Considering that this place is so near such an enormous tract of snow and ice as the Folgefond, it is rather astonishing to find that it will grow cherries, apples, and corn, better than most places around.

I make a point in all these spots of examining any printed notice that I may come across, as being likely to throw light on the country and its institutions. Here, for instance, is a Government ordinance of 1855, about the Fante-folk, otherwise Tatere, or gipsies. From this I learn that some fifteen hundred of these Bedouins are moving about the kingdom, with children, who, like themselves, have never had Christian baptism or Christian instruction. They are herewith invited to settle down, and the Government promises to afford them help for this purpose; otherwise they shall still be called “gipsies,” and persecuted in various ways.

CHAPTER XI.

From Fairy lore to Nature lore—Charming idea for stout folk—Action and reaction—Election day at Bergen—A laxstie—A careless pilot—Discourse about opera-glasses—Paulsen Vellavik and the bears—The natural character of bears—Poor Bruin in a dilemma—An intelligent Polar bear—Family plate—What is fame?—A simple Simon—Limestone fantasia—The paradise of botanists—Strength and beauty knit together—Mountain hay-making—A garden in the wilderness—Footprints of a celebrated botanist—Crevasses—Dutiful snow streams—Swerre’s sok—The Rachels of Eternity—A Cockney’s dream of desolation—Curds and whey—The setting in of misfortunes—Author’s powder-flask has a cold bath—The shadows of the mountains—The blind leading the blind—On into the night—The old familiar music—Holloa—Welcome intelligence.

From Utne I take boat for a spot called Ose, in a secluded arm of the Fjord. My boatman, an intelligent fellow, tells me that Asbjörnsen, the author of a book of Fairy Tales, is now, like Mr. Kingsley, turned naturalist, and has been dredging with a skrabe (scraper) about here. He has discovered one small mussel, and a new kind of star-fish, with twelve rays about twelve inches long, body about the size of a crown-piece, and the whole of a bright red. The rays are remarkably brittle. This I afterwards saw in the Museum at Bergen. Asbjörnsen is an exceedingly stout man, and very fat, and the simple country-people have the idea, therefore, that he must be very rich. Wealth and fatness they believe must go together.

The wind, which had all the morning been blowing from the land, as the afternoon advances veers round, like the Bise of the Mediterranean, and thus becomes in our favour. I now see the reason why the men would not start till the afternoon. In fine weather, the wind almost invariably blows from the sea after mid-day, and from the mountain in the morning; and, in illustration of the law that action and reaction are always equal and contrary, the stronger it blows out, the stronger it blows in. Tit for tat.

Erik, who is very communicative, says, “This is our election day at Bergen for South Bergen-Stift. We don’t choose directly; every hundred men elect one; and this College of Voters elects the Storthing’s-man. Mr. H——, the clergyman, is one of the sitting members.”

“Has every male adult a vote?”