We sent a telegram to the Chevalier to announce our safe arrival; another to Kongsberg, for our letters to be sent to Lom. It was also mentioned to us that Herr Solberg, of Molde, wished very much to take photographs of our donkeys and camp, if we would kindly consent. We were even offered some copies without charge, as an inducement. The news of the day was also important; for the first time we learned that France and Prussia had declared war, and England would be neutral. Before we left we purchased a large quantity of bread, which Noah took into his possession. Leaving the quiet little town, we at length approached our tents, where we found two Norwegian officers seated in cheerful mood talking to Esmeralda at the tent entrance.
They were gayety itself as they reclined on the green turf. One officer, who seemed about sixty, had all the manners of the “homme galant,” and spoke some English. When they saw me they at once rose, saluted, and left. Esmeralda said the older officer, who spoke some English, was very polite, and said to her, “How do you manage with four men?” To which she answered, “I have only three men.” Then the officer said, “Who do you talk to most—I suppose your beloved Mr. Smith?” Esmeralda said she did not talk to anyone. The officer then wanted to purchase a lock of her hair; but she would not let him have any. We cannot venture to dwell on his feelings of cruel disappointment.
We were much pressed by the people of the farm to give them some music in a large room, probably used as a granary. We went to see it first. The room was large and lofty on the ground-floor. We consented to play for them at nine o’clock. The farmer himself we saw very seldom, and it is scarcely probable that he originated the idea.
An English gentleman staying at Aak, who had been to the telegraph office, came to our camp, and sat down in our tents. From his intimate knowledge of Norway, he was able to give us considerable information. It was very fortunate. We presented him with a copy of our gipsy song, before he left, as a souvenir of our camp.
At nine o’clock, chairs having been placed for us, we took our seats and commenced playing, ourself the guitar, Noah the tambourine, and Zachariah his violin. We had a large party—unexpectedly so, some of the officers and their wives, and many of the principal inhabitants of Veblungsnœs; and we had not anticipated more persons than the people of the bondegaard. Esmeralda was left in charge of the tents; but our visitors had so much delicacy that directly we left the tent no one went near it. What a scene! The room was suddenly filled with dancers and visitors. One tall young officer, a fine young fellow, was especially active. We had a favourite polka for them, which we afterwards christened “Veblungsnœs.” Zachariah put all his gipsy nerve and feeling into his music. Nay, our Romany Boshamengro, almost rivalled, if he did not surpass, Barna Mihali, the celebrated gipsy Violinist of Hungary.[66] Even Orpheus might have bit his lips; but he was not there. All that wild gipsy inspiration could do, was done—tones that produced a whirl of sensation. Noah did his part stoutly on the tambourine. We made the acquaintance of several very pleasant officers and others—one or two we had met in our wanderings. They seemed like old friends.
Then Esmeralda came and played, in place of Noah, with her tambourine. Between the dances we conversed as well as we could with the officers and other visitors. Mr. L. was also there. The Norwegian officers have much military smartness about them. Many of them can speak French or English, and sometimes both. We always found them gentlemen. The Militia officers receive regular pay all the year; their men are only paid whilst on duty. The Militia men we saw, were fine strong young men, capable of any amount of endurance. Such was our introduction to the inhabitants of Veblungsnœs. We saw almost as much of them, as if we had made a series of visits to their houses. At the same time we had escaped the inconvenience of too much hospitality, and still more, of being obliged to sit in close warm rooms, which, to one accustomed to the natural saloons of the wild forest, is at any time a very severe penance. In the clear light of a Norwegian evening, the younger people danced to the strains of our wild music; others looked on, and conversed; all seemed to enjoy themselves. Ten o’clock came: our music ceased. Specially requested, as we left, we seated ourselves on a slope of turf near our tents, and sang, “The Gipsy Song,” with guitar accompaniment. They seemed pleased. With many adieux, they left. So ended what may be termed our gipsy conversazione at Veblungsnœs.
CHAPTER XXV.
Where is the little gipsy’s home?
Under the spreading greenwood tree,
Wherever she may roam,
Where’er that tree may be;
Roaming the world o’er,
Crossing the deep blue sea,
She finds on every shore
A home among the free!
A home among the free,
Ah, voilà la gitana, voilà la gitana.
Drama, of “Notre Dame.” By Halliday.
PURCHASES—ZACHARIAH’S TROUBLE—ESMERALDA’S PHOTOGRAPH—THE KIÖD—PRICE OF MEAT—THE YACHTSMEN—THE THREE PEAKS—THE SPIRIT-WORLD—FROST BITES—ULTIMA THULE—ESMERALDA GALVANISED—THE FJORD—HEEN KIRKE—PARELIUS—EIDER DUCKS—BEAUTIFUL BOUQUETS.