THE NEW TENT POLE—WHAT IS INDIGESTION?—PEASANTS AT CAMP—A NEW FRIEND—HOLIAKER STATION—NORWEGIAN HONESTY—LŒSJE VAND—THE TETTERAMENGRY—AN UNSOLVED MYSTERY—THE GIPSY COLLAPSE—GOOD ADVICE—INTEREST IN DONKEYS—A MOUNTAIN DISTRICT—NO CHURCH BELLS—THE BOY’S QUESTIONS—THE KJÖLEN FJELDENE.
The old man presently brought a new tent pole, for which we paid sixteen skillings. We had left Dombaas about half-past 5 o’clock. Our present camp was called by the people, “Losere.” A few peasants came to our tents, and we must say presented a starved and worn appearance. They were a kind people, and brought us firewood. We had bread, butter, cold bacon, and tea. The peasants were told they could have some music when our meal was ended. How we enjoyed the evening scene when the peasants approached our fire! and we invited them, as usual, in our well got-up phrase in Norwegian, “Ver so artig tage en stole” (Be so good as to take a seat), pointing to the turf, which was the only seat we could offer them. The moon rose upon the summits and ranges of distant mountains beyond the valley. Its pale rays gleamed in the still night on the waters of the Logan. Nature was lovely in all her beauty. As our bivouac fire glimmered on the peasants’ hard-worn countenances, furrowed with lines of hardship, we could observe the pleasure which our music gave them. Wild though it was, it seemed to suit time, place, and circumstance. The violin, tambourine, castanets, and guitar are admirably adapted for the minstrelsy of the wanderer’s life. As our music ended they left, and we retired to our tents. The ground was high; the night was cold; we had little shelter; but we were now habituated to camp life, and did not feel any inconvenience. Our sleep was ever deep and refreshing. If any of our party had been asked, “What is indigestion?” we could not have given them any decisive answer.
The morning was fine and beautiful, as we rose at 7 o’clock. From the mountain where we had camped we could see Holiaker. Our breakfast consisted of tea, and bread and butter; at Dombaas we had given our gipsies citric acid and water; it is a substitute for vegetables, which we had not been able to procure since we left the Mjösen Lake. Zachariah had refused to take any citric acid until he reached Dombaas; whether it was from want of vegetables we could not tell, but what with musketos, insects of various kinds, and possibly the want of vegetables, his skin was irritable to an uncomfortable degree, especially at night. This irritation of the skin we have known before in camp life. A friend of ours tenting with us the year before, had suffered very much from similar irritation of the skin not the result of musketo bites; sometimes we thought it was nettlerash, but in two or three days after our friend had quitted the tents the irritation had disappeared. In Zachariah’s case the gipsies and ourself thought he had been bitten by creas (gip. ants) or that musketos might have occasioned it; then it was assigned to want of vegetables or impurity of the blood. Should any one of our readers be able to suggest the cause and remedy we should be much obliged for their communication. In this case, as the Cushty Drabengro of the party, we prescribed citric acid, which we carried in crystals, and dissolved in water. One peasant brought a large basket of hay for the donkeys, for which we paid a mark. The basket conveniently fitted on the back like a knapsack. Before we left our camp, we thought it might be well to buy a sheep, for we had not purchased any meat since we left Christiania, and it might be prudent to save our commissariat.
We explained to the peasants by aid of our dictionary, and they seemed to understand our wishes, but whether they were afterwards unable to procure the sheep, or did not distinctly comprehend, is doubtful, for our negotiations were without result. Zachariah and Esmeralda played a few airs for the peasants whilst Noah loaded the donkeys.
Soon after we left our camp the route lay between enclosures. No lack of excitement on all sides; at one house a stout good-tempered woman and a dark good-humoured seafaring-looking man, probably her husband, came out.
Finding we wished to purchase something to eat, he went with us along the road to the Holiaker station.
Whether he was the master, or a friend of the house we could not decide. In the large clean kitchen he conversed with a tall, respectable, delicate-looking woman. At first she began to make coffee for us; then we explained through the seafaring man we did not want coffee, but bread, butter, and eggs; then she commenced to boil the water for the eggs. At last we made her understand that what we purchased the gipsies would take with them.
The donkeys were brought down to the station door, and we bought a quantity of fladbröd, twelve eggs, some potatoes, 5½ lbs. of what appeared to be the shoulder of very dry wasted-looking mutton, and some salt. It was proposed to have some treacle, but we could not find the Norwegian word in the dictionary.
As we put the different things we bought down in our note book, our seafaring-looking friend priced them; an old man came in whilst we were there, and our gipsies took the things to the donkeys. Whether we misunderstood the weight of the mutton, we cannot tell, but we gave him eight marks five skillings, though we thought the price rather high. Upon counting it, they honestly said we had made a mistake, and returned three marks; they also, we found, gave us the salt and six eggs into our bargain; many lands we have travelled, but never have we met with a more honest race of people than the Norwegians. Our things being packed away by the gipsies, we shook hands with these honnêtes gens.
The idea occurred to us that they took us for a wandering artist. Farewell, honest people! For some time they watched us from the house, as we went along the road towards Holiaker church.