“Foresight is needful
To the far traveller:
Each place seems home to him:
Least errs the cautious.”
Hávamál.
“And now for work,” said the Parson, as, somewhat late on the following morning they rose from a breakfast as substantial and plentiful as had been the supper of the night before. The ordinary meals of a Norwegian are, in fact, three good substantial dinners per diem, with their proportionate quantity of strong drink: one at nine or ten, which they call “Frökost”; one at two or three, which is termed “Middagsmad”; and one in the evening, called “Afton.” But, whatever they call them, the fare is precisely the same in all; the same preliminary glass of brandy, the same very substantial hot joints, the same quantity of sweetmeats, and, at Christiansand at all events, the same liberal supply of fish. Tea and coffee are not seen at any of them, but generally form an excuse for supernumerary meals an hour or so after the grand ones.
The strangers were not yet acclimated; they lounged over their morning’s meal as if the recollections of their yesterday’s supper were yet green in their memories. Not so the natives. No one would suppose that they had supped at all—they ate as if they had been fasting for a week.
All things, however, come to an end,—even a Norwegian’s breakfast; and the Parson stood in the porch receiving English Tom’s report from the custom-house, and cataloguing the packages as they arrived. These included two dogs; one a very handsome brindled bay retriever, called “Grog,” belonging to the Captain; the other an extremely accomplished poaching setter, his own friend and constant companion. These, wild with joy at their newly regained liberty and restoration to their respective masters, from whose society they had been separated during the whole voyage, were grievously discomposing the economy of Madame Ullitz’s well-ordered house.
A small assortment of necessaries was packed in deal covered baskets or boxes,—for they looked as much like the one as the other. This manufacture is peculiar to the country, and is equally cheap and convenient. These, with the rods, guns, ammunition, and boat furniture, including the sails which were to form tents on the occasion, together with Madame Ullitz’s liberal supply of provisions (among which the rö kovringer were not forgotten), were arranged in the porch, and one by one were transferred by the boatmen to the bridge quay, where the boats were lying. The weightier articles were consigned to the keeping of Ullitz, and were lodged in his ample store rooms.
“Now, Captain,” said the Parson, as they stood on the bank of the noble river, “do you take a spare boat and a couple of hands, and pull as far as the first rapids; let Torkel be one of them, and he will show you the place. There is on the left bank of the river, a sort of rude boat canal, which is not always passable. If we can contrive to get through it, we will sleep at Oxea to-night: but, if the boats require to be hauled over land, we must be satisfied with that for one day’s work, return here to sleep, and carry our things over land to-morrow morning. It will take me a couple of hours, at the least, to fit these things, but I shall be ready for you by the time you return. And, to tell you the truth,” he added, in a whisper, “I wish you could take Birger with you. He is doing nothing but laugh and joke; and he makes the men so idle, that I shall get on twice as well without him. Set him to harl for salmon—anything, to get rid of him. It will be of use, too; for if he meet with anything down here we may be sure that Wigeland is alive with fish. You will see a reef of rocks on the right bank, a quarter of a mile above the town: it is not a bad throw—set him to work there.”