UTLADAL STÖL, MUMPLY VALLEY.
The woman was a thick-set strong young person who lived alone at the sœter with her little boy. She had plenty of occupation; seventeen cows to milk every day, besides taking care of seventeen goats and twenty sheep.
The Utladal Stöl was built with loose granite stones, earth, and sods, forming one long low building, divided interiorly into three compartments, one opening into the other across the ground floor. They had hardened mud floors. The second room contained a fire hearth and chimney and bed, and was lighted with one small window which did not open; the compartment was used as a dairy. There were three ventilators or holes in the roof, which, by the aid of a long stick attached to a square piece of board, could be lifted or closed at pleasure. The Utladal Stöl was roofed partly with turf and partly with flat stones. In the Bergen Stift we were told that the sœters are called “stöls.” The Utladal Stöl was much like the dwelling-houses which were often met with formerly in the wild parts of Carnarvonshire and other counties in North Wales. In Norway the stöls are not used as dwellings like similar buildings were in former times in Wales. They are only occupied for a short period of the year in summer. Two guns, for shooting reindeer, hung from the roof of one of the rooms.
We were glad to leave, at ten o’clock, this melancholy part of the valley, which is between the Raudals Hö, or Hill of the Red Valley, and the Utladals Axelen. The donkeys were not very fresh, and ascended slowly the steep ascent from the stöl. Esmeralda’s donkey, the Tarno Rye, was rather weak at starting. The Puru Rawnee was stronger, but its back was a little sore. Our cruppers were made of twisted birch twigs wrapped with a piece of carpet. Birch twigs are used for a variety of purposes in Norway—crates, net baskets, hobbles, cruppers, fastenings for sails, oars, withes for gates, &c.
Soon afterwards we descended the other side of the hill towards a stream called the Lille Utladals Elv. The gipsies called it a “slem drom.” Our donkeys made their way with difficulty, and great care had to be used to keep the loads in place and the donkeys on their legs.
Reaching the rapid waters of the torrent in order to avoid the deep boggy ground on its bank, we were obliged to go upon the loose stones and shelving rocks on the brink of the stream.
In reaching the river the Puru Rawnee had fallen twice, and the second time had broken our tent pole into two pieces. Ole and ourselves took some of the things and carried them to lighten the weight.
The Utladals Elv, by which we had camped the previous night, was roaring between some precipitous rocks just beyond, and flowed into the stream we were following. At the junction we had to cross a narrow bridge over the Utladals Elv.
Some sloping slippery shelving rocks at the brink of the Lille Utladals Elv, had to be crossed to reach the bridge over the other stream. The first attempt was made with the Puru Rawnee, whose legs slipped from under it, and sliding down the slippery rock on its side, was held back by Noah just in time to prevent its going into the river. One end of the pocket was already in the stream, and the Puru Rawnee and our baggage upon her in another minute would have probably been carried down the rapid torrent and lost. Noah succeeded in holding her on the rock till we got some of the baggage unloosed. She was at length recovered, and the other donkeys were afterwards safely guided over the same rock to the bridge.
There was no wading at this part of the Utladals Elv. We had a strong, deep, heavy current of waters rushing with wild impetuosity under the overhanging rocks. High above the foaming waters, a narrow frail bridge, with a wicket and slight hand rail on each side, spanned the river. The Utladals Elv formed its junction just below with the Lille Utladals Elv. Ole stepped across the bridge with I don’t know how many pounds of baggage, on his shoulder, as if he expected the whole cavalcade to follow à pas de chasseurs de Vincennes.