“He grows, like the young oak, healthy and broad,With no home but the forest, no bed but the sward;Half naked, he wades in the limpid stream,Or dances about in the scorching beam.The dazzling glare of the banquet sheenHath never fallen on him, I ween;But fragments are spread, and the wood-fire piled;And sweet is the meal of the gipsy child.”Eliza Cook.
“He grows, like the young oak, healthy and broad,With no home but the forest, no bed but the sward;Half naked, he wades in the limpid stream,Or dances about in the scorching beam.The dazzling glare of the banquet sheenHath never fallen on him, I ween;But fragments are spread, and the wood-fire piled;And sweet is the meal of the gipsy child.”Eliza Cook.
A GORGIO—COMFORTABLE BONDEGAARDS—MORE SPEILE—THE LOST KEY—DEN ASEN TOUJOURS—VEGETABLE SUBSTITUTE—THE GOODLO DISCUSSION—WIVES’ UTILITY—FRIENDLY PEASANTS—NORWEGIAN WALTZ—GIPSY CHAFF—THE DARK WOMAN—ANXIOUS QUERISTS—EARLY VISITORS—TIMID WOMAN—GIPSIES APPRECIATED—THE CHARMING POST-MISTRESS—THE MANSION NEAR HARPE BRÖ.
No sooner had we unpacked, and our things were under our waterproof, than a gorgio was announced. As if by magic, a middle height, thick set man appeared through some birch-trees. He hesitated, and did not speak. Our silver-mounted flask was quickly drawn from its plaid bag, and we handed him some aquavët. Silently drinking, he nodded his head. Seeing the end of a pipe sticking out of his waistcoat pocket, we offered him some English tobacco, which he also took, and saying in a whisper, “tak,” vanished as silently as he came. A fire was lighted to boil the water, which Zachariah procured from a torrent in the rocks above the camp. Metramengryconsisted of tea, fried bacon, two small trout caught at Vodvang, and bread. The rain suddenly commenced, and it poured in torrents. Dark clouds gathered thickly, as we sat at tea wrapped in our waterproof rugs. Not long afterwards the silent man returned with three others, who also had brandy. We pitched our tents in the rain, and, thanks to our waterproof covering, our things were kept tolerably dry.
The view was magnificent. The broad waters of the Logan flowed in the valley below us. Islands in its stream heightened the picturesque effect. A considerable quantity of well wooded and grassy land formed the bed of the valley. Pleasant bondegaards, or farms, extended to the base of hills, crowned with forest. Beyond rose the peaks of the wild Fjelds.
Esmeralda had quite recovered from her fatigue; Noah was now quite well. Tea is a grand restorer of failing energy. Esmeralda was at once active in our tent arrangements. All things must have their place.
“Now, Mr. Smith, look sharp, or I must give you a severe doing,” and Esmeralda’s dark eyes flashed fire, and sparkled with merriment and witchery. Sometimes, when we were a careless lounger about the tents, she would say, “Dableau! you are going in and out, in and out, and never doing anything.”
Then Noah might be heard, “What are you at, Zachariah; can’t you see where you are going to? I think you are making yourself too much of a man!” An observation which Zachariah would answer with “Dawdy, dawdy, fake your bosh;” and, making a succession of droll faces, would skip about in the rain, singing, “Fem de dura.” We will not answer for the correctness ofZachariah’s intended quotation from the Norwegian peasant girl’s song we heard at our camp near Holmen.
More people came wandering about, some looking at our donkeys and others staring at our tents. They were all of the peasant class, kind, homely-looking people. It was about a quarter to 7 o’clock when we encamped. Taking our places in our tents at about 9 o’clock we commenced our gipsy Norwegian song, with guitar and violin accompaniment. Then followed our song, “Farewell;” afterwards dance music, violin and tambourine. A tolerable number of peasants were seated on the bank opposite the entrance to the tent. They sat in the rain on the wet grass until we had finished. After much talking, in which the female voices certainly predominated, they shouted “Farvel.” The interest they seemed to take in our music was most amusing. They had such smiling countenances. One young peasant girl especially kept looking at each by turns, and then laughing, until we could hardly help relaxing our expression ofinsouciance. As they departed, a peasant kindly suggested a better spot for the donkeys to graze than where the gipsies had first put them. Music being over, we all retired to bed. Just as we were dozing away, Zachariah’s voice was heard: “Mr. Smith, sir!”
“What do you want, Zachariah?”
“I have got your key and pencil, sir.”
“Never mind, go to sleep!”
“But, sir, you can’t unlock your box without it. You must have it, sir. Otta clocken, more music, ha! ha!”
Then we heard scratch, scratch wildly at work, and presently Zachariah’s voice: “I can’t stand it! I cannot stand it any longer; these skeato’s will kill me!”
We must say our sleep was sound and undisturbed until half-past 6 o’clock. Much rain had fallen in the night. It was the first of July. Noah lighted the fire, and boiled the water. Two men came to our camp and had some brandy whilst we conversed with them in broken Norwegian. One was a traveller from Christiania. We told them that if they came again we should play our music at 8 o’clock in the evening. As we took our breakfast of tea, bread and butter, and potted meat, stray parties of peasants watched us with much interest. We gave several small children some biscuits. An intelligent peasant came and asked a variety of questions about the donkeys. Another brought his wife and children. A large party came before our dinner at 1 o’clock, and a short stout, well-dressed man, with a turban cap, discussed in an animated manner various matters connected with the donkey race. Their voices seemed constantly to mingle with our ideas as we wrote a letter to the gipsies’ friends, in which Esmeralda inclosed some beautiful wild flowers.
We sent Noah and Zachariah to the river to fish for dinner. When they were gone, a peasant boy came up with a large sack of hay, which he gave the donkeys. We were touched by his attention; for some time he silently watched them. Before he left we gave him a copy of our gipsies’ Norwegian song. He took us by the hand, and looked with such a kindly expression in our face, that we could not help feeling that the world, after all, was not so bad as we had thought it. As a substitute for vegetables, crystals of citric acid, dissolved in water, were occasionally taken by ourselves and the gipsies. Noah and Zachariah were full of fun when theycame back from fishing at 1 o’clock, having caught six small roach and perch.
“Ha! ha!” laughed Zachariah, “Mr. Smith, I know some good flies for my fishing this evening. All right, sir;” and he danced a war dance on the turf till he fell backwards over a birch tree stump, to the great amusement of himself and the peasants who were watching us with continuous interest.
We had tea, fish, and balivas (gip. for bacon) for dinner. Sugar was a source of difficulty. In putting the sugar first into each pannikin before the tea was poured out, Zachariah was not considered an example of economy. Not that we were inclined to limit very strictly his penchant for it, but we were not sure where we might be able to get more when our stock was finished.
Esmeralda was busy. We were writing. Noah therefore officiated, whilst Zachariah, with a look of injured innocence, stood by, and said—
“I shall not have anything more to do with the goodlo” (gip. for sugar); a resolution we entirely agreed to.
Still Zachariah often had more than any of us, which he would occasionally acknowledge with “Thank you, sir,” “God bless you,” “Quite enough, sir,” as he stirred it up in his pannikin with an air of extreme satisfaction.
The bacon and fish at dinner were excellent; we hardly knew which was best. A peasant boy brought us a bundle of sticks for our fire. The sun became exceedingly hot. Esmeralda and myself went and sat in some shade near our tents. Zachariah found a shady corner under some rocks. Noah first looked out a few things in his tent for Esmeralda to wash. Then he afterwards stoodin the shade of a birch tree, blacking his boots, and observed to Esmeralda—
“I shall not help my wife as Mr. Smith does you.”
“Well,” said Esmeralda, “what is a wife for?”
“For?” retorted Noah sharply, giving his boot an extra brush, “why, to wait upon her husband.”
“And what,” said Esmeralda, “is a husband for?”
“What’s a husband for?” exclaimed Noah, with a look of profound pity for his sister’s ignorance, “why, to eat and drink, and look on.”
It would seem to us that the more rude energy a man has in his composition, the more a woman will be made take her position as helpmate. It is always a mark of great civilization, and the effeminacy of a people, when women obtain the undue mastery of men.42When Noah had finished blacking his boots, he went with Zachariah to take the donkeys for water along the road towards Listad As they turned, Noah and Zachariah astonished the peasants by racing along the road mounted on thedonkeys, with their faces to their tails. Noah and Zachariah afterwards went fishing.
We lounged on an eminence writing our notes, and Esmeralda washed for us a shirt and collar, and some of her own and Noah’s things. We had a succession of visitors all the afternoon. Some wore red caps; all were deeply interested in the donkeys. In fact, if we could have kept them secluded in a tent, we might have made a large fortune by exhibiting them. We had, however, no wish to do so. Our peasant friends were welcome, and if our wild music gave them pleasure, they were welcome to that also. They certainly showed us much civility and kindness during our wanderings. We cannot forget them.
When we were at the tents at 6 o’clock, Zachariah had returned with two small fishes, and Noah with one of tolerable size. Having made a hurried tea, a large number of peasants collected, before 8 o’clock, about our camp. The music commenced at our tents soon afterwards, and then to give them an opportunity to dance, we went outside. There was a good space of ground close below our tents, but a tree was in the middle of the ground. This was at last uprooted by the peasants. Our beau of the village on this occasion was a thin, rather roughly-dressed, young man, but an inveterate dancer. The gipsies at once named him Arthur. If a house had interfered with the convenience of the dancers instead of a tree, it is possible that he would have pulled that down also. Of the females, two small girls were the best dancers; and they seemed thoroughly to enjoy themselves.
The dancers patronised the skip waltz. It was acurious scene. Three or four of the peasants were dressed in blue jackets with silver buttons and silver frontlets hanging from their necks.
My gipsies were particularly lively and in high spirits. The variety of costume, and any slight eccentricity of manner, was at once the subject of their criticism. We did our best to moderate their gaiety, and romany chaff, now and then as they played their wild music, we could hear.
“Dit a kei! (gip., look there) there’s Arthur!”
“Ha, ha; no it isn’t Arthur; that’s Johnny!”
“Ah, the sapeau (gip., snake)! Why, he’s got Crafty Jemmy’s nose!”
“Dik the gorgio in Uncle Sam’s stardy (gip., hat)!”
“Oh nei! oh nei! What are you a salin (gip., laughing) at?” “It’s our Elijah vellin (gip., coming) from Bosbury, a seaport town in the middle of England. Look at his chokas (gip., shoes)! Hasn’t he got bongy mouee (gip., ugly mouth)!”
“Dik that fellow’s swagler (gip., pipe)!”
“Arthur can dance! Now Arthur’s a-going it! Well done, Arthur!!”
Bang-bang went the tambourine, as the beau of the village whirled his partner round, to the admiration of the surrounding throng. There was no harm meant by our gipsies’ chaff. If anyone present had wanted their assistance, they would have been the first to give it them. It was quite impossible for them to remain quiet; naturally impulsive and gay, they must laugh in their lightsome moods. There were some young ladies, and apparently their brother, sitting near.
As we were standing with Esmeralda at our tents,whilst Noah and Zachariah were playing, a dark thick-set, heavy-featured old woman pressed through the throng round us. She had all the appearance of a gipsy, when she suddenly shook Esmeralda by the hand. We thought she was a Norwegian Zigeuner. Then she took hold of Esmeralda’s large necklace, and tried to take it off, before she could recover from her surprise. Immediately we saw what she was doing, we pulled her away, and she retired in silence through the crowd. We saw her afterwards, sitting on a bank, watching us.
It is ten o’clock, and our music ends, saying, “God nat (Nor., good night), god folk (Nor., good people).” We retired to our tent. Most of our visitors left. One young gentleman, who spoke English, said to Noah outside our tents, “A little more music.”
“I can’t, sir,” said Noah. “The master never has any playing after ten. You should have come before, sir.”
The young gentleman who had the young ladies with him then asked Noah what time we went in the morning.
“At 9 o’clock, sir,” said Noah.
One of the young ladies then inquired in English if Noah could tell fortunes.
“No,” said Noah; which no doubt was a matter of great disappointment.
Then the gentleman asked Noah his sister’s name.
“Agnes,” said Noah.
What next will he tell them, thought we, being anxious for him to go to bed.
Then one of the young ladies asked his sister’s age; and Noah told her sixteen. Then he was asked who we were. Not knowing how long they would stay—for wehad to rise early next morning, and knowing that any curiosity would only get wide answers from Noah—we went out, explaining that we had to travel early, and we liked all in camp to go to bed in good time. They did not say much, but, wishing us good evening, they all left. The young gentleman spoke very good English. We were still troubled with a number of children, making a noise about our tents, until after eleven, instead of going when the music ended at ten o’clock. At last all was silence.
We were up the next morning at half-past 1 o’clock, enjoyed a good wash, lighted a fire, and had Noah and Zachariah up about 2 o’clock. We were anxious to give them all the rest possible; Esmeralda was called the last. For frokost, we had tea, fish, bread, and potted-meat; Esmeralda and myself had some citric-acid afterwards. Our donkeys were nearly loaded, and ready to start at 5 o’clock. We were just having a romp with Esmeralda and her two brothers, as we were packing up our things, and a merry laugh, when some men appeared at the fence near our camping-ground. They seemed much astonished, and rather disconcerted; probably, they expected to find us asleep. They lifted their hats, and soon afterwards left. Our donkeys loaded, we looked carefully round to see that we had collected all our effects. The main road was soon gained, when we descended from the steep ridge on which we had camped. We had now travelled more than five Norse miles from Lillehammer, or thirty-five English miles, as we proceed quietly along the road from Listad.
We could never tire of the beautiful valley of the Logan. Our mode of travel gave us ample opportunityto study its varied scenery. At any points of interest we could halt, without the thought of being behind-time at the next post station, or of being reminded by the Skydskarl that we were lingering too long. It was about seven o’clock; the morning was very sunny and pleasant as we came to a place said to be Tresgone. The name is not marked in our map. Noah and Zachariah went to a small log-house, near a mill, at the foot of a gorge, to purchase bread and butter. Directly the woman saw them, she shut the door with considerable haste; their Alpine stocks had created a sudden alarm. After reconnoitring them through her window, confidence was restored; she opened the door and did a stroke of business, selling us four loaves for fifteen skillings. A man on horseback, with white hair, kept with us occasionally for some miles; he had, naturally, white hair, like an Albino, and not the result of age. For some distance, at different points on the road, the peasants hurried from their work, and, with anxious faces, struggled to be in time to see our party pass; sometimes, an aged man, with serious weather-beaten face, wearing a red cap on his head, was awkwardly scrambling towards the road-fence, followed by a woman and children. At other times, two or three men would race along the road-fence and take up their position at some distance before us, waiting the moment when we should pass. In fact, at times, we almost felt as if we were marching past the saluting-point, leading a company at a review, though the group of peasants differed much from a staff of officers at a saluting-point; we had, nevertheless, to stand the test of what appeared to be a close and scrutinizing examination of our company.
At one time, Noah played his violin as he sauntered along. Occasionally, Zachariah was a short distance in advance, with the donkeys, and the peasants collected at the road side, would politely take their hats off to him, an honour Zachariah appeared much to appreciate. We reached Branvold,43and at a station on the road side, we found we could post our letters. The house was remarkably clean and comfortable, and had, apparently, excellent accommodation. The civil pige found us a pen and ink, and went to call her young mistress, who had not yet left her room. We met a gentleman staying there who had been passenger on board the steamer on the Mjösen Lake; he went out to look at the donkeys. The young post mistress took our letters; one letter was to the gipsies’ friends. She was a very agreeable, pleasant-looking girl, who spoke English with an admirable accent. We paid eight skillings, which she said the postage would amount to. Soon after we had left the station she came running to us, and said, “Mr. Smith, it is sixteen skillings;” and received the money. Shortly after, she came driving up in her carriole, and said, “Mr. Smith, I find it is sixteen skillings more.” In truth, we were not sorry to see her again, she was such a kind, pleasant, merry girl, withal neatly dressed, and good-looking. We laughed, as we held out the palm of our hand containing a number of Norwegiancoins that she might count out what she wanted; nor did we omit to pay a just tribute to her knowledge of the English language. After the young post mistress had left us, we came along the road towards a large house, having more of those characteristics of the country gentleman’s residence than any we had yet seen. The house stood in its own grounds, at a short distance before we reached the turning from the main route to “Harpe Brö.” When we passed by it, the gentleman and his family were assembled near the entrance-gate to the grounds. He was a fine, tall, gentlemanly man, accompanied by a very good-looking young lady, who stood near him. She was the best-looking young lady we had yet seen in Norway. Two young gentlemen, we supposed to be sons, were also there.
The gentleman lifted his hat, and seemed to give us a kindly welcome; we returned his salutation. There was something pleasurable in such kindly feeling; we little think how much we can do in this world to lighten a lonely wayfarer’s heart.
“We remounted, and I rode on, thinking of the vision of loveliness I was leaving in that wild dell. We travel a great way to see hills and rivers, thought I; but, after all, a human being is a more interesting object than a mountain. I shall remember the little gipsy of Hadjilar long after I have forgotten Hermus and Sipylus.”N. P. Willis.
“We remounted, and I rode on, thinking of the vision of loveliness I was leaving in that wild dell. We travel a great way to see hills and rivers, thought I; but, after all, a human being is a more interesting object than a mountain. I shall remember the little gipsy of Hadjilar long after I have forgotten Hermus and Sipylus.”
N. P. Willis.
THE VELOCIPEDE—ROADSIDE HALT—LOVELY SCENERY—DISAPPOINTED AUDIENCE—THE LITTLE GIPSY—THE LOST POCKET—THE SEARCH—GIPSY LAMENTATION—AMUSED PEASANT GIRLS—NORWEGIAN HONESTY—THE POCKET FOUND—A NOBLE HEART—PLEASANT VOYAGEURS—PATRINS—STORKLEVSTAD—TAMBOURINE LOST—NORWEGIAN HONESTY—ECCENTRIC VISITS—INTERROGATORY—THE CAPTAIN—THE INTERVIEW—THE VILLAGE MAGNATE—MEGET GODT—ESMERALDA IN CAMP—THE LAST VISIT—THE MOORLAND MAIDEN.
We had not gone far along the road, when we saw a blacksmith’s shop; a man suddenly appeared from it, and came towards us on a velocipede.
“Why,” said Esmeralda, “there’s avelocity”!
“What broad wheels,” said Zachariah.
“It’s Arthur coming to town,” answered Noah.
The man was working it along might and main, with his hair flying; he was a strong framed man, with an intelligent countenance. The velocipede was probably manufactured by himself; although very roughly made, he managed to go at a fair pace; when we came to the route turning from the main road to “Harpe Brö” our companion with the naturally white hair, who had occasionally ridden with us during the morning, and bywhose assistance we had increased our vocabulary of Norwegian words, wished us good day.
At a short distance beyond the blacksmith’s shop, as our donkeys were in advance, they strayed off the road into an open fir wood. Two young ladies, and a man had followed us for a short distance; they seemed to think we were going to halt in the wood, and as they stood watching us, we thought they seemed disappointed, when the donkeys were driven back to the road, and continued their journey. It was rather too early in the day for rest. Sauntering quietly along, we at length came to an open space having a wooden seat; this accommodation we particularly noticed in Norway at some points on the wayside. Generally, in a pleasant romantic spot, the ground is gravelled from the road, and a long wooden seat is placed for the convenience, and rest of the weary wayfarer. In selecting this spot, care is taken that it is near water, and close by, we usually found a deliciously clear stream, to slake the travellers’ thirst. On this occasion we at once commenced unloading our baggage near the wooden seat, and as we did not intend to remain very long, Noah left the pockets girthed on two of the donkeys, who soon after wandered off to graze.
When we looked round we were struck with the beauty of the scene. Not far above us, on the opposite side the road, a log cottage stood lonely on the side of a steep rising hill. A brawling stream passed underneath the road near us; we saw it again, as it issued from a narrow brick arch, and was soon lost in the bushes of the declivity, which formed the bank of the Logan just below.
The picturesque summit of a mountain closed the narrow valley from the world beyond.
Leaving our things by the seat, we went down to the stream at the arch below the road, and crossed to a small patch of green sward on the other side. It was quiet and sheltered, and our fire was soon lighted. Tea, sardines, bread and cheese, formed our repast. A woman from the log cottage came down and stood near looking at us. We gave some biscuits to a small child in her arms; Zachariah was sent off to fish. It was about 10 o’clock when we arrived; the view was charming; Noah lounged on the grass with the violin; as he was tuning it up, a young man came and leaned over the rails of the road above, in silent contemplation. He is expecting some music. You little think, my young friend, the treat you are going to have, thought we. When Noah began to scrape, the effect was marvellous; we turned, and the young man was gone. The sounds ceased, for Noah himself fell asleep. Esmeralda had a very fair voice. It was pleasant to hear her sing at times, as we walked along the winding valley of the Gudbransdalen. Now we amused ourselves talking by the camp fire, and as we reclined on our waterproofs, we wrote down at her dictation, one of her ballads: “The Little Gipsy,” with the addition of a few words, by a gipsy aunt, where Esmeralda’s memory had failed. We now give the song in its entirety. It has been long a favourite with the country people.
1.My father’s the King of the Gipsies, that’s true;My mother, she learned me some camping to do,With a packel on my back, and they all wish me well,I started up to London, some fortunes for to tell.2.As I was a-walking up fair London streets,Two handsome young squires I chanced for to meet,They view’d my brown cheeks, and they liked them so well,They said, My little gipsy girl, can you my fortune tell?3.Oh yes! kind sir, give me hold of your hand;For you have got honours, both riches and land.Of all the pretty maidens, you must lay aside;For it is the little gipsy girl that is to be your bride.4.He led me o’er hills, through valleys deep, I’m sure,Where I’d servants for to wait on me, and open me the door;A rich bed of dowle, to lay my head upon.In less than nine months after, I could his fortune tell.5.Once I was a gipsy girl, but now a squire’s bride,I’ve servants for to wait on me, and in my carriage ride.The bells shall ring so merrily; sweet music they shall play,And we’ll crown the glad tidings of that lucky, lucky day.
1.
My father’s the King of the Gipsies, that’s true;My mother, she learned me some camping to do,With a packel on my back, and they all wish me well,I started up to London, some fortunes for to tell.
2.
As I was a-walking up fair London streets,Two handsome young squires I chanced for to meet,They view’d my brown cheeks, and they liked them so well,They said, My little gipsy girl, can you my fortune tell?
3.
Oh yes! kind sir, give me hold of your hand;For you have got honours, both riches and land.Of all the pretty maidens, you must lay aside;For it is the little gipsy girl that is to be your bride.
4.
He led me o’er hills, through valleys deep, I’m sure,Where I’d servants for to wait on me, and open me the door;A rich bed of dowle, to lay my head upon.In less than nine months after, I could his fortune tell.
5.
Once I was a gipsy girl, but now a squire’s bride,I’ve servants for to wait on me, and in my carriage ride.The bells shall ring so merrily; sweet music they shall play,And we’ll crown the glad tidings of that lucky, lucky day.
Two men with carts passed whilst we were resting, and they halted to look at our donkeys.
It was nearly 2 o’clock, when myself and Noah went up to the wooden seat to load the animals. As we were standing by our things, a carriage passed, a gentleman driving with apparently his son, asked if we were going to camp there, we told him we were going on; He asked how many miles we travelled in a day, and we answered fourteen or fifteen. They wished us a pleasant excursion, we wished himbon voyage, and, lifting our hats, he drove on. Two donkeys were packed, and Noah brought up the third. Where’s the pocket? said Noah, looking rather wild. “Pocket?” said we, “isn’t it among the things?” No, sir, we never took it off; “it must have slipt off somewhere.”In fact, we had not taken the pockets off two of the donkeys, but one pocket had been pushed off by the Puru Rawnee, against the road rails, whilst we were at lunch, and Noah had placed it by the seat; what had become of the other we could not tell; we both went some distance along the road where they had been browsing, but could not find it. Esmeralda was much enraged. All her things with Noah and Zachariah’s scanty stock, and their sheets, tent blankets, and sleeping blankets, were also in the lost pocket. We went up to the house, and managed to explain to two women the position we were in. Noah said: “Sir, it must have been taken off, for there is no mark on the road where it has come down.” Esmeralda fixed her suspicions on the unfortunate cart drivers, who had been looking at the donkeys; we repudiated the idea, and said they were driving the wrong way to have done so. A vigorous search was made, with the help of the younger peasant woman, amongst the bushes of the steep bank, between the road and the river, where the two donkeys had been also wandering, but no pocket could be found.
We decided to go on. To the young peasant girl, who seemed as anxious as ourselves for its recovery, we gave a mark, and an address, so that the pocket, if found, might be sent to Nystuen, to the “Herren mit drei asen.”44Esmeralda rode one donkey, and in no very enviable frame of mind, we hurried along at a rapid pace.
Noah exclaimed, “I could sit down and cry, sir. I don’t want no tea—I can’t eat.”
“Well, I can,” said Esmeralda, boiling with indignation.“I know it is taken; we shall never see it again. My small smoothing-iron, I would not have parted with it for anything, I have had it so long; and my dress—” and she half gave way to a flood of tears. “It will do them as has taken it no good.”
Zachariah had just joined us from the river without a fish.
“Ah,” said he, in a weeping tone, “my pretty dicklo (gip. handkerchief) is gone.”
I believe this handkerchief constituted nearly the whole strength of his wardrobe.
“It is fortunate,” said we, “both pockets were not lost. We must manage as well as we can; some shelter is left, and all our provisions. It might have been worse. You shall have more blankets, Noah. We are quite sure the pocket has not been taken; they are honest in Norway—far more honest than most other countries we have travelled.”
So we pushed along till we saw a blacksmith, and two other men standing at the road side. We explained our loss to them as well as we could. They pointed to a fir wood above us as a convenient camping-ground, but we wanted to proceed on our journey, and went on. At the next place we came to, we purchased four loaves of bread for fifteen skillings. At one large house we passed, near the road side, a large number of persons were assembled, probably at some fête. There was a general rush to see us. When we came to a large wooden water trough on the road side, some girls who saw us, ran down the meadow above; they were great loosely-dressed peasant girls, who laughed at us immoderately.
“What are the sapeaus (gip. snakes) crying about?” said Esmeralda, in no very good temper.
At any other time she would have laughed with them.
“Ah! the Bongy mouees” (gip. ugly mouths), shouted Zachariah. “They were tolerably well slap-dashed in Romany, as I have no doubt we were good-humouredly in Norwegian.”
We had not gone many yards from the water trough, when the young woman we had seen at our mid-day halt, came running round a corner of the road. She seemed half fainting and exhausted, and, staggering to the water-trough when she saw us, she dashed some water over her face, and hurriedly drank some. We at once stopped the donkeys, and the girls above the road ceased laughing. They seemed puzzled at the scene. We went to the poor girl, who said, when she was able to speak, she had found the pocket, which had slipped off the donkey close to the river’s edge. It was lucky it had not rolled in. Being satisfied from the things she found inside the pocket, that it belonged to us, she had followed us with it, and at last left it at some place on the road, so that she might more quickly overtake us. It was decided that Noah would take one of the donkeys, and go back with the peasant girl for the pocket. We were profuse in our thanks to her; she was a good, honest girl. We don’t think our gipsies will ever again believe, that such a thing as dishonesty, is possible in Norway. Pulling out a large handful of money from our pocket, we pressed it into the girl’s hands. She wished to give part back; it was too much, she did not like to take it all. We would have no denial; as she was returning she took out her handkerchief in which she had placed the money, andagain offered us part; she did not like to take so much. We made her put it back. Under such circumstances what cared we what the sum was; we felt inclined to give her all we possessed, she had been so honest. How much inconvenience we might have experienced, but for the activity and kindness of this Norwegian peasant girl. Shaking her heartily by the hand, she returned with Noah. We may never meet again; we do not even know her name. Yet there is a world beyond this. May her fate be with the blessed of a future and eternal life. Continuing our route, we left behind usBurre, and the turn toKvikne. It may easily be imagined we went along in much better spirits; all was sunshine. Noah would follow with the lost pocket, and find us in our camping-ground. Patrins,45intelligible to our gipsy party, were strewed as we went alongthe road. Pieces of grass,46to all appearance scattered carelessly along the route, yet they had a meaning, and a language which a gipsy easily reads. The points of the grass indicated the way we took.
Although anxious to finish our day’s journey, we could find no convenient camping-ground. We met the gentleman we had conversed with in the morning. His son descended from the carriage to lead the horse by the donkeys. Kindly salutations were exchanged. Noah said that when the gentleman afterwards met him, he said, “Your master seems a pleasant gentleman.”
“‘Well, sir, he’s always the same,’ I answered, and the son gave me a cigar, whilst the gentleman sent his kind regards to you, sir.”
Our camp rules were relaxed, and Noah was of course allowed on this occasion to smoke. We continued our way up a narrow gorge between high mountains, but did not find any convenient camping-ground. In the distance we saw log houses near the river Logan. These were Storklevstad, Viig, and Qvam. As we descended the road we noticed a rough narrow way on our right, with a telegraph post in the centre. Zachariah went and reported that it led to a large common extending to mountains beyond. Esmeralda and myself were at first inclined to continue our route. As we were considering, a young man having the appearance of a carpenter came by, and we asked him if we could camp there. He said “Ya, ya,” and the lane being too narrow,and awkward for the donkeys to go up loaded, the man helped us, very kindly, to unload our heavy packs, and assisted us to carry them to a rock on the common; we gave him two demi vers of brandy. The distance we had travelled had been long, the weather seemed inclined for rain, and we were glad to get in for night quarters. This corner of the common was bounded by hedges. Under a thick high hedge on the common side we made a fire, and our tea was soon ready, with ham fried in oil, and bread. Noah came in time for tea, and, selecting a camping-ground on the common, put up the tent-rods. The moorland, extending up a mountain, was covered with large masses of rock and low bushes. Visitors soon came. An old man with a wallet gave our donkeys some bread whilst we were at tea, and we gave him some brandy. Women and children came, and were very civil. Our tents were soon pitched, and arranged, and our things carefully stowed away. The waterproof was so placed over our tents, that our visitors were obliged to sit down, in order to see us through the opening.
Noah searched for his tambourine, but it could not be found, to his consternation; we came to the conclusion that it must have been left on the hedge bank near the water trough. Noah was loud in his lamentation, when a peasant suddenly brought it to the tent. We had left it where we supposed, and the peasant honestly restored the tambourine. We gave him a good recompense with many thanks, though he did not seem to wish any money reward. We had seldom met such kindly people. Gladly we commenced playing our music, and having recovered all our things, we were much pleased to find ourselves in a comfortable camping-ground for the night.Scarcely had we commenced playing, than the crowd of people increased round our tents. It was as much as we could do to keep them from crushing the tents in. One little man in spectacles, and a curious turned-up hat, with a knowing comical expression of countenance, came crawling into our tent on all fours. First he looked up at Noah, then at Zachariah, then at Esmeralda, and then at myself. We did not stop our playing. He put up his finger as a signal for us to stop, but we could not interrupt the tune. Then he expectorated freely on the intervening space in our tents; fortunately, that part was only turf, but the absence of saliva was at all times preferred. Then he stared curiously through his spectacles, being still on his hands and knees. Some village magnate, thought we. Then he suddenly summoned all his energy, and asked loudly all kinds of questions in Norwegian, whilst we continued our music. We thought he was slightly intoxicated, but it may have been an eccentricity of manner. He seemed to know some words of English. Noah said “Don’t know” to most questions. We could distinguish the word Tater, and Noah said “shoemaker,” and nodding at Zachariah, “cobbler.” Then he addressed some question to ourself, to which we answered “Nei, nei.” “Jeg gaae Romsdalen,” still persevering, he pointed to Esmeralda, who was rattling her tambourine, and he seemed specially anxious to know what part she took in the economy of the tents. At last he was quiet for a short time, and some one who did not like his attempted interruption of the music, pulled him out by his legs. Alas! he soon returned, crawling in again to the tent, expectorating as usual. Noah seemed his grand point of attack. AddressingNoah, he pointed to us with a look of triumphant discovery, and said, “Artistique,” but Noah did not seem to comprehend.
We are afraid his pertinacity met with very little reward. A considerable number of persons continued round our tents, and we finished music towards 10 o’clock. Then our visitors wanted more music. It was very complimentary to our musical talent, but we did not play after 10 o’clock. One young man who spoke some English, came to us, and asked to have more music. We explained that we had been up at 2 o’clock that morning, and did not allow music after 10 o’clock, and wanted to go to bed. Our visitors did not go for some time, but kept talking, and making a noise, until nearly 11, when we gladly fell asleep.
Another Sunday. We welcomed the day as we ate our breakfast of tea, potted meat, and bread. Then the word was given that the gorgios47were a vellin. Many visitors soon collected, who were so curious, that one of our party had to stand at the entrance to the tents during the morning. A young man in long riding boots and horseman’s cloak, with a whip in his hand, speaking English and German, informed us that an English captain would shortly pass if we liked to see him. We said if he were going to Lillehammer he might render us a service. An intelligent young Norwegian peasant said he would let us know, when the captain came along the road. We conversed some portion of the morning with our visitors, and added to our knowledge of Norsk language.
At last the young Norwegian came and said the captain was come. We took Noah and the young peasantwith us, and started towards the village of “Qvam.” After a sharp walk we reached a post station on the road side near the river, and leaving Noah and the peasant in the large kitchen with a bottle of “Baiersk Öl,” we went into an inner room to see the captain.
The officer, whom we expected to find an Englishman, was Norwegian. The French language was at once our medium of communication. We quickly explained that we had lost two hats between the Honnefos and Moshuus, and ifen passanthe heard of them, we were anxious to have them forwarded to Nystuen, and a handsome reward would be given. He looked at our route on the map. Monsieur le Capitaine was just going to dinner; a fine pink trout was served up. The captain asked us if we were going to dine, but was informed that our dinner waited us at the camp. He said he should be happy to inquire, and should meet us next morning, when he was returning. The captain spoke French very well, and at first sight we should have taken him for a French officer. There was a gentlemanly frankness about him which pleased us. Although not tall, he was of compact build, strong, and energetic, much indication of prompt and rapid action—one prone to vigour of thought, and quickness of decision. He possessed the bearing of a military man. We regretted we could not see more of him. Giving him our card, and shaking hands, we parted.
Noah and the Norwegian were allowed another bottle of “Baiersk Öl” on our return to the kitchen, and taking a sip to drink “gamle norge,” we immediately left.
The peasant returned with us. At a short distance from our camp, the village magnate came forth from a house, still wearing his curious turned-up hat. The littleman seemed rather pleased to see us. As he advanced with a comical expression of countenance, he appeared to have something of importance to communicate. We politely paused a moment. He wanted to—to—“sell us a cheese!”
The peasant took a share of our dinner which was ready in camp. We were obliged to take our dinner inside our tents, on account of the number of visitors. They were never absent. It was a matter of conjecture whether they ever ate anything themselves; they seemed to be at our camp from morning till night. Our sensations were probably similar to those formerly experienced by the lions in Wombwell’s well-known menagerie, when viewed at feeding time.
Esmeralda had the soup ready, which consisted of white beans, pea flour, rice, and Liebig’s essence of meat. Our peasant, as he sat on the grass near us, with his bowl of soup, seemed thoroughly to enjoy it. We gave him some English Cheddar cheese, from Hudson Bros., which seemed to astonish him; and we heard him say to our interested visitors “meget godt” (very good).
Whilst we had been absent, one young fellow, who spoke a little English, came to our tents, and presuming too far upon Esmeralda’s good nature, received a severe blow on the shoulder with a stick, which shut him up. Probably to raise his spirits, he asked Zachariah to give him some of his master’s brandy, which resulted in a sharp answer, and he left the camp.
During dinner time a large number of visitors carefully watched our smallest movements. We had no idea we could possibly meet with so much solicitude asevinced, by the good people of Storklevestad, Viig, and Qvam.
After dinner, leaving our gipsies in charge of the tents, we retired to the mountain, to enjoy some quietude, and contemplation. How we watched the beautiful scene before us! The Blaa Fjeld, and the picturesque river Logan! The nature of this world, as God made it, is ever beautiful. Who can tire of its contemplation?
When we returned at 6 o’clock, throngs of visitors—as a German would say, “Immer! Immer!”—were grouped about the tents. Esmeralda was at the fire preparing for tea, with several young fellows buzzing about her. We seemed to come like a cloud upon their sunshine. Their fun was harmless, but obstructive to our chances for the next meal. Esmeralda was sent into the tents to get the tea things ready. Noah soon brought the tea, and we did not go out again. Our visitors wandered about round and round our tents, sometimes gazing at the donkeys, then returning, till about half-past 10, when they all left.
How calm and quiet the Norwegian night, when the hum of voices is hushed! How delightful, as we looked forth from our tents! Then we distinguished three figures gliding over the moorland towards us. They approached; it was about 11 o’clock. There was the bright-eyed, good-looking Pige, whom we had noticed at our tents during the day, without shoes or stockings. Now she had some stockings on, probably borrowed from some friend, to give her a more respectable appearance. She was followed by a little boy and girl; and as she hovered near our tents, she pointed to Noah, and then towards her cottage in the distance. She made love bysigns. In vain we wished her “good night.” Poor girl! She still lingered, sometimes pointing to herself, and then towards the village.
We were just going out to persuade her to go home, when Esmeralda asked, why we should trouble ourselves about her.
“Why should we?” We at once gave up the diplomatic mission. Zachariah was sent outside the tents instead, and made signals for her to go. Smiling, she said, in a clear, pleasant voice, “Farvel, adieu!” and, kissing her hand, left.
Oh, no! she was quickly back again, followed by her Lilliputian retinue, who floundered after her among the rocks. There she lingered like the siren of the Rhine. Noah was fortunately spell-bound in his tent. Who knows, if he had gone, he may at this moment have been, a denizen of Storklevestad! She again seemed going from our tents.
Thank goodness! we are now quiet. Vain delusion! “Farvel, adieu!” She was again standing on a rock near our tents. How she lingered! Perhaps Noah might change his mind. “Farvel, adieu!” we said. “Farvel, adieu!” the gipsies shouted. She loved—she lingered. Noah came not. At last she went; but we could see her, as she went across the moorland, at times turn, and stand irresolute; till the very last, “Farvel, adieu!” of the Norwegian peasant girl died upon the wind, and we all went to sleep.