From every place condemn’d to roam,In every place we seek a home.These branches form our summer roof,By thick-grown leaves made weather-proof.In shelt’ring nooks and hollow ways,We cheerily pass our winter days.Come, circle round the gipsies’ fire,Come, circle round the gipsies’ fire;Our songs, our stories never tire.Our songs, our stories never tire.The Gipsies’ Glee.Reeve.
From every place condemn’d to roam,In every place we seek a home.These branches form our summer roof,By thick-grown leaves made weather-proof.In shelt’ring nooks and hollow ways,We cheerily pass our winter days.Come, circle round the gipsies’ fire,Come, circle round the gipsies’ fire;Our songs, our stories never tire.Our songs, our stories never tire.The Gipsies’ Glee.Reeve.
THE NEW TENT POLE—WHAT IS INDIGESTION?—PEASANTS AT CAMP—A NEW FRIEND—HOLIAKER STATION—NORWEGIAN HONESTY—LŒSJE VAND—THE TETTERAMENGRY—AN UNSOLVED MYSTERY—THE GIPSY COLLAPSE—GOOD ADVICE—INTEREST IN DONKEYS—A MOUNTAIN DISTRICT—NO CHURCH BELLS—THE BOY’S QUESTIONS—THE KJÖLEN FJELDENE.
The old man presently brought a new tent pole, for which we paid sixteen skillings. We had left Dombaas about half-past 5 o’clock. Our present camp was called by the people, “Losere.” A few peasants came to our tents, and we must say presented a starved and worn appearance. They were a kind people, and brought us firewood. We had bread, butter, cold bacon, and tea. The peasants were told they could have some music when our meal was ended. How we enjoyed the evening scene when the peasants approached our fire! and we invited them, as usual, in our well got-up phrase inNorwegian, “Ver so artig tage en stole” (Be so good as to take a seat), pointing to the turf, which was the only seat we could offer them. The moon rose upon the summits and ranges of distant mountains beyond the valley. Its pale rays gleamed in the still night on the waters of the Logan. Nature was lovely in all her beauty. As our bivouac fire glimmered on the peasants’ hard-worn countenances, furrowed with lines of hardship, we could observe the pleasure which our music gave them. Wild though it was, it seemed to suit time, place, and circumstance. The violin, tambourine, castanets, and guitar are admirably adapted for the minstrelsy of the wanderer’s life. As our music ended they left, and we retired to our tents. The ground was high; the night was cold; we had little shelter; but we were now habituated to camp life, and did not feel any inconvenience. Our sleep was ever deep and refreshing. If any of our party had been asked, “What is indigestion?” we could not have given them any decisive answer.
The morning was fine and beautiful, as we rose at 7 o’clock. From the mountain where we had camped we could see Holiaker. Our breakfast consisted of tea, and bread and butter; at Dombaas we had given our gipsies citric acid and water; it is a substitute for vegetables, which we had not been able to procure since we left theMjösenLake. Zachariah had refused to take any citric acid until he reached Dombaas; whether it was from want of vegetables we could not tell, but what with musketos, insects of various kinds, and possibly the want of vegetables, his skin was irritable to an uncomfortable degree, especially at night. This irritation of the skin we have known before in camp life. A friend of ours tentingwith us the year before, had suffered very much from similar irritation of the skin not the result of musketo bites; sometimes we thought it was nettlerash, but in two or three days after our friend had quitted the tents the irritation had disappeared. In Zachariah’s case the gipsies and ourself thought he had been bitten by creas (gip. ants) or that musketos might have occasioned it; then it was assigned to want of vegetables or impurity of the blood. Should any one of our readers be able to suggest the cause and remedy we should be much obliged for their communication. In this case, as the Cushty Drabengro of the party, we prescribed citric acid, which we carried in crystals, and dissolved in water. One peasant brought a large basket of hay for the donkeys, for which we paid a mark. The basket conveniently fitted on the back like a knapsack. Before we left our camp, we thought it might be well to buy a sheep, for we had not purchased any meat since we left Christiania, and it might be prudent to save our commissariat.
We explained to the peasants by aid of our dictionary, and they seemed to understand our wishes, but whether they were afterwards unable to procure the sheep, or did not distinctly comprehend, is doubtful, for our negotiations were without result. Zachariah and Esmeralda played a few airs for the peasants whilst Noah loaded the donkeys.
Soon after we left our camp the route lay between enclosures. No lack of excitement on all sides; at one house a stout good-tempered woman and a dark good-humoured seafaring-looking man, probably her husband, came out.
Finding we wished to purchase something to eat,he went with us along the road to the Holiaker station.
Whether he was the master, or a friend of the house we could not decide. In the large clean kitchen he conversed with a tall, respectable, delicate-looking woman. At first she began to make coffee for us; then we explained through the seafaring man we did not want coffee, but bread, butter, and eggs; then she commenced to boil the water for the eggs. At last we made her understand that what we purchased the gipsies would take with them.
The donkeys were brought down to the station door, and we bought a quantity of fladbröd, twelve eggs, some potatoes, 5½ lbs. of what appeared to be the shoulder of very dry wasted-looking mutton, and some salt. It was proposed to have some treacle, but we could not find the Norwegian word in the dictionary.
As we put the different things we bought down in our note book, our seafaring-looking friend priced them; an old man came in whilst we were there, and our gipsies took the things to the donkeys. Whether we misunderstood the weight of the mutton, we cannot tell, but we gave him eight marks five skillings, though we thought the price rather high. Upon counting it, they honestly said we had made a mistake, and returned three marks; they also, we found, gave us the salt and six eggs into our bargain; many lands we have travelled, but never have we met with a more honest race of people than the Norwegians. Our things being packed away by the gipsies, we shook hands with thesehonnêtes gens.
The idea occurred to us that they took us for a wandering artist. Farewell, honest people! For some timethey watched us from the house, as we went along the road towards Holiaker church.
On our left we saw the Lake by Lœsje, and at last came to a shallow stream in a large forest of Scotch firs open to the road. The soil was light and sandy; large masses of moss-covered rocks were scattered through the forest, and here and there we saw open glades amongst the trees. To a spot pleasantly secluded from the road the donkeys were driven. The day being Saturday, we expected our Sunday would be spent as a day of quiet and repose, but it was an illusory hope. The ground was covered by a kind of heath with foliage like our boxtree. We had no sooner unpacked, than the gipsies looked round and two gorgios were announced. It did not matter how secluded the spot, in less than two minutes one or two Norwegian peasants seemed to rise out of the ground; indeed if they had been smaller, and had not chewed tobacco, we should have taken them for fairies; two peasants were now gazing at our party.
The plaid bag was called for, and they quaffed brandy to Gamle Norge and filled their pipes with tobacco. One said something about a better place, but we were content to rest where we were now that we had unloaded.
The stream flowing to the Lake on the other side the road was conveniently near. A slice of fried ham and an egg each was consumed, and Noah and Zachariah were sent to the Lake to fish. When they returned at eight o’clock, Esmeralda had the tea ready; they had caught five trout, which were soon in ourtetteramengry(gip. frying-pan) with four eggs. The news had spread. The peasants came in numbers; whilst Esmeralda was fryingour fish our visitors earnestly chewed and spit in all directions about our fire; some went to the donkeys, some inspected our things, the rest closed in upon Esmeralda, who could scarcely complete her cooking.
We could see indications of a white squall on the usually smiling countenance of our gipsyHobbenengree;53sometimes she shoved them right and left, and said something about gorgios getting in her road.
“Now then!” said Esmeralda in afume, “chiv the Metteramengery, just dik the gorgios all round. I can’t think what they all want to see.” It was very excusable, our peasant friends had never seen our donkeys, or tents, or gipsies before, still if they would have left us quietly whilst we were at tea we should have much preferred it. When we were seated near the fire, the peasant men, women, and children closed round us; it was difficult to decide, as we watched their countenances, whether they thought our meal well or indifferently cooked; it might not have been up to a dinner produced at Les Trois Frères, (we hope the Communists have spared it). Nor had we champagne frappé, but under the circumstances we found our tea from Phillips’s, King William Street, a very good substitute. Esmeralda was an excellentcuisinière, especially when the gorgios gave her sufficient elbow room; nor had we any means of ascertaining their ideas as to the luxury of the diet. This with some other matters must remain one of the unsolved mysteries of this book. The intense and solemn earnestness with which our visitors watched every scrap we ate was interrupted by a peasant woman’s child, who was taken with a cascade fit, and very near made an importantaddition to Zachariah’s pannikin of tea. This closed rather abruptly our soirée. Noah went to pitch the tents, Esmeralda put up the tea things, and though rather reluctant, as she said, to play for the gorgios, at our request accompanied Zachariah on the tambourine. Our visitors seemed much pleased; Zachariah was irrepressible with Romany chaff, although I had cautioned him to be careful when we had visitors. The music ended, eleven o’clock came, no signs of any one leaving; what with Esmeralda shouting from the inside our tents at those who touched the outside, and Noah and Zachariah tumbling with wild merriment, we wereau désespoir, until taking hold of Zachariah, we threw him, after a brief tussle, into the tent, and caught him such a box that he was effectually silenced. There was a gipsy collapse. We informed the visitors we wanted to go to bed, and they quietly left, except some few who still clung to the donkeys at some distance away.
We began to think we should end our days as a showman, or the respectable manager of a strolling company of players. It was a beautiful moonlight night, as we strolled forth for a few minutes before retiring to rest. Just going to sleep, we heard Zachariah’s voice, in melancholy and watery tone: “Mr. Smith’s tired of me,” whimpered he; “next time he’ll try and do without me; some people change. Mr. Smith’s changed; I hope he’ll get another as will do as well.” We seized the opportunity to explain his real position, and his proper line of conduct; the gipsies had received much kindness from us, we shared with them our provisions whatever we had. Somehow gipsies, donkeys, tents, and accessories seemed to have become part and parcel of our existence.They gave us a dreamy happiness, as we floated along by mountain, river, lake, and forest. The gipsies’ wild energy never flagged; we could pull through any difficulty; wet and fine, storm and sunshine, still our tents found a resting-place in the wild scenes of a beautiful and hospitable land. The gipsies saw the force of our observations, and with “cushty raty” to all, we were soon in a sound sleep.
We did not get up very early; it was nearly nine o’clock; Esmeralda had a slight cold. The morning was very fine, and the last three or four days had been very warm. Noah went out, and found the peasants had already collected, and were increasing in numbers. Noah made tea, fried two excellent trout with four eggs, which, with bread and fladbröd and butter, formed our frokost.
The visitors were so numerous that we had breakfast in our tent. Whilst at breakfast a peasant would occasionally try to look at us through the opening we were obliged to have for ventilation. We were at last obliged to speak rather sharp to those pressing against our tent, and they were more careful; we had very little fault to find. We do not believe they would ever give intentional annoyance; in fact, the kindness we received on all occasions throughout our wanderings will ever be remembered.
As the sun rose our tents became very warm; we strolled out, dressed in our light blue flannel jacket, white waistcoat, light trousers, long Napoleon riding boots, and straw hat, which was the only one we possessed. It was a deliciously warm morning; on the opposite side of the lake we could see the Kjölen Fjeldene rising above it. Our camp was in a large forest, extendingtowards the Stor Horungen. The Jora Elv, which we had crossed near Dombaas, flows between the Stor Horungen and Hundsjö Fjeldet; then on its left banks are the mountains called “Sjung Hö” and the “Tvœraatind,” and on the right the “Mjugsjö Hö,” “Skreda Hö,” and beyond are the wilds of the “Snehœtten”. The Jora Elv falls into the Logan near Dombaas. This extensive tract of mountain, forest, lake, and river is as yet, we believe, little known to anglers.
We bought twelve eggs from a peasant woman for twelve skillings; a boy brought six trout, which we also bought for twelve skillings. We confess to feelings of melancholy that, with three fly-rods and an immense stock of flies, in a country like Norway, we should so far lower our dignity as a sportsman as to buy trout. Still four hungry people to be fed much influenced the purchase. We hoped for better things, which might remove this passing shadow from the annals of our angler’s life.
It occurred to us to go to church, but there was the uncertainty as to the time the services commenced, and whether there would be any service on that particular Sunday. In some districts service is only held on occasional Sundays, as we remember to have been the case in some parishes in Wales. The country churches are built of wood; we only met with one exception. No church bells in the valley sounded over the waters of the lake.
A large number of peasants congregated round us as we sat down on a rock; wherever we moved there they came. As we lounged about near our tents, and looked round at the peasants of all sizes and ages, females with children in their arms, young girls and ragged boys wandering after us through the rocky mazes of the brokenground, like a comet’s tail, but not quite so luminous, we resigned ourselves to our fate. The peasants seemed as interested as usual, and we conversed as well as we could with them. They are a friendly, kind people. One boy spoke English very fairly, though he had never been in England; there was an intelligence about him which pleased us. Several questions were propounded, one was whether we had grapes in England—if we had much fruit—whether we could fish free—what kind of winter we had in England—if we had been in France and Germany? The boy was much astonished when we told him we had not only been to France and Germany, but all round the world. The boy was told, if he would come to our camp in the evening, he should have an English book as a present.
Notwithstanding frequent solicitations that we would give them some music, we remained firm, and gave our reasons. They asked if we had any objection to a peasant playing. They were told to please themselves, so that it was not close to our tents. The peasant had a large, powerful, fine-toned accordion, and, if it had not been Sunday, we should have managed a pleasant concert.
Noah and Zachariah had leave of absence till three o’clock; they returned at half-past two o’clock. Having crossed the lake in a boat, they had been for a ramble on the “Kjölen Fjeldene.” A peasant boy had offered them the use of the boat if we stayed a day longer. Our dinner consisted of six fish and five eggs, fried in oil, with black bread and tea. Though our visitors were then reduced to about twenty-five persons, at three o’clock there were again fresh arrivals; one peasant womanbrought the donkeys fresh grass. They hurried up in parties, perspiring in the warm sun, inquiring for “den asen.” Then they hastened as fast as they could over the rocks to where they were. Endless discussions were held over them; our poor donkeys must have been much astonished at their sudden importance.
Thy gipsy-eye, bright as the starThat sends its light from heaven afar,Will, with the strains of thy guitar,This heart with rapture fill.Then, maiden fair, beneath this star,Come, touch with me the light guitar.Thy brow, unmarked by lines of care,Deck’d with locks of raven hair,Seems ever beautiful and fairAt moonlight’s stilly hour.What bliss! beside the leafy maze,Illumined by the moon’s pale rays,On thy sweet face to sit and gaze,Thou wild, uncultured flower.Then, maiden fair, beneath this star,Come, touch with me the light guitar.
Thy gipsy-eye, bright as the starThat sends its light from heaven afar,Will, with the strains of thy guitar,This heart with rapture fill.Then, maiden fair, beneath this star,Come, touch with me the light guitar.
Thy brow, unmarked by lines of care,Deck’d with locks of raven hair,Seems ever beautiful and fairAt moonlight’s stilly hour.What bliss! beside the leafy maze,Illumined by the moon’s pale rays,On thy sweet face to sit and gaze,Thou wild, uncultured flower.Then, maiden fair, beneath this star,Come, touch with me the light guitar.
ESMERALDA AT THE LAKE—OUR CADEAU—THE VISITORS—DISAPPOINTMENT—AN ADONIS—THE SILENT VISIT—THE OLD MILL—A NORWEGIAN FOX—THE PURU RAWNEE’S FALL—THE FOREST SCENE—ZACHARIAH’S TORMENT—UNDER DISCIPLINE—MUSIC IN THE FOREST—DISTANT ADMIRERS—THE ENGLISH HUNTER’S GIFT—OUR GIPSIES FISHING—THE MILITIA CAMP—SILENT VISITOR—ORNAMENTAL FLADBRÖD—A FOREST CONCERT.
Some of the peasants, especially women, were most anxious to explore the hidden recesses of our tents, but this could not be permitted. Our gipsies were very well conducted, and quiet in their demeanour, as befitted the day.
After dinner Esmeralda, who had washed and dressed herself in her robe with silver buttons, accompanied us for a quiet stroll to the shores of the lake; her brothers were left in charge of the tents. The distance was not very far. Seated on a wooded knoll above the shores of the lake, we watched its silvery waters and the picturesque outline of the Kjölen mountain; its patches of snow near the summit were not yet melted by the summer’s sun. How enjoyable was life in the wild mountains near the smooth lake whose silvered waters seem ever smiling; all seemed in repose as we breathed the pure air of heaven. The lake, we understood, was called the Logan Vand. A peasant woman, at a house near the lake, asked us to come in, both going and returning, but we preferred the open air.
We returned to tea at about seven o’clock. A large number of peasants were scattered in all directions about our camp and round the donkeys. Four eggs were boiled for our tea, with bread and butter. After tea, we presented our friend, the boy who spoke English, with “Views of Jerusalem and its Environs.” The boy read a passage,vivâ voce, from it in English with great correctness and good accent; the present pleased him very much, and we were glad we had thought of giving it to him. If we spoke to a peasant a crowd immediately collected round us. It appeared to disappoint them that music was not permitted, but we were quite firm.
At nine o’clock we wished them good night; still they remained, and a large number kept wandering round our tents. Some few lighted a fire of juniper; the smoke blew towards our tents, and Noah rushed out with an alpenstock and put it out.
The hum of voices at length became less distinct, and we were thinking of retiring to rest. Esmeralda was already partly asleep behind her tent partition, we were seated opposite our gipsies, when another party came up from the road. One was upwards of six feet high, and dressed differently from the peasants’ usual costume—a tall young fellow with a very long pipe. The waterproof cover was arranged so that the entrance to our tent was only about two feet high; the tall visitor, who seemed to have been enjoying himself, and was rather unsteady, lay down on the turf, so that he could see us. At first he said to Noah, “Spille a little,” meaning that we should play. Then he turned to us, “You speak English?” But when we spoke to him, he said, “I cannot understand you.” Then he asked Noah if he spoke Norsk. Noah’s knowledge of the Norsk language was still very limited. Our tall visitor, whiffing his pipe in a half-fuddled state, kept saying in English, “I have beautiful girls, mony, mony—you have beautiful girls.” We said, “Nei, nei.” And as he said something about “den asen,” we pointed in their direction, and he went off with his friends to see them. We thought they were gone, when our tall Norwegian suddenly came back again, and lay down on the turf. After a pause he said, “Spille a little;” and then said, “I hear you have beautiful girl; I should like to see her. I have beautiful girls—mony, mony.” He tried to pull the curtain aside, but we prevented him, with “Nei, nei.” In vain we wished him good night; still he kept saying occasionally, “You have beautiful girl, I have heard; I will show you my beautiful girls—I have beautiful girls, mony, mony.” His friends, however, seemed anxious to get him away, and at last, with some reluctance, he leftour tents, probably to join the beautiful girls, of which he said he had mony, mony.
At the last moment, before going to bed, we strolled out in the stillness of the night. We were just at the moment standing in the shadow of some firs, when we observed the figure of a man advancing noiselessly towards the tents. When he saw them, he retired, and soon after returned, followed by another man. We could only just discern the two figures as they advanced, step by step, cautiously towards the tents. They paused. Very probably they thought we were all fast asleep, and did not wish to disturb us. They stood for some short time gazing motionless at the tents, and then retired as quietly as they came.
At half-past five o’clock we were again bustling about. More peasants came even at that early hour. The man from the house near the lake brought six trout, which we bought for six skillings. An old woman brought some grass for the donkeys. One woman brought milk, but too late for breakfast; not being able to carry it with us, we did not buy it. An old peasant woman, with a peasant man in a red cap, wanted us to play some music for them. They looked disappointed, when we said we were going off at once.
It commenced to rain when we were packing, and we were anxious to proceed on our wanderings. We turned from our camp to the road, and bade adieu to our peasant friends, whom we left sitting in the rain, looking at our now-deserted camp.
Proceeding up the valley, the views were pleasing. The rain was not heavy. At Motterud a curious old mill attracted our attention. Passing through the hamlet ofMoseneden, as we understood it to be, we reached the open forest just beyond, and halted on the right of the road. Our middags-mad consisted of tea, fried fish, fladbröd, and butter. Some peasant girls watched us at a distance in the forest. A jolly, pleasant old man came to us, and a boy, with a large hump on his chest instead of his back. The order was given to load, but no donkeys could be found; fortunately a stream of water between two deep banks at some distance gave us a clue to the direction they had gone.
After some trouble, and a hint from the jolly peasant, the donkeys were found near the hamlet of Moseneden, on the borders of the forest, and brought back. When Noah was loading the puru rawnee we presented the jolly peasant with an oil bottle just emptied. The peasant seemed very pleased with his sudden acquisition of fortune, and showed it to the peasant girls, who brought down a Norwegian fox for us to see.
The girls had the fox fastened by a chain. It is called a “Rœv” in Norwegian, and is smaller than the English fox, being rather lighter in colour. Foxes are very numerous in some parts of Norway. The peasant did not smoke, but the usual discussion took place about the donkeys.
At this juncture a storm of rain came on, and my gipsies disappeared with the baggage under the large waterproof. The peasant contented himself with the scanty shelter of the trees; and we were protected by our light waterproof coat. Whilst we conversed with the old man, Noah now and then put his head out from underneath the waterproof, and would say “Blankesko.” Thepeasant, looking round, could see nothing, and appeared puzzled to understand what blacking shoes had to do with his observations about the donkeys. Sometimes it was “meget godt,” or a “Romany” word, or scrap of a song, with smothered laughter from Esmeralda. We spoke to Noah afterwards, and he promised to be more careful. Some license we permitted among themselves, to exhaust their exuberant spirits.
The rain ceased. The donkeys were loaded. Wishing the peasants adieu, with mutual salutations, we continued our route through the forest. Scotch firs, and light sandy soil; no enclosures—nothing but open forest. Here and there, the trees were scattered thickly near the road. Occasionally we came to an open glade. Zachariah, who had gone on before, fell asleep on a rock on the road-side. As we came near, he suddenly jumped up, and our puru rawnee, taking fright, shied across the road, and fell all fours under her load.
Of course there was a torrent of Romany and English poured by Noah on his brother’s devoted head. The puru rawnee was unloaded, and fortunately unhurt. The place where she fell was soft, with loose sand. Our journey continued, and at about half-past four o’clock we came to some open greensward in the forest. The road made a curve round it. At the farther corner, sloping from the road, about a hundred yards distance, at the foot of a wooded bank, near a small narrow purling stream of clear water, we pitched our tents.
A picturesque mountain, with pointed summit, rose to view above the dense mass of forest trees which intervened between our camp and the Logan. On the other side the stream, a narrow green mossy glade,fringed with thickets, diverged to another bend of the main road through the forest.
Our tents, when pitched, could be seen from the road. Zachariah suffered every kind of misery it was possible to imagine from irritation of the skin, resulting from bites of insects or impurity of blood—perhaps both. His feet were the worst. We made him bathe his feet in warm water and oatmeal, which relieved him very much. At night, when he was warm, the itching was intolerable. Instances of this kind only experienced at night without eruption or rash on the skin’s surface, we had met with before in camp life. Yet it does not seem to be a common occurrence in gipsy life. Potatoes enter largely into their diet in England. Noah’s feet were slightly troubled with this irritation. When an opportunity occurred, we determined to dose them all with brimstone and treacle.
Noah went to look out for a bonde-gaard, and purchased some fladbröd for twelve skillings, and a pound of butter for one mark. Just before tea, a boy in a red cap came to our tents. The boy was a fair, interesting, slim boy, about seventeen. His features were good. There was a serious earnestness about him which we admired. He had a small quantity of brandy to drink, and he left. Then his father and mother came, as we supposed them to be, to the tents, and some other people. They came from the farm-house, where Noah had bought the fladbröd. The father was a bearded, thickset, middle-aged man. There was a look of much intelligence about him. Whilst we were taking our tea and fladbröd and butter, they all sat on the opposite side the stream looking at us. Noah commenced pitching ourtents directly after. When Noah had put up our tent, and our things were all arranged in it, they seemed much astonished. After we had shown them the arrangements of our tent they were going away, when we went after them, and said, if they came back, we would give them some music. Noah and Zachariah played several airs. Esmeralda began to remark upon our visitors’ appearance; but we very sharply rebuked her, and, murmuring something about not being able to say a word, she retired submissively into the privacy of the tents. Upon an expedition of this kind it is necessary to maintain discipline.
One of our female visitors had a child slung on her shoulders. When they had left in the still hour of closing evening—so delicious in the forest—we sang two songs to the accompaniment of the guitar, violin, and tambourine.
Our health had wonderfully improved. Continued and incessant reading was now impossible. The mind transplanted, as it were, to new fields of observation, gathered fresh tone and vigour. The physical senses became quickened. The disturbing influences of the busy world were felt no longer. Seated on the turf near our tents we were busily engaged writing our notes. The gipsy girl came noiselessly behind us—so quietly we did not hear her, as she came from the tents in her stockings, treading lightly on the green sward. Silently she gave us a chuma (gip. kiss). It was a kiss for reconciliation. We looked up surprised. A peasant boy, till now unseen, stood looking through the bushes in amazement. He did not appear to comprehend the scene, nor could we give him any explanation. We turned, and wereagain alone. What could we do? We dismissed it as the chimera of a forest dream. We had forgotten it; yet it is upon our notes, and so it is left.
Several peasants were looking at the donkeys quite late. We alone were up. They afterwards came to our tents, and conversed till we wished each other good night. The musketos continued their attacks during the evening.
The morning was very rainy. About eight o’clock some people came and walked round our tents. We were not up. They walked away without observation. When we got up at half-past eight o’clock, the rain had partly abated. We were not troubled with musketos in our tent during the night. Zachariah was much benefited by the oatmeal and water. A mark’s worth of fladbröd was consumed for breakfast; this, with the addition of butter and tea, completed our meal. Whilst we were at breakfast the farmer’s son came by carrying three calves’ skins on his back, accompanied by some peasant boys. Nearly all the Norwegians carry hunting-knives by their sides. Another boy afterwards passed by our tents with a long pole, used as a “fisk-stang,” or fishing-rod. After breakfast two women tramps, or “highflyers,” as the gipsies called them, passed along the road. One had a child fastened on her back, and was leading another by the hand. They seemed astonished at our tents and donkeys, and sat down looking towards our camp for some time.
The weather being unsettled, we sent Noah and Zachariah with their fishing-rods towards the Logan. They were told to try a lake in that direction through the forest. Directly they were gone, a man and some boys came to see us, and the man had some tobacco. Hepossessed a pipe which he seemed to prize very much; the pipe had been given him by an English gentleman named Ferrand, who had been in the mountains, reindeer hunting. Our visitor was a fine strong fellow, and said that the reindeer were numerous in that part of Norway. The hunter was exceedingly pleased with the tents, as also another man who afterwards came.
In the course of the morning a carriage and pair passed along the road; they were evidently English. We heard one young lady exclaim, as she caught sight of our camp, “What an awfully comfortable tent.” A lady in a carriole followed them. They stopped a short time in contemplation and then continued their journey, which we hope they enjoyed as much as we did ours.
A young Norwegian traveller and his wife drove up in aStolkjœrre. They both got down and came to our camp, and asked a number of questions about the donkeys.
We made a sketch of our camp whilst Esmeralda, or “daughter,” as her brothers sometimes called her, went up to the “Bondegaard.” Esmeralda returned with twenty-three fladbröd cakes, and eight extra ones given as a present by the farmer’s wife—a kind, homely, respectable woman. She was very busy baking, and asked Esmeralda in, and said they should come down for some music in the evening.
The rain cleared off, and about half-past three Noah and Zachariah returned. Noah had caught twenty-one and Zachariah ten grayling and trout, some of fair size. The addition to our provisions was very satisfactory. All thefish had been caught in the river Logan; some of the fish were immediately fried, and eaten for dinner with fladbröd. Noah was the subject of some amount of joking about his success, and we kept an account of the number of fish he and Zachariah had caught during the journey. At half-past four o’clock we started them off again to the river. After Esmeralda had cleared up her things, and put the dinner away, she went up to the “Bondegaard” for another pound of butter, and a mark’s worth of flabröd and salt. Whilst she was away a militia soldier in dark green uniform tunic, and cap, came by in a “Stolkjœrre,” a sort of light cart. When he saw our tents from the road, he pulled up. After waiting some time, looking towards our camp, he came down and saluted. It appeared he had come from the camp near Lillehammer. As one who had had some experience in camp matters he appeared much interested in our arrangements. We explained everything as well as our knowledge of the language permitted. After he had drunk to Gamle Norge, he returned to his conveyance. Then his wife came down, and looked at our tents; she also drank to Gamle Norge,54and then returned, and they continued their journey.
The soldier and his wife seemed very quiet and respectable people. Esmeralda had only just returned when down came three travellers from their carrioles. Our visitors were in light summer blouses and straw hats, and had round tin cases suspended from a strap over their shoulders; they were evidently men of education. One, I believe, was from Throndjhem, another from Drammen,and the third from Christiania. We answered their questions about our tents, and informed them they were English gipsy tents (zigeuner). Our visitors were apparently going to Romsdal themselves. As we shook hands we hoped their journey would be a pleasant one. When they were gone another traveller drove along the road in a carriole, and came down. He was dressed in a white round-crowned hat, black surtout coat, and possessed a German silver watch-chain. He wandered about our tents; we could not make much of him; whatever we said scarcely produced a word, and we at last left him to continue our writing. Then he came and looked over our notes as we wrote—a breach of good manners which occasioned us to shut our book. He then walked away to our camp spade, scanned it very minutely, and left.
The farmers’ wife came down to our camp with her three children, and made us a present of some fladbröd and milk. The fladbröd we had from this farm was the best we met with in Norway. They made three kinds: one kind of fladbröd was very thin, and stamped with curious tracery that made us regret its demolition; so much did the ornamental fladbröd excite our admiration that we managed with much care to bring back one specimen to England. A representation of it is now given, together with an ornamental Norwegian box-lid which we afterwards found on the shores of the Lille Mjösen. We trust the fidelity of the engraving will be recognised by the farmer’s wife if she ever sees this book. We told her our music would commence at nine o’clock.
After she had left, an old peasant with a round cap came, and we showed him our tents and donkeys. He seemedin raptures with the donkeys, and kept exclaiming Peen giœre! Peen giœre!!—meaning very beautiful. This was a common expression of the peasants as they lifted their hands and expressed their admiration of our donkeys. As far as we could make out we were near “Lœsjeskogen,” and the station of “Lesje Vœrk.” On our right are the mountains of the “Stor Hö,” and the “Sœter Fjeld.” Across the Logan are the Tœver Fjeld, Hyrion Fjeld, and the Skarvehöerne. We should think this would be a good position for fishing, and reindeer hunting, though we scarcely think the reindeer hunting of these parts is so good as formerly, and a sportsman must seek the wilder recesses of the mountains.
Our gipsies, Noah and Zachariah, returned. Noah had caught four trout, and Zachariah one. Although cautioned specially, Noah had been wading, and his feet were very wet. Some of our trout were fried for tea. Three men and a woman came down to the stream, and watched withinterest our method of cooking. After tea we gave our visitors some music—guitar, violin, and tambourine. It was a very damp evening, and few visitors came. At last Zachariah broke a violin-string, and the rain commencing, ended our concert.
“There was a gipsy’s tent, close beside me, and a party of about ten of this wandering tribe were seated around a wood fire, which habit seemed to make them approach closely to, whether it was cold or hot weather.”SéñorJuan de Vega, the Spanish Minstrel of 1828-9.55
“There was a gipsy’s tent, close beside me, and a party of about ten of this wandering tribe were seated around a wood fire, which habit seemed to make them approach closely to, whether it was cold or hot weather.”SéñorJuan de Vega, the Spanish Minstrel of 1828-9.55
NOAH UNWELL—THE TINE—NEW SCENES—THE LEPER—HASTY DEPARTURE—LESJEVŒRKS VAND—WELL MET—AGREEABLE WANDERERS—SPECIALTY OF TRAVEL—DELICIOUS TROUT—LAKE SCENERY—NORWEGIAN POSTMAN—NIGHT VISITORS—MORE TOURISTS—MOLMEN CHURCH.
Immediately after our music had ceased, Noah was taken ill with severe rheumatism resulting from getting wet. Our services as the “Cushty Drabengro.” (Gip., “good doctor”) of the party were in requisition. He was sent to lie down in the tents, and we rubbed his back and body well with brandy, giving him a stiff glass of brandy-and-water to drink. All had retired to rest, but ourself. Hearing voices near our donkeys, we went up and founda number of peasants and peasant girls near them. We had an idea that they had been teasing them. Taking the peasants down to our tents they looked round our camp, and when we wished them good-night they left. It rained heavily as we went to sleep.
Much rain had fallen in the night. We looked out about seven o’clock on the morning of 13th of July; the rain had ceased, but misty clouds gathered thickly on the mountains. A fire was lighted, and Noah was better, and we made him rub some of our bruise mixture on his knee.
Noah promised never to go into the water again. As we were getting our breakfast, the farmer’s son passed with a wooden bottle of milk and a wooden “Tine.” This word is pronounced “Teena.” It is a small wooden oblong box with a slide lid used for carrying provisions. A box of this kind is in common use all over Norway. Some of them are curiously ornamented, according to the fancy of the possessor. For Frokost we had fried trout, fladbröd and butter, and tea. Two women came to our camp; one were men’s Wellington boots, and they were both knitting.
Whilst Noah was packing up, he said he dreamed we lived in a beautiful wooden house, and were going to the East Indies. The gipsies dreamt very often of their Romany Rye—sometimes Noah, sometimes Esmeralda, and sometimes Zachariah. It was impossible to leave such a beautiful camping-ground without regret. Whilst we were getting our things together three young tourists, carrying their knapsacks, came to our camp; they were very intelligent, agreeable companions. One of them said his father lived at Veblungsnœs. They left before thegipsies had loaded our donkeys. The weather now cleared up, and we were soonen route. As we afterwards passed “Lesje Jernvœrk” (ironworks), we saw the three tourists at the station. Mr. Bennett, in his handbook, says it is a tolerable inn kept by civil people. Our road lay through a pleasing diversity of lake, mountain, and pine forest. The tourists soon afterwards overtook us; one knew something of French, and we were able to converse more at ease. As we passed a house on the road-side, we observed our silent visitor in black surtout coat, and German silver watch chain, standing outside immobile with all his schoolboys. He was a schoolmaster. They seemed as a guard just turned out, and not a sound was heard as we passed. The peasants evinced the usual curiosity. One old woman who was knitting exhibited great signs of pleasure. One of our tourists said she was in an “extasy.” We had the donkeys, much to Noah’s chagrin, stopped for her inspection. The usual exclamation “Peen giœre!” was marked with much emphasis. Our tourists had gone on. The old lady followed along the road. As we went down a short descent to a bridge, we noticed a beautiful level camping-ground along the brook-side, sheltered by a few bushes, at a convenient distance from the road.
The camping-ground was all we could desire; saying, “We will camp here for to-night,” the word was given to halt. The donkeys were driven down to the brook-side. The old lady, who had been joined by three boys, still walked after us. The gipsies were so busy unloading that they did not pay much attention to our visitors.
As we suddenly looked round we were astonished at the appearance of one boy about sixteen; his face wascompletely eaten up with a kind of leprosy (spedalskhed) frightful to see. The boy wore a cross-belt, and carried a knife. He withdrew behind some bushes close by, perhaps to screen himself from observation, when he saw the countenances of ourself and gipsies—we had only had one glance—it was quite enough. Esmeralda said she should never forget it. It was quickly decided that it would be impossible to eat anything in comfort whilst the unfortunate boy was near our camp. One donkey was already nearly unpacked, but we did not see why we should be troubled with the vision of the afflicted leper whilst we could move to a more favoured spot. Ordering the donkeys to be reloaded, which my gipsies obeyed with wonderful alacrity, we were soon againen route.
The old lady was talking to a man driving a cart, apparently full of school children. He had pulled up at the bridge. They were evidently discussing a variety of matters relating to us. Without looking behind, we left the poor boy and his companions in complete possession of our intended camp.
At a stream of water we overtook our three tourists, lying down. Two had their shoes and stockings off, and were bathing their feet. Telling them we should push on till two o’clock, we left them.
Following the main road in sight of the “Lesje Vœrks Vand,” a lake seven English miles long, and 2,050 feet above the sea-level, we reached a stream flowing into the lake. Descending to the bridge, we crossed the stream which flowed down a sheltered gully. There was a convenient camping-ground on the brook-side below the bridge and near to the lake. A few bushes between our camp and the lake made the spot more sheltered. Wehad just unloaded when our three tourists came up. Before they left we presented each with one of our gipsy songs. Zachariah in a very short time added a beautiful pink trout from the lake to our broiled ham, fladbröd and tea, for dinner. Up to this time Noah had caught thirty-seven trout, and Zachariah thirty-four. Taking Noah with us after dinner, we went through a wild tract of moorland, thinly treed, along the lake for about three English miles. After crossing some wild streams, we came in sight of the wooden church and the station of “Molmen,” which stands a short distance from the road. Noah went down to the station, while we lounged by the side of a stream near the road, and wrote up our notes.
“Molmen in the distance,” we mentally observed. Out came pencil and book. There was a charm in one’s existence as we seated ourself on the turf which formed the bank of the clear pure stream. What mingled hues of delicious colouring caught the eye as we gazed on the various grasses, wild flowers and heath which formed the nature painting of the scene about us. The mind had not long been engaged in quiet contemplation, when we observed a gentleman in a straw hat walking along the road drawing after him a light kind of truck. Underneath the framework, on a suspended netting, we noticed his knapsack,sac de nuit, and other articlesdu voyagefor the use of his family. The gentleman and his light truck was followed by his family. Three good-looking grown-up daughters, and their friend orgovernante; two young boys in long Alpine boots, holland trousers and check shirts, and a fine large black dog followed after. It was a case of nomad meet nomad, wanderer meet wanderer,each following his own idea, and each, I believe, thoroughly enjoying his own will and fancy. How could we be mistaken, there was a joyous expression of countenance. One rapid glance was sufficient. They were happy in their way of travel. Far happier than very many we met in their carrioles or stolkjœrrer as we journeyed up the “Gudbransdalen.” An interest quickly gathered round the travellers as they passed, which riveted our attention. They were gone, we were left, yet we seemed to regret that we had not somehow made their acquaintance. Pencil in hand we still lingered by the stream when we saw the tall form of our gipsy Noah coming along the road. One mark’s worth of fladbröd and ten eggs for 18 skillings had been purchased. Noah said the gentleman who had just passed had seen him at the station, and finding who we were, had asked about our camp and wished to see it. Noah told him we were staying in sight of the road near to the lake. As we soon after returned towards our camp, the gentleman and his family were resting near a house on the road-side. Very shortly after we had reached our tents, we heard their voices in song, as they walked along the road. We listened with pleasure to some pretty Norwegian air which came to us on the wind. Very soon they reached the bridge. We both saluted as we went towards them from the brook-side. We were two wanderers happily met. Each following his own speciality of idea. Each apparently successful in result. Our baggage was heaped on the ground as they came a short distance from the road to our camp. Our visitors conversed in Norsk, French, and English. He asked if it was not very cold and damp on the ground. They saw our donkeys, and our various things, includingthe guitar and tambourines. The gentleman was a Mr. B., of good position in Norway, who had landed from the steamer at Veblungsnœs, with his light truck and family, and had travelled through Romsdalen when we met. At parting we presented one of the young ladies with our gipsy song, and with mutual good wishes we watched them ascend from the bridge of our retired gully, and disappear over the top of the abrupt ascent.
The time was half-past five; the small amount of success we had had fishing during our travels was not calculated to raise our reputation with the gipsies as an expert angler. Up to this time we had not caught a fish. Noah had caught fish; Zachariah had caught fish. Esmeralda had cooked them, and we had only eaten them; something must be done. Metteramengry56(Gip., “tea”) was postponed. Noah was told off to accompany us. The fishing-rods and tackle were ready, and we were soon on the light gravelly shore of the charming lake. It was all that could be desired for fishing, yet we did not for some short time get a rise.
Ah! what! a fine trout heavily fighting; no landing-net, but he is safely landed, just one foot long. The light evening breeze caused a ripple on the surface of the lake, another rise and another trout hooked. Our tackle was light, and just as we had him at the shore he broke the fly. It was but the glance of an instant as we saw him steady himself in the water. At once we were in the lake, and threw him on the shore with both hands. The trout was caught, and equalled the first in size.
How lovely the gleams of evening sun upon the lake. The romantic islets, and the rising mountains from theopposite shore. Again we have another trout hooked; this time it is a very fine one. Steadily and calmly we handled a difficult adversary, and landed our trout without a landing-net on the lake shore. The trout measured one foot four inches. Noah, who had caught nothing, was astonished, and soon after we returned to our camp at seven o’clock. Esmeralda and Zachariah had our tea ready, and the largest trout was soon in the frying-pan. Pink as salmon the trout eat with a delicious flavour, and was soon consumed with our fladbröd.
After tea the postman pulled up at the bridge. We had seen him before, and some men came up who appeared to have been surveying. Zachariah then played his violin, and Esmeralda her tambourine, and Noah put up the tents whilst we lounged on the turf, and the men gazed at us from the road. When our tent was up we took Esmeralda’s tambourine, and she went to arrange our things for the night. The peasants left when the music ceased. It is not so easy to play the tambourine. Much suppleness of the hand is required. The exercise is excellent for the arms and fingers. The roulades and the burr of the jingles with the tips of the fingers require practice. Noah gave us a lesson when our visitors were gone. Then we had more peasants. One woman we imagined wished to know if we wanted coffee, and did not seem to think we understood clearly the luxury she proposed. She went to each in turn, and at last gave us up in despair. The peasants who came to see us seemed hard driven for an existence, their clothes were patched and mended, and their faces expressed endurance and hard life. Noah, who was much better, had a glass of brandy-and-water before retiring to sleep. After ourparty were at rest for the night we heard the voices of women, and went out of our tent. It rained hard; the women were at the top of the ascent by the bridge, looking at our tents. One had an umbrella. The sound of talking was very distinct for some time after we had gone to bed.
The night was wet, and the morning damp and drizzly. We were up between seven and eight o’clock, and went fishing in the lake before breakfast, where we caught another trout a foot long. The breeze from the lake had given us an excellent appetite when we returned, and we found Esmeralda had cooked the two large trout of yesterday for breakfast with four eggs. The reputation of the Romany Rye as a fisherman after catching four feet four inches of trout from the lake in so short a time was completely established in the minds of the gipsies. We had no means of weighing our fish. The trout out of this lake are beautifully pink, and delicious to eat.
Frokost was finished. Esmeralda was putting the things away. The morning was now finer, and we perceived passing over the bridge two young tourists, dressed in red shirts, with white trousers tucked into their high boots, which laced up in front. These kind of boots, similar in make to the style of the ladies’ Alpine boot, seem to be much patronised in Norway by walking tourists. They appear to be excellent boots; but we doubt whether they will stand heavy mountain work with the same comfort to the wearer as our ordinary Alpine boot. During all our long and continued walking through Norway in all weathers, the strong Alpine boots made at Medwin’s, Regent Street, never gave us a single blister. Eachtourist carried his knapsack, and seeing our tents they sat down on the road-side, on the top of the declivity by the bridge, to look at our camp. When we went up to them, and asked them to come down to our camp, we found them very nice fellows. One spoke English. The donkeys were shown them, and the tents; and then we presented each with a copy of our gipsy song. They seemed much pleased. Yet, in after years, if they chance to meet with it among theirsouvenirs de voyage, they will again remember the “Englishman and gipsies” camped by the little bridge and wild stream near Molmen. After the tourists had continued on their way towards the Gudbransdalen, some peasant men and women arrived. One peasant woman seemed, as far as we could make out, to wish us to stay longer to attend somefête. Probably they wished to engage our musical services. We could not make out very distinctly what she did want. As we struck our camp and packed up, they asked us to spille57a little; but the weather was again cloudy and inclined for rain, and we at once left for Molmen. There is a very pretty wooden church at Molmen. An old man and several peasants were at the road-side near the turn to the station, which is a short distance from the road. The old man advanced and said, “Velkommen.” There was something touching in this honest and hearty and kindly word to the nomad strangers.
If the gipsies are not the dispersed Egyptians, where are that scattered people? If the dispersed and scattered gipsies are not the descendants of the offending Egyptians, what are they?The Gipsies.BySamuel Roberts.
If the gipsies are not the dispersed Egyptians, where are that scattered people? If the dispersed and scattered gipsies are not the descendants of the offending Egyptians, what are they?
The Gipsies.BySamuel Roberts.
THE RAUMA—A LOFTY CLIMB—MORE RAIN—THE FOREST WALK—TENT LIFE—PEASANT FÊTE—NORWEGIAN DANCING—ZACHARIAH’S RIDE—THE WOOD CARVINGS—A PSALMODION—STUEFLAATEN—THE ROMSDAL—MAGNIFICENT SCENERY—ENGLISH SPOKEN.
Taking Noah down to the station, we purchased one mark of fladbröd, one mark of butter, and four skillings’ worth of soap. Esmeralda had used all our stock of soap. The quality of soap in some parts of Norway is indifferent. The kitchen was extremely hot; but we went into a small comfortable sitting-room, where we inspected photographs of various eminent men of Norway, and some carved spoons, during the few minutes we stayed. As we returned to the road, the old man asked us how far we were going, and seemed disappointed when we said, “Langt.” It is probable he wished to see our camp. Our party were soon following the banks of the river Rauma.
From the “Lesje Vœrks Vand” the Logan flows south, and the Rauma, whose banks we had now reached, flows north. The picturesque lake, from which these two rivers have their source, is about one Norskmile long. The Logan falls into the Mjösen Lake at Lillehammer; the Rauma falls into the Isfjord, a branch of the Romsdal Fjord near Veblungsnœs. Romsdalen begins at Holsœt,58near our camp at Lœsje, and is about fifty-six miles long. The country through which we travelled on the banks of the Rauma was very beautiful. Molmen is a good fishing station. We saw some large trout in the Rauma, near Molmen. The same interest continued with regard to our donkeys. One peasant got out on the roof of his house to get a better view. At one place a peasant came after us, and suggested we should camp on some wild waste land through which our route passed, and across which the wind was coldly blowing. There was little shelter. The place was not inviting, and we had yet time to be fastidious in the selection of a camping ground. Having passed “Enebo,” we continued our route. Zachariah rode on the top of the baggage of one donkey, and occasionally played his violin. At length we came to a wild extent of open moorland, with mountains rising on either side. Over the plain, detached clumps of trees, gave the scene a more cheerful aspect. On the moorland’s edge, to the right, hanging woods covered the base of the mountains to a considerable height.
The picturesque mountain, called the Raanaa, dark in its wild clouds, and a mountain we understood as the Konokon, also the Kongel, the Kolhö, and Böverhö Mountains were before us. We turned off the route to the right across the moorland, and halted near a small lake by a clump of trees, in sight of a picturesque waterfall. The donkeys were unloaded in a cold wind andheavy rain. Two boys came up almost immediately, and, putting up our fishing-tackle, we followed them, with Zachariah, across the moorland to the left of our route, and, reaching the enclosure of a hanging wood on the steep bank of the Rauma, we were soon fishing in its stream. The water had a thick greenish hue. The wind was very cold, with occasional rain. Some of the throws were exceedingly good; but not a rise, and we returned in about an hour to our camp. Dinner consisted of three pounds of our dried meat, from Holaker, boiled with potatoes, rice, pea-flour, and reindeer moss, to flavour it. Very good it was: soup first, then meat, potatoes, and fladbröd, water being our beverage instead of tea when we had soup. A man and two boys came, and we gave the man brandy, and the two boys brandy-and-water. When the peasant took his brandy neat, he seemed thoroughly to appreciate it, and his visage bore marks of a fondness for aquavit. A tall, respectable-looking old man, in an ample black cloth dress coat, with a belt round it outside, to which his hunting-knife hung, and large gloves on, came up. They stood in the rain looking at us, as we sat in the wet enjoying our dinner, with the exception of the meat, which was too tough even for ourself and three hungry gipsies to masticate. The greatest part of the meat was put by, to be again made into soup.
Dinner being finished, and being extremely wet about the legs, we proposed to visit the waterfall we saw in the distance. It was about four o’clock, and Esmeralda accompanied us, whilst Noah and Zacharia remained in charge of the camp. Passing by the moorland lake, we were soon in the forest, sometimes nearly over our bootsin wet marshy ground, and at other times climbing precipitous rocks, covered with moss and foliage, overhung with pine and birch. Our route was devious and uneven, damp and moist. The vand fos was given up. A beautiful bouquet of wild flowers was secured, and at six o’clock we sighted our camp. Our feet were wet through as we came up, and found our tents had been pitched by Noah in our absence. Changing our wet things, we had tea and fried trout in our tents. It was delightful to find ourselves comfortably seated in the luxuriousness and independent freedom of our tents, in sight of the forests and picturesque fields. A gentleman came whilst we were at tea, probably from his carriole, which he had left on the main route. As he walked round the tents, he bowed, and seemed much pleased with a scene illustrating nomadic life in wet weather.
The clouds cleared towards half-past eight, and the peasants made up a large fire for us. Then they came round the tent, and we sang our gipsy song and the “Mocking Bird,” with the guitar accompaniment.
The weather being new tolerably fine, we went to the fire and played some few airs. The peasants evidently wanted to dance. Two beaux of the village were as usual there: one a slim, short, pale young man, with black surtout coat; and the other a young man in ordinary peasant costume. They began dancing together to our music, and the pale young man took off his hat very politely to Esmeralda, who was seated in the tent. Finding the peasants wished to dance, and that the turf was too uneven, we went up to the road, and taking our waterproof to sit upon, the gipsies, Noah, Zachariah, and ourself played them a number of polkas. The two beauxof the village soon found two stout peasant girls for partners, and danced to an admiring audience. Noah danced with one; but he said she smelt so much of ointments he could not go on. The peasants seemed much pleased with the music—in fact, I believe we were improving. Zachariah played a Norwegian tune he had picked up on board the steamer going to Lillehammer, which seemed to suit them exactly. The pale young man in the surtout coat, and an active peasant girl, danced to it in a peculiar Norwegian step. We liked to see them. As they danced, sometimes the pale young man relinquished the waist of his partner, and they both turned the reverse way apart, keeping up the step till they again met once more, and whirled round rapidly together. The stillness of evening, with its freshness after rain, as the dancers waltzed in the midst of the wild moorland, to the sounds of the violin, guitar, and tambourine,—a thousand different dreams crowded upon our fancy. That Norwegian air!—again and again we played it, till our dancers were almost tired. The spectators apparently enjoyed looking on quite as well. There was the peasant who appreciated spirits, and many more. They are a good-humoured people. One peasant girl would insist upon Esmeralda coming up. The pale young man wished to dance with Esmeralda; but she would only dance once with her brother before he went to take her place at the tents. All things have an end. Our music ended. Wishing our friends, including our two beaux of the village, good night, we went to our tents, and the peasants soon after left. Esmeralda was rather unwell, for she had neglected to change her wet boots. Brandy-and-water was administered to Esmeralda andNoah. The night was damp and cold, and we could scarcely keep our feet warm.
Rising at about seven o’clock we went again to the Rauma; but fished without success. The morning was cold. Returning to breakfast, Esmeralda had prepared four eggs, tea, and fladbröd and butter, for the party. As the gipsies were striking our tents and loading our baggage a man and two boys came, and a little girl with some milk, but too late for our breakfast. She had brought it some little distance, and we bought it for five skillings. Leaving our camp, we passed the waterfall, and crossed a bridge, leaving the open moorland for the enclosed road. The river seemed well adapted for fish; but we do not think much sport can be obtained at this part of the Rauma. Very soon after we commenced our day’s journey, Zachariah, who had ridden on one of the loaded donkeys most of the previous day, wished to ride again. Occasionally we did not object; but our donkeys had already quite sufficient weight without the addition of Zachariah. His brother and sister were of the same opinion as ourself, and, although he alleged pain in his stomach, we suggested that walking would be its best antidote. With a wild waywardness of disposition, he soon after jumped on one of the loaded donkeys from behind, which resulted in his being pulled off with a shake, which, if it did not bring him to his senses, brought him to his feet for the rest of the day’s journey.
The Shorengro (gip., chief) of a party should be firm. Camp laws, as laid down before starting, should be adhered to. In matters requiring the decision of the directing mind, caution should be used. When settled, arrangements should be firmly acted upon; waveringand feebleness of purpose will soon ruin the success of any expedition; calm serenity of mind, and good temper through all difficulties, is indispensable. The peasants showed the same anxiety as usual to see our donkeys. The former station at Nystuen is now discontinued.
Before we reached Stueflaaten a reindeer-hunter came to us in the road, a thick-set intelligent man, dressed in good clothes and wearing long boots. The hunter spoke a little English. We went with him up to his house, close to the road. The large family room, used as kitchen and general room, was as badly ventilated as usual. Very seldom we ventured into the close atmosphere of the Norwegian farm-houses. There are, no doubt, exceptions. Many of the houses have very small windows, which do not open, and they are therefore closed winter and summer. The musketos and flies and heat are kept out, but then it is generally at the cost of fresh air, that invaluable health-producer, too lightly estimated. The room had a trap-door in the floor, with a ring to it, which somehow we always connect with a scene of mystery; some adventure requiring to be worked out with a melodramaticdénouement. The reindeer-hunter’s wife furnished us with some butter, two eggs, and some fladbröd, for which we paid one mark three skillings. The butter was of dark yellow colour, but we found it good. They had a very primitive weighing-machine, a short piece of round wood with a knob at one end, and a small hook at the other. The article to be weighed is hung on the hook, and the machine is balanced on the finger at certain marks, which indicate the weight. Several carved spoons, and an ingeniously carved butter-cup, were produced. For the butter-cup, which the reindeer-hunterhad carved himself, he wanted three marks. At our request he reached a “Psalmodion” down—a very primitive Norwegian instrument—one string stretched over a flat board, played with a kind of fiddle-bow. The sound is neither harmonious or lively, though the hunter, who played it, was probably a good performer. There was much that was ancient and belonging to a past age, in the house. We afterwards bought one of his carved wooden spoons for ten skillings, which seemed to please the reindeer-hunter very much. The carved spoon was given to Esmeralda, and ultimately broken.