“Don’t say so,” shouted Zachariah.
“Ask Mr. Smith whether it is a lie. Oh, yes; Ambrose can do anything, he can.”
It was, however, satisfactory to know that in a few minutes they did not trouble themselves about their hastily expressed opinions of one another.
Our gipsies were shortly afterwards singing, “Gamle Norge,” humming a tune, or arranging our things with a merry laugh. Poor Mr. Rödsheim was sorely puzzled at the variety of names they seemed to possess; but at last Noah settled down into Mr. Ambrose, Esmeralda into Miss Daughter, and Zachariah into Master Zâkēē.
In the evening, as the Sœter girl collected her cows, there was something charming in her peculiar call. The high modulated pitch of the voice—tones at once plaintive and persuasive, seemed to lure the animals to her from the far distance. It was nine o’clock when we sang our gipsy song for them, and then ourself, Noah, and Zachariah sat by the fire playing the guitar, violin, and tambourine, as the young girls danced on the level green till ten o’clock.
Ole Rödsheim slept in state that night—the Englishman’s house was placed at his disposal. This log-house appeared to have been built for sportsmen, and had been occupied by English gentlemen, in 1869, for reindeer shooting; but on these fjelds, we were told, the reindeer were now scarce, and the rype not plentiful.[85]
Ole was stirring in good time. Eggs for breakfast, with tea, fladbröd, and butter, from the Sœter, for which we paid two marks, twelve skillings. Ole Rödsheim, who at first was scarcely inclined to touch tea, as he usually drank coffee, now seemed getting quite fond of it. One English gentleman to whom he had been guide, seems to have been equally fond of brandy. It was during forest travel in Australia that we first acquired the habit of taking tea with each meal. It is the custom in the Bush; and, as regards ourselves, we have found it sufficient stimulus for every kind of exposure and hard mountain work.
At breakfast, the women of the Sœter brought us a present of some milk, and Esmeralda a cake of best fladbröd, with clotted cream upon it—very different hospitality from our host at Veblungsnœs. It was excellent; but we think added slightly to the biliousness of Esmeralda. Then they brought us more cake and clotted cream; but we were obliged to beg off and get Ole Rödsheim to explain that we had really had quite sufficient.
The woman took us to see the Englishman’s house. It was very clean; but bare of furniture. The Englishmen, who were evidently of lively temperament, appear to have stayed there some time. As a change from hard life in the fjelds, a Norwegian musician would occasionally come, and the Sœter girls from the district assemble for a dance on the level green. Their names were recorded inside the door of the Englishman’s wooden house as follows:—
Oline Flikle
Anne Brenyord
Eli Loflinsmoe
Marit Norstigaard
Marit Thorhols
Marit Brenyörd
Yoraana Norstigaard
Mari Thorols
Mari Rudi
Marit Stavem
Anne Skarpol
Britt Skarpol.