“It is Lurön,” said Nils.
“Lurön,” said Moodie, “why, that is miles to the eastward of our course! Where have you been steering to during the night?”
“You told me to ‘keep her as she goes,’ and so I did.”
And so he had; the fault lay with Moodie himself, who from the first starting had steered two points to the eastward of his course; the fog and the current—for the Wener is big enough for current—had done the rest.
It did not however signify, the breeze blew merrily and promised to stand; the fog now lay in light fleecy clouds far above their heads; the sun, not far from the horizon, began to smile upon them and to chase away the dangers of the night, and with them the ill-humour they had engendered; the fore-sheet was let draw, and as she gathered way she tacked, fell off on the port-tack, and with a jolly breeze on her quarter, buzzed away through the water to the northwest.
Soon a line of trees appeared on the horizon, as if they were dancing in the air, or floating in the water; then the trunks began to form and unite with something below them; then the line of land, real firm land, began to manifest itself; then red, and white, and black, and brown, and striped cottages began to show out; and before ten the anchor was let go before the little town of Amal.
The horses were still awaiting them, for the allotted three hours, during which they are bound to remain, had not yet elapsed and they escaped on payment of the regulated fine for being after time. The men were sent on immediately in the waggon which Moodie had spoken of, and which he had written to his friend the farmer to borrow, sending his note by the forebud. In half-an-hour the carioles were harnessed, and as they plunged into the forests at the back of Amal, the last thing they saw was the pretty cutter, close hauled, lying as near to her course to Wenersborg as the wind would let her look.
The trees of Western Carlstadtlan, which they were now traversing, are said to be the finest in Sweden; this is due partly to the depth and goodness of the soil—a circumstance which will eventually secure their destruction, by offering a temptation to convert the fjeld into arable land; that they stood, even yet, was principally on account of the absence of any great rivers, which afford the only means of conveying timber to the coast. The land is quite as good on the banks of the Klara and Swedish Glommen, the latter of which runs into the lake a few miles eastward of Amal, but there is a sensible difference in the growth of the timber. There was fir, no doubt, in plenty—there is no Swedish forest without fir,—but there were also huge beech trees, and a sprinkling of not very happy-looking oak, that put one in mind of the English in India: they lived in the country, but they did not enjoy it.
The whole country looked like an enormous park—rather too thickly planted, to be sure,—one kept looking, at every turn of the road, for the mansion; and the road, too, though not one of very great traffic, was very good, winding along with a great border of short turf on each side, comparatively level on the whole, but occasionally interrupted by a descent so sharp that it seemed as if the carioles were going to cut a summerset over the horses’ ears,—more particularly as the horses invariably chose those portions of the road for going as hard as they could lay legs to ground, a peculiarity sufficiently trying to the nerves; and as those portions of the road were invariably cut to pieces by the rush of the water, and were full of rocks besides, sufficiently trying to the bodily feelings.
On the opposite sides of these ravines, the horses would creep at the rate of about a mile an hour, the passenger being so absolutely expected to walk up them, that many of the horses came to a dead halt at the bottom, and refused to proceed at all till disencumbered of their weight.