Our journey now led through a series of small and pretty lakes, connected by canals with many locks, whose course is descending, as Lake Vettern, which we had just left, lies three hundred feet above the Baltic. While the “Venus” was passing through the locks, we walked on the banks of the “raging canal,” a merry party, the Viennese lady acting as chaperon. We were wholly misled as to time by the long lingering twilight, and only turned back when we discovered it was fast approaching midnight; finding the “Venus” in a lock we went aboard to disturbed slumbers, as she passed most of the night in going through locks, and in receiving a liberal supply of bumps.
When we went on deck in the morning we seemed to be in the midst of a deep forest, the canal being like a path through the woods, the branches of the trees meeting above our heads. Later we came out among small rocky islands, where we appeared to be completely shut in, and it was difficult to divine which course the steamer would take, until a sudden turn disclosed an egress. Farther on the course is partly on the open Baltic, and partly among the great ledges of rock flanking the coast, where the intricate navigation requires the utmost skill of the pilot, until we enter the canal connecting the Baltic with Lake Mälar.
While stopping at a little village, women and children gathered around the steamer with baskets filled with kringlor (ring-shaped cakes) and pepperkakor (gingerbread), specialties of the place, and as they were well patronized everyone was soon munching from a paper bag.
Lake Mälar has twelve hundred islands, and is similar in scenery to the beautiful region of the Thousand Islands of the St. Lawrence river. We now enter upon the most interesting part of our journey. As we proceed down the lake towards Stockholm, we pass an island called the King’s Hat, from a rock surmounted by a pole bearing a large iron hat, to commemorate the tradition that Olaf Haraldssön, a Norwegian king, when pursued by a king of Sweden, sprang with his horse from the cliff into the lake and escaped, leaving his hat behind. On the islands are villas and country houses, their summer residents gracing the lawns and rocks; from concert gardens, gay with flags, festoons, and colored globes, float strains of music across the water, while numerous pleasure steamers and gay boating parties, going from island to island, enliven the scene.
Down the lake, first a lofty spire, then several towers, come into view. What appears in the distance like a cloud of smoke floating above the houses on each side of a tall tower, we discover on approaching nearer to be a network of telephone wires, stretching above the roofs, converging to the immense standard tower above the central office. Now we have a striking view of Stockholm, rising on islands and cliffs from the lake, with its harbor and quays full of shipping, and the palace and church towers standing out prominently.
We say farewell to the officers of the “Venus,” all of whom speak excellent English and have done their utmost to make our voyage pleasant; the school girls flutter into the arms of their parents and friends awaiting on the quay, and our little company of travellers proceed to the same hotel, leaving the “Venus” with most pleasant recollections of our journey across Sweden.
IN AND ABOUT STOCKHOLM.