"Out there the Vikings sailed away to new lands," said Erik, who was never weary of dreaming about the heroes of the old sagas.
"Hurry up, children," called Mrs. Lund. "We have too much before us to see, to spend time looking back."
Through the entrance gate, they passed into a grove of pines and birches, with winding roads. Among the trees were many wild animals in pens, and queer houses and buildings, such as the children had never seen in the city or at grandmother's. Every few steps, they met a soldier with a helmet and shield, or a brightly dressed peasant. You would think you had come to a foreign country, and so did Sigrid.
As they turned a bend in the road, they saw a low cottage of hewn timber. It was painted red and had a hood over the door. In the yard was a wagon that might have been made by sawing a huge wooden cask from top to bottom, and then placing one half on wheels.
"I never saw such a funny cart," said Anders.
"It is odd," replied his father. "A long time ago, people used to ride in a wagon like that. Suppose we go over and look at that house."
"You don't know the people who live there, do you, father?" enquired Sigrid.
"No, my daughter," he replied. "But all these people are accustomed to visitors. You see, a few years ago, there lived a wise man named Artur Hazelius, who loved his country very dearly. He travelled from the fjelds and glaciers where the Lapps live to the fertile fields of Skäne, in the south.
"Something troubled him very much. He cared a great deal for the queer old homes which he saw in out-of-the-way villages. No one makes such houses to-day. He knew they would soon be destroyed. Then he was sorry that only a few peasants still wear their old gay costumes.
"So he said to himself, 'I will go to the king and ask him to give me a large park. There I will fetch some of these houses. Our children will not have to read in books about the way their great-grandfathers lived. They shall visit the very houses they lived in.'"