"Don't let the Botaniker go off by himself. We shall never find him, and our time is getting short."
And then they went to the other little hut where the cheese was being made. There were two large open caldrons over the great stone-oven, and two pretty young saeter-girls (saeter-jenter) were busily stirring the contents of the caldrons. They told Gerda that one caldron contained cream and the other milk, from which the cheese had first been taken by mixing it with yeast. And the pigs got the rejected cheese. Then the two liquids were heated slowly for about four hours, being stirred unceasingly, and when they were on the verge of boiling, they were mixed together. Meantime they both looked and tasted like toffee, and smelt like toffee too.
"And now you have seen the true and only Mysost, mine Damer og Herrer," said the Sorenskriver dramatically. "Now you know the two secrets of Norwegian greatness—the Mountains and the Mysost!"
And he half meant it, too, although he laughed. And the old saeter-woman quite meant it.
"Ja, ja," she said proudly, and inclined her head with true Norwegian dignity.
Then they packed up and paid. The paying was not quite an easy matter. The old saeter-woman made no fixed charge, and appeared not to want to take any money. The Sorenskriver had a twinkle in his eye when he settled up. He knew that, in accordance with Norwegian peasant etiquette, she would appear to be indifferent to the money, accept it reluctantly, and then probably not consider it enough! However, he managed this delicate task with great skill, and began to arrange for returning to the Solli Gaard. But none of the company were anxious to be off. They lingered about, strolling, talking, laughing. The French artist was making a small water-colour of the picturesque interior of the stue. And he wanted to come with them too, if they could wait a little. The old saeter-woman gave Katharine a large cow-bell.
"It has rung on these mountains a hundred years and more," she said. "Thou shalt have it. It is for thee, stakkar. I like thee. Thou art beautiful and kind. It is a pity thou art not that Englishman's wife."
She beckoned to Gerda to come and translate her words, and the three women laughed together. Gerda said in a whisper:
"It is a good thing that the Kemiker is out of the way. He would be astonished, wouldn't he? I don't think love is much in his line, is it? Why, he is less human even than my poor Ejnar—if indeed such a thing is possible!"
But Katharine stooped down and kissed the old saeter-woman.