Forest Scenes in Norway and Sweden: Being Extracts from the Journal of a Fisherman

by Henry Newland

They retired a hundred yards or so and smoked the pipe of council, thus giving Torkel the opportunity of coming up with them.

Torkel was well acquainted with the ground, as was natural, not only because the lake was celebrated for ducks and the country round it for tjäder, but also because it happened to lie on the mountain track between his own home and Torgenson’s farm, a road which business (he did not state of what nature) required him to travel very often.

His plan was founded on a well-known characteristic in the nature of diving birds: during their dive they cannot breathe, and therefore on rising to the surface for a moment or so, they cannot make any immediate effort either to dive or to fly. He proposed, therefore, that the Captain should conceal himself among the understuff, and that the rest, taking different positions about the lake, which was not large, should break twigs and slightly alarm the bird, who would naturally edge away toward the point occupied by the Captain, and the object being a valuable prize, an hour or so was not grudged, as there was plenty of time to spare. The party having first reconnoitred their ground, marked the position to be occupied by the Captain on the lee side of the lake, and ascertained that the bird was still resting on the water, separated, taking a wide circuit, lest they should alarm it prematurely.

The Captain, with his gun ready cocked, lay at full length on the top of a little ledge of rock about six feet high, which sloped away from the water, forming a sort of miniature cliff. It afforded very little cover apparently—there was nothing between it and the water but a light fringe of cranberry bushes—but the cover was perfect to a man in a recumbent position, and the Captain being dressed entirely, cap and all, in Lowland plaid, the most invisible colour in the world, looked, even if he had been seen, like a piece of the rock on which he lay. This place had been selected with forethought, for the bird is wonderfully suspicious, and will not approach any strong cover at all.

For half an hour after the Captain had wormed himself to the edge of the rock, the bird lay as still as if it had been asleep, which it certainly was not; at the end of that time there was a quick turn of its neck, and its eye was evidently glancing round the margin, but the body remained as quiet and motionless as before; there was not a ripple on the water, and it was only by observing the diminishing distance between it and a lily leaf that happened to be lying on the surface, that even the practised eye of the Captain could tell that it was in motion, and was nearing him imperceptibly. There had been no sound, nor had the bird caught sight of anything; but the Parson had come between it and the wind, and the light air, that was not sufficient even to move the surface, had carried down the scent.

The Parson had caught sight of the lily, as well as the Captain, and, seeing the bird in motion, had halted, leaving it to the scent alone to effect his purpose. But in a few minutes it was evident that the bird had become stationary, having either drifted out of the stream of scent, or, possibly, having imagined that it was now far enough from the suspected shore.

A slight snapping of dry wood just broke the stillness; again that sharp, anxious glance, and the imperceptible motion, was renewed; another and another snap, and now the water seemed to rise against the bird’s breast, and a slight wake to be left behind him,—but it was still that same gliding motion, as if it were slipping through the water: at last, when the distance was sufficiently great to secure against flying, a cap was raised, and responded to by two or three hats at different places; the bird had disappeared, while the calm, quiet water showed no trace of anything having broken its surface. Half-a-dozen pair of eyes were anxiously on the look-out, and long and long was it before the smallest sign rewarded their vigilance. At last, and many hundred yards from the point at which they had lost sight of it, a black spot was seen floating on the water, as quietly and unconcernedly as if it had never been disturbed. It was, however, a good way to the right of the line in which they were endeavouring to drive it; the hats had disappeared, and for ten minutes the lake was as quiet as if the eye of man had never rested upon it. Then came again the glance, the move, the dive,—then an anxious moment of watchfulness,—then a white puff of smoke and a stream of hopping shot playing ducks and drakes across the water,—then the sharp, ringing report, caught up and repeated by echo after echo,—and there lay the bird, faintly stirring the surface, in the last struggles of death,—and there was gallant old Grog, plunging into the lake, and making the water foam before him in his eagerness. Four or five ducks, which had hitherto been basking unseen among the stones, sprang into air; and a flight of teal appeared suddenly whistling over the water, and, turning closely and together as they came unawares within a dozen yards of the Parson, received his right and left shots among them, and, with the loss of three or four of their company, scattered hither and thither among the trees.

“Hurrah, Grog!—bring him along, boy! bring him along!” shouted the Captain; and on every side, instead of the quiet, gliding, creeping figures, just peering about the understuff, were seen forms bounding and tearing through the cover.

The prize was one which the Captain, a taxidermist and a veteran collector, had long desired to possess, and great was the care with which it was secured on the top of Jacob’s knapsack; it being entrusted to him, as the most phlegmatic of the party and the least likely to be led away by any excitement of sport,—for at last they had arrived into something like shooting country: the character of the ground was more open and free from timber than anything they had seen, and the understuff of whort and cranberry was proportionally thicker and more luxuriant; it was ground which a dog could quarter without any very great amount of difficulty, particularly as it was absolutely free from brambles, and that furze was unknown in those latitudes anywhere outside of a greenhouse.