In the present instance, the front of his hat exhibited a purple plume of the “laf-reseda,” which perfumed the air around him with an odour like that of the night-scented stock. He had placed it there not so much for that or for its beauty, as because, like the ground-mulberry, it is never seen south of the latitude in which they then were—not even in the south of Sweden. Twining round the hat-band was a wreath of “Baldur’s brow,” a beautiful white flower, dedicated in heathen times to the god of Innocence, and still bearing his name, and retaining a portion of its ancient sanctity.[51] The lily of the valley, which in Sweden signifies much the same as it does in England, formed its appropriate companion; and so might the heart’s-ease, which fairly tinged the hill sides with blue and yellow, had it retained any equivalent to its English appellation; but in Sweden it is called “skart-blom,” and is appropriated to the Devil. It is the flower the witches decorate themselves with when they ride by night to the Satanic rendezvous, and dance infernal polkas in the wilds of Blaakulla.
“See!” said Birger, “look at that white flag! there it is, glancing against the corner of those firs in the svedgefall; now you see another in a line with it,—that is the Ordningsman and his party; he marks the centre of the advancing line. Before they started, the Jagmästere will have given him his precise bearing from the centre of the hållet, and his business is to attend neither to the bears nor to the beating, but to advance steadily on his own line; for that purpose he has those three flagsmen allotted to him. There, you see that fellow on the farther edge of the svedgefall, showing his flag from that black-looking fir?—look through your glass, and you will easily make out the Ordningsman himself; there he is, with his compass in his hand, close by the farthest flag; he is taking the bearings of the first man that we made out; and there is the third now advancing to take up a new position. What he has to do is to keep those flags always in the straight line, and all the rest dress from him.”
Just then, the Jagmästere rode, or rather clambered, into the svedgefall on his little cream-coloured pony, which, accustomed to the work, scrambled about the fallen trees more like a dog than a horse. He was attended by a large party on foot; one of these, who might be termed his orderly, had to lead his horse round by the forest cattle tracks, whenever it happened, as it very frequently did happen, that the under-stuff was too thick for a horseman to traverse.
His right wing, which had been beating the easier and more open country towards the river, had got some distance in advance, and he was evidently directing the Ordningsman to halt in the svedgefall till the left had time to come up. Messengers were dispatched right and left; the bugles began to sound, some the “advance” and some the “halt,” and those parts of the line which had begun to emerge from the trees, were seen collecting in little groups in different attitudes of rest, lighting their pipes, or visiting their havresacs for their mid-dag’s mad of black bread and hard white cheese.
Before long the left wing, the advanced flank of which was under their feet, made itself to be both heard and seen. The ground here was much more difficult, because at the immediate foot of the cliff the debris of ages had formed themselves into a very steep slope. This part, rugged and uneven with fallen blocks of stone, was covered with a close brake of underwood, not only of juniper, but of hazels and rowan bushes, all matted together by brambles,—as well as birch and ash, the last of which, winding its long roots among the stones, had in most places attained the dignity of timber trees.
Well aware that every head of game disturbed along the whole line would, if possible, seek refuge here, the Jagmästere had intended that his left wing should be thrown forward, and had allotted a hundred men, under the most experienced of his Adjutanter, to search the ground well, keeping a mile or so in advance of the line. The eagerness of the men on first starting had somewhat disturbed this arrangement, for at the beginning the cover, along the greater part of the line, had consisted of firs, which not only screened the men from the eyes of their officers, but, by destroying the under-stuff, permitted them to get forwards without any great exertion. It was to rectify this that the halt had been called.
“What is that?” said the Parson, jumping up and scattering half his mulberries down the precipice, as a rush of wings came sharp round the corner of the rock, and a great cock-tjäder, as big as a turkey, came close over his head, and dashed into the firs that crested the hill.
“That,” said Birger, unslinging his rifle, “that is a hint that we ought to keep a better look-out;—not that we should have had that fellow though, for, awkward and heavy as they seem, they rush along like a round shot, when once they get into their flight. But never mind, we shall have more of them presently—mind where you shoot, though, if you use your rifle,—there will be a peasant or two knocked over before we have done, most likely. We do not think much of that, but you would not like to be playing Archbishop Abbott[52] yourself, would you?”
The Parson laughed, as he examined and poised his double-barrelled gun—for the rifle was in the charge of Torkel,—and made a successful right and left shot among a covey of orre grouse that were skimming over the tree-tops at his feet.