“How I pity the countries that have no glorious mountains!” cried Frolich; “especially if few of their people live in sight of the vast sea, or in the heart of deep forests.”
And, by one impulse, they all struck up the national air “For Norgé,”—a thanksgiving for their home being planted in the midst of the northern seas.
All being done now for which a strong arm was wanted, Rolf declared that he and Jan must be gone to the farm. Not a man could be spared from the shores of the fiord, till the affairs of the pirates should be settled. Erica ought to have expected to hear this: but her cheek grew white as it was told. She spoke no word of objection, however, seeing plainly what her lover’s duty was.
She turned towards the dairy when he was gone, instead of indulging herself with watching him down the mountain. She was busy skimming bowl after bowl of rich milk, when Frolich ran in to say that Stiorna had dressed herself, and put up her bundle, and was setting forth homewards, to see, as she said, the truth of things there;—which meant, of course, to learn Hund’s condition and prospects. It was now necessary to tell her that she would presently see Hund brought up to the seater a prisoner: and that the farm was no place for any but fighting-men this day. To save her feelings and temper, Erica asked her to watch the herd, leading them to a point whence she could soonest see the expected company mounting the uplands.
Frolich shook her head often and mournfully over the breakfast. The skill and diligent hands of two people could not, up in the clouds here, cover the long table in a way which appeared at all creditable to Nordland eyes. Do what they would, it was only bread, cheese, butter, berries, and cream: and then berries and cream, butter, cheese, and bread. They garnished with moss, leaves, and flowers; they disposed their few bowls and platters to the best advantage,—taking some from the dairy which could ill be spared. It was still but a poor apology for a feast; and Frolich looked so ready to cry as to make Erica laugh.
Presently, however, there were voices heard from the hill above. Some traveller who had met the budstick had reported the proceedings below, and the news had spread to a northern seater. The men had gone down to the fiord and here were the women, with above a gallon of strawberries, fresh gathered, and a score of plovers’ eggs.—Next appeared a pony, coming westward over the pasture, laden with panniers containing a tender kid, a packet of spices, a jar of preserved cherries, and a few of the present season, early ripe; and a stone bottle of ant-vinegar (Note 1). Frolich’s spirits rose higher and higher, as more people came from below, sent by Rolf on his way down. A deputation of Lapps came from the tents, bringing reindeer venison, and half of a fine Gammel cheese. Before Erica had had time to pour out a glass of corn-brandy for each of this dwarfish party, in token of thanks, and because it is considered unlucky to send away Lapps without a a treat, other mountain dwellers came with offerings of tydder, roer, ryper, and jerper (Note 2): so that the dresser was loaded with game enough to feed half a hundred hungry men.
Some of these willing neighbours stayed to help. One went to pick more cloud-berries on the edge of the nearest bog. Another rode off, on the pony, to beg a supply of sugar from a house where it was known to abound. Two or three more cleared a space for a fire behind a thicket, and prepared to broil the venison and stew the kid, while others sat down to pluck the game. The Lapps, as being dirty and despised, were got rid of as soon as possible.
Erica and Frolich returned to their breakfast-table, to make the new arrangements now necessary, and place the fruits and spices. Erica closely examined the piece of Gammel cheese brought by the Lapps, and then, with glowing cheeks, called Frolich to her.
“What now?” said Frolich. “Have you found a way of telling fortunes with the hard cheese, as some pretend to do with the soft curds?”
“Look here,” said Erica. “What stamp is this? The cheese has been scraped,—almost pared, you see: but they have left one little corner. And whose stamp is there?”