—Je ne connais pas de reine de ce nom-là.—Même parmi les zingaris?—C’est vrai, dit Fernand, j’oubliais les Bohémiens ont des rois.—Et des reines, dit Ginesta.Le Saltéador, parAlexandre Dumas.“I do not know any queen of that name.”“Even among the gipsies?”“It is true,” said Fernand, “I had forgotten the gipsies have kings.”“And queens,” said Grinesta.
—Je ne connais pas de reine de ce nom-là.—Même parmi les zingaris?—C’est vrai, dit Fernand, j’oubliais les Bohémiens ont des rois.—Et des reines, dit Ginesta.Le Saltéador, parAlexandre Dumas.
“I do not know any queen of that name.”“Even among the gipsies?”“It is true,” said Fernand, “I had forgotten the gipsies have kings.”“And queens,” said Grinesta.
BOTANISING—ESMERALDA LOST—FOUND AGAIN—THE EAGLE—MOUNTAIN DIFFICULTIES—MOUNTAIN BIVOUAC—ESMERALDA ILL—OLE’S BED—HOTEL BILLS—ROUGH ROUTE—DONKEYS IN SNOW—THE PURU RAWNEE DOWN—THE NY SŒTER—GIPSY DISCUSSION—THE ENGLISHMAN’S HOUSE—HOSPITALITY—NORWEGIAN NAMES—FILLINGSHÖ—LARGE LAKE.
No one was at the sœter. After a middags-mad of tea, bacon, potatoes, fladbröd and butter, and a rest, we continued our journey. After pursuing our rough mountain track for a short time, we left the forest of the steep mountain side, and commenced a toilsome ascent, in a warm sun, across a wild rocky ravine, bare of trees, with a stream running down it. It was not very deep. Our party slowly ascended one side of the ravine towards the higher slopes of the mountain.
Gradually Esmeralda and ourself, who were collecting wild flowers, and Alpine Flora, were left behind. Patches of snow rested here and there as we ascendedthe sides of the “Hyrjon Fjeld.” The open mountain was rocky and bare of vegetation. Gradually and slowly we ascended higher and higher, when we suddenly missed our party. Track there was none distinguishable. We ascended to some higher ridges; but could see nothing of our guide, gipsies, or donkeys. A white handkerchief was fastened to the end of our Alpenstock. We used the shrill cry of the Australian signal and cooed loudly, but could hear no signal in return. Not a vestige of human life was to be seen on the rugged mountain slopes around us. It was quite clear that somehow we were lost. We had our compass; but then, we had no idea as to the course across the mountains Ole Rödsheim proposed to take.
Esmeralda did not appear much disconcerted by the incident. It was a scene for the artist’s pencil, as the gipsy-girl ascended a hillock strewn with loose grey rocks, covered with lichen. There she stood in the evening sun, in a distant land across the sea, the blue feathers of her small straw hat, waving in the light warm breeze. One could not help feeling, that there was something more than common in this mystic race. The lone figure of the gipsy-girl, whose home was nature, seemed the queen of the wide expanse of barren “Fjeld” which she then surveyed. She gave a whistle—that peculiar shrill whistle which is known among themselves; a whistle, which, if not heard quite at Christiania, certainly must have disturbed the wild rein-deer of the surrounding fjelds from their slumbers.
We had almost come to the conclusion that we might have to spend the night as best we could on the “Hyrjon Fjeld;” just then we heard a return signal across someravines beyond us to our right. Zachariah had come back in search. They had turned sharply across the mountain slope to the right, and were hidden from view by the intervening ravines. We raced across the mountain side, and crossing some snow slopes of a ravine, getting well ahead, we kept up a sharp and rapid fire of snowballs at Esmeralda, prudently retreating immediately afterwards in pursuit of our party.81
Noah and Ole Rödsheim were waiting. The donkeys were soon in motion.
“Ah!” said Noah, who had a great contempt for botanical research; “That’s the way with Mr. Smith; he plucks a flower, and then calls daughter to look at it. She says it’s very pretty; and there they stand till nobody can tell what has become of them.”
Poor Noah! botany was not his forte. But all was sunshine again, and we quietly pursued our rough uneven way.
Our path was now in the wild fjelds. Ole had his peculiar landmarks. Sometimes it was a rock; sometimes a large stone placed edgeways or on the top of another. For some time we kept along the side of a rugged slope. A large black and white eagle soared above us with a hawk near it. It gave life to the scene. Soon afterwards we came to an old reingrav. This is a kind of pit or trap formed of loose stones, into which the reindeer were sometimes driven by the hunters. A portion of a reindeer’s horn was picked up by Noah and given to us.
Our way became more difficult. Each of the gipsies had to lead their donkey. The ground was in places very treacherous, and we often came to steep descents. The Puru Rawnee, who was loaded much more heavily than the other two, got her hind legs into very deep ground near some rocks, and was with difficulty extricated. At some distance beyond, in descending a slope, the Puru Rawnee went right into a quicksand. We had to unload her, and the ground being full of loose stones, we were afraid she would cut her legs all to pieces. Noah was almost despairing. It was his first experience of mountain work.
“What can we do, sir?” said he, in a melancholy tone, “in such rough roads as these?”
Ole Rödsheim came back to us, and we carried most of the things some distance down to firmer ground. Again loading, we started once more. Zachariah was as lively as ever, with his donkey the Puro Rye, making short cuts, and going now and then in advance, until warned to be careful. We kept our course, until at last, crossing a streamlet, in spite of every precaution, the Puru Rawnee sank right into another quicksand, out of which we had much difficulty in extricating her. The things had to be taken off. We proposed camping out where we were; for the donkeys, especially the Puru Rawnee, were getting tired.
Ole Rödsheim suggested that there was better camping ground on the other side a mountain ravine, a short distance beyond. We decided to make a push for it, and soon after succeeded in reaching a wide rocky ravine. The stream was broken into many rivulets. The torrent’s bed was strewn with loose rocks; so that with our tired loaded animals, we crossed with difficulty, and windinground the foot of a lofty knowle above the ravine, we entered a shallow gully at the back of it. Ascending a gentle slope to the flat summit of the knowle, we found an excellent camping ground.
The conical hill was just adapted for our tents. To our right the waters of many streams issued from the large snow-field we could see at a short distance up the ravine. In front, at the foot of a long slope, and crossing the end of the ravine, we could see the deep valley of the Gröna, and above us the Skarvehöerne.
Our tents were soon pitched. Ole Rödsheim said he should camp out if we could lend him a blanket. Our fire was lighted, and we shared with him our tea, eggs, fladbröd, and butter. Esmeralda lay on the ground near the camp-fire, and could not take anything. She was taken very unwell. She wished to be left in peace, and to Noah, who asked her again, she said “No!” so sharply that he quickly left her.
Ole Rödsheim went to make his bed under a rock on the side of the gully below us. His little wallet, and small brass camp-kettle in it, were left by our smouldering fire. Almost immediately after down came torrents of rain. We had just time to seize our waterproof rug which we slept on, and our guide’s wallet. Our first thought was for him. He had just formed a sort of nest like a coffin with loose stones, the lower part covered over by flat stones stuffed with loose heath and stunted birch. In an instant he was stretched in his form. Throwing the waterproof over him, we gave him his wallet underneath, and left him for the night. There was one satisfaction, our guide would be perfectly dry if not particularly warm in his mountain quarters.
Returning to the tents in pouring rain, we unfolded our waterproof, and placed it over the tents, for the moisture was already making its way through our blanket covering. Esmeralda had crawled in, and was lying in a very helpless state. We had to move her, whilst we made her bed, and packed her up comfortable for the night. She might be bilious from the middags-mad of potatoes and bacon; but she said afterwards it was owing to a sudden chill when she ate some snow, or from her wet feet. Giving her some brandy the last thing, for she did not know how she felt, we hoped our universal panacea would effect a cure.
Just before going to bed, the rain ceased; and going to Ole, a voice under the waterproof said he was very comfortable. As we were going into our tents, we could not help gazing on the magnificent sea of white mist rising from the deep valley of the Gröna below.82
Soon after five o’clock we were up, and descending in a thick mist to the ravine, we had a good wash. The donkeys were inspected, and their legs carefully rubbed down with our bruise mixture, which was an universal remedy for all cuts, bruises, aches, and pains. Ole was apparently sleeping soundly, and we did not disturb him. Our gipsies got up, and at six o’clock Ole was moving and none the worse for his rough accommodation. He had, I believe, been up before to see if the donkeys were safe. Everything was wet, and no fuel could be found but one or two damp sticks from the ravine, and the roots of heath and dwarf birch. A fire seemed hopeless, but our Russian lamp overcame all difficulty,and we soon had a fire. Tea and fladbröd and butter formed our breakfast.
Whilst we were leading our donkeys, a pale, large-boned peasant appeared. No one knew from whence, but he was able to quaff some of our brandy. Esmeralda was again tolerably well. As Ole proceeded in advance, and we were ascending the right slope of the ravine, he shouted—“Ah, Mr. Smith! you have no hotel bills to settle, sir.” Ole seemed to have taken a deep interest in our mode of life.
Our ascent up rocky slopes was laborious and heavy. The Digervarden Fjeld on our left, and the Grönhöerne on our right. In the distance was the Skarvdalseggen and the Digerkampen. With even pace we followed our rough stony track, often near slopes of snow. All nature was as desolate and sterile as could well be imagined. Although lightened of its load, our Puru Rawnee had still a heavy weight. It was necessary to be very careful as to boggy ground. At one place, notwithstanding all care, she was effectually bogged in a deep quagmire, and with difficulty pulled out. Crossing a sterile ridge of loose gray rocks, Ole suggested we should try some large snow slopes as easier, which we did. Sometimes where the snow was not deep we managed very well, and passed over slopes of smooth frozen snow glittering in the sun.
Occasionally, as we again came to the rocks, the snow was deep, and we found ourselves for a few feet plunging with our donkeys above our knees in snow, and the loaded animals could scarcely get through. Again we were picking our way over loose rocks, with occasional reaches of frozen snow to cross. Our journey was toilsome. The upper portions of our route were sterile anddreary, without that abrupt boldness of outline which gives an interest to the scene. As we commenced our descent to the valley of the Lora Elv, to reach the Ny Sœter, we had to descend a very rough mountain track, difficult for our already tired donkeys. Still we were anxious to reach the Ny Sœter before we called a halt. At last, at an awkward place, the Puru Rawnee fell, and, in trying to recover itself, again fell, with its head doubled under its body. The whole weight of the packs slipped forward upon it. As it rolled over and lay motionless, we thought our beautiful Puru Rawnee had broken its neck. Quickly getting the baggage away, we let it lie quiet. After some short time, it seemed to recover, and got up. Ole Rödsheim shouldered our fishing rods and some heavy packs. Each took something to lighten materially our gray donkey, and, walking quickly down past an old reindeer grav,83we soon reached several small log-houses, near a brawling snow stream, called the Lora Elv. We had arrived at the Ny Sœter.84
Near the Ny Sœter there was a fenced paddock, and close to the Sœter a sheltered flat of turf, where we unloaded and pitched our tents. Our day’s journey had taken us from half-past nine o’clock till four o’clock. The Lordalen, as it is called, is now almost bare of trees, cold, and uninteresting in appearance even in the height of the summer season. The rage for cutting down the forests in Norway will render the country in some parts almost uninhabitable. In Wales the climate would be warmer, and the mountains more picturesque, and the country far more beautiful, if still clothed with its ancientforests; but Norway can never be used for sheep pasture, as the hills of Wales, on account of the climate; and the forests for shelter are still more necessary in the northern clime.
Middagsmad consisted of tea, ham, potatoes, and pickled walnuts. Ourself, Noah, and Zachariah went fishing; but, not meeting with any sport, we soon returned with Noah. The peasants at the Sœter were very kind, civil people. They were all women and children, one being a boy. One very nice little girl hummed very prettily several Norwegian airs for us. The wind blew cold in the evening. Zachariah came back to tea, with two trout. For our aftensmad we had Zachariah’s two trout, with fladbröd and butter from the Sœter. Esmeralda was very bilious; could not finish her tea; said she could not touch tea again; was unwell. The tea, she said, was not good, or the fladbröd. Her brother Noah said she ate too fast, and so made herself unwell; for, said Noah, the tea is excellent. Our gipsies would now and then wrangle and chaff, till a stranger would suppose they were going to fight, as on this evening.
“Now, then, Lucas, don’t tell lies. Dawdy. There’s a state he puts himself in, the ballo shero!”
“Dik the Bongy Mouee!” exclaimed another. “Sheep’s eyes! ah, you talk backwards, like Amy, you do!”
Then Esmeralda would say satirically, “Well indeed, so manly! Doesn’t he put himself over every one, Ambrose does.”
“What is daughter saying?” answers Noah. “Blankesko! look at Ezekiel.”
“Don’t say so,” shouted Zachariah.
“Ask Mr. Smith whether it is a lie. Oh, yes; Ambrose can do anything, he can.”
It was, however, satisfactory to know that in a few minutes they did not trouble themselves about their hastily expressed opinions of one another.
Our gipsies were shortly afterwards singing, “Gamle Norge,” humming a tune, or arranging our things with a merry laugh. Poor Mr. Rödsheim was sorely puzzled at the variety of names they seemed to possess; but at last Noah settled down into Mr. Ambrose, Esmeralda into Miss Daughter, and Zachariah into Master Zâkēē.
In the evening, as the Sœter girl collected her cows, there was something charming in her peculiar call. The high modulated pitch of the voice—tones at once plaintive and persuasive, seemed to lure the animals to her from the far distance. It was nine o’clock when we sang our gipsy song for them, and then ourself, Noah, and Zachariah sat by the fire playing the guitar, violin, and tambourine, as the young girls danced on the level green till ten o’clock.
Ole Rödsheim slept in state that night—the Englishman’s house was placed at his disposal. This log-house appeared to have been built for sportsmen, and had been occupied by English gentlemen, in 1869, for reindeer shooting; but on these fjelds, we were told, the reindeer were now scarce, and the rype not plentiful.85
Ole was stirring in good time. Eggs for breakfast, with tea, fladbröd, and butter, from the Sœter, for which we paid two marks, twelve skillings. Ole Rödsheim, who at first was scarcely inclined to touch tea, as he usually drank coffee, now seemed getting quite fond of it. One English gentleman to whom he had been guide, seems to have been equally fond of brandy. It was during forest travel in Australia that we first acquired the habit of taking tea with each meal. It is the custom in the Bush; and, as regards ourselves, we have found it sufficient stimulus for every kind of exposure and hard mountain work.
At breakfast, the women of the Sœter brought us a present of some milk, and Esmeralda a cake of best fladbröd, with clotted cream upon it—very different hospitality from our host at Veblungsnœs. It was excellent; but we think added slightly to the biliousness of Esmeralda. Then they brought us more cake and clotted cream; but we were obliged to beg off and get Ole Rödsheim to explain that we had really had quite sufficient.
The woman took us to see the Englishman’s house. It was very clean; but bare of furniture. The Englishmen, who were evidently of lively temperament, appear to have stayed there some time. As a change from hard life in the fjelds, a Norwegian musician would occasionally come, and the Sœter girls from the district assemble fora dance on the level green. Their names were recorded inside the door of the Englishman’s wooden house as follows:—
Oline FlikleAnne BrenyordEli LoflinsmoeMarit NorstigaardMarit ThorholsMarit BrenyördYoraana NorstigaardMari ThorolsMari RudiMarit StavemAnne SkarpolBritt Skarpol.
Giving the woman’s son a present of some fishing flies, which he wanted, and the woman a large tin water-can which we managed to spare, our party left about ten o’clock. The first difficulty was a bridge, but after much trouble we got the donkeys over, and ascended the mountain slope of the valley through the few scattered birch trees which were left.
The track was not beset with much difficulty, and, ascending the high lands of the Fillingshö Fjeld, we had the Skardstind and Kjölen Fjeldene on our left, and the Jehanshö Fjeld on our right. We were now in the Gudbransdalen. Traversing wild open moorlands, with scarcely any vegetation, we halted about two o’clock by a small streamlet, on the open mountain. A few sticks we had collected on our way enabled us to make our fire. Tea and fladbröd and butter formed our meal. The fladbröd was not of the best description. Zachariah called it bearskin, but after all it was palatable to a mountaineer, and we bid him be satisfied he did not fare worse; it was nearly all consumed at this meal, to Zachariah’s intense satisfaction.
We were soon ready for a start. The animals had rested; the Puru Rawnee did not seem much the worse for its fall the day before. It is not well to keep themen routemore than four hours without a rest. The PuruRawnee’s back was slightly sore, and we adopted the plan of folding the tent cover into two rolls, and placing one on each side its back, so as to relieve all pressure. This plan answered exceedingly well.
Leaving about four o’clock, we passed near the Aur Vand, or, as it is marked in one map, the Horgven Lake. It is a large lake, and Ole said it was celebrated for its fish. As we continued our way down a very steep mountain track, descending towards Skeaker, the Lomseggen came in view, and snowy hills on our right. On one side we had the Bipsberg, and the other the Loms Horungen.
Zachariah, who had ridden with the packs on his donkey along the undulating plateaux, had now to dismount. Each had to go to the donkey’s head; the track was precipitous on the side of a deep ravine.
The very look of each of them denotes strong talent; while in whatever they have undertaken to perform, they seem to have surpassed others, whilst they are at once unabashed and polite. It is true that they have not been tried in many things; but they are, it seems, the best fortune-tellers, the best singers, the best boxers, and, perhaps, the best doctors in the world.... They speak, too, the several languages of each country with much greater propriety than the lower ranks of natives themselves do.The Gipsies.BySamuel Roberts.
The very look of each of them denotes strong talent; while in whatever they have undertaken to perform, they seem to have surpassed others, whilst they are at once unabashed and polite. It is true that they have not been tried in many things; but they are, it seems, the best fortune-tellers, the best singers, the best boxers, and, perhaps, the best doctors in the world.... They speak, too, the several languages of each country with much greater propriety than the lower ranks of natives themselves do.
The Gipsies.BySamuel Roberts.
THE PEASANT’S WOOD—SKEAKER—OUR FAIR VISITOR—ESMERALDA’S INDIGNATION—THE GIPSY HORNPIPE—THE FATE OF EZEKIEL— FEEBLE ADVOCACY—THE RANKNY86RACKLY—THE OTTA VAND.
Noah broke his alpenstock. Descending still lower, we saw a waterfall formed by the stream from the lake. In a large extent of wood, on the other side, numbers of firs, which had once formed a picturesque shelter, had been cut down, and were lying on the ground. The owner, a well-to-do farmer, had yielded to the solicitations of a timber-merchant, and had cut down much of his wood. The timber-merchant, after buying and taking some of the best, found it was not worth his while to remove the remainder of the trees, owing to the roughness of the stream down which he intended to float them.The timber was therefore lying as we saw it, probably to be used as firewood.
By a short cut we descended down a very steep bank, with our animals and baggage, to the level road to Skeaker. The road was an extremely narrow lane, with a wooden fence on both sides; fields of grain were improved in luxuriance by irrigation. At one place we saw a peasant throwing water over his grain with a wooden shovel. The peasants seemed well-to-do. The farms on each side the road were numerous, but small in size.
Then we had the usual rush to see the donkeys, and an occasional meeting in the narrow lane with ponies, who obstinately refused to fraternise with our cavalcade.
At last, after passing a large well-built wooden house, with a stuffed owl on the summer-house of its garden, we crossed a bridge over the Otta Elv.
Our camp was selected on a large open common, under the shelter of a wooden fence, not very far from the road. Ole went to a farm-house for provisions, and to say we had camped there. The tents were soon pitched, a fire lighted, and we had tea and eggs in our tents. The gipsies were very lively; the day’s exertions had quite cured Esmeralda.
Numbers of peasants came in groups toward the camp. One man, dressed in black with a slouched hat, was the most solemn-looking individual we ever saw. The gipsies called him Uncle Elijah; another was styled Ezekiel. Ole said there were some peasants who did not like music or dancing.
The numbers increased, and they thronged round with eager curiosity. We were thankful that Ole was nowshowman; no doubt, with much ingenuity, Ole made many difficult explanations. Our guide was quite equal to the task.
The donkeys were ever surrounded by anxious visitors. One very pretty girl came up, as we were standing at the tent entrance; speaking English with a strong American accent, she said, “And where do you live?”
Our answer that we occasionally resided in London, seemed a sufficient address, for she continued, “Are you married?”
“Oh, no,” said we, with a tone of much melancholy.
Then she told us she had been in America and England; that she liked England better than Norway. She said she wanted to get married, and stayed in Norway to be with her mother. Her brother had sold the large house and farm, on the other side the river, to the government for 6,300 dollars. For some time we conversed together.
After the pretty Norwegian had left, we went to sit in our tent. As we entered, Esmeralda drew herself up with much dignity. A storm was coming—indications of the hurricane appeared on the surface of her dark flashing eyes.
“The Rye had better have his Norwegian Rackly at once! She’ll keep your tents for you! Didn’t you hear how they rocker’d together, Noah?”
“Well,” said Noah, in secret enjoyment of his sister’s indignation, “the Rye did say something about marriage, when she axed him.”
“Won’t she see after the Rye’s things?” exclaimed Esmeralda, more and more indignant.
“Dawdy! dawdy!” said Zachariah, in his blandestaccents, as he sat on the ground and quietly rubbed his hands, swaying to and fro, whilst his dark eyes sparkled with malicious fire. “Dawdy! dawdy! but the Rye can tice it on with the girls, can’t you, sir?”
“Tice it on,” answered Esmeralda; “I’m not to be deceived. Noah, let’s be a gellin.”
There was an expressive tinge of indignant melancholy as Esmeralda said this. Our position was like the mariner in a heavy sea. After all, we really had no desire to change our hobbenengree, Esmeralda, who had travelled with us so many miles, and shared with us so many fatigues. Why should we change? Why should not Noah ask the pretty Norwegian girl in marriage? Indeed, we at once undertook to carry out the delicate mission. The question should be asked when she came. Noah was not unwilling.
Notwithstanding Esmeralda said, “Dawdy! There’s a scheme of the Rye’s,” she was evidently more at ease, and in a few minutes we were playing some of our gipsy and other tunes, nor did we forget the “gipsy hornpipe,” the favourite air of our gipsies’ ancient grandmother, who had recently died at some incredible age, after giving to the world seventeen children.
The number of our visitors increased. Seated in our tents, we played a variety of airs. Some few danced on the greensward near; many tried to get a view of us by looking over the baulk between our tents. Ole was the centre of many a circle, as the peasants grouped round him, asking him all sorts of questions.
At length the push and pressure was so great our tents were in danger of being levelled with the ground. In vain Esmeralda became impatient and remonstrated, still thepeasants, anxious to see us, crowded against the tents and baulk.
Well we remember the tall active form of the gipsy girl, rising suddenly from the ground. Never shall we forget the amazon of our tents, the wild spirit of our many wanderings, seizing Noah’s broken alpenstock. We were reminded ofCharge, Chester, charge! On, Stanley, on!Were the last words of Marmion!as she went forth. There was a sudden withdrawal of pressure from our tents; there was a tramp of feet, a hurried stampede of short duration. Whether Uncle Elijah was knocked down, or what became of Ezekiel we never knew. We did not go out to pick up the wounded. Probably their bodies, like that of King James II., at the battle of Flodden, were never discovered. They did not appear the next morning. We mourned them as amongst the slain. Flushed and heated from the fray, Esmeralda soon returned. Our music continued till closing eve warned us it was time for rest. The peasants wished us good-night, and departed.
Yet once more before they all departed we held converse with the very pretty girl of Skeaker. Esmeralda had the satisfaction of hearing us propose for Noah. Our visitor did not appear altogether adverse, but we fear our advocacy was feeble, for nothing ultimately came of it, and we retired to rest.
We mused lightly upon the novelty and charm of our wild wandering life as we rose at six o’clock. Ole Rödsheim procured us eggs for breakfast. Fire was lighted; Zachariah tried the river for fish. In vain we sought a spot sufficiently private for matutinal ablutions; the riverbanks were almost level with the water’s edge; our camp was almost on an island. We afterwards retired beneath the arch of the second bridge, where we had all the seclusion of a private boudoir.
As we appeared on the bridge, refreshed and braced up for the day’s exertion, to our surprise we again met the pretty girl of Skeaker. She had a young companion with her. Her American accent seemed now to give us pleasure, and then she spoke English very well. As we exchanged greetings chance caused us to look towards the river; the tall slim form of our hobbenengree (gip. housekeeper) was standing by the water’s edge, looking towards us. Her dark flashing eyes followed every movement.
As we slowly returned to the tents we expected another storm, but Esmeralda waited till she was gone. “I saw it all,” said Esmeralda, somewhat reproachfully. “How artfully the Rackly waited till you were on the bridge; but never mind, you can take her.”
It was difficult to convince her that Noah’s suit required several interviews and much pressing solicitation.
Our camp ground was delightful; several visitors came to our camp. Noah was leading the donkeys for our departure. Then we soon perceived our pretty Norwegian friend who spoke English; she had one or two young ladies with her.
Whilst Ole Rödsheim gave Noah some assistance, I proposed to give our visitors a few parting tunes; in fact, they were anxious to hear us play once more.
Esmeralda looked in no lively mood towards hersupposed rival. She would not play for the gorgios. Taking our guitar, we sat down, and, accompanied by Zachariah on his violin, we gave them some farewell music.
All is ready. The morning is beautiful. About ten o’clock the word was given to start. Ole formed our advance guard, and led the way, staff in hand, some distance a-head. By some shuffle in the cards of fate, Esmeralda was in the rear guard as we bowed farewell to our friendly visitors, and especially to the long-to-be-remembered pretty girl of Skeaker.
Our party quietly followed the narrow road along the right shore of the beautiful “Otta Vand.” The road was very narrow, and fenced in. Comfortable homesteads of the peasant farmers were delightfully placed between the road and the lake. We remarked their substantial, and well-to-do appearance. This seemed one of the most fertile districts we had yet traversed.
Crossing the “Sand Aa” (Nor. sandy rivulet) we gradually approached Lom, which is about six or seven English miles from Skeaker. Some of the farm houses built on promontories, stretching from the shores of the lake, have names terminating in “næs” (Nor. point), as for instance, Studnæs (rough point), and many others. At a farm called Sundtnæs, we bought twenty-five eggs for one mark five skillings. Our expenses at Skeaker, including butter, eighteen eggs, and fladbröd, amounted to three marks.
On our way from Skeaker, Esmeralda soon recovered her wonted spirits, and said quietly, she hoped we would not think anything of what she had said; she did not mean it; was it likely we should have anyoneelse to look after our things. It is wonderful how soon the heart inclines itself to forgive; yet in after days now, and by chance, a quiet allusion to the pretty girl of Skeaker produced its effect on our suspicious hobbenengree.
Your pulses are quickened to gipsy pitch; you are ready to make love and war, to heal and slay, to wander to the world’s end, to be outlawed and hunted down, to dare and do any thing for the sake of the sweet, untramelled life of the tent, the bright blue sky, the mountain air, the free savagedom, the joyous dance, the passionate friendship, the fiery love.Matilda Betham Edwards’sThrough Spain.
Your pulses are quickened to gipsy pitch; you are ready to make love and war, to heal and slay, to wander to the world’s end, to be outlawed and hunted down, to dare and do any thing for the sake of the sweet, untramelled life of the tent, the bright blue sky, the mountain air, the free savagedom, the joyous dance, the passionate friendship, the fiery love.
Matilda Betham Edwards’sThrough Spain.
THE WASPS’ NEST—LOM—KIND FRIENDS—SONGS OF BJÖRNSEN—THE PRŒSTEN’S MINISTRATION—THE REPULSED STUDENT—BEAUTIFUL VALLEY—THE TWO ARTISTS—THE BŒVER ELVEN—RÖDSHEIM—THE RAVINE—THE LOST STARDY—ASCENT OF GALDHÖPIGGEN—THE HIGHEST MOUNTAIN IN NORWAY—THE NIGHT ASCENT—THE DOME OF SNOW—THE SUNRISE.
Zachariah, the Mephistopheles of our party, desiring probably to afford more varied incident for our “impressions de voyage” declared war upon a wasps’ nest.
Although warned, but too late, he took a hasty shot with a stone at the nest, artistically constructed, on a bough, hanging on the road side.
What business had we to quarrel with these paper makers, who knew their art long before man had emerged from his pre-historic condition? why needlessly destroy their curious homestead? but the stone had gone upon its mission.
Zachariah soon became acquainted with the “lex talionis” of the invaded colony; strange to say, the waspsdirected their attack only on himself. He was singled out as the aggressor, and a sharp sudden sting, under one eye, entirely ruined his personal appearance for the morning.
We arrived at Lom about mid-day. Ole went in advance to see the Prœsten Halling. As we approached a large open expanse of meadow land, open to the junction of roads, from Skeaker, Vaage and Rödsheim we saw the church, which picturesquely stands near the lake.87Near it, the charming manse of the Prœsten Halling. A large wooden structure near the road, we were told, had been used formerly as a granary to store the grain, paid as tithe, to the clergyman of the parish. This payment is now, we believe, made in money. As we looked upon the church and parsonage, surrounded as they were, by the meadow park, with the broad silver lake near, the rising mountains on all sides, and the clear blue sky above, our senses seemed entranced with the passing beauty of the scene; it was one of those chance glimpses of perfect nature, which cast their anchor deep in memory, and leave a lasting impression of bygone days.
That the Prœsten was in harmony with so much that was pleasing, we did not doubt, and when he came to meet us accompanied by our guide, he warmly welcomed our gipsy party; he would have us enter beneath his roof, and accept his kindly hospitality; we did not value the proffered hospitality the less, though we did not accept it. Ours was a life of travel in the fresh air ofheaven; air that myriads are dying for every day. It is as essential to man as water is to fish. The delightful shade of some trees near the road, a short distance from the parsonage, tempted us; there we halted, and there, reluctantly, the Prœsten allowed us to remain. After strolling with him for a short time along the pleasant walks of his grounds, he left us to take our mid-day meal; we enjoyed it in our own gipsy fashion; our meal consisted of fried bacon, fladbröd and tea. Ole obtained our letters and newspapers from the Loms Postaabneri. We had telegraphed our correspondence from Kongsberg; the packet was large, and cost us three dollars and forty-four skillings. Our newspapers which had been sent to Bergen, we left to their fate; the “Illustrated London News” seemed to please the Prœsten Halling, and his family. When our mid-day meal was concluded, Prœsten Halling, Mrs. Halling, three young ladies, her sisters, a brother, and two gentlemen staying with Mr. Halling, came to see us; They were much interested with our gipsies; Zachariah’s swollen face had unfortunately marred his beauty, Noah had unfortunately taken some offence at his sister Esmeralda. Noah’s temper was to blame; occasionally an interchange of Romany and English terms flashed between them.
We had wished our gipsies to appear to the best advantage. One with a swollen eye and two at cross purposes had a jarring effect on our nervous system, nevertheless, our visitors seemed interested with them. We trust they made allowance for the wildness of their nature. We can assure them, Zachariah had not always a swollen eye, and Noah was rarely out of temper; even our hobbenengree had her moments of suddensunshine, delightful after previous storms, and the fitful passions of her gipsy soul. All was harmony after we had commenced our music—guitar, violin, and tambourine. We sang for our visitors the gipsy song, and gave the Prœsten Halling a copy of it, as a parting souvenir; the ladies, and some of the gentlemen, sang several Norwegian melodies for us. They had good voices; “over the high fjeld” was a beautiful song, and seemed appropriate to our parting. Some charming Norwegian songs are written by Björnsen. Very pleasantly passed our mid-day halt, with the Prœsten Halling and his family. Wide spread, we afterwards found, was the fame of the Prœsten Halling88for his kindly heart, his true christian feeling, and invariable hospitality to travellers. Speaking English perfectly, we were told he had officially, much and active ministration, among the English navvies employed, during the construction of the Railway from Christiania.
Our donkeys were again loaded. The Puru Rawnee had a chafed back, but by careful folding of our tent-cover, we prevented pressure upon it; sore backs are always difficult to prevent in crossing a mountainous country. We had reached Lom about twelve o’clock, and left about four. Our gipsies were ready; we bade all farewell, perhaps never to meet again, but not the less to be held in our pleasing remembrance.
The evening was very warm; indeed, as we slowly followed the road up the “Bœverdal Elv,” we found it exceedingly hot. It is about nine miles distance from Lom to Rödsheim; comfortable homesteads met ourview as we passed along. The usual excitement to see our donkeys was here and there met with. It is said there are four hundred farms in the parish of Lom, and every tenth man had lately emigrated, but no inconvenience had been felt by the diminution of population.
Not far along the road, we met a young Norwegian studenten routetowards Lom. Ole conversed with him. He was dressed in light tourist costume, and high lace-up boots, and had attempted alone the ascent of the Galdhöpiggen. The student had failed, and was returning with all the weight of disappointed ambition upon his mind. Ole had predicted the failure. Well we remembered our similar fate in former years, when we ourselves, and several fellow-tourists, headed by the celebrated mountaineer, poor Hudson, returned from an attempted ascent of Mont Blanc. Tired, wayworn, torn, and jaded, and, worse, disappointed, we reached the picturesque Hotel Mont Joli at Saint Gervais only to try again with better success.
Ole, anxious to reach Rödsheim as soon as possible, went on in advance. We saw him again, when he had reached his father’s farm near the road side. Ole and his father were just going to start for Rödsheim in a stolkjœrre. His services were unnecessary as guide to Rödsheim. It was useless for Ole to remain with us. They wished us much to go with them in the stolkjœrre, and leave our gipsies and donkeys to follow after.
Ole’s father was a fine, hale, strong old man, and his wife a comely stout woman. We preferred to remain with our gipsies and baggage, feeling a sort of independence of all kinds of lifts. Possessing good health and spirits, we felt no fatigue from our daily exertion.Exposure to the fresh air seemed to give us an enduring strength quite beyond the requirement of stimulant or the necessity for artificial locomotion.
It was now determined to push on after Ole Rödsheim as rapidly as we could. Zachariah was mounted on the top of the baggage on the Pure Rye. Noah took the lead on foot in care of the Puru Rawnee and Puro Rye. Esmeralda, who, was tired, we mounted on the baggage of her Merle, the Tarno Rye, and brought up the rear. The road was tolerably level and we proceeded along at a sharp pace. Every turn of the valley brought us in view of fresh scenes to admire.
Passing a wicket on the road side, we caught sight of two young artists in the garden of a small cottage. Their canvas was upon an easel. One was then painting a scene from nature. They were apparently taking a bend of the valley down which the glacier-coloured waters of Bœver Elv89dashed its wild course. The maisonette was so homely, the point of View so picturesque, we could not help pausing. Quickly calling a halt we exchanged salutations with them. They were both very good looking young fellows. The one, we were informed afterwards, was considered the handsomest man in Norway. He was certainly exceedingly handsome, though a trifle too effeminate for a man; yet there was much to admire in the form and expression of the countenance. They accepted an offer of some aquavit to drink “gamle norge.” Our flask was brought into requisition. Somehow the brandy seemed rather muddy, both in flask and bottle newly opened. Noah accounted for it by saying that when the old man at Veblungsnœs sold it to him, thebrandy was nearly out of the cask, which had to be lifted up, before he could fill the bottles. A passing suspicion crossed our mind that it may have been caused by the addition of water, but still we did not like to suspect any one of our party. Be that as it may, the artists both quaffed off a small tumbler each without even winking their eyes. With a hasty farewell, we continued our road, pushing on at a rapid pace.
As evening fell, and we gradually lost the heat of the sun, there was a refreshing coolness in Bœverdalen. On our right the lofty heights of the Lomseggen Fjeld, extending from Lom, rose above us; on our left the Bœver Elv was ever near the road,—at times wide, broad, and broken into many rough and shallow rapids. Our party was not out of place in such picturesque scenes. The two leading merles, loaded with various baggage, tent raniers, and camp appliances, including Zachariah, the Mephistopheles of our party, mounted on one, were followed by the tall, lank, muscular form of Noah. He combined the appearance of the smuggler, brigand, the chamois hunter, and gipsy. Noah was the beau ideal of the “genus homo,” as we see them depicted according to the conventional rules of art. At a short distance behind, as a sort of rear guard, Esmeralda was mounted on the miscellaneous baggage of the Tarno Rye, with ourselves near. How lively and happy the hobbenengree seemed! Bronzed by exposure to the hot Norwegian suns, hardened by rough spare diet and continued travel through all weathers, ours was indeed a life of health, freedom, and pleasure.
About eight o’clock we came in sight of Rödsheim. It is a substantial wooden house, with capacious out-buildings,near an excellent mountain road. The house stands at the foot of a rocky hill at the head of an ascent where the valley becomes narrow. On the other side the road, close to the house, the Bœver Elv dashes through a deep cleft of narrow gorge in the rocks. There is no fishing in the glacier water of the river. The house at Rödsheim was very clean and well ventilated. Ole well knew the English penchant, especially of the mountain tourist. The comfortable guest chamber of his house had always its open window, with pleasant View down the valley.
Ole Rödsheim90was ready to receive us. He pointed out a convenient camping ground a short distance beyond the house, just below the road, close upon the edge of the precipice of the ravine. It suited us exactly. Ole knew it. He had not been camping with us some days without knowing the foibles of our heart.
“There’s the spot for the Herre.”
Ole was quite right; and the roaring waters of Bœverdal Elv in the stillness of that night hushed our party to sleep. Our tents were quickly pitched by our gipsies. The pige from the house brought us firewood. We had eggs, bread and butter, and tea, for our evening’s meal. Ole Rödsheim brought out a bottle of his home-brewed beer. We had one glass each, for we shared everything with our party. It was excellent beer. Thenwe went to the house, and made acquaintance with Mrs. Rödsheim, a quiet, pale, industrious helpmate. She appeared an excellent housewife. After a chat with Ole, we returned to our camp. Our music enlivened the quiet valley before we retired to rest.
Mephistopheles was in sad tribulation. May it be recorded, that the evening before, the hat from Christy’s of London, purchased in Norway, which had cost us one dollar, was blown into the ravine, and had disappeared. It was an occurrence which could not long be concealed. The hat must be produced some time, or accounted for. We certainly were annoyed when he confessed the fact. Something was said about the owner going to Christiania without one. Ultimately the Rye relented. Ole Rödsheim lent Zachariah a cloth military-looking cap, which was afterwards purchased second-hand for less than half the price of the hat lost.
Sunday morning at Rödsheim. We were up in good time. How we enjoyed our breakfast in the rocks at the edge of the deep ravine. The day was very hot. It was the last day of July. Most of the peasants would be actively engaged next month in their harvests. Ole came occasionally to see that we had everything we wished. Once Ole said, in a melancholy tone, he wished to speak with me aside. We went with him away from the tents, and he placed in our hands a blacked-edged letter, saying it might contain bad news, and we might wish to be alone when we received it. Fortunately, the emblem of mourning referred to past events already known. Yet we did not think the less of Ole’s kind thought. Some peasants came to see our camp and the donkeys. All was quietude and peace at Rödsheim.
One of the points to be attained in our line of travel, was the ascent of the highest mountain in Norway, the Galdhöpiggen, or pike of Galdhö. Who Galdhö was we could not ascertain.91Although we were unsuccessful in obtaining the origin of the name, we determined, if possible, to make the ascent of this mountain.
It was arranged that we should start at nine o’clock at night, Ole, ourself, and Noah, for the expedition. Esmeralda and Zachariah to be left in care of the tents.
At mid-day we had ham, eggs, and potatoes for dinner, close to our camp. On the edge of the ravine stood a small log-hut used as a blacksmith’s shop. Since our kettle prop had been lost, we had substituted two Alpine stocks with a wire between them for boiling our water for tea. It was a clumsy substitute, which necessity imposed upon us. Ole now arranged that a blacksmith should make us another prop before we left Rödsheim.
At nine o’clock Ole was ready, and ourself and Noah were each armed with an Alpine stock. Each took a small supply of bread and goat’s cheese. Making our adieu to Esmeralda and Zachariah, we were soonen routeup the valley.
We had not proceeded far when a farm servant from Rödsheim overtook us, and said that two English gentlemen required Ole’s presence as guide. They were certainly unfortunate; the expedition had commenced, and Ole sent back a message of excuse.
Ole soon afterwards left the main road. Entering a thick wood to our left in Indian file, we ascended a steep winding foot path, until an open plateau was reached. Very shortly afterwards we reached the “RödbergSœter.” Ole knocked at the door, and obtained a rope from the woman. It was exactly half-past ten o’clock. Walking over some undulating turf ground we soon afterwards commenced another steep ascent. The slope was covered with loose stones, scattered on all sides. It was quite dusk, and deliciously cool after the heat of the day. At half-past eleven Ole called a halt, and we had a slight repast of bread and cheese and cold tea.
Again we wereen route, still walking in Indian file, and soon reached another long narrow plateau. Over loose rocks, in the dim light, we picked our way as we could for some distance. The Dögurdsmaals Kampen, a steep sharp mountain, rose above us. We at length skirted the glacier lake of the Gjuvbrœen. In this lake we were told by Ole, the Herre Watson, the tourist of tourists, once bathed. Ole evidently considered our countryman one of the best mountaineers he had seen. It must have been a cold plunge; but what is there that an Englishman will not undertake? If we had passed it at mid-day the example may have been followed.
The long reach of stones, whose angular points made it necessary to keep a sharp look-out at every step, were at last exchanged for a gentle slope of tolerably hard level snow. It was a great relief, after the rough pathway of stones just left. A false step on such an irregular causeway involves a broken leg, a grazed shin, or at least a sprained ankle.
At last we reached the edge of a broad but at this point tolerably level glacier, across which we could in the dimness of the night see the dome of the Galdhöpiggen rising beyond. Its summit, a dome of hard frozen snow, rests against a precipice of rocks, above which it rises some feet. From the small nearly flat space, which formsthe head of the Galdhöpiggen, the frozen snow immediately slopes off at an angle of from 40 to 50 degrees, and joins the glaciers in the far distance below. It was a wild and desolate scene, as we sat on some broken rocks. Another precipice rose to our right, as if to test supremacy with the Galdhöpiggen in this region of eternal snow. After some slight refreshment we roped ourselves together. No great difficulty presented itself as we crossed the glacier to the rocks which formed an arrête to the snow dome of the Galdhöpiggen. Once or twice Noah sank up to his middle, but the crevasses were narrow and easily crossed. Very easy work to one who had crossed the Glacier des Bossons.
Then commenced the ascent of the steep arrête of rocks, but even these presented no great difficulty to a fair average mountaineer. Then came a rise of frozen snow at the junction of the dome with the rocks. There was an awkward crevasse to cross. Ole carefully tested the snow, and it was soon overcome. We were now on the frozen slope of the snow dome. On this, as we had no nails in our thick fishing-boots, with the utmost difficulty we could keep our legs. With the aid of our Alpine stock the summit was at length reached at five minutes past four o’clock. This is the highest mountain in Norway, 8300 feet above sea level. When we were on the rocks of the arrête we saw a glorious sunrise over theLauvhöenFjeld. The morning light enabled us to see a vast wilderness of dark rocky peaks rising from a setting of eternal snow. No sign of human habitation, no signs of animal life—silence reigned around us. Reindeer’s bones were lying on the rocks near the dome.
It was the afternoon of the third day after the arrival of Cadurcis at the gipsy encampment, and nothing had yet occurred to make him repent his flight from the abbey, and the choice he had made. He had experienced nothing but kindness and hospitality, while the beautiful Beruna seemed quite content to pass her life in studying his amusement.Disraeli’sVenetia.
It was the afternoon of the third day after the arrival of Cadurcis at the gipsy encampment, and nothing had yet occurred to make him repent his flight from the abbey, and the choice he had made. He had experienced nothing but kindness and hospitality, while the beautiful Beruna seemed quite content to pass her life in studying his amusement.
Disraeli’sVenetia.
THE REINDEER’S FATE—DESOLATE SCENE—SEVERAL ASCENTS—THE FRIGHTENED PEASANTS—A COAT LOST—ESMERALDA’S VIEWS—ABSENT TREASURES—OLE RE-ENGAGED—A NEW KETTLE PROP—THE HANDSOME ARTIST—COMFORTABLE STATION—ADIEU RÖDSHEIM—OUR EXCELLENT GUIDE—CROSSING THE BRIDGE—ZACHARIAH’S ESCAPE.
On the hanging precipice of rocks, the highest in Norway, a reindeer had met its death. The large glaciers of Tverbrœen Svelnaasbrœ and Styggebrœen we could see below us. The glorious sunrise had lighted up the Lauvhöen, Hestbrœpiggene, Hesthö, Sandgrovhö, Tvœrfjeld, Lomseggen, and Grjotaa Fjeld with its large glaciers. Then we had the deep valley of Visdalen on one side and Leirdalen on the other. The lofty Fjelds of the Eisteinshovd, Kvitingskjölen, and Hjem Fjeldene in the distance. Across Visdalen and near to us the mountains of the Glitterhö, Glittertind,92Glitters Rundhö,and Troldsteens Rundhö. To the west are the mountains of the Vesle Fjeld, the Kjœrringhœtta and many others. What a wild boundless region of peaks to the south—far, far beyond our sight. An endless extent of riven rock, above the glaciers snow, of an ever frozen region. The Stygehö, Tverbottenhorne, Kirken. Uledals Tinderne, one of whose peaks was also afterwards ascended by Messrs. Browne and Saunders. The Leirhö, Memurutinden, Heilstuguhö, Tyknings, Snehö, Beshö, Sikkildals Hö, Heimdalshö, Simletind, Skarvdalstind, Knudshultinden, Mugna, Kalvaahögda Melkedals-tinderne, Skagastöltind, the Koldedals-tinderne, and the wild peaks of the Horungerne.
Noah lighted a fire on the rocks near the dome. We sang a gipsy song. Then a memorial of our visit was placed in a bottle, and added to those records of former ascents already there. At five o’clock a.m. we commenced our descent, Ole leading, ourself next, and Noah bringing up the rear. In the same order we had ascended. With difficulty we kept our legs on the frozen snow sloping from the dome. If we had rolled with Ole and Noah to the glaciers below, our wanderings would certainly have been at an end.
The rocks were soon reached, and, descending to the glaciers below, we reached Rödsheim before ten o’clock the same morning. This gives thirteen hours from Rödsheim and return. Mr. Watson, who is a member of the Alpine Club, accomplished the ascent in 1868 in nine hours and a quarter actual walking. The Prœsten H. Halling had made the ascent, and also one of the young ladies we had met at the Prœsten Hallings. What cannot ladies accomplish when they make up their minds?
The Galdhöpiggen, we were told, was first ascended in 1851 by a schoolmaster and a farmer, who took three days to succeed. In 1864 Ole Halvorsen, or, as he is very often called from his farm, Ole Rödsheim, ascended it from Rödsheim. Captain R. J. Campbell ascended it in 1866; since then to the present time there have been several ascents from Rödsheim. The Prœsten Honoratus Halling, of Lom, Messrs. H. Smith, Wright, and G. H. Wright, from Lom Rectory, H. S. Marriot, H. W. Cuthbert, J. Dymsdale, Mr. and Mrs. Watson, and lastly, Messrs. Boyson and Harrison, to whom Ole Halvorsen had acted as guide before we engaged his services. Some tourists have ascended, we believe, from Visdal since the first ascent was made.
Esmeralda and Zachariah welcomed us at our camp at Rödsheim. They had felt quite lost. Esmeralda did not approve of our staying out all night. They had not been able to sleep. In the middle of the night they said an attempt had been made to steal the donkeys. Two men were near them, and one was actually trying to mount one of them. Esmeralda and Zachariah went up to them, and both men ran away along the mountain road with Esmeralda and Zachariah in pursuit. We can imagine Mephistophiles, the descendant of some count of Lesser Egypt, with nothing on but his shirt, swiftly pursuing two heavy peasant descendants of some Norwegian chief of ancient time, flapping the road with their heavy shoes, panting and breathless to escape the unexpected apparitions from the rocks of the Bœver Elv in the dead of night. “Norwegians stealing, ce n’est pas possible!” said we. “Curious to examine the animals near the road, they had merely ventured toinspect them closely, and you nearly frightened them to death.”93
A dismal revelation had also to be made, for on returning from the Galdhöpiggen it was discovered that our siphonia overcoat, secured by straps, had been lost on the arrête near the mountain’s summit. Ole would then and there have returned for it, but this we would not allow; and a look-out was to be made during the next ascent.
Then our boots, which were not new when we commenced our wanderings, were declared by Esmeralda to be a complete wreck. Before our ascent of the Galdhöpiggen, they had been severely tested by nearly all the wear and tear of the distance to Rödsheim. Even Medwin’s won’t last for ever. Then it must be remembered we never had a single blister during the journey. C’est quelque chose, thought we, as Esmeralda looked out from the wardrobe pocket, another pair of Medwin’s fishing-boots nearly new. Shall we ever forget the look Esmeralda gave us when she held up the débris of those replaced? Can we forget the tone in which she somewhat reproachfully said, “Now, look at these chockas!”
Having made rapid but unsatisfactory résumé of the results of our ascent, Esmeralda treated the whole affair in a most contemptuous spirit. Instead of receiving much laudation, our mountain expedition was looked upon as a profitless expenditure of time, and energy, and a reckless desertion of our tents. In our mind we contrastedour reception with what it might have been elsewhere. No cannons fired as at Chamounix. No “bouquet of flowers” as we remember at St. Gervais. No “vin d’honneur,” no anything. We sat down to breakfast, and felt very much as if we had done something wrong without having done it.