Most cataracts commence with a rapid: so still and calm was the Gotha at this point, that the esplanade in question was the general landing place from Wenersborg, and was furnished with iron rings for the purpose of mooring the boats, several of which, very fair specimens of Swedish boat-building, were hanging on to them, scarcely stretching out their respective painters, so gentle was the current. Among them lay a very handsome gig with bright sides, well scraped oars, and a white English ensign fluttering in the morning breeze; from which Moodie, who had come in state with four rowers, had just landed, and by means of which, the travellers were to complete their journey.
In truth, Gäddebäck was not very accessible in any other way; it had been originally built as a pic-nic house by the Mayor of Wenersborg, who, when he had been half-ruined by the great fire that had taken place there the year before, was glad enough to contract his expenses, and to find a person to take it off his hands. It suited Moodie well enough, and its low rent suited him also, but there were not many men whom it would suit at all. It had been built exclusively for pleasure parties, and these were expected to arrive there either by boat or by sledge, according as the surface of the river was, water or ice. No one had ever troubled themselves with any other entrance, and it was no sort of drawback to the place in its original state, that communication with the main land was entirely cut off. The still, deep brook which gave to the place its name (pike brook), had spread out behind the house into a broad reedy morass, which in spring, during the floods, was a broad reedy lake, but in summer a sort of neutral ground, between land and water, through which was led a precarious track, which might be passed on wheel, or indeed on foot, provided the traveller did not object to very clear water, not much above his knees. The actual spot on which the house was situated in the middle of all this, was a patch of parky ground, abounding in beautiful timber, which was five or six feet above the general level; that part of it which lay next the river was firm, and hard, and covered with short green turf, but this subsided to landward, first into wet sponge, secondly into bog, and lastly into reedy water, in proportion as it receded from the river. The brook, divided by this patch of dry land, soaked into the main stream, on either end of it, completely insulating the domain.
This suited Moodie exactly, for the little park was full of all sorts of grouse and other birds, which looked as if they were at perfect liberty, as indeed they were, only that having had their pinions cut, and not being able to swim, they could not pass the girdle of water—herons, and cranes, and bitterns, were stalking about, or watching for fish in the shallows, like their wild brethren, for though excellent waders, and quite in their element on the soppy shores to landward, they could not swim any more than the grouse. There were some deer, also, of various kinds, but as these had no sort of objection to take the water, they were confined in little paddocks, those being classed together who would keep the peace.
On the esplanade, between the house and the river, lay a dozen dogs, mostly English, on excellent terms with the great brown bear, who, though perfectly tame, was secured from paying any inquisitive visits to the deer paddocks by a collar and chain, with which he was made fast to a substantial post at the door.
The whole front of the house had been occupied by a ball-room, with windows opening into a verandah. This verandah had become a general marine store—oars, boat-hooks, masts, sails, were arranged along it on hooks; but so tidily and regularly were they disposed, that they looked as if they had been placed there for ornament;—fishing rods of all lengths were there, and a large assortment of eel-lines and night-lines, and trimmers, and gaffs, and pike-wires, and spears, and other poaching implements, together with a goodly assortment of drags and flues in the back ground; while a full-sized casting net, hung up to dry, displayed its leaded semi-circle to the sun: for be it remembered, Moodie made a profit of his pleasure, and not only kept his own establishment in fish, but very seldom allowed the Gotheborg steamer to pass without dispatching in her a heavy birchen basket, consigned to Jacob Lindegren, the fishmonger.
Neither was the interior at all out of character: the ball-room had been divided by wooden partitions into three very tolerable apartments—an ante-room or broad passage in the middle, and on either side his dining room and what he called his study, that is to say, the place where he made his flies. The passage, which was sufficiently littered, contained little other furniture than a turning-lathe and a carpenter’s bench, with shelves and pigeon-holes round the sides for the necessary tools; but both rooms were pictures of tidiness; the furniture was plain enough, certainly, but the walls were covered with sketches, of Moodie’s own drawing, and with sporting trophies of every kind: huge bear skins and wolf skins occupied whole panels, surmounted, perhaps, by the grinning skull of a lynx, or a huge antlered head with the skin on; between these were cases containing most of the wild birds found in the country, all stuffed by his own hands; together with specimens of eggs, hung up in a pattern, but each labelled with the name of the bird it belonged to. Between the windows was a formidable armoury, while over one door was a stuffed otter, and over the other a wild cat, and the rug itself was formed of badgers’ skins bordered with fox; for Moodie had imported an English grate and had built a fire-place, besides the invariable stove.
Such was the sportsman’s paradise, into which Moodie welcomed his guests. There was accommodation, such as it was, for an unlimited number of them; for there were several empty rooms of one sort or another; and a rough box, hastily run up with planks from the saw mills, filled with dry poplar leaves and covered with a bear skin, was a bed much better than any of them had been accustomed to. As for washing, their toilet apparatus was laid out every morning on the stage to which the boats were moored, and a dive into the river was the very best way of washing the face after shaving,—at least, so Moodie seemed to think, for though his room was pretty well fitted up, inasmuch as such toilet would be difficult in the winter, when the river was as hard as a stone, in summer he always chose the boat stage for his own dressing room, as well as for that of his guests.
No one was sorry for a rest; journals had to be written up, notes had to be compared; there was something, too, in lounging lazily in the sun, or smoking a peaceful cigar under the shade of the awning, or teasing the bear, or feeding the grouse, and knowing all the while that there was no duty neglected, and no opportunity lost. Not but that excursions in a quiet way were made—now upon the water with the trolling tackle, now on the high grounds of the royal forest, now on neither land nor water, but on the marshy debateable land, astonishing the ducks that swarmed among the reed beds which divide the left bank of the river from the sound land; but nothing very particular was done, beyond existing in a very high state of quiet enjoyment.