At the railway-station the case of provisions, which had arrived, cost us one dollar. Sealing our letters in the telegraph office, we posted them. The case of provisions, which was very heavy, was brought down to the steamer, and placed on the jetty to be taken on board. We then noticed, fastened to it, a letter from Mr. Bennett, and Hudson Brothers’ receipted bill, attached outside the case. It appeared that some of the packages in the case had burst open. Pea-flour, wheat-flour, salt, and other contents had got mixed and spread about in wild confusion. Mr. Bennett had kindly had the pea-flour and salt put into a bag. Great care is requisite in packing for long journeys. The provisions were all right at last. Paying another visit to the telegraph office, we remitted to Mr. Bennett a sum sufficient to cover all costs incidental to the baggage and expenses, and also wrote a letter to him. We must ever acknowledge his kind attention. Mr. Bennett’s services are invaluable to new arrivals; ten minutes’ conversation with him will often save the tourist days of trouble, vexation, and delay. You have, also, the feeling that he is a gentleman, and you can trust his advice. Our telegraph clerk was wonderfully polite, and we felt a certain amount of regret when for the last time we wished him good morning. As we left the office, he said, in very good English, “I think, sir, you are now all right.”
We returned to the steamer, which left Eidsvold at half-past eleven in the forenoon.[29] The passengers were for the most part plainly dressed, and of the class of small farmers. The men wore large, ample trousers, and thick, heavy Wellington boots. The excursion along the lake was delightful. The Mjösen is sixty-three English miles in length. On the shores of the lake, the steamer passed numerous farms and pleasant homesteads, with pine and fir forests forming a distant background. Towards Lillehammer the scenery becomes more picturesque; the landing stations often reminded us of colonial settlements. Then we became acquainted with a young passenger and his friend who were going to Lillehammer. The friend spoke a few words of English. A tall, smart-looking young Norwegian officer, neatly dressed in plain clothes, who had travelled in England, France, and Prussia, spoke English fluently. Whilst we were conversing, an old man came up with a number of knives to sell; they were suspended to a wire. After some inspection, we selected two knives at six marks each, and one at one dollar. Then came the money payment; it was a serious business. We produced a handful of those varied coins, many not counting for the value they are marked. A young man who spoke a few words of English volunteered to count out the sum. The countenance of the old man gazing on my money, and the young man, who was anxious to be exact to a skilling, would have made a good subject for Frith, or some artist skilful in making a group on canvas convey its own wordless history. The hunting-knives were intended as presents to our gipsies. Although the only Englishmen on board, with such homely, kind people, we felt as with friends, and they seemed to give us welcome to their beautiful land. As we surveyed the Lake scene, the Dronningen steamed in sight. Our friend the captain took off his hat in salutation to our captain and passengers. When we were returning his greeting he seemed to recognise us, and again waved his hat in final adieu. The Dronningen is said to be the best steamer on the lake. What a strange exhilaration we felt as we inhaled the pure lake breeze, whilst the steamer glided along the waters of the Mjösen. We had no care. The moments seemed an existence of perfect enjoyment, with only a short span dividing us from our tents, and people, and first Norwegian camp, whence we should wander over many leagues of nature’s fairest scenes. On the shores of the lake, to our right, stand the ruins of Stor Hammer cathedral, forming some picturesque arches, in broken decay, nearly all that remains of a once noble pile destroyed in 1567. At this part of the lake, George Bidder, once renowned as the calculating boy, whose wonderful memory and rapid calculations we had often read of in days gone by, had purchased an estate.[30]
Although there are not many castles in Norway, on the island of Helgëo are the ruins of a fortress built by Hako IV. The old church of Ringsaker, on the eastern shore of the lake, is said to possess an altar curiously carved, and also the body of a priest, singularly preserved from the ruthless hand of time.[31] The old church is said to stand on the battle-field where St. Olaf gained one of his many victories, and adds one more interesting association to the shores of the Mjösen.
Dinner on board the steamer is announced as “fertig” (ready). It was not a table d’hôte consisting of many dishes, but a substantial meal of fish, meat, and a Norwegian dish, of which milk formed a large ingredient. As we afterwards lounged on deck, the Norwegian officer looked over our song, gave us some hints of pronunciation of Norsk words, and said the English verses were well translated into Norwegian. The song, with its engraved bordure of gipsy life and Norwegian scenery, seemed to interest him very much; and before he left at Hammer he was much pleased with the copy we presented for his acceptance.
One large island, in the lake, we were told, was the most fertile in Norway. The shores of the lake are not very far distant from each other. All was sunshine, with a strong breeze upon the lake. How changed the scene in winter. One of the passengers told us the winter continued eight months, sometimes even nine months. The days in summer are often very warm, and the nights cold. The homesteads had no pretensions to Swiss decoration; and the villages had a similar appearance to a new settlement in Australia. Without the forest trees Norway would soon be a sterile spot. Take the timber from the mountains, and all would be a barren, cheerless wilderness of rocks and stones. It is to be hoped that government will one day restrain the rapid destruction of the forests. Even in England the shady lanes are fast vanishing before the close-cropped hedge-rows; barely a fence which is considered necessary in this utilitarian age. The birds, which once found shelter and convenience for building their nests, are diminishing fast, and one must often listen in vain for their cheerful song.[32]
The steamer passed a very picturesque rocky island towards Lillehammer. Only one traveller now remained who spoke English, and his stock was limited, consisting of two words. Fortunately, we arranged with the steward for a stock of three bottles of brandy, and two or three bottles of St. Jullien claret, before the officer who spoke English left the vessel. We paid one dollar for our fare, and three dollars one mark and eight skillings for dinner, coffee, ale, bread and cheese, three bottles of brandy, and two of claret. We tried in vain to pass an English sovereign, to economise our small coin. The steward spoke a little English. He was a jolly-looking, buzzy, fuzzy, smick-smack, smooth, straight up-and-down, and no mistake, sort of fellow. He did his best to assist us. We soon steamed up to the wooden pier below Lillehammer. Noah was standing between our two tents, pitched on a rise of ground, above a wooden building by the pier. Noah saw us at once, and came down to the pier as jauntily as possible, with a pipe, to our great surprise, stuck in his mouth.
Waiting until the passengers had gone on shore, we called Noah on board, and gave him the bottles to carry to our tents. The case was slung on to the pier. The steward referred to the captain, who spoke English, and decided that the amount we had already paid included carriage to Lillehammer. They wished us good-by, and we left the vessel. A porter from one of the hotels, who came to us, placed the case on a truck, and we told him to take it up to our tents. Esmeralda came forward as we approached the camp. The gipsies were much pleased to see us again. Esmeralda said she knew we were on the steamer. Whilst we were talking, we caught sight of the truck and case going up the road from the lake to the town of Lillehammer. Noah and ourselves went after it, and soon after Noah and the porter brought it to the tents. The case was a large wooden box of considerable weight. With much satisfaction we contemplated its arrival in camp. The tents were now actually pitched on the shore of the beautiful Mjösen Lake. Its calm waters, lovely in the eventide, and the quietude of nature, gave us one more glimpse of perfect happiness.
CHAPTER X.
“Let us rest a bit in our tent this fine evening to collect our memoranda from the note-book hurriedly pencilled. Yet it is not easy to withdraw the eye from the beautiful picture before us, framed by the curtains of our canvas boudoir.”—The Rob Roy on the Jordan.
OUR FIRST CAMP—CAMP VISITORS—GIPSY MUSIC—FOREIGN TABLEAU—CURIOUS OBSERVATIONS—PREPARATIONS FOR DEPARTURE—EARLY START—LAING’S SUGGESTIONS—THE GUDBRANSDALEN—THE HUNNEFOS—THE AUSTRALIAN MEAT—CAMP RULES—THE PAIR OF GLOVES—SUDDEN SHADOWS—OUR TALISMAN—NEW FRIENDS.