It rained in the morning, and we could not attempt a mountain ascent. About nine o’clock we had breakfast, and sent Noah and Zachariah off to the Rauma fishing for our commissariat. We had tea, boiled milk, and fladbröd and butter for breakfast. The gipsies caught some fish for dinner,—Noah 10 and Zachariah 9, one being a grayling one foot two inches long. The morning was showery, and we wrote letters in our tent to post at Veblungsnœs; Esmeralda was cooking dinner. We noticed a young lady looking at our donkeys with the peasant boy from her stolkjærre; very soon afterwards she came up to our tents, with her three sisters and a tall young gentleman, her brother,—he did not appear in very strong health. They spoke to Esmeralda, and then looked into our tent, where we were writing our letters, we bowed, and they seemed rather surprised at the interior comfort of our tent. Then taking one of our gipsy songs, we presented it to one of the young ladies; she seemed much pleased at the unexpected present, and they tried to sing it to a tune. Taking our guitar we sang them the song; their brother took off his hat when we concluded. As we were sitting in our tent, they sang a Norwegian song very nicely together. The incident gave us much pleasure, as it was unexpected; one sister spoke English, she had a brother a clergyman on board some vessel in England, so Esmeralda informed us. They had not long left when the boy came back with the song, and a note on the back in pencil with Miss M.’s compliments, asking us to kindly write our name and date on back of song: we did so, and they went off in the direction of Ormein. After our dinner of fried fish, tea, fladbröd and butter, the gipsies were sent off fishing. The woman of the nearest house, which we understood was called “Monge,” brought a jacket to sell to Esmeralda; the purchase of two marks worth of fladbröd was preferred instead. During the afternoon we wrote letters, and after tea our correspondence still continued until 9 o’clock. The peasants again came, and our music commenced; this evening Zachariah with the violin, ourself guitar, Esmeralda castanets, and Noah tambourine. Our music is certainly improved. The people seemed to live very hard in this valley. One of the peasant boys, a lively little fellow, picked up a number of English words; we were asked for another song, and they left at 10 o’clock. After 10 o’clock the rain ceased, and the mist cleared away, and the night was beautiful; we had a serious consultation about our future route after we had reached Veblungsnœs. On looking at our maps, it was quite clear we had a very short time to accomplish the distance to Christiansand; still we did not like to give it up, and decided that if we could get over some mountain track from Gryten to Skeaker we might yet reach Christiansand before the end of the summer.
The morning was fine, we were up about 7 o’clock, and bought from the woman of the nearest house some very nice thin sweet fladbröd cakes, stamped in relief, for one mark, and also some cream for 12 skillings. A man came, and we paid him what he required, 36 skillings, for our camp accommodation on his ground. The tents being struck, and the donkeys loaded, we were en route about 10 o’clock; before we reached the station of Horgheim we were overtaken by the Miss M——s and their brother; they had been to see the waterfall near Ormein; we came up with them again at Horgheim, and asked their advice about our route from Veblungsnœs over the mountains. In answer to our inquiries, they said gipsies were sometimes seen about Veblungsnœs; when they were told our gipsies’ names and ages, they were much pleased with the name of Esmeralda. The young lady, who spoke English, said that Mr. Sundt had interested himself very much with the gipsies, and had written upon the subject. We told them we had a résumé of Prœsten Sundt’s works, and were also very much interested on behalf of the gipsy people.
TROLDTINDERNE,
MAGICIANS’ OR WITCHES’ PEAKS.
They told us they were going to take steamer at Veblungsnœs, and passed us soon after we left Horgheim. As we followed the road round the base of the Romsdalshorn, we came to some waste ground open to the road, and partly covered with bushes. The donkeys were driven to a shady spot near a small stream of water. The Magician’s peaks rose immediately above us; at irregular intervals, we heard about its summits a noise like distant thunder, the sound was produced by falling masses of snow loosened by the summer sun; we could almost imagine ourselves in the Catskill Mountains, where Rip Van Winkle met Hudson and his spectre band. A witchery seemed to hang about those grey fantastic peaks. The middags-mad consisted of fried cheese, tea, fladbröd and butter, and potted tongue. We can assure our readers that few can realize the luxury of lounging on soft mossy turf, after a pleasant meal, though simple it may be, near a rippling stream, shaded from the mid-day sun, at the foot of lofty and picturesque mountains. Half listless and dreamy, We gazed on the singular outlines of the Magician’s peaks; a thousand spells of enchantment seemed to chain the spirit to an absence from all care, trouble, anxiety, and woe, which is wearing to the grave three parts of the mortals of this world! All our gipsies were at once in a delicious state of unconsciousness, in tumbled heaps, as part of the baggage, lying on the turf around.
CHAPTER XXIV.
“For the dance, no music can be better than that of a gipsy band; there is a life and animation in it which carries you away. If you have danced to it yourself, especially in a czardas, then to hear the stirring tones without involuntarily springing up, is, I assert, an absolute impossibility.”[64]
Boner’s Transylvania.
THE INVALID—RESTIVE DONKEYS—FIVA—AAK—VEBLUNGSNŒS—THE NORWEGIAN FARMER—THE GRASSY KNOLL—A NORWEGIAN TOWN—THE FJORD’S SHORE—THE VEBLUNGSNŒS’ BATHS—HERR SOLBERG—HOMME GALANT—MUSICAL CONVERSAZIONE—GIPSY MUSIC.
Supremely happy in our wandering existence, we contrasted, in our semi-consciousness of mind, our absence from a thousand anxious cares, which crowd upon the social position, of those who take active part, in an overwrought state of extreme civilization. How long we should have continued our half-dormant reflections, which might have added a few more notes upon the philosophy of life, we know not, but we were roused by the rumble of a stolkjærre along the road; it was quite time we moved on towards Veblungsnœs, and the gipsies began to get our things together. The stolkjærre stopped. A tall pale invalid man descended; he struggled through the bushes to where we were, though the exertion evidently cost him much, but he conquered; he came, and he saw the donkeys. A faint smile lighted up a countenance, expressive in its deep-lined features, of a once firm and determined will, but now marked with the last stage of consumption. Enveloped and wrapped up in dark clothes, wearing gloves, long boots nearly to his knees, although in the height of summer, he surveyed with a quiet smile our donkeys, ourselves, our gipsies, and our baggage. He had a female with him whose countenance was the exact expression of anxious care, and a young man who seemed astonished at the weight of the baggage. What was to be done to show our hospitality. Lucky thought; out came the quinine, a small tumbler filled with water, and the white powder was mixed in it; we intimated that it might be of benefit. Poor fellow! he wanted a strength-giving potent draught; it could do him no harm, it might do him some good. Taking a sip ourselves, and handing it to him, he drank it every spot. How did he know that, like Rip Van Winkle, he might not have fallen in with another Hudson and his band, and would sleep for twenty years beneath the shadow of the Magician’s peaks. The tall, careworn-looking man handed me back the glass, and seemed much pleased. We gave him the tin cannister which had contained our potted tongue, with all the wonderful hieroglyphics generally scrolled outside: it was a parting souvenir of the nomads. Just as he had turned to go, the tarno-rye made a dash through the bushes, with Zachariah and Esmeralda dragging, fighting and struggling with him; crash, crash went the bushes close by us; the invalid was nearly frightened out of his boots. What did he know about these animals, and what habits of ferocity they might possess? The contention was fierce between the tarno-rye and our gipsies, until he was brought to the baggage for loading. The invalid struggled, with unsteady gait, through the bushes, and, with the aid of his female attendant, ascended with difficulty into his stolkjærre, which was immediately driven away. He escaped the fate of Rip Van Winkle; may the draught he took under the Magician’s peaks give him health for twenty years. Some young woodcutters, with axes in their hands, came up as we were starting; they accompanied us along the road. On our left across the Rauma, we noticed a large pleasant residence called “Fiva.” The woodcutters said it was the property and residence of Mr. Bromley Davenport and a Mr. Ingram. They must have a splendid view from the house toward the Romsdalshorn; we were informed that three farms had been purchased by the owner along the banks of the Rauma, which made the fishing very complete. The salmon in the Rauma do not ascend above Ormein. The situation of “Fiva” is admirable; the various bends and windings of the river round the estate are full of rapids and pools, that would have delighted the English father of all anglers, Isaac Walton.