Half a mark as we left made it indispensably necessary that we should shake hands with the old man of the Krogkleven.
In a short time we reached the Dronning’s Udsigt. The plateau is at a somewhat lower elevation, between two cliffs wooded with birch and fir; whilst we sat on the wooden seat, Noah quite agreed with ourself, that the view, though very beautiful and extensive, did not equal the Kongen’s Udsigt.
As we returned to our camp, we observed on a gate the name of Luk Grindon. At the house, the woman showed us a horn of birch wood, about a yard long, which she sounded for us, and ultimately Esmeralda succeeded in blowing it.
When we came to our camp, Zachariah had struck our tents, and packed the things up ready for loading. The pale young Norwegian again passed along the road; speaking in Norwegian, he said, “It must be very cold.” Esmeralda got out our tin box, and we presented him with our gipsy song. Esmeralda was full of energy and fire. Our visitor seemed much astonished, as she flung the things about, and occasionally we had a cross-fire of English, and Romany, which he did not understand. Our visitor, apparently, did not know what to make of it as he left, but Esmeralda meant no harm. The superabundant energy must be exhausted, and, occasionally, like other people, she got up on the wrong side the turf.
Away we all go at ten o’clock, through the charming wild forest towards Christiania. The sky has cleared, and it is a sunny day.
During our route from Stee by Lomen, Slidre, and other places in the district of the Valders, until we reached Aurdal, we had looked in vain for anyone resembling a gipsy. The gipsies who visited the fairs at Veblungsnoes generally stated they came from the Valders, so that we had some hope, that in passing through the district, we might meet with some of this people.
As we now refer to the Valders, it was this district that suffered so severely in the 14th century from the Sorte Död (black death).
It is said that a foreign vessel stranded on the Norwegian coast with a dead crew. In a short time a kind of plague, called the “black death,” depopulated many districts, so that not a single inhabitant remained.[131]
We soon came near a Bondegaard in the forest, and met a young Norwegian lady; she smiled as she passed us. “Ah, sir!” said Zachariah, “you diks as if you would like the cova juval for your Rawnee.”
Again we came to open ground in the forest, and halted at twelve o’clock. Our middags-mad consisted of tea, sardines, bread and cheese. The oil from the sardines had a most soothing effect on Esmeralda’s temper, she became the perfection of amiability, and politeness.