When the major saw that Christian was really annoyed at being obliged to draw lots, he persuaded his companions to give him the first chance, as a favor, as they had intended. But, in the meanwhile, he went up to the danneman, and said to him, in his own language:
“Friend, since in your character of guide you are to go in advance with our dear Christian, keep close to him, I implore you. It is his first trial.”
The Dalecarlian was greatly surprised, and could not understand, at first, what the major meant; he made him repeat the warning, and then, looking at Christian attentively, shook his head.
“He is a handsome young man,” he said, “and he has a good heart, I am sure! He ate my kakebroe as if he had never done anything else all his life; he has Dalecarlian teeth, and yet, it seems, he is a stranger! He pleases me. I am sorry that he cannot talk Dalecarlian with me, and still more sorry that he is going where those more skilful than either he or myself have remained.”
The kakebroe, to which the danneman referred, was neither more nor less than the ordinary bread of the country, which was made of rye, oats, and pounded bark. The pulverized birch-bark, which was one of its ingredients, made it very hard, even when fresh; and as no one cooks in this country more than twice a year at the most, it becomes, when dry and stale, a sort of flat stone, which strangers find very difficult to masticate. The saying of the Danish bishop who marched against the Dalecarlians in the time of Gustavus Wasa, is historical: “The devil himself cannot get the better of people who eat wood!”
As the danneman, in spite of his enthusiasm for the heroic mastication of his stranger guest, did not seem able to answer for his safety, Larrson’s anxiety was renewed, and he again attempted to dissuade Christian. The danneman interrupted him by begging every one to go out, except the stranger. They guessed his intention, and Larrson explained it to Christian.
“You will have to go through some cabalistic initiation,” he said; “I told you that our peasants believe in all sorts of influences and mysterious divinities; I see that the danneman will not guide you to his bear with any confidence, until he has rendered you invulnerable by a formula or talisman of some sort. Will you consent?”
“To be sure I will!” cried Christian; “whatever informs me of the peculiarities of the manners and customs of a people, I welcome with all my heart. Leave me alone with the danneman, dear major, and, if he shows me the devil, I promise to describe him to you exactly.”
When the danneman was tête-à-tête with his guest, he took his hand, and said in Swedish:
“Don’t be afraid!”