And without losing more time we all set to work and carried the baggage over. Then came the Tarno Rye’s turn; Zachariah pulled at its head, whilst ourself and Noah pushed behind, and forced it by main strength up the stones to the wicket. It was almost over the cliff once, but we both laid hold of a hind leg each, whilst Mephistopheles tugged at the donkey’s head. As the frail bridge shook it is lucky we did not all vanish into the chasm below. With main force the Tarno Rye was lifted on to the bridge, and finding itself there quietly allowed itself to be led by Zachariah and Ole to the other side.
It was rather expected we should succeed in the same way with the other two, but they made such a resolute fight that there was considerable risk of losing one of the donkeys through the handrail at the end of the bridge.
“Bring the tether rope, Noah.”
We then proposed to noose them by the head, and so drag them over. Noah further suggested that we might double the rope and pass it round the donkeys hind quarters. It was a good idea immediately adopted. The Puru Rawnee was the first. Esmeralda and Zachariah at the ends of the doubled rope across the bridge. Ourself on the bridge steadying its head. Noah and Ole pushing behind.
Sharp was the contest, first at the stones leading to the bridge, then at the light rails at the end of the bridge which shook under our weight as the donkey resisted. Now and again Esmeralda pulled. Mephistopheles pulled, and the Puru Rawnee, at length, sorely against her will, was dragged over the bridge.[99] The Puru Rye was also soon pulled over by the same method, amid much laughter from our gipsies. In a few minutes the donkeys were again loaded.
“What is the name of the bridge?” asked we.
“Lusehaug Bro,” said Ole as we pushed along the Utladals Elv, and whilst we gradually ascended obliquely higher above the Utladals Elv, so the Utladals Elv seemed to sink deeper, and deeper, into the hidden recesses of a bottomless ravine. In a short time we entirely lost sight of its rapid waters.[100]
This river is ultimately joined by the waters from the Mörkfos. After winding along the hill side we reached a sort of upper plateau at the foot of the Skögadal.
Near the Skögadals Elv are two sœters some short distance apart, on the banks of the Elv, whose swift course is soon lost down the precipitous steeps which abruptly fall from the plateau to the dark narrow ravine below. Halting at a short distance from the Skögadal sœters, a fire was lighted, and we had fried bacon and potatoes and tea for dinner. Until we had another tent pole it was impossible to pitch our tent. Shortly after dinner it poured with rain, but our baggage was all safely covered with our siphonia waterproof. Ole showed his ready skill by cutting down a small birch tree in the wood just above us, which he shaped out with his hunting knife to the proper size and length, and then cut holes sufficiently large for our tent raniers. A very good substitute Ole made. We have it now, after all the rough work of our remaining campaign. There was a slight cessation of rain, during which the tents were pitched. We were delighted with our camping ground. All were pleased with it. It was certainly a wild, secluded, and beautiful spot. There was the pleasing reflection that we were at home in our pleasant camp. No care, no trouble, no sleeping in sœter beds in a suffocating close atmosphere, or lying on mud floors, slimy with spilt milk and damp moisture. No anticipation of fleas, with the certainty of such anticipation being realized to the fullest extent of human endurance. Then there are floating visions as to the number and variety of people who have previously slept in these beds. Some idea may be formed of sœter life by the following extract of recent personal experience, related by Mr. Murray Browne:—“I prepared for the night by pulling on my second shirt and second pair of trousers over that which I was wearing at the time. I then lay down on the floor with a rug—a sort of horse-cloth—under me, and a rope for my pillow. My brother and Saunders slept on a sort of bench, with their legs stretched under a kind of shelf which served as the only table. The women and children occupied the only bed, and Hans and his son slept, like myself, on the floor. Before long it got very cold.”[101]
On the right of the Utladals Elv a foaming torrent falls from an upper plateau of the Horungerne. On our left we could see the Skögadals Elv, and on the opposite side the Aurdals Axelen, forming the two sides of the valley out of which issues the Skögadals Elv, and falls down rocky steeps into the deep gorge of the Utladal. A beautiful green, moss-covered, rocky, low hill, formed our foreground on the opposite side of the Skögadals Elv. As you look down the deep gorge beyond, two hills rise in picturesque outline, one with a very steep, dark summit. The white foam of a waterfall contrasts with the dark rocks of the mountain down which it falls. In the far distance a small pointed hill stands alone. It is far down the gorge, as far as the eye can reach. For our tea we had gröd and milk. Ole retired to the sœter at eight o’clock, and as it rained heavily we all went to bed. When we retired to rest on the mossy turf; we could not help expressing pity for the unfortunate people stoved up in the sœters. Ole said it would probably rain next day, but if fine it was arranged that he should call us up at three o’clock the next morning.