The valley now became more fertile. We passed through pleasant grassy meads. Our woodcutters went to some houses on the roadside. We met several stolkjærrers, whose horses were rather shy in passing our donkeys. The peasants manifested the same curiosity about them. Now the valley assumed a more smiling aspect, and we came in sight of Aak “Lehnsmœnd,” Andreas Landmark’s House. The Hotel Aak is seven miles from Horgheim, and three from Veblungsnœs. As we saw the comfortable wooden house standing on a rise of ground above the road, with a diversity of green slopes and shady woods about it, we knew it to be the spot mentioned by Lady Diana Beauclerk in such high terms of commendation. In contrast with the wild valleys we had left, it seemed a sort of oasis in the desert.
When we passed Aak, some ladies who saw our party ran down from the house to see us; but a turn of the road soon hid us from them. Crossing two bridges, and passing a large comfortable house, we ascended the steep hill to a rise of ground above Veblungsnœs. Then passing through a gate upon the road, we saw a quiet lane through some waste ground covered with bushes, where we told Esmeralda and Zachariah to stay with the donkeys. Taking Noah, we went to reconnoitre for a camping ground. Very soon we came to the edge of the descent to Veblungsnœs. Pausing a moment to look at the wooden church and town below, we went to the left, across a large space of open ground used as a drill-ground for the Militia; and, after looking at a large wooden building erected for military stores, we went down a lane to a gate, through which we saw several men and women raking up new-mown hay. This quiet spot formed a sort of knoll, above a small dingle, at the back of the bondegaard.
A green slope, and wooded mountain, rose abruptly from the other side of the stream. This seemed a haven of rest, as Veblungsnœs was to be our farthest point of travel north, our Ultima Thule. At once we entered, and going up to the farmer’s son, as we rightly took him to be, we proposed to come there and camp. Very much astonished he seemed. When he recovered his breath, he said something about his father, and went with us towards the bondegaard. The farmer’s house was of the better class, and substantially built of wood. We entered a kind of family room, where the master and his wife were seated at table, taking milk, and raw dried salmon cut in slices on their fladbröd. The bonde was dressed in dark clothes, being upwards of sixty; of respectable appearance, weather-worn countenance, with sharp angular features, at once expressive of shrewdness and cupidity. In social relations of life, he was a very respectable man. Of generosity he had none in his composition—one who would drive a hard bargain to the uttermost farthing.
The farmer came with us to the gate in a sort of bewildered state. It was a fine scene as he came along with his son and a retinue of peasants and peasant girls holding rakes in their hands. Then there was the consultation at the gate opening to the junction of two deserted lanes. Our imperfect Norsk was aided by signs; but we plunged through, with Noah standing as a sort of aide-de-camp waiting for orders.
A consideration was mentioned. “Ah! a consideration! money penge! ha, money penge! The silver key!” The donkeys must be seen. Noah soon had them down with his peculiar whistle. The old man’s eyes twinkled as he surveyed them. A consideration! we saw crossing his mind, as the hero in Hans Breitman’s ballad, “He stood all shpell-pound.” The donkeys were driven up to the knoll, and our things were unloaded down.
“Well,” thought we, “if we have to pay, we shall have strict privacy—private ground!”
The hay was cleared off the knoll, the tents pitched; the donkeys were put up in the wood above the mown slope, on to the other side the dingle. Esmeralda said an officer, whom she designated as the Commandant of Veblungsnœs, had passed them near the gate, and was a very pleasant gentleman, who lived in the large house we had passed near the bridges.
Eggs and bread could not be purchased at the farm. Some visitors came to our tents after tea; amongst others, Mr. L., of the telegraph office, who said he should be glad to give us any assistance. Our visitors did not stay late, and we retired to rest at an early hour.
It is Friday, the 22nd July. The morning being wet, we did not rise very early. Taking Noah and Zachariah, we left our camp for Veblungsnœs, at about three o’clock in the afternoon. Passing from the bondegaard, across some open arable fields, to an avenue of trees, we entered under its shade into a small wooden town. Passing up the main street, we soon found ourselves in a kind of conglomeration of houses, with short lanes having no continuance. One open space represented a kind of square. Alleys, at occasional angles, debouched to the waters of the Isfjord, which partly surrounds the town. Veblungsnœs is the port of Romsdal. Though we could not account for it, we were at once interested in the place. There was a charm about its silent quaintness which made us linger with pleasure.
The telegraph office was closed till four o’clock. Veblungsnœs evidently was buried in its siesta. The siesta, or kief, in mid-day is claimed by the inhabitants of many northern countries. The tradesmen would be quite offended if you went to their shops in their mid-day hours of refreshment and repose. How different from the American style of one, two, gulp, and gone! No busy scenes or people met our view. The extreme quietude of the town seemed to communicate itself, and exercise its influence on the spirit. At times we imagined we were in a large ship or timber-yard, when the workmen had all gone to dinner. Strolling down a short alley, we were at once on the strand of the Isfjord. Walking along the water’s edge, we could not help admiring the beauty of the evening scene. No one was visible. One small fishing-boat, partly drawn up on the beach, was just ready for a cruise. Nets, everything—even the dried fish, probably the store of provisions for the fishermen till their return—were placed in order. Some curious-looking fish, probably rejected as unsaleable, were lying on the shingle. One had green eyes, with its mouth in its throat; two or three mouse-coloured fish, equally singular and repulsive, were thrown near. It is strange what deformity occurs in the fish creation. It is said that in a lake in Wales the fish are all deformed. We have not yet verified the fact. Returning to the telegraph office, we saw Mr. L. All that he could do to render our stay agreeable he did. Our future route was discussed, and it seemed quite clear that it would be impossible to reach Christiansand before the end of the summer season. The idea that our party might take baths next occurred to us; not that we expected to find anything approaching the accommodation or luxury of ancient Rome. Baths, containing hundreds of seats of marble, adorned with splendid frescoes, and whose fittings were of alabaster, porphyry, and jasper, where every luxury was found that human thought could devise.[65] What the baths of Veblungsnœs would have been we know not; but they had only one, the spreading waters of the Fjord, before us. The post-office was in the main street, and kept by polite and kindly people. The postage of each letter to England cost twelve skillings, and those to France fifteen skillings.