Reader, we must plead to being rather absent. Our campaign is nearly ended; we are going to rest. Mephistopheles comes in. “Sir, I have just seen an adder in the stones below the tent.”
“Let the sapeau alone, Zachariah,” said we, not wishing to hear more about adders.
Our camp was soon buried in sleep.
On Sunday, 21st August, it was a beautiful morning, when we rose at four o’clock. Our breakfast consisted of cold ham bones, biscuits, and English cheese. About half-past ten o’clock we took Noah with us to Sandviken. Our route lay through Bœrums Verk. It is an interesting spot as belonging to one of the last Barons of Norway. A fine chateau stands upon the crest of a hill above the village, something in the style of Oscars-hall.
The Baron is a courteous and polite man. We at once noticed the influence and effect of such a mind upon the manners of his dependants. The Baron possesses large iron works at Bœrums Verk. The church near is built of bricks, and, for the first time in Norway, we heard bells. There is something about bells which reminds us of prayer, of peace, and contentment. At the inn at Sandviken we found every attention we could wish. They must have been somewhat astonished at tall Noah, my Sancho Panza, his trowsers being patched to the utmost extent human ingenuity could devise; they included the best part of a coat, amongst other additions.
At the inn at Sandviken there is a sort of travellers’ room. Our middags-mad consisted of a beefsteak each, at one mark six skillings the steak, and one bottle of Baiersk öl at twelve skillings; we gave the pige four skillings. Sandviken is a pleasant village, about nine miles from Christiania. We arranged for a carriole, from Sandviken to Christiania the next day, and, leaving, we reached our camp, at seven o’clock.
Esmeralda and Zachariah had not taken any dinner, but had waited our return. Mephistopheles had actually killed a snake in the stones near our tent. It measured one foot eight inches long, having a brown back, and black belly. It was the only one we saw in Norway; it was no myth; Mephistopheles said there were more.
Two tourists, when we returned, were looking at our tents, and talking to Esmeralda; they were going to take the steamer, at nine o’clock that night, from Sandviken, and were obliged to leave at once. They were very nice young fellows. As we sat in our tents, taking our tea, biscuits, and cheese, another party of tourists came, and bowed to us. When we had finished, a number of peasants congregated round our camp fire. They did not seem disposed to leave, although we were anxious to retire for the night. Mephistopheles at length approached the fire in a mysterious manner, and throwing into it some crumpled paper, walked away. They thought it explosive, for they quickly left.
Now the closing scenes of summer had come, we were told that the nights in Norway were cold, and frosty, from the 20th to the 23rd of August. No one will ever know our feelings as we paced, up and down, on this last evening of our camp wanderings. It was the last night of our tent life in Norway. Somehow even our donkeys seemed to take an enlarged sphere, in the region of our affections, as we viewed them, quietly grazing, in the picturesque ravine. A clinging affection seemed to return, now that we were about to bid adieu to our tents, equipage, to our gipsies, even to our donkeys; we were now to end our camp life, with our English gipsies, in this wild Norwegian forest.
We had for a time escaped from our books, which are as whetstones to the human understanding; yet, occasionally, they wear away the intellect, until it has nothing left to sharpen. Is it necessary to bestow so much time in classical study? There was a time when it entered largely into our necessities. Now there is a great change. Our intercourse with all parts of the world requires a knowledge of many modern languages. Life is short. One often doubts if competitive examinations are useful. Some individuals, all mind, and no energy, occasionally attain to positions, requiring more physical energy than mind, to the country’s disadvantage, and their own misery. Camp life is the obverse of book study; whilst it fosters the physical energy, it develops, and strengthens, the nervous system, and gives a self-reliance, which cannot be comprehended by the Kairengro, of what is called civilized life.