On Christmas Eve the peasants burn a candle all night in the house, and at early morning they go into the cow-house and singe each cow on the tail as a protection against sickness.
"Trolds" are thought to be very musical. If there is an exceptionally clever fiddler at a wedding feast, the peasants say that the performer must have been up the mountains and learnt from the "trolds," who are believed to play weird and bewitching music in the loneliest recesses of the mountains.
In addition to "trolds," there are "huldr" (fairies or sprites). These are said to be very beautiful, and theysometimes assume human form, the only difference being that they have a cow's tail. These "huldr" have their abode underground, and always close by the farm buildings.
It is told that on one occasion a servant-girl by ill-chance threw hot water out from the kitchen door, and immediately the "huldr" called out noisily, screaming that the hot water was scalding them and their children underground. Peasant women to this day will never throw out hot water from their doorways without first saying, "Take care, you who under live." Should children fall sick, the neighbours will say that "the mother cannot expect anything else, for she is in the habit of throwing hot water from the doorway, and the 'huldr' are having revenge."
There is a legend relating to a peasant girl who, on her way to a lonely "sæter," or mountain out-farm, heard a voice near her call out, "Tell Turid that Tarald is dead." The girl could see no one near, andon arriving at the "sæter" told the other girls there what she had heard; immediately there came a loud cry out of the ground, "Oh, it is me who is called Turid, and Tarald is my husband."
A similar story is found in Plutarch, A.D. 120, in which he relates that a skipper sailing among the Greek islands heard a voice which called out, "Thamus." Thamus was the name of the skipper. Twice the voice called out, and he did not answer; but on hearing it for the third time he did reply. The voice then called out to him loudly, "When you come to Palodes, call out that the great Pan is dead."
Thamus thought that he would sail past Palodes, but would not utter a word of what he had heard unless the weather happened to be still. When he arrived there, however, the sea was quiet, and he, remembering the words, called out loudly that the great Pan was dead. Immediately there came from the island a great moaning as of many voices weirdly blended,and this that happened was soon related in Rome.
A quaint conception relating to mountain folklore refers to what is known in Sogn as "jolaskrei," a kind of kelpie or old witch wife; these belong to the nightriders of the kingdom of the departed. They are seen on high, ugly mountain ridges at dead of night. When these kelpies are out, they often visit the stables of the lonely farms and take out the horses. These are brought back again, however, just before dawn, but so overworked or overridden and tired that they are quite ready to collapse with fatigue. To guard against this inconvenience, the peasants paint a cross on the stable door, or lay an axe underneath it. In some places even now the farmers place food and drink on the table on Christmas night after all the family have retired, this being for the kelpies; otherwise they might be angry and cause much annoyance.
In some districts these curious sprites or goblins are known as "vaasedrift." Theseride or drive through the night among the farms; and there are those now living who relate that in their fore-elders' time the bits and reins were found on the horses in the early morning, having been placed there by the kelpies.
The spirits of dead Vikings and chiefs who are buried under those huge mounds, "grav-haug," are thought to visit each other, and may be seen flitting to and fro on Christmas eve and for thirteen nights after.
"Nykk," "nökken" (nixies) are known throughout the country. These were in former times seen near deep and gloomy mountain tarns and by the brooks. These nixies are able to transform themselves into any kind of animal or reptile, sometimes even assuming strange and grotesque shapes, with heads both front and back; they are the spirits of fresh water.
A peculiar legend originates from Underdal in Aurland, in the inner Sogne Fjord. In the olden time there was quitea plague of snakes in that place. A Finn from Nordland happened to be travelling in the neighbourhood. The Finns have always been held in great dread by the Norwegian peasants on account of their pagan practices, witchcraft and sorcery. This pagan Finn offered to rid the place of the reptiles if only there was not among them what he called a "hvidorm" or "visorm" (a wizard serpent), which he described as being in shape like a long hempen rope; it was quite white, and had a red head. The peasants informed him that the "visorm" was never seen there.
The Finn then built up a large "baal" (funeral pyre), and fixed up a high post near by, up which he climbed; it was just so high that none of the snakes could reach him. There he sat and beat loudly on his conjuring drum with a drumstick of reindeer horn, and began to conjure.
Then out sprang the snake, which was charmed by the noise of the "rune" drum, and forthwith sprang all the other snakes:from fell and brake, from crag and wood, all came racing up to the fire. But now, alas! came also the "visorm" so dreaded by the Finn, who shrieked that it was now all over with him, for in company with "visormen" came always "hvidormen," the dragon snake.
Thunder was heard in the crags close by, and a huge piece of rock was hurled into the fjord. As the dragon snake came forth, down sprang the Finn from his high seat; but he was promptly seized by "hvidormen," and both disappeared into the funeral pyre together and were burnt up. It was in this way that Underdal was rid at once of both snakes and Finn, and this happened long ago.
"Trolds" (sprites) and "horven" or "kraken" (sea-monsters) were thought to inhabit the sea and lonely parts of the coast and uninhabited islands in the old days, but it is uncertain whether people nowadays quite believe in this nonsense, although they might say "You must have been a-fishing with 'kraken' to-day" if afisherman happened to come in with an unusual harvest of fish.
"Kraken" is also thought to be the legendary sea serpent which is said to have been seen in still summer weather on the deep sea, far out from land, by fishermen, but always at a distance, never near enough for them to be able to take its dimensions. This sea-monster is supposed to be about one hundred fathoms long, and to wriggle over the surface of the water, at times heaving itself even to the height of the masts of a ship.
An old saga speaks of a kind of merman, "hav-strambr," a sea-monster, whose head resembles a man's helmeted head, the lower part of the body being in shape like to an icicle, and no one has ever seen where it ends. When this monster appears it is said to be a sign of storm and shipwreck.
Quaint customs
A custom which had its origin in pagan times is the lighting of the Saint John's fires, "Sankt Hans," or "Balder's Baal," on midsummer's eve, a festival of the sun,held on the longest day. It is intimately connected with sun-worship, Balder being the sun-god, and fire a symbolic image of the sun.
"Balder's Baal, solbilledet, smukt, brændte paaviede stene."[1]
[1] Frithjof's saga.
This, translated, reads:
"Balder's symbol, sun's beautiful image, burnedin pyres on rocks consecrated."
We read in the Icelandic sagas that the two great festivals of the year in heathen times were Yuletide and midsummer, and both were celebrated by the lighting of great fires. This primitive custom is better preserved in Norway than in most other countries, but even here it appears to be slowly dying out.
Exactly at midnight the fires begin to appear, and soon every promontory, rock, and mountain breast is alight; hundreds of fires shine and glimmer as far as the eye can see, casting their lurid reflections onthe waters of the fjord in the brilliant twilight.
Around the nearer fires may be discerned shadow-like figures moving round the blaze in the dance, the music of the fiddle being almost drowned by the singing and merriment of the young people who are taking part in the proceedings.
A mock wedding forms part of the ceremony, a young peasant girl being dressed as a bride, wearing on her head a crown of birch twigs; the other girls, in national costume, follow in procession, headed by the fiddler, and the boys bring up the rear. The dancing afterwards is kept up all through the long midsummer night.
It is a very effective sight to see the well-filled boats stealing over the water from the surrounding farms, the young folks, dressed in holiday costume, coming to take part in the festival.
In several places along the fjord it is the custom to build a strong raft of logs; this is piled high with combustible materialand floated some distance from shore, where it is anchored. When in full blaze it looks very effective, and lights up the water with ruddy reflection.
Numbers of boats may be observed to creep mysteriously around the fire, at a safe distance from it, and the lively notes of the fiddle and of singing float sweetly over the water.
Another old custom still survives in this district of Sogn. When it becomes known that two young people are to be engaged to be married, the boys in the district shoot into the air with rifles, and fire small cannon around the house on the evening when the young man goes to ask of the parents their consent to the engagement. They also ring hand-bells and blow a horn; these noises must surely prove rather disconcerting to the newly betrothed.
In some cases the prospective bride-groom has many miles of rowing along the fjord before he reaches the home of his lady-love. His visit is usually paid at the end of the week, and he generally spendsthe night there. As a practical joke, the peasant boys have been known to take his boat, drag it up on shore, and hide it in some secluded place, much to his great discomfort and annoyance when he wishes to return in the morning.
At all large weddings, to which may be invited from 150 to 200 guests, festivities are usually kept up for a week or more.
Dancing and fiddling go on day and night continuously, the "Hailing" and "Spring" dances being general favourites on these festive occasions.
The music to these dances is exceedingly lively, even barbaric in character, and the dances are consequently wild and exciting. The services of the Hardanger fiddler are in great request, and he finds himself engaged throughout the springtime, going with his fiddle from one wedding to another.
Each wedding party engage their own fiddler, and he it is who leads the procession from the farm to the church door, and it often occurs that several weddings takeplace at the same church at the same time. There is great competition among the fiddlers on such an occasion, each one playing to the very extent of his ability. With a jaunty air the fiddlers step forward, and each neighbourhood upholds with pride the honour and reputation of their own fiddler.
Ese FjordEse Fjord
It happened that on one such occasion the church folk were divided in their admiration between two fiddlers of about equal cleverness. One side claimed that a feat had been achieved on the way to the kirk by their fiddler, who, while all along playing his best, did at the same time chaff his comrades who stood on the roadside as he calmly went on with his difficult bridal march, as though it were quite the most easy and natural thing in the world.
This same spirit of rivalry also possesses the younger men; each vies with the others in skill and cleverness in the dances, in which their ability to kick the highest is put to the test for the admiration andapplause of the onlooking girls. This rivalry would result at times in quite a battle royal of words, and even more seriously, it would end in real danger to life and limb.
Sailing down the Sogne Fjord from the sea coast, the scenery gradually assumes wilder and grander proportions as we advance. At Vadeim it is just beginning to be interesting and attractive, and when we come to Balholm we enter into the finest part of the fjord.
Here are prosperous farms, smiling orchards, and waving cornfields, and as an effective contrast, glacier and snow-field crown the high and steep mountains around.
Tradition points to this place as the scene of the Swedish poet Tegner's "Frithjof Saga."
Among other burial mounds ("grav-haug")of chiefs from the Viking age at Balholm is pointed out that of King Belè, whose daughter was Ingeborg, whilst at Framnæs, across the fjord, dwelt Frithjof the Viking. These names all occur in the "Frithjof Saga."
At Balholm stands an English church, the only one to be found among the fjords. Built for the use of English visitors in summer-time, its design is similar to that of the ancient wooden "stav-kirk," at Vik in Sogn. It was erected recently, mainly through the efforts of the brothers Kvikne, who during their lifetime have been the means of transforming Balholm from a mere wilderness to a place of great beauty, and one of the most important places of resort among the fjords.
In an earlier part of this book reference was made to the life at a "sæter," or mountain out-farm, a description of which may here be found of interest.
Many of the peasants who live alongside the fjords are also owners of large portions of the mountain plateaux in theirneighbourhood, and on these excellent grazing is found in the summer months.
When the heavy work of the spring has been finished on the home farm, and the snow has left these highlands, and when the vegetation has had time to establish itself anew, the whole farm household gets ready to remove the domestic animals to the "sæter." It is a picturesque sight, this cavalcade, the animals all confusion, cattle lowing and sheep bleating, their bells tinkling merrily as they skip about, the sturdy little ponies, heavily laden with necessary goods and chattels, bringing up the rear. All seem full of glee that they can now have a few months of ideal grazing on those high lands after their imprisonment indoors all the long winter.
Climbing and struggling onwards up the steep valley, then through almost trackless regions of rocks and stunted trees, they at length arrive at their destination, often after some fifteen or twenty miles of travelling.
Life at a "sæter"
At the "sæter" they rest for thesummer months amid rich vegetation by the margin of a lake or mountain tarn, surrounded by high mountain-tops. Here they graze on the bosky slopes to the music of babbling brooks.
The "sæter" houses are mostly small and low, of one story only; they are usually of a very primitive type, being, in fact, the earliest style of house building now in existence in the country, this ancient form surviving here long after it had been abandoned in the home farms. Attached to the dwelling-house, or forming part of it, is a dairy where butter and cheeses are made.
A white cheese, "melkost," is made from fresh cow's milk; a very strongly-flavoured old cheese comes from buttermilk—it is called "gammelost"; and from goat's milk they make "gjedost" or "brimost."
The women and girls only live up at the "sæter," and in addition to the cheese and butter making, they must attend to their domestic animals during the four longest summer months.
The men come up from the home farm at the week-ends with necessary provisions, and take back with them the produce of the "sæter."
Bracing is the rarified air of these high lands; and although the sun's heat is great, it is tempered by the breezes which come from snow-field or glacier on the higher mountains around.
A sæter, Vetle FjordA sæter, Vetle Fjord
When the wild berries are ripe, the younger girls climb the heathery slopes and fill their wooden pails with the cranberries, bilberries, and cloudberries ("multebær"), which abound in great profusion.
Fagesi, Levros, Pentekol, Buskin: to these and other quaintly sounding names the cattle answer, the goats also being known individually by such names as Skjomos, Blegeros, Kvideben, etc.
The cattle have their chosen leader, who wears a bell attached to a leathern collar around the neck; they are led by its sound, and keep within hearing distance as they graze. The sheep and goats also wear bells,nearly all of them, but the sound of these is quite distinct from the cattle-bells.
At a certain time every evening the cows may be seen slowly making their way of their own accord to the "sæter" house, where they quietly wait to be milked.
When it is necessary to call them from a distance, they answer to the sound of the "lur," a kind of alpine horn. This is made of birch, and is about four feet long. When blown lustily it gives out notes clear and sweet, in sound not unlike those of a cornet.
On the "lur" the "sæter" girls are expert performers, and during the long summer evenings they love to make the mountain crags echo with delicious airs, which they produce from this primitive instrument.
The cattle know instinctively when there are bears in the neighbourhood.
At such times they hurry to the "sæter" huts, around which they crowd, and from their melancholy lowing the girls are ledto know that there is danger near. A bonfire is quickly made and kept alight throughout the night; the "lur" is also brought into requisition. Thus, by the aid of fire and music, the danger is averted, for Bruin, being fond of neither, gets himself away as quickly as he can.
Not very many years ago bears were fairly numerous in the high and wild mountain region which lies between the Sogne and Nord Fjords, but, owing in a great measure to the more general use of better guns, they have steadily decreased. The average annual number of bears shot in Norway between the years 1840 and 1860 was 230. This number has gradually dwindled down to a yearly average of 40 for the past decade.
Fjaarland in Sogn is a noted stronghold of these animals, and in this neighbourhood many bears have been shot in recent years.
One old peasant, who lived in Suphelledal here, informed me that he had during his lifetime shot over 30 bears. As witness to his tale, his face and scalp showed eventhen old, but quite distinct, traces of the rough handling he had received in the pursuit of his favourite sport. On one occasion, after having lain in wait for several days up the mountains, he was suddenly confronted by a she-bear with a young cub. So quickly did she appear from behind a rock, and so close to him was she, that he had not time to fire before she struck him on the head with her powerful forefoot, which action tore his scalp over his face and laid him prostrate on the ground. For a moment he felt the hot breath of the bear around his ears as he lay with face buried in the turf. No doubt thinking that he was killed outright, she proceeded, at a few yards' distance, to scrape with her powerful claws among the loose earth and débris in order to make a hole in which to hide her prey.
She stopped from time to time to look up from her work to see if her victim showed any signs of life, and being at length convinced that all was well, she went on with her task with greater energy, andfrom her strong claws the loose earth and stones flew in all directions.
Bear-hunting
The peasant's opportunity, for which he had breathlessly waited, presented itself. Jumping up, he seized his rifle, and with cool and steady aim he was fortunate in bringing down by that one fatal shot a fine animal in the pink of condition. He succeeded at the same time in securing her young cub, and thought himself to be in great good luck that day.
Two fine glaciers, Bojumsbræ and Suphellebræ, are in this district of Fjærland, and both may be visited in a few hours from Mundal. These glaciers are arms of the great Jostedalsbræ, the most extensive ice-field in Europe.
The Bojumsbræ is the most important of the two in regard to size, and the surroundings are majestically grand. King Oscar II. visited this glacier in 1879.
At the Suphellebræ may be seen and heard at any time huge masses of ice falling over the precipice which cuts off the lower from the upper glacier.
At the foot of the lower glacier are several very beautiful ice-caverns, deep blue in colour, from which flows the pale-green ice-water on its way to the head of the fjord which is not far distant.
Glaciers of Fjærland
The valleys in this district are wild and grand. There is, however, rich grazing land, and the peasants are all well-to-do; they retain in primitive fashion the habits and customs of their ancestors, and are very hospitable and kind-hearted.
The people of Sogn—"Sogninger," as they are called—are, on the whole, a powerful and gifted race. Those of Outer (Ytre) Sogn are, as a rule, placid and even-tempered, and the natives of Inner (Indre) Sogn are quick, lively, and excitable. Their dialect ("Sognemaal") is clear, rich, and full-sounding. It is one of the dialects most resembling the old Norwegian language.
Sogn was at one time the seat of mighty families, and many a warlike company of Vikings has sailed from this fjord. The ancient kings of Norway occasionallyvisited Sogn, but not always in a friendly way.
An old historical saga tells of a visit which King Sverre paid the "Sogninger" to take vengeance upon them for the killing of his bailiff at a place named Kaupanger, near Sogndal. Kaupanger, by Sverre's orders, was burned, and so were the houses of Sogndal. The inhabitants of these places fled to the mountains and woods, where they hid themselves and thus escaped.
Fjærland, Sogne FjordFjærland, Sogne Fjord
Immediately after this event King Sverre met his antagonist, Magnus Erlingson, at the mouth of the Sogndal's Fjord, at a place called Fimreite. Here it was that the rival fleets came into contact. The king gained the decisive victory, and thus secured to himself the crown of Norway. This engagement was fought in the year 1184.
On the left bank of the Sogne Fjord is Slinde. At this place, near the close of the thirteenth century, lived Audun Slinde, one of the powerful chiefs whomKing Erick dispatched to Scotland to fetch his bride, the Princess Margaret.
Outside the churchyard at Sogndal stands a "bauta sten," an upright column of stone, on which is the runic inscription: "King Olav shot among these stones."
As we proceed along the main Sogne Fjord we obtain glimpses down branch fjords, and beautiful vistas open out. Mountain torrents and waterfalls are seen on every side threading their steep descent among the crags, now gliding over smooth glaciated rocks, now wriggling in tortuous, snake-like fashion, then a sudden leap over a steep precipice, ending with a final splash into the waters of the fjord.
A steamer's cargo
At sunset the new-fledged moon peeped over snow-topped mountains, which are ruddy with the sun's last rays. The fjord water around is dashed with purple and pale gold, rose, and emerald. A large, cumbersome boat, laden to its utmost capacity with sheep and lambs, puts out from shoreto meet the awaiting steamer. The boat is roped to the steamer's side; the sheep, handled tenderly, are transferred from it to improvised pens on the steamer's foredeck, the sheep in one compartment and the lambs in another. There is also a large open packing-case, which contains the youngest lambs.
A chorus of deep bass and thinnest treble continues spasmodically. The shepherd is among his flock, his whole time taken up in keeping watch and ward over them, especially over the lambs, whose feats of jumping tax to the utmost his patient watchfulness.
As the steamer ploughs along, a pleasant breeze plays on the surface of the now steely grey water.
The snow on the high mountains changes colour to a pale lilac, and the moon brightens as twilight advances, while over in the west the first faint star of evening glimmers in a sky of palest amber.
As we proceed the fjord contracts, themountains are higher and steeper, in places almost perpendicular, and the waterfalls rush down with greater impetuosity into the dark fjord.
We now turn into the Nærö Fjord in brilliant twilight, and some of the grandest and wildest scenery of Sogn is presented to our view. We observe that the kind shepherd is covering up with a sackcloth the smallest lambs, which are in the packing-case on the fore-deck, as a protection from the cool night air, which is rather inclined to be frosty, even on this lovely night of May. The farther we advance up this fjord, the more sombre and overpowering is the impression we receive of this magnificent fjord scenery.
Næro FjordNæro Fjord
We now approach the little hamlet of Dyrdal, romantically situated at the entrance to the narrow valley of the same name. Here huge mountains rear their massive walls into the twilight sky. The Nærö Fjord is narrowest at this point, being only a few hundred yards wide.
The sound of the steamer's syren nowechoes with a metallic ring from one mountain to another in diminishing cadence of sweet notes, and in reply two large boats put out from shore to meet the steamer. With much struggling the woolly flock is transferred to the boats from the steamer, the sheep and lambs appearing quite happy—to judge by the sound of their voices—at the prospect of being on terra firma again.
At a lonely farm situated in the wildest part of Nærö Fjord it was my happy fortune to stay for some days in the merry month of May. On my arrival there, and in compliance with a signal from shore, the steamer slows up, and a boat is brought alongside. A friendly good-bye to the obliging captain, and I am rowed ashore, where I meet the kind owner of the farm, my host. He and his good wife ("kone") show me through the house, an excellent example of a "bonder's" home of the olden time.
The principal living-room is about twenty feet square. The walls displayunusually thick baulks of timber, while the huge beams show distinctly the marks of the axe which fashioned them. The heavy doors are nearly square in shape, with lock and handle of antique design in wrought-iron. On one side of this room stands an elevated open hearth ("peis"), over which hangs a crane, and to this is attached a huge copper cauldron. The smoke from the peat fire escapes through the roof by a very wide open chimney. A clean-scrubbed massive table almost fills one end of the room by the side of the wall-benches. High-backed chairs, several spinning-wheels, and a carpet-weaving frame help to fill up this spacious apartment.
To reach the room set apart for me I must climb up wooden ladder-like steps. My room, simply but comfortably furnished, was fresh and clean. On the left side in a dark corner was the customary low, wooden, box-like bed, which I saw at a glance was, for one of my stature, much too short. It was piled high withsome soft material on the top. This covering proved on examination to be a 4-feet square air-tight bag containing eiderdown about a foot deep. Under this was only the thinnest cotton sheet, and I began to wonder how these two as a covering could possibly remain together in harmony throughout the night, and as to whether they were calculated to cover all one's limbs at one and the same time.
On being very considerately asked on the following morning how I had slept, and if I would like an extra eiderdown on, I courteously but firmly declined.
In the Nærö Fjord
At 8 a.m. came breakfast-time. On the table were placed several kinds of native cheese, brown bread, butter and potato-cakes, dried mutton ("spege kjöd"), and boiled potatoes, four boiled eggs, and a large bowl of creamy milk. In addition to these delicacies, a cup of excellent coffee was brought in. The meal nearly ended, and not having made much impression on this mass before me, the goodwife again invited me—almost coerced me—"to make a good meal," and seemed quite disappointed to find that my capacity was so limited.
Similar fare was my portion for the other meals, varied only with boiled goat's flesh, ptarmigan ("rype"), and hare or wild reindeer.
These kind-hearted peasants did all in their power to make my stay comfortable. They enjoyed a little gossip from the world outside their fjord, and it was interesting to hear them talk in their very pronounced and ancient dialect ("Sognemaal"), which is as unlike modern Norwegian "as she is spoke" as the English of Chaucer's time is to our own modern tongue.
At Styve, the wildest and most impressive part of this narrow fjord, the massive peaks of Steganaase tower overhead, on their tops a crisp powder of new snow—this was at the end of October—and across the fjord rise up perpendicular buttresses of mountains of equal grandeur andawe-inspiring character. The fjord is here about 4,000 feet deep.
At twilight the full moon was just struggling from among wreathing mists which clung around the high peaks, indicating at the same time the presence of showers of fine snow above, and as we proceeded light snow-flakes descended, falling lightly on the steamer's deck.
We were now ploughing through crackling ice, which floated in detached patches on the surface of the water.
In winter-time the fjord from here to the hamlet of Gudvangen is completely frozen over, the steamer being quite unable to proceed farther. The fjord is at that time a highway for sledge traffic to and from the steamer. In this manner the mails are conveyed over the ice to Gudvangen, where other sledges are in waiting to carry them overland to Vossevangen.
Gudvangen is so completely enclosed by huge mountains that the sun's rays do not reach it during four months of winter.The sun lights up some of the nearer tops, however, about mid-day, but then only for about a couple of hours, when all becomes grey again.
In winter and early spring destructive avalanches of snow and rock shoot down with terrible velocity into the fjord and valley from the precipitous mountain masses above, especially when thaw sets in and the heavy mantle of snow is melting.
At one place in particular in Nærödal it will be observed, in driving, that the road threads in and out among huge boulders of rock. These massive stones formed part of a huge avalanche which descended from the crags here only a few years ago. The postman, driving at the time down the valley, only just escaped the danger by taking shelter under a large boulder near the remains of a former avalanche.
Many of the farm-houses in this narrow valley are built under the shelter of rocks, so as to be protected from the wind,which sweeps down the valley at times with terrific velocity, chiefly in winter.
Nærödal
Some years ago I spent two October weeks in Gudvangen and Nærödal. Arriving there overland from Vossevangen, and not dreaming but that I was certain of obtaining accommodation at the inn at Gudvangen—it being considerably past the time of tourists—to my intense surprise, I found the place full to overflowing with country folks in holiday attire—a wedding party—and, to the music of the riddle, the younger peasants and girls were dancing the favourite Halling-fling.
Every room at the inn was crowded, cakes and home-brewed ale being everywhere in evidence.
The kind and genial innkeeper, with profuse apologies at being unable to accommodate me in the house, found me, at last, a little room over the bakehouse close by, which I found fairly comfortable under the circumstances—it was at least warm and dry.
The following morning all was bustleand excitement. In the roadway outside the inn rosy-cheeked peasant-girls, in their prim, bright costumes, were exchanging pleasant banter with the boys, while the older men lounged around in groups, with hands in pockets, engaged in talking gossip at intervals between puffs of tobacco-smoke.
The wedding "bryllups" was to be celebrated that morning, and everybody was now ready except the bride, whose friends were engaged in adding the final touches to her maidenly toilet. A start is soon made, first a kind of informal procession along the short stretch of road to the pier, and a scramble into the boats, then out on the fjord, their oars keeping time to the strains of the fiddle. They row along pleasantly for a couple of miles, and then arrive at the small white wooden church, which is situated picturesquely on a rocky mound at Bakke.
There is, from here to Gudvangen, a footpath, but in parts it is somewhat rough. In several places it crosses screesof loose stories, which repeated avalanches have ground down in their career from the overhanging cliffs above to the deep fjord below. Every winter this mountain path across the screes is wiped out of existence, and a new one has to be made when the spring comes.
The wedding service over, the whole party, the clergyman ("presten") now included, return to the inn to partake of the wedding feast, and to drink the healths ("skaal") of bride and groom. The festivities are prolonged with hearty excitement, eating, drinking, and dancing the Halling-fling and Spring-dance day and night for over a week.
During my stay at Gudvangen at that time, an old woman, short in stature and poorly clad, approached me one day by the roadside, and, carefully unwrapping a many-folded parcel, at length produced a few English coins of silver and bronze. These she had earned during the past summer from passing travellers by the sale of flowers from her little gardenpatch. She begged me to exchange into Norwegian money these coins, which she could not use. It was a pleasure to see her wrinkled face light up with genuine gratitude for this slight service rendered her.
A few days afterwards this same little woman met me again, and gave me a tiny paper packet, which, she said, contained a few four-leaved clover sprigs. These she had taken all day to discover among the scant herbage on the mountain-side, and if I would only take and keep them, I should be lucky ever after. And who shall say that I was not?
Nærödal is one of the grandest valleys in Norway. The narrow ribbon of road threads the deep valley, crossing and recrossing the clear mountain torrent, whose close acquaintance is kept the whole of the distance to the foot of the steep Stalheimskleven.
All the way the stupendous mountain masses seem almost ready to topple over from both sides into the narrow, gorge-likevalley. The high, dome-shaped mountain, which is a conspicuous feature on our right as we proceed, is Jordalsnuten. Eagles, falcons, and other birds of prey inhabit these rugged fastnesses.
Nærödal, from Stalheim, Sogne FjordNærödal, from Stalheim, Sogne Fjord
At an ancient farm at the foot of Jordalsnuten the farmer showed me the feet and powerful claws of a golden eagle. These he had converted into base and pillar for a pair of candlesticks. It had happened on one day during the previous summer, when the farmer's household were engaged in the hay-field, that their work was interrupted by the sight of a large eagle, poised at a height of several hundred feet in the air. From its talons a young sheep was hanging. As they watched they saw that the eagle was gradually descending, although making powerful and frantic efforts to rise. As it neared the ground all hands rushed at once to the spot, and with hay-fork and scythe they attacked and dispatched the powerful bird and saved the sheep. Evidently the weight was rather more thanthe eagle could carry away, and, being unable to extricate its crooked talons from the woolly fleece, it found itself entrapped by its own prey.
The road now gradually ascends the valley, and at the foot of Stalheimskleven it takes sixteen zigzag sweeps up the face of the cliff, which is here about 1,000 feet above the valley. Immediately on the right as we ascend we see a pretty waterfall, Sivlefos, and on the left we get a glimpse of Stalheimsfos. These two fine waterfalls are romantically situated in deep and craggy gullies.
From the summit of the pass we have one of the grandest and most impressive views of the kind in Norway. Looking backward down the sublime Nærödal, the grey, rounded dome of Jordalsnuten rises majestically on the left, its steep sides deeply furrowed by the action of avalanches. The mountain mass on the right is Kaldafjeld, and in the extreme distance we can just distinguish Kilefos, the fine waterfall near to Gudvangen. Atour feet are the two waterfalls we saw on our climb up Stalheimskleven, Sivlefos and Stalheimsfos, foaming in their rocky ravines, their combined waters flowing on in a silver thread along the bottom of the deep valley. So narrow in places is the valley that there appears to be only room for the river and the road.
In the summer months this highway from Vossevangen to Gudvangen, connecting the Hardanger district with that of Sogn, is much used by travellers, and traffic is often greatly congested, especially at the terminus at Gudvangen, where the Sogne Fjord steamers are joined.
We are now among some of the most magnificent scenery in the country, and this grandeur is continued into the impressive Aurlands Fjord, which rivals its neighbour Nærö in sublimity. The huge mass of Bejteln, furrowed with enormous ravines, stands like a sentinel at the junction of the two fjords, with snow-crested Steganaase behind, rearing its mighty peaks to the skies. Huge perpendicularbuttresses wall in the fjord on both sides, and from their tops waterfalls are precipitated in long streaks down the glistening dark rocks, while deep gorges are torn into the mountain forms, separating one immense gable from another.
At the foot of one of these deep gorges, and romantically situated, is the small hamlet and church of Underdal. To the left, farther up the fjord, stands Aurland, or Vangen, the principal village in the fjord parish ("vasbygd") of Aurland. The small stone church here, it will be observed, has an unusually high-pitched gable and steeply sloping roof.
From the head of this Aurlands Fjord, by ascending the Flaamsdal (the valley of the swollen river), magnificent views are obtained out over the fjord.
The road up this grand valley terminates at Myrdal Station, on the new Bergen-Christiania Railway, and near the Hallingdal entrance to the long Gravehalsen tunnel, amid mountain scenery of overwhelming grandeur and sublimity.
At Frönningen a profitable business is done in tree-felling. Large forests of pine and fir clothe the steep sides of the mountains here, and modern saw-mills are erected at the foot of a torrent by the margin of the fjord.
Seen from here, the glaciers of Fresvik and Rambæren, both over 5,000 feet high, stand out boldly against the sky.
A very charming effect of sunshine and shower won my attention near here one afternoon in the month of May. Immediately in front of the steamer, and from the mountains on one side of the fjord to those on the other, stretched a most vivid rainbow; the snow-capped mountains ofLyster were faintly visible beneath the arc, through a misty veil of rain-gauze. As the steamer proceeded the rainbow appeared to retire, so that we were not to sail under the beautifularc-en-cielon that occasion. Instead, we were presently enveloped in driving rain, and to pace the wet and slippery decks was no longer an enjoyable occupation. The mountain-forms were all wiped out by the rain-curtain, and, from a state of comparative calmness, the waters of the fjord became almost as choppy as the open sea.
This condition of the elements did not last long, however. In the space of an hour all was again in brilliant, almost dazzling, sunshine, the rocks and trees on the mountain slopes sparkling with raindrops, and the air became fresh and cool.
It will be observed, as we sail along, that this district is more thickly wooded than almost any other part of Sogn, many of the mountains being quite covered with the dark foliage of pines, even to their summits.
The real forest trees of Norway are the Scotch fir ("furu"), the spruce ("gran"), and hardy birch. These trees grow all over the country, sometimes in unmixed, continuous forests covering large areas, but, generally speaking, they are associated with oak, elm, and ash, in smaller numbers.
In the eastern and southern parts of the country these trees cover the mountain slopes from the bottom of the valleys up to a height of some 2,500 feet above sea-level; at this elevation they are succeeded by hardy forests of birch up to another 1,000 feet; higher than this the shrubs of the mountain plateau—the dwarf birch—only survive.
Small forests are found near the coast in places where they are protected by islands or promontories from the sea winds, but we must go farther inland, and to the heads of the larger fjords, before we can come across any large extent of forest-covered country. The western part of Norway, however, is not remarkable for its forests in comparison with the eastern districts.
Hedemarken Amt (county) has the largest forest area, while Stavanger Amt has the smallest. Of the timber intended for sale, considerable quantities are sent abroad, chiefly spruce and Scotch fir. Birch is found throughout the country, as a rule in company with other trees, and may be seen brightening up the dark coniferous forests with its silver bark and delicate foliage. There are two species of birch—the lowland or white birch, with graceful drooping branches, and the hardy mountain birch, which is rather darker in colour and more stunted in form. It is only in the most northern countries that the "lady of the woods" attains its full beauty. The birch is one of the most useful of trees, the wood being used for a great variety of purposes. The inner bark is used for tanning, and the outer, thicker, bark for the roofs of houses, being placed under the thick covering of turf. The leaves are used as fodder for cattle.
Among other species of trees which grow around the lowland farms andmeadows are found the aspen, whose wood is used in the manufacture of matches, the alder, the rowan and hazel, along with the useful ash. The wood of the last-named is largely used in the making of the "lang ski" (snow-shoes).
Timber-felling usually begins in the late autumn. It is an arduous and ofttimes dangerous occupation, and requires hardy and strong men. As the larger forests lie often at a considerable distance from the inhabited districts, many weeks are spent by these woodmen in log huts specially constructed for the purpose in the vicinity of their work.
The timber, having been felled and stripped of its bark, is collected in convenient places, and when the snow is sufficiently deep, it is then hauled to the nearest river, where it is stacked to await the melting of the snow and ice, when it is floated down the swollen torrent or river, and by this means it is carried down to the lake or fjord and taken to the saw-mills.
Norway in ancient times had a largerarea of forest than it has at the present. In the fourteenth century the Hanseatic League appropriated the commerce of the country. They cut down the forests nearest the coast, also farther inland around the fjord districts, and exported the timber, having at that time considerable commerce with the Dutch, and later—in the seventeenth century—with the English and Scotch.
Forest fires, and the growing consumption of timber, as the population increased, along with reckless felling on the farm lands, have been the means of denuding the west country of the larger forests, thus leaving the mountains comparatively bare and desolate and the plateaux a wilderness.
The State owns very extensive forests, chiefly in the extreme north and east of the country, altogether covering an area of some 2,500 square miles. These forests are under the control of forestry managers, overseers, and rangers. A commercial system has been devised by which theseforests are kept up to their original size and value, State nurseries for the rearing of young trees having been established at several places in the country, the two largest being at Voss and Hamar. Three forestry schools for elementary instruction in the cultivation and treatment of forests, and an agricultural college for advanced instruction in the same, have been founded in recent years.
The mining industry, which commenced activity in the seventeenth century, was responsible for the consumption of very large quantities of timber, and this has been going on for the last 270 years. The Kongsberg silver-mines, which are owned by the State, have alone some fifty square miles of State forest set apart for their requirements. The ore at these mines is virgin silver, occurring in lodes, and it is sometimes found in large nuggets weighing up to 200 pounds. These silver-mines were commenced in the year 1624.
Copper-mining was started at Röros in 1646. The most important copper-mines in the country are the Kongensgrube, Arvedalsgrube, and Storvatsgrube; theore found in them is copper pyrites, and a large quantity is exported. There are also extensive copper-mines at Sulitjelma in Nordland, at Aamdal in Telemarken, and at Valahei in Hardanger.
Owing to the condition of the forests and the consequent rise in the value of charcoal, iron mining has not been very profitable, and many old works have been closed. The Arendal iron-ore mines are the only important mines now worked, and the ore is noted for its excellent quality.
The mining industry
It will thus be seen that the mining industry in Norway is not of very considerable importance, the reason being that, although the country is fairly rich in minerals, the cost of conveyance to the coast is yet too great for much profit to be made.
Those districts which are found to be rich in iron-ore happen to lie in almost inaccessible country, and as coal does not occur except on the out-of-the-way island of Andöen, the native conditions are not favourable for smelting.
In Gudbrandsdal and at several places near Throndhjem soapstone is quarried in considerable quantities, and is now extensively used for building purposes. The cathedral of Throndhjem is built of this stone.
Slate of a beautiful green colour is quarried at Voss and in Valders. Granite, syenite, and porphyry are found in great abundance all over the country.
Minerals which contain rare and beautiful metals and earths occur in several places—at Arendal, for example—and these minerals are highly treasured in all scientific collections.
The village and neighbourhood of Lærdal, or, properly, Lærdalsören, is a notable example of tree-denuded country. Hidden away on a branch of the great Sogne Fjord, and surrounded by bare and massive mountains, Lærdalsören owes its chief, perhaps only, claim to importance from being the chief avenue of traffic to the Sogne Fjord from the land side. Owing to its enclosed situation, the directrays of the sun do not reach the village during some five months of the winter season, being in this respect in a worse position than Gudvangen.
Lærdal
The village of Lærdalsören lies on a broad, flat, well-cultivated plain at the estuary of the river Læra, or the Lærdalselv, an excellent salmon river. The valley through which this river flows is superbly wild and picturesque; the mountains which enclose it are bare, rocky, and desolate. The farther up this valley we go, the wilder becomes the scenery, and the torrent thunders in many a cataract along the base of the ravine-like valley.
LærdalsörenLærdalsören
We may observe in several places huge cauldrons worn out of the solid rock by the action of water, a number of these cauldrons being now far above the present level of the river. We may also see, as we proceed, that the road crosses several ancient lake basins, now dry, the river having, in the course of ages, gradually worn down their rocky barriers, thus draining the water from them.
Some twelve miles drive up this magnificent valley we arrive at a place called Borgund, where stands the quaint and curious "stav kirke" of that name. This extremely interesting and fantastic church was built in the twelfth century, and is in quite the best state of preservation of any church of its kind in the country. It is not now used for Divine service, a new and more commodious church having been built near by, for the better convenience of the inhabitants of the district. This ancient "stavkirke" of Borgund is now the property of the Antiquarian Society of Christiania. Every part of this curious church is of extreme interest—six tiers of pagoda-like, shingle-covered roof, numerous gables from which spring grotesque dragons' heads, and lofty and elaborately carved portals. On the massive door is carved, in runic characters, the following inscription:
"Thorir raist runar thissar than Olaf misso."
(Thorir wrote these lines on the fair of Saint Olaf.)
The church is picturesquely situated in the grandest portion of the ravine-like valley of Lærdal.
To return to the village. In the evening we might enjoy an hour among the clusters of old houses, and down by the boats hear the mellow tone of the dialect of Sogn; or, strolling by the margin of the still fjord, see the first discernible star of evening prick his image like a diamond in the calm water, while all around the great mountains repeat their mighty forms in accurate replica, save where a slight puff of evening air disturbs the reflection in a long streak of silver ripple, dying away as softly as it had begun.
A boat puts out from a tiny creek near by, and silently steals into the line of vision. Only the faintest plash of the oars is heard, and voices perhaps imagined. A line of sparkling light marks out the boat's track across the deep reflections slowly fading away as the boat passes out of sight.
Sailing out of the Bay of Lærdal on abright summer's morning, and all nature being in its blithest mood, we should be dull mortals indeed if we were not touched by some chord in the melody, and rejoice, even with the birds, in the glorious sunshine and the rarified atmosphere.
The morning sun sparkles on the blue fjord, and the delicate haze on the mountains indicates the prelude to a hot day, so we take some little care to place in a shady position our deck-chairs, and any stray whiff of breeze is encouraged and acceptable.
The fjord is still, and, like a mirror, reflects accurately the image of each mountain and crag, tree, and grazing cow. The steamer ploughs along, and the long wash it creates breaks noisily in its rear on cliff base and rocky strand.
We now arrive at the small village, or hamlet, of Aardal, at the head of the branch fjord of the same name. The hamlet is picturesquely situated on an elevation above the shore, and for abackground has an imposing amphitheatre of high mountains.
The grandest waterfall in the Sogn district is in this neighbourhood—the Vettisfos. This waterfall plunges into a deep and awful chasm from a height of some 900 feet. The way to it is romantic and rough, and, to add a spice of flavour to the excursion, the district is a well-known haunt of bears at certain seasons of the year, but not in summer-time.
In the Vettisgjel, a very deep and narrow ravine on the way to the waterfall, destructive avalanches of rock are frequent, especially after winter's thaws or heavy rain.
Lyster Fjord
In Lyster Fjord—the longest arm of the great Sogne Fjord—the scenery is diversified and beautiful, but milder in character than that which we have recently been viewing.
At the head of the fjord, however, the scenery is picturesque and grand, in character somewhat resembling that of theLake of Lucerne, and by many travellers thought to be quite as beautiful.
Skjolden, at the northern extremity of the fjord, is a starting-point for Jötunheimen (the Giant Mountains), the Alps of Norway—the home of giants ("jötun") according to Norse mythology. This wonderful group of mountains is in the very heart of the country, and it is here that the grandest peaks in the whole of Norway are found, Galdhöpiggen, (8,396 feet) and Glittertind (8,380 feet) being the highest.
This uninhabited region of weird grandeur has been considerably opened out to travellers in recent years by the efforts of the Norwegian Tourist Club. Hostels, huts, and "sæters" have been built, roads and tracks improved, safe bridges thrown over inconvenient and dangerous torrents, and the services of trustworthy guides secured at all convenient places in this extensive district; so that for pedestrian expeditions made through this region now, althoughinvolving much rough walking and consequent fatigue, food and accommodation will be found, especially if travellers enrol themselves members of the Norwegian Tourist Club. This ensures them certain privileges, and preference of accommodation over all other travellers who are not members.
In Lyster Fjord we find one of the most beautiful valleys in Sogn—Jostedalen by name. Thickly populated, carefully cultivated, and well watered by the Jostedalselv and its tributaries, this valley is, like most Norwegian valleys, a deep ravine, especially at its head. It divides an extensive plateau of everlasting snow, and here are numerous glaciers, ramifications of the great Jostedalsbræ, the most extensive ice-field in Europe.
The farms and mountain "sæters" in this fertile district are numerous and picturesquely situated. The branch valleys are richly cultivated, and the peasants are, on the whole, in prosperous circumstances.
This beautiful district of Lyster is also noted for its extensive orchards, "Gaard" (farm) Kroken, which is situated at the foot of Krokedalen, being the most famous. Near the farm an extremely fine waterfall 1,400 feet in height leaps from the crags of Kivenaase.
There are several interesting old churches in the district of Lyster—at Dösen, Joranger, and Urnæs.
The latter church stands high on a promontory opposite the village of Solvorn, which is situated in a valley across the fjord.
Urnæs "stavkirke" is considered by antiquarians to be the earliest of the wooden churches now in existence. The eminence on which it stands is some 300 feet above the fjord. The church was built about the year 1100, at the time that Christianity was introduced to this part of the country. This was in King Olaf Kyrre's time, the King who caused many churches to be built in the west country.
Both inside and outside of the church are quaint carvings, which show unmistakable signs of early Irish influence in the design and craftsmanship. On several of the pillars inside the church are writings in runes ("runeskrift"). The church plate and ornaments on the altar are very quaint and ancient.
Urnæs church, Lyster, Sogne FjordUrnæs church, Lyster, Sogne Fjord
Urnæs "stavkirke" stands on the site of a yet earlier erection—a pagan temple, some of the material of which may be traced in the existing building. These pagans had evidently good taste in the choice of a site for their temple.
The view from this place, overlooking the fjord to Solvorn, is very beautiful.
On the promontory below, and near the fjord, stands a giant's "gravhaug," or "kjæmpehaug" (a huge burial mound), where, according to local tradition, the Viking Ragnvald was buried along with his magic sword. There have been "finds" in it dating back to the Bronze Age.
Near this place are several tall standing stones ("bautastein"), which evidentlymark the sites of prehistoric interments. The fjord steamers seldom call here, but across the fjord at Solvorn boats may be hired to row over the short distance, and a few hours might be agreeably spent at this beautiful and interesting place.
The first impression we receive on approaching the fjords from the sea is perhaps not often a pleasant one, especially in dull weather. Monotonous grey rocky islands appear to look with wicked eyes on every ship that passes by them, as though expectant of another victim to embrace in the deep waters, there to be torn and mangled in their cruel fangs. Over these rocks moan everlasting breakers, whose weird dirge-like sound is blended with the wild shrieking of sea-birds till it almost appears that there exists some close uncanny relationship and wicked conspiracy between rocks, birds, and breakers.
The steamer, which gradually threads its way through this maze of coast-islands, now emerges into more open water, and presently we arrive at Florö, an island in the blue sea, bright with houses, warehouses, and shipping. Quite a small town has grown up here, and Floro is now an important calling-place for the larger steamers and a great fishing-station.
In a few hours we come to the large island of Bremanger, on whose eastern end stands the huge towering mass of Hornelen, peaked and furrowed, rising perpendicularly out of the sea, the crags appearing even to overhang the steamer as we sail close to the mountain-wall. Here the heavy surges moan in a most uncanny way, and echo in deep notes up the huge cavernous rents in the mountain-side before us.
According to an ancient tradition, King Olav Trygvesson in the tenth century scaled this many-peaked mountain and rescued one of his followers who had got into danger among the crags.
We are now at the entrance to Nord Fjord, and the steamer seems to make its way towards a towering but distant mass of high mountains, on which we discern large uneven patches of perpetual snow. Gradually, as we advance, the nearer masses of rock appear to part asunder, in order to allow the steamer to pass through.
We come now into the fjord proper, and by degrees a new attraction grows into our interest as we say good-bye to the monotonous; for now we may see fresh and unexpected sights—large bright patches of green, small white wooden churches and clusters of brightly painted cottages dotted here and there—and they one and all appear to extend a smile of welcome to us as we approach. We hear the snow-white mountain becks breaking into waterfalls on every side as they hurry on and plunge themselves gleefully into the sparkling fjord. Graceful birches clothe the valleys and shelter in the rocky clefts in the mountain-sides, while in thebackground are those same snow-topped mountains that we have seen for the last few hours. They are nearer to us now, and as we sail from one side of the fjord to the other, calling to take in or to discharge passengers and goods, these same snow-crowned heights seem to follow us on our way, as if they kept watch and ward over an enchanted land.
We now come to a broader stretch of fjord: larger valleys open out to the view, and the sky seems brighter. This open space crossed, more frequent signs of civilization meet the eye. The farms are larger and the stretches of cultivated land are more extensive.
We now discern hayfields, cornfields, and potato patches. The houses and farmsteads are larger and more substantial, showing that there is a more prosperous people in these inner parts of the fjord.
Frequent waterfalls are passed, some of which send their spray even over the steamer's deck as they leap down the precipitous cliffs. Torrents come with anoisy swing down the steep valleys, turning in their course many a tiny wooden corn-mill.
Everything around seems full of life, and pleasant sounds meet the ear—the murmur of rocky becks, the tinkling of sheep and cattle bells, the plash of busy oars on the clear silvery water—and the merry voices of children are heard as they play on the pebbly strand near by. The eye is refreshed by the sight of the bright cottages which are embosomed in their own little orchards surrounded by green fields, and a background of richly wooded slopes leads up to the blue mountains above and beyond. An ancient church reposing in its quiet domain gives the keynote to the whole—one of harmony, simplicity, and Arcadian peace.
As we gaze on such a scene, it seems to have the power to fascinate and to hold us, as though in the grip of some unseen force of fairy magic, and from which we tear ourselves almost unwillingly away.
The scenery increases in grandeur the farther we penetrate, and the mountains and valleys are more densely wooded. We dip into narrow branches or ramifications of the main fjord, where beautiful vistas open out, and as we sail down Gloppen Fjord to the hamlet of Sandene the views are especially charming.
A salmon river, Stryn, Nord FjordA salmon river, Stryn, Nord Fjord
From Visnæs, at the northern extremity of the innermost branch of the main Nord Fjord, we can drive along the banks of a noted salmon river and visit the beautiful Strynsvand. This lake is quite surrounded by magnificent mountains, on which lie extensive glaciers, Skaalan, on our right, being the most conspicuous. Around this lake are many large farms; some are situated high up the mountains in apparently inaccessible places. Here also wild valleys open out in all directions, and continue their ravines up to the bases of the glaciers. At the foot of one of these ravine-like valleys, and just underneath the massive Skaalan, and in a picturesque situation by thelake's margin, stands the little church of Opstryn.
At Hjelle, at the eastern head of the lake, a fine mountain-road has been engineered, and this traverses the wild and romantic Vide Valley.
The view looking backward from Vide "sæter" is magnificent. The narrow valley is hemmed in by mighty and steep mountain forms, and Stryns Lake, green with glacier water, is seen far below, while across the lake rises the huge mass of Skaalan and its glacier as a background to the picture.
Sincerity, honesty, and freedom from conventional cant are the chief national virtues of the Norwegians, although inquisitiveness is rampant in this district. The outer forms of politeness are often very little observed.
On arriving at an inn, the traveller is seldom welcomed by the host or hostess, and on his departure he may not even then see them. This omission may leave on the traveller the impression of neglect,but it arises partly from the people's national unobtrusiveness and simplicity of character. Also, as the innkeepers are nearly all peasants, and their chief business is farming, this apparent neglect may thus be accounted for, and some allowance be made.