It rained heavily when we awoke about three o’clock so that we continued our repose. Ole called us at a much later hour. We gave him out of our tent, matches, and material for making the fire, and soon joined him. The gipsies also were up and stirring. Esmeralda soon managed the breakfast service from her kettle bag, which was quite equal to Pandora’s box for the extraordinary quantity and variety of things it contained. The frokost consisted of fladbröd, butter and tea. The day was dull and cloudy. We could hear with greater distinctness the roar of the rising waters of the Skögadals Elv. This was pleasant, except that we had the prospect of having one or two of our donkeys drowned in crossing the rapid waters.
The morning gradually cleared, and we diligently wrote up our notes till one o’clock. Esmeralda then announced our mid-day meal. The hobbenengree had boiled some of Ole’s bacon with the unfortunate piece of dried meat from Holaker, which had persistently haunted our soup kettle for so many miles. There was no mistaking it as Noah pronged it out with a fork, and suddenly let it fall back into the soup, as if he had seen the ghost of his Uncle Elijah.
Although not in our arrangement Ole had always had his meals from our commissariat. Ole Rodsheim was worthy of our hospitality, and we had enough to spare. On this occasion Ole said he had shared all our meals, and we might as well consume the bacon, and three loaves of bread he had brought with him. As to our tea Ole had acquired such a taste for it, that we doubt whether he will ever again be able to do without it. Our meal consisted of soup, boiled bacon, the mysterious piece of dried meat, potatoes and fladbröd.
When we looked over the maps after dinner with Ole, we could not help being astonished at the étendue and wonderful extent of wild mountain terrain scarcely explored by the Alpine Club. What a network of deep gorges, glens, valleys, lakes, and glaciers, out of which rise hundreds of steep and rugged peaks; very many have never been ascended and are scarcely known. Three lakes were pointed out by Ole as having been purchased by English gentlemen; the Rus Vand, the Heimdals Vand, and the Sikkildals Vand. Some of the lakes are of considerable extent, as the Bygdin Vand, which Ole said was about seventeen and a half miles long. The Gjendin Vand and the Tyen Vand were also large lakes easily reached from near our tent. After a careful inspection of our maps, we decided to take Ole early the next morning and visit the Mörk Fos, leaving the gipsies in care of the camp, and returning in the evening. A reconnaissance was made up the Skögadals valley above the sœters to find a crossing for our donkeys; the usual ford was too deep. Noah and Zachariah said no donkey could stand with water above his knees. The place, at last selected, was certainly better for our purpose, but we were not very sanguine. Ole said a carrier was expected at the sœter that evening, and some help might be obtained.
It was a beautiful evening after the rain. The view up the Skögadal (wooded valley) with Melkadalstinderne (the peaks of the Milk valley) in the distance, and across the river the Aurdals Axelen, which Ole said meant the shoulder of the stony valley, completed a scene long to be remembered; the sides of the Skögadal valley being covered in places with birch wood, has not the too sterile and desolate appearance of some valleys through which we had passed. About five o’clock, when we were having our gröd and milk for tea, the expected carrier and his boy were seen coming up the mountain track below our tents. The horses shied at first at our camp, but Noah went down and led one, and they passed without difficulty. Each horse can carry about eight vaage, rather more than 3 cwt., each Norwegian vaage being 38 lbs. One of the carrier’s horses was a powerful animal, larger than the Norwegian pony. Two strong wooden barrels, with lids, are slung on each side a wooden frame or saddle furnished with iron rings and a leather crupper. The barrels are two feet two inches long, by eleven and three-quarter inches wide, and one foot eight inches deep. The weight is well balanced, and the fastenings very strong and well adapted to stand the rough stony tracks of the Norwegian fjelds. An arrangement was quickly made for the carrier to take Ole and ourself across the Skögadals Elv the next morning, and bring us back in the evening, for half a mark each. It rained heavily after tea. About nine o’clock, when it was over, we took Noah and Zachariah to the upper sœter to give the people some music. Ole was there, the carrier, and his son, and the sœter women. As we came in we made our début in the Skögadal world of music by slipping on the uneven mud floor of the first room, and falling down, nearly upsetting the sœter woman’s bucket of milk, who was milking, and if we had not been very quick completely smashing our guitar. Our satisfaction at having rescued our guitar which had been carried without injury by Esmeralda so many miles, quite healed any bruises we sustained. No bones broken; we were soon up, and in the second room. The violin, guitar, and tambourine, soon waked up the stillness of the night. We must say that no artistes of the greatest celebrity could have had a more pleased and admiring audience. As we retired we felt quite giddy from the extreme closeness of the atmosphere of the sœter. Noah had also carried off two fleas; so much the better for Ole. The night was damp and windy as we sought our camp and went to bed.
Early awake, we were completing our toilette to the music of snoring gipsies when Ole came. Half-past five, gröd and milk formed our breakfast, Ole adding to his own some myse ost, to qualify, as he said, the milk. The carrier came with one of his horses; we both mounted and forded the Skögadals Elv, and turning the horse back he returned across riderless to his master. Commencing our expedition at seven o’clock, we made our way for some distance through a large birch wood, and at length descended into the valley called Aurdal.[102] This part of the narrow valley which we crossed is completely full of enormous stones piled one upon another in wild chaos. Ole called the valley Urdal or Aurdal. All was wild sterility, and the separate detached blocks of loose stone were often so enormous, that it was slowly, and with difficulty we made our way to the opposite side. A stream flowed far beneath the loose stones tossed and piled above its course in extraordinary masses. Its waters were at times obscured and hidden by the blocks of stone of all shapes and sizes, piled in heterogeneous confusion. When we left this stony valley we continued our route along the sloping sides of the mountain beyond, to the left of the deep gorge of the Utladals Elv. At about eleven o’clock in the forenoon we reached the “Fleskedal Sœter.” The stöl is pleasantly situated on a rise of open mountain ground near a clear stream of water. Leaving our things with the sœter woman, we descended through a steep forest of birch and firs, and at last crossing a new bridge over a wild torrent soon afterwards reached another stöl or sœter which was closed. This was the Vettismark forest and sœter. Ole said that this forest was renowned for its large trees. Round the sœter the trees were partly cleared; some were left scattered here and there. The whole scene reminded us of a sheep station in an Australian forest. From this picturesque plateau we had splendid views of some of the summits of the Horungerne mountains. The scene was beautiful in the sunshine of mid-day; it made us wish to linger there for ever. What a spot for a tent. Crossing the narrow stream near the sœter, and passing through a lovely forest view, we were soon near the edge of the hanging cliff, over which the narrow river we had crossed, falls in one straight and almost perpendicular column of water, not less than 800 feet—we thought it more. In a note to Captain Campbell’s interesting article on the Mörkfos, published in the “Alpine Journal” of August 1870, it seems that the height of the fall is about 1000 feet.[103]
We refer our readers to this article for an excellent description of this waterfall, and especially to the engraving there given of the fall, which is from an original sketch by Captain Campbell.
The sun shone high; the sky was Italian blue. Ole produced his rope; carefully securing it round our body, he steadied himself at a small tree and held the other end of the rope. Then we advanced to the edge of the hanging cliff. The wild heath formed an arched and matted roof above the far distant rocks in the abyss below. As we cautiously leant over, Nature broke upon us in all the light of her splendid magnificence. Who can doubt the power of a great Creator who views such scenes? We could have stayed there never-tiring to eternity. As we seemed to catch as it were the broken ground with our legs, almost suspended in mid air, we could not divest ourselves of the thought that some of the finest scenes in Nature are often overlooked. Had the shelving cliff given way we were secured by a rope, but we must say our position would have been unpleasant. The cliffs on either side stand abruptly out and are overhanging, so that it is difficult to get a good view of the fall from above, except at the point we were looking over. The rocks below, which receive the waters of the fall, for some distance upwards are almost black.
When we retired from the cliff’s edge, we roped Ole and he had a similar view. Notwithstanding all that had been said by Captain Campbell, the Mörkfos far surpassed our expectations in height, volume of water, and picturesque beauty. There is no drawback. All accessories are perfect. Mountain outline, rock, tree, forest—all that surround the fall, rival it in their several perfections of harmonious beauty. Reluctantly we must say, that even the Rjukan fos and its romantic association of the “Lovers” or “Marie stein” is scarcely equal to the Mörkfos.[104] Other lovers of nature who visit this wild scene may probably pass a decisive opinion either to confirm or reverse ours. Both falls have their separate beauty.
The valley of the Aardal below, is all the most enthusiastic lover of nature could desire.[105] Opposite to us were the magnificent steeps of the Maradalstinder. The waterfall roaring down its sides, was only dwarfed, by its more splendid rival the Mörkfos. The fall opposite is the Maradals elv fos. As we watched it, a beautiful iris of red, yellow, and blue, hovered above the foaming waters, the only one, we had ever seen.