LUSEHAUG BRO, UTLADAL.—RESTIVE DONKEYS.
LUSEHAUG BRO, UTLADAL.—RESTIVE DONKEYS.
And without losing more time we all set to work and carried the baggage over. Then came the Tarno Rye’s turn; Zachariah pulled at its head, whilst ourself and Noah pushed behind, and forced it by main strength up the stones to the wicket. It was almost over the cliff once, but we both laid hold of a hind leg each, whilst Mephistopheles tugged at the donkey’s head. As the frailbridge shook it is lucky we did not all vanish into the chasm below. With main force the Tarno Rye was lifted on to the bridge, and finding itself there quietly allowed itself to be led by Zachariah and Ole to the other side.
It was rather expected we should succeed in the same way with the other two, but they made such a resolute fight that there was considerable risk of losing one of the donkeys through the handrail at the end of the bridge.
“Bring the tether rope, Noah.”
We then proposed to noose them by the head, and so drag them over. Noah further suggested that we might double the rope and pass it round the donkeys hind quarters. It was a good idea immediately adopted. The Puru Rawnee was the first. Esmeralda and Zachariah at the ends of the doubled rope across the bridge. Ourself on the bridge steadying its head. Noah and Ole pushing behind.
Sharp was the contest, first at the stones leading to the bridge, then at the light rails at the end of the bridge which shook under our weight as the donkey resisted. Now and again Esmeralda pulled. Mephistopheles pulled, and the Puru Rawnee, at length, sorely against her will, was dragged over the bridge.99ThePuru Rye was also soon pulled over by the same method, amid much laughter from our gipsies. In a few minutes the donkeys were again loaded.
“What is the name of the bridge?” asked we.
“Lusehaug Bro,” said Ole as we pushed along the Utladals Elv, and whilst we gradually ascended obliquely higher above the Utladals Elv, so the Utladals Elv seemed to sink deeper, and deeper, into the hidden recesses of a bottomless ravine. In a short time we entirely lost sight of its rapid waters.100
This river is ultimately joined by the waters from the Mörkfos. After winding along the hill side we reached a sort of upper plateau at the foot of the Skögadal.
Near the Skögadals Elv are two sœters some short distance apart, on the banks of the Elv, whose swift course is soon lost down the precipitous steeps which abruptly fall from the plateau to the dark narrow ravine below. Halting at a short distance from the Skögadal sœters, a fire was lighted, and we had fried bacon and potatoes and tea for dinner. Until we had another tent pole it was impossible to pitch our tent. Shortly after dinner it poured with rain, but our baggage was all safely covered with our siphonia waterproof. Ole showed his ready skill by cutting down a small birch tree in the wood just above us, which he shaped out with his hunting knife to the proper size and length, and then cut holes sufficiently large for our tent raniers. A very good substitute Ole made. We have it now, after allthe rough work of our remaining campaign. There was a slight cessation of rain, during which the tents were pitched. We were delighted with our camping ground. All were pleased with it. It was certainly a wild, secluded, and beautiful spot. There was the pleasing reflection that we were at home in our pleasant camp. No care, no trouble, no sleeping in sœter beds in a suffocating close atmosphere, or lying on mud floors, slimy with spilt milk and damp moisture. No anticipation of fleas, with the certainty of such anticipation being realized to the fullest extent of human endurance. Then there are floating visions as to the number and variety of people who have previously slept in these beds. Some idea may be formed of sœter life by the following extract of recent personal experience, related by Mr. Murray Browne:—“I prepared for the night by pulling on my second shirt and second pair of trousers over that which I was wearing at the time. I then lay down on the floor with a rug—a sort of horse-cloth—under me, and a rope for my pillow. My brother and Saunders slept on a sort of bench, with their legs stretched under a kind of shelf which served as the only table. The women and children occupied the only bed, and Hans and his son slept, like myself, on the floor. Before long it got very cold.”101
On the right of the Utladals Elv a foaming torrent falls from an upper plateau of the Horungerne. On our left we could see the Skögadals Elv, and on the opposite side the Aurdals Axelen, forming the two sides of the valley out of which issues the Skögadals Elv, and falls down rocky steeps into the deep gorge of the Utladal.A beautiful green, moss-covered, rocky, low hill, formed our foreground on the opposite side of the Skögadals Elv. As you look down the deep gorge beyond, two hills rise in picturesque outline, one with a very steep, dark summit. The white foam of a waterfall contrasts with the dark rocks of the mountain down which it falls. In the far distance a small pointed hill stands alone. It is far down the gorge, as far as the eye can reach. For our tea we had gröd and milk. Ole retired to the sœter at eight o’clock, and as it rained heavily we all went to bed. When we retired to rest on the mossy turf; we could not help expressing pity for the unfortunate people stoved up in the sœters. Ole said it would probably rain next day, but if fine it was arranged that he should call us up at three o’clock the next morning.
It rained heavily when we awoke about three o’clock so that we continued our repose. Ole called us at a much later hour. We gave him out of our tent, matches, and material for making the fire, and soon joined him. The gipsies also were up and stirring. Esmeralda soon managed the breakfast service from her kettle bag, which was quite equal to Pandora’s box for the extraordinary quantity and variety of things it contained. The frokost consisted of fladbröd, butter and tea. The day was dull and cloudy. We could hear with greater distinctness the roar of the rising waters of the Skögadals Elv. This was pleasant, except that we had the prospect of having one or two of our donkeys drowned in crossing the rapid waters.
The morning gradually cleared, and we diligently wrote up our notes till one o’clock. Esmeralda then announced our mid-day meal. The hobbenengree hadboiled some of Ole’s bacon with the unfortunate piece of dried meat from Holaker, which had persistently haunted our soup kettle for so many miles. There was no mistaking it as Noah pronged it out with a fork, and suddenly let it fall back into the soup, as if he had seen the ghost of his Uncle Elijah.
Although not in our arrangement Ole had always had his meals from our commissariat. Ole Rodsheim was worthy of our hospitality, and we had enough to spare. On this occasion Ole said he had shared all our meals, and we might as well consume the bacon, and three loaves of bread he had brought with him. As to our tea Ole had acquired such a taste for it, that we doubt whether he will ever again be able to do without it. Our meal consisted of soup, boiled bacon, the mysterious piece of dried meat, potatoes and fladbröd.
When we looked over the maps after dinner with Ole, we could not help being astonished at theétendueand wonderful extent of wild mountain terrain scarcely explored by the Alpine Club. What a network of deep gorges, glens, valleys, lakes, and glaciers, out of which rise hundreds of steep and rugged peaks; very many have never been ascended and are scarcely known. Three lakes were pointed out by Ole as having been purchased by English gentlemen; the Rus Vand, the Heimdals Vand, and the Sikkildals Vand. Some of the lakes are of considerable extent, as the Bygdin Vand, which Ole said was about seventeen and a half miles long. The Gjendin Vand and the Tyen Vand were also large lakes easily reached from near our tent. After a careful inspection of our maps, we decided to take Ole early the next morning and visit the Mörk Fos, leavingthe gipsies in care of the camp, and returning in the evening. A reconnaissance was made up the Skögadals valley above the sœters to find a crossing for our donkeys; the usual ford was too deep. Noah and Zachariah said no donkey could stand with water above his knees. The place, at last selected, was certainly better for our purpose, but we were not very sanguine. Ole said a carrier was expected at the sœter that evening, and some help might be obtained.
It was a beautiful evening after the rain. The view up the Skögadal (wooded valley) with Melkadalstinderne (the peaks of the Milk valley) in the distance, and across the river the Aurdals Axelen, which Ole said meant the shoulder of the stony valley, completed a scene long to be remembered; the sides of the Skögadal valley being covered in places with birch wood, has not the too sterile and desolate appearance of some valleys through which we had passed. About five o’clock, when we were having our gröd and milk for tea, the expected carrier and his boy were seen coming up the mountain track below our tents. The horses shied at first at our camp, but Noah went down and led one, and they passed without difficulty. Each horse can carry about eight vaage, rather more than 3 cwt., each Norwegian vaage being 38 lbs. One of the carrier’s horses was a powerful animal, larger than the Norwegian pony. Two strong wooden barrels, with lids, are slung on each side a wooden frame or saddle furnished with iron rings and a leather crupper. The barrels are two feet two inches long, by eleven and three-quarter inches wide, and one foot eight inches deep. The weight is well balanced, and the fasteningsvery strong and well adapted to stand the rough stony tracks of the Norwegian fjelds. An arrangement was quickly made for the carrier to take Ole and ourself across the Skögadals Elv the next morning, and bring us back in the evening, for half a mark each. It rained heavily after tea. About nine o’clock, when it was over, we took Noah and Zachariah to the upper sœter to give the people some music. Ole was there, the carrier, and his son, and the sœter women. As we came in we made our début in the Skögadal world of music by slipping on the uneven mud floor of the first room, and falling down, nearly upsetting the sœter woman’s bucket of milk, who was milking, and if we had not been very quick completely smashing our guitar. Our satisfaction at having rescued our guitar which had been carried without injury by Esmeralda so many miles, quite healed any bruises we sustained. No bones broken; we were soon up, and in the second room. The violin, guitar, and tambourine, soon waked up the stillness of the night. We must say that no artistes of the greatest celebrity could have had a more pleased and admiring audience. As we retired we felt quite giddy from the extreme closeness of the atmosphere of the sœter. Noah had also carried off two fleas; so much the better for Ole. The night was damp and windy as we sought our camp and went to bed.
Early awake, we were completing our toilette to the music of snoring gipsies when Ole came. Half-past five, gröd and milk formed our breakfast, Ole adding to his own some myse ost, to qualify, as he said, the milk. The carrier came with one of his horses; we both mounted and forded the Skögadals Elv, and turning thehorse back he returned across riderless to his master. Commencing our expedition at seven o’clock, we made our way for some distance through a large birch wood, and at length descended into the valley called Aurdal.102This part of the narrow valley which we crossed is completely full of enormous stones piled one upon another in wild chaos. Ole called the valley Urdal or Aurdal. All was wild sterility, and the separate detached blocks of loose stone were often so enormous, that it was slowly, and with difficulty we made our way to the opposite side. A stream flowed far beneath the loose stones tossed and piled above its course in extraordinary masses. Its waters were at times obscured and hidden by the blocks of stone of all shapes and sizes, piled in heterogeneous confusion. When we left this stony valley we continued our route along the sloping sides of the mountain beyond, to the left of the deep gorge of the Utladals Elv. At about eleven o’clock in the forenoon we reached the “Fleskedal Sœter.” The stöl is pleasantly situated on a rise of open mountain ground near a clear stream of water. Leaving our things with the sœter woman, we descended through a steep forest of birch and firs, and at last crossing a new bridge over a wild torrent soon afterwards reached another stöl or sœter which was closed. This was the Vettismark forest and sœter. Ole said that this forest was renowned for its large trees. Round the sœter the trees were partly cleared; some were left scattered here and there. The whole scene reminded us of a sheep station in an Australian forest. From this picturesque plateau we had splendid views of some of the summits of theHorungerne mountains. The scene was beautiful in the sunshine of mid-day; it made us wish to linger there for ever. What a spot for a tent. Crossing the narrow stream near the sœter, and passing through a lovely forest view, we were soon near the edge of the hanging cliff, over which the narrow river we had crossed, falls in one straight and almost perpendicular column of water, not less than 800 feet—we thought it more. In a note to Captain Campbell’s interesting article on the Mörkfos, published in the “Alpine Journal” of August 1870, it seems that the height of the fall is about 1000 feet.103
We refer our readers to this article for an excellent description of this waterfall, and especially to the engraving there given of the fall, which is from an original sketch by Captain Campbell.
The sun shone high; the sky was Italian blue. Ole produced his rope; carefully securing it round our body, he steadied himself at a small tree and held the other end of the rope. Then we advanced to the edge of the hanging cliff. The wild heath formed an arched and matted roof above the far distant rocks in the abyss below. As we cautiously leant over, Nature broke upon us in all the light of her splendid magnificence. Who can doubt the power of a great Creator who views such scenes? We could have stayed there never-tiring to eternity. As we seemed to catch as it were the broken ground with our legs, almost suspended in mid air, we could not divest ourselves of the thought thatsome of the finest scenes in Nature are often overlooked. Had the shelving cliff given way we were secured by a rope, but we must say our position would have been unpleasant. The cliffs on either side stand abruptly out and are overhanging, so that it is difficult to get a good view of the fall from above, except at the point we were looking over. The rocks below, which receive the waters of the fall, for some distance upwards are almost black.
When we retired from the cliff’s edge, we roped Ole and he had a similar view. Notwithstanding all that had been said by Captain Campbell, the Mörkfos far surpassed our expectations in height, volume of water, and picturesque beauty. There is no drawback. All accessories are perfect. Mountain outline, rock, tree, forest—all that surround the fall, rival it in their several perfections of harmonious beauty. Reluctantly we must say, that even the Rjukan fos and its romantic association of the “Lovers” or “Marie stein” is scarcely equal to the Mörkfos.104Other lovers of nature who visit this wild scene may probably pass a decisive opinion either to confirmor reverse ours. Both falls have their separate beauty.
The valley of the Aardal below, is all the most enthusiastic lover of nature could desire.105Opposite to us were the magnificent steeps of the Maradalstinder. The waterfall roaring down its sides, was only dwarfed, by its more splendid rival the Mörkfos. The fall opposite is the Maradals elv fos. As we watched it, a beautiful iris of red, yellow, and blue, hovered above the foaming waters, the only one, we had ever seen.
Before we left, we contemplated the deep valley of the Aardal, and its wooded sides. Trees covered the summit of the cliffs, on either side the Mörkfos. One mountain ash, had caught its roots in a cleft, and overhung in mid-air. Scotch firs crowned the rocks above.
We left at a quarter to one. Never shall we forget a small patch of golden moss, forming a miniature island in a small forest tarn; its resplendent colour in the glowing sun. Near the sœter in the Vettismark forest, a few large trees scattered near, were without bark, and dead. The Vettismark Sœter, and the Fleskedal Sœter, Ole said, belonged to the same owner. The ascent to the Fleskedal Sœter was very steep, but we reached it at five minutes past two o’clock.
Our middags mad, on the banks of the stream, near the Fleskedal Sœter, consisted of cold bacon, fladbröd, a box of sardines, and kage bröd, or ovens bröd (bread baked in an oven), which we had brought with us. Ole boiled our water at the sœter, and we had two pannikins of tea. The Fleskedal Sœter is a new sœter. Onewoman, and some children, were staying there. The sœter is built of wood, and of the usual size. We paid the woman four skillings, for allowing Ole to boil our water at the sœter.
It appears that Messrs. Boyson and Harrison stayed at the Fleskedal Sœter one night, with three other gentlemen going to Lyster. We were told that for one bed, for two of the party, the other three sleeping as they could, and for some fladbröd, butter, and milk, they were charged two specie dollars, or nine shillings English money, when they left. An English gentleman, accompanied by a reindeer hunter, came to the Fleskedal Sœter the day before we arrived, and stayed all night. Early in the morning he had shot a reindeer in the mountains.
The English sportsman returned to the sœter for a pony, but could not get one, and went to obtain one somewhere else. He said he should reserve the reindeer’s skin for himself, and send the carcass to a friend at Bergen. Ole said he would probably have to pay two or three dollars, and if he had sent it down to Skögadals Sœter, the carrier would have met the steamer for Bergen, and it would have gone at a much cheaper rate.
Leaving Fleskedal Sœter at about four o’clock, we had a delightful walk along the mountain slopes. At one point, in the depths of the valley below, on the opposite bank of the Utladal Elv, we could see the Bondegaard of Vormelid. A deep dark shadow seemed to hang about it in the far distance below. What a solitary abode. Few footsteps would ever pass its threshold. Imagine the winter solitude of this homestead. The silence broken by the wolf’s howl. Ole said the bears had destroyed the cattle of the former owner. He was nearly ruined. Thebridge across the torrent was broken down, and the house deserted. Ole signaled as we approached the Skögadals Elv. The gipsies were soon on the alert to give us welcome. The carrier brought two horses, and we crossed the river. Our tents were reached at seven o’clock.
The gipsies appeared to have slept most of the day. They had not even quarrelled. We began to think they must be ill, until we found they had diligently inspected nearly every single article we possessed, which were afterwards carefully arranged upside down. We decided to move very early the next day, and Ole had the gröd at once prepared for breakfast the next morning.
Before retiring to rest, we strolled on the turf near our tents, and watched the secluded valley by moonlight. Vast ranges of snowy mountains were before us silvered by the moon. As we looked down the valley, we could not help observing, a large shadowed outline, representing the figure of a woman, singularly distinct, and formed by the conformation of a hill above the ravine. It was Sunday, and no music was given at the sœters.
“That gipsy grandmother has all the appearance of a sowanee” (sorceress).—“All the appearance of one!” said Antonio; “and is she not really one? She knows more crabbed things, and crabbed words than all the errate betwixt here and Catalonia; she has been amongst the wild Moors, and can make more drows, poisons, and philtres than any one alive. She once made a kind of paste, and persuaded me to taste, and shortly after I had done so, my soul departed from my body, and wandered through horrid forests and mountains, amidst monsters and duendes, during one entire night. She learned many things amidst the Corahai, which I should be glad to know.”Borrow’sBible in Spain.
“That gipsy grandmother has all the appearance of a sowanee” (sorceress).—“All the appearance of one!” said Antonio; “and is she not really one? She knows more crabbed things, and crabbed words than all the errate betwixt here and Catalonia; she has been amongst the wild Moors, and can make more drows, poisons, and philtres than any one alive. She once made a kind of paste, and persuaded me to taste, and shortly after I had done so, my soul departed from my body, and wandered through horrid forests and mountains, amidst monsters and duendes, during one entire night. She learned many things amidst the Corahai, which I should be glad to know.”
Borrow’sBible in Spain.
THE MEISGRIE—WE CROSS A RIVER—THE SLIPPERY ROCK—AN ACTIVE GUIDE—THE CARRIER’S AID—THE LAME HORSE—MELKE-DALSTINDERNE—THE STONY WAY—THE NEDREVAND—OLE’S NIGHT QUARTERS—THE LAKE BY MOONLIGHT—EARLY RISING—EISBOD ON THE BYGDIN LAKE—THE POET’S HOUSE—VINJE THE POET—THE POETICAL MORTGAGE—PLEASANT ACQUAINTANCE—OLD NORWEGIAN POETRY—THE REINDEER HUNTER—ESMERALDA CONDONED.
At twenty minutes past two o’clock we were up. Calling Ole and our gipsies, we had our gröd and milk for breakfast. Our expenses at Skögadal amounted to nine marks eighteen skillings, as follows—
Some little delay occurred in getting the carrier and his horse. He was the husband of the woman of one of the sœters. She was a tall powerful woman, with a red face, and sharp temper, much older than himself. It was whispered that he had married her for her money. If he had, she had certainly the best of the bargain. Our tents and heavy baggage, were soon packed up in a meisgrie or crate, and slung up on the wooden packsaddle of the carrier’s horse. The Norwegian meisgrie is a capital contrivance. It is a kind of network made of birch twigs, which laces up with a long tie, one foot eleven inches long. It is very strong and very light. Wishing the sœter women farewell, and they seemed sorry to lose us, especially the music, we soon reached the river.
Our people and baggage were soon forded across. We remained behind with our three donkeys, having a tether rope stretching across the river. Fastening it with a noose round the Puru Rawnee’s neck, she was first pulled across, plunging and struggling to the other bank. The Tarno Rye was assisted through the stream in a similar manner. The Puro Rye saved us the trouble by jumping into the stream, to follow his companions. There was a loud outcry by the gipsies that he would be drowned, but he fought through the torrent famously, and reached the other bank in safety.
The view was beautiful as we looked up the Skögadal. The Melkadalstind towered above the mountain ranges, which closed the upper portion of the valley, leaving no outlet, but a stony col on the distant ridge. The occasional wooded sides of the valley, with firs, birch, and dark foliaged alder, relieved the valley from all appearance of desolation. The white foam of two torrents, andoccasional patches of snow, on the mountain sides, at the head of the valley, contrasted well with wooded slopes which margined the winding stream.
VIEW OF MELKADALSTIND, FROM THE VALLEY OF SKÖGADAL, SKÖGADALS ELV.
VIEW OF MELKADALSTIND, FROM THE VALLEY OF SKÖGADAL, SKÖGADALS ELV.
We had now crossed the river, and, following over the broken ground of its right bank, we at length reached the head of the pleasant valley of Skögadal. Again we had to cross the Skögadals Elv now a narrow impetuous torrent, rushing forth from a glacier, at some distance to our right.
The carrier with his strong horse, for which he wanted sixty dollars, crossed easily enough. Noah and Zachariah managed somehow to get to the other side with the donkeys. The Skögadals Elv was now not very wide, but rapid, and over our knees, in the middle of the stream, which was icy cold. Never shall we forget Ole in a narrow part of the stream, out of which rose two rocks, balancing on one, whilst he steadied Esmeralda, who had jumped on the other. The torrent narrowed in its course, swift, and impetuous, occasionally laved with its flowing waters Esmeralda’s boots, as she stood on the slippery rock, preparing, with Ole’s assistance, to make another jump. It was a question for some minutes whether Esmeralda would not lose her foothold, and drag Ole after her, into the foaming waters.
The scene was charming, the reindeer hunter on one rock, Esmeralda on the other, both hand in hand. Balanced above the flowing waters; sometimes we thought Esmeralda was slipping backwards, now with Ole’s assistance she has recovered herself. Another jump across the foaming waters; Esmeralda hesitates. A word of encouragement, Esmeralda jumps. She has reached Ole’s rock, she balances again; thanks to Ole, by another hasty spring, she is safe on the other side.
Soon joining our party, we ascended a winding stony track from the Skögadal, passing through a col, we reached a second long wild valley, wild and stony in the extreme, here and there a glacier above. The fine peak of the “Melkedals” above us. Sometimes we skirted the margin of small sheets of water, and lonely mountain tarns. Over this long reach of broken rock we made our way slowly; at last we again ascended towardsanother col, to reach apparently another valley beyond. We had nearly reached the top of the ascent towards the next valley, when the carrier suddenly halted, and Ole said he wished to take something to eat. Our carrier was a quiet, spare, muscular, and not bad-looking man; we had noticed him when we crossed the river; no shouting, bustle, bewilderment, or gesticulation, he simply did quietly what he thought best. If it did not succeed, and we had all been drowned, it is doubtful whether he would have moved a muscle of his countenance. Yet he was not a man without feeling, and would probably have felt all the more. All was regulated to one steady pace for horse and man, and to save the world he would not have gone slower or faster. A fire was made with the roots of stunted juniper, and our water boiled for tea. Our carrier had only some fladbröd, and raw old bacon for his dinner. From our commissariat we supplemented it with tea, and brandy and water. It was soon found that when we had halted at twelve o’clock, he considered his bargain ended, and that he was entitled to his dollar, and an extra mark for his second horse, to cross the Skögadals river. It was thought we should have had his services for the best part of the day.
Ole asked our carrier to give us another hour which would make what he considered the value of the dollar, but the man would not go any farther; an extra mark would not tempt him. He had come eleven miles; one of his horse’s shoes was loose. Our gipsies thought he should have continued until one o’clock. Lending the man our hammer, and axe, to fasten the horse shoe on, which was much too small, we paid him his six marks. Advancing towards us in a solemn manner, he shookhands, and with his horse rather lame, he went off at the same regulated steady pace. If intelligence had been suddenly brought that the Skögadals sœter, had been burnt down, and his tall wife in it, we do not think he would have gone one step faster towards the scene of conflagration.
Noah! Zachariah! let the donkeys be loaded. Esmeralda clears our dinner service into the kettle bag. Ole is up and stirring; we are soon off at ten minutes past one o’clock. Our party was soon over the ridge; a long stony valley lay before us beneath the rugged steeps of the Melkedalstinderne. The donkeys did their best with their loads; the lift with the carrier’s horse in the morning, had been very useful. Ole had evidently resolved to make a determined push towards Eisbod. Many swift, but shallow streams coming from the glaciers above, were crossed without difficulty. With some perseverance the Melkedals vand106is reached; it is called the œvre vand or upper lake. A still dark lake, nothing but masses of loose rocks for its shores. Ole said there were no fish in it. How we made our way over the loose masses of stone on the left bank, from one end to the other, is a marvel, sometimes up, sometimes down, with often nothing, but pointed rocks, for our loaded animalsto stand upon. Noah did his best. At last the Puru Rawnee slipped with her load, and fell with her legs between the rocks. We were much afraid she would break or cut her legs all to pieces. She was quickly unloaded. By good fortune our handsome Puru Rawnee, had not broken any bones; the hair was bruised off in some places; she was able to go on. Quickly reloading again, we were thankful to leave the desolate shores of the Melkedals vand, still struggling on step, by step, with our tired animals; at length we reached a small wild mountain tarn. At one place we crossed the track of a reindeer; time was fast fleeting towards night, we could not very well camp where we were, nothing but rocky steeps, and loose masses of stone on every side, not a blade of grass to be seen for our donkeys. Leaving the lonely tarn we came to a mountain stream. Our route now became very steep, often down loose masses of rock. Ole and ourself had to lead the way, and occasionally form a rough road, or form steps with loose fragments of rock, to enable our animals to proceed. All the care of our gipsies was necessary. A false step by either of the donkeys would probably disable it for further exertion. At some places we had to pile up masses of stone for a considerable height, to enable the donkeys to descend the rough, and broken declivities of rock. Slowly and cheerfully we made our way, everyone doing his best. Now and then some small streams of water had to be crossed. Coming down a steep declivity we at length came in sight of the waters of the Melkedals, “Nedre Vand,” or the Lower Lake.
As the shades of night were fast descending, we reached the lake, and making our way slowly along the leftbank, we halted on a slope, close to the shore of the lake. There was a semblance of green; just enough blades of grass, to enable us to fancy we were on turf. Seeing nothing but loose rocks beyond, we decided to stay.
“Well, sir,” said the gipsies, “where’s the fire?”
MELKEDALS, NEDRE VAND.
MELKEDALS, NEDRE VAND.
“Ah,” said Ole, “perhaps you can do without one this evening, or we will go on if you like.”
We determined to stay.
“It is uncertain,” said Ole, “if we come to any better camping-ground.”
Zachariah, who was always foremost in settling allmatters, had first to be extinguished before we could light our camp fire at the Nedre Vand.
“Fire,” said we; “some fuel shall be found somewhere—warm tea we will have.”
The donkeys were soon relieved of their burthens. It is astonishing how soon men accustomed to camp life in the mountains, quickly avail themselves of all material. With a few roots, and some dry turf, our water soon boiled over a camp fire. We had never failed during our campaign. There is, besides, something very cheerful in seeing your fire in the shades of evening, on the shore of a lake. Our spirits were soon as gay as usual. After our tea, fladbröd and butter, Ole made himself comfortable under a rock. First, putting up some sods with a spade; then placing a large flat piece of turf, and stunted juniper roots above, Ole slipped himself under, and wrapping a handkerchief, and his bag of pig’s bristles round his neck and head, with our waterproof over all, was soon asleep.
Ole said we had travelled about seventeen miles from Skögadal sœter. At one time just before tea, Ole went up the ridge beyond our camp, to examine the way. He thought he heard a rifle shot, and might meet some reindeer hunters.
It was a beautiful moonlight night; we stood on the shores of the lake after all had gone to rest. There was our sleeping guide under his rock. There our sleeping gipsies ’neath their tents; near our camp our three gallant merles. They had indeed fought their way well for us; nor did we forget to caress them sometimes. The Puru Rawnee had to be bathed occasionally with a little weak brandy and water; sometimes to bestrengthened up with a little bruise mixture; biscuit, and now and then a piece of bread, also fell to their share.
Beyond a picturesque island on the other shore, we could see a large glacier stretching apparently into the very waters of the lake.107How beautiful in the moonlight below those wild peaks. There were some dark crevasses to be seen on the glacier’s surface. At times, in the stillness of the night, we could hear that sound peculiar to glaciers, a loud cracking noise, which echoed across the waters to our camp.
Up at half-past three o’clock. Zachariah! Vand! water! yog! fire! now quick, Noah! Our gipsies are up. Ole is up, of course. We saw him to bed, or we should think he sat up over night to be ready. Tea, fladbröd, and our last tin of potted meat, for breakfast. Tents struck; all moving along the slope from the lake at seven o’clock.
We slowly make our way over loose stones, and a mountain ridge is soon gained. We commence our descent towards the Lake Bygdin far below us. Descending carefully down a snow slope, we crossed a wild torrent. Sometime afterwards we reached the left slopes of Melkedalen, between the Grava Fjeld and Slaataafjeld. Still continuing our descent of Melkedalen, we reached the shores of a lake.
As we came in sight of this long, and beautiful lake, Ole pointed out the “Poet’s House” on a bold promontory. At the head of the lake we could perceive it. It has just the appearance of a newly-built châlet, or sœter; something lonely and picturesque in its position. Its association with poetry gave it a further charm.
We were still at some distance from the “Poet’s House.” Ole signalled for a boat. In the distance we could see some figures near the house, apparently watching our party. They were probably puzzled, as to who we could be, issuing forth in early morning, from the wild recesses, of Melkedalstinderne.
Two boats came to the shore where we were. All our baggage was placed in one; we handed Esmeralda into the other. Ole, Noah, and Zachariah started off on the donkeys to ford the river, and round the upper bend of the lake to the “Poet’s House.”
The boats glided on the smooth water of the lake. The sun gilded the lofty mountains on either shore; all quietude, peace, and contentment. The Norwegian poet has well chosen, thought we, this charming seclusion from the world.
Our boats rounded the promontory past the “châlet.” Two ladies, and three gentlemen were near it; some were seated, watching us as we came near. They were making use of a large telescope.
Our boatmen landed at some little distance past the “Poet’s House” on the beach of the promontory,—a sort of inland bay. As we came to the shore, we noticed a man seated near a hut, whisking a leafy branch over some dark looking pieces of meat, hanging from a line. We afterwards found it was rein-deer meat, being dried in the sun. The man was keeping the flies off, while the meat was being dried for future consumption.
Our baggage was all safely deposited on a pleasant slope of ground, not far from the rein-deer hunter’s hut. We had a good View of the “Poet’s House.” Ole, and Noah, and Zachariah soon joined us. Our boatmen werewell satisfied with one mark. Noah and Zachariah had got their legs wet in crossing the river, but Ole had the forethought to take off his stockings, before he rode into the stream.
The history of the “Poet’s House” appeared to be as follows:—The wooden cottage, which consists of two small rooms only, cost 100 dollars, Norwegian money, or about 20l.English. The poet, Aasmund Olafsen Vinje, joined with others in the cost of erection. When the poet was required to pay 25 dollars, his stipulated share, he was unable to do so. He had certainly more than 25 pence, but he could only spare 5 dollars. This was certainly better than the man who owed 465l.4s.6d., and offered his creditor the 4s.6d.Poets, somehow, are seldom wealthy. We have occasionally bright exceptions. Vinje was not one. To release the poet from his difficulty, it was agreed that he should mortgage his interest in the house, and write a mortgage in poetry for the sum. Vinje did this. The mortgage deed in poetry, will ever remain, a curious, and interesting association, with the “Poet’s House” on the Bygdin lake.108
Our experience does not enable us to give a single instance of any of the English lawyers writing a mortgage in poetry. The only instance we know of any legal document being written in poetry, in England, is the will of Sir Willoughby Dixon, of Bosworth Park, Leicestershire. It was written by himself. United to the refinement of the scholar, there is often a sharp, sound, practical hitting the-right-nail-on-the-head sort of ability, among the country gentry of England. A manlyvigour of intellect, united to an intense love of honourable dealing, and fair play, in all the affairs of life.
A rein-deer hunter, a friend of Ole’s, soon afterwards came to us. He was a tall, spare, keen man, and brought some rein-deer meat up in a small wooden tub. We were afraid to buy more than one piece; the weather was hot, and the meat would not keep long. Another reason for not buying more rein-deer meat was, our chance of obtaining fish at the Tyen Lake, which we expected to reach the same afternoon. Our fire was soon lighted. One of the gentlemen from the “Poet’s House” came up. The gipsies were very busy preparing our dinner. A young Norwegian gentleman, who wore a uniform tunic and trousers of green cloth, came to our camp. He was fair and prepossessing. Amiability was written in his countenance, without looking in his hand. He spoke some English. After our meal, it was arranged we should pay himself and friends a visit at the “Poet’s House,” where they were staying. Tea, fried rein-deer, pickled walnuts, and fladbröd, formed our repast. A short man, in a leather jacket, trousers, and cap, came up, and we paid him sixteen skillings for the rein-deer meat.
Skeaker was before us. Resolving in our mind to go without our gipsies to the “Poet’s House,” we left them to pack up and load the donkeys, whilst we went with Ole to visit the poet’s retreat.
The châlet is built of logs, on a rising point of land, at the head of the lake. The first of the two rooms it contained, had a fireplace for cooking, and two boarded bedsteads, not unlike “bunks,” but more finished, and elaborate. The room had also one window, which would not open. A door gave entrance to the inner room, alsoprovided with two similar bedsteads. The inner chamber was occupied by the ladies, and had only one window, which apparently did not open for ventilation. A beautiful bouquet of wild flowers, stood upon the room table; all was order and neatness. How soon we distinguished the female hand, in domestic arrangement.
The view from the châlet was a scene of enchantment, as we looked in the glorious midday sun, over the distant expanse of lake. On the left shore of the lake, rise the mountains of the Grava Fjeld, Galdeberg, the lofty Sletmarkhö, and the Svartdalspiggne. Again, to our right, rise the wild mountain ranges of the Dryllenöset, Volaahornene, and Oxendalsnöset, the home of the rein-deer, the eagle, the wolf, and the bear.
The visitors at the “Poet’s House” appeared to do everything for themselves. They had, no doubt, their commissariat, like ourselves. The young ladies were very agreeable, and good looking. We were told they were the daughters of a banker. The elder gentleman of the party, who spoke a little English, pointed out some old Norwegian poetry, written in pencil, on the inner room door. They had been staying at the châlet about eight days. Often, in after life, shall we remember our pleasant visit, to the “Poet’s House,” on the beautiful Lake Bygdin.
On our return to our party, we found Noah had broken his Alpine stock. Zachariah had commenced fishing in the lake, but was referred by some man to a stream near, which Zachariah alleged was destitute of fish. Esmeralda was short and chaffy.
One rein-deer hunter, made a start for the mountainswith the telescope. We were told that it belonged to Prœsten Halling, who seemed either in person, name, or belongings, to be everywhere. The rein-deer hunter swung off at a jaunty pace, as if he would make short work of the very steep mountain before him. Ole said he was going to look out for rein-deer.
The party from the “Poet’s House” came up to see us off. They seemed interested in our equipment. We also showed the young ladies our guitar. A copy of our song, had previously been given to one of the party. With very little delay, we hastened away from this region of poetry. Esmeralda was getting impetuous. Even the donkeys, after all their mishaps during the previous day, were eager to proceed on the journey. With many adieux to the very pleasant visitors at the “Poet’s House” we left Eisbod, and the Bygdin Lake.109
Esmeralda was very determined, stepping after the baggage, as only a gipsy can step. Ole, of course, leads the way. Three merles loaded, Noah and Zachariah, and then Esmeralda, and then ourselves.
Esmeralda had been very quick in movement, up and down, and everywhere, with now and then, something to say. We were thankful when we were removed, with this restless orbit of our wanderings, from the “Poet’sHouse.” Yet she said soon afterwards, she had only pretended to be offended, we must think nothing of it. We were on the eve of fresh scenes, why should we remember a slight ripple on the glittering surface of the waters of Lake Bygdin.
The guitar is part and parcel of the Spaniard and his ballads; he slings it across his shoulder with a ribbon, as was depicted on the tombs of Egypt four thousand years ago. The performers seldom are very scientific musicians; they content themselves with striking the chords, sweeping the whole hand over the strings, or flourishing, and tapping the board with the thumb, at which they are very expert.Ford’sSpain.
The guitar is part and parcel of the Spaniard and his ballads; he slings it across his shoulder with a ribbon, as was depicted on the tombs of Egypt four thousand years ago. The performers seldom are very scientific musicians; they content themselves with striking the chords, sweeping the whole hand over the strings, or flourishing, and tapping the board with the thumb, at which they are very expert.
Ford’sSpain.
LAKE TYEN—THE TOURIST CLUB CHÂLET—LORTWICK SŒTER—LAKE DRIFTWOOD—A COLD MORNING—A CHEAP MEAL—THUNDER IN THE AIR—SUNSHINE AGAIN—THE SEPARATION—THE GALLANT OLE FAREWELL—TO CHRISTIANA—ENERGY ALWAYS—PUSH ON—THE BERGEN ROAD—THE VIOLINIST—ONE DOLLAR MORE—PICTURESQUE SCENE.
Eisbod, on Lake Bygdin, had been left at one o’clock. The Lake Tyen was soon reached. The Lake Bygdin is said to be 17½ English miles long, Lake Tyen about 12 miles. The evening was beautiful when we reached Lake Tyen. Our route lay along its left shore nearly the whole length of the lake.
After we had journeyed some short distance, following the narrow footpath or rough track, we reached Tvindehougen.
This is also a wooden châlet, on a rise of ground above the lake, erected, we were told, at the cost of the “Norwegian Tourist Club” for their accommodation in summer. The cost, we were told, was 100 dollars,equivalent to about 20l.The sketch of the châlet we then made is given below, with a view of the lake, and the Koldedalstinderne (peaks of the cold valley).110