“What! do you meet with bears in the forest?”
“Pooh, nonsense! you Englishmen are always fancying that we kick bears out of every bush in Sweden.”
“You Englishmen!” said Birger, glancing at the flag.
“Well, well,—you Johnny Raws, I should say,—you freshmen—you griffins. I was just as bad myself, though: I remember the day I landed at Gotheborg, marching off with my gun over my shoulder to a little wooded valley at the back of the town where the Gotheborg cockneys have their villas, and attacking a Swede, dictionary in hand, with ‘Hvar er Bjornerne’—how the scoundrel laughed.”
“Well, but what do you mean by bear shooting then,—where do you meet with it?”
“Why, you travel a hundred miles to get a shot at a bear, and think little of it too. The bear hunter must keep up a correspondence with the Ofwer Jagmästerer of the different provinces, and get information whenever the peasants have ringed a bear as they call it—that is to say, ascertained that he is within a certain circle, and then out with the sledge and the dogs, and the rifles, and away up the river, or across the lake, as it may be. You do not meet with a bear at every turning, I can assure you. I have killed a pretty many though, one way or other, since I have been here.”
“That you have,” said the Captain,—“at least, if all those trophies that ornament your walls are honestly come by; but by your own showing, you cannot be hunting every day in the week; what do you do on the off-days?”
“Well, to tell you the truth, I was dull enough the first winter; you will hardly believe it, but I took to reading—I did indeed; you may laugh, but it is quite true. I got up the natural history of the country thoroughly, and crammed Linnæus. But I soon found something better to do, when I began to get acquainted with the people, worthy souls that they are. I had invitations without end, and got on capitally with them,—quite a popular character I am.”
“The English are popular,” said the Parson, certainly; “high and low we have found that, wherever we have been. What we English have done to deserve it is more than I can say; but Norway and Sweden, agreeing in nothing else, agree at all events in doing honour to the English traveller.”
“Do not be taking the conceit out of Moodie”, said Birger; “it is evident that he would have you to understand that it is he, the individual,—not he, the Englishman, who is thus honoured and caressed.”