“Choriñoac kaiolanTristeric du cantatcen,Duelarican cer jan,Cer edan,Campoa du desiratcen;Ceren, cerenLibertatia hain eder den.”Le Pays Basque, parFrancisque Michel.“The little bird in the cageSingeth sadly,Withal to eat,Withal to drink,He would be out;Because, becauseNothing is sweet but liberty.”
“Choriñoac kaiolanTristeric du cantatcen,Duelarican cer jan,Cer edan,Campoa du desiratcen;Ceren, cerenLibertatia hain eder den.”Le Pays Basque, parFrancisque Michel.
“The little bird in the cageSingeth sadly,Withal to eat,Withal to drink,He would be out;Because, becauseNothing is sweet but liberty.”
MODERATE BILL—PROVISIONS LOST—WE MEET AGAIN—GIPSIES IN ADVANCE—LEFT ALONE—A WELCOME TELEGRAM—NORWEGIAN BATH ROOM—SINGULAR PAINTINGS—ONCE MORE FAREWELL—THE TELEGRAPH CLERK—THE MJÖSEN LAKE—THE DRONNINGEN—RUINED CATHEDRAL—UTILITARIANISM—LILLEHAMMER—ONCE MORE IN CAMP.
Our bill was moderate—four dollars, four marks, and eight skillings; twenty-four skillings for attendance seemed quite sufficient. Our things were all placed on a truck; Esmeralda carried Zacharia’s violin, our guitar, and our two extra caps, whilst we took our courier-bags, and, under our arm, in two satchels made for them, the two Regent-street tambourines. Our appearance certainly much resembled travelling musicians.
Bidding adieu to the kind people of the house, wewere soon descending the winding road to the steamer. As we walked along, we could not help alluding to the astonishment our numerous friends would express if they could see us. Noah and Zacharia soon after met us; they had left the donkeys at the railway-station, and came to say the provisions had not arrived. When we reached the station, another telegram was sent, in which we mentioned Hudson Brothers, as consignors to Messrs. Wilson. The clerk of the telegraph office began to regard us as an habitué of the bureau, and we looked upon him as a pupil in the English language. We were astonished at his progress, and he was apparently equally so at our large expenditure of money in telegrams. Rather in mournful mood, we went to the wooden platform to which the steamer was moored. There was the box; there stood the donkeys; there the men to put them into the box, and the sling, to sling them on board. How are the donkeys to be put into the box? Vain were the efforts made—all to no purpose; the donkeys had made up their minds. At last, with the united efforts of four men, and Noah, one by one they were pulled, dragged, lifted, carried, forced, in wild resistance, over the passenger’s bridge, and along the deck, in sight of the astonished lookers-on. The “Puru Rawnee” and his companions were at length safely placed before the windlass on the fore-deck, close to four brass guns, ready loaded for a salute. We decided to go to Christiania, in search of the provisions, and sent another telegram to Mr. Bennett. The passage-money of our gipsies, and the three donkeys to Lillehammer, amounted to five dollars, seventeen marks; we also paid six marks for our gipsies’ dinner, includingone bottle of “Baiersk Öl” between them, and a cup of coffee each. The captain kindly promised to look after them, and arrange for them to camp, when they got to Lillehammer. Just before leaving, we gave them some Norsk words for bread, cheese, coffee, &c. The old man in the white hat, our guardian angel, was, of course, at hand. With much anxiety he wrote down the words for Noah. Unfortunately, Noah could not read; but as the old man pronounced each word aloud, Noah followed, and the old man did not suspect, apparently, the neglected education of his pupil.
There was the sound of the coming train, just before eleven; down came the passengers, hurrying with their things to the steamer. There was the officer, and his wife, with the Tyrolese hat and feather—we had met again. Their two carrioles27are put on board—hasty salutations—we learn that the invalid barrister has left Christiania for Bergen—they are going to Gjövik. We told him our dilemma, and he said we had hurried too quickly through Christiania. They had been busymaking purchases at Christiania. Our conversation now ceases, for the steamer must depart. The stout captain took up his position on the steamer’s pont, and, taking out his watch, he gave the signal for starting. As theDronningenglided along the still waters of the Mjösen, our “cushty chavos” (gip., good children) made farewell signals to their Romany Rye.
NORWEGIAN FENCE.
NORWEGIAN FENCE.
Another telegram to Mr. Bennett, to say we should be in Christiania at seven o’clock in the evening, no train leaving Eidsvold before the afternoon. The telegraph clerk expressed his astonishment at the number of our telegrams, and increased his stock of English. We felt lonely away from our people. It was a very warm day, and we had some hours on hand. Crossing the bridge at the head of the lake, near the railway station, we passed the houses on the opposite side, and walked along the dusty narrow road beyond. We could see nothing but inclosures on either side the road. The common styleof Norwegian road fence consists of posts, with two long parallel rails, supporting a number of slanting rails, of shorter length, loosely placed between them.
There was no shade. The wooden log houses, here and there, had generally tiled roofs. No attempt was made at ornament or picturesque effect. Everything in the rough. We sat on the narrow road side, and noted up our diary; then we returned to the houses again near the bridge, and being hungry, boldly walked into one which bore some resemblance to a place of refreshment. They civilly said they had nothing, and that there was a house on the hill, beyond the station, where refreshment might be had. They meant the house at which we had lately stayed.28It was about half-past two o’clock when we again crossed the bridge, and called at the telegraph office. The polite clerk seemed rather pleased to see us, at the same time handing a telegram with much alacrity.
A life-boat on the ocean to the shipwrecked mariner, could not have given much greater pleasure. The provisions had been found. Our name was not on the case, but our mention of Messrs. Hudson Brothers, as consignors, had fortunately furnished the clue. They would reach Eidsvold that night. With some degree of satisfaction we soon ascended the hill, and came to our quiet retreat. The comely “pige” welcomed us—she seemed much pleased—and we were shown into a finer, and more stately chamber, than the one we had before occupied. We were hungry, and our dinner was quickly served. Côtelettes, potatoes, and some kind of sweet dish, with some “Baiersk Öl.” Then we wrote letters at a tablenear the window, in View of the Mjösen Lake. All was quietude; we felt as if we were lost. At six o’clock our thermometer was 82° Fahrenheit. We determined to take a Badekar (bath). The large wooden bath-house was at a short distance below the “gjœstgiver-gaard.”
NORWEGIAN BATH-ROOM.
NORWEGIAN BATH-ROOM.
Crossing over a light wooden bridge from the lake shore, we were immediately on a balcony extending round the building, above the waters of the lake. Doors opened from the balcony into the bath-rooms. Each visitor has a small dressing-room adjoining another small room, in which stands a zinc bath. As we looked in, a curious leather spout pendant from the ceiling supplied the water to the bath. It was a clumsy contrivance, and out of repair; part of the water poured in streams on the floor, whilst the other portion found its way into the bath.
The man in attendance, who came to prepare the bath, could not understand what heat we required, especiallyas they use Reaumur, and we use the Fahrenheit thermometer. A Norwegian gentleman, just taking his bath, and very scantily clothed, at the request of the man, politely came to the bath-room door to act as interpreter. He spoke some English, and kindly relieved us from our difficulty. Thanking him for his aid, he bowed and retired. The price of our bath was fivepence. Giving the attendant a few skillings, we returned to our pleasant room at the quiet “gjœstgiver-gaard.” How dreamy we felt at eve, as we watched from our window the lights and shadows on the Lake Mjösen. A gilded surface in the evening sun—how full of beauty—one seemed to view the imagery of other worlds. There is in nature more than art can tell, or language render. Not a leaf but has its history, a flower its tale, nor a sound without its music to the mind. There were some quaint old paintings on the panels of the chamber, which caught our attention as we sat musing there, and we hastily sketched them. One represented a priest in old-fashionedclerical costume walking unconsciously as he reads, into a river, or out to sea. The priest is saying, as he reads: “Jeg maa gaae til Bunden i dette Problem for jeg gaae vidre.” (I must go to the bottom of this problem before I go farther.)
The other painting represented a stout clergyman who is being rowed along a lake or river. He is so stout that the end of the boat in which he sits is nearly under water. He is supposed to be shouting to the boatman:
“Hal’ud manne. Der gaa er Dampen.” (Pull away, lad! There goes the steamer.)
With our mind much at ease we retired early to rest. By some chance they put us to sleep in Esmeralda’s bed. We rose at four o’clock the next morning, and wrote letters. Our “frokost” was served at seven o’clock. It was a beautiful morning: our comely “pige” was there, but she had no gipsy Noah to admire. We paid our account—three marks sixteen skillings. Slinging ourcourier-bag over our shoulder, as we gave the comely “pige” a douceur, we again wished these kind and attentive people farewell. It must be owned that we lingered for a moment near this quiet retreat, so full of pleasant moments and long-to-be-remembered reminiscences.
At the railway-station the case of provisions, which had arrived, cost us one dollar. Sealing our letters in the telegraph office, we posted them. The case of provisions, which was very heavy, was brought down to the steamer, and placed on the jetty to be taken on board. We then noticed, fastened to it, a letter from Mr. Bennett, and Hudson Brothers’ receipted bill, attached outside the case. It appeared that some of the packages in the case had burst open. Pea-flour, wheat-flour, salt, and other contents had got mixed and spread about in wild confusion. Mr. Bennett had kindly had the pea-flour and salt put into a bag. Great care is requisite in packing for long journeys. The provisions were all right at last. Paying another visit to the telegraph office, we remitted to Mr. Bennett a sum sufficient to cover all costs incidental to the baggage and expenses, and also wrote a letter to him. We must ever acknowledge his kind attention. Mr. Bennett’s services are invaluable to new arrivals; ten minutes’ conversation with him will often save the tourist days of trouble, vexation, and delay. You have, also, the feeling that he is a gentleman, and you can trust his advice. Our telegraph clerk was wonderfully polite, and we felt a certain amount of regret when for the last time we wished him good morning. As we left the office, he said, in very good English, “I think, sir, you are now all right.”
We returned to the steamer, which left Eidsvold at half-past eleven in the forenoon.29The passengers were for the most part plainly dressed, and of the class of small farmers. The men wore large, ample trousers, and thick, heavy Wellington boots. The excursion along the lake was delightful. The Mjösen is sixty-three English miles in length. On the shores of the lake, the steamer passed numerous farms and pleasant homesteads, with pine and fir forests forming a distant background. Towards Lillehammer the scenery becomes more picturesque; the landing stations often reminded us of colonial settlements. Then we became acquainted with a young passenger and his friend who were going to Lillehammer. The friend spoke a few words of English. A tall, smart-looking young Norwegian officer, neatly dressed in plain clothes, who had travelled in England, France, and Prussia, spoke English fluently. Whilst we were conversing, an old man came up with a number of knives to sell; they were suspended to a wire. After some inspection, we selected two knives at six marks each, and one at one dollar. Then came the money payment; it was a serious business. We produced a handful of those varied coins, many not counting for the value they are marked. A young man who spoke a few words of English volunteered to count out the sum. The countenance of the old man gazing on my money, and the young man, who was anxious to be exact to a skilling, would have made a good subject for Frith, or some artist skilful in making a group on canvas convey its own wordless history. Thehunting-knives were intended as presents to our gipsies. Although the only Englishmen on board, with such homely, kind people, we felt as with friends, and they seemed to give us welcome to their beautiful land. As we surveyed the Lake scene, theDronningensteamed in sight. Our friend the captain took off his hat in salutation to our captain and passengers. When we were returning his greeting he seemed to recognise us, and again waved his hat in final adieu. TheDronningenis said to be the best steamer on the lake. What a strange exhilaration we felt as we inhaled the pure lake breeze, whilst the steamer glided along the waters of the Mjösen. We had no care. The moments seemed an existence of perfect enjoyment, with only a short span dividing us from our tents, and people, and first Norwegian camp, whence we should wander over many leagues of nature’s fairest scenes. On the shores of the lake, to our right, stand the ruins of Stor Hammer cathedral, forming some picturesque arches, in broken decay, nearly all that remains of a once noble pile destroyed in 1567. At this part of the lake, George Bidder, once renowned as the calculating boy, whose wonderful memory and rapid calculations we had often read of in days gone by, had purchased an estate.30
Although there are not many castles in Norway, on the island of Helgëo are the ruins of a fortress built by Hako IV. The old church of Ringsaker, on the eastern shore of the lake, is said to possess an altar curiously carved, and also the body of a priest, singularly preserved from the ruthless hand of time.31The old church is said to stand on the battle-field where St. Olaf gained one of his many victories, and adds one more interesting association to the shores of the Mjösen.
Dinner on board the steamer is announced as “fertig” (ready). It was not a table d’hôte consisting of many dishes, but a substantial meal of fish, meat, and a Norwegian dish, of which milk formed a large ingredient. As we afterwards lounged on deck, the Norwegian officer looked over our song, gave us some hints of pronunciation of Norsk words, and said the English verses were well translated into Norwegian. The song, with its engraved bordure of gipsy life and Norwegian scenery, seemed to interest him very much; and before he left at Hammer he was much pleased with the copy we presented for his acceptance.
One large island, in the lake, we were told, was the most fertile in Norway. The shores of the lake are not very far distant from each other. All was sunshine, with a strong breeze upon the lake. How changed the scene in winter. One of the passengers told us the winter continued eight months, sometimes even nine months. The days in summer are often very warm, and the nights cold. The homesteads had no pretensions to Swiss decoration; and the villages had a similar appearance to a new settlement in Australia. Without the forest treesNorway would soon be a sterile spot. Take the timber from the mountains, and all would be a barren, cheerless wilderness of rocks and stones. It is to be hoped that government will one day restrain the rapid destruction of the forests. Even in England the shady lanes are fast vanishing before the close-cropped hedge-rows; barely a fence which is considered necessary in this utilitarian age. The birds, which once found shelter and convenience for building their nests, are diminishing fast, and one must often listen in vain for their cheerful song.32
The steamer passed a very picturesque rocky island towards Lillehammer. Only one traveller now remained who spoke English, and his stock was limited, consisting of two words. Fortunately, we arranged with the steward for a stock of three bottles of brandy, and two or three bottles of St. Jullien claret, before the officer who spoke English left the vessel. We paid one dollar for our fare, and three dollars one mark and eight skillings for dinner, coffee, ale, bread and cheese, three bottles of brandy, and two of claret. We tried in vain to pass an English sovereign, to economise our small coin. The steward spoke a little English. He was a jolly-looking, buzzy, fuzzy, smick-smack, smooth, straight up-and-down, and no mistake, sort of fellow. He did his best to assist us. We soon steamed up to the wooden pier below Lillehammer. Noah was standing between our two tents, pitched on a rise of ground, above a wooden building by the pier. Noah saw us at once, and came down to thepier as jauntily as possible, with a pipe, to our great surprise, stuck in his mouth.
Waiting until the passengers had gone on shore, we called Noah on board, and gave him the bottles to carry to our tents. The case was slung on to the pier. The steward referred to the captain, who spoke English, and decided that the amount we had already paid included carriage to Lillehammer. They wished us good-by, and we left the vessel. A porter from one of the hotels, who came to us, placed the case on a truck, and we told him to take it up to our tents. Esmeralda came forward as we approached the camp. The gipsies were much pleased to see us again. Esmeralda said she knew we were on the steamer. Whilst we were talking, we caught sight of the truck and case going up the road from the lake to the town of Lillehammer. Noah and ourselves went after it, and soon after Noah and the porter brought it to the tents. The case was a large wooden box of considerable weight. With much satisfaction we contemplated its arrival in camp. The tents were now actually pitched on the shore of the beautiful Mjösen Lake. Its calm waters, lovely in the eventide, and the quietude of nature, gave us one more glimpse of perfect happiness.
“Let us rest a bit in our tent this fine evening to collect our memoranda from the note-book hurriedly pencilled. Yet it is not easy to withdraw the eye from the beautiful picture before us, framed by the curtains of our canvas boudoir.”—The Rob Roy on the Jordan.
“Let us rest a bit in our tent this fine evening to collect our memoranda from the note-book hurriedly pencilled. Yet it is not easy to withdraw the eye from the beautiful picture before us, framed by the curtains of our canvas boudoir.”—The Rob Roy on the Jordan.
OUR FIRST CAMP—CAMP VISITORS—GIPSY MUSIC—FOREIGN TABLEAU—CURIOUS OBSERVATIONS—PREPARATIONS FOR DEPARTURE—EARLY START—LAING’S SUGGESTIONS—THE GUDBRANSDALEN—THE HUNNEFOS—THE AUSTRALIAN MEAT—CAMP RULES—THE PAIR OF GLOVES—SUDDEN SHADOWS—OUR TALISMAN—NEW FRIENDS.
The Mjösen is a fine lake. The scenery is not bold, or imposing in wild and rugged outline, but it is beautiful and pleasing. There is a richness often wanted in the wilder scenes of nature. Our contemplation must be short; we have work to do. Noah with my Tennant’s geological hammer soon began to loosen the nails of the provision-case. A crowd of boys, who gathered round, and the tall man in the background, rendered the group of spectators a complete study; there was an expression of deep interest as Noah loosened every nail. Our gipsies had been well cared-for by the gallant captain of theDronningen. He had kindly arranged for our people to pitch their tents on some waste ground near the lake; the woman of the house above seemed to exercise a sort of right over it, and had agreed to supply our people with food at the house. She was an energeticold woman, with not a very good-tempered expression of countenance, but she had been very attentive.
The captain had on the previous evening taken our gipsies in a boat across the lake. They had spent the evening very pleasantly with himself and wife. Some sympathy was expressed for the separation of Esmeralda from her husband, referring to myself. The gipsies, we afterwards understood, had a gay time on board theDronningen; they played at the captain’s request, who collected quite a fortune for them. Noah and Zachariah33were also treated to cigars, and various liquids by the passengers. Their voyage on the Mjösen Lake seemed to have been unusually gay. Once more we were in camp, and the boys from the town above kept accumulating round our tents. Then we went up the road towards Lillehammer with our maps, and examined the route, and the direction ready for our journey next morning. When we returned, it was eight o’clock. There were so many people about, that Esmeralda and myself went up to the woman’s house to have coffee. Noah and Zachariah afterwards took their turn whilst we stayed at the tents. Noah had our instructions to pay the woman, but he was quite unable to regulate the account. We found the old woman, who was exceedingly polite, charged us three dollars for our coffee that evening, and a day and a half board for our gipsies, and the use of the waste ground. The charge was nearly as much as we had paid at the comfortable inn at Eidsvold, with lodgings for a longer period. The gipsies hadpromised her some music; and as we were anxious to pass the time until the people should disperse, Esmeralda and Zachariah came up to play one or two tunes. We had an upstairs room, very bare of furniture, containing only a small table and sofa and two or three chairs. Esmeralda sat on the sofa, and myself and Zacharia at each end of the table. Away went the violin and the tambourine, waltzes and polkas, in rapid succession. The old woman walked about in an ecstacy. Very shortly afterwards a large crowd of both sexes appeared at the doors of the room, and we motioned for them to dance or sit down. In came the steward of the steamer, smoking a cigar, and the cashier with him. Bang, bang, went the tambourine. Esmeralda, with her dark eyes flashing, was no mean tambourinist. With regard to dancing they seem very diffident. Chairs were brought, and the steward and cashier were accommodated. The former smoked, and seemed on the best of terms with himself and everybody else. He was a good-humoured, good-tempered fellow, and pressed us to have something to drink. Notwithstanding we declined, in came the woman of the house with two bottles of beer and glasses for us. The bottles were uncorked and the steward came to pour out the beer; but although he pressed us to take some, and also to allow our gipsies to do so, we were firm in our determination. With an air of almost disappointment that we did not accept their hospitality, he returned to his seat. Jingle, jingle, went the brasses of the tambourine. The room, and passages to it became quite thronged. The steward smoked; the cashier seemed, we thought, to look with apparent admiration at our tambourinist. We had evidently an appreciativeaudience. The assemblage reminded us, as we sat there in quiet contemplation, of one of those foreign scenes at times represented in dramas in London. Gipsies, foreign costumes, log-house, landlady, peasants with knives at their sides, steward of steamer and cashier, wild strip of broken ground below the house, tents, donkeys, steamer, and the lake beautiful with the shadow of declining day—all the elements of romance were there, and it was a reality.
We looked at our watch: it was nearly ten. We rose, and passing through the visitors wished them good evening, and were soon seated in our tents. Group after group of people came thronging down, taking a cursory glance, as they passed, as if unwilling to intrude. We were busy arranging and packing our things for the next morning: some would now and then peep in; one went so far as to take hold of our tent carpet and examine it. Another laid hold of our iron kettle-prop outside, and it was amusing to see the earnest discussion that was going on as to its use. An intelligent man with a benign smile made a motion with it, as if making holes in the ground, and whilst pointing to the tent-rods looked at us for confirmation. He was evidently much gratified by our nod of assent. The centre of attraction were the donkeys; party after party from Lillehammer swept by our tents along the broken ground, to the spot where our donkeys stood. They were examined with an earnestness which showed our friends to be warmly attached to the subject of natural history. The steward came up to our tents, soon after we left the house, and pressed us to come with him on board the steamer, but we declined; whereupon he took off his hat and left.The goods porter of the steamer wandered about our tents for some time, and at last came up and said he wanted half a dollar more for the carriage of the case. When we took out our money to pay him, he said it was a dollar. Perhaps we misunderstood him at first. The captain had said we had nothing more to pay; but, not having any time to investigate the matter, we trusted to the proverbial honesty of the Norwegians, and so paid the dollar required. Taking advantage of a lull in the number of the visitors, as it was becoming late, the case was unpacked. Then more visitors came; but we went on and repacked our provisions in our bags, for carriage the next morning on our donkeys. Some of the lookers-on near our tents criticised our biscuits, and especially our pea-flour which was scattered over everything. They did so good humouredly, and seemed astonished at our stores. Zachariah launched the empty case on the lake below. Our visitors at last became few in number, and less frequent.
Esmeralda carefully packed up her dress with the silver buttons. She had hung it on a bush near the tents after they had arrived at Lillehammer. The blue dress and the silver buttons gleaming in the sun must have been a pleasing sight. At last we went to bed; that is, we retired to sleep on our waterproof rug and carpet within our tent partition. The indistinct sound of voices outside our tents and the noise of persons who appeared to be wandering about the donkeys still continued, but we were all soon asleep: The thermometer had been at 86° Fahrenheit in the day.
The hum of a small mosquito awoke us at about twoo’clock in the morning; at half-past two o’clock we roused our gipsies. The things were soon packed on the donkeys by Noah, who was an excellent packer. We finally struck our camp at three o’clockA.M.The house where our coffee had been supplied the previous evening was shut up, and wrapt in silence; the woman of the house was possibly slumbering with the three dollars under her pillow. The steamer lay moored at the wooden pier, where the steward and cashier, if they slept on board, may have been dreaming of the dark-eyed gitana.
How silent all seemed in the early morning on the banks of the Mjösen Vand. Not a soul stirring, save one solitary fisherman in his boat in the far distance upon the lake. With our Alpine stocks, tents, and baggage, donkeys and gipsies, we slowly ascended the road to Lillehammer. How delightful in the freshness of the early morning to commence our nomadic wandering of many days. Laing says, in his excellent work on Norway,34“A young and clever English sportsman, especially if he had a taste, also, for any branch of natural history, ought to pass a summer very agreeably with his rifle, fishing-rod, and his tent, among the fjelde and lakes, encamping where fancy and sport might lead him, and carry all his accommodation on a couple of ponies.”
As we passed through the town of Lillehammer we noticed that most of the windows were shut; the inhabitants were enjoying their morning sleep. We felt thankful that we carried our home with us. Lillehammer is not without its associations; its former cathedral andmonastery were originally founded by an Englishman, Nicholas Breakspear, in 1160. He was afterwards Pope Hadrian IV. As we passed down the long street, one man was on the look-out; with hot haste he rushed to the back of the house, as if to apprise some one else of our coming; he returned as we were going by, and said “Ya, ya!” when we asked if we were in the right road for Holmen; then standing in the street, he gazed after us until we were out of sight.
With feelings of bright anticipation we had entered the long and fertile valley of the Gudbrandsdalen.35Commencing at Lillehammer, the valley of Gudbransdalen extends 168 miles to the foot of Dovre Fjeld. Our route is on the right bank of the Logen. Many cultivated farms occupy the lower portions of the often narrow valley on each side of the main road, while hills and pine woods rise above them on either side.
We all felt particularly hungry as we pushed on for some distance along a good road on the right of the river Logen. Coming to a small stream of water on the road-side, we partly unloaded our donkeys; on a small space of rough ground the gipsies lighted a fire, and prepared our breakfast of tea, sardines, and college biscuits. One large carriage and pair passed usen routefor Lillehammer; a pony with carriole was tied behind it, and all were jogging along at a comfortable pace, with the occupants fast asleep. Noah commenced repacking our donkeys, when a timber cart passed with two men upon it; one wore a red cap. They stopped and scanned our donkeys with curious eyes; then they wished to know why we did not use the donkeys to drawa carriage. The man in the red cap offered Esmeralda a seat on his timber, which, though kindly meant, was not accepted. They went on before us, and evidently made known our coming, for from time to time men and women rushed up to the fences on the road-side to look at our cavalcade;—it was a very picturesque one, including Zachariah almost fast asleep on one of the loaded donkeys. As we proceeded we were overtaken by a carriage, in which we recognised the inn porter who had assisted us with our case from the steamer. The two travellers in the carriage had been our fellow-passengers by the steamer on the Mjösen; they took off their hats. Another carriage afterwards followed, and another steam-boat passenger took off his hat and recognised us again. We were now some miles from Lillehammer, and Noah was sent to try a roadside house for bread; the woman, who spoke a little English, recommended a house beyond. Coming soon after to an old road leading below the new main route—along the edge a deep declivity covered with trees and bushes, which formed the lofty bank of the rapid foaming river Logen—we halted. We were in sight of the falls called the Hunnefos. The river is broad and rapid; and the falls, although not of great height, are nevertheless picturesque. Above the old road an embankment of loose stones sloped up to the main route, which was not very far above us, although overlooked from the road; the spot now overgrown with short turf was sufficiently level and out of the way for our camp. We were all rather sleepy, and wanted rest; the day had become very hot. Esmeralda had not felt very well; a very small quantity of quinine helped her on the journey. Having decided to remain here, the donkeyswere driven down the old road for a short distance. From this spot we had a beautiful view of the falls; our camp was probably not far from the station of Aronsveen. It was delightful to lounge among our baggage after we had unpacked. The road being a sort of cul-de-sac, we left the donkeys to ramble below. Noah went in search of bread and butter to a farm-house, and procured a small loaf and half a pound of butter, for one mark and a half; the loaf was black bread and small. Several very heavy showers came on, but our light siphonia waterproof from Edmiston’s kept all our things perfectly dry. Dinner was prepared at about one o’clock; a case of the Australian cooked mutton was opened: with some hesitation we had added Australian meat to our commissariat; we had ventured to take it, like the skater who tries the ice for the first time. Our sardine-opener in the form of a fish, which cost 6d., soon gave us access to the tin of meat. All pronounced the Australian preserved mutton excellent. Esmeralda, who had been very sleepy and not very well, though revived by the quinine, did not entirely recover until after dinner. A bottle of claret was shared amongst us. It was our first day in camp, and our rule of no stimulants or smoking allowed was not rigidly enforced. Two songs with the guitar enlivened the party; then a duet, violin and guitar; afterwards a duet, violin and tambourine; finale, all the instruments together. Noah was chaffed as usual. The sun became so hot after dinner, that we could scarcely bear our terrace, placed as we were at the foot of an embankment of loose bare rocks. The donkeys escaped and went towards Lillehammer. Noah had fallen asleep, but starting up in a sort of stupor, at length succeeded in bringing them back.Some of the people passing along the main route stopped to gaze at Noah. Some few came down, and a small glass of brandy was handed to them to drink Gamle Norge. It was after all very convenient not to be able to answer all the questions asked; much trouble was saved. We had provisions, and it was not of much consequence to us, in the way we had chosen to travel, if we did not understand many words, and could not satisfy all curiosity. The trout from the Mjösen, it is said, cannot ascend the falls of the Honnefos; they are exceedingly good, and some are stated to have weighed 36 lbs. Gipsies being a restless people, Noah and Zachariah were sent to fish with two rods and some small trout flies; we had no hope of their catching anything, but it employed their time, and was an occupation for them. The water was a light snowy blue, with a strong and rapid stream. Esmeralda felt sleepy, and was threatened with the loss of a pair of gloves; yet we felt that we could not play with her, or approach her on any other terms than were honourable to both. We worked at our notes and maps while the gipsy maiden slept, and her brothers slashed the water in the rapids below; about seven o’clock Noah and Zachariah returned, as I expected, without any matchee (fish).36A number of people came down the embankment occasionally to look with curious interest on the donkeys. The animals were carefully examined, and another page was added to the natural history of Aronsveen. One interesting young person came and looked from the road above at Noah with much interest; she afterwards came a second time, and lingered ere sheleft. We decided that, as we had started so early, we should rest where we were for the night, and start early the next morning, about four o’clock.
Noah, after a coaching in Norwegian words, went to seek bread-and-butter (smör og bröd) at the farm-house. He was to display some money in his open hand as an additional inducement. No result being reported on his return, we sent him a second time to the charge for fladbröd, but they had not got any to part with. We lighted our fire; tea was made, and a pleasant meal of fried bacon, college biscuits and butter, was soon concluded. Bread was bought, when we had the chance, in order to save our biscuits.
It was now decided to have our tents pitched for the night. Noah had just made the holes with the kettle-prop, and was putting in the tent rods, when a number of people suddenly appeared at the edge of the embankment above. Down came a tall gentleman, apparently between fifty and sixty, followed by probably his son and a short stout gentleman. He said something in a tone of authority to Noah, who, not understanding what was said, went on calmly with his tent-pitching. We were at a short distance from Noah with Esmeralda, arranging some of our baggage. It appeared to us that something about illegal was said: breakers ahead crossed our mind; we must port helm. We advanced to Noah’s assistance, and said in Norsk—“Good evening;” then we quietly reached out our silver-mounted flask, and pouring out a small glass of brandy, handed it to the senior of the party. He handed it back politely for us to drink first. We just tasted it, and said, Gamle Norge.37Hetook a small sip and then emptied the glass. We poured out another and handed it to the younger visitor, whom we took to be the son, a well-dressed, nice-looking, gentlemanly young fellow, who drank some of it. His father seemed one whose views of the world were stern and not on the lively side of the picture. His son had a pleasant twinkle in the eye, and seemed rather amused at the scene. The father then began apparently asking questions. We did not understand much of what he said, and Noah and Zachariah continued putting in the tent-rods, without troubling themselves about the matter. It was necessary to say something, and we informed them we were going at four o’clock next morning, pointing to our watch; and thinking it best to clench the affair, we quietly opened our courier-bag, and handed the document kindly given us by the Presten Eilert Sundt. We felt much in the position of the Harlequin and Columbine, who are suddenly brought to a dead lock in a Christmas representation, and have to invoke for their safety some good genius of extraordinary power. We quickly observed the countenance of the senior gentleman who commenced reading. “Herr Hubert Smith from England, with Tater (Rommanes gipsies), three donkeys, and two tents, &c., travelling from Christiania to Romsdal, Voringfos, &c., to Christiansand, to see the country and study the Norwegian gipsies, etc.; with a final request that we should have help and assistance from his countrymen,” &c.38When our visitors came to the signature, “Eilert Sundt!!!” said the senior gentleman in a deep whisper to his son; the son, who was also looking over the paper, seemed equally astonished. They examinedthe seal for a few moments, and handed the document back. Without saying more, they watched the tents which were put up soon after. They seemed rather surprised at our tent with all its paraphernalia and fittings, and then politely lifting their hats and bowing, without another word they suddenly left the scene. The people who were collected on the top of the embankment as spectators evidently did not seem to understand how it was. Perhaps some terrific example was expected to be made of our tall gipsy, Noah, as a warning to all the gipsies in Norway. It is impossible to say, and probably it will remain one of the links in the history of our wanderings which can never be supplied, nor is it of much consequence.
Ewn law law, cymm’rwn lili,A’u blodau’n rhanau i ni,A bysedd rhwymwn bosi,Ffel yw hyn nid ffol wyt ti,Rhoet yn glòs, fel ar rosyn,Gwlwm da ar galon dyn.Let’s hand in hand pursue our way,And pluck the lily as we stray,Its flowers pretty we will take,—Our fingers can a posy make.This, and with a fragrant rose,Place on man’s heart, whence goodness flows.Welsh Pennillion, byLeathart.
Ewn law law, cymm’rwn lili,A’u blodau’n rhanau i ni,A bysedd rhwymwn bosi,Ffel yw hyn nid ffol wyt ti,Rhoet yn glòs, fel ar rosyn,Gwlwm da ar galon dyn.
Let’s hand in hand pursue our way,And pluck the lily as we stray,Its flowers pretty we will take,—Our fingers can a posy make.This, and with a fragrant rose,Place on man’s heart, whence goodness flows.Welsh Pennillion, byLeathart.
NIGHT ALARM—THE PURU RAWNEE—DONKEYS ADMIRED—NORWEGIAN PONIES—OUR GIPSY LIFE—NORWEGIAN FLOWERS—WILD FOREST—THE PIPE OF TOBACCO—PICTURES OF IMAGINATION—THE CRIPPLED MAN—CAMP NEAR HOLMEN—NOAH’S SELF-DENIAL—WET NIGHT—PEASANT GIRLS’ SERENADE—ZACHARIAH’S GAIETY—LOVELY NATURE—NORWEGIAN NEWSPAPER—THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED—FROKOST SPOILT.
Our tents were pitched with a balk towards the embankment, made with our blue rug embellished with foxes’ heads. The rug was stretched along our Alpine stocks driven in the ground. At the top of the embankment, some of the people still remained watching. Our largesiphoniawaterproof was stretched, and fastened over the intervening space between the tents. Only an opening was left close to the edge of the steep and almost perpendicular declivity.
The sound of the river was music to us, as it foamed in the stillness of the night. We retired within the parascenium or partition of our tent, and were soon asleep. Soundly we slept, lulled by the roar of the falls of the Honnefos; we did not even hear the noise of a small stone afterwards thrown against the tent from above, or the rush of Noah and Zachariah outside with nothing on but their shirts, nor their shouts to the people above, who only laughed, and had no doubt done it merely to take a last fond look of our tall gipsy, Noah. They must have been profoundly impressed by their very picturesque attire.
We awoke at 12.20; it was rather too early for our start, so we turned, missed the time, and awoke at half-past five instead of four o’clock. The word was given. All were soon stirring. It had rained heavily in the night. Tents were struck, donkeys packed; at a quarter past seven o’clock we wereen route. Esmeralda was as lively as possible. We were all in excellent spirits, our donkeys stepping out bravely with their loads. Our beautiful Puru Rawnee leads the way, the hawk bells jingling on its light collar of scarlet bocking. At every place we passed, we had a rush of the country peasants to see us. It was amusing to observe their eagerness to be in time, as they left their occupations in hot haste to gaze upon our donkeys. At some places we had been expected. Some mysterious intimation had been given, and the peasants were ready drawn up waiting with great expectations our approach. As we journeyed onwards, it was desirable to buy bread to save our stock of biscuits. Noah tried at one or two houses. The first was a large house where they were evidently waitingour arrival. The windows were embellished by many heads: the female sex predominated; most of the males appeared in a courtyard opening to the road. “Try here,” we said to Noah, giving him some money to take in his hand, “and say, ‘smör og bröd.’” He was not successful, for he was shown into a large room, with coffee, bread, &c., on the table. Probably he could not make any one understand, or they had no bread to sell, for he returned empty-handed. One man we noticed soon afterwards running in the distance across the fields. It was amusing to see the wild struggles he made to be in time. With much sympathy for his unwonted efforts to accomplish so much speed, we had regulated the pace of our donkeys to give him a chance.
At last we came to a quiet part of the road between two fir woods, with a narrow space of green sward on each side; a rippling stream crossed the road in its course to the River Logan. The sun gleamed pleasantly forth. Our fire was soon lighted, and our meal consisted of biscuit, Australian preserved meat, and tea. The Australian meat was much appreciated as an edible: we were all agreeably surprised to find it so good. In a country like Norway, it is indispensable to those who seek the freedom of camp-life. As we concluded our meal down came the rain, but we were prepared, and all our things were immediately under our large waterproof. Then we sheltered ourselves with the waterproof rugs, and quietly waited for the heavy shower to cease. Several carrioles were driven by, and some carts passed. Noah had to lead one pony who shied at our donkeys; another pony had to be taken out and coaxed by them. The Norwegian ponies, who are the most docile animals inthe world, were often suspicious of our harmless donkeys, who, quietly browsing, looked as unlike dangerous ferocity as could possibly be imagined. The rain ceased. It was eleven. Esmeralda and ourselves pushed on along the road with two donkeys already loaded, whilst Noah and Zachariah were putting the remaining baggage on the third. When they came in sight shortly afterwards, Esmeralda said we must pretend to be strange gipsies, and ask them where they weregellingto.
“Shawshon baugh?” (how do you do), said Esmeralda, drawing herself up with an assumed look of contempt, as her brothers came up with their donkey and baggage.
“Shawshon baugh?” said they; “where be you agelling(going) to? I suppose you Romany’s have been married some time.”
“Howah,” (yes) said Esmeralda, “we’ve been married about a year.”
We must confess to a queer sensation that by some gipsy incantation we were no longer free.
“Which is your merle?” (gip., donkey), demanded Noah, stalking up to the front.
“That’s mandys” (mine), said Esmeralda, pointing to the Puru Rawnee, which she claimed for her own. Gipsy wives have evidently separate rights of property, thought we, which we were not before aware of. “The other is my husband’s,” said Esmeralda, looking at us with her dark eyes, which made us feel as if we were merged into another individuality.
“Will you gipsies chaffer with us?” said Noah and Zachariah.
But we remarked, “Your merle’s got no tail.” This was said in disparagement of the one supposed to betheirs, for our donkeys were by no means wanting in this respect. The tail of one was perhaps rather smaller than the other’s.
“Why,” said Esmeralda, “that’s your donkey. You don’t know one merle from another.”
They had got mixed, and we had mistaken the one just come up. The serious earnestness of the gipsy girl gave us a hearty laugh. So they went on rockering (talking) in their Romany mous (gipsy language). As we journeyed onwards, how fragrant the wild flowers. Those wild flowers of Norway can never be forgotten. Gipsies like flowers, it is part of their nature. Esmeralda would pluck them, and, forming a charming bouquet interspersed with beautiful wild roses, her first thought was to pin them in the button-hole of the Romany Rye (gipsy gentleman). We were not the only party with tents and baggage; for we had noticed, as we passed along the road from Lillehammer, a number of white military tents pitched in the valley below us, on a pleasant flat of turf land on the opposite side the River Logan. We were informed afterwards, it was an encampment of the Norwegian militia for military training.
Shortly afterwards we passed a large house near the roadside, which appeared to be a gjœstgiver gaard. The people came out to look at us. Noticing some articles for sale in the window, we sent Noah back with some money, and he soon after returned with ten loaves of bread, and a pound and a half of butter, for which he paid four marks and a half. Noah said he bought all the bread they had. We were so well pleased with the acquisition, that, finding it was a general shop, Zachariah was sent back to replace his dilapidated hat with anew wide-a-wake, which cost us one dollar. When we examined the hat on his return, we read within it the well-known English name of Christy. Noah and Zachariah had each invested in a handkerchief; Noah’s consisted of four pictures of the loudest pattern. Noah’s commercial transactions had also extended to a pipe and tobacco, and he appeared smoking it to the disgust of the rest of the party. Indications of coming rain caused us to arrange the waterproofs over our baggage. Several people came up to look at our donkeys.
The bread being packed safely away, we again pushed on, and entered a wild, thick forest at the foot of some steep rocky hills. The River Logan was not far to our left. Taking the first opportunity, we now told Noah that it was contrary to the rules of our camp to smoke, and that he must at once give up his pipe and tobacco.
“No, no, sir,” said Noah, in a melancholy tone, “I must have some tobacco.”
“Well, Noah,” we replied, “we must have our wish, we have always done what we could for you, and we expect some sacrifice in return.”
Esmeralda and Zachariah joined in the request.
A slight cloud passed over Noah’s look as he dropped behind. We must, however, do him the justice to say that his temper was excellent. Noah was ever cheerful under the greatest difficulties.
As we quietly journeyed through the forest, how delightful its scenes. Free from all care, we enjoy the anticipation of a long and pleasant ramble in Norway’s happy land. We felt contented with all things, and thankful that we should be so permitted to roam, with our tents and wild children of nature in keeping withthe solitudes we sought. So we travelled onwards towards Holmen. The rain had soon ceased. Tinkle, tinkle went the hawk-bells on the collar of our Puru Rawnee, as she led the way along the romantic Norwegian road.
“Give the snakes and toads a twist,And banish them for ever,”sang Zachariah, ever and anon giving similar wild snatches. Then Esmeralda would rocker about being the wife of the Romany Rye, and as she proudly paced along in her heavy boots, she pictured, in painful imagery, the pleasant life we should lead as her Romany mouche. She was full of fun: yet there was nothing in her fanciful delineations which could offend us. They were but the foam of the crested wave, soon dissipated in air. They were the evanescent creations of a lively, open-hearted girl. Wild notes trilled by the bird of the forest. We came again into the open valley. Down a meadow gushed a small streamlet, which splashed from a wooden spout on to the road-side below. From a log cottage in the meadow above, a man quickly crawled down the steep bank, like a spider along in his web. He took his station on the bank near the streamlet’s falling water. The man was pale and wan, and begged for alms. He seemed to have no use in his legs. Could we refuse? We who roamed free as the birds of the air. We gave him some skillings. The man seemed very thankful, and we soon after saw him crawling slowly up to his small wooden cottage, from whence he commanded a view of the road. Now we came near the river-side, and pushed along to find a camping ground. We had again forest on either side. The river was near, and on the hills of the narrow valleywe could see many farms. At last we decided to camp on a rise of ground above the road: an open woodland, on the edge of the thick forest, which covered the hill above. The road wall was broken down in one place, giving passage for the donkeys, after we had unloaded them. Our things were hoisted up, and soon carried to a pleasant slope, partly secluded with scattered brushwood and trees, having a view of the road, river, and lofty hills on the opposite side of the valley. The rain commenced as we were pitching our tents. The first losses we discovered were our two caps and guard, with a carved fish at the end of it, and the green veil in which they were wrapped. It was provoking. They must have been left on the roadside when we halted near the house where we bought the ten loaves of bread; probably near Gillebo or Skardsmoen. They were of black felt, and we were now left with only the straw hat we then wore.
Our tents had not been long pitched, and our fire made, when a tall, pale man came to us from the road. He carried a wallet; had a walking-stick in his hand, and we understood him to say he was going to Romsdalen. He seemed much interested with our tents, and accepted some brandy and tobacco. The spot where our tents were pitched was near a sort of small natural terrace, at the summit of a steep slope above the road, backed by a mossy bank, shaded by brushwood, and skirting the dense foliage of the dark forest of pine and fir rising above our camp. We had tea and bread, and our Australian meat, which was excellent. The clouds gathered darkly over the mountains, and there were some heavy showers. More visitors came in succession; some had brandy. Their attention seemed divided between the tents anddonkeys. At length the rain probably prevented more from coming.
In the course of the afternoon, when we got into camp, Noah came and said, “I think, sir, instead of buying tobacco, I had much better have put the money by to get me a pair of stockings.” We asked how much he gave, and he said half a mark. “Then, Noah, give up the pipe and tobacco, and you shall have the half-mark.” Our gipsy came soon after. He had evidently made up his mind.
“Mr. Smith, you don’t like my smoking, sir; here’s the tobacco and pipe. I don’t wish you to say I didn’t do what you required.”
As Noah handed over the pipe and tobacco, one would have thought he had given up some dearly-prized treasure. Although we gave him the half-mark with pleasure, we could not help feeling some compunction; still, as “shorengro” (gipsy chief) of the party, we were bound to see the camp rules obeyed, and Noah knew them before he started. Pusillanimity and want of firmness would have destroyed the success of the expedition.
After tea we sat up to write our notes. The occurrences and events of each day must be written whilst they are fresh in the memory. Nor must they be left to remembrance, or the clear lettering of correctness and truth will be lost. What are now given are mere transcripts of notes written on the spot, and at the time. Whatever be their worth, rough as they are, it is hoped their truth will give them some value. We were glad to retire to rest. It rained heavily in the night. Once or twice the light Siphonia waterproof was blown off. Noah had to get up in the night to put it on, and to diga trench round the tents. We could feel the moisture coming in from the bank above. It was with difficulty we kept our provisions dry.
Our first Sunday morning in camp. It was one of our camp rules never to travel on a Sunday. It was made a day of rest for ourselves and the animals. We looked forward throughout our travels to our Sunday for quietude and repose. The morning was dull and wet. We breakfasted about seven o’clock. The frokost (Nor., breakfast) consisted of fried bacon, bread, and tea. The materials for a soup for dinner were put ready. Whilst it was cooking, a German gentleman, accompanied by his skydskarl, came up from the road. He inquired if we were German. Then he informed us that there was an account of us in the newspapers. Having looked at our tents, we sent Zachariah with him to see the donkeys. The German gentleman seemed much gratified, and, shaking hands with Zachariah, left our camp. Many carriages passed along the road during the day. After our dinner of soup, made of ham, peas, flour, and Liebig’s essence of meat, we remained in our tents. Some young peasant men and women came and sat in the rain outside looking at us. We gave two of the peasants some brandy and tobacco. Then all our visitors left, except four interesting young peasant girls, who still lingered. One had an umbrella, and all four standing in the rain at a short distance from our camp, sang for us a Norwegian song to a pretty Norwegian air. They had pleasant voices. We listened to them with much pleasure. There was so much sweetness and feeling in the melody. It was a serenade of four Norwegian peasant girls. We appreciated their kind attention to wanderers from a farland. Though we could not converse, we thanked them with our looks when they afterwards left the camp.