3
Gustav only laughed when Arne asked him how it felt to go down those wires. “You’ll really have to try it yourself to find out,” he said. “It wasn’t much. Now you’d better run over and see Torger.”
Torger was still a little pale and more than a little mortified over his accident. “Gustav said he’d give me a lesson in handling a boat,” he told Arne. “He said maybe we could go out tomorrow, the three of us.”
“If Gustav teaches you, believe me, you’ll learn how,” said Arne. “He’s the one who taught me to sail and swim. Wonder why your brother Oscar didn’t teach you.”
“They are too near of an age,” said Torger’s mother. “Gustav is quite a bit older than you, and you are willing to learn from him. When Oscar tries to show Torger how to do something, it generally ends up in a fight.”
The boys couldn’t help grinning, for they knew Fru Blessom was right.
The next morning, Gustav took both boys out on the fjord. There was a stiff wind blowing, and the sailboat was not easy to manage. He said it would be good experience for Arne, and that if Torger learned in this wind, he’d never be afraid of a sailboat. Gustav was thorough in his instructions, and both boys worked manfully.
“I’ve got the hang of it now,” Torger said confidently. “I bet I won’t turn over in a boat again.”
“I don’t believe you will, Torger,” said Gustav. “Now you two lads be sure to get out on the fjord and sail every chance you have. The best summer fun in the world is on a fjord.”
“And the best thing to have fun with is a boat,” said Arne.
“You’re right about that,” Gustav agreed heartily. Then he gave a sudden exclamation, “Put her hard over to the left, Arne! We’re going in now as fast as we can! Do you see what’s coming in from the sea? TheLaksis almost in port.”
Gustav sounded very happy, but Arne’s heart felt heavy as he steered toward shore. It had been such fun to have his brother home, and the time had gone all too quickly. Now it would be months before he would be here for more than a short visit.
But Gustav wouldn’t let anyone be gloomy today. No sooner had they tied the little sailboat up at the warehouse dock than he was rushing toward the big wharf, the younger boys beside him.
“From the way Arne’s going, I’ll have to hurry to get there first. He’ll be going as first mate in my place, or maybe skipper,” Gustav called out.
He stopped to smooth his hair and shake his coat into place before he talked to the captain. After that he hurried home to get his things, which were ready packed.
Besta and Mother came back with him, and Father, too, came down to the wharf to see him off. Half the town was gathering there, indeed, especially the boys and girls. They liked to watch the boat unload its cargo of mail and freight and take on other cargo to go up through the fjord.
Arne and Torger watched as a bright new spinning wheel was unloaded. “That’s for my grandmother,” said Torger, “and about time, too. She’s been complaining that she wouldn’t have wool ready for the Christmas knitting if that wheel didn’t come soon.”
Crates of oranges from America were next, boxes of groceries and drygoods, and windows for the new house going up at the edge of town. There was not very much to load on the boat here. The fish from the packing housewent to ports farther away. Towns along the fjord could catch their own fish. There was mail to go. A few passengers got on. Arne saw a group of boys on board with sleeping bags and rucksacks. He knew their bicycles were stowed away somewhere and that they were on a holiday jaunt up the fjords and over the mountains. One of these days he’d be going on such a jaunt, too.
A little flutter of interest in the crowd made him turn quickly. To his surprise, he saw Uncle Jens coming down the street, leading Suri. He went straight over to the captain and said, “I want to send Suri up to Blegen for a little while. My wife’s brother needs an extra pony to help with some farm work, and I can spare Suri just now. So can you take her aboard and make her comfortable?”
“Ja, Ja, certainly we can take care of Suri,” the captain assured him.
But Suri did not seem to care for such a trip in the least. A broad band was securely fastened around her and a derrick swung over to lift her aboard. But little Suri stamped and champed and lifted her head, her eyes rolling in fright as she complained in loud whinnies.
No one thought of such a thing as trying to force the little mare aboard. Uncle Jens talked to her, and shequieted down a bit; but when the derrick came toward her again, once more she backed and stamped and whinnied nervously.
The other loading was finished. The sailors were closing the holds. But theLakscould not weigh anchor because little Suri, in spite of all wheedling, was flatly refusing to go aboard.
Arne only wished he had the chance Suri was refusing, but nevertheless he felt very sorry for the frightened little horse. Perhaps he could coax her a bit—he had done it often enough before.
He went over to try, fishing in his pockets as he went. Yes, there were two lumps of sugar. He put an arm over Suri’s neck and offered her one, talking to her softly the while. She nuzzled her soft brown nose into his hand and seemed to feel comforted.
“Go on, Arne,” Uncle Jens encouraged him. “She seems to listen to you.”
So Arne stood there, coaxing little Suri, feeding her sugar, talking to her, patting her, until she stopped trembling and champing and at last let him fasten the big hook in the band which was fastened firmly about her. Then he ran onto the boat and stood there talking to her from the deck. Now at last she let them swing her aboard,and though she stamped anxiously at first, she allowed Arne to take the band off and lead her down into the hold.
“Wish I could go along with you, Suri,” he said, putting his cheek against her neck and giving her a pat.
Gustav had come down to see that everything was in good order, and now he gave his young brother an encouragingnod. “That was a pretty good job, Arne; you saved the skipper a lot of time, and that may turn out to be a good thing.”
“Do you think he might let me go on the boat some time, Gustav?” asked Arne eagerly.
“I can’t promise a thing yet. You skip ashore now, and we’ll see. The ship’s bell is ringing. They want to get started. And our captain wouldn’t care for a stowaway aboard, I know that.”
So it came about that Arne was laughing as he ran down the gangplank just as they were about to pull it up. And instead of feeling sad as the boat steamed away with Gustav aboard, he was thinking of the day when he might be aboard too.
He looked up to see his father standing there, smiling down at him. “I thought for a minute there I was going to have two sons on that ship this time,” he said. “Looked to me as if the captain could find a use for you.”
“Oh, I wish I could be aboard, especially when theStjernesails out,” said Arne, heaving a great sigh. “That’s the life, isn’t it, Father?”
His father laughed, a contented, good-natured laugh. “That’s the natural way for a Norwegian boy to feel, I guess. I did my share of sailing, too, in my earlydays. But I understand there’s such a thing as school. I hear boys are expected to go to that in Norway.”
Arne knew his father was joking; so he smiled back, though school never seemed to him a very good subject for a joke. “I suppose so,” he said. “But I like outdoor things so much better than schoolwork. I just wish it were summer all the year around.”
Arne was not the only one who wished it were summer all the year around. Up at the saeter, the girls were having a merry time in spite of the work of caring for the cows and goats, milking and making cheese. There were berry-picking excursions through the woods and valleys to gather blueberries, raspberries, and the lovely brightmulterberries which grew thick and red on their low bushes. There were visits with girls in neighboring saeters and fishing trips up the mountain.
“Don’t forget I’m to learn to make cheese,” Bergel reminded Signe one day.
“Oh, yes. Mother wouldn’t like it a bit if we didn’t get that tended to. We’ll start withgammelost. That’s best, anyway.”
Under Signe’s direction, Bergel warmed the milk and let it stand until the curds and whey could be separated. Then she dried the curds, crumbling them carefullywith her hand, and set it all aside to ripen. Signe even let her add the caraway seed and salt.
When it was brought out some days later for inspection, Margret looked at it with approval. “We should save that for company,” she said, sniffing with appreciation.
Bergel nodded, looking very grown-up as she tasted it with a businesslike air and added a little more salt. Then she put it away in a covered jar to ripen further. “I hope the company will be Arne and Evart and some of the other boys,” she said, and though the other girls laughed, they agreed with her.
Down in the town, Arne was keeping busy, too. He had jobs of many kinds at home, running errands and getting in the wood for the old cookstove Besta preferred to Mother’s new electric range. And he had to help Besta cut the hay in the little patch of ground that sloped from their house up the mountain. It was fun to get in there with a scythe, and to help Besta and Mother hang the hay over the wooden hay fences to dry before it could mildew on the damp ground.
He helped around the packing house, too. There were errands there as well as at home, and there was cleaning to do, and packing. Sometimes he was allowedto go out with the fishermen. He especially liked to go with Ole to fish fortorskand herring and halibut. Sometimes they took a rowboat or a small sailboat up the fjord. Sometimes they took Ole’s big boat and went out to sea.
There was time for play, too, in the summer afternoons and long, light evenings. More than once Arne went away on a day’s jaunt with Oscar and Torger and half a dozen other boys. They sailed and swam and fished on the fjord, and took long hikes up and down the fjord path and up the mountainside.
But Arne never let any of his activities keep him from being right on the dock when theLakswas due. Each time he hoped to hear the glad news that he was to be on board when the ship weighed anchor. Each time he asked Gustav eagerly if he was to go on this trip.
When two or three weeks went by with no invitation for Arne, he began to lose hope. But then one day Gustav jumped off the gangplank calling out, “Where’s that Arne? You better go get some packing done, boy.”
“Really, Gustav? Do I go this time?” cried Arne.
“Looks that way,” answered Gustav. “The skipper says we’re bringing Suri back this trip, and you’d be a good one to have aboard to help with that.”
Arne gave a big, “Oh!” on a deep, blissful sigh, andwas off up the hill like a shot to tell Mother the good news and to see to that all-important packing. He had a lot of things he wanted to take, and he had a feeling Mother wouldn’t think half of them were necessary.
“We’ll be here for a couple of hours, at least,” Gustav called after him. “Tell Mother to put the coffeepot on.”
Arne loved that journey up and down the fjord, stopping at each small village with mail and freight. There were a few passengers, and he liked to see them get off amid the joyful greetings of their friends. Often they were met by a light boat which would take them aboard and then skim swiftly and quietly off to some town across the fjord or to some nearby farm.
He made friends with a little party of English lads who had bicycles on board and planned to leave the boat at the head of the fjord and go off through the valleys and over the mountains which Arne taught them to call by the Norwegian name offjelds. He wished he had a sleeping bag like theirs and that he could sleep out with them on deck, though they told him it got pretty cold.
They let him share some of the meals they cooked over their tiny portable stove, and Gustav saw to it that he contributed fish balls or cheese or some other delicacy.
On the afternoon theLaksneared the head of the fjord, Gustav was at the wheel and Arne stood near him, watching the waterfalls dash violently down the high, steep mountain walls.
Suddenly he gave a shout, “Gustav, look out! Rocks falling! Big ones! Right ahead!”
Gustav gave one quick look, and his face was grim. Arne’s heart beat fast. He knew it would be terribly dangerous to hit those rocks here where theLakssteamed between sheer mountain walls. But he saw that his brother wasn’t losing his head for a moment. He was proud of the resolute look on Gustav’s white face, the sure, firm way he managed to turn the wheel and guide the boat to avoid the rocks.
The captain came running up, his face as pale as Gustav’s. “Good work, Gustav,” was all he said, but his relief was plain to see.
At the head of the fjord, the English boys left them, though they stayed on the dock to watch little Suri taken aboard.
Arne kept a sharp lookout for falling rocks as they steamed homeward between the steep rocky cliffs. He was glad when they came to the places where the country flattened out a bit and there was room for a small villageor a few farms at the foot of the mountain. Often he caught a glimpse of a saeter high above them.
“Do you think we’re going to get up to the saeter again this summer?” he asked Gustav, after one such glimpse. “I know the girls are counting on it.”
“I’ll have two or three days between my last trip on theLaksand the time theStjernesails,” said Gustav. “That will be early in August. Let’s go then.”
“Shall I make a trip up and tell the girls?” asked Arne eagerly. “They’ll have a lot of getting ready to do—a lot of baking and things.”
“You hope,” said Gustav, laughing. “Well, I hope so too, Arne. So we’ll figure out the time and you can hike up that mountain and tell them about it.”
Arne had made many pleasant journeys to the saeter, but there had never been one as gay as the trip up there with Gustav and Evart and a dozen other lads.
“Look! Look what the girls are using for pasture!” cried Arne, as they came in sight of the saeter. A shout of laughter went up, for Bergel had tethered a small white kid to the tiny birch tree on the roof of the cabin.
The shout brought out the girls, gay in their special holiday dresses. Arne thought they looked very pretty in their full, striped skirts with crisp, lace-trimmed white aprons and bright laced bodices over white blouses. A hand-made silver brooch fastened each blouse at the throat. Margret’s brooch was handed down to her byBesta, Arne knew; and he thought it was the prettiest one of all. These brooches were treasured possessions in Norwegian families.
Signe and Margret and Bergel had invited girls from neighboring saeters, and a good thing, too, for Gustav had brought his accordion and Evart his fiddle. There was dancing and singing and laughter under the trees. Arne and Bergel joined in the fun, for they could do the old folk dances as well as any of them.
Then a feast was spread out on the long table—fish and cheese andlefseand big bowls of berries with whipped cream, andkringlerand cakes and cookies of all kinds. Bergel’sgammelostwas praised enough to make the young cheesemaker very proud.
The fun stopped toward evening, but only long enough for the girls to get in the cows and goats and do their milking, to make fresh coffee and replenish the dishes on the table. Then the dancing started again and went on far into the long summer evening.
At last the party from the village started down the trail for home, reluctantly, to be sure, but singing and laughing nevertheless.
It was a sleepy Arne who tumbled into his feather bed at last. This had been a long day, but a wonderful one.