ADIEU AAK—ROMSDALSHORN—TROLDTINDERNE—FLADMARK—YOUNG-NORWEGIAN LADIES—OUR FAIR VISITORS—A NIGHT SCENE—MORNING MEAL—EXHAUSTED PEASANTS—ESMERALDA’S COMPLIMENT—A GIPSY CUISINE—HOW GIPSIES SLEEP—OUR GUIDE ARRIVES—THE INVISIBLE BATHER—THE RACE—THE RIVER GRÖNA.
We passed the quiet scenes of Aak and its beautiful scenery; we saw Captain C——, and some young ladies coming down to the road from the house. The charming terrace before the house and grounds are kept in excellent neatness and order. Frue Landmark also came down to see our donkeys again. Captain C. was going south, and might probably overtake us, but we did not see him again.[76] Very useful indeed was the information he gave us. Frue Landmark, whom we saw in earnest conversation with Esmeralda, presented her with some ear-rings. So we made our adieux to all, and left a spot so pleasantly described by Lady Di Beauclerk. Her ladyship is the daughter of the ninth Duke of St. Albans, whose first wife was Mrs. Coutts, the once celebrated Miss Mellon, whose interesting memoirs were published some years since.
The sun was very warm. We were all in excellent spirits; who could be otherwise in the midst of so much free life? Herr Solberg, the photographer, met us, apparently looking for a Point de Vue. Then we passed Fiva, and a short distance beyond we halted in the old place among the green bushes, by the rippling stream, at the foot of the Romsdalshorn and Troldtinderne. Our dinner consisted of some of the boiled beef, fried with butter. It was about twelve o’clock; Zachariah was despatched trout-fishing. Esmeralda was better; some quinine in the morning had spirited her up. She was not allowed to be idle. As we bustled her about, she said she thought the Rye was in a murmuring way. Then, as we lounged note-book in hand, we had a chaff at Noah, who was half asleep, and woke up looking very wild, to be asked, what he would take for his paper front, and collar, for which he had given four skillings. The front was now all but gone. “What you like, sir,” said Noah, and heaving a deep sigh, fell back into the region of gipsy dreams sounder than ever. We looked in vain for the invalid visitor who was to take the place of Rip Van Winkle, and somnolency resulting, who knows but we ourselves might not have been there now; but the good genii of the magician’s peaks awoke us. There were the dark fantastic rocks, streaked in gilded rays of the summer’s sun. The distant roar of thunder in the lofty precipices, produced by falling snow, sounded in the narrow gorge. Our donkeys had strayed; we aroused Noah from a deep sleep, who disappeared down the valley and brought them back. On his return, he said he had seen a number of gentlemen along the Rauma near Fiva, with guns and fishing-rods. It was nearly four o’clock. The donkeys were hastily loaded, and we were again en route. Zachariah was overtaken before we reached Horgheim, and had succeeded in catching twenty-three small trout. A young traveller and his wife came up in a stolkjœrre, and kept behind us till we got to Horgheim. They wanted us to stay there, so that they might get first on account of the donkeys, but we were pressed for time, and when they came up afterwards, their horse passed very quietly. The traveller, who was Norwegian, spoke English, and they appeared a newly-married couple. We passed our old camping-ground beyond “Horgheim,” and bought a mark’s worth of fladbröd from the woman of the house. Our old camp near the leaning-stone was our intended destination. At one part of the road we met a number of carrioles. A lady in a green Tyrolese hat and feather, who seemed unaccustomed to driving, was one of the party. As she passed, the pony shied, and the boy who stood upon the board behind her, with great quickness, seized the reins. “P-r-r-r-h—p-r-r-r-h,” said the boy, and away they dashed past us. The boy, afterwards, reined the pony up rather sharply; the pony reared, and the lady jumped out with a small scream; the gentleman we took for her husband bringing up the rear, passed quietly enough, and as no one was hurt, we again continued our way.
We passed Fladmark; our donkeys had not lost their interest to the peasantry; many collected to see them. Fladmark seems a large station and the scenery is very picturesque. In fact, at every turn we had fresh scenes to admire. When we had passed Kors and were drawing near our old camping ground, in passing through a gate on the road, our Puru Rawnee ran our packs against the gate-post, and broke a bottle of port wine. Noah and Zachariah caught some in the kettle lid, which they were allowed to drink. We did not feel inclined to take any ourselves. Esmeralda had a very small quantity, but the stimulant made her feel, she said, very queer. Then we followed on slowly with her, for she was rather tired, whilst Noah and Zachariah pushed on in advance. We were soon afterwards overtaken by a stolkjœrre; a man was driving two young ladies, and a young gentleman, their brother, was walking. They stopped after they had passed us, and seeing that they wished to speak, we addressed them. The one young lady, who spoke English very well, said they had come to Veblungsnœs by steamer, where they had heard of us, and had seen our song. They wished very much to see our “deer.” Many in Norway took our donkeys for a species of reindeer capable of carrying weights. The young ladies were very agreeable and good looking; something very charming about them. They seemed much interested in our expedition. Being told that our gipsies were in advance, and where we should encamp, they drove after them.
When Esmeralda and myself reached the leaning-stone in the valley of the Sjiriaglns Fjeld, it was getting dusk. The young ladies were looking at our things just unpacked, and Noah was putting up the tents on the old camp ground near the large rock. The young ladies wished to hear us play, but something to eat was a preliminary necessity before we could give them any music. They decided, therefore, to wait. The young ladies said, “We should much wish to hear you play; we heard of you at Veblungsnœs.” Our tents were soon pitched, and Zachariah, who had given up grumbling about his churie, got our tea and broiled meat ready with remarkable celerity. The young ladies said, “We should so like to sleep in a tent.” “Do you not find it cold?” “No,” we said, “We have a waterproof on the ground, and a carpet over that. It is all we require for our bed.” Then as we were going to tea in our tents the young ladies decided to take something to eat themselves at our camp fire.[77] They gave us some dried rein-deer meat, and we gave them some of our biscuit. Noah said they were such nice young ladies he could give them anything, and sent Esmeralda with his panakin of tea instead of having it himself. Esmeralda did not eat anything, and went and talked to them. Then we sent them bread-and-butter, and finished our tea. The young ladies sent their cards to our tents whilst we were at tea. Miss Grethe S——, of Halsund, and Miss Marie B——, of Molde. Then they came from the camp fire where they had finished their repast. The shades of evening had fallen; the sound of the waters of the Rauma came upon the night. Their brother and the driver of their stolkjœrre joined them as they stood at our tents, in the valley of the cascades, of wild scenery, of all that was beautiful in nature. Much pleased they seemed, as they listened to our gipsy song, and still more pleased they appeared when we presented each with a copy. We played for them several airs with our guitar, violin, and tambourine. It was twelve o’clock when they left to go on to Ormein for the night. We had had a long day; as they left, I found that one of the young ladies had presented Noah with a cigar-holder. Soundly we slept, for we did not awake until eight o’clock. One of our sea trout fried in buttered writing paper was delicious for breakfast. We were just leaving, at twelve o’clock, when a drayman came up, and we gave him some brandy. He said an English gentleman was coming to Ostersund to fish in the “Glommen,” in August. The man said his son could speak English very well. For some time he followed us along the road, but at last we left him behind. The sun was exceedingly hot when we reached Ormein.[78] As we approached the station the two young ladies rushed out. One had two plates in her hand. They shook hands with all of us, and we had a very warm welcome indeed. Their brother brought some water for the donkeys. The young traveller and his wife were also there. A very enthusiastic reception we had. Miss S——, said, she had come there to meet a sister from Christiania. But time presses, we must away; the comfortable station must be left. With many adieux and godt reisen from the young ladies, we ascended the hilly road from the station and left the beautiful scenery which surrounds it.
Staying at our old camping-ground near the “Sœndre Sletten fossen,” we had our mid-day meal—tea, fladbröd, and butter. Noah and Zachariah played some music, whilst Esmeralda had some instruction in dancing. Between four and five o’clock our party were again en route up the zig-zag hilly road, with Vand fos, rock, or forest, continually in view.
At one point of the road a man, woman, and child came running after us. They wished to see the donkeys. Noah and Zachariah were far on before. The peasants’ countenances were marked with an expression of earnest anxiety. The gipsies kept pushing on. Esmeralda said, “We can’t stop for every gorgio,” and away ran the man up the hill with his small boy tugging at his belt behind, and the wife following, ready to sink for want of breath. We came just in sight of our gipsies at a turn of the road, and shouted, when they at last halted very reluctantly.
The peasants, we were glad to see, reached them, but nearly exhausted with haste and fatigue. Some more people came from a house near, and brought some hay for the donkeys. We were anxious for our peasant friends to see the animals, and many were the questions they asked. When we talked of winter they seemed to shiver, and a shade of melancholy passed over their countenances. After a halt of about ten minutes we again continued our journey.
As we reached the summit of the hill near “Stueflaaten” the clouds threatened rain. At Stueflaaten station a delicate-looking woman with a stout child showed us into the guest-chamber. There were two beds. The walls of the chamber were painted green and red. Some photographs also adorned the room, which was very clean, but to us the atmosphere was too close to be pleasant. They procured for us some butter, potatoes, and fladbröd, for which we paid three marks. They gave us full value for our money. The evening was wearing rapidly on as we left the station. Very soon after we met a carriage and pair, in which sat a dark-eyed traveller. His hair was jet black. Our gipsies had to look sharp to get our donkeys in single file, and as we brought up the rear with our alpenstock the traveller scanned our party with much curiosity. Esmeralda paid him the compliment afterwards of saying his hair was as dark as any Romany’s.
It was getting late, as dusty and travel-worn we came on to the open moorland by “Böver Möen.” This time we camped near two or three broken firs, not very far from the road, and near a hedge enclosing a thick wood. Very shortly after our gipsies had unloaded our things, and had lighted our fire, three fishermen, appeared in the distance coming towards us. One was better dressed than the others, and was the only wooden-legged man we saw in Norway. He was stout and portly. From his waistcoat he had suspended two small trout, the result of his fishing expedition. Each had some of our brandy-and-water, and drank to Gamle Norge. Some boys came afterwards and brought some grass for the donkeys. Then they watched our cooking with interest. Whilst Esmeralda was getting the potatoes ready, we fried some sea-trout in buttered writing-paper. Very much surprised they seemed at the luxury of our cuisine. Then Esmeralda fried some fish in the ordinary way, and also some sliced potatoes. We enjoyed our tea on that open moorland, in sight of a foaming waterfall down the mountain-side by the Böverhö. Brandy-and-water was handed round to those peasants assembled. Ourself on guitar, and Zachariah with his violin, sitting as much in the smoke of the fire as possible, on account of the myriads of musketos, played lively airs, whilst Noah was pitching the tents. Esmeralda was engaged putting up the tea-things with every now and then a hearty denunciation of the “migs” or musketos. Some young peasant-girls came in time for the music. One, a very modest, pretty girl, knitting a stocking, or a strumper, as the gipsies called it. Another peasant-girl brought us some milk, which she sold us for three skillings. When our music was finished, and the peasants had wished us good-night, we retired to rest. Rest indeed for Zachariah. He was the smallest of the party, and the mosketos with excellent generalship concentrated their attacks upon the weakest point, when Zachariah killed one, two were in its place. Wildly he scratched, slapped, tumbled, and tossed, to his brother’s disgust, who would say sharply, “Now then, can’t you be quiet? Where are you getting your piro[79] (gip., foot) to. Can’t you lie still, and let me go to sleep.”