, taking up an iron bar from the ground, put it forth; and Holger, grasping it, indented it with his fingers. This friendly response (for Holger perceived not the difference between flesh and iron,) to the feelings of Holger made a deep impression on his heart, unaccustomed though it had been for centuries to the sympathy of his kind, and smiling, he muttered to the trembling slave,

The slave, frightened, didn’t dare give him the hand he wanted, but instead, picked up an iron bar from the ground and offered it. Holger took it and squeezed it with his fingers. This kind gesture (since Holger didn’t see a difference between flesh and iron) touched Holger’s heart deeply, even though it hadn’t felt kindness from others in centuries. Smiling, he quietly said to the shaking slave,

[Pg 56]"It is well! I am glad that there are yet men in Denmark."

[Pg 56]"That's great! I'm happy to see that there are still men in Denmark."

The serf returned to earth as soon as permission was obtained, and, relating the story exactly as I have repeated it, received his freedom and a pension from the king.

The serf went back to the land as soon as he got permission and, telling the story just as I have shared it, received his freedom and a pension from the king.

The Castle of Cronenborg was commenced by Frederick II. in 1574, and finished by Christian IV.

The Castle of Cronenborg was started by Frederick II in 1574 and completed by Christian IV.

The boat returned at eight o'clock, and brought off some bread; but it was so hard and heavy, we could not touch it, though some Danes, who had accompanied our men from the shore, assured us it was the best bread baked in Elsineur, and eaten by the native nobility. It was darker in colour than the brown bread in England; and so acid, that the sailors, who were cormorants at food, and ostriches in digestion, declined the loaf as a gift. Sailor ate it, and had the cholic for three weeks.

The boat came back at eight o'clock, bringing some bread, but it was so hard and heavy that we couldn't eat it. Some Danes who had come with our men from the shore insisted it was the best bread baked in Elsinore and enjoyed by the local nobility. It was darker than the brown bread in England and so sour that the sailors, who could usually eat anything and had strong stomachs, refused it as a gift. One sailor did eat it and ended up with stomach issues for three weeks.

Earlier than the sun I arose on Saturday morning. From the spot where the yacht lay at anchor, the town of Elsineur had an imposing appearance; and, besides the number of fishing-vessels which kept popping out of the harbour, one by one, round the pier-head, at this early time, amidst the shouts and merry laughter of their crews, betokening the light hearts with which they went forth to their daily labour,—the wind-mills on the tops of the neighbouring hills, outvying each other in [Pg 57]velocity, showed that the inhabitants entertained, at least, habits of industry, and were not, perhaps, unacquainted with the advantages of traffic. But, since we did not land to-day, I will revert to this celebrated little town on our return from Copenhagen, when, I hope, to make myself more familiar with it.

Earlier than the sun, I got up on Saturday morning. From where the yacht was anchored, the town of Elsineur looked impressive; and in addition to the fishing boats that kept emerging from the harbor, one by one, around the pier head, at this early hour, amidst the cheers and laughter of their crews, showing the cheerful spirits with which they headed out for their daily work—the windmills on the nearby hills, competing with each other in [Pg 57]speed, indicated that the locals had at least established a work ethic and were probably familiar with the benefits of trade. However, since we didn’t go ashore today, I’ll talk about this famous little town when we return from Copenhagen, as I hope to get to know it better then.







CHAPTER IV.

THE PILOT—TEMPESTUOUS WEATHER—DISTANT VIEW OF COPENHAGEN—LORD NELSON—THE BATTLE OF THE BALTIC—THE HARBOUR-MASTER—INTEREST EXCITED BY THE YACHT'S ARRIVAL—THE ARTIST—THE ANGLER—WE GO ASHORE.

THE PILOT—STORMY WEATHER—FAR-OFF VIEW OF COPENHAGEN—LORD NELSON—THE BATTLE OF THE BALTIC—THE HARBOUR-MASTER—INTEREST SPARKED BY THE YACHT'S ARRIVAL—THE ARTIST—THE FISHERMAN—WE GO ASHORE.


At twelve o'clock the pilot stepped on board, and, in a few minutes, with a freshening wind from the westward, we were on our way to the Danish capital. To a warm, unclouded morning, a wet dark day succeeded; and, except between the chasms of flying clouds, the sun wholly withheld its light. The rain fell, at intervals, in torrents; and, concealing myself under the lee of the gig, which was hoisted on the davits, I endeavoured to enter into conversation with the pilot. The silvery hand of time, or heavier one of toil, had tinged his hair; and though (to judge from his sad and thoughtful mien,) life seemed protracted longer than he wished, his career, I learned by hints, had not been without excitement to himself, and could not be recited without interest and instruction to others. [Pg 59]The old man was short and stout, and little gray eyes twinkled beneath an intellectual forehead, scarred by a sabre wound. After I had watched him with attention for some time, his firmly-compressed lips and sombre countenance showed the solidity of his character, and no weak point at which I might attack him with an observation. Sailor, who had been reclining in his hutch, disliking to wet his hide, and who was still labouring from the ill effects of the Danish brown bread, now came forth to stretch himself; and, seeing a man, unknown, standing by the compass-box, approached, and, with all the diffidence of his tribe, determined to form no friendship, without previously ascertaining whence he came, and what his business was. Sailor therefore walked with resolution up to the man, and smelt his coat. The dog also applied his nose to a little bundle tied with a dark silk handkerchief stowed unintrusively away between the pumps; and then, turning round, he looked up at me, and wagged his tail. I could almost see a smile upon his face. The old man laughed, and said, half nettled by Sailor's contemptuous way of smelling his whole wardrobe, "Dat is von vine dog."

At noon, the pilot boarded the ship, and within minutes, with a fresh wind from the west, we were on our way to the Danish capital. A warm, clear morning turned into a wet, dark day; and except for the gaps between the fast-moving clouds, the sun kept its light hidden. Rain poured down in torrents at intervals; hiding under the shelter of the lifeboat hoisted on the davits, I tried to strike up a conversation with the pilot. The silver strands of age or the heavier burden of work had touched his hair, and although his sad and thoughtful expression suggested that life had lasted longer than he wanted, I picked up hints that his life had been exciting and would prove to be interesting and instructive to others. [Pg 59]The old man was short and stocky, with little gray eyes that twinkled beneath an intelligent forehead, scarred by a sword wound. After observing him for a while, his tightly pressed lips and serious face revealed the strength of his character, showing no weaknesses I could exploit with a comment. Sailor, who had been lounging in his spot, reluctant to get wet and still feeling the effects of the Danish brown bread, finally came out to stretch. Spotting an unknown man by the compass box, he approached with the typical hesitation of his kind, deciding against forming any friendship without first figuring out where the man came from and what he was about. Sailor confidently walked up to the man and sniffed his coat. He also poked his nose into a small bundle tied with a dark silk handkerchief tucked away between the pumps. Then, turning back, he looked up at me and wagged his tail. I could almost see a smile on his face. The old man chuckled, slightly annoyed by Sailor's disdainful inspection of his outfit, saying, "That is one fine dog."

Though the allusion to the dog's well-proportioned form, or extreme sagacity, was one which answered itself, I replied,

Though the reference to the dog's well-proportioned body or remarkable intelligence was self-evident, I replied,

"Yes; and that is the way he makes friends."

"Yeah; and that's how he makes friends."

[Pg 60]"I know, I know," he answered, "if von maan's schmell vosh as goot, ve shoult schmell de tief vary shoon."

[Pg 60]"I get it, I get it," he replied, "if von maan's smell is as good, we should smell the deep very soon."

"True; but if we are fond of sweet scents, and had to judge virtue and vice by smell, we should very soon leave off smelling, or leave the world."

"That's true; but if we really liked sweet scents and had to judge good and bad by smell, we would quickly stop smelling or just leave the world."

He did not seem to comprehend my meaning, for a vague expression of neither assent nor dissent passed over his countenance. He now, however, became talkative, and told me he commenced life by entering the Danish navy, and had been present in many engagements. Travelling from one end of the world to the other, though seated together under the gig's keel, and wrapped in tarpaulin, we contrived to meet in the West Indies; and the old sailor's heart opened towards me as I spoke of scenes and things familiar to him in his youth. I told him how I had been going "up and down on the earth," and "walking to and fro on it;" and he took my hand in his and shook it, because I, like him, had been a wanderer. And so we whiled away the time, and heard and felt neither wind nor rain.

He didn’t seem to get what I meant, as a faint look of neither agreement nor disagreement crossed his face. However, he soon became chatty and told me that he started his life by joining the Danish navy and had been involved in many battles. Traveling from one side of the world to the other, even while sitting together under the gig's keel and wrapped in tarpaulin, we managed to meet in the West Indies. The old sailor warmed up to me when I talked about places and things he recognized from his youth. I shared how I had been “going up and down on the earth" and "walking to and fro on it,” and he took my hand and shook it because, like him, I had also been a wanderer. We passed the time without noticing the wind or rain.

P—— had gone below to arrange his flies; and I could occasionally hear R——'s voice, above the whistling of the wind through the shrouds, modulating "Buffalo Gals," "The Great Plenipotentiary," and other favourite ballads. We were now half way between Elsineur [Pg 61]and Copenhagen, and rising above a cape of level land on our starboard bow, the high buildings and steeples of Copenhagen could be distinguished. I formed, from this view, a grand idea of the Northern Capital, and, had I not done so, I might have been less disappointed, beautiful though the city is, when I found myself the following day walking through its streets. But the same event happens to man's works as to man himself. The nearer I view a picture, the harsher become those lines which, at a distance, seemed so soft; and had I seen Cæsar, I should not now worship the deity I have raised on the pedestal of Imagination. I desire to foster the poetic feeling which, like a mountain mist, surrounds the ordinary habits and character of great men, and so I stand aloof and look on them. I exist on the Pagan creed,

P—— had gone below to sort out his fishing flies, and I could sometimes hear R——'s voice above the howling wind in the sails, singing "Buffalo Gals," "The Great Plenipotentiary," and other favorite songs. We were now halfway between Elsineur [Pg 61] and Copenhagen, and rising above a flat stretch of land on our right, the tall buildings and steeples of Copenhagen were starting to come into view. From this perspective, I had a grand impression of the Northern Capital, and if I hadn’t, I might have been less disappointed—beautiful as the city is—when I found myself wandering through its streets the next day. But the same thing happens to human creations as it does to people themselves. The closer I get to a painting, the harsher the lines become that, from a distance, seemed so soft; and had I met Cæsar in person, I wouldn’t now idolize the figure I’ve constructed in my imagination. I want to nurture the poetic sentiment that, like mountain mist, wraps around the everyday lives and characters of great men, and so I keep my distance and observe them. I thrive on the Pagan belief,

"Omne ignotum pro magnifico."

"Everything unknown is considered great."

The pilot, pointing with his finger, showed the spot where Nelson landed some of his men the day before his action in 1801; and, as the Dane reminded me of the crafty manner in which the officers of the English fleet imposed on the credulity of the good folks at Elsineur, the sound of distant thunder was heard. He ceased to speak, and listened to the low, rumbling peals, as they swelled, now loudly on the tops of the far mountains of Sweden, then sank faintly in the valleys. [Pg 62]The old man went on to say, he remembered the action well; and, with bitterness, regretted that it ever occurred. This was the first time I had heard England spoken of discreditably, and the arrow pierced deep, and deeper, as familiar intercourse told, that the Danes, a brave and noble people themselves, always remember this battle with a sorrowful resignation, and grieving, feel, without vindictiveness, that, though Time may heal the outward wound, the moral pain remains for ever.

The pilot, pointing with his finger, showed the spot where Nelson landed some of his men the day before his action in 1801. As the Dane reminded me of the sneaky way the officers of the English fleet took advantage of the gullibility of the good folks in Elsineur, we heard the sound of distant thunder. He stopped speaking and listened to the low, rumbling noises, which swelled loudly on the distant mountains of Sweden and then faded softly in the valleys. [Pg 62] The old man continued, saying he remembered the battle well and bitterly regretted that it ever happened. This was the first time I had heard England talked about negatively, and the remark struck deep, especially as I learned that the Danes, who are a brave and noble people themselves, always remember this battle with a sense of sorrowful acceptance. They feel, without malice, that although Time may heal the outward wound, the moral pain lingers forever.

The scenery all along this coast of Denmark is very beautiful, the royal forests, extending nearly from Elsineur to Copenhagen, contributing with their masses of trees, and their rich green tints, to relieve the occasional gloomy aspect of the Swedish shore. These forests are strictly preserved, and are full of game; and, reared above the loftiest trees, the roof of one of the king's hunting-palaces may be seen. With its usual bounty, the wind increased to a gale, and we entered Copenhagen harbour at three o'clock, with a reef in the mainsail, and ploughing up the water in furious fashion.

The scenery along this coast of Denmark is stunning, with the royal forests stretching almost from Elsineur to Copenhagen, adding their thick trees and rich green hues to brighten up the sometimes bleak look of the Swedish shore. These forests are well-protected and full of wildlife; you can also see the roof of one of the king's hunting lodges rising above the tallest trees. As usual, the wind picked up to a strong gale, and we entered Copenhagen harbor at three o'clock, with a reef in the mainsail, cutting through the water fiercely.

The Harbour-Master came on board as soon as we had anchored, and requested, with much civility, that we would move from the berth we had taken, since we obstructed the free passage between the docks and the harbour; and the cutter, he hinted, might be injured by merchant-vessels being warped [Pg 63]from one to the other place. R—— made no demur; but turned round, and rated in good English the old pilot for his stupidity; while the old pilot, in unintelligible Danish, roared at his countryman for not coming off before the anchor had gone. When the little stout pilot was pacified, and unanimity restored, the Harbour-Master, a man of immense stature, and great personal beauty, came up to me, and said, with an excellent dialect, in the English language,

The Harbour-Master came on board as soon as we had anchored and politely asked us to move from the spot we had taken, as we were blocking the free passage between the docks and the harbor. He hinted that the cutter could be damaged by merchant vessels being pulled [Pg 63] from one side to the other. R—— didn’t argue and instead turned around, scolding the old pilot for his foolishness in clear English. The old pilot, in some garbled Danish, yelled at his fellow countryman for not coming over before the anchor dropped. Once the little stout pilot calmed down and peace was restored, the Harbour-Master, a tall man with great personal charm, approached me and spoke in a nice accent, in English.

"I could perceive, Sir, your vessel was an English one, the moment she weathered that point; for none but a British vessel could dash along in such style as yours did."

"I could tell, Sir, that your ship was British the moment it rounded that point; no one but a British ship could move with such flair as yours did."

I bowed, and thanked him for the compliment.

I nodded and thanked him for the compliment.

"I only hope, Sir," he continued, "that the Crown Prince will return before you leave Copenhagen; for this yacht would soon disgust him with his own."

"I just hope, Sir," he continued, "that the Crown Prince will come back before you leave Copenhagen; because this yacht would quickly make him tired of his own."

"Is the Prince then away from Copenhagen?" I asked.

"Is the Prince not in Copenhagen then?" I asked.

"Yes, Sir; he is gone for a cruise towards the Baltic, and that is the reason you have not met him on the passage here. He is partial to the English; and so are we. He would have chased you; but, Sir, his yacht is no better than a fisherman's smack."

"Yes, Sir; he has gone on a cruise to the Baltic, which is why you haven't encountered him on your way here. He has a preference for the English, and so do we. He would have pursued you, but, Sir, his yacht is no better than a fisherman's boat."

After a multitude of other aspirations, that we might encounter the Crown Prince, now, by the way, king, to disgust him with his [Pg 64]property, the Dane took his leave; and, although his bland, Saxon face, with his seemingly open disposition, drew me towards him, I was not sorry to be alone.

After many other hopes, hoping to meet the Crown Prince, who is now king, to annoy him with his [Pg 64]property, the Dane said goodbye; and even though his friendly, Saxon face and seemingly open personality made me feel drawn to him, I was glad to be alone.

The sun seemed at last to have gained its desire, by lulling the wind, and, instead of bursting, fretfully, through squally clouds, now shone forth with warmth and unblemished splendour. Many ladies and gentlemen walked up and down on a promenade, evidently a favourite and fashionable lounge, within the ramparts of a citadel, bristling with guns of tremendous calibre, not a cable's length from the Iris; so, that, I could see, without being much observed, the gaiety which was in vogue, and could almost hear, did I understand the language, the anxiety expressed to know what and whence we were. The ladies in their French pink bonnets, and English dresses, pointed, gathering in knots, to the white Ensign and red cross of St. George,—which drooping, dipped, like a swallow, to the water's surface, then floated lazily in the air,—and concluded at once in their sweet minds from what part of the sunny South we came, and what the errand was which had brought us so far from home to Denmark. I could almost tell, by the fervour of their manner, how the men viewed with admiration the slight downward curve of the cutter's bowsprit, her burnished copper, and low, raking hull. Boats of all sizes and shapes, each containing a cargo, varying from [Pg 65]four to thirteen persons, put off from the shore, and each individual whispering one to the other, that we were English, paddled round the cutter. Removed at a short distance from the little fleet, like the leading drake of a flock of ducks, a boat, rowed by a sailor and carrying two gentlemen, one with spectacles, standing, and the other quietly seated, steering, described continuously an elliptical circle round and round the vessel. Now and then, the gentleman, who stood, would make an exclamation to his companion, but whether of admiration or dislike, I had no other means of conjecturing than from the frequency with which he arranged, disarranged, and re-arranged his spectacles, first, fixing them tightly to the bridge of his nose, then, unfixing them, with a pettish jerk, to wipe them with his handkerchief, and, at last, refixing them with much precision, by removing the hat from his head and clasping it between his knees, till the yielding pasteboard crackled again. This circumnavigation continued for some time, much to my amusement, but more to the annoyance of Sailor, who leaped from stern to bow, following the motion of the boat, and barked, till the echo of his voice struck sharply against the bastions of Fredrikshavn, then flew, bounding, back again.

The sun finally seemed to have gotten what it wanted by calming the wind, and instead of anxiously breaking through messy clouds, it now shone brightly and warmly. Many ladies and gentlemen strolled along a promenade, clearly a popular and trendy spot, within the walls of a citadel filled with large cannons, not far from the Iris. This allowed me to notice, without being too visible, the cheerful atmosphere that was in style, and I could almost hear, if I understood the language, their curiosity about who we were and where we came from. The ladies, in their pink French bonnets and English dresses, pointed and gathered in small groups, eyeing the white Ensign and the red cross of St. George—as it dipped gracefully like a swallow to the water's surface before lazily floating in the air—and they quickly concluded in their sweet minds from what part of the sunny South we hailed and what business brought us so far from home to Denmark. I could almost tell by their excited demeanor how the men admired the slight downward curve of the cutter's bowsprit, its shiny copper, and its sleek, low hull. Boats of all sizes and shapes, each carrying a load of between [Pg 65] four to thirteen people, set out from the shore, whispering to each other that we were English as they paddled around the cutter. A little distance away from this small fleet, like the leading drake in a flock of ducks, a boat rowed by a sailor and carrying two gentlemen—one standing with spectacles, the other seated and steering—kept moving in an elliptical circle around our vessel. Every now and then, the standing gentleman would shout something to his companion, but I could only guess whether it was praise or criticism based on how often he adjusted, unadjusted, and readjusted his glasses—first pinching them tightly to the bridge of his nose, then pulling them off in a huff to wipe them with his handkerchief, and finally putting them back on precisely, removing his hat and pressing it against his knees until the soft cardboard crinkled. This circling went on for quite a while, entertaining me but frustrating Sailor, who jumped from the back to the front of the boat, matching its movements, barking until his voice echoed sharply against the walls of Fredrikshavn and then bounced back to him.

At last, the boat was pulled boldly to the gangway, and the excitable gentleman in spectacles, seizing hold of the after-braces, bowed [Pg 66]and handed me a card, and begged, in bad French, that he might be permitted to come on board. Permission was soon obtained from R——, and, with hat in hand, on board the Dane, as I fancied, jumped, accompanied, of course, by the other gentleman. The whiteness of the deck attracted his attention, and turning to me he made, smiling, an observation in a language which I did not understand, but could not help desiring to hear its silvery sounds again.

At last, the boat was boldly pulled up to the gangway, and the excited guy in glasses, grabbing the after-braces, bowed [Pg 66] and handed me a card, asking in poor French if he could come on board. Permission was quickly granted by R——, and, with his hat in hand, he jumped on board the Dane, as I imagined, along with the other guy. The brightness of the deck caught his eye, and turning to me, he made a smiling remark in a language I didn't understand, but I couldn't help wanting to hear its lovely sounds again.

"Vous n'êtes pas Français?" he then asked.

"You're not French?" he then asked.

"Non, je ne suis pas."

"No, I'm not."

"Mais la langue, ne la comprenez-vous pas?"

"But the language, don't you understand it?"

"Pas beaucoup," I replied.

"Not much," I replied.

"Dat is pitty; for I have been for shome toime past in Ingerlaand, but I not learn ze langwage. Ze Ingerleesh varry difficolt."

"That's a pity; because I have been in England for some time now, but I haven't learned the language. English is very difficult."

"You seemed," I replied, "to have overcome that difficulty, and you speak it with a pretty good accent."

"You seemed," I replied, "to have gotten past that difficulty, and you speak it with a pretty good accent."

"No, Zare, you varry goot to say so; but I feel I can at all not—at all not,—qu'est que veut dire, 'exprimer?'—ach! ach!" he exclaimed, putting his finger in his mouth, and pressing it, meditatively, between his front teeth, "I can at all not speak moin feeling in ze vay I shoult vish."

"No, Zare, you really have a point; but I feel like I can't—can't at all—what does 'express' mean?—oh dear!" he exclaimed, putting his finger in his mouth and thoughtfully pressing it against his front teeth, "I just can't express my feelings in the way I wish I could."

"How long were you in England?" I said.

"How long were you in England?" I asked.

"En fjor—une année," he replied.

"Last year," he replied.

"If then, Sir," I went on, "after being one year in Denmark, I can speak the language so [Pg 67]correctly as you do the English, I should think myself no deficient scholar."

"If, then, sir," I continued, "after spending a year in Denmark, if I can speak the language as [Pg 67] accurately as you do English, I would consider myself a competent scholar."

"Oh! Zare, you too goot. I am not Dane, zough; I am from Sweden—ffrān Svenska landet; but I come to Kjobenhagen for ze painting. Zare," he said, turning round, and looking from stem to stern, and from the burgee at the top-mast head to the brass belaying pins, "dish Engelskt skepp varry—ach! ach!" again he exclaimed, stamping his foot and thrusting his finger in his mouth, "fy!—vat you call 'skönt'?"

"Oh! You’re so good, Zare. I’m not Danish, though; I'm from Sweden—from the Swedish land; but I came to Copenhagen for the painting. Zare," he said, turning around and looking from one end to the other, and from the flag at the top of the mast to the brass belaying pins, "this English ship is very—oh! oh!" he exclaimed again, stamping his foot and putting his finger in his mouth, "yuck!—what do you call 'beautiful'?"

"Fine, beautiful," I said, assistingly.

"Great, beautiful," I said, assisting.

"Ja; jag tackar. Det är skönt!" he exclaimed to his companion, who bowed in assent, and observed in the Swedish tongue,

"Yeah; thanks. That feels great!" he exclaimed to his companion, who nodded in agreement and remarked in Swedish,

"Det ser ut som en fregatt;" which, being interpreted, meant that the yacht was like a frigate.

"Det ser ut som en fregatt;" which, interpreted, meant that the yacht resembled a frigate.

"Ja," answered my friend; and, after allowing time that they might admire everything, which they did, walking to and fro the deck, looking down the pumps and up the rigging, I requested that they would follow me, and I would show them below. The compactness of the cabin, the comfort of the berths, the height between decks, the combination of ease and elegance in the furniture, the copper-plate drawings, the swinging table, the pantry with every drawer and cupboard exactly where they ought to be, and nowhere else, the forecastle, and, wonder upon wonder! the cooking [Pg 68]apparatus with its moveable jack, and its particular copper for hot water,—all these things, and a thousand others too minute to tell, acted so impressively on their minds, that I could hear them extolling, in barbarous grammar, to the cook the singular sagacity of an English mechanic, and the collective greatness of the English nation. They remained on board nearly three hours; and, after conversing with R——, P——, and myself as well as they could, they presented each of us with their cards, and, begging that we would honour them with a visit, took their leave. I returned on deck with them; and the gentleman, whom I have distinguished from his fellow visitor by his spectacles, before he stepped into his boat, said to me,

"Yes," my friend replied; and after giving them time to admire everything, which they did while walking back and forth on the deck, looking down the pumps and up the rigging, I asked them to follow me so I could show them below. The compactness of the cabin, the comfort of the berths, the height between decks, the blend of comfort and elegance in the furniture, the copper-plate drawings, the swinging table, the pantry with every drawer and cupboard exactly where they should be, and nowhere else, the forecastle, and, wonder upon wonder! the cooking apparatus with its movable jack and its special copper for hot water—all these things, along with a thousand other little details I can't even describe, impressed them so much that I could hear them praising, in broken grammar, to the cook the remarkable cleverness of an English mechanic and the overall greatness of the English nation. They stayed on board for nearly three hours, and after chatting with R——, P——, and me as best they could, they handed each of us their cards and, asking us to do them the honor of a visit, took their leave. I walked back on deck with them, and the gentleman, whom I’ve set apart from his fellow visitor by his glasses, said to me before he stepped into his boat,

"Zare, I can at all not say how mooch dish skepp delight me to look at. I am von artiste, and I should like varry mooch to draw dish skepp."

"Zare, I can’t even express how much this ship delights me to look at. I am an artist, and I would really love to draw this ship."

"I am sure," I replied, "Lord R—— will make no objection, for you compliment him in expressing such a wish."

"I’m sure," I replied, "Lord R—— won't object since you're flattering him by expressing such a wish."

"I tank you, Zare; I can at all not help eet, but I look at dish skepp like von—like von—ach! ach!—" and again the top of the forefinger was lodged in his mouth, "vat is 'skönt'?—bootifool?—jag tacker;—like von bootifool flicka, gal, and ze odare skepps like old vomans."

"I thank you, Zare; I can't help it at all, but I look at this ship like one—like one—ah! ah!" and again the tip of his forefinger was in his mouth, "what is 'skönt'?—beautiful?—I imagine;—like one beautiful girl, gal, and the other ships like old women."

So saying, he raised his hat and gravely wished me good day.

So saying, he tipped his hat and solemnly wished me a good day.

[Pg 69]"Good dag," he exclaimed again, standing upright in the boat—"Farväl!"

[Pg 69] "Good day," he shouted again, standing up in the boat—"Farewell!"

"Good dag. Farväl!" repeated his companion. And still, in an erect position, the gentleman in spectacles kept his eyes fixed on the vessel until a projecting portion of the quay hid the Iris from his sight. I then joined R—— and P—— in the cabin. We were endeavouring to settle what could be done in the evening, and at what point we should commence to see all the lions in Copenhagen, and regretting that we were unacquainted with an Englishman resident in the capital, when the steward gave a very small card, having a very large inscription on it, to R——, and said that a gentleman wished to speak to us. R—— desired that the stranger would walk below.

"Good day. Goodbye!" his companion repeated. Meanwhile, the gentleman in glasses stood tall, keeping his eyes on the ship until a part of the dock blocked the Iris from view. I then joined R—— and P—— in the cabin. We were trying to decide what we could do in the evening and where to start seeing all the attractions in Copenhagen, wishing we knew an Englishman living in the city, when the steward handed a small card with a large message on it to R—— and mentioned that a gentleman wanted to speak with us. R—— asked the stranger to come below.

"Gentlemen," said a stout man about fifty-five years of age, who, with a red face, was standing uncovered at the threshold of the cabin door, "I hope you will forgive the liberty I have taken in boarding your yacht."

"Gentlemen," said a heavyset man around fifty-five, who stood bareheaded at the cabin door with a flushed face, "I hope you'll forgive me for taking the liberty of coming aboard your yacht."

"Oh! yes, certainly," said R——, "I am happy to see a countryman."

"Oh! yes, of course," said R——, "I’m glad to see a fellow countryman."

"That is just my case," replied the stout man, advancing farther into the cabin. "I have been driven from my own country by adversity, and whenever I see an Englishman I cannot resist forming his acquaintance, that I might speak to some one who has come from the land where I was born. Have you seen my card? My name is A—l—r C."

"That's exactly my situation," replied the heavyset man, stepping further into the cabin. "I've been pushed out of my own country by hardship, and whenever I meet an Englishman, I can't help but want to get to know them, so I can talk to someone from the place where I was born. Have you seen my card? My name is A—l—r C."

[Pg 70]"Won't you sit down?" said P——, offering him a chair.

[Pg 70]“Why don’t you take a seat?” said P——, gesturing to a chair.

"I thank you," answered Mr. C——, and sate down. "I suppose you are come to fish."

"I appreciate it," Mr. C—— replied, taking a seat. "I guess you came to fish."

"We are," P—— replied, "and should like to learn something about the art, and the places where it may be applied."

"We are," P—— replied, "and would like to learn something about the art and where it can be applied."

"You can't fish so far to the south as Copenhagen," said Mr. C. "There are no fish here. I suppose you know that?"

"You can't fish this far south, not in Copenhagen," said Mr. C. "There are no fish here. I guess you know that?"

"Yes, we know that," interposed R——, "we are from Christiansand, and there we heard of fish, but caught none."

"Yeah, we know that," interrupted R——, "we're from Christiansand, and there we heard about fish, but didn't catch any."

"That's very likely; the rivers are yet too cold, and will continue so for a month or more. I am an old fisherman," exclaimed Mr. C—— challengingly. "I have caught my sixty in a week;" and he slapped his thigh.

"That's probably true; the rivers are still too cold, and they'll stay that way for a month or more. I'm an experienced fisherman," Mr. C—— said defiantly. "I've caught my sixty in a week," and he slapped his thigh.

P—— rubbed his hands with satisfaction, and R—— rose from the sofa on which he was reclining, and looked at Mr. C—— with curiosity.

P—— rubbed his hands in satisfaction, and R—— got up from the sofa where he had been lounging and looked at Mr. C—— with curiosity.

"Well, now," proceeded Mr. A—l—r C——, "I would suggest, that, you three gentlemen, being in search of pleasure or sport, should remain a few days where you are. After having worn out the enjoyments, and there are many, of Copenhagen, coast it up to Gottenborg, Falkenborg, and so on till you reach Christiania; and at Falkenborg, or Kongsbacka, you may get a few fish. Have you brought any tackle, or flies?"

"Well, now," continued Mr. A—l—r C——, "I suggest that you three gentlemen, being in search of fun or entertainment, stay a few days where you are. After you've enjoyed all that Copenhagen has to offer, which is a lot, make your way up to Gothenburg, Falkenberg, and so on until you reach Oslo; and in Falkenberg or Kongsbacka, you might catch some fish. Did you bring any gear or flies?"

[Pg 71]"Lots of both," said P——, rising at the same moment, and taking from the bookcase behind him his whole fishing apparatus. The fly-book was soon opened, and Mr. C—— scrutinized tackle and flies with the attention of an angler.

[Pg 71]"A lot of both," said P——, standing up at the same time and taking his entire fishing gear from the bookcase behind him. He quickly opened the fly-book, and Mr. C—— examined the tackle and flies with the focus of an angler.

"This is too yellow," he said of one fly, removing it from the book, and placing it on the table for observation. "Here—here's too much red and blue," of another; "there are no flies of that colour in Sweden, or Norway; and all this green on the belly is rubbish,—no fish will take that. What's this? Ha! The dragon-fly,—'t won't do." After rummaging for a little while, he said, "By the Lord Harry! come out!" seizing by the wings a fourth fly about the size of a humming bird. "This'll do for the coast of Greenland where whales are caught. Shall I tell you what?" asked Mr. C——, putting an end to his criticism, and looking round at us all. "Make your own flies. It's impossible for a fellow in the Strand to put a fly together which would suit fishermen like you. Observe the flies and insects of the country as they flutter under your nose, and imitate them the best way you can."

"This is too yellow," he said, removing one fly from the book and placing it on the table for closer inspection. "Here—this one has too much red and blue," he continued; "there are no flies in those colors in Sweden or Norway; and all this green on the belly is nonsense—no fish will bite that. What's this? Oh! A dragon-fly—won't work." After searching for a little while, he exclaimed, "By the Lord Harry! Check this out!" grabbing a fourth fly about the size of a hummingbird by its wings. "This will work for the coast of Greenland where they catch whales. Want to know what?" asked Mr. C——, stopping his critiques and looking around at all of us. "Make your own flies. It's impossible for someone in the Strand to create a fly that would suit fishermen like you. Watch the flies and insects in the area as they buzz around you, and try to imitate them as best as you can."

"That's not a bad idea," was the simultaneous answer of R—— and P——; but they liked not their London-made goods rated so lowly.

"That's not a bad idea," R—— and P—— both replied at the same time; however, they didn't like their London-made products being rated so poorly.

"Now," exclaimed Mr. C——, glancing [Pg 72]steadfastly all round the cabin at each of us, "I hear this yacht belongs to an English nobleman, and the name is familiar to me. Which one of you is Lord R——?"

"Now," said Mr. C——, looking around the cabin at each of us, "I hear this yacht belongs to an English nobleman, and the name sounds familiar. Which one of you is Lord R——?"

P—— and I made no reply; and R——, quite taken a-back, resumed instantly, with a comic air, his declining attitude sideways on the sofa, with his face turned next to the bulk-head.

P—— and I didn't respond; and R——, completely taken aback, immediately continued, in a joking manner, by leaning back sideways on the sofa, with his face turned toward the wall.

"You are Lord R——," continued Mr. C——, pointing to me.

"You are Lord R——," Mr. C—— continued, pointing at me.

"As much as you have exalted me in the grade of society, so much has it pleased Fate at last to depress me," I replied. "That is Lord R——," I continued, pointing to R——, or, at least, towards the centre seam in the back of his pilot-jacket.

"As much as you have elevated my social status, Fate has finally chosen to bring me down," I replied. "That is Lord R——," I added, pointing to R——, or at least to the middle seam on the back of his pilot jacket.

"I hope your Lordship," said old C——, addressing R——'s back front view, "will forgive the robbery of your due; but, had I observed your face, I could not have mistaken you."

"I hope you’ll forgive me, your Lordship," said old C——, speaking to R——’s back, "for taking what was rightfully yours; but if I had seen your face, I wouldn’t have confused you."

R—— rose laughing, and told him no apology was requisite.

R—— stood up laughing and told him no apology was necessary.

"You are very like the pictures I have seen, when I was in England, of the Admiral." Then, after a pause, "What can I do for you, gentlemen?" said Mr. C——. "How can I serve you? To-day is Saturday. Nothing is going on to-night; but if, after dinner, you will allow me to wait on you, I will do my best to amuse in a stroll about the town."

"You look a lot like the pictures I've seen of the Admiral when I was in England." After a moment, Mr. C—— said, "What can I do for you, gentlemen? How can I help? Today is Saturday. There’s nothing happening tonight, but if you let me join you after dinner, I’ll do my best to entertain you with a walk around the town."

[Pg 73]"But won't you dine on board?" asked P——.

[Pg 73]"But aren't you going to eat on the ship?" asked P——.

"I thank you; I have already ordered my own chop," Mr. C—— replied, "and I would in that case beg you to permit my meeting you after I have demolished it. Say half-past seven."

"I thank you; I've already ordered my own chop," Mr. C—— replied, "and in that case, I’d like to ask if I could meet you after I've finished it. Let's say half-past seven."

"As you like," said R——; "but I can give you a good bottle of claret."

“As you wish,” said R——; “but I can offer you a nice bottle of red wine.”

"Thank you, my Lord; but not to-day." And Mr. C. commenced a retrograde motion towards the companion.

"Thank you, my Lord; but not today." And Mr. C. began to move back towards the companion.

"Have you a boat?" inquired R——; "because you can have one of mine, if you like."

"Do you have a boat?" asked R——; "because you can use one of mine if you'd like."

"If you will, I shall feel obliged," replied Mr. C——.

"If you want, I'll be grateful," replied Mr. C---.

"Alfred!" shouted R——, at the top of his lungs.

"Alfred!" shouted R——, at the top of his lungs.

"Yes, my Lord," echoed from the recesses of the pantry, and then the cause of the echo became visible at the door of the pantry.

"Yes, my Lord," echoed from the back of the pantry, and then the source of the echo appeared at the pantry door.

"Man the gig!" said R——.

"Man the gig!" said R——.

"Yes, my Lord," and Alfred again disappeared as quickly as a falling star. A few minutes more, and Mr. C—— was over the gangway, in the gig, and ashore.

"Yes, my Lord," and Alfred vanished again as quickly as a shooting star. A few minutes later, Mr. C—— was over the gangway, in the small boat, and on the shore.







CHAPTER V.

COPENHAGEN—THE CAFE—THE DILEMMA—THE GUARD—COMPLIMENT TO ENGLAND—DESCRIPTION OF THE HARBOUR AND FORTIFICATIONS—DELINQUENT SAILORS—THE CITY ON SUNDAY—NEGRO COMMISSIONAIRE—A WALK THROUGH THE CITY—NOTICES OF THE VARIOUS PUBLIC BUILDINGS.

COPENHAGEN—THE CAFÉ—THE DILEMMA—THE GUARD—COMPLIMENT TO ENGLAND—DESCRIPTION OF THE HARBOUR AND FORTIFICATIONS—DELINQUENT SAILORS—THE CITY ON SUNDAY—BLACK COMMISSION AGENT—A WALK THROUGH THE CITY—NOTICES OF THE VARIOUS PUBLIC BUILDINGS.


Punctual to our engagement, we met Mr. C——, after dinner at half-past seven. After wandering over the town for some time without any definite object, I grumbled at the system of enjoyment we had adopted. The streets not being paved so well as the worst streets in London are, the stones, projecting with sharp points three or four inches above the ground, wound and irritate the feet to a serious extent; and my ankles were almost sprained several times in consequence of the high heels I had to my boots. I recommend thick shoes without heels to the traveller in all the northern capitals.

Punctual to our meeting, we met Mr. C—— after dinner at 7:30. After wandering around the town for a while without any real plan, I complained about the way we were trying to have fun. The streets, not being paved as well as the worst streets in London, had stones sticking up with sharp points three or four inches above the ground, which seriously hurt my feet; I almost sprained my ankles several times because of the high heels on my boots. I recommend thick shoes without heels to anyone traveling in all the northern capitals.

"You are always rusty, Bill," said R——. "Come on."

"You’re always rusty, Bill," said R——. "Let’s go."

"Let us stop," I replied, "and determine where we are going."

"Let’s stop," I said, "and figure out where we’re headed."

We therefore stopped in a large square, at [Pg 75]the base of an equestrian statue, the beauty or imperfection of which I could not see at the late hour; and, with Mr. C—— in the centre, consulted what could be done. Being in ignorance of the habits of the people, and the haunts where amusements existed, we three could only look at each other and be mute.

We stopped in a large square, at [Pg 75]the base of an equestrian statue, the beauty or flaws of which I couldn’t make out in the fading light; and with Mr. C—— in the center, we discussed what to do next. Not knowing the locals’ habits or where the fun spots were, the three of us could only exchange glances and stay silent.

"Come along," at last exclaimed Mr. C——, as if a great idea had dawned on his mind; "let's turn into this café," directing our attention to a spacious building brilliantly illuminated.

"Come on," Mr. C—— finally said, as if a great idea had just struck him; "let's go into this café," pointing out a large building that was brilliantly lit up.

"Port your helm, Jack," said R——, in a jesting tone of voice, and moved quickly away towards the café.

"Turn your helm, Jack," said R——, jokingly, and quickly walked over to the café.

We entered, and to say that we saw anything at our first entrance beyond an atmosphere of tobacco smoke, so thick as to be palpable to the touch, would be out of the question. After opening and closing my eyes twice or three times, and, wiping away the tears which the pungent tobacco smoke excited, I began to take an observation.

We walked in, and honestly, there was nothing to see at first except for a thick cloud of tobacco smoke that you could almost feel. After blinking a couple of times and wiping away the tears caused by the strong smoke, I started to take a good look around.

The room in which I found myself was literally crammed with men of all denominations and all ages, and each having a cigar in his mouth in full play. Some, in this dense hot region, were reading books full of deep thought, (for I looked over their shoulders); some meditating over a game of chess, more chattering vehemently and loudly, and many playing at billiards. Mr. C——, R——, and [Pg 76]P—— had seated themselves in the vicinity of a billiard-table, and, when I partially recovered my senses, I followed their example. The table was about half the size of the billiard-tables in England, and the pockets were twice as large. The four balls, with which they played, were not much bigger than those generally used at bagatelle. The queus were uncovered at the top with leather; and the player had the satisfaction of hearing the sharp twang of his bare-headed queu as each time it struck the little ivory ball. No chalk was in the room. The Danes possess no word in their language expressive of that convenient mineral. In Denmark, credit is never given. You must pay, or go to prison. Thank God, I am an Englishman.

The room I found myself in was packed with men of all kinds and ages, each with a cigar in his mouth. Some were reading thought-provoking books (I peeked over their shoulders); others were deep in a chess game, many were chatting excitedly, and others were playing billiards. Mr. C——, R——, and [Pg 76]P—— had taken seats near a billiard table, and when I started to regain my senses, I followed them. The table was about half the size of the billiard tables in England, with pockets that were twice as large. The four balls they used were not much bigger than those typically used for bagatelle. The cues were uncapped at the top with leather, and the player enjoyed the sharp twang of his bare cue each time it hit the little ivory ball. There was no chalk in the room. The Danes don't have a word for that useful mineral. In Denmark, you can't get credit. You have to pay up or face jail time. Thank God I'm English.

We remained an hour in this café; and after tasting, each of us, a glass of maraschino, which Mr. C—— would insist on paying for, we left the oven. We did not, I promise you, go into another during the week we remained at Copenhagen; and I would urge those "troubled and disquieted spirits," who desire health and good lungs to pursue their wanderings on meadow or mountain, strenuously to avoid these gasometers and receptacles of tobacco smoke.

We stayed in this café for an hour, and after each of us had a glass of maraschino, which Mr. C—— insisted on paying for, we left the place. I promise you, we didn’t go into another café during the week we spent in Copenhagen. I would advise those "troubled and restless spirits" seeking health and good lungs to actively avoid these gas-filled places and spots full of tobacco smoke while wandering in meadows or mountains.

As it was now nearly twelve o'clock, we took leave of Mr. C——, and walked towards the harbour, when, on our arrival at the Custom House, we found the gates, through [Pg 77]which we had passed when landing, closed, and thus cutting off all communication between the yacht and ourselves. What was to be done? The Heaven, decked out in its deep blue mantle, shone brightly over our heads; and the poppy-dew of Sleep, descending on the Soul of Copenhagen, had lulled all into the profoundest silence. Lying calmly at anchor on the smooth water which reflected a thousand stars, our floating home, not a mile off, could be seen. The tramp of a sentinel struck on the ear.

As it was now almost midnight, we said goodbye to Mr. C—— and walked toward the harbor. When we arrived at the Custom House, we found the gates, through [Pg 77] which we had passed when landing, closed, cutting off all communication between the yacht and us. What should we do? The sky, covered in its deep blue cloak, shone brightly above us, and the calming essence of sleep had settled over the city of Copenhagen, putting everyone into a deep silence. Our floating home, anchored calmly on the smooth water reflecting a thousand stars, was visible just a mile away. The sound of a sentinel's footsteps reached our ears.

"Hi! ho!" exclaimed P——, distinguishing the soldier's accoutrements. The Dane approached the iron gate, and, leering through the bars, seemed to doubt our gentility. We could not speak Danish; he did not speak English; and what was to be done with a common soldier at dead of night? P—— went near to the gate.

"Hi there!" exclaimed P——, noticing the soldier's gear. The Dane walked up to the iron gate and, peering through the bars, appeared to question our status. We couldn't speak Danish; he didn't speak English; and what were we supposed to do with a regular soldier in the dead of night? P—— moved closer to the gate.

"Hi! ho!" a second time he exclaimed, as the soldier commenced walking the other way; "We English gentlemen want to get board jhat;" persevered P——, endeavouring, by the adoption of a broken accent, to convey his meaning.

"Hi! ho!" he called out again as the soldier started to walk away. "We English gentlemen want to get aboard that," P—— insisted, trying to express his meaning with a broken accent.

The Dane shook his head.

The Danish man shook his head.

"We are done," said P—— calmly, "I wish we could get him to call the officer on guard;" and, turning to the gaping sentinel again, "Officer," he continued, "appelez officer," speaking half French, half English.

"We're done," said P—— calmly. "I wish we could get him to call the officer on guard." Then, turning back to the surprised sentinel, he said, "Officer, appelez officer," mixing French and English.

[Pg 78]The man ducked his shakko, and departed. Almost immediately the officer of the guard came out, wrapped in the huge folds of a military cloak, and, gazing at us through the bars, uttered a sentence in Danish. Making no reply to him, he then said, saluting us with much politeness,

[Pg 78]The man lowered his hat and left. Almost right away, the guard officer walked out, surrounded by the large drapes of a military cloak, and looking at us through the bars, he spoke a sentence in Danish. Without responding to him, he then greeted us with a lot of politeness,

"Que voulez vous, Messieurs?"

"What do you want, gentlemen?"

"Nous sommes des Messieurs Anglais qui désirent passer d'ici jusqu'à notre jhat," replied P——.

"Nous sommes des Messieurs Anglais qui désirent passer d'ici jusqu'à notre jhat," replied P——.

"Certainement;" so saying, a second time the officer raised his cap, and, turning to two serjeants who had followed him from the guard-room, gave directions that the gates should be unlocked, and we passed unmolested through.

"Certainly;" with that, the officer raised his cap again and, turning to the two sergeants who had followed him from the guardroom, instructed them to unlock the gates, and we went through without any trouble.

This was an act of courtesy and kindness which, we learned the next day, we were fortunate in receiving; for it was the stringent order of the Governor of Copenhagen, the Prince of Hesse, that the gates of the city, particularly this one, should be closed at ten o'clock, and no one permitted, on any pretence, to go in or out after this hour. The smuggling between the coast of Sweden and the town of Copenhagen being carried on to a great extent, render these restrictions very necessary; and we could only be indebted to our country for the exception which had been made to us by the officer on guard.

This was a kind and courteous gesture that, as we found out the next day, we were lucky to receive; because it was the strict order of the Governor of Copenhagen, the Prince of Hesse, that the city gates, especially this one, should close at ten o'clock, and no one allowed to enter or exit after that time. The extensive smuggling between the coast of Sweden and the city of Copenhagen made these restrictions essential; and we could only be grateful to our country for the exception the guard officer had made for us.

I rose betimes the following day, and went [Pg 79]on deck before breakfast, in order to take a view of the harbour, its position and defences. The mouth of Copenhagen Harbour opens to the eastward. In the centre of its entrance is a small island, called Armager, well fortified; and to the south of it is another battery separated from Armager by a narrow channel, which is so shallow, that, a reef of rocks may be noted by the foam of the waves as they curl and break over it; while to the North is the tremendous citadel of Fredrikshavn, and the only passage into the harbour is between this fortress and the Island of Armager.

I woke up early the next day and went [Pg 79] on deck before breakfast to check out the harbor, its layout, and defenses. The entrance to Copenhagen Harbor faces east. In the center of the entrance is a small island called Armager, which is well fortified; to the south is another battery, separated from Armager by a narrow channel that's so shallow that you can see a reef of rocks marked by the foam from the waves as they break over it. To the north is the massive citadel of Fredrikshavn, and the only way into the harbor is between this fortress and the Island of Armager.

Gambier may have effectually bombarded Copenhagen in 1807, but, I think, such an achievement would be scarcely practicable now. However, I am no judge of either naval or military tactics, but if the metal of guns, and the strength as well as position of fortifications promise to a city protection from an enemy, be he ever so mighty, Copenhagen has that promise well guaranteed to her.

Gambier may have effectively bombarded Copenhagen in 1807, but I believe such an achievement would be nearly impossible today. However, I'm not an expert in naval or military tactics, but if the quality of artillery, along with the strength and location of fortifications, offers a city protection from any enemy, no matter how powerful, Copenhagen has that protection well secured.

In the midst of my political meditations, the steward popped his head above the companion, touched his hair, as he always did when he had no hat on, and said,

In the middle of my political thoughts, the steward leaned over the banister, touched his hair like he always did when he wasn’t wearing a hat, and said,

"Breakfast ready, Sir."

"Breakfast is ready, Sir."

My appetite soon clambered to the summit on which my mind had been perched, and desired obedience to what I heard; and in justification of my health, I ate a good breakfast. I returned on deck, an hour afterwards, [Pg 80]holding little Jacko in my arms, who was surfeited with coffee, marmalade, fish, and egg, even to lethargy.

My hunger quickly climbed to the peak where my thoughts had settled, demanding that I pay attention to what I heard; to take care of my health, I had a hearty breakfast. An hour later, I went back on deck, [Pg 80]holding little Jacko in my arms, who had overeaten with coffee, marmalade, fish, and eggs to the point of lethargy.

It was ten o'clock. R—— and I sitting on the taffrail aft, P—— having gone ashore, were basking in the bright sunshine of the Sunday May morning, and comparing the temperature, scenes, and manners of Copenhagen, with the variable winds, the Primrose Hill, and the exuberant Sabbath spirits of London, when the sailing-master came, with rather a longer face than usual, to the spot where we were lounging, and, after his customary greeting of "Good morning, my Lord," and "Good morning, Sir," said,

It was ten o'clock. R—— and I were sitting on the taffrail at the back, P—— having gone ashore. We were soaking up the bright sunshine of that Sunday morning in May, comparing the temperature, sights, and vibes of Copenhagen with the unpredictable winds, Primrose Hill, and the lively Sunday atmosphere of London. Just then, the sailing-master approached us with a somewhat longer face than usual. After his usual greetings of "Good morning, my Lord," and "Good morning, Sir," he said,

"I have a complaint to make, my Lord."

"I have a complaint to make, my Lord."

"Well, out with it" R—— replied.

"Well, spit it out," R—— replied.

"You know, my Lord," D—— continued, "old Tom, Dick, and George were allowed to go ashore yesterday, and, instead of behaving like decent fellows, as they ought to have done on arriving at a foreign port, they must get drunk, and nearly drown themselves in trying to get off to the vessel."

"You know, my Lord," D—— continued, "old Tom, Dick, and George were allowed to go ashore yesterday, and instead of acting like decent guys, as they should have when arriving at a foreign port, they had to get drunk and almost drowned trying to get back to the ship."

"The deuce they did; and when did this occur?" inquired R——.

"The heck they did; and when did this happen?" asked R——.

"They got drunk last night; but they nearly got drowned this morning, my Lord," D—— answered.

"They got drunk last night, but they almost drowned this morning, my Lord," D—— replied.

"Where are the men?" asked R——.

"Where are the men?" asked R.

"On board, my Lord," D—— said.

"On board, my Lord," D—— said.

"Send them aft."

"Send them back."

[Pg 81]Away went D—— in search of the delinquent tars; and, as soon as he had got out of ear-shot, R—— observed to me,

[Pg 81]Off went D—— to track down the missing sailors; and as soon as he was out of earshot, R—— said to me,

"Is not this like these English blackguards? I dare say they have kicked up the devil's own row ashore, and, by squabbling with the inhabitants, brought my vessel into disrepute."

"Isn't this typical of these English rascals? I bet they've caused a huge commotion on land, and by fighting with the locals, have brought shame to my ship."

"Let us hear their story before we condemn them," I said; and in two minutes more old Tom, Dick, and George, were arranged in a line before R——, who still continued sitting, cross-legged, on the taffrail, abaft the tiller. They all three looked sheepish enough, and, if one might judge innocence and guilt from the countenance, they seemed criminal in the extreme.

"Let's hear their side of the story before we judge them," I said; and in just two more minutes, old Tom, Dick, and George were lined up in front of R——, who was still sitting cross-legged on the back of the boat, behind the tiller. They all looked pretty sheepish, and if we were to judge innocence and guilt by their faces, they seemed extremely guilty.

"Well, Tom," R—— commenced, "what is all this about?"

"Well, Tom," R—— started, "what's this all about?"

"The Cap'n, my Lord," said Tom, twitching up his duck trowsers on the port side, "gave us leave to go ashore; and we had barely set foot on dry land, than a sort of fellow, neither fish nor man, comes to us, and, says he, in a rum kind of a lingo, 'My lads, I'll show you about the town,' You know, my Lord, as well as I does,——"

"The Captain, my Lord," said Tom, pulling up his baggy pants on the left side, "let us go ashore; and we had just stepped onto solid ground when a strange guy, neither fish nor man, came up to us and said in a weird kind of way, 'Hey, boys, I'll show you around the town.' You know, my Lord, just like I do,——"

"I don't want any of your palavering," interrupted R——; "but I want to know why the devil you went and made beasts of yourselves?"

"I don't want to hear any of your nonsense," interrupted R——; "but I want to know why on earth you turned into animals?"

"Wery good, my Lord, I'm coming to the sarcumstances; but we warn't drunk, my Lord—notottoll."

"Wery good, my Lord, I'm getting to the circumstances; but we weren't drunk, my Lord—not at all."

[Pg 82]"D—— saw you drunk," said R——.

[Pg 82]"D—— saw you wasted," said R——.

"No, my Lord, no;" calmly said Tom, "the Cap'n carn't substanshate that air. We warn't drunk, my Lord,—notottoll."

"No, my Lord, no," Tom said calmly, "the Captain can't back that up. We weren't drunk, my Lord—not at all."

"How can you stand there," interrupted D—— warmly, "and try to humbug my Lord in that kind of a way?"

"How can you stand there," interrupted D—— passionately, "and try to deceive my Lord like that?"

"Not a bit of it," said R——; "he can't humbug me; and don't fret yourself about that."

"Not at all," said R——; "he can't fool me; and don't worry about that."

"That's nothing more nor less than I would ax of your Lordship," interposed Tom; and, edging in a piece of opportune sentiment, he continued, "I have sailed three seasons with your Lordship, and I have always bore myself like a British sailor, as I be. We was joyful-like to stretch our timbers; but we warn't drunk, my Lord, notottoll."

"That's nothing more or less than I would ask of you, my Lord," Tom interjected. Then, adding a bit of timely sentiment, he went on, "I’ve sailed three seasons with you, and I've always conducted myself like a British sailor, which I am. We were happy to push our limits, but we weren’t drunk, my Lord, not at all."

"If you were not at all drunk," replied R——, "you were very nearly drowned; and you don't mean to tell me, that you could ever capsize that dingy without being drunk?"

"If you weren't totally drunk," replied R——, "you were really close to drowning; and you can't seriously tell me that you could flip that dinghy without being drunk?"

"Notottoll, my Lord," persisted Tom; "Dick, my Lord, took a broad sheer to starboard, and capsized the boat. We warn't drunk, my Lord, notottoll."

"Not at all, my Lord," Tom insisted; "Dick, my Lord, veered sharply to the right and tipped the boat over. We weren't drunk, my Lord, not at all."

"Do you intend to say you three had no spirits to drink the whole time you were ashore?" asked R——.

"Are you saying that you three had no drinks the entire time you were on land?" asked R——.

"Sperits, my Lord! they ain't got such gear in this air place."

"Sheriff, my Lord! They don't have that kind of stuff around here."

[Pg 83]"How do you know?" R—— said.

[Pg 83]"How do you know?" R—— asked.

"Bekase, I enkquired, my Lord."

"Because I inquired, my Lord."

"Oh! did you inquire in the streets?" questioned R——.

"Oh! Did you ask around in the streets?" R—— questioned.

"No, my Lord; I axes in a cabbarette, as they calls it," Tom answered.

"No, my Lord; I work in a cabaret, as they call it," Tom answered.

"Then you went into a cabaret, and drank nothing. Very, like, a, whale," said R—— slowly.

"Then you went into a cabaret and didn’t drink anything. Seriously, like, a real whale," said R—— slowly.

"Notottoll, my Lord, we had a bottle of ordonnory."

"Notottoll, my Lord, we had a bottle of ordinary."

"What's that?" asked R——, a little puzzled.

"What's that?" asked R——, sounding a bit confused.

"Rot-gut, my Lord," ejaculated Tom, with emphasis; "and if, my Lord, a man wants to get the jandiss, I recommends vang ordonnory;" and down went Tom's fist, with a loud report, into the palm of his left hand. I burst into a shout of laughter at the comicality of Tom's melancholy face, and the smacking of his lips, as he called to mind the acidity of the wine; and R——, judge as he was, could not resist the farce.

"Rot-gut, my Lord," Tom exclaimed, emphasizing his point; "and if a man wants to get jaundice, I recommend vang ordonnory;" and Tom's fist came down with a loud smack into the palm of his left hand. I erupted into laughter at the funny sight of Tom's sad face and the way he smacked his lips as he remembered the sourness of the wine; even R——, being a judge, couldn’t resist the comedy.

"I tell you what," said R——, "and I tell you all plainly, if you fellows go ashore, and get into a row, and the police take you in charge; instead of defending you, as you fancy I will, I will appear against you, and assist the law in punishing you; and, what is more, if you are sent to prison, I will up stick, and leave you there."

"I’ll tell you something," R—— said, "and I’ll be totally honest with you. If you guys go ashore, get into trouble, and the police take you in, instead of defending you like you might think I would, I'll actually testify against you and help the law punish you. And what’s even worse is that if you end up in prison, I’ll grab my things and leave you there."

"Thank you, my Lord," they murmured, [Pg 84]and old Tom assisting in the thankful murmurs of Dick and George, kept reiterating till the sounds died away as he descended the fore-hatch.

"Thank you, my Lord," they murmured, [Pg 84] and old Tom, helping with the grateful murmurs of Dick and George, kept repeating it until the sounds faded as he went down the fore-hatch.

"We warn't drunk, my Lord,—notottoll;" and Tom was the most notorious drunkard on board.

"We weren't drunk, my Lord—not at all;" and Tom was the most notorious drunk on board.

The story was simply this:—He and his two companions, after trudging over the town, sight-seeing, till past ten, found, to their dismay, on arriving at the outer gates, that they were closed. In self-defence, all three were compelled to take shelter for the night in some low cabaret, where, meeting with a few jovial Danes, unreluctant to shun the bout, they drank the night away. Feeling the weight of Danish grog aloft, Dick, a stalwart young fellow of six feet, lost his balance in stepping into the boat next morning, and, falling athwart the little dingy's gunwale, capsized it. Poor old Tom, out of the three, went like a 24-pounder to the bottom; but the transparency of the water allowed some bystanders to observe his carcass stretched out among the cockles as composedly as in his hammock, and to raise him, after the lapse of a short time, by applying a boat-hook to the hole of his breeches' pocket.

The story was simply this: He and his two friends, after wandering around the town sightseeing until past ten, found, to their surprise, when they reached the outer gates, that they were closed. To protect themselves, all three had to stay the night in a rundown bar, where they met a few cheerful Danes who were eager to enjoy the night, and they ended up drinking until dawn. Feeling the effects of the Danish liquor, Dick, a sturdy young man who was six feet tall, lost his footing while getting into the boat the next morning and tipped over the small dinghy. Poor old Tom, of the three, sank like a heavy cannonball; but the clarity of the water allowed some bystanders to see his body stretched out among the shells as relaxed as if he were in his hammock, and they pulled him up a short while later using a boat hook to grab the hole in his pants pocket.

P—— returned at one, and told us, that he called at the guard-room, and, making the harbour-master his marshal and interpreter, had hunted up the officer so civil to us last [Pg 85]night; and expressed our gratitude for the favour which we had received. To every one who travels inconveniences must occur, or else travelling loses half its excitement. I would rather remain all my days at home, my mind compressed within its narrow precincts, and never see the sunny South, or mingle, as I do, with people whose warm hearts are softer than the genial air they breathe, and feel, that extreme nobility of soul and sensitiveness of wrong are entwined with the purest simplicity of thought and manners, than lack the slight annoyances of a Scythian life. P—— gave us to understand that he had inquired about the gates; and all the information he could collect was, that no respect could be paid to our condition; and, if we remained on shore after ten, we should run the risk of being kept out of our beds all night. The plan suggested was to write to the Prince of Hesse, and, stating our position, beg that his Royal Highness would grant us permission to pass backward and forward at any hour. Reconsidering, however, the matter, we determined not to do so; but to call on our Consul, and, through him, represent the hardship of our case to the British Minister. This determination was adopted, and ordered to be carried into execution the following day, this one being the Sabbath. Is it not strange how Englishmen long to break through all restraint, and regard the laws of foreign countries as [Pg 86]so many impediments in their path of pleasure?

P—— got back around one and told us that he stopped by the guard-room, made the harbor master his aide and translator, and had tracked down the officer who was so kind to us last [Pg 85] night; he expressed our thanks for the favor we received. Anyone who travels will encounter inconveniences; otherwise, traveling loses half its thrill. I would rather stay home all my life, my mind confined within its narrow space, and never see the sunny South or mix with people whose warm hearts are softer than the pleasant air they breathe, and feel that deep nobility of spirit and sensitivity to wrong are intertwined with the purest simplicity of thought and manners, than miss out on the minor annoyances of a Scythian life. P—— made it clear that he had asked about the gates; and the only information he could gather was that no one would care about our situation; if we stayed on shore after ten, we risked being kept out of our beds all night. The suggested plan was to write to the Prince of Hesse, explain our circumstances, and ask his Royal Highness for permission to come and go at any hour. Upon reconsideration, we decided against that and instead to visit our Consul, to have him communicate the difficulties of our situation to the British Minister. This decision was made, and we planned to put it into action the following day, since today was Sunday. Isn’t it strange how English people long to break through all restrictions and see the laws of foreign countries as [Pg 86] merely obstacles in their way to enjoyment?

As in England, many well-dressed people were walking about under the shade of the trees planted with great regularity along the ramparts of Fredrikshavn. We could hear children calling aloud, as soon as they caught sight of the yacht, decked out with all the elegance of her whitest ensign, and best Burgee "Engelskt! Engelskt!" with shrill tongues they cried; and, denoting with their little hands the object of delight, disturbed the stillness of the holy day.

As in England, many well-dressed people were strolling under the shade of the trees neatly lined along the ramparts of Fredrikshavn. We could hear children shouting as soon as they spotted the yacht, flaunting her pristine white flag and the best Burgee. "English! English!" they cried excitedly, pointing with their little hands at the object of their joy, breaking the stillness of the holy day.

The French customs are generally followed, I fancy, in this country; for to-day, being Sunday, more entertainment is to be met with in Copenhagen than on any other day of the week. The theatres are all open, and the casino, sacred by the royal presence of Christian, lures, with its sweet tones of operatic music, the prudish Englishman from thoughts of Paradise and the fourth commandment. Moses, Daniel, and the Chronicles are quite forgotten; and, putting Ecclesiastes in our pocket, we are going to the casino to-night.

The French customs are pretty much followed here, I think, in this country; because today, being Sunday, there's more entertainment available in Copenhagen than on any other day of the week. The theaters are all open, and the casino, graced by the royal presence of Christian, tempts the uptight Englishman away from thoughts of heaven and the fourth commandment with its sweet operatic music. Moses, Daniel, and the Chronicles are totally forgotten; and, slipping Ecclesiastes in our pocket, we're heading to the casino tonight.

"Do you know," suddenly said P——, as he closed a large chart of Norway, up and down the rivers of which he had been floating for some time on the tip of his pen-knife, "I met old C—— ashore, and he stuck to me like birdlime. He is a bore; I wonder who he is!"

"Do you know," P—— suddenly said, as he closed a large map of Norway, where he had been tracing along the rivers for a while with the tip of his pocket knife, "I ran into old C—— on land, and he just wouldn't leave me alone. He's such a drag; I wonder who he is!"

[Pg 87]Like a black cloud, you sometimes see on sultry summer days, moving sluggishly across the purely azure sky; so this remark of P—— overshadowed my mind with a misgiving feeling; and Horace's Ninth Satire, seizing my memory with prophetic tenacity, made me involuntarily mutter,—

[Pg 87]Like a dark cloud you sometimes see on hot summer days, slowly drifting across the clear blue sky; this comment from P—— cast a shadow over my thoughts with a feeling of anxiety; and Horace's Ninth Satire, gripping my mind with a prophetic intensity, made me involuntarily murmur,—

"Ibam forte viâ sacrâ, sicut meus est mos,
Nescio quid meditans nugarum, et totus in illis;
Accurrit quidam notus mihi nomine tantum,
Arrep——"

"I was walking down the sacred road, as I usually do,
Caught up in my thoughts about some minor things, completely focused on them;
A guy I only knew by name ran over to me,
He fell—

"A note, my Lord," and the steward placed a most diminutive note in R——'s hand. It ran thus:—

"A note, my Lord," the steward said as he handed a tiny note to R——. It read as follows:—

"My Lord and Gentlemen,
"I will accompany you to the Casino this evening at 8.
I feel it my duty to show you all the attention I can.

"Your Honor and Gentlemen,"
I’ll meet you at the casino tonight at 8.
I believe it's my duty to give you as much attention as possible.

"Yours faithfully,
"A—l—r C——."

"Best regards,"
"A—l—r C——."

"Deuce take him!" said R——; "let us go at six."

"To hell with him!" said R——; "let's meet at six."

"From Mr. C——, I suppose," remarked P——, taking up and glancing at the piece of paper. "I see how it is. We must give him a civil hint; and if he won't take it, we must do the best we can. Poor old fellow! I should not like to hurt his feelings."

"Probably from Mr. C——," P—— said, picking up the piece of paper and looking at it. "I get it now. We need to give him a polite nudge; and if he doesn't get it, we'll just have to manage as best we can. Poor guy! I really don't want to hurt his feelings."

When we had made an end of the treatment it was suggested Mr. C—— should receive, I put on my best coat, and went ashore. Scarcely had I, for the second time, rested my foot on the soil of Denmark, than I caught, riveted on [Pg 88]me, two small pig-like eyes twinkling in the centre of an ebony face.

When we finished the treatment Mr. C—— was supposed to get, I put on my best coat and went ashore. Hardly had I, for the second time, set foot on Danish soil when I noticed two small, pig-like eyes sparkling in the middle of an ebony face, staring at me.

"Me berry glad to see you, Sir," said the owner of this countenance, and, accompanying the welcome voice, the removal of a high-crowned white hat exposed to the African warmth of noon a head of true African wool.

" I'm really glad to see you, Sir," said the owner of this face, and as he spoke warmly, he took off a high-crowned white hat, revealing a head of genuine African wool under the intense midday sun.

"Thank you, Solomon."

"Thanks, Solomon."

"No, Sir; me Joe—Joe Washimtum," replied the black man, proudly; "but me brudder name Dabid—him better dan Sarlaman."

"No, Sir; I'm Joe—Joe Washingtum," replied the black man proudly; "but my brother's name is David—he's better than Solomon."

Deeming this the beginning and result of our acquaintance, I walked on, paying no attention to the sable Mr. C——; but I had anticipated blacky's intentions wrongfully, for a few minutes were sufficient time to place him on my left hand.

Deeming this the beginning and result of our acquaintance, I walked on, paying no attention to the black man Mr. C——; but I had misjudged his intentions, as a few minutes were enough time to position him on my left side.

"Hab you, Sir, no cumsidumration to see um town?" he inquired.

"Have you, sir, no consideration to see our town?" he asked.

"Not to-day, Joe," I answered. "I have formed my plans; but some other day we will navigate the town together."

"Not today, Joe," I said. "I have my plans, but we can explore the town together another day."

"Berry good, Sir." And, again elevating his steeple white hat, away marched Joe, Commissionaire of l'Hôtel d'Angleterre.

"Very good, Sir." And, once again tipping his tall white hat, Joe, the doorman of the Hôtel d'Angleterre, marched away.

The day was very hot, and my feet, swollen by the heat, suffered more than they did last night from the effects of the uneven stones. I limped from one street to the other, and found the "Amalien-Gade," not much inferior in breadth and length to Portland Place. Palaces of great symmetry, though of [Pg 89]immense size, rose before the eye at every corner; and the residence of the Prince of Hesse is one of the most beautiful structures I have ever seen. The white colour, as at Christiansand, with which all these large buildings are painted, forces directly on the stranger's mind their lightness and elegant proportions.

The day was really hot, and my feet, swollen from the heat, were hurting even more than they did last night from the uneven stones. I limped from one street to another and found "Amalien-Gade," which wasn't much less wide or long than Portland Place. Impressive palaces, although of [Pg 89] massive size, appeared at every corner; and the residence of the Prince of Hesse is one of the most beautiful buildings I've ever seen. The white color, like in Christiansand, with which all these large structures are painted, immediately gives a stranger the impression of their lightness and elegant proportions.

At the end of the "Amalien-Gade," which is about a mile in length, is a large odiously-paved square intersected by four streets; and, between each of these streets, are four small palaces in the style of Italian architecture. They are inhabited by the royal family; and the old king, Christian, may be seen sometimes, of an evening, walking across to play a game of whist with the dowager-queen. Infantry and cavalry officers, gossipping in groups, and flashing in the sun's rays, their light-blue uniform embroidered elaborately with silver lace, remind you of the Court's vicinity; and the eternal sound of a sentinel's challenge, as files of men march and re-march by him, proclaims, that, deference to kings is much the same in simple Denmark, as in pageant England.

At the end of "Amalien-Gade," which is about a mile long, there's a large, poorly paved square crossed by four streets; and between each of these streets, there are four small palaces designed in Italian architecture. The royal family lives there, and sometimes in the evenings, you can see the old king, Christian, walking over to play a game of whist with the dowager queen. Infantry and cavalry officers chat in groups, their light blue uniforms shining in the sun and embellished with silver lace, reminding you of the nearby Court; and the constant sound of a sentinel's challenge, as groups of men march back and forth in front of him, shows that respect for kings is pretty similar in simple Denmark as it is in grand England.

In the centre of this square stands an equestrian bronze statue of Frederick the Fifth; and, though the horse's head is considered a perfect piece of statuary, I am obstinate enough to differ, from the general opinion; and Monsieur Gorr, who executed it, will, with the politeness and generosity of his country, permit me to [Pg 90]think as I do, and pardon me, if I be wrong. Since its foundation in 1168, three awful fires in 1729, 1794, and 1795, nearly burned down the whole city of Copenhagen; but Christiansborg, the colossal palace of the Danish kings, was levelled with the ground; and Christian, deeming, perhaps, this abode of his ancestors doomed to be destroyed a second time, avoids it with superstitious care; and has selected for himself and family the four mansions, for they are nothing more, to which I have alluded. Queen Caroline-Matilda being taken from this palace to Cronenborg, her son, Frederick the Sixth, would never reside in it afterwards; and, I think, it is more from this mingled feeling of affection and painful regret, and a desire to obliterate from their memories the recollection of her fate, that his descendants have followed the filial example of Frederick, than from any dread of sudden destruction by fire.

In the center of this square stands a bronze equestrian statue of Frederick the Fifth. While many consider the horse's head to be a perfect work of art, I’m stubborn enough to disagree with the general view. Monsieur Gorr, the artist who created it, will, with the politeness and generosity typical of his country, allow me to [Pg 90] have my own opinion and forgive me if I’m mistaken. Since its founding in 1168, three devastating fires in 1729, 1794, and 1795 almost completely destroyed the city of Copenhagen. However, Christiansborg, the massive palace of the Danish kings, was completely leveled; perhaps Christian, believing this ancestral home doomed to suffer destruction again, now avoids it superstitiously and has chosen the four mansions I mentioned for himself and his family. After Queen Caroline-Matilda was taken from this palace to Kronborg, her son, Frederick the Sixth, would never live there again. I think it's more about a mix of affection, painful regret, and a wish to erase from their memories the thought of her fate that his descendants have followed Frederick's example, rather than any fear of sudden destruction by fire.

While walking through the streets, I could hardly dissuade myself I was not in the tropics, for the capacious archways, and central court-yards were quite oriental; and the large and numerous windows of the private houses, with jalousies thrown open, at cool of day, against the wall, reminded me also of the Antilles; and, had a black face but peeped out at me, the fancy might have seemed reality.

While walking through the streets, I could barely convince myself that I wasn't in the tropics. The spacious archways and central courtyards felt very exotic, and the many large windows of the private homes, with their shutters flung open on a cool day, reminded me of the Caribbean. If a black face had peeked out at me, it would have felt all too real.







CHAPTER VI.

THE CASINO—THE ROYAL FAMILY OF DENMARK—SUCCESSION TO HOLSTEIN—THE ENGLISH CONSUL—VISIT TO THE ENGLISH AMBASSADOR—COLOSSAL STATUE OF CHRISTIAN THE FIFTH—ANECDOTE OF BELZONI—TRINITY CHURCH—EXTRAORDINARY FEAT OF PETER THE GREAT—DUCKING AN OFFENDER—PALACE OF CHRISTIANSBORG—THE EXCHANGE—THE CASTLE OF ROSENBERG.

THE CASINO—THE ROYAL FAMILY OF DENMARK—SUCCESSION TO HOLSTEIN—THE ENGLISH CONSUL—VISIT TO THE ENGLISH AMBASSADOR—COLOSSAL STATUE OF CHRISTIAN THE FIFTH—ANECDOTE OF BELZONI—TRINITY CHURCH—EXTRAORDINARY FEAT OF PETER THE GREAT—DUCKING AN OFFENDER—PALACE OF CHRISTIANSBORG—THE EXCHANGE—THE CASTLE OF ROSENBERG.


At seven o'clock, we went to the Casino; and, trusting that we had deceived Mr. C——, renewed our acquaintance with the gentleman in spectacles.

At seven o'clock, we headed to the Casino, hoping that we had misled Mr. C——, and reconnected with the man in glasses.

The room, an immense one, was lighted from the lofty ceiling with four splendid chandeliers. The people sat in seats appropriated to them, and listened attentively to some exquisite pieces of music, played as exquisitely, by a large band. There was no dancing; nor indeed was the room adapted for such recreation. The king, the queen, and their niece, the beautiful Princess Louise, sat in a gallery, speaking to those around them, and watching with interest the group below. This is that princess whose hand the Crown [Pg 92]Prince, Frederick, thrice divorced, has sought in vain; for, he failing heirs, Holstein passes from the present dynasty to the Ducal House of Augustenburg. This political flaw is, while I write, being adjusted by the Danish Senate, as the impotency of Frederick, now reigning Sovereign of Denmark, has been pretty well admitted. The company took no heed of the royal presence, but walked and talked, and stood with hats on; and when I observed to my late excitable friend in spectacles, that the English behaved not so in the sight of their queen, he replied,

The room was huge, illuminated by four stunning chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling. The guests sat in their designated seats, listening intently to a series of beautiful pieces performed by a large band. There was no dancing, nor was the room set up for it. The king, queen, and their niece, the lovely Princess Louise, occupied a gallery, chatting with those around them and watching the scene below with interest. This is the princess whose hand the Crown Prince, Frederick, who's been divorced three times, has unsuccessfully sought; his lack of heirs means that Holstein will pass from the current dynasty to the Ducal House of Augustenburg. While I write, this political issue is being sorted out by the Danish Senate, as Frederick's inability to father children has become fairly accepted. The guests seemed oblivious to the royal presence, walking and talking while keeping their hats on; when I pointed out to my overly enthusiastic friend in glasses that the English don't behave like that in front of their queen, he replied,

"Zat is nuttin. Ze king is nuttin."

"That is nothing. The king is nothing."

"That is to say, though it be done, no feeling of disrespect is meant," I continued.

"That means, even though it's done, I don't intend any disrespect," I continued.

"Ja."

"Yeah."

We wandered through illuminated galleries and conservatories sweetly perfumed with the most delicate flowers. Continually, on every hand, was revealed some marble statue to attract attention, or living beauty to gratify the eye. Borne away by these delightful sights and sounds, and feeling life only in the ideal, this lethargy of soul and body burst, convulsively, into common existence, as the indomitable Mr. C—— issued, gaping in all directions, from behind a fluted column; and, when his glance fell on us, the face of Minerva looked not more luminous when she leaped from the brain of Jove.

We strolled through brightly lit galleries and greenhouses sweetly scented with the most delicate flowers. Everywhere we turned, a marble statue caught the eye, or a living beauty pleased our gaze. Overwhelmed by these delightful sights and sounds, and feeling alive only in a dreamlike state, this feeling of being both mentally and physically lethargic suddenly snapped back to reality when the unstoppable Mr. C—— appeared, staring in all directions from behind a fluted column; and when his gaze landed on us, Minerva herself seemed no more radiant when she sprang from the mind of Zeus.

"Ah! gentlemen," delightedly he exclaimed, [Pg 93]"you gave me the slip; but the guard below told me three Englishmen were here."

"Ah! gentlemen," he exclaimed with delight, [Pg 93]"you got away from me; but the guard downstairs mentioned that three Englishmen were here."

P—— answered him with civility, and said that we had altered our plans, and could not communicate with him, being in ignorance of his address. He showed us great attention, and, by explanation, smoothed all those excrescences of conventional usages which we did not understand. So far, Mr. C—— was useful; but, seeming a character of doubtful respectability by the cold indifference with which some Danish gentlemen received his warm advances, we did not like to be accompanied in public by a man of whom we knew nothing. His companionship, therefore, hurried us from the Casino; and, the cathedral clock was tolling midnight, as we were rowed alongside the yacht. The closed gates again gave us trouble; and, we thanked the bright stars above us, that knowledge of the French grammar had survived the tenderness of Anacreon. Nevertheless, this brought the irksomeness of our situation to a climax, and P—— made up his mind to call on the Consul in the morning. For my part, I believe, I became feverish through the night, and in my sleep talked to the binnacle about Magna Charta.

P—— replied politely, explaining that we had changed our plans and couldn’t get in touch with him since we didn’t know his address. He paid us a lot of attention and helped clarify all the social customs we didn’t understand. Up to that point, Mr. C—— was helpful; however, he seemed like a questionable character because of the cold indifference some Danish gentlemen showed toward his friendly attempts, so we didn’t feel comfortable being seen with someone we didn’t know in public. His company made us leave the Casino quickly, and as the cathedral clock struck midnight, we were rowed back to the yacht. The closed gates caused us more trouble, and we were grateful to the bright stars above that our knowledge of French grammar had survived the romantic influences of Anacreon. Still, this really highlighted how frustrating our situation was, and P—— decided he would visit the Consul in the morning. As for me, I think I became restless throughout the night and ended up talking in my sleep about Magna Charta to the binnacle.

At eleven o'clock on Monday morning, R——, P——, and I, formed a deputation, and started for the Consul's office. While R—— was giving directions to the men when to return with the boat for us, I felt a [Pg 94]gentle tap on my left shoulder; and turning round, received a nod, and "good morrow," from Mr. C——. His services were, however, required, and his pertinacity in retaining our friendship was not so unwelcome. We told him the object we had in view; he appreciated our national conduct, and begged to take us the pleasantest and shortest way to the Consul's. Many people were abroad; and hardly one person failed to stop and recognise us as Englishmen. I do not doubt that the population of Copenhagen is upwards of 100,000; but I judge from the multitudes which, in some parts, thronged the principal thoroughfares. The bee-like movements of the males,—stopping, in the bustle of business, to greet each other, then hurrying off again,—and the fondness of the females for gazing in the shop-windows where fine wares lay exposed, frequently blocking up the small foot-pavement in the gratification of this idiosyncrasy, assimilated them to my own countrymen and women. I looked under many a blue bonnet, and caught the sly glance of many a blue eye; but they were not the blue eye and bonnet of England. I gazed upon many a sweet, smiling face, and saw many an elegant form; but they had not the pouting, red lip, and roundness of England. No! wander where I will—and I have wandered far—I never saw aught to match the pure beauty of England's Daughter. Stamped on her fair brow, the [Pg 95]hand of Heaven owns no other mould for loveliness; and the die was broken when sensibility of soul blended with her tender frame the strong feelings of the heart.

At eleven o'clock on Monday morning, R——, P——, and I formed a small group and headed to the Consul's office. While R—— was instructing the crew on when to come back with the boat for us, I felt a gentle tap on my left shoulder. Turning around, I was met with a nod and a "good morning" from Mr. C——. However, his services were needed, and his determination to keep our friendship was not unwelcome. We explained our purpose, and he acknowledged our national conduct, offering to take us the quickest and most pleasant route to the Consul's. Many people were out and about, and almost everyone stopped to recognize us as Englishmen. I don't doubt that the population of Copenhagen exceeds 100,000, judging by the crowds that filled the main streets. The bustling movements of the men—stopping in their busy routines to greet one another before hurrying off again—and the women’s tendency to linger in front of shop windows filled with beautiful items, often blocking the narrow sidewalks, reminded me of my own countrymen and women. I looked under many blue bonnets and caught the sly glance of many blue eyes; but they weren't the blue eyes and bonnets of England. I saw many sweet, smiling faces and elegant figures, but they didn't have the pouting red lips and roundness typical of England. No! No matter how far I wander—and I have traveled far—I’ve never seen anything that matches the pure beauty of England's daughters. The [Pg 95]mark of Heaven adorns her fair brow; there’s no other mold for beauty in existence, and the die was cast when the sensitivity of soul blended with her delicate frame and the strong emotions of the heart.

Before I saw enough of life in the streets, we were under the great gateway which led to the Consul's apartments; for the houses here, as in Edinburgh and Paris, are divided between several families, and have one common staircase. The Consul heard attentively our tale, and then told us he could in no way interfere; but that we had better make a personal application to the Minister, Sir Henry Whynne.

Before I had experienced enough of life on the streets, we were standing under the large gateway that led to the Consul's apartments; the houses here, like in Edinburgh and Paris, are shared between several families and have one common staircase. The Consul listened carefully to our story and then told us that he couldn't get involved; however, he suggested we personally reach out to the Minister, Sir Henry Whynne.

To Sir Henry we went; and the result with him was the same as with the Consul. Sir Henry said, he could with just as much propriety interrupt for our benefit the closing of the gates at a certain hour, as the Danish Minister in London could interrupt, for the benefit of three Danes, the closing of the Horse Guards. He recommended us to make friends with the officer on duty, and he doubted not every facility would be afforded us in our ingress and regress, to and from the town at night.

To Sir Henry we went; and the outcome with him was the same as with the Consul. Sir Henry said he could just as easily interrupt the closing of the gates at a certain hour for our benefit as the Danish Minister in London could disrupt the closing of the Horse Guards for the benefit of three Danes. He suggested we befriend the officer on duty, and he had no doubt we would have every opportunity to come and go from the town at night.

On the strength of that concession by the proper authority, Sir Henry asked us to dine with him the following day; we thanked him for his information, and accepted the invitation. Before parting, he offered to introduce us to the king, who, he assured us, entertained a [Pg 96]partiality for the English, and would be happy to see us and have a game of whist with us every night at the palace. Mr. C——, who had waited for us outside, now conducted us round the town, and gave us all the information he had mustered during a residence of many years in Copenhagen.

On the basis of that agreement from the proper authority, Sir Henry invited us to dinner the next day; we thanked him for the update and accepted the invitation. Before we left, he offered to introduce us to the king, who, he assured us, had a [Pg 96]fondness for the English and would be glad to see us and play a game of whist with us every night at the palace. Mr. C——, who had been waiting for us outside, then showed us around the town and shared all the information he had gathered during his many years living in Copenhagen.

In the centre of the second square,—better paved than the other one,—where are situated the Theatre, Hôtel d'Angleterre, and several other large hotels, stands another colossal statue of Christian the Fifth, as devoid of admiration as its prancing fellow. Its remarkable size has exceeded the bounds of elegance. The horse is about to trample on a serpent with distended mouth and forked extended tongue, being the symbol of Discord. Around the pedestal are many figures; and, amongst them, Minerva's arms and legs are sculptured in prodigious relief: but it is to be hoped the Goddess of the Fine Arts will, some day, descend to Copenhagen, and prove to the Danes how symmetrical are her limbs, since, in this allegorical group, the neck of the wild bull of Crete must have been a withe to her proportions. An anecdote is told of Belzoni, when Feldborg showed this statue to him.

In the center of the second square—better paved than the other one—where the Theatre, Hôtel d'Angleterre, and several other large hotels are located, there stands a massive statue of Christian the Fifth, just as lacking in admiration as its flashy counterpart. Its impressive size has gone beyond elegance. The horse is about to stomp on a serpent with its mouth wide open and tongue flicking out, representing Discord. Surrounding the pedestal are many figures, including Minerva’s arms and legs sculpted in great detail: but hopefully, the Goddess of the Fine Arts will one day come to Copenhagen and show the Danes how balanced her limbs are, since, in this symbolic group, the neck of the wild bull of Crete must have seemed quite disproportionate. There’s an anecdote about Belzoni when Feldborg showed him this statue.

"I hope this is not the work of a Danish artist?" demanded Belzoni.

"I hope this isn't the work of a Danish artist?" asked Belzoni.

"No; oh, no," replied Feldborg. "If you want to see statues executed by Danish artists, [Pg 97]go to England, or your own country; don't come here. The statue you are now looking at was sculptured, and no doubt conceived, by a Frenchman, named Amoureux, who was sent here by Louis XIV. for the purpose, Louis being excessively anxious, in every imaginable way, to promote the welfare of the Danish sovereign of that day."

"No, oh no," replied Feldborg. "If you want to see statues made by Danish artists, [Pg 97]go to England or your own country; don’t come here. The statue you’re looking at was sculpted, and most likely designed, by a Frenchman named Amoureux, who was sent here by Louis XIV. Louis was extremely eager, in every possible way, to support the welfare of the Danish king at that time."

"Well, the Frenchman who executed this statue has been a clever fellow," observed Belzoni; "the only animation I notice in his work, is in the horse's tail."

"Well, the Frenchman who made this statue has been quite clever," Belzoni remarked; "the only life I see in his work is in the horse's tail."

We clambered up the Round Tower of the Trinity Church, which was founded by Christian IV. in the year 1673, and finished five years afterwards. It is 115 feet high, and was used as an observatory about the time of Tycho Brahe. There are no steps, but the ascent is made by a gentle spiral plane; and, as we wound our way up, thinking of Peter the Great, who drove a carriage drawn by four horses to the top, and of the manner the Czar contrived to reach the bottom without backing; all the names of all the families of Smiths, Smythes, and Joneses, deeply incised on the wall, pulled us, with a jerk, to vulgarities again.

We climbed up the Round Tower of Trinity Church, founded by Christian IV in 1673 and completed five years later. It stands 115 feet tall and was used as an observatory around the time of Tycho Brahe. There are no steps; instead, the way up is a gentle spiral ramp. As we made our way up, we thought about Peter the Great, who drove a carriage pulled by four horses to the top, and how the Czar managed to get back down without reversing. The names of families like Smiths, Smythes, and Joneses, etched deep into the wall, jolted us back to reality.

From the summit is a fine view of Copenhagen. Before we had finished moralizing about views and heights, the afternoon had slipped imperceptibly away. Where we stood, the cowherd's long whoop at intervals, and, [Pg 98]in answer to his call, the faint low of cattle, could be heard; and, from some cottages beyond the city walls, the bark of dogs, and noise of faggots being hewn, were interrupted only by the loud jests of fishermen, who sat at the cottage-doors, unravelling their nets; while the dewy mist of evening kept rising till it reached the elm-tree tops, then hung there, like a girdle of thin white gauze. It was quite an English scene.

From the top, there’s a great view of Copenhagen. Before we finished reflecting on views and heights, the afternoon had quietly passed by. From where we were standing, we could hear the cowherd's long call at intervals, and, [Pg 98]in response, the soft mooing of cattle; along with the barking of dogs and the sound of wood being chopped from some cottages beyond the city walls, all interrupted only by the loud laughter of fishermen sitting at the cottage doors, untangling their nets; while the evening mist rose up until it reached the tops of the elm trees, then hung there like a thin white veil. It was a very English scene.

We descended; and lagging behind, I followed my companions in silence home.

We went down, and falling behind, I silently followed my friends home.

We remained on board during the evening, and played at whist. It was some time before we could muster the ace of spades; but, after diligent search, it was found, torn in twain, and the fragments stuck upright, in a pot of marmalade. A small hole bored in the centre of the skin which covered the preserve, not exceeding the dimensions of Jacko's finger, proclaimed it to be his handywork. Jacko, fortunately, had retired for the night to Alfred's hammock; and, out of humanity, the period and severity of his castigation were deferred till the morrow.

We stayed on board during the evening and played whist. It took a while for us to find the ace of spades, but after a thorough search, we discovered it, torn in half, with the pieces stuck upright in a pot of marmalade. A small hole in the skin covering the jam, not larger than Jacko's finger, revealed that he was the culprit. Fortunately, Jacko had already gone to bed in Alfred's hammock, so out of kindness, we decided to postpone any punishment until tomorrow.

As soon as we rose on Tuesday morning, Jacko was placed in a canvass bucket, and thrice ducked in the sea; when his yells were caught up by a flock of little Danes dabbling in the water along the shore, who gave shriek for shriek.

As soon as we got up on Tuesday morning, Jacko was put in a canvas bucket and dunked in the sea three times; his screams were joined by a group of little Danish kids playing in the water by the shore, who responded with their own shrieks.

Remembering Sir Henry Whynne's [Pg 99]injunctions, we went, after breakfast, to the guard-room; and, through the harbour-master, held a long conversation with the officer in command of the objectionable gates; and, after a while, our names were written in a large book, and we received permission to go and come as we pleased.

Remembering Sir Henry Whynne's [Pg 99] instructions, we went to the guard room after breakfast. Through the harbor master, we had a lengthy conversation with the officer in charge of the objectionable gates. After a while, our names were recorded in a big book, and we got permission to come and go as we liked.

We went to-day to the palace of Christiansborg, which is not remarkable for anything else but its magnitude. The stables, which are built in the form of a crescent, are filled with horses, some of them most beautiful and valuable. Eight cream-coloured ponies, and a similar number of grey horses, were unsurpassed in colour and elegant proportions by those in possession of the English sovereign. There were upwards of one hundred horses; and what use King Christian, with his small Court, can find for so many steeds, may come within the corn-factor's reach, but it is certainly beyond mine.

We visited the Christiansborg Palace today, which isn't notable for much else besides its size. The stables, shaped like a crescent, are filled with horses, some of which are incredibly beautiful and valuable. Eight cream-colored ponies and an equal number of gray horses were unmatched in color and graceful build compared to those owned by the English monarch. There were over one hundred horses; while I can guess what King Christian might do with so many horses for his small court, it's definitely beyond my understanding.

For those who do not mind revolving to a great height by a back staircase, the pictures in this palace may be a treat, since one or two, painted by the old Dutch masters, are worthy of attention. Passing from room to room, we stumbled on Mr. C——, who, with the keen scent of a spaniel, had tracked us to our present elevation. There was no shaking him off, and so, making the best use of him we could, we beset him with questions; in answering which, by the way, he never wearied, [Pg 100]but chattered with all the perseverance of an old woman.

For those who don’t mind climbing to a great height via a back staircase, the artwork in this palace can be quite enjoyable, as a few pieces painted by the old Dutch masters are definitely worth seeing. While moving from room to room, we ran into Mr. C——, who, with the keen nose of a spaniel, had tracked us to our current location. There was no getting rid of him, so we decided to make the best of it and bombarded him with questions; he never seemed to tire of answering them, [Pg 100] and chatted away with all the persistence of an old woman.

The only pump in Copenhagen is to be found in a vault beneath this palace. A Dane led us through numerous dark cloisters; and, arriving at last in front of this pump, stood still, and, with brightening eyes, as well as great exultation of manner, pointed to it.

The only pump in Copenhagen is located in a vault beneath this palace. A Danish guide took us through several dark hallways, and when we finally arrived in front of this pump, he paused, and with sparkling eyes and a lot of excitement, pointed to it.

By the traveller who loiters along the streets of Copenhagen, half-buried in the walls of many houses, a cannon-ball may here and there be seen. In remembrance of Gambier's action, the Danes preserve, like the apple of their eyes, these destructive missiles in the same place and position they were lodged forty years ago; and, that the stranger may not fail seeing these emblems of "British friendship," as the term goes, their visible sections are daubed all over with black paint, so that they stand boldly out from the snowy aspect of the houses.

By the traveler who hangs out on the streets of Copenhagen, you can occasionally see cannonballs half-buried in the walls of several houses. To remember Gambier's battle, the Danes keep these destructive projectiles, like treasures, in the same spot where they became lodged forty years ago. To ensure that visitors notice these symbols of "British friendship," as they call them, the visible parts are covered in black paint, making them stand out against the white appearance of the buildings.

The Exchange, opposite to the Palace windows, is an exquisite building, constructed in 1624, by order of Christian IV. It is four hundred feet in length, and sixty in breadth. The steeple is the most curious you can imagine. Three dragons, their throats resting on the roof, intertwine their bodies, and, tapering a hundred feet gradually upwards, point with their tails to the sky. At a little distance, their large heads and mouths opened to show some formidable teeth and tongues, have a very good effect.

The Exchange, across from the Palace windows, is a stunning building built in 1624 by Christian IV. It measures four hundred feet long and sixty feet wide. The steeple is really unique. Three dragons, their necks resting on the roof, twist their bodies together, gradually narrowing a hundred feet upwards, with their tails pointing to the sky. From a distance, their large heads and open mouths, showing sharp teeth and tongues, create a striking impression.

[Pg 101]From Christiansborg we went to the Castle of Rosenberg. In the middle of a park, not larger than St. James's, rise the slender red towers of Rosenberg above the tops of the trees; and, as you catch a glimpse of it, glancing in the sunshine, down an avenue of oak and elm, you wonder not how the Fourth Christian, two centuries ago, made this his favourite abode.

[Pg 101]From Christiansborg, we headed to Rosenberg Castle. In the center of a park, about the same size as St. James's, the tall red towers of Rosenberg rise above the tree tops; and as you catch a glimpse of it shining in the sunlight down an avenue lined with oak and elm, you can't help but understand why Christian IV made this his favorite home two centuries ago.

Crossing a drawbridge, we arrived at an arched door; and Mr. C——, taking hold of an antique iron chain, pulled it. The noisy tongue of a hollow-sounding bell roused not the bark of slumbering hound, but had all the desolation to itself, and echoed loudly and longly, then slowly, stroke by stroke, through the deserted corridors. In a few minutes a man, courtierly and well dressed, grasping a huge bunch of keys in his left hand, opened the door; and, judging from our countenances—for I know not by what else he could judge—the nature of our visit, requested, in Danish, that we would enter. Mr. C—— replied, and told him we were Englishmen. He bowed, and addressed us afterwards in our own language.

Crossing a drawbridge, we reached an arched door. Mr. C—— grabbed an old iron chain and pulled it. The loud sound of a hollow bell didn’t wake any sleeping dogs but instead created an echo of loneliness, ringing out loudly and for a long time, then slowly, stroke by stroke, through the empty hallways. A few minutes later, a well-dressed man who looked like a courtier appeared, holding a large bunch of keys in his left hand. He opened the door and, judging from our expressions—I'm not sure how else he could have assessed it—he asked in Danish if we would come in. Mr. C—— replied, letting him know we were Englishmen. The man bowed and then spoke to us in our own language.

The hall in which we now stood was surrounded, near the roof, with the escutcheons of the old Kings of Denmark; and, in niches, three or four feet from the marble floor, were bright suits of armour belonging also to the ancient Danish Monarchs. From one [Pg 102]anteroom to another, and from presence-chamber to throne-room, we passed, and found in each one some remnant of chivalry to admire, and heard of some deed to regret.

The hall we stood in was adorned near the ceiling with the coats of arms of the old Kings of Denmark, and in niches three or four feet above the marble floor were gleaming suits of armor that also belonged to the ancient Danish Monarchs. We moved from one [Pg 102]anteroom to another, and from the audience chamber to the throne room, finding in each a piece of chivalry to admire and hearing about some act to mourn.

In the room where Christian IV. used to hold his councils is a Throne of state, exceeding, by a great deal, the dimensions of a large arm-chair, and composed of solid silver, and carved at the back in the most fantastic and beautiful fashion. Placed at intervals of a yard round this room, upwards of fifty feet long, are many other chairs, not so large as the first one, but also of pure silver. In these the king's privy councillors sate. Along the walls is hung the most curious tapestry, worked by the hand nearly three centuries ago, and representing battles with the Swedes, and the naval victories of Christian. Walking along, you leave this magnificent room on the left side; and, at the end of a long passage, a small door admits you, by touching a spring in the panel, to a boudoir, about twelve feet square, entirely walled, ceiled, and floored, with mirrors, so that, the face and back, the right and the left sides, the crown of the head and the sole of the foot, may be seen, simultaneously, at one glance. The ingenious and amorous Christian, being far advanced beyond the ideas of his time, conceived this room and its adaptation; for, in this Boudoir Christian's mistresses were wont to revel with their royal lord, after ablution in a bath close at hand.

In the room where Christian IV used to hold his councils, there’s a state throne that’s much larger than an oversized armchair, made of solid silver and intricately carved at the back in a really stunning and unique way. Scattered around this room, which is over fifty feet long, are more than fifty other chairs, which, while smaller, are also made of pure silver. The king's advisors would sit in these chairs. Along the walls hangs some fascinating tapestry, crafted nearly three centuries ago, depicting battles with the Swedes and Christian's naval victories. As you walk along, you exit this magnificent room to the left, and at the end of a long hallway, a small door lets you in, triggered by a spring in the panel, to a boudoir about twelve feet square, completely covered in mirrors on the walls, ceiling, and floor. This design allows you to see your face and back, both sides, the top of your head, and the soles of your feet all at once. The clever and romantic Christian, well ahead of his time, designed this room for its purpose; this is where Christian's mistresses would enjoy themselves with their royal partner after bathing in a nearby bath.

[Pg 103]Adjoining this apartment is another boudoir, filed with jewels of inestimable value, not to mention swords of gold, and spurs of gold, armour, and casques of gold. In a glass-case, which is kept locked, are the entire accoutrements of a horse; and the saddle, even to the stirrup-straps and girths, was studded with pearls, emeralds, rubies, and torquoises. On the pommel, inlaid, were four emeralds, having a ruby for their centre, each stone being little less than an inch square. Every day Christian must have dismounted his horse some hundred pounds poorer than when he mounted; and yet the eye could detect no flaw in this precious saddle by the absence of a single pearl. It struck me at the time as being very astonishing that, a small kingdom like Denmark, and not a rich one, could find a surplus revenue sufficient to collect such immensity of wealth, and the resources of the country not flag by its useless accumulation. Why, the sale of all the jewellery, and gold, and silver in the castle of Rosenberg would pay off half the national debt of Denmark.

[Pg 103]Next to this apartment is another bedroom, filled with incredibly valuable jewels, along with gold swords, gold spurs, armor, and gold helmets. In a locked display case are all the gear for a horse; the saddle, including the stirrup straps and girths, was adorned with pearls, emeralds, rubies, and turquoise. The pommel had four emeralds inlaid with a ruby in the center, each stone nearly an inch square. Every day, Christian must have dismounted from his horse a hundred pounds poorer than when he got on; yet, the saddle showed no flaws, missing not a single pearl. I found it quite astonishing that a small kingdom like Denmark, not exactly wealthy, could manage to collect such a vast amount of wealth without draining the country's resources. In fact, selling all the jewelry, gold, and silver in the castle of Rosenberg would pay off half of Denmark's national debt.

The earthenware and china, manufactured many centuries ago, are also very curious and valuable. We visited a room literally crammed from top to bottom with vases, tumblers, and glasses of all sizes and denominations; and, while we were almost speechless in the admiration of a bowl sufficiently large to admit its [Pg 104]being mistaken for a bath, and not less delicate in thickness than the rice paper made by natives of the East, the Dane drew our attention to a rent in the ceiling, and asked if we would not regret that any accident should destroy a collection so curious, and the manufacture of which was now lost to science. We replied altogether, with much indignation, that a man who attempted the deed would be no better than an assassin, and might, without reference to an impartial advocate, be hanged from one of the portcullis' spikes below.

The pottery and china, made many centuries ago, are really fascinating and valuable. We visited a room packed from top to bottom with vases, glasses, and cups of all kinds and sizes; while we were nearly speechless admiring a bowl big enough to be mistaken for a bathtub, and as delicate as the rice paper made by artisans from the East, the Dane pointed out a crack in the ceiling and asked if we wouldn’t be upset if an accident destroyed such a unique collection, especially since its production techniques are now lost to knowledge. We all responded, quite indignantly, that anyone who tried to do such a thing would be no better than a killer and could, without the need for a fair trial, be hung from one of the spikes of the portcullis below.

"Do you think so, really, gentlemen?" inquired the Dane, with an odd kind of a smile.

"Do you really think so, gentlemen?" the Dane asked with a strange sort of smile.

"We do, we do," we all unanimously said; and Mr. C. wound up with monosyllabic emphasis,

"We do, we do," we all said together, and Mr. C. finished with a strong emphasis on each word,

"Yes!"

"Yas!"

"Well, then," with measured tone, answered the Dane, "that rent you see there was done some forty years ago, and a shell from Nelson's ship did it."

"Well then," replied the Dane in a calm voice, "that hole you see there was made about forty years ago, and it was caused by a shell from Nelson's ship."

He stopped to mark the effect this disclosure would have upon us; and, finding we regretted the policy of our country, but could not control the cannon-balls of our ships, he continued, smiling,

He paused to note how this revelation would impact us; and, seeing that we felt remorseful about our country's actions but couldn't influence the cannonballs from our ships, he went on, smiling,

"Never mind, never mind, he did no harm; and I hope no other Englishman will again."

"Forget it, forget it, he didn’t hurt anyone; and I hope no other Englishman will again."

Leading us into another small room, the Dane approached a large iron chest, and [Pg 105]raising, with difficulty, its heavy lid, shewed us the coronation robes of Christian lying at the bottom.

Leading us into another small room, the Dane went up to a large iron chest, and [Pg 105]after struggling with its heavy lid, opened it to reveal the coronation robes of Christian lying at the bottom.

"In these robes," he said, "Christian, the present King of Denmark, was crowned; and they will never be removed hence until he is dead."

"In these robes," he said, "Christian, the current King of Denmark, was crowned; and they won't be taken away until he is dead."

"Why?" we asked.

"Why?" we asked.

"It is an ancient custom still preserved in Denmark," he replied, "that her kings be buried in their robes of coronation."

"It’s an old tradition still kept in Denmark," he replied, "that their kings are buried in their coronation robes."

He closed the lid.

He shut the lid.

To me, woven with their greatness, the fate of kings is ever one of melancholy; and the incident I have just recounted so shadowed, in a moment, the cheerfulness which had accompanied me throughout the day, that I could not observe with attention any other object of interest which presented itself, my only wish being to leave Rosenberg as speedily as I had entered it; nor could I forget the utter desolation of a man's soul, who, standing in the midst of all earthly magnificence, knows himself clad as he will be for the coffin. How impotent must seem all authority! how wan all mirth! how false all the envied supremacy of his birth!

To me, intertwined with their greatness, the destiny of kings is always one of sadness; and the incident I just described so shadowed, in an instant, the happiness that had accompanied me throughout the day, that I couldn’t pay attention to any other interesting thing that came up, my only desire being to leave Rosenberg as quickly as I had arrived; nor could I forget the complete emptiness of a man's soul, who, standing among all earthly splendor, knows he is dressed as he will be for the grave. How powerless all authority must seem! How faded all joy! How false all the envied status of his birth!

Finding it was five o'clock, we gave a small fee to the Dane, who still kept chuckling at the capital trick he had played us with the split ceiling, and we left Rosenberg to prepare for dinner.

Finding it was five o'clock, we paid a small fee to the Dane, who was still chuckling at the clever trick he had pulled on us with the split ceiling, and we left Rosenberg to get ready for dinner.

[Pg 106]The good people at Copenhagen generally dine at the early hour of our English forefathers; but Sir Henry Whynne had altered his dinner time to meet our habits.

[Pg 106]The nice folks in Copenhagen usually eat dinner at the early hour that our English ancestors did; however, Sir Henry Whynne had changed his dinner time to fit our routines.

Mr. C—— would, in spite of all the civilities we called to forbid it, see us to the boat; and, then, promising to "look us up" on the morrow, vanished as suddenly as Fortunatus would have done with his invisible cap.

Mr. C—— would, despite all our polite attempts to stop him, insisted on seeing us to the boat; and then, promising to "check in on us" the next day, disappeared as suddenly as Fortunatus would have with his invisible cap.







CHAPTER VII.

DINNER AT THE EMBASSY—MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE DANES—THE SPANISH AMBASSADOR AND THE ENGLISH EXILE—THE CITADEL—STORY OF THE TWO CAPTIVES—JOE WASHIMTUM, AGAIN—A DANISH DINNER—VISIT TO THE THEATRE—POLITICAL REFLECTIONS—FESTIVITIES ON BOARD THE YACHT—MERRY PARTY AT THE AMERICAN AMBASSADOR'S—THE DUCHIES OF SCHLESWIG AND HOLSTEIN.

DINNER AT THE EMBASSY—MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE DANES—THE SPANISH AMBASSADOR AND THE ENGLISH EXILE—THE CITADEL—STORY OF THE TWO CAPTIVES—JOE WASHIMTUM, AGAIN—A DANISH DINNER—VISIT TO THE THEATER—POLITICAL REFLECTIONS—FESTIVITIES ON BOARD THE YACHT—FUN PARTY AT THE AMERICAN AMBASSADOR'S—THE DUCHIES OF SCHLESWIG AND HOLSTEIN.


At the Embassy we met, besides other guests, whose names I remember not, the Baron de B——, a Holstein noble, and the Spanish Minister, from both of whom, during the time we remained afterwards at Copenhagen, we received the most marked kindness and attention. These two noblemen had passed some brief period of their lives in London, as ambassadors to the English court; and they ceased not telling us how great were the hospitality, and how sincere the friendship, [Pg 107]which had been heaped upon them by our countrymen; and they said, they could never, either by expression or deed, show too much gratitude for the happiness they had felt.

At the Embassy, we met, among other guests whose names I don't remember, the Baron de B——, a noble from Holstein, and the Spanish Minister. Throughout our time in Copenhagen, they both showed us incredible kindness and attention. These two gentlemen had spent a brief time in London as ambassadors to the English court, and they continuously shared how welcoming and genuine the friendship was [Pg 107] they received from our fellow countrymen. They said they could never express their gratitude enough for the happiness they experienced.

While watching Jacko's gambols on deck this morning, I heard some one hail the yacht; and, taking up a telescope, I discerned on the quay, the Spanish Minister waving his handkerchief. The gig was immediately sent for him. He came for the purpose of conducting us over the town, and showing us all the public buildings and offices we had not yet seen. After passing an hour on board, we all started with him for the shore.

While watching Jacko play on deck this morning, I heard someone call out to the yacht; and, picking up a telescope, I saw the Spanish Minister on the quay waving his handkerchief. A boat was immediately sent for him. He came to take us around the town and show us the public buildings and offices we hadn’t seen yet. After spending an hour on board, we all left with him for the shore.

I observed to-day, that the houses in Copenhagen, like the houses in Holland, are inhabited by people equally inquisitive, and who desire to know all that is going on in the streets, without being subjected to the trouble of leaving their seats; for all the windows are supplied with reflecting glasses, which are so placed, that you may see from the top of one street to the bottom of another. This custom is peculiar, also, to Norway and Sweden; for, I remember, when I was at Gottenborg, paying a visit to a Swedish lady, she told me that she knew an Englishman was in the town, although she had never met me in the streets, or even heard of me from her friends. I begged to learn the charm. She then took me to a window, and, directing my attention to a reflecting glass, requested that I would look in it. I [Pg 108]did so; and could see upwards of a mile from the window while seated in an arm-chair. She had observed me, some days before, standing on a bridge about three quarters of a mile from her residence, looking at some Swedish washerwomen hard at their work.

I noticed today that the houses in Copenhagen, like those in Holland, are occupied by people who are just as curious and want to keep up with everything happening in the streets without leaving their seats. All the windows have mirrors that are positioned so you can see all the way from the top of one street to the end of another. This practice is also common in Norway and Sweden. I remember when I was in Gothenburg visiting a Swedish lady, she mentioned that she knew an Englishman was in town, even though she had never seen me on the streets or heard about me from her friends. I asked her how she knew. She took me to a window, pointed out a mirror, and asked me to look into it. I did, and I could see over a mile from the window while sitting in a chair. She had spotted me a few days earlier, standing on a bridge about three-quarters of a mile from her home, watching some Swedish washerwomen busy at work.

A beggar is rarely to be seen in Copenhagen, since the charitable institutions for the sick, the poor, and cripple, are very numerous. Now and then, a little girl or boy, accosts an Englishman in a plaintive tone; but it is merely for the sake of gaping at him. At an early hour of the morning prisoners are made to clean the streets; and you may know them by the attendant soldier, and the heavy chain attached to their legs. After visiting several public museums, we walked towards the Spanish Minister's residence. When within a short distance of the house, turning suddenly round a corner, we met our old friend Mr. C——. His delight in stumbling upon us so opportunely, as he was on his way to the yacht, was evident both by his ecstasy of manner and voice. The Spaniard thought him an acquaintance of ours; and, when we arrived at his gate, begged Mr. C——, who needed no solicitation, to enter. After we had taken off our hats, and not yet taken our seats,

A beggar is rarely seen in Copenhagen since there are many charities for the sick, poor, and disabled. Occasionally, a little girl or boy approaches an Englishman in a sad tone, but it's really just for the sake of staring at him. In the early morning, prisoners are made to clean the streets, and you can spot them by the guard and the heavy chain attached to their legs. After visiting several public museums, we walked towards the Spanish Minister's residence. As we got close to the house, we suddenly turned a corner and ran into our old friend Mr. C——. His joy at bumping into us so conveniently, as he was on his way to the yacht, was obvious from his ecstatic manner and voice. The Spaniard thought he was one of our friends and, when we reached his gate, asked Mr. C——, who didn’t need any urging, to come in. After we took off our hats and still hadn't taken our seats,

"Well, now," began the voluble Mr. C——, "have you seen every thing? Have you been to the University Library, or the Church of Our Saviour?"

"Well, now," started the talkative Mr. C——, "have you seen everything? Have you been to the University Library or the Church of Our Savior?"

[Pg 109]"No, we had not," we said; "but at any rate we were too tired to go anywhere else to-day."

[Pg 109] "No, we hadn't," we said; "but anyway, we were too exhausted to go anywhere else today."

"Bless me!" he exclaimed, "when I was as young as you are, I could walk to Elsineur, and back again; and did. Let's go to the Thorwaldsen Museum, eh?"

"Wow!" he said, "when I was your age, I could walk to Elsineur and back; and I did. How about we go to the Thorwaldsen Museum, huh?"

"I don't think it is open," replied the Spanish Minister.

"I don't think it's open," replied the Spanish Minister.

"I'll go and see;" and away started Mr. C—— to make inquiry.

"I'll go check it out," Mr. C—— said as he left to ask around.

"Do you know who that is?" I asked, addressing myself to the Spanish Minister, as soon as Mr. C—— had left the room.

"Do you know who that is?" I asked the Spanish Minister as soon as Mr. C—— had left the room.

"Why, yes; I do know a little about him," answered the Spaniard; "but I deemed him a friend of yours." We then explained the origin of our acquaintance.

"Yes, I know a bit about him," replied the Spaniard, "but I thought he was a friend of yours." We then clarified how we met.

"Exactly," replied the Minister, when he had listened to all. "He is a man who makes it his habit to introduce himself to all Englishmen who may come to Copenhagen; and although he may, by his importunate bearing, torment them, he is, at the same time, of some service; and only desires to be attentive."

"Exactly," replied the Minister after he had listened to everything. "He’s a guy who makes it a point to introduce himself to every Englishman who comes to Copenhagen. And even though his persistent approach can be annoying, he does provide some help and just wants to be attentive."

"Is he a respectable person?" I said. "By his dress he seems poor; but that is not fatal to his respectability."

"Is he a respectable person?" I asked. "By his clothing, he looks poor; but that doesn’t automatically mean he isn’t respectable."

"Why, no; you are right," the Minister said. "Mr. C—— has no enemy in Copenhagen but himself. He came here without a friend some years ago, and received, in pity [Pg 110]for his condition of poverty, a lucrative appointment from the Danish Government. Mr. C—— could have held that appointment till this moment; but his partiality for the society of Silenus, and the punctuality with which he every day mounted his ass, caused him to ride at last out of the bounds of all moderation; and the Government was compelled to deprive him of his office. From that day till this morning he has been known as an amiable, inoffensive man, and as the drunken Englishman."

"Well, no; you’re right," the Minister said. "Mr. C—— doesn’t have any enemies in Copenhagen except himself. He came here alone a few years ago and was given, out of compassion [Pg 110] for his poverty, a well-paying job from the Danish Government. Mr. C—— could have kept that job until now; but his fondness for hanging out with Silenus, and the way he diligently rode his donkey every day, eventually led him to go way overboard; and the Government had no choice but to strip him of his position. Since that day until this morning, he has been known as a kind, harmless guy, and as the drunken Englishman."

"He is a man, then," we all three said, "whose intimacy it were wise to drop."

"He is a man, then," we all said, "whose closeness it would be wise to avoid."

"Why, I think so," agreed the Spaniard; "for, though no one can accuse him of a dishonest action, it is as well, for the sake of appearance,—and society is made of appearances,—to be without him in public."

"Yeah, I believe so," agreed the Spaniard; "because, although nobody can say he's done anything dishonest, it's better, for the sake of appearances—since society is all about appearances—to not have him around in public."

"But how can we rid ourselves of him without giving offence, or hurting his feelings?"

"But how can we get rid of him without offending him or hurting his feelings?"

"Allow me," said the Spanish Minister, "to arrange that the best way I can."

"Let me," said the Spanish Minister, "handle it in the best way I can."

We had scarcely spoken, and the Minister made an end of recounting this error in the life of Mr. C——, than he entered the room, hurriedly, panting with the information he had obtained.

We had hardly said anything, and as the Minister finished telling this mistake in Mr. C——'s life, he rushed into the room, out of breath with the information he had gathered.

"It is open," he uttered, breathlessly,—"it is open;—and I will conduct you. I have told—the authorities that you are three countrymen of mine,—and you will receive attention—depend upon it."

"It’s open,” he said, out of breath, “it’s open; and I’ll take you there. I’ve informed the authorities that you’re three of my fellow countrymen, and you’ll get the help you need—count on it.”

[Pg 111]"These gentlemen," interceded the Spanish Minister, "do not desire to go to the Museum to-day; they have altered their minds."

[Pg 111]"These gentlemen," interrupted the Spanish Minister, "no longer wish to go to the Museum today; they've changed their minds."

"Oh!—very well," said Mr. C——, nothing daunted; "let's go elsewhere. Time's my own—time's my own. I suppose time is yours, my Lord,—and yours, and yours?" addressing himself to us individually, and noting us, as a shepherd would count his flock, with the tip of his forefinger.

"Oh!—fine," said Mr. C——, not at all discouraged; "let's go somewhere else. Time’s my own—time's my own. I guess time is yours, my Lord,—and yours, and yours?" he asked, looking at each of us individually and tallying us up like a shepherd counting his sheep with the tip of his finger.

"Yes, certainly," we replied; "yes, time is ours."

"Yes, of course," we replied; "yes, time is on our side."

"But," again interposed the Spanish Minister, "if these gentlemen do go anywhere, I have offered to accompany them, and my services have been accepted. Both of us are needless."

"But," the Spanish Minister said again, "if these gentlemen are going anywhere, I've offered to join them, and they've accepted my help. Both of us are unnecessary."

"Of course, your Excellency," replied poor old C——, "I yield; for you are, by your rank, abler than I am to secure for them that attention which, as strangers, they merit." He held his hand out to us, which we received with cordiality; and he took his leave, hoping that we might find gratification in everything we saw.

"Of course, Your Excellency," replied poor old C——, "I yield; because your rank makes you more capable than I am at ensuring that they receive the attention they deserve as strangers." He extended his hand to us, which we accepted warmly; and he took his leave, wishing that we would find joy in everything we experienced.

When Mr. C—— had gone, the Minister showed us several curiosities in his possession, and amongst them a beautiful Spanish dagger. The steel was so hard, that, a Danish copper coin, about the size and solidity of an English penny, was placed horizontally on a marble slab, and the Spanish Minister, with one blow, [Pg 112]pierced the piece of money with the dagger's point without blunting it in the least.

When Mr. C—— left, the Minister showed us several interesting items he owned, including a stunning Spanish dagger. The steel was so tough that a Danish copper coin, roughly the same size and sturdiness as an English penny, was laid flat on a marble slab, and the Spanish Minister, with one strike, [Pg 112]pierced the coin with the dagger's tip without dulling it at all.

The cloudless sky and grateful warmth of the sun made us prefer the open air to the confined gases of museums, libraries, laboratories, cathedrals, and their vaults; and, wandering along the fortifications which surround the city till we reached Fredrikshavn, we passed through a private way and entered the fortress itself. As we sauntered along, conversing on various subjects, a culprit of some kind—for this fortress is full of them—would occasionally cross our path, and add interest to our discourse by the Minister's recital of some remarkable incident in the man's life, which had brought him to the condition of a slave. Although the inner ramparts, or citadel, of Fredrikshavn are not allowed to be approached by any one, the rank of the Spanish Minister seemed to cause an exception in his favour; for, as we came near to the drawbridge leading over the inside moat of all, the two sentinels, who were on duty, recognised the Minister, and, instead of stopping us, presented arms.

The clear sky and warm sunshine made us prefer being outdoors over the stuffy atmosphere of museums, libraries, labs, cathedrals, and their vaults. As we strolled along the city’s fortifications until we reached Fredrikshavn, we took a private path and entered the fortress itself. While we chatted about various topics, a convict of some sort—because this fortress is filled with them—would occasionally walk by, adding intrigue to our conversation with the Minister’s stories about some remarkable event in the man's life that had led him to become a slave. Although no one is allowed close to the inner ramparts or citadel of Fredrikshavn, the Spanish Minister's status seemed to make an exception for him. As we approached the drawbridge over the inner moat, the two sentinels on duty recognized the Minister and, instead of stopping us, saluted.

Within these ramparts, on a wooden bench, from which the Sound, spotted with the white sails of many ships,—and, faintly, the distant mountains of Sweden,—might be seen, two black men sat. Removed at a distance of twenty yards from them, four sentinels stood, resting carelessly, with folded arms, on the [Pg 113]muzzles of their fire-locks; but, even in this negligence, paying much attention to the movements of these black men. We stopped and observed the strange group; and our sympathy was moved by the dress and melancholy demeanour of the two men. The one nearest to us, who appeared the eldest, rested his chin on the back of his hands, which were clasped round the top of a large walking-stick; and in that attitude kept his eyes fixed on the blue waters of the Sound; his thoughts, no doubt, wandering to his home, some pleasant spot, far away. His hat was brown by long use, and rent at the rims, beneath which his white hair, here and there, straggled forth. His coat, once black, was now thread-bare and worn at the elbows; while his shoes, almost without soles, kept sad unison with the other parts of his dress. The other old man, whose clothes were equally squalid, sat more upright, and seemed livelier, and of a lighter heart, misfortune not having yet touched so blightingly the natural volatility of his disposition; for, now and then, he spoke in low tones to his companion, who sometimes smiled, but rarely made answer.

Within these walls, on a wooden bench where you could see the Sound dotted with the white sails of many ships—and faintly, the distant mountains of Sweden—two black men sat. About twenty yards away, four sentinels stood, resting casually with their arms crossed on the [Pg 113]muzzles of their rifles; but even in this relaxed posture, they were paying close attention to the movements of these black men. We stopped and watched the unusual scene, and our hearts went out to the two men, impacted by their clothing and sad demeanor. The one closest to us, appearing to be the elder, rested his chin on the back of his hands, which were clasped around the top of a large walking stick; in that position, he kept his gaze fixed on the blue waters of the Sound, no doubt lost in thoughts of his home, some lovely place far away. His hat was brown from years of use and frayed at the edges, under which his white hair peeked out in places. His coat, once black, was now threadbare and worn at the elbows, while his shoes, nearly sole-less, matched the overall neglected appearance of his outfit. The other old man, dressed in equally shabby clothes, sat with a straighter posture and appeared more animated, his spirit not yet severely dampened by misfortune; occasionally, he spoke quietly to his companion, who smiled now and then, but rarely responded.

"You are observing those black men?" said the Spanish Minister. "They are the most interesting objects in Copenhagen."

"You watching those black guys?" said the Spanish Minister. "They’re the most intriguing people in Copenhagen."

"Who are they?" we asked.

"Who are they?" we asked.

"Those two men," continued the Spaniard, "were once men of note in their own country; [Pg 114]and their misfortune resolves itself into this simple tale. The man with grey hair, nearest to us, seemingly bent with excess of sorrow, was the king of some Danish colony in the East Indies; and the other, his favourite minister. After having reigned for many years with equity and wisdom, and having seen his little island, cradled in the lap of peace, put forth the strength of prosperity, the old monarch's bright day of happiness and glory was suddenly overshadowed by a cloud, which, though, by its insignificance, at first unobserved, gradually gained bulk and darkness, and replete, at last, with all the elements of storm and destruction, burst upon his head. A man murdered a woman, his wife; and, according to the criminal code of his country, was arrested, tried, and convicted; and this king, by the advice of his minister, ordered the assassin to be executed. The intelligence reached the ears of the Court of Denmark, and by command of Christian, the black monarch and his adviser were arrested, on the plea, that, the one being, though a monarch, a subject of Denmark, had no power to carry the statutes of his own realm summarily into effect, without the previous assent of the Danish Government; and, that, the other, being the principal minister, was as culpable as his master in permitting such an infringement of the law. They were both subsequently tried for the offence, and being found [Pg 115]guilty, were placed on board a Danish ship of war, and brought to Copenhagen, where, within this fortress, they are doomed to pass, in solitary confinement, the small portion of life which may yet remain to them."

"Those two men," the Spaniard continued, "were once significant figures in their own country; [Pg 114] and their misfortune comes down to this simple story. The man with the grey hair, closest to us, who seems bent by deep sorrow, was the king of a Danish colony in the East Indies; and the other was his favorite minister. After ruling for many years with fairness and wisdom, and having seen his small island flourish in peace and prosperity, the old king's bright days of happiness and glory were suddenly overshadowed by a storm cloud, which, though initially unnoticeable due to its small size, gradually grew larger and darker, eventually bursting forth with all the elements of chaos and destruction. A man murdered a woman, his wife; and according to the laws of his country, he was arrested, tried, and convicted; and this king, following his minister's advice, ordered the murderer to be executed. This news reached Denmark, and under the orders of Christian, the black king and his advisor were arrested on the grounds that, despite being a monarch, he was a subject of Denmark and had no authority to enact the laws of his realm without the Danish Government's prior approval; and that his minister was equally culpable for allowing such a breach of law to happen. They were both later tried for the offense, and after being found [Pg 115] guilty, were placed aboard a Danish warship and taken to Copenhagen, where they are condemned to spend the remaining days of their lives in solitary confinement within this fortress."

The guns of the citadel, as I said before, are of immense dimensions; and I do not think I exaggerate when I state that the body of a child, nine or ten years old, may very easily be placed inside of them. I never saw such heavy cannon either at Portsmouth, Plymouth, Dover, or any other fortified port in England. The sentinels would not allow us to take a minute survey of these ordnance; but as soon as we walked round from the muzzle to the breech, in order to examine their really herculean proportions, a bayonet, thrust before our eyes, would be sure to interrupt the stream of information which commenced flowing through them to the mind. I suppose the soldier had read or heard of England, and thinking the people who lived in it, or came from it, were wonderful creatures, deemed it not impossible we might put a few of the guns under his charge into our pockets, and walk off with them; and unless that was his thought, I cannot conceive what mischief can arise from four gentlemen looking at four dismounted guns. However, governments, like men, have their whims; and it is of very little use trying to talk them out of their fallacies. It is as likely, [Pg 116]that, when meeting a maniac in Bedlam, who fancies himself Napoleon Buonaparte, or any other pagod, you will be able to point out the delusion under which he labours, and to assure him that his social position, though respectable, was never imperial. He will understand you as soon, and as soon assent to the truth of your observations.

The guns of the fortress are huge, and I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that you could easily fit the body of a nine or ten-year-old child inside them. I've never seen such heavy artillery at Portsmouth, Plymouth, Dover, or any other fortified port in England. The guards wouldn't let us take a close look at the cannons, but as soon as we circled from the muzzle to the breech to check out their truly massive size, a bayonet pointed at us would usually stop the flow of information we were absorbing. I guess the soldier had heard of England and, thinking that people from there must be remarkable, believed it was possible we might try to sneak a few of the cannons away with us. If that wasn’t his thought, I can’t figure out what harm could come from four gentlemen looking at four dismounted guns. However, governments are like people; they have their quirks, and it's pretty pointless to argue them out of their misconceptions. It's much like trying to convince a madman in a mental hospital, who thinks he's Napoleon Bonaparte or some other deity, that his belief is a delusion and that his respectable social status was never imperial. He'll understand you about as quickly, and agree with your observations just as fast.

Our scrutiny had been thus interrupted, when the Baron de B—— came up to us. We had expressed a desire to eat, for the mere sake of saying hereafter that we had eaten, a real Copenhagen dinner, and the Baron offered to show us an hotel, where we could gratify our wish to the utmost extent. Having made no arrangements to dine on board, we started at once for the hotel; and it turned out to be the identical one at which my old acquaintance, Joe Washimtum, held the official post of commissionaire. Like those useful and diligent bees of the great hive of mankind, Joe was standing, with his black hands in his black breeches' pocket, beneath the huge arch of the Hôtel d'Angleterre, chattering and laughing with a few other bees of a similar calling, but of a different colour to himself. Joe raised his white hat five distinct times the instant he saw our party, and, advancing towards us, he observed, still with doffed hat and bended body,

Our conversation was interrupted when Baron de B—— approached us. We had mentioned wanting to enjoy a true Copenhagen dinner, just to say we had experienced it, and the Baron offered to show us a hotel where we could fulfill that desire completely. Since we hadn’t made any plans to dine on board, we headed straight to the hotel. It turned out to be the same place where my old friend, Joe Washimtum, worked as a commissionaire. Like the diligent bees in society, Joe was standing under the large arch of the Hôtel d'Angleterre, with his black hands in his black pants pocket, chatting and laughing with a few other guys doing similar work, though they looked different from him. As soon as he spotted our group, Joe raised his white hat five times and, approaching us with his hat off and bowing,

"Good accummumdashum, gentlemen!"

"Good accumulation, gentlemen!"

"These gentlemen can dine here, can they [Pg 117]not?" said the Baron de B., appealing to the exquisite Joe.

"These gentlemen can eat here, can they [Pg 117]not?" said the Baron de B., turning to the elegant Joe.

"No doubt at arl, sir, in de questchums," replied Joe quickly, and with his Æthiopian face shining like a bright boot.

"No doubt at all, sir, about that," replied Joe quickly, his face shining like a polished boot.

After the Baron de B., and the Spanish Minister had seen that we were likely to encounter no difficulties under the protection of Joe, they left us, expressing much regret they could not remain with us, being obliged to dine at the Palace. When they had gone, "Dis way, gentlemen, dis way," Joe breathed softly, and marshalled us his own peculiar way. Joe soon put the whole hotel in an uproar by his magnificent description of our personal rank and appearance; and in about ten minutes every lacquey and scullery maid in the establishment knew that we were the identical Englishmen who had come to Copenhagen in a yacht.

After the Baron de B. and the Spanish Minister realized we were unlikely to face any issues under Joe's protection, they left us, expressing regret that they couldn't stay because they had to go dine at the Palace. Once they were gone, Joe softly said, "This way, gentlemen, this way," and guided us in his own unique style. Joe quickly stirred up the entire hotel with his impressive tales about our social status and appearance; within about ten minutes, every servant and kitchen staff member in the place knew that we were the very same Englishmen who had arrived in Copenhagen by yacht.

Joe had ascertained, somehow or other, there was a nobleman among us; but his sagacity failed on this occasion, and he could not make out which was the substantive Briton. Joe, however, was not to be done, and so, after awhile, he addressed us all, as "my Lard;" and, though quite out of his province, he would stand at the door of the room where we dined, and see that the waiters attended properly, and were sufficiently agile in their movements. Joe, moreover, acted as interpreter.

Joe had figured out, somehow, that there was a nobleman among us; but this time his intuition let him down, and he couldn't identify who the actual Briton was. However, Joe wasn't easily discouraged, so after a while, he called us all "my Lord;" and even though it wasn't really his place, he stood by the door of the dining room to make sure the waiters were doing their jobs properly and moving quickly enough. Additionally, Joe took on the role of interpreter.

"Waiter, some bread?"

"Could I get some bread?"

[Pg 118]"Es, my Lard," Joe would reply to me, and transfer the command in Danish to the waiter.

[Pg 118]"Yes, my lord," Joe would respond to me, and pass the order in Danish to the waiter.

"Hock, waiter;—bring some hock."

"Waiter, bring some hock."

"Suttinlee, my Lard," said Joe to P.; then coming up to the table, and, leaning confidentially over it, observed.

"Suttinlee, my Lord," said Joe to P.; then coming up to the table and leaning in confidentially, he observed.

"Me would recumdate, my Lard, de Bunseppalouse, it bery good wine, cumsiddumrately dan de hock."

"Me would recommend, my Lord, the Bonnezeppalouse; it's very good wine, considerably better than the hock."

"How do you know; have you tasted it?" said R.

"How do you know? Have you tried it?" said R.

"No, my Lard; me only go by de smell—him bery rifferous, bery, my Lard;" and Joe sniffed till the steam from the vegetables rushed up his nostrils.

"No, my Lord; I only go by the smell—it's very strong, very, my Lord;" and Joe sniffed until the steam from the vegetables rushed up his nose.

"I say," R called out to Joe, as he was disappearing over the threshold in search of the Bunseppalouse, "you black pudding, you; what do you mean by my Lard? can't you pronounce your O's? what do you with your A's, when you meet them?"

"I say," R called out to Joe as he disappeared over the threshold in search of the Bunseppalouse, "you black pudding, you; what do you mean by my Lard? Can't you pronounce your O's? What do you do with your A's when you come across them?"

"Leeb um to himself, my Lard," replied Joe, deferring his exit; "nebber trouble him; if me do, me bery quick wid him."

"Leave him alone, my Lord," replied Joe, postponing his departure. "Never bother him; if I do, I'm very quick with him."

"Oh! that's your syntax, is it?" said R.

"Oh! That's your syntax, huh?" said R.

"Hebben forbid, my Lard, me gib de King money;" answered Joe solemnly. "Dat d— bad polumcy."

"Have forbid, my Lord, give me the King's money," answered Joe solemnly. "That d— bad policy."

Joe had evidently mistaken the signification of the word "syntax," and, catching the last syllable, concluded that R. referred to the system universally adopted to supply the [Pg 119]pecuniary wants of a government; and therefore the solemnity of his answer.

Joe had clearly misunderstood the meaning of the word "syntax," and, picking up on the last syllable, assumed that R. was referring to the system commonly used to meet the [Pg 119]financial needs of a government; hence the seriousness of his response.

I cannot say much in favour either of the dinner or the wine, vinegar being the dominant ingredient of both; and, do what we would with mustard and pepper, its pungent taste remained.

I can't say much about the dinner or the wine, since vinegar was the main ingredient in both. No matter how much we tried to add mustard and pepper, the sharp taste still stayed.

The evening turned out very wet, so that the only amusement we could find was to stand at the window, and criticise the different carriages as they passed on their way to the theatre. I certainly never saw such rusty old rattle-traps, and I do not except the king's equipage, since the hackney landaus have been abolished in England.

The evening ended up being really rainy, so the only fun we could find was standing by the window, criticizing the different carriages as they went by on their way to the theater. I've honestly never seen such rusty old clunkers, and that includes the king's carriage, ever since they got rid of the hackney landaus in England.

While we were smoking our cigars, Joe came into the room, and desired to know if we would allow him to show us the "Coal Holes" and "Cider Cellars" of Copenhagen; but we told him we were travelling in order to gather information and reform our morals, and not to pass the night in revelling. Convincing Joe that we were not in the vein to leave our arm-chairs, and begging him not to call us all "my Lard," since there was but one "Lard" between the three, we asked him whence he came.

While we were smoking our cigars, Joe walked into the room and asked if we would let him show us the "Coal Holes" and "Cider Cellars" of Copenhagen. But we told him we were traveling to gather information and improve our morals, not to spend the night partying. We made it clear to Joe that we weren’t in the mood to leave our chairs and asked him not to call us all "my Lord," since there was only one "Lord" among the three of us. Then we asked him where he came from.

"Me jist leebe Flora."

"Me just love Flora."

"No, no," I said; "in what part of the world were you born?"

"No, no," I said; "where in the world were you born?"

"Oh! dat one oder ting. Me barn in Jamaikee, sir; but me leebe um two tree year ago."

"Oh! That one other thing. I was born in Jamaica, sir; but I left it two or three years ago."

[Pg 120]"What made you leave the island?" I inquired.

[Pg 120] "What made you leave the island?" I asked.

"Bekase him not de same kind of place, sir, as before—de niggers grow so d—— imperant."

"Because it's not the same kind of place, sir, as before—those people have become so damn arrogant."

"But you must find Copenhagen very cold and uncomfortable," I replied; "and surely impudence in one's own country is more tolerable than discomfort and winter here."

"But you must find Copenhagen really cold and uncomfortable," I replied; "and surely rudeness in your own country is easier to handle than discomfort and winter here."

"No, sir," answered Joe, all the soul of his great namesake, Washington, beaming through his eyes; "me no tollumrate imperance; one imperant raskill make me blood cold more dan de winter do. Jamaikee no de place for de man of eddumcashum."

"No, sir," Joe replied, all the spirit of his famous namesake, Washington, shining through his eyes; "I can't tolerate impertinence; one arrogant fool makes my blood run cold more than the winter does. Jamaica isn't the place for an educated man."

"In fact, you left it in disgust," I suggested.

"In fact, you left it in disgust," I suggested.

"Suttinlee, sir," replied Joe; then seeming anxious to forget Jamaica, and every thing connected with it, he said,

"Suttinlee, sir," replied Joe; then, looking eager to put Jamaica and everything related to it behind him, he said,

"Me hope you like you dinner, gentlemen; and will disgest him," he continued.

"Hope you enjoy your dinner, gentlemen; and that you can digest it," he continued.

"I hope we shall digest it," I answered; "but there was vinegar enough to stop any human creature's growth."

"I hope we can handle it," I replied; "but there was enough vinegar to stunt anyone's growth."

"Me said so, sir!" exclaimed Joe; "me tell Monsieur Sangnette so; dem French cooks, debilish fond of souring deir tings. Me nebber widout um stomick ache; d— de feller!" and Joe hurried out of the room, before his anger had cooled, to inform M. Sangnette how dissatisfied we were with the dinner, and what [Pg 121]torture, similar to his own, we should soon undergo.

"That's what I said, sir!" exclaimed Joe; "I told Monsieur Sangnette that those French cooks are ridiculously fond of making everything sour. I’m never without a stomachache; damn that guy!" Joe rushed out of the room before his anger could fade, to let M. Sangnette know how unhappy we were with the dinner and what [Pg 121] torture, similar to his own, we would soon endure.

Before ten o'clock I was in my berth, listening to the rain pattering on the deck, the trickling noise of which conveyed to my mind, as I lay in my warm bed, an absorbing feeling of comfort, which can only be conceived by those who have a roof to shelter their heads from the pitiless storm. I remained awake for some hours; and, beside the falling of the rain, and the sharp bubbling sound of its big drops as they fell into the sea close to the vessel's side, the night was so still, that I could hear the sentinels in the citadel of Fredrikshavn demanding the pass-word, as the officer went his rounds. When our watch, too, struck the hour, I could follow the echo of the bell, rising and sinking, half way across the Sound.

Before ten o'clock, I was in my bunk, listening to the rain pattering on the deck. The sound, as I lay in my warm bed, gave me a deep sense of comfort that only someone with a roof over their head can truly understand when facing a relentless storm. I stayed awake for several hours; apart from the rain falling and the sharp bubbling sound of the big drops hitting the sea close to the ship's side, the night was so quiet that I could hear the guards at the citadel in Fredrikshavn calling for the pass-word as the officer made his rounds. When our watch struck the hour, I could even hear the echo of the bell rising and falling halfway across the Sound.

Early on Thursday morning, before I had dressed, I heard the scraping of feet on deck, and a man, in a broad Yorkshire dialect, as I thought, asking a thousand questions, one after the other, and answering himself before any person else could find time even to open his own mouth. I could hear R—— in his berth make reply to the steward; and,

Early on Thursday morning, before I got dressed, I heard footsteps on the deck, and a man, who I thought spoke with a broad Yorkshire accent, was asking a hundred questions one after another and answering himself before anyone else even had a chance to say anything. I could hear R—— in his bunk responding to the steward; and,

"Say I am in bed," rose in muffled tones above the sheets.

"Say I'm in bed," rose in soft tones above the sheets.

I looked through the sky-light in my cabin, and saw two gentlemen standing in mid-ship on the lee side, and one of them with a [Pg 122]pencil was writing on a piece of paper, which he placed against the lee-runner block to supply the conveniences of a desk. As soon as I was dressed, I learned that the American Minister, Mr. I——, and a Captain W—— had been on board, and that the Minister had requested us to dine with him on the following day. R—— hesitated about accepting the invitation, for he had half made up his mind to leave Copenhagen to-day; but after a little consideration, it was deemed advisable to defer our departure till Saturday, and dine with Mr. I——.

I looked through the skylight in my cabin and saw two gentlemen standing in the middle of the ship on the side sheltered from the wind. One of them was using a [Pg 122] pencil to write on a piece of paper, which he propped against the lee runner block to use as a makeshift desk. Once I got dressed, I found out that the American Minister, Mr. I——, and a Captain W—— had been on board, and that the Minister had invited us to dinner with him the next day. R—— was unsure about accepting the invitation because he was thinking about leaving Copenhagen today; however, after some thought, we decided it would be best to postpone our departure until Saturday and have dinner with Mr. I——.

At twelve o'clock I rowed myself ashore and passed half the afternoon under the shady trees on the ramparts of Fredrikshavn. At the mouth of the harbour lies a Danish frigate at anchor; and, I suppose, from the position she has taken up, is intended for the guard-ship. The Danish ships of war are in no way inferior to the British; and, at Elsineur, we brought up alongside a 36-gun frigate which was the perfect combination of elegance and strength; nor did I at Portsmouth, or anywhere else, see a finer model. From the spot where I stand, I can catch a glimpse of the dockyards, and the hulls of six dismounted men-of-war. I have been told, that the Danish Government intends to build steam-frigates, and will have nothing more to do with sailing vessels of war. The Danes may be right, or they may be wrong; but what [Pg 123]will be the result of any future naval engagement where steam alone, or canvass alone is used, is beyond the intelligence of any living creature. On all human events, such as the issues of peace and war, human beings may conjecture, but cannot determine so precisely.

At noon, I rowed myself ashore and spent half the afternoon relaxing under the shady trees on the ramparts of Fredrikshavn. At the entrance of the harbor, there's a Danish frigate anchored, and I assume it's meant to be the guard ship based on its position. Danish warships are just as impressive as the British ones; at Elsineur, we tied up next to a 36-gun frigate that was a perfect blend of elegance and strength, and I didn't see a better model in Portsmouth or anywhere else. From where I'm standing, I can see the shipyards and the hulls of six decommissioned warships. I’ve heard that the Danish Government plans to build steam frigates and is moving away from sails for war vessels. The Danes could be right or wrong, but what [Pg 123] will come of any future naval battle using only steam or only sails is beyond the understanding of any living being. In matters of human affairs, like the outcomes of peace and war, people can speculate but can’t predict with certainty.

When I returned on board, I found the cook very busily binding, with a piece of yarn, an immense round of beef, which had been purchased for the crew by R——, in order that they might have a regular jollification to-morrow, it being his birthday. Along the rigging were white trowsers, check shirts, and all the other paraphernalia of a sailor's wardrobe, hung up to swing to the wind, and dry; and, as Jerome sat on the windlass, scraping and screwing his fiddle by way of tuning, I could plainly be made to understand that Friday, the 21st of May, was not intended to be passed over with the indifference of any ordinary day,—at least, not on board the Iris. In a few minutes, while I still listened to the plaintive screams of Jerome's fiddle, as he urged the strings to their proper tension, the dingy shot alongside laden with bundles of brown sugar, multitudes of raisins and currants, and a small bucket of lemons. Jacko, also, mounted, as wont, on Sailor's back, rode from end to end of the yacht, like a general officer, reviewing, and sometimes descending to taste the different dainties as they arrived from the shore; while Sailor would, for no reason [Pg 124]whatever, but from mere delight, burst into a loud bark, much to the consternation of Jacko, who would leap from his seat in an instant, and standing, at a little distance, on his hind legs, chatter with excessive alarm.

When I got back on board, I found the cook busy tying up a huge round of beef with a piece of yarn. It had been bought for the crew by R—— so they could have a proper celebration tomorrow since it was his birthday. Hanging along the rigging were white trousers, checkered shirts, and all the other gear of a sailor's wardrobe, swaying in the wind to dry. As Jerome sat on the windlass tuning his fiddle, it was clear that Friday, the 21st of May, was not just going to be another ordinary day—at least not on the Iris. A few minutes later, while I still listened to the mournful sounds of Jerome's fiddle as he adjusted the strings, a dingy pulled up alongside loaded with bundles of brown sugar, tons of raisins and currants, and a small bucket of lemons. Jacko, as usual, mounted on Sailor's back, rode back and forth across the yacht like a general inspecting his troops, occasionally jumping down to sample the treats arriving from the shore. Sailor would, for no apparent reason but sheer joy, suddenly bark loudly, which would startle Jacko, causing him to jump off and stand a little way off on his hind legs, chattering in alarm.

We dined early and went to the theatre. A play in fifteen acts was performed. Tedious by its prolixity, the language, unintelligible to me, made it still more wearisome. The music played in the orchestra was very beautiful; and the officer, who had behaved so politely to us in permitting the gates, on the first night of our arrival, to be opened, seated on a high stool, rose conspicuously above the other musicians, and seemed indeed the first fiddle. This is an act in no way derogatory to the dignity of an officer, or a gentleman; for, throughout our travels in Scandinavia, I often recognised in the orchestra of the different theatres I visited, officers whom I had met in the streets during the day. The interior decorations of the house were tawdry, and could not for an instant bear comparison with the simple adornment of the Haymarket theatre. The body of the theatre was not illuminated as in Southern Europe; but large green tin shades cover the lights toward the audience, and, all the reflection being thrown on the stage, the blaze of light on the performers is very great and effective. The house was much crowded; and, as at the casino, the King, the Queen, and the Princess Louise were part of [Pg 125]the audience, and conversed familiarly with different people about them.

We had an early dinner and then went to the theater. They performed a play in fifteen acts. It was tedious due to its length, and the language was hard for me to understand, making it even more exhausting. The music played by the orchestra was beautiful; the officer who had kindly allowed us in on our first night sat on a high stool and stood out among the other musicians. He truly seemed to be the first fiddle. This is in no way inappropriate for an officer or a gentleman; throughout our travels in Scandinavia, I often recognized officers in the orchestras at different theaters who I had met on the streets during the day. The theater's interior decorations were tacky and couldn't compare to the simple decor of the Haymarket theater. The main area of the theater wasn't lit up like in Southern Europe; instead, large green tin shades covered the lights facing the audience, and all the light was reflected onto the stage, creating a very bright and dramatic effect for the performers. The place was quite crowded, and, just like at the casino, the King, the Queen, and Princess Louise were part of [Pg 125]the audience, mingling casually with various people around them.

The theatres are entirely supported by the Government, and the actors and actresses receive their salaries from the same quarter. Whether this be a system which works well in Copenhagen, I have had no opportunity of knowing; but I should fancy it would be more beneficial to the Government, to the players, and the public, that individual labour, or ability, should seek and find its own remuneration; for I do not believe it is in the power of any Government to discriminate properly, and reward the services of a particular class of the community. I do not think I am at fault when I say, that England has produced more great men, eminent in every department of the professions, politics, and trade, than any other nation of the earth; and this superiority of mental, intellectual, and physical greatness, is to be ascribed to that timidity which the English Government manifests at all times to interfere with individual exertions or collective industry.

The theaters are fully funded by the government, and the actors receive their salaries from the same source. I haven’t had the chance to see how well this system works in Copenhagen, but I imagine it would be better for the government, the performers, and the public if individuals could pursue and secure their own pay. I don’t think any government can accurately assess and reward the contributions of a specific group in society. I believe it's fair to say that England has produced more great individuals, outstanding in all areas of professions, politics, and commerce than any other nation. This superiority in mental, intellectual, and physical excellence can be attributed to the hesitance of the English government to interfere with individual efforts or collective labor.

To-day was our last day at Copenhagen, and the crew seemed determined to make it the gayest. At early dawn, floating from the mast head to the bowsprit end, then down again to the boom-end, even to the water; and from the cross-trees along both back-stays, every flag and pennant on board the yacht might have been seen.

Today was our last day in Copenhagen, and the crew was set on making it the most fun. At early dawn, you could see every flag and pennant on the yacht flying, from the masthead to the bowsprit, then down to the boom-end, and even to the water; along with the cross-trees and both back-stays.

[Pg 126]"There's not a prettier craft in Denmark," I heard one man say, as he sat in the boat, hauled up close to the port-hole of the cabin, where I was dressing, "and I don't know as how there's a drier thing in a gale."

[Pg 126]"There's no prettier boat in Denmark," I heard a guy say while sitting in the boat, pulled up next to the cabin's window where I was getting ready, "and I can't think of anything drier in a storm."

"No, nor I neither," replied another; "I'm blowed if it 'taint as good as a picture to look at her."

"No, me neither," replied another; "I swear it's not as good as a picture to look at her."

This short dialogue had scarcely been brought to a conclusion, when I heard some one in a raised tone of voice, as if at a distance from the cutter, ask if Lord R, or P, or I, was up, but being answered in the negative, the same person inquired what all the flags were flying for; and being told that it was R's birthday, all further interrogation ceased. It was the American Minister, who had rowed off to the yacht, to repeat his invitation. At 12 o'clock, the conviviality of the crew commenced; and as I sat down with R and P, near the binnacle, toast after toast could be heard unanimously proposed, and more unanimously drank. As the afternoon began to decline, their jollity began to rise, and ere the sun had set, the grog had risen high in their heads.

This short conversation had just wrapped up when I heard someone yelling from a distance, asking if Lord R, P, or I was awake. When they were told no, the same person wanted to know why all the flags were flying. After being informed it was R's birthday, all further questions stopped. It was the American Minister who had rowed out to the yacht to repeat his invitation. At noon, the crew's festivities began, and as I sat down with R and P near the binnacle, we could hear toast after toast being proposed and cheerfully drunk. As the afternoon wore on, their merriment increased, and by the time the sun set, they were feeling pretty tipsy from the grog.

"Here's to the Governor!" I could distinguish from a multitude of noises, which issued upwards from the forecastle; and then snatches of such Bacchanalian songs as,

"Here's to the Governor!" I could hear amid a crowd of sounds coming up from the front deck; and then snippets of wild party songs like,

"He's a jolly good fellow,
 He's a jolly good fellow,"

"He's an awesome guy,"
He's a good guy.

[Pg 127]interrupted the calm serenity of the coming evening.

[Pg 127]disrupted the peaceful calm of the approaching evening.

"Now then, 'order,' my lads," I heard D. shout aloud, "and let's drink the Governor's health, and long life to him!"

"Alright, everyone, 'order!'” I heard D. shout, “Now, let’s raise a glass to the Governor’s health and wish him a long life!”

"Hurrah!" replied eight or ten voices;—"Hurrah!"

"Hooray!" replied eight or ten voices;—"Hooray!"

"Where's Jacko?" was then the cry; "where is he? out with the young lubber, George—give him a glass."

"Where's Jacko?" was then the shout; "where is he? out with the young guy, George—pour him a drink."

"Ay, give him a glass;" echoed in answer.

"Yeah, give him a glass," came the reply.

"Time, my sons, time," shouted D., "attend to time. One—two—three; hip! hip! hip! hurra!—hurra!—hurra!—nine times nine, my sons; hip!"—and his voice was drowned in a perfect uproar. The next thing I heard was that Jacko, confused by the din of joviality, had decamped from the middle of the table where they had placed him, and broken his glass. In the midst of all this merriment, we were rowed ashore to keep our engagement with the American Minister; and, on reaching the land, about half a mile off, we could hear the whole yacht's company joining in the chorus, and Jerome's fiddle screaming the accompaniment, of

"Time, my sons, time," shouted D., "pay attention to time. One—two—three; hip! hip! hip! hooray!—hooray!—hooray!—nine times nine, my sons; hip!"—and his voice got lost in a complete uproar. The next thing I heard was that Jacko, overwhelmed by the noise of the celebration, had escaped from the middle of the table where they put him and broken his glass. In the midst of all this fun, we were rowed ashore to keep our appointment with the American Minister; and when we reached the land, about half a mile away, we could hear the whole yacht's crew joining in the chorus, with Jerome's fiddle screeching the accompaniment, of

"True blue for ever."

"True blue forever."

Our party at the American Minister's consisted of the Spanish Minister, the Baron de B——, R——, P——, Captain W——, Mr. A——, the nephew of Lord F——, a [Pg 128]gentleman farmer from Holstein, and myself. The dinner was an excellent one, and an improvement on the French system of cookery; and every fruit and wine which could be bought in Copenhagen were on the table. After we had dined, the American Minister rose, and drank the health of the Queen of England. P—— immediately replied, and proposed the President of the United States, and that also was drunk in a bumper. A pause now took place in the proposal and drinking of healths, and the conversation turned into a political current, and flowed towards the merits and demerits of Christian, King of Denmark. Public opinion was rather in opposition to the king, because he had shown himself reluctant to give the people that limit of reform which they asked.

Our party at the American Minister's included the Spanish Minister, the Baron de B——, R——, P——, Captain W——, Mr. A——, the nephew of Lord F——, a [Pg 128]gentleman farmer from Holstein, and me. The dinner was fantastic, an improvement over the French cooking style, and every fruit and wine available in Copenhagen was on the table. After we finished eating, the American Minister stood up and toasted the Queen of England. P—— quickly responded by proposing a toast to the President of the United States, which was also done heartily. There was a moment of silence after the toasts, and the conversation shifted toward politics, discussing the pros and cons of Christian, King of Denmark. Public opinion seemed to be against the king because he had been reluctant to grant the people the level of reform they were seeking.

"Well," exclaimed Captain W——, who, though a boisterous, was an amiable man, "I have not the honour of knowing King Christian; but I believe him a good fellow."

"Well," shouted Captain W——, who, despite being loud, was a friendly guy, "I don’t have the honor of knowing King Christian, but I think he’s a good guy."

"Bravo! bravo!" and the Baron de B—— touched the table gently with his hand.

"Bravo! Bravo!" and the Baron de B—— lightly tapped the table with his hand.

"And I believe," continued Captain W——, "any reluctance he may show in acceding to popular opinion is for the ultimate benefit of the country."

"And I believe," continued Captain W——, "any hesitation he might have in going along with public opinion is for the greater good of the country."

"Good, good," said the Baron de B——, and tapped his wine glass with a small salt spoon.

"Good, good," said the Baron de B——, and tapped his wine glass with a tiny salt spoon.

"And he is partial to the English," added [Pg 129]the American Minister, looking towards our end of the table, "therefore he can't fail to have some liberality of soul."

"And he favors the English," added [Pg 129] the American Minister, looking towards our side of the table, "so he must have some generosity of spirit."

"The Danes have always been our old allies," said P——, "and I drink with sincerity to the health of Christian, King of Denmark, and long may he be so!"

"The Danes have always been our longtime allies," said P——, "and I genuinely toast to the health of Christian, King of Denmark, and may he reign for a long time!"

P—— rose from his seat as he spoke, and held a brimming glass above his head. The whole company followed his example, and with a round of "hurrahs," quaffed to the personal welfare of the aged monarch in whose dominions we had been enjoying ourselves for the last week. The Holstein gentleman, having learned from the Baron de B—— what P—— had said, walked round the table, and, cordially shaking hands with us, said something in Danish which we did not understand, but at the conclusion of every sentence, each one, except ourselves, exclaimed "Hear, hear;" and so I am led to conclude it was complimentary. The Baron de B—— thanked us in English for the kind feeling we had shown in drinking the health of his sovereign, and which he appreciated the more, because it came from an Englishman. He drank to P——, and, of course, all present joined in the toast.

P—— got up from his seat as he spoke and held a full glass up high. Everyone else followed his lead, and with a round of "hurrahs," they toasted to the personal wellbeing of the old king under whose rule we had been enjoying ourselves for the past week. The gentleman from Holstein, having learned from Baron de B—— what P—— had said, walked around the table, shook hands with us warmly, and said something in Danish that we didn’t understand, but at the end of each sentence, everyone except us shouted "Hear, hear;" so I assume it was a compliment. Baron de B—— thanked us in English for the kind sentiment we had shown by toasting the health of his monarch, and he appreciated it even more because it came from an Englishman. He raised a glass to P——, and of course, everyone present joined in the toast.

"My Lord," said the American Minister, addressing himself to R——, "I saw your yacht to-day, looking pretty—excessively—among the other vessels which lay in the [Pg 130]harbour; and, from her mast-head to the surface of the sea, I also saw streamers resting their full length on the air. This must be a day of jubilee, and one, no doubt, replete with good fortune to you, or your two friends; and my guests are desirous, and I am too, of noting this day with white chalk. If I be not exceeding the bounds of curiosity, and, in a moment of conviviality, the conventionalities of society, may I ask the reason of so much festivity?"

“My Lord,” said the American Minister, addressing R——, “I saw your yacht today, looking great—really great—among the other vessels in the [Pg 130]harbour; and from her mast-head to the surface of the sea, I also saw streamers waving in the air. This must be a day of celebration, and surely it brings good luck to you or your two friends; my guests and I also want to mark this day with some celebration. If I’m not being too nosy, and if it’s not against the usual social norms, can I ask what’s behind all this festivity?”

"Oh! nothing," replied R——, laughing carelessly; "I suppose my sailing-master has merely hoisted the signals to give them an airing."

"Oh! nothing," replied R——, laughing casually; "I guess my sailing teacher just raised the flags to let them flutter a bit."

"That won't do, my Lord. Now, gentlemen," exclaimed the American Minister, "I am not accredited minister to Denmark, without by secret sources receiving information of all that passes in Copenhagen. Lord R——, gentlemen, has done me the honour of dining with me on his birthday."

"That won't work, my Lord. Now, gentlemen," said the American Minister, "I'm not the accredited minister to Denmark without getting information through secret channels about everything happening in Copenhagen. Lord R——, gentlemen, has honored me by dining with me on his birthday."

This rather staggered R——, for he had no idea the American Minister knew anything about the matter; and it was the last circumstance he would have wished the company to know.

This really surprised R——, because he had no idea the American Minister knew anything about it; and it was the last thing he would have wanted the group to find out.

"Therefore," continued the American Minister, "I beg to propose Lord R——'s health with all the honours."

"Therefore," continued the American Minister, "I’d like to propose a toast to Lord R——'s health with all the honors."

"With all the honours," reiterated Captain W——.

"With all the honors," repeated Captain W——.

[Pg 131]Of course the clatter of glasses, the rapping of knuckles, the bravos, and hears, are nothing more on all similar occasions than the reverberations of such an appeal. Captain W—— mounted on his chair.

[Pg 131]Of course, the sound of clinking glasses, the tapping of knuckles, the cheers, and the applause are just echoes of that same request. Captain W—— stood up on his chair.

"Come down, W——," said Mr. A——.

"Come down, W——," said Mr. A——.

"Not a bit," answered Captain W——. "Let me alone. I'm all right." The Captain was elevated, and would remain so.

"Not at all," replied Captain W——. "Just leave me be. I'm fine." The Captain was in high spirits, and he would stay that way.

"I beg, with the permission of his Excellency," continued Mr. A——, "to suggest an amendment,—the health of Lord R——, and his two friends."

"I kindly ask, with your permission, his Excellency," continued Mr. A——, "to propose a toast,—to the health of Lord R——, and his two friends."

"My health has been drunk already," observed P——.

"My health has already been consumed," observed P——.

"Never mind. Bravo!" said Captain W——, from his point of elevation, and, stooping down, he rapped the table. "Lord R—— and his two friends—good idea!"

"Never mind. Well done!" said Captain W——, from his elevated position, and, leaning down, he tapped the table. "Lord R—— and his two friends—great idea!"

"It was my intention to have them one by one," said the American Minister.

"It was my plan to have them individually," said the American Minister.

"No, no;" interrupted Captain W——. "All together—three jolly chaps."

"No, no," interrupted Captain W——. "All together—three fun guys."

"Just as you like," answered the American Minister.

"Whatever you prefer," replied the American Minister.

"Yes. We'll have two girls afterwards, instead," replied Captain W——.

"Yeah. We'll have two girls instead, after that," replied Captain W——.

"As you are so conspicuous, then," said the American Minister to Captain W——, "perhaps you had better do the toast with honours."

"As you're so noticeable, then," said the American Minister to Captain W——, "maybe you should give the toast with honors."

"To be sure," replied Captain W——, [Pg 132]"nine times nine, and one over for a fair breeze. Gentlemen! are you charged?"

"Sure," replied Captain W——, [Pg 132]"nine times nine, and one extra for a good breeze. Gentlemen! are you ready?"

"Yes, yes, yes," came from all quarters.

"Yes, yes, yes," came from everywhere.

"Well, then, gentlemen," continued Captain W——, "reserve your fire, till I give the word.—Now!" and, with all the hubbub of a toast, our united healths were drunk. R—— was called upon to return thanks, which he did; and another jingling of spoons, forks, and finger-basins, rose in reply. The gentleman-farmer from Holstein now commenced a speech, which none of us, but the Baron de B——, thoroughly understood; but it evidently alluded to our three selves, for he often turned, and, looking in our faces, delivered whole sentences without wincing. The Holsteiner was much applauded. Captain W—— having come down to our level, now offered to sing a song; and he dashed headlong into a pretty air, which had an eternal chorus of

"Alright, gentlemen," Captain W—— continued, "hold your fire until I say so.—Now!" And with all the excitement of a toast, we all raised our glasses to toast our health. R—— was asked to say a few words of thanks, which he did, and we heard another clinking of spoons, forks, and finger bowls in response. The gentleman farmer from Holstein then started a speech that none of us, except for Baron de B——, really understood, but it clearly referred to the three of us, as he frequently turned to look at our faces and spoke whole sentences without hesitation. The Holsteiner received a lot of applause. Captain W——, having come down to our level, then offered to sing a song, and he jumped right into a catchy tune with a never-ending chorus of

"Trik-a-trik, trik,"

"Click-clack, click,"

or some such monotonous burden at every sixth word. The gallant Captain had executed but a small portion of his ditty, when the Holstein farmer rose quickly from his chair, and addressed the songster at the moment when he had reiterated for the second time,

or some such boring weight at every sixth word. The brave Captain had performed only a small part of his song when the Holstein farmer quickly got up from his chair and spoke to the singer just as he repeated the line for the second time,

"Trik-a-trik, trik."

"Trick or treat."

"I don't care," replied Captain W——, who knew the Danish language slightly; "it [Pg 133]means nothing. My friends here have never heard the air, and that is the reason I sing it."

"I don't care," replied Captain W——, who had a little knowledge of Danish; "it [Pg 133] means nothing. My friends here have never heard the tune, and that's why I'm singing it."

The Holsteiner still resisted. What could the matter be? The farmer must be, I thought, a married man, and the song an immoral one. The Captain made a second attempt with another song, and the Holsteiner resisted a second time. What could the matter now be? Why, that the farmer was a loyal subject, and a strenuous supporter of monarchy, and that Captain W—— had pitched, at last, upon a revolutionary song, which had been prohibited.

The Holsteiner still resisted. What could be the issue? I figured the farmer must be married, and the song was inappropriate. The Captain tried again with another song, but the Holsteiner resisted once more. What could be the problem now? It turned out the farmer was a loyal subject and a strong supporter of the monarchy, and Captain W—— had finally picked a revolutionary song that was banned.

"It is so absurdly radical," said the American Minister, "that it carries with it its own antidote. I am sure there can arise no harm from Captain W—— singing it to our English friends, who are monarchy men sufficiently staunch to disallow any defection from royalty."

"It’s completely outrageous," said the American Minister, "that it brings its own solution. I’m sure nothing bad will come from Captain W—— singing it to our English friends, who are strong supporters of the monarchy and wouldn’t accept any disloyalty to royalty."

"Yes," replied the Baron de B——; "it is not for ourselves my friend from Holstein feels alarmed; but for those who attend upon us, and who, knowing us, may disseminate reports prejudicial to our position. God knows, my Sovereign has no truer subject than myself."

"Yes," replied Baron de B——; "it's not for ourselves that my friend from Holstein feels worried; it's for those around us, who, knowing us, might spread rumors that could harm our reputation. God knows, my Sovereign has no more loyal subject than I do."

"Perhaps it is better," admitted the American Minister, "that the song should not be sung, W——. King Christian possesses no heart more loyal than my noble friend's," [Pg 134]and he took the hand of the Baron de B——, who sat close to him, and shook it.

"Maybe it's for the best," the American Minister conceded, "that the song doesn't get sung, W——. King Christian doesn't have a heart more loyal than my noble friend's," [Pg 134] and he took the hand of Baron de B——, who was sitting next to him, and shook it.

"A stone," exclaimed Captain W——, "thrown into a brook dams it not, but swells the current only to make it run swifter. What will you have?

"A stone," exclaimed Captain W——, "thrown into a stream doesn't stop it, but instead makes it run faster. What do you want?"

"Min skaal og din skaal,
 Alla vackra flickors skaal;"

"My cup and your mug,
All the gorgeous girls' cup;

and chanting these two lines of a Swedish drinking-song, he threw himself back in his chair, and emptied his overflowing glass. The party now began to get extremely merry; and from claret we turned to port, and, by imperceptible degrees, descended to punch. The smoke of our cigars soon accumulated in a dense mass, and, ascending to the ceiling of the room, hung like a canopy of clouds over our heads; and Satan would have envied the hot atmosphere which we now breathed and caroused in. We were all pretty well elated; and as the wine warmed Captain W——'s heart and feelings, he sang the sweetest Swedish song I shall ever hear again. The melodious air, the sweet silvery reiteration of the words, the language with its soft idioms, and the poetical beauty and liveliness of the song itself, were a combination of harmony I could never have anticipated. It would be useless endeavouring to embody "the viewless spirit" of those lovely sounds; but as the words were then translated to me, so I write them here:—

and singing these two lines from a Swedish drinking song, he leaned back in his chair and drained his overflowing glass. The party got really lively; we switched from claret to port and, almost without noticing, moved on to punch. The smoke from our cigars quickly built up into a thick cloud that rose to the ceiling and hung over us like a canopy; even Satan would have envied the warm atmosphere we were now enjoying and celebrating in. We were all feeling pretty good, and as the wine warmed Captain W——'s heart and mood, he sang the sweetest Swedish song I will probably never hear again. The melodic tune, the soft repetition of the words, the gentle language with its tender expressions, and the beautiful and lively nature of the song itself created a harmony I could never have imagined. It would be pointless to try to capture "the invisible spirit" of those lovely sounds; but as the words were translated to me at that moment, I write them here:—

"The happy hours,
[Pg 135] Amid the flowers,
Familiar to the Spring's warm breast;
When memory burneth,
And the soul returneth,
Day dreaming, to its own unrest.
I know of looks, to me more sweet and clear,
Than Light's glad beam, than heaven's own blue,
The Spring's soft breath, the flower's bright hue;
None so true,
As his I cherish here,
Whose image is so dear.
Will he love, and love me duly?
Fairy flowers, tell me truly.
What shall be my lot hereafter?
Shall it end in sighs, or laughter?
Pull them lightly!
Count them rightly!
Yes! No! Yes! No! Yes! No! Yes!
Counted rightly."

"The happy moments,"
[Pg 135] Among the flowers,
Familiar with Spring's warm vibes;
When memories fade,
And the soul comes back,
Daydreaming, causing its own turmoil.
I know of appearances that are sweeter and clearer to me,
Than the joyful rays of light, than the sky’s own blue,
The soft breeze of spring and the vibrant colors of the flowers;
None so real,
As I hold dear,
Whose image is so valuable?
Will he love me, and love me genuinely?
Fairy flowers, be honest with me.
What will my future hold?
Will it end in sighs or laughter?
Pick them carefully!
Count them accurately!
Yes! No! Yes! No! Yes! No! Yes!
"Counted correctly."

Captain W—— received much applause, but no more than his song deserved. After awhile, I observed to the American Minister, that we had drunk the health of nearly every one present except the Baron de B——, and with his permission I would suggest that we toasted him. The hint was no sooner given than it was adopted.

Captain W—— received a lot of praise, but nothing more than his song deserved. After a while, I pointed out to the American Minister that we had toasted nearly everyone there except for Baron de B——, and with his permission, I would like to suggest that we toast him. The moment I mentioned it, everyone agreed.

The probable separation of Holstein and Schleswig from Denmark, then became the subject of discussion during the remainder of the evening; and, indeed, this was the topic common in the mouths of all men whom we met in Copenhagen.

The likely separation of Holstein and Schleswig from Denmark became the main topic of conversation for the rest of the evening; in fact, it was the subject everyone we encountered in Copenhagen was discussing.

"It is impossible to foresee the decrees of Time," said the Baron de B——, "and tell what may, or may not befall this country; but [Pg 136]all I hope, is, that my present sovereign may live for many long years to come, his life being a guarantee of peace to Denmark, and his death the beginning of disaffection."

"It’s impossible to predict what Time will bring," said the Baron de B——, "and to know what might happen to this country; but [Pg 136] all I hope for is that my current ruler will live for many more years, as his life ensures peace for Denmark, and his death would signal the start of unrest."

"Do you think, Baron," observed Mr. A——, "that the people of Holstein and Schleswig are so much opposed to the rule of Denmark?"

"Do you think, Baron," said Mr. A——, "that the people of Holstein and Schleswig are really against the rule of Denmark?"

"No," replied the Baron de B——, "I am not at liberty to say that is the general feeling of Holstein and Schleswig; for I am one among a thousand who hold, that the disunion of Holstein and Schleswig from the Parent Kingdom, would be fatal to the well-being of both, but more particularly to Denmark; for I do not doubt, but that when Holstein and Schleswig are lopped off from Denmark, some other State, like Prussia, for instance, will take the duchies under its protection, and join them ultimately to its dominions; but such a result could never happen to Denmark, and she must sink into utter insignificance as a European Power."

"No," replied Baron de B——, "I can't say that reflects the general feeling of Holstein and Schleswig; I’m one of the few who believe that separating Holstein and Schleswig from the mother country would be disastrous for both, but especially for Denmark. I have no doubt that once Holstein and Schleswig are cut off from Denmark, some other state, like Prussia, for example, will take the duchies under its wing and eventually incorporate them into its territory. But such a scenario could never happen for Denmark, and it would inevitably fade into complete insignificance as a European power."

"Why, my dear Baron," said the American Minister, "is not care taken that these evils should not occur to Denmark? If you do not mind yourselves, you may rest satisfied no State in Europe will trouble itself about you."

"Why, my dear Baron," said the American Minister, "isn't there any effort to prevent these problems from happening to Denmark? If you don’t take care of yourselves, you can be sure no country in Europe will bother with you."

"The fact is this," answered the Baron de B——, "the present ministers have not the moral courage, or mental ability to meet the [Pg 137]difficulties of the approaching crisis. When Christian dies, you may say the existing dynasty of Denmark dies too; and I do not think the Duke of Augustenburg will listen to an alteration in the law of succession to these realms, prejudicial to his interest in Holstein, at the coronation of Prince Frederick. If Denmark desires to retain Holstein and Schleswig, she must show her determination now. The same trumpet that announces the decease of Christian, will sound the proclamation of civil contention."

"The reality is this," replied Baron de B——, "the current ministers lack the moral courage and mental capability to handle the [Pg 137]challenges of the upcoming crisis. When Christian dies, you could say that the current dynasty of Denmark dies with him; and I don’t believe the Duke of Augustenburg will agree to any changes in the succession laws that would harm his interests in Holstein during Prince Frederick’s coronation. If Denmark wants to keep Holstein and Schleswig, she must demonstrate her resolve now. The same trumpet that announces Christian’s death will trigger the start of civil conflict."

"Will England stand aloof," observed Captain W——, "and see Denmark mutilated? I think not."

"Will England just stand back," remarked Captain W——, "and watch Denmark get destroyed? I don’t think so."

"I hope not," said the Baron de B——; "but as years roll on, who can divine the political condition of any country. My Lord," continued the Baron de B——, turning and addressing himself more exclusively to R——, "you have, by hereditary right, a voice in the legislative community of your country, and if ever you should hear that Denmark is threatened with the loss of her dependencies, maintain her in her right; remember the position of England without the aid and protection in the West, however ill given, of Ireland; and, calling to mind the words of myself, an old Holstein noble, be assured, that the apathetic indifference of England to the dismemberment of this kingdom, her old ally, will destroy, only for a time, the balance of power in [Pg 138]Northern Europe, but will entail on future generations the misery of restoring by the sword, what can now be done with the pen, the independence of the Danish Crown."

"I hope not," said the Baron de B——; "but as time passes, who can predict the political situation of any country? My Lord," the Baron de B—— continued, focusing more on R——, "you have a hereditary right to participate in your country's legislative body. If you ever hear that Denmark is at risk of losing its territories, stand up for her rights; remember England's condition without the support, however inadequate, of Ireland. And keep in mind the words of me, an old Holstein noble: be certain that England's indifferent attitude towards the dismemberment of this kingdom, her former ally, will temporarily upset the balance of power in [Pg 138]Northern Europe and will bring future generations the hardship of restoring by force what can currently be achieved through diplomacy—the independence of the Danish Crown."

"I do not wish, Baron," I said, "to interfere with the opinion you entertain of the intellectual refinement of men, and their inclination to have their quarrels arranged rather by the silent aid of the pen, than the roar of cannon; but of this I am convinced, that, the more enlightened the human race appear to become, the more frequently submission and order seem to be appalled by a total disregard of many social institutions. That day is distant indeed, when the legislators of two disaffected countries will sit down and calm their differences by philosophic deliberation."

"I don't want, Baron," I said, "to challenge your views on the intellectual sophistication of people and their tendency to settle disputes more through quiet discussion than through the roar of cannon. However, I am convinced that as humanity seems to become more enlightened, submission and order are increasingly threatened by a complete disregard for various social institutions. The day when lawmakers from two feuding nations will sit down and resolve their differences through thoughtful debate is still a long way off."

"I do not quite agree with you," answered the American Minister; "but, I still think, that the irritability of human nature will overcome reason, and so, in anger, men seize the sabre while they throw down the pen; but that is only temporary. 'Ira furor brevis est.'"

"I don't fully agree with you," replied the American Minister, "but I still believe that human irritability will overpower reason, and in moments of anger, people grab the sword while discarding the pen; however, that's just a temporary state. 'Ira furor brevis est.'"

"A great deal of mischief may be done in a short time," I replied. "I do not, however, wish your Excellency to take all hope from the Baron de B——, but the separation of Holstein and Schleswig from this country will scarcely be opposed by England, and, if the interference of England should be tendered, the other Powers will hardly permit it [Pg 139]to be accepted in quietude. I am no prophet, but however much Europe may boast of her intellectual advancement, and point, as she may, to her sons of mind, the innate love of destruction is so clearly marked on the character of mankind, that, at any, the least provocation, war may trample again on liberty and peace with all the increased malice and horror of the Bonaparte dynasty."

"A lot of trouble can happen in a short time," I said. "However, I don’t want your Excellency to take all hope away from Baron de B——, but the separation of Holstein and Schleswig from this country will likely not be opposed by England, and if England does decide to interfere, the other Powers will hardly allow it [Pg 139] to happen quietly. I’m no prophet, but no matter how much Europe boasts about its intellectual progress and highlights its intellectuals, the deep-seated desire for destruction is so clearly part of human nature that at the slightest provocation, war can once again trample on liberty and peace with all the increased malice and horror of the Bonaparte dynasty."

Not many of the company would support me, but thought better of their kind. I am now pleased that I then stood alone; for recent events have shown how, in the midst of the most intellectual era since the world's formation, glittering not only with the fruit of man's mental garden, but beautified by the miracles of his manual skill, the total subversion of conventional and political order is severely menaced; and how doubtful the contest is between the earnest endeavour of one faith to overcome every tenet of another, and the outrages of vulgar audacity to supersede noble sentiment and refinement of manner.

Not many in the company supported me, but I thought better of their kindness. I’m now glad that I stood alone back then; recent events have shown how, even in the most intellectual era since the world began, shining not only with the achievements of human thought but also enhanced by the wonders of craftsmanship, the complete breakdown of conventional and political order is seriously threatened. It’s uncertain whether the genuine efforts of one belief system can overcome the principles of another, or if the abuses of blatant boldness can replace refined sentiment and grace.

We did not part until much past midnight, and I shall not forget that last night at Copenhagen for many a long day; and for the time which is to come I shall ever, lingeringly, look back with memory on the glad faces which endear the happiness of that evening.

We didn’t say goodbye until well after midnight, and I won’t forget that last night in Copenhagen for a long time; even in the future, I will always fondly remember the happy faces that bring joy to that evening.







CHAPTER VIII.

THE EXILE'S SOUVENIR—THE DISAPPOINTED ARTIST—DEPARTURE FROM COPENHAGEN—ARRIVAL AT ELSINEUR—DESCRIPTION OF THE TOWN—THE CASTLE OF CRONENBORG—HAMLET'S GARDEN—ESROM LAKE—THE LEGEND OF ESROM MONASTERY—THE FRENCH WAR-STEAMER—SAILING UP THE CATTEGAT.

THE EXILE'S SOUVENIR—THE DISAPPOINTED ARTIST—LEAVING COPENHAGEN—ARRIVING AT ELSINEUR—DESCRIPTION OF THE TOWN—CRONENBORG CASTLE—HAMLET'S GARDEN—ESROM LAKE—THE LEGEND OF ESROM MONASTERY—THE FRENCH WARSHIP—SAILING UP THE CATTEGAT.


I rose early on the following morning, and went ashore with R——, who desired to purchase some cherry cordial, rum and brandy, since this was the last city of any importance we should visit, before our arrival at Christiania, or Bergen.

I got up early the next morning and went ashore with R——, who wanted to buy some cherry cordial, rum, and brandy, since this was the last significant city we would visit before reaching Christiania or Bergen.

The first object which attracted our attention when we returned on board, was a large nosegay, of sweet colour and perfume, in a jar of water, standing in the centre of the cabin table; and a small note directed, to us, lay by its side. When opened, the note read thus:—

The first thing that caught our eye when we got back on board was a big bouquet of colorful and fragrant flowers in a jar of water, sitting right in the middle of the cabin table; and there was a small note addressed to us next to it. When we opened the note, it read:—

"A poor, but proud countryman, begs that you will accept this trifling present, as it is the only one within his means of offering; and, when you are again in England, think sometimes of an outcast."

"A poor but proud farmer asks that you accept this small gift, as it is the only thing he can offer; and when you are back in England, please remember an outcast from time to time."

It had no signature; but the hand-writing was Mr. C——'s. A large boat was seen putting off from the shore, and we hoped that it [Pg 141]was Mr. C——; for R—— was always happy to see him on board his vessel, however much he might have objected to his companionship in the streets. As the boat approached, we saw that it was not Mr. C——, but our old friend the gentleman in spectacles, who had, unhappily, selected this morning to sketch the yacht; and in ignorance of our intended departure, had evidently hired a good-sized boat for the day, and brought all the necessary appendages of his art. In a few seconds we slipped our moorings, and jib, foresail, and gaff-topsail were hauled out to the wind, and the main tack dropped, sooner than I have written it.

It had no signature, but the handwriting was definitely Mr. C——'s. A large boat was seen leaving the shore, and we hoped that it [Pg 141]was Mr. C——; R—— was always glad to see him on board his vessel, even if he had reservations about sharing the streets with him. As the boat got closer, we realized it wasn't Mr. C——, but our old friend the guy in spectacles, who had, unfortunately, chosen this morning to sketch the yacht; and totally unaware of our planned departure, had clearly rented a decent-sized boat for the day and brought along all his art supplies. In just a few seconds, we untied our moorings, and jib, foresail, and gaff-topsail were set to catch the wind, and the main tack dropped, quicker than I just wrote it.

"Vare de skepp go?" I heard the artist exclaim to the boatman; "det blăser hărdt—de vind blow hard—moin Gud! vare de skepp go?"

"Where are the ships going?" I heard the artist shout to the boatman; "it's blowing hard—my God! Where are the ships going?"

We were soon out of hearing; but we could still see the mute astonishment of the disappointed Swede, as he stood bolt upright, a pencil in one hand, and a large drawing-book in the other.

We soon couldn't hear them anymore, but we could still see the silent shock on the disappointed Swede's face as he stood straight up, holding a pencil in one hand and a large sketchbook in the other.

Like a wild horse, startled, would fly over the plains of Pampas, and hurl with sounding hooves the turf behind him, our little bark darted through the water, and, envious of her freedom, crushed and tossed each resisting wave into foam, and a thousand bubbles. As we hauled closer to the wind, and hugged the tongue of land which forms the most easterly point of the citadel of Fredrikshavn, we [Pg 142]discerned, leaning against the flag-staff, poor old C——. He held a handkerchief in his hand, but waved it not; yet it would be raised slowly to his face, and fall heavily to his side again; and, after we had proceeded two miles out to sea, with the aid of a telescope, we could still trace his form resting in the same place and position, and his eyes still turned towards us.

Like a startled wild horse racing across the Pampas, our little boat shot through the water, kicking up a spray of foam and bubbles as it smashed through each wave in defiance of its freedom. As we sailed closer to the wind and followed the narrow strip of land that marks the eastern point of the citadel of Fredrikshavn, we [Pg 142] spotted poor old C—— leaning against the flagpole. He held a handkerchief but didn’t wave it; instead, it would slowly rise to his face before dropping heavily to his side again. Even after we had traveled two miles out to sea, we could still see his figure in the same spot, with his eyes still focused on us through a telescope.

When we drew further from the shore, the wind increased, and the gaff-topsail was unbent, and a reef taken in the mainsail. We were soon a second time anchored off Elsineur; and, as the sun declined from the meridian, the wind almost lulled to a calm. We went ashore; and although, on our arrival at the pier-head, the sentinels and police did not speak to us, or demand our passports, they walked round and viewed us, as a man would observe the points of a horse before he purchased it.

When we moved further away from the shore, the wind picked up, so we took down the gaff-topsail and reefed the mainsail. We soon dropped anchor again off Elsineur; and as the sun started to set, the wind nearly died down to a calm. We went ashore, and even though the guards and police at the pier didn't talk to us or ask for our passports, they circled around us, like a man inspecting a horse before buying it.

Elsineur appeared to me a more bustling town than Copenhagen itself; and I suppose that arises from the number of sailors connected with the vessels in the roadstead, who are to be met in the narrow lanes and alleys of the town; and here all the pilots in Denmark mostly wait for ships bound up the Baltic.

Elsinore seemed like a busier town than Copenhagen itself; I think this is because of the many sailors associated with the ships in the harbor, who can be found in the narrow streets and alleys of the town. Here, all the pilots in Denmark usually wait for ships heading up the Baltic.

Over the door of every third house, generally swings a sign-board, villainously painted, and exhibiting, in emblematical form to the [Pg 143]stranger's eye, the proprietor's name, and the nature of the goods which may be bought of him. The streets are very long and confined; and herds of fishwomen, dogs, and children, get in your way and under your feet. Elsineur is the Wapping of Denmark, or comparable to the worst parts of Portsmouth.

Over the door of every third house usually hangs a sign, poorly painted, showing the owner's name and the types of goods that can be bought there in a symbolic way to any stranger. The streets are long and narrow, and groups of fish vendors, dogs, and children block your path and trip you up. Elsineur is like the Wapping of Denmark or similar to the roughest areas of Portsmouth.

We walked through the town to the Castle of Cronenborg. After wandering over drawbridges, through archways, and dark tunnels, we found ourselves in the middle of a courtyard, surrounded on all sides by the solitary walls of the seemingly deserted castle. We rang a bell several times, and could just hear its noisy clatter, stealing through narrow, longitudinal slits of windows at the top of an old tower; and, after repeating the summons several times, without waiting, we walked away as we had entered this famous citadel. From the ramparts we enjoyed a magnificent view of the Sound, and the coast of Sweden.

We walked through the town to Cronenborg Castle. After roaming over drawbridges, through archways, and dark tunnels, we found ourselves in the middle of a courtyard, surrounded on all sides by the lonely walls of the seemingly abandoned castle. We rang a bell several times and could barely hear its noisy clatter coming through the narrow, vertical slits in the windows at the top of an old tower; after repeating the call a few times, and without waiting, we walked away just like we had entered this famous fortress. From the ramparts, we enjoyed a stunning view of the Sound and the coast of Sweden.

In Hamlet's garden, about a mile from the castle, across a dreary common, the willow-sheltered tomb is still to be seen, where, it is said, sleeps that Spirit "the potent poison quite" o'ercrew. A house stands, tenantless, in the centre of this garden, protected at the back from the north wind by a bank, on which spring here and there flowers and weeds entwined; while its front, turned to the south's warm breath, is enlivened by a few statues, [Pg 144]round the pedestals of which creep the vine and honey-suckle. Though the footfall of time is scarcely heard on the soft moss, which oozes in patches from the broad terrace where princes trod, the hand of desolation seemed to be busy here; and as I looked around me, and observed how each relic of antiquity was crumbling into dust, the oblivion of every thing connected with man, except the monuments of his intellect, crawled coldly, like a slug, over my senses, and apart from all visible objects, I felt, and saw with the mind's eye, the immortality of poetry only in the air which I breathed.

In Hamlet's garden, about a mile from the castle, across a bleak common, the willow-shaded tomb can still be seen, where, it’s said, lies the spirit that was overrun by “the potent poison.” In the center of this garden stands an empty house, sheltered at the back from the north wind by a bank where flowers and weeds twist together. Its front faces the warm southern breeze, brightened by a few statues, [Pg 144]around the bases of which vines and honeysuckle climb. Although you can barely hear the passage of time on the soft moss that patches the wide terrace where princes once walked, the touch of desolation seemed to be at work here. As I looked around and noticed how every piece of history was crumbling away, the cold oblivion of everything connected to humanity, except for the monuments of intellect, crept over me slowly, and apart from all visible things, I felt and saw with my mind's eye the immortality of poetry only in the air I breathed.

Not far from Elsineur is Esrom. Near the Castle of Fredensborg, a boat-house, on Esrom Lake, may be seen by the traveller; and there it was, on this calm summer evening, I lay down upon the grass, looking on hill, wood, dale, and water. The still air, the unrippled surface of the lake, the tops of the trees, which form the vast and majestic avenues leading to the castle, appearing to melt into the blue sky, were so imposing, that the spirit of melancholy, not unpleasing, descended on me; and leaping from scene to scene, and from one epoch of my life to another, I found myself a boy again, and the heart, like a bended bow, returning to its full length, sprung swifter to the thoughts of home; and I could not help muttering aloud these verses to myself:

Not far from Elsineur is Esrom. Near the Castle of Fredensborg, travelers can see a boathouse by Esrom Lake; it was here, on this calm summer evening, that I lay down on the grass, gazing at the hills, woods, valleys, and water. The still air, the smooth surface of the lake, and the treetops forming the grand avenues leading to the castle, blending into the blue sky, were so impressive that a pleasant sense of melancholy washed over me. As I moved from scene to scene and from one period of my life to another, I felt like a boy again, and my heart, like a bent bow, returned to its full shape, quickly springing back to thoughts of home. I couldn't help but mutter these lines to myself:

"There was a time, and I remember it clearly,
[Pg 145] When my entire body was just a yard tall;
Oh! When I think of that, my eyes fill with warm tears,
And so I take pleasure in the memory.
"I enjoyed the warm hugs of my mother,
And climbed onto my grandfather's old knee;
Care, anger, and the signs of sorrow were unknown: To me, the world was as blessed as it could be.
"I didn't notice any frowns on the smooth surface of the world,
Its vastness appeared small to me; I saw the stars, twinkling like sparks in the distance, And wished I were a bird to fly so high.
"I saw the moon setting behind the hills,
And thought all the while, "Oh! I wish I were there!"
Then my eye could look closely, without getting tired,
That bright thing, how big, how round, how beautiful.
"While I was wondering, I saw the Son of God leave,
To sleep in the golden arms of Evening; And, from the East again, beauty shines bright,
To bathe the entire sky in red.
"I reflected on Him, the all-giving Father,
Who created me, and that silver orb up high,
And all the small stars that glow every night, Adorned like a string of pearls, the blue sky.
"To Him, with childlike devotion, I hesitated
The prayer my loving mother taught me:
"Oh! gracious God! let my goal remain unchanged
Still to be wise and good, and follow You!
"I prayed for her, and for my father as well,
My dear sisters and the community; The king, whom I only knew by name,
And a beggar that, sighing, wobbled by.
"Those days were incredibly sweet; but they are gone now,
Life is tough right now, bleak, and dull; Yet their memory rests—deeply—fondly cherished; God! In Your mercy, do not—do not take that." [1]

[Pg 146]That the placid and serious beauty of Esrom Lake might be enjoyed, undisturbed, in intimate union and rare purity, some monks of the Cistercian order built, in days of yore, a monastery in the island, the ruins of which now alone remain; and it would do the eye good to see the beautiful spot where these monks raised their dwelling.

[Pg 146]To ensure that the calm and serious beauty of Esrom Lake could be enjoyed peacefully, in close connection and extraordinary purity, some Cistercian monks built a monastery on the island long ago, leaving only its ruins today; and it would be a pleasure for the eye to see the lovely place where these monks once made their home.

On such an evening as the one of which I am now almost a part, a light might have been seen dancing strangely round the trunk of a beech, the oak of Denmark. It was no will-o'-the-wisp produced by exhalations of the earth; for, now it would shine brightly, and at the next moment vanish, as if it had mingled with the old tree's leaves. Reappearing, the light would assume an oscillating motion for a short time; then revolve with such rapidity, that it would seem a continuous circle of fire; and, at last, as if wearied with its gyrations, burn with the upward quivering glare of a candle. Suddenly, a slight puffing noise, like the ignition of a small quantity of gunpowder, stole on the night, and the beech, without noise, fell withered to the ground. In its stead stood the figure of a man hid in the travelling hood and mantle worn by the peasants of those days. Folding the mantle close to his form, the man moved with quick steps towards the monastery of Esrom; and, arriving, knocked gently, at the gates. He sought admission, and said that his name was Ruus, [Pg 147]and that the abbot had engaged him to be cook's apprentice. The lateness of the hour pleading in his favour, a monk, doubting not the truth of his assertion, admitted the stranger, who entered without further question on the duties of his humble office.

On an evening like the one I'm almost a part of, a strange light could be seen dancing around the trunk of a beech tree, the oak of Denmark. It wasn't a will-o'-the-wisp caused by fog; sometimes it would shine brightly, and then the next moment disappear, as if it had blended with the old tree's leaves. When it reappeared, the light would sway back and forth for a short time, then spin so quickly it looked like a continuous circle of fire; finally, as if tired from its spinning, it would glow with the flickering light of a candle. Suddenly, a faint puffing noise, like the flash of a small amount of gunpowder, broke the silence of the night, and the beech tree fell silently to the ground. In its place stood a man concealed in the traveling hood and cloak worn by peasants of that time. Tightly wrapping the cloak around himself, the man walked quickly toward the monastery of Esrom. Upon arrival, he knocked softly at the gates. He sought entry and said his name was Ruus, [Pg 147]and that the abbot had hired him as a cook's apprentice. Given the late hour, a monk, believing his story, let the stranger in, who proceeded without further questions to perform the duties of his humble position.

Being one day alone with the master-cook, Ruus showed so much disobedience, and raised the anger of his superior to such a pitch, that he received chastisement severely for his contumely. At this Ruus felt wroth; and, having previously placed a cauldron of water on the fire, and perceiving the water boiled, he seized, in the apparent frenzy of the moment, the master-cook by his ankle and the nape of his neck, and thrust him head foremost into the hissing liquid. Tearing his hair, and putting on the hypocritical garb of innocence, Ruus ran hither and thither screaming, and lamenting in the face of all his saints the irretrievable misfortune which had happened to his master. By such deception, leading the friars by the nose, Ruus caused them to see combined in him tenderness of heart and guilelessness of conduct, and to make him straightway their master-cook. This was precisely the elevated point of trust to which Ruus had aspired, since his entrance into the monastery was urged by the resolution to work out its destruction. The victuals of the friars, made savoury by every herb and spice Ruus could take from the abundant hand of Nature, or steal from the art [Pg 148]of man, were luscious to the extreme of taste; and, delivering themselves up to the enjoyment of all earth's good things, the friars allowed fasting and prayer to slip from their memories. Nay, the legend even tends to the utmost limit of delight, and asserts, that Ruus introduced the most beautiful women to the caresses of this holy fraternity; and so ingratiated himself highly with the abbot, that the old man desired nothing more than that Ruus should become one of their order, and remain for ever master-cook of Esrom monastery. Ruus consented; and, from that moment, quarrels and wickednesses marred the unanimity, and crept stealthily through all the cloisters of the monastery; and the little, childish, coaxing form of sin, by daily toleration and soft endearments, grew to such rapid maturity, that the walls of the monastery would have fallen asunder by the pressure of its bulk, and come under the sway of the Evil One, had not the Father Abbot expostulated with his children, and seasonably persuaded them to avoid their vicious ways.

Being alone one day with the head cook, Ruus was so disobedient and angered his boss so much that he was severely punished for his disrespect. This made Ruus furious, and after he put a pot of water on the fire and noticed it boiling, he, in a fit of rage, grabbed the head cook by the ankle and the back of his neck and shoved him headfirst into the bubbling water. Pulling at his hair and putting on a fake innocent act, Ruus ran around screaming and lamenting to all his saints about the irreparable misfortune that had befallen his master. With this deception, leading the friars by the nose, Ruus made them see both his kindness and innocence, and they immediately appointed him their head cook. This was exactly the high position Ruus had aimed for since he had entered the monastery with the intention of causing its downfall. The friars' food, made delicious with every herb and spice Ruus could take from nature's bounty or steal from human effort, was exceptionally tasty; and indulging in all of life's pleasures, the friars forgot about fasting and prayer. In fact, the legend goes to the extreme of delight, claiming that Ruus even brought beautiful women into the embraces of this holy brotherhood; he ingratiated himself so well with the abbot that the old man wanted nothing more than for Ruus to join their order and remain the head cook of Esrom monastery forever. Ruus agreed; and from that point on, conflicts and wickedness began to disrupt the harmony, creeping quietly through all the cloisters of the monastery; and the childish, tempting nature of sin, through daily indulgence and gentle affection, matured so rapidly that the monastery's walls might have crumbled under its weight and fallen under the control of the Evil One, had not the Father Abbot intervened and wisely urged his flock to abandon their sinful ways.

Now, it so happened, that in the cool of one summer's afternoon, Ruus went forth to walk in a wood; and though the air which he breathed was pure, and the generous sun, mindless of good or bad, poured around an equal distribution of his tempered warmth, Ruus, throwing aside, nevertheless, the harsher trammels of honesty, relaxed to his genial [Pg 149]depravity; for, observing at a little distance a fine fat cow, he approached and slew her; and, taking on his shoulders a quarter to the monastery, left the remaining three-quarters hanging on a tree.

Now, it just so happened that on a cool summer afternoon, Ruus decided to take a walk in the woods. The air he breathed was fresh, and the beautiful sun, oblivious to good or bad, spread an even warmth all around. However, Ruus, putting aside the stricter rules of honesty, gave in to his more indulgent nature. Seeing a plump cow a little way off, he went over and killed her. He carried a quarter of the cow back to the monastery and left the other three-quarters hanging from a tree.

Merry and content of heart, and chanting a native ditty to some young girl he loved, a peasant, to whom the cow belonged, came soon afterwards to seek her; and, when he saw the three-quarters hanging on the tree, his mirth soon ceased, and with wringing hands, uttering sigh after sigh, he knew no bounds of grief, since his wealth exceeded not the cow's possession; but, his sorrow softening at length into moderation, he became lost in the opposite intensity of feeling; and, stung by anger, resolved to climb another tree, and, watching till the thief should come to take the rest of the animal, beat him to death.

Happy and content, singing a sweet song to a young girl he liked, a peasant who owned the cow soon came looking for her. When he saw the three-quarters hanging from the tree, his happiness quickly faded. With his hands wringing and sigh after sigh escaping him, he felt an overwhelming grief, realizing his wealth didn't match what the cow had lost. But as his sorrow gradually turned to moderation, he became consumed by anger and decided to climb another tree, waiting for the thief to return and then plan to beat him to death.

The sun began to sink, the cool breath of evening prevailing over the warmer atmosphere of the day; and, ever and anon, the soft sighing of the air brought to the peasant's ear the faint murmur of voices. While sitting on a lofty tree concealed among the branches, and looking down through the foliage he observed, assembled round the trunk, a vast number of devil's imps playing their pranks, whispering of Ruus, and telling each other how Ruus designed to invite the old Abbot and his monks to partake of an entertainment in hell. The peasant, terrified at all he heard and saw, and, watching [Pg 150]his opportunity, descended furtively from his hiding-place, and, repairing on the morrow to Esrom, told his story to the Abbot.

The sun started to set, and the cool evening air replaced the warmth of the day; now and then, a gentle breeze carried soft whispers to the peasant's ears. As he sat high up in a tree hidden among the branches, looking down through the leaves, he noticed a large group of little demons gathered around the trunk, playing tricks, gossiping about Ruus, and discussing how Ruus planned to invite the old Abbot and his monks to a party in hell. The peasant, frightened by everything he saw and heard, waited for the right moment to quietly slip away from his hiding spot, and the next day, he went to Esrom to share his story with the Abbot.

When the Abbot heard the peasant's tale, in wonder and alarm, he ordered the monks to the church, and, amid the solemn tolling of the bell, throwing himself prostrate on the cold pavement, began to read and sing. Ruus, who had ever shown himself a wayward convert, liked not the lamentable voice of devotional services; and strove to sneak out from the mumbling group, but the Abbot, with resolute horror, seized him by the cloak, and exorcised him, quickly as his tongue would speak, into a red horse; and, by the sanctity of invested power, constrained him, by way of punishment for his wicked designs, to pass through the air day after day to England, and without intermission, in blistering summer, or biting winter, to return bearing on his back 320,000 pounds weight of lead for the roof of Esrom Monastery. This Ruus is supposed in the legends of Zealand, to have been the Devil, who, envious of the piety and virtue of the monks of Esrom, assumed the human form, and gained access to the monastery in the manner, and suffered punishment with the certainty, I have stated.

When the Abbot heard the peasant's story, both amazed and alarmed, he ordered the monks to gather in the church. Amid the solemn ringing of the bell, he threw himself down on the cold floor and began to read and sing. Ruus, who had always been a rebellious convert, didn’t like the mournful sound of the devotional services and tried to sneak away from the mumbling group. But the Abbot, filled with resolute horror, grabbed him by the cloak and quickly exorcised him into a red horse with his words. By the power vested in him, he condemned Ruus, as punishment for his wicked plans, to fly through the air day after day to England, without pause, in the sweltering summer or freezing winter, to return carrying 320,000 pounds of lead for the roof of Esrom Monastery. According to the legends of Zealand, this Ruus is thought to have been the Devil, who, envious of the piety and virtue of the monks of Esrom, took on human form and gained access to the monastery in the way described, suffering the punishment as stated.

During the night the wind had been soothed to a mere zephyr; but its object was only to take breath, for this morning, Sunday, it blew a perfect gale, and the sea was lashed, in a [Pg 151]short time, to such anger, that no communication whatever could be held with the shore. There were many hundred vessels in the roadstead; and, packed closely together as they were, it was amusing to observe the effect of their masts rising and sinking, and tumbling from right to left, as wave after wave approached and receded from each vessel. At noon, all our cable was veered on the starboard anchor, and got ready for slipping, in consequence of a large brig driving in our way. It became doubtful for some hours, as she drew her anchors slowly home, whether the brig would not come athwart our bows, and, if she had, one of us must have gone to the bottom; and since the brig had so much more bulk, and consequently, weight in her favour, than the Iris could muster, the chances are, that my fleshless skull would have been long ago a resort for cockles under the rocks of Cronenborg; but, a friendly wave, full of feeling as of water, struck the brig to windward, and, heeling under the blow, she took a broad sheer on our starboard bow, and dropped clear of us.

During the night, the wind had calmed to a gentle breeze, but its purpose was only to catch its breath. This morning, Sunday, it blew a full gale, and the sea quickly became so tumultuous that there was no way to communicate with the shore. Hundreds of vessels were in the harbor, and it was entertaining to watch their masts rise and fall, swaying wildly from side to side as wave after wave rolled in and out from each ship. By noon, we had let out all our cable on the starboard anchor and were prepared to slip it because a large brig was drifting into our path. For several hours, as the brig slowly pulled up her anchors, it was uncertain whether she would come across our bow. If she had, one of us would have sunk, and since the brig was much larger and heavier than the Iris, it was likely that my lifeless skull would have long since become a home for cockles beneath the rocks of Cronenborg. However, a friendly wave, as if it had a mind of its own, struck the brig's side and, tipping under the impact, it veered away from our starboard bow and cleared us.

At six o'clock in the morning, we got under weigh, and went up the Cattegat, with no particular plan in view, but desirous, if possible, to reach Falkenborg, or some other harbour in Sweden, before night set in. As the sun rose, however, the wind began gradually to fail, and before noon, a calm prevailed so entirely, that all hope of leaving Cronenborg out of sight to [Pg 152]day was dissipated. This being the 24th of May and the Queen's birthday; to commemorate the event and keep our loyalty in good trim, we fired, even under the ramparts of Cronenborg Castle, which is not always liked, a royal salute; and, when we had accomplished about one-half of our Lilliputian cannonade, a large French war-steamer passed within thirty yards of us, and, not heeding the approximation of such a terrible and sensitive neighbour, we continued our firing, and sent a broadside right into the Frenchman's larboard ports, much to his astonishment; for anticipating more deference to the French flag, the engines were immediately stopped, and a Lieutenant in gold banded cap, and thick moustache, started into sight, showing his chin just elevated above the bulwarks, and eying us with great ferocity over the lee-quarter; but repeating our salute with all the precision of an hour glass, which R—— held, and the apparently sublime ignorance of land-lubbers, Monsieur le Lieutenant seemed to feel some consolation for our breach of etiquette, and paddled away again as hard as ever.

At six in the morning, we set off and went up the Cattegat, without any specific plan, but hoping to reach Falkenborg or another harbor in Sweden before nightfall. However, as the sun rose, the wind began to die down, and by noon, it was so calm that all hope of sailing away from Cronenborg that day faded. Since it was the 24th of May and the Queen's birthday, to mark the occasion and show our loyalty, we fired a royal salute even under the walls of Cronenborg Castle, which isn’t always appreciated. As we completed about half of our small cannonade, a large French war steamer passed within thirty yards of us. Ignoring the close presence of such a formidable neighbor, we continued firing and aimed a broadside right into the Frenchman’s port side, much to his surprise. Expecting more respect for the French flag, the engines stopped immediately, and a Lieutenant in a gold-banded cap and thick mustache appeared, peering over the bulwarks with a fierce look while scrutinizing us from the lee side. But as we continued our salute with the precision of an hourglass that R—— held, the Lieutenant seemed to find some comfort in our blatant breach of etiquette, and he turned around and left at full speed.

Not a breath of air was abroad, and the Sound lay silent as a lake. In answer to the booming of our guns, from the town of Helsingborg, five miles off, on the opposite coast of Sweden, we could hear the sound of human tongues, and the bay of dogs, come echoing over the sea, so calm was the day. A thousand [Pg 153]vessels of all nations, some going up, others returning from the Baltic, the deep blue sky, and the hot sun, reminded me more of the Mediterranean than of the northern climate in which I was wandering.

Not a breath of air stirred, and the Sound was as quiet as a lake. In response to the booming of our guns, we could hear voices and barking dogs from the town of Helsingborg, five miles away on the opposite coast of Sweden, as the sea lay so calm. A thousand [Pg 153] vessels from various nations, some heading north and others coming back from the Baltic, along with the deep blue sky and the hot sun, made me feel more like I was in the Mediterranean than in the northern climate I was exploring.

After we had concluded our salute, R—— ordered a swivel to be charged, and, loading it with a handful of rifle balls, fired it towards the coast of Sweden. The experiment was tried in order to satisfy our speculations as to the distance our guns would carry. An immense flock of wild ducks, rather more than a mile from us, rose as we fired; but whether the report, or the bullets interfered with their fishing amusements, I know not, for we did not see the smooth surface of the water disturbed anywhere. Some of the sailors, however, were fanciful enough to assert that they heard the balls strike the rocks on the Swedish shore.

After we finished our salute, R—— ordered a swivel to be loaded, and after putting a handful of rifle balls in it, we fired it towards the coast of Sweden. We did this to see how far our guns would shoot. An enormous flock of wild ducks, more than a mile away, took flight as we fired; but I have no idea if it was the sound of the shot or the bullets that interrupted their fishing, since we didn’t see any ripples on the water’s surface. Some of the sailors, though, claimed they heard the bullets hit the rocks on the Swedish shore.

Every other object, except the high land of Sweden, lost to the eye, Cronenborg was still, for a long way, visible; and, as the sun began to descend, the old Castle, throwing its dark shadows almost across the Sound, seemed to stand forth the gigantic symbol of national protection, and type of times gone by.

Every other object, except the high land of Sweden, was lost from sight; Cronenborg remained visible for quite a distance. As the sun started to set, the old Castle cast its dark shadows almost across the Sound, appearing as a massive symbol of national protection and a reminder of the past.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Translated from the Danish poet, Baggesen.

[1] Translated from the Danish poet, Baggesen.







CHAPTER IX.

ARRIVAL AT FALKENBORG—THE STORM—THE YACHT IN DANGER—SAFE ANCHORAGE—VISIT TO FALKENBORG—LUDICROUS ADVENTURE—A DRIVE INTO THE INTERIOR—GREAT SCARCITY EXPERIENCED BY THE INHABITANTS—DESCRIPTION OF THE COUNTRY—THE DISAPPOINTED ANGLERS—KONGSBACKA—THE YACHT RUNS AGROUND—GOTTENBORG.

ARRIVAL AT FALKENBORG—THE STORM—THE YACHT IN DANGER—SAFE ANCHORAGE—VISIT TO FALKENBORG—FUNNY ADVENTURE—A DRIVE INTO THE COUNTRYSIDE—GREAT SCARCITY EXPERIENCED BY THE LOCALS—DESCRIPTION OF THE AREA—THE DISAPPOINTED FISHERMEN—KONGSBACKA—THE YACHT RUNS AGROUND—GOTTENBORG.


Æolus seems to be the same good-natured deity Virgil represents him to have been in the days of Æneas, and open to any supplication which may be preferred to his rocky throne, whether it be by mythological Juno, or material Jack; nor does that royal soother of waves and raiser of wind pay more attention to such poetic prayer and soft promises of a Goddess, as,

Æolus seems to be the same kind-hearted god Virgil portrayed him as during Æneas's time, ready to listen to any request made to his rocky throne, whether it's from mythological Juno or just an ordinary guy like Jack; nor does that royal tamer of waves and creator of winds pay any more heed to such poetic appeals and gentle promises from a Goddess, as,

"Eole,
Incute vim ventis.
Sunt mihi bis septem præstanti corpore Nymphæ:
Quarum, quæ forma pulcherrima, Deïopeiam
Connubio jungam stabili, propriamque dicabo:
Omnes ut tecum meritis pro talibus annos
Exigat, et pulchrâ faciat te prole parentem,"

Aeolus,
Empower the winds.
I have fourteen amazing Nymphs:
Among them, the most beautiful, Deïopeia,
I will enter into a stable marriage and take as my own:
So that all the years you acknowledge me for these services.
"Can bring you a beautiful child as a parent."

than he listens to the reflections of two British tars.

than he listens to the thoughts of two British sailors.

"I think, from the scud, we shall have wind from the south'ard, Bill."

"I think, judging by the clouds, we're going to get wind from the south, Bill."

"So I think," replies Bill; "and we shall [Pg 155]have enough of it, too. There's a bank of black clouds over the Castle, I don't like."

"So I think," replies Bill; "and we will [Pg 155]have plenty of it, too. There’s a bank of dark clouds over the Castle, and I don’t like that."

"Ay, I'll be d— if it does anything else but blow; but better a good deal than none at all."

"Ay, I’ll be damned if it does anything else but blow; but better a good deal than none at all."

"Don't swear," Bill piously answers, "but take what you can catch. We ain't got a black cat aboard; and, so, trust to Providence."

"Don't curse," Bill replied with feigned seriousness, "but take what you can catch. We don’t have a black cat on board, so let’s leave it up to fate."

About an hour afterwards the observations of the two sailors were verified; for a strong wind sprung up from the south, and blew without intermission till nine o'clock, when we found ourselves abreast of Falkenborg. The sky, being covered by dark masses of flying clouds, made the night, now beginning to set in, more obscure than this season of the year admitted. The coast, though bold, was dangerous and unknown; and we had been told that Falkenborg, though famous for its salmon streams, had no harbour where the yacht might lie with safety, unless, by sailing through a very intricate and narrow channel, we anchored within a reef of rocks stretching three miles from the land. The nearer, therefore, we approached the shore, the more requisite was it to get a pilot on board; but ten o'clock being now near at hand, and the Swedes being notoriously negligent in the performance of their duty as pilots, the chance of speedy relief from our anxious condition was slight indeed.

About an hour later, the observations of the two sailors were confirmed; a strong wind picked up from the south and blew steadily until nine o'clock, when we found ourselves opposite Falkenborg. The sky, filled with dark, swirling clouds, made the night, which was just starting to fall, more obscure than what you'd typically expect for this time of year. The coast, though steep, was dangerous and unfamiliar; we had been told that Falkenborg, although renowned for its salmon streams, offered no safe harbor for the yacht unless we navigated through a very complicated and narrow channel and anchored within a reef of rocks extending three miles from the shore. Therefore, as we got closer to the coast, it became imperative to have a pilot on board; however, with ten o'clock approaching and the Swedes being notoriously careless in their duties as pilots, the chances of quickly getting out of our anxious situation were slim.

Hauling our fore-sheet to windward, and [Pg 156]tricing up the main-tack, we now shot rocket after rocket with a sharp report high into the darkness, and, the roar of our guns booming above the loud storm, must have reached the shore. For upwards of an hour we lay to, dreading to put the cutter about, lest, in doing so, she should strike; for the reef of rocks I have mentioned was nigh, we knew by the chart; but could not, in the obscurity of night, ascertain the exact position of the vessel. Again, the rockets rose into the air, and threw a blaze of light around, as they hissed and flew with the velocity of lightning from the main shrouds, and then burst, a hundred feet above our heads, into myriads of blue, and green, and red sparks, which, curving like a feather, descended towards us, their gently-floating appearance mocking the turbulence of the elements, and our own inquietude. The guns, too, bellowing, an instant after, with the loud tongue of distress, seemed, when their echoes struck with angry force against the elevated points of land, to upbraid the quick exhaustion and placid beauty of the rockets.

Hauling our fore-sheet to the wind, and [Pg 156]tightening up the main-tack, we launched rocket after rocket with a sharp bang high into the darkness, and the roar of our guns booming above the raging storm must have reached the shore. For over an hour we remained in place, afraid to turn the cutter around, worried that we might strike; we knew from the chart that the reef was nearby, but in the dark of night, we couldn’t figure out the exact position of the vessel. Again, the rockets shot into the air, lighting up the surroundings as they hissed and flew with lightning speed from the main shrouds, then bursting a hundred feet above us into thousands of blue, green, and red sparks, which, fluttering down like feathers, descended towards us, their gentle drift mocking the chaos of the elements and our own anxiety. The guns, too, roared a moment later, with a loud cry of distress, and when their echoes slammed angrily against the high points on land, it seemed to reproach the fleeting beauty and calm of the rockets.

With this land on our lee the wind still continued to blow with unabated fury, and, seeing that no assistance could be obtained without resorting to other means, King, with two men, offered to put off in a boat, and seek the aid we desired. These gallant fellows, in the teeth of a tremendous sea, jumped into a small [Pg 157]boat, and, taking several red and blue lights to show, at intervals, their position, rowed, as well as they could calculate, in the direction of the town of Falkenborg.

With the land on our side, the wind continued to blow fiercely, and realizing that we couldn’t get help without trying something different, King and two other guys decided to take a small [Pg 157]boat and look for the assistance we needed. These brave men, facing a huge sea, jumped into the small boat and took several red and blue lights to signal their location as they rowed as best as they could toward the town of Falkenborg.

For two hours, the fate of King and his two companions, was unknown to us, until the whisper passed from man to man on board, that a light was imagined to have been seen. An answering signal was immediately ordered to be made, and a man, running half up the shrouds, burned a blue light; and, instantly, another blue light shone brightly about three miles to windward, on our starboard quarter, then a second followed, and a third; and, to satisfy all doubt, a fourth gleamed steadily through the night. It had been arranged, that King should show a light for every man he might have in the boat, so that if he should chance to find a pilot, a fourth light would immediately convey the intelligence to us.

For two hours, we had no idea what happened to King and his two companions until someone on board whispered that they thought they saw a light. We quickly ordered a signal to be made, and one man ran halfway up the rigging to light a blue flare; immediately, another blue flare lit up about three miles to the wind, on our starboard side, followed by a second and a third. To clear up any doubt, a fourth light shone steadily through the night. It had been planned that King would signal with a light for every person he had in the boat, so if he managed to find a pilot, a fourth light would quickly let us know.

It was impossible for us to do anything more than lay to as long as we could, and, to meet the boat, was utterly impracticable. In a shorter time, however, than could be imagined, from the heavy sea running, the little boat, taken, like a cork, on the top of a wave half way up our mast, then carried down again so near our keel, that, a rope could hardly reach her, jumped, and sank, and tumbled by some agency or other, for the men did not pull, to the lee-gangway, and our three men leaped on [Pg 158]board with a Swedish fisherman. To our questions the Swede replied, through King, that he was not a pilot, and would not attempt to take the cutter within the reef until daylight, and that we must weather out the gale where we were. These were no gratifying tidings to hear on such a dark and boisterous night; but, in this part of Europe, Aurora soon shows her rosy face; and, before I was up the following morning, the yacht was safely at anchor in comparatively smooth water.

It was impossible for us to do anything more than stay put for as long as we could, and trying to meet the boat was completely impractical. However, in a shorter time than we could have imagined, with the heavy sea rolling, the little boat was lifted like a cork to the top of a wave halfway up our mast, then carried down so close to our keel that a rope could hardly reach her. It jumped, sank, and tumbled by some force or other, as the men didn’t pull, to the leeward gangway, and our three men jumped on [Pg 158]board with a Swedish fisherman. When we asked him questions, the Swede replied through King that he wasn’t a pilot and wouldn’t try to take the cutter within the reef until daylight, and that we had to ride out the storm where we were. These were not comforting words on such a dark and stormy night; but in this part of Europe, dawn soon shows her rosy face; and before I was up the next morning, the yacht was safely anchored in relatively calm water.

The reef of rocks, which forms the only roadstead at Falkenborg, circles in the shape of a horse-shoe, having but one inlet. It is sunk half a foot under water, so that a heavy surf is always broken before it reaches a vessel lying in the centre of this curious bay. The channel into it is not more than twenty or thirty feet in breadth.

The rocky reef that creates the only harbor at Falkenborg is shaped like a horseshoe, with just one entrance. It's submerged about half a foot underwater, so heavy waves are always broken before they reach any boat anchored in the middle of this unique bay. The channel leading into it is only twenty or thirty feet wide.

After breakfast, we rowed ashore in the gig. In compensation for the abatement of wind, the rain fell determinately, and in such big drops, that, not all the coats and cloaks we put on, could keep us dry. P—— however, had gone by daylight into the town, and hired a carriole, which was to take us some distance into the neighbouring country, where, it was said, a celebrated salmon-stream ran.

After breakfast, we rowed to the shore in the small boat. Since the wind had died down, the rain fell heavily, and the big drops were so relentless that no amount of coats and cloaks could keep us dry. P——, however, had gone into town earlier and rented a small carriage, which was supposed to take us a fair distance into the nearby countryside, where it was said there was a famous salmon stream.

On our arrival in the town of Falkenborg, a guard of several men, with drawn swords, received us; but what their motive was in honouring us with their protection, we could not [Pg 159]conceive. Wherever we went, these men kept close to our heels, nor faltered in the strictest observance of every military evolution. This seeming honour amounted, at length, to extreme pertinacity, and became offensive to our freedom; for, it not only excited the curiosity of numberless dogs, that barked, and the admiration of ragged children, who pointed at us as we passed; but, if R——, or P——, or I, walked into a fisherman's hut, or any humbler dwelling, to inquire the way, a man, with unsheathed sword, and scowling brow, would step from this redoubted phalanx, and place himself on the threshold, watching minutely every action. Tormented at length to anger, by the pursuit of this file of armed men, P—— asked them what they meant; but receiving, of course, no reply to his common, yet, to them, incomprehensible question, he determined to seek out the Mayor, and represent to that functionary the nuisance to which we were subject.

Upon arriving in the town of Falkenborg, we were met by a group of men with their swords drawn. We couldn't understand why they felt the need to protect us. No matter where we went, these men stayed right behind us, strictly following every military maneuver. What seemed like an honor quickly turned into extreme stubbornness and started to feel intrusive. It not only drew the curiosity of countless barking dogs and the admiration of ragged children, who pointed at us as we walked by, but when R——, P——, or I entered a fisherman's hut or any simple home to ask for directions, one of these men would step out of their ranks with his sword unsheathed and a scowl, standing at the doorway and closely watching our every move. Eventually fed up with being trailed by this line of armed men, P—— asked them what they were doing, but of course, he received no answer to his straightforward, though to them, baffling question. He decided to find the Mayor and tell him about the nuisance we were facing.

On reaching the Mayor's residence, our complaint was laid very forcibly by P——, who was not a little nettled before that old gentleman, who, shaking his grey hairs, replied, as well as he could, in French, that the anticipated arrival of an English yacht at Falkenborg had been communicated to him some days ago, and it was, at the same time, hinted the object of the Englishman on board that yacht, was to fish. An order was [Pg 160]therefore issued by the owner of the salmon-streams near Falkenborg to prevent any foreigners from angling on his property, and, in pursuance of that order, the Mayor, fancying us to be the real Simon Pures, which, by the bye, we were, had directed much attention should be paid us, and no latitude given to our movements.

Upon arriving at the Mayor's house, our complaint was expressed strongly by P——, who was quite irritated in front of the old man. The Mayor, shaking his gray hair, responded as best as he could in French, explaining that he had been informed a few days earlier about the expected arrival of an English yacht at Falkenborg, and it was also suggested that the purpose of the Englishman on that yacht was to fish. An order was [Pg 160] consequently issued by the owner of the salmon streams near Falkenborg to stop any foreigners from fishing on his property. Following that order, the Mayor, believing us to be the genuine article—which, by the way, we were—decided that we should be closely monitored and that we wouldn't be allowed much freedom in our movements.

A short remonstrance being made to the inconveniences we felt by the obstinate attendance of this body guard; and on our simple assertion, without pledging our honour, that we would not molest, by fly or net, two or three rivers which were mentioned, it was promulgated by the Mayor himself, from his library window, to the populace below, consisting of four women, the man who was to drive our carriole, forty half naked urchins, and twice as many curs, that, the battalion of six men was dismissed, and the rear of the three Englishmen should be annoyed no longer.

A brief complaint was made about the issues we experienced because of the stubborn presence of this bodyguard. Based on our simple statement, without promising anything, that we wouldn't disturb two or three specific rivers with nets or flies, the Mayor himself announced from his library window to the small crowd below, which included four women, the guy who was supposed to drive our carriage, forty half-naked kids, and twice as many stray dogs, that the squad of six men was dismissed, and the three Englishmen would no longer be bothered.

This misunderstanding being set at rest, we got into our carriole, and started to perform a journey of ten miles into the interior of the country. The harness, which attached the two horses to our vehicle, had not an inch of leather from one end of it to the other. The collar was a plain, flat piece of wood; the traces were wood; the bit was wood; the shafts, of course, were wood; and the reins alone relieved the monotony of appointment by being of rope. Small wooden pegs [Pg 161]supplied, by some ingenuity I could not fathom, the absence of buckles. The carriole itself had not even a piece of iron to act in any way as a spring, and the agony we suffered when this wretched machine creaked, and squeaked, and jolted over the stones, is indescribable; and, to the eye, it was one of the clumsiest pieces of carpentry I ever met with; nor do I hesitate in saying, that an approximation to a civilized condition was more evident among savages I have seen, than in this first glimpse of Sweden. I could hardly persuade myself I was not more than six hundred miles from London; and when the driver began to talk to me about the result of the war in China, and ask if George the Third was dead, I was not at all astonished that the Baron Munchausen could write such travels as he did.

This misunderstanding cleared up, we got into our carriage and set off on a ten-mile journey into the countryside. The harness that connected the two horses to our vehicle didn’t have a single inch of leather. The collar was just a flat piece of wood; the traces were wood; the bit was wood; the shafts, of course, were wood; and the reins were the only thing breaking the monotony, being made of rope. Small wooden pegs [Pg 161] cleverly replaced the missing buckles in a way I couldn’t figure out. The carriage itself didn’t even have a piece of iron to act as a spring, and the pain we experienced as this miserable machine creaked and jolted over the stones was beyond words; it was visually one of the clumsiest pieces of carpentry I had ever seen. I can confidently say that I encountered a more civilized condition among some of the savages I had met than in this first look at Sweden. I could hardly convince myself that I was less than six hundred miles from London; and when the driver started talking to me about the outcome of the war in China and asking if George the Third was dead, I wasn’t at all surprised that Baron Munchausen could write such travels.

We arrived about three o'clock at the river where salmon were said to abound; but when the evening brought the labour of an entire day to its close, neither R—— nor P—— were able to speak to the truth of that abundance, for they had not even a bite between them. It was our original intention to sleep at a cottage on the banks of this river; but it seemed to be inhabited by a patriarch, the father of so many suspicious-looking sons, grown in want to maturity, that we thought the most prudent plan was to return and rest for the night at Falkenborg. Resuming our [Pg 162]place of purgatory in the carriole, we were soon galloping on our way home; for the Swedes, like the Norwegians, drive at a tremendous pace, and it is astounding how these carrioles, so barbarously joined together, scouring over ruts and stones, do not tumble to pieces.

We arrived at the river around three o'clock, where they said there were plenty of salmon. But by the time evening arrived and the day's work came to an end, neither R—— nor P—— could confirm that there was any abundance, as they didn't even get a bite between them. We had originally planned to sleep in a cottage by the river, but it looked to be occupied by a patriarch and his many suspicious-looking adult sons, so we decided it was wiser to head back and stay the night at Falkenborg. Getting back into our [Pg 162]makeshift vehicle, we quickly sped on our way home; the Swedes, like the Norwegians, drive incredibly fast, and it's surprising how these carriole setups, so roughly put together, can fly over ruts and stones without falling apart.

At every river we had to cross, a large boat, like a coal barge, without stem or stern, is to be found, and stowing carriole, horses, and everything else connected with them into this huge ferry boat, the driver, by means of a rope made fast and extending from one bank to the opposite one, draws boat and cargo across, and, reaching the shore he desires, remounts his box, and, heeding not from which quarter the next traveller may come, drives off, and leaves the barge where he did not meet with it. I do not know how a wayfarer, following in our track, contrives to reach our side of the water; but I fancy some person, unseen, must be left in charge of these ferries, and rows across in a skiff, or other smaller boat when necessity requires.

At every river we had to cross, there was a large boat, like a coal barge, without a front or back. The driver loaded the carriage, horses, and everything else onto this big ferry boat, and then, using a rope attached from one bank to the other, pulled the boat and its cargo across. Once he reached the desired shore, he got back on his carriage and, not paying attention to where the next traveler might come from, drove off, leaving the barge behind where he found it. I’m not sure how someone following our path manages to get to our side of the water, but I imagine that there’s someone unseen in charge of these ferries who rows across in a small boat when needed.

Passing along we saw several horses dying on the roadside from hunger; and one poor brute, that we observed, in the morning, lying in a ditch, was quite dead when we reached the same spot in the evening. Our driver, who was an intelligent man, and, having been a volunteer in the English service, spoke our language fluently, said, that all the oats and [Pg 163]corn which could be spared had been shipped within a few months to England, to allay the threatened famine there; and the animals in the country were starving from the deficiency of all kinds of grain. The pastures, we could ourselves see, were dry, and in many parts burnt to chaff, while the present summer beginning with oppressive heat, and the preceding one having been equally unfavourable to the pasturage, the scarcity of food was severely and fatally felt by all cattle.

As we passed by, we saw several horses dying on the roadside from hunger; and one poor animal that we noticed in the morning, lying in a ditch, was completely dead when we returned to the same spot in the evening. Our driver, who was an intelligent man and had been a volunteer in the English service, spoke our language fluently. He mentioned that all the oats and [Pg 163]corn that could be spared had been shipped to England in the past few months to alleviate the threatened famine there; as a result, the animals in the country were starving due to the shortage of all kinds of grain. We could see for ourselves that the pastures were dry and, in many areas, burned to dust, while this summer started with oppressive heat, and the previous summer had also been unfavorable for grazing, making the scarcity of food severely and fatally impact all cattle.

"Every thing, Sir," said the man, "would have gone on well, had the king forbidden corn to be sent to England, for Sweden can feed its inhabitants; but when we send away any part of the crop, we feel the loss very much."

"Everything, Sir," said the man, "would have gone smoothly if the king had banned sending corn to England, because Sweden can feed its people; but whenever we export part of the harvest, we really feel the loss."

"Have you ever suffered so much before?" one of us asked.

"Have you ever been through that much pain before?" one of us asked.

"No, Sir," he replied; "the Swedes are poor, and very little satisfies them. We feel not famine ourselves, but the animals do; and if they die now, at the beginning of summer, for want of food, what will they do when the long winter comes? There—there's another," he said, as we drove past another horse stretched near a hedge on the road, and struggling faintly for life.

"No, sir," he said. "The Swedes are struggling, and very little makes them happy. We don't feel the hunger ourselves, but the animals do; and if they die now, at the start of summer, from lack of food, what will happen when the long winter arrives? Look—there’s another one," he added, as we drove past another horse lying near a hedge on the road, weakly fighting for life.

"Your horses will be exterminated," I said, "if they are neglected in this wholesale fashion."

"Your horses will be wiped out," I said, "if they're treated like this on such a large scale."

"Why, Sir," answered the Swede, "horses [Pg 164]are not of much use in Sweden, for the agriculture of the country is carried on so differently to what it is in England, that a family, with their own hands, can plough and sow a sufficient quantity of land to supply their wants through the winter; and we don't buy and sell corn here, for we all have our few acres. The farmers, therefore, allow the horses to starve, in order to apply the food they would consume to the preservation of cows and sheep."

"Well, Sir," the Swede replied, "horses [Pg 164]aren't really useful in Sweden. The way we farm here is so different from England that a family can easily plow and plant enough land by themselves to get through the winter. We don't buy and sell grain because everyone has their own small plots of land. So, farmers often let their horses go hungry to save food for the cows and sheep."

The country through which we travelled appeared dreary in the extreme: its level, sandy surface being nowhere varied by the pleasing undulation of hill and dale. This is not the general aspect of Sweden, I know; but, perhaps, I perceive this deficiency the more, being so lately arrived from Denmark, where the landscapes are soft and beautiful, while the natural gloom of its forests is relieved by the calmness of its lakes.

The country we traveled through looked incredibly dreary: its flat, sandy ground didn’t have the charming hills and valleys. I know this isn’t how Sweden usually is, but maybe I notice this lack more because I just came from Denmark, where the landscapes are gentle and beautiful, and the natural darkness of the forests is balanced by the tranquility of its lakes.

We reached Falkenborg at twelve, and, by dint of much loud knocking, awoke the people at an inn, or cabaret, where we slept. The following morning, as soon as it was light, we went to fish in a river near the town, but encountered the same good fortune of which we had hitherto made no complaint, considering that the mere sport of angling for salmon had brought us to Scandinavia; and up to the present moment we had not seen the scaly snout of a single fish. We murmured [Pg 165]not; but could not resist the doubt, that the existence of salmon in Northern Europe was a reality; nor could we conceal from ourselves the absurd light in which we appeared to the simple people who each day, with mute astonishment, beheld us, late and early, in storm and calm, deliberately and untiringly flog with a long line of cat-gut their legendary streams, in the vain hope of capturing a creature not to be caught in them; and which effort on our part was, in their opinion, a striking proof of the aberration of human intelligence.

We arrived in Falkenborg at noon, and after knocking loudly, we woke up the people at an inn, where we stayed the night. The next morning, as soon as it was light, we went fishing in a river near the town but had the same luck as before, which we hadn’t complained about yet, considering our main reason for coming to Scandinavia was to fish for salmon; and up to that point, we hadn’t seen a single fish. We didn’t complain [Pg 165], but we couldn’t shake the doubt that salmon existed in Northern Europe; nor could we ignore how ridiculous we must have looked to the simple locals, who watched us every day, in both stormy and calm weather, tirelessly whipping a long line of gut at their legendary streams, hoping to catch a fish that wasn’t in there; and they likely thought our efforts were a clear sign of human folly.

We had now travelled over a space of more than a thousand miles, and were as far removed from the object of which we came in pursuit, as the first hour when we left Greenwich; and yet our diligence had been exemplary, our inquiries most minute, and our measures, in carrying out the information we received, most prompt.

We had now traveled over a distance of more than a thousand miles and were just as far from the goal we set out to achieve as we were in the first hour after leaving Greenwich. Yet, our efforts had been exceptional, our inquiries very detailed, and our actions in following up on the information we received had been very prompt.

R—— and P—— went on board perfectly disgusted, and ready to start on the morrow for Kongsbacka, or Gottenborg, or anywhere else. I sympathised with their disappointment, for the desire to catch salmon had amounted to a passion; and I do not think any other feeling, even of love or hatred, sat more paramount in their breasts; and when I called to mind how,

R—— and P—— boarded, completely disgusted and ready to leave the next day for Kongsbacka, Gottenborg, or anywhere else. I felt for their disappointment because their eagerness to catch salmon had turned into an obsession; I don’t think any other emotion, even love or hate, was more dominant in their hearts; and when I recalled how,

"Patiens pulveris atque solis,"

"Patiens dust and sun,"

each of them had endured all inconveniences without any remuneration, I could not help thinking [Pg 166]of those truthful lines of Anacreon, which he applied, to be sure, to softer emotions of the heart than those now depressing the hilarity of my companions, but the spirit of which was, nevertheless, identified with the tone of their minds:——

each of them had put up with all sorts of inconveniences without any reward, I couldn’t help but think [Pg 166]of those honest lines by Anacreon, which he used, of course, for gentler feelings of the heart than those currently dampening the spirits of my companions, but the essence of which was, nonetheless, in line with their mindset:——

"Χαλεπὸν τὸ μὴ φιλῆσαι,
Χαλεπὸν δὲ καὶ φιλῆσαι,
Χαλεπώτατον δὲ πάντων,
Ἀποτυγχάνειν φιλοῦντα."

"It's hard not to love,"
it's hard to love,
and it's the hardest of all,
to fail at love.

The period when I left school is gone so far with the past, that I can no longer bring back its lore, and, taking up my lexicon, translate; but, if some old Etonian will receive the signification of these four lines as I do, and allow their collective meaning to huddle in one confused lump round the base of some shattered classic column, and there remain, I shall feel thankful for the task I am spared in cracking each word into English.

The time when I finished school is so far in the past that I can't recall its lessons, and when I pick up my dictionary, I can't translate it; however, if any old Etonian understands these four lines like I do, and lets their overall meaning gather into one jumbled idea around the base of some broken classic column, and just leave it there, I’ll be grateful for not having to break down each word into modern English.

The coast of Falkenborg is the most uninteresting I have yet seen; and, wherever I turn, the same low shore, with its solitary lighthouse, and thousands of gulls, meets the eye.

The coast of Falkenborg is the most boring place I've seen so far; and, wherever I look, the same flat shore, with its lonely lighthouse and thousands of seagulls, greets my eyes.

On Thursday morning we left melancholy Falkenborg for Gottenborg; but, having understood that at Kongsbacka some salmon-fishing might be obtained, we made up our minds to stop there for a few hours, and ascertain the truth of our information; for once deceived at Falkenborg, R—— and P—— had no [Pg 167]fancy for being deceived at Kongsbacka also. A fine breeze favouring us, every stitch of canvass the Iris could carry was crowded on her, and at three o'clock the same afternoon we found ourselves off Kongsbacka, and threatened with a calm. A solitary boat put off from a solitary shore, and, rowing alongside, a man tendered his services as a pilot; but replying to our inquiries for "lax[2]," that there were not any, we thanked him for his ingenuousness, and declined his assistance.

On Thursday morning, we left the gloomy Falkenborg for Gottenborg. However, after hearing that some salmon fishing might be possible at Kongsbacka, we decided to stop there for a few hours to verify this information. After being tricked in Falkenborg, R—— and P—— had no interest in being misled again at Kongsbacka. With a nice breeze in our favor, we set sail with every bit of canvas the Iris could manage, and by three o'clock that afternoon, we found ourselves off Kongsbacka, facing the threat of a calm. A lone boat pushed off from a lonely shore, and as it rowed alongside, a man offered his services as a pilot. However, when we asked about "lax," he replied that there were none available. We thanked him for his honesty and declined his help.

The appearance of the sky, and the quarter whence the wind came, promising a clear night and a good run, the helm was put hard up, and we stretched away from the land to get a wide offing before sunset, and to stand in a fairer course to Gottenborg. At six o'clock, however, the wind died away, and before the sun bade us "good night," not a ripple, far as the eye could roam, curled the ocean, on which, like a pool of quicksilver, the vessel appeared to stick. So smooth, so bright, so still, was the sea, that, when the sun's lower limb dipped in the west, his dilated disc, drawn out longitudinally, seemed like a blazing column, inlaid in the water, and extending from the horizon to the yacht's channels.

The sky looked clear, and the direction of the wind suggested a good night ahead, so we turned the helm sharply and sailed away from the shore to create some distance before sunset. This would help us plot a better course to Gothenburg. However, at six o'clock, the wind completely died down, and before the sun said its "good night," the ocean was completely still—no ripples in sight, the vessel seemed to be stuck on a pool of quicksilver. The sea was so smooth, bright, and calm that when the sun's bottom edge dipped down in the west, its swollen disc, stretched out horizontally, looked like a blazing column embedded in the water, reaching from the horizon to the yacht's sides.

Either a gentle current of air or tide, which was imperceptible to us, drifted the yacht into [Pg 168]the bay again; but, beyond the inconvenience of being land-locked, no danger threatened us; for the coast in the neighbourhood of Kongsbacka is bold, and the water unfathomable within a few feet of the rocks. The bay itself, not enlivened by a house, or sign of human habitation anywhere, was grand, surrounded on three sides by rocky mountains, and studded here and there with islands, perfectly white from the multitude of gulls which were perched on them.

Either a gentle breeze or current, which we couldn't notice, carried the yacht back into [Pg 168]the bay; but apart from the hassle of being stuck, we were safe; the coast around Kongsbacka is steep, and the water is deep just a few feet from the rocks. The bay itself, lacking any houses or signs of human life, was magnificent, surrounded on three sides by rocky mountains and dotted with islands, perfectly white from the abundance of gulls perched on them.

The bay was so calm that we could see a great way along the water. A black speck, like a hat, caught our attention; and, having nothing else to do, P—— and I rowed in the jolly-boat to it; and, when we reached it, were as much puzzled to make out its purpose as we were at a distance to conjecture its form. It turned out to be a small keg attached to a long line; and we imagined, at the first glance, it was the component part of a salmon-net; but salmon, we knew on the other hand, though of the sea, were not to be caught in it. P—— seized hold of the keg; and, both together, we commenced hauling in the line as fast as we could. The lapse of a little time brought us to the end of it, and some dozen lobsters began flapping their goose-like tails in our faces. We took two out of the trap for our trouble, and let down the rest to wait the coming of their rightful owner.

The bay was so calm that we could see far across the water. A small black object, like a hat, caught our eye; and with nothing else to do, P—— and I rowed the jolly-boat over to it. When we got there, we were just as confused about its purpose as we had been from a distance trying to figure out what it was. It turned out to be a small keg attached to a long line; and at first glance, we thought it might be part of a salmon net, but we knew that salmon, even from the sea, wouldn’t be caught in it. P—— grabbed the keg, and together we started pulling in the line as quickly as we could. After a short while, we got to the end of it, and a dozen lobsters began flapping their tail-like fins in our faces. We took two out of the trap for our efforts and let the rest go to wait for their rightful owner.

The stars now came forth, one by one, to [Pg 169]gaze about them, but slunk back slyly when their Queen, still youthful with increasing horns, peeped over the eastern wave at us; and when, in her first glance of splendour, she cast a strong white light on the rocky shore encircling the bay, its calm, clear water, taking a greener tint from the wooded sides of the mountains, looked like an emerald set in silver. The scene was still, and purely beautiful. The cutter lay like a log on the water, the reef-points rattling on the main-sail like a shower of small shot; and, every time he heard the sound, the man at the helm would raise his eyes aloft, and, fixing them steadily on the gaff-topsail for a minute or two, turn round and scan the horizon; and then, walking to the quarter, moisten his forefinger in his mouth, and hold it above his head.

The stars started to appear one by one, to [Pg 169]look around, but quickly pulled back when their Queen, still youthful with her growing horns, peeked over the eastern wave at us. When she first shone her brilliant light, she cast a strong white glow on the rocky shore surrounding the bay. The calm, clear water, reflecting a greener shade from the forested mountain sides, looked like an emerald set in silver. The scene was still and incredibly beautiful. The boat lay still on the water, the reef points rattling on the mainsail like a shower of small shot; every time he heard that sound, the man at the helm would lift his eyes up, focus them on the gaff-topsail for a minute or two, then turn around to scan the horizon. After that, he would walk to the quarter, moisten his forefinger in his mouth, and hold it up over his head.

"There's a breeze coming, Sir," he said aloud, but in an under-tone, to the mate, the officer of the watch; who, coming aft, stood looking, far and near, on the water, to observe the ripple of a coming wind.

"There's a breeze coming, Sir," he said out loud, but quietly, to the mate, the officer on watch; who, coming toward the back, stood looking out, far and wide, at the water to see the ripple of the approaching wind.

"I see," he said; "it's springing up from the south'ard;" and, pacing the deck to and fro, he would also turn his eyes to the topmast-head every time he reached the quarter-deck of the vessel, to mark if the night-flag moved. Standing, at last, close to the helmsman,

"I understand," he said; "it's coming up from the south;" and as he walked back and forth on the deck, he would look up at the topmast every time he reached the quarter-deck of the ship to see if the night-flag was waving. Finally, he stood close to the helmsman,

"How's her head?" he asked.

"How's she doing?" he asked.

[Pg 170]"North, a quarter east, Sir," replied the man. After a short pause, the mate, taking another glimpse aloft, said,

[Pg 170]"North, a little east, Sir," the man replied. After a brief pause, the mate glanced up again and said,

"Slack off the main-sheet."

"Loosen the main-sheet."

"Ay, ay, Sir," several men replied, and hurried, with a kind of trot, to comply with the command.

"Yes, Sir," several men responded and quickly hurried off with a sort of trot to follow the order.

"How are the head-sheets?" again said the mate.

"How are the head-sheets?" the mate asked again.

"All taut, Sir," answered a voice.

"All set, Sir," replied a voice.

"Ease them off," was the mate's command.

"Ease them off," the mate ordered.

"Ay, ay, Sir," the same voice answered.

"Ay, ay, Sir," the same voice replied.

"So; belay there," the mate called out to the men who were slackening the main-sail. Going up to the binnacle, he observed the compass, and addressing the helmsman, said,

"So, hold on there," the mate called out to the men who were loosening the main sail. Walking over to the binnacle, he checked the compass and said to the helmsman,

"Let her break off three points."

"Let her take off three points."

"Very good, Sir," replied the sailor; while the mate, still keeping his eyes on the compass, watched the needle till it reached the desired point, and exclaimed quickly, when he saw the vessel fast obeying her helm,

"Sounds great, Sir," replied the sailor; while the mate, still focusing on the compass, watched the needle until it hit the right point and quickly exclaimed when he saw the ship responding well to her steering.

"Now; take her up;—don't let her break off any more."

"Now, pick her up;—don't let her pull away again."

"Ay, ay, Sir."

"Yes, sir."

"How's that lee runner?" the mate asked, hearing the main-sail chafe against the runner block. "Slack it off, and take a turn or two at the weather one."

"How's that lee runner?" the mate asked, hearing the mainsail rub against the runner block. "Loosen it up and take a turn or two at the windward one."

"Ay, ay, Sir."

"Yes, yes, sir."

[Pg 171]The officer then walking the deck again, all was silent as before, with the exception only of a rippling sound as the cutter began to feel a breath of air, and move through the water.

[Pg 171]The officer walked the deck again, and everything was as silent as before, except for a soft rippling sound as the cutter caught a breeze and glided through the water.

The wind fairly sprung up at midnight, and at eight o'clock in the morning, the pilot came on board. About ten miles from Gottenborg, this pilot contrived to run the yacht aground at eleven A.M., and there she stuck until half-past two P.M.; but the mishap occurred not so much through his ignorance, as through the importunity of some custom-house officers, and the lightness of the wind. We reached Gottenborg in the course of the afternoon, and, after a great deal of shouting, swearing, hauling, and entangling of rigging, the yacht was moored very pleasantly alongside the quay. We were indebted to the courtesy of the Harbour-Master for the berth we obtained, since he compelled two large American ships to alter their position, and make room for us.

The wind picked up around midnight, and by eight in the morning, the pilot boarded the yacht. About ten miles from Gothenburg, he managed to run the yacht aground at eleven A.M., and it stayed stuck until half-past two P.M.. This accident happened not so much because of his lack of knowledge, but due to the persistence of some customs officers and the weak wind. We reached Gothenburg in the afternoon, and after a lot of shouting, swearing, hauling, and getting the rigging tangled, the yacht was tied up nicely alongside the quay. We were grateful to the Harbour Master for the spot we got, as he had to make two large American ships change their positions to make room for us.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] "Lax," in the Swedish language, is "salmon."

"Lax" means "salmon" in Swedish.







CHAPTER X.

THE CASINO AT GOTTENBORG—AWKWARD DILEMMA—THE WATCHMAN AND THE NORTHERN STAR—SWEDISH ARTILLERY—THE GROVE—AN OLD MAN'S HISTORY—THE ALARM OF FIRE—THE CARRIAGE OVERTURNED—THE RIVER GOTHA—WASHING IN THE STREAM—THE NARROW STREETS—DESCRIPTION OF GOTTENBORG—ITS DECAYED COMMERCE—THE HERRING FISHERY.

THE CASINO AT GOTTENBORG—AWKWARD DILEMMA—THE WATCHMAN AND THE NORTHERN STAR—SWEDISH ARTILLERY—THE GROVE—AN OLD MAN'S HISTORY—THE FIRE ALARM—THE CARRIAGE OVERTURNED—THE RIVER GOTHA—WASHING IN THE STREAM—THE NARROW STREETS—DESCRIPTION OF GOTTENBORG—ITS DECAYED COMMERCE—THE HERRING FISHERY.


R—— and P—— had expressed a wish to visit the Falls of Trolhättan, and, the Iris had scarcely touched the quay, before they started in search of a carriage to convey them to the Falls. As I knew we should sail for Christiania early on Tuesday morning, I was desirous of seeing Gottenborg, and preferred remaining where I was, and allowing R—— and P—— to go to Trolhättan without me; and I was more determined when I heard they had arranged to begin their journey at five o'clock the following morning, Saturday. I learned nothing more about the matter until three o'clock in the morning, when, by the counterpane, blankets, and sheets being pulled off my bed, I was awakened from a sound sleep, and recovered my senses in time to hear R—— and P—— laughing, and scrambling up the companion-stairs.

R—— and P—— wanted to visit the Trolhättan Falls, and as soon as the Iris docked, they set out to find a carriage to take them there. Since we were leaving for Christiania early on Tuesday morning, I wanted to see Gothenburg and decided to stay put, letting R—— and P—— go to Trolhättan without me. I became even more certain of my choice when I found out they planned to start their trip at five o'clock on Saturday morning. I didn’t hear anything else about it until three o'clock in the morning, when I was jolted awake by my bed being stripped of its covers and discovered R—— and P—— laughing and climbing up the stairs.

I passed the day on board, stretched at full [Pg 173]length on the sofa, and reading; nor was it possible to employ the body more industriously, the thermometer not being much below 90. The cool evening, the bright moon, and the Casino induced me to forego all solitary confinement, and to wander in the direction of the town.

I spent the day on the boat, lying flat on the sofa and reading; there wasn’t much else I could do since the temperature was almost 90 degrees. The cool evening, the bright moon, and the Casino tempted me to skip any more solitude and head towards the town.

By dint of many and frequent inquiries I arrived at the Casino. This Casino resembled not the one I had visited at Copenhagen, but bore more affinity to the tea gardens of England.

By making many inquiries, I finally arrived at the Casino. This Casino was nothing like the one I had visited in Copenhagen; instead, it was more similar to the tea gardens of England.

There was a cottage in the centre of a flower garden, and at one extremity of another garden a building, imitative of an Indian pagoda, stood, appropriated to a fine band breathing, throughout the evening, all the pathos and melody of Italian music. The cottage itself was set apart for refreshment, and one might descend to a cup of coffee, or mount to the limitless command of a dinner. I had dined very early, and, feeling the effects of good digestion, desired to dine again. The persons who attended the guests were Swedish girls, as notorious for their inability to speak English, or any other language but their own, as they are conspicuous for their personal attractions. Beckoning one Hebe, whom I had selected, to come to me, I endeavoured, by every method I could devise, to inform her how hungry I was, and how I should like to have some food more edible [Pg 174]than muffin. She bowed her pretty head in token of her entire perception of my wishes, and, leaving the room with the agility of a fawn, returned in a short time, laden with a tray, from the level surface of which rose a tall coffee-pot that continued to taper till it kissed with its old fashioned lid her jet black ringlets.

There was a cottage in the middle of a flower garden, and at one end of another garden stood a building resembling an Indian pagoda, dedicated to a talented band playing, throughout the evening, all the emotion and beauty of Italian music. The cottage itself was designated for refreshments, where one could drop in for a cup of coffee or have a full dinner. I had eaten very early and, feeling good after digestion, wanted to eat again. The staff attending to the guests were Swedish girls, known for their inability to speak English or any other language besides their own, as much as they were recognized for their attractiveness. I signaled to one girl, whom I had chosen, and tried every way I could think of to let her know how hungry I was and that I wanted something more delicious than a muffin. She nodded her pretty head in acknowledgment of my wishes, and, leaving the room with the grace of a fawn, soon returned, carrying a tray. From the flat surface of the tray, a tall coffee pot rose, tapering until its old-fashioned lid brushed against her jet black curls. [Pg 174]

Alarmed to mark at what a fearful distance I stood from my dinner, I looked wistfully round the room for some face on which I could read an example or two of the English grammar; but in vain. The poor girl observed that she had not anticipated my desire as well as she might have, and said something to me in a tone of regret, to which I could only make reply by a partial negative and affirmative shake of my head, and committing it to the peculiar sagacity of her sex to understand what I wanted. A little, stout man, something like a runt, saw the position to which I was reduced, and, coming up to me, said in broken English,

Alarmed to see how far I was from my dinner, I searched the room for a face that might provide a few examples of English grammar, but I found none. The poor girl realized she hadn’t quite understood my needs and spoke to me apologetically, to which I could only respond with a slight shake of my head, both yes and no, hoping that her instinct as a woman would help her grasp what I wanted. A short, stout man, somewhat like a runt, noticed my predicament and approached me, saying in broken English,

"What you want, Sir? can I do you help?"

"What do you want, Sir? How can I help you?"

"Thank you," I replied; "I want some dinner; but I cannot make this girl understand me."

"Thanks," I said; "I want some dinner, but I can’t get this girl to understand me."

"I not English," answered the man, "and I not speak te Swedish. I am Russian. I alway make sign for tings I wish."

"I’m not English," the man replied, "and I don’t speak Swedish. I’m Russian. I always make signs for things I want."

"And so do I," I said; "but in this case I am quite at a loss what to do."

"And so do I," I said, "but in this situation I'm really not sure what to do."

[Pg 175]"You want dinner, Sir? When I want dinner," replied the Russian, "I alway say, 'food,' vitch is, 'föda,' and put my finger down my mout; and if tey not know what I mean by 'föda,' I say, 'kött,' vitch is meat."

[Pg 175]"You want dinner, Sir? When I'm hungry for dinner," the Russian replied, "I always say 'food,' which is 'föda,' and point down my mouth; and if they don't understand what I mean by 'föda,' I say 'kött,' which means meat."

"That's a capital plan; but, you see, I could not adopt it, for I never heard of 'Föda' and 'Kött' before."

"That's a great plan; but, you see, I can't follow it because I’ve never heard of 'Föda' and 'Kött' before."

"Ha! Sir," exclaimed the Russian, "I alway find out te word for 'eat' in every country. I travel much. I starve if I not know. What shall I help for you?"

"Ha! Sir," exclaimed the Russian, "I always find out the word for 'eat' in every country. I travel a lot. I would starve if I didn't know. How can I help you?"

"Why—I will have some dinner," I said; "anything I can get—I don't care what it may be."

"Why—I'll have some dinner," I said; "whatever I can get—I don't care what it is."

"Good," answered the Russian; and, turning to the girl, who had remained listening to our dialogue, but totally at a loss to imagine its drift,

"Good," replied the Russian; and, turning to the girl, who had stayed listening to our conversation, but was completely confused about what it was about,

"Kött! kött!" he exclaimed.

“Meat! Meat!” he exclaimed.

"Visserligen," said the girl, and walked away with her tall coffee-pot and tray; but, stopping when she had reached the door, she looked back as if some other idea, which she had altogether forgotten, suddenly presented itself to her mind, and she asked,

"Sure," said the girl, and walked away with her tall coffee pot and tray; but, stopping when she reached the door, she looked back as if some other idea, which she had completely forgotten, suddenly came to her mind, and she asked,

"Farkött?"

"Farkött?"

The little Russian understood her directly, and told me she desired to know if I would have some 'farkött,' mutton. I undertook the [Pg 176]task of answering for myself, and exclaimed aloud, with striking brevity,

The little Russian understood her right away and asked me if I wanted some 'farkött,' mutton. I took on the [Pg 176]task of answering for myself and responded loudly, with impressive brevity,

"Ja."

"Yes."

My pretty Hebe laughed outright, and left the apartment to seek the mutton.

My beautiful Hebe laughed out loud and left the room to look for the mutton.

In ten minutes she reappeared smiling; and brought me not only what I asked for, but three or four potatoes in the bargain. I pointed to them. Nodding her head, as if she understood I meant to say "How kind of you to bring those too," she said,

In ten minutes, she came back smiling and not only brought me what I asked for, but also three or four extra potatoes. I pointed to them. Nodding her head as if she understood I meant to say, "How nice of you to bring those too," she said,

"Goot."

"Good."

"Ja; manga goot," I answered in a dialect of my own. She hurried away laughing heartily; but did not forget to glance at me over her shoulder as she passed out of the room.

"Yeah, very good," I replied in my own way. She rushed off, laughing hard, but didn't forget to look back at me over her shoulder as she left the room.

Crossing, on my way home, a bridge which is thrown over one of the many canals that intersect Gottenborg in all quarters, I stumbled against an old watchman. In one hand he held the formidable "Morning Star," or truncheon, and in the other hand an implement of chastisement, of which I could make out no decisive classification, at least, so I fancied; and, led away by that fancy, I drew near to the unsleeping Swede. I requested him, as courteously and distinctly as I possibly could in tattered English and with original signs, that he would permit me to take a bird's-eye view of the instrument. It was a stick four or five [Pg 177]yards in length, to the end of which two pieces of iron were attached in the shape of a heart. The implement may be drawn thus:

Crossing a bridge on my way home that spans one of the many canals crisscrossing Gothenburg, I bumped into an old watchman. He held a menacing "Morning Star," or truncheon, in one hand, and in the other, a tool of punishment that I couldn't quite identify, at least, that’s what I thought; and, distracted by that thought, I approached the ever-watchful Swede. I politely and clearly asked him, as best as I could in my broken English and with gestures, if he would let me take a closer look at the tool. It was a stick about four or five [Pg 177] yards long, with two pieces of iron attached at the end, shaped like a heart. The tool can be drawn like this:

Suppose Charley finds cause that a thief, who may be rather swifter of foot than himself, should be taken into custody: he proceeds after the following fashion. The instrument is seized hold of in the right hand, or both hands, firmly, at the end A, and, giving the stick the full benefit of his arm's length, the watchman runs along in the purloiner's wake. Having approached sufficiently near to guarantee a certainty of success, he thrusts the ingenious instrument either at the calves, or neck of the flying thief; and the point B coming in contact with the calf, or the nape of the neck, opens, and admits the leg, or head into the centre C, and the sides D and E, being elastic, instantly close again, the centre C being adapted to fit a man's neck, or leg, and no more. The most careless reader may easily perceive the relative positions of the guardian and the breaker of the Law, when the former is at the extremity A, the latter in the centre C, and the advantage one has obtained, without risk of injury to himself, of throwing the other to the ground, should he prove restive. The [Pg 178]watchman was as much amused by observing me, as I was by scrutinizing his wand of office.

Suppose Charley wants to catch a thief, who might be quicker on his feet than he is: he goes about it like this. He grabs the device firmly with one hand or both at point A and, using his full arm’s reach, the watchman runs after the fleeing thief. When he's close enough to ensure he can succeed, he thrusts the clever device either at the thief's calves or neck; when point B makes contact with either the calf or the back of the neck, it opens up to let the leg or head into the center C, and the elastic sides D and E immediately snap closed again, with center C designed specifically to fit a man's neck or leg, and nothing else. Even the most casual reader can easily see the positions of the guardian and the lawbreaker: the former is at point A, the latter is in center C, and the watchman has the advantage of being able to throw the thief to the ground without risking his own safety if the thief resists. The [Pg 178]watchman was just as entertained by watching me as I was by examining his tool of authority.

On Monday morning I was present at a review of the Horse Artillery. The men went through their various evolutions, loading and discharging their guns without ball or powder, by applying a walking-cane, in lieu of a fusee, to the touch-hole, and, then, shouting aloud to imitate the report of cannon.

On Monday morning, I attended a review of the Horse Artillery. The soldiers performed their various maneuvers, loading and firing their guns without any ammunition, using a walking stick instead of a firing mechanism on the touch-hole, and then shouting loudly to mimic the sound of cannon fire.

At the upper part of the town of Gottenborg is a road, curving like a crescent, sheltered on each side by trees, growing at equal distances from one another, under the shade of which are benches where the traveller may rest when tired, and enjoy the cool air, perfumed, as it sometimes is, with the pleasant odour of flowers abounding in the nursery gardens on either side of the road.

At the top of the town of Gottenborg, there's a winding road that curves like a crescent, lined with trees spaced evenly apart. Beneath their shade are benches where travelers can sit and rest when they're tired, enjoying the cool air, which is sometimes fragrant with the lovely scent of flowers from the nursery gardens on both sides of the road.

The noon of day had come with intense sultriness, and, feeling fatigued, I walked towards this shady grove, with the intention of passing an hour there, in the full enjoyment of my own thoughts, or in listening to any zephyr which might be sighing among the young leaves of the elm and cherry. Between the trunks of the trees I saw the stooping figure of a man creeping slowly, by the aid of a stick, under the thickly leaved boughs. He was dressed much after the manner of some of our English farmers, with knee breeches, white stockings, and shoes fastened over the instep with a large silver buckle. A short drab coat, and a scarlet [Pg 179]felt hat, something like a cardinal's, with large flaps, completed his costume. After a while the man crawled, rather than walked, towards one of the benches, and sat down.

The noon hour had arrived with intense humidity, and feeling tired, I made my way to this shady grove, intending to spend some time there, fully enjoying my thoughts or listening to any gentle breeze that might be whispering among the young leaves of the elm and cherry trees. Between the trunks of the trees, I noticed a hunched figure of a man moving slowly, using a stick for support, beneath the thick branches. He was dressed somewhat like some of our English farmers, in knee-length pants, white stockings, and shoes fastened over the top with a large silver buckle. A short drab coat and a red felt hat, somewhat resembling a cardinal's, with large flaps, completed his outfit. After a while, the man crawled, rather than walked, toward one of the benches and sat down.

He was apparently seventy, or eighty years of age. His long, silvered hair strayed down over the collar of his coat; and the soft languor of his light blue eye imparted a sad impression to his countenance, which, when he was young, must have been eminently handsome. He smiled as I approached, and seemed desirous that I should take a seat by his side, for he moved nearer to the end of the bench to make more room. The day being hot, as I have said, I received the hint, hoping by doing so to find entertainment, at least, and, perhaps, information. Soon as I had taken my seat the old man touched his hat, and bowed low as his infirmities would permit, and,

He looked like he was in his seventies or eighties. His long, silver hair fell over the collar of his coat, and the soft heaviness in his light blue eyes gave his face a sad look that, when he was younger, must have been very attractive. He smiled as I approached and seemed eager for me to sit next to him, shifting closer to the end of the bench to make more space. Since it was a hot day, as I mentioned, I took the hint, hoping to find at least some entertainment, maybe even some insight. As soon as I sat down, the old man tipped his hat and bowed as low as he could manage, and,

"Hur mår Herren?" he said. Knowing sufficient of the Swedish language to understand that he asked me how I was, I answered in the same tongue, and, in compliment to himself,

"Hur mår Herren?" he said. Knowing enough of the Swedish language to understand that he was asking me how I was, I answered in the same language, and, as a compliment to him,

"Bra, Gud ske låf;" which four words I intended should intimate my gratitude to Heaven that I was well. The old man appeared pleased, that I should make reply to him in Swedish, and no doubt deemed me no deficient linguist; for, observing my eyes were wandering over the beautiful landscape, undulating with corn-fields, and terminating by gentle hills [Pg 180]clothed with the beech and elm, he ventured to say,

"Thank God;" which four words I meant to express my gratitude to Heaven that I was okay. The old man seemed happy that I replied to him in Swedish, and he probably thought I was a pretty good speaker; because, noticing my eyes were drifting over the beautiful landscape, rolling with cornfields and ending with gentle hills [Pg 180] covered in beech and elm, he took a chance to say,

"Det är ett vackert land."

"It's a beautiful country."

I knew he alluded to the pretty appearance of the country; but I was anxious to inform him that I did not understand the Swedish language sufficiently well to carry on a conversation, and, at the same time, to fall as decently as possible from the height on which I had placed myself by the grammatical answer I had previously given, and which I had accidentally learned by listening to the salutations and ordinary replies of our pilots. I therefore curtly said,

I knew he was referring to how beautiful the countryside looked; however, I wanted to let him know that I didn't understand Swedish well enough to hold a conversation, and I also wanted to gracefully backtrack from the high ground I had put myself on with the grammatical response I had given earlier, which I had learned just by listening to the greetings and typical replies of our pilots. So, I just said,

"Ja."

"Yeah."

A light seemed to stream across the old man's expressive features, and he asked, leaning forward to catch my words, whence I had come;

A light appeared to shine on the old man's expressive face, and he leaned in, trying to hear my words, asking where I had come from;

"Hvarifrån kommer Ni?"

"Where are you from?"

"Jag kommer från England," I answered.

"I'm from the UK," I said.

The old man rose from his seat, and said, in tolerable English, that he was glad to see me, (at which I was also delighted) and then begged, like all the inhabitants of Northern Europe, that I would shake hands with him. I did so, and taking my hand in his, he clapsed it firmer than I imagined he could, and looked into my face.

The old man got up from his seat and said, in decent English, that he was happy to see me, (which I was also happy about) and then asked, like everyone from Northern Europe, if I would shake hands with him. I did, and taking my hand in his, he gripped it tighter than I thought he could and looked into my face.

"You are not French?" he observed inquiringly.

"You’re not French?" he asked curiously.

"I am not."

"I'm not."

[Pg 181]"Then I am glad," and he pressed my hand again; then letting it drop, continued:

[Pg 181] "I'm really glad," he said, squeezing my hand again. Then, he let it drop and carried on:

"I speak English, sir, but badly; and, yet, I always address an Englishman, and read an English book when I can get it, and, this one, in particular;" holding up to my view an old black book I had not observed.

"I speak English, sir, but not very well; still, I always talk to an Englishman and read an English book whenever I can, especially this one," holding up an old black book I hadn’t noticed before.

"May I see it?" I said, and, taking the volume from his hand, a Bible fell open at the 8th chapter of Solomon's song. These two verses were marked by a line being drawn down the margin.

"Can I take a look?" I asked, and as I took the book from his hand, a Bible opened to the 8th chapter of Solomon's song. These two verses were highlighted by a line drawn down the margin.

"Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for Love is strong as death; Jealousy is cruel as the grave: the coals thereof are coals of fire, which hath a most vehement flame. Many waters cannot quench Love, neither can the floods drown it: if a man would give all the substance of his house for Love, it would utterly be contemned."

"Place me as a seal on your heart, like a seal on your arm: for Love is as strong as death; Jealousy is as harsh as the grave: its sparks are fiery coals, with a very intense flame. Many waters cannot extinguish Love, nor can the floods drown it: if someone were to give everything he owned for Love, it would be completely disregarded."

"You read, sir?" he said interrogatively; and, putting on his spectacles, glanced over my shoulder.

"You read, sir?" he asked, tilting his head; and, putting on his glasses, he peeked over my shoulder.

"Ah! sir, fifty-eight years ago, I was young like you, and it was then I noted those two verses. You are young," he continued, "and perhaps have loved."

"Ah! Sir, fifty-eight years ago, I was young like you, and that’s when I noticed those two lines. You’re young," he continued, "and maybe you’ve loved."

"No," I replied; "Heaven has not given me the opportunity of participating in one of its most essential blessings."

"No," I replied; "Heaven hasn't given me the chance to experience one of its most essential blessings."

"Then, sir, Heaven has blessed you," he said. "I am old, you see; but I am alone in the [Pg 182]world. Love has made me solitary." He sighed.

"Then, sir, you’ve been blessed by Heaven," he said. "I’m old, as you can see; but I’m alone in the [Pg 182]world. Love has left me lonely." He sighed.

The old man seemed overcome with grief, and, desirous though I now was to hear his story, I dreaded to renew a sorrow, the intensity of which Time had not lessened. He drew forth in silence from his bosom, a miniature, suspended from his neck by a black ribbon, and with shaking hands he touched a spring, and held it unclapsed before me. It was the likeness of a girl about seventeen years of age. A loose robe partially covered her shoulders, and, the elbows resting on a kind of slab, her right cheek was cradled on the back of the left hand, the fingers of which touched her throat; and she looked, with laughing, light blue eyes, over her left shoulder. Her hair, parted slightly on one side, clustered in ringlets above a full, fair forehead; while a melancholy expression about her small, compressed mouth seemed to counteract the joyousness of the upper part of her countenance. The resemblance to the old man was striking.

The old man seemed deeply saddened, and while I was eager to hear his story, I was afraid to bring back a sorrow that time hadn’t eased. He quietly took out a miniature from beneath his shirt, hanging from a black ribbon, and with trembling hands, he pressed a clasp and held it out to me. It was a portrait of a girl around seventeen years old. A loose robe partially draped her shoulders, and with her elbows resting on a kind of slab, her right cheek rested on the back of her left hand, the fingers gently touching her throat; she looked back over her left shoulder with laughing, light blue eyes. Her hair, slightly parted on one side, formed ringlets above her fair forehead, while a sad expression on her small, pressed lips seemed to contrast with the joyfulness of her eyes. The resemblance to the old man was striking.

"Sixty years ago, sir, I first saw that face, and it is as fresh in my memory as if I had only seen it yesterday. It was a face once to look on, to dream of for ever."

"Sixty years ago, sir, I first saw that face, and it’s as clear in my memory as if I had just seen it yesterday. It was a face you could gaze at and dream about forever."

"It is very beautiful," I said, still gazing on the picture. "Was she your daughter?"

"It’s really beautiful," I said, still looking at the picture. "Was she your daughter?"

"Oh! no, sir, no. Would to God she had been!" the old man mournfully replied. "When, sir, I first saw that fair young [Pg 183]creature, I was eighteen years of age, and she might have been seventeen. Endeavouring in vain to suppress the emotions which her beauty and amiable temper caused in my heart, I ventured one day to tell the father of Thora Rensel, for that was her name, the love I bore his daughter. Eric Rensel listened; and, when I had told my tale in words as fervent as my feelings, he replied, 'Engelbert Carlson, my daughter's hand is uncontrolled as her heart; win the girl's affections, and I will not stand in the way of your union.' I thanked Rensel with a grateful heart, and went forth to seek Thora.

"Oh! no, sir, no. I wish she had been!" the old man said sadly. "When I first saw that beautiful young [Pg 183]girl, I was eighteen, and she was probably seventeen. I tried in vain to hide the emotions that her beauty and kind nature stirred in my heart. One day, I decided to tell Thora Rensel's father— that was her name—about my love for his daughter. Eric Rensel listened, and after I spoke with all the passion I felt, he replied, 'Engelbert Carlson, my daughter's heart is as free as her will; win her affections, and I won’t stand in the way of your union.' I thanked Rensel sincerely and set out to find Thora."

"Do you see yonder hill?" said my narrator, pointing in the direction of a hill skirting some corn-fields before us; "there, close to that clump of elm-trees, stood Eric Rensel's cottage. Descending that hill, I met Thora, returning homewards, laden with a little basket full of fruit and flowers. She smiled when she observed me, and held out her hand, as she always did, in token of friendship. I hastened towards her, and, seizing the offered hand, pressed it warmly, and would have raised it to my lips, but I had not the courage.

"Do you see that hill over there?" my narrator asked, pointing to a hill next to some cornfields in front of us. "Right by that group of elm trees, Eric Rensel's cottage used to be. As I came down the hill, I ran into Thora, who was on her way home, carrying a little basket filled with fruit and flowers. She smiled when she saw me and reached out her hand, as she always did, as a sign of friendship. I rushed over to her, took her hand in mine, and held it warmly. I wanted to kiss it, but I didn't have the courage."

"'Are you not well, Engelbert?'" she said, in a gentle tone, "'for your hand trembles;'" and she took hold of my hand with both of hers, and looked round inquiringly into my averted face.

"'Are you not feeling well, Engelbert?'" she said, in a gentle tone, "'because your hand is shaking;'" and she took my hand with both of hers and looked around curiously at my turned-away face.

[Pg 184]"'Yes, Thora,'" I replied; "'I am ill at heart, and I can find relief nowhere else but when I am near to you. I have endeavoured for the many months since I have known you, to hide my grief, or forget my pain; but the more I have exerted myself to do so, the keener felt my sorrow, and deeper still I probed the wound.'

[Pg 184]"'Yes, Thora,'" I replied; "'I feel really down, and I can only find comfort when I'm close to you. For the past several months since I've known you, I've tried to hide my sadness and forget my pain; but the more I've tried, the more intense my sorrow has become, and I've dug even deeper into my wounds.'

"'Alas! and why should grief, or pain be yours, Engelbert, when virtue has been attendant on you always.'"

"'Alas! Why should you, Engelbert, experience grief or pain when virtue has always been by your side?'"

"'Sit down here, on this stone, and listen for a little while to me, dear Thora.'"

"'Sit down here on this stone and listen to me for a bit, dear Thora.'"

"I led her to a large stone by the roadside, which is there to this hour, and we both sat down together. The day, sir, was bright as this; and the corn waved, as it does now, to each breath of wind, and over our heads, among the trees, the birds were warbling. Ah! even now, at this distance of time—in my old age—the tear comes to my eye, and my heart heaves and swells to the memory of that happy, happy day.

"I brought her to a big stone by the roadside, which is still there today, and we both sat down together. The day, sir, was as bright as it is now; and the corn swayed, just like it does now, with every breeze, and above us, in the trees, the birds were chirping. Ah! even now, after all this time—in my old age—the tears come to my eyes, and my heart feels full with the memory of that happy, happy day."

"'Hitherto, to me, dear Thora,' I said, "'life has brought no changes of excessive pain, or pleasure; for at an early period I lost both my parents, and, being then but young, I never knew the sweet joys of home. Forced to struggle with men for independence, and, tossed about whichever way the waves of fortune pleased, my heart soon became indifferent to every gentle feeling; and, in my isolation, I [Pg 185]never thought to seek for sympathy, but desired, by my industry, to live in competency, and, at the last, to leave the world as I had been sent into it, alone.'"

"'Until now, dear Thora,' I said, 'life hasn’t brought me much pain or pleasure; early on, I lost both my parents, and being young at that time, I never experienced the comforting joys of home. I had to fight for my independence, and with the ups and downs of fortune, my heart quickly became indifferent to any gentle feelings. In my solitude, I [Pg 185]never thought to seek sympathy, but instead wanted to live independently through my hard work, and ultimately, to leave the world as I came into it, alone.'"

"The tears began to flow down Thora's face, and, nestling closer to me, she placed her hand on my arm, and murmured,

"The tears started streaming down Thora's face, and, cuddling closer to me, she put her hand on my arm and whispered,

"'Dear Engelbert!'"

"Dear Engelbert!"

"'One evening, my own Thora, relieved from daily toil, I was sitting, as now, under that beech-tree, enjoying the cool evening air, heeding and listening to the sweet sights and sounds of life, and musing with softened spirit on all that had occurred to me since my dear parents' deaths, when I heard the gentle footstep of some one behind me. I turned, and, by the light of the full moon, saw a female figure approaching the spot where I was. With beating pulse I kept my eyes fixed on the form; but I soon gazed with delight on what my fluttering heart then almost bade me shun, and now droops with desire to take as its own. It was you.'"

"One evening, my beloved Thora, free from the daily grind, I was sitting, just like now, under that beech tree, enjoying the cool evening air, soaking in the beautiful sights and sounds of life, and reflecting on everything that had happened to me since my dear parents passed away, when I heard the gentle footsteps of someone behind me. I turned, and by the light of the full moon, I saw a woman approaching the spot where I was. My heart raced as I kept my eyes fixed on her form; but soon, I found myself gazing with delight at what my fluttering heart initially urged me to avoid, and now longs to claim as its own. It was you."

"She replied not; and her head gradually turned from me. I raised the hand I still held, and, in a moment of passionate feeling, pressed it to my lips, and kissed it ardently. She immediately withdrew her hand, but seemed not altogether offended; for a smile—but oh! how sad and prophetic of what was to occur—passed over her beautiful face.

"She didn’t respond, and her head slowly turned away from me. I raised the hand I was still holding, and in a moment of intense emotion, pressed it to my lips and kissed it deeply. She immediately pulled her hand away but didn’t seem entirely upset; a smile—oh! how sad and foreshadowing of what was to come—crossed her beautiful face."

"'Dear Thora!'" I exclaimed, "'do not [Pg 186]torture me. Pardon me, if, in giving expression to the sweet but painful feelings which obscure my brow with sorrow, I offend you; but I love you, dear Thora; and, the first moment I saw you, I felt you were the only created thing which could revive my torpid soul; and, you, I could have fallen down and worshipped.'"

"'Dear Thora!'" I exclaimed, "'don't [Pg 186]torture me. Please forgive me if, in trying to express the sweet but painful feelings that weigh heavily on my heart, I upset you; but I love you, dear Thora; and from the moment I first saw you, I knew you were the only person who could awaken my numb soul; and I could have fallen to my knees and worshipped you.'"

"'Do not, do not speak so, Englebert,'" she said; and, taking my hand in hers, folded it warmly to her heart. I thought, as she lifted her eyes fondly to my face, I observed a tear trickling down her cheek; and the quick movement of her heart, against which my hand was still clasped, told of all that was contending there."

"'Please, don’t say that, Englebert,'" she said; and, taking my hand in hers, she pressed it warmly against her heart. I noticed, as she gazed at me with affection, a tear rolling down her cheek; and the rapid beating of her heart, against which my hand was still resting, revealed everything that was going on inside her.

The old man ceased for a few minutes, and the tears began to course each other down his face. He then said:

The old man paused for a few minutes, and tears started to stream down his face. He then said:

"It may seem strange to you, sir, that one, so old as I am, can feel so deeply and so long; but, though of a quiet temperament, I was prone in my youth to be acutely sensible of pain or joy, however much I concealed my emotions. I remember, when I was a mere child, my mother's chiding would grieve me for many days together, and I used to hear her wondering what the cause of my grief could be. She was wont then, sometimes, to call me sulky. How, sir, the characters of children are misunderstood, and how the heart, at that tender time, is trifled with, to bring remorse in after life;—but, sir, to my story.

"It might seem odd to you, sir, that someone as old as I am can feel so deeply and for so long; but even though I'm generally calm, I was very sensitive to pain and joy when I was younger, no matter how much I tried to hide my feelings. I remember when I was just a child, my mother's scolding would upset me for days, and she would often wonder what was bothering me. Sometimes she would even call me sulky. Oh, sir, how often the true nature of children is misinterpreted, and how their hearts, at that delicate age, are toyed with, leading to regret later in life;—but, sir, back to my story."

[Pg 187]"In the summer of 1758 a French vessel arrived at Gottenborg, and on board were several young Frenchmen possessing many worldly advantages, and much personal grace. One, in particular, was remarkable for the liveliness of his disposition, and beauty of form. His name was Adolphe de Lacroix.

[Pg 187]"In the summer of 1758, a French ship arrived in Gothenburg, carrying several young Frenchmen who had many worldly advantages and were quite charming. One, in particular, stood out for his lively personality and attractive appearance. His name was Adolphe de Lacroix."

"By accident Adolphe saw Thora; and hers was a countenance which could not be looked on with apathy. De Lacroix saw and loved, or fancied that he loved. It would be useless, sir, to occupy your time, and increase my own pain, by relating with the garrulity of old age all that happened after the arrival of M. de Lacroix; but it is sufficient to tell you, that, he sought the affections of Thora, gained them, and married her."

"By chance, Adolphe spotted Thora, and her face was impossible to look at without feeling something. De Lacroix saw her and fell in love, or at least thought he did. It would be pointless, sir, to waste your time and amplify my own suffering by recounting every detail that followed M. de Lacroix's arrival, but it’s enough to say that he pursued Thora’s love, won her over, and married her."

The speaker stopped in his narrative, and, taking from his pocket a small packet of three letters, selected one from it, and, with tears still rolling down his cheek, showed it to me.

The speaker paused in his story, and, pulling a small packet of three letters from his pocket, picked one out and, with tears still streaming down his cheek, showed it to me.

"In this letter, Thora," he said, "told me of her marriage. I read it then, but I have never read it since."

"In this letter, Thora," he said, "told me about her marriage. I read it at the time, but I haven't read it again since."

Observing me cast a glance at the other two letters,

Observing me take a look at the other two letters,

"And these two," he continued, "brought the intelligence of my father's and mother's deaths. I keep them all together."

"And these two," he continued, "brought the news of my parents' deaths. I keep them all together."

When I had read, or attempted to read, Thora's letter, which was written in the [Pg 188]Swedish language, I returned it to the old man; and, folding it carefully with the other letters, he tied the little parcel with a piece of tape, and placed it in his bosom again.

When I had read, or tried to read, Thora's letter, which was written in the [Pg 188]Swedish language, I gave it back to the old man. After folding it carefully with the other letters, he tied the small bundle with a piece of tape and put it back in his pocket.

"If, sir, my story is pleasing to you," observed the old man, "I will go on with it; for though the repetition gives me pain, its acuteness is relieved when I murmur, as I do now, to some one who will listen kindly like you."

"If, sir, my story is enjoyable to you," the old man remarked, "I'll continue; because even though repeating it pains me, it becomes a bit easier when I share it with someone who listens kindly, like you."

"I am sorry," I replied, "that you should feel so deeply in making me acquainted with the earlier period of your life; for I have attended with pleasure to your tale."

"I’m sorry," I replied, "that you feel so strongly about sharing that earlier part of your life with me; I’ve really enjoyed listening to your story."

The old man peered with a sorrowful expression in my face, and, brushing away a tear with his hand, continued:——

The old man looked at me with a sad expression and, wiping away a tear with his hand, kept going:——

"Two years had passed away since Thora had been wedded, and the time was Autumn. Almost on this very bench I rested, listening to the merriment of men and women who were gathering winter-apples in the orchard yonder. Divided between the study of this old Bible, and the recollection of the happy hopes which Thora had once raised in my heart, a sense of desolation crept so utterly over me, that I could read and think no longer, and, closing the book, I bowed my head, and burst, like a child, into tears. This attitude of excessive grief arrested the attention of two passengers, a lady and a gentleman, whom I had not seen, and who, moved by my youth, no doubt, and vehement sorrow, [Pg 189]came near to where I sat weeping; and, placing her hand gently on my shoulder, a woman, in a soft and kind tone of voice, desired to know my grief. Though two years had sadly laid waste my heart, my memory had not forgotten the source of all its affliction; and the sweet, clear tones of the voice were so familiar to my ears, that I raised my head quickly. In an instant my tears ceased; through my whole frame, passed, like a cold wire, an aching chill, which, when it subsided, left me faint and weak, and I could hardly stand.

"Two years had gone by since Thora got married, and it was Autumn. Almost on this very bench, I was sitting, listening to the laughter of people gathering winter apples in the orchard over there. Caught between reading this old Bible and remembering the happy dreams Thora had once inspired in me, a deep sense of despair overwhelmed me so completely that I could no longer read or think. I closed the book, bowed my head, and cried like a child. My visible grief caught the attention of two passersby, a man and a woman, whom I hadn’t noticed before. Moved by my youth and intense sorrow, [Pg 189] they approached me. The woman gently placed her hand on my shoulder and, in a soft and kind tone, asked me about my sadness. Though two years had sadly ravaged my heart, I hadn’t forgotten the source of my pain; the sweet, clear sound of her voice was so familiar that I quickly lifted my head. In an instant, my tears stopped; an aching chill passed through me like a cold wire. When it faded, I was left feeling faint and weak, barely able to stand."

"It was Thora who had spoken to me. Standing, motionless, for a few minutes in front of M. de Lacroix, Thora buried her face in her hands, and then fell almost insensible into the arms of her husband. I did not like to offer my assistance in restoring her, and stood aloof, prepared to perform any office which her husband might think necessary. Thora soon recovered; and when her hand was lifted to arrange her disordered hair, I saw a little ring, still encircling her finger, which I had, in token of our mutual plight, given to her years before. My wounded heart at its sight began to bleed again; but Thora, expressing a wish to M. de Lacroix that she might return home, bowed to me with a forced smile and swimming eyes, and I was spared the humility of showing how incompetent I was to conceal my tears. As Thora walked away from me, [Pg 190]I could not help casting a lingering look towards a form that I once knew at distance, however great, and that I had thought to have called my own. I resumed my seat, and, giving expression to my anguish with sighs and tears, I did not stir till evening roused me from my trance of wretchedness. Length of time, sir, flew fast away, and heaped cares upon my head; but the recollection of my youthful days was vivid still as ever. No day dawned without a thought of Thora.

"It was Thora who had spoken to me. Standing still for a few minutes in front of M. de Lacroix, Thora buried her face in her hands, then fell almost unconscious into her husband's arms. I didn’t want to offer my help in reviving her, so I stayed back, ready to support whatever her husband might think necessary. Thora soon regained her composure; and when she raised her hand to fix her messy hair, I noticed a little ring still on her finger, a token I had given her years ago to symbolize our shared struggles. My heart ached at the sight of it again, but Thora, expressing a desire to M. de Lacroix to go back home, gave me a forced smile and teary eyes, and I was spared the humiliation of showing how unable I was to hide my tears. As Thora walked away from me, [Pg 190] I couldn’t help but cast a lingering look at the figure I once knew from afar, which I had thought would be mine. I resumed my seat, expressing my anguish through sighs and tears, and didn’t move until evening pulled me out of my state of misery. Time flew by quickly, piling up worries on my shoulders, but the memories of my youthful days remained as vivid as ever. Every day began with a thought of Thora."

"One winter's evening I sat alone over my cheerless hearth, gazing vacantly on the glowing embers, when a coal fell from a mass of others which had formed themselves into a hollow body in the fire, leaving a tinge of deeper red over the spot, in the midst of which the letter, T, appeared indistinctly, fading and reappearing for some time, till, at last it became as visible as the mark I make with my stick on this sand. Another coal was driven suddenly with a loud noise, into the middle of the room, and the little cavity collapsed. No sooner had I risen to throw the coal into the grate again, than a gentle tap at my door attracted my attention. I thought it might be my fancy, or the wind; but the visitor seemed determined to gain admittance, and the tap was renewed a little louder than at first. Rising, I opened the door, and an old woman, who had been Thora's nurse, stood before me; and, with bitter lamentations, she placed a small [Pg 191]note in my hand. It brought the dreadful tidings of Thora's sudden death.

"One winter evening, I sat alone by my dull fireplace, staring blankly at the glowing embers, when a coal fell from a bunch that had formed a hollow shape in the fire, leaving a deeper red spot where the letter 'T' appeared faintly, flickering in and out for a while, until it finally became as clear as the mark I make with my stick on this sand. Suddenly, another coal was propelled with a loud thud into the middle of the room, causing the little hollow to collapse. As I got up to put the coal back in the grate, a gentle knock at my door caught my attention. I thought it might just be my imagination or the wind; however, the visitor was insistent, and the knock came again, a bit louder this time. I stood up, opened the door, and there was an old woman, who had been Thora's nurse, standing in front of me. With deep sorrow, she handed me a small [Pg 191]note. It contained the terrible news of Thora's unexpected death."

"The mournful fact soon flew from end to end of Gottenborg, for Thora was much loved; and people whispered that she had died unfairly. This conjecture grew so strong, that a few days after her burial, Thora's body was taken from the tomb, and, after the minutest examination, no cause could be found to account for her death, but the Will of Heaven.

"The sad news quickly spread throughout Gottenborg, as Thora was deeply loved; and people whispered that she had died unfairly. This suspicion grew so strong that a few days after her burial, Thora's body was taken from the grave, and after a thorough examination, no reason could be found to explain her death, except for the Will of Heaven."

"A year came and went; and M. de Lacroix, wearied of his lonely condition, married again. He did not live happily with his second wife; and, from angry words, they were wont to come to blows. To be brief, sir, Madame de Lacroix, died as suddenly and mysteriously as my poor Thora. Suspicion showed a more audacious front than it had done on the previous occasion, and M. de Lacroix was arrested for murder. The loud cries of Madame de Lacroix, heard the day before her death, were sufficient to put M. de Lacroix on his trial.

"A year passed by, and M. de Lacroix, tired of being alone, remarried. He wasn't happy with his second wife, and their arguments often turned physical. To sum it up, Madame de Lacroix died as suddenly and mysteriously as my poor Thora. This time, suspicion was even bolder than before, and M. de Lacroix was arrested for murder. The loud screams of Madame de Lacroix, heard the day before her death, were enough to put M. de Lacroix on trial."

"Either from contrition, or some other cause of fear or hope, M. de Lacroix confessed that the death of Thora had been brought about by his own hand. It seems, sir, by some act of the basest depravity, Heaven permits that the fallen condition of man should be forced, at intervals, on our minds, to show the necessity of keeping in subjection the vicious propensities of our thoughts and deeds; for, unless it be so, I [Pg 192]can in no way solve the reckless abandonment of all human feeling in the breast of M. de Lacroix. Ever afterwards, from the day I met Thora accidentally on this spot, her husband gave way to fits of frequent jealousy and anger; and a home, which had been one of harmony and joy, was then converted into a den of contention and the bitterest acrimony. In one of these domestic brawls, M. de Lacroix resolved to murder his beautiful wife; and the plan he devised to accomplish his purpose was as novel as it was diabolical.

"Whether out of guilt or some other fear or hope, M. de Lacroix admitted that he had caused Thora's death himself. It seems, sir, that through some act of the lowest depravity, Heaven allows us to be reminded, at times, of the fallen state of man, to highlight the importance of controlling the harmful tendencies of our thoughts and actions; because without this, I [Pg 192] cannot explain the complete disregard for all human emotion in M. de Lacroix. From the day I unexpectedly met Thora here, her husband fell into frequent fits of jealousy and rage; and a home that had once been filled with harmony and joy turned into a battleground of conflict and bitter animosity. During one of these domestic fights, M. de Lacroix decided to kill his beautiful wife, and the scheme he came up with to carry out his plan was as innovative as it was evil."

"In the dead of night, when the young and innocent Thora was folded in profound sleep, M. de Lacroix arose, and, going to a small box, took thence a needle not larger than those in ordinary use, but of greater length. Returning to the bed where Thora still lay, breathing with the long, heavy respiration of slumber, he leaned over her, and the moment he did so, and but for a moment, a low, spasmodic cry was heard, a slight struggle shook the bed, and all was hushed as before. M. de Lacroix had driven the needle into Thora's heart! Wiping with his finger the trifling drop of blood which oozed from the puncture, he effaced all trace of violence from the body."

"In the dead of night, when the young and innocent Thora was deep in sleep, M. de Lacroix got up and went to a small box, taking out a needle that was no larger than a regular one but longer. He returned to the bed where Thora lay, breathing steadily in her slumber. Leaning over her, at that moment, a low, spasmodic cry was heard, a slight struggle shook the bed, and then everything went quiet again. M. de Lacroix had plunged the needle into Thora's heart! Wiping away the tiny drop of blood that oozed from the puncture with his finger, he erased all evidence of violence from her body."

The old man paused; and, drawing a handkerchief from his pocket, hid his face in it, and, from the convulsive movement of his shoulders, I could see he was weeping bitterly, though in silence.

The old man stopped for a moment; then, taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he covered his face with it, and from the shaking of his shoulders, I could tell he was crying hard, even though he was silent.

[Pg 193]"So ends, sir," with faltering accents the old man soon continued, "the cause of all my misery. I am old now, and yet in my old age I keep fresh the feelings of my youth; and, therefore, I wander hither every day to gaze upon the blue sky, and bask in its warmth; but never to forget her whose loss has made oblivion a desire, and created the hope, that, Death be an eternal end of sensibility."

[Pg 193]"So this is it, sir," the old man continued with shaky words, "the reason for all my suffering. I'm old now, yet even in my old age, I hold onto the feelings of my youth. That's why I come here every day to look at the blue sky and soak up its warmth; but I can never forget her, whose absence has turned forgetting into something I long for, and has given rise to the hope that death will be the final end of feeling."

The old man ceased to speak. The solemn manner, and the earnest tones in which he had told this sad episode of his life, made a deep impression on me; and when I looked on his frame, bent more by sorrow than with age, and saw the settled gloom of an inward grief shadowing a countenance, on which length of years and rectitude of conduct should have left the lines of happiness and mental peace, I felt how unable was virtuous thought, or strength of intellectual refinement, to secure, even, the love of life's young day, or to soothe the anguish of its loss; and, unresistingly, I yielded to the remembrance of hope's passionate farewell to joys, once dreamed of, before the world's strange knowledge fell with grief's canker on the bloom of my own heart.

The old man stopped speaking. The serious way he shared this sad chapter of his life left a strong impact on me; when I looked at his body, more hunched by sorrow than age, and saw the deep sadness of an inner grief clouding a face that, after so many years of living well, should have shown signs of happiness and peace, I realized how powerless good thoughts or intellectual strength are to secure even the love of youth, or to ease the pain of its loss. Without resistance, I surrendered to the memory of hope's passionate farewell to joys once dreamed of, before the world's harsh truths cast a shadow of grief over my own heart.

The old man rose to go. When I had assisted him from his seat, he took my hand, and, sadly, wished me farewell. I watched him a long time, wending his way slowly homeward through the corn-fields; and, when his form [Pg 194]was hid from sight, I could just see his head above the blades of corn, and his silvery, white hair shining, like a wreath of snow, in the slanted rays of the setting sun.

The old man stood up to leave. After I helped him get up from his chair, he took my hand and, with a heavy heart, said goodbye. I watched him for a long time as he made his way slowly home through the cornfields; and when his figure [Pg 194] disappeared from view, I could still see his head above the corn stalks, his silvery white hair shining like a crown of snow in the angled rays of the setting sun.

About six o'clock, when returning to the yacht, I heard the beating of drums and discharge of cannon, the howling of dogs, the screams and lamentation of women, and, now and then, rising above the general din, the shrill blast of trumpets. As I approached nearer to the water-side, the rigging, even to the mast-heads of the different ships in the harbour and canals was crowded with sailors, who, clinging by one leg, or one arm, to the ropes, strove with outstretched necks, to catch a glimpse of some extraordinary deed to be, or being done. Presently a troop of horse-soldiers trotted by me; and it was with some difficulty I could escape being trod under foot by these impatient riders. Everybody seemed mad. One Swede, with slippered feet, without hat or coat, rushed past me with so much impetuosity, that he was like to throw me to the ground; and, seizing him by his flying shirt-sleeve, I remonstrated against his carelessness. He gave no heed to my anger, but continued headlong in his flight, and left a fragment of his linen in my possession. The maniac speed and bearing of the man reminded me of a story which is told of the Calif Hegiage, who, having by his cruelties rendered himself hateful to his subjects, one day, on a [Pg 195]journey, met an Arabian of the Desert, and asked him, among many other things, what kind of a man the Calif was, of whom so much was said?

About six o'clock, as I was heading back to the yacht, I heard the sound of drums and cannon fire, dogs barking, women screaming and crying, and occasionally, above the general noise, the sharp sound of trumpets. As I got closer to the water, I saw sailors crowding the rigging and mastheads of the various ships in the harbor and canals, clinging with one leg or one arm to the ropes, straining their necks to catch a glimpse of some amazing event happening or about to happen. Soon, a group of horse soldiers rode past me, and I had to dodge them to avoid getting trampled by these eager riders. Everyone seemed out of their minds. One Swedish man, in slippers and no hat or coat, rushed past me so forcefully that he nearly knocked me over. I grabbed him by the sleeve of his flapping shirt to express my frustration about his recklessness. He ignored me and kept running, leaving a piece of his shirt in my hand. His wild speed and demeanor reminded me of a story about the Calif Hegiage, who, after becoming hated by his people due to his cruelty, once encountered a Bedouin in the desert and asked him, among other things, what kind of man the Calif was, since so much was said about him.

"He is no man," replied the Arabian; "but a monster."

"He is not a man," replied the Arabian; "he's a monster."

"Of what do his subjects accuse him?" asked the Calif.

"Of what are his subjects accusing him?" asked the Calif.

"Of the most inhuman barbarities," answered the indignant Arabian.

"Of the most inhumane acts," replied the outraged Arabian.

"Have you ever seen him?" demanded Hegiage.

"Have you ever seen him?" Hegiage asked.

"No," the other replied.

"No," the other person replied.

"Look at him now!" said the Calif; "for it is to him you speak."

"Check him out now!" said the Calif; "because it's him you're talking to."

The Arabian, without betraying the least sign of fear or surprise, fixed his eyes on him, and said,—"And you, sir, do you know who I am?"

The Arabian, showing no sign of fear or surprise, locked his gaze on him and said, "And you, sir, do you know who I am?"

"No," replied the Calif.

"No," replied the Californian.

"I am of the family of Zobair," the Arabian continued, "all whose descendants are infected with madness one day in the year; and this is my mad day."

"I belong to the family of Zobair," the Arabian continued, "all of whose descendants go a bit insane for one day each year; and this is my mad day."

The faster I walked to that part of the town where the yacht lay, the denser became the crowd of people; and I met regiments of foot-soldiers and troops of cavalry scampering in every direction, as if Gottenborg were besieged by a hundred thousand men, or the sun had slipped, when setting, and fallen in the market-place. A fat Swede, who stood [Pg 196]demurely smoking his pipe, attracted my attention by the indifference of his manner in the general confusion; and, noting the sagacity of his little, roguish, blue eye, which he blinked as frequently as he blew the smoke, in a horizontal spire, from his mouth, I asked him what the uproar meant.

The faster I walked to the part of town where the yacht was, the thicker the crowd became; I saw groups of foot soldiers and cavalry rushing around in every direction, as if Gottenborg were under siege by a hundred thousand men, or the sun had set and fallen into the marketplace. A chubby Swede, standing off to the side and smoking his pipe, caught my attention with his calm demeanor amid the chaos. Noticing the clever little spark in his blue eyes, which he blinked as often as he blew smoke into the air, I asked him what all the commotion was about.

"Eld, eld," he said; and that was all the explanation I could obtain from him. However, I soon discovered the cause of the hubbub; for, following the direction of the people's eyes, I saw, elevated higher than its fellows from the roof of an older house, an old chimney ejecting volumes of the sootiest smoke, and causing the inmates to toss beds, blankets, chairs, tables, and, even, their darling pipes out of the windows. I immediately understood the alarm of the inhabitants of Gottenborg. A chimney was on fire.

"Eld, eld," he said; and that was all the explanation I could get from him. However, I soon figured out what was happening; because, following where the people were looking, I saw an old chimney on top of an older house, spewing out huge amounts of thick, black smoke and making the people inside throw beds, blankets, chairs, tables, and even their favorite pipes out of the windows. I immediately understood why the people of Gottenborg were so alarmed. A chimney was on fire.

The conflagrations in Sweden and Norway have been so extensive and frightful of late years, that the natives of those two countries regard them as the most dreadful scourges of Odin, Thor, or Frey; and adopt every precaution they possibly can, in their primitive way, to prevent a fire, or to allay its fury when one does break out. I am not surprised at their consternation, for many of the houses are entirely built of fir, which is very inflammable; and a fire must bring a very fearful catastrophe to such a crowded town as Gottenborg where you can shake hands from an attic window with your opposite neighbour.

The recent fires in Sweden and Norway have been so widespread and terrifying that the people in those countries see them as the worst curses from Odin, Thor, or Frey. They take every possible precaution, in their simple way, to prevent a fire or to control its rage when one does start. I understand their fear, as many houses are made entirely of fir, which burns easily; a fire would lead to a catastrophic disaster in a crowded city like Gothenburg, where you can shake hands with your neighbor from an attic window.

[Pg 197]In half an hour, long before the trumpery apparatus counterfeiting the shape of a fire-engine, or the water-buckets of the Corporation wrenched from the custody of locks and iron gates, could be made to act, the old chimney exhausted itself; and, at the moment when one unhappy broken-winded engine spirted a small quantity of water into a window of the first story only, the house having five stories, a column of clear blue smoke shot straight up, from the chimney-pot into the air, with the quietude and ease of a good joke. The chimney actually seemed to have got up the smoke for a jest. The folks of Gottenborg, however, did not view the matter in the same light as I did; for the bands of the different regiments, that had been called together, by sound of trumpet, to put out the fire, were mustered in a large square, and, in the presence of a vast multitude, played a psalm, in token of the whole nation's gratitude to Heaven, that Gottenborg had been spared the ancient fate of Sodom and Gomorrah.

[Pg 197]In half an hour, long before the flashy equipment pretending to be a fire engine, or the water buckets from the city, which had been pried away from locked gates, could be used, the old chimney ran out of smoke; and just as one exhausted fire engine squirted a tiny bit of water into a window on the first floor of the five-story building, a column of clear blue smoke rose effortlessly from the chimney pot into the sky, almost like a good joke. It really felt like the chimney was putting out the smoke for a laugh. However, the people of Gothenburg didn't find it funny; the various regiments, summoned by trumpet call to extinguish the fire, gathered in a large square and, in front of a huge crowd, played a psalm in gratitude to Heaven for sparing Gothenburg from the ancient fate of Sodom and Gomorrah.

The wind veering round to the south, had blown the yacht farther from the quay than when I left it in the morning. While conjecturing how I should get on board, D—— came on deck, and said, if I would jump, I should find no difficulty in reaching the vessel. King Philip, of yore, once wrote to the Lacedæmonians in the following manner:—"If I enter your territories, I will destroy everything with [Pg 198]fire and sword." To this terrible menace, the Lacedæmonians answered only by the word, "If." I certainly felt like a Lacedæmonian, and gave D—— credit for all the confidence of the Macedonian monarch. I was rowed on board in the jolly-boat.

The wind turned south, pushing the yacht further from the dock than it had been when I left in the morning. While I was trying to figure out how to get on board, D—— came up on deck and said that if I jumped, I'd have no trouble reaching the boat. King Philip once wrote to the Spartans, saying, "If I enter your land, I'll destroy everything with fire and sword." To this scary threat, the Spartans replied simply with, "If." I definitely felt like a Spartan and credited D—— with all the confidence of the Macedonian king. I was rowed on board in the small boat.

A mob of many hundred persons surrounded the quay where the Iris was moored, charmed by the symphony of Jerome's fiddle, or astounded by the vociferous melody of the crew, as they tossed off a couplet or two of

A crowd of several hundred people gathered around the dock where the Iris was anchored, captivated by the music from Jerome's fiddle, or amazed by the loud singing of the crew as they sang a couple of verses of

"Rule Britannia!"

"Rule Britannia!"

and then chanted with the recitative energy of truth,

and then chanted with the passionate energy of truth,

"And there we lay, all the day,
 In the Bay of Biscay, O!"

"And there we stayed, all day long,
In the Bay of Biscay, oh!

On Sunday morning, R—— and P—— returned, unexpectedly, from Trolhättan, and, when they entered the cabin, they were so powdered with dust, and smeared with mud, that I hardly recognized them. They would not, at first, tell me the cause of their dirty plight, but I contrived to hear the whole account from King, who had accompanied them in the capacity of valet. When they arrived at Trolhättan, on Saturday afternoon, being wearied, they strove to find some cottage where they might sleep, but failed; and it was, therefore, determined to visit the Falls, snatch a hasty meal, and return to Gottenborg the same evening. Having beheld the awful [Pg 199]cataract, and eaten their humble dinner, at set of sun they started.

On Sunday morning, R—— and P—— unexpectedly came back from Trolhättan and, when they entered the cabin, they were so covered in dust and smeared with mud that I could hardly recognize them. They wouldn't initially explain how they had gotten so dirty, but I managed to get the full story from King, who had accompanied them as their valet. When they got to Trolhättan on Saturday afternoon, they were tired and tried to find a cottage to sleep in, but they couldn’t. So, they decided to visit the Falls, grab a quick meal, and return to Gothenburg that same evening. After seeing the impressive [Pg 199] waterfall and eating their simple dinner, they set off at sunset.

The moon was bright, and, not having climbed half way up the Heavens, surety of her light was promised throughout the night. The strict enforcement of the laws had cleared the roads of robbers, and no ill was to be feared from bears or wolves, for the approach of summer had driven these animals to the farthest highlands of the kingdom to seek for food and coolness.

The moon was bright, and since it hadn’t even climbed halfway up into the sky, her light was guaranteed to shine throughout the night. The strict enforcement of the laws had cleared the roads of thieves, and there was nothing to fear from bears or wolves, as the arrival of summer had pushed these animals to the farthest highlands of the kingdom in search of food and cooler temperatures.

With minds at ease, then, and drowsy by the process of digestion, R—— and P——, hushed by the rolling of the carriage, fell fast asleep. The night crept on, and the moon began to go down on the other side of the sky, and, still, R—— and P—— slumbered; and, moreover, their pleasant snores, invading the ears of King, accustomed only to the lusty roar of ocean, soon enticed him with a stupefying influence from his watchful attitude on the box, and laid his head in similar forgetfulness on the shoulder of the coachman.

With their minds relaxed and feeling sleepy from digestion, R— and P—, lulled by the movement of the carriage, quickly fell asleep. The night passed, and the moon began to set on the other side of the sky, yet R— and P— continued to snooze. Their pleasant snores, unusual for King who was used to the lively roar of the ocean, soon had a calming effect on him, causing him to drop his watchful posture on the box and rest his head in a similar daze on the shoulder of the coachman.

They might have slept for three hours, and King and the coachman for two, when the unguided carriage gave a violent jolt, a loud creak, a revolving motion, and fell, wheels uppermost, on the road-side. King awoke in an instant, but too late to resist being plunged to the top of a high, irritable bramble hedge that showed him no mercy, while R—— and P—— found themselves, in a state of perfect [Pg 200]sensibility, on their knees and hands in a dry but deep ditch, with the cushions, the empty drawers, little pieces of old carpet, and all the other interior appointments of their travelling carriage piled mysteriously on their backs and the napes of their necks.

They might have slept for three hours, and King and the coachman for two, when the unsteady carriage jolted violently, creaked loudly, spun around, and landed upside down on the roadside. King woke up instantly, but it was too late to stop himself from being thrown into a high, thorny bramble hedge that was unforgiving. Meanwhile, R—— and P—— found themselves, completely disoriented, on their knees and hands in a dry but deep ditch, with cushions, empty drawers, scraps of old carpet, and all the other contents of their traveling carriage piled awkwardly on their backs and necks.

The riddle was soon solved. The horses being sensible of what was restraint and what was not, felt the reins dangling about their hocks, and, having had no food since they left their stables at Gottenborg, walked to the wayside, and began to crop the grass; but, as mindless of the vehicle at their tails, as desirous to swallow the green fare before their eyes, they approached too near the gutter, and one wheel, sliding plump into it, drew the other three wheels after, and immediately caused the accident I have mentioned.

The riddle was quickly solved. The horses, aware of what was holding them back and what wasn't, felt the reins hanging around their hind legs. Since they hadn't eaten since leaving their stables in Gottenborg, they walked to the side of the road and started to graze on the grass. However, being completely unaware of the vehicle behind them and eager to enjoy the green food in front of them, they got too close to the ditch. One wheel slipped right into it, pulling the other three wheels along and immediately causing the accident I just mentioned.

With its tributary streams, a branch of the river Gotha flows through the main street, and lesser thoroughfares of Gottenborg; and along the banks are planted rows of trees, which give the town a lively appearance. As I crossed the bridges, I saw, on floating platforms, a shoal of washerwomen scouring and thrashing lustily, with an instrument like a shuttle, the wardrobe of their customers. When I first arrived at Gottenborg, I thought myself in Holland, the mode of dress, and aspect of the town bearing so close a resemblance to Rotterdam.

With its tributary streams, a branch of the river Gotha flows through the main street and smaller roads of Gottenborg; along the banks, rows of trees are planted, giving the town a vibrant look. As I crossed the bridges, I saw, on floating platforms, a group of washerwomen energetically scrubbing and beating their customers' clothes with a tool that looked like a shuttle. When I first arrived in Gottenborg, I felt like I was in Holland, as the clothing style and the appearance of the town were so similar to Rotterdam.

On Tuesday morning, the 1st of June, at [Pg 201]eleven o'clock, just one month after our departure from Greenwich, we left Sweden for Norway. The time had glided pleasantly and speedily away; and, wherever we had gone, kindness and hospitality always awaited us. We had brought from England few letters of introduction, and, at some places where we went, on our first arrival, knew no one; but here, as here at Gottenborg, not many hours would elapse before the doors of these simple and generous hearted people were opened to us; and, the greatest delight was evinced, when we entered their houses.

On Tuesday morning, June 1st, at [Pg 201] eleven o'clock, just a month after we left Greenwich, we departed Sweden for Norway. Time had passed quickly and pleasantly, and wherever we went, we were always met with kindness and hospitality. We had taken very few letters of introduction from England, and in some places we arrived at, we didn’t know anyone at first; but here, as in Gottenborg, it wouldn’t take long before the doors of these simple and warm-hearted people would open for us, and there was great joy expressed when we stepped into their homes.

Gottenborg was founded by the great Gustavus Adolphus. The town is situated, like all the towns of Scandinavia, on a fiord of its own name, sleeping with all the placid beauty of a lake; but there is so much monotony in the romantic position of the Swedish and Norwegian towns, that, to describe one is to describe all. There are one or two fine buildings in Gottenborg; and the many villas in its neighbourhood, invariably bosomed in thickly wooded valleys, urged me to remember an old tradition among the Swedish Laplanders, which has not been lost on the Swedes. They maintain the Swedes and the Lapps were originally brothers. A storm burst; the Swede was frightened, and took shelter under a board, which God made into a house; but the Lapp, unappalled, remained without. Since that time, the Swedes dwell in houses, but the Lapps under the bare sky.

Gottenborg was founded by the great Gustavus Adolphus. The town is located, like all the towns in Scandinavia, on a fjord of its own name, resting with all the calm beauty of a lake; but there’s so much sameness in the picturesque locations of the Swedish and Norwegian towns that describing one means describing them all. There are a couple of impressive buildings in Gottenborg; and the many villas in its vicinity, always surrounded by lush wooded valleys, reminded me of an old tradition among the Swedish Laplanders, which hasn’t been forgotten by the Swedes. They claim that the Swedes and the Lapps were originally brothers. A storm hit; the Swede got scared and took shelter under a board, which God turned into a house; but the Lapp, unfazed, stayed outside. Since then, the Swedes have lived in houses, while the Lapps remain under the open sky.

[Pg 202]What Venice was to ancient Italy, Gottenborg was to Sweden, the national mart; but Time, with ravages and alterations, has swept away its traffic. A Swedish fisherman told me, that the herrings, which used to be so plentiful in the adjacent waters, are now scarcely to be caught; and Gottenborg feels the defection of their extensive sale. The same man asserted, that our ships of war, going up the Baltic, were wont to fire salutes, and the noise had driven the fish away. The fisherman made this statement so roundly, that I could not have the heart to tell him how incredulous I was; but, when I got on board the yacht, I repeated the circumstance, as a jest, to the sailor who stood at the gangway to receive me.

[Pg 202]What Venice used to be for ancient Italy, Gottenborg was for Sweden, the national marketplace; but time, with its wear and changes, has diminished its trade. A Swedish fisherman shared with me that the herrings, which were once so plentiful in the nearby waters, are now hardly ever caught; and Gottenborg is feeling the impact of their loss in sales. The same fisherman claimed that our warships, sailing up the Baltic, used to fire salutes, and the noise scared the fish away. He made this statement so confidently that I couldn't bring myself to tell him how skeptical I was; but when I got back on the yacht, I recounted the story as a joke to the sailor waiting at the gangway to greet me.

"Well, your Honour," replied the man, after listening with attention to my narrative, "he arn't put his helm too hard a-port."

"Well, your Honor," replied the man, after listening carefully to my story, "he hasn't turned his helm too far to the left."

"What!" I said, "do you intend to tell me you believe that a salute will frighten herrings, from this fiord, or any other fiord, so that they never return?"

"What!" I said, "are you really telling me you think a salute will scare herrings away from this fjord, or any other fjord, so that they won’t come back?"

"Why, your Honour," answered the sailor, touching his hat, "I must run alongside this ere foreigner, and sequeeze [acquiesce] with him like; for when I was aboard the Racehorse, sloop o' war, we fired a salute off the Western coast of England, and I'm blowed, your Honour, if they didn't ax Sir Everard to cease the hullabaloo."

"Well, Your Honor," replied the sailor, adjusting his hat, "I need to go alongside this foreigner and get along with him because when I was on the Racehorse, a sloop of war, we fired a salute off the western coast of England, and I swear, Your Honor, they actually asked Sir Everard to stop the noise."

"Why?" I asked.

"Why?" I asked.

[Pg 203]"Ay; your Honour," said the credulous tar, "that's just what I'm bearing up to—why, your Honour, bekase we frightened away the pilchards! May I never lift another handspike if that ain't gospel, that's all your Honour!"

[Pg 203]"Yeah, your Honor," said the gullible sailor, "that's exactly what I'm trying to say—because we scared off the pilchards! I swear I won't lift another handspike if that's not the truth, your Honor!"

"You be hanged!" I muttered.

"You'll be hanged!" I muttered.

"What! your Honour," exclaimed the man, warming with his faith, "have you never heerd, that the report of a cannon will make a lobster shake off his big, starboard claw?"

"What! Your Honor," exclaimed the man, getting fired up with his conviction, "have you never heard that the sound of a cannon can make a lobster drop its big right claw?"

"No, nor you either," I answered walking away; for I thought the man was striving to palm off a joke.

"No, not you either," I replied as I walked away; I figured the guy was trying to pull off a joke.

"Ay; but it's gospel your Honour," I heard the man reply; and, I believe, sailors do hand down to each other a tradition of that kind; for there is a figure of speech, and it is nothing more, with which the English men-of-war's men used to hail the lobster smacks going up the Thames.

"Yes, but it's the truth, your Honor," I heard the man respond; and I believe sailors pass down stories like that to each other; because there’s a saying they use, and it’s nothing more than that, which the English sailors used to shout to the lobster boats heading up the Thames.

"Smack a-hoy! hand us a few lobsters, or—you know what'll happen!"

"Hey there! Give us some lobsters, or—you know what will happen!"







CHAPTER XI.

RETURN TO NORWAY—SAIL UP THE GULF—APPROACH TO CHRISTIANIA—ITS APPEARANCE FROM THE WATER—ANECDOTE OF BERNADOTTE—DESCRIPTION OF THE CITY—THE FORTRESS—CHARLES THE XIITH—THE CONVICTS—STORY OF THE CAPTURED CANNON—THE HIGHWAYMAN—PROSPECT FROM THE MOUNTAINS—THE NORWEGIAN PEASANT GIRL.

RETURN TO NORWAY—SAIL UP THE GULF—APPROACH TO CHRISTIANIA—ITS APPEARANCE FROM THE WATER—ANECDOTE OF BERNADOTTE—DESCRIPTION OF THE CITY—THE FORTRESS—CHARLES THE XIITH—THE CONVICTS—STORY OF THE CAPTURED CANNON—THE HIGHWAYMAN—PROSPECT FROM THE MOUNTAINS—THE NORWEGIAN PEASANT GIRL.


Wednesday dawned cloudless; and the round, red Sun rose on our right hand, and glared through his magnifying lattice, the mist, to see us come back again to Norway.

Wednesday dawned clear; the round, red Sun rose to our right and shone through its magnifying lens, cutting through the mist, eager to see us return to Norway.

The smooth and glassy surface of the tideless Fiord, hemmed in by lofty mountains, stands forth the grand characteristic of Norway. The weather-beaten rocks, rising abruptly from the water, have beauty and boldness on their broad, blank fronts; and how infinite is the loveliness of innumerable islands, clustered together, bearing vegetation of all hues and odours!

The smooth and glassy surface of the calm fjord, surrounded by tall mountains, is a standout feature of Norway. The rugged rocks, rising steeply from the water, exhibit beauty and strength on their wide, bare faces; and the charm of countless islands, clustered together and showcasing vegetation of every color and scent, is truly endless!

Whether it were in the air which I breathed, or whether it were caught from the solemn magnificence of the scenery, the same feeling of sublimity came over me as when I first saw the [Pg 205]land of Norway on my arrival from England; and, I do not know how to account for the impression, but during the whole time I remained in Norway, and whenever I was left alone to wander along its fiords, or over its mountains, I gave way, as in England, to no extreme sensations of delight or sorrow; but a consciousness of awe weighed eternally upon my mind, and, released from the tumultuous passions of joy or dejection, a desire, created as it were by the visible perception of perfect natural beauty, was ever present to embody itself with the sights of grandeur that soared and sank above and below me.

Whether it was in the air I breathed or whether it came from the solemn beauty of the scenery, the same feeling of awe washed over me as when I first saw the [Pg 205]land of Norway upon arriving from England. I can't explain this feeling, but throughout my stay in Norway, and whenever I had the chance to wander alone along its fjords or over its mountains, I didn't experience wild feelings of joy or sadness as I did in England. Instead, a sense of wonder constantly lingered in my mind, and free from the chaotic emotions of happiness or sadness, a longing arose from witnessing the sheer natural beauty that surrounded me, always ready to connect with the grandeur that soared above and below me.

Silently, as if without a breath of wind, the cutter crept up the Gulf, the beauties of which increased the farther we advanced; the bays—the vessels glancing among the rocks with their white sails in the sun—the cultivated patches of land—and the neat wooden farm-houses amid the desolation of the mountains, were novel and interesting objects. The great variety of the underwood, and the diversified colours of the foliage, were beautifully blended with the darker tints of the fir which grew along the sides, and on the tops, of the high hills; and how well does their sombre gloom mate with the stern magnificence of the rocks!

Silently, as if there was no breeze, the cutter moved up the Gulf, where the beauty increased the further we went. The bays, the boats shimmering among the rocks with their white sails in the sunlight, the cultivated patches of land, and the tidy wooden farmhouses amidst the mountain desolation were all new and intriguing sights. The wide variety of underbrush and the different colors of the leaves brilliantly contrasted with the darker shades of the fir trees growing along the sides and tops of the high hills; and how perfectly their dark gloom matched the rugged magnificence of the rocks!

On the islands, the birch, the hazel, the alder, and the ash, cast their shadows over the water, and are there reflected in their minutest lineaments; nor are their trunks and branches [Pg 206]more sharply defined in the air above, than they are imaged in the watery mirror below, the transparency of the water in no way yielding to the clearness of the atmosphere; since, as the abruptly-rising rocks tower proportionally into the air, their steep, bold sides are plunged perpendicularly into the sea, and seem to descend till the eye loses them in its green depth.

On the islands, the birch, hazel, alder, and ash trees cast their shadows over the water, and you can see their tiniest details reflected; their trunks and branches [Pg 206] are just as clearly defined in the air above as they are in the watery mirror below, with the water's transparency matching the clarity of the atmosphere. The steep, towering rocks rise sharply into the sky, plunging vertically into the sea, and seem to disappear until they are lost in the green depths below.

Here and there the islands are inhabited by peasants; and flocks of sheep and goats ceased, as the yacht passed them, to browse on the low herbage which springs beneath the rocky coppice; and before the cottage-doors half-clad children stood still, and gaped, then called aloud to fishermen who were hanging out their nets to dry, or setting them for fish around the shores of their sea-girt homes.

Here and there, the islands are home to farmers; and flocks of sheep and goats stopped grazing on the low grass growing under the rocky bushes as the yacht went by. In front of the cottage doors, half-dressed children stood still, staring, then shouted to fishermen who were hanging their nets out to dry or setting them for fish around the shores of their sea-surrounded homes.

Beyond this, nowhere are seen or heard the sights or sounds of man's habitation, and, hushed in painful tranquillity and profound solitude, the interior recesses of the fiord show no signs of life. With all their storm-beaten antiquity, gaunt and inhospitable, the skeletons of land rather than the land itself,—the grey and rugged crags—alone appear between the coppice and the short scanty grass which, ever when the wind came to breathe gently on our sails, sighed and moaned amid the general repose.

Beyond this, there are no signs of human life anywhere to be seen or heard, and, wrapped in painful stillness and deep solitude, the inner parts of the fjord show no signs of life. Despite their weathered age, stark and unwelcoming, the bare rock formations look more like the remains of land than the land itself—the grey and rough cliffs stand alone between the brush and the sparse short grass that, whenever the wind would gently touch our sails, sighed and moaned amid the overall calm.

About twenty miles from Christiania the fiord [Pg 207]narrows to two miles, and holds that breadth up to the city. The town of Christiania is hid by a small island from the sight of the traveller approaching it by water; but at a great distance we could, while winding up the fiord, catch a glimpse of the white houses sleeping in a valley, surrounded by high mountains. At eight o'clock in the afternoon—for there is not much night—we dropped anchor off the town.

About twenty miles from Christiania, the fjord [Pg 207] narrows to two miles and stays that width all the way to the city. A small island blocks the view of Christiania for travelers coming in by water; however, from a distance, we could see the white houses nestled in a valley, surrounded by high mountains as we wound through the fjord. At eight o'clock in the evening—since there isn't much night—we dropped anchor off the town.

Christiania stands low; but the land slopes gradually from the shore of the fiord till it loses itself on the hazy tops of the mountains. When the sky is partially obscured by masses of clouds, the appearance of Christiania, seen from the deck of a vessel in the harbour, is very beautiful; that part of the town, near the water, shining brightly in the sunlight, while the remoter suburbs, at the back, being canopied by the heavy vapours that hang around the peaks of the mountains, look black as night.

Christiania is situated at a low elevation; however, the land gradually rises from the shore of the fjord until it disappears into the misty mountain peaks. When the sky is partly covered by thick clouds, the view of Christiania from a ship in the harbor is quite stunning; the area of the town close to the water glimmers brightly in the sunlight, while the farther suburbs in the background, shrouded in the dense fog around the mountain tops, appear dark as night.

As soon as the anchor was let go, we went ashore, as usual, to make inquiries about salmon; and received as much encouragement as at Falkenborg and Kongsbacka. The time, however, had not yet quite arrived when the salmon-fishery commenced; and a few days devoted to Christiania would not debar us from any amusement attached to the long-desired sport. We brought several letters of introduction; and, among them, one to the Viceroy of Christiania; but we did not [Pg 208]present our letter to the old Count, all the information and hospitality we desired being amply given to us by the British Consul-General.

As soon as the anchor was dropped, we went ashore, as usual, to ask about salmon, and we got as much encouragement as we did at Falkenborg and Kongsbacka. However, it wasn't quite the right time for salmon fishing yet; spending a few days in Christiania wouldn't stop us from enjoying the long-awaited sport. We brought several letters of introduction, including one to the Viceroy of Christiania, but we didn’t [Pg 208]present our letter to the old Count, as the British Consul-General provided us with all the information and hospitality we needed.

There is nothing to see in Christiania, the most conspicuous object being the palace, which stands, like a manufactory, on the top of a rising piece of ground. It is an enormous pile of building, painted uniformly white; and I do not believe the interior is more commodious than the exterior is monotonous and void of architectural taste, since the late King, Bernadotte, once observed, when he entered it, that he saw a multitude of rooms, but would be glad to know which apartment he was to live in.

There’s not much to see in Christiania; the most noticeable structure is the palace, which rises like a factory on a hill. It’s a massive white building, and I doubt the inside is any more comfortable than the outside is dull and lacking in architectural style. This was something the late King Bernadotte pointed out when he visited—he noted that he saw a lot of rooms but would like to know which one he was supposed to stay in.

The same kind of mirrors that I had seen at Copenhagen and Gottenborg projected outside the windows here, so that no one need move from his chair to know all that occurs in the street; and this is also an important exemption, for the casements of nearly all the houses in Christiania are double, for the purpose of warmth. Large archways lead to larger yards, into which the houses open, and street-doors are almost dispensed with. Neither do the buildings ascend to any great altitude, but two stories are, for the most part, considered the orthodox height. The shop windows are not gay, and the name and pursuit of their owners are badly lettered, and in hieroglyphics I could not read.

The same type of mirrors I saw in Copenhagen and Gottenburg projected outside the windows here, so no one has to get up from their chair to see everything happening on the street; this is also a significant perk since almost all the houses in Christiania have double windows for insulation. Large archways lead to bigger yards that the houses open into, and street doors are almost unnecessary. The buildings aren't very tall; two stories is generally seen as the standard height. The shop windows aren’t bright or colorful, and the names and professions of their owners are poorly written and in symbols I couldn't decipher.

The largest open place is the market, and [Pg 209]that is not so large as Covent Garden. The streets are a little better paved than those of the more southern capitals of the North, but are not of greater width than Coventry Street, or St. Martin's Lane; and, being unlighted by gas, it is difficult at night, should it prove rainy and dark, to keep out of the gutters. At the point where four streets meet, you may generally observe a well, and around this well a knot of idlers, men and women, congregate and gossip, leaning against its palings; but the respectable portion of the inhabitants are never to be found in the streets, although they may be seen, on summer evenings, walking on the terrace of the fortress.

The biggest open area is the market, and [Pg 209]it's not as large as Covent Garden. The streets are a bit better paved than those in the southern northern capitals, but they're not wider than Coventry Street or St. Martin's Lane. Since they're not lit by gas, it can be hard to avoid the gutters at night, especially if it's rainy and dark. At the intersection where four streets meet, you can usually find a well, and around it there's a group of people, both men and women, hanging out and chatting while leaning against the railings. However, the more respectable residents are rarely seen in the streets, though you might catch a glimpse of them walking on the fortress terrace during summer evenings.

To one looking from the sea, the fortress is on the left of the town, and was the first object we caught sight of when sailing up the Fiord. It is valueless as a place of defence; and I do not think it has been of any service to the Norwegians, except when Charles XII. attacked Christiania; and, then the Swedish monarch would have battered the town to atoms, had not his attention been distracted by wars on the other frontiers of his kingdom. There is a hill on the right, nearly double the altitude of that on which the fortress is built; and an enemy, making himself master of that spot, has the citadel under his feet, and may amuse himself by rolling stones into the town.

To someone looking from the sea, the fortress is on the left side of the town, and it was the first thing we noticed when sailing up the Fjord. It's useless as a defensive position, and I don't think it has helped the Norwegians at all, except during Charles XII's attack on Christiania. At that time, the Swedish king could have completely destroyed the town if he hadn’t been distracted by conflicts on other borders of his kingdom. There's a hill on the right that's almost twice as high as the one where the fortress stands; if an enemy takes control of that spot, they'll have the citadel right beneath them and can have fun rolling stones into the town.

Running parallel with one part of the Fiord, and from the quay to the castle, is a raised [Pg 210]terrace, broad enough to admit of fourteen or fifteen people walking abreast; and here, on the Sabbath summer's afternoon all the beauty, youth, and fashion of Christiania resort. It is sheltered on one side by a row of lime-trees, and, on the other, the cool air from the waters of the Fiord struggles to refresh the languor of a sultry evening.

Running alongside one part of the Fjord, from the dock to the castle, is a raised [Pg 210] terrace wide enough for fourteen or fifteen people to walk side by side; and here, on a summer Sunday afternoon, all the beauty, youth, and style of Oslo gather. One side is shaded by a row of lime trees, while the other allows the cool air from the Fjord to fight against the heaviness of a hot evening.

In gangs of two and two, with drab slouch hat and jerkin, having one side of a darker colour than the other, and reaching half way down the body, the prisoners are led from their penal den, within this fortress, to their appointed toil. There were many old men among these culprits; and their great age rather sought and met with sympathy, than excited detestation of the crime that had brought them to servitude; and, perhaps, it would be a wiser enactment of the Norwegian Government to forego the system of task-work thus publicly, and adopt some other method of punishment less exposed to the popular eye; for, I believe, the spectacle of an old man submitted to daily penal labour, and burdened with clanking chains, is recognised by the public more with a tendency to sympathise with his fate, than to condemn his crime.

In pairs, wearing dull slouch hats and jackets, with one side a darker shade than the other, reaching halfway down their bodies, the prisoners are led from their prison cells within this fortress to their assigned work. Many of these offenders are elderly; their old age tends to provoke sympathy rather than revulsion for the crimes that have led them to this fate. Perhaps it would be wiser for the Norwegian Government to abandon this public system of task-work and adopt a different form of punishment that’s less visible to the public. I believe that seeing an old man subjected to daily hard labor and weighed down by clanking chains stirs more sympathy for his circumstances than condemnation for his crime.

While viewing the fortress, we were shown a large cannon, which was captured, it is said, by the Norwegians from Charles XII. when he besieged Christiania; but the real history of the cannon is, that it did certainly belong to [Pg 211]the Swedish army; but, Charles, as I have hinted before, being obliged to raise the siege of Christiania to march with his troops elsewhere, many field-pieces, as being too cumbersome to move with celerity, were abandoned, and, among the number, this cannon was left on the heights above Christiania. The Norwegians, when Charles and his army had disappeared, scaled the summit of the hill; and, with much laudable perseverance, succeeded in removing the huge piece of ordnance to the fortress; and two sentinels ever keep guard over it, placed in a conspicuous position over which the Norwegian ensign waves, and point it out to the stranger as a trophy of the Norwegian army.

While visiting the fortress, we were shown a large cannon that, legend has it, was captured by the Norwegians from Charles XII during his siege of Christiania. However, the true story of the cannon is that it actually belonged to [Pg 211]the Swedish army. As I mentioned earlier, Charles had to lift the siege of Christiania to move his troops elsewhere, leaving behind many field pieces that were too cumbersome to transport quickly. This cannon was left on the heights above Christiania. Once Charles and his army had vanished, the Norwegians scaled the hill and, with admirable determination, managed to transport the massive piece of artillery to the fortress. Two sentinels stand guard over it, positioned prominently where the Norwegian flag flies, and they point it out to visitors as a trophy of the Norwegian army.

Contemplating, as we stood round the cannon, the broad expanse of the Fiord, and the distant blue mountains dissolving with the sky, a low building, like a powder magazine, arrested our attention; for numerous sentinels moved rapidly in every quarter round it, and many brass guns, ready primed, and bearing an earnest signification, flashed in the bright beams of the morning sun. In this dungeon, from which Beelzebub himself could not escape, it seems a notorious highwayman, called Ole, is confined. During the time he was master of his limbs and liberty, he struck such terror into the hearts of his countrymen, that he was imagined an immortal fiend. No prisons [Pg 212]could hold him; and the magistrates were compelled to trust to his forbearance, and not to bolts and chains; but his depredations, at length, became so glaring, and increased, year after year, to such magnitude, even to the sacking of the bank, that, come what might, Ole was arrested. Fearful of his supernatural strength and devilish craft, his captors deemed no common dungeon sufficiently secure; and this miserable abode, a pandemonium above ground, bomb-proof, and proof against every thing else, was erected for the sole reception of Ole; and, lest he should burst asunder the stone walls, he is surrounded by alert sentinels and loaded guns, and here doomed to drag out the rest of his existence.

As we stood around the cannon, gazing at the wide expanse of the fjord and the distant blue mountains blending into the sky, we noticed a low building, resembling a powder magazine. Numerous sentinels moved quickly all around it, and many brass cannons, already primed and clearly significant, glinted in the bright morning sun. In this place, which even the devil couldn't escape, a notorious highwayman named Ole is locked up. When he was free and able to roam, he instilled such fear in his fellow countrymen that they thought he was an immortal demon. No prison could hold him; the authorities had to rely on his self-restraint rather than on locks and chains. However, over time, his thefts became so obvious and multiplied yearly to such an extent, even leading to the robbery of the bank, that no matter what, Ole was finally captured. Fearing his superhuman strength and cunning, his captors believed no ordinary prison could keep him secure. So, they built this miserable place, a bomb-proof hell above ground, exclusively for Ole. To prevent him from breaking through the stone walls, he's surrounded by vigilant sentinels and loaded guns, condemned to spend the rest of his life here.

To the east of the town there is a road, which may be seen girdling a mountain's barren side, and, following its track a mile, or so, I took then a narrow foot-path, and, wandering through a forest of firs, reached a circular green sward where, in the middle, the remnant of some natural convulsion, a gigantic black stone lay. Seated there, I beheld the whole city of Christiania crouched at my feet; and, far as the eye could travel, the mountains rose one over the other, till my vision ached, and mistook their aspiring peaks for the azure heaven. On the left hand, serenely sleeping, wound, amid a thousand green islands, the leaden-hued Fiord, bearing on its quiet surface a fleet [Pg 213]of lazy ships, whose white sails made them look, at distance so remote, like snowy swans, or froth from neighbouring rapid.

To the east of the town, there's a road that winds around the bare side of a mountain. After following its path for about a mile, I took a narrow footpath and wandered through a forest of firs until I reached a circular green clearing. In the center, remnants of some natural disaster lay a gigantic black stone. Sitting there, I could see the entire city of Christiania sprawled beneath me, and as far as my eyes could see, mountains rose one after another until they made my vision ache, blurring their towering peaks with the blue sky. To my left, the leaden-colored Fiord peacefully meandered among a thousand green islands, carrying a fleet [Pg 213] of lazy ships. Their white sails made them appear, from such a distance, like snowy swans or froth from nearby rapids.

The sun had just sunk behind the mountains when I reached the spot; and, throwing myself on the grass, I watched its light, like a gold cap, blazing around the lofty summit of a mountain, rearing itself above the rest, and not less than forty miles distant to the north of the hill on which I reclined. The evening was calm as it was clear. The cathedral bells below had thrice told the approaching third hour before midnight, when I heard the voice of some one singing, in the monotonous, drawling, but melodious tone of prayer; and, at last, as the fitful evening zephyr stirred uneasily, I could distinctly catch the soft intonation of a female voice; and, whatever woman she was, she sang a sweet and touching melody.

The sun had just set behind the mountains when I arrived at the spot; and, lying down on the grass, I watched its light, like a golden crown, glowing around the tall peak of a mountain, rising above the others and located about forty miles to the north of the hill where I was resting. The evening was calm and clear. The cathedral bells below had chimed three times, marking the approach of midnight, when I heard someone singing in a monotonous, drawn-out, yet melodic tone of prayer. Finally, as the gentle evening breeze stirred restlessly, I could distinctly hear the soft sound of a woman’s voice; and whoever she was, she sang a beautiful and moving melody.

There was no hut, or building of any kind at hand, so that I was perplexed to tell whence the voice came. I was not long in doubt. A young girl, walking quickly, with a light step, and bearing in her hand a bundle of dried sticks, came forth from the heart of the pine-forest. The moment she saw me her song ceased, and she stood still.

There was no hut or any kind of building around, so I was confused about where the voice was coming from. I didn't stay confused for long. A young girl, walking briskly with a light step and holding a bundle of dried sticks, emerged from deep within the pine forest. As soon as she saw me, her song stopped, and she froze in place.

She wore, sitting rather back upon the head, a crimson cotton skull-cap, leaving exposed her fair high forehead. A boddice of white linen was attached from her waist to a dark blue petticoat, hemmed with scarlet [Pg 214]cloth, which descended to her ankle, but not to such undue length as to conceal her little naked feet, peeping out, like white mice, from beneath. Her silken, fair hair flowed uncontrolled over her right shoulder, off which her boddice, though fitting almost close to the throat, had fallen slightly and left bare; and silver bracelets clasped her wrists, while the image of the Saviour, carved in ivory, was suspended from her neck. A gold ring, antiquely moulded, encompassed her middle finger. She was of the ordinary height of women, and her small mouth, her short, straight nose, her large, joyous blue eye, joyous while yet the clear-complexioned, oval face was clouded with surprise, developed the simplicity, liveliness, and rare beauty of a Norwegian girl.

She wore a crimson cotton skullcap sitting slightly back on her head, leaving her fair high forehead exposed. A white linen bodice was connected from her waist to a dark blue petticoat, hemmed with scarlet cloth, which fell to her ankle but not so low that it hid her little bare feet peeking out like white mice. Her silky, fair hair flowed freely over her right shoulder, where her bodice, though fitting snugly at the throat, had slipped slightly and left that area bare; silver bracelets adorned her wrists, and an ivory carving of the Saviour hung from her neck. A gold ring with an antique design encircled her middle finger. She was of average height for women, and her small mouth, short straight nose, and big, cheerful blue eye—joyful yet her clear-complexioned oval face was marked with surprise—showcased the simplicity, liveliness, and unique beauty of a Norwegian girl.

She gazed at me, fixedly, free from coyness, with the deliberation of an innocent heart; and, when she saw my attention was as much devoted to her, she smiled; and then, often turning round to look back as she went her way, began to descend the hill towards the town. The shrubs and filbert-trees soon took her from my sight.

She stared at me intently, without any shyness, with the certainty of an innocent heart; and when she noticed that I was just as focused on her, she smiled; then, frequently looking back as she walked away, she started to go down the hill toward the town. The bushes and hazel trees quickly blocked her from my view.







CHAPTER XII.

A DRIVE INTO THE INTERIOR—EXTENSIVE AND SUBLIME PROSPECT—NORWEGIAN POST-HOUSES—REPAIR OF THE ROADS—PREPARATIONS FOR DEPARTURE.

A DRIVE INTO THE INTERIOR—EXTENSIVE AND BEAUTIFUL VIEW—NORWEGIAN POST HOUSES—FIXING THE ROADS—GETTING READY TO LEAVE.


On Sunday morning, we went to Krokleven, a spot about twenty miles from Christiania, and celebrated for its scenery. The journey thither was unpleasant enough, for the day was hot, and the roads were dry; and, when the Norwegian started off at the usual speed of his countrymen, the dust, disturbed by the horses' hooves and the carriage wheels, rose in volumes, which overtook and palpably descended upon us, when the driver suddenly halted the career of his steeds at the base of a hill.

On Sunday morning, we went to Krokleven, a place about twenty miles from Christiania, known for its beautiful scenery. The trip there wasn’t very pleasant since it was a hot day and the roads were dry. When the Norwegian set off at the usual pace of his countrymen, the dust kicked up by the horses’ hooves and the carriage wheels rose in clouds, which hit us hard when the driver suddenly stopped his horses at the bottom of a hill.

The road to Krokleven was as tantalizing as it was perfect in sublimity of scenery; for, from several elevated places, we could observe our path creeping along over the mountains, and down the valleys, to the very cottage where we intended to stop.

The road to Krokleven was just as exciting as it was stunningly beautiful; from several high points, we could see our trail winding over the mountains and through the valleys, all the way to the cottage where we planned to stay.

But the same solitude prevailed as on the Fiord; and the silence is the more extreme [Pg 216]when not even the warbling of a single bird is heard to test a particle of animal existence; and nothing meets the sight but the blue sky, the bald heads of the mountains, and the yellow-tinted foliage of the fir and pine. As the traveller rises from one side of a mountain to a corner of the road, where it hurries perpendicularly down the other side, his eye may fathom a valley several thousand feet beneath, rich in vegetation, and surrounded on all points by rugged mountains covered with illimitable forests of fir, through the branches of which, here and there, the grey rocks glare, like skulls scattered over a green field; and the whole view which is thus taken at one glance may extend before, and on either hand of the spectator, over a space of twenty miles.

But the same emptiness lingered as it did on the Fiord; and the silence is even more pronounced [Pg 216] when not a single bird's song is heard to indicate the presence of life; and all that meets the eye is the blue sky, the bare peaks of the mountains, and the yellow-tinted leaves of the fir and pine trees. As the traveler moves up one side of a mountain to a spot where the road drops steeply down the other side, he can see a valley several thousand feet below, lush with vegetation and surrounded on all sides by rugged mountains draped in endless forests of fir. Through the branches, glimpses of grey rocks shine through like skulls scattered across a green field; and the entire scene, visible at a glance, can stretch out before and on either side of the observer for twenty miles.

The forests are so extensive, and the chance of being lost in them is so probable, that on our arrival in the vicinity of Krokleven, we hired a guide. Wandering along a pleasant by-way, shaded by the overhanging boughs of the birch, the pine, and the fir, we scaled a mountain, and gaining its highest elevation, saw, about two thousand feet below us, an immense lake, chequered with islands, unequal in size, on which were farms, and on the largest small villages. Dividing its waters into two equal parts, the road to Bergen lay no broader than a pen-knife's blade, and twisted, far away, like a white thread round the sides of the mountains.

The forests are so vast, and the likelihood of getting lost in them is so high, that when we reached the area near Krokleven, we decided to hire a guide. Strolling along a nice back road, shaded by the overhanging branches of birch, pine, and fir trees, we climbed a mountain. At the top, we looked down about two thousand feet to see a huge lake, dotted with islands of different sizes, where there were farms, and on the largest, small villages. The road to Bergen, splitting the water into two equal halves, was as narrow as a knife blade and wound far away like a white thread around the sides of the mountains.

[Pg 217]From the bosom of the lake along the easy slope of this mighty valley, the ascent of an amphitheatre of mountains, skirting the horizon, takes the eye up to heaven; and while the sun shone brightly, on these mountains, hoary by lapse of centuries and contention with the storm, they seemed, although the nearest was twenty or thirty miles from us, to be tinged with a red colour, which, contrasted with the snow on their summits and the deep azure sky above, against which their huge forms appeared to lean, produced a scene as difficult to delineate as it was sublime to see.

[Pg 217]From the edge of the lake along the gentle slope of this vast valley, the rise of a ring of mountains stretching across the horizon draws the eye up to the sky; and while the sun shone brightly on these ancient mountains worn by centuries and storms, they appeared, even though the closest was twenty or thirty miles away, to be tinged with a red hue. This, contrasted with the snow on their peaks and the deep blue sky above, against which their massive silhouettes stood, created a scene that was as hard to capture as it was breathtaking to behold.

When we had partaken of some salmon and capercaillie, cooked after the Norwegian process—where butter abounded, and had lighted our meerschaums, we went at a gallop homewards. Built by the road-side, many miles apart, the only symbols of mortality to travellers in Norway, are post-houses, stages at which the horses are generally baited, and where a book, under the protection of the Government, is kept to insert the names, occupations, and destination of the persons who alight there, or are travelling through the country. Its pages are divided into four columns, and in the fourth column, the traveller may state any complaint he has to make. At the end of every month, the appointed officers of the State inspect this book, and rectify with severity any errors which may have been brought to their notice.

When we had enjoyed some salmon and capercaillie, prepared in the Norwegian style—with a generous amount of butter—and lit our meerschaums, we headed home at a fast pace. Along the roadside, many miles apart, the only reminders of mortality for travelers in Norway are the post houses, places where the horses are usually rested, and where a government-sanctioned book is kept to record the names, occupations, and destinations of those who stop there or are passing through the country. The book has four columns, and in the fourth column, travelers can note any complaints they might have. At the end of each month, designated state officers review this book and promptly address any issues that have been reported.

[Pg 218]The highways are kept in order by the gentry, farmers, or peasants; and, along the road-side, a number of black posts are erected at certain distances from one another, on which are painted in white characters the names of the persons who are to repair the road, and the number of yards or feet allotted to each of them; and the more extensive the landed possession, or consequence of the man in the neighbourhood, so the quantity of ground which comes under his care. It is obvious how soon the person, neglecting the performance of the duty imposed upon him by the Government, may be detected; and the imposition is effective in keeping the roads in excellent order.

[Pg 218]The highways are maintained by the local landowners, farmers, or laborers; and along the roadside, several black posts are set up at regular intervals, displaying in white letters the names of those responsible for road repairs, along with the number of yards or feet assigned to each person. The larger the landholding or the more important the individual in the area, the more ground they are responsible for. It's clear how quickly someone who neglects their duty assigned by the government can be identified, and this system helps keep the roads in great condition.

Though we returned at a late hour to Christiania, I walked to my old spot on the mountain; and there, looking down towards the vessels that were anchored in the harbour, like toys in a basin, the Norwegian girl, whom I had seen yesterday, stood close to the black stone, her right elbow resting on it, and her chin hid in the palm of her hand. She seemed abashed that I had caught her in such thoughtful guise, and began to move towards the path that led through the forest. I motioned to her, as significantly as I could, not to allow me to disturb her.

Though we got back late to Christiania, I walked to my old spot on the mountain. There, looking down at the boats anchored in the harbor like toys in a basin, I saw the Norwegian girl from yesterday standing by the black stone, her right elbow resting on it and her chin in her palm. She looked a bit embarrassed that I had caught her in such a thoughtful moment and started to move toward the path that led through the forest. I gestured to her, as clearly as I could, not to let me interrupt her.

"Nej, tak," she said, in a low, sweet tone; and, retiring a short space from the stone, with all the delicacy of her tender youth [Pg 219]and sex, and a winning humility of manner, drew back behind me. Retiring, also, a few paces till I was in a line with her, I allowed the huge piece of granite to separate us; and dreading, that, by observing her too attentively, she might go away, I took no apparent notice of her, and kept my eyes fixed on the yacht, which had dwindled to a nutshell in size, with needles for its mast and boom. I could, but indifferently, speak the Norwegian language; and I knew not that she understood mine, though many of the inhabitants of the principal towns of Norway generally possessed a slight knowledge of English; and so, in silence, we stood.

"No, thank you," she said in a low, sweet voice. Stepping back a little from the stone, with all the grace of her youthful femininity and a charming humility, she moved behind me. I also took a few steps back until I was aligned with her, letting the massive piece of granite act as a divider between us. Worried that if I looked at her too closely, she might leave, I pretended not to notice her and kept my gaze fixed on the yacht, which had shrunk to the size of a small shell, its mast and boom looking like needles. I could only speak a little Norwegian, and I wasn’t sure if she understood my language, although many people in Norway's main towns usually had some knowledge of English. So, we stood there in silence.

The mournful sighing of the firs, as a current of air, escaping from the Fiord, crept gently through them, and the quietude that reigned around, inspired me with a feeling of melancholy; and after a while, "Do you understand English?" I asked.

The sad rustling of the fir trees, as a breeze slipped through the Fiord, brushed softly against them, and the stillness that surrounded me filled me with a sense of sadness; after a bit, I asked, "Do you understand English?"

"My father was a sailor, sir," my alabaster, statue-like companion said, sometimes speaking in her own language, and sometimes in mine, with a pretty foreign accent, "and went to England often, and he taught me English; but I do not know it well."

"My dad was a sailor, sir," my pale, statue-like friend said, sometimes speaking in her own language and sometimes in mine, with a lovely foreign accent. "He traveled to England a lot, and he taught me English, but I don't know it very well."

"You soon would speak it as well as I, if every day you tried," I answered, with courage, pleased that I could make her understand me.

"You would be able to speak it as well as I do if you practiced every day," I replied, feeling brave and happy that I could make her understand me.

"But there is no one," she replied, I thought, [Pg 220]in a sad voice, "to speak to me; and I forget all that I have learned. My dear father used to talk to me of England; and I remember still its tongue, because he told me Englishmen were good and great."

"But there’s no one," she said, I thought, [Pg 220]in a sad tone, "to talk to me; and I forget everything I've learned. My dear father used to tell me about England; and I still remember the language, because he said Englishmen were good and great."

She came nearer to the stone, and looking full in my face, smiled.

She stepped closer to the stone and, looking directly at my face, smiled.

"Perhaps," I said, "some one of my countrymen had been kind to your father, and he taught you a lesson too flattering not to disappoint you when you meet an Englishman."

"Maybe," I said, "one of my fellow countrymen was nice to your father, and he gave you a lesson that's too flattering not to let you down when you encounter an Englishman."

"No, sir, I hope not," she answered, raising her little head somewhat proudly; "for an Englishman was kind and good to him: and my father used, for his sake, to pray for England when he prayed for our country, Norway; and he taught me, when a little girl, to do the same."

"No, sir, I hope not," she replied, lifting her little head a bit proudly; "because an Englishman was kind and good to him. My father used to pray for England along with our country, Norway, and he taught me to do the same when I was a little girl."

"And where is your father?" I asked.

"And where's your dad?" I asked.

"He is dead, sir," and the poor girl began to weep, but so quietly, that I was not aware of her grief until the tremulous motion of her hand, in which she had concealed her face, indicated her sorrow, and made me regret that I had asked the question. Recovering her self-possession, she went on to speak, although, without a sob, her tears still flowed abundantly.

"He’s dead, sir," the poor girl started to cry, but so softly that I didn’t realize how upset she was until I saw her hand shaking, which was hiding her face and showed her sadness, making me wish I hadn’t asked. Once she regained her composure, she continued talking, though her tears kept streaming down without a sob.

"This cross," she said, lifting it from her heaving bosom, "my poor father gave, and bade me always wear; for baring his arm one day, he showed a cross tattooed upon the skin, and told me if he died far from his [Pg 221]own home, all barbarous men, even Indians, when they saw that sign, would not let his corpse be eaten by birds or beasts of prey; but bury it."

"This cross," she said, lifting it from her heavy chest, "my poor father gave me and told me to always wear it; because one day, when he rolled up his sleeve, he showed me a cross tattooed on his skin. He said that if he died far from his [Pg 221]home, all savage people, even Indians, would see that mark and wouldn't let his body be eaten by birds or wild animals; instead, they would bury it."

Her delicate frame swelled with strong emotions, and she could scarce contain her loud grief.

Her fragile body was filled with intense emotions, and she could hardly hold back her loud sorrow.

"He died, sir," she continued, "two years ago on the banks of a river near Rio, in South America; and some Indian tribe, in adoration, as he had surely said, to this symbol of our creed, buried him."

"He died, sir," she continued, "two years ago on the banks of a river near Rio in South America; and some Native tribe, in reverence, as he had surely said, to this symbol of our faith, buried him."

She had not yet made an end of speaking, when the sound of the church clocks, ascending faintly, tolled eleven. It was broad daylight; for, though the sun had set, his rays darted in orange-tinted pillars to the centre of the sky, and sustained the glory of his presence. My young and beautiful companion, starting at the sound, wiped away her tears, and seemed to regret the lateness of the hour; and noting each vibration as it fell on her ear, she commenced with her thumb, and then advancing to the tip of each tapering finger, counted, with a whisper in her native language,

She had barely finished talking when the church bells faintly rang eleven. It was bright outside; even though the sun had set, its rays shot up in orange-tinted pillars toward the center of the sky, maintaining the glory of its presence. My young and beautiful companion, startled by the sound, wiped away her tears and seemed to regret how late it was. Noticing each chime as it reached her ears, she started counting with her thumb, then moving to the tip of each slender finger, whispering in her native language,

"En, twå, tre, fyra, fem, sex, sju, åtta, nie, tie,—elfva!"

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten—eleven!"

Her exclamation of surprise and regret that she had remained so long from home, made me strive to soothe her fears. When she was about to hurry away, I begged her to tell me [Pg 222]her name, that I might know what to call her for the future.

Her shout of surprise and regret for being away from home for so long made me try to calm her worries. Just as she was about to rush off, I asked her to tell me [Pg 222]her name so I would know what to call her in the future.

"I am a poor peasant girl," she said, despondingly, "and you will never desire to speak to me more."

"I’m just a poor peasant girl," she said sadly, "and you’ll never want to talk to me again."

"Are my thoughts to be known by yours?" I asked, with a slight smile; "and do you think I cannot see God's bounty to the peasant girl, and love virtue and innocence of heart clothed in any garb?"

"Are my thoughts to be known by yours?" I asked with a slight smile. "And do you think I can't see God's generosity toward the peasant girl and appreciate virtue and innocence, no matter how they're dressed?"

"Yes, I think that," she answered, diffidently; "but I am not like those you are wont to converse and dwell with; and when you talk to me, you will learn my ignorance, and you will hate me then. I would have you love me."

"Yes, I think that," she replied, shyly; "but I'm not like those you're used to talking to and spending time with; and when you talk to me, you'll see my ignorance, and then you'll dislike me. I want you to love me."

"And why," I said, "when you do not know my character, or temper, you would have me love you?"

"And why," I said, "would you want me to love you when you don't even know my personality or mood?"

"That you may accept my love."

"That you will accept my love."

"And why yours?"

"And why yours?"

"Because it was my father's wish," she answered, with the gentleness of the most engaging simplicity of manner, "that I should love all Englishmen."

"Because it was my dad's wish," she replied, with a warmth and straightforwardness that was truly charming, "that I should love all Englishmen."

"I would not have that love," I replied.

"I don't want that kind of love," I replied.

She turned round quickly, and looked steadfastly at me; but soon as her gaze met mine, her large, round, languishing blue eye fell, and drooped to the ground.

She turned around quickly and stared at me intently; but as soon as our eyes met, her large, round, soft blue eye fell and looked down at the ground.

"Will you not tell me your name?" I said, going nearer to her; "for we shall meet again. [Pg 223]Yonder lies the vessel that will bear me from your country, and it is not prepared to move for many days."

"Will you please tell me your name?" I said, stepping closer to her; "because we will meet again. [Pg 223]Over there is the ship that will take me away from your country, and it won't be ready to leave for several days."

She raised her eyes, and, with a smile, turned them towards the bay, when observing that the sailors were painting the cutter's hull, and scraping the spars, she appeared pleased with the sight; and dropping her eyes towards the ground again, her tiny foot dallied with a blade of grass, and, almost inaudibly,

She looked up, and with a smile, turned her gaze toward the bay. Seeing the sailors painting the cutter's hull and scraping the spars, she seemed happy with the sight. Then, dropping her eyes back to the ground, her little foot played with a blade of grass and, almost silently,

"Call me Gunilda," she said.

"Call me Gunilda," she said.

A few minutes more separated us, and I wandered down the mountain. The beauty of face and form,—the childish simplicity,—the virtue and innocence of Gunilda's heart,—gave a nobler impulse to mine. I retired to rest, but slept not; for when I dozed, the clouds would lower around the yacht, and, the wind blowing with overwhelming force, every successive wave threatened the little bark with instant destruction; then, lo! the black vapours would rise from the surface of the sea, and rolling away to the south, leave all the heaven clear and blue; and there, shining in the west, the crescent moon, not three days old, would slant quite close to Hesperus, twinkling by her nether edge, to help and show the way across the ocean; and while the fair breeze filled the sails, and all the sailors sang for joy, a linnet, blown from off the land, would, shivering, perch upon the yard; and when the boatswain strove to catch the bird, [Pg 224]for fear it flew away and should be lost, the foolish thing would stretch its wings and, fluttering, fall within the vessel's course to sink beneath her bows; and when it rose again a long way in her wake, I thought I heard Gunilda's screams for help, and I would wake.

A few more minutes passed, and I made my way down the mountain. The beauty of Gunilda's face and figure—the childlike simplicity—the goodness and innocence of her heart—filled me with a deeper sense of purpose. I tried to sleep, but couldn't; whenever I dozed off, dark clouds would gather around the yacht, and the wind would blow violently, with each wave seeming to threaten the little boat with instant ruin. Then, suddenly, the thick clouds would lift off the sea, rolling away to the south and leaving the sky clear and blue. There, shining in the west, the crescent moon, not three days old, would hang close to Hesperus, twinkling on its lower edge, lighting the way across the ocean. While the gentle breeze filled the sails and all the sailors sang with joy, a linnet, carried off from the land, would perch, shivering, on the yard. When the boatswain tried to catch the bird, afraid it would fly away and get lost, the foolish creature would spread its wings and flutter, only to fall right in the path of the vessel, sinking beneath her prow. When it finally rose again far behind the boat, I thought I heard Gunilda's cries for help, and I would wake up.

Then when I awoke, throughout the night, scaring the timid spirit of sleep, a thousand dogs ashore howled and bayed the moon, as if all the ghosts of the million souls that had perished since the far times when Norway became the abode of men, had returned to earth, and were walking through the streets of Christiania.

Then when I woke up, throughout the night, startling the gentle spirit of sleep, a thousand dogs on the shore howled and cried at the moon, as if all the ghosts of the countless souls who had died since the early days when Norway became home to people had come back to earth and were walking through the streets of Christiania.

The dark grey mantle of morning had only enveloped the shades of night, when I banished sleep, and the hour being yet too early to leave my bed, I lay listening to the growls of Sailor, as he remonstrated with Jacko for coming too close to him; while Jacko, in a low, murmuring twitter, pointed out how scantily the straw was spread in the hutch, and how chilly felt the Northern air to him, a little Indian born between the Tropics.

The dark grey blanket of morning had just covered the night, when I shook off sleep, and it was still too early to get out of bed. I lay there listening to Sailor growling as he scolded Jacko for getting too close to him. Meanwhile, Jacko, in a quiet, murmuring tweet, pointed out how thin the straw was in the hutch and how cold the northern air felt to him, a little Indian born between the Tropics.

"Well, D——," I said, about five hours afterwards, when I had gone on deck, and saw the sailing-master sitting without his jacket, on the taffrail, abaft the shrouds, smoking his morning pipe, "What do you think of the day? Shall we move to-day?"

"Well, D——," I said, about five hours later when I went up on deck and saw the sailing-master sitting without his jacket on the taffrail, behind the shrouds, smoking his morning pipe, "What do you think of the day? Should we set sail today?"

"Why, sir," replied D——, capping me, "what little wind there is, draws up the Fiord, [Pg 225]dead on end; but, as the day goes on, it's just as likely to draw down. You see, sir," he said, directing my attention to some fleecy clouds, not larger than my thumb-nail, and floating above the mountains to the north-east, "those clouds seem coming this way."

"Why, sir," replied D——, shutting me down, "the little bit of wind we have is blowing up the Fiord, [Pg 225]straight up; but as the day goes on, it could just as easily start blowing down. You see, sir," he said, pointing out some fluffy clouds, no bigger than my thumbnail, drifting above the mountains to the northeast, "those clouds look like they're coming this way."

"Yes, I see," I answered; "but I hope we shall not go away to-day."

"Yeah, I get it," I replied; "but I really hope we don't leave today."

"I don't think, sir," said D——, "we shall have any more air to-day, than what there is now. The glass is high; and in these northern latitudes, during the summer months, there is little change of weather."

"I don't think, sir," said D——, "we're going to have any more air today than what's already here. The barometer is high; and in these northern latitudes during the summer months, the weather doesn’t change much."

"However, you can make some excuse," I observed, "if there be not sufficient wind, for it is no good floating on the Fiord in a calm."

"However, you can come up with an excuse," I said, "if there isn't enough wind, because it's pointless to be drifting on the Fiord with no breeze."

"Very good, sir," answered D——; "the wear and tear are certainly more than the pleasure. But, I think, my Lord wants to reach Larvig as soon as possible."

"Absolutely, sir," replied D——; "the costs are definitely higher than the enjoyment. But, I believe my Lord wants to get to Larvig as quickly as possible."

"I know that," I said; "but a day won't make any difference."

"I know that," I said, "but one day won’t make a difference."

"As you please, sir," replied D——; and I went below to know if R——, and P——, were getting up.

"As you wish, sir," replied D——; and I went downstairs to check if R—— and P—— were getting up.

"Hollo! old fellow!" exclaimed R——, when he saw me, "what the devil brought you out of bed so early?"

"Hello! old friend!" shouted R—— when he saw me, "what on earth got you out of bed so early?"

"Why, simply because I could not remain there later."

"Why, just because I couldn't stay there any longer."

"I suppose so," replied R——; and then, [Pg 226]whistling, singing, and humming, he commenced his toilet.

"I guess so," replied R——; and then, [Pg 226]whistling, singing, and humming, he started getting ready.

"What sort of a day is it?" at length he asked. "The sun shines I see; but how is the wind?"

"What kind of day is it?" he finally asked. "I can see the sun is shining, but how's the wind?"

"What little there is, is southerly," I replied.

"What little there is, is to the south," I replied.

"That's a bore, isn't it?" R—— observed.

"That's boring, isn't it?" R—— remarked.

"Why, that's as one may think," I said. "I am just as happy here as anywhere else."

"Well, that's one way to look at it," I said. "I’m just as happy here as I would be anywhere else."

"What's the good of frousting here at Christiania;" asked R——, disappointed at my difference of opinion.

"What's the point of hanging out here at Christiania?" asked R——, disappointed by my differing opinion.

"Why, look at the scenery. Nothing in the world is like it," I said warmly.

"Wow, check out the scenery. There's nothing in the world like it," I said warmly.

"Pooh!" replied R——, disgustedly, "all my eye! I came to fish, not to look at scenery. I suppose you want to go up to that confounded hill again. But do as you like. I am for Larvig."

"Ugh!" replied R——, disgustedly, "what a joke! I came here to fish, not to check out the scenery. I guess you want to hike up that annoying hill again. But do what you want. I’m heading to Larvig."

The sun mounted towards the zenith, and still his beams had no power upon the sluggish atmosphere; and the quiet and warmth of the day were unrelieved by a breath of air. R—— consulted D——, and found it useless to get under weigh. As soon as I learned the decision that had been come to, I jumped into a boat, and began to row myself towards the mountain where I had met Gunilda.

The sun rose high in the sky, but its rays had no effect on the still air; the calm and warmth of the day were uninterrupted by any breeze. R—— talked to D—— and realized it was pointless to set sail. As soon as I found out what was decided, I jumped into a boat and started rowing toward the mountain where I had encountered Gunilda.

"Mind you keep a sharp look out," shouted R——, to me, "for should the wind get up, we'll be off."

"Make sure to keep a close watch," shouted R—— to me, "because if the wind picks up, we'll be leaving."

[Pg 227]I raised my hand in the air, in token of assent, and to intimate I heard what he said.

[Pg 227]I raised my hand in the air to show I agreed and to let him know I heard what he said.

"We'll fire a gun," he added in a louder voice. Again, I raised my hand aloft; and then applying myself to the oars, soon reached the land. I made the boat fast to a tree's stump, and commenced my ascent of the mountain. No Gunilda, as yesterday, stood near the stone.

"We'll fire a gun," he said, raising his voice. I lifted my hand again, and then, using the oars, I quickly reached the shore. I tied the boat to a tree stump and started my climb up the mountain. There was no Gunilda, like yesterday, standing by the stone.

Musing, I sat, watching the crew on board the yacht making preparations for our departure, should the wind shift fair. I saw them running, like mice, up the shrouds, as they boused up the mainsail, and heard them chaunt a cheering chorus, as they heaved in the slack of the cable. It was mid-day. I rose, and turning to the left hand, took my way through the fir forest. I had proceeded about half a mile, when I discerned the kneeling figure of a woman through the closely-planted trees. I approached. It was Gunilda.

Musing, I sat watching the crew on the yacht prepare for our departure, if the wind shifted in our favor. I saw them climbing the rigging like mice as they tightened the mainsail and heard them sing a cheerful chorus as they pulled in the slack of the cable. It was midday. I stood up, turned to my left, and made my way through the fir forest. I had walked about half a mile when I spotted a woman kneeling between the closely-planted trees. I approached. It was Gunilda.

A little mound of earth, overgrown with flowers, denoted the humble grave of some one dear to the recollection of the Norwegian girl. A crucifix of black wood, round the top of which was wreathed a small garland of wild flowers, was fixed at one end of the grave; and on the cross the two Norwegian letters "G.H." signified the initials of the dead one's name. By Gunilda's side lay a basket of fresh flowers, [Pg 228]culled while yet the morning's dew was sparkling on them.

A small mound of dirt, covered in flowers, marked the simple grave of someone cherished by the Norwegian girl. A black wooden crucifix, topped with a small garland of wildflowers, stood at one end of the grave; the two Norwegian letters "G.H." on the cross represented the initials of the deceased. Next to Gunilda was a basket of fresh flowers, [Pg 228]picked while the morning dew was still glistening on them.

"I did not think, sir, to see you again," said Gunilda, as soon as she had perceived me; and ceasing in her dutiful care of removing the weeds that had crept up since her last visit.

"I didn't expect to see you again, sir," said Gunilda as soon as she noticed me, stopping her diligent task of pulling the weeds that had grown since her last visit.

"Yes, I am here once more; but I shall not disturb you again after to-day; though I regret my departure from Christiania, now that I have known you."

"Yes, I'm here again; but I won't bother you after today, even though I regret leaving Christiania now that I've gotten to know you."

"You regard me well," she replied sadly; "and, perhaps, it is, sir, because you have seen me thus dutifully employed; but I do no more than she would have done for me, had I been the first to die. This, sir, is my mother's grave."

"You think highly of me," she replied sadly; "and maybe it's because you’ve seen me working so hard; but I’m only doing what she would have done for me if I had been the first to die. This, sir, is my mother’s grave."

The girl turned away her face, and busied herself with the renewal of her task, and plucked the weeds, one by one, from the grave. How great was the contrast with my own country, England, where the moss and long grass soon conceal the tomb of relative and friend, and living footstep comes no more near the spot where the dead lie; but here, in simple Norway, the ties between those who breathe, and those who are gone, are still existent; nor does "death bring oblivion to the living as well as to the dead." Strewn with the flowers of yesterday, the grave gives no evidence that death has broken the strong links of affection; and while I gazed and marked this young girl's sweet solicitude, a [Pg 229]melancholy feeling, even in the soul's desolation, came with a hope, that I too may not rest altogether unremembered.

The girl turned her face away and focused on her task, pulling the weeds one by one from the grave. What a contrast to my own country, England, where moss and tall grass quickly cover the graves of relatives and friends, and no living person comes close to the place where the dead lie; but here, in simple Norway, the connections between the living and the dead are still present; nor does "death bring oblivion to the living as well as to the dead." Decorated with yesterday’s flowers, the grave shows no signs that death has broken the strong bonds of affection; and as I watched this young girl’s gentle care, a [Pg 229]melancholic feeling, even amid the soul's emptiness, brought a hope that I too might not be completely forgotten.

"How can I fail," I replied, "to love one who has not only affectionate tenderness of heart, but surpassing beauty of form? God has denied you nothing."

"How could I not love someone who has not just a kind heart, but also incredible beauty? God hasn’t held anything back from you."

"Oh! sir, do not say so," she exclaimed. "Heaven has been good to me; but I am also afflicted. My father sleeps in a distant land, and my poor mother here; and, look, how young I am to be alone."

"Oh! Sir, please don’t say that," she exclaimed. "Heaven has been good to me; but I am also suffering. My father is resting in a faraway place, and my poor mother is here; and, look at how young I am to be all alone."

The tears followed each other down her face, and the intensity of her grief was too great to allow Gunilda, for some moments, to speak. Looking up into my face, her eyes still filled with tears, she said,

The tears streamed down her face, and her grief was so intense that it took Gunilda a few moments to find her voice. Lifting her gaze to meet mine, her eyes still brimming with tears, she said,

"My condition is one of extreme sorrow and loneliness; and if you could hear it all, you would confess that I have cause to weep as well as others. But think me not ungrateful."

"My situation is one of deep sadness and isolation; if you could hear everything, you would agree that I have reasons to cry just like anyone else. But don't think I'm ungrateful."

"One whose heart is so guileless can never know ingratitude," I replied. "But may I know your sorrows?"

"Someone with such a sincere heart can never experience ingratitude," I replied. "But can I understand your sorrows?"

"Would you like to hear them, sir?"

"Do you want to hear them, sir?"

"I would."

"I will."

"As I told you, then, sir," Gunilda said, rising from her kneeling attitude, and sitting at my feet on the ground, "my father was a sailor. His heart was as affectionate as his form was manly; and his was a nature not long [Pg 230]to roam the world without the sigh of sympathy. In the summer of 1832, my father's vessel sailed from Christiania, bound to the Black Sea; and he has often told me how dreary his fate felt, doomed, as he was, to leave his country without one heart to think of him when absent, or rejoice when he should return. After a prosperous voyage the Mediterranean was reached, and the ship entered, with a fair wind, the Straits of the Hellespont. On one side, sir, of the Hellespont, is a small town called Sestos; it is a spot ignoble now, but was, once, one of note. At Sestos a Turkish nobleman, removed by age from the cares of State, had retired to pass in quietude the remainder of his life; and, surrounded by his harem, desired no other felicity than the companionship of his mistresses.

"As I was telling you, sir," Gunilda said, getting up from her kneeling position and sitting at my feet on the ground, "my father was a sailor. His heart was as loving as his appearance was strong; he had a natural longing not to wander the world without feeling the warmth of companionship. In the summer of 1832, my father's ship set sail from Christiania, heading for the Black Sea; he often shared with me how lonely he felt, forced to leave his homeland without a single person to think of him while he was away, or to celebrate his return. After a successful journey, they reached the Mediterranean, and the ship sailed smoothly through the Straits of the Hellespont. On one side of the Hellespont, sir, there is a small town called Sestos; it may be insignificant now, but it once held some importance. In Sestos, a Turkish nobleman, too old to worry about politics, had retired to spend the rest of his life in peace; surrounded by his harem, he sought no greater happiness than the company of his mistresses."

"The castle of this Turk lay by the Dardanelles, and from its windows the clear blue waters might be seen.

"The Turk's castle was located by the Dardanelles, and you could see the clear blue waters from its windows."

"Beautiful, and having yet the innocence of youth, and brought from her mountain home, near the Caucasus, to pant beneath the influence of a warmer sun, a Circassian maiden pined. One day, oppressed by the heat, the Circassian stole to a window overlooking the Straits, and strove to catch the freshness of the wind that passed, cooled, from the surface of the sea. While she stood there, the barque which bore my father sailed in sight, and making her way with speed upon the water, [Pg 231]soon drew, by her gallant trim and flowing canvass, the attention of the girl; and with swelling heart she sighed to see the vessel move towards that part of earth from whence she came. That I may not weary you," Gunilda continued, "my father's vessel arrived in safety at her destined port; but, on her return homewards, a gale of wind arose, and the ship was stranded under the walls of the castle where the Circassian dwelt. My father and three other sailors were the only men saved from a crew of twenty-five."

"Beautiful and still carrying the innocence of youth, a Circassian girl, taken from her mountain home near the Caucasus and feeling the heat of a warmer sun, felt a deep longing. One day, overwhelmed by the heat, she went to a window overlooking the Straits, trying to catch the refreshing breeze coming from the sea. As she stood there, my father's ship appeared on the horizon, sailing with speed across the water, [Pg 231] quickly capturing the girl’s attention with its elegant form and billowing sails. With a heavy heart, she sighed as she watched the vessel head towards the place she came from. To avoid boring you," Gunilda continued, "my father's ship arrived safely at its destination; however, on its way back, a strong wind came up, and the ship ended up stranded beneath the walls of the castle where the Circassian lived. Only my father and three other sailors survived out of a crew of twenty-five."

Gunilda stopped; and, turning towards me, said,

Gunilda stopped and turned to me, saying,

"Were you ever, sir, in Turkey?"

"Were you ever in Turkey, sir?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"No. Why do you want to know?"

"Because, sir," she answered, "they say the Turkish people are not compassionate; but I do not think that, for hear how kindly the Turkish nobleman behaved to my poor father. When the tidings flew round the country that a European vessel had been cast away, a multitude of people hurried to the shore, some to see, and some to give aid; and among this latter class, the good old Turk. My father, almost lifeless, by the nobleman's command, was taken to the castle, and with kind attention, was soon sensible of recovery. Though assiduity and tender care were shown alike by all, my father selected from the group of maidens who waited on him, a fair, slender girl, whose looks of sadness secured his [Pg 232]solicitude to learn the sorrow that oppressed her youthful heart. When all were busy to restore my father's health and secure his comfort, this young girl would sit apart, and, mutely, gaze for hours on him; but when my father caught her glance, she would smile with sadness, and then look another way.

"Because, sir," she replied, "people say the Turkish people aren't compassionate; but I don't believe that, because look at how kind the Turkish nobleman was to my poor father. When news spread across the country that a European ship had wrecked, a crowd rushed to the shore—some to see what happened, and some to help; among those helping was the good old Turk. My father, who was almost lifeless, was taken to the castle at the nobleman's command, and with his kind attention, he soon started to recover. Although everyone showed great dedication and care, my father noticed one of the young women who attended to him—a pretty, slender girl whose sad expression made him want to know what was troubling her heart. While everyone was busy trying to help my father regain his health and comfort, this young girl would sit apart, silently watching him for hours. But whenever my father caught her eye, she'd smile sadly and then look away."

"In our country, Norway, we are betrothed for many months before marriage; and I suppose, sir, this custom is observed, that the dispositions may assimilate; but, sir," observed Gunilda, retaining my attention by her earnest countenance of inquiry, "do you not think that two youthful creatures may love instinctively? Must the affections be always fostered by the caution of time?"

"In our country, Norway, we are engaged for several months before marriage; and I suppose, sir, this tradition is followed so that our personalities can align; but, sir," Gunilda said, keeping my attention with her earnest expression of curiosity, "don't you think that two young people can love naturally? Do feelings always need to be nurtured with the patience of time?"

"I think not," I replied, smiling to see her face beaming with anxiety to learn my answer. "As the sun-flower turns to the sun, and the petals of the rose open to the dew, so the human heart sighs for sympathy. Nature is joined together by links identical to all; and the same law that governs the sap, and external freshness of that little herb, rules inexplicably our own affections, and visible demeanour. Do you understand me?"

"I don't think so," I replied, smiling at her anxious expression as she waited for my answer. "Just like a sunflower turns toward the sun and the petals of a rose open to the dew, the human heart yearns for sympathy. Nature is connected by common threads; the same force that controls the sap and external freshness of that little plant also mysteriously governs our feelings and outward behavior. Do you get what I mean?"

"Yes, I do," she answered; and clasped my hand with much delight.

"Yes, I do," she replied, squeezing my hand with great joy.

"Indeed, Gunilda," I continued, "I believe in that heart's faith which, in England, is called 'love at first sight.'"

"Absolutely, Gunilda," I continued, "I believe in that heartfelt faith which, in England, is known as 'love at first sight.'"

"And so do I," she exclaimed, sidling closer [Pg 233]to my feet, "and so did my father. One day he took occasion, when all had retired, and left the youthful Circassian watching by his couch alone, to tell her how he loved her, and how devotedly he would watch over her happiness if she would become his bride. The maiden wept, and told him, in return, how reciprocal was her affection; but how insurmountable were the barriers between their union, since she had been purchased as a slave, and destined for the Turk's seraglio. Boldly defined as the forms of these mountains are against the heavens, my father's noble character yielded only to the sensitiveness of his heart; and when the Circassian made known to him her destined abjection, he turned his face away and wept in agony. Listen now to me, and hear the reason why I have been taught to love your countrymen.

"And I do too," she said, moving closer [Pg 233]to my feet, "and so did my father. One day, when everyone else had gone, he took the chance to tell the young Circassian, who was watching over him, how much he loved her and promised to protect her happiness if she would marry him. The young woman cried and expressed how much she loved him back, but how impossible it was for them to be together since she had been bought as a slave and was meant for the Turk's harem. My father's strong character was only matched by the sensitivity of his heart; when the Circassian revealed her fate to him, he turned away and wept in despair. Now listen to me and hear why I've learned to love your countrymen.

"Resident in Sestos, a young Englishman met, by accident, my father a few days after his recovery, and seeing his dejected mien, entered into conversation; and desired, finally, to know if he could aid him in his return to Norway. My father told him he had no wish to see his native land again, since he had seen at Sestos that which an unhappy destiny had rendered dearer than the soil of his nativity.

"While staying in Sestos, a young Englishman unexpectedly met my father a few days after his recovery. Noticing his gloomy expression, he struck up a conversation and eventually asked if he could help him get back to Norway. My father told him he didn't want to see his homeland again, as he had discovered in Sestos something that an unfortunate fate had made more precious than the land of his birth."

"'No sorrow,' answered the young Englishman, 'is without alleviation.'

"'No sorrow,' replied the young Englishman, 'is without relief.'"

"'But this, sir,' my father said, 'is without remedy.'

"'But this, sir,' my father said, 'has no solution.'"

[Pg 234]"'If you desire money,' observed the Englishman, 'here is my purse; and when I come, some day, to Christiania, you can then repay me.'

[Pg 234]"If you need money," the Englishman said, "here's my wallet; and when I eventually come to Oslo, you can pay me back then."

"'I desire not gold, sir,' and my father bowed his head in sorrow.

"'I don't want gold, sir,' and my father lowered his head in sadness.

"'You are yet in the prime and vigour of youth,' the Englishman said; 'and, perhaps, you swerve under the infliction of a feeling to which I have not been an entire stranger. You love.'

"'You are still in the prime

"My father replied not.

"My dad didn't reply."

"'I have power in the presence of the Sultan,' replied the young Englishman, 'and doubt not, if you will inform me of your grievances, the sincerity of my desire to mitigate your grief.'

"'I have influence with the Sultan,' the young Englishman replied, 'and I assure you, if you share your concerns with me, I genuinely want to help ease your suffering.'"

"My father looked up, and taking the Englishman's hand, thanked him, in sentences broken by his sorrow, for his generous mediation. The tale was soon told; and, when my father had recounted his fear, that a happy result could never be brought to his affections, the Englishman bade him not despair; and though the task was arduous, he still would strive to master it. Two days afterwards the Englishman returned to my father, and desired, that he would repair to Constantinople, and meet him there at a certain church which the Englishman indicated by name. Faithful to his promise, my father took leave of the Turkish nobleman who had been his [Pg 235]benefactor, and proceeded to Constantinople, where at the place and hour appointed, he met the Englishman. Grasping my father heartily by the hand, and telling him how impotent were the efforts of man to contend with the decrees of Providence, the young Englishman begged that he would follow him into the sacred edifice; and grieving no longer, humiliate himself before his Maker, and thank Him, that his misfortunes had been no greater. My father entered. Near an altar was a veiled figure, and by its side a priest, clad in the snowy flowing robes of his office, seemed busy with some holy ordinances; but when my father came near, the Englishman raised suddenly the white veil, and allowing it to fall on the marble floor, lo! with palpitating heart, before him stood the Circassian slave. The Englishman had bought her for a large sum of money from the Turk, and conveying her to Constantinople, gave her in marriage to my father. My father's joy knew no bounds, and his gratitude to the Englishman became a feeling as limitless in its ecstasy.

"My father looked up, took the Englishman's hand, and thanked him, his words interrupted by sorrow, for his generous help. The story was quickly told; and when my father expressed his fear that he would never find happiness in love, the Englishman urged him not to give up. Although the task was difficult, he would continue to try. Two days later, the Englishman returned to my father and asked him to come to Constantinople to meet him at a specific church he named. True to his word, my father said goodbye to the Turkish nobleman who had been his benefactor and set off for Constantinople. At the time and place they agreed on, he met the Englishman. Shaking my father’s hand warmly, the young Englishman remarked on how powerless humans are against the will of Providence. He urged my father to follow him into the sacred building, to stop grieving, humble himself before God, and thank Him that his misfortunes weren't worse. My father entered. Near an altar stood a veiled figure, and next to her a priest in white robes was engaged in some holy rites. But when my father approached, the Englishman suddenly lifted the white veil, letting it fall onto the marble floor, and there stood the Circassian slave, her heart racing. The Englishman had bought her for a large sum from the Turk and brought her to Constantinople, giving her to my father in marriage. My father’s joy knew no bounds, and his gratitude to the Englishman was an overwhelming feeling of ecstasy."

"'I desire no thanks,' the noble Englishman replied, 'for you would have done the same for me had our positions been reversed; but I would always be remembered by you both, and, that, I may not be forgotten, take this ring, and wear it for my sake. When I was at Cairo, an Arab gave it me, and bade, when I performed a deed that pleased me by its [Pg 236]generosity, to part with it in token of the heart's content.'

"'I don't want any thanks,' the noble Englishman replied, 'because you would have done the same for me if our roles were switched; but I want to always be remembered by both of you. So, to ensure I'm not forgotten, take this ring and wear it for my sake. When I was in Cairo, an Arab gave it to me and said that when I performed an act that brought me joy through its generosity, I should give it away as a symbol of my happiness.'"

"See!" said Gunilda, holding up her hand, "this is the ring;" and she kissed it. It was the same ring I had observed the first day I saw the Norwegian girl; and it was a plain circlet of solid gold, surmounted by a curiously-worked figure, having the beak and plumed wings of a bird, and the body and tail of a lion.

"Look!" Gunilda said, raising her hand, "this is the ring;" and she kissed it. It was the same ring I had noticed the first day I saw the Norwegian girl; it was a simple band of solid gold, topped with a uniquely designed figure that had the beak and feathered wings of a bird, and the body and tail of a lion.

"Since my mother's death I have worn it," said Gunilda sadly; and added, with a faint smile, "but when I wed, my husband will make his claim, no doubt."

"Since my mom passed away, I've worn it," Gunilda said sadly; and then added with a faint smile, "but when I get married, my husband will definitely claim it."

Applying herself again to the cultivation of the flowers planted around her mother's grave, the beautiful Norwegian informed me, while engaged in her affectionate office, that, her mother survived the intelligence of her husband's death but a short time; and on her death-bed, committed Gunilda to the care of an old friend.

Applying herself once more to tending the flowers around her mother’s grave, the beautiful Norwegian told me, while performing her loving task, that her mother lived a short time after hearing about her husband’s death; and on her deathbed, she entrusted Gunilda to the care of an old friend.

Mid-day came, and brought with it the sultriness and cheerful brightness of a Norwegian summer's day. Through the fir-trees I could see the waters of the Fiord sparkling, like liquid silver, in the glare of noon; and far away, the clouds, like pieces of white wool, resting half-way up the mountains. Gunilda, perceiving my pensive mood, observed,

Midday arrived, bringing the warmth and brightness of a Norwegian summer day. Through the fir trees, I could see the Fiord's waters sparkling like liquid silver in the noon sunlight, and in the distance, the clouds looked like fluffy white wool, resting halfway up the mountains. Gunilda, noticing my thoughtful mood, said,

"To-morrow, sir, at this hour, I shall not see you; and, I dare say, you will almost have forgotten the Norwegian peasant girl."

"Tomorrow, sir, at this time, I won’t see you; and, I bet you’ll have almost forgotten the Norwegian peasant girl."

[Pg 237]"If there be any grief that pains me," I replied, "it is the one, because it is fruitless, which reminds me how faithfully and long I shall remember you and to-day."

[Pg 237] "If there's any sadness that hurts me," I said, "it's this one, because it serves no purpose, which makes me realize how deeply and for so long I will remember you and today."

"Take me with you to England," she exclaimed, "I will ever serve you diligently, like a menial."

"Take me with you to England," she said, "I will always serve you faithfully, like a servant."

"To take you hence," I replied, "is only to lead you to destruction. A flower so delicate in its texture, will not bear transplanting, or lack of tenderness; and I would not see it droop and fade for all the gratification I may derive from its presence and sweet perfume."

"Taking you away from here," I said, "would only bring you harm. A flower so delicate in its nature can't survive being moved or without care; and I wouldn't want to see it wilt and fade for all the joy I might get from its beauty and sweet fragrance."

"What the heart desires, the body can endure," she answered in an earnest tone. "My grief will be bitterer in your absence than all the tortures which may attend me when I am near you. Let me go with you," and she seized my hand, and clung to it with affectionate tenacity.

"What the heart wants, the body can handle," she replied earnestly. "My sorrow will be more painful in your absence than all the suffering I'll endure when I'm with you. Let me come with you," and she grabbed my hand, holding on to it tightly with love.

"It is impossible," I answered. "In a short time after I am gone, you will think of me no longer, and selecting from your countrymen one whose feelings may sympathise with your own, you will pass your days in happiness, and go to your grave in peace."

"It’s impossible," I replied. "Not long after I’m gone, you won’t think of me anymore. You’ll choose someone from your countrymen who shares your feelings, and you’ll spend your days happy and go to your grave in peace."

The young girl rose to her feet, for she had hitherto sat on the ground, or retained a kneeling position; and taking the ring, I have casually alluded to, from her finger, she said in her native tongue;

The young girl stood up, as she had previously been sitting on the ground or kneeling; and taking the ring I just mentioned from her finger, she spoke in her native language;

"The great and the humble, the rich and [Pg 238]poor, feel alike, for God has made no distinction between the peasant girl's deep affections and those of a queen. My father's name and family will end with me, but let my memory live with you."

"The great and the humble, the rich and [Pg 238]poor, feel the same, because God makes no distinction between the deep feelings of a peasant girl and those of a queen. My father's name and family will end with me, but let my memory stay with you."

She placed the ring upon my finger. She wept not, and not a sigh escaped her; but her whole frame trembled with excess of feeling.

She put the ring on my finger. She didn't cry, and not even a sigh slipped from her; but her whole body shook with intense emotion.

"You think," I exclaimed, "that I reverence not your love, and deem your affectionate and noble heart worthy of my acceptance; but you know not the false position in which I stand, or you would favour that apparent apathy which wounds my soul. Had it been in my destiny, I could have dwelt for ever among these mountains, with no other minister to my love than your own self; but to take you hence to England, and refuse you the cheerfulness and honourable endearments of wedlock, is to humiliate my own conscience, and covet the curse of God in your hatred."

"You think," I exclaimed, "that I don't appreciate your love and consider your kind and noble heart unworthy of my acceptance; but you don't understand the difficult position I'm in, or you would show kindness towards that apparent indifference that hurts my soul. If it had been my fate, I could have lived forever among these mountains, with no one to share my love but you; but taking you to England and denying you the joy and honorable affection of marriage would mean humiliating my own conscience and inviting the curse of God through your resentment."

I had scarcely spoken, when a flash of light shot across the sky, and before the girl had even ceased to start at the sight, the long, loud roar of a gun succeeded. I understood the signal. The token of a sincerely cherished, and steadfast friendship, I had worn, since I left England, a valuable ring, and removing it from my finger, I took Gunilda's hand and replaced her gift with mine. Gunilda held up her hand before her for some minutes, without the utterance of a word, and gazed on the [Pg 239]brilliant jewel, then allowing her hand to fall by her side, burst into a passionate flood of tears.

I had barely said a word when a flash of light streaked across the sky, and before the girl could even react, the loud roar of a cannon followed. I understood the signal. As a symbol of a deeply valued and strong friendship, I had worn a precious ring since I left England. Taking it off my finger, I took Gunilda's hand and replaced her gift with mine. Gunilda held her hand up in front of her for a few minutes, silently staring at the [Pg 239]brilliant jewel. Then, letting her hand drop to her side, she broke down in tears.

Again, a sudden gleam of light glanced through the forest, and, a moment after, the booming of another gun rolled away down the valleys, and over the rocks, with a faint, and then a loudly reviving echo.

Again, a sudden flash of light shot through the forest, and a moment later, the booming of another gun echoed down the valleys and over the rocks, starting faint and then growing into a loud echo.

"Good bye, Gunilda," I said. She spoke not, nor moved; but her shoulders shook with a convulsive heaving.

"Goodbye, Gunilda," I said. She didn't speak or move; but her shoulders shook with a convulsive heaving.

"Will you not shake hands with me?" I asked, my voice almost indistinct with emotion. Still, she spoke not. I kneeled down, for Gunilda had reseated herself near her mother's grave, and raising her hand, I took it in mine, and pressed it. I felt the pressure returned, and allowing her small passive hand to fall gently again in her lap, I rose.

"Won't you shake my hand?" I asked, my voice barely audible with emotion. Still, she said nothing. I knelt down, because Gunilda had sat back down by her mother's grave, and raising her hand, I took it in mine and squeezed it. I felt her return the pressure, and after letting her small, limp hand fall gently back into her lap, I stood up.

"God bless you!" I said.

"Bless you!" I said.

She uttered a low, passionate cry, and then checking her anguish, murmured faintly,

She let out a quiet, intense cry, and then, controlling her pain, whispered softly,

"Farväl!" and covering her face with her hands, fell, sobbing violently, on her mother's grave.

"Goodbye!" she cried, covering her face with her hands, and fell, sobbing uncontrollably, on her mother's grave.

I hurried from the spot; and hardly knew that I had left Gunilda, until the boat ran against the cutter's bow, and roused me as from a dream.

I rushed away from the spot, barely realizing I had left Gunilda behind until the boat bumped into the cutter's bow, waking me up as if from a dream.

When I got on board, I found that the wind was still too trivial to allow us even to drift out of the harbour, and the cutter lay the whole night immoveably on the water.

When I got on board, I discovered that the wind was still too weak to let us even drift out of the harbor, and the cutter remained completely still on the water all night.







CHAPTER XIII.

THE YACHT UNDER SAIL—JACKO OVERBOARD—FREDRICKSVÆRN—THE UNION JACK—SCENERY ON THE LARVIG RIVER—TRANSIT OF TIMBER—SALMON FISHING—THE DEFEATED ANGLER—LUDICROUS ADVENTURE WITH AN EAGLE—RESULT OF THE ANGLING EXPEDITION—THE BEVY OF LADIES—NORWEGIAN DINNER-PARTY SINGULAR AND AMUSING CUSTOMS.

THE YACHT UNDER SAIL—JACKO OVERBOARD—FREDRICKSVÆRN—THE UNION JACK—SCENERY ON THE LARVIG RIVER—TRANSIT OF TIMBER—SALMON FISHING—THE DEFEATED ANGLER—FUNNY ADVENTURE WITH AN EAGLE—RESULTS OF THE FISHING TRIP—THE GROUP OF LADIES—NORWEGIAN DINNER PARTY WITH UNIQUE AND ENTERTAINING CUSTOMS.


At eight o'clock on Tuesday morning, the 6th, we started for Larvig. About sixty miles from Christiania, at the mouth of the Fiord, a fine, light air sprung up, and, delighted with the expectation that we should reach Larvig before set of sun on Wednesday, we amused ourselves by firing at bottles thrown into the sea, and afterwards by watching the gambols of Sailor and Jacko. Sailor, stretched at full length on his back, allowed Jacko to pull his ears, and bite his claws; and mindless of the monkey's antics, seemed rather to encourage, than object to his vagaries. Wearied, at last, with his pulling, and jumping, and biting, Jacko sought a variation to his amusements, by springing on the weather runner-block, and thence depending by his tail. When Sailor perceived that Jacko had removed his gymnastics from himself, and transferred them to the block, he rose from his recumbent attitude on [Pg 241]the deck, and, squatting on his haunches, observed, for some little time, with singular attention and silence, the extraordinary flexibility of Jacko's limbs; but at the moment when Jacko suspended his little carcase by his smaller tail from the runner-block, whether it was the manner in which Sailor expressed a roar of laughter, or whether it was a shout of applause at the comical likeness of Jacko's body, swinging in the air, to a bunch of black grapes, certain it is, that, at that instant, Sailor gave one, but one, tremendous bark, and, in the twinkling of an eye, Jacko fell souse into the water. He sank like a boiled plum-pudding to the vessel's keel; for when he rose again, his little round head could just be seen a hundred feet astern. Never was there such dismay on board the Iris before.

At eight o'clock on Tuesday morning, the 6th, we headed out for Larvig. About sixty miles from Christiania, at the mouth of the Fiord, a nice, light breeze picked up, and thrilled with the hope of reaching Larvig before sunset the next day, we entertained ourselves by shooting at bottles tossed into the sea, and later by watching Sailor and Jacko play. Sailor, lying flat on his back, let Jacko tug at his ears and nibble on his claws; seemingly unfazed by the monkey's antics, he appeared to encourage Jacko's playful behavior instead of resisting it. Eventually, tired of Jacko’s pulling, jumping, and biting, Jacko decided to switch things up by leaping onto the weather runner-block and hanging from it by his tail. When Sailor noticed that Jacko had moved his antics from himself to the block, he sat up from his relaxed position on [Pg 241]the deck and, crouching on his haunches, focused with unusual curiosity and silence on the extraordinary flexibility of Jacko's limbs. But when Jacko hung his small body upside down by his tiny tail from the runner-block, it could have been the way Sailor let out a roar of laughter or a shout of appreciation for Jacko's comical resemblance to a bunch of black grapes swinging in the air. At that moment, Sailor let out one, but only one, tremendous bark, and in the blink of an eye, Jacko plunged headfirst into the water. He sank like a boiled plum pudding to the bottom of the ship; when he resurfaced, his little round head could just be seen a hundred feet behind us. Never had there been such panic on board the Iris before.

"Jacko's overboard!" shouted each man; and echo taking up the cry, "Jacko's overboard!" must have alarmed Jacko himself by its forlorn expression. Struggling with the waves, and striking out manfully with his hands, and not like a monkey, Jacko kept his head above water, and his eyes turned towards the cap of the top-mast.

"Jacko's gone overboard!" shouted each man, and the echo joining in, "Jacko's gone overboard!" must have scared Jacko himself with its desperate tone. Fighting against the waves and swimming strongly with his arms, not like a monkey, Jacko kept his head above water, his eyes fixed on the top of the mast.

"Hard a-port the helm!" bellowed D——, rushing to the tiller himself; and soon as the cutter shot up in the wind, he added,

"Turn the helm hard to port!" yelled D——, rushing to the tiller himself; and as soon as the cutter turned into the wind, he added,

"Now, then, two of you, my sons, jump into the dingy."

"Alright, you two, my sons, get into the dingy."

[Pg 242]The command was obeyed quickly as it was given; and Jacko has to thank his star, whichever it may be, that the boat had not been hoisted on the davits, but towing in the vessel's wake; or he might, many months ago, have been a source of entertainment at the Court of Neptune.

[Pg 242]The order was followed quickly as it was given; and Jacko has to be grateful to whatever luck he has that the boat wasn’t lifted onto the davits, but was instead being towed in the ship’s wake; otherwise, he could have been a source of entertainment at the Court of Neptune many months ago.

If a drowned rat looks sleekly wretched, Jacko looked ten times worse when taken out of the water. The brightness of his eye had fled,—his tail, which curled usually like a sucking-pig's, hung now straight down behind him, relaxed from its ringlet, like a piece of tarred rope,—and his stomach, vying once with the symmetry of the greyhound's, was distended and globular as a small barrel of oysters. Half a spoonful of brandy was poured down his throat, and having been wrapped up in some odd pieces of flannel, he was put in a soup-plate, and set down before the fire. This was all that human art could do, and the rest was left to the control of time, or Jacko's robust constitution.

If a drowned rat looks miserably sleek, Jacko looked ten times worse when he was taken out of the water. The brightness in his eye was gone—his tail, which usually curled like a piglet's, now hung straight down behind him, limp like a piece of tarred rope—and his stomach, once as symmetrical as a greyhound’s, was now swollen and round like a small barrel of oysters. Half a spoonful of brandy was poured down his throat, and after being wrapped in some odd pieces of flannel, he was placed in a soup bowl and set down in front of the fire. This was all that human ingenuity could do, and the rest was left up to time or Jacko's strong constitution.

At twelve o'clock we were off Fredricksværn, the Norwegian Portsmouth, which is a small town at the entrance of the Larvig Fiord. Here Jacko came on deck buoyant as a ball, and with a coat made more glossy by the chemical action of the salt water.

At noon, we left Fredricksværn, the Norwegian Portsmouth, which is a small town at the entrance of the Larvig Fiord. At this point, Jacko came on deck, full of energy like a bouncing ball, with a coat that shone even more due to the saltwater.

Looking towards Larvig, we saw, an unusual sight in this country, the Union-jack flying on a little rock; and were puzzled for some time [Pg 243]to know whether it was a compliment that had reference to us. After a tedious contention with dead water, light puffs of wind that came down the gulleys on our starboard beam, and shifted to our bows, and then veering right aft, jibed the main-sheet, we cast anchor about twenty yards from the rock on whose summit the Union-jack waved.

Looking towards Larvig, we saw, an unusual sight in this country, the Union Jack flying on a small rock; and we were puzzled for a while [Pg 243] about whether it was a gesture that referred to us. After a long struggle with dead water, light puffs of wind came down the gulleys on our starboard side, shifted to our front, and then veered directly behind us, causing the main sheet to jibe. We dropped anchor about twenty yards from the rock where the Union Jack was waving.

The Consul sent on board to say, that his house was at our service, as well as any other kindness he could show us. We understood afterwards, that the Consul had mistaken the Iris for the Fairy schooner, belonging to Sir Hyde Parker; and had hoisted the jack in compliment to his old friend the baronet.

The Consul came on board to say that his house was at our disposal, along with any other help he could offer us. We later realized that the Consul had confused the Iris with the Fairy schooner, which belonged to Sir Hyde Parker; and he had flown the flag as a compliment to his old friend, the baronet.

It was not possible for us to fish to-day; but P—— hired a carriole, and drove about six miles into the country, to obtain leave from the proprietors on the banks of the Larvig River, to fish on the following morning. The task of gaining permission to fish for salmon in Norway is sometimes a tedious one; for every man is his own landlord, and possesses a few acres of land that he tills himself. All lands on the banks make the portion of the river flowing by them, the property of the landowner; and the angler may have to secure the good-will and assent of fifty persons, before he can fish in any part of a river, which is more difficult to do, as the Norwegians are jealous of their little privileges. They rarely deny courtesy to a stranger; but they like [Pg 244]to have it in their power to do so if they please. This, however, was not P——'s case; for through the hearty assistance and recommendation of the Consul, no obstruction was made to the attainment of everything we desired.

We weren’t able to fish today, but P—— rented a small carriage and drove about six miles into the countryside to get permission from the landowners along the Larvig River to fish tomorrow morning. Getting permission to fish for salmon in Norway can be a bit of a hassle since every person is their own landlord and has a few acres of land they farm themselves. All the land by the river means that the section of the river that runs along it belongs to the landowner, so the angler may need to get the approval of fifty different people before they can fish in any part of the river. This is more challenging because the Norwegians are protective of their little privileges. They typically don’t deny a stranger’s request, but they like to have the option to do so if they want. However, that wasn’t the case for P——; thanks to the kind assistance and recommendation of the Consul, we faced no obstacles in getting everything we needed.

As all fishermen are aware, it is necessary to angle for salmon, and indeed many fish, either very early in the morning, or in the cool of the afternoon, the heat of noon being perfectly inimical to the sport. At two o'clock, therefore, on Friday morning, the memorable 9th of June, we started in the gig, stored with abundant provision, for the first foss, or fall, of the Larvig River.

As all fishermen know, it's essential to fish for salmon, and really for many types of fish, either very early in the morning or in the cool of the afternoon, since the heat of noon is completely bad for fishing. So, at two o'clock on the memorable morning of Friday, June 9th, we set off in the boat, stocked with plenty of supplies, headed for the first fall of the Larvig River.

The scenery of this river was the most beautiful we had yet seen, though not the grandest, the banks being thickly wooded, and the diversity of the foliage more striking than at Krokleven, or in the Christiania Fiord. Nearly four hours elapsed before we reached the spot selected for fishing; but our passage up the river had been obstructed occasionally by bars across the water. These bars are large stakes or piles driven, about twenty feet apart, into the bed of the river, and carried from one bank to the other, to which the trunks of trees are chained to prevent the timber from escaping to the sea; and it is no uncommon thing to meet with an immense field of timber, covering the whole surface of the river as far as the eye can see. A passage [Pg 245]is kept between two of these stakes, distinguished from the others by a mark, for the ordinary traffic of the river; and is defended by a huge bar of timber, secured by a chain, on removing which, the boats are, after a good deal of bumping, pulled through. The interior of the country being so inaccessible, the Norwegians have no other alternative but to roll the timber from the tops of the mountains, and casting it on the rivers, allow it to float to these artificial havens, where it is collected, and then, being made into immense rafts, guided by some half dozen men to the town, whence it is shipped to France or Holland.

The scenery of this river was the most beautiful we had seen so far, though not the grandest. The banks were thickly wooded, and the variety of foliage was more striking than at Krokleven or in the Christiania Fiord. It took us nearly four hours to reach the spot chosen for fishing, but our journey up the river was occasionally blocked by bars across the water. These bars are large stakes or piles driven about twenty feet apart into the riverbed, extending from one bank to the other, with tree trunks chained to them to keep the timber from escaping to the sea. It's common to encounter a massive field of timber covering the entire surface of the river as far as the eye can see. A passage [Pg 245] is kept open between two of these stakes, marked differently from the others for regular river traffic, and is protected by a huge wooden bar secured by a chain. After removing this, the boats can be pulled through with quite a bit of bumping. Since the interior of the country is so hard to access, the Norwegians have no choice but to roll timber down from the tops of the mountains, letting it float on the rivers to these artificial harbors, where it's collected, made into huge rafts, and then guided by a handful of men to the town for shipping to France or Holland.

P—— had made such excellent arrangements, that two prams were in readiness to receive R—— and himself when we arrived at our destination. In some of the salmon rivers it is quite impossible to fish from the banks, but the sportsman hires a boat, and angles in the centre of the stream, which is generally interrupted by large stones, or pieces of rock, in the eddy of which the salmon delight to sport.

P—— had made such great arrangements that two prams were ready to pick up R—— and himself when we got to our destination. In some of the salmon rivers, it's pretty much impossible to fish from the banks, so the angler hires a boat and fishes in the middle of the stream, which is usually broken up by big stones or pieces of rock where the salmon love to play.

P—— was the first to get his rod together, and selecting a particular fly that he had considered as "a certain killer," jumped into his pram. The men who row these prams are generally Norwegians, born on the banks of the river, and knowing pretty well under what rocks, or in what eddy, the salmon abound. The Norwegian who rowed P——'s pram was [Pg 246]a fine young fellow, but as unable to understand the English language as he was athletic. R—— and P—— divided the river in two parts, so that neither sportsman should interfere with the amusement of the other. P—— took the upper part of the stream, and R—— the lower; or, in other words, or other ideas, P—— was the wolf who came to drink of the limpid tide, and R—— was the lamb who had to put up with the muddy water.

P—— was the first to set up his fishing rod, choosing a specific fly that he thought would be "a sure thing," and jumped into his boat. The guys who row these boats are usually Norwegians, born along the riverbanks, and they know pretty well where the salmon like to hang out, whether it's under rocks or in eddies. The Norwegian who rowed P——'s boat was [Pg 246]a great young guy, but just as clueless about English as he was fit. R—— and P—— split the river into two sections so that neither fisherman would disturb the other's fun. P—— took the upper part of the stream, and R—— took the lower; in other words, P—— was the wolf coming to drink from the clear water, while R—— was the lamb stuck with the muddy stuff.

Broiling my back in the rising sun, I took my seat on a high rock from which I had a commanding view of both my friends, and could note the praiseworthy tact and labour with which they angled. Time flew on; a quarter of an hour elapsed, and then another quarter; and to these thirty minutes, twice thirty more were added, when the heat at my back was relieved by the furious and rapid clicking of P——'s reel. I started from my seat, and lo! P——'s rod had assumed quite a new appearance; for instead of its taper, arrowy form, it looked more like a note of interrogation, and seemed to ask as loudly and plainly as it could,

Broiling in the rising sun, I took a seat on a high rock from which I could see both my friends and appreciate the impressive skill and effort they put into fishing. Time flew by; fifteen minutes passed, and then another fifteen; after these thirty minutes, we added another hour, when the heat on my back was interrupted by the furious and rapid clicking of P——'s reel. I jumped up from my seat, and wow! P——'s rod had taken on a completely new shape; instead of its sleek, arrow-like form, it looked more like a question mark, seeming to ask as loudly and clearly as it could,

"What in heavens, master, has hold of my other end?"

"What in the world, master, is gripping my other end?"

P——, too, no longer retained that upright, soldierly attitude for which I had always admired him, but leaned so much backwards, that, should the good rod, I thought, [Pg 247]give way, nothing on earth can save him from falling on the hinder part of his head. R—— wound up his line, and sat down in his pram to watch P——.

P—— also no longer had that upright, soldier-like posture that I had always admired. He leaned back so far that if the good rod, I thought, [Pg 247]gave way, nothing could save him from falling on the back of his head. R—— reeled in his line and sat down in his pram to watch P——.

It is the custom, the instant the salmon takes the fly, for the rower to pull towards the shore with as much celerity and judgment as possible, neither to drive the boat too swiftly through the water, or loiter too slowly, both extremes endangering the chance of capturing your salmon. That part of the stream where P—— fished, was about forty yards below a rapid, and, indeed, ran with the current of a sluice; and the reader may imagine, that, a very little impetus given to the pram against this current, would increase the pressure of a large salmon on a small gut line. Directly the boatman discovered that P—— had a bite, towards the bank he commenced to row; but not with that degree of expedition P—— desired. Although I was some distance from them, I could perceive the energetic signals of P——'s left hand to the Norwegian to pull ashore more briskly. Every now and then the rattling of the reel would keep P——'s excitement alive, and as he gradually wound up the line, the salmon, making another start, would threaten to run away with every inch of tackle. Warily the Norwegian rowed, scarcely dipping his sculls in the water, lest their splash should startle the most timid of fish; but his cautious conduct made no impression on P——, for I [Pg 248]could still see him motion angrily to the Norwegian to be more speedy.

It’s common practice that the moment a salmon takes the fly, the rower pulls toward the shore as quickly and carefully as possible, avoiding moving the boat too fast or too slow, since both extremes could risk losing the fish. The stretch of the stream where P—— was fishing was about forty yards below a rapid, flowing like a sluice; you can imagine that a little push against this current could really put pressure on a small gut line with a large salmon. As soon as the boatman noticed that P—— had a bite, he started rowing toward the bank, but not fast enough for P——’s liking. Even though I was some distance away, I could see P—— animatedly signaling with his left hand to the Norwegian to pull ashore faster. Occasionally, the whir of the reel would keep P——’s excitement high, and as he gradually reeled in the line, the salmon would make another dash, threatening to take all the tackle with it. The Norwegian rowed cautiously, barely dipping his oars in the water to avoid startling even the shyest fish. However, P—— didn’t seem impressed by the Norwegian’s carefulness, as I [Pg 248] could still see him angrily motioning for the Norwegian to hurry up.

The bank of the river at last was reached, and stumbling over sculls and baling ladles, for these prams leak like sponges, and getting his foot entangled in a landing net, P—— contrived to step on shore; but barely had he stood on land again, than the line snapped, and the rod flew to the perpendicular with a short, sharp hiss. Imagination cannot sympathise with P——'s feelings, when, after travelling over a thousand miles, or more, for the sake of entrapping salmon, he should break, through the stupidity or slothfulness of a Norwegian boatman, his best gut line, and lose the finest salmon in the whole Larvig river. P——'s eyes wandered to the summit of his rod as it shot, like a poplar, straight into the air, and saw the remnant of his tackle, not half a yard long, flowing in every direction to the varying puffs of wind; and turning his head slowly round towards the astounded Norwegian, gave him a mingled look of inexpressible contempt and anger; and then, casting his rod violently to the ground, stamped his foot, and vowed he would never fish again.

The bank of the river was finally reached, and while stumbling over oars and buckets—since these boats leak like sponges—and getting his foot caught in a landing net, P— managed to step ashore. But as soon as he was back on land, the line snapped, and the rod shot up with a sharp hiss. It’s hard to imagine P—'s feelings when, after traveling over a thousand miles or more to catch salmon, he lost his best line because of a careless or lazy Norwegian boatman, and missed out on the biggest salmon in the entire Larvig river. P—'s eyes went to the tip of his rod as it shot straight up like a poplar, seeing the remainder of his tackle, barely half a yard long, fluttering in every direction with the changing gusts of wind. Slowly turning his head toward the shocked Norwegian, he shot him a look full of disdain and anger, then threw his rod to the ground, stomped his foot, and swore he would never fish again.

"You stupid ass!" I heard him shout to the Norwegian, perfectly ignorant whether P—— was addressing him with excess of passion, or a tornado of praise; "didn't I tell you, as well as I could, to pull faster? Do you think cat-gut is made of iron?"

"You idiot!" I heard him yell at the Norwegian, completely unaware if P—— was speaking to him with too much emotion or giving a storm of compliments; "didn't I tell you, as clearly as I could, to row faster? Do you think cat-gut is made of iron?"

[Pg 249]"Ja[3]," said the gaping Norwegian, catching a very vague idea of his meaning.

[Pg 249]"Yeah," said the stunned Norwegian, grasping a really unclear idea of what he meant.

"But it isn't, you d——d fool!" exclaimed P—— angrily. "Why don't you do what you're told?"

"But it isn't, you damn fool!" exclaimed P— angrily. "Why don't you just do what you're told?"

"Ja——," again began the unhappy boatman.

"Yeah——," the unhappy boatman started again.

"But you didn't," shouted P——, cutting him off in the midst of his reply.

"But you didn't," shouted P——, interrupting him in the middle of his reply.

"Ja, ja," interposed the Norwegian, "I pool pram."

"Yeah, yeah," interrupted the Norwegian, "I paddle the boat."

"Yes, you did 'pool pram,' and a pretty mess you have made of it;" and P—— put his hands in his trowsers' pockets, and began to walk up and down on the bank.

"Yeah, you really messed up the 'pool pram,' and it's quite a mess you made of it;" and P—— shoved his hands in his pants pockets and started pacing back and forth on the shore.

"What's the row?" called out R—— from his pram, floating in the middle of the river; "Have you lost your fish?"

"What's going on?" shouted R—— from his pram, drifting in the middle of the river; "Did you lose your fish?"

He had witnessed the whole transaction, as well as I.

He had seen the whole transaction, just like I did.

"It's hardly credible," answered P——, stopping in his walk, "that these Norwegian fools can live in a country all their days, and have salmon under their noses, and not know how to catch them. Curse the fools! the sooner one leaves them the better."

"It's hard to believe," replied P——, stopping mid-stride, "that these Norwegian idiots can spend their entire lives in a country where salmon are right in front of them and not know how to catch them. Damn those fools! The sooner you get away from them, the better."

"So I think," acceded R——, sitting down quietly in the after part of his pram, and dangling his crossed leg. "For my part, I don't think there are any salmon at all. I can't get [Pg 250]a rise. I wouldn't mind betting an even crown you had hold of a weed!"

"So I think," agreed R——, sitting down quietly in the back of his pram and swinging his crossed leg. "As for me, I don't believe there are any salmon here at all. I can't get [Pg 250]a rise. I'd even bet a crown that you caught a weed!"

"Pooh! stuff!" ejaculated P——, starting off in his see-saw ambulation again. "I saw the fish;—'twas fifteen pound weight at least."

"Ugh! stuff!" exclaimed P——, starting off again in his see-saw walk. "I saw the fish; it was at least fifteen pounds!"

"Oh! if you saw him, that's another thing," said R——; and taking his pipe out of his pocket, began to soothe his nerves by blowing off his disappointment in the substantial form of pure Oronoco tobacco-smoke.

"Oh! if you saw him, that's a different story," said R——; and pulling his pipe out of his pocket, he started to calm his nerves by exhaling his disappointment in the thick, rich clouds of pure Oronoco tobacco smoke.

Half an hour afterwards, P—— was hard at work as ever, perfectly regardless of the solemn attestation he had volunteered to Jupiter.

Half an hour later, P—— was hard at work as usual, completely unconcerned about the serious promise he had made to Jupiter.

The four sailors who had rowed the gig from Larvig, had, with the ingenuity of their class, constructed a tent, lighted a fire, and were preparing breakfast, both for us and themselves. This was the first time I had breakfasted in the open air, and it is not so unpleasant as might be imagined, particularly should the morning be so calm, and clear, and warm as this one was. Shaded by a high mountain, fresh with the foliage of fir, birch, and filbert trees, the morning sun reached not our encampment. The balmy air, the dew and early vapour upon the grass, the humming sound of the bee, the low of cattle, the lusty salutation of peasants as they met each other, proceeding to their labour, and, above all, the murmuring river, were sounds and things as pleasant to hear and see as always to remember.

The four sailors who had rowed the boat from Larvig used their usual resourcefulness to set up a tent, start a fire, and prepare breakfast for both themselves and us. This was my first time having breakfast outdoors, and it’s not as bad as one might think, especially when the morning is as calm, clear, and warm as this one was. We were shaded by a tall mountain, lush with fir, birch, and hazelnut trees, so the morning sun didn’t reach our campsite. The fragrant air, the dew and early mist on the grass, the buzzing of bees, the lowing of cattle, and the cheerful greetings of peasants as they passed each other on their way to work, along with the gentle sound of the river, created a scene that was just as enjoyable to hear and see as it was to remember.

[Pg 251]R—— and P—— were unwearied; nor did they yield to fatigue until the sun had risen so high, that its heat sent the fish to respire at the bottom of the river, and the animals under shelter of the trees. After we had breakfasted, R—— and P—— exchanged a few remarks on the art of angling, felt the fatigue of rising at two in the morning, and fell fast asleep. I possessed the wakefulness of a second Cerberus, and allowed not Morpheus to approach my eyelids; but loitering, up and down, under the shady boughs of the trees, listened to the sweet silvery rippling of the river, as it crept between the rocks, or bubbled over its shingly bed. Overpowered at last by the fury of the vertical sun, I entered the tent that had been formed by raising the gig's sail on the four oars.

[Pg 251]R—— and P—— were tireless; they didn’t give in to exhaustion until the sun was high enough that its heat drove the fish deep into the river and the animals to seek shade under the trees. After we had breakfast, R—— and P—— shared a few thoughts on fishing, felt the weariness of waking up at two in the morning, and quickly fell asleep. I had the alertness of a second Cerberus and let sleep not approach my eyelids; instead, I wandered back and forth under the cool tree branches, listening to the sweet, silvery sound of the river as it flowed between the rocks or bubbled over its pebbly bed. Finally overwhelmed by the relentless sun, I entered the tent made by hoisting the gig's sail on the four oars.

R—— and P—— were still slumbering, and I was lying under the tent, on the ground, reading the Adventures of Peregrine Pickle. The sailors who had formed the boat's crew were sauntering about along the banks of the river; and the cockswain, who generally on such excursions as the present performed the part of cook, was seated on a piece of rock which projected into the bubbling stream, busily occupied in the preparation of dinner. Whistling, and humming, by fits, one of the sea-songs of his country, he wore the time away while peeling some potatoes, which, one by one, as his large knife, slung from his belt by a [Pg 252]piece of yarn, deprived of their jackets, he threw into an iron pot, having rinsed them previously in the flowing river. Within his sight, lay, on a white towel, a leg of lamb, bewitchingly sprinkled with salt, all prepared to be cooked, but only waiting for the potatoes to bear it company to the fire. Absorbed in my book, I paid little attention to what was passing around me, except by an occasional glance, until I heard a loud, shrill scream, and then a louder rustling of feathers, as if this was the noon of the last day, and Gabriel having blown his trumpet without my hearing it, had actually reached the earth. I jumped up, and running out of the tent, saw the cockswain standing like a nautical statue, motionless, gazing upwards, and with a stick grasped firmly in his hand. Following his example, I turned my eyes reverentially to the skies, and distinguished, from the blaze of day, a most lusty eagle, making the best of his way towards the residence of Jove with the leg of lamb in his beak; and, as if conscious of the superiority his position had given him over us, waving the white towel, grasped with his talons, hither and thither in the air, like a flag moved exultingly by conquerors after victory.

R—— and P—— were still sleeping, and I was lying under the tent, on the ground, reading the Adventures of Peregrine Pickle. The sailors who made up the boat's crew were strolling along the riverbanks, and the cockswain, who usually took on the cooking duties during outings like this, was sitting on a rock that jutted out into the bubbling stream, busy preparing dinner. Whistling and humming intermittently to one of his country’s sea songs, he passed the time peeling potatoes. One by one, as his large knife, attached to his belt by a [Pg 252]piece of yarn, stripped them of their skins, he tossed them into an iron pot after rinsing them in the flowing river. In his sight lay a leg of lamb on a white towel, attractively sprinkled with salt, all ready to be cooked but only waiting for the potatoes to join it by the fire. Engrossed in my book, I hardly paid attention to what was happening around me, except for an occasional glance, until I heard a loud, piercing scream and then a louder rustling of feathers, as if it were the final noon of the last day and Gabriel had blown his trumpet, reaching earth without my notice. I jumped up and ran out of the tent, seeing the cockswain standing like a nautical statue, motionless and staring up, with a stick firmly in his hand. Following his lead, I reverently turned my eyes to the sky and saw, against the bright daylight, a powerful eagle making its way toward Jove’s residence with the leg of lamb in its beak; and, as if aware of its superiority, it waved the white towel it clutched in its talons around in the air like a flag triumphantly waved by conquerors after victory.

"It's gone, sir," said the sailor, lowering the uplifted club, "and, blow me, if I ever heerd him coming."

"It's gone, sir," said the sailor, lowering the raised club, "and, I swear, I never heard him coming."

I shall not forget the utter disgust of R—— and P——, when, like a couple of Samsons [Pg 253]they awoke, and found that their hair was certainly untouched, but that the most positive support of their strength had been cut off irretrievably, and their dinner of lamb gone where all innocence should go. Some bread and cheese, together with a few eggs which the boatmen purchased for us at a neighbouring cottage, supplied the loss of our lamb. The coolness of the afternoon gave R—— and P——, an opportunity to renew their ardour, and at six o'clock they both might have been found encouraging the habit of patience in the art of angling.

I won't forget the total disgust of R—— and P—— when they woke up, like a couple of Samsons [Pg 253], and realized that while their hair was untouched, the main source of their strength had been cut off for good, and their dinner of lamb was gone like all innocence should be. Some bread and cheese, along with a few eggs that the boatmen bought for us at a nearby cottage, made up for the loss of our lamb. The coolness of the afternoon gave R—— and P—— a chance to revive their enthusiasm, and by six o'clock they could both be found practicing patience in the art of fishing.

The rattling of their reels, gave, at almost every half hour, the announcement of a bite, and hurrying in their prams to the shore, my friends, after the torture of another half hour, would, with the assistance of a gaff, place the unhappy salmon among the long grass growing on the river's brink.

The rattling of their reels signaled a bite almost every half hour, and my friends would rush in their prams to the shore. After suffering through another half hour, they would, with the help of a gaff, land the unfortunate salmon among the tall grass growing by the riverbank.

The Norwegians, and I believe, all persons who have the sense of taste developed to a most extraordinary nicety, say that the fish which are caught with the hook, are not to be compared in flavour to those taken in the net. Though I cannot account for the exquisiteness of taste, that can distinguish between one and the other plan of catching the salmon, I can very easily suppose that the pain, more or less, given in the destruction of an animal, may increase or decrease the flavour of the flesh, when used as food. A fish drawn backwards and [Pg 254]forwards through the water with a hook piercing its gills, or the more tender fibres of the stomach, till it is almost jaded to death, and then lacerated with such an instrument as the gaff, must endure such an accumulation of the most intense pain, that the sweeter juices of the flesh escape during the throes of a protracted death, and render its taste more stale and flat. But the fish, taken in the net, suffers no injury; and free from pain is instantaneously deprived of life, while the muscular parts retain all the rigour and nutriment requisite for human food.

The Norwegians, and I believe everyone with a finely tuned sense of taste, say that fish caught with a hook can't compare to those caught in a net when it comes to flavor. While I can't explain the refined taste that distinguishes between these two methods of catching salmon, I can imagine that the pain involved in killing an animal might affect the flavor of its flesh when eaten. A fish pulled back and forth through the water with a hook piercing its gills or stomach, nearly worn out before it's finally killed with a gaff, must experience such extreme pain that the tastier juices are lost during its prolonged suffering, making its taste more bland and dull. On the other hand, fish caught in a net experience no harm; they are instantly deprived of life without suffering, allowing their muscles to retain all the freshness and nutrients needed for human consumption.

R—— and P—— caught eight fish between them, varying from fifteen to twenty-five pounds' weight each; and, striking our tent, we returned in the twilight of evening to the yacht at Larvig.

R—— and P—— caught eight fish together, each weighing between fifteen and twenty-five pounds. After taking down our tent, we headed back to the yacht at Larvig as the evening twilight set in.

Nothing daunted, R—— and P—— rose again the following morning at two, and collecting their fishing apparatus, began to prepare for another jaunt up the river. They were very desirous that I should accompany them; but having had insight enough into the stratagem of salmon-fishing for the next three days, I declined.

Nothing discouraged, R—— and P—— got up again the next morning at two, gathered their fishing gear, and started getting ready for another trip up the river. They were eager for me to join them; however, having learned enough about the tactics of salmon fishing for the next three days, I decided not to.

"Well! ain't you going to get up? It's past two," I heard some one say; but not quite certain whether I was dreaming, or really awake.

"Well! Aren't you going to get up? It's past two," I heard someone say; but I wasn't really sure if I was dreaming or actually awake.

"Hollo! sleepy-head!" another voice shouted, and a strong arm shook me.

"Hellooo! Sleepyhead!" another voice yelled, and a strong arm shook me.

[Pg 255]"Eh? what is it?" I asked, rubbing my eyes, entirely bewildered as to the cause of such rough usage.

[Pg 255]“What’s going on?” I asked, rubbing my eyes, completely confused about why things were so rough.

"Come! look alive, if you're coming. The sun's up, and we must be off," the last speaker continued. I could not conceive where I had promised to go; nor could I make out what the sun had to do with my movements. A second violent shake roused me.

"Come on! Wake up if you’re coming. The sun’s up, and we need to go," the last speaker said. I couldn’t remember where I had said I would go; nor could I figure out what the sun had to do with my plans. A second jolt woke me up.

"I am awake!" I said pettishly. "What do you want; who are you?"

"I’m awake!" I said irritably. "What do you want? Who are you?"

"Get up, you great muff!" the loud voice again exclaimed from the centre of the cabin. I sat up in my bed. From my berth I could see into the main cabin. R—— and P—— in their short fishing coats, and jack-boots, were standing round the cabin table, and drinking some preparation of milk, rum, and egg.

"Get up, you big lazy bum!" the loud voice shouted again from the middle of the cabin. I sat up in my bed. From my bunk, I could see into the main cabin. R—— and P——, wearing their short fishing coats and waterproof boots, were gathered around the cabin table, drinking some mix of milk, rum, and egg.

"It's capital, isn't it?" I heard P—— say.

"It's great, isn't it?" I heard P—— say.

"Splendid!" R—— replied. "Let's have it every morning."

"Awesome!" R—— replied. "Let's do it every morning."

"Ha! many a time," P—— continued, "I have swallowed this just before going to morning parade. It's the best thing in the world on an empty stomach. Here's a little more." And he filled R——'s glass.

"Ha! Many times," P—— continued, "I've downed this right before heading to morning parade. It's the best thing ever on an empty stomach. Here’s a bit more." And he filled R——'s glass.

"Where are you going so early?" I asked, quite forgetful that we were even in Norway.

"Where are you off to so early?" I asked, completely forgetting we were even in Norway.

"Why, to fish, of course," replied R——.

"Why, to fish, of course," replied R——.

[Pg 256]"What else do you suppose we are going to do? Come along."

[Pg 256] "What else do you think we’re going to do? Let’s go."

"No; not this morning," I said, falling back on my pillow. "I am tired."

"No, not this morning," I said, sinking back into my pillow. "I'm tired."

"Pooh! what humbug! you've been in bed ever since twelve. What more do you want?" replied one of them.

"Ugh! what nonsense! You've been in bed since noon. What else do you want?" replied one of them.

"A little more," I answered, making myself as snug as I could; for I had really not slept an hour.

"A little more," I replied, getting as comfortable as I could; because I really hadn’t slept at all.

"That's just like you, always pulling another way," R—— observed. "What's the good of remaining here all alone, when you might gaff for me? It's so unsociable!"

"That's just like you, always going in another direction," R—— noted. "What's the point of staying here all alone when you could join me? It's so antisocial!"

"Hang the gaffing!" I answered.

"Forget the gaffing!" I answered.

"If you don't like to gaff," suggested R——, "take the little rifle and shoot an eagle or two. That's better than remaining behind; and we can go to bed early to-night."

"If you don't want to fish," suggested R——, "take the small rifle and shoot an eagle or two. That's better than just hanging around; and we can hit the hay early tonight."

"Why can't you go without me?" I said. "I don't care about fishing, and I do about comfort; for I feel now as if I had not been to bed at all."

"Why can't you go without me?" I said. "I don't care about fishing, and I care about comfort; right now I feel like I haven't slept at all."

This indifference to a sport, they both deemed the most exciting, caused them to upbraid me, till half-past two, with such epithets as, "an old woman," "a shocking cockney," "a fellow only fit to wear white kid gloves," "a Regent Street swell," "a land lubber," "a milk sop," and a multitude of other curious idioms, that rather made me merry than clashed with my pride.

This indifference to a sport, which they both considered the most exciting, led them to scold me until half-past two with names like "an old woman," "a terrible cockney," "a guy only fit to wear white gloves," "a Regent Street snob," "a landlubber," "a wimp," and a bunch of other odd phrases that made me laugh more than hurt my pride.

[Pg 257]About ten o'clock, I received a note from the Consul, intimating that a party of ladies desired to see the yacht, and requested he might bring them on board. I replied that I could, in the absence of R——, undertake to say how cordially he would have granted his permission, and flatteringly he would have felt the compliment, had he been present, and I begged that the Consul would act as if the vessel were his own. Three hours afterwards, I saw several boats, filled with ladies, shoot out from a little bay, on the starboard bow of the yacht, and gliding as swiftly through the smooth water as the two rowers to each boat could force them, soon clustered round the gangway. Thirteen young ladies, the Consul being the only gentleman among them, jumped lightly on board; and as they followed, interminably, one after the other, I never felt the responsibility of any position so impressively, as I did the present one. The young ladies, however, were all Norwegian, except one; so that I had not much trouble in talking to them, their native tongue, or the German, being the only two languages they could understand, and of both of which I was almost ignorant.

[Pg 257]Around ten o'clock, I got a note from the Consul, letting me know that a group of ladies wanted to see the yacht and asked if he could bring them on board. I replied that without R——, I could assure him how warmly he would have agreed and how flattered he would have felt by the request if he had been there, and I requested that the Consul treat the vessel as if it were his own. Three hours later, I saw several boats filled with ladies emerge from a small bay on the yacht's starboard side, gliding quickly through the calm water powered by the two rowers in each boat, and soon they gathered around the gangway. Thirteen young ladies, with the Consul as the only gentleman among them, hopped lightly on board; and as they kept coming aboard, one after another, I felt the weight of my position more than ever. However, all the young ladies were Norwegian except for one, so I didn’t have much trouble communicating with them since their native language or German were the only two languages they understood, and I was almost completely unfamiliar with both.

Although I could not enter into conversation with them, I felt it was my bounden duty to contribute by some device, or the other, to the entertainment of these young ladies. Knowing the partiality of my own countrywomen to music, I hazarded the idea, that the Norwegian [Pg 258]ladies were filled with an equal admiration for waltzes and polkas; and being fortunately possessed of two very large musical boxes, I wound them up. When these boxes began to play, my fair visitors were much delighted with their ingenious mechanism, and for some short time listened to them with wonder and delight; but at last, in harmonious movement to their sweet notes, these children put their little arms round each other's waists and began to dance. The elder girls, catching the mood, clasped their companions by the hand, and begged them to join the merry group. In ten minutes not one girl was sitting still; and she who could not get a partner, placed her arms a-kimbo, and whirled up and down the deck alone.

Although I couldn't talk to them, I felt it was my duty to contribute in some way to the enjoyment of these young ladies. Knowing how much my fellow countrywomen love music, I took a chance and thought that the Norwegian ladies might also appreciate waltzes and polkas. Luckily, I had two very large music boxes, so I wound them up. When the music started, my lovely visitors were excited by the clever mechanism, and for a little while, they listened in awe and joy. Eventually, in sync with the sweet notes, the girls wrapped their little arms around each other and began to dance. The older girls, catching the vibe, took their friends by the hand and encouraged them to join the fun. In just ten minutes, not a single girl was sitting still; those without partners put their hands on their hips and twirled around the deck all alone.

A Norwegian gentleman had asked me to dine with him, and as R—— and P—— would not return much before midnight, I did not decline an invitation that was not only hospitable, but would give me an opportunity of seeing more of the habits and character of his countrymen. The dinner was prepared at an early hour, one, or two, o'clock. The style of cookery was the same as in England; except the manner in which the salmon is dressed, for it is cut up into small junks and fried; but the most ordinary, and esteemed way of eating the salmon is to smoke it, which is nothing more or less than an excuse for swallowing the fish raw.

A Norwegian man invited me to dinner, and since R—— and P—— wouldn't be back until close to midnight, I gladly accepted his kind invitation. It not only showed his hospitality but also gave me a chance to learn more about the customs and character of his fellow countrymen. The dinner was set for an early hour, around one or two o'clock. The cooking style was similar to what you’d find in England, except for how they prepare the salmon, which is cut into small pieces and fried. However, the most common and favored way to eat salmon here is to smoke it, which is really just a way to enjoy the fish raw.

After dinner, the host filled two glasses of [Pg 259]wine, one for himself, and one for me; and sidling close up to my chair, placed himself arm and arm with me. I could not understand his meaning, and watched with no little anxiety the next act of familiarity he would commit. My eyes glanced round the table; but the gravity of every man's face was ecclesiastical in the extreme. Without unlocking his arm from mine, the Norwegian raised his glass in the air, and motioned with his hand to me to do the same. I did so. He then drank off the wine, and bade me drink in like manner. I did that likewise. I had thus followed my friend's injunctions, and had scarcely, with a smile, replaced on the table the glass I had drained, when I received a box on the ear. Starting from my chair at the unprovoked assault, I was about to break the decanter over the Norwegian's head, when a gentleman seized hold of my right hand, and begged me to be pacified, for that it was merely the usage of the country in pledging to the health of a friend. He said my host would be highly gratified by my retaliation.

After dinner, the host filled two glasses of [Pg 259]wine, one for himself and one for me; then he sidled up to my chair and linked his arm with mine. I didn't understand what he was getting at and watched anxiously to see what familiar gesture he would make next. I glanced around the table, but every man’s face looked extremely serious, almost like a church service. Without letting go of my arm, the Norwegian lifted his glass in the air and signaled for me to do the same. I complied. He then downed his wine and urged me to do the same. I followed his lead, and just as I set my empty glass back on the table with a smile, I received a slap on the face. Jumping up from my chair at the sudden attack, I was ready to smash the decanter over the Norwegian's head when a gentleman grabbed my right hand and asked me to calm down, explaining that it was just the custom in their country when toasting to a friend's health. He said my host would actually appreciate my reaction.

"We have simply then been drinking each other's health?" I asked.

"We've just been toasting to each other's health?" I asked.

"No more, sir," my mediator replied.

"No more, sir," my mediator said.

Ashamed of my hasty and most unmannerly conduct, I gave the amicable cuff, and all was merriment again.

Ashamed of my rude and impulsive behavior, I offered a friendly gesture, and everything was fun again.

When we rose from table, the whole company commenced shaking hands with each [Pg 260]other, and coming up to me, one after the other, each guest took my hand, and

When we got up from the table, everyone started shaking hands with each other, and coming up to me one by one, each guest took my hand, and

"Tak for maden," he said.

"Thanks for the meal," he said.

This was another mysterious usage I could not unravel. A few days afterwards, amid the general din of the same ceremony, I asked a young lady, who spoke French, what it all meant; and she then told me it was an ancient habit of returning thanks for a good dinner.

This was another mysterious usage I couldn’t figure out. A few days later, amidst the general noise of the same ceremony, I asked a young woman who spoke French what it all meant; she then told me it was an old tradition of giving thanks for a good dinner.

"But I have given them no dinner," I said.

"But I haven't fed them dinner," I said.

"That is true," replied my fair informant; "but they thank you all the same."

"That's true," my fair informant replied, "but they appreciate it just the same."

While she spoke, a Norwegian gentleman took possession of her hand, and exclaimed,

While she was talking, a Norwegian man grabbed her hand and exclaimed,

"Tak for maden!" while a second did the same with my hand, and repeating similar words, passed on all round the table.

"Thanks for the food!" while another did the same with my hand, and repeating similar words, went around the table.

FOOTNOTES:

[3] "Ja," pronounced "yar," signifies "yes," in the Norwegian language.

[3] "Ja," pronounced "yar," means "yes" in Norwegian.






CHAPTER XIV.

ANOTHER FISHING EXCURSION—LANDING A SALMON—THE CARRIOLE—BOATS ROWED BY LADIES—DEPARTURE FROM LARVIG—CHRISTIANSAND HARBOUR—RETURN TO BOOM—SINCERE WELCOME—ANGLING AT THE FALLS—THE FORSAKEN ANGLER—A MISUNDERSTANDING—RECONCILIATION—ST. JOHN'S DAY—SIMPLICITY OF MANNERS.

ANOTHER FISHING TRIP—CATCHING A SALMON—THE CARRIOLE—BOATS ROWED BY WOMEN—LEAVING LARVIG—CHRISTIANSAND HARBOUR—RETURN TO BOOM—HEARTFELT WELCOME—FISHING AT THE FALLS—THE LEFT-OUT ANGLER—A MISUNDERSTANDING—MAKING UP—ST. JOHN'S DAY—SIMPLE MANNERISMS.


On Tuesday morning, at three, I joined R—— and P——, and took a second trip up the river, to indulge in this pastime of angling.

On Tuesday morning, at three, I met up with R—— and P——, and we made a second trip up the river to enjoy our hobby of fishing.

When we arrived on our fishing ground, the salmon were seen springing two or three feet [Pg 261]out of the water into the air, a sign not always good for the sportsman; for the Norwegians say, that when the fish begin to leap out of the water, they are moving up the river, and disinclined to take food. It was entertaining to observe them, as they leaped in various places, from rock to rock, up the stream of the Foss; and although they would be brought back by the immense volume of water, nothing disheartened, would repeat the leap again and again. Seated in the pram, I watched in the clear stream, the caution with which some of the salmon approached the fly, and after darting away from it, returned and sported round it, as if perfectly aware of the deceitful manner by which the hook was hid; but in a reckless moment, just as the fly was moved along the top of the water, resembling the living insect with such exactitude that I could be deceived, they would make a sullen plunge, and then as if aware of the foolish act they had committed, secure their death by running away with the whole line before they could possibly feel the hook. A slight jerk is given to the tackle, and their doom is sealed.

When we got to our fishing spot, we saw salmon jumping two or three feet [Pg 261] out of the water, which isn't always a good sign for anglers. The Norwegians say that when fish start leaping, they're heading upstream and aren’t really interested in eating. It was fascinating to watch them jump from rock to rock upstream through the Foss, and even though the strong current would push them back, they never seemed discouraged and kept leaping again and again. Sitting in the boat, I observed the cautious way some of the salmon approached the fly; after darting away, they would circle it as if they knew exactly how the hook was hidden. But in a reckless moment, just as the fly was being moved across the surface, looking just like a live insect, they would suddenly jump in, and realizing their mistake, they'd dash away with the whole line before even feeling the hook. A quick tug on the line, and their fate is sealed.

I saw one salmon caught through his own folly; for had he been less violent, he might have gratified his curiosity by tasting the fabricated fly, and could, when he found that it was nothing more than a macaw's feather, have quietly spitten it out; but as soon as the hook lanced his lip, the fish made a leap of several [Pg 262]feet above the surface, and on falling into the river again, shot like a silver arrow, towards any weed or rock he saw, sheltering himself behind it, as if he deemed this retreat secure. But when he felt a motive power, over which he had no control, gently drawing him by the head from his old abode, and the consequent slight, shooting pang of the hook, away he flew, right up towards the pram, flapped his tail furiously to the right and left, and then bounced about his native pool, indignant of the vile trick that had been played him. R——, was soon rowed to the bank, and I stood by his side gaff in hand.

I saw a salmon get caught because of its own foolishness; if it had been less aggressive, it could have satisfied its curiosity by tasting the fake fly and, when it realized it was just a macaw's feather, could have simply spit it out. But as soon as the hook pierced its lip, the fish jumped several [Pg 262] feet into the air and, when it fell back into the river, shot like a silver arrow toward any weeds or rocks it could find, trying to hide behind them as if it thought it was safe there. But when it felt a force pulling it gently by the head from its old spot, along with the sharp sting of the hook, it took off right towards the pram, flailed its tail wildly to the left and right, and then flopped around its home pool, outraged at the trick that had been played on it. R—— was soon rowed to the bank, and I stood by his side with the gaff in hand.

"Look out," said R——, in an under tone; and, turning up the sleeve of my coat, I gave the gaff the full length of the handle. The fish, however, saw me move, and like a flash of lightning, clove the water to its lowest depth. The line passed with such rapidity between R——'s thumb and forefinger, that it almost cut them off.

"Watch out," said R——, quietly; and, rolling up the sleeve of my coat, I extended the gaff to its full length. The fish, though, noticed my movement and, like a bolt of lightning, dove to the bottom of the water. The line flew past R——'s thumb and forefinger so fast that it nearly sliced them.

The manœuvring of ten minutes more brought the salmon within a few feet of the bank, and crawling through the rushes, I remained ready to perform my part of the tragedy. Near and nearer, turned on his back, and panting laboriously, the fish allowed himself to be drawn towards the shore. Lowering the gaff slowly into the stream, till I guessed it was two or three inches below the fish, and then making a sudden lunge, I pierced the soft part of the [Pg 263]stomach a little behind the two fore fins, and lifted the salmon from the water.

The maneuvering for another ten minutes brought the salmon within a few feet of the bank, and crawling through the reeds, I stayed ready to play my part in the drama. Closer and closer, turned on its back and breathing heavily, the fish allowed itself to be pulled toward the shore. Lowering the gaff slowly into the water until I estimated it was two or three inches below the fish, I then made a quick thrust, piercing the soft part of the [Pg 263]stomach a little behind the two front fins, and lifted the salmon from the water.

"You did that devilish well," exclaimed R——, hurrying up to remove the hook. The salmon plunged in every direction violently; and it was with great difficulty I could keep my hold of the gaff.

"You did that really well," exclaimed R——, rushing over to remove the hook. The salmon thrashed around violently in every direction, and I struggled to keep a grip on the gaff.

"Make haste," I said, "or he will be off the gaff; see, how the flesh of the stomach is ripping!"

"Move quickly," I said, "or he'll be done for; look, the flesh of his stomach is tearing!"

And so it was. The weight of the salmon was sufficient to tear the tender part of the flesh under the stomach, and the longer I held the fish from the ground to allow R—— to remove the hook, the more probable it appeared, that, the salmon by his furious struggles, would lacerate and divide the flesh, and fall from the gaff.

And that's how it happened. The weight of the salmon was enough to rip the tender flesh under its belly, and the longer I held the fish off the ground for R—— to take out the hook, the more likely it seemed that the salmon, with its furious thrashing, would tear the flesh apart and slip off the gaff.

"Poor wretch!" said R——, as he strove to unfasten the hook from the ligaments of the jaw, "I am keeping him in his pain a long time; but I can't help it."

"Poor thing!" said R——, as he tried to unhook the ligaments from the jaw, "I'm making him suffer longer than I want to; but I can't do anything about it."

"I must put him on the ground," I observed, when the fish by its struggles nearly twisted the gaff from my hand.

"I have to get him on the ground," I said, as the fish fought so hard that it almost yanked the gaff out of my hand.

"No; for heaven's sake, don't!" exclaimed R——. "He'll knock both of us into the water if you do. There," continued R——, holding the hook, at last, in his hand, and cleansing it from slime and gore on the cuff of his coat, "put him down;" and opening a clasp-knife, he ran the blade into the crown of the [Pg 264]salmon's head. The creaking sound of the bone as it yielded to the passage of the sharp knife, like the cutting of a cork, made my teeth ache. The fish stirred not; but the blood trickled from his mouth in small bubbles, and stretching out all his fins, as a bird would stretch its wings to fly, a spasmodic shudder succeeded, and then the fins gradually relaxed and adhered close to his sides, while the blood still oozed from the mouth and gills, and striking his tail once or twice on the ground, the salmon seemed to fix his round, staring, glassy eye on me, as if in accusation of the torture I had caused, and gaping, died.

"No; for goodness' sake, don't!" R—— shouted. "He'll knock us both into the water if you do. There," R—— said, finally holding the hook in his hand and cleaning off the slime and gore on his coat cuff, "put him down." Then, opening a clasp knife, he inserted the blade into the top of the [Pg 264]salmon's head. The sound of the bone cracking as the sharp knife went through it, like the sound of cutting a cork, made my teeth ache. The fish didn’t move; blood dripped from its mouth in tiny bubbles, and it stretched all its fins out like a bird might stretch its wings to fly. A sudden shudder followed, and then the fins slowly relaxed and pressed against its sides, while blood continued to ooze from its mouth and gills. The salmon slapped its tail on the ground a couple of times and seemed to fix its round, staring, glassy eye on me, as if accusing me of the pain I had caused, before gaping and dying.

"If I ever gaff another fish, may I be gaffed myself," I said.

"If I ever catch another fish with a gaff, may I be caught myself," I said.

"Fish do not feel so acutely as you imagine," replied R——, wiping the penknife on his handkerchief with the coolness of an anatomical operator; "all the quivering you observe is not from actual pain, but merely from muscular action."

"Fish don't feel as intensely as you think," replied R——, wiping the penknife on his handkerchief with the calmness of a surgeon; "all the wriggling you see isn't from real pain, but just from muscle movement."

"Well, I am not surgeon enough to know that," I answered; "but if you talk for three years, you will never persuade me that a fish does not feel, as well as every other creature, in proportion to its size, the anguish of bodily torture as sensibly as you, or I."

"Well, I’m not a surgeon, so I can't say for sure," I replied; "but if you talk for three years, you’ll never convince me that a fish doesn’t feel just like any other creature, experiencing physical pain just as acutely as you or I do, relative to its size."

"Never mind arguments," cried R——, "here, let's see what he weighs."

"Forget the arguments," shouted R——, "let's just see how much he weighs."

And R—— drew from his coat-pocket, a small balance that he always carried about [Pg 265]with him, and hooking the defunct salmon on it, held it up.

And R—— pulled a small scale from his coat pocket that he always carried with him [Pg 265] and, hanging the dead salmon on it, held it up.

"Twenty-two pounds to a fraction," he said; and took a little book from his other pocket, and noted down the weight. Casting up the figures to himself in a sort of whisper common to all calculators, R—— observed aloud, when he had concluded his addition,

"Twenty-two pounds to a fraction," he said, pulling a small notebook from his other pocket to jot down the weight. Quietly calculating the numbers to himself in that way all calculators do, R—— remarked out loud once he finished his addition,

"I have killed forty-five pounds myself. That's not so bad, eh? Come on;" and hurrying into his pram, was rowed away.

"I've caught forty-five pounds myself. Not too shabby, right? Let's go;" and he quickly got into his pram and was rowed away.

I did not remain much longer on the bank of the river, and desiring a change, I walked towards the road that ran parallel with the stream. A Norwegian peasant, driving a carriole soon overtook me, and asking him in the most grammatical and simple manner I could, if he were returning to Larvig, he made me a long speech in reply; but beseeching him in my second address to give me a monosyllabic answer, either affirmatively or negatively, as I was a foreigner, the man bowed his head till his chin came in contact with the bone of his chest, and said,

I didn’t stay long on the riverbank, and wanting a change, I walked toward the road that ran alongside the stream. A Norwegian farmer driving a small cart soon caught up with me. I asked him, in the clearest and simplest way I could, if he was heading back to Larvig. He replied with a long speech, but when I requested him again to give me a one-word answer, either yes or no, since I was a foreigner, the man bowed his head until his chin touched his chest and said,

"Ja!"

"Yes!"

I then asked him if he were as desirous of letting his carriole, as I was of hiring it; and he again said,

I then asked him if he wanted to rent out his carriage as much as I wanted to hire it; and he replied again,

"Ja!"

"Yes!"

I tendered several small silver coins, amounting to an ort, a piece of Norwegian money [Pg 266]equivalent in value to eight-pence sterling, and begged the peasant to tell me if the offer were sufficiently generous. He counted the coins in the palm of my hand. When he had done so, he smiled, and said,

I offered several small silver coins, amounting to an ort, a type of Norwegian currency [Pg 266] worth about eight pence in British money, and asked the peasant if my offer was generous enough. He counted the coins in my palm. Once he finished, he smiled and said,

"Ja, tak;" and shaking hands with me, he gave me the rope reins.

"Yes, thank you;" and shaking hands with me, he handed me the rope reins.

The carriole is an elegant, comfortable, but most unsociable vehicle; for it is as unfit to hold two persons, as an ordinary arm-chair. To sit properly in a carriole, you should be rather round-shouldered, as its shape is not unlike half a walnut, scooped out. The post-boy sits behind, or stands up, as a groom does in England; but his position must be uncomfortable in the extreme, as the carriole has no springs, and bounds and jumps heavily over ruts and pebbles, causing him to fidget at intervals, and make an exclamation of discomfort most irregularly. The shafts and wheels are slight, and the body painted uniformly of a chocolate colour. The foot-board is not larger than a tea-tray, about six inches square, and in order to reach it, the legs are so extended as to bring the tip of the toes and the apex of the knees on the same plane. Nor does the driver look down on his horse, as he would in England; but the eye has a level view along the back of the animal, and his neck, or wooden collar obstructs any further perspective.

The carriole is an elegant, comfortable, but very unsociable vehicle; it's as unfit for two people as a regular armchair. To sit properly in a carriole, you should be somewhat round-shouldered since its shape resembles half a walnut that's been hollowed out. The post-boy sits behind or stands up like a groom does in England, but his position must be extremely uncomfortable because the carriole has no springs. It bumps and jumps heavily over ruts and pebbles, making him fidget and occasionally exclaim in discomfort. The shafts and wheels are lightweight, and the body is painted a solid chocolate color. The footboard is no bigger than a tea tray, about six inches square, and to reach it, the legs are extended so that the tips of the toes and the tops of the knees are on the same level. The driver doesn’t look down at his horse like he would in England; instead, he has a straight view along the horse's back, and its neck or wooden collar blocks any further sight.

I could not make the man, or skydsgut, as he is called, who accompanied me, understand [Pg 267]ten consecutive words I spoke; but asking a multitude of questions, I thought I must have collected a multitude of information. Disliking the dulness of my companion, I drove at a swift pace, but the skydsgut did not seem to like it, and several times I could guess from his manner, that he was expostulating with me. The Norwegians love their horses with the strong, feminine devotion of Arabs, and it is not an uncommon sight to see the skydsgut, if he be a boy, burst into a passionate fit of tears should you lash his horse twice in a mile. He will strive to tell his grief, but if the language of his sorrow be not understood, he will cover his face with his hands, and weep aloud by the road side. The Norwegians have given Englishmen the credit of being impatient travellers, and from their desire to pass over the greatest quantity of ground in the smallest quantity of time, they are said to use the whip more frequently than is necessary. I do not know that this is an incorrect opinion. As one man has peculiarities that another man has not, so one nation may be noted for eccentricities, of which another nation is devoid; and, for my own part, I am inclined to think, that, however superciliously Englishmen may regard the usages and habits of foreigners, there are no people who give strangers a truer idea of maniacs than Englishmen themselves.

I couldn't get the guy, or skydsgut, as he’s called, who was with me, to understand [Pg 267] ten consecutive words I said; but by asking a ton of questions, I thought I must have gathered a lot of information. Not enjoying my companion’s dullness, I drove at a fast pace, but the skydsgut didn’t seem to like it, and several times I could tell from his behavior that he was trying to communicate his discontent. Norwegians love their horses with the strong, caring devotion like that of Arabs, and it’s not uncommon to see a skydsgut, if he’s a boy, burst into tears if you whip his horse twice in a mile. He’ll try to express his sorrow, but if his language isn’t understood, he’ll cover his face with his hands and cry out by the roadside. Norwegians think of Englishmen as impatient travelers, and because they want to cover as much ground as possible in the least amount of time, they say we use the whip more often than needed. I can’t say that this is an unfair opinion. Just as one man has quirks that another doesn’t, one nation can be known for eccentricities that another lacks; and for my part, I tend to think that, no matter how superior Englishmen may feel about the customs and habits of foreigners, there are no people who better show a true glimpse of madness than the English themselves.

R—— and P——, returned in the evening with a boat full of salmon, and one fine fish, [Pg 268]weighing nearly thirty-two pounds, was smoked and prepared to be sent as a present to England. I passed the whole of the subsequent day at Larvig, and the Consul begged, that as I was alone, I would dine with him. I accepted his invitation. After dinner, in the cool of the afternoon, his daughters, two very lady-like and pretty girls, requested me to join an excursion they were about to make across the fiord, to the opposite shore. These ladies would insist upon rowing the boat the whole distance, upwards of two miles, themselves. I objected for a time; but when they told me it was the custom of the country, and, that the art of sculling was as much an accomplishment as the softer allurements of the harp, or guitar, I felt more reconciled, and fully appreciated an honour that could never be offered to me again.

R—— and P—— returned in the evening with a boat full of salmon, and one impressive fish, [Pg 268]weighing almost thirty-two pounds, was smoked and prepared to be sent as a gift to England. I spent the entire next day in Larvig, and the Consul requested that since I was alone, I would join him for dinner. I accepted his invitation. After dinner, in the cool of the afternoon, his daughters, two very elegant and pretty girls, invited me to join them on an excursion across the fiord to the opposite shore. These ladies insisted on rowing the boat the whole distance, over two miles, by themselves. I hesitated at first, but when they told me it was a local custom, and that the skill of sculling was as much an accomplishment as playing the harp or guitar, I felt more at ease and recognized the honor that would likely never come my way again.

At half-past ten o'clock, shortly after we had returned from our trip, and while I was standing on a high rock, from which an extensive view of the fiord could be seen, and talking to the Consul and several ladies, a gun was fired from the yacht.

At 10:30, just after we got back from our trip, I was standing on a high rock with a great view of the fjord, chatting with the Consul and a few ladies, when a gun went off from the yacht.

"His Lordship is returned," said the Consul to me, "and I think that is for you."

"His Lordship is back," the Consul said to me, "and I think that's for you."

"If it be so, they will fire again," I replied. The echo of the cable, as the men began to heave it, left the Consul's conjecture no longer chimerical; and after a little while, the flash and report of another gun leaped one after [Pg 269]the other, from crag to crag, through the dusk of evening, and whirling above our heads, bounded over the summit of the mountain.

"If that's the case, they'll shoot again," I replied. The echo of the cable, as the men started to haul it in, made the Consul's guess no longer a fantasy; and after a little while, the flash and sound of another gun went off one after the other, from cliff to cliff, through the evening dusk, and whirled above our heads, bouncing over the mountain's peak.

"Come, there's no doubt now," observed the Consul, turning round towards me.

"Come on, there's no doubt about it now," the Consul said, turning to me.

"No," I answered; "but they don't suppose I can get on board without a boat."

"No," I replied; "but they don't think I can get on board without a boat."

"You can have mine, with pleasure;" and the Consul, addressing his little son, desired that a boat should be kept in readiness.

"You can have mine, gladly;" and the Consul, speaking to his young son, requested that a boat be made ready.

"Oh! there! look there," exclaimed two, or three ladies, pointing towards the cutter.

"Oh! Look over there," exclaimed two or three ladies, pointing toward the cutter.

"Ay, the anchor's away," said the Consul; and the yacht, with flapping jib, began to move, like a colossal swan with erected crest, proudly through the water.

"Yeah, the anchor's up," said the Consul; and the yacht, with its flapping jib, started to glide, like a huge swan with its neck held high, proudly through the water.

The main-sail being well brailed up, the two boats were hauled alongside to the davits, and while they were being hoisted on them, a third gun was fired. The ladies, delighted with the flash and thundering of the guns, begged me to linger a little longer, that another gun might be fired; but fearful that R—— would play some mad prank, and stand out of the fiord without me, I promised the fair dames, that the next time I came to Norway, I would comply with their request, and never leave them, or Larvig again.

The mainsail was neatly pulled up, and the two boats were brought alongside the davits. As they were being lifted, a third gun fired. The ladies, thrilled by the flash and booming of the guns, asked me to stay a bit longer so another gun could be fired. However, worried that R— might do something crazy and sail away without me, I assured the lovely ladies that the next time I visited Norway, I would fulfill their wish and never leave them or Larvig again.

The Consul's eldest son soon rowed me to the yacht. When I stood on deck, and looked towards the shore, I could see the white [Pg 270]handkerchiefs of those whom I had just left, waving through the dusky air.

The Consul's oldest son quickly paddled me over to the yacht. When I stepped onto the deck and looked toward the shore, I could see the white [Pg 270]handkerchiefs of the people I had just left, waving in the dim light.

"There are some of your loves," said R—— to me.

"There are some of your loves," said R—— to me.

"They do not wish you well less than they do me," I replied.

"They don't wish you well any less than they do me," I replied.

The separation from Larvig was the feeling of a second regret I confessed since my departure from England. Dear old Larvig! It is the green oasis where recollection, ever loving, turns to rest; and where the springs of Friendship's warm simplicity, may quench the thirst of him who sighs for Sympathy upon the Desert of Society.

The separation from Larvig felt like a second regret I admitted since leaving England. Dear old Larvig! It’s the green oasis where memories, always fond, find peace; and where the sources of Friendship's genuine warmth can satisfy the longing for Sympathy in the Desert of Society.

At midnight we cleared the Larvig Fiord, and shaped our course for Christiansand. The weather had been sultry and calm; and at three o'clock in the morning, a tremendous thunder-storm spent the principal part of its anger upon us. The rain descended as if it had been spouted at the yacht through water-pipes; and the uproar of the thunder among the mountains, and the frequency and vividness with which the lightning gleamed, showing every object on the sea and land, were so terrific, that, each man turned in his hammock, and rubbing his eyes, wished to know what all the noise and light on deck were about.

At midnight, we cleared the Larvig Fiord and set our course for Kristiansand. The weather had been hot and still; then, at three in the morning, a massive thunderstorm unleashed most of its fury on us. The rain came down like it was being dumped on the yacht through fire hoses; the roar of thunder echoing off the mountains, along with the intensity and brightness of the lightning flashing, which illuminated everything on the sea and land, was so overwhelming that every man turned in his hammock, rubbed his eyes, and wanted to know what all the noise and light on deck were about.

"Lord! how it thunders!" I heard one man growl, as the peal awoke him.

"Wow! It's really thundering!" I heard one guy mutter as the noise woke him up.

"The lightning's no better," answered another, as a strong, red flash followed close after [Pg 271]the sledge-hammer blow of the clap. The officer of the watch gave some command in muffled tones, and immediately afterwards the man at the helm muttered in a gruff voice,

"The lightning's no better," another responded, as a strong, red flash quickly followed the thunderous clap. The officer on watch issued a command in low tones, and soon after, the guy at the helm muttered in a rough voice,

"Seven bells."

"Seven o'clock."

When the hour had been struck, the silence was again profound; and only the pattering of the drops of rain on the deck, as the storm receded, could be heard.

When the hour rang, the silence was deep once more; and the only sound was the light tapping of raindrops on the deck as the storm faded away.

The next morning, before I was up, there was an altercation on deck; and the word "stuff" seemed to prevail over every other.

The next morning, before I got up, there was a commotion on deck; and the word "stuff" seemed to dominate everything else.

"Here, D——," I heard R—— exclaim to the sailing master, "just look here;" and then a short pause ensued, until D—— reached the after part of the yacht, where the jolly-boat had been secured on deck.

"Hey, D——," I heard R—— call out to the sailing master, "check this out;" and then there was a brief pause until D—— made his way to the back of the yacht, where the jolly-boat was secured on the deck.

"As long as you fellows can stuff yourselves," R—— continued, "that's all you care about; but, after that, my property may go to the devil."

"As long as you guys can fill yourselves up," R—— continued, "that's all you care about; but after that, my property can go to hell."

Then there was a dialogue, in an under tone, explanatory of something that had gone wrong.

Then there was a conversation, in a low voice, explaining something that had gone wrong.

"I am sure, my Lord," pursued D——, "I am as careful as I can be, and I endeavour to make every man the same."

"I’m sure, my Lord," continued D——, "I’m as careful as I can be, and I try to make every man the same."

"It's all very fine to say so," answered R——, "but I wish you would act after the same fashion; for here's a salmon I ordered to be cured at Larvig, for the purpose of sending [Pg 272]to England as a present; and just because not one man would take the trouble to throw a piece of tarpaulin over it last night, to keep off the rain, it is perfectly spoilt."

"It's easy to say that," replied R——, "but I wish you would act the same way; I've got a salmon I asked to be cured at Larvig to send [Pg 272] to England as a gift, and just because not a single person bothered to throw a tarp over it last night to protect it from the rain, it's completely ruined."

The cured salmon had been placed in the jolly-boat the evening before, and orders were strictly given, that it should be covered during the night; but the attention paid to those orders amounted to what I have related. The salmon, however, was hung up in the shrouds, and after a great deal of trouble and attention, it was sufficiently preserved to arrive in England, three weeks afterwards, and to command the praise of every one who tasted it.

The cured salmon had been put in the small boat the night before, and there were clear instructions that it should be covered overnight; however, the care given to those instructions was lacking, as I've mentioned. The salmon was hung up in the rigging, and after a lot of effort and attention, it was well-preserved enough to reach England three weeks later and received praise from everyone who tried it.

At two o'clock in the afternoon we entered Christiansand Harbour; and taking our old berth a little to the westward of the castle, fired a salute, to let our friends know we had returned. Several gentlemen came on board, and made many inquiries about our travels; and when they had learned all, arrangements were made for us to fish in the Toptdal River, at Boom, as long as we liked.

At two o'clock in the afternoon, we entered Christiansand Harbour. We took our old spot a bit to the west of the castle and fired a salute to let our friends know we had returned. Several gentlemen came on board and asked a lot of questions about our travels. Once they had learned everything, they made plans for us to fish in the Toptdal River at Boom for as long as we wanted.

Early on Monday morning we weighed anchor, and reached up the fiord as far towards the mouth of the Toptdal River, as the depth of water would permit; and after an hour's sail, the yacht was brought up in a beautiful little bay, about three miles from Christiansand, and about four from Boom.

Early on Monday morning, we lifted the anchor and sailed into the fjord as far as the Toptdal River's mouth would allow. After an hour of sailing, we docked the yacht in a lovely little bay, about three miles from Christiansand and around four from Boom.

From a sky azure and warm as in an oriental clime, not a cloud was reflected on the smooth, [Pg 273]transparent water, and scarcely a breath of air stirred the leaves of the trees. So absolute was the stillness, that the voices of fishermen, who dwelt among the rocks, could be heard in conversation, although their forms were diminished by distance to the size of a rook.

From a clear blue sky, warm like in a tropical paradise, not a single cloud was mirrored on the calm, [Pg 273]transparent water, and hardly a whisper of wind moved the leaves of the trees. The silence was so complete that the voices of fishermen living among the rocks could be heard chatting, even though they appeared so small from a distance that they looked like tiny crows.

At five o'clock we were at Boom again, and our friend the Anglo-Norwegian was shaking us by the hand. His eyes sparkled with delight at the renewal of our acquaintance; and promising us the best of sport, he led us towards the cottage in which we had lodged on our first visit. The peasant, our landlord, came forth to the cottage door, pipe in hand, to salute us; while his wife gazed at us through a small window; and, when she caught our glance, smiled, with a sunnier language on her face than she could have uttered with her tongue, the sincerity of her joy to see us once more. I felt as if I had been a long time a wanderer, and had returned home. The three beds in the cottage were ordered to be got ready for us, and a lodging in a neighbouring farm-house was secured for the four men who had rowed the gig.

At five o'clock, we were back at Boom, and our friend the Anglo-Norwegian was eagerly shaking our hands. His eyes sparkled with excitement at seeing us again, and promising us a great time, he led us toward the cottage where we had stayed during our first visit. The peasant, our landlord, came out to the cottage door with a pipe in hand to greet us, while his wife looked at us through a small window. When she caught our eye, she smiled, her expression brighter than any words could convey, showing her genuine happiness to see us again. I felt like I had been away for a long time and was finally home. The three beds in the cottage were arranged for us, and a place at a nearby farmhouse was secured for the four men who had rowed the boat.

The fish did not take the fly willingly, for only one or two were caught between R—— and P——; but the amazing number of salmon that kept leaping out of the water, during the whole afternoon, bade us not despair of being more prosperous on the morrow. The Toptdal [Pg 274]River is the property of a celebrated merchant resident at Christiansand, and he derives a considerable income from the sale of fish caught in it. It is one of the most famous salmon streams in the south of Norway; and its celebrity may in some way be tested when I state, that, two and three hundred salmon have been taken in the nets in the course of one day at Boom, and the same quantity has been continued through several successive days. Great numbers are still caught, but not in such multitudes as formerly; and the diminution is ascribed to the circumstance of no law existing in Norway to protect, or rather, preserve the salmon at certain seasons; and poaching has been, of late years, so extensive, that unless the Government take a little more care of a fish that has become almost a staple commodity of the country, and arrest the nefarious system at present without bounds, the extinction of salmon in the southern rivers of Norway must be immediate and complete. Indeed, we visited some places which a few years ago were famous for the beauty, size, and multiplicity of their salmon; but we were told on our arrival, that, not a fish was now to be caught or seen, from the mouths to the sources of these rivers.

The fish didn’t take the fly easily, as only one or two were caught between R—— and P——; however, the astonishing number of salmon leaping out of the water throughout the afternoon gave us hope for better luck tomorrow. The Toptdal [Pg 274] River belongs to a well-known merchant living in Christiansand, and he makes a significant income from selling the fish caught in it. It’s one of the most famous salmon streams in southern Norway, and its reputation is evident when I mention that two to three hundred salmon have been caught in the nets in a single day at Boom, with the same numbers consistently reported over several days. Many are still caught, but not in the large quantities they once were; the decline is attributed to the lack of laws in Norway to protect—or rather, preserve—the salmon during certain seasons. Poaching has become so widespread in recent years that unless the government takes better care of a fish that has become almost a staple of the country and puts an end to the rampant system in place, the extinction of salmon in southern Norway's rivers will be swift and complete. In fact, we visited some locations that were once renowned for their beautiful, large, and plentiful salmon; however, we were informed upon our arrival that no fish were now to be found or seen, from the mouths to the sources of these rivers.

Early in the morning, by daylight, I heard R—— and P—— pulling on their jack-boots, and winding and unwinding their tackle. The clicking noise of their reels awoke me.

Early in the morning, when it was light out, I heard R—— and P—— putting on their boots and organizing their gear. The clicking sound of their reels woke me up.

[Pg 275]The Toptdal River is uninterrupted by rapids from Christiansand up to our cottage, but as I mentioned, there is before the door a tremendous fall, and a pool of great depth has been formed, by the eternal force and action of the tumbling water. This pool is nearly circular, and about a quarter of a mile in circumference. A large rock, considerably above the level of the water, stands in the middle of this pool; and perched on it the sportsman may presume that he has attained the most choice position for angling. From this rock, made slippery by the ascending spray of the cataract, Mr. H——, the gentleman to whom I have referred as the proprietor of this river, is wont to fish; and he is allowed to be one of the most distinguished and sagacious anglers in the vicinity of Christiansand or Boom.

[Pg 275]The Toptdal River flows smoothly without any rapids from Christiansand to our cottage. However, right outside the door, there's an impressive waterfall that has created a deep pool due to the relentless force of the rushing water. This pool is nearly circular and about a quarter mile around. In the middle of this pool stands a large rock that rises well above the water level, providing the perfect spot for fishing. Mr. H——, the owner of this river, often fishes from this slippery rock, covered in mist from the waterfall, and he is considered one of the most skilled and knowledgeable anglers in the Christiansand or Boom area.

Pursuant to the mode of the country, and the recommendation of the natives, my two companions embarked in a pram to seek the piscatory treasures of this pool. The surface of the water was not so clear and smooth as at Larvig; for it boiled and eddied, and the wrath of the thundering cataract made it white as Parian marble. R—— and P——, notwithstanding the difficulty of throwing their flies daintily, from the uneasy motion of the pram, discovered another more serious obstacle to this united possession of the same pram; for, now and then, P——'s silver pheasant fly would buz very close to R——'s right ear, and [Pg 276]R——'s white moth fly would hover around and settle at last on P——'s pepper-and-salt cloth cap, and whisk it into the water. In short, the danger of proximity in fly fishing was as obvious as the deductions of any mathematical problem. The union could not exist. A remedy was to be found; and P—— sat down on the grating over the well of the pram, and gave himself to contemplation. His inquisitive mind lost no time.

According to the customs of the land and the advice of the locals, my two friends set out in a small boat to hunt for the fish in this pond. The water wasn't as clear and calm as it was in Larvig; it was churning and swirling, and the power of the thundering waterfall made it as white as fine marble. R—— and P——, despite the challenge of casting their lines gracefully because of the boat's rocky movement, faced another more serious issue with sharing the same boat; occasionally, P——'s silver pheasant fly would buzz dangerously close to R——'s right ear, while R——'s white moth fly would flutter around and eventually land on P——'s pepper-and-salt cloth cap, knocking it into the water. In short, the risks of being close to each other while fly fishing were as clear as any math problem. They couldn't share the space. A solution needed to be found, so P—— sat down on the grating over the boat's well and entered a state of deep thought. His curious mind wasted no time.

"Hollo!" he suddenly exclaimed, "there's that rock; can't I get on it?"

"Holy!" he suddenly exclaimed, "there’s that rock; can’t I get on it?"

"Let's pull and see," assented R——; and the boatman was desired to row towards it. When the pram was driven by the force of the whirling stream against the rock, P—— jumped on it, but nearly slid off on the other side.

"Let's pull and see," agreed R——; and the boatman was asked to row toward it. When the small boat was pushed by the rushing water against the rock, P—— jumped onto it but nearly slipped off the other side.

"Oh! ah! this is capital," he said, raising himself cautiously by the aid of both hands. "This will do."

"Oh! wow! this is great," he said, carefully pushing himself up with both hands. "This works."

And having, after several efforts, stood upright, he commenced untwisting his line from the rod.

And after several attempts, he stood up straight and started to untangle his line from the rod.

"All right?" asked R——, impatient to begin.

"All set?" asked R——, eager to start.

"Yes, all right," replied P——; and away the pram, borne by the thousand intertwining currents, shot with R——.

"Sure, fine," replied P——; and off the pram went, carried by the thousand intertwining currents, along with R——.

The high peaks of the mountains now began to shine in the rising sun, and, like the ebbing surface of an ocean, the line of light gradually descended towards the valley. One by one, [Pg 277]the cattle came forth from their sheds; and the cock, flapping his wing, stood a tip-toe, and crew most lustily. Under the weather-vane, on the farm-house roof, the pigeons trimmed their feathers, and cooed. Unfelt the coolness of the morning air, (for they were hot with exertion,) and regardless of moving shadows, or cooing doves, my two friends gave up the sense of hearing to their reels, and that of seeing to the career of the little zinc hooks at the end of their gut lines. When I looked at the insular P——, and his active rod, I thought him like to Archimedes who had found his extramundane spot of ground, and, as he threw the fly, and bent his back to let it touch the water lightly, was endeavouring to fasten his lever to the base of the adjacent mountain in order to consummate his wish of raising the world; and the circumfluous R—— with his long tackle, that hissed when he cast it with the petulance of an angry switch, appeared an ocean god, who had selected a shorter route to the North Cape by the Toptdal River, and was urging his reluctant grampuses up the cataract.

The tall mountain peaks now began to glow in the rising sun, and, like the receding surface of an ocean, the beam of light slowly moved down towards the valley. One by one, [Pg 277]the cattle emerged from their sheds; the rooster flapped his wings, stood on tiptoe, and crowed loudly. Under the weather vane on the farmhouse roof, the pigeons preened their feathers and cooed. Unaware of the cool morning air (since they were hot from their efforts) and ignoring the moving shadows or the cooing doves, my two friends lost themselves in their reels and focused on the little zinc hooks at the ends of their fishing lines. When I looked at the solitary P—— with his lively rod, I thought he resembled Archimedes discovering his own special place in the universe, as he threw the fly and bent his back to let it lightly touch the water, trying to secure his lever to the base of the nearby mountain to fulfill his wish of lifting the world. Meanwhile, the surrounding R—— with his long line, that hissed when he cast it like an annoyed switch, seemed to be a sea god, who had chosen a quicker path to the North Cape via the Toptdal River, urging his unwilling grampuses up the waterfall.

R—— and P—— might have angled for five hours, and the result of their assiduity was as diverse as pain is to pleasure, whatever the Stoics may have said to the contrary; for P—— caught fifteen salmon, and R—— not one. Disappointed, no doubt, that such trifling profit should succeed to so much labour, [Pg 278]R—— wound up his ten or twelve yards of cat-gut, and desired the boatmen to row ashore. It was now eight o'clock; and when people rise at two in the morning, it does not require much calculation to tell how keen the appetite must become when it has grumbled five hours in vain for aliment. P——, however, was callous to hunger, or thirst; and as he made capture after capture, all thought of food decreased in an inverse ratio. When R—— had alighted from the pram, the boatman drew it up on the shore, lest it should get adrift, for it was the only available pram at Boom; and touching his slouch hat, signified to R—— his intention of going to his morning meal. R—— consented. We sat down on a piece of timber by the river's brink, and R—— watched his successful fellow-angler. P——'s very soul seemed to be diving about in the pool entirely unconscious of every earthly thing but salmon.

R—— and P—— might have fished for five hours, and the outcome of their efforts was as different as pain is from pleasure, despite what the Stoics might have argued; P—— caught fifteen salmon, while R—— caught none. Disappointed, no doubt, that such little reward came after so much effort, [Pg 278] R—— coiled up his ten or twelve yards of fishing line and asked the boatmen to row ashore. It was now eight o'clock, and when people wake up at two in the morning, it doesn't take much thought to realize how hungry they must be after five hours of empty stomach. P——, however, was indifferent to hunger or thirst; as he kept catching fish, all thoughts of food faded away. After R—— stepped out of the boat, the boatman pulled it up on the shore to keep it from drifting away since it was the only available boat at Boom, and tipping his hat, he indicated his plan to go have breakfast. R—— agreed. We sat down on a piece of timber by the riverbank, and R—— watched his successful fishing partner. P—— seemed completely immersed in the water, entirely focused on salmon, unaware of anything else around him.

"By Jove! there's another bite," exclaimed R——, as P——'s reel spread the tidings with the tongue of a Dutch alarum clock. After a little play, the salmon ceased to live in the Toptdal River.

"Wow! There's another catch," exclaimed R——, as P——'s reel conveyed the news like the bell of a Dutch alarm clock. After a brief struggle, the salmon was no longer swimming in the Toptdal River.

"I can't tell how he manages," said R——, in a sort of soliloquy. "I don't get a rise in two days. My flies must be bad; or, I think, P—— always takes the best place." And R—— pulled his fly-book from his pouch, and began to examine the flies attentively, one by one, from the largest to the smallest.

"I don't know how he does it," said R——, almost to himself. "I haven't caught anything in two days. My flies must be off, or maybe P—— always goes for the best spot." And R—— took his fly-book out of his pouch and started looking through the flies carefully, from the largest to the smallest.

[Pg 279]"Your flies are very good," I observed; "but you have not application. Look at P——; he is part of that rock, apathetic to every idea of life, but the idea that he sees his fly."

[Pg 279]"Your flies are really good," I said, "but you lack focus. Look at P——; he blends into that rock, indifferent to any thought about life, except for the fact that he sees his fly."

"A great deal of it is luck," answered R——; "but let us go to breakfast. I am preciously thirsty; I must swill something."

"A lot of it is luck," replied R——; "but let's head to breakfast. I'm really thirsty; I need to drink something."

We both rose, and walked towards the cottage. The sun had now risen above the tops of the mountains, and shone brightly in the very centre of the valley through which the Toptdal River wound. Not a cloud spotted the sky, and the declining languid motion of the atmosphere gave token of a torrid noon. Entering into jocular conversation with our Anglo-Norwegian friend, who was bustling about the cottage on our behalf, we became so intimate and open-hearted, that R—— begged him to partake of breakfast if he had not eaten his own; and seating himself in the third vacant chair, the Norwegian did as much justice to our hospitality, as the hungry steer does to clover. Time wore on, for the shade of the tall trees became short and shorter; and when our little stout Northern guest went from under the cottage roof, to give some orders to a labourer, I observed that the huge flaps of his felt hat sheltered his round projecting van and bulbous flank, and, that, to the contemplative man with downcast eye, his whole frame, fat though it were, would appear quashed into a circular shadow moving along the ground.

We both got up and walked toward the cottage. The sun had risen over the mountain tops and was shining brightly in the center of the valley through which the Toptdal River flowed. The sky was completely clear, and the lazy motion of the air hinted at a hot noon. As we chatted playfully with our Anglo-Norwegian friend, who was bustling around the cottage on our behalf, we became so friendly and open that R—— invited him to join us for breakfast if he hadn’t already eaten. He took the third empty chair, and the Norwegian enjoyed our hospitality as much as a hungry steer enjoys clover. Time passed, as the shade of the tall trees grew shorter and shorter; and when our little stout Northern guest stepped out from under the cottage roof to give some orders to a worker, I noticed that the large brims of his felt hat shaded his round face and bulging sides, and to a thoughtful person with their eyes downcast, his entire figure, though heavy, appeared to be a circular shadow moving along the ground.

[Pg 280]After breakfast, R—— lit his pipe, and the Norwegian made a quid both round and opaque, and bowing to us, stuffed it into his mouth. Its proper arrangement with his tongue kept him silent for a second, and in that second, we heard the prolonged, faint call of a man in distress; but it was so indistinct, that the gentle rustling of the juniper leaf interrupted our attention to it.

[Pg 280]After breakfast, R—— lit his pipe, and the Norwegian made a quid that was both round and opaque, then bowed to us and stuffed it into his mouth. The way he arranged it on his tongue kept him silent for a moment, and in that moment, we heard a faint, prolonged call of a man in distress; but it was so unclear that the gentle rustling of the juniper leaves distracted us from it.

"Is not this delicious?" observed R—— to me; and the gray-blue tobacco-smoke spouted, like a small fountain, from his mouth. "In London I should be just thinking of getting out of bed, and here I have been up these nine hours, and eaten like a bricklayer."

"Isn't this delicious?" R—— said to me, as gray-blue tobacco smoke poured from his mouth like a small fountain. "In London, I’d just be thinking about getting out of bed, and here I've been up for the past nine hours and eating like a bricklayer."

"I should not mind living here, and like this, all my life," I answered, "and paddling about on that river."

"I wouldn't mind living here, like this, for my whole life," I replied, "and floating around on that river."

"Ja," interposed the Norwegian in a broken dialect, but he thought himself a good English scholar; "dat is goot, but you not tak care you roltz down de foss; one old vomans roltz down de foss."

"Yeah," interrupted the Norwegian in a thick accent, though he considered himself a pretty good English speaker; "that's good, but you need to be careful not to roll down the waterfall; one old woman rolled down the waterfall."

"Ah?" said I.

"Wait, what?" I said.

"Ja," replied the Norwegian; "she row one praam cross de top of de foss, and de praam roltz over, and she vas drowntz."

"Yeah," replied the Norwegian; "she rowed a boat across the top of the falls, and the boat flipped over, and she drowned."

The same dull, faint, long cry, fell on our ears; but we took no heed of it, for our native companion said it was the signal shout of huntsmen in the mountains.

The same dull, faint, long cry reached our ears, but we ignored it because our local guide said it was the call of hunters in the mountains.

"Did you ever find the old woman's body?" I asked.

"Did you ever find the old woman's body?" I asked.

[Pg 281]"Ja," the Norwegian answered, twisting his quid from the left to the right cheek, "she vas foundtz; and vat is droltz de bags of flour she have in de praam, dough dey been long timetz in de vater, vere quite drytz—de middle quite drytz."

[Pg 281] "Yeah," the Norwegian replied, shifting his chew from one cheek to the other, "she was found; and what’s strange about the bags of flour she had in the boat, even though they’ve been in the water for a long time, was that they were pretty dry—the inside was completely dry."

"And what did you do with them?" I asked.

"And what did you do with them?" I asked.

"I eatz dem," said my friend.

"I eat them," said my friend.

Again the long, low cry stole mournfully through the still air, and it moaned like a melancholy spirit of the night that had been left behind by its fellow spirits, as they hurried from earth at dawn of day, and which, concealing itself in some mountain cavern, was wailing their absence, and telling the torture it suffered from the glaring light.

Again, the long, low cry drifted sadly through the still air, moaning like a sorrowful spirit of the night that had been left behind by its fellow spirits as they rushed away from Earth at dawn. Concealing itself in some mountain cave, it lamented their absence and expressed the pain it felt from the harsh light.

"I say, old cock, have you any goblins in this place?" asked R——, walking close up to the Norwegian, and blowing the smoke from his pipe so voluminously in the little man's face, that he coughed till he nearly spat his quid out of the window.

"I say, buddy, do you have any goblins around here?" asked R——, stepping closer to the Norwegian and blowing the smoke from his pipe so thickly in the little man's face that he coughed hard enough to almost spit his chew out of the window.

"Nej, nej," replied the Norwegian, as soon as he could breathe to speak, in a tone of surprise that R—— should suppose such a thing. The Norwegians are superstitious, and believe as confidently in ghosts, as I do in the heat of fire.

"No, no," replied the Norwegian, once he was able to catch his breath and speak, sounding surprised that R—— would think such a thing. Norwegians are superstitious and believe just as strongly in ghosts as I believe in the heat of fire.

"What the devil then," continued R——, "is that confounded groaning about? Some fellow has committed murder. You had better go and see."

"What the heck is all that groaning about?" continued R——. "Someone's probably committed murder. You should go check it out."

[Pg 282]"Nej, nej," remonstrated the Norwegian, scratching his head, and moving nervously in his chair at the suggestion. The Norwegian was stable as his mountains; and R——, laughing at the man's apparent terror, resumed his seat, and increased the generation of his genuine Latakia tobacco-smoke.

[Pg 282]"No, no," protested the Norwegian, scratching his head and shifting nervously in his chair at the suggestion. The Norwegian was as steady as his mountains; and R——, chuckling at the man's obvious fear, took his seat again and puffed more of his real Latakia tobacco smoke.

It was now mid-day; and the hollow sounding tread of human feet clad thickly, made R—— and me turn our eyes towards the threshold of the cottage. Cased, like a shrimp-catcher, up to his hips in water-proof boots, his landing-net, gaff, and fishing-rod, borne on his left shoulder, P——, the very picture of impersonated anger, stood before us. Dashing landing-net, gaff, fly-book, and his only fly-rod on the table, regardless of crockery,

It was now noon, and the dull sound of heavy footsteps made R—— and me look toward the doorway of the cottage. Dressed like a shrimp fisherman, with waterproof boots up to his hips, and carrying a landing net, gaff, and fishing rod over his left shoulder, P—— stood before us, the image of pure anger. He tossed the landing net, gaff, fly book, and his only fly rod onto the table, not caring about the dishes.

"A pretty trick you have played me!" he thundered out. We had never given P—— a thought until the moment we saw him, nor did we, for one instant, remember that, like Robinson Crusoe, he had been left on a desert rock, and that the doleful cry might be his.

"A nice trick you've pulled on me!" he shouted. We hadn't thought about P—— at all until the moment we saw him, nor did we, for even a second, remember that, like Robinson Crusoe, he had been left on a deserted rock, and that the sad cry might belong to him.

"It's now twelve," P—— continued angrily, "and you have quietly eaten your breakfast, and allowed me to remain on that rock since six o'clock."

"It's now twelve," P—— continued angrily, "and you've quietly eaten your breakfast and let me stay on that rock since six o'clock."

"But my dear fellow," said R——, "could you not call for the boat?"

"But my dear friend," said R——, "could you please call for the boat?"

"And what have I been doing these four hours?" P—— exclaimed. "No; it's just like you both; if you can satisfy your [Pg 283]confounded selfishness, the devil may take any one else's comfort."

"And what have I been doing these four hours?" P—— exclaimed. "No; it's just like both of you; if you can satisfy your [Pg 283]damn selfishness, the devil can take anyone else's comfort."

"A boat would have put off to you," persisted R——, "if you had hailed some of the workmen about."

"A boat would have come over to you," R—— insisted, "if you had called out to some of the workers nearby."

"What nonsense that is," said P——, with wrath. "Do you think I stood there like a fool, and held my tongue? Of course I hailed every one I saw; but I should like to know who could hear me, stuck, as I was, close under that Fall."

"What nonsense that is," said P——, angrily. "Do you think I just stood there like an idiot, keeping quiet? Of course, I shouted to everyone I saw; but I’d like to know who could hear me, trapped under that waterfall."

"Well, my dear fellow," answered R——, in a pacifying tone, "I tell you the truth, I never thought of you until I saw your face at that door."

"Well, my dear friend," replied R——, in a calming tone, "I’m being honest with you, I never thought about you until I saw your face at that door."

"That's just what I say; so long as you are comfortable, every one else may go to the deuce;" and P—— snapped his finger, and walked to the window. "Besides that," he added, "I am your guest, and entitled to look for a little more respect."

"That's what I'm saying; as long as you're comfortable, everyone else can go to hell," P—— said, snapping his fingers and walking to the window. "Plus," he added, "I'm your guest, so I deserve a bit more respect."

"Oh! hang the respect," replied R——, quickly.

"Oh! forget the respect," replied R——, quickly.

"Then you may fish alone," said P——; "for I'll be hanged if I will stand being treated in this kind of way. Suppose, for one moment, you had been in my place, and I had forgotten you, what would you have said and felt? the case is the same."

"Then you can fish alone," said P——; "because I refuse to be treated like this. Just imagine for a second that you were in my position and I had forgotten about you—how would you have reacted? It's the same situation."

"Why didn't you come ashore with me?" R—— asked, getting rather testy himself; "am I your nurse? Am I to wait and watch for you?"

"Why didn't you come ashore with me?" R—— asked, getting a bit annoyed himself; "Am I your babysitter? Am I supposed to wait and keep an eye on you?"

[Pg 284]"Yes, you ought," said P——; "I would have done it for you. I can't fish and have my eyes about me, in all quarters, at the same time. I think it cursed unmannerly of you both."

[Pg 284]"Yes, you should," said P——; "I would have done it for you. I can't fish and keep an eye out in all directions at the same time. I think it's really rude of both of you."

R—— looked at me with one of his comic faces, and I looked at him.

R—— looked at me with one of his funny faces, and I looked back at him.

"As to my manners," R—— answered aloud, "whether they be vulgar, or whether they be genteel, I take no credit to myself; for an extra allowance was made for my education, that I should be polished brightly like a gentleman, and if you perceive a failure on that score, the fault is not mine, but the preparatory school's. Moreover, if a man has any mental, or personal defect, it is hardly fair to make allusion to it, and by wounding his feelings to seek the gratification of anger."

"As for my manners," R—— replied, "whether they're rough or refined, I can't take any credit for them; I was given extra support in my education to be polished like a gentleman, and if you notice any shortcomings in that regard, it's not my fault, but the school's. Also, if a person has any mental or personal issues, it's not right to bring them up and hurt their feelings just to feed your own anger."

R—— gave me a wink, as much as to say, "I have the weather-gage of him." P—— spoke not in reply; but continued standing at the window, and, with his back to us, looking out upon the fatal rock and cataract.

R—— winked at me, meaning "I've got the upper hand." P—— didn't respond but kept standing at the window, his back to us, gazing out at the deadly rock and waterfall.

"We have left you a couple of eggs," observed R—— pacifically.

"We left you a couple of eggs," R—— said calmly.

"You had better send them back to the hen to be hatched," P—— replied.

"You should send them back to the hen to be hatched," P—— replied.

"Come, my dear fellow," continued R——, "don't let such a little thing part us. Your being left on the rock was quite an oversight. Exercise a christian spirit, and drink this delicious coffee."

"Come on, my friend," R—— continued, "don’t let something so small separate us. Leaving you on the rock was a total mistake. Show some grace and enjoy this delicious coffee."

[Pg 285]Pouring out a cup of coffee, R—— held up the Norwegian wine-bottle of milk by its long neck, and said to P——, "do you like a little, or a good deal, of milk?"

[Pg 285]Pouring a cup of coffee, R—— lifted the Norwegian wine bottle filled with milk by its long neck and asked P——, "Do you want a little bit or a lot of milk?"

"Oh! middling;" and moving from the window, P—— walked towards the table.

"Oh! not bad," and moving away from the window, P—— walked toward the table.

"There," said R——, pushing the cup across to P——, "there's some real Mocha for you."

"There," said R——, sliding the cup over to P——, "there's some real Mocha for you."

P—— raised the cup to his lips.

P—— raised the cup to his mouth.

"Capital!" he exclaimed, taking breath after a long pull.

"Capital!" he shouted, catching his breath after a long draw.

"So it is!" reiterated R——, expelling a tremendous and satisfactory cloud of smoke that took the shape of a balloon, and ascending towards the cottage beams, puzzled me, by its great dilatation, to think, how such a gigantic volume of sooty exhalation, as Dr. Johnson would say, could be compressed into a small compass, like R——'s mouth.

"So it is!" R—— repeated, letting out a huge, satisfying cloud of smoke that formed a balloon shape, rising toward the beams of the cottage. It puzzled me to think how such a large volume of smoky air, as Dr. Johnson would put it, could be squeezed into such a small space, like R——'s mouth.

When pacification took place, and conciliatory explanations were made over and over again, R—— and P——, tumbling out their flies, commenced to repair those that had been damaged by the fish, and manufactured others, more suitable to the transparent water, and the timidity of the salmon. While they were thus engaged, I loitered about in the open air.

When the situation calmed down and people kept giving explanations to make peace, R—— and P——, struggling with their fishing gear, started to fix the ones that had been damaged by the fish and created new ones that were better suited for the clear water and the shy salmon. While they were busy with that, I hung around outside.

The day was hot to oppression; and it required no flight of the imagination to forget that the country was Norway, and fancy myself in the interior of Congo. Numerous [Pg 286]insects, that flew with a droning noise about me, and a multitude of adders basking in the sun, or hurrying through the grass as I approached, gave new force to the illusion.

The day was brutally hot, and it took no imagination to forget that I was in Norway and picture myself in the heart of Congo. The many [Pg 286] insects buzzing around me and the numerous adders soaking up the sun or quickly slithering through the grass as I got closer only added to the feeling.

In the afternoon R—— and P—— caught thirty or forty salmon between them. Such success made them determine to remain for some days longer at Boom; but being desirous of a change of scene, as well as recreation, I returned to the yacht, and sleeping on board that night, went the next morning to Christiansand.

In the afternoon, R—— and P—— caught around thirty or forty salmon together. This success made them decide to stay at Boom for a few more days; however, wanting a change of scenery and some relaxation, I went back to the yacht. After sleeping on board that night, I headed to Christiansand the next morning.

It was the 24th of June, known as St. John's Day; and on my arrival at Christiansand, I learned that the festival was commemorated with great ceremony by the Norwegians. Along the tops of the mountains, ever where the eye wandered, piles of faggots, and old boats were collected together, like funeral pyres. Men and women, children and dogs, congregated in multitudes around them, watching for the set of sun; and when the weary god sank down to rest, and with closing lids gave darkness to the earth, a hundred bonfires simultaneously blazing forth on the summits of the mountains, strove to reach his throne in the meridian, and imitate the day. The sight was certainly fine, but could not be compared with an ancient warlike and similar custom among the Scottish Highlanders.

It was June 24th, known as St. John's Day; when I arrived in Kristiansand, I found out that the Norwegians celebrated the festival with great fanfare. At the tops of the mountains, wherever I looked, piles of firewood and old boats were gathered together, like funeral pyres. Men, women, children, and dogs gathered in large numbers around them, waiting for the sunset; and when the tired sun dipped down to rest, closing its eyes and bringing darkness to the earth, a hundred bonfires erupted simultaneously on the mountain peaks, trying to reach its throne in the sky and mimic the day. The sight was certainly impressive, but it couldn't compare to an ancient martial and similar tradition among the Scottish Highlanders.

I called on some ladies and gentlemen whom I knew at Christiansand, and learned a usage [Pg 287]prevalent among the Norwegians, that should still more endear their simplicity of heart, and the truthfulness of their character, since it is void of all the artfulness and social fiction of England. Approaching the house of a family, from the different members of which we had received much kindness and hospitality, a servant met me at the door, and while she was endeavouring to explain how much her mistress was engaged, the eldest daughter of my fair hostess made her appearance, and extending her hand to me, said, shaking her head,

I visited some friends I knew in Christiansand and learned about a custom [Pg 287]common among Norwegians that really highlights their genuine kindness and honesty, free from the artifice and social pretenses often seen in England. As I approached the home of a family that had shown us a lot of kindness and hospitality, a servant greeted me at the door. While she was trying to explain how busy her mistress was, the eldest daughter of my lovely host came out, extended her hand to me, and shaking her head, said,

"Herr, kan icca ta imod;" which meant, that I could not be received. This is the usual phrase; and it tells you the simple fact, that the lady of the house is at home, but her domestic occupations press upon her so much at the moment, that she is unable to receive you.

"Herr, kan icca ta imod;" which meant, that I could not be received. This is the usual phrase; and it tells you the simple fact that the lady of the house is at home, but her household tasks are so demanding right now that she can’t meet you.






CHAPTER XV.

SAILING UP THE GRON FIORD—DANGEROUS SWELL—EXCURSION ASHORE—TROUT-FISHING—MOUNTAIN SCENERY—ANT-HILLS—HAZARDOUS DRIVE—THE SCOTTISH EMIGRANT—MISERABLE LODGING—CONDITION OF THE PEASANTRY—A VILLAGE PATRIARCH—COSTUME OF THE COUNTRY-PEOPLE—ARRIVAL AT FÆDDE.

SAILING UP THE GRON FIORD—DANGEROUS WAVES—EXCURSION ASHORE—TROUT FISHING—MOUNTAIN SCENERY—ANT HILLS—HAZARDOUS DRIVE—THE SCOTTISH EMIGRANT—MISERABLE LODGING—CONDITION OF THE PEASANTRY—A VILLAGE PATRIARCH—COSTUME OF THE LOCAL PEOPLE—ARRIVAL AT FÆDDE.


On Wednesday, the 30th, we left Boom, having, during the ten days R—— and P—— had remained there, caught two hundred and sixty-four salmon.

On Wednesday, the 30th, we left Boom, having, during the ten days R—— and P—— stayed there, caught two hundred sixty-four salmon.

[Pg 288]On the afternoon of Wednesday, we landed at Christiansand for an hour, to arrange a few accounts, and then sailed for the Gron Fiord.

[Pg 288]On Wednesday afternoon, we arrived in Christiansand for an hour to settle a few accounts, and then we set sail for the Gron Fiord.

The night was calm, and the sea smooth as a mirror. At noon the following day, we were once more in sight of the Naze, and, signalling for a pilot, elicited an instant answer from a solitary cottage standing on the barren promontory. The swell was terrific; and as soon as the pilot could contrive to scramble on board, we ran the vessel up the lesser channel of the Gron Fiord to escape the sea. The violence of the waves was more dangerous, as scarcely a breath of wind filled the sails; and we were apprehensive that a huge spar like the boom swinging to and fro, would carry away the mast by the board.

The night was calm, and the sea was smooth like a mirror. By noon the next day, we could see the Naze again, and after calling for a pilot, we quickly got a response from a lone cottage on the desolate headland. The waves were huge; and as soon as the pilot managed to board, we steered the ship into the smaller channel of the Gron Fiord to get out of the rough sea. The force of the waves was more perilous since hardly any wind filled the sails, and we were worried that a large spar like the boom swinging back and forth could take the mast down.

Leaving directions with D—— that the yacht should meet us in the Fædde Fiord, R—— suggested that we should take an excursion inland. The proposal was no sooner given than it was taken up gladly; and hiring a mountaineer for our guide, who had jostled himself on board to see all that he could, we started in the gig for a small village, the name of which I forget, about sixteen miles further up the Fiord. What with rowing, and sailing, under the favour of sudden puffs of wind which nearly capsized us a dozen times, we came in sight of the village at five o'clock in the afternoon. The sail thither was very beautiful; the lofty mountains on all sides [Pg 289]giving the Fiord the romantic calmness and changing shadows of a beautiful lake. The water, too, so clear and shallow, left our minds at ease when the frequent gusts of warm air breathed heavily on our sail, and made us regard their sallies down the different ravines rather as the cause of sport, than the effect of mischief.

Leaving instructions with D—— for the yacht to meet us in the Fædde Fiord, R—— suggested we take a trip inland. As soon as the idea was proposed, everyone eagerly agreed; we hired a local mountaineer as our guide, who had managed to hop on board to see what he could, and we set off in the small boat to a little village, the name of which I can’t remember, about sixteen miles further up the Fiord. With a mix of rowing and sailing, aided by sudden gusts of wind that almost tipped us over a dozen times, we finally spotted the village at five o'clock in the afternoon. The journey there was stunning; the towering mountains surrounding us gave the Fiord a serene, romantic feel and created shifting shadows like those over a beautiful lake. The water was so clear and shallow that it reassured us when warm gusts of air pushed against our sail, and we viewed their rush down the various ravines more as a source of fun than a sign of trouble.

Being without a forbud, or courier, we waited for horses, as a consequence, several hours at a post-house on the bank of the Fiord. Time, however, did not hang heavily on our hands, R—— and P—— finding some amusement in fishing for trout in a neighbouring stream, and I was not the less entertained by observing the rapidity with which one fish was caught after the other. The surface of the water swarmed with these little creatures, and the fly was no sooner thrown to them, than they fought for the bait.

Being without a courier, we waited for horses for several hours at a post house by the Fiord. However, time didn't drag for us. R—— and P—— found some fun fishing for trout in a nearby stream, while I was entertained by watching how quickly they caught one fish after another. The surface of the water was filled with these little creatures, and as soon as the fly was cast, they fought for the bait.

In half an hour we returned to the post-house; and three dozen trout were, in a short time, converted into a substantial dinner. The flesh, however, was so impregnated with the taste of turpentine, that I relinquished the greater portion of my share to others who were more hungry, and not so dainty. Living almost entirely on fish caught by ourselves, I had, on former occasions, incurred the loss of my dinner through this disagreeable flavour, but could not discover its cause until a glass of water, taken from the Larvig River, tasted so [Pg 290]strongly of the fir, that, I preferred the inconveniences of thirst to the means of its alleviation. So much timber is floated from the interior to the towns on the sea-coast, that the rivers retain the taste of the fir, and even take from it a particular light yellow tinge, not to be seen in those streams that are too small and shallow for rafts or boats. Some kinds of fish, deriving their sole sustenance from these rivers, are consequently saturated with turpentine.

In half an hour, we returned to the inn, and we quickly turned three dozen trout into a hearty dinner. However, the fish tasted so much like turpentine that I ended up giving away most of my portion to others who were hungrier and not as picky. Since we mostly ate fish that we caught ourselves, I had lost dinners before because of this unpleasant taste but couldn’t figure out why until I drank some water from the Larvig River, which tasted so strongly of fir that I decided to deal with being thirsty rather than drink it. So much timber is floated from the interior to the coastal towns that the rivers take on the fir taste, even developing a particular light yellow tint not seen in smaller streams that are too shallow for rafts or boats. Some types of fish, which get all their food from these rivers, end up saturated with turpentine.

After dinner we walked up a hill, down whose rugged side ran a rapid, murmuring brook. The Fiord, surrounded by mountains, lay beneath us, and, far away, we could see the boat that had brought us hither, floating, like a white feather, slowly homewards to the yacht. The blue-bell and fox-glove were growing on every hand, and the heath throve in luxuriance, but, flowerless, seemed to miss the golden blossoms of the furze.

After dinner, we walked up a hill with a steep side where a quick, babbling brook ran down. The fjord, surrounded by mountains, spread out below us, and in the distance, we could see the boat that had brought us here, drifting slowly home to the yacht like a white feather. Bluebells and foxgloves were everywhere, and the heather thrived in abundance, but without flowers, it seemed to long for the golden blooms of the gorse.

Sauntering along, we could scarcely avoid stumbling over numberless ant-hills, of considerable size and height, raised around the trunks of fallen firs rent in two by the violence of the winter storms, or hewn down to be converted into charcoal. Regardless alike of the sultry summer heat and of us, how industriously the little people worked, running hither and thither with pieces of stick, ten times larger than themselves, and sometimes so ponderous, that half-a-dozen of them would put [Pg 291]their strength together, and pull them from one corner of their dominions to the other! I observed a sturdy mechanic, hurrying, like a thief, along the summit of this mound, fall headlong to the very base; but immediately recovering his senses, seized his load again, and mounted valiantly to his former elevation.

Strolling along, we could barely avoid tripping over countless ant mounds, quite large and tall, built around the trunks of fallen fir trees torn in two by the harsh winter storms or chopped down for charcoal. Regardless of the sweltering summer heat and our presence, the little creatures worked tirelessly, scurrying back and forth with sticks that were ten times their size, and sometimes so heavy that half a dozen of them would team up and drag them from one corner of their territory to another! I noticed a sturdy worker, rushing like a thief along the top of this mound, fall all the way to the bottom; but as soon as he regained his composure, he grabbed his load again and bravely climbed back to his previous height.

I threw my glove in the midst of them. Their confusion and dismay were beyond all description; but collecting their self-possession, they returned in a mob, and seemed to view attentively the great calamity that had befallen them. They examined it in every position, some burrowing inside and arriving at the top of the glove through a small hole between the thumb and the forefinger; others, apparently chemists, clustering round the button at the wrist, and testing its properties. Gathering in groups, they appeared to consult whether such a peculiar substance could be converted into use, or whether the glove should be drawn by main force, and precipitated to the sow-thistle below. Unlike any large assemblage of men that I have ever seen, they wasted no time in long speeches, but speedily came to a decision; and approaching the thumb of my glove, some thirty or forty stalwart artificers took hold of the seam that passes inside, and pulled stoutly. The glove moved. This was not lost on the congregated thousands; for their motions appeared to be in approval of their countrymen; and I am [Pg 292]convinced did they wear hats, they would have flourished them in the air, or owned voices, would have cheered vociferously. The whole community now took part in the removal of my glove, and in a few seconds it began to crawl pretty evidently towards the edge of the mound.

I tossed my glove into the middle of them. Their confusion and shock were indescribable; but after gathering themselves, they returned in a crowd and started to closely examine the big disaster that had happened to them. They looked at it from every angle, with some digging inside and finding their way out through a small hole between the thumb and the forefinger; others, seeming like scientists, gathered around the button at the wrist, testing its properties. Forming groups, they seemed to discuss whether such an unusual object could be put to use, or if the glove should be forcibly pulled and thrown down to the sow-thistle below. Unlike any large gathering of people I've ever seen, they didn't waste time on long speeches but quickly made a decision; and moving toward the thumb of my glove, about thirty or forty strong workers grabbed the seam on the inside and pulled hard. The glove shifted. This didn't go unnoticed by the gathered thousands; their movements seemed to show approval for their fellow countrymen, and I am [Pg 292] sure that if they had hats, they would have waved them in the air or cheered loudly if they had voices. The whole community now joined in the effort to remove my glove, and within seconds it began to visibly inch towards the edge of the mound.

Busily engaged as all the ants were, they did not pay much attention to the proximity of danger, and, I am sure, even with their sagacity, did not think of it; but bearing the common nuisance towards the boundary of their country, they were only bent upon ejecting it summarily. The little finger of my glove first reached the side of the ant-hill, and falling, like a paralyzed limb, suddenly over the brink, cast some forty excellent folks, head over heels, with rapidity and great force to the long grass beneath. Unconscious of this accident at the other extremity, the ants who laboured at the thumb and its environs, continued with violent jerks to draw the glove towards its destination; and when it had come so near the sloping edge, that the locomotive power became its own, it slid, like an avalanche, to the bottom of the mound, drawing nearly the entire population along with it. Never were pismires so terrified before; nor did arrow ever swifter cleave the air, as these insects scrambled over the blades of grass and chips of wood. The agility with which they climbed up their pyramidical nest was perfectly astonishing; and [Pg 293]when the nimblest of them arrived at the top, the perfect state of confusion which seemed to pervade the whole community, and the continuance and fervour with which they were stopped and addressed by those who had escaped the mishap, were the monkeyism and perplexity of man truthful to a degree.

The ants were so busy that they didn’t really notice the danger close by, and honestly, even with their intelligence, they probably didn’t think about it. As they dealt with the common nuisance along the edge of their territory, they were focused solely on getting rid of it quickly. The little finger of my glove brushed against the side of the ant hill and, like a limp limb, suddenly toppled over the edge, sending about forty ants tumbling head over heels with some force into the long grass below. Unaware of this accident happening at the other end, the ants working on the thumb and the surrounding area kept pulling the glove towards its goal, jerking violently as they did so. When the glove got close enough to the sloping edge that it could move on its own, it slid down like an avalanche, dragging almost the entire colony with it. Never had ants been so terrified; no arrow ever flew through the air as quickly as these insects scrambled over the blades of grass and bits of wood. The speed with which they climbed back up their pyramid-shaped nest was truly amazing; and [Pg 293] when the fastest ones reached the top, the sheer chaos that engulfed the entire community, along with the urgency and intensity with which those who had managed to escape addressed them, echoed the confusion and frenzy of humans to an uncanny degree.

Late in the afternoon we started on our journey. The road at every corner unfolded the sublimest scenery, my imagination conceiving nothing beyond the grandeur and wild magnificence of the rugged mountains whose castellated peaks, gray and black with time and storm, were fretted into all combinations of pinnacle and turret raised like fortifications out of their perpendicular, blank sides. To allay the parching heat and sombreness of scene, the roar of falling water reached the ear, and here and there the eyes caught sight of wooden bridges clasping an angry torrent. Enclosed by mountains of great height, shooting abruptly into the air, the precipices both above and beneath the narrow highway were most frightful to contemplate, and in many places it was overhung with immense portions of rock. We were obliged to stoop in order to avoid striking our heads against them, and to keep the middle of the road, no other precaution being taken to hinder a restive horse from falling into the hideous gulf, than one or two stones piled on each other. The sharp turn of the road, too, would appear at a [Pg 294]distance to terminate at the edge of a precipice; but when the spot was reached, this was found to be mere deception, the angular corners of the road being most acute; and, should a horse plunge in turning, or back, no human interference could stay an instantaneous death.

Late in the afternoon, we began our journey. The road revealed breathtaking scenery at every turn, and my imagination couldn't fathom anything beyond the striking and wild beauty of the rugged mountains. Their castle-like peaks, gray and black from age and storms, jutted out in every possible combination of pointed towers and fortifications rising sharply from their sheer, blank sides. To ease the oppressive heat and somber atmosphere, the sound of rushing water filled the air, and here and there, wooden bridges spanned a raging torrent. Surrounded by towering mountains that shot straight up into the sky, the cliffs above and below the narrow road were daunting to look at, and in many places, massive rocks loomed overhead. We had to duck to avoid hitting our heads on them and stick to the center of the road since there was no proper barrier to prevent a restless horse from falling into the terrifying chasm, just a few stones stacked together. The sharp bends in the road appeared, from a distance, to lead straight to a cliff's edge; but when we reached those spots, it turned out to be an optical illusion—the angles were much sharper than they seemed. If a horse stumbled while turning or backing up, no amount of human intervention could prevent a sudden and fatal accident.

A difficult descent brought us to a valley, shut in on all sides by lofty mountains; and stopping our jaded horses by a rivulet, we had time to observe another ascent, as steep as any we had yet encountered in Norway. Looking along a ravine on the left hand, far as the eye could see, the blue mountains, capped with snow, upon whose eminences rested the brilliancy of the setting sun, were contrasted grandly with the gloom and shadow of the nearer valley. Leaping from rock to rock, even from the mountain's peak, cascades poured down their waters in every direction, sparkling like columns of molten silver through the dark green foliage of the fir and pine.

A challenging descent brought us to a valley surrounded on all sides by tall mountains. We rested our tired horses by a small stream and had a moment to take in another steep climb, the likes of which we hadn't seen yet in Norway. Looking down a ravine to our left as far as we could see, the blue mountains topped with snow, glowing in the light of the setting sun, stood in stark contrast to the darkness and shadows of the nearby valley. Cascades leaped from rock to rock, even flowing down from the mountain's peak, pouring their waters in every direction and sparkling like columns of molten silver against the dark green foliage of the fir and pine trees.

We commenced the ascent. Left to themselves, our horses exercised much sagacity in overcoming every difficulty; for, occasionally making a strong effort, they would gain ten or twenty yards upwards, and then, halting of their own accord, plant their fore legs entirely under them to recover their wind. But in spite of every indulgence, it was disheartening to see the perspiration dripping, like a fountain, from the flanks and stomachs of the animals, [Pg 295]while they panted for breath. Toiling up the acclivity, we arrived, at last, at the summit of the mountain; and although the elevation must have been several thousand feet above the level of the sea, a plain of great extent, inclining slightly downwards to the north-west, and without the vestige of a shrub, spread before us. Alighting from our carrioles, we stood on the highest point of the mountain, and looking down the opposite side almost perpendicularly beneath us, a beautiful lake suddenly broke upon the view, the verdant banks of which, fringed with cottages, meandered for many miles along a still, romantic valley. Down the sides of the mountains that encompassed this valley, and with whose rocky heads we had an equal altitude, hundreds of cascades were seen leaping among the riven crags, and hid for a time from sight by the firs, would burst again upon the eye, and roll in one large spout of foam down the ravines, till they mingled with the sleeping waters of the lake now thrown into deep shadow by the gigantic mountains, and ended day.

We started the climb. Left to their own devices, our horses showed great skill in tackling every challenge; sometimes they would make a strong effort to gain ten or twenty yards upward, then stop on their own to catch their breath, planting their forelegs firmly beneath them. Despite all the care we gave them, it was discouraging to see the sweat pouring off their sides and bellies, [Pg 295] as they gasped for air. After struggling up the slope, we finally reached the mountain's summit. Although we must have been several thousand feet above sea level, a vast plain sloped gently downwards to the northwest, completely devoid of any shrubs. Getting off our carriages, we stood at the peak of the mountain, and when we looked down the other side almost straight below us, a stunning lake came into view, with green banks dotted with cottages winding for miles along a quiet, charming valley. All around this valley, where we were at the same height as the rocky mountain tops, hundreds of waterfalls were visible leaping among the jagged rocks. Sometimes hidden from view by the fir trees, they would suddenly appear again, cascading down in a large spray of foam into the ravines until they merged with the still waters of the lake, which was now cast into deep shadows by the towering mountains, marking the end of the day.

Taking up our abode for the night with a Scotsman, whose cottage we found through the assistance of one of our skydsguts, we strove to make ourselves as comfortable as circumstances would admit. This gentleman, who had left his native land with the laudable motive of teaching husbandry to the Norwegians, and with the ulterior chance of making [Pg 296]his fortune, discovered that the Norwegian farmers were as steadfast to the aboriginal mode of cultivating their land, as he was ambitious of becoming rich, and so, like a sensible man, when he found that his agricultural scheme had failed, and retreat homewards, for want of means, was impracticable, he wedded a Norwegian woman, and renting a tract of land, turned farmer on his own account. All that his frugal wife had collected for household use among these solitary mountains, milk, eggs, and salmon, was freely offered to us; and having brought our own tea and sugar, together with a few bottles of beer, we easily made a wholesome meal. After we had supped, our host said that his house was small, and his sleeping accommodation still more limited; but if we could arrange between ourselves, as to the appropriation of one bed, and a small sofa, he would be proud indeed to shelter us for the night.

Taking shelter for the night with a Scotsman, whose cottage we found with the help of one of our guides, we tried to make ourselves as comfortable as possible given the circumstances. This man had left his homeland with the noble purpose of teaching farming to Norwegians, hoping to also strike it rich. He soon realized that the Norwegian farmers were as committed to their traditional farming methods as he was determined to get wealthy. So, when he discovered that his farming plans had failed and returning home was not an option, he married a Norwegian woman and rented a piece of land to start farming on his own. Everything his resourceful wife had gathered for their household in those remote mountains—milk, eggs, and salmon—was freely offered to us. Since we had brought our own tea and sugar along with a few bottles of beer, we easily prepared a healthy meal. After we ate, our host mentioned that his house was small and his sleeping arrangements even more limited. However, if we could figure out how to share one bed and a small sofa, he would be very glad to host us for the night.

We cast lots. R—— won the bed, and P—— the sofa. I might sleep where I could, how I could, and when I could. However, things are so wisely ordained in this world, even the most trivial, that I do not know whether a man should not be as much elated with failure, as with success. Who can tell the result of any undertaking?

We drew straws. R—— got the bed, and P—— got the sofa. I could sleep wherever I could, however I could, and whenever I could. However, everything in this world is arranged so cleverly, even the smallest things, that I'm not sure whether a person should feel as happy about failure as they do about success. Who can predict the outcome of any effort?

At that "witching hour of night when churchyards yawn," we also had a touch of the gaping fit, and thought of rest. The room in [Pg 297]which we had supped, was likewise our bed-room; and the bed and sofa, huddled cozily in one corner of the apartment, carried comfort and enticement on their spotless counterpanes. Joking, and suggesting all manner of plans for my repose, R—— took off his coat, and sat down on his bed. No sooner had he done so, than one might have thought his mattress was stuffed with dried leaves or panes of glass, such a rustling and crackling ensued.

At that "witching hour of night when churchyards yawn," we also felt a bit restless and thought about getting some sleep. The room in [Pg 297] where we had dinner was also our bedroom, and the bed and sofa, snugly arranged in one corner of the room, looked inviting and comfortable with their clean bedcovers. Laughing and coming up with all sorts of ideas for my relaxation, R—— took off his coat and sat down on his bed. As soon as he did, it sounded like his mattress was stuffed with dried leaves or shards of glass, there was such a rustling and crackling noise.

"By Jupiter!" exclaimed R——, starting from his seat, and clapping the palm of his right hand to that part of his body that had caused the hubbub; and then turning about, placed his other disengaged hand on the bed, and said with an astonished voice and face,

"By Jupiter!" exclaimed R——, jumping up from his seat and slapping the palm of his right hand on the part of his body that had caused the commotion; then he turned around, put his other free hand on the bed, and said with a look of astonishment,

"Damme, this is all straw, covered with a sheet!"

"Damn, this is all straw, covered with a sheet!"

And pressing the mattress in all quarters, he seemed determined to ascertain whether it were the fact, or, simply, the wandering of his imagination. A piece of yellow straw, plucked from a central hole in the sheet, was amply authenticating. P—— took the alarm; and plunging both fists into the middle of his sofa, met with a soft composition of juniper-leaves and common moss. A pleasant sort of foundation to sleep upon, on a broiling summer's night, with the thermometer at 85°! However, the fun had only just commenced, and laughing heartily I made a pillow of a couple of boat-cloaks, and wrapping myself, like a [Pg 298]mummy, in a white great-coat, stretched myself on the floor. The boards were sanded, and so, when I turned, I sounded like a piece of sand-paper scrubbing a grate. That was the extent of my inconvenience. I slept soundly; and I may have done so for an hour, or two, when some one in a low tone of voice called to me. It was R——.

And pressing down on the mattress all around, he seemed set on figuring out whether it was real or just his imagination at work. A piece of yellow straw, pulled from a hole in the sheet, confirmed it. P—— got worried and shoved both fists into the middle of his sofa, where he found a soft mix of juniper leaves and ordinary moss. Not exactly the most comfortable place to sleep on a hot summer night with the temperature at 85°! But the fun had only just begun, and laughing out loud, I made a pillow out of a couple of boat cloaks and wrapped myself up like a [Pg 298]mummy in a white overcoat, then stretched out on the floor. The boards were sanded, so when I turned, I sounded like sandpaper rubbing against a grate. That was the only discomfort I had. I slept soundly, and I might have been out for an hour or two when someone called to me in a low voice. It was R——.

"Well, what is it?" I said.

"Well, what is it?" I asked.

"Lord!" he replied, "this bed is full of bugs and fleas. What the devil shall I do?"

"Wow!" he replied, "this bed is infested with bugs and fleas. What the heck am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know," I answered, half asleep;—"scratch yourself."

"I don't know," I replied, still half asleep;—"just scratch yourself."

Seemingly in acquiescence with my advice, a violent scratching issued from P——'s corner of the room; and then a heavy sigh, peculiar to a sleeping person, succeeded. Twisting about and blowing his breath with a puff, as people do in hot weather, or when tormented, each time R—— moved, his straw-mattress yielded to his weight with the same noise as the skin of a roasting-pig yields to the incision of a carving-knife.

Seemingly agreeing with my advice, a violent scratching came from P——'s corner of the room; then a heavy sigh, typical of someone sleeping, followed. Twisting around and blowing out his breath with a puff, like people do in hot weather or when they’re bothered, each time R—— moved, his straw mattress creaked under his weight, sounding like a knife slicing into the skin of a roasting pig.

"I can't stand this any longer," at length he exclaimed, and shooting out of bed, walked up and down the room, scratching and fuming as if he had just escaped from an ant's nest. Infuriated by the irritation of the flea-bites, he could not do otherwise than stumble over everything that came in his way; and the long nails of his naked toes coming in contact [Pg 299]with my ear, soon set me on my head's antipodes.

"I can't take this anymore," he finally shouted, jumping out of bed and pacing the room, scratching and fuming like he had just escaped from an anthill. Frustrated by the itch of the flea bites, he kept tripping over everything in his way; and the long nails of his bare toes brushing against my ear quickly turned my world upside down. [Pg 299]

"Gracious heavens!" I exclaimed, smarting with pain; "why don't you remain in bed, instead of stalking up and down the room all night long?"

"Good grief!" I exclaimed, wincing in pain; "why don’t you just stay in bed instead of pacing around the room all night?"

"Go and remain there yourself," retorted R——, in no happy frame of mind. "I won't be eaten up by bugs and all kinds of beastliness, for any one."

"Go and stay there yourself," R—— shot back, clearly in a bad mood. "I won't get eaten alive by bugs and all kinds of grossness for anyone."

"Yes; but you can keep your nails to yourself," I replied; and having great faith in the power of friction, commenced rubbing my ear.

"Yeah; but you can keep your nails to yourself," I replied; and having a lot of faith in the power of friction, I started rubbing my ear.

The silentness of death succeeded, interrupted only by the long, loud breathing of P——, and the low, melancholy howl of wolves in the mountains.

The stillness of death took over, broken only by the deep, loud breaths of P—— and the soft, mournful howls of wolves in the mountains.

With regrets and earnest protestations never to leave the yacht again, R—— and I wore the night away. P—— remained impregnable to the attacks of bugs, fleas, and mosquitoes; and while he told us, in a sonorous language of his own, how profoundly he slept, he sometimes gave mechanical signs of feeling by scratching obstreperously his legs and arms, and slapping himself smartly on the face.

With regrets and serious promises never to leave the yacht again, R—— and I spent the night awake. P—— remained unaffected by the bites of bugs, fleas, and mosquitoes; and while he told us, in his own deep voice, how soundly he slept, he occasionally showed he was feeling something by scratching his legs and arms noisily and giving himself sharp slaps on the face.

Early the subsequent morning we took leave of our host, and regardless of the intense heat, made the best of our way towards Fædde. The peasantry along the road we travelled [Pg 300]appeared to descend in wretchedness the farther we advanced; and nothing could exceed the poverty exhibited in the outward appearance of their hovels. At every station where we stopped, misery, by exterior marks, stood dominant; and one post-house, the last before we arrived at Fædde, was divested of every comfort, and looked more dreary than all the others we had seen. The whole family were partaking of their scanty meal spread on a deal table, yet smooth as marble, and brilliant as a polished sword. Surrounded by a gang of children, some grown to maturity, men and women, and others only infants, the poor patriarch sat pale and sickly at the family board; and the melancholy shade that kept flitting over his countenance, though he smiled and rose to greet us, told of some blight that had fallen on his hopes; for he resumed his seat apart, and crossing his thin hands on his lap, gave no other notice of his presence than an occasional sigh, uttered deeply and involuntarily. Except the old man, they all eat fast and greedily of a kind of white mixture, or porridge, collected in a large wooden basin.

Early the next morning, we said goodbye to our host and, despite the intense heat, made our way toward Fædde. The local people we encountered along the road [Pg 300] seemed to get more destitute the further we went, and nothing could surpass the poverty reflected in the rundown state of their homes. At every stop, the signs of misery were clear; one post-house, the last before reaching Fædde, had no comforts and looked drearier than all the others we had seen. The entire family was sharing a meager meal on a table that, while made of plain wood, was as smooth as marble and shiny like a polished sword. Surrounded by a group of children, some adults and others just infants, the poor father sat pale and sick at the family table; the sad expression that occasionally crossed his face, even as he smiled and got up to greet us, hinted at some disappointment that had clouded his hopes. He returned to his seat away from us, crossed his frail hands in his lap, and provided no further acknowledgment of our presence except for an occasional deep, involuntary sigh. Everyone except the old man ate quickly and hungrily from a large wooden basin filled with some kind of white mixture or porridge.

Leaving this place, we pursued our journey through a country intersected by rugged mountains, whose summits, denuded of all verdure, rose high and imposingly to Heaven, but their bases were clothed with the cheerful birch, the fir and pine, and here and there, a little knoll [Pg 301]of grass shining, like an emerald, amid this wilderness of rock. Herds of cattle, interspersed with goats and sheep, hung over the edges of the precipices, browsing on the tufts of green food that sprouted from the jagged crags. The road wound through narrow mountain-passes, nearly choked up with huge fragments of rock, the parent mountains on either hand rising perpendicularly to an enormous height; and where a ravine yawned, as if to cheer the heart and eye saddened and wearied by the desolate monotony of stony fell and inhospitable hill, a forest of firs would creep, sloping, to their very summits. Far above our heads, only the fleecy clouds breaking into a variety of forms as they moved slowly along the mountain sides, and the raven's hoarse cry, or the shrill scream of the eagle, broke the prevailing solitude of scene and sound.

Leaving this place, we continued our journey through a country marked by rugged mountains, whose peaks, stripped of all greenery, towered impressively to the sky, while their bases were covered with cheerful birch, fir, and pine trees. Here and there, a small grassy knoll [Pg 301] sparkled like an emerald amid the rocky wilderness. Herds of cattle, along with goats and sheep, grazed on the edges of the cliffs, nibbling at the patches of greenery sprouting from the jagged rocks. The road twisted through narrow mountain passes, nearly blocked by massive boulders, with towering mountains on either side rising straight up to an enormous height. When a ravine opened up, offering a respite to the heart and eyes weary and saddened by the bleak monotony of stone and inhospitable hills, a forest of firs would slope down to their very tips. Above us, only the fluffy clouds, shifting into various shapes as they lazily drifted along the mountainsides, and the hoarse caw of a raven or the sharp cry of an eagle broke the deep silence of the scene and sounds.

Many of the peasants whom we encountered on the way, wore red caps and short jackets scarcely descending below their arm-pits, covered elaborately with small conical silver buttons; and while some of them concluded their attire with breeches extending to the knees and there clasped with buckles, others, more fantastic in taste, preferred the loose trowsers of the Ottoman. Hair, prodigiously long, flowing slovenly over the shoulders, was common to all. Hats were worn, but they may be exceptions. A blue petticoat, blue as their [Pg 302]beautiful sky, and a jacket bound by a scarlet sash around the waist, and a coloured silk kerchief wreathed about the head, its two ends projecting, like the wings of Mercury's cap, behind each ear, appeared to constitute the ordinary costume of the Norwegian peasant women.

Many of the peasants we came across wore red caps and short jackets that barely reached their armpits, which were intricately decorated with small conical silver buttons. Some of them finished their outfits with knee-length breeches secured with buckles, while others, with more unique tastes, chose to wear loose Ottoman-style trousers. Long hair that hung carelessly over their shoulders was a common sight. Hats were worn, but they seemed to be the exception. The typical outfit for Norwegian peasant women included a blue petticoat as vibrant as their [Pg 302]beautiful sky, a jacket cinched with a scarlet sash around the waist, and a colorful silk kerchief wrapped around their heads with its two ends sticking out like the wings of Mercury's cap behind each ear.

On the morning of the fifth day since we had left the Gron Fiord, driving up a steep and winding road we reached the top of a magnificent range of mountains, and glancing over an intervening forest covered with every variety of shade, that fir, pine, birch, and grassy glades could afford, the eye rested on the village of Fædde, with its forty houses and single wooden church, bosomed in a luxuriant, green valley, on the opposite shore of the Fiord. A thousand feet beneath, on the blue water, floated the yacht with flapping canvass, and bearing all the appearance of having outstripped us in the journey only by a very few minutes. The picturesque beauty of the Fiord was increased by being distinctly seen from a commanding site, and the bold outlines of its frowning headlands jutted one beyond the other nearly into the centre of the Fiord, till they were mingled in colour with the distant ocean, of which a glimpse could just be caught. The sea gulls frequenting this Fiord, flew around us and screeched amid the universal silence which was broken by the roar of waterfalls, concealed from sight by the dark forest, but the sparkling stream, bursting at times upon the view, would [Pg 303]flow a little way in the broad daylight, then steal as suddenly again from observation in its circuitous course.

On the morning of the fifth day since we left Gron Fiord, we drove up a steep, winding road until we reached the top of a stunning range of mountains. Looking over a forest filled with every shade of fir, pine, birch, and grassy glades, we spotted the village of Fædde, with its forty houses and single wooden church, nestled in a lush green valley across the Fiord. A thousand feet below, on the blue water, floated the yacht with its sails flapping, appearing to have only just beaten us by a few minutes. The picturesque beauty of the Fiord was enhanced by the view from our vantage point, where the sharp outlines of its looming headlands jutted out one after another, almost reaching the center of the Fiord, blending in color with the distant ocean, which could just be glimpsed. Sea gulls frequenting the Fiord circled around us, screeching in the peaceful silence broken only by the roar of waterfalls hidden from sight by the dark forest. The sparkling stream would occasionally burst into view, flowing briefly in the bright sunlight before disappearing again in its winding path.

An immense pram, larger than the launch of a frigate, and rowed by two natives, bore us sluggishly to the cutter.

An enormous stroller, bigger than a warship's launch, and rowed by two locals, slowly transported us to the small boat.







CHAPTER XVI.

RETURN TO THE YACHT—POOR JACKO—ASCENDING THE STREAM—DESCRIPTION OF THE FÆDDE FIORD—ADVENTURES OF AN ANGLER—SAIL TO THE BUKKE FIORD—THE FATHOMLESS LAKE—THE MANIAC, AND HER HISTORY—THE VILLAGE OF SAND—EXTRAORDINARY PECULIARITIES OF THE SAND SALMON—SEAL-HUNTING—SHOOTING GULLS—THE SEAL CAUGHT—NIGHT IN THE NORTH.

RETURN TO THE YACHT—POOR JACKO—GOING UPSTREAM—DESCRIPTION OF THE FÆDDE FIORD—ADVENTURES OF AN ANGLER—SAILING TO THE BUKKE FIORD—THE DEEP LAKE—THE MADWOMAN, AND HER STORY—THE VILLAGE OF SAND—UNUSUAL TRAITS OF THE SAND SALMON—SEAL HUNTING—SHOOTING GULLS—THE CAPTURED SEAL—NIGHT IN THE NORTH.


"I hope, my Lord," observed D——, as he stood at the gangway of the yacht, and handed the man-ropes to R——, "you have had a pleasanter voyage than we."

"I hope, my Lord," D—— said, as he stood at the side of the yacht and handed the ropes to R——, "you had a more enjoyable trip than we did."

"Why? Has any accident occurred?" asked R——, anxiously.

"Why? Did something happen?" asked R——, nervously.

"No, my Lord, no accident," continued D——; "but since your Lordship left us, a gale of wind has been blowing from the south-west; and knowing your Lordship would have no home until the cutter came round to this place, I thought it best to thrash our way to Fædde in the best manner we could."

"No, my Lord, there was no accident," continued D——; "but since you left us, a strong wind has been blowing from the southwest; and knowing you wouldn't have a home until the cutter arrived here, I thought it best to make our way to Fædde as best as we could."

"Oh! yes; you did right," replied R——; "but, I hope, you did not strain the craft."

"Oh! yes; you did the right thing," replied R——; "but, I hope you didn't push the boat too hard."

"No, my Lord, no," answered D——.

"No, my Lord, no," replied D—.

[Pg 304]"How did she behave?" inquired R——.

[Pg 304]"How did she act?" asked R——.

"Beautifully, my Lord, beautifully," rejoined D——, rubbing his hands, and casting his eyes up the spars towards the top-mast, which was still struck. "We had three reefs in the main-sail, and still she made nine knots against a heavy sea. You see, she is wet, my Lord. The sea made a clean breach, both fore and aft."

"Beautifully, my Lord, beautifully," replied D——, rubbing his hands and looking up at the spars toward the top-mast, which was still down. "We had three reefs in the main-sail, and still, she was going nine knots against a rough sea. You see, she’s wet, my Lord. The sea made a clean breach, both in the front and back."

"Ah! it won't hurt her," said R——, in a confident tone, while he approached the companion, and began to descend into the cabin. P—— and I had already preceded him. Every thing below seemed in the greatest medley. The four chairs, lying on the floor, stuck their sixteen legs right up in the air; and the books, with their covers horribly distorted, were scattered in every corner. The sofa pillows appeared to have been playing "bo-peep" with each other, for three had hid themselves under one sofa, and the fourth I found in the after-cabin, jammed between my portmanteau and the bulk-head. Nothing was in its place, and all things were suffering the completest discomfort.

"Ah! it won't hurt her," said R—— confidently as he walked over to his friend and started to head down into the cabin. P—— and I had already gone ahead of him. Everything below looked like complete chaos. The four chairs were lying on the floor, their sixteen legs sticking straight up in the air. The books, with their covers all messed up, were scattered in every corner. The sofa pillows seemed to have been playing hide and seek, with three of them tucked under one sofa, while I found the fourth in the back cabin, wedged between my suitcase and the wall. Nothing was in its right place, and everything was in total disarray.

"Hollo!" exclaimed R——, as soon as he entered; "what's the row?"

"Hullo!" exclaimed R——, as soon as he entered; "what's going on?"

"The bell is broken, my Lord," replied the steward. This was a favourite hand-bell of R——; and any injury to it so entirely occupied his sympathy, that, the steward generally parried a minute cross-examination by [Pg 305]referring, when he could, to the ill, or well, being of this bell.

"The bell is broken, my Lord," the steward replied. This was R——'s favorite hand-bell, and any damage to it completely captured his sympathy, so the steward usually dodged a detailed interrogation by [Pg 305] bringing up the condition of this bell, whether it was suffering or doing well.

"Is that all?" answered R——.

"Is that all?" answered R——.

"No, my Lord," said the steward, pursuing his narrative, seeing the bell had failed; "three decanters, four couples of soup-plates, and——"

"No, my Lord," said the steward, continuing his story, noticing that the bell had rung without response; "three decanters, four pairs of soup plates, and——"

"Hang the plates!" interrupted R——; "how is Jacko?"

"Hang the plates!" interrupted R—; "how's Jacko?"

"Not so hearty, my Lord," replied the steward.

"Not so hearty, my Lord," replied the steward.

"Why, what's the matter with him, eh?" asked R——, going to the sofa, and lying down. He was accustomed to do this when, on his return home, he desired to know what had occurred in his absence.

"What's wrong with him?" asked R——, strolling over to the sofa and lying down. He usually did this when he got home and wanted to find out what had happened while he was away.

"He went into the pantry, my Lord," the steward continued, "when my back was turned, and while he was looking about him in one of the cupboards, the vessel took a lurch to port, and unshipping the cruet-stand, emptied the pepper-pot in his eye, my Lord."

"He went into the pantry, my Lord," the steward continued, "when I wasn’t watching, and while he was looking around in one of the cupboards, the ship suddenly tilted to the left, causing the cruet stand to tip over and dump the pepper in his eye, my Lord."

"What was he doing there?" demanded R——.

"What was he doing there?" asked R——.

"Up to his tricks again, my Lord," replied the steward, drily.

"At it again, my Lord," the steward replied dryly.

"Is he much hurt?" R—— asked.

"Is he hurt badly?" R—— asked.

"No, my Lord; not much," said the steward.

"No, my Lord; not much," said the steward.

"Have you done anything for the eye?" continued R—— in his interrogation.

"Have you done anything for the eye?" R—— continued to ask in his questioning.

"Cook has put on a poultice, my Lord," answered the steward, "a piece of raw beef."

"Cook put on a poultice, my Lord," the steward replied, "a piece of raw beef."

[Pg 306]"Oh! that's it, is it?" replied R——, quietly, regaining his self-possession.

[Pg 306]"Oh! Is that all it is?" responded R——, calmly, getting back his composure.

"Yes, my Lord," rejoined the steward, with firmness, holding a positive belief in his own, and the cook's efficacious remedy.

"Yes, my Lord," replied the steward confidently, firmly believing in his own effective remedy as well as the cook's.

"Well," observed R——, with deliberate quaintness, "don't boil it in our soup afterwards."

"Well," R—— said with a deliberate old-fashioned tone, "don't boil it in our soup afterwards."

"No, my Lord," and the steward took his leave, understanding his master's disposition, and knowing that his dialogues with him generally resulted in a compliment to the traditionary cleanliness of persons in his office.

"No, my Lord," the steward said as he took his leave, aware of his master's mood and knowing that their conversations usually ended with a nod to the traditional cleanliness of those in his position.

In the afternoon we went farther up the Fiord, about five miles to the north-east of the village of Fædde. The Fædde Fiord is of great depth, and in a circular bay to which we had now sailed, no anchorage for a vessel of the yacht's tonnage could be found. Running her, therefore, into a bight, ropes from the bow and stern were made fast to a couple of firs, and by belaying them taut, the cutter was kept clear from the base of a mountain that rose, straight as the mast, out of the water to an altitude of several thousand feet. This was the most beautiful and romantic spot of which the imagination of a poet might dream. The bay was about half a league in circumference, and a perfect circle in form. To the east, south, and west, were mountains covered nearly to their peaks with thick forests of fir; and when the dispersion of the clouds revealed their gray [Pg 307]summits, many cascades, like thin pillars of light, darted down the rocks; and the eye, following their track, could trace their increasing bulk as they rolled along from crag to glen, bounding, gliding, foaming, till they fell, roaring, with collected volume, into the waters of the bay. The sound of these cascades during the heat of the day was not only pleasant to the ear, but still more delightful was the feeling of freshness it conveyed to the mind.

In the afternoon, we traveled further up the fiord, about five miles northeast of the village of Fædde. The Fædde Fiord is very deep, and in the circular bay we sailed into, there was no anchorage suitable for a yacht of this size. So, we maneuvered the boat into a cove, tying ropes from the bow and stern to a couple of fir trees, securing them tightly to keep the cutter away from the base of a mountain that rose steeply out of the water to several thousand feet high. This was the most beautiful and romantic spot a poet could imagine. The bay was about half a league in circumference and perfectly circular. To the east, south, and west, mountains were covered almost to their peaks with thick fir forests, and when the clouds cleared, revealing their gray summits, numerous cascades, like slender pillars of light, cascaded down the rocks. As the eye followed their path, you could see their increasing volume as they flowed from crag to glen, bounding, gliding, and foaming, until they fell, roaring, with collected force into the waters of the bay. The sound of these cascades during the heat of the day was not only pleasant to hear, but even more delightful was the refreshing feeling it brought to the mind.

To the north a piece of level land, made into an island by the severed branches of a river, bore, by its position, all the beauty and aptitude for human habitation that nature could bestow; and the clean, white cottages with their red roofs and spires of ascending smoke, its gardens with their symmetrical flower-beds, and its cultivated fields, teemed with every sign of ease and plenty, and revealed the ingenuity of man. Beyond the northern limit of this island, far away in the interior, the blue outlines of the mountains were drawn with a darker tint upon the kindred colour of the sky, and their snowy scalps thrust to Heaven, seemed to claim priority of creation and rule with patriarchal dominion over the lesser hills. The main river ran along the eastern quarter of the island, leaping and flowing over and under the rocky ledges of a mountain, and its stream, sometimes expansive, then contracted, hurried down a bed of scanty depth.

To the north, a flat piece of land, turned into an island by the cut-off branches of a river, had all the beauty and suitability for human living that nature could offer. The neat, white cottages with their red roofs and spirals of rising smoke, along with gardens featuring symmetrical flower beds and cultivated fields, overflowed with signs of comfort and abundance, showcasing human creativity. Beyond the northern edge of this island, far into the interior, the blue outlines of the mountains were marked with a darker shade against the similar color of the sky. Their snowy peaks reaching toward the heavens seemed to assert their priority of creation and exert a patriarchal authority over the smaller hills. The main river flowed through the eastern part of the island, rushing and tumbling over and under rocky ledges of a mountain, with its stream, sometimes wide and at other times narrow, rushing down a shallow bed.

[Pg 308]As the sole pursuit of my two companions was the circumvention and death of numberless salmon, the same evening on which we arrived a start was made for the salmon pools on the other side of the island. In the course of an hour the pools were reached, and having gone through the usual forms, such as solicitation for permission to fish, and the hire of two prams, R—— and P—— began their accustomed labour. Taking, as customary, my position on some elevated spot, whence a good range of all my two friends' operations might be had, I strove to pass away the time by staking bets with myself whether one fish could be caught in thirty casts, or whether, on an average, twice as many minutes would elapse without such a result. My left hand generally took the odds, and I calculated that it won four times out of five.

[Pg 308]Since my two friends were solely focused on catching and killing countless salmon, that same evening we arrived, we set off for the salmon pools on the other side of the island. Within an hour, we reached the pools, and after going through the usual steps, like asking for permission to fish and renting two boats, R—— and P—— began their usual work. I took my spot on a raised area where I could see all of my friends' activities and tried to pass the time by betting with myself on whether they would catch one fish in thirty casts or if it would take, on average, twice as many minutes to catch one. My left hand usually took the bets, and I figured it won about four times out of five.

The sun had set for many hours, but it was light as noon. Wearied with fruitless watching, I lay down on the grass. Stretched at full length on my back, and having read in astronomical works that, looking upwards from a dark hole dug in the earth, the stars might be seen shining at mid-day, I covered my face with my cap, and peered upwards at the sky through a small hole in the crown. But my philosophy was suddenly interrupted by the solution of another remarkable fact, and of more personal moment than the scintillation of the stars, by finding I had put my head in an [Pg 309]ant's nest. I started to my feet, affirming that I had never been so unwary before. But I am a believer in predestination, and know that this accident could no more fail of occurrence, than that from my cradle, in harmony of order, it should fail being traced, link by link, to the instant at which it came upon me. See, now, its consequences. No sooner had a score of angry ants been brushed from my hair, in which their irritability had entangled them, than I was gratified with the sight of a herculean salmon that rose completely out of the water, and sprung, like a ravenous cat, at P——'s fly, which he had just withdrawn from the water, intending to change it for another of a brighter colour. The fish leapt about a foot and a half above the surface of the stream, and was the largest salmon I ever saw, weighing, I should think, between fifty and sixty pounds. If sharks inhabit the Fædde river, I would not pledge my word it was not one. I yield, however, my opinion to that of my gallant friend, who is a better sportsman than myself and asserts, without any mental reservation, that

The sun had been down for hours, but it was still as bright as noon. Exhausted from watching without any success, I lay down on the grass. Lying flat on my back and having read in astronomy books that you can see the stars shining during the day when looking up from a dark hole in the ground, I covered my face with my cap and looked up at the sky through a small hole in the top. But my thoughts were suddenly interrupted by realizing another surprising fact, which mattered to me more than the twinkling stars: I had put my head in an [Pg 309]ant's nest. I jumped to my feet, declaring that I had never been so careless before. Still, I believe in fate and know that this incident was bound to happen, just like everything in my life that can be traced back, moment by moment, to when it occurred. Now, see what happened next. As soon as I brushed away a swarm of angry ants that had gotten tangled in my hair, I was rewarded with the sight of a massive salmon leaping completely out of the water, lunging like a hungry cat at P——'s fly, which he had just pulled from the water, planning to swap it for one in a brighter color. The fish jumped about a foot and a half above the surface of the water and was the largest salmon I’ve ever seen, probably weighing between fifty and sixty pounds. If sharks were found in the Fædde river, I wouldn’t be surprised if this was one of them. However, I defer to my brave friend’s opinion, as he’s a better angler than I am and confidently asserts, without any doubt, that

"It was a salmon, sir,—a salmon."

"It was a salmon, sir—a salmon."

Be it as it may, the difference of classification has nothing to do with my story.

Be that as it may, the difference in classification has nothing to do with my story.

The Norwegians, I know, are a bold people, but may sometimes be taken unawares, as well as other men, and though they live and think in [Pg 310]the simple and primitive manner of the Mosaic era, they express the signs and feelings of apathy and surprise, with similarity of silence and spasmodic gestures to Indians and Englishmen. This world, too, is certainly a world of incongruities, and the more I see of it, the more I am biased in that way of reflection; and if any one will take the trouble to look at things as they are, abstractedly, and observe how good, bad and indifferent, black, white and blue, are jumbled together, he will not deny me his assent. It so happened, throughout our travels in Norway, and, indeed, whenever we went on these fishing excursions, that R——, who gave little expression to success in his pastime, nor felt annoyed at failure, invariably obtained the services of the most expert boatmen, while P——, who threw heart and soul into everything he undertook, and always swerved under discomfiture, secured with the same invariableness the aid of the most consummate clowns; and the rewardless termination of his toil, or tact, has been mainly attributable to the thick-headedness of those who should have assisted him with their sagacity. Scarcely, then, had this bulky salmon shown his mouth, literally an ugly one, above the water, than P——'s boatman, instead of keeping silence, and subduing his fears, as any reasonable being would do, raised an immediate shout of horror, and during the paroxysms of dismay, dipped his two sculls [Pg 311]negligently into the stream, and in his anxiety to make a few rapid strokes towards the shore, caught, what is nautically called, a couple of crabs, that caused him to lose his balance, and fall, legs uppermost, with a loud crash backwards to the bottom of the pram. His aspiring feet, taking P—— in the flank with the purchase of a crow-bar, raised him from the diminutive poop-deck of the pram on which he was standing; but some part of P——'s apparel giving way to the weight of his body, told its mute love of gravitation, and desire to prevent any further mischief. As it was, P—— narrowly escaped submersion; and his presence of mind alone saved the fly-rod from any more serious damage than a slight fracture of the top joint. The untimely vociferation of the Norwegian interrupted of necessity any plan P—— might have adopted to secure the salmon; for the assault made so unexpectedly on his person seemed, like an electric shock, to pursue its course throughout his whole frame, and rushing to the tips of his fingers sent the rod, at a tangent, bolt into the air.

The Norwegians, I know, are a bold people, but they can be caught off guard just like anyone else. Even though they live and think in a simple, primitive way reminiscent of the Mosaic era, they display signs of indifference and surprise with a similar silence and sudden gestures to both Indians and Englishmen. This world is definitely full of contradictions, and the more I see of it, the more I tend to think this way. If anyone takes the time to look at things objectively and notice how good, bad, and everything in between, whether black, white, or blue, are all mixed together, they can't deny that I'm right. Throughout our travels in Norway, and whenever we went on fishing trips, R——, who rarely showed any feelings about his success in fishing and didn't seem bothered by failure, always ended up with the best boatmen, while P——, who poured his heart and soul into everything he did and always got upset when things didn’t go right, consistently attracted the most incompetent helpers. The fruitless outcome of his efforts is largely due to the thick-headedness of those who should have used their smarts to help him. Just as that bulky salmon showed its decidedly ugly mouth above the water, P——'s boatman, instead of keeping quiet and handling his fears like a sensible person would, let out a loud scream of panic. In his frenzy, he carelessly dipped the two oars into the water and, desperate to make a few quick strokes toward the shore, ended up catching what we call "a couple of crabs" that threw him off balance, causing him to crash backward onto the bottom of the pram with his legs in the air. His flailing feet knocked into P——'s side, lifting him off the tiny poop deck he was standing on. However, part of P——'s clothing gave in to his weight, obediently falling to gravity and trying to save itself from further disaster. As it was, P—— barely avoided going under, and it was his quick thinking that saved the fly-rod from serious damage, sustaining only a slight break in the top section. The Norwegian’s untimely shout inevitably disrupted any plans P—— might have had to catch the salmon; the sudden jolt to his body acted like an electric shock, coursing through him and, rushing to his fingertips, sent the rod flying into the air.

About sixty yards from the inlet where the yacht was anchored, stood a cottage, tenanted by a woman and her daughters, two girls about fourteen and fifteen years of age, elegant as Indians, in form, and possessing the flowing fair hair, the large, round, loving, languid, blue eye, and the unaffected simplicity of bearing, and native loveliness of their clime. [Pg 312]Every morning they brought us milk, eggs, and strawberries, and seemed to find great delight in listening to our language, and, observing the routine of a vessel carried on with all the regularity of a ship of war; for, with their little bare feet that escaped from their blue gowns, and shone on the black rocks, like the white moss of the rein-deer, they would sit for hours on the crags above us, clinging to each other and explaining the reason why the bell struck at certain intervals of time, and why the firing of the evening gun made the flag to fall, as if by magic, from the mast-head to the deck.

About sixty yards from the spot where the yacht was anchored, there was a cottage occupied by a woman and her daughters, two girls around fourteen and fifteen years old, graceful like Indians, with long fair hair, big, round, loving, dreamy blue eyes, and a natural simplicity and beauty that reflected their surroundings. [Pg 312]Every morning, they brought us milk, eggs, and strawberries, and seemed to take great joy in listening to our language and watching the routine of a ship operating with military precision; for, with their little bare feet peeking out from under their blue dresses, glistening on the black rocks like white moss, they would sit for hours on the cliffs above us, holding onto each other and trying to figure out why the bell rang at certain times, and why the evening gun caused the flag to drop from the mast to the deck, as if by magic.

On Sunday morning, the 11th of July, we took leave of Fædde, and started, with a foul wind, for the Bukke Fiord. Being in want of bread, we were obliged to anchor off the village, in order to supply our stores; and having accomplished our object with less difficulty than we had anticipated, we set off fairly, at one o'clock, for our destination.

On Sunday morning, July 11th, we said goodbye to Fædde and headed out, battling a rough wind, toward Bukke Fiord. Since we needed bread, we had to stop and anchor off the village to restock our supplies. After completing that task more easily than we expected, we set out in earnest at one o'clock for our destination.

The wind had been increasing the whole morning, and veering two points from the south toward the south-west, now blew with the fury of a gale. The shifting gusts, as they careered down the valleys, taking the head sheets, first, on the weather, then, on the lee, bow, made us more tardy than usual in getting up the anchor. Being the Sabbath, greater crowds of people were abroad than on other days; and we could see, with our telescopes, [Pg 313]ladies and gentlemen standing or sitting, in large numbers, in the churchyard, watching our manœuvres with much interest. On the brows of the headlands, the peasants, both men and women, viewed with surprise our determination to put to sea on such an inauspicious day, and in such stormy time; but when the cutter swung, so that the anchor could be heaved, they could not refrain from loud expressions of praise to see her gallant trim, and the pride of buoyancy with which she swam the baffling waves.

The wind had been picking up all morning, shifting two points from the south to the southwest, and now it was blowing fiercely like a gale. The changing gusts raced down the valleys, hitting the headsheets first on the windward side, then on the leeward side, making us slower than usual to lift the anchor. Being Sunday, there were more people out and about than on other days; and with our telescopes, we could see, [Pg 313]ladies and gentlemen standing or sitting in large numbers in the churchyard, watching our maneuvers with great interest. On the edges of the headlands, the local people, both men and women, looked on in surprise at our decision to head out to sea on such an unpromising day and during such stormy weather; but when the cutter turned to let the anchor be raised, they couldn’t help but shout praises at the sight of her impressive trim and the proud buoyancy with which she rode the choppy waves.

At six o'clock in the evening, when we had stood out five or six miles from the land, a calm fell; and when the sun declined, his disc, expanded by the vapours of the mighty mountains at the mouth of the Bukke Fiord, threw a gleam of golden light from peak to peak that, glancing along the water, even came and danced upon our deck, and dazzled the helmsman with its oblique light.

At six o'clock in the evening, after we had drifted five or six miles away from the land, the sea became calm. As the sun started to set, its light, distorted by the mist rising from the huge mountains at the mouth of the Bukke Fiord, cast a shimmering golden glow from peak to peak. This light reflected off the water, danced on our deck, and dazzled the helmsman with its angled brightness.

On Monday morning when I went on deck, I found that we had entered the Bukke Fiord; and the same ravines, chasms, and cascades, identified the sublimity of the scenery with that which I have already attributed to the other Fiords. As we sailed along, the Fiord would expand into the broad surface of a lake, and anon diminish to the narrow breadth of a river hemmed in between two rocky banks. Smiling and still as a sleeping child, and calmer than the watching mother, the water, undisturbed by [Pg 314]a breath of wind, lay without a ripple; and no cloud on the pure sky above us intercepted the vertical rays of the sun, that descended with intolerable heat; and, while panting beneath the piercing beams, we turned towards the snow-clad mountains, and strove to bear the warmth by looking on their glistening summits; but the tantalization was still greater to see large patches of snow lying low down between the crevices and deep glens, places where the sun had never shone, and to feel no breath of cool air come to refresh us. Not a human habitation rose to the sight, and no living creature, not even the gull, or smallest bird, broke with its note the solemn stillness.

On Monday morning when I went on deck, I found that we had entered Bukke Fiord; the same ravines, chasms, and waterfalls connected the awe-inspiring scenery to what I had already described in the other Fiords. As we sailed along, the Fiord would widen into a large lake and then narrow down to a river squeezed between two rocky banks. The water was as calm as a sleeping child, quieter than a watchful mother, lying still without a ripple, untouched by any breeze. The clear sky above us had no clouds to block the direct rays of the scorching sun pouring down; as we struggled under the intense heat, we looked toward the snow-covered mountains, trying to cope with the warmth by gazing at their shining peaks. But it was even more frustrating to see large patches of snow resting low in the crevices and deep valleys, where the sun had never reached, and to feel no cool air to refresh us. There were no signs of human life, and not even a seagull or the smallest bird broke the heavy silence.

The pilot told us, that this Fiord had never been fathomed, and he supposed it had no bottom. This was intelligence sufficiently interesting to rouse all on board into activity; and a lead line of eighty fathoms was nimbly brought on deck.

The pilot told us that this fjord had never been measured, and he thought it probably had no bottom. This was information interesting enough to get everyone on board moving; an eighty-fathom lead line was quickly brought on deck.

"I have heard say, my Lord," observed the sailing master to R——, "that if a bottle be corked ever so tightly, and lowered to a certain depth in the water, the water will find its way into the body of the bottle. Is that true, my Lord?"

"I've heard, my Lord," the sailing master said to R——, "that if a bottle is corked tightly and taken down to a certain depth in the water, the water will find a way inside the bottle. Is that true, my Lord?"

"Of course it is," replied R——.

"Of course it is," replied R—.

D—— rather hesitated in his credulity, and to persuade him of the fact, a bottle was tied to the line, and sunk in the water. At seventy fathoms it was drawn up, and to D——'s [Pg 315]astonishment the water had nearly filled the bottle to its neck. He took the bottle in his hand, and peering at the cork, which had been driven to float on the water inside, said that some trick had been played.

D—— hesitated to believe it, so to convince him, a bottle was tied to the line and lowered into the water. When it was pulled up from seventy fathoms, D—— was [Pg 315]astonished to see that the water had nearly filled the bottle to the top. He grabbed the bottle and, looking closely at the cork that was floating in the water inside, claimed that some trick had been done.

"I don't think, my Lord," observed D——, "the cork was large enough, and of course the weight of water, at any trifling depth, will force it inwardly."

"I don't think, my Lord," observed D——, "the cork was big enough, and, of course, the weight of the water, even at a shallow depth, will push it inward."

"You are incredulous as Didymus," said R——. "Here, bring a champagne bottle."

"You can't believe it like Didymus," said R——. "Here, grab a bottle of champagne."

A champagne bottle was brought, cork and all.

A bottle of champagne was brought in, cork and all.

"Will you be satisfied now, D——?" continued R——. "It is quite impossible that this cork can be too small; for you see, the upper part of it overhangs the lip of the bottle."

"Will you be happy now, D——?" R—— continued. "It's impossible for this cork to be too small because, as you can see, the top part of it sticks out over the rim of the bottle."

"I see, my Lord," answered D——; "that's all fair enough."

"I understand, my Lord," replied D——; "that all sounds reasonable."

And D—— took a piece of yarn, and lashed the cork at the sides and over the top, having previously with a small stick rammed his handkerchief into the body of the bottle, and wiped it perfectly dry.

And D—— took a piece of yarn and tied the cork to the sides and over the top, having first used a small stick to push his handkerchief into the bottle's body and wiped it completely dry.

"Let it go," said R—— to one of the men, who made the bottle fast to the line, and did as he was commanded. D—— challenged the mate with an equal shilling that the bottle would be water tight; and the mate, like a sage, accepted the bet. As balance to the overlapping cork, we gave the champagne bottle the whole length of the eighty fathoms; and then, [Pg 316]drawing it up, found the cork had not been moved an iota; but the bottle was full of water.

"Let it go," said R—— to one of the men, who secured the bottle to the line and followed the order. D—— challenged the mate with an equal bet that the bottle would be watertight, and the mate, acting wisely, accepted the wager. To counterbalance the overlapping cork, we lowered the champagne bottle the full eighty fathoms; and then, [Pg 316] pulling it up, we saw that the cork hadn’t budged an inch, but the bottle was filled with water.

D—— shook his head, and paid the shilling.

D—— shook his head and paid the shilling.

I do not think D—— will ever doubt any phenomena again, as he is ready to admit the hardest truths of Science, however whimsical they may appear, or sound to him. Indeed he believes most things, and only mistrusts shoals and lee shores, to which he never fails to give a wide berth.

I don't think D—— will ever question any phenomena again, as he's willing to accept the toughest truths of Science, no matter how strange they might seem or sound to him. In fact, he believes in most things, and he only has doubts about shallow waters and safe havens, which he always avoids.

"Now we are about it," said R——, "let us try and find the bottom."

"Now that we're on it," said R——, "let's see if we can figure it out."

When King told the pilot what we were going to undertake, the old man laughed, and said we might try; but the Fiord was as deep as the mountains were high. Another line of a hundred fathoms was joined to the one with which we had been making the experiments to shake the infidelity of the heterodox D——, and lowered. No weigh was on the cutter; and two leads, being fixed to the line, were thrown over the quarter, and leaving a perpendicular track of froth, descended, hissing through the water. The whole hundred and eighty fathoms ran out; and we seemed as far from the bottom of the Fiord as we were before we commenced. Some idea may be conceived of the amazing depth of these Fiords, when I say, that the yacht was not one hundred and twenty yards from the shore, and the entire breadth of the Fiord about two miles. [Pg 317]The pilot again came aft, and through his interpreter, King, informed us that the Fiord had never been plumbed, although the endeavour had been made very frequently by scientific men, and Danish naval officers.

When King told the pilot what we were planning to do, the old man laughed and said we could try, but the Fiord was as deep as the mountains were high. Another line of a hundred fathoms was added to the one we had been using to test the skepticism of the heterodox D——, and it was lowered. There was no weight on the cutter, and two leads, attached to the line, were thrown overboard, creating a trail of froth as they sank, hissing through the water. A whole hundred and eighty fathoms ran out, and we seemed as far from the bottom of the Fiord as we were before we started. You can get an idea of the incredible depth of these Fiords when I say that the yacht was less than a hundred and twenty yards from the shore, and the entire width of the Fiord was about two miles. [Pg 317] The pilot came back and, through his interpreter King, told us that the Fiord had never been measured, even though many scientific people and Danish naval officers had tried.

Not many miles from the village of Sand, the place to which we were bound, on one of the sloping woodland swards that cheer by their vivid verdure the loneliness of the Bukke Fiord, a small cottage, thatched with the branches of the fir, may attract the traveller's observation, and if he does not look around attentively he will not see it, for it is low, and sheltered by the spreading arms of an old pine. The waters of the Fiord flow not many feet from its humble threshold; and perhaps, fastened to a stake, a fisherman's pram swings to the changing currents of air. Now, however, as the cutter drifted, rather than sailed, nearer to this green point of land, we saw that the pram had been untied from the stake, and was rowed by an old woman round and round, in an unending circuit, in midway of the Fiord. Often she ceased to row, and unfolding a white handkerchief from her head bared her whiter hair to the burning sky, and waved the signal in the air. Shouting with the shrill voice of her sex and age, she beckoned us to hasten to her aid. Then, hobbling from one end of her pram to the other, and moving quickly from side to side she leaned over and looked steadfastly down in the water, as if something valuable had been [Pg 318]lost. When she saw we made no haste, she resumed her seat, and singing a native song that had more of liveliness than melancholy in its burden, again she rowed her pram round the same circle, never deserting the spot, but whistling and chanting by turns, she kept her face turned in one direction, that she might always watch the central surface of the water.

Not far from the village of Sand, where we were headed, there was a small cottage nestled on one of the sloping green patches that brightened up the solitude of the Bukke Fiord. The cottage, with its fir branch thatched roof, could catch a traveler’s eye, but if you didn’t look closely, you might miss it, as it was low to the ground and tucked away by the wide branches of an old pine tree. The waters of the Fiord flowed just a few feet from its humble entrance, where a fisherman’s small boat was likely tied to a stake, swaying with the changing breezes. However, as our cutter drifted—rather than sailed—toward this green piece of land, we noticed that the boat had been untied and an old woman was rowing it in a continuous loop in the middle of the Fiord. Often, she would stop rowing, unfurl a white handkerchief from her head, revealing her white hair to the blazing sun, and wave a signal in the air. With a voice that was both shrill and fragile from her age, she called out to us to hurry to her aid. Then, shuffling from one end of her boat to the other, she leaned over to peer intently into the water, as if she was searching for something valuable that had been [Pg 318]lost. When she saw we weren’t rushing to help, she returned to her seat and began to sing a lively native song, full of energy rather than sadness, while rowing her boat in the same circle. She never left that spot, whistling and singing alternately, always keeping her gaze focused on the surface of the water.

"What means that old woman?" asked R—— of several men who were observing her, and, clustering round the pilot, seemed to be gathering all the information he could give.

"What does that old woman mean?" asked R—— of several men who were watching her, and, huddled around the pilot, seemed to be collecting all the information he could provide.

"She is mad, my Lord," the sailors made reply.

"She's crazy, my Lord," the sailors responded.

"Mad!—why mad?" repeated R——.

"Mad!—why mad?" repeated R—.

"The pilot says, my Lord, that she is so, and looking for her husband," the cockswain answered.

"The pilot says, my Lord, that she is, and is looking for her husband," the cockswain replied.

"Where's her husband? Is he drowned, eh?" continued R——.

"Where's her husband? Did he drown?" continued R——.

"No, my Lord," the sailor said, twitching up his trowsers, and walking aft towards the quarter-deck; "her husband was a fisherman, and lived hard by, my Lord,—up there. About fifteen years ago the man was bathing hereabouts, and he was eaten up by mackerel; but the old woman thinks, my Lord, he has only dived, and soon will rise again."

"No, my Lord," the sailor said, pulling up his pants and walking towards the back of the ship. "Her husband was a fisherman who lived nearby, my Lord—up there. About fifteen years ago, the man was swimming around here, and he was eaten by mackerel. But the old woman believes, my Lord, that he just dived under and will surface again soon."

And so indeed the legend goes. One morning, fifteen summers past, the poor fisherman plunged into the element, that had been his sole sustaining friend from youth, to bathe, and [Pg 319]before scarce fifteen minutes had elapsed, surrounded by a shoal of mackerel, and in sight of home and her who made it home, was devoured by these ravenous fish. When he raised his arms from out the water to show the dreadful fate that threatened him, and to rouse the alarm of his unconscious wife, a hundred mackerel hung, like plummets, from the flesh. The fisherman sank, and was never seen or heard of more. From that morning until to-day his widow, having lost her reason, ever rows her husband's pram about the spot where he perished, in the full persuasion, which she certifies in her song, that he has gone to seek a sunken net, and in a little while will emerge again; and, so, she prays the crew of every vessel sailing by to stay and see the truth of what she speaks.

And so the story goes. One morning, fifteen summers ago, the poor fisherman jumped into the water, which had been his only friend since childhood, to take a bath. [Pg 319]Before even fifteen minutes passed, surrounded by a school of mackerel and close to home, where his beloved waited, he was devoured by these hungry fish. When he raised his arms from the water to show the terrible fate that awaited him and to alert his unaware wife, a hundred mackerel hung from his flesh like weights. The fisherman sank and was never seen or heard from again. From that morning until now, his widow, having lost her mind, continually rows her husband’s boat around the place where he died, firmly believing, as she expresses in her song, that he has gone to look for a sunken net and will soon return; and so, she asks the crew of every passing vessel to stop and witness the truth of her words.

We arrived at Sand the same afternoon, and after ransacking the little place from house to house, found the proprietor of the salmon river there. With the good nature and extreme courtesy of his countrymen, the Norwegian gave assent that we might angle, and not only favoured my two indefatigable friends with a prolonged dissertation on the peculiarities of the Sand salmon, but offered to undertake any duty that might lessen the difficulties and increase the chances of taking a few of these extraordinary fish.

We arrived at Sand that same afternoon, and after searching through the little place from house to house, we found the owner of the salmon river there. With the friendly nature and great politeness typical of his fellow countrymen, the Norwegian agreed that we could fish, and not only shared a lengthy explanation about the unique characteristics of the Sand salmon with my two tireless friends but also offered to take on any task that might make things easier and increase our chances of catching a few of these remarkable fish.

It seems that the time when a salmon has been caught with a fly in the Sand river is [Pg 320]completely beyond the memory of the oldest inhabitant of the village; nor is the task less difficult to snare this crafty species in a net. On our arrival on the banks, or more properly rocks, of the river, the salmon were thrusting their heads, like the bubbles of a boiling pot, above the water; and leaping from one ledge of rock to a higher, they were striving to make their way, in battalions, up a foss, that was of no great height, but poured down its waters in a compact flood with the din of a larger cataract. Persuaded as we had been of the improbability that success would attend our sport, our spirits became more buoyant as our attendant, by his despairing tone, made our prosperity less likely.

It seems that no one in the village can remember the last time a salmon was caught with a fly in the Sand River; catching this clever fish in a net is just as challenging. When we arrived at the riverbank, or more accurately, the rocky shore, the salmon were popping their heads above the water like bubbles in a boiling pot. They were jumping from one ledge of rock to a higher one, trying to make their way up a small waterfall that, while not very tall, was pouring down its water with the noise of a bigger waterfall. Although we were convinced that our chances of success were slim, our spirits lifted as our guide's despairing tone made our prospects seem even more unlikely.

All the most famous fishermen have visited this little river of Sand, and after adopting every mode, all of them have failed to take the fish. Although the salmon float within sight and reach in the most transparent stream, they will not touch the fly, be it thrown even on their noses. The only reason that can be given for this notorious fact is, that the salmon, when they leave the sea, are generally gorged, and do not desire, or seek for food until they have travelled some distance up the rivers; for it is equally well ascertained that the farther the first foss is removed from the mouth of a salmon river, the more voracious are the fish. Now, the foss, or fall of the Sand river, is scarcely five hundred feet from the shore of [Pg 321]the Fiord, and the water is salt, or, at least, brackish; and salmon are not caught in salt water.

All the most famous fishermen have fished this little river of Sand, and despite trying every technique, none of them have managed to catch any fish. Even though the salmon are swimming right in front of them in the clear water, they won't go for the fly, not even if it's thrown right at them. The only explanation for this well-known fact is that when salmon leave the sea, they are usually full and aren’t looking for food until they’ve traveled a bit further up the river; it’s also clear that the farther the first rapids are from the mouth of a salmon river, the hungrier the fish are. In this case, the rapids, or falls of the Sand river, are barely five hundred feet from the shore of [Pg 321]the Fiord, and the water there is salt or at least brackish, and salmon aren’t caught in saltwater.

It was certainly most annoying to my two companions, to see thousands of the finest fish gamboling in the crystal water, not far from their feet, and to throw their flies with the accumulated nicety of four Waltons, absolutely in the teeth of these obstinate creatures, without the semblance of success. I, myself, took R——'s rod, which with weariness of hope he had laid on the ground, and seeing a splendid salmon two feet below the surface of the stream, moving his fins slowly to resist the current and remain stationary, I placed the fly above his head, allowing the bait to sink gradually till it touched the top of his snout. The fish did not, verily, alter the motion of its fins, either more slothfully or quicker; but with perfect indifference permitted me to keep the fly dangling before its eyes as long as I pleased.

It was definitely super frustrating for my two friends to see thousands of gorgeous fish swimming in the clear water, not far from where they stood, while they cast their lines with the precision of four expert anglers, all to no avail against these stubborn fish. I picked up R——'s rod, which he had set down in defeat, and spotted a magnificent salmon two feet below the water's surface, slowly moving its fins to fight the current and stay in place. I cast the fly above its head, letting it sink gradually until it touched the tip of its snout. The fish didn’t change how it moved its fins at all; it continued to swim with complete indifference, allowing me to dangle the fly in front of its eyes for as long as I wanted.

To fish, therefore, at Sand was an absurdity; but having heard that the Fiord abounded with seals, and wild fowl of every denomination, we hoisted a square sail on the gig, and turned privateers.

To fish at Sand was pointless; however, after hearing that the Fiord was full of seals and all kinds of wild birds, we put up a square sail on the boat and became privateers.

The village of Sand is inclosed on three sides—north, east, and south—by mountains; but before it, to the west, spread the broad waters of the Fiord. The fragrant smell of uncultured flowers, the freshness of the [Pg 322]morning air, the serene loveliness of the sky and calm water, on which the mountains with their peaks of snow were distinctly reflected, even to the diminutive waterfall, and the whole solemn, yet sweet character of the scenery, pressed upon me with an indefinite feeling of delight and awe; and, sometimes yielding to the eternal aspirations and impulsive passions of the soul, my heart heaved with gratitude, that I had opportunity, health, and youth to see and feel with ardour the infinity of God's good creation; and, then, I would relapse into the humility of man's condition, the recollection of his trivial existence; and the combination of excessive beauty filled my mind with sadness.

The village of Sand is surrounded on three sides—north, east, and south—by mountains; but to the west, the broad waters of the Fiord stretch out. The sweet smell of wildflowers, the fresh morning air, and the peaceful beauty of the sky and calm water, which reflected the snowy mountain peaks and even the small waterfall, all created a solemn yet pleasant atmosphere that filled me with a vague sense of happiness and wonder. Sometimes, giving in to the endless aspirations and intense passions of my soul, I felt a surge of gratitude for having the opportunity, health, and youth to experience and deeply appreciate the vastness of God's beautiful creation. Other times, I would fall back into the humility of human existence, reminded of our insignificant lives; the overwhelming beauty would fill my mind with sadness.

Arming ourselves with two guns and a rifle, we scoured the Fiord for many miles round. No sooner did we fire at one seal that rose on the gig's bow, than another would poke his rat-like head above the water, at the stern, and a third and fourth on either beam. The report of our guns was incessant; and the multitudes of crows, wild geese, ducks, eagles, and gulls that croaked, and screamed, and whirled about above our heads, to hear the echoes rattling among their silent fastnesses, were incalculable.

Armed with two guns and a rifle, we searched the Fiord for many miles. No sooner had we fired at one seal that popped up at the front of the boat than another would poke its rat-like head out of the water at the back, and a third and fourth would appear on either side. The sound of our guns was constant, and the countless crows, wild geese, ducks, eagles, and gulls that cawed, screamed, and circled above us, hearing the echoes bouncing among their quiet hideouts, were beyond counting.

Our seal-hunts, however, were most entertaining, and the excitement relaxed not for an instant. The seal dives as soon as it is fired at, or alarmed; but cannot remain for a [Pg 323]prolonged period under water, nature making it compulsory that the animal should ascend to the surface for respiration. Having selected a particular seal, that appeared nearly as large as a sheep, we were determined, by dint of perseverance, to hunt it down. We divided our force in such a manner, that, rise where the animal would, one of us must immediately see it; for R—— took the starboard side of the gig, P—— went to port, and I stood at the stern, while the two sailors, one being a crack shot, kept watch a-head. None of us spoke; for the seal is as quick of hearing as of sight, and timid to a proverb; but it was arranged, that, whoever saw it first was to fire. We kept the boat broadside on, that is to say, her bow and stern faced either shore, and her two sides swept, up and down, the entire length of the Fiord. Regardless of myriads of gulls that flew close round our heads, screaming angrily, we abated not in attention to the water; and watched with straining eyes for the score of bubbles that usually precede the rising of a seal; and the water being brilliant and smooth as a looking-glass, they could not escape notice.

Our seal hunts were incredibly entertaining, and the excitement never let up. The seal dives as soon as it gets fired at or startled, but it can't stay underwater for long because nature requires it to come up for air. After spotting a seal that looked almost as big as a sheep, we were determined to catch it through sheer persistence. We divided our team so that wherever the animal surfaced, one of us would see it immediately; R—— took the right side of the boat, P—— went to the left, and I stood at the back, while the two sailors, one being an excellent shot, kept watch ahead. None of us spoke since seals are as quick to hear as they are to see, and they're notoriously timid; however, we agreed that whoever spotted it first would shoot. We kept the boat positioned broadside, meaning her bow and stern faced either shore, allowing us to scan the entire length of the Fiord. Ignoring the countless gulls flying angrily around us, we were laser-focused on the water, straining our eyes for the telltale bubbles that usually signal a seal's surfacing; and with the water shiny and smooth like a mirror, they were hard to miss.

Up came a sleek head not twenty yards from me, and down it went again, just in time before my rifle ball struck the eddying water; and at the same instant both barrels of R——'s gun, discharged one after another, made the drum of my ear ring.

Up popped a sleek head less than twenty yards from me, and then it sank back down just in time before my bullet hit the swirling water; at the same moment, both barrels of R——'s gun fired one after the other, making my ears ring.

[Pg 324]"Two of them," he murmured. P—— and the sailor fired almost immediately; but the seals were too quick for them. As fast as we could load, these creatures kept rising around us; and they only seemed to dive in order to spread the tidings below amongst their friends, for they increased in numbers at each emersion. After firing a great quantity of shot and powder to little purpose, we were making up our minds to attack a rock covered with gulls, when a large seal rose within reach of our oars, but sunk again the moment it discovered our propinquity. In a few minutes afterwards, it bounced, head first, to the top of the water, five-and-twenty or thirty yards from the boat; and R—— and I having granted P—— the preference of first shot, he gave the seal's full face the fuller benefit of a double charge of duck-shot. We never saw the seal again, although we loitered about the spot for an hour in the hope of finding its carcass. The cockswain persuaded us that the seal was dead to a certainty; but that P—— had stowed such a locker of shot in its head, it was too heavy to float.

[Pg 324]"Two of them," he whispered. P—— and the sailor shot almost right away, but the seals were too quick for them. As fast as we could reload, these creatures kept popping up around us; it seemed like they only dove to share the news below with their friends, because they multiplied in numbers every time they surfaced. After using a lot of shot and powder without much success, we were deciding to target a rock full of gulls when a large seal surfaced within reach of our oars, but submerged again as soon as it noticed us nearby. A few minutes later, it leaped headfirst to the surface, about twenty-five or thirty yards from the boat; R—— and I let P—— take the first shot, and he hit the seal squarely in the face with a double charge of duck shot. We never saw the seal again, even though we lingered at the spot for an hour hoping to find its body. The coxswain convinced us that the seal was definitely dead, but that P—— had loaded so much shot into its head that it was too heavy to float.

The rock, moving like a huge living mass, being so thickly covered with gulls, now attracted our attention; but we did not purpose to destroy them for the mere sake of slaughter; for R—— had bought a couple of young eagles a few days before, and it was necessary to procure food for them.

The rock, moving like a massive living creature, covered with so many gulls, caught our attention; but we didn’t plan to kill them just for fun; R—— had bought a couple of young eagles a few days earlier, and we needed to get food for them.

[Pg 325]"Let's pull to the rock," observed R——, "and see what we can do there."

[Pg 325]"Let's head over to the rock," suggested R——, "and see what we can do there."

"I assent," said P——; "but we had better pull round to leeward, and take them by surprise. What do you say, cockswain?"

"I agree," said P——; "but we should turn to the side away from the wind and catch them off guard. What do you think, cockswain?"

"Yes, your Honour," replied the man, "we shall never be able to near them as we pull now. Give the rock a wide berth, and get under the lee, as your honour says."

"Yes, Your Honor," the man replied, "we won't be able to get close to them as we are pulling now. Keep a safe distance from the rock and move to the sheltered side, just as you said."

"Pull away, then," said R——, to the two sailors; "but don't make a row with your oars in the water."

"Pull back, then," said R——, to the two sailors; "but don't make a fuss with your oars in the water."

The cockswain kept his eye on the rock, and, every now and then, hinted to me the course I should steer; for I had taken the tiller.

The coxswain kept an eye on the rock and occasionally signaled to me the direction I should go since I was steering.

"Port a little, your Honour," he said, in a voice hardly above a whisper. The gig obeyed her helm instantly. We gradually came near to the rock; and passing abreast of it, we could see the gulls basking in the hot sun; some, standing on one leg, having the other drawn up under the wing, and looking apathetically at us, while others arranged the feathers of their tails, or breasts, with their bills, much after the same fashion as ducks do, when they have been swimming in ponds, or dabbling in puddles.

"Steer a little to the left, Your Honor," he said, barely above a whisper. The boat followed her commands immediately. We slowly approached the rock; as we passed by it, we could see the gulls lounging in the hot sun—some standing on one leg with the other tucked under their wing, looking disinterestedly at us, while others were preening their tail feathers or chests with their beaks, just like ducks do after swimming in ponds or splashing in puddles.

"Put your helm to starboard, your Honour," said the cockswain to me in a quiet voice, "and bring her head right round."

"Turn your helm to the right, Your Honor," the coxswain said to me quietly, "and bring her head all the way around."

I did as desired; and the men pulling noiselessly, the boat glided towards the rock, [Pg 326]like a needle to a magnet. The gulls had all clustered to windward, and not one could be seen to leeward.

I did as requested; and the men rowed silently, the boat moved toward the rock, [Pg 326]like a needle to a magnet. The gulls had all gathered on the upwind side, and none could be seen on the downwind side.

"I have no shot," I observed to R——, who sat just before me; "but only balls."

"I can't take a shot," I said to R——, who sat right in front of me; "I only have balls."

"Never mind—they will do," R—— replied; "more credit to you if you kill any."

"Never mind—they'll do," R—— replied; "you'll get more credit if you kill any."

Letting the tiller ropes loose, I allowed the boat to choose its own course, and began to ram down my bullets. I tried two at a time. With a slight grating, the keel of the gig touched a sunken piece of land, and almost at the same time, its weigh was stopped entirely by the stem coming in gentle contact with the main rock.

Letting go of the tiller ropes, I let the boat pick its own path and started to load my bullets. I tried two at a time. With a slight grinding sound, the keel of the boat hit a submerged piece of land, and almost immediately after, its movement was completely halted as the bow gently made contact with the main rock.

Like so many cats, we now crawled, without a sound, from the boat; and P—— being the first to step on the rock, slipped back into the water. The gurgling of the water as it ran over the tops of his jack-boots, and the floundering P—— made to recover himself, alarmed two gulls, and they flew, screaming, into the air. We crouched to the bare rock; and these two sentinels, not distinguishing us from the colour of their roosting place, took a few gyrations, and then re-perched themselves on the rock. Aided by R—— and me, and the two sailors, P—— was got out of the water; but it was no easy matter to accomplish this, for his jack-boots had filled, to the brim, with water, and added considerably to his natural weight.

Like so many cats, we quietly crawled out of the boat; and P——, being the first to step onto the rock, slipped back into the water. The sound of the water gurgling over the tops of his jack-boots and his struggling to regain his balance startled two gulls, which flew off, screaming into the air. We crouched down against the bare rock, and the two gulls, unable to distinguish us from the color of their resting spot, circled a few times before settling back on the rock. With the help of R——, me, and the two sailors, we managed to get P—— out of the water, but it wasn't easy since his jack-boots had filled to the brim with water, adding significantly to his natural weight.

[Pg 327]We now stood fairly on the rock, prepared to encounter any given, or ungiven quantity of birds or beasts.

[Pg 327]We now stood firmly on the rock, ready to face any number of birds or animals, whether expected or unexpected.

"I say," observed R—— to me, in a low tone, "take a stone, or piece of moss, or mud, or anything, and shy it amongst them—just for a start."

"I say," R—— said to me quietly, "grab a stone, a piece of moss, some mud, or anything—just throw it among them to get things going."

The cockswain, who was close behind me, had overheard R——, and being more active than I, picked up a small pebble; and by way of giving warning to R—— and P——, said, under his breath,

The cockswain, who was right behind me, had overheard R——, and being quicker than I was, picked up a small pebble; and to warn R—— and P——, he said quietly,

"Helm's a-lee, your Honour."

"Turn the helm, your Honor."

The clicking of their triggers answered the signal; and the missile stone was tossed over the highest part of the rock in the midst of the placid gulls. With the shrill screams of a thousand imps they darted into the air.

The click of their triggers responded to the signal, and the missile stone was thrown over the tallest part of the rock among the calm gulls. With the high-pitched screams of a thousand little demons, they shot into the air.

"Blaze away, your Honours," shouted the cockswain, and mounting to the top of the rock, endeavoured with an oar, which he handled like a flail, to knock down every gull that came within reach. We all three fired at the same instant, and some dozen gulls made a summerset in the air, and with flapping wings and dangling legs, fell into the water. Those that were not killed outright, screeched piteously as they floated on the water. Their unscathed companions, with all the affection and courage of the brute creation, hovered over their fallen kinsfolk, and descending close to them, strove to bear them away with their [Pg 328]beaks. Each time we fired, the shock appeared to drive the gulls at a distance from us, as a discharge of heavy artillery might cause a regiment of soldiers to swerve backwards; but, as soon as the powder cleared away, these pugnacious birds returned to the vicinity of the rock, screaming loudly; and some of them were audacious enough to pounce upon our caps, and wreak their vengeance by giving us one or two hearty pecks. The cockswain, working like a telegraph with his swinging oar, generally contrived to pick off these skirmishers.

"Fire away, your Honors," shouted the coxswain, and climbing to the top of the rock, he tried with an oar, which he swung like a club, to knock down every gull that came within reach. All three of us fired at the same time, and a dozen gulls flipped in the air, flapping their wings and dangling their legs as they fell into the water. Those that weren’t killed instantly screeched sadly as they floated. Their unharmed companions, showing all the love and bravery of animals, hovered over their fallen friends, swooping close to them and trying to carry them away with their [Pg 328]beaks. Each time we shot, the blast seemed to push the gulls back, like how heavy artillery might force a regiment of soldiers to stagger backwards; but once the smoke cleared, these aggressive birds returned to the area around the rock, screaming loudly; and some were bold enough to dive onto our hats, getting their revenge by pecking us once or twice. The coxswain, swinging his oar like a signal, usually managed to take out these pesky intruders.

"Load, your Honours, load," exclaimed the sporting cockswain;—"here they come again."

"Load, Your Honors, load," shouted the enthusiastic coxswain;—"here they come again."

And a whole shoal of gulls, like a troop of Arab cavalry, came, flying with the speed of a whirlwind, to the attack. As soon as they were within gun-shot, R—— and P—— gave the van the contents of two tolerably good charges of large duck-shot, and I sent a couple of bullets, making the third brace, right into a small division of the approaching multitude. The surface of the water now appeared like a field of turnips that had forced their bulky white bodies above the earth, so thickly was it strewn with disabled and defunct gulls.

And a whole bunch of gulls, like a group of Arab cavalry, came flying in like a whirlwind to attack. As soon as they were within range, R—— and P—— fired off two decent loads of large duck-shot, and I sent a couple of bullets, making it three shots, right into a small part of the approaching crowd. The surface of the water now looked like a field of turnips that had pushed their big white bodies up from the ground, so densely was it covered with injured and dead gulls.

"Had those gulls not better be picked up?" said R——, while loading his gun, to the cockswain.

"Shouldn’t those gulls be picked up?" said R——, while loading his gun, to the coxswain.

"No, my Lord; let them be," replied the cockswain with as much excitement in his face [Pg 329]and manner, as if we had been bombarding a strong citadel. "As long as there's one on the water, the others will always come back; it's their love for one and t'other, my Lord."

"No, my Lord; let them be," replied the coxswain, his face and manner full of excitement, as if we had been attacking a strong fort. "As long as there's one in the water, the others will always come back; it's their love for each other, my Lord."

A bevy of wild ducks now scoured the sky to windward, and quacking all together, whirled round about in the air, and describing each circle smaller and lower than the preceding one, approached the rock.

A flock of wild ducks now searched the sky against the wind, quacking together as they swooped and circled in the air, each circle getting smaller and lower than the last, heading toward the rock.

"Keep your weather eye up, your Honour," exclaimed the cockswain from his commanding point to P——, who had not seen the advancing ducks; "keep your weather eye up. Here they come; here's provender, your Honour."

"Keep an eye out, sir," shouted the coxswain from his position to P——, who hadn’t noticed the ducks coming in; "keep an eye out. Here they come; here’s your food, sir."

His remembrance, no doubt, returned to the eagles on board, and which, by the bye, had been committed to his care. But the ducks kept a pretty good elevation, being more timid, or wary than the gulls; and my rifle now came into play. I took a random shot at the entire group just as it was making a masterly evolution; and a drake, evidently the general commanding, having ceased his quacking, and tumbling in tee-totum style to the water, sufficiently proved how correctly I had, for the first time, done my duty. The uproar of furious gulls and routed ducks was never heard in these silent Fiords since the Flood to such a clamorous extent; and I would not venture to say that the echoes were not as surprisingly loud as the cries of the birds themselves. [Pg 330]Urged on by the entreaties and gesticulations of the warlike cockswain, the slaughter lasted for an hour; but seeing that we had killed an ample quantity to feed the eagles for some days, and remembering that powder and shot could not be bought among the mountains of Norway, we retreated from the rock, and getting into the boat, began to gather our game. This occupied some little time; and after collecting a decent boatful, we lighted our meerschaums, and floated homewards.

His thoughts undoubtedly went back to the eagles on board, which, by the way, had been entrusted to his care. But the ducks stayed relatively high up, being more cautious than the gulls; and now it was time for my rifle to take action. I fired a random shot at the whole group just as they were performing a graceful maneuver; and a drake, clearly the leader, stopped quacking and fell into the water in a spinning dive, proving that I had successfully done my job for the first time. The chaotic noise of angry gulls and scattered ducks was never heard in these silent Fiords since the Flood to such a loud extent; and I wouldn't say that the echoes weren't as surprisingly loud as the birds' cries themselves. [Pg 330] Encouraged by the pleas and gestures of the determined coxswain, the shooting went on for an hour; but seeing that we had killed plenty to feed the eagles for several days, and remembering that powder and shot couldn't be purchased in the mountains of Norway, we pulled back from the rock, got into the boat, and started collecting our catch. This took a bit of time; and after filling the boat with a decent haul, we lit our pipes and drifted homeward.

We might have proceeded nearly half way, when P—— suddenly dropped the pipe from his mouth, and seizing his gun, fired it towards the shore, from which we were not twenty feet, without uttering a word.

We had probably gone about halfway when P—— suddenly dropped the pipe from his mouth, grabbed his gun, and shot it towards the shore, which was no more than twenty feet away, without saying a word.

"Be quick—load!" he said, at last, to both of us, ramming down his own charge as fast as he could. "Here's a seal."

"Be quick—load!" he finally said to us, stuffing his own charge down as quickly as possible. "Here's a seal."

"Where?" I asked,—"where?"

"Where?" I asked, "where?"

"Why, there," and he fired without any other explanation a second time at the, apparently, bare rock.

"See that," he said, and shot again at the apparently bare rock without giving any more explanation.

"I see him, and here goes," said R——, and taking a deliberate aim, fired also. "Missed him," he murmured.

"I see him, and here I go," said R——, and taking careful aim, he also fired. "Missed him," he murmured.

I just caught a glimpse of the seal's flat tail, as the animal slided from the rocky shore into the water.

I just saw the seal's flat tail as it slid from the rocky shore into the water.

"We have him," said P——, with brightened eyes, "if we act properly."

"We've got him," said P——, with shining eyes, "if we play our cards right."

"There he is!" shouted one of the sailors, [Pg 331]with a set of lungs that might be needful in a gale, as the seal rose about ten feet from the spot where it first sank.

"There he is!" shouted one of the sailors, [Pg 331]with a voice that could be useful in a storm, as the seal surfaced about ten feet from where it first disappeared.

"Don't make such a confounded row; you'd frighten the devil!" said R——, to the seafaring Stentor.

"Don't make such a messed-up noise; you'd scare the devil!" said R——, to the seafaring Stentor.

"Beg pardon, my Lord," replied the man, in a low voice, and touching his hat with a sheepish look.

"Excuse me, my Lord," the man replied softly, touching his hat with an embarrassed expression.

"Keep the boat broadside on," observed R—— to the cockswain.

"Keep the boat sideways," R—— said to the coxswain.

R—— had scarcely spoken, when the water bubbled a little, and the seal's black snout, with dilating nostrils, rose close under the gig's gunwale. The water whirled in eddies, and his tail, as he turned, appearing slightly above the surface, showed me that the seal had seen us, and dived again.

R—— had barely said a word when the water bubbled slightly, and the seal's black snout, with flaring nostrils, appeared just beneath the edge of the boat. The water swirled in circles, and as he turned, his tail, rising just above the surface, indicated that the seal had noticed us and then dove back down.

"He must come up in a minute; so, look out," whispered P——; and the triggers of both barrels of his gun clicked, as he breathed the fact and admonition. Fortunately the day was very calm, and the least disturbance, the fall of the thistle's down, marred the bright surface of the Fiord.

"He should be here any minute, so watch out," whispered P——; and the triggers of both barrels of his gun clicked as he shared the information and warning. Luckily, the day was very calm, and even the slightest disturbance, like the fall of thistle down, disrupted the smooth surface of the Fiord.

The head of the luckless seal soon peeped slowly up, a short way astern of the boat, and before his eyes had risen above the water to take a horizontal glance at us, P—— sent a handful, or so, of small shot into his nose. Down popped the little dark proboscis speedily as thought.

The unlucky seal's head gradually popped up a short distance behind the boat, and just before his eyes surfaced to take a horizontal look at us, P—— shot a handful of small pellets into his nose. Down went the little dark snout in an instant.

[Pg 332]"He hadn't much fresh air then," said R——, laughing at the promptitude with which P—— saluted the appearance of the unfortunate seal.

[Pg 332]"He didn't get much fresh air back then," R—— said, laughing at how quickly P—— reacted to seeing the poor seal.

"No; that's the way to do it," answered P——, smiling. Then turning to the sailors, he said,

"Nope, that's how it's done," replied P——, smiling. Then he turned to the sailors and said,

"Back astern."

"Go back."

The boat was accordingly backed, and so silently, that only the silvery sound of the water as it fell, drop by drop, from the oars, contended with the natural trickling of the ripples as they murmured under the ledges of rock.

The boat was backed up quietly, with only the soft sound of water dripping from the oars competing with the gentle murmur of ripples beneath the rocky edges.

"Here he comes," whispered R——, "close on our quarter."

"Here he comes," whispered R——, "right behind us."

The seal rose, like a cork, up to its fore fins as if it had suffered much torture from long retention of its breath, and, swifter than thought, R——'s gun flashed, and with a sharp report seemed to take a bucket of water from the Fiord, and fling it into the air. When the light gray smoke of the powder had rolled in a revolving cloud from the space intervening between us and the spot where the animal was observed, the water was white with froth, but no sign of the seal could be seen.

The seal shot up, like a cork, to its front fins as if it had endured a lot of torture from holding its breath for too long. In a flash, R——'s gun went off, and with a loud bang, it seemed to take a bucket of water from the Fiord and throw it into the air. When the light gray smoke from the gunpowder swirled like a cloud from the space between us and where we had seen the animal, the water was foamy and white, but there was no sign of the seal anywhere.

"By Jove! that's odd. I thought I had killed him to a certainty," said R——, somewhat surprised.

"Wow! That’s strange. I thought I had definitely killed him," said R——, somewhat surprised.

"Yes, my Lord, you hit him," observed the cockswain, consolingly. "I saw him reel over to port."

"Yes, my Lord, you got him," the cockswain noted reassuringly. "I saw him stumble to the left."

[Pg 333]"That's all right," said P——, "in that case he is done."

[Pg 333]"That's fine," said P——, "if that's the case, he's finished."

Once more two large bubbles, the spiteful heralds of the seal's advent, rose to the top of the water, and then burst with a slight sound.

Once again, two big bubbles, the annoying signs of the seal’s arrival, floated to the surface of the water and then popped with a soft sound.

The purple dye of blood tinged the water, and immediately afterwards the wounded seal, with lacerated fin, buoyed itself sluggishly to sight. Its heavy breathing, expressive of pain, could be heard by all of us in the boat; and levelling both their pieces, R—— and P—— fired together. The seal rolled over with a moan, not unlike the faint lowing of a calf, and floating in a pool of blood, rather than water, expired without a struggle. Rowing the boat to the spot, the cockswain and his messmate used their whole strength to pull the animal on board, its dimensions not being contemptible. We reached the yacht about midnight, proud of our day's sport.

The purple blood stained the water, and shortly after, the wounded seal, with a torn fin, slowly surfaced. Its heavy breathing, filled with pain, was audible to all of us in the boat; and aiming their rifles, R—— and P—— fired at the same time. The seal rolled over with a moan, resembling the faint lowing of a calf, and floated in a pool of blood instead of water, dying without a fight. As we rowed the boat to the spot, the coxswain and his friend used all their strength to pull the animal on board, its size being considerable. We reached the yacht around midnight, feeling proud of our day's catch.

Although it was the noon of night, it was light as at six o'clock in the afternoon; and, indeed it is not an easy thing to tell the hour of the day without referring to a time-piece; for there is but a very slight difference in this part of the globe, during the summer months, between the darkness of night and the transparency of day. This may sound paradoxical enough; but the fact is no less true for all that. It would be hardly necessary to observe, that the heat during the night in Norway is sometimes more oppressive than during the day; [Pg 334]and simply, I should imagine, because, before the setting and rising of the sun, sufficient time is not given to allow the ascending vapours to carry off the fervour retained by the earth; and added to which the sun does not sink at any period during the summer eighteen degrees below the horizon. His rays therefore assist in keeping up the hot temperature until two or three hours have elapsed, and then his great red face again begins to parch every thing that dares come within its range. Norway being also a very rocky country, absorbs the heat with wonderful facility, and as every one may know, is disinclined to part with it. Returning home at half-past twelve, or one, just before sunrise as I sometimes did, by some shadowed path along the mountains, I have placed my hand on the rocks, and found them still warm. The day, on the contrary, though exposed to the direct power of the sun, has the atmosphere always cooled by the wind, which is kept in motion more actively the hotter become the sun's rays, the heat being a circulating medium of itself. Indeed the departure of the sun is the signal for the wind's flight likewise; and the night is generally painfully calm.

Although it was midnight, it was as bright as six in the afternoon; and, honestly, it’s not easy to figure out the time of day without a clock, since in this part of the world during summer, there’s hardly any difference between the darkness of night and the brightness of day. This might sound strange, but it’s completely true. It’s worth noting that nighttime heat in Norway can sometimes feel more oppressive than during the day; [Pg 334] this is likely because there isn’t enough time before sunset and sunrise for the rising vapors to cool down the warmth retained by the earth. Plus, the sun doesn’t dip more than eighteen degrees below the horizon at any point during the summer. Its rays help maintain the high temperatures for an additional two or three hours, after which its intense heat starts to scorch everything in its path again. Norway, being a very rocky country, absorbs heat quite easily, and as anyone can tell you, is reluctant to let it go. Coming home at half-past twelve or one, just before sunrise like I sometimes did, along a shaded path in the mountains, I’ve touched the rocks and found them still warm. On the other hand, even with the sun shining strongly, the daytime air is always cooled by the wind, which moves more actively as the sun’s rays get hotter, since heat itself promotes circulation. In fact, when the sun sets, the wind typically calms down as well; and the night is often painfully still.

There is also another phenomenon that may rivet the observation of an inhabitant of a more Southern latitude, and convey as much sublimity to the mind, as it may be strange to the outward senses. I refer to the appearance of a great Northern city at night. I shall not [Pg 335]easily forget Bergen, when for the first time, I walked through its streets at three o'clock in the morning, and saw a bright sun in a blue sky shining over it. Not a sound, beside my own footstep, disturbed the stillness; and when I turned my eyes from the long, deserted avenues of streets and closed windows of the houses, towards the mountains that droop sullenly over the town, and sought there for some living sign to assure me that I was not absolutely alone, not a bird or insect chirped or flitted on the wing. I felt amid this desolation as if wandering in the fabled City of Death; nor do I think that any man, the most elastic of disposition, could bring to his heart any other feelings than those of awe and sadness, when walking, as I did then, in the glare of day through the thoroughfares of a populous city, he witnesses the silence and solemnity that pervade it. I am glad that I have seen Bergen at midnight, for I would see everything in this curious world; but the reflections that troubled my mind were so much more than the sight was worth that I have no desire to look again.

There’s also another experience that might capture the attention of someone from a warmer place and be just as awe-inspiring to the mind as it is strange to the senses. I'm talking about the sight of a big Northern city at night. I won’t [Pg 335]easily forget Bergen when I first walked its streets at three in the morning and saw a bright sun in a blue sky above. Not a sound, except for my own footsteps, broke the silence. When I looked away from the long, empty streets and closed windows of the buildings to the mountains that loomed gloomily over the town, I searched for some sign of life to reassure me that I wasn’t completely alone, yet not a bird or insect chirped or fluttered by. I felt in that emptiness as if I were wandering through the legendary City of Death; and I don’t think anyone, no matter how upbeat they are, could feel anything other than awe and sadness when, as I did then, they walk in broad daylight through the streets of a bustling city only to witness the overwhelming silence and solemnity that surrounds it. I’m glad I saw Bergen at midnight because I want to experience everything in this strange world; however, the thoughts that weighed on my mind were far more than the view was worth, so I have no desire to see it again.






CHAPTER XVII.

THE DANGEROUS STRAITS—BRITISH SEAMANSHIP—THE GLACIERS OF FOLGEFONDE—BERGEN—HABITS OF THE FISHERMEN—THE SOGNE FIORD—LEERDAL—ARRIVAL AT AURON—A HOSPITABLE HOST—ASCENDING THE MOUNTAINS—THE TWO SHEPHERDESSES—HUNTING THE REIN-DEER—ADVENTURE ON THE MOUNTAINS—SLAUGHTERING DEER—THE FAWN.

THE DANGEROUS STRAITS—BRITISH SEAMANSHIP—THE GLACIERS OF FOLGEFONDE—BERGEN—HABITS OF THE FISHERMEN—THE SOGNE FIORD—LEERDAL—ARRIVAL AT AURON—A HOSPITABLE HOST—ASCENDING THE MOUNTAINS—THE TWO SHEPHERDESSES—HUNTING THE REINDEER—ADVENTURE ON THE MOUNTAINS—SLAUGHTERING DEER—THE FAWN.


The time was now drawing to a close that we had purposed to spend in Norway, because we desired to return to England and be present at the regattas which usually take place towards the latter part of July, or commencement of August along the southern coast of England; and therefore it became necessary that we should move with more expedition from place to place than we had hitherto done. A great many plans had suggested themselves to us, and it was a wish to carry them out that had enticed us in the first instance to Scandinavia; some we had already fulfilled, but there were others as important in the list of pleasure not yet realized. Moreover, our provisions, both for our personal use and for the use of the yacht's company, were dwindling to scarcity; and among these barren mountains no bread or meat could be bought. Bidding farewell, therefore, to the beautiful village of Sand, and to the kind hearts that increased its beauty, [Pg 337]we made all sail the subsequent day for Bergen.

The time was coming to an end for our stay in Norway because we wanted to return to England to attend the regattas that usually happen in late July or early August along the southern coast. So, we needed to move around more quickly than we had been. Many plans had crossed our minds, and it was our desire to make them happen that first drew us to Scandinavia; some we had already accomplished, but there were still other important experiences we hadn’t yet enjoyed. Additionally, our supplies for ourselves and the yacht's crew were running low, and there was no bread or meat to be found among these barren mountains. So, bidding farewell to the lovely village of Sand and the kind people who made it even more beautiful, [Pg 337] we set sail for Bergen the next day.

Siggen, the loftiest scion of Norwegian mountains, soon towered with conic form before and above us; and taking a shorter and different course than the one we had previously steered, we were spectators, as we proceeded, of the most magnificent scenery that the imagination could conceive. We were so fortunate as to keep a fine strong wind the whole way; and our pilot, who was an old and expert mariner, did not hesitate to contend with the rapid currents that flow between the thousand islands which obstruct the narrower and more unfrequented channels of the Bukke Fiord. The cutter, too, retained her celebrity for swiftness, and during her passage to Bergen showed her aptitude to overcome every emergency.

Siggen, the tallest peak of the Norwegian mountains, soon rose in a cone shape before us; by taking a shorter and different route than we had before, we witnessed the most stunning scenery imaginable. We were lucky to have a strong wind all the way; our pilot, an experienced and skilled sailor, confidently navigated the fast currents flowing between the countless islands that block the narrower and less traveled waters of Bukke Fiord. The cutter also maintained its reputation for speed, demonstrating its ability to handle every challenge on the way to Bergen.

There are, half way between Sand and Bergen and within sight of mighty Siggen, two small islands of rock, disunited by a narrow channel not three hundred yards broad, and between which the stream rushes from a northern to a southern direction with much fleetness and force. It was necessary to pass through this channel; and if any difficulty could have arisen in our pilot's mind as to the efficiency of the yacht in making good her passage to Bergen, and unwarranting his boldness in selecting a path out of the ordinary track, it was the remembrance of this little strait.

There are, halfway between Sand and Bergen and in sight of the mighty Siggen, two small islands of rock, separated by a narrow channel that’s not three hundred yards wide, through which the current flows swiftly from north to south with great speed and strength. We needed to pass through this channel; and if there was any doubt in our pilot's mind about the yacht's ability to make it successfully to Bergen, making him question his daring choice to take a less common route, it was the memory of this small strait.

[Pg 338]On Friday morning, the 16th, two days after we had left Sand, the two islands, each with its solitary cottage belonging to some fishermen, hove in sight. The wind blew nearly due north, and was, as sailors say, "dead on end" for us. As the cutter came up to the islands, we saw a fleet of Norwegian vessels at anchor, waiting a change of wind to attempt the passage.

[Pg 338]On Friday morning, the 16th, two days after we left Sand, we spotted two islands, each with a lone cottage owned by some fishermen. The wind was blowing almost directly north, which, as sailors put it, was "dead on end" for us. As the cutter approached the islands, we noticed a fleet of Norwegian ships anchored, waiting for a change in the wind to try making the crossing.

While the pilot and D—— held a short consultation regarding the capabilities of the yacht, she had already glided, with the noiseless speed of a spirit, into the midst of native brigs and Dutch barges, for they cannot be called, ships. The beauty of the cutter, and the English ensign streaming from the peak, combined with the strange place and novelty of a vessel like the yacht, were quite enough to cause conjecture and excitement among the crews of the different Norwegian and Dutch craft, and to crowd their decks with spectators. The proud, swan-like appearance with which the cutter sailed towards the channel, still more moved their astonishment; and when the first eddy caught the yacht on her weather bow and swung her to leeward, they were satisfied of the impudent attempt we were contemplating.

While the pilot and D—— had a quick discussion about the yacht's capabilities, she had already glided silently like a spirit into the midst of local brigs and Dutch barges—if they can even be called ships. The beauty of the cutter, with the English flag flying from the peak, combined with the unusual setting and the novelty of a vessel like the yacht, was enough to spark curiosity and excitement among the crews of the various Norwegian and Dutch boats, filling their decks with onlookers. The proud, swan-like appearance of the cutter as she sailed toward the channel only added to their astonishment, and when the first wave caught the yacht on her weather bow and swung her to leeward, they realized the audacious maneuver we were planning.

Every sail of the yacht flapped, and the skilful management of the helm alone prevented the boom from jibing. The pilot now saw that the task was not one which the Iris [Pg 339]would, as he had hoped, surmount with ease, and going as far forward as he could, stood on the weather bow as if to re-consider what he was about to undertake. Fixing his eyes long and steadily on the swift flowing water, he appeared to think that, should the wind fail, or the strong current bear us back, the danger was manifest.

Every sail on the yacht flapped, and the skillful handling of the helm kept the boom from swinging over. The pilot realized that this was not going to be an easy task for the Iris [Pg 339], as he had hoped, so he moved as far forward as he could, standing on the weather bow as if reconsidering what he was about to do. He focused his gaze on the fast-flowing water, seeming to think that if the wind died down or the strong current pushed us back, the danger would be clear.

During the old pilot's meditation, D—— had mechanically taken his position aft, close to the helmsman on the weather quarter. More fairly, the cutter now started a second time, and, standing well up, promised to fetch the very centre of the passage. The gaff-topsail shook.

During the old pilot's meditation, D—— had automatically taken his position at the back, close to the helmsman on the weather side. More accurately, the cutter started again, and, standing tall, seemed set to reach the very center of the passage. The gaff-topsail trembled.

"Keep her well full," said D—— to the helmsman. The man kept her half a point more free. The current boiled, and eddied, and bubbled, as all swift running water will do; and when again it caught the cutter's bow, we could all feel the shock just as if she had touched a sand-bank.

"Keep her well full," said D—— to the helmsman. The man kept her half a point more loose. The current churned, swirled, and bubbled, just like any fast-moving water does; and when it caught the cutter's bow again, we all felt the jolt as if she had hit a sandbank.

"Blow, sweet breeze," said D——, half to himself, half aloud; and casting his eyes, alternately from the flying jib and foresail to the swelling gaff-topsail, stooped down and looked under the boom at the land.

"Blow, sweet breeze," said D——, mostly to himself but also out loud; and shifting his gaze back and forth from the flying jib and foresail to the billowing gaff-topsail, he bent down and peeked under the boom at the shore.

"Steady,—the helm," exclaimed the pilot, as he still stood to windward, holding the bulwarks and bending slightly over the bow.

"Steady at the helm," shouted the pilot, as he continued to position himself against the wind, gripping the railing and leaning slightly over the front of the boat.

"Steady, sir," answered the helmsman.

"Steady, sir," replied the helmsman.

Scarcely had the man made answer, than a [Pg 340]puff filled every stitch of canvass, and the cutter yielding to its pressure, leaned over and shot, like a shaft, right into the middle of the channel.

Scarcely had the man answered when a [Pg 340] puff filled every inch of canvas, and the cutter, responding to its force, leaned over and shot like an arrow right into the middle of the channel.

"She'll do it now," said R—— to D——.

"She'll do it now," said R—— to D——.

"She will, my Lord," replied D——, "if this puff holds ten minutes."

"She will, my Lord," replied D——, "if this puff lasts ten minutes."

The wind did hold; and behaving well on this, her first tack, and edging up in the wind's eye whenever she could get the chance, the impatient cutter seemed willing to clear the channel on her second tack. The pilot made much of the narrow berth, and ran close to the shore.

The wind held steady; and performing well on this, her first tack, and steering into the wind's eye whenever she had the chance, the eager cutter appeared ready to clear the channel on her second tack. The pilot paid great attention to the narrow space and ran close to the shore.

"I suppose the water is pretty deep here, eh?" asked R——, addressing himself to D——.

"I guess the water is pretty deep here, right?" asked R——, turning to D——.

"Oh! yes, my Lord; or the pilot would——"

"Oh! yes, my Lord; or the pilot would——"

"'Bout!" shouted the pilot, cutting D—— off in his reply.

"'Bout!" shouted the pilot, interrupting D——'s response.

"'Bout!" echoed the helmsman.

"'Bout!" echoed the helmsman.

"Put the helm hard up," continued the pilot excitedly, in a louder voice; "she mustn't shoot."

"Turn the wheel all the way to the right," the pilot said excitedly, raising his voice; "she can't veer off course."

"Ay, ay, sir," again replied the helmsman, and in obedience to the reply the cutter spun round, like a top. The noise of the sails and blocks, while the vessel was in stays, roused the fishermen, their wives, and children, who dwelt in the two cottages to which I have cursorily alluded, and they gathered about the [Pg 341]doors to look on. I heard those hardy fishermen make some observation, for at intervals, we were not many yards from their houses, either in derision of the cutter being imagined competent to work through the channel, or in laudation of the seaman-like skill with which she was managed. They called aloud each to the other across the water, and spoke in praise or admiration; but being in a dialect of the Norwegian language I could not tell what they said, and how they thought. We had made a fair reach, and it was no longer audacity to hope, that, the cutter was a match for the current. To get a better view of the feat, some of the Dutchmen and Norwegians had mounted the shrouds of their vessels, and appeared to take as much interest in the trial as we did.

"Aye, aye, sir," the helmsman replied again, and in response, the cutter spun around like a top. The noise from the sails and blocks as the vessel was maneuvering woke up the fishermen, their wives, and kids who lived in the two cottages I mentioned briefly, and they gathered around the [Pg 341]doors to watch. I heard those tough fishermen making comments, as we were not far from their houses, either mocking the cutter for being thought capable of navigating through the channel or praising the skill with which it was handled. They shouted to each other across the water, either in praise or admiration, but since they were speaking a Norwegian dialect, I couldn’t understand what they were saying or how they felt. We had made a good distance, and it no longer seemed foolish to hope that the cutter could handle the current. To get a better view of the situation, some of the Dutchmen and Norwegians had climbed the shrouds of their boats and seemed as interested in the trial as we were.

"'Bout!" a second time exclaimed the pilot, and turning towards the helmsman, made a rotary motion with his hand to bring the cutter right round at once.

"'Bout!" the pilot shouted again, and turning to the helmsman, he gestured with his hand to spin the cutter around immediately.

"'Bout!" reiterated the helmsman, and lashed the tiller close up under the weather quarter bulwarks. With equal adroitness, as at first, the sails were let go and drawn aft, and our gallant vessel appeared not to feel the resistance of the rapid tide. The wind, although foul as any wind could be, blew steadily as any wind could blow, and the Iris, under its favour, reluctantly though it seemed given, was in another and third tack again in still water. The Dutch and Norwegian crews [Pg 342]could not resist expressing their admiration; and flourishing their caps over their heads while standing in their rigging, they gave us three rounds of lusty cheers. The soaring, sombre mountains took up the echoes, and returned not cheer for cheer, but bellowed a ten-fold multiplication of huzzas.

"'Bout!" shouted the helmsman, securing the tiller tightly against the weather side of the bulwarks. With the same skill as before, the sails were released and pulled back, and our brave ship seemed to glide effortlessly against the strong tide. The wind, even though it was as bad as it could get, blew steadily, and the Iris, although it seemed reluctant, was once again moving smoothly in still water. The Dutch and Norwegian crews [Pg 342]couldn't help but express their admiration; waving their caps over their heads while standing in the rigging, they cheered us with three hearty rounds. The towering, dark mountains echoed back, not with cheers of their own, but with a booming response of tenfold huzzas.

Since we had taken leave, we had seen no vessel to remind us of England; and although, wherever we went, the natives would tell us some of our countrymen were in the immediate neighbourhood, we never had the good fortune to fall in with them. We had received no tidings, good or bad, from home; and Europe, as far as we knew, might be in revolutionary confusion: at Bergen, however, we hoped that letters were awaiting our arrival.

Since we left, we hadn't seen any ships to remind us of England; and even though the locals kept saying some of our fellow countrymen were nearby, we never got lucky enough to run into them. We hadn't heard anything, good or bad, from home; and as far as we knew, Europe could be in a state of chaos: still, in Bergen, we were hopeful that there would be letters waiting for us.

Saturday the 17th of July, at midnight, we brought up off Bergen. It was too late to pay much attention to any object; and after a careless view of the town from deck, I went to bed.

Saturday, July 17th, at midnight, we arrived near Bergen. It was too late to focus on anything in particular, so after a quick look at the town from the deck, I went to bed.

The position of Bergen is similar to that of most of the other Norwegian towns I had seen, girt on three sides with lofty, rocky mountains; and on the fourth side by the blue waters of the Fiord. I looked on Bergen with the liveliest interest, because its name was familiar to me when a child, and I used to lisp the word before I could walk steadily; for in those young days of waywardness my old schoolmistress, whose peaked nose and malicious heart are still a vivid truth, would threaten [Pg 343]to give me to the fishermen at Bergen who, she said, would take and toss me into the Maelstrom. With an eagerness akin to that of a schoolboy at Christmas, gazing on the green curtain of a theatre, the moment it is rising to disclose its wondrous entertainments, did I, travelling headlong in memory from childhood to manhood and stumbling over a batch of ancient feelings, stand looking, with strained eyes, on the white-washed, quaint-fashioned Bergen, balancing the vicissitudes of life and conjecturing what the chances might be, I should not, by some agency as unaccountable as that which had brought me hither, be looking in three months' time on the Golden shore of the Bight of Biaffir.

The layout of Bergen is similar to that of most other Norwegian towns I've seen, surrounded on three sides by tall, rocky mountains and on the fourth side by the blue waters of the fjord. I looked at Bergen with great interest because its name was familiar to me from childhood, and I would say the word before I could walk properly; in those whimsical days, my old schoolteacher, whose pointed nose and mean spirit are still fresh in my mind, would threaten [Pg 343] to hand me over to the fishermen in Bergen who, she said, would throw me into the Maelstrom. With a excitement similar to that of a schoolboy at Christmas, waiting for the theater curtain to rise and reveal its amazing show, I found myself lost in memories, jumping from childhood to adulthood and tripping over a mix of old feelings, staring intently at the quaint, whitewashed Bergen, weighing the ups and downs of life and wondering what the chances might be that, by some mysterious force that had brought me here, I would be looking at the Golden shore of the Bight of Biaffir in three months.

South-east of Bergen, twenty miles from the deck on which I stand, blazing with dazzling splendour in the mid-day sun, the glaciers of Folgefonde fall upon my sight; and raising its summit six thousand feet to heaven, the stupendous range of mountain with its field of ice, forty miles in length and twenty in breadth, braves with eternal snow the tropic fury of this northern noon.

South-east of Bergen, twenty miles from the viewpoint where I stand, shining brilliantly in the midday sun, the glaciers of Folgefonna come into view; and towering six thousand feet into the sky, the impressive mountain range with its ice field, forty miles long and twenty miles wide, withstands the scorching heat of this northern noon with its eternal snow.

Surrounded as Bergen is by mountains of solid rock which, at a little distance, appear completely black, some of the buildings painted green, and others white, with their uniform roofs of red tiles, have a very singular effect. The houses reared, with much order, on piles near the water, are also neatly constructed of [Pg 344]wood; and their bright colours are not permitted to become tarnished by exposure to the weather, but may contend with Holland in cleanliness and the freshness of their paint. This first favourable glance from the deck of the yacht was not altered when I had found myself in the streets. The inhabitants seemed a lively, talkative set, and accustomed to mix with foreigners, for they paid less attention to us than their countrymen and women in the other towns we had visited.

Surrounded by solid rock mountains that look completely black from a distance, Bergen's buildings — some painted green and others white, all topped with red tile roofs — create a striking image. The houses, neatly raised on piles near the water, are also well-built from [Pg 344]wood, and their bright colors are kept pristine against the weather, rivaling Holland in cleanliness and the vibrancy of their paint. This initial positive impression from the yacht deck stayed true when I wandered into the streets. The locals appeared lively and chatty, clearly used to interacting with tourists, as they seemed to pay less attention to us than the residents in other towns we had visited.

The most important export trade of Bergen consists of timber and salt fish, which are sent to the Mediterranean and Holland. The stench arising from the fish, which is packed in great heaps on the eastern quay of the harbour, is insuperable; and I leave the reader's imagination to reach that height of misery when an unfortunate sight-seeker and traveller like myself, loses his way, at broiling noon, in the vicinity of this market, the thermometer being at 90°, and the ling fish at perfection. How the old fishwomen, the natural guardians of this northern frankincense, chatter and squabble! With their blue petticoats tucked up above their knees, how they pick off the stray pieces of raw haddock, or cod, and, with creaking jaws, chew them; and while they ruminate, bask their own flabby carcasses in the sun! With the dried tail of a herring sticking out of their saffron-coloured, shrivelled chops, Lord! how they gaped when I passed by, hurriedly, like a scared cat!

The main exports from Bergen are timber and salted fish, which are shipped to the Mediterranean and Holland. The smell from the fish, piled high on the eastern quay of the harbor, is unbearable; and I’ll let your imagination fill in the details of the misery that an unfortunate tourist and traveler like me experiences when getting lost at the blazing noon sun, with temperatures hitting 90°, surrounded by perfectly fresh ling fish. The old fishwomen, who naturally guard this northern treasure, babble and argue! With their blue skirts rolled up above their knees, they pick off stray bits of raw haddock or cod and, with creaky jaws, chew them; and while they chew, they soak up the sun with their own flabby bodies! With the dried tail of a herring sticking out of their wrinkled, saffron-colored mouths, gosh, how they stared when I hurried by, like a frightened cat!

[Pg 345]Being pressed for time, as I have hinted before, we did not waste much at Bergen for the present, promising ourselves a longer sojourn when we returned from the Sogne Fiord, for thither were we bound. The primary object that sent us up the Sogne Fiord was, certainly, a little more salmon-fishing; but rein-deer stalking had taken a tender hold of R——'s game side. At Leerdal, a town at the farthest extremity of the Sogne Fiord, and nearly one hundred miles to the north of Bergen, my two friends had heard flowed a wonderful salmon river; and they relied with confidence on the great chances of brilliant success since the stream was so far removed from the path of common travellers. To the northward, too, of Leerdal was Auron, a spot held in repute for the herds of rein-deer that frequent the mountains there; and failing in salmon, my companions might fall to venison. Replenishing, therefore, our exhausted provisions, we secured on Monday evening the services of two pilots; and on Tuesday morning, the 20th, we set sail for Leerdal. The whole of that day was calm; and being on a cruise of much novelty and anticipated sport, this lukewarmness of the wind touched our patience very severely. On any other occasion we should not have observed its indifference; but now we fretted, and expressed our annoyance in clamorous and bitter terms. Towards evening the cutter drifted among a [Pg 346]fleet of fishing-boats; and it was no little entertainment to see the rapidity with which the fishermen drew net after net, and the shoals of fish they caught. Flocks of gulls hovered over the boats, and screamed; and sometimes darted down, and bore away the fish in their beaks. We purchased some very large fish, which were not cod, but very like them; and satisfied with their great likeness to that favourite fish, we ate them with greediness; but the heads being of an abominable bull-dog shape, the cook was ordered to decapitate, before committing them to the pot.

[Pg 345]Pressed for time, as I mentioned before, we didn’t linger in Bergen, promising ourselves a longer stay when we returned from the Sogne Fiord. That was our destination. The main reason for heading up the Sogne Fiord was, of course, to do a bit more salmon fishing, but R—— had developed a strong interest in stalking reindeer. In Leerdal, a town at the farthest end of the Sogne Fiord, nearly one hundred miles north of Bergen, my two friends had heard about an amazing salmon river. They were confident in our chances of success since the river was far off the usual tourist paths. To the north of Leerdal was Auron, known for its herds of reindeer that roam the mountains; if the salmon didn't pan out, my friends could try for venison. So, after replenishing our depleted supplies, we arranged for two pilots on Monday evening, and on Tuesday morning, the 20th, we set sail for Leerdal. The whole day was calm; being on such a novel and exciting adventure, the light wind tested our patience severely. Under different circumstances, we wouldn’t have minded, but now we grew frustrated and voiced our annoyance loudly and bitterly. By evening, the boat drifted among a [Pg 346]fleet of fishing boats, and it was quite entertaining to watch the fishermen quickly pull in net after net, catching shoals of fish. Gulls hovered over the boats, screaming, and sometimes swooping down to snatch fish in their beaks. We bought some large fish that weren’t cod but looked very much like them; pleased with how similar they were to our favorite fish, we ate them eagerly. However, since their heads were hideously bulldog-shaped, we had the cook cut them off before putting them in the pot.

On Wednesday morning we entered the Sogne Fiord. It would be tedious to dwell on the magnificence, beauty, and silence of this Fiord; because it would only become a repetition of what I have already attempted to describe as native to the other Fiords. There can be no softer, and more soul-stirring scenery in the world than its small, rare, green valleys, and barren mountains.

On Wednesday morning, we entered the Sogne Fjord. It would be tiring to go on about the grandeur, beauty, and tranquility of thisfjord, as it would just be repeating what I’ve already tried to describe about the other fjords. There’s no scenery in the world more gentle and moving than its small, unique green valleys and stark mountains.

This evening, towards sunset, the cutter being becalmed, I went ashore in one of the boats with two men, in search of milk; and making the boat fast to a piece of rock, we walked to the top of a neighbouring hill to look for some signs of a human habitation; but only the waters of the Fiord could be seen at our feet, and the yacht, with a cloud of white canvass, floating on its still surface. No sound,—not a bird's note, nor the cry of [Pg 347]animals, fell on the listening ear; save, occasionally, the loud roar and splash of the rocks as they were loosened from the mountains' sides, and rolled down into the water. Wandering about for some time, struck with the sublime, solemn aspect of the mountains and their level summits of endless snow, we found a goat tied with a string to a stake; and taking that as a token of the near abode of human beings, we strove to find some track through the long grass that might lead us to a cottage. One of the sailors climbed up a tree, and veering his body about in all quarters, like a bear on the top of a pole, came down again, and said, that he saw smoke curling upwards from the middle of a fir forest to the south-east. I had a small pocket-compass, and to the south-east, therefore, we went; and after stumbling over fallen rocks, and pulling each other up and down a variety of ravines, differing in depth and ruggedness, we succeeded in arriving at last before a very neat and comfortable cottage. An old woman, clean in dress and comely in her person, came to the door, having, on either side of her, two youths evidently her sons, for their features bore a strong resemblance to her own; and between the lad on her right hand, and the dame's black gown, a large dog, mongrel in his breed, thrust his inquisitive nose. Out of the four windows, which I attributed to the bed-rooms, the heads of four girls popped. Three [Pg 348]half-naked savages, or the Graces, could not have caused more excitement in the streets of London, than we did to the amiable inmates of this lonely cottage; for I do not suppose there was another house, or hovel, within twenty miles. King, who had come with us, endeavoured to explain the object of our visit by a request, made in the Norwegian language, for milk, and by holding up the empty jug; but the old woman shook her head, and glancing at the two lads, they shook their heads, and the four girls above shook their heads too, but with the quick perception of drollery common to their sex,—they laughed. King made a step or two nearer to the cottage door to explain himself more distinctly; but the old lady retrograded in the same proportion as King advanced, her two sons following her example, and, likewise, the dog growling most gutturally.

This evening, as the sun was setting and the boat was stuck in calm waters, I went ashore with two men to look for milk. After securing the boat to a rock, we climbed to the top of a nearby hill to search for signs of human life; all we could see was the water of the fjord below us and the yacht with its white sails floating on the still surface. There was no sound—no bird calls or animal cries—except for the occasional loud roar and splash of rocks tumbling down from the mountains into the water. We wandered for a while, struck by the majestic, solemn look of the mountains with their endless snowy peaks, and discovered a goat tied to a stake. Taking that as a sign of nearby humans, we tried to find a path through the tall grass that might lead us to a cottage. One of the sailors climbed a tree and, swaying around like a bear on a pole, came down and said he saw smoke rising from a fir forest to the southeast. I had a small pocket compass, so we headed southeast and, after tripping over fallen rocks and helping each other through various deep, rough ravines, we eventually reached a neat and cozy cottage. An old woman, dressed neatly and looking pleasant, came to the door with two young men who were clearly her sons, as they shared a strong resemblance to her. Between the boy on her right and her black dress, a large mixed-breed dog poked its curious nose. Four heads popped up from the four windows, which I assumed were the bedrooms. Three half-naked savages or the Graces couldn't have caused more excitement in the streets of London than we did to the cheerful residents of this lonely cottage; I doubt there was another house or shack within twenty miles. King, who had come with us, tried to explain our visit by asking for milk in Norwegian and holding up the empty jug, but the old woman shook her head. The two boys joined in, shaking their heads as well, and the four girls above followed suit, although with a lighthearted understanding of the situation—they laughed. King took a couple of steps closer to the cottage door to clarify his request, but the old lady backed away as he approached, her two sons following her lead, along with the dog growling deeply.

"They don't understand you," I said to King.

"They don't get you," I said to King.

"Oh! yes, Sir, they do," he replied; "but they can't make us out, and are afraid."

"Oh! yes, Sir, they do," he responded; "but they can't figure us out, and they're scared."

"The girls ain't afraid, your Honour," observed the good-humoured cockswain, who was the other sailor, beside King, with me, and had been coquetting already with the four lasses. We beckoned to them to come down, and one immediately withdrew her head, and the next moment peeped over the old woman's shoulder. She seemed inclined to speak with [Pg 349]us, but the old hag would not permit such conduct: and the more earnestly King notified our pacific errand, the more belligerent the ancient mother thought it.

"The girls aren't scared, Your Honor," said the cheerful coxswain, who was the other sailor with me alongside King and had already been flirting with the four girls. We waved for them to come down, and one quickly pulled her head back, but the next moment she peeked over the old woman’s shoulder. She seemed like she wanted to talk to us, but the old hag wouldn’t allow that: and the more determined King was in explaining our peaceful purpose, the more hostile the old woman became.

We were obliged to return without the milk; but I am sure, if the eldest girl had been allowed to use her own discretion, she would have supplied our wants; for when we had gone some distance from the cottage, I looked back and saw her standing at the door; and kissing my hand to her, she returned the salute readily.

We had to go back without the milk, but I’m sure if the oldest girl had been given the chance to decide for herself, she would have gotten what we needed. As we walked a bit away from the cottage, I turned to look back and saw her standing in the doorway; when I waved goodbye, she waved back without hesitation.

I thought the old woman inhospitable, to say nothing of inhuman; for among these solitary mountains we might have lost our way, for aught she knew, and our wants exceeded a pint of milk. This is not, however, the general character of the Norwegians, for they are tender-hearted, kind, and generous to strangers; but fear had superseded the sympathy of the old lady's expansive heart; and had men of riper years than her sons been present, we should not have met with so much inattention to our necessities. Even the girl, young though she was, desired to administer to our need; but sweetness of manner, simplicity, tenderness, and noble generosity are unchanging types of the youthful female character in every quarter of the earth.

I found the old woman unfriendly, not to mention cold-hearted; for in these remote mountains, we could have easily gotten lost, and our needs went beyond just a pint of milk. However, this doesn't reflect the overall nature of Norwegians, who are usually warm-hearted, kind, and generous to strangers; but the old lady's fear overshadowed her naturally caring heart. If there had been other older men present besides her sons, we wouldn’t have experienced such neglect regarding our needs. Even the girl, though young, wanted to help us; but kindness, simplicity, compassion, and sincere generosity are timeless traits of young women everywhere.

When I got on board again, R—— and P—— were amusing themselves by firing, one by one, at all the empty soda-water bottles [Pg 350]that the steward could find. The bottles were slung to an oar which was stuck upright in the taffrail aft; and placing themselves close to the windlass, my two associates secured a range of some forty or fifty feet along the deck. Now and then a grampus would divert their attention; and every time the fish rose, a bullet was lodged, or attempted to be lodged, in his huge dorsal fin. In this way the greater portion of the time was passed, altered only by rowing about in the gig, and seeking for wild ducks among the crevices of the rocks. But the farther we sailed into the interior of the Fiord, the more bereft of animal and vegetable life the country appeared to become; the scream of the eagle, and the report of the rocks as they split asunder and bounded down the mountains, being the only sounds that varied the silent monotony. Sometimes the swivels were fired for the sake of listening to the echoes, which, by their prolonged reverberations, repaid us well for the lard we consumed in greasing the muzzles; a salute of nineteen or twenty guns, fired at intervals of fifteen or seventeen seconds, creating the most astonishing uproar; and what with the shrill screams of the eagles, the consternation of wild geese, and the falling of the rocks caused by the violent motion of the atmosphere, the powder and tow were profitably expended by the novel entertainment they produced. This amusement, I must intimate, was a favourite one [Pg 351]with all on board, not omitting even Jacko; and whenever the yacht became land-locked, I could always hear the distinguishing order,

When I got back on board, R—— and P—— were keeping themselves entertained by shooting at all the empty soda-water bottles [Pg 350] that the steward could find. The bottles were hung on an oar that was stuck upright in the taffrail at the back, and positioning themselves near the windlass, my two companions set up a range of about forty or fifty feet along the deck. Every now and then, a grampus would catch their attention; and each time the fish surfaced, they either hit it or tried to hit it with a bullet aimed at its large dorsal fin. Most of the time was spent this way, only interrupted by rowing around in the gig and looking for wild ducks among the rocks. But as we sailed deeper into the Fiord, the landscape appeared increasingly lifeless, with just the scream of the eagle and the sound of rocks splitting and tumbling down the mountains breaking the silent monotony. Sometimes they fired the swivels just to hear the echoes, which, with their long reverberations, compensated well for the lard we used to grease the muzzles; a salute of nineteen or twenty shots, fired every fifteen or seventeen seconds, created an incredible racket; and with the high-pitched screams of the eagles, the chaos among the wild geese, and the falling rocks due to the strong winds, the powder and tow were well spent on the entertainment they provided. This activity, I should note, was a favorite among everyone on board, including Jacko; and whenever the yacht was set against the land, I could always hear the familiar command,

"Load the swivels!"

"Load the swivels!"

If it were not for the wild grandeur of the scenery, the sail among these Fiords would be most tedious, unchanging, as they are, by indications of human abode.

If it weren't for the wild beauty of the scenery, sailing among these fjords would be really dull, as they show no signs of human life.

On Friday morning, at twelve, we arrived at Leerdal; and considered ourselves most fortunate in taking only four days to drift from Bergen; for beyond the eddying air that breathed down the valleys, no other agency had propelled the vessel nearly one hundred miles.

On Friday morning, at twelve, we arrived at Leerdal and felt very lucky to have taken just four days to float from Bergen. Aside from the swirling air flowing down the valleys, nothing else had moved the boat almost one hundred miles.

Here we met a young Englishman who had travelled, for pleasure, over land from Christiania; and although he could not speak two Norwegian words, had contrived, by some unaccountable method, to supply all his wants without difficulty. He was on his way to Bergen; and giving him all the information he begged of us, we parted company, exchanging mutual desires to meet again. Finding this place most desolate, we left it, and the cutter was got under weigh the next morning, Saturday, for Auron, a small town not many leagues farther up the Sogne Fiord, and receiving from both our pilots the reputation of greater liveliness and importance. Early the following morning we came within sight of Auron, and went ashore before the anchor was dropped.

Here, we met a young Englishman who had traveled overland from Oslo for fun. Even though he couldn’t speak two words of Norwegian, he somehow managed to get everything he needed without any trouble. He was on his way to Bergen, and after giving him all the information he asked for, we said our goodbyes, hoping to meet again. Finding this place very dull, we decided to leave, and the next morning, Saturday, we got the cutter ready to head for Auron, a small town a short distance up the Sogne Fjord, which our pilots said was livelier and more significant. Early the next morning, we spotted Auron and went ashore before the anchor was dropped.

[Pg 352]Auron, like all the Norwegian villages that are found, at rare intervals, among the Fiords, is situated in a valley that rises gently from the shore of the Fiord, and hastens in a steep ascent till it aspires, south, east, and west, into high mountains, and inaccessible cliffs. This hamlet of Auron was the most pleasantly situated of any that we had seen; and the romantic beauty of the scenery was not more perfect than the unanimity that seemed to animate the whole village. The yellow ears of corn had invited men, women, children, and dogs to gather them for winter store; and dispersed over a large field that sloped along the valley to a considerable height up the mountains, this universal family, inclusive of the dogs, was at its work. The arrival, however, of three Englishmen with a retinue of some fifteen English tars, strange-looking fellows! at their backs, was a circumstance not likely to pass off in silence, or without due attention; and the intelligence sounded by the tongues of several ragged urchins, frolicking on the beach of the Fiord, was communicated to a lazy cur that set up a continuous howl, and his noisy throat spread the news to the diligent folk among the corn. In a short time we were naturally hemmed about by a throng of both sexes, human and canine, curious to learn the reason of our coming to Auron. The gestures of these people were so energetic, and their voices so low, that, had I not known [Pg 353]both by history and my own observation, the Norwegians were not cannibals, I should assuredly have been led away by the idea they were devising some scheme to murder and eat us. Their behaviour, though respectful, appeared so suspicious, that I was not at first without fear; but being the slightest made and thinnest of the three, and my two friends being ruddy and plump, I consoled myself by knowing that their previous immolation would be timely warning enough for me to make good my escape. While these useful reflections were putting me on my guard, a little, spare, grey-eyed, high-cheekboned, long-headed man, forced his way through the crowd, and tottering into the central space occupied by ourselves, took off his felt hat, and making a profound obeisance remained, with extreme courtesy, uncovered; but said nothing.

[Pg 352]Auron, like all the rare Norwegian villages scattered among the Fjords, is located in a valley that gently rises from the shore of the Fjord and steeply climbs to high mountains and inaccessible cliffs to the south, east, and west. This little village of Auron was the most pleasantly situated of any we had seen; the romantic beauty of the scenery matched perfectly with the unity that seemed to energize the whole village. The golden ears of corn had drawn men, women, children, and dogs together to gather supplies for winter; spread out across a large field that sloped up the valley and climbed the mountains, this extended family, including the dogs, was hard at work. However, the arrival of three Englishmen accompanied by about fifteen strange-looking English sailors was something that wouldn’t go unnoticed or ignored; word of their presence quickly reached a lazy dog who began howling, and his loud bark spread the news to the hardworking people among the corn. Before long, we found ourselves surrounded by a crowd of curious villagers, both men and women, along with more dogs, eager to know why we had come to Auron. The lively gestures of the crowd were so animated, and their voices so quiet, that if I didn’t already know from history and my own experience that Norwegians were not cannibals, I might have thought they were plotting to murder and eat us. Their behavior, though respectful, seemed so suspicious that I was initially a bit fearful; however, being the smallest and thinnest of the three, with my two friends being rosy and plump, I comforted myself with the thought that their earlier demise would serve as a timely warning for me to escape. While I was lost in these practical thoughts, a small, thin, gray-eyed man with high cheekbones and a long head pushed his way through the crowd, tottered into the space we occupied, removed his felt hat, and with a deep bow, remained very politely uncovered but said nothing.

King was ordered to ask the man what the nature of his visit was, and to tell him the object of ours. A few curt questions and answers made us understand, that he was the very person of all that lived in Auron whose acquaintance we most desired. The little man was lord of five hundred rein-deer, and sole proprietor of the salmon river of which we had come so far in search. The intelligent eyes of the Norwegian sparkled with satisfaction, when he replaced his hat on his head, and shook hands heartily with us all. The multitude who had given attentive ear to the dialogue between [Pg 354]King and their countryman, appeared pleased with the immediate familiarity that sprung up between the Norwegian and ourselves, and showed their cordial acquiescence by shaking us also by the hand. Hurrying through the villagers our new friend led us with triumphant strides and a vivacious air towards his cottage, and calling forth his wife, bade her salute us, which she did with that modest and simple demeanour common to her countrywomen. Gratified that he had so far conduced, as he imagined, to our comfort, the Norwegian would insist on our entering his house; and conducting us, by a steep and narrow stair, to an upper room, the windows of which overlooked a small garden filled with currant bushes, brought us, in due lapse of time, every dainty that his larder or the thriftiness of his wife could give. Although we were not hungry, we were too sensible of a hospitable man's feelings to give offence by saying we had just breakfasted, but attacking the different mountain delicacies, such as dried venison, and broiled capercaillie, we actually devoured all that had been placed before us, and did not decline a succession of native cheeses. These latter dainties were, however, rather too much perfumed and animated for me, and I left their entire consumption to the more fashionable taste of my companions. After this slight repast, we then told our host, definitively, the plans we wished to carry out by wending our way to Auron; and that he [Pg 355]would confer the greatest favour on us if he could secure us a day's sport on the mountains. Our host replied, that he was himself a proprietor of several hundred rein-deer; but his consent that we should disturb the peacefulness of the whole herd, by firing at a deer belonging to him, was not alone to be obtained. He informed us, that the rein-deer were the original cattle of the country; and the primitive usages adopted with regard to these animals by the old inhabitants of Norway were still persisted in by their descendants.

King was told to ask the man about the purpose of his visit and to explain why we were there. A few brief questions and answers revealed that he was exactly the person we were hoping to meet in Auron. The little man owned five hundred reindeer and was the sole owner of the salmon river we had traveled so far to find. The Norwegian's intelligent eyes sparkled with satisfaction as he put his hat back on and shook hands warmly with all of us. The crowd that had been listening attentively to the conversation between [Pg 354] King and their fellow countryman seemed pleased with the instant familiarity that developed between the Norwegian and us, demonstrating their approval by also shaking our hands. Our new friend hurried us through the village with a triumphant stride and lively demeanor toward his cottage, called for his wife, and asked her to greet us, which she did with the modest and simple grace typical of her countrywomen. Happy that he had helped with our comfort so far, the Norwegian insisted we come into his home. He led us up a steep and narrow staircase to an upper room with windows overlooking a small garden full of currant bushes and brought us, in due time, every treat that his pantry or his wife's thriftiness could provide. Although we weren’t hungry, we were too considerate of our host’s feelings to say that we had just had breakfast. Instead, we enjoyed the various mountain delicacies like dried venison and broiled capercaillie, and we ended up finishing everything placed before us, even indulging in several rounds of native cheeses. However, I found the cheeses a bit too strongly flavored and left their finishing to my more adventurous companions. After this light meal, we clearly explained to our host our plans for heading to Auron and that he [Pg 355]would do us a great favor by arranging a day's hunting in the mountains. Our host replied that he himself owned several hundred reindeer, but getting permission for us to hunt a deer from his herd wasn’t solely up to him. He informed us that the reindeer were the original livestock of the country, and the old customs regarding these animals that had been practiced by Norway's early inhabitants were still followed by their descendants.

"On the tops of these mountains," he said in Norwegian, and, I am afraid, I translate his beautiful language but indifferently, "many hundred rein-deer are wandering; and though a great many belong to me, I cannot give you leave to shoot one of them, without the consent of those by whom the remaining deer are owned; for all the deer herd together, and they are only known to belong to different persons by the marks made, at birth, on their skin. Mine have two slits on the right ear. These distinguishing marks, which separate my deer from those claimed by the neighbouring farmers, are so slight, that, they could not be ascertained at a distance; and in taking aim with your rifles, you might miss my deer and destroy the property of another man. You must be so placed, that, you may kill, indifferently, any deer that comes within shot; and for that purpose I must seek the assent of my friends. [Pg 356]If, however, you will go to the mountains with me to-day, you shall see the herds, and to-morrow I will send round to my friends; to-day it is hopeless to think of communicating with my neighbours, for they live so far;—the night would come before my task was finished."

"On the tops of these mountains," he said in Norwegian, and, I’m afraid, I translate his beautiful language but indifferently, "many hundreds of reindeer are wandering; and even though a lot of them belong to me, I can’t let you shoot one without getting permission from the others who own the remaining deer. All the deer herd together, and the only way to tell which ones belong to different people is by the marks made on their skin at birth. Mine have two slits in the right ear. These distinguishing marks, which separate my deer from those owned by the neighboring farmers, are so slight that they couldn’t be seen from a distance; and if you aim with your rifles, you might hit mine and end up destroying someone else's property. You need to be in a position where you can shoot any deer that comes within range; for that reason, I need to get approval from my friends. [Pg 356]However, if you come to the mountains with me today, you'll get to see the herds, and tomorrow I’ll ask my friends for their agreement; today it’s pointless to think about contacting my neighbors since they’re so far away—the night would fall before I finished my task."

We hesitated for some time whether we should undergo the fatigue of travelling over such declivitous mountains without any palpable reward.

We paused for a while, unsure if we should endure the strain of traveling over such steep mountains without any clear payoff.

"You hesitate," the Norwegian observed, smiling; "but you will not be sorry when you stand up there."

"You hesitate," the Norwegian noted, smiling; "but you won't regret it when you get up there."

And he pointed to the high peaks of the mountains that soared half-way up to the clear, blue firmament.

And he pointed to the tall mountain peaks that reached halfway up to the clear, blue sky.

"Let us not go unarmed," he continued, "for there are wolves and bears; and the nightly destruction of our flocks gives us need of men who love the chase like you. I, myself, will bear you company. Come, let us go."

"Let’s not go without weapons," he continued, "because there are wolves and bears out there; and the nightly attacks on our flocks show we need hunters like you. I’ll join you. Come on, let’s go."

The intimation that bears and wolves congregated on the level lands above was quite sufficient to decide our wavering mood; and ordering the crew to return with the gig to the yacht, and bring our rifles, we wiled away the intermediate time by sitting at a window that opened upon the waters of the Fiord, and afforded us a splendid view of the limitless range of mountains on the opposite shore, called the Reenfjeld.

The hint that bears and wolves gathered on the flat land above was enough to settle our uncertain feelings; so we instructed the crew to take the boat back to the yacht and bring our rifles. In the meantime, we passed the time sitting by a window that opened to the waters of the Fiord, giving us a beautiful view of the vast range of mountains on the other side, known as the Reenfjeld.

[Pg 357]The morning was sometimes bright and clear, and sometimes the sky was dimmed by large, dark, solid masses of clouds. It was very beautiful to see the mountains glittering with their white summits in the strong sunlight, while their bases were blackened with a shower of rain. These showers were partial, and all things around so still, that we could hear the rain drops pattering among the leaves of the trees that grew on the sides of the mountains two miles from the spot where we sat rejoicing in the warmth and cheerfulness of a summer's sun.

[Pg 357]The morning was sometimes bright and clear, and other times the sky was covered by large, dark, solid clouds. It was stunning to see the mountains sparkling with their white peaks in the bright sunlight, while their bases were darkened by a passing rain shower. These showers were scattered, and everything around was so peaceful that we could hear the raindrops tapping on the leaves of the trees that grew on the sides of the mountains two miles from where we sat, enjoying the warmth and cheerfulness of a summer sun.

At eleven o'clock the boat returned with rifles, and powder enough to blow up the village of Auron. Our host, who had disappeared for some little time, now came back decked out like a chamois-hunter. His hat had been exchanged for a red cap that fitted exactly to his skull, and a velvet jacket buttoned up to his throat, defined a tolerable expanse of chest. Across his back, from the right shoulder towards the left heel, his trusty gun was slung, muzzle downwards. A leathern belt went entirely round his waist, and pressing a brace of horse-pistols and a wonderfully large knife to his left hip-bone, was clasped in front with an embossed silver buckle. A red handkerchief, spotted white, hung by a knowing loop from the right arm, contained provender and a flask of liquor for the inward man. This last piece of accoutrement had the [Pg 358]evident impress of a woman's clear-sightedness; for while our friend fortified the outward walls of his person with guns, pistols, and knives, his wife, knowing how useless all these preparations were without suitable attention to the repletion of the cisterns and stores of the citadel, had suggested, with affectionate devotion no doubt, this trifling bundle as being necessary to the conquest of present labour and future danger. The very knot bore the combined neatness and strength of female ingenuity, and its complication looked endless as conjugal love.

At eleven o'clock, the boat returned with rifles and enough gunpowder to blow up the village of Auron. Our host, who had vanished for a little while, came back dressed like a chamois hunter. He had swapped his hat for a snug red cap, and a velvet jacket buttoned up to his throat showed off a decent amount of chest. His trusty gun was slung across his back, from his right shoulder to his left hip, with the muzzle pointing down. A leather belt wrapped completely around his waist, holding a couple of horse pistols and a surprisingly large knife at his left hip, all held closed in front with an embossed silver buckle. A red handkerchief with white spots hung from his right arm, containing snacks and a flask of liquor for sustenance. This last piece of gear clearly showed the practical wisdom of a woman; while our friend armed himself to the teeth with guns, pistols, and knives, his wife, understanding how ineffective all these preparations were without making sure the food supplies and resources were topped off, had kindly suggested this small bundle as essential for tackling present challenges and future threats. The very knot displayed a mix of neatness and strength that only female ingenuity can bring, and it seemed to twist endlessly like conjugal love.

The Norwegian, our three selves, and King, formed the whole party. Our ascent of the mountain, I need scarcely say, put the sinews of our thighs to a severe test; and the higher we mounted, the more frequent were the expressions of fatigue. When we had clambered a quarter of the way, we came suddenly upon two sheds built of wood, and appropriated to the use of a little girl and half a hundred pigs. I do not know whether the swine squeaked their surprise more at seeing us, than the cheerless child looked it. King, who had been ailing occasionally for some days, now fell to the rear, and said, that, he was incompetent to proceed any farther, and the permission to descend, which he solicited, was granted.

The Norwegian, our three selves, and King made up the entire group. Our climb up the mountain, I hardly need to mention, really tested the strength of our thighs; and the higher we went, the more often we expressed our fatigue. When we had climbed about a quarter of the way, we unexpectedly stumbled upon two wooden sheds, intended for a little girl and about fifty pigs. I can't tell if the pigs were more surprised to see us than the lonely child appeared. King, who had been feeling unwell for the past few days, fell behind and said he couldn't go any further, so we granted his request to turn back.

All larger vegetation now began gradually to disappear, and though I had hardly marked the trees dwindling from the cherry to the [Pg 359]filbert, and then to long tufts of grass, the bare rocks strewed over an endless tract of gravel made me stop and look about. When I cast my eyes above, the mountains still towered half a mile higher, and gazing downwards I could see the different kinds of trees and shrubs changing in size and colour of their foliage, as the space between me and the low lands increased. I do not remember that I had ever exceeded in elevation the point to which I had now risen; and perhaps the appearance of the valleys, the water, and habitations of men might have been more novel than to persons who are accustomed to crawl to the tops of mountains. I must confess I remained perfectly lost in thought for some minutes; nor did I ever feel, or could imagine so distinctly, how the stupendous and neglected works of creation are blended with the truest beauty; for, seen from the very mountains on which I stood, so rough, so barren, so bleak, the same rugged, straggling rocks, scattered over the opposite mountain, seemed soft as velvet and more delicate than the finished lines of a miniature.

All the larger vegetation gradually started to disappear, and even though I barely noticed the trees shrinking from cherry to the [Pg 359]filbert, and then to long patches of grass, the bare rocks scattered across an endless stretch of gravel made me stop and look around. When I looked up, the mountains still rose half a mile higher, and when I looked down, I could see the different types of trees and shrubs changing in size and color as the distance between me and the lowlands grew. I can't recall ever being at a higher elevation than where I was now; perhaps the view of the valleys, water, and human settlements might have been more striking to those who were used to climbing mountains. I must admit I was completely lost in thought for a few minutes; I had never felt, nor could I imagine so clearly, how the incredible and untouched works of nature are intertwined with true beauty; for, from the very mountains I stood on, so rough, so barren, so bleak, the same rugged, scattered rocks on the opposite mountain seemed soft as velvet and more delicate than the refined lines of a miniature.

Beneath the dark, blue surface of the Fiord I could discover shoals and rocks for which the mariner had sought in vain, and for many miles along the shore the shelving land showed, with a faint yellow tinge, the distance it stretched under the water that was otherwise of a deep azure shade. When from the deeply-dyed cerulean water, the valley [Pg 360]with its different green colours of tree and grass, and the red tints of the atmosphere that rested round the sides of the remoter mountains, I lifted my eyes to the fields of snow that extended, to an incalculable extent, over the flat summit of the Reenfjeld, the contrast was so forcible, that while I gazed my very soul seemed to bound with delight it had discovered Sublimity was something material, and not an ideal torture.

Beneath the dark blue surface of the fjord, I could see shoals and rocks that sailors had searched for in vain. For miles along the shore, the sloping land appeared with a faint yellow tint, showing how far it stretched under the deep azure water. When I looked up from the deep cerulean water to the valley [Pg 360] with its various shades of green from trees and grass, and the red hues in the atmosphere surrounding the distant mountains, I couldn’t help but be struck by the view. My gaze then lifted to the fields of snow that stretched endlessly over the flat summit of the Reenfjeld. The contrast was so striking that while I stared, my very soul seemed to leap with joy, realizing that Sublimity was something real, not just an ideal torment.

"Hollo! Bill, keep moving," was shouted in a loud voice from some rocks above my head, and seriously interfered with any further contemplation.

"Hollo! Bill, keep moving," yelled a loud voice from some rocks above me, completely disrupting any further thought.

"Here's a fox," continued the same voice, sustaining its sharp, resonant tone; "come, and smell him!"

"Here's a fox," the same voice continued, maintaining its sharp, loud tone; "come, and smell him!"

Though fond of giving reins to the imagination, I am as matter of fact as most people when necessity requires it; nor do I yield to any man the estimation at which I hold the odorous Reynard. Tucking my feet well into the shingly mountain side, and bringing the point of equilibrium, as nearly as possible, to an angle of twenty-five degrees, I scrambled towards R——, and P——, and the Norwegian. They were all three on their knees peering into a hole that Reynard had intended should be round; but having forgotten, or never heard of Euclid, had dug it frightfully oblong. It must have hurt his back to go in and out. We shouted, and rummaged the premises very [Pg 361]disgracefully, and if Reynard were at home, I need not state the opinion I entertain of his courage; for apathetic as I am, no one, not Goliath himself, should have ransacked my house with the impunity we poked long sticks, and threw acute-sided stones into the recesses of the Fox's residence. I ventured to assure my companions that Reynard was abroad, and accepting my hint, they partially jammed up the mouth of the cave with the fragments of an old hat, and rising from their knees, left Reynard to find out who had meddled with his lodging.

Though I love letting my imagination run wild, I can be as practical as anyone else when needed; I definitely don’t underestimate the crafty Fox. Tucking my feet into the rocky mountainside and adjusting my balance to about twenty-five degrees, I climbed toward R——, P——, and the Norwegian. They were all on their knees, peering into a hole that Reynard had meant to make round, but instead had dug into a horribly oblong shape, probably hurting his back in the process. We shouted and searched the area quite disgracefully, and if Reynard happened to be home, I wouldn’t need to express how I feel about his bravery; because as indifferent as I am, no one—not even Goliath—would’ve gotten away with rummaging through my house like we did with long sticks and sharp stones thrown into the Fox’s home. I confidently told my friends that Reynard was out, and taking my hint, they stuffed the entrance of the cave with bits of an old hat, then got up from their knees and left Reynard to figure out who had disturbed his place.

I have heard say, that mariners, returning home from India, may smell, for many leagues off the Island of Madagascar, the sweet odour of countless spices; but I must do this fox the fairness to state, that if he were exiled to the Island of Madagascar, those latitudes would soon excite in the minds of all keen-scented sailors the idea of an interesting expedition to discover the variation of smell.

I’ve heard that sailors coming home from India can smell the sweet scent of countless spices from many miles away near the Island of Madagascar. However, I have to be fair and say that if someone were exiled to the Island of Madagascar, the sailors who could catch a whiff would soon be inspired to embark on an interesting mission to explore the different smells.

Passing that portion of the mountain where the hardiest plants had ceased to grow, we arrived at those high regions abounding with the rein-deer moss, and struggling with the severity of the cold temperature the wild strawberry put forth its small, red fruit. The rein-deer moss being purely white, like hoar frost, the scarlet colour of the strawberry mingling thickly with it, conveyed pleasure to the eye, and a feeling of delicacy to the mind. Our path did not become less irksome now we had [Pg 362]left the gravel behind, for the moss yielded with its softness so much to the feet, that it sometimes covered our ankles; but panting with desire to ascend the supreme brow of the mountain, fatigue succumbed to the resuscitation of spiritual vigour.

Passing that part of the mountain where the toughest plants had stopped growing, we reached the high areas filled with reindeer moss. Despite the freezing temperatures, the wild strawberry was putting out its small, red fruit. The reindeer moss, pure white like frost, contrasted beautifully with the bright red of the strawberries, creating a pleasing sight that felt delicate to the mind. Our path didn’t get any easier now that we had [Pg 362] left the gravel behind. The soft moss yielded under our feet, sometimes covering our ankles. But driven by a desire to reach the peak of the mountain, our fatigue gave way to a rejuvenation of spirit.

Standing on a solitary patch of snow that spread over the highest point of the mountain we found ourselves on a level plain with the lofty chain of the Reenfjeld, separated from us by a gulf of fifteen miles, at the bottom of which flowed the Sogne Fiord diminished in its wide expanse to a river, and darkened to the sable dye of ebony by the intersecting shadows of numerous mountains. The general character of the Norwegian mountains being perfectly flat on the top, the distance seen where we stood was very great; and the table-land assumed more solemn grandeur, free as it almost was from glaciers, since, with livelier relief, the peaks that cleaved the air shone brilliantly with their snowy hoods; and over an infinite extent of country, diversifying no other verdure with that of the tawny moss, these peaks, rising numberlessly, one over the other, seemed like conical loaves of white sugar placed on an enormous sheet of brown paper.

Standing on a lonely patch of snow that covered the highest point of the mountain, we found ourselves on a flat area with the towering Reenfjeld range, which was fifteen miles away. At the bottom of the gulf flowed the Sogne Fjord, reduced to a river and darkened to a deep black by the overlapping shadows of many mountains. The generally flat tops of the Norwegian mountains allowed for a vast view from where we stood, and the plateau had a solemn grandeur, nearly free from glaciers. With more vivid contrasts, the peaks that pierced the sky shone brightly with their snowy caps. Stretching over a vast expanse of land, breaking the monotony of the tawny moss, these peaks rose up one after another, resembling conical loaves of white sugar placed on an enormous sheet of brown paper.

Taking up a handful of snow, we jestingly alluded to the occupation of our cockney friends at the same moment, and saw them, in fancy, tricked out with the Gallic finery of kid [Pg 363]gloves and nankeen trowsers, strutting through the crowded thoroughfares of Regent Street, or ambling in Rotten Row.

Taking a handful of snow, we jokingly referred to the work of our Cockney friends at the same time, and pictured them, in our minds, dressed in fancy French-style kid [Pg 363]gloves and light-colored pants, strutting through the busy streets of Regent Street, or strolling in Rotten Row.

"Yes, by George!" observed R——, who had been silently scraping the snow together, and levelling it with his foot again, "I remember the time when, about this hour of the day, and season of the year, then somewhat younger than I am now, I used to look at men who talked of anything else but balls, operas, and Hyde Park, as so many marvels of imbecility; but now their good sense and just estimation of life oppress me with the recollection of that lost portion of my own youth passed in all the puppyism of fashion."

"Yes, by George!" said R——, who had been quietly gathering the snow and smoothing it down with his foot again. "I remember a time when, around this hour of the day and season of the year, I was a bit younger than I am now, and I saw men who talked about anything other than balls, operas, and Hyde Park as complete fools. But now, their common sense and realistic view of life make me feel weighed down with the memory of that wasted part of my youth spent in all the silliness of fashion."

"Ay," I replied, "there is one consolation in growing old, we grow wiser in our wickedness."

"Ay," I replied, "there's one comfort in getting older: we become wiser in our mischief."

"Well, and if men are, de naturâ, depraved," continued R——, "and possess virtue and vice only in proportional masses to the size of the brain and body, they can surely exhibit a pound or two of wisdom to eighteen stone of folly; and if they must be asinine, may cover their actions with a little good sense."

"Well, if people are naturally flawed," continued R——, "and have virtue and vice only in relation to the size of their brain and body, they can definitely show a pound or two of wisdom alongside eighteen stone of foolishness; and if they have to act foolishly, they might as well balance it out with a little common sense."

"They may, truly," I said; "but remember your head has not grown a particle larger since the Spring of 1844, nor your body less; but had the same idea of Ethics been then presented to you, you would certainly not have seen its lucidity."

"They might, for sure," I said; "but keep in mind that your head hasn't gotten any bigger since the spring of 1844, nor has your body shrunk; if the same idea of Ethics had been presented to you back then, you definitely wouldn't have been able to see how clear it is."

R—— was about to retort, and I do not [Pg 364]know how much longer we should have endangered the moral existence of the young dandies at home, had not P——, already at a distance from us, called out with the impatience of a huntsman,

R—— was ready to respond, and I don't [Pg 364]know how much longer we would have put the moral integrity of the young dandies at home at risk, if P——, already a ways away from us, hadn't called out impatiently like a hunter,

"Are you fellows coming on to-day?"

"Are you all coming today?"

In a few seconds we overtook P—— and the Norwegian, and they proposed that we should descend till we came to a valley, which the Norwegian pointed out at a considerable way beneath us, and there it was thought we should find a herd of deer. Remaining stationary while we spoke, a space of fifty miles, partly mountain, and partly valley, lay above and below us, and glancing the eye from end to end of this immense tract, not a hut of any kind could be seen; but, faintly, the tinkling of bells attached to the necks of sheep, or cattle, could be heard, and that only when the feeble puffs of wind blew from a certain direction. We wandered for many miles over the desolate mountains, and found no signs by which we might be guided to the animals that we sought. Hour after hour elapsed, and the day began to wane; but no tracks, not even the print of their hooves on the muddy banks of the small lakes that abounded everywhere, pointed the path the deer had taken. We reached, at last, towards sunset, a valley that, virent by the multitude and variety of its trees, changed the dreary similarity pervading all things; and a few sheep, that bleated loudly [Pg 365]when they saw us, led us to hope we had come again within the line of animal existence. The Norwegian, our guide, however, said that no one lived in this valley, but in an adjoining vale, he thought, some cowherds dwelt.

In a few seconds, we passed P—— and the Norwegian, and they suggested that we go down to a valley, which the Norwegian pointed out far below us. There, it was believed we would find a herd of deer. As we stopped to talk, we looked over a stretch of fifty miles, part mountains and part valleys, and from one end to the other of this vast area, not a single hut was in sight; however, we could faintly hear the tinkling of bells on the necks of sheep or cattle, but only when the weak gusts of wind blew from a specific direction. We roamed for many miles over the barren mountains, finding no signs to guide us to the animals we were after. Hours passed, and as the day started to fade, we still found no tracks, not even the prints of their hooves in the muddy banks of the numerous small lakes around us, showing where the deer had gone. Finally, as the sun was setting, we reached a valley that, lush with the abundance and variety of its trees, broke the monotonous bleakness surrounding us. A few sheep, bleating loudly [Pg 365] when they spotted us, made us hope that we had once again entered the territory of animal life. However, the Norwegian, our guide, said that no one lived in this valley, but he believed some cowherds resided in a nearby vale.

"What are all these sheep here for?" I asked.

"What are all these sheep doing here?" I asked.

"They are driven here," the man replied, "for food; since in the lower lands the grass is parched by heat."

"They come here," the man replied, "for food; because in the lower lands the grass is dried out from the heat."

"Who takes care of them, then?" again I asked.

"Who takes care of them, then?" I asked again.

"No one," answered the guide. "They will remain among these mountains all the summer; and when the winter returns, they will be taken home, and folded at Auron."

"No one," the guide replied. "They'll stay in these mountains all summer, and when winter comes back, they'll be taken home and housed at Auron."

While the Norwegian was still addressing these sentences to me, we had crossed the rivulet that gurgled through the valley, and commenced our ascending zigzag way. The skins and bones of sheep destroyed by the wolves that infest these mountains were scattered on every hand, and the foot-marks of these furious brutes and bears were plainly distinguishable on those parts of the soil moistened by the snow-water, and not covered with moss. Our flagging spirits were roused when we remembered that it might so chance we fell in with one of these animals; but our guide did not add encouragement to our ardour, and told us how the improbability of encountering wolves was strong, since they [Pg 366]never left their hiding-places in the forests until night.

While the Norwegian was still talking to me, we crossed the small stream that flowed through the valley and began our steep, zigzag path upward. The remains of sheep killed by the wolves that roam these mountains were scattered around us, and the tracks of these fierce animals and bears were clearly visible on the parts of the ground that were wet with melted snow and not covered in moss. Our spirits lifted a bit when we thought we might encounter one of these creatures; however, our guide didn’t share our excitement and explained that the chances of seeing wolves were slim since they [Pg 366]never left their hiding spots in the forests until nightfall.

"At any rate," he said, "we shall, a long while hear, before we see, them; for they howl like devils. I assure you, you may be bold before they arrive; but I have known many a courageous man grow timid when he has heard the moaning, melancholy signal of their approach. Besides, I suppose you know, wolves never go forth to feed singly; but issue, prepared for mischief, from the caverns and glens in herds of fourteen or twenty."

"Anyway," he said, "we'll hear them long before we see them; they howl like demons. I promise you can be brave until they get here, but I've seen plenty of courageous men get scared when they hear the sad, haunting sound of their approach. Also, I assume you know that wolves never hunt alone; they come out in groups of fourteen or twenty, ready for trouble, from the caves and valleys."

"Yes," observed either R—— or P——, "but we are a fair match for twenty wolves."

"Yeah," noted either R—— or P——, "but we can handle twenty wolves just fine."

"I am not so sure of that," answered the Norwegian, smiling with great good humour. "Wolves in this country are not afraid of a man. No, sir, they will attack two, or three men, and will overcome them. Many a one has come to these mountains, and never left them again."

"I’m not so sure about that,” replied the Norwegian, smiling widely. “Wolves in this country aren’t scared of a man. Nope, they’ll go after two or three men and can take them down. A lot of people have come to these mountains and never returned.”

This is the kind of news that brave men like to hear; and as the countenances of R—— and P—— did not blanch, but rather beamed with gratification, as a ray of light will flash through divided dark clouds, I am quite at liberty to state that they are gallant fellows; and I could almost say it would take a great many more wolves than the Norwegian nation can count to intimidate either of them. But since I have not yet commenced the historical physiology of their courageous hearts, I will [Pg 367]not mar what I am arranging, methodically, in my head, by slight allusions, or apologues that are ill wrought. The Norwegian, by making these fearful intimations, had, doubtless, some object in view; and sharing with a dutiful spouse the blessings of domestic life, desired not to risk the protection of Heaven in a conflict with predacious animals. But this is mere supposition; for the Norwegian people are valiant in soul, as they are indefatigable in body, warm and friendly of heart; yet I may conjecture; for our guide either spoke fervently, having his own interest in sight, or felt deeply for our preservation, which, he fancied, we would throw away with mad boldness should an opportunity occur. On this occasion there was no visible distinction between selfishness and philanthropy, or a disinterested will to fight, or run with us.

This is the kind of news that brave guys like to hear; and since the faces of R—— and P—— didn’t turn pale but instead lit up with satisfaction, like sunlight breaking through dark clouds, I can confidently say they are courageous friends. I could almost say it would take a lot more wolves than the entire Norwegian nation could count to scare either of them. But since I haven’t yet started the detailed story of their brave hearts, I won’t mess up what I'm organizing in my mind with small hints or poorly crafted tales. The Norwegian, by making these scary comments, probably had some specific purpose; and wanting to share the blessings of home life with a devoted spouse, he didn’t want to risk divine protection in a fight with dangerous animals. But that's just speculation; the Norwegian people are brave in spirit, as they are tireless in body, warm and friendly at heart. Still, I can guess; either our guide spoke passionately with his own interests in mind, or he truly cared for our safety, which he thought we might recklessly jeopardize if given the chance. In this case, there was no clear difference between selfishness and goodwill, or a lack of desire to either fight or run with us.

On the top of the hill we rested, and looked down on the other valley where we hoped to find some cottages; for, whatever the Norwegian might have done to recruit his strength, we had neither eaten nor drank since we left Auron. The hill on which we stopped was without vegetation of any sort, except moss; but trees in great abundance grew in the valley; and one small hut, partially concealed by three pines, showed its dun roof of fir branches lying quietly below, like a dove in its nest; and hard by the door, down in the centre of the valley enlivened and refreshed [Pg 368]as the meadows we had left behind, ran a brook that foamed and sought its difficult way with noisy tongue. Thirsty and hungry we wandered on towards the hut; but when we came near to it, we found no other living animals but pigs and sheep likely to hold communion with us. Our guide, conversant with the customs of his country, thought that the cottagers might be slumbering, and tapped loudly with his fist and the butt of his pistol; but no answer was returned. On the ground, near the sill, had fallen an instrument, similar in outward form to the classic Cornucopiæ, about five feet in length, and which appeared to be cut from some tree and made hollow by the pith being scooped out. The Norwegian taking it from the ground and applying the smaller end to his mouth, blew in it, and produced a blast that rang through the valley from one extremity to the other, and rattled among the rocks of the mountains. He bade us be still and listen; and the faint, distant, long-sustained cry of a human voice gave a responsive halloo; and here and there, from the farthest recesses of the fir forests, the lowing of cattle could be perceived indistinctly. All was soon again as silent as the scene was solitary. To our inquiries for what purpose this curious trumpet was intended, the Norwegian made reply:——

At the top of the hill we took a break and looked down at the other valley, hoping to find some cottages; because, while the Norwegian might have found a way to recharge, we hadn’t eaten or drank anything since leaving Auron. The hill we paused on was bare except for moss, but the valley below was full of trees; and there was a small hut, partly hidden by three pines, showing its dull roof made of fir branches, resting quietly below like a dove in its nest. Nearby, at the center of the valley, a brook ran lively and refreshed [Pg 368], bubbling and making its noisy way along. Thirsty and hungry, we moved toward the hut; but when we got close, the only animals around were pigs and sheep, which weren’t much company. Our guide, familiar with local customs, figured the cottagers might be sleeping, so he knocked loudly with his fist and the back of his pistol; but no one answered. On the ground by the door, we found an object that looked like a classic Cornucopia, about five feet long, made from a tree with the pith scooped out to make it hollow. The Norwegian picked it up, put the smaller end to his mouth, and blew into it, creating a blast that echoed through the valley from one end to the other, bouncing off the rocky mountains. He told us to be quiet and listen; we could faintly hear a distant, prolonged human voice responding with a call; and here and there, from the deepest parts of the fir forests, we could make out the lowing of cattle. Soon everything returned to the stillness of the solitary scene. When we asked what this strange trumpet was for, the Norwegian answered:——

"This is an instrument used by shepherds to call their flocks together; and I have only [Pg 369]to persist in blowing it to collect all the cows, that graze in these mountains, about me. Did you not hear the cattle this minute? The wolves also, and bears, and other predatory animals, do not like its note; and when they hear it, will crouch to the ground and hide themselves."

"This is a tool used by shepherds to gather their flocks; and I just have to [Pg 369] keep blowing it to round up all the cows that are grazing in these mountains. Did you not hear the cattle just now? The wolves, bears, and other predators also dislike its sound; when they hear it, they hunker down and hide."

Issuing from the firs that formed a forest at the lower part of the valley, two girls hurried towards us; and running and walking by turns, they made haste to the cottage near which we stood.

Emerging from the fir trees that created a forest at the bottom of the valley, two girls rushed toward us; alternating between running and walking, they hurried to the cottage where we were standing.

"Who lives here?" I said, pointing to the miserable building.

"Who lives here?" I asked, pointing at the rundown building.

"Those two girls," answered the Norwegian.

"Those two girls," replied the Norwegian.

"Alone?" I asked.

"By yourself?" I asked.

"Yes, alone," replied the guide; "but they will go away when the winter comes, for then the cattle are removed. It is only the months of summer that they pass up here, to take care of these pigs, and sheep, and cows."

"Yeah, alone," the guide answered. "But they'll leave when winter comes, because that's when the cattle are taken away. They only stay up here during the summer months to look after these pigs, sheep, and cows."

"Only the months of summer," I thought; but by this time the two girls had reached the cottage; and I could not help regarding them with some little interest. The eldest was not more than eighteen, the youngest four years less; and they possessed the simplicity and shyness of manner such children of the mountain might be supposed naturally to imbibe from the mode of life they led, and the desolation which surrounded them. They wore [Pg 370]no covering to the feet or head, and their arms and shoulders were equally bare; and though naturally of a very fair complexion, their faces had, by constant exposure to the sun, been tanned; but, lo! when they smiled, their coral lips, curved like the bow that shot the arrow through the heart of Psyche, parted to show a row of teeth as smooth and pure as the snows of Siggen.

"Only the summer months," I thought; but by this time the two girls had reached the cottage, and I couldn't help but look at them with some interest. The oldest was about eighteen, and the youngest was four years younger; they had the simplicity and shyness you might expect from mountain children, shaped by the lifestyle they lived and the desolation around them. They wore [Pg 370]no shoes or head coverings, and their arms and shoulders were bare as well. Though they naturally had very fair skin, their faces had been tanned from constant sun exposure; but, when they smiled, their coral lips, reminiscent of the bow that shot the arrow through the heart of Psyche, parted to reveal a row of teeth as smooth and pure as the snow of Siggen.

The pigs, that were lately digging up the soil by hundreds, trotted towards these girls yet breathing heavily from the speed with which they had run, and looking up in their faces, grunted and squeaked without any apparent cause; and some of these swine told their wants, or affection, with such painful shrillness, that it was almost impossible to make ourselves heard.

The pigs, which had just been rooting around in the dirt in large numbers, hurried over to these girls, still panting from their fast run. They looked up at their faces, grunted, and squeaked for no clear reason; some of these pigs expressed their needs or affection with such loud shrieks that it was nearly impossible for us to hear ourselves.

Opening the cottage door with a wooden key, the eldest girl led us into a small room appropriated as a dairy, in which were eight or ten large basins of wood filled with milk, in the various gradations of decomposition from its natural sweet state to that of acidity, until it took the solidity of cream cheese. I do not know that the Norwegians have any precise system of making cheese by churning; but from what I saw, and I am now only speaking of the poorer peasantry, I believe that the milk, from the moment that it is drawn from the cow is placed in these deal basins, whence the cream is skimmed and committed to a [Pg 371]separate bowl, where it remains till it becomes sour, and after resting undisturbed for a few days, thickens to a vile firm substance, the natives call cheese. The Norwegians do not drink fresh milk, but use it, even for household purposes, when quite sour; and plentiful as milk was, we found much difficulty in procuring any, the most trifling quantity, fit for our English tastes. We were so fortunate as to find one basin that contained some fresh milk, of which we drank plentifully; but our guide swallowed quart after quart of all the acid stuff he could smell out; for he would not taste before he had applied his nose to each basin.

Opening the cottage door with a wooden key, the oldest girl led us into a small room that was used as a dairy. Inside, there were eight or ten large wooden basins filled with milk, in various stages of spoilage from its naturally sweet state to becoming acidic, until it turned into the solidity of cream cheese. I’m not sure if the Norwegians have a specific method for making cheese by churning, but from what I saw—specifically among the poorer farmers—I believe that once the milk is drawn from the cow, it is placed in these wooden basins. The cream is skimmed off and put into a separate bowl, where it stays until it turns sour. After resting undisturbed for a few days, it thickens into an unpleasant solid substance that the locals call cheese. The Norwegians don’t drink fresh milk; they only use it, even for household purposes, when it’s quite sour. Even though milk was plentiful, we had a hard time finding even a small amount that suited our English tastes. We were lucky enough to find one basin that had some fresh milk, which we drank a lot of; meanwhile, our guide gulped down quart after quart of all the acidic milk he could find, refusing to taste it until he had sniffed each basin first.

There were only two apartments in this cottage, and both without floors, or windows. In one corner of the dairy, which was not eight feet square, a few planks of fir formed a bedstead over which were tumbled one or two torn and dirty blankets. Three large stones, arranged angularly on the dank earth, answered the purpose of a grate, for half burned sticks and cinders were scattered about; and immediately over head, a large hole in the roof admitted the rain and cold wind, while it might, and was intended to let out the smoke. Poverty and discomfort seemed to wrestle with each other which should torment these two girls the most. And yet they looked glad and contented, and said they were so, and laughed heartily at our discomposure when we went [Pg 372]from pan to pan, and found the milk sour, or half hardened to a jelly. They could hardly be persuaded to receive any compensation for the milk we and the Norwegian had consumed; and both of these girls shook hands with us, and thanked us continually in grateful idioms for sixteen skillings, a sum of money worth five pence sterling. They answered to the solicitous questions of our guide, that a herd of three hundred rein-deer had passed through the valley two days before, and believed they had gone towards a large lake ten miles to the eastward.

There were only two apartments in this cottage, and both lacked floors and windows. In one corner of the dairy, which was less than eight feet square, a few planks of fir created a bedframe with one or two torn and dirty blankets piled on top. Three large stones, arranged at angles on the damp earth, served as a fireplace, with half-burned sticks and cinders scattered around; above it, a large hole in the roof let in the rain and cold wind, while also letting out the smoke. Poverty and discomfort seemed to compete to see which could afflict these two girls more. Yet they appeared happy and content, claiming they were, and they laughed joyfully at our discomfort when we moved from pan to pan, discovering the milk was sour or half-congealed to a jelly. They could barely be convinced to accept any payment for the milk we and the Norwegian had consumed, and both girls shook our hands, continually thanking us in heartfelt phrases for sixteen skillings, a sum worth five pence sterling. When our guide asked them about their situation, they replied that a herd of three hundred reindeer had passed through the valley two days earlier and believed they had headed toward a large lake ten miles to the east.

The sun had now set, and no place of rest could be found among these mountains, unless we chose to risk the danger of sleeping in the open air under some tree. It was, therefore, necessary to delay as little as possible, and we took leave of the two peasant girls. They came forward with the most unaffected simplicity, and shaking us again by the hand, wished us a pleasant journey. It seemed almost heartless to leave two girls, so young and unprotected, in such a wilderness, many miles from any human dwelling, surrounded everywhere by wolves and bears; and the smile of perfect contentment and cheerful resignation to the dreary lot attributed to them, made me feel the more sensibly for their isolated condition. But it is the condition allotted to women by the usages of Norway; and while the young men remain in the low lands to [Pg 373]cultivate the soil and gather the corn, the females are banished to the mountains to tend the flocks. Sometimes, among the most distant and unfrequented mountains, a hut, like this, may be met with, inhabited by a single girl; and holding no communication with her fellow creatures she drags on the bright time of summer in the profoundest solitude, quite regardless, apparently, of the bereavement of all social intercourse, or of the horrible death that may overtake her by the hunger and ferocity of wild beasts.

The sun had set, and we couldn't find anywhere to rest in these mountains, unless we wanted to risk sleeping outside under a tree. So, it was important to delay as little as possible, and we said goodbye to the two peasant girls. They approached us with genuine simplicity and shook our hands again, wishing us a pleasant journey. It almost felt cruel to leave two young girls, unprotected, in such a remote place, many miles from any human settlement, surrounded by wolves and bears. Their smiles of contentment and cheerful acceptance of their lonely situation made me feel even more for their isolated condition. But this is the role assigned to women by the customs of Norway; while the young men stay in the lowlands to cultivate the land and harvest the crops, the women are sent to the mountains to tend the sheep. Sometimes, in the most remote and least traveled mountain areas, you might find a hut like this one, inhabited by a single girl; she lives in complete solitude during the long summer, seemingly indifferent to the loss of all social interaction or the terrible fate that could befall her from the hunger and ferocity of wild animals.

We now travelled with more briskness, not only lured by the chance of coming up with the herd of rein-deer, but pursued by the moss-grown phantom of a mountain couch. An endless forest of firs lay on our right hand, and the nearer we approached it, the more clearly we could hear the howl of wolves; and whenever we reached an elevated mound of ground we thought to see a troop of them galloping forth to their nightly depredations. Mountainous ridge after ridge we climbed, but along the wide expanse our eyes could alight on no lake; and only through a chasm, far away between two mountains, the lead-coloured water of the Sogne Fiord momentarily deceived the sight. The guide kept his place in front and led the way, bounding from valley to mountain-top like a spirit of Indian rubber; and unwearied in his tongue as he seemed in body, he continued shouting, cheerily, in a strange, drawling chant,

We now traveled with more energy, not just drawn by the chance of catching up with the herd of reindeer but also chased by the moss-covered ghost of a mountain cabin. An endless forest of fir trees spread out to our right, and the closer we got to it, the more distinctly we could hear the howls of wolves; and whenever we reached a raised patch of ground, we expected to see a pack of them rushing out for their nightly hunts. We climbed ridge after ridge, but across the wide expanse, we could spot no lake; only through a gap far away between two mountains did the lead-colored water of the Sogne Fjord briefly trick our eyes. The guide stayed at the front and led the way, bouncing from valley to mountain top like a rubber ball; and just as tireless in his speech as he was in his movements, he kept shouting cheerfully in a strange, drawn-out chant.

"Salt, h-o-o-o! salt, h-o-o-o! salt, h-o-o-o!"

"Salt, h-o-o-o! salt, h-o-o-o! salt, h-o-o-o!"

"Salt" in the Norwegian language signifies salt, as it does in ours; but the vowel has a soft pronunciation. The rein-deer are very fond of salt, and the wildest of them will follow a person, who holds some salt in his hand, for miles together. To put salt on a bird's tail, and catch it, may be an English piece of jocularity; but the Norwegian would be puzzled to think why we should attach a joke to such an act; and to prove to an Englishman the inaptitude of the proverb, the Norseman will go forth with his handful of salt, and take, not his covey of sparrows, for his country has none; but a fine fat buck.

"Salt" in Norwegian means salt, just like it does in English; however, the vowel is pronounced softer. Reindeer really love salt, and even the wildest ones will follow a person holding some salt in their hand for miles. The phrase "to put salt on a bird's tail and catch it" might be a humorous English saying, but a Norwegian would be confused about why we find it funny; to show an Englishman the inappropriateness of the proverb, a Norwegian will go out with a handful of salt and catch not a bunch of sparrows—since there aren't any in his country—but a nice, plump buck.

As the evening advanced, the light wind, that had made the heat of the day tolerable, now lulled; but mute as the long blades of grass were, the breath of night, when it moved the hair gently from our brows to cool our faces, whispered in our ears the warning sound of the tramp and unceasing howl of a hundred wolves. Regardless of all danger, be it far or near, the Norwegian still claimed the van, and dipped his hand with frequency in the little bag of salt that dangled at his girdle, chanting as he went,

As the evening wore on, the light wind that had made the heat of the day bearable began to calm down; yet, despite the silent long blades of grass, the night air brushed gently against our faces, cooling us as it whispered in our ears the ominous sound of a hundred wolves howling in the distance. Undeterred by any danger, whether it was close or far away, the Norwegian confidently led the way, repeatedly reaching into the little bag of salt hanging from his belt, singing as he walked,

"Salt, h-o-o-o! salt, h-o-o-o! salt, h-o-o-o!"

"Salt, h-o-o-o! salt, h-o-o-o! salt, h-o-o-o!"

The deer came not; though the lonely hills took up the words, and passed them from vale to vale.

The deer didn’t come; however, the lonely hills echoed the words and carried them from valley to valley.

"We shall never reach home to-night," said [Pg 375]R—— to me, as we toiled up the side of the hill overgrown with moss.

"We're never going to make it home tonight," said [Pg 375]R—— to me, as we struggled up the moss-covered hill.

"I am afraid not," I answered; "and for my own comfort I don't care. If we made a fire we could sleep as safely up here as on board. However, let's consult when we get to the top."

"I’m afraid not," I replied; "and honestly, I don’t really care. If we made a fire, we could sleep just as safely up here as we would on the boat. Anyway, let’s discuss it when we reach the top."

"Yes; it takes the whole of one's breath," observed R——, "to scramble over this moss."

"Yeah, it really takes all your breath," R—— noted, "to climb over this moss."

Mounted to the top, we were not inclined to curtail our jaunt; for we saw a pool of water, one of the objects of our search, spread beneath us; and, what is an uncommon sight at 3000 feet above the level of the sea, its banks were covered with rushes. Opponent to us, on the extreme side, or eastern corner of this pool, the even surface of the mountain rose into a hill which, being higher than the ground where we stood, obstructed our view. The rein-deer had frequently resorted to this water to drink, for the mud of its diminutive shore was everywhere indented with their hooves. The Norwegian examined these marks with much minuteness; and when he had satisfied himself that they were the hoof-prints of the rein-deer, and not of the smaller cows of the country, he thrust his hand into the salt-bag that was still suspended from his left side, like a good-sized rook's nest, and vociferated,

Mounted at the top, we weren't ready to cut our adventure short; we spotted a pool of water, one of the things we were searching for, lying below us. It was unusual to see, especially at 3000 feet above sea level, but its banks were lined with rushes. Opposite us, in the far eastern corner of this pool, the flat surface of the mountain rose into a hill that was taller than where we were standing, blocking our view. The reindeer often came to this water to drink, as the mud along its small shore was marked with their hoofprints. The Norwegian examined these tracks closely, and once he was sure they were indeed reindeer prints and not from the smaller local cows, he reached into the salt bag hanging from his left side, which looked like a good-sized crow's nest, and shouted,

"Salt, h-o-o-o! salt, h-o-o-o! salt! salt!"

"Salt, h-o-o-o! salt, h-o-o-o! salt! salt!"

The monotony of his song was kept up for a quarter of an hour without any variation [Pg 376]either in the tones of his voice, or arrangement of the words; but, occasionally, when he looked on the ground, and was reminded of the cloven marks in the slough, his voice would swell to the passionate bellow of a war-whoop. His manner reminded me strongly of a bull, that by some mischance has lost the common herd; and as he gallops along the meadows, when he finds himself alone, will stop suddenly at times, and, placing his broad nostrils to the earth, sniff the grass with the absorption of a huge pump; then lifting his head loftily in the air, will lash his tail, and madly tossing his legs, roar till the country round is filled with the sounds of his anger.

The monotony of his song continued for about fifteen minutes without any changes [Pg 376]in the tone of his voice or the arrangement of the words; however, sometimes when he glanced at the ground and saw the hoof prints in the mud, his voice would rise to the passionate roar of a war cry. His demeanor strongly reminded me of a bull that, due to some misfortune, has strayed from the herd; and as it runs through the fields, when it finds itself alone, it will suddenly stop at times, place its broad nostrils to the ground, and sniff the grass with the intensity of a massive pump; then, raising its head high into the air, it will whip its tail and, in a wild frenzy, bellow until the whole area echoes with the sounds of its fury.

"Well, Sir," said the Norwegian, addressing me, "if we do not find the deer near this water, I fear we shall find none to-day. It is late; and they are gone to shelter in the forests for the night."

"Well, Sir," the Norwegian said to me, "if we don’t find the deer near this water, I’m afraid we won’t find any today. It’s late, and they’ve moved to shelter in the forests for the night."

The last four words had not yet fallen from his lips, when a doe, followed by her fawn, stood on the brow of the hill directly opposite to us; and halting for a moment, moved her head up and down, scenting the air. No sooner did the guide perceive the animal, than he tugged the salt-bag from his belt, and, holding it in his left hand, extended it at arm's length before him, creeping down the hillock on which we had clustered, exclaiming,

The last four words had barely escaped his lips when a doe, followed by her fawn, appeared on the top of the hill right in front of us. Pausing for a moment, she moved her head up and down, sniffing the air. As soon as the guide spotted the animal, he grabbed the salt-bag from his belt and, holding it in his left hand, stretched it out before him while creeping down the little hill where we had gathered, exclaiming,

"Kommit; salt, h-o-o-o! salt, h-o-o-o! kommit, kommit."

"Come; salt, h-o-o-o! salt, h-o-o-o! come, come."

[Pg 377]The deer seemed perfectly to understand his meaning, for she shook her antlers and small tufted tail, and trotted down the other hill towards the Norwegian. Our guide still kept moving forward by stealthy steps, while the animal quickened its motion from a trot to a canter, and arriving within a yard of the proffered salt-bag, made a dead stop. The Norwegian had volunteered the promise, that if the deer turned out to be his own, and he could lay hands on her, we should accept her as a gift.

[Pg 377]The deer seemed to totally get what he meant, as she shook her antlers and little tufted tail, then trotted down the hill toward the Norwegian. Our guide kept moving forward quietly, while the deer picked up speed from a trot to a canter, and when she got within a yard of the offered salt bag, she came to a complete stop. The Norwegian had promised that if the deer turned out to be his and he could catch her, he would gift her to us.

"Kommit," said the Norwegian, in tones of gentler blandness; "salt!—salt, h-o-o-o! kommit, kommit."

"Come here," said the Norwegian, in a softly pleasant tone; "salt!—salt, h-o-o-o! come here, come here."

But the doe was not so easily to be entrapped; for she stretched out her long neck as far as it would go, and then, just as her nose was so near to the salt that its savour made her dart out her tongue and lick her slimy nostrils, she plunged backwards as if a cannon had exploded, and scampered half-way up the hill to her fawn. The Norwegian turned his head and smiled with us, but would not yet despair of success.

But the doe wasn’t so easy to catch; she stretched her long neck out as far as it would go, and just as her nose was almost touching the salt, making her stick out her tongue to lick her slimy nostrils, she suddenly jumped back as if a cannon had gone off and ran halfway up the hill to her fawn. The Norwegian turned his head and smiled at us, but he still wouldn’t give up hope.

"Kommit," still, with onward step, he said, "kommit; salt, h-o-o-o! salt!—kommit, kommit."

"Come here," he said, continuing to move forward, "come here; salt, h-o-o-o! salt!—come here, come here."

The doe appeared as desirous of tasting the salt, as the Norwegian was to give it; for she fixed her large eyes on the little moving man as he stumbled and tottered over the uneven [Pg 378]heath, and watching his gradual approach, threw up her head, and stamped her foot.

The doe seemed just as eager to taste the salt as the Norwegian was to offer it; she fixed her large eyes on the little man as he stumbled and wobbled over the uneven [Pg 378] heath. As she watched him come closer, she raised her head and stomped her foot.

I and my two companions were aware, that the Norwegian intended, if practicable, to seize the deer by the horns, and by that means secure her; but we saw more clearly than he did, that, if any attempt of the kind was made on the doe, she would not only tumble our little friend down the steep side of the mountain, but, no doubt, being with the fawn, gore him. If he is fool enough, we thought, not to know any better, having passed all his life among deer, and claiming, moreover, a patrimony of five hundred head, surely it was needless to interrupt by our surmises his preconcerted plans. For my own part, and I will attribute the same anticipations to R—— and P——, I promised myself more laughter than wounds from the engagement of the Norwegian with the deer; but I knew there was some risk, yet rejoiced in my own heart at the sum of pleasure that might be cast up in my favour, making no deduction for the Norwegian.

My two friends and I understood that the Norwegian planned to grab the deer by the horns if he could, hoping to catch her that way. However, we realized more than he did that if he tried that on the doe, she wouldn’t just knock him down the steep mountain; she would likely gore him since she was with her fawn. We thought, if he’s foolish enough not to know any better after spending his whole life around deer, and claiming to own five hundred of them, it probably wasn't worth it to interrupt his plans with our concerns. Personally, and I believe R—— and P—— felt the same way, I expected to see more laughs than injuries from the Norwegian's encounter with the deer. I knew there was some risk involved, but I couldn’t help feeling happy about the potential for enjoyment without worrying about the Norwegian.

The deer remained perfectly still until the Norwegian could almost have touched her overcome with the insatiable craving to taste the salt; but if he dared, however slily, to move the other hand that held no salt, she bounded several yards from him.

The deer stayed completely still until the Norwegian could almost reach her, driven by an irresistible desire to taste the salt; but if he dared to move his other hand, the one that didn’t hold any salt, even just a little, she jumped several yards away from him.

"Kommit; salt, h-o-o-o! kommit,—kommit; salt, h-o-o-o! salt, h-o-o-o!" the Norwegian [Pg 379]continued half singing, and half importuning the deer to come to him. His importunities and cantata might have lasted for another week, but we observed, that the doe was, by insensible degrees, allowing, like a human creature, her appetite to get the better of her mind, or instinct; and when she took, at last a trifling lap of the salt, the Norwegian, with much dexterity, seized her with his right hand by one of the antlers. The deer, feeling herself thus assaulted, shot, like a thunder-bolt, backwards, dragging the Norwegian with her; and though, by the weight of her antagonist's strength, her nose was almost forced between her fore-legs, she shook her head violently, and making a desperate lunge, struck her countryman somewhere about the silver buckle of his belt, or, pugilistically speaking "in the wind," with her forehead, and threw him, gun, pistols, provender, salt-bag, and all, towards a ravine formed by the rain, into which, rolling over and over, he fell heavily, like a sack of oats. So soon as the deer had butted, and the Norwegian was overturned on his back, the gun went off, and instantly blew his red cap some height into the air, and we made up our minds it must be full, as it was before, of our guide's skull, and that he had now gone to that bourn from which no hunter, like no traveller, could ever return. We ran to his assistance. The gun by some contortion of the Norwegian's body, was twisted upside down, and instead of [Pg 380]the muzzle being pointed downwards, had been elevated, point blank, towards his head. The poor Norwegian, breathing with great labour, closed eyes, and opened mouth, lay on his back, like a log in a mill-pond; but we were glad to find that his mouth, tongue, and all his teeth remained perfect; and it was some inducement to us to raise the body with the hope, that he was not yet beyond the need of medical, if of our skill. The closed eyes of the Norwegian opened, and the opened mouth closed, when he felt us touch him, and sitting upright, showed all the external symptoms of having been stunned, for he rubbed his eyes, and pressed his hand to his brow, then clasped his temples, and with a continuous movement bowed his head, the crown of which we saw was unmutilated. After a time, he looked up at us, and seemed surprised to find himself seated in the gulley; for starting immediately, without any aid, to his feet, he laughed idiotically as some men will laugh when awakened from a nap, and setting in order his dress, and singed hair, bore no other signs of injury beyond a scratch on the left cheek, and the loss of his scarlet woollen cap. The Norwegian, however, has to thank Heaven for a narrow escape, since the whole charge of his gun struck the tassel of his cap, and changed that memento of spousal devotion into its original nonentity.

"Come here; salt, h-o-o-o! come here,—come here; salt, h-o-o-o! salt, h-o-o-o!" the Norwegian [Pg 379] half-sung and half-begged the deer to come closer. His pleas and song could have gone on for another week, but we noticed that the doe was, gradually, like a person, letting her hunger overpower her instincts. When she finally took a small lick of the salt, the Norwegian quickly grabbed one of her antlers with his right hand. The deer, feeling this unexpected attack, bolted backwards like a shot, pulling the Norwegian along with her. Despite the force of her weight, which nearly forced her nose between her front legs, she violently shook her head and made a desperate lunge, hitting the Norwegian somewhere near the silver buckle of his belt, or, in boxing terms, "in the wind," with her forehead. This sent him tumbling, gun, pistols, provisions, salt-bag, and all, toward a rain-formed ravine where he fell heavily, rolling over like a sack of oats. As soon as the deer butted him and the Norwegian landed on his back, the gun went off, launching his red cap into the air. We concluded that it must have been filled with our guide's skull, and he had now gone to that place from which no hunter, like no traveler, could ever return. We rushed to help him. The gun had somehow twisted upside down due to the Norwegian's body, and instead of [Pg 380] the muzzle pointing down, it was aimed directly at his head. The poor Norwegian, struggling to breathe, lay on his back with closed eyes and an open mouth, like a log in a mill pond. We were relieved to find that his mouth, tongue, and all his teeth were intact, which encouraged us to lift his body, hoping he wasn't beyond the need for medical aid, if not ours. When we touched him, his closed eyes opened and his open mouth closed. Sitting up, he exhibited all the outward signs of being dazed; he rubbed his eyes, pressed his hand to his forehead, clasped his temples, and consistently bowed his head, which we saw was unharmed. After a while, he looked up at us, seemingly surprised to find himself in the gully. He then jumped to his feet without any help, laughed foolishly like someone waking from a nap, and adjusted his clothes and singed hair, showing no other signs of injury apart from a scratch on his left cheek and the loss of his scarlet wool cap. The Norwegian, however, should be grateful to luck for his narrow escape since the full charge of his gun hit the tassel of his cap, transforming that token of marital devotion into its original nothingness.

The readjustment of the Norwegian's lungs did not detain us long; and binding his [Pg 381]spotted handkerchief round his head to guard against rheum, or catarrh, he led us by a track almost invisible down the mountain. Since the fray we had seen nothing of the deer, and gave no further thought of her, or any of her genus; but made the best of our way, by the waning light, to a village at the foot of the mountain, whence we hoped to find some conveyance home. The Norwegian, trustful to the last, did not yield all chance of capturing the deer for us; and actuated by the feeling of generosity steadfast to his nation, recommenced his song. Although the first hour of morning had subtracted from that of midnight the light was sufficient to guide our steps aright, but not enough to mislead the wolves; for their howling, and its eternal repercussion among the mountains and over the forests, brought the most melancholy fancies to the mind, which the undecided hue of the atmosphere, neither that of brilliant day nor the black majesty of profound night, and the low moan of the wind through the fir trees, that sounded like the feeble expression of bodily pain, or contrition of a dying creature, made too oppressively sad to admit any thoughts of rational meditation which the solemnity of the time and place might have encouraged. The gloomy shadows of the fir forest, through which we had to pass, caused us to look around with greater caution than we had hitherto done; and our guide failed not to keep our vigilance [Pg 382]alive by exclaiming at the regular terminations of a few minutes;

The adjustment of the Norwegian's lungs didn’t hold us up for long; after wrapping his [Pg 381] spotted handkerchief around his head to protect against mucus or a cold, he led us down a nearly invisible path on the mountain. Since the fight, we hadn’t seen any deer and had put that out of our minds, focusing instead on making our way by the fading light to a village at the mountain's base, where we hoped to find a ride home. The Norwegian, ever hopeful, didn’t give up on the chance of capturing the deer for us, and motivated by a strong sense of generosity typical of his people, he started singing again. Even though the early morning light had replaced midnight's darkness, it was enough to help us navigate but not enough to keep the wolves misled; their howls echoed against the mountains and through the forests, stirring the most sorrowful thoughts in our minds. The indecisive color of the sky, neither bright day nor the deep darkness of night, combined with the soft moan of the wind through the fir trees, which sounded like the weak expression of pain or the remorse of a dying creature, created a sadness that prevented any rational reflection that the solemnity of the moment might have inspired. The dark shadows of the fir forest we had to pass through made us more cautious than before, and our guide kept our awareness [Pg 382] sharp by calling out at regular intervals.

"Varg, varg."

"Wolf, wolf."

"Varg," means a wolf. The rustling of the leaves, or the rolling of a stone as one of us might strike it accidentally with the foot, would set the trigger of each gun clicking, and send from mouth to mouth the signal of——

"Varg" means a wolf. The rustling of the leaves or the rolling of a stone as one of us might accidentally kick it would make each gun's trigger click and send the signal from mouth to mouth of——

"Listen!—h-u-u-u-sh!"

"Listen!—shhh!"

Since we had left the more open part of the mountain, we had not felt entirely at ease; for the incessant tramp of some wild animal was too distinct at times to attribute the sound to imagination; and we pursued our way with a feeling of uncertainty as to the manner and moment we might be attacked. We all concluded, that some wolf had got in our track, and was following at such a distance as to keep himself out of our sight; but not so far to prevent him from pouncing on us just when his opportunity offered. Though we were not wolves, we completely understood the intentions of the animal, and exercised that attribute of craft which is as abundant in the organization of man, as of the brute. We had now reached the very heart of the forest; and the shades of light were so uncertain, that the fallen trunks of the firs and pine were often mistaken for bears, or any other kind of ferocious beast that we had ever heard was of the colour of the bark, or common to Norway. The measured tramp in our rear became louder [Pg 383]and nearer, the deeper we advanced into the forest; and every moment seemed to be the one in which the conflict was to commence.

Since we had left the more open part of the mountain, we hadn’t felt entirely comfortable; the constant sounds of some wild animal were too clear at times to just be in our heads. We continued on our way, uncertain about how and when we might be attacked. We all figured that a wolf was tracking us, staying just far enough away to remain hidden but not so far that it couldn't jump on us at the right moment. Although we weren’t wolves, we fully understood the animal’s intent and used the same cunning that humans possess as much as beasts. We had now reached the very heart of the forest, and the light was so dim that the fallen trunks of the firs and pines were often mistaken for bears or any other kind of fierce creature we had heard about that matched the color of the bark and was common in Norway. The sound of footsteps behind us grew louder and closer the deeper we went into the woods, and every moment felt like the one when the confrontation was about to begin.

"Let us stop and see," said the Norwegian, in his own language, "if he will come up to us."

"Let's stop and see," said the Norwegian, in his language, "if he'll come over to us."

We stood still; and turning the locks of our guns downwards, tapped them, to replace the powder that might have receded from the nipples. We could not afford to give our enemy the benefit of one gun hanging fire.

We stood still, and turning the locks of our guns downwards, tapped them to resettle the powder that might have pulled away from the nipples. We couldn't risk giving our enemy the advantage of even one gun misfiring.

"Keep still," said P——, in a low voice, as he stooped down and glanced through the firs; "here he comes!—but,—no;—it's no wolf."

"Stay quiet," said P—— in a hushed tone as he bent down and peeked through the fir trees. "Here he comes!—but, no;—it's not a wolf."

"Ja," replied the Norwegian, who had asked me what P—— said; "ja!—varg;" and he placed himself in an attitude to fire at the shortest possible notice.

"Yeah," replied the Norwegian, who had asked me what P—— said; "yeah!—wolf;" and he got ready to shoot at a moment's notice.

"It's no wolf, I tell you," answered P——, rather louder than he had spoken at first; "it's too big—why, damn it!" and he again stooped down, moving his body from side to side, as he looked between the pines that obstructed his view; and placing his left hand over his eyes, used it as a kind of shade,—"surely—yes;—I'm sure—it's a jackass!"

"It's not a wolf, I swear," replied P——, a bit louder than before; "it's too big—really, damn it!" He bent down again, shifting his body from side to side as he peered through the pines that blocked his view. Then, putting his left hand over his eyes to block the sun, he exclaimed, "Definitely—yeah; I'm sure—it's a donkey!"

"Is it?" said R——; "well, then, let's shoot him as a nuisance."

"Is it?" said R——; "well, then, let's take him out since he's a pain."

"Nej, nej," exclaimed the Norwegian, with much trepidation, laying hold of R——'s fowling-piece, that he had jokingly raised to his shoulder preparatory to its discharge.

"No, no," the Norwegian exclaimed, clearly worried, grabbing R——'s shotgun that he had playfully raised to his shoulder in preparation to fire.

[Pg 384]The animal, whatever it was, still continued trotting towards us, winding its way by the circuitous track of the forest. P—— kneeled down to have a more exact range both for his gun and sight; but springing to his feet almost instantly, he exclaimed,——

[Pg 384]The creature, whatever it was, kept trotting towards us, making its way along the winding path of the forest. P—— crouched down to get a better aim for his gun and sight; but he jumped up almost immediately and exclaimed,——

"I'll be shot, if it isn't the old doe again!"

"I'll be damned if it isn't the old doe again!"

Panting from fatigue, and the unflagging speed with which she had travelled, the deer, with her fawn, came close to us, and tamed by weariness, stood within a foot of the Norwegian.

Panting from exhaustion after her relentless journey, the deer and her fawn came close to us and, subdued by fatigue, stood just a foot away from the Norwegian.

"Kommit," he said; "salt; kommit, kommit," and filling his hand with salt, the animal came near, and devoured it greedily, and allowed the Norwegian to pat her on the neck and shoulder.

"Come here," he said; "salt; come here, come here," and filling his hand with salt, the animal approached and eagerly ate it, letting the Norwegian pet her neck and shoulder.

The extreme fondness of the rein-deer for salt cannot be better exemplified; for this animal had followed us from her natural abode on the top of the mountain to its base, and could not have performed a lesser journey than twenty miles. She approached us with so much confidence, and licked our hands with that domestic affection which is so winning in dumb animals, that we declined to accept and take her from her native haunts; but strove by every discordant noise and angry gesture to drive her back to the mountains. With the same care, however, that the deer had avoided us, she now sought our society, and did not [Pg 385]leave us until we had reached the precincts of the village, and leaping a high, wooden fence that separated it from the forest, we gave her the alternative of doing as we did, or remaining where she was. With the decorous conduct of her sex she made not the attempt; but during the hour we wandered about the sleeping village in search of some boatmen to row us back to Auron, we could hear her lowing piteously. We had descended the eastern side of the mountain, and arrived on a southern branch of the Sogne Fiord.

The reindeer's strong affection for salt couldn't be clearer; this animal followed us all the way from her natural home at the top of the mountain to its base, covering at least twenty miles. She approached us with such confidence, licking our hands with that adorable affection typical of animals, that we decided against taking her away from her natural habitat. Instead, we tried every loud noise and angry gesture to send her back to the mountains. However, just as she had previously kept her distance from us, she now sought our company and didn’t leave us until we reached the edge of the village. When we jumped over a tall wooden fence that separated it from the forest, we gave her the choice to follow us or stay where she was. In a manner befitting her nature, she chose not to follow; yet for the hour we wandered through the quiet village looking for boatmen to take us back to Auron, we could hear her calling out sadly. We had descended the eastern side of the mountain and arrived at the southern branch of the Sogne Fiord.

Day now began to dawn; and though we had hardly eaten or drank since our departure the previous morning from Auron, the freshness of the early air, the balm of mountain flowers, and the beautiful face of nature, afforded new vigour to our frames, and in feasting the mind we nourished the body. Wandering from cottage to cottage we knocked at the doors and windows, hoping to rouse the slumbering people; but sleep sits more willingly on the peasant's hard pillow than it will pace, without fretting, the softly-garnished chamber of indolent wealth, and not long for morning to fly away. At last we succeeded completely by not only awakening the family of one cottage, but our vociferations alarmed nearly half the village population. I do not recollect the name of the village, but the inhabitants bore the disturbance with great good nature; and thrusting their heads out of their bed-room [Pg 386]windows, that looked no bigger than port-holes, two or three men directed us to the abode of a fisherman who would soon put us in the way of hiring a pram. Finding the fisherman's hut, we soon thumped him out of his dreams, and, shouting uproariously from within, he desired to know who we were, and what we desired. The Norwegian, our guide, entered into a lengthened dialogue through the door, and assured the fisherman of our good faith and bad plight, begging that he would rise, and help us with the means of returning to Auron.

Day was starting to break; and although we had barely eaten or drunk since leaving Auron the previous morning, the fresh morning air, the scent of wildflowers, and the stunning beauty of nature revived our spirits, nourishing both our minds and bodies. We wandered from cottage to cottage, knocking on doors and windows in hopes of waking up the sleeping villagers; however, it seemed that the peasant's hard pillow held onto sleep more willingly than the luxurious chambers of the wealthy, who found it hard to let the night slip away. Eventually, we succeeded not only in waking one family but also in causing a disturbance that alarmed nearly half the village. I don't remember the name of the village, but the locals took the disruption in stride; peering out from their tiny bedroom windows, which looked no bigger than portholes, a couple of men pointed us toward the home of a fisherman who could help us hire a boat. Once we found the fisherman's hut, we quickly roused him from his dreams. Shouting from inside, he asked who we were and what we needed. Our Norwegian guide engaged him in a long conversation through the door, assuring the fisherman of our good intentions and desperate situation, and requested that he get up and help us find a way back to Auron.

Half an hour afterwards we were reclining on some branches of the fir with which the four boatmen, whose services the fisherman had secured, covered the seats and bottom of the pram, having learned from our guide the distance we had travelled; and, spreading their coats over us, bade us rest. To soothe us to slumber, they sang, in union with the motion of their oars, a native boat-song, and its sweet and plaintive air, though it could not entice us to sleep soundly, pacified the wearied nerves, and we lay in a Paradise of dreaming sensibility. These four men were each six feet in stature, and their philanthropy and good nature were as broad as their frames. They ceased not rowing for one moment, throughout the entire distance, to rest on their oars; and though the rain, from two o'clock till four, fell in torrents, their spirits chafed not with its pelting violence; but they sang, [Pg 387]and laughed, and jested with each other as if the sun was shining cheerfully over their heads. We stepped on board the cutter at four o'clock, having been rowed eighteen miles in three hours and a half.

Half an hour later, we were lounging on some branches of the fir that the four boatmen, hired by the fisherman, had used to cover the seats and bottom of the small boat. After learning from our guide how far we had traveled, they spread their coats over us and told us to rest. To help us fall asleep, they sang a local boat song in rhythm with the motion of their oars. Its sweet and wistful melody didn’t quite lull us into a deep sleep, but it calmed our tired nerves, and we lay in a paradise of dreamy sensations. Each of these four men was about six feet tall, and their kindness and good nature matched their size. They didn’t stop rowing for even a moment during the entire journey, and even though it rained heavily from two o'clock to four, their spirits weren’t dampened by the downpour; instead, they sang, [Pg 387], laughed, and joked with each other as if the sun were shining happily above them. We boarded the cutter at four o'clock, having been rowed eighteen miles in three and a half hours.

For all the countries which I have traversed Nature appears not to have done so much to make them agreeable to man, as she has for Norway, and man so little to make his own soil suitable for himself as the Norwegian; nor have I, in either hemisphere, felt more truly spiritualized by the grandeur of the scenery, the honest frankness and simplicity of its people, as here. I have wandered over many parts of the earth; I have looked upon its lofty mountains shrouded in clouds, or capped with snow; I have, loitering in its smiling valleys, seen its waterfalls, and floated on its crystal torpid lakes, and rushing rivers; yet this old land of Norway yields not in all to them, but bears on her stern and rugged brow the soft impressions of a beneficent creation impartially dispensed. Such reflections failed not, day by day, to force themselves upon me; for I knew, that every step I now took removed me farther and farther from a country, whose mighty mountains had, with their solemnity, first taught me to think; and the integrity and single-mindedness of whose children showed how, though fostered in the flinty lap of poverty, happiness and heroic contentment were no fable. The peasants, whom we [Pg 388]sometimes met in the interior of the country, where their livelihood must be earned with the hardest labour, and whose necessity during the long and dismal months of winter must not be much inferior to absolute want, ever seemed cheerful and ready, not only to share their scanty fare with us, but to give us milk and butter, and dried fish, or other dainties which they may have hoarded for the coming time of cold and darkness. Black bread of barley, or of rye, sour and unfit even for "Sailor," formed their daily diet, and meat had never been tasted by thousands; nor did we obtain any other animal food, except at Christiania and Bergen, and there but with difficulty, than what we had brought from England; yet, under all their privations, the contented and happy disposition of these people, added to their independent bearing and dauntless bravery, was a lesson as instructive to luxurious selfishness, as it must be gratifying to the man who believes in the innate nobility of his race, and is proud of it.

For all the countries I've traveled through, Nature seems to have done more to make them pleasant for people than it has for Norway, and people seem to have done less to make their land suitable for themselves than the Norwegians have. In neither hemisphere have I felt more spiritually uplifted by the grandeur of the scenery and the genuine honesty and simplicity of its people than I have here. I've explored many parts of the earth; I've gazed at towering mountains shrouded in clouds or topped with snow; I've lingered in smiling valleys, seen waterfalls, and floated on crystal-clear, still lakes and rushing rivers. Yet this ancient land of Norway rivals them all, carrying on its rugged and stern landscape the gentle marks of a generous creation provided equally to all. These thoughts pressed on me day by day, as I realized that every step I took pulled me farther away from a country whose powerful mountains first inspired me to think, and whose people demonstrated that, even when raised in the harsh conditions of poverty, happiness and true contentment are no fairy tale. The peasants we [Pg 388] sometimes encountered in the country’s interior, where they earned their living through hard work and faced real hardship during the long, bleak winter months, always seemed cheerful and willing to share their meager meals with us. They offered us milk, butter, dried fish, and whatever treats they had saved for the inevitable cold and dark days ahead. Their daily diet often consisted of coarse barley or rye bread that was sour and hardly suitable even for "Sailors," and many had never tasted meat; the only animal food we managed to find, aside from what we brought from England, was in Christiania and Bergen, and even that was scarce. Yet, despite their many hardships, the contentment and happiness of these people, along with their independent spirit and fearless courage, served as a powerful lesson against the indulgent selfishness of luxury, and was surely uplifting to anyone who believes in the inherent greatness of humanity and takes pride in it.

Our guide was determined that we should not quit the Sogne Fiord without some token by which we might remember it; and sending a messenger to the other side of the Fiord, desired that a certain number of his tenants or friends should go to the Reenfjeld, and bring as many rein-deer as they could secure to the foot of a mountain, which he specified by name, on the morrow. Early in the [Pg 389]morning, therefore, the first man who might have been seen on the deck of the cutter, was our Norwegian guide; and helping to heave the anchor, he pointed our course to the spot where the rein-deer would be brought. About one o'clock in the afternoon, we lay-to off a small village consisting of a few cottages, reposing at the base of the mountain which the Norwegian had indicated as our destination. Here, as it had been everywhere else, the scene was sublime; stamped against the blue sky, glaciers were above our heads, and green fields at our feet; and thousands of cascades leaping down the barren sides of the mountains which surrounded us north, east, and west, were not concealed from the eye by tree or shrub; but could be traced, inch by inch, from the flat summit of the mountains to the valleys that sloped to the water on which the vessel swam.

Our guide was determined that we shouldn’t leave the Sogne Fjord without some memento to remember it by. He sent a messenger across the fjord and asked a few of his tenants or friends to go to Reenfjeld and bring as many reindeer as they could to the base of a specified mountain the next day. So, early in the [Pg 389] morning, the first person we saw on the deck of the boat was our Norwegian guide. He helped us lift the anchor and pointed us toward where the reindeer would be brought. Around one o'clock in the afternoon, we anchored off a small village made up of a few cottages resting at the foot of the mountain our guide had mentioned as our destination. Like everywhere else, the view was stunning; glaciers towered above us against the blue sky, while green fields spread out below us. Thousands of waterfalls cascaded down the barren mountain sides surrounding us to the north, east, and west, clearly visible without any trees or shrubs in the way, tracing all the way from the flat mountain tops down to the valleys that sloped toward the water where our vessel floated.

A girl with a basket of cherries came off to the yacht in a boat rowed by an old man, who watched her with solicitude and the most devoted affection; and when arriving alongside, the young lady was requested to come on board, and she complied readily with our entreaty, the despair that shaded the countenance of the old man delineated the torture of his heart. This peculiar appearance of the patriarchal face was not lost upon R——, who was as observant, as he is full of fun, and turning to me, he said, [Pg 390]"Let's take her for a sail, and leave the old bird behind."

A girl holding a basket of cherries came over to the yacht in a boat rowed by an old man, who watched her with concern and deep affection. When she reached us, we asked her to come on board, and she quickly agreed to our request. The sadness on the old man's face showed the pain in his heart. R——, who was always observant and playful, noticed the old man's expression and said to me, [Pg 390] "Let's take her for a sail and leave the old guy behind."

"Very well," I answered; "shall I tell D——?"

"Okay," I replied; "should I tell D——?"

The old man not being aware of the trick we were about to play, had not thought it necessary to make his pram fast to the cutter, but held on by the starboard main-channel. The order was given to put the helm over, and let the foresail draw. The cutter soon began to gather way, and before the old man could imagine why, or whence the increase of traction came, the main-chain slipped through his fingers, and he fell quietly but backwards in his pram. I am sorry to say our fair prisoner laughed as heartily as any one else at the comical attitude of the old man. Unlike the generality of people who have attained his years, the old man still possessed much presence of mind; and the instant he could recover his equilibrium, he sat down and set to work vigorously with his oars. We kept shouting to him in bad Norwegian, to "pull away;" and running the cutter close up in the wind, allowed him to overtake us, and then taking hold of a coil of rope, the sailors bade him to "stand by for the end," but always took care when they did throw it, to make it fall short of him. This went on for some time; so that by degrees we had enticed the old man some two miles from the land, but discovering that we were only cajoling him, he turned the bow [Pg 391]of his pram towards the shore, and with a long face of misery rowed back. The young lady, in the mean time, had wheedled herself into the affections of the amorous tars, particularly of King, he being a linguist. Having sold her basket of cherries she then seated herself on the deck, near the quarter bulwarks, enjoying the excursion and novelty of her situation, and laughing merrily at the discomfiture of her old swain. We had now stood across the Fiord, and sailed within half a mile of another village of some importance, for a large church with a red wooden steeple soared above the houses, out of the windows of which a multitude of heads were thrust and turned towards the cutter.

The old man, unaware of the trick we were about to play, didn't think it was necessary to secure his pram to the cutter and just held on by the right side's main channel. We gave the order to steer the boat and let the foresail catch the wind. The cutter quickly picked up speed, and before the old man could figure out what was happening or where the extra pull was coming from, the main chain slipped through his fingers, and he fell backwards into his pram. I regret to say our pretty prisoner laughed just as loudly as everyone else at the old man's funny position. Unlike most people his age, the old man still had a clear head; as soon as he found his balance, he sat up and started rowing hard. We kept shouting at him in terrible Norwegian to "keep going," and by steering the cutter close into the wind, we let him catch up to us. Then, holding a rope, the sailors told him to "get ready for the end," but always made sure when they threw it to let it fall short of him. This continued for a while; gradually, we lured the old man about two miles from shore, but realizing we were just playing with him, he turned the front of his pram toward the land and, looking miserable, rowed back. Meanwhile, the young lady had charmed her way into the hearts of the enamored sailors, especially King, who was a good speaker. After selling her basket of cherries, she sat on the deck near the side, enjoying the trip and the novelty of her situation, laughing happily at the old man's embarrassment. We had now crossed the fjord and were within half a mile of another significant village, marked by a large church with a red wooden steeple rising above the houses, from the windows of which many heads were peeking out, all turned toward the cutter.

"The girl, my Lord," said D—— coming up to R——, "wishes to go ashore here—she lives here, my Lord."

"The girl, my Lord," said D—— approaching R——, "wants to go ashore here—she lives here, my Lord."

"Man the gig," answered R——, smiling, "and send her off in it."

"Man the boat," replied R——, smiling, "and send her off in it."

"Very good, my Lord;" and away went D—— to give the order. The cutter lay to, and the gig was hauled up from the stern to the gangway. Four men sprung into her, and the cockswain took his seat aft; and received, beside the cushions for the seat and back-board, the empty basket of the Norwegian girl. The girl looked with much attention to all that was going forward; but could not tell why her basket was handed into the boat; and being informed that the gig was waiting to take her [Pg 392]home, she did not dislike the honour about to be shewn her; but smiled and tittered with the instinctive gratification of her sex.

"Very good, my Lord," and off went D—— to give the order. The cutter was ready, and the gig was pulled up from the stern to the gangway. Four men hopped into it, and the coxswain took his seat at the back, receiving, along with the cushions for the seat and backrest, the empty basket of the Norwegian girl. The girl watched everything with great interest but couldn't understand why her basket was handed into the boat. When she was told that the gig was waiting to take her [Pg 392] home, she felt honored by the attention being shown to her, smiling and giggling with the natural pleasure typical of her gender.

"Tak," she said, mindful of her manners, shaking R——, P——, and me, by the hand, "tak, tak;" and gathering her petticoats tight about her legs, yet without any semblance of prudery, walked to the gangway, and, without aid, jumped into the boat. Seating herself on the scarlet cushions, the cockswain receiving permission from her to go on, with all the gravity due to a queen gave the word to his men, and away the gig shot, the girl kissing her hand all the time affectionately, and with no lack of elegance in the bowing inclination of her body in answer to our acts of reciprocal adoration. I need scarcely say, that the girl had never touched her native shores with an appearance more imposing, nor enjoyed herself so largely in so short a time; nor was her return to the village strand on any previous occasion, whether baptismal, or hymeneal, more numerously attended than on that day; for men, women, naked children, and snarling dogs came to the water's side to greet her, without any reference to numerical force, or moral weakness.

"Thanks," she said, keeping her manners in check, shaking hands with R——, P——, and me, "thanks, thanks;" and gathering her skirt tightly around her legs, yet without a hint of prudishness, walked to the gangway, and, without assistance, jumped into the boat. Once she settled onto the red cushions, the coxswain, having received her permission to proceed, gave the command to his men with all the seriousness fitting for a queen, and off they went, the girl kissing her hand affectionately the entire time, gracefully bowing in response to our mutual admiration. I hardly need to say that she had never returned to her homeland looking more impressive, nor had she so thoroughly enjoyed herself in such a short time; her return to the village was more crowded than on any previous occasion—whether for a baptism or a wedding—as men, women, naked children, and barking dogs gathered by the water's edge to greet her, regardless of numbers or weaknesses.

At three o'clock, with the assistance of our glasses, we discovered sixteen Norwegians, and their invariable companions, as many dogs, leading and tormenting four rein-deer down the mountains; and for two hours, along the [Pg 393]narrow road of descent, we watched the whole troop enlarging from the indistinctness of black-beetles to the symmetry and size of men and animals. When they had reached the plain on which the small village was built, they shouted and beckoned to us; and although we made all possible haste, they seemed to fancy their excited feelings sluggish, nor allowed us sufficient time to walk from one side of the deck to the gangway without renewing their whoop.

At three o'clock, with the help of our binoculars, we spotted sixteen Norwegians and their usual companions, just as many dogs, herding and bothering four reindeer down the mountains. For two hours, along the [Pg 393] narrow path down, we watched the whole group grow from tiny black dots to the recognizable shapes of men and animals. When they reached the flat land where the small village was located, they shouted and waved at us; and even though we hurried as much as we could, they seemed to think we were moving slowly and didn't give us enough time to walk from one side of the deck to the gangway without starting their cheers again.

When we landed, the first object that drew our attention from everything else, was a buck, whose height and proportions quite astonished us. This animal measured from the tail to the nose five feet two inches, and from the hoof of the fore leg to the top of his horns, when he held his head up, seven feet three inches, and his body was quite as large as that of an ass. Although very much injured by the violence with which he had been used during his long journey from the mountains, and which had been rendered absolutely necessary by his ferocity and wildness, we were desirous of bringing him alive to England; but being so mutilated, our guide recommended us to have the buck slaughtered, and take a doe and her fawn on board. With great reluctance the death of the buck was agreed to by R——, and this splendid animal was dragged to a field close at hand. The strength and turbulence of the buck are beyond [Pg 394]description; but I do not think I ever enjoyed any fiendish sight more than this short struggle between him and his murderers over twenty yards of ground. None but men, like the Norwegians, accustomed to these savage animals, could have controlled the deer in any way; but notwithstanding all their caution, I saw the buck kick one man on the chest, and throw him, exactly like a nine-pin, over and over, some few feet along the beach. The manner by which the Norwegians had secured this powerful animal was so ingenious, that he could, by no means, do much mischief, except to those persons who, bolder than the rest, went near to caress him; for three ropes were bound round the root of the horns, and being five or six feet in length, were held by three men who stood in the form of an angle, the head of the deer forming the base; or, in other words, one man stood on the left side of the buck, in a line with his left shoulder; a second man stood on the right side opposite to the right shoulder, while the third man took his station in front; and the three men were careful that the rope in the custody of each of them should be kept tight, since the peril of its being slack must be as obvious as its contrariety of tension; for whenever the animal made a plunge, as he sometimes did, towards the man on his right side, the Norwegian on the left could immediately check the career of the maddened deer by "holding on his end," [Pg 395]as sailors say; the man in front at the same time giving his protection, and being protected in his turn.

When we landed, the first thing that caught our attention was a buck, whose size and build completely amazed us. This animal measured five feet two inches from tail to nose, and when he held his head up, he stood seven feet three inches tall from the hoof of his foreleg to the top of his horns. His body was about as large as that of a donkey. Despite being badly injured from the rough treatment he endured during his long journey from the mountains, which was necessary due to his wildness, we wanted to bring him back to England alive. However, since he was so badly hurt, our guide suggested we have the buck killed and take a doe and her fawn instead. With great reluctance, R—— agreed to the buck’s death, and this magnificent animal was dragged to a nearby field. The strength and fury of the buck were beyond description, but I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed watching a more intense scene than his brief struggle with his captors over a distance of twenty yards. Only men like the Norwegians, who are used to handling these wild animals, could have controlled the deer at all; but despite all their caution, I saw the buck kick one man in the chest and knock him over like a bowling pin along the beach. The way the Norwegians secured this powerful animal was so clever that he couldn’t cause much harm except to those who, braver than the rest, got too close to pet him. They had tied three ropes around the base of his antlers, each five or six feet long, held by three men positioned in an angle, with the deer’s head at the base. In other words, one man stood on the left side of the buck, in line with his left shoulder; a second man stood on the opposite right side, and the third man took his place in front. They made sure that each of them kept their rope tight because it was clear that a loose rope could be dangerous. Whenever the animal lunged towards the man on his right, the Norwegian on the left could quickly stop the frantic deer by "holding on to his end," as sailors say, while the man in front provided protection and was also protected in return.

The facility with which this buck was led seemed surprising; for the animal had not only his natural ferocity to offer against the skill of his antagonists, but he possessed strength and all the madness born of the human sounds to which he had been unaccustomed,—the loud ribaldry, and laughter of men and women, the whistle, and shrill cries of boys and frighted infants. Submitting to my ignorance, I must say that I had never seen any large animal killed, and did not know how the operation was performed; and with a feeling of the most horrible infatuation I gathered in the small group round the animal to learn the stratagems observed to surround his legs with looped ropes which, being drawn quickly, slipped into knots and tripped him up. When the proud deer fell to the ground, a man drawing a knife from his pocket, and unclasping it, thrust the blade up to the hilt into the skull between the horns. I could not have conceived anything deprived of life so suddenly; and were it not for the blood that flowed in warm and copious streams from the mouth and nostrils, the animal appeared to have been dead a week. Another buck was killed, and made a present by R—— to his crew. The doe and the fawn were with great difficulty put on board; and [Pg 396]so much time was expended in the construction of a pen for them, that we did not sail until ten o'clock in the evening. The doe received a few bruises in hoisting her over the side of the vessel, and one of the sprouting horns of the fawn was broken, which we endeavoured by splints to restore; but inflammation appeared to succeed so rapidly, that P——, who was principal chirurgeon, was obliged to amputate it with his razor close to the head of the animal. This beautiful little creature is still alive, and may be seen in the Zoological Gardens in the Regent's Park, to which Society both animals were presented by R—— on their safe arrival in England.

The ease with which this buck was led was surprising; the animal had not just its natural fierceness to resist its opponents, but also strength and all the chaos from the unfamiliar human sounds—the loud jokes, laughter from men and women, the whistles, and the high-pitched cries of boys and frightened babies. Admitting my ignorance, I must say I had never seen a large animal killed and didn’t know how it was done; with a feeling of disturbing curiosity, I gathered in the small group around the animal to learn the tricks used to encircle its legs with looped ropes that, when pulled quickly, slipped into knots and tripped it up. When the proud deer fell to the ground, a man pulled a knife from his pocket, opened it, and thrust the blade all the way into the skull between its horns. I could not have imagined anything being deprived of life so suddenly; and if it weren’t for the blood flowing in warm and heavy streams from its mouth and nostrils, the animal looked like it had been dead for a week. Another buck was killed and given by R—— to his crew. The doe and the fawn were very difficult to get on board, and [Pg 396] so much time was spent building a pen for them that we didn’t set sail until ten o’clock in the evening. The doe got a few bruises while being lifted over the side of the ship, and one of the fawn's growing horns was broken, which we tried to fix with splints; but inflammation developed so quickly that P——, who was the main surgeon, had to amputate it with his razor close to the animal's head. This beautiful little creature is still alive and can be seen in the Zoological Gardens in Regent's Park, where both animals were donated by R—— upon their safe arrival in England.

Every available corner of the yacht was filled with moss, for the Norwegians told us we should find some difficulty in urging the doe to eat any other food; but the fawn might be accustomed to corn or oats. What the Norwegians then said was certified afterwards; for when within sight of the English coast, the moss had all been consumed, and the deer pined for its loss, eating nothing else in its lieu but bread and biscuit; but the fawn demolished the leaf of the filbert, corn, and hay, which had been collected in large quantities the last hour before we left Bergen.

Every available corner of the yacht was covered with moss, since the Norwegians warned us that we might have a hard time getting the doe to eat anything else. However, the fawn might be used to corn or oats. What the Norwegians said turned out to be true; once we were in sight of the English coast, the moss was all gone, and the deer was pining for it, eating nothing but bread and biscuits instead. But the fawn happily devoured the filbert leaves, corn, and hay that had been collected in large amounts during the last hour before we left Bergen.






CHAPTER XVIII.

THE SICK SAILOR—THE STORM—THE LEE-SHORE—"BREAKERS A-HEAD"—THE YACHT IN DISTRESS—WEATHERING THE STORM—RETURN TO BERGEN—THE PHYSICIAN—THE WHIRLPOOL—THE WATER-SPOUT—HOMEWARD BOUND—SCARBOROUGH—YARMOUTH ROADS—ERITH—GREENWICH HOSPITAL—CONCLUSION.

THE SICK SAILOR—THE STORM—THE LEE-SHORE—"BREAKERS AHEAD"—THE YACHT IN DISTRESS—WEATHERING THE STORM—RETURN TO BERGEN—THE DOCTOR—THE WHIRLPOOL—THE WATERSPOUT—HEADED HOME—SCARBOROUGH—YARMOUTH ROADS—ERITH—GREENWICH HOSPITAL—CONCLUSION.


Whatever might have been my refinement of feeling, I was not deterred from eating venison for a week afterwards, day by day, and assenting to its delicious flavour, which, for the satisfaction of the son of Epicurus who may read these lines, I would state, tasted very strongly of the moss on which the animal had fed, and comprehended every charming idea he can form of the term "gamey."

Whatever my level of sensitivity, I wasn’t put off from eating venison for a week afterward, day after day, and I agreed it was delicious. Just for the pleasure of anyone who appreciates fine food, I should mention that it had a very strong flavor of the moss the animal had grazed on, capturing all the delightful notions anyone can have of the word "gamey."

All was hilarity on board; and though the evening wind in passing only kissed gently the lazy canvass, nothing occurred to mar the serenity of every face and heart until the afternoon of the day following that on which we sailed from the village. The sailors had been partaking of venison as well as ourselves; but there were not those sounds of joviality incidental to festive occasions, and the silence in the forecastle attracted our notice. "Talk of the Devil," my ancient countrywomen say, "and you will be sure to see him;" but though we had not spoken of his majesty, we certainly alluded to the crew; [Pg 398]and whether D——, their representative, bears any affinity to that mighty potentate, I have never heard; yet certain it is, the said D——, with a countenance of ill omen, came into the cabin, and regretting that he should disturb us at such a time, observed,

All was fun on board; and even though the evening wind barely touched the lazy canvas, nothing spoiled the calmness on everyone's face and heart until the afternoon after we set sail from the village. The sailors had been enjoying venison just like us; but there weren’t the usual sounds of celebration you find at festive times, and the silence in the forecastle caught our attention. "Talk of the Devil," my old countrywomen say, "and you’re sure to see him;" but although we hadn't mentioned his name, we definitely referred to the crew; [Pg 398]and whether D——, their representative, is related to that powerful figure, I’ve never heard; yet it’s clear that the aforementioned D——, with an ominous look, came into the cabin and, regretting that he would disturb us at such a time, remarked,

"I am afraid, my Lord, King is very bad. He eats nothing, and complains a good deal."

"I’m afraid, my Lord, the King is very unwell. He isn’t eating anything and is complaining a lot."

"Of what does he complain?" asked R——.

"What's he complaining about?" asked R——.

"Of a dull pain in his stomach, my Lord," replied D——, "and a continual desire to retch."

"Of a dull pain in his stomach, my Lord," replied D——, "and a constant urge to vomit."

"Oh! it's only a little attack of bile," observed R——; "I will soon put him to rights."

"Oh! it's just a minor bout of bile," R—— said; "I'll have him feeling better in no time."

Rising from his chair, he went to seek his small medicine-chest with which returning, he placed it on the dinner-table. A few grains of calomel were weighed; and due directions being given when the physic should be taken, R—— prepared a black dose for the morrow, and committed that also to the custody of D——.

Getting up from his chair, he went to grab his small medicine chest, and upon returning, he set it down on the dinner table. A few grains of calomel were measured out, and after providing clear instructions on when to take the medicine, R—— prepared a black dose for the next day and handed that over to D—— as well.

"I tell you what it is," said R——, after he had resumed his seat, "those cherries were too sour, and King, in making love to that girl, eat nearly the basket-ful; but if men will be fools, they must stand the brunt of their folly."

"I'll tell you what it is," said R——, after he sat back down, "those cherries were too sour, and King, while trying to woo that girl, ate almost the whole basket; but if guys want to be idiots, they have to deal with the consequences of their stupidity."

"Very true, my Lord," assented D——; [Pg 399]"but I think King more ill than he looks, or says that he is; for he is fond of a drop, my Lord, like most of us, and that predilection tells when it comes."

"Very true, my Lord," agreed D——; [Pg 399] "but I think the King is worse off than he appears or claims to be; he has a liking for a drink, my Lord, like many of us, and that tendency reveals itself when it shows up."

"With this still weather," observed R——, "I suppose we cannot hope to reach Bergen for the next week."

"With this calm weather," noted R——, "I guess we can’t expect to get to Bergen for at least another week."

"There is a slight tide, my Lord, the pilot says sets out the Fiord," D—— made reply; "and if so, the cutter would hardly take so long to drift the distance."

"There’s a slight tide, my Lord, the pilot says it sets out the Fiord," D—— replied, "and if that’s the case, the cutter wouldn’t take this long to drift the distance."

"It is nearly one hundred miles?" said R——, interrogatively.

"It’s almost a hundred miles?" R—— asked, unsure.

"Nearly, my Lord," answered D——; "but I think the wind is edging round to the west. Let us see, my Lord;" and D—— turned round, and began to examine the barometer hanging up behind him, as well as a symparometer.

"Almost, my Lord," replied D——; "but I think the wind is shifting towards the west. Let's take a look, my Lord;" and D—— turned around and started checking the barometer hanging up behind him, along with a symparometer.

"It is very odd, my Lord," he continued, after a pause, "but the barometer is very low, and this symparometer as high as it can well be."

"It’s quite strange, my Lord," he went on after a moment, "but the barometer is very low, and this symparometer is as high as it can be."

We rose to look at the glasses, and found them as D—— had stated; but it was not the first time we had observed this variation between the barometer and symparometer.

We got up to check the glasses and found them to be just as D—— had said; however, this wasn't the first time we noticed this difference between the barometer and the symparometer.

"That barometer must be out of order," said R——.

"That barometer must be broken," said R——.

"I never saw this before, my Lord," answered D——, "and it would be difficult to say which is right, or which is wrong; but you may depend, my Lord, something is brewing."

"I've never seen this before, my Lord," replied D——, "and it's hard to say what's right or wrong; but you can count on it, my Lord, something is about to happen."

[Pg 400]We tapped the barometer, and coaxed the symparometer; but all to no purpose, and they both doggedly retained their relative indications one to the other. D—— had hitherto been guided entirely by the symparometer, for it was a very delicate and beautiful instrument, and never failed in foretelling a shower of rain, or squall of wind. It is remarkable, that when we got to the north of 60 degrees, the symparometer acted directly opposite to that plan for which it was intended; and instead of the declension of the oil being indicative of bad weather, and its ascension prognostic of fair weather, a direct contradiction to the movement of the barometer was the result. Let those who understand the matter account for the fact. The coldness of the climate could have had no influence, for the temperature differed not from that of England; and when we were cruising in the latitude of the Naze, this symparometer was most sensitive and correct in its action.

[Pg 400]We tapped the barometer and fiddled with the symparometer, but it was all in vain; they stubbornly kept showing the same readings. D—— had been relying entirely on the symparometer up until then because it was an incredibly delicate and precise instrument that never failed to predict rain or a sudden gust of wind. Interestingly, when we reached north of 60 degrees, the symparometer started behaving in a way that contradicted its intended function; instead of the oil level dropping indicating bad weather and rising indicating good weather, it produced results that directly opposed the barometer's readings. I leave it to those who know the science to explain this phenomenon. The cold climate couldn't have affected it since the temperature was similar to England's; when we were sailing near the latitude of the Naze, this symparometer was very sensitive and accurate in its readings.

Perplexed by the position of the two glasses we went on deck, and cast our eyes to the clear blue firmament, and rested them, ungratified, on the sharply-marked summits of the mountains. It was now about half-past ten o'clock, the evening being unusually calm, and its breath sweet with the smell of flowers, and aroma of the juniper and fir. The sky was without a stain, except in the west, and there clouds of a dark crimson tinge clustered, [Pg 401]motionlessly, about twenty degrees above the horizon, and extending from the S.W. to the N.W., looked like a narrow zone of red-hot iron; but their splendid colour was lessened by being seen through blacker vapours, that thrown, as a veil of crape, over them, intercepted our vision.

Confused by the position of the two glasses, we went on deck and looked up at the clear blue sky, our gaze landing, unsatisfied, on the sharply defined peaks of the mountains. It was now around 10:30 PM, and the evening was unusually calm, filled with the sweet scent of flowers and the aroma of juniper and fir. The sky was perfectly clear, except for the west, where dark crimson clouds hung motionlessly about twenty degrees above the horizon, stretching from the southwest to the northwest. They resembled a narrow strip of glowing red metal, but their brilliant color was dulled by the thicker darker vapors that draped over them like a black veil, blocking our view.

As the cutter drifted close in to the shore, a great number of filbert trees were pointed out to us by our pilot; and since the fawn had shown, the day before, such partiality for the leaves, I rowed the jolly-boat to land, and commenced plucking as much as the boat would carry. Busy with my task, I paid no attention to the yacht; but still took it for granted, that she lay becalmed. A gun fired; and looking up, I saw the cutter on a port tack, standing across the Fiord; and I knew enough about sailing to understand, that if I did not make haste, I should be unable to overtake her when she reached over, on the other tack, to me. Stowing as many branches of the filbert at the bottom of the boat as it would hold, I pulled to the yacht; but before I got alongside, the wind that had freshened, lulled again calmly as ever. The clouds, nevertheless, to which I have drawn attention, began almost imperceptibly to move, and the darker ones, breaking into small masses as they floated towards the zenith, dilated and assumed all kinds of shapes.

As the cutter drifted close to the shore, our pilot pointed out a bunch of filbert trees. Since the fawn had shown such a preference for the leaves the day before, I took the jolly boat to land and started picking as many as the boat could hold. While I focused on my task, I didn’t pay attention to the yacht but assumed it was sitting still. A gun fired; when I looked up, I saw the cutter on a port tack, crossing the Fiord, and I realized I needed to hurry if I wanted to catch up with her when she turned back my way on the other tack. I stuffed as many branches of the filbert as I could into the bottom of the boat and rowed to the yacht, but before I reached her, the wind, which had picked up, calmed down again. However, the clouds I mentioned started to shift almost imperceptibly, and the darker ones broke into small patches as they floated towards the sky, stretching and taking on all kinds of shapes.

After administering the calomel to King, D—— returned in an hour.

After giving the calomel to King, D—— came back in an hour.

[Pg 402]"My Lord," he said, "King is worse. With his hands clasped on his stomach, he sits writhing with anguish. Listen, my Lord—hear, how he groans!"

[Pg 402]"My Lord," he said, "the King is worse. With his hands pressed against his stomach, he's sitting there in agony. Listen, my Lord—do you hear him groaning?"

R—— spoke not in answer; but walking to the fore-hatch, descended into the forecastle, and we followed.

R—— didn’t respond; instead, he walked to the front hatch, went down into the forecastle, and we followed him.

"Where is your principal pain?" asked R——.

"Where is your main pain?" asked R——.

"Here,—my Lord,—here," and without altering his position, King pressed his right hand closer to the pit of his stomach.

"Here,—my Lord,—here," and without changing his position, King pushed his right hand closer to the pit of his stomach.

"Do you fancy a little brandy?—do you think it will relieve you?" observed R——.

"Do you want a little brandy?—do you think it will help you?" noted R——.

"No,—my Lord," he replied in a faint voice.

"No, my Lord," he answered weakly.

"Keep heart, my man," said R——, placing his hand kindly on King's shoulder. "He ought to go to bed," he then observed to us; and giving instructions to the steward, ordered the large berth occupied by P——, should be prepared. P—— had made the proposal of vacating his cabin; and in a quarter of an hour, King was put to bed. Striving by every means in his power to alleviate the pain an honest and faithful servant was suffering, R—— suggested and tried a variety of remedies, both by external and internal applications; but in vain. The virulence of the disease, whatever it was, increased, and its painful intensity exceeding all endurance, King, with every contortion of body, groaned aloud.

"Stay strong, my man," R—— said, placing his hand gently on King's shoulder. "He really should go to bed," he then noted to us; and after giving instructions to the steward, he ordered that the large cabin occupied by P—— be prepared. P—— had offered to vacate his cabin; and in about fifteen minutes, King was tucked into bed. Doing everything he could to ease the pain that a loyal and faithful servant was experiencing, R—— suggested and tried various remedies, both external and internal; but nothing worked. The severity of the illness, whatever it was, worsened, and the painful intensity became unbearable, causing King to groan loudly with every contortion of his body.

An hour had passed, and the confusion on [Pg 403]deck appeared to grow greater the nearer midnight came. The wind had been rising gradually and determinedly since we first left the deck, and now had arrived at the force and recklessness of a strong breeze. Rare, but great drops of rain struck the deck like lumps of molten lead, and flashes of lightning, yet without the sound of thunder, brought intelligence of an advancing storm. From mouth to mouth ran the order of,

An hour had gone by, and the chaos on [Pg 403]deck seemed to increase as midnight approached. The wind had been gradually and steadily picking up since we first left the deck, and now it had reached the intensity and fury of a strong breeze. Occasionally, heavy drops of rain hit the deck like pieces of molten lead, and bright flashes of lightning, accompanied by no thunder, signaled an approaching storm. The command spread from person to person,

"All hands on deck!" and the shuffling feet of men moving up the fore hatch intimated the promptitude with which the command was treated. R—— and P—— had already returned to the deck; but I remained below doing what little offices I could to assuage the anguish of King; and he seemed to desire my presence for no other service than to give him water; for during the paroxysms of his complaint, he ceased not saying,

"Everyone on deck!" and the hurried steps of men heading up the fore hatch showed how quickly the order was followed. R—— and P—— had already gone back to the deck; but I stayed below, doing what I could to ease King’s suffering, and he seemed to want me around only to give him water; because during his attacks, he kept saying,

"Water! Sir; water!" and would snatch the glass from me, and drink with avidity.

"Water! Sir, water!" and would grab the glass from me, drinking it eagerly.

I crept on deck to see our situation and that of the vessel. Thick clouds, black and rolling one over the other in their headlong flight, overcast the sky, and the stars no longer shone in the firmament. The mountains that had been so distinctly defined when I looked on them two hours before, seemed now shapeless mounds of earth swelling towards Heaven, and adding to the obscurity of night; and when the lightning gleamed in broad sheets, [Pg 404]their great forms hanging over us, had, from the motion of the vessel, the appearance of falling on us. Every instant the strength of the wind became mightier, the thunder roared louder, and before the echo had made response from the nearest mountain-top, the lightning leaped downward from the zenith into the valleys, and darted, while it hissed, from tree to tree. The sea began to rise, and the cutter, that had hitherto lain so placidly on the smooth water, heaved, and her larger spars creaked to the growing scud.

I sneaked out onto the deck to check our situation and the condition of the boat. Thick clouds, black and rolling over each other in a chaotic rush, covered the sky, and the stars no longer shone. The mountains, which had been clearly defined just two hours earlier, now looked like shapeless mounds of earth rising towards the heavens, adding to the darkness of night; and when the lightning flashed in broad sheets, [Pg 404]their massive forms looming over us appeared to be crashing down because of the ship's movement. Every moment, the wind grew stronger, the thunder boomed louder, and before the echo even responded from the nearest mountaintop, lightning shot down from the sky into the valleys, racing from tree to tree with a hissing sound. The sea began to swell, and the cutter, which had been resting so calmly on the smooth water, now rocked, and her larger spars creaked under the increasing wind.

We had now opened the North Sea, and the pilots were desirous of getting under an island that lay about two miles from the mouth of the Fiord, before the gale reached its utmost fury; for by doing so, the vessel would then be perfectly secure in the quiet waters of another Fiord that flowed thence to the walls of Bergen. In the effort to accomplish this, the vessel was exposed to the whole drift of the Northern Ocean; and the wind having settled down to S.W. by W., blew directly in our faces, and placed a fearful shore on our lee. Having looked around me, as well as the pitchy darkness would allow, and ascertaining from the King's Pilot, as he was called, a seaman as courageous as he was skilful, the dangerous bearing of the land, and the object he desired to gain, I took my leave of the deck, and made more room for those who could be serviceable in the governance of the vessel. A deafening peal of thunder shook down a second [Pg 405]deluge, and driven to seek shelter, R—— and P—— came to the cabin immediately after me.

We had just opened the North Sea, and the pilots were eager to get under an island about two miles from the entrance of the Fiord before the storm reached its peak. By doing this, the ship would be safe in the calm waters of another Fiord that led to the walls of Bergen. In trying to achieve this, the vessel was exposed to the full force of the Northern Ocean; and with the wind shifting to S.W. by W., it blew directly into our faces and presented a dangerous shore to our side. After looking around as much as the pitch-black darkness allowed, and checking with the King’s Pilot—a seaman both brave and skilled—about the perilous position of the land and the goal he aimed for, I stepped away from the deck to make room for those who could manage the ship. A deafening crash of thunder brought down a second [Pg 405] deluge, and seeking refuge, R—— and P—— followed me into the cabin.

Taking each a seat on the sofas, we spoke not; and no sounds but the loud words of command, the noise of men running to and fro over head, and the cries of King, interfered with the sovereignty of the thunder, and whistling of the impetuous wind.

Taking a seat on the sofas, we didn't speak; and the only sounds were the loud commands, the noise of men running around overhead, and the shouts of "King," which interrupted the power of the thunder and the howling of the fierce wind.

Dripping with rain, and out of breath, anxious care sitting on his whitened lips to watch and thwart each word he would speak with firmness, D—— hastened down the main companion and addressed himself to R——.

Dripping with rain, and out of breath, anxious worry etched on his pale lips as he tried to monitor and control every word he spoke with determination, D—— hurried down the main staircase and turned to R——.

"My Lord," he said, "the pilots begin to differ: one prays the other to put back, who persists in beating to windward. The gale increases, and the land is not two miles from our lee. What had better be done, my Lord?"

"My Lord," he said, "the pilots are starting to disagree: one is asking the other to turn back, but he keeps trying to sail against the wind. The storm is getting stronger, and the land is less than two miles away on our leeward side. What should we do, my Lord?"

"It is impossible for me to interpose my authority. The safety of the vessel is in the hands of the two pilots; and what they say must be obeyed," replied R——.

"It’s impossible for me to impose my authority. The safety of the ship is in the hands of the two pilots, and their orders must be followed," replied R——.

"But, my Lord, they are at variance," said D——, impressively. "I do not know the coast, and cannot judge for myself which one is in the right."

"But, my Lord, they’re not in agreement," said D——, seriously. "I don't know the area, and I can't decide for myself which one is right."

R—— made no answer, but, calling for a glazed coat and cap, went, accompanied by P——, on deck. Knowing that on all such [Pg 406]occasions as the present, the less crowded the decks are, the more effectually all orders can be carried out, I lay down on the sofa, and noted all that was going forward. Worn in nerve and wearied by the distracting uproar of the elements, and flapping sails, I fell at last into a pleasant mood of thought, and, lost to everything around me, did not perceive that King, by some means or the other, had risen from his berth and was in the cabin, until I heard him groan. Kneeling on the floor, and with his face buried on the sofa opposite to the one on which I was reclining, the poor fellow had placed one of the pillows on the side of the sofa, and was pressing his stomach against it.

R—— didn't say anything, but after calling for a raincoat and cap, he went on deck with P——. Knowing that the less crowded the deck is during times like this, the better all orders can be executed, I lay down on the sofa and observed everything happening. Exhausted and worn out by the chaos of the storm and the flapping sails, I eventually drifted into a pleasant train of thought and became so lost in it that I didn't notice King had somehow gotten out of his bunk and was in the cabin until I heard him groan. Kneeling on the floor with his face buried in the sofa opposite mine, the poor guy had put one of the pillows on the side of the sofa and was pressing his stomach against it.

"Why, King!" I exclaimed, starting from my lethargy, "What has brought you here? You should not have left your bed;" but he did not appear to understand, or hear me. Knowing that he had taken calomel, I took a blanket and threw it over him lest he should catch cold, for the wind passed in draughts through the cabin, as it would rush through a funnel. He looked up, and said,

"Why, King!" I said, snapping out of my daze, "What brings you here? You shouldn't have gotten out of bed;" but he seemed not to understand or hear me. Realizing he had taken calomel, I grabbed a blanket and draped it over him so he wouldn't catch a chill, since the wind was blowing through the cabin like it was rushing through a funnel. He looked up and said,

"Oh! Sir—is it you? Do I disturb you, Sir?"

"Oh! Sir, is that you? Am I bothering you, Sir?"

"No," I replied, "it only disturbs me to see you so ill."

"No," I replied, "it just upsets me to see you so sick."

"Thank you, Sir, thank you," he said, and strove to smile; but his complaint, which appeared to attack him with great anguish at [Pg 407]intervals of a few minutes, altered the expression of his countenance, and with the most horrible distortions, he shrieked like a maniac. When the pain abated he was alive to everything; and hearing the thunder, the fury of the wind and rain, he observed to me,

"Thank you, Sir, thank you," he said, trying to smile; but his pain, which struck him with intense anguish at [Pg 407]intervals of a few minutes, changed his facial expression, and with the most terrible contortions, he screamed like a madman. When the pain lessened, he became aware of everything; and hearing the thunder, the howling wind and rain, he said to me,

"What a night, Sir! If I don't die one way, I shall another."

"What a night, Sir! If I don't die one way, I'll die another."

"Don't despond," I answered as cheerfully as I could, "and you will die neither way."

"Don't be discouraged," I replied as cheerfully as possible, "and you won't die either way."

At this moment R—— and P—— tumbling down the staircase as softly as the pitching and rolling of the cutter permitted, inquired how King felt. I told them what I really thought, that the man was dying of some internal disease of which we were not aware.

At that moment, R—— and P—— were tumbling down the staircase as gently as the swaying of the cutter allowed, and they asked how King was feeling. I told them honestly what I believed: that the man was dying from some internal illness we didn't know about.

"The pilots," said R——, out of King's hearing, "wish now to run back into the Fiord; but if King is not rallying, I think we had better go on. We may get through it somehow."

"The pilots," said R——, out of King's hearing, "want to head back into the Fiord now, but if King isn't recovering, I think we should keep going. We might manage to get through it somehow."

"I am willing," I replied, "to do anything you propose; but I am sure if we be not at Bergen to-morrow, King will be dead."

"I’m willing," I replied, "to do whatever you suggest; but I’m sure if we’re not in Bergen by tomorrow, the King will be dead."

"I agree with you," answered P——.

"I agree with you," replied P——.

"Very well, then," said R——, "as far as we three are concerned, it's a bargain."

"Alright then," said R——, "as far as the three of us are concerned, it's a deal."

"It is," we both replied.

"It is," we both said.

"I will now hear what the men say," R—— continued, smiling with his wonted lively air, "for I can't drown them all without giving them a little time to pipe to prayers."

"I'll now listen to what the men have to say," R—— continued, smiling with his usual lively energy, "because I can't silence them all without giving them a little time to say their prayers."

[Pg 408]Approaching King, he observed, as light-heartedly as the occasion would give cause,

[Pg 408]As he walked up to the King, he noticed, as casually as the situation allowed,

"Keep up your courage, King; we shall be at Bergen to-morrow morning by daylight."

"Stay strong, King; we'll be in Bergen by tomorrow morning at dawn."

"Shall we, my Lord? Thank God!" said the poor fellow solemnly. "But, my Lord," he went on saying, with a forced smile, "though I am sick, I am a sailor. I know this channel well, my Lord—it is narrow, full of blinders, and,—"

"Shall we, my Lord? Thank God!" said the poor guy seriously. "But, my Lord," he continued with a forced smile, "even though I’m feeling unwell, I’m a sailor. I know this channel well, my Lord—it’s narrow, full of blind spots, and—"

"Never mind the blinders," replied R——, with gaiety; "if your messmates will thrash through them, I will."

"Don't worry about the blinders," replied R—— cheerfully; "if your friends can get through them, so can I."

"God bless you! my Lord—thank you;" and the sick man took R——'s hand, and clasped it firmly as the weakness of his condition granted.

"God bless you! my Lord—thank you;" the sick man said as he took R——'s hand and squeezed it tightly, as much as his weakness allowed.

Hurrying to the deck, R—— ascertained the feeling of his crew, for I heard above the loudness of the storm, D—— call to the men,

Hurrying to the deck, R—— checked on how his crew was feeling, because I heard D—— shout to the men above the roaring storm,

"What will you do, my sons? Will you go on, or put back? There is danger a-head; but if we run back, King must die. Which will you do? my Lord gives you the choice, since your souls are at stake. Will you risk your lives to save your messmate; or put the helm up, and throw him overboard at daylight?"

"What will you do, my sons? Will you keep going, or turn back? There's danger ahead; but if we go back, the King will die. What will you choose? My Lord gives you the choice, since your lives are at stake. Will you risk your lives to save your shipmate, or steer away and toss him overboard at dawn?"

As with one voice, they all shouted,

As if they were all speaking together, they shouted,

"We will go on."

"We'll move forward."

I heard the acclamation, and did not think [Pg 409]King was well enough to pay attention to the observations of D——, or the reply of the sailors; but he must have also heard the shout for he said to me,

I heard the cheers, and I didn’t think [Pg 409]King was in good enough shape to pay attention to what D—— said or the sailors' response; but he must have heard the shout too because he said to me,

"What is that they say, Sir?"

"What do they say, Sir?"

"Only," I replied, "that the men are determined to brave the gale, and mean to beat round under the lee of the island into the Bergen Fiord."

"Only," I replied, "that the men are set on facing the storm and plan to sail around to the sheltered side of the island into the Bergen Fiord."

"It is very good of my Lord," said King in a low voice. "If I live, I will never forget my Lord's goodness."

"It’s really kind of you, my Lord," said the King quietly. "If I survive, I will always remember your kindness."

I thought I saw him lift his hand to his face and brush away a tear; but I had persuaded him to lie down on the sofa, and the table, swinging up and down as the vessel pitched and rolled in the trough of the sea, obstructed sometimes my view completely. I rose to trim the dull lamp that burned on the table; and seeing that the blanket had fallen to the floor I approached King to spread it over him again. Poor fellow! he lay on his back with his mouth wide open, gasping for breath, and his sunken closed lids, his ruddy complexion and round face changed to the yellow hue and emaciation of sickness, made me think that he was dying; and I placed my hand on his wrist. At my cold touch he opened his eyes, and groaned. Just then the vessel gave a very heavy lurch, and its violence forced the door that communicated with the pantry back upon its hinges. Scarcely had this accident come to pass, than [Pg 410]Jacko, whom I had not seen for some days, taking advantage of it, ran into the main cabin and, with the curious chirp of the ring-tail monkey, jumped on the restless table. Perceiving with the quickness of a man, that all was not right, the little animal looked into my face for inquiry, and then scratched his side, not from any particular reason, but from habit; and walking on all fours to the edge of the table nearest to me, stopped, and looked again as if to probe my humour, and leaped gently on my arm. I was still standing over King. The monkey peered first at me, and then gaped at King, wondering why he should be so inert, when activity was so paramount; and putting his head on one side, chirped, and appeared to be deliberating about something. Stretching out his neck to have a closer view, he satisfied himself that he was not in error, but knew the face before him, however much illness might have changed it; and being a singular favorite of King, the affectionate creature seemed to understand the miserable condition of his kind friend, and descending with the aid of his tail, which he twisted round my arm, he stepped softly on King's chest. The sick man again opened his heavy eyes, and seeing what had disturbed him, raised his hand, and feebly stroked the monkey's glossy back. As long as I live I shall not forget the expressive despair and love of that little creature. With a low, piteous chirp, it wormed its small, round head [Pg 411]under King's chin, and folded its left arm as far round his throat as it would go.

I thought I saw him lift his hand to his face and wipe away a tear; but I had convinced him to lie down on the sofa, and the table, moving up and down as the boat pitched and rolled in the waves, sometimes completely blocked my view. I got up to adjust the dull lamp that was burning on the table; and noticing that the blanket had fallen to the floor, I went over to King to cover him up again. Poor guy! he was lying on his back with his mouth wide open, gasping for breath, and his sunken eyelids, along with his ruddy complexion and round face, which had turned yellow and gaunt from illness, made me think he was dying; so I placed my hand on his wrist. At my cold touch, he opened his eyes and groaned. Just then, the boat lurched heavily, and the force of it pushed the door leading to the pantry back on its hinges. As soon as this happened, [Pg 410]Jacko, who I hadn't seen for a few days, seized the opportunity, ran into the main cabin, and, with the curious chirp of a ring-tail monkey, jumped onto the unsteady table. Sensing something was off, the little animal looked at me questioningly, then scratched his side, not for any particular reason, just out of habit; and walking on all fours to the edge of the table closest to me, he stopped and looked again as if trying to gauge my mood, then gently jumped onto my arm. I was still standing over King. The monkey first stared at me, then gaped at King, puzzled as to why he was so still when everyone else was so active; and tilting his head, chirped, appearing to think about something. Stretching his neck for a closer look, he confirmed that he wasn't mistaken; he recognized the face in front of him, even though illness had changed it; and being a special favorite of King, the affectionate little creature seemed to understand the dire state of his friend. Using his tail to balance himself, he climbed softly onto King's chest. The sick man opened his heavy eyes again and, seeing what had disturbed him, raised his hand and weakly stroked the monkey's shiny back. I will never forget the deep despair and love in that little creature's eyes. With a low, sorrowful chirp, it tucked its small, round head [Pg 411] under King's chin and wrapped its left arm as far around his throat as it could.

"Jacko," said the sailor, so faintly that I could just distinguish the words he uttered, "I shall—die. Yes!—I must!—yes,—Jacko."

"Jacko," the sailor said so softly that I could barely make out the words he spoke, "I’m going to—die. Yes!—I have to!—yes,—Jacko."

The monkey moved not; but continued chirping, fondling closer to King's neck, and doubling up his body almost into a ball.

The monkey didn't move but kept chirping, snuggling closer to the King's neck and curling up almost into a ball.

"Oh! Lord!—Sir," exclaimed King suddenly—"here it comes! O! O! O!" and the convulsion of his limbs and features testified his anguish. Such expressions of dreadful pain at any other time would have frightened Jacko out of his wits; but now he merely stood upright on his hind legs with his diminutive hands placed on King's cheek, and glancing from the tortured countenance and form of the stricken seaman to my face, expressed his deep concern by the most melancholy chirrups.

"Oh! Lord!—Sir," King exclaimed suddenly—"here it comes! O! O! O!" and his body trembled in anguish. Such displays of terrible pain would have scared Jacko out of his mind at any other time; but now he simply stood upright on his back legs, his tiny hands resting on King's cheek, and looking from the tormented face and form of the suffering sailor to my face, he showed his deep concern with the saddest chirps.

Midnight had come and gone, and the hurricane continued unabated. The wind blowing with terrific violence caused all commands to be given through a speaking-trumpet; and the waves broke over the labouring vessel in such frequent volumes, that they jeopardized the lives of the men, who, in the excitement and execution of their duty, neglected due precaution. I have crossed the Atlantic thrice from one hemisphere to the other, and in a deeply-laden merchant-vessel experienced the [Pg 412]anger of a south-west gale; but my consolation then was to know, that the sluggish ship had ample sea-room. Now, however, the case was reversed; and with a storm concentrating the fury of ten others, our little bark had no breadth of berth to lay to, or length to run in, but was compelled to accept the alternative of beating against the tremendous swell of the North Sea that appeared to crowd all its power and vehemence into the mouth of the Fiord, or be shattered to atoms on the perpendicular rocks of the mountains, against which the waves dashed with a roar not less appalling than that of thunder. The intensity of darkness was complete as that of a wall; for standing a foot abaft the mast, we could not see the bowsprit end; and one man had no other order to fulfil but to wait for the flashes of lightning, and mark the position of the land. I cannot remember any sight either that I have seen, or fable that I have read, which gave me a more terrible idea of death than this night; for not only did the elements struggle with each other to drive us to despair, but the groans and shrieks of a fellow-creature, as he was being borne on the wings of disease to his grave, cut off the small ray of cheerfulness that might have crept into our hearts while standing shoulder to shoulder in contention with the tempest.

Midnight had come and gone, and the hurricane raged on. The wind, blowing with tremendous force, meant that all commands had to be given through a speaking trumpet; the waves crashed over the struggling ship so often that they endangered the lives of the crew, who, in the heat of the moment and while doing their jobs, forgot to take the necessary precautions. I’ve crossed the Atlantic three times from one hemisphere to the other and faced the anger of a southwest gale on a heavily loaded merchant ship; but back then, I found comfort in knowing that the slow-moving vessel had plenty of sea room. Now, however, the situation was flipped; with a storm unleashing the combined fury of ten others, our little boat had no space to maneuver safely, and we were forced to either fight against the overwhelming swell of the North Sea that seemed to funnel all its power and intensity into the mouth of the fjord or be smashed to bits against the sheer rocks of the mountains, where the waves crashed with a roar as terrifying as thunder. The darkness was as oppressive as a solid wall; standing a foot behind the mast, we couldn’t even see the tip of the bowsprit, and one crew member had nothing else to do but wait for flashes of lightning to gauge the position of the land. I can’t recall any sight I’ve seen or story I’ve read that gave me a more dreadful sense of death than this night; not only did the elements battle each other to plunge us into despair, but the groans and screams of a crewmate, as he was taken by illness toward his grave, extinguished any small flicker of hope that might have crept into our hearts as we stood shoulder to shoulder against the storm.

A cry of desperation flew from end to end of the deck, as a vivid gleam of lightning [Pg 413]sped by us, and a tearing noise, like that of a tree whose trunk, nearly severed by the axe, is rent in two by the weight of its branches, and falls to the ground. I thought the mast was struck and shivered by the lightning.

A desperate shout echoed across the deck as a bright flash of lightning [Pg 413] zipped past us, followed by a tearing sound, like a tree whose trunk, almost cut through by an axe, splits in half under the weight of its branches and crashes to the ground. I thought the mast had been hit and splintered by the lightning.

"We are lost!" several voices cried; "the mainsail is split!"

"We're lost!" several voices shouted; "the mainsail is torn!"

King had fallen into unconsciousness, produced either by the acuteness of the nerves being nullified by the assaults of disease, or incidental to that kind of stupor which death casts like a shadow along its path. Disliking to die like a rat in my hole, I went on deck; and a bright flash of lightning showed the mainsail ripped from the second reef earing up to the peak. Though the waves rushed by the vessel with the velocity of the fleetest steeds, and demolished everything that obstructed their career, our craft appeared to defy their fury, and sprung from billow, to billow with the playful airiness of a cork.

King had slipped into unconsciousness, caused either by the intense strain of his nerves collapsing under the weight of illness, or by that kind of stupor that death casts like a shadow in its wake. Not wanting to die like a rat in a hole, I went up on deck; and a flash of lightning revealed the mainsail torn from the second reef earring up to the peak. While the waves rushed past the boat with the speed of the fastest horses, destroying everything in their path, our vessel seemed to withstand their rage, bouncing from wave to wave with the lightness of a cork.

"We are lost!" said P——, collectedly, in a low voice, as soon as my head was visible above the companion.

"We're lost!" said P—— calmly, in a low voice, as soon as my head was visible above the companion.

"No," I replied; "'a live dog is worth a dead lion.' I shall be drowned when I am three fathoms under water,—not before."

"No," I replied; "'a live dog is worth a dead lion.' I'll be drowned when I'm three fathoms underwater—not before."

My companions, I think, attached more heartlessness to my careless manner, and, perhaps, quotation, than I intended; for they made no answer.

My friends, I believe, attributed more coldness to my casual attitude, and maybe even my quotes, than I meant; because they didn't respond.

[Pg 414]"My Lord," said D——, hurrying up to R——, "we must cut away the boom!"

[Pg 414]"My Lord," said D——, rushing up to R——, "we need to cut the boom!"

"Let it go," answered R——, briefly, and with calmness.

"Let it go," R—— replied, simply and calmly.

The cutter was luffed up, and above the roar of the sea, as it lashed and leaped over the bows, D—— shouted,

The cutter was turned into the wind, and above the noise of the sea, as it crashed and surged over the front, D—— shouted,

"Now, my sons, down with the main! and stand by to cut it away."

"Now, my sons, lower the main sail! and get ready to cut it loose."

"Ay, ay, Sir," the men replied, and arranged themselves almost in an instant in their proper places, just as if they moved by mechanism; and not a human voice was heard as the different ropes were let go, and the huge mainsail, flapping furiously, descended towards the deck. The cutter did not seem to feel the immense weight of the canvass, increased as it was by the rain; but danced about as buoyantly as ever. In a few minutes vanished all idea of sending the mainsail adrift, and every thought was turned to the trysail. Five times the attempt was made to set it; but the furious blasts of wind, now freighted with hail, dissipated the strength of our crew with the same facility as the breath of a man would level a palace of cards. During these repeated efforts to get the trysail up, which necessarily occupied much time, the cutter had drifted some way to leeward; and, at last, the man keeping watch on the bow, exclaimed,

"Yes, Sir," the men answered, quickly getting into their positions as if they were machines; not a sound was heard as the various ropes were released and the huge mainsail, flapping wildly, came down to the deck. The cutter didn’t seem to struggle with the heavy canvas, even with the added weight from the rain; it moved as lightly as ever. Soon, the idea of letting the mainsail go was gone, and everyone focused on the trysail. They attempted to set it five times, but the fierce winds, now mixed with hail, drained the crew's strength as easily as a man's breath could knock down a house of cards. While they repeatedly tried to hoist the trysail, which took quite a bit of time, the cutter had drifted quite a ways downwind; finally, the lookout at the bow shouted,

"Breakers! Sir, breakers!"

"Breakers! Sir, we have breakers!"

[Pg 415]A dozen of us vociferated at the same moment,

[Pg 415]We all shouted at the same time,

"Where?"

"Where at?"

"There they are!" shouted the man; "close on the lee-beam!"

"There they are!" shouted the man. "Right off the side!"

Through the thickness of night the waves were discernible like a heap of snow, white with foam, and, as if wantoning with each other, jumping into the air, not fifty fathoms from the yacht. Sailors are brave men; but when a continuity of danger pursues them, they are apt to despair, not from any want of physical or moral ability, but from that morbid impotence which develops itself in their superstitious fancies. The pilots had not given up the hope of vanquishing the storm, and D——, who knew the disposition of his countrymen, did not yet dread their vacillation; but we did. Nothing seemed possible to save us, but the interposition of Heaven; for the storm-jib and reefed foresail were the only sails on the cutter, and they were barely sufficient, in such a sea, to give her steerage way. Every wave that struck the yacht hurled her near and nearer to the breakers; but the courage of the men continued indomitable, and promptly, with the most cheerful expressions, they performed any, the most perilous task allotted to them.

Through the darkness of night, the waves were visible like a pile of snow, frothy and white, and as if playing with each other, leaping into the air, not fifty fathoms from the yacht. Sailors are brave, but when continuous danger follows them, they can fall into despair, not because they lack physical or moral strength, but due to the overwhelming helplessness that shows up in their superstitious thoughts. The pilots hadn’t given up hope of conquering the storm, and D——, who understood his fellow countrymen, wasn’t yet afraid of their uncertainty; but we were. Nothing seemed likely to save us except for a miracle from above; the storm jib and reefed foresail were the only sails on the cutter, and they were barely enough, in such a rough sea, to keep her moving. Every wave that hit the yacht pushed her closer to the rocks, but the men’s courage remained unyielding, and promptly, with the most upbeat attitudes, they tackled any of the most dangerous tasks assigned to them.

"Ware her, pilot!" D—— called out to the principal pilot. The two pilots taking up the hint, consulted for an instant, and [Pg 416]then that one to whom D—— had spoken, said,

"Watch out, pilot!" D—— shouted to the main pilot. The two pilots caught the hint, exchanged a quick look, and [Pg 416] then the one D—— had addressed replied,

"Ware ship."

"Warehouse."

The beautiful little vessel obeyed her helm as willingly as if she were on a lake; and D—— could not help observing to me, his eyes beaming with the devotion of a sailor for his ship,

The beautiful little boat followed the steering as easily as if it were on a lake; and D—— couldn’t help but mention to me, his eyes shining with the love of a sailor for his ship,

"It's a shame, Sir, to doubt she would ever perform her duty."

"It's a shame, Sir, to question if she would ever do her job."

Scarcely had the words fallen from his lips, or the cutter wore round, when the man, who had first seen the breakers, shouted a second time, like the flying herald of Doomsday,

Scarcely had the words left his lips, or the boat turned around, when the man who had first spotted the waves shouted a second time, like the messenger of Doomsday,

"There's a vessel going to run us down!"

"There's a boat about to run us over!"

Every soul ran to the weather side and sought with starting eyes the object of anticipated destruction. By the gleams of light a native vessel, with a sole square-sail set, was imperfectly seen bearing down on our weather bow; and although the wind and sea combined with the darkness to render our annihilation seemingly inevitable, the crew of the approaching bark sang, in a long, slow measure, two or three Norwegian words, and their constant, drawling repetition became distincter as the vessel, like an ice-berg, tore through the frothing surge towards us. There stirred not a sound on board our cutter, except the unceasing exhortation, spoken almost sepulchrally, of the pilot standing near to the helmsman,

Every person rushed to the side facing the storm, eyes wide with fear as they searched for the source of the impending disaster. In the flickering light, we caught a glimpse of a local ship, with a single square sail up, coming straight at us. Even though the wind, the waves, and the darkness made our destruction seem unavoidable, the crew of the approaching ship sang, slowly and methodically, a few Norwegian words. Their steady, drawn-out repetition became clearer as the vessel, like an iceberg, cut through the churning waves toward us. There was no sound on our boat except for the constant, grave urging of the pilot standing next to the helmsman.

"Stea—dy!—stea—dy!"

"Steady! Steady!"

[Pg 417]Both pilots appeared to have understood the signification of the chant, for they altered not the course of the cutter, but kept their eyes fixed, as well as the night admitted, on the huge white sail of the spectral vessel; and would make no other reply to our questions, but,

[Pg 417]Both pilots seemed to understand the meaning of the chant, as they didn't change the course of the boat but kept their eyes focused, as much as the night allowed, on the large white sail of the ghostly ship; and they would respond to our questions with nothing else but,

"They see us, they see us."

"They see us, they see us."

Like the spirit of the storm, the vast sail glided through the black air above our top-mast, for it was so dark we could not distinguish the hull; and there was something of mystery and impressive awe, amid the howling tempest, the roar of thunder, and the flash of lightning, in this slow, chanting recitation, uttered by a number of voices that seemed to proceed from the dense obscurity.

Like the spirit of the storm, the huge sail moved through the pitch-black air above our top mast, as it was so dark we couldn’t see the hull; and there was a sense of mystery and incredible awe, amidst the howling wind, the boom of thunder, and the flash of lightning, in this slow, rhythmic recitation spoken by several voices that seemed to come from the thick darkness.

It was a vessel from Bergen bound up the Sogne Fiord for timber; and the crew having seen us buffeted, in such a shattered condition, by the gale, and perceiving by the rig of the cutter, that she was a foreigner, humanely bore down to us; and the mystical song of the sailors was a signal to follow them, which being sung slowly and with unfailing repetition, outlasted the blasts of wind, and gave us the opportunity of catching the words as the two vessels rose on the crests of the waves. Our pilots refused to adopt the counsel given, and run out to sea; for had they done so, we might have found ourselves by daylight driven half way to Trondhjem, and the life of King must have been sacrificed.

It was a ship from Bergen heading up the Sogne Fjord for timber. The crew, seeing us battered and clearly in bad shape from the storm, noticed by the cutter's rig that we were foreigners. Out of kindness, they came over to us. The sailors' haunting song served as a signal for us to follow them. Sung slowly and repeatedly, it carried over the wind, allowing us to catch the words as both vessels rose on the waves. Our pilots refused to take the advice and head out to sea because if they had, we might have found ourselves, by daylight, halfway to Trondhjem, and King’s life would have been in jeopardy.

[Pg 418]Neither wind nor sea yielded yet, and we were as stubborn; but had the trim of the yacht not been true, and her liveliness that of a straw, the swell would have made a clean breach over her decks, and its pressure been fatal. At two we got under the lee of the long-desired island. The trysail that had been partially hoisted was now set properly, and trusting to the goodness of our cause, guaranteed by the tried worthiness of our craft, we stretched away from the island, and stood for Bergen.

[Pg 418]Neither the wind nor the sea gave in, and neither did we; but if the yacht hadn’t been trimmed properly and responsive like a feather, the waves would have crashed over the decks and could have been deadly. By two o'clock, we finally reached the shelter of the long-awaited island. The trysail that had been partially raised was now fully deployed, and trusting in our mission, backed by the proven reliability of our vessel, we moved away from the island and headed towards Bergen.

Returning to the cabin I found King awake, lying where I had left him. When he saw me,

Returning to the cabin, I found King awake, lying where I had left him. When he saw me,

"My pain is easier, sir," he said, not more audibly than a whisper; "but I feel weaker."

"My pain is more manageable, sir," he said, barely louder than a whisper; "but I feel weaker."

"That's your fancy," I answered livelily; but not without the fear that internal mortification was ensuing. "We have beaten the gale on its own ground," I proceeded, endeavouring to divert his thoughts, "and are standing right down the Bergen Fiord."

"That's your style," I replied cheerfully, though I was worried about feeling embarrassed inside. "We've conquered the storm on its own turf," I continued, trying to change the subject, "and we're right down the Bergen Fjord."

"It is good of my Lord—very," he replied, and drew a deep sigh; "but—I shall never see England again. My poor wife!" The tears ran silently down his sunken cheeks. While the sick man wept, my two friends, with countenances of joy, entered the cabin.

"It’s very kind of my Lord," he replied, letting out a deep sigh; "but—I’ll never see England again. My poor wife!" Tears streamed silently down his sunken cheeks. While the sick man cried, my two friends, wearing joyful expressions, entered the cabin.

"Well!" observed one of them, "I thought all was up with us; but it is now only a tale to tell."

"Well!" one of them said, "I thought we were done for; but it’s just a story to share now."

[Pg 419]"Yes," the other replied, "neither on sea or shore fail experiments of the heart; and if we could only land you, King," continued the speaker, drawing near to the sofa, "three or four hours hence in Bergen, I would not decline fighting the same battle, ignorant of its chances, again next week."

[Pg 419]"Yes," the other replied, "whether at sea or on land, emotions don’t hold back; and if we could just bring you to shore, King," the speaker continued, moving closer to the sofa, "three or four hours from now in Bergen, I wouldn’t hesitate to face the same challenge, not knowing how it would turn out, again next week."

The sailor, too sad and ill to speak, smiled through his tears at the generosity of a youthful spirit. After administering every possible comfort to King, we lay down to rest; and it seemed that I had hardly closed my eyes when the grating noise of the cable awoke me. The yacht was at anchor in Bergen harbour. In less than half an hour a medical man was on board; and by his order King was immediately wrapped up in blankets and taken ashore. He was in the last stage of intestinal inflammation; and an hour more would have sealed his destiny. I need not say, that for many days life oscillated uncertainly between death and the vigour of his constitution; but R—— had the good fortune to secure the services of a most skilful, though young, Norwegian physician. None of us can speak too highly of the kindness and unhesitating attention of this gentleman, who combined not only the estimable and generous disposition of youth with the intellectual attainments of maturer years, but claimed every accomplishment of manner and attraction of form that birth and education might have refined and nature alone could give.

The sailor, too sad and sick to talk, smiled through his tears at the kindness of a young spirit. After providing every possible comfort to King, we lay down to rest, and it felt like I had barely closed my eyes when the harsh noise of the cable woke me up. The yacht was anchored in Bergen harbor. In less than half an hour, a doctor was on board, and by his orders, King was quickly wrapped in blankets and taken ashore. He was in the final stage of intestinal inflammation, and another hour would have sealed his fate. I don't need to say that for many days, life hung uncertainly between death and the strength of his constitution; however, R—— was fortunate to secure the services of a very skilled, albeit young, Norwegian doctor. None of us can speak highly enough of the kindness and prompt attention of this gentleman, who combined the admirable and generous nature of youth with the intellectual abilities of older years, and possessed every grace of manner and charm of appearance that birth and education could refine and nature alone could provide.

[Pg 420]So ended the 1st of August, to live in our memories. In the evening we went to see King. He was so ill, that his medical attendant begged, while remaining in his bed-room, we would not speak. The poor fellow was delirious. When we came near to his bed-side, he stared at us; but could not remember who we were. Sailor, who managed to push his way up stairs, though we had taken the precaution to leave him out of doors, rushed up to the bed, and placed his paws on it; but a cuff on the head sent him to the other end of the room. King seemed to have recognized the dog; for he rolled his head from side to side on the pillow, as if in reprobation of the act to keep the animal from him; and although his left hand lay outside the coverlet, he was so exhausted, having been bled twice, that he could not stir it; but moved the forefinger, beckoning the animal to him. At the suggestion of the doctor we stood on one side, and opened a passage for the dog. The animal crouching in the farthest corner of the room, hung his head, doubtful of the duty required of him; but the moment R—— motioned with his hand, the dog in one bound reached the bed. The wan, vacant countenance of the sufferer, brightened with the hue and intelligence of health, for he smiled and moved his lips, though he had not sufficient strength to articulate a word. The dog sometimes licked his hand, and then with playfulness, took the [Pg 421]moving finger between his teeth, and allowing it to slip from his mouth, would seize it again; and so, although both were speechless, both understood each other. At last some sad reflection, the thought perhaps of home, or the little chance he had more of sharing the affection of any human thing, as he did now, crossed his mind; for the sick man closed his eyes, while yet his finger moved as before and the noble brute still toyed with it, and oozing from under the shut lids, one by one, the tears ran over, and bathed his temples.

[Pg 420]So ended August 1st, leaving memories behind. In the evening, we went to see King. He was so ill that his doctor asked us not to speak while we were in his bedroom. The poor guy was delirious. When we approached his bedside, he stared at us but couldn’t remember who we were. Sailor, who managed to sneak upstairs even though we had tried to keep him outside, rushed to the bed and placed his paws on it; but a quick slap sent him to the other side of the room. King seemed to recognize the dog; he rolled his head from side to side on the pillow, as if disapproving of the effort to keep the animal away from him. Although his left hand lay outside the covers, he was too weak from being bled twice to move it, but he wiggled his forefinger, beckoning the dog to come closer. At the doctor's suggestion, we stepped aside to give the dog a clear path. The animal, crouched in the far corner of the room, hung his head, unsure of what to do; but the moment R—— waved his hand, the dog leaped to the bed in one bound. The pale, unfocused face of the sick man brightened with a hint of health, as he smiled and moved his lips, though he didn’t have enough strength to say anything. The dog would occasionally lick his hand, then playfully grab the [Pg 421]moving finger between his teeth, letting it slip from his mouth only to catch it again; and so, even though they couldn't speak, they understood each other perfectly. Eventually, a sad thought crossed the sick man's mind, perhaps about home or the little chance he had to feel affection from any living thing again, as he did now; for the ill man closed his eyes, yet his finger continued to move as before, and the noble dog still played with it, while tears began to flow one by one from under his closed lids, bathing his temples.

"We shall excite him, doctor," we said in a whisper.

"We'll get him excited, doctor," we said quietly.

"I think so," he replied; "leave him for the present."

"I think so," he replied, "let's leave him for now."

We left the room; but it was with some difficulty we could get the dog to follow us. The attachment of animals is a common tradition, but I have never had the opportunity of seeing it so feelingly displayed as during the illness of King; nor did the rage of the elements, or the fear of death press heavier on my spirits than the mute love of Sailor and Jacko touched me deeply. No living creatures could have remembered with more devotional sincerity the acts of friendship and human kindness, or demonstrated their grief with greater effect and truth.

We left the room, but it was pretty hard to get the dog to follow us. Animals often form strong bonds with humans, but I’ve never seen it expressed so intensely as during King’s illness. The chaos of the storm and the fear of death didn’t weigh on me as heavily as the silent love from Sailor and Jacko. No living beings could remember acts of friendship and kindness with more genuine sincerity or show their grief with more impact and honesty.

Our stay at Bergen was greatly lengthened by the illness of King; for R—— did not like to leave Norway without being assured of [Pg 422]his ultimate recovery. During our sojourn, the guide, a Swede, whom we had hired, pointed out the house in which the Marquis of Waterford was lodged after his encounter with the watchman, when his life was nearly lost. Borne on their shoulders, the watchmen carry about with them a long staff, at the end of which is a circular knob full of small spikes that resemble the rays of a star, on which account the staff is called the Morning Star; and with one of these astral knobs the noble Lord, in a scuffle, was struck on the head. The inhabitants of Bergen still remember the Marquis; and while they condemn the conduct of their countryman, exalt the character of the young nobleman; and I believe myself, that the local trade of the town never received before his arrival, or after his departure, such an impetus as it did from the liberality and personal expenditure of Lord Waterford. Our guide did nothing else but talk of him, and laughed till he cried while recounting the comical freaks of "the sweet man;" or, as he phrased him vernacularly,

Our stay in Bergen was extended because the King was ill; R—— didn't want to leave Norway without being sure of [Pg 422]his recovery. During our time there, the guide, a Swede we had hired, showed us the house where the Marquis of Waterford stayed after his run-in with the watchman, which almost cost him his life. The watchmen carry a long staff on their shoulders, topped with a circular knob covered in small spikes that look like star rays; that's why it's called the Morning Star. The noble Lord got hit on the head with one of those star knobs during a scuffle. The people of Bergen still remember the Marquis; while they criticize their countryman's actions, they admire the young nobleman's character. I believe the local economy had never seen as much growth before his arrival or after his departure as it did thanks to Lord Waterford's generosity and personal spending. Our guide couldn’t stop talking about him and laughed until he cried while telling stories about "the sweet man," or as he put it in his local dialect,

"Manen sött."

"Sweet dreams."

The lateness of the season made R—— anxious to quit Norway before the middle of August; and since King could not, under the most favourable circumstances, leave his bed before the end of the month, we thought of our return to England. On the afternoon of the 7th, King being pronounced entirely out [Pg 423]of danger, and, as far as human wisdom could tell, certain of regaining his former health, we sailed; but R—— left in the hands of the British Consul a sum of money, to purchase whatever might be required for King's present use, and future passage to England; and writing a note which was to be given to him by the Consul, when he was sufficiently well to read it, R—— told the poor fellow not to be hurt at our departure; but that we had sailed from Bergen by compulsion, and not according to the dictates of our own hearts. Promising to touch at Harwich, and communicate to his wife the tidings of his convalescence, for we had written to inform her of her husband's desperate condition, R—— concluded by intimating, that the Consul would supply him with every luxury he desired, and he was not to hesitate in the expression of any fancy his sickly state might prompt him to make. R—— told him, also, to join the yacht at Cowes when he returned to England. King lived to see the English shores again, and gratefully, in the blunt, pathetic language of a sailor, to thank his amiable benefactor. He fills, at this moment, his old post.

The late season made R—— anxious to leave Norway before mid-August; and since King couldn’t, under the best circumstances, get out of bed before the end of the month, we considered our return to England. On the afternoon of the 7th, with King declared completely out of danger and, as far as anyone could tell, sure to regain his health, we set sail; but R—— left some money with the British Consul to buy whatever King might need for his current situation and future trip back to England. He also wrote a note for the Consul to give to King when he was well enough to read it, telling him not to feel hurt by our departure, but that we had left Bergen out of necessity, not choice. R—— promised to stop in Harwich and update King's wife about his recovery, as we had written to inform her of her husband’s serious condition. R—— ended by mentioning that the Consul would provide him with all the comforts he wanted, and he shouldn’t hesitate to express any wishes that might come to him in his weak state. R—— also told him to meet the yacht at Cowes when he returned to England. King lived to see the English coast again, and gratefully, in the straightforward, heartfelt words of a sailor, thanked his kind benefactor. He is currently back in his old position.

Although the afternoon was calm, the cutter dropped rapidly down the Fiord, until within four miles of the sea. The pilot, one of the most expert at Bergen, had been very anxious to get the yacht clear from the land before night-fall, that he might be on his homeward [Pg 424]way in good time; nor were we less desirous of taking our departure before set of sun. But Fortune seems ever to act towards some men with the sincerest malice. About half a league, as I have said, from the mouth of this Fiord, one of many that conducts to Bergen, and on the starboard shore, is a rock that juts towards the centre of the channel, and forms a small bay. Mariners know the spot well, and avoid it. The surrounding scenery, fraught with the natural softness of beauty and severe grandeur of Norway, resembles most other things that bear, seductively, external comeliness, and carry an antidote unseen. The bay is a whirlpool. Our hyperboreal Palinurus was perfectly acquainted with this modern Charybdis, and used every stratagem of which he was master, to escape it; but the wind being light, left the cutter to the mercy of the current. Nearly three hours the yacht did nothing else but revolve, as if she were fixed on a pivot, and not all the united exertions of the crew could tow her out of the eddy.

Although the afternoon was calm, the cutter drifted quickly down the fjord, until it was four miles from the sea. The pilot, one of the most skilled in Bergen, was very eager to get the yacht away from the coast before nightfall so he could head home at a reasonable time; we also wanted to leave before sunset. But it seems that Fate often has it in for some people. About half a league, as I mentioned, from the mouth of this fjord, one of many leading to Bergen, there's a rock that juts into the center of the channel, creating a small bay. Mariners know this spot well and steer clear of it. The surrounding scenery, full of the natural softness of beauty and the harsh grandeur of Norway, resembles many other things that, while beautifully appealing, carry an unseen danger. The bay is a whirlpool. Our northern guide was well aware of this modern Charybdis and used every trick he knew to avoid it; however, with the wind being light, the cutter was left at the mercy of the current. For nearly three hours, the yacht just spun around as if it were on a pivot, and none of the crew's combined efforts could pull it out of the eddy.

The unhappy pilot stamped his foot every time the cutter took a fresh whirl, and called his favourite Odin to witness his dilemma; but Odin paid as much deference to his prayers as Hercules did, of yore, to the waggoner who got the wheel of his cart in the rut. The cutter wearied not in her waltz; but, whether she felt the want of a partner, or the power [Pg 425]of the wind, I know not; for when the pilot had lighted his pipe, and given his soul to its soporific ward, she darted unexpectedly out of the circling haven, and ceased not in her flight until the first wave of the Ocean leaped up against her bow with so much rude impetuosity that her hull staggered under its force, and her gaff-topsail shook with anger at such lack of gentleness.

The frustrated pilot stomped his foot every time the cutter spun again and called out to his favorite Odin to witness his situation; but Odin paid as much attention to his pleas as Hercules once did to the farmer who got his cart wheel stuck in a rut. The cutter didn’t tire of her dance; but whether she missed a partner or felt the push of the wind, I can’t say; for when the pilot lit his pipe and surrendered to its calming effects, she suddenly shot out of the swirling harbor and didn’t stop her journey until the first wave of the Ocean slammed against her bow with such force that her hull rocked under the impact, and her gaff-topsail trembled in anger at such roughness.

Amid a multitudinous salute of "Farväl!" the pilot bundled into his pram; and even now I see him tossed about, looking the very configuration of "Gamle Norge."

Amid a loud chorus of "Goodbye!" the pilot climbed into his small boat; and even now I can see him being tossed around, looking just like "Old Norway."

The sameness of all other seas is not forbidden to this northern one; and except a more constant repetition of squalls and showers of rain, I distinguished the great family likeness. The 8th of August passed pleasantly enough, and for those souls which can absorb the sublimity of water, and soar to the infinity of space, the scene might have seemed wondrous in width and height; but the subsequent day, while sitting below and reading, I heard a tremendous racket on deck, and before I could exactly arrange the different sounds, the main-sail and gaff-topsail came to the deck "with a run;" and for aught I knew to the contrary, but strongly imagined, the gib and foresail followed their example with like expedition.

The sameness of all other seas isn’t absent from this northern one; and aside from a more frequent pattern of squalls and rain showers, I could see the strong resemblance. August 8th passed by pretty nicely, and for those who can appreciate the majesty of water and reach for the endless sky, the view might have seemed amazing in its vastness. But the next day, while I was sitting below reading, I heard a huge commotion on deck, and before I could sort out the different sounds, the mainsail and gaff-topsail came down to the deck "with a run;" and for all I knew, and strongly suspected, the jib and foresail followed suit with the same speed.

"We shall go up in the air, like a balloon!" one of the sailors, with a twang of horror in his voice, exclaimed.

"We're going to fly up in the air, like a balloon!" one of the sailors shouted, his voice tinged with fear.

[Pg 426]"Ay, or swamped!" a second suggested, loudly, with dreadful determination.

[Pg 426]"Yeah, or overwhelmed!" a second person suggested, loudly, with a sense of grim determination.

"Ay, ay; and the deck's as good as stove in!" growled a third nautical son of a Shuhite.

"Aye, aye; and the deck's practically wrecked!" growled a third sailor from Shuhite.

I threw the book I had been perusing on the cabin table, and hurried towards the staircase; but one of my friends met me at the door, and moving with the same velocity as myself, we came into sharp collision. He rebounded to the right, and I recoiled to the left hand.

I tossed the book I'd been reading onto the cabin table and rushed toward the staircase. But one of my friends met me at the door, and moving as fast as I was, we crashed into each other. He bounced off to the right, and I stumbled back to the left.

"For God's sake, get out of the way," said he, out of breath, and recovering his legs as fast as he could.

"For God's sake, move out of the way," he said, out of breath, trying to get his legs back under him as quickly as he could.

"What's the matter?" I asked, with much alarm. "Is the vessel on fire, or what?"

"What's wrong?" I asked, feeling very worried. "Is the ship on fire or something?"

"No;—nothing," replied he, with a wildness of look that foretold anything but nothing. "Here, steward!" he called out at the top of his voice,—"Alfred!—Gandy!—cook!"—dismay expanding the sources of information, and adding loudness to his vociferation—"Where's my gun?"

"No;—nothing," he replied, with a wild look that hinted at anything but nothing. "Hey, steward!" he shouted at the top of his lungs,—"Alfred!—Gandy!—cook!"—panic amplifying his calls and making them louder—"Where's my gun?"

The steward, Alfred, Gandy, and the cook were busily employed elsewhere, for they made no reply, and my friend soon found, without their assistance, what, at first, confusion of mind had hid from his sight.

The steward, Alfred, Gandy, and the cook were all busy elsewhere, so they didn’t respond, and my friend quickly realized, without their help, what confusion had initially blinded him.

Breathless, too, with the flushed face and disordered dress of haste and horror, my other fellow traveller came thundering down the companion, and the thick shooting-boots he commonly wore clattered the importance of his approach.

Breathless, with a flushed face and messy clothes from rushing and fear, my other travel companion came rushing down the hallway, and the heavy boots he usually wore announced his arrival with a loud clatter.

[Pg 427]"Gracious heaven!" I exclaimed, "What is all this about? If I am to be——"

[Pg 427] "Oh my gosh!" I exclaimed, "What is going on here? If I am to be——"

"Where's the powder?" asked he, and brushing by me, like a rocket, to get across the cabin, brought his shoulder so forcibly in contact with my chest, that he knocked all the breath out of my lungs, and broke my second sentence into pieces.

"Where's the powder?" he asked, and as he brushed past me like a rocket to get across the cabin, his shoulder collided so hard with my chest that it knocked the breath out of my lungs and shattered my second sentence.

"Where's the powder?" again asked he, his voice ascending in the scale of articulation.

"Where's the powder?" he asked again, his voice rising in clarity.

"How am I to know?" fulminated the one, angrily, loading his gun with the despatch of an adroit musketeer. "Am I a magazine?"

"How am I supposed to know?" shouted the other, angrily, quickly loading his gun like an experienced musketeer. "Am I a newsstand?"

"No; I know that," said the other, tartly.

"No; I know that," the other replied sharply.

"Well; what's the good of baiting a fellow when he's busy," replied the first decisively.

"Well, what's the point of bothering someone when they're busy?" replied the first person firmly.

I could rest no longer in ignorance of my fate, and I scrambled on deck. The vessel labouring very much in a heavy sea, had not a stitch of canvass on her, and her bare mast tapered into the air like a cocoa-nut tree that had been discrowned.

I could no longer stay in the dark about my fate, so I rushed on deck. The ship was struggling a lot in the rough sea, had no sails up, and her bare mast reached into the sky like a palm tree that had lost its crown.

"What is all this?" I said, appealing to one man who had hold of the tiller, and, with his neck extended like a race-horse, seemed to be steering as if the greatest way was on the vessel.

"What is all this?" I said, turning to the one man who was holding the tiller, and with his neck stretched out like a racehorse, he appeared to be steering as if the most important direction was on the ship.

"Look there, your Honour," and without removing his eyes from the bow of the cutter, he pointed the thumb of his left hand over his shoulder. I turned, and saw, half a mile astern, the cause of all this uproar. But I [Pg 428]had barely a clear conception of what I was looking at, when my companions with loaded guns reappeared on deck. The triggers clicked, and I assumed their guns were to be discharged at once, but D—— called out,

"Look over there, Your Honor," and without taking his eyes off the bow of the cutter, he pointed his left thumb over his shoulder. I turned and saw, half a mile behind us, the reason for all this commotion. But I [Pg 428]could hardly make sense of what I was seeing when my companions with loaded guns came back on deck. The triggers clicked, and I figured their guns were about to be fired, but D—— shouted,

"Not yet; it's too far off."

"Not yet; it's too far away."

"Tell us when to fire, then," said my two friends, filing themselves in that attitude which the reader may have observed in a regiment of soldiers, when the word is given to "present."

"Tell us when to fire, then," said my two friends, taking the position that readers might recognize in a line of soldiers, when the command is given to "present."

"What!" I cried out, now that I found my senses by the visual elucidation of the threatened evil;

"What!" I exclaimed, now that I understood the danger I was facing;

"What! you don't mean to say you are going to fire with a couple of fowling pieces at a water-spout?"

"What! You can't be serious about shooting at a waterspout with a couple of shotguns?"

"To be sure, Sir," answered D——, giving me a momentary glance that he ventured to take, clandestinely, from the water-spout. "Don't they fire guns to break them?"

"Sure thing, Sir," replied D——, stealing a quick look at me from the water spout. "Don't they use guns to break them?"

"Yes," I replied, "people do,—cannon!"

"Yeah," I replied, "people do—cannon!"

However, I could not get any one to agree with me, that a rifle-ball would have just as much effect on the dispersion of the huge water-spout that boiled and waved, like an elastic tower, to and fro with the wind, and roared in the wake of the yacht, as a sigh would arrest the rotation of Sirius; and so, placing my life in the custody of Providence, I went back to my book, and left my companions standing on the poop with guns [Pg 429]presented, and the whole crew with leaping hearts and open mouths waiting the efficacy of their artillery. I did not hear the discharge of the two guns; but the water-spout kept them in great trepidation, by approaching within a hundred yards of the cutter, and then resolving into its native cloud and water.

However, I couldn't get anyone to agree with me that a rifle bullet would have just as much impact on the huge water spout that boiled and waved like an elastic tower back and forth in the wind, and roared in the yacht’s wake, as a sigh would stop the rotation of Sirius; so, putting my life in the hands of Providence, I went back to my book and left my companions standing on the poop with their guns ready, while the whole crew watched with excitement and anticipation for the effectiveness of their firepower. I didn’t hear the sound of the two guns firing, but the water spout kept them on edge by coming within a hundred yards of the cutter and then dissolving back into its original cloud and water. [Pg 429]

The following day the high lands in the vicinity of Whitby in Yorkshire were seen; and at four o'clock the same afternoon we passed close under the frowning headland, on which the old ruins of the castle stand. A south-west wind appearing desirous to treat us with another gale, we brought up off Scarborough for the night; and notwithstanding the swell which precluded all other boats from intercourse with the shore, we managed to reach the land in a gig, and stretched our legs on English ground again.

The next day, we saw the highlands near Whitby in Yorkshire. At four o'clock that afternoon, we passed right under the ominous headland where the old castle ruins are located. A south-west wind seemed eager to give us another storm, so we anchored off Scarborough for the night. Even though the swell made it impossible for other boats to connect with the shore, we managed to get to land in a small boat and finally stretched our legs on English soil again.

Early in the morning P—— left us for London, fearful that the wind might detain us some time at Scarborough; but five hours after his departure, at mid-day, with a fresh breeze, we got under weigh; and, though the wind continued heading us the whole distance, reached Yarmouth as the clocks in the town were striking eight.

Early in the morning, P—— left us for London, worried that the wind might delay us at Scarborough for a while; however, five hours after he left, around midday, with a fresh breeze, we set sail. Even though the wind was against us the entire way, we arrived in Yarmouth just as the town's clocks were striking eight.

Having made up our minds not to remain more than the night at this place, the cutter lay in the roadstead.

Having decided not to stay more than one night here, the cutter was anchored in the roadstead.

We must have arrived at a moment of some gaiety, for on a terrace facing the sea, a band [Pg 430]was playing, and all the inhabitants had congregated to converse and walk. What a contrast to the country from which we had just come! No man can judge of the superiority of England, whether in the beauty and elegance of its women, the cleanliness of its towns, the multiplicity and aptness of its comforts, but he who has wandered in other parts of the world. Grumblers are domestic; just the same as spoiled brats cry for the very sake of peevishness, because they know not the pain of denial. As I have not much more time to speak, I would, with my last breath, recommend discontented people to travel; but if they should come back in the same fretful condition, well, let them go to——Bath;—no further.

We must have hit a joyful moment because on a terrace facing the sea, a band [Pg 430] was playing, and everyone had gathered to chat and stroll. What a contrast to the countryside we had just left! No one can truly appreciate the advantages of England, whether in the beauty and elegance of its women, the cleanliness of its towns, or the variety and convenience of its comforts, unless they’ve traveled to other parts of the world. Complainers are usually those who’ve never experienced anything else; they’re just like spoiled kids who whine for no reason because they don’t understand the pain of not getting what they want. As I don’t have much time left to talk, I would, with my last breath, urge discontented people to travel; but if they return in the same grumpy state, well, let them go to——Bath;—nothing more.

At six o'clock on the morning of the 12th of August, we sailed from Yarmouth, and at a quarter to seven in the evening, the anchor of the Iris dropped within thirty yards of the pier-head at Erith.

At six o'clock in the morning on August 12th, we left Yarmouth, and at a quarter to seven in the evening, the anchor of the Iris dropped just thirty yards from the pier-head at Erith.

By the first flush of day, taking the early tide, the cutter crept up the familiar, winding River; and while yet I pondered on the reason why I should love my own land, with its yellow sky and puffing toil, better than the pure Heaven and kindly ease of foreign strands, the Hospital of Greenwich lay within the cast of a stone. The crimson flag was waving on the western turret, just as it waved in May, and so, with his two wooden legs projecting at right angles to his body, sat alone, on the [Pg 431]same bench, the lone old pensioner. I seemed to have been sleeping for three months. I felt sad, and knew not why. How ideal is the reality of life! and the inexpressive cause of grief is the consciousness of that truth.

By the first light of day, catching the early tide, the boat moved slowly up the familiar, winding river; and while I thought about why I should love my homeland, with its yellow sky and hard work, more than the clear skies and comforting ease of foreign places, the Hospital of Greenwich was within the throw of a stone. The red flag was flying on the western turret, just like it did in May, and so, with his two wooden legs sticking out at right angles to his body, sat alone on the [Pg 431]same bench, the solitary old pensioner. I felt like I had been asleep for three months. I felt sad, but I didn't know why. How perfect is the reality of life! And the unexplainable reason for sorrow is the awareness of that truth.

The sailors, as they furled the sails, talked of home. The deer and fawn, ceasing to ruminate, viewed their new country with surprise; but Jacko going into Sailor's hutch, begged, without doubt, to know if he might ride through the town on his back; and Greenwich, like Brundusium, was,

The sailors, while they were rolling up the sails, talked about home. The deer and fawn, stopping their grazing, looked around their new land in amazement; meanwhile, Jacko entered the Sailor's hut, clearly eager to find out if he could be ridden through the town on his back; and Greenwich, like Brundusium, was,

"longæ finis chartæque viæque."

"the long end of the road and paper."

As all men are not of the same stature, so their minds differ in the means of accepting knowledge, or entertainment, and to please every one is a difficult thing. To hope, therefore, that I should afford amusement to all who read these pages, would be to aspire for that which has not fallen to the lot of any one; but if out of the incongruity of opinions I have expressed, be they ever so weak, or opposed to each other, instruction may be taken, then I shall not have striven without a result. For me, I have no moral lesson to teach; but by writing, to repeat what I have witnessed, and by that repetition to impart to others those things which, sheltered, though of the same world, by a different sky, and shadowed by other customs, were pleasing to my mind and sight.

As not everyone is built the same, their ways of understanding knowledge or finding entertainment vary too, and it's tough to please everyone. So, hoping that I could provide enjoyment for all who read this would be unrealistic; nobody has ever achieved that. But if from the differing opinions I've shared, no matter how weak or conflicting they might be, some valuable insight can be gained, then my efforts won’t be in vain. I’m not here to teach a moral lesson; rather, I aim to share what I’ve experienced, and through sharing that, pass on those things that, though part of the same world, were shaped by different perspectives and influenced by other customs, which I found enjoyable.

[Pg 432]My task is done; and, like a dream, is dreamt the recollection of human things already changed and ever changing. The remembrance of the interesting country through which I have been travelling shall abide by me always; for, encouraged by the desire to speak and muse, as I do now, of the hardy, freely happy, and contented sons of its mountains, I first learned that no greater blessing could be granted than a life of honourable industry, and that, pine who might beneath the infliction of mental or bodily exertion, I had known the exalted destiny of creation in the effort to be useful. Like an exile turning to take a last glance at the blue outlines of his native land, I, too, have lingered to look back; yet the pleasant retrospection of three happy months is at an end; and I now dream of its delight as one who feels that, in the swift transition of existence, such peace of mind can never come again.

[Pg 432]My task is complete; and, like a dream, I remember the human experiences that have already changed and continue to change. The memories of the fascinating country I’ve traveled through will always stay with me; for, driven by the urge to talk and reflect, as I do now, about the resilient, freely happy, and content sons of its mountains, I first realized that no greater blessing can be bestowed than a life of honorable work. No matter who may suffer from the burden of mental or physical effort, I have known the high purpose of existence in striving to be useful. Like an exile taking a last look at the distant outline of his homeland, I, too, have paused to glance back; yet the pleasant memories of three joyful months have come to an end; and I now cherish its joy as someone who knows that, in the rapid changes of life, such peace of mind may never return.





THE END.





LONDON:
PRINTED BY T. R. HARRISON, 45, ST. MARTIN'S LANE.




13, Great Marlborough Street.[Pg 1]
MR. COLBURN'S LIST OF NEW WORKS.
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LIVES OF THE PRINCESSES OF ENGLAND,
By Mrs. EVERETT GREEN,
EDITOR OF THE "LETTERS OF ROYAL AND ILLUSTRIOUS LADIES."
2 vols., post 8vo., with Illustrations, 21s. bound.
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OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.
      "A most agreeable book, forming a meet companion for the work of Miss Strickland, to which, indeed, it is an indispensable addition. The authoress, already favourably known to the learned world by her excellent collection of 'Letters of Royal and Illustrious Ladies,' has executed her task with great skill and fidelity. Every page displays careful research and accuracy. There is a graceful combination of sound, historical erudition, with an air of romance and adventure that is highly pleasing, and renders the work at once an agreeable companion of the boudoir, and a valuable addition to the historical library. Mrs. Green has entered upon an untrodden path, and gives to her biographies an air of freshness and novelty very alluring. The present volumes (including the Lives of twenty-five Princesses) carry us from the daughters of the Conqueror to the family of Edward I.—a highly interesting period, replete with curious illustrations of the genius and manners of the Middle Ages. Such works, from the truthfulness of their spirit, furnish a more lively picture of the tunes than even the graphic, though delusive, pencil of Scott and James." —Britannia.
      "The vast utility of the task undertaken by the gifted author of this interesting book can only be equalled by the skill, ingenuity, and research required for its accomplishment. The field Mrs. Green has selected is an untrodden one. Mrs. Green, on giving to the world a work which will enable us to arrive at a correct idea of the private histories and personal characters of the royal ladies of England, has done sufficient to entitle her to the respect and gratitude of the country. The labour of her task was exceedingly great, involving researches, not only into English records and chronicles, but into those of almost every civilised country in Europe. The style of Mrs. Green is admirable. She has a fine perception of character and manners, a penetrating spirit of observation, and singular exactness of judgment. The memoirs are richly fraught with the spirit of romantic adventure."—Morning Post.
      "This work is a worthy companion to Miss Strickland's admirable 'Queens of England.' In one respect the subject-matter of these volumes is more interesting, because it is more diversified than that of the 'Queens of England.' That celebrated work, although its heroines were, for the most part, foreign Princesses, related almost entirely to the history of this country. The Princesses of England, on the contrary, are themselves English, but their lives are nearly all connected with foreign nations. Their biographies, consequently, afford us a glimpse of the manners and customs of the chief European kingdoms, a circumstance which not only gives to the work the charm of variety, but which is likely to render it peculiarly useful to the general reader, as it links together by association the contemporaneous history of various nations. The histories are related with an earnest simplicity and copious explicitness. The reader is informed without being wearied, and alternately enlivened by some spirited description, or touched by some pathetic or tender episode. We cordially commend Mrs. Everett Green's production to general attention; it is (necessarily) as useful as history, and fully as entertaining as romance."—Sun.
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[Pg 2]THE FOLLOWING WILL BE PUBLISHED IMMEDIATELY.
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A NEW HISTORICAL ROMANCE.
BY ELIOT WARBURTON, Esq.,
Author of "The Crescent and the Cross." &c. 3 vols.
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MEMOIRS OF A HUNGARIAN LADY
BY THERESA PULSZKY.
With an Historical Introduction, by Francis Pulszky, late Under Secretary of State to
the Emperor Ferdinand and King of Hungary.
2 vols., post 8vo., 21s. bound. (Now ready.)
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THE LIFE AND REIGN OF CHARLES I.
BY J. DISRAELI.
A NEW AND IMPROVED EDITION, with a Preface by B. DISRAELI, M.P.
2 vols., uniform with the "Curiosities of Literature."
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HISTORIC SCENES.
BY AGNES STRICKLAND.
Author of "Lives of the Queens of England," &c.
1 vol., post 8vo, elegantly bound, with Portrait of the Author.
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LONDON LITERARY SOCIETY
IN THE DAYS OF SAMUEL JOHNSON.
FROM THE PAPERS OF THE LATE HENRY ROSCOE.
BY WILLIAM WEIR.
2 vols., post 8vo.
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LEAVES FROM A LADY'S DIARY
OF HER TRAVELS IN BARBARY.
2 vols., post 8vo.
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FRESTON TOWER;
OR, THE EARLY DAYS OF CARDINAL WOLSEY.
BY THE REV. RICHARD COBBOLD.
3 vols., post 8vo., with Illustrations.
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[Pg 3]A CHEAPER EDITION OF
BURKE'S
HISTORY OF THE LANDED GENTRY;
FOR 1850.
A Genealogical Dictionary
OF THE WHOLE OF THE UNTITLED ARISTOCRACY OFM
ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, AND IRELAND:
And comprising Particulars of 100,000 Individuals connected with them.
CORRECTED TO THE PRESENT TIME.
A COMPANION TO ALL THE PEERAGES.
In 2 volumes, royal 8vo., beautifully printed in double columns, comprising more matter than 30 ordinary volumes, price only 2l. 2s. elegantly bound in gilt morocco cloth.
⁂ The great cost (upwards of £6000) attending the production of this National Work, the first of its kind, induces the Publisher to hope that the heads of all Families recorded in its pages will supply themselves with copies.
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      The Landed Gentry of England are so closely connected with the stirring records of its eventful history, that some acquaintance with them is a matter of necessity with the legislator, the lawyer, the historical student, the speculator in politics, and the curious in topographical and antiquarian lore; and even the very spirit of ordinary curiosity will prompt to a desire to trace the origin and progress of those families whose influence pervades the towns and villages of our land. This work furnishes such a mass of authentic information in regard to all the principal families in the kingdom as has never before been attempted to be brought together. It relates to the untitled families of rank, as the "Peerage and Baronetage" does to the titled, and forms, in fact, a peerage of the untitled aristocracy. It embraces the whole of the landed interest, and is indispensable to the library of every gentleman.
      "A work of this kind is of a national value. Its utility is not merely temporary, but it will exist and be acknowledged as long as the families whose names and genealogies are recorded in it continue to form an integral portion of the English constitution. As a correct record of descent, no family should be without it. The untitled aristocracy have in this great work as perfect a dictionary of their genealogical history, family connexions, and heraldic rights, as the peerage and baronetage. It will be an enduring and trustworthy record."—Morning Post.
      "A work in which every gentleman will find a domestic interest, as it contains the fullest account of every known family in the United Kingdom. It is a dictionary of all names, families, and their origin,—of every man's neighbour and friend, if not of his own relatives and immediate connexions. It cannot fail to be of the greatest utility to professional men in their researches respecting the members of different families, heirs to property, &c. Indeed, it will become as necessary as a Directory in every office."—Bell's Messenger.
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[Pg 4]DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE
OF
SAMUEL PEPYS, F.R.S.,
SECRETARY TO THE ADMIRALTY IN THE REIGNS OF CHARLES II. AND JAMES II.
EDITED BY LORD BRAYBROOKE.
New and Revised Edition, with numerous Passages now restored from the Original Manuscript, and many Additional Notes, complete in 5 vols., post 8vo., with Portraits, &c., price 10s. 6d. each, elegantly bound in French Morocco with gilt edges.
      "These volumes of Pepys' famous Journal, in their present complete form, contain much attractive novelty. Without making any exception in favour of any other production of ancient or modern diarists, we unhesitatingly characterise this journal as the most remarkable production of its kind which has ever been given to the world. Pepys paints the Court, the Monarchs, and the times, in more vivid colours than any one else. His Diary makes us comprehend the great historical events of the age, and the people who bore a part in them, and gives us more clear glimpses into the true English life of the times than all the other memorials of them that have come down to our own."— Edinburgh Review.
      "The best book of its kind in the English language. The new matter is extremely curious, and occasionally far more characteristic and entertaining than the old. The writer is seen in a clearer light, and the reader is taken into his inmost soul. Pepys' Diary is the ablest picture of the age in which the writer lived, and a work of standard importance in English literature."—Athenæum.
      "There is much in Pepys' Diary that throws a distinct and vivid light over the picture of England and its government during the period succeeding the Restoration. If, quitting the broad path of history, we look for minute information concerning ancient manners and customs, the progress of arts and sciences, and the various branches of antiquity, we have never seen a mine so rich as these volumes. The variety of Pepys' tastes and pursuits led him into almost every department of life. He was a man of business, a man of information, a man of whim, and, to a certain degree, a man of pleasure. He was a statesman, a bel-esprit, a virtuoso, and a connoisseur. His curiosity made him an unwearied, as well as an universal, learner, and whatever he saw found its way into his tables."—Quarterly Review.
      "We owe Pepys a debt of gratitude for the rare and curious information he has bequeathed to us in this most amusing and interesting work. His Diary is valuable, as depicting to us many of the most important characters of the times. Its author has bequeathed us the records of his heart, the very reflection of his energetic mind; and his quaint but happy narrative clears up numerous disputed points, throws light into many of the dark corners of history, and lays bare the hidden substratum of events which gave birth to, and supported the visible progress of, the nation."—Tait's Magazine.
      "Of all the records that have ever been published, Pepys' Diary gives us the most vivid and trustworthy picture of the times, and the clearest view of the state of English public affairs and of English society during the reign of Charles II. We see there, as in a map, the vices of the Monarch, the intrigues of the Cabinet, the wanton follies of the Court, and the many calamities to which the nation was subjected during the memorable period of fire, plague, and general licentiousness. In the present edition all the suppressed passages have been restored, and a large amount of valuable explanatory notes have been added. Thus this third edition stands alone as the only complete one. Lord Braybrooke has efficiently performed the duties of editor and annotator, and has conferred a lasting favour on the public by giving them Pepys' Diary in its integrity."—Morning Post.
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[Pg 5]DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE
OF
JOHN EVELYN, F.R.S.,
Author of the "Sylva," &c.
A NEW EDITION, REVISED AND ENLARGED WITH NUMEROUS ADDITIONAL NOTES.
UNIFORM WITH THE NEW EDITION OF PEPYS' DIARY.
In 4 vols., post 8vo., price 10s. 6d. each, with Illustrations.
N.B.—The First Two Volumes, comprising "The Diary," are now ready.
The Diary and Correspondence of John Evelyn has long been regarded as an invaluable record of opinions and events, as well as the most interesting exposition we possess of the manners, taste, learning, and religion of this country, during the latter half of the seventeenth century. The Diary comprises observations on the politics, literature, and science of his age, during his travels in France and Italy; his residence in England towards the latter part of the Protectorate, and his connexion with the Courts of Charles II. and the two subsequent reigns, interspersed with a vast number of original anecdotes of the most celebrated persons of that period. To the Diary is subjoined the Correspondence of Evelyn with many of his distinguished contemporaries; also Original Letters from Sir Edward Nicholas, private secretary to King Charles I., during some important periods of that reign, with the King's answers; and numerous letters from Sir Edward Hyde (Lord Clarendon) to Sir Edward Nicholas, and to Sir Richard Brown, Ambassador to France, during the exile of the British Court.
      A New Edition of this interesting work having been long demanded, the greatest pains have been taken to render it as complete as possible, by a careful re-examination of the original Manuscript, and by illustrating it with such annotations as will make the reader more conversant with the numerous subjects referred to by the Diarist.
      "It has been justly observed that as long as Virtue and Science hold their abode in this island, the memory of Evelyn will be held in the utmost veneration. Indeed, no change of fashion, no alteration of taste, no revolution of science, have impaired, or can impair, his celebrity. The youth who looks forward to an inheritance which he is under no temptation to increase, will do well to bear the example of Evelyn in his mind, as containing nothing but what is imitable, and nothing but what is good. All persons, indeed, may find in his character something for imitation, but for an English gentleman he is the perfect model."—Quarterly Review.
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[Pg 6]ANECDOTES OF THE ARISTOCRACY,
AND
EPISODES IN ANCESTRAL STORY.
By J. BERNARD BURKE, Esq.,
Author of "The History of the Landed Gentry," "The Peerage and Baronetage," &c.
Second Edition, 2 vols., post 8vo., 24s. bound.
      The memoirs of our great families are replete with details of the most striking and romantic interest, throwing light on the occurrences of public as well as domestic life, and elucidating the causes of many important national events. How little of the personal history of the Aristocracy is generally known, and yet how full of amusement is the subject! Almost every eminent family has some event connected with its rise or greatness, some curious tradition interwoven with its annals, or some calamity casting a gloom over the brilliancy of its achievements, which cannot fail to attract the attention of that sphere of society to which this work more particularly refers, and must equally interest the general reader, with whom, in this country, the records of the higher classes have always possessed a peculiar attraction. The anecdotes of the Aristocracy here recorded go far to show that there are more marvels in real life than in the creations of fiction. Let the reader seek romance in whatever book, and at whatever period he may, yet nought will he find to surpass the unexaggerated reality here unfolded.
      "Mr. Burke has here given us the most curious incidents, the most stirring tales, and the most remarkable circumstances connected with the histories, public and private, of our noble houses and aristocratic families, and has put them into a shape which will preserve them in the library, and render them the favourite study of those who are interested in the romance of real life. These stories, with all the reality of established fact, read with as much spirit as the tales of Boccaccio, and are as full of strange matter for reflection, and amazement."—Britannia.
      "Two of the most interesting volumes that have ever issued from the press. There are no less than one hundred and twenty-three of the most stirring and captivating family episodes we ever remember to have perused. The 'Anecdotes of the Aristocracy' will be read from the palace to the hamlet; and no one can rise from these volumes without deriving a useful knowledge of some chapter of family history, each connected with one or other of the great houses of the kingdom."— British Army Despatch.
      "We cannot estimate too highly the interest of Mr. Burke's entertaining and instructive work. For the curious nature of the details, the extraordinary anecdotes related, the strange scenes described, it would be difficult to find a parallel for it. It will be read by every one."—Sunday Times.
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[Pg 7]COMPLETION OF THE
LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
BY AGNES STRICKLAND.
DEDICATED, BY PERMISSION, TO HER MAJESTY.
      The 11th and Twelfth Volumes, completing this interesting Work, being now published, Purchasers are recommended to give immediate orders to their Booksellers for the completion of their sets, to prevent disappointment.
      "These volumes have the fascination of a romance united to the integrity of history. The work is written by a lady of considerable learning, indefatigable industry, and careful judgment. All these qualifications for a biographer and an historian she has brought to bear upon the subject of her volumes, and from them has resulted a narrative interesting to all, and more particularly interesting to that portion of the community to whom the more refined researches of literature afford pleasure and instruction. The whole work should be read, and no doubt will be read, by all who are anxious for information. It is a lucid arrangement of facts, derived, from authentic sources, exhibiting a combination of industry, learning, judgment, and impartiality, not often met with in biographers of crowned heads."—Times.
      "This remarkable, this truly great historical work, is now brought to a conclusion. In this series of biographies, in which the severe truth of history takes almost the wildness of romance, it is the singular merit of Miss Strickland that her research has enabled her to throw new light on many doubtful passages, to bring forth fresh facts, and to render every portion of our annals which she has described an interesting and valuable study. She has given a most valuable contribution to the history of England, and we have no hesitation in affirming that no one can be said to possess an accurate knowledge of the history of the country who has not studied her 'Lives of the Queens of England.'"— Morning Herald.
      "A most valuable and entertaining work. There is certainly no lady of our day who has devoted her pen to so beneficial a purpose as Miss Strickland. Nor is there any other whose works possess a deeper or more enduring interest. Miss Strickland is to our mind the first literary lady of the age."—Chronicle.
      "We must pronounce Miss Strickland beyond all comparison the most entertaining historian in the English language. She is certainly a woman of powerful and active mind, as well as of scrupulous justice and honesty of purpose."—Morning Post.
      "Miss Strickland has made a very judicious use of many authentic MS. authorities not previously collected, and the result is a most interesting addition to our biographical library."—Quarterly Review.
      "A valuable contribution to historical knowledge. It contains a mass of every kind of historical matter of interest, which industry and research could collect. We have derived much entertainment and instruction from the work."—Athenæum.
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[Pg 8]KING ARTHUR.
By SIR E. BULWER LYTTON, Bart.,
Author of "The New Timon."
Second Edition, 1 vol., post 8vo., 10s. 6d. bound.
      "King Arthur aims at relating one of the most fascinating of all national and chivalrous legends. It is a valuable addition to the poetical treasures of our language, and we regard it as not only worthy, but likely, to take its place among those fine, though not faultless performances which will hereafter represent the poetical literature of England in the first half of the nineteenth century. The author is, we think, right in believing this to be the least perishable monument of his genius."—Edinburgh Review.
      "This grand epic of 'King Arthur' must henceforth be ranked amongst our national masterpieces. In it we behold the crowning achievement of the author's life. His ambition cannot rise to a greater altitude. He has accomplished that which once had its seductions for the deathless and majestic mind of Milton. He has now assumed a place among the kings of English poetry."—Sun.
      "We see in 'King Arthur' a consummate expression of most of those higher powers of mind and thought which have been steadily and progressively developed in Sir Bulwer Lytton's writings. Its design is a lofty one, and through all its most varied extremes evenly sustained. It comprises a national and a religious interest. It animates with living truth, with forms and faces familiar to all men, the dim figures of legendary lore. It has an earnest moral purpose, never lightly forgotten or thrown aside. It is remarkable for the deep and extensive knowledge it displays, and for the practical lessons of life and history which it reflects in imaginative form. We have humour and wit, often closely bordering on pathos and tragedy; exploits of war, of love, and of chivalrous adventure, alternate with the cheerful lightness and pleasantry of la gaie science." —Examiner.
      "The great national subject of 'King Arthur,' which Milton for a long time hesitated whether he should not choose in preference to that of the 'Fall of Man,' has been at last in our own day treated in a way which we think will place 'King Arthur' among the most remarkable works of genius. It will be the delight of many future generations. It is one of the most entrancing poems we have ever read; full of great and rare ideas— conceived in the plenary spirit of all-believing romance—strange and wonderful in incident—national through and through—a real plant of this soil, so purely the tree of England's antiquity that we love it for kind's sake."—Morning Post.
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THE NEW TIMON:
A POETICAL ROMANCE.
4th Edition, 1 vol., post 8vo., 6s. bound.
"One of the most remarkable poems of the present generation."—Sun.
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[Pg 9]THE REV. R. MILMAN'S
LIFE OF TASSO.
2 vols., post 8vo., 21s. bound.
      "The present work, from the touching interest of its subject, is likely to be extensively read."—Athenæum.
      "Mr. Milman's biography is a very good one. The work will find a place in every library."—Britannia.
      "A most valuable addition to our literary treasures—fraught with deep and thrilling interest."—Morning Post.
      "Mr. Milman's Memoir of Tasso is a work of considerable interest; entering fully into the particulars of the great poet's life, and giving a general review of his works."—John Bull.
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MEMOIR AND CORRESPONDENCE
OF
SIR ROBERT MURRAY KEITH, K.B.,
Minister Plenipotentiary at the Courts of Dresden, Copenhagen, and Vienna,
from 1769 to 1793; with

Biographical Memoirs of Queen Caroline Matilda, Sister of George III.
Edited by Mrs. Gillespie Smyth.
2 vols., post 8vo., with Portraits, 25s. bound.
      Sir Robert Murray Keith, it will be recollected, was one of the ablest diplomatists of the last century, and held the post of Ambassador at the Court of Copenhagen, when Caroline Matilda, Queen of Denmark, the unfortunate sister of George III., was involved in the conspiracy of Struensee, and was only saved from the severest punishment her vindictive enemy the Queen Mother could inflict, by the spirited interposition of the British Ambassador. Sir Robert Keith also for a long period represented his Sovereign at the Courts of Dresden and Vienna; and his papers, edited by a member of his family, throw considerable light on the diplomatic history of the reign of George III., besides conveying many curious particulars of the great men and events of the period. Among the variety of interesting documents comprised in these volumes, will be found—Letters from Frederick, King of Prussia; Caroline Matilda, Queen of Denmark; Princes Ferdinand of Brunswick, Kaunitz, and Czartoriski; the Dukes of Cumberland, York, Queensbury, Montagu, and Newcastle; Lords Stormont, St. Asaph, Heathfield, Hardwicke, Darlington, Auckland, Apsley, Barrington, Stair; Counts Bentinck and Rosenberg; Baron Trenck; Field-Marshals Conway and Keith; Sirs Walter Scott, Joseph Yorke, Nathaniel Wraxall, John Sebright; Dr. Robertson, Mr. Pitt, Howard, Mrs. Piozzi, Mrs. Montagu, &c., &c.
      "A large portion of this important and highly interesting work consists of letters, that we venture to say will bear a comparison for sterling wit, lively humour, entertaining gossip, piquant personal anecdotes, and brilliant pictures of social life, in its highest phases, both at home and abroad, with those of Horace Walpole himself."—Court Journal.
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[Pg 10]THE HISTORY OF CIVILISATION,
AND PUBLIC OPINION,
By W. A. MACKINNON, M.P., F.R.S., &c.
Third and Cheaper Edition, 2 vols. 8vo., 21s., bound.
      "Mr. Mackinnon's valuable 'History of Civilisation' is a vast repertory of knowledge that we could wish to see universally circulated throughout the country, as tending to convey information that is much required, and of which too many are deficient."—Morning Herald.
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REVELATIONS OF PRINCE TALLEYRAND.
Edited from the Papers of the late M. COLMACHE,
THE PRINCE'S PRIVATE SECRETARY.
Second Edition, 1 volume, post 8vo., with Portrait, 10s. 6d. bound.
      "A more interesting work has not issued from the press for many years. It is in truth a complete Boswell sketch of the greatest diplomatist of the age."—Sunday Times.
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COLBURN'S AUTHORISED TRANSLATION.
Now ready, Volume 9, price 7s., of
M. A. THIERS' HISTORY
OF
THE CONSULATE AND THE EMPIRE.
A SEQUEL TO HIS HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION.
      Having filled at different times the high offices of Minister of the Interior, of Finance, of Foreign Affairs, and President of the Council, M. Thiers has enjoyed facilities beyond the reach of every other biographer of Napoleon for procuring, from exclusive and authentic sources, the choicest materials for his present work. As guardian to the archives of the state, he had access to diplomatic papers and other documents of the highest importance, hitherto known only to a privileged few, and the publication of which cannot fail to produce a great sensation. From private sources, M. Thiers, it appears, has also derived much valuable information. Many interesting memoirs, diaries, and letters, all hitherto unpublished, and most of them destined for political reasons to remain so, have been placed at his disposal; while all the leading characters of the empire, who were alive when the author undertook the present history, have supplied him with a mass of incidents and anecdotes which have never before appeared in print, and the accuracy and value of which may be inferred from the fact of these parties having been themselves eye-witnesses of, or actors in, the great events of the period.
⁂ To prevent disappointment, the public are requested to be particular in giving their orders for "Colburn's Official Translation."
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[Pg 11]BURKE'S PEERAGE AND BARONETAGE;
CORRECTED THROUGHOUT FROM THE PERSONAL COMMUNICATIONS
OF THE NOBILITY, &c.
In 1 vol. (comprising as much matter as twenty ordinary volumes), with
upwards of 1500 Engravings of Arms, &c., 38s. bound.
      "Mr. Burke's 'Peerage and Baronetage' is the most complete, the most convenient and the cheapest work of the kind ever offered to the public."—Sun.
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DIARY AND MEMOIRS OF SOPHIA DOROTHEA,
CONSORT OF GEORGE I.
Now first published from the Originals.
Cheaper Edition, 2 vols., 8vo., with Portrait, 21s. bound.
      "A work abounding in the romance of real life."—Messenger.
      "A book of marvellous revelations, establishing beyond all doubt the perfect innocence of the beautiful, highly-gifted, and inhumanly-treated Sophia Dorothea."—Naval and Military Gazette.
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LETTERS OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS.
Edited, with an Historical Introduction and Notes,
By AGNES STRICKLAND.
Cheaper Edition, with numerous Additions, uniform with Miss Strickland's
"Lives of the Queens of England." 2 vols., post 8vo., with Portrait, &c., 21s. bound.
      "The best collection of authentic memorials relative to the Queen of Scots that has ever appeared."—Morning Chronicle.
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MEMOIRS OF MADEMOISELLE DE MONTPENSIER.
Written by HERSELF.
3 volumes, post 8vo., with Portrait.
      "One of the most delightful and deeply-interesting works we have read for a long time."—Weekly Chronicle.
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LADY BLESSINGTON'S JOURNAL
OF HER CONVERSATIONS WITH LORD BYRON.
Cheaper Edition, in 8vo., embellished with Portraits of
Lady Blessington and Lord Byron, price only 7s. bound.
      "The best thing that has been written on Lord Byron."—Spectator.
      "Universally acknowledged to be delightful. "—Athenæum.
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[Pg 12]NARRATIVE
OF
AN OVERLAND JOURNEY ROUND THE WORLD,
By SIR GEORGE SIMPSON,
Governor-in-Chief of the Hudson's Bay Company's Territories
in North America.

2 vols., 8vo., with Map, &c., 31s. 6d. bound.
      "A more valuable or instructive work, or one more full of perilous adventure and heroic enterprise, we have never met with."— John Bull.
      "It deserves to be a standard work in all libraries, and it will become so."—Messenger.
      "The countries of which this work gives us a new knowledge are probably destined to act with great power on our interests, some as the rivals of our commerce, some as the depôts of our manufactures, and some as the recipients of that overflow of population which Europe is now pouring out from all her fields on the open wilderness of the world."—Blackwood's Magazine.
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MR. ROSS' YACHT VOYAGE
TO
DENMARK, NORWAY, AND SWEDEN,
IN LORD RODNEY'S CUTTER "THE IRIS."
Second Edition, 1 vol., 10s. 6d. bound.
      "There is not a sporting man in the country who could peruse these volumes without deriving a considerable amount of pleasure and profit from their pages. No one should think of visiting Norway, Denmark, or Sweden, without consulting them."—Era.
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FIVE YEARS IN KAFFIRLAND:
WITH SKETCHES OF
THE LATE WAR IN THAT COUNTRY.
By MRS. HARRIET WARD
(Wife of Captain Ward, 91st Regiment).
Second Edition, 2 vols., post 8vo., with Portraits of Col. Somerset,
the Kaffir Chief Sandilla, &c., 21s. bound.
      "Mrs. Ward's narrative is one of deep interest, full of exciting adventures and wild and graphic descriptions of scenes the most extraordinary which could be presented to the eyes of a traveller."—Sunday Times.
      "The fullest, clearest, and most impartial account of the Cape of Good Hope and of the recent war, that has yet come before the public." —Naval and Military Gazette.
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[Pg 13]THE CRESCENT AND THE CROSS;
OR,
ROMANCE AND REALITIES OF EASTERN TRAVEL.
By ELIOT B. G. WARBURTON, Esq.
7th Edition, 2 vols., with numerous Illustrations, 21s. bound.
      "Independently of its value as an original narrative, and its useful and interesting information, this work is remarkable for the colouring power and play of fancy with which its descriptions are enlivened. Among its greatest and most lasting charms is its reverent and serious spirit."—Quarterly Review.
      "We could not recommend a better book as a travelling companion."—United Service Magazine.
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HOCHELAGA;
OR,
ENGLAND IN THE NEW WORLD.
Edited by ELIOT WARBURTON, Esq.,
Author of "The Crescent and the Cross."
3rd Edition, 2 vols., post 8vo., with Illustrations, 21s. bound.
      "We recommend 'Hochelaga' most heartily, in case any of our readers may as yet be unacquainted with it."—Quarterly Review.
      "This work has already reached a third edition. We shall be surprised if it do not go through many. It possesses almost every qualification of a good book—grace, variety, and vigour of style—a concentrated power of description, which has all the effect of elaborate painting—information carefully collected and judiciously communicated—sound and enlarged views of important questions—a hearty and generous love of country—and the whole pervaded by a refined but sometimes caustic humour, which imparts a constant attraction to its pages. We can cordially recommend it to our readers, as well for the amusement of its lighter portions, the vivid brilliancy of its descriptions, and the solid information it contains respecting Canada, and the position generally of England in the new world."—John Bull.
——————————
LORD LINDSAY'S LETTERS ON THE HOLY LAND.
4th Edition, revised and corrected, 1 vol., post 8vo., 7s. 6d. bound.
      "Lord Lindsay has felt and recorded what he saw with the wisdom of a philosopher, and the faith of an enlightened Christian." —Quarterly Review.
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[Pg 14]SIR JAMES ALEXANDER'S ACADIE;
OR, SEVEN YEARS' EXPLORATION OF CANADA, &c.
2 vols., post 8vo., with numerous Illustrations, 21s. bound.
      "Replete with valuable information on Canada for the English settler, the English soldier, and the English Government; with various charms of adventure and description for the desultory reader."—Morning Chronicle.
      "No other writer on Canada can compare with the gallant author of the present volume in the variety and interest of his narrative." —John Bull.
——————————
STORY OF THE PENINSULAR WAR.
A COMPANION VOLUME TO MR. GLEIG'S
"STORY OF THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO."
With six Portraits and Map, 7s. 6d. bound.
      "Every page of this work is fraught with undying interest. We needed such a book as this; one that could give to the rising generation of soldiers a clear notion of the events which led to the expulsion of the French from the Peninsula."—United Service Gazette.
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LADY LISTER KAYE'S BRITISH HOMES
AND FOREIGN WANDERINGS.
2 vols., post 8vo., 21s. bound.
      "Unrivalled as these volumes are, considered as portfolios of aristocratic sketches, they are not less interesting on account of the romantic history with which the sketches are interwoven."—John Bull.
——————————
THE NEMESIS IN CHINA;
COMPRISING A COMPLETE
HISTORY OF THE WAR IN THAT COUNTRY;
With a Particular Account of the Colony of Hong Kong.
From Notes of Captain W. H. HALL. R.N., and Personal Observations
by W. D. BERNARD, Esq., A.M., Oxon.
Budget Edition, with a new Introduction, 1 vol.,
with Maps and Plates, 10s. 6d. bound.
      "Capt. Hall's narrative of the services of the Nemesis is full of interest, and will, we are sure, be valuable hereafter, as affording most curious materials for the history of steam navigation."—Quarterly Review.
      "A work which will take its place beside that of Captain Cook."—Weekly Chronicle.
——————————
ADVENTURES OF A GOLDFINDER.
WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.
3 vols., post 8vo.
                "What is here?
Gold? yellow, glittering, precious gold?"
                  Timon of Athens.
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[Pg 15]MR. DISRAELI'S CONINGSBY.
CPILE SSTANDARD EDITION, WITH A NEW PINTRO.
In 1 vol., with Portrait, 6s. bound.
      "We are glad to see that the finest work of Disraeli has been sent out in the same shape as those of Dickens, Bulwer, and other of our best novelists, at such a price as to place them within the reach of the most moderate means. Coningsby has passed from the popularity of a season to an enduring reputation as a standard work. It is not merely as a novel, however, that Coningsby is interesting, but as a popular exposition of the author's political ideas. It is a valuable contribution to popular literature."—Weekly Chronicle.
——————————
A NEW SYSTEM OF GEOLOGY.
BY THE
VERY REV. WILLIAM COCKBURN, D.D., DEAN OF YORK.
Dedicated to Professor Sedgwick.
Small 8vo., price 3s. 6d.
——————————
ZOOLOGICAL RECREATIONS.
By W. J. BRODERIP, Esq., F.R.S.
Budget Version, 1 vol., post 8vo., 7s. 6d. bound.
      "We believe we do not exaggerate in saying that, since the publication of White's 'Natural History of Selborne,' and of the 'Introduction to Entomology,' by Kirby and Spence, no work in our language is better calculated than the 'Zoological Recreations' to fulfil the avowed aim of its author—to furnish a hand-book which may cherish or awaken a love for natural history."— Quarterly Review.
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THE OLD JUDGE; OR, LIFE IN A COLONY.
By the Author of "Sam Slick, the Clockmaker;" &c.
2 vols., post 8vo., 21s. bound.
      "These volumes are redolent of the hearty fun and strong masculine sense of our old friend Sam Slick. The last work of Mr. Haliburton is quite equal to the first. Every page of the 'Old Judge' is alive with rapid, fresh sketches of character; droll, quaint, racy sayings; good-humoured practical jokes; and capitally told anecdotes."—Morning Chronicle.
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ADVENTURES OF A GREEK LADY,
THE ADOPTED DAUGHTER OF THE LATE QUEEN CAROLINE.
Written by Herself. 2 vols., post 8vo., 21s. bound.
      "The chief interest of this more than ordinarily interesting book lies in the notices it furnishes of the unfortunate Queen Caroline. From the close of 1814 till Her Royal Highness's return to England the author was never absent from her for a single day. All is humourously and artlessly told, and the plain truth finds its way at once to the reader's heart and feelings."—Court Journal.
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[Pg 16]POPULAR NEW NOVELS AND ROMANCES.
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THE WILMINGTONS.
By the Author of "Emilia Wyndham," "Mordaunt Hall," &c. 3 vols.
      "It argues well for the character of a people when, in their popular literature, the good is ever found in association with the beautiful; and we regard the eminent success of this author's works as a very favourable attestation of the soundness of our public opinion. The author is indisputably a writer of true genius and of great power, but is also one who dedicates high endowments to the service of Him who has given them. The popularity of such a writer is creditable to a people— the productions of such a writer must necessarily exert a beneficial influence over a people prepared to prize them. They all bear the impress of sterling English morality—all minister to generous emotions, generous scorn of what is base, generous admiration of excellence; and all inculcate respect for principle, by which emotions ought to be governed —all minister to the exaltation of justice."—Dublin University Magazine.
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PRIDE AND IRRESOLUTION.
By the Author of
"THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE."
3 volumes.
——————————
LEONARD NORMANDALE;
OR, THE THREE BROTHERS.
By the Honorable C. Stuart Savile.
3 volumes.
——————————
THE PETREL.
A TALE OF THE SEA.
By a Naval Officer. 3 vols.
      "The best nautical novel which has appeared for a long time. It cannot fail to remind the reader of the best tales of Captain Marryat." —Britannia.
      "This story possesses an attraction which is all engrossing. Admiral Fisher has proved by this tale that he can use his pen with no contemptible skill."—Dispatch.
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ERNEST VANE.
BY ALEX. BAILLIE COCHRANE, M.P.
2 volumes.
      "'Ernest Vane' is of high merit as a production of genius. The work is in parts, surpassing beautiful. It is rich in imagery, almost exhaustless in observation. It deals with passion in its intensity, and not unseldom penetrates the darkest recesses of the human heart. Its pages abound with brilliancy of thought and depth of feeling."—Morning Post.
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SIN AND SORROW.
A TALE.
2 vols. (just ready.)
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PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF
Mrs. MARGARET MAITLAND,
OF SUNNYSIDE.
Written by herself. 3 vols.
      "The most gratifying work of its class since the great delineator of Scottish manners ceased to exist."—Tait's Magazine.
      "This work has given us much pleasure. Mrs. Maitland might claim cousinship with the Rev. Micah Balwhidder."—Athenæum.
      "Our readers will enjoy this work—its genuine nationality of tone and sentiment, its refined and poetic homeliness, and its strokes of quiet humour. The author may be described as a refined or feminine Galt. In the pathetic element we are not unfrequently reminded of Wilson's 'Lights and Shadows.'"—Scotsman.
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THE MAID OF ORLEANS.
By the Author of "Whitefriars," "Owen Tudor," &c. 3 vols.
      "An excellent novel. The character of the 'Maid of Orleans' is drawn with a glow and fervour, a mixture of elevation and simplicity, which are alike powerful and attractive."—Athenæum.
      "A romance of surpassing interest, rarely equalled for vigour, brilliancy, pathos, and dignity of style."—Weekly Chronicle.
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The OLD WORLD and the NEW.
By Mrs. Trollope. 3 vols.
      "In all respects one of the very cleverest and interesting novels of the day."—Herald.
      "A very clever novel, presenting in marked contrast the 'Old World and the New' during the eventful epoch out of which we are emerging." —Post.
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ROCKINGHAM;
OR, THE YOUNGER BROTHER.
Second Edition. 3 vols.
      "We beg to call our readers' attention to 'Rockingham; or, the Younger Brother,' a book which, from internal evidence, must have been written by a person constantly mingling in the highest English society. The work abounds in interest, and, indeed, we should be at a loss to name another recent novel that shows anything like the same power of painting strong passion."—Quarterly Review.
——————————
THE MIDNIGHT SUN.
BY FREDRIKA BREMER.
Translated by Mary Howitt. 1 vol. 10s. 6d.
——————————
THE HALL & THE HAMLET.
By William Howitt.
Cheaper Edition. 2 vols., 12s. bound.




Transcriber's Note

Translator's Note


Some inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document has been preserved.

Typographical errors corrected in the text:

Page    vii   Fæde changed to Fædde
Page      1   sympathize changed to sympathise
Page    12   galf-topsail changed to gaff-topsail
Page    13   horison changed to horizon
Page    41   ecstacies changed to ecstasies
Page    42   held changed to help
Page    46   underweigh changed to under weigh
Page    49   haliard changed to halliard
Page    50   profitting changed to profiting
Page    61   cruize changed to cruise
Page    76   mareschino changed to maraschino
Page    86   Fredrickshavn changed to Fredrikshavn
Page    87   rivetted changed to riveted
Page  102   pannel changed to panel
Page  109   Thorwalsden changed to Thorwaldsen
Page  140   attentention changed to attention
Page  142   villanously changed to villainously
Page  187   wordly changed to worldly
Page  202   hullabulloo changed to hullabaloo
Page  261   mackaw's changed to macaw's
Page  292   paralized changed to paralyzed
Page  292   lymb changed to limb
Page  299   moskitoes changed to mosquitoes
Page  330   geting changed to getting
Page  330   merschaums changed to meerschaums
Page  400   cruizing changed to cruising
Page  438   Boccacio changed to Boccaccio

Pages  183-186   quotation marks confirmed as in original text



        
        
    
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