Hávamál.
“Rouse out, Birger, my boy,” said the Captain; “recollect we have got the Rapids of Oxea to pass before we get any breakfast, and that we have our breakfast to catch into the bargain. Come, come,” continued he, as Birger stretched himself on his Astrakan cloak, as if he was thinking of another spell of sleep, “‘shake off dull sloth, and early rise,’ as Dr. Watts says—see me rouse out those lazy hounds down there!” And that he did, in good earnest, by firing off both barrels within a foot of their ears; a salutation responded to by a chorus of yelping from the dogs, who imagined, of course, that shooting was begun already.
This had the effect of speedily setting the whole party in motion; and Jacob, who, with provident care, had prepared, over-night, a kettle of coffee, raked together the embers of the still burning fires, presented each with a full horn of it, a very welcome introduction to the day’s labour; and then, as wood was plentiful, threw on some logs for a parting blaze.
The river itself formed the fishermen’s washing-basin, and the boat’s thwarts their toilet-tables. Bitter cold, indeed, was the water; whatever the air may be, there is seldom much caloric to spare in the water till autumn is pretty well advanced; but, at least, it had the effect of thoroughly waking them, and causing them fully to appreciate the luxury of the now blazing fires to dress by.
OPENING OF THE CAMPAIGN.
No one who has any regard for his health should think of going on a fishing expedition, however short, without a complete change of clothes,—one set for work, and one for dining and sleeping in. No man has any business, indeed, on such an expedition at all, who is afraid of water; but whether he is afraid or not, he will be sure to be wet, at one time or other, during the day. This, while the limbs are in exercise and the sun above the horizon, is all well enough; but let no man, however hardy he may think himself, sleep habitually in wet clothes, or in clothes hastily and imperfectly dried by the camp fire. The very bracing of the nerves during the day, which prevents the fisherman from taking injury by what would be called imprudence by his stay-at-home friends, makes the relaxation and reaction during the night more complete; and during that time he is exposed to a host of dangers which vanish before the face of the sun. With all his precautions, no man gets up from his night’s sleep in the open air without a little stiffness in the limbs for the first minute or so, though it may vanish at the first plunge into the water of his morning’s ablutions. But without these precautions, he is not unlikely to cut short his own expedition by any one of a dozen diseases which no amount of animal courage will enable him to bear up against, and thus he will be defeating his own object. It is very well to bear hardships cheerily when they are unavoidable—cheerfulness itself is a preservative. But it is only very young sportsmen indeed, who will seek out hardships for the pleasure of undergoing them.
Our fishermen were not young sportsmen, they were men of experience. The Parson and the Captain had both of them learned their lesson in Ireland, where people soon begin to understand what wet means; and Birger was a Swedish soldier, and had learnt these matters professionally. Before they started, they had settled the invariable rule of a complete dress for dinner, under any circumstances whatever, which implied, of course, as complete a dress in the morning: it is necessary almost to bind oneself to some such vow, there are so many temptations to break it; in Norway especially, where, though the summer days are hot—hotter by many degrees than they are in England, and the evenings in the highest degree enjoyable, the morning air is generally sharp and bracing, and the water which comes down from the snowy ranges bitterly cold.