Early this morning we sorrowfully packed the Skipper’s things on the pony, and then we three and Öla marched off down the river towards civilisation. The Skipper hoped to get over about twenty-five miles before night; Esau wanted to try the river a long way down; and John said he ‘always liked a stroll on Sunday,’ and with that object accompanied the Skipper for the first eleven miles of his journey, returning to Rusvasoset in time for dinner.
About four miles below Rus Lake, the river, which is there about thirty yards wide, suddenly disappears into a narrow cleft in the rocky bed, and runs in this curious rift for several hundred yards, and then again emerges into daylight. The sides of this rocky prison are just over a yard apart at the narrowest place, though the gap only appears to be a few inches wide; but the force with which the immense body of water is squeezed through the tortuous passage far down below, whirling huge boulders along with irresistible force, and covering the surrounding rocks with moisture from the ever-rising misty spray, makes it a severe trial to the nerves to step across the cleft; the ceaseless din of the rushing water is of itself sufficiently appalling.
This channel has evidently been gradually worn down through the solid rock, which here appears to be a reef of softer nature than the usual formation of this country. On the top and in niches all the way down are still to be seen the turn holes caused by stones working round and round in an eddy; but the curious fact is that while at the top the cleft is only a yard across, it widens regularly out as it gets deeper, and at the bottom is fully ten yards in width. Now it seems unlikely that the Russen River could ever have been content to run in a bed so much narrower than its present one, and from the appearance of the strata we imagine that as it worked down and undermined the cliffs at each side, they have gradually toppled forward to meet each other. Probably soon they will actually touch, after which a very short time will see the natural arch so formed covered with vegetation, and the river will run in a subterranean passage.
Through this channel no fish could pass alive, so there Esau bade ‘farvel’ to the Skipper, and, encumbered with rod and fishing bag, leaped like a goat across the intervening Devil’s Dyke, and was soon lost to view as he fished his way up stream.
The other two pursued their journey steadily, and found it pleasant to gradually walk down from the Scotch mist which overhung everything up at Rus Vand, into, firstly, dull dry weather just below the clouds, and then a little further into real sunshine and warmth. About one o’clock they reached Hind Sæter, the tenants of which were still there, but just in the act of removing to the valley. Here they feasted together on fladbrod, and then the things were packed on a cart, and the Skipper, following them as they jolted away under Öla’s guidance through the pine forest, was seen no more by his disconsolate comrade.
When John returned to Rusvasoset a little before dinner-time, we found it necessary to bake bread and a pie, our invariable rule ‘when in doubt.’ This was not a case that admitted of any hesitation, for the Skipper had taken all the food that he could annex for his sustenance on the journey, as he did not expect to find any people in the sæters on his path.
The evening was spent in general tidying, and mending various articles which had gone wrong; holes in landing-nets, rents in trousers and coats, and inserting new screws in Esau’s boots for the stalk he hoped, but hardly expected, to make on the morrow. At night the outlook was anything but encouraging, dense clouds folding all nature in their cold embrace, and the pitiless rain beating down on our poor little hut as if it took a pleasure in the occupation.
September 13.—
Rain, and nothing but rain.
