After dinner Esmeralda, who had washed and dressed herself in her robe with silver buttons, accompanied us for a quiet stroll to the shores of the lake; her brothers were left in charge of the tents. The distance was not very far. Seated on a wooded knoll above the shores of the lake, we watched its silvery waters and the picturesque outline of the Kjölen mountain; its patches of snow near the summit were not yet melted by the summer’s sun. How enjoyable was life in the wild mountains near the smooth lake whose silvered waters seem ever smiling; all seemed in repose as we breathed the pure air of heaven. The lake, we understood, was called the Logan Vand. A peasant woman, at a house near the lake, asked us to come in, both going and returning, but we preferred the open air.
We returned to tea at about seven o’clock. A large number of peasants were scattered in all directions about our camp and round the donkeys. Four eggs were boiled for our tea, with bread and butter. After tea, we presented our friend, the boy who spoke English, with “Views of Jerusalem and its Environs.” The boy read a passage, vivâ voce, from it in English with great correctness and good accent; the present pleased him very much, and we were glad we had thought of giving it to him. If we spoke to a peasant a crowd immediately collected round us. It appeared to disappoint them that music was not permitted, but we were quite firm.
At nine o’clock we wished them good night; still they remained, and a large number kept wandering round our tents. Some few lighted a fire of juniper; the smoke blew towards our tents, and Noah rushed out with an alpenstock and put it out.
The hum of voices at length became less distinct, and we were thinking of retiring to rest. Esmeralda was already partly asleep behind her tent partition, we were seated opposite our gipsies, when another party came up from the road. One was upwards of six feet high, and dressed differently from the peasants’ usual costume—a tall young fellow with a very long pipe. The waterproof cover was arranged so that the entrance to our tent was only about two feet high; the tall visitor, who seemed to have been enjoying himself, and was rather unsteady, lay down on the turf, so that he could see us. At first he said to Noah, “Spille a little,” meaning that we should play. Then he turned to us, “You speak English?” But when we spoke to him, he said, “I cannot understand you.” Then he asked Noah if he spoke Norsk. Noah’s knowledge of the Norsk language was still very limited. Our tall visitor, whiffing his pipe in a half-fuddled state, kept saying in English, “I have beautiful girls, mony, mony—you have beautiful girls.” We said, “Nei, nei.” And as he said something about “den asen,” we pointed in their direction, and he went off with his friends to see them. We thought they were gone, when our tall Norwegian suddenly came back again, and lay down on the turf. After a pause he said, “Spille a little;” and then said, “I hear you have beautiful girl; I should like to see her. I have beautiful girls—mony, mony.” He tried to pull the curtain aside, but we prevented him, with “Nei, nei.” In vain we wished him good night; still he kept saying occasionally, “You have beautiful girl, I have heard; I will show you my beautiful girls—I have beautiful girls, mony, mony.” His friends, however, seemed anxious to get him away, and at last, with some reluctance, he left our tents, probably to join the beautiful girls, of which he said he had mony, mony.
At the last moment, before going to bed, we strolled out in the stillness of the night. We were just at the moment standing in the shadow of some firs, when we observed the figure of a man advancing noiselessly towards the tents. When he saw them, he retired, and soon after returned, followed by another man. We could only just discern the two figures as they advanced, step by step, cautiously towards the tents. They paused. Very probably they thought we were all fast asleep, and did not wish to disturb us. They stood for some short time gazing motionless at the tents, and then retired as quietly as they came.
At half-past five o’clock we were again bustling about. More peasants came even at that early hour. The man from the house near the lake brought six trout, which we bought for six skillings. An old woman brought some grass for the donkeys. One woman brought milk, but too late for breakfast; not being able to carry it with us, we did not buy it. An old peasant woman, with a peasant man in a red cap, wanted us to play some music for them. They looked disappointed, when we said we were going off at once.
It commenced to rain when we were packing, and we were anxious to proceed on our wanderings. We turned from our camp to the road, and bade adieu to our peasant friends, whom we left sitting in the rain, looking at our now-deserted camp.
Proceeding up the valley, the views were pleasing. The rain was not heavy. At Motterud a curious old mill attracted our attention. Passing through the hamlet of Moseneden, as we understood it to be, we reached the open forest just beyond, and halted on the right of the road. Our middags-mad consisted of tea, fried fish, fladbröd, and butter. Some peasant girls watched us at a distance in the forest. A jolly, pleasant old man came to us, and a boy, with a large hump on his chest instead of his back. The order was given to load, but no donkeys could be found; fortunately a stream of water between two deep banks at some distance gave us a clue to the direction they had gone.
After some trouble, and a hint from the jolly peasant, the donkeys were found near the hamlet of Moseneden, on the borders of the forest, and brought back. When Noah was loading the puru rawnee we presented the jolly peasant with an oil bottle just emptied. The peasant seemed very pleased with his sudden acquisition of fortune, and showed it to the peasant girls, who brought down a Norwegian fox for us to see.
The girls had the fox fastened by a chain. It is called a “Rœv” in Norwegian, and is smaller than the English fox, being rather lighter in colour. Foxes are very numerous in some parts of Norway. The peasant did not smoke, but the usual discussion took place about the donkeys.