The story ended, we called the men in and had a great settlement of wages and milk bills, and arranged how the Skipper’s baggage should be transported tomorrow, and the rest next week.
Then we filled up glasses round with whisky and drank a solemn Skaal (pronounced Skole) to every one, and then to Gammle Norgé, and finished the evening with ‘Auld Lang Syne.’ It must have been a ludicrous sight as we stood tightly packed in that tiny room, with heads all bent towards the centre to avoid the rafters, our hands crossed in orthodox fashion, and roaring at our highest respective pitches as much of the words as we knew, while we swayed our arms up and down in the manner essential to the proper rendering of the good old song.
When the men cleared out, Esau produced a gorgeous counterpane which he had commissioned Peter to buy in Vaage six weeks ago, and which the old man brought over from Besse Sæter to-day. Its manufacture is peculiar to this district; it is woven in most tasteful colours, red, magenta, blue, and green being the most prominent, with a kind of diamond pattern in white running diagonally across it; but, from the ‘What’s the next article?’ air with which Esau exhibited it, we began to suspect that he was rather disappointed with it, and wanted to induce some one to buy it. Suffice it to say that its introduction was received with coldness.
This was a bad day for sport; we caught very little, and shot less. We did spy a reindeer directly after breakfast, but as he was about six miles away, close to the top of one of the highest mountains, and running as if Loki were after him, no one cared about pursuing him.
John fishing in the lake managed to lose a ‘twa and saxpenny’ minnow, trace, and twenty yards of reel line, and was quite discontented.
At night the wind had increased to a storm, and the clouds were right down on the water, and hurrying past in endless wreathing drifts like witches trooping to their nocturnal Sabbath.