CHAPTER VIII.
“The moss your couch, the oak your canopy;
The sun awakes you as with trumpet call;
Lightly ye spring from slumber’s gentle thrall;
Eve draws her curtain o’er the burning west,
Like forest birds ye sink at once to rest.”
The Gipsies:—Dean Stanley’s Prize Poem.
A NORWEGIAN OFFICER—NORWEGIAN EMIGRATION—EIDSVOLD—THE SKYDSKIFTET—QUIET RETREAT—HAPPY HOURS—BAIERSK ÖL—ESMERALDA’S TOILETTE—THE TRANSFORMATION—CURIOUS ADDRESS—NEW ACQUAINTANCE—NOAH’S ENGAGEMENT—NOAH’S CONQUEST—AN UNGRATEFUL VISITOR—A RELUCTANT PARTING.
Two or three other passengers were seated in our first-class compartment. The accommodation was very comfortable. In the carriage, above our seat, there was a small tap, and drinking-glass, for the supply of deliciously clear, pure iced water, for the convenience of the thirsty passenger.
It was after five o’clock when we left Christiania. We had about fifty-two miles to travel that evening. Our attention was divided, between conversation, with one of our fellow-passengers—a military Norwegian officer—the contemplation of the country through which we passed, and the thoughts of what sort of place, we should have to camp in that night. The Norwegian officer was an interesting companion, the paysage, we passed through, was picturesque, but the idea of our future camp, occupied most of our thoughts. We must say, they were very misty and uncertain. Our fellow-traveller continued with us longer than any of the other passengers. He had been in England some time, and was, we believe, an inspector of the Artillery, possessing a perfect knowledge of the English language. He told us that the trees in the forests were often cut down to such an extent, as to be very detrimental to the climate and shelter required in a cold country.
Great numbers of the inhabitants were now emigrating to America. Many sold their farms very cheap, in order to leave the country. The train stopped once for refreshment, at a large wooden station, and we had an opportunity of seeing our gipsies. We passed through the largest plain in Norway. When we had nearly arrived at Eidsvold, our fellow-traveller left to visit the artillery practice-ground. We were then left to muse over our coming adventures. The train stopped at last on the side of a large platform.
We were now close to the Mjösen Lake, and had reached the terminus of the Christiania and Eidsvold railway. Descending to the platform, we found that not a person spoke a word of English. With some little difficulty we got our luggage out, and the donkeys also, to the astonishment of a small group of people, including an old man in a white hat. Showers of rain had prevailed during the route, and we could not see any convenient camping-ground near the station.
We walked up the platform, and down the platform, followed by our retinue of three gipsies. The old man in the white hat continued to watch over us: he followed us, hovered round us. We tried to converse, but made nothing of it; we were unable to understand what he wanted. At length, seeing a telegraph-office, we sent a telegram to Mr. Bennett, relative to a coat, and books, we had left on board the Albion. Most of the small group of people departed after they had gazed a short time at the gipsies and donkeys. We could not see any outlet to our difficulty, or where we were to go for the night; our provisions were left behind, even if we could find a convenient camping-ground. At last the old man took a decided course, and, summoning courage, led off one of the donkeys, and the other two followed. With our usual reliance upon results, we let him have his own way, determined to follow whither he would. Some men, when they saw us moving off, fastened our baggage on a small rough hand-cart. In a few minutes, we were toiling up a steep, winding road, and lost sight of the railway-station. Then we shortly after arrived at a large, sloping, open space, shut in by trees and comfortable wooden buildings, which gave it an air of charming seclusion. The place was apparently a “skydskift,” and here seemed to be our destination. The old man went direct across the open space, in front of the wooden house, to what appeared a stable, and then halted. The donkeys were minutely inspected by the people. They brought some hay and water for our animals, who, placed in the stable, must have been astonished at their sudden transition, through such various scenes. We were then conducted through what appeared to be the doorway of the “Guest Huus,” into a passage, up some stairs, into another passage, and through an open doorway into a very comfortable room. This was a sitting-room, and also a bed-room, on the first floor. There were two windows in it, which we put open; a mirror between them, which our gipsies looked into, as the shades of night were fast coming upon us. The furniture consisted of a sofa, and table, some chairs, a bed, and washing-stand. Up some more stairs, we had another narrow, but comfortable inner room, with two more beds.
Saying something about “speise,” coffee and eggs and most excellent bread and butter were set before us. Our baggage was deposited in the passage. The gipsies, Noah and Zacharia, at our request, commenced playing the violin and tambourine, whilst the evening meal was being placed on the table. The old man, who came up with the luggage, still lingered to hear the music. We seated him on a chair near the door, for we began to look upon him as our guardian angel. The comely-looking “pige,” or girl-in-waiting, at length seated us at table, as we set our musical-box to play. They had probably never heard one. There was a charming stillness about the place, broken by those liquid modulations of harmony, which seemed to create a thousand impressions, and agreeable sensations. Then we found ourselves taking our quiet evening meal with our three gipsies, who, to do them justice, passed muster wonderfully well. Esmeralda had the small sofa. After all the hurry, worry, and bustle of the day, as we sipped our coffee, we could not help feeling thankfulness to the Giver of all things, peace with all men, and content with the world. Our repast ended, the musical box ceased to play, the old man, bowing, retired. The kind-hearted looking girls prepared the beds. Esmeralda had the best bed, in the sitting-room; Zacharia, one made up for the night on the sofa; Noah and myself, the two beds in the narrow inner room. The beds were a serious business to Noah and Zacharia. Noah could not find his road into bed. At length, with our guidance, he was initiated into the mysteries; the result was almost immediate sleep. With the windows all open, and not a sound to disturb the stillness of night, we were not long, before we became unconscious of all toil and trouble.
Never shall we forget Zacharia in his bed, as we looked into the sitting-room the next morning. High above the sofa, one naked foot protruded, somewhere trailing near the floor we noticed some straggling locks of black hair, belonging to a head, whilst all the bed-clothes were tied, twisted, tumbled, and rolled into every conceivable shape.