“‘Well, sir, he’s always the same,’ I answered, and the son gave me a cigar, whilst the gentleman sent his kind regards to you, sir.”
Our camp rules were relaxed, and Noah was of course allowed on this occasion to smoke. We continued our way up a narrow gorge between high mountains, but did not find any convenient camping-ground. In the distance we saw log houses near the river Logan. These were Storklevstad, Viig, and Qvam. As we descended the road we noticed a rough narrow way on our right, with a telegraph post in the centre. Zachariah went and reported that it led to a large common extending to mountains beyond. Esmeralda and myself were at first inclined to continue our route. As we were considering, a young man having the appearance of a carpenter came by, and we asked him if we could camp there. He said “Ya, ya,” and the lane being too narrow, and awkward for the donkeys to go up loaded, the man helped us, very kindly, to unload our heavy packs, and assisted us to carry them to a rock on the common; we gave him two demi vers of brandy. The distance we had travelled had been long, the weather seemed inclined for rain, and we were glad to get in for night quarters. This corner of the common was bounded by hedges. Under a thick high hedge on the common side we made a fire, and our tea was soon ready, with ham fried in oil, and bread. Noah came in time for tea, and, selecting a camping-ground on the common, put up the tent-rods. The moorland, extending up a mountain, was covered with large masses of rock and low bushes. Visitors soon came. An old man with a wallet gave our donkeys some bread whilst we were at tea, and we gave him some brandy. Women and children came, and were very civil. Our tents were soon pitched, and arranged, and our things carefully stowed away. The waterproof was so placed over our tents, that our visitors were obliged to sit down, in order to see us through the opening.
Noah searched for his tambourine, but it could not be found, to his consternation; we came to the conclusion that it must have been left on the hedge bank near the water trough. Noah was loud in his lamentation, when a peasant suddenly brought it to the tent. We had left it where we supposed, and the peasant honestly restored the tambourine. We gave him a good recompense with many thanks, though he did not seem to wish any money reward. We had seldom met such kindly people. Gladly we commenced playing our music, and having recovered all our things, we were much pleased to find ourselves in a comfortable camping-ground for the night. Scarcely had we commenced playing, than the crowd of people increased round our tents. It was as much as we could do to keep them from crushing the tents in. One little man in spectacles, and a curious turned-up hat, with a knowing comical expression of countenance, came crawling into our tent on all fours. First he looked up at Noah, then at Zachariah, then at Esmeralda, and then at myself. We did not stop our playing. He put up his finger as a signal for us to stop, but we could not interrupt the tune. Then he expectorated freely on the intervening space in our tents; fortunately, that part was only turf, but the absence of saliva was at all times preferred. Then he stared curiously through his spectacles, being still on his hands and knees. Some village magnate, thought we. Then he suddenly summoned all his energy, and asked loudly all kinds of questions in Norwegian, whilst we continued our music. We thought he was slightly intoxicated, but it may have been an eccentricity of manner. He seemed to know some words of English. Noah said “Don’t know” to most questions. We could distinguish the word Tater, and Noah said “shoemaker,” and nodding at Zachariah, “cobbler.” Then he addressed some question to ourself, to which we answered “Nei, nei.” “Jeg gaae Romsdalen,” still persevering, he pointed to Esmeralda, who was rattling her tambourine, and he seemed specially anxious to know what part she took in the economy of the tents. At last he was quiet for a short time, and some one who did not like his attempted interruption of the music, pulled him out by his legs. Alas! he soon returned, crawling in again to the tent, expectorating as usual. Noah seemed his grand point of attack. Addressing Noah, he pointed to us with a look of triumphant discovery, and said, “Artistique,” but Noah did not seem to comprehend.
We are afraid his pertinacity met with very little reward. A considerable number of persons continued round our tents, and we finished music towards 10 o’clock. Then our visitors wanted more music. It was very complimentary to our musical talent, but we did not play after 10 o’clock. One young man who spoke some English, came to us, and asked to have more music. We explained that we had been up at 2 o’clock that morning, and did not allow music after 10 o’clock, and wanted to go to bed. Our visitors did not go for some time, but kept talking, and making a noise, until nearly 11, when we gladly fell asleep.
Another Sunday. We welcomed the day as we ate our breakfast of tea, potted meat, and bread. Then the word was given that the gorgios[47] were a vellin. Many visitors soon collected, who were so curious, that one of our party had to stand at the entrance to the tents during the morning. A young man in long riding boots and horseman’s cloak, with a whip in his hand, speaking English and German, informed us that an English captain would shortly pass if we liked to see him. We said if he were going to Lillehammer he might render us a service. An intelligent young Norwegian peasant said he would let us know, when the captain came along the road. We conversed some portion of the morning with our visitors, and added to our knowledge of Norsk language.
At last the young Norwegian came and said the captain was come. We took Noah and the young peasant with us, and started towards the village of “Qvam.” After a sharp walk we reached a post station on the road side near the river, and leaving Noah and the peasant in the large kitchen with a bottle of “Baiersk Öl,” we went into an inner room to see the captain.
The officer, whom we expected to find an Englishman, was Norwegian. The French language was at once our medium of communication. We quickly explained that we had lost two hats between the Honnefos and Moshuus, and if en passant he heard of them, we were anxious to have them forwarded to Nystuen, and a handsome reward would be given. He looked at our route on the map. Monsieur le Capitaine was just going to dinner; a fine pink trout was served up. The captain asked us if we were going to dine, but was informed that our dinner waited us at the camp. He said he should be happy to inquire, and should meet us next morning, when he was returning. The captain spoke French very well, and at first sight we should have taken him for a French officer. There was a gentlemanly frankness about him which pleased us. Although not tall, he was of compact build, strong, and energetic, much indication of prompt and rapid action—one prone to vigour of thought, and quickness of decision. He possessed the bearing of a military man. We regretted we could not see more of him. Giving him our card, and shaking hands, we parted.
Noah and the Norwegian were allowed another bottle of “Baiersk Öl” on our return to the kitchen, and taking a sip to drink “gamle norge,” we immediately left.
The peasant returned with us. At a short distance from our camp, the village magnate came forth from a house, still wearing his curious turned-up hat. The little man seemed rather pleased to see us. As he advanced with a comical expression of countenance, he appeared to have something of importance to communicate. We politely paused a moment. He wanted to—to—“sell us a cheese!”
The peasant took a share of our dinner which was ready in camp. We were obliged to take our dinner inside our tents, on account of the number of visitors. They were never absent. It was a matter of conjecture whether they ever ate anything themselves; they seemed to be at our camp from morning till night. Our sensations were probably similar to those formerly experienced by the lions in Wombwell’s well-known menagerie, when viewed at feeding time.