Noah and Esmeralda waltzed together, and the couples who danced increased. The young men who danced were not many; the beau of the village, (and we always had one at all our peasant re-unions) was very active. We shall never forget, his good-tempered chubby face, and country bumpkin appearance, as he spun round in large low shoes, and worsted stockings, voluminous trowsers, and short jacket, which did not reach below his waist. The proportions of his Dutch build, were shown to advantage. It must have been warm work, as he puffed in his thick cloth snuff-coloured suit. If we looked through a powerful microscope at the fat boy in “Pickwick” we should see our friend exactly represented. He was Wackford Squeers’s sample schoolboy on a large scale. We can see him now in the open track of the forest at closing eve, with that stout young peasant girl of the Rubens style of beauty, twirling in an agony of exertion as Noah executed a roulade on the tambourine; we liked to see him, and his dancing was no doubt the envy of those peasants, who would have done likewise, if they could.
At half-past 9 our music ceased; several peasants pressed us to continue; the beau of the village even went so far as to offer us four skillings—he was, no doubt, a rich landed proprietor—of course we politely refused with mange tak (Nor., many thanks). Our heart at once relented—we have danced ourselves. The beau of the village, was again in his element, as a whale is at sea. They had got into step; we had found out the tunes they liked. At 10 o’clock our music again ceased. Wishing them good-night, we retired. Several peasants came to see the tents, one asked for more music, but finding we did not respond, the last group took off their hats, and left.
The peasants had not long departed, when down came Noah in haste to our camp: “The merles (donkeys) are gone, sir,” said the gipsy. Noah could see how it was. The ropes were left, and the men who had told us that it was a better place for grass, had only done so to steal them. We could not bring ourselves to suspect our friends, the Norwegian peasants, whom we had just been entertaining as our visitors, and who were always so kind, and friendly with us.
We immediately went with Esmeralda in search of our missing donkeys. Taking a track through the forest, we met some peasant children, to whom, with some difficulty, we explained that the donkeys were gone. They seemed to divine our thoughts, “Nei, nei,” said one little girl, pointing to a particular part of the wood, and as she was coming with us, a shout from Noah, and Zachariah, informed us they were safe. The peasants had kindly moved them to a better spot for grass. When the gipsies had tethered one of the donkeys, which they usually did, they returned to the tents. Noah said some of the peasants were still gazing at our merles.
The thermometer had been 74° during the day.
Sleep, who could sleep? Myriads of musketos had invaded our tents. We were all dreadfully bitten. Sleeping in a rug bag, our face only suffered. Our forehead was one mass of small swellings. We were all up at 2 o’clock in the morning. In the tent or out of the tent it was all the same.
Grievous were the complaints as we ate our breakfast. Wildly Zachariah flourished his Norwegian knife, as the enemies of his comfort attacked him on every side. In vain he vowed vengeance against the “skeatos.” We were determined not to endure the persecutions of our numerous tormentors any longer. The morning was cloudy, with drizzling rain. Striking our tents, we loaded our donkeys, and a little before 6 o’clock left the forest, and Losnœs en route for Listad. Near a beautiful lake, we passed two hamlets, at each of which our cavalcade occasioned great excitement. New and varied scenes met us at each turn, as we now left far behind us the town of Lillehammer, and the picturesque shores of the Mjösen Vand. It was astonishing the interest our donkeys occasioned. Here and there as we passed along, people rushed from their various pursuits, to get a glimpse of our party. One woman ran after us, and eagerly asked if the donkeys eat grass, at the same time plucking some from the road side, that we might better understand her question. At one place, we purchased four loaves of bread, and a pound of butter for 1s. 3d. Esmeralda at the same time tried to buy a stardy (gip. for hat) to replace those lost, but could not get one. At length we reached a large wet marshy valley, and met some men with long poles tipped with iron hooks. Soon afterwards a gentleman driving a carriole overtook us, and asked Noah if we were Italians. Finding he spoke English, we went up to him, and he told us he was from Scotland. Telling him we were travelling à l’aise with our tents and baggage, the novelty of the idea seemed to delight him, and bowing, he continued his journey. The end of the marshy valley, through which the Logan still held its course, was at length reached. On the side of a large projecting mass of rock, on the road side, near a stream of water, we found a large open space of ground, strewn with loose rocks. Part of the baggage was taken off the donkeys, who foraged about in rocks for scanty herbage. Lighting a fire, we had tea, bread, sardines, and Australian meat. The men with the poles again made their appearance with increased number. They drew up in line, and having grounded their poles, stood at ease. First they stared at ourselves and gipsies, as we rested near our baggage, and then at our donkeys. There were nine of them, of all sizes, and miscellaneous costumes. They were timber floaters. Their long poles were used to push the logs of timber adrift, when they stuck fast on the sides of the river. Quantities of timber cut down in the forests, and marked, finds transit in this way to the sea. As we were writing our notes, we also made a rough sketch of the men. A boy soon afterwards came, and said something in Norwegian about a quarter of a mile, which we at last understood to mean a convenient camping ground at that distance beyond us. Several other people came, and stood in the road, gazing at the donkeys, as they wandered about the rocks.
TIMBER-FLOATERS.—MID-DAY HALT.
The sun was now brilliant; the scene was particularly beautiful. Our gipsies after lunch fell into a sound sleep.