CHAPTER XVII.
TO STOCKHOLM BY GÖTA CANAL.
The Wadstena, in which the absentees had taken passage at Gottenburg, was a small steamer, but very well fitted up for one of her size. Forward was the saloon, in which meals were taken, and saloon passengers slept. Aft was the cabin, on each side of which were state-rooms, called “hütte.” They were not made with regular berths, but had a sofa on each side of the door, on which the beds were made up at night, with a wash-stand between them. Between this cabin and the forward saloon the main deck was raised about three feet, so as to cover the engine and boilers. On each side of this higher deck were more “hütte,” which were the best rooms on board. The hurricane-deck, over the after cabin, was the favorite resort of the passengers.
It was two o’clock in the morning, and the independent excursionists were tired and sleepy. They had taken first-class tickets, and two of them had been assigned to each “hütte.” As soon as they went on board, therefore, they retired, and most of them slept, in spite of the fleas and other vermin that revelled in their banquet of blood. None but very tired boys could have slumbered under such unfavorable circumstances, and it is a great pity that a steamer otherwise so neat and comfortable should be given up to the dominion of these sleep-destroying insects.
At seven the party turned out, anxious to see the scenery on the banks of the canal. The steamer was still in the river, a stream not more than a hundred and fifty feet wide, with occasional rapids, which are passed by canals, with locks in them. The scenery was pleasant, with rocky hills on each side. Schooners and other craft were continually met, loaded with lumber and other articles from the lakes. The scene was novel and interesting, and though the boys gaped fearfully, they enjoyed the view.
Presently one of the women, who do all the work of stewards and waiters, appeared with coffee on deck, passing the cups to the passengers first, and then filling them. The coffee was delicious, served with the whitest of sugar and the richest of cream, with some little biscuits. It waked the boys up, and seemed to make new beings of them.
“How’s this, Sanford?” said Scott.
“First rate! That’s the best coffee I ever drank in my life,” replied the coxswain.
“Is it a free blow?”
“I don’t know. How is it, Ole?”
“No; you pay at the end of the trip for all you have had,” replied the waif.
“But who keeps the account?” asked Scott.
“Nobody,” laughed Ole. “On the boats from Christiania every passenger tells what he has had, and pays for it.”
“Do they think everybody is honest?”
“Certainly; everybody is honest.”
“Not much,” added Sanford, shaking his head. “Of course you don’t pretend to be honest, Norway.”
“But I do.”
“You didn’t take a sovereign from me, and another from Burchmore—did you?”
“I take what you give me.”
“It may be honest, but I don’t see it in that light, Norway.”
“Never mind that now, Sanford,” interposed Burchmore. “He sold out the last time for the public good.”
“Do you expect to find the ship in Stockholm when we get there?” asked Scott.
“Of course I do,” replied Sanford. “We shall not get there till Tuesday.”
“Then our cruise is almost ended.”
“I suppose so. I have been trying hard to join the ship ever since we left her at Christiansand,” continued the coxswain, solemnly.
“Over the left,” chuckled Scott.
“Honor bright! I don’t believe in running away.”
“Nor I; but Laybold and I have put our foot into it. I suppose we shall have to spend a week in the brig, and make love to Peaks while the rest of the fellows are seeing Russia.”
“You will find some way to get out of the scrape.”
“I don’t know. We have lost Copenhagen and Denmark already, and I suppose we shall not see much of Russia.”
“We will help you out.”
“I don’t think you can do it,” added Scott, who had evidently come to the conclusion that running away “did not pay.”
The steamer stopped, and the captain informed the party that passengers usually walked three miles around the series of locks, by which they were enabled to see the Falls of Trollhätten. The carrying of the canal around these falls was the most difficult problem in engineering in the construction of the work. It is cut through the solid rock, and contains sixteen locks. The passage of the steamer occupies an hour and a half, which affords ample time for the voyagers to see the falls. The party immediately landed, and were promptly beset by a dozen ragged boys, who desired to act as guides, where no such persons are needed. Not one of them spoke a word of English; but they led the way to the path, each one selecting his own victims, and trusting to the magnanimity of the passengers for their pay. A walk, covered with saw-dust, has been made by some public-spirited persons, and the excursion is a very pleasant one.
The entire fall of the river is one hundred and twelve feet; but it is made in four principal cataracts, and three smaller ones. The scenery in the vicinity is rather picturesque, and at one point the path goes through a grove, on the banks of a rivulet, where the water dashes over large cobble-stones, with an occasional pretty cascade. The walk leads to various eligible spots for examining the falls and the rapids. On the way, the tourist passes Kungsgrottan, or King’s Grotto. It is a hole in the solid rock, in the shape of half a globe, on the sides of which are inscribed the names of the various sovereigns of Sweden, and other distinguished persons who have visited the spot. Near the village of Trollhätten, which contains several founderies and saw-mills, the finest part of the falls is seen by crossing an iron foot-bridge, at the gate of which stands a woman, who collects a toll of fifty öre for the passage to the little island.
“I don’t think much of these falls,” said Scott, as he returned from the island.
“I think they are rather fine,” replied Laybold.
“You could cut up the rapids of Niagara into about two hundred just such falls, to say nothing of the big cataract itself,” added Scott. “It is pleasant, this walk along the river, but you can’t call the Falls of Trollhätten a big thing.”
“Of course they don’t compare with Niagara.”
“Certainly not.”
The party walked through the yards of the manufactories, and came to a small hotel on the bank of the canal. The place looked very much like many American villages. The canal steamer did not appear for half an hour, and some of the boys strolled about the place. The regiment of ragged boys who had followed the tourists, or led the way, pointing out the various falls and other points of interest in an unknown tongue, begged lustily for the payment for their services. One of them, who had taken Scott and Laybold under his protection, was particularly urgent in his demands.
“Not a red, my hearty,” replied Scott. “I didn’t engage you, and I shall not pay you.”
The boy still held out his hand, and said something which no one of the party could understand.
“Exactly so,” replied Scott. “You told me the names of all the places, but I did not understand a word you said. I say, my lad, when did you escape from the rag-bag?”
The boy uttered a few words in Swedish.
“Is that so?”
The boy spoke again.
“Stick to it, my hearty; but I don’t believe a word of it.”
“What does he say, Scott?”
“He says the moon is made of green cheese. Didn’t you, my lad?”
The boy nodded, and spoke again.
“It is a hard case, Young Sweden; but I can’t do anything for you.”
“What’s a hard case, Scott?” asked Laybold.
“Why, he says he has six fathers and five mothers, and he has to support them all by guiding tourists round the falls.”
“Get out!”
“I am afraid they don’t have roast beef for dinner every day.”
“Here’s the steamer,” added Laybold.
The boy became more importunate as the time came to go on board, but Scott was obstinate.
“Now, out of my way, my lad. Give my regards to your six fathers and five mothers, and I’ll remember you in my will; but I won’t give you a solitary red now, because I don’t like the principle of the thing. I didn’t employ you, and I didn’t want you. I told you so, and shook my head at you, and told you to get behind me, Satan, and all that sort of thing; and now I’m not going to pay you for making a nuisance of yourself. On the naked question of charity, I could do something for you, on account of your numerous fathers and mothers. As it is, good by, Sweden;” and Scott went on board of the steamer.
The boat started again, and soon the bell rang for breakfast. The boys hastened to the forward saloon, where they found two tables spread. At a sideboard was the Swedish lunch, or snack, of herring, sliced salmon, various little fishes, sausage, and similar delicacies, with the universal decanter of “finkel,” flanked with a circle of wine glasses. The tourists partook of the eatables, but most of them were wise enough to avoid the drinkable. The Swedish bread, which is a great brown cracker, about seven inches in diameter, was considered very palatable. Ordinary white bread is served on steamers and at hotels, and also a dark-colored bread, which looks like rye, and is generally too sour for the taste of a foreigner. The breakfast at the tables consisted of fried veal, and fish, with vegetables, and all the elements of the snack. When the boys had finished, one of the women handed Scott a long narrow blank book.
“Thank you, marm; I am much obliged to you,” said he. “Will you have the kindness to inform me what this is for?”
The woman laughed, and answered him in her native tongue.
“Precisely so,” added Scott.
“What does she say?” asked Sanford.
“She wants me to write a love letter in this book to her; but as she is rather ancient, I shall decline in your favor, Sanford.”
“Don’t do it, old fellow! Face the music.”
“Not for Joseph!”
“What did she say, Ole?” inquired Sanford.
“She said you were to keep your account in that book,” replied the interpreter.
“Are we to keep our own reckoning?”
“Yes; every one puts down in this book what he has had.”
“That means you, Burchmore. You are the cashier for the party.”
“How many fellows had coffee this morning?” asked the cashier, as he took the book.
“All of them, of course.”
Burchmore made the entries for the coffee and the breakfasts of the whole party.
“Well, that’s one way to do the thing,” said Scott. “Every man his own book-keeper. I’ll bet everybody doesn’t charge what he has had.”
Ole was requested to ask the woman about the matter. She said the Swedes were honest, but the waiters were required to see that everybody paid for what he had had before leaving the steamer. The having of this book is certainly a better plan than that of the Norwegian steamers, by which the passenger, if he means to be honest, is compelled to recollect all he has had in a passage of thirty hours.
The Wadstena continued on her course through a rather flat country, just coming into the greenness and beauty of the spring time, till she came to Wenersberg, a town of five thousand inhabitants, which is largely engaged in the lumber and iron trade. The boat stopped there a short time, and the party had an opportunity to examine the lake craft at the wharves; but, after seeing them, it was difficult to believe they were not in some New England coast town. The steamers, however, were very different, all of them being very short, to enable them to pass through the locks in the canal, and most of them having the hurricane deck forward and aft, to afford sufficient space for the cabins. All of them were propellers.
The Wadstena started again, the bridges opening to permit her passage. The great Wenern Lake lay before them, which is the third in size in Europe, Onega and Ladoga alone exceeding it in extent. It is about a hundred miles long by fifty in breadth, very irregular in shape, and portions of it are densely crowded with islands. Its greatest depth is three hundred and sixty feet near the Island of Lurö, but a considerable part of it is very shallow, and difficult of navigation. It is one hundred and forty-five feet above the level of the Baltic. Thirty rivers flow into it, and sometimes cause it to rise ten feet above its ordinary level. But the Göta River is its only outlet, and is always supplied with an abundant volume of water. The wind was fresh when the Wadstena steamed out upon the broad expanse, and the lake had a decidedly stormy aspect.
“Will you be seasick?” asked the captain, as the little steamer began to bob up and down with a very uncomfortable jerk.
“Seasick!” laughed Scott. “We are all sailors, sir, and we don’t intend to cave in on a fresh-water pond.”
“But the lake is very rough to-day.”
“If your little tub can stand it, captain, we can.”
“I am very glad, for some people are very sick on this part of the passage. It is sometimes very bad, the worst we have in the whole trip.”
“How long are we on the lake?” asked Scott.
“About seven hours; but not all of it is so bad as this. We go among the islands by and by.”
Doubtless the Wenern Lake fully maintained its reputation on the present occasion, though none of the young salts were sick. The boat stood to the northward, and the short steamer and the short chop sea would have made the passage very trying to landsmen. Nothing but the distant shores were to be seen, and the monotony of the passage was the only disagreeable circumstance to our tourists. For the want of something better to do, they went below, and, lying down on the sofas in their state-rooms, went to sleep without much difficulty, for the red-backs and fleas kept shady in the daytime. The boys were accustomed to being “rocked in the cradle of the deep;” but at the expiration of three hours, the heavy motion ceased, and the change waked them. Going on the hurricane deck again, they found the steamer was among the islands, which were generally low, rocky, and covered with firs and pines. A crooked channel was carefully buoyed off, and the boat was threading its tortuous way with no little difficulty.
Presently the Wadstena made a landing at a rude pier on an island where only a rough shanty was in sight. Several row-boats at the wharf indicated that passengers came to this station from other islands. Again the steamer went out upon the open lake, and soon after entered another group of islands, among which she made a landing at a small town. Passing over another open space, the entrance to the canal was discovered, marked by two low light-houses, in the form of the frustum of a pyramid. As the Wadstena entered a lock, the captain told the party they might take a walk if they pleased, as there were several locks to pass in the next three miles. This was a grateful relief to the voyagers, and they gladly availed themselves of the opportunity. The country was a dead level, with an occasional small farm-house, and with many groves and forests. But the walk was interesting, and the boys would gladly have continued it longer; but at the last lock of the series, the gate-man told them, through Ole, that they must wait here in order to go on board, for the steamer could not make a landing again for several miles. The party remained on the hurricane deck till the cold and the darkness drove them below. Turning in at an early hour, they slept as well as the vermin would allow, until six o’clock the next morning, when the steamer was approaching the Wettern Lake, the second in size in Sweden. The boat was on a broad arm of the lake, called the Viken, for the canal is built only across the narrowest section of country, between two natural bodies of water.
The Wettern Lake is ninety miles long and fifteen miles wide, surrounded by hills, from which sudden gusts of wind come, producing violent squalls on the water. This lake is noted for big trout. After crossing the Wettern, the steamer approached Wadstena, which contains an ancient church and convent, and a castle built by Gustavus Vasa, and often occupied by his family. Ten miles farther brought the steamer to Motala, which contains several iron founderies and manufactories. Many iron steamers and steam engines are built at this place. The scenery on this portion of the canal is very beautiful, though not grand. Going through another portion of the artificial canal, the boat enters the Roxen Lake, perhaps the most beautiful in Sweden, and makes a landing at Linköping. There are half a dozen towns with this termination in the country, as Norrköping, Söderköping, Jönköping, the last two syllables being pronounced like chepping; as, Lin-chep-ping.
Leaving the Roxen Lake, the steamer passes through more canals into an arm of the Baltic, and then into the sea itself, voyaging among a thousand small islands, stopping at Söderköping and Nyköping, important commercial and manufacturing towns. Night came, and our tourists did not stay up to see the lights on the way. The steamer leaves the Baltic, and passing another piece of canal, enters the waters of the Mäler Lake, seventy-five miles long, and containing fourteen hundred islands. The boys were up in season to see the beauties of this lake. Many of the islands rise to a considerable height above the water, and are so thick that one hardly believes he is sailing on a large lake. For quiet beauty and “eternal stillness,” the Mäler can hardly be surpassed. In the middle of the forenoon, the spires of Stockholm were to be seen, and the tourists were all attention. From the lake the city presents a fine appearance. Indeed, Stockholm, seen from either of its water approaches, is hardly excelled in beauty by any city in Europe.
The Wadstena made her landing at the Island of Riddarholm. As the party were not burdened with any baggage, they decided to walk to the hotel. Ole inquired the way to the Hotel Rydberg, where they had agreed to go; and crossing a bridge to the largest of the three islands of the city, called Stadeholm, they arrived at the palace, beyond which is the quay. Between this island and the main land, on which the greater portion of the town is built, is the passage from the Baltic to the Mäler Lake, and in the middle of it is the Island of Helgeandsholm, or Holy Ghost’s Island, with two bridges connecting it with either side. On it are the king’s stables, and a semicircular garden, improved as a café, with a handsome face wall on the water side.
“This isn’t bad,” said Scott, as the party paused to look down into the garden.
“Not at all,” replied Sanford. “I suppose they have music here in the evening, and it would be a capital place to loaf.”
“See the steamers!” exclaimed Laybold, as a couple of the miniature craft, which abound in the waters of Stockholm, whisked up to the quay.
“A fellow could put half a dozen of them into his trousers pocket,” laughed Scott. “We must go on a cruise in some of them, as soon as we get settled.”
“Well, where’s the hotel?” asked Sanford.
It was in plain sight from the bridge, which they crossed to the Square of Gustavus Adolphus, on which the hotel faced.
“Good morning, young gentlemen. I am happy to see you,” said Mr. Blaine, the head steward of the ship, who was the first person to greet them as they entered the hotel.
“Ah, Mr. Blaine!” exclaimed Sanford, his face glowing with apparent satisfaction. “I am delighted to see you; for I was afraid we should never find the ship.”
“Were you, indeed? Well, I had the same fear myself. I have been looking for you ever since the ship sailed.”
“We have done our best to find the ship, Mr. Blaine,” added Sanford.
“O, of course you have; but of course, as you didn’t find her, you were not so babyish as to sit down and cry about it.”
“Certainly not; still we were very anxious to find her.”
“Mr. Peaks says you came down from Christiania before he did.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you were so anxious to find the ship, that you took a train to the interior of the country, expecting, no doubt, to come across her on some hill, or possibly on some of these inland lakes,” continued Mr. Blaine.
“We were looking for the ship’s company. We met Scott and Laybold, who were going into the interior, and we concluded to join them, as they wanted to find their shipmates,” replied Sanford, who was now not entirely confident that “the independent excursion without running away” was a success.
“Ah! so you have picked up those two young gentlemen, who ran away,” added the head steward, glancing at Scott and Laybold.
“Not exactly, sir; they picked us up,” answered the coxswain.
“I think it was a mutual picking up, and we picked each other up,” laughed Scott. “We knew that Sanford and his crew were extremely anxious to find the ship’s company, and if we joined them we should be sure to come out right.”
“Exactly so,” laughed Mr. Blaine. “Let me see; after our first day’s run on shore, by some mistake you neglected to come on board at night, with the others.”
“That was the case exactly. The fact is, we were too drunk to go on board with the others.”
“Drunk!” exclaimed Mr. Blaine.
“Such was our melancholy condition, sir,” added Scott, shaking his head. “We were invited, in a restaurant, to drink ‘finkel,’ and not knowing what finkel was, we did drink; and it boozed us exceedingly.”
“You are very honest about it, Scott.”
“We are about everything, sir. We slept at a hotel, and when we went down to the wharf to go on board, we learned that the ship’s company had gone to Trolldoldiddledy Falls. As we felt pretty well, we thought we would take a train, see a little of the inside of Sweden, and meet the ship’s company at Squozzlebogchepping.”
“Where’s that?” asked Mr. Blaine.
“I can’t give you the latitude and longitude of the jaw-breaker, but it was at the junction of the two railways, where the party came down from the canal. We were sure we should find our fellows there, but the Swedish figures bothered us, and we made a mistake in the hour the train was due.”
“But the Swedish figures are the same as ours,” suggested the head steward.
“Are they? Well, I don’t know what the matter was, except that we were five minutes too late for the train. That’s what’s the matter.”
“How very unfortunate it was you lost that train!”
“It was, indeed; I couldn’t have felt any worse if I had lost my great-grandmother, who died fifty years before I was born. These honest fellows felt bad, too.”
“Of course they did.”
“We took the next train to Gottenburg; but when we arrived, the ship had sailed for Copenhagen, which I was more anxious to see than any other place in Northern Europe.”
“And for that reason you came on to Stockholm.”
“No, sir; you are too fast, Mr. Blaine. Your consequent does not agree with the antecedent. There was no steamer for Copenhagen for a couple of days.”
“There was a steamer within an hour after you reached Gottenburg in that train, and an hour before the sailing of the canal steamer; and Mr. Peaks went down in her,” said Mr. Blaine.
“We didn’t know it.”
“Certainly you did not.”
“We knew of no steamer till Monday, and we were afraid, if we went in her, that we should be too late to join the ship in Copenhagen; and with heroic self-denial, we abandoned our fondly-cherished hope of seeing the capital of Denmark, and hastened on to Stockholm, so as to be sure and not miss the ship again. These honest fellows,” said Scott, pointing to Sanford and his companions, “agreed with us that this was the only safe course to take.”
“I see that you struggled very violently to join your ship, and I only wonder that such superhuman efforts should have failed.”
“They have not failed, sir,” protested Scott. “The ship will come here, and we will join her then, or perish in the attempt.”
“Are you not afraid some untoward event will defeat your honest intentions?”
“If they are defeated it will not be our fault.”
“No, I suppose not; but whom have you there?” inquired the head steward, for the first time observing Ole, who had pressed forward to hear Scott’s remarks. “Ole?”
“Yes, sir; that’s the valiant Ole, of Norway,” replied the joker.
His presence was satisfactorily explained by the coxswain.
“Why did you desire to leave the ship, Ole? Didn’t we use you well?” asked Mr. Blaine.
“Very well indeed, sir; but I was bashful, and did not wish to see some people in Christiansand,” replied the waif.
“What people?”
Ole evaded all inquiries, as he had a dozen times before, and declined to explain anything relating to his past history. Mr. Blaine said he had heard the party had taken the canal steamer, and he immediately proceeded to Stockholm by railroad. He at once telegraphed to Mr. Lowington at Copenhagen, that he had found all the absentees, and asked for instructions.
“Here’s a go, and the game is up,” said Sanford, in a whisper, when he met Stockwell alone.
“That’s so; what will he do with us?”
“I don’t know; I rather like this mode of travelling. But we are caught now.”
“Perhaps not; we may find some way out of it. According to Blaine’s cue we are to be regarded as runaways. If that is the case, I don’t join the ship this summer,” said Stockwell, very decidedly.
“Nor I either,” added Sanford.
Before dark, Mr. Blaine received a despatch from the principal, directing him to take the next train to Malmö, which is the town in Sweden opposite Copenhagen. The head steward did not communicate its contents to his charge that night, but he called all of them at four o’clock the next morning, and by good management on his part, they were on the train which left Stockholm at six o’clock. At Katherineholm, where the party ate an excellent breakfast, Mr. Blaine unhappily missed three of his company.