CHEERFUL! THE HUTS AT RUS LAKE.
September 14.—
We never knew when sunrise and daybreak took place to-day, or whether they happened at all, for the prospect was more hopeless than ever, and the rain still fell with unabated vigour.
We were at the end of our indoor resources, but fortunately Öla returned with some English papers which he had found waiting for us at Ransværk, the sæter at which he and the Skipper passed the night, and at which this bundle of literature had been deposited about a fortnight ago by the latest traveller from Vaage. But for this, there would certainly have been bloodshed in this remote spot, our tempers not being equal to the strain of two days in succession without being able to see ten yards in front of us, or to stir out without becoming water-logged.
Even the fish were apparently at last disgusted at not being able to get into a dry corner by jumping out of the water, and our efforts to persuade them to try the interior of a waterproof bag only met with indifferent success.
The stubborn resistance of our well-tried roof has at last been overcome, and soon after turning in last night we had to turn out again to rig up various hydrostatic appliances with a view to diverting the course of some of the superfluous rainfall, and irrigating the floor therewith instead of letting the beds get it all. The latter really needed it much less than the boards, which were somewhat dusty; but probably the mistake arose from John sitting on one of them while he mixed the dough, so that it might have been taken for a flour-bed.
September 15.—
At last we were relieved by a change in the wind, soon followed by a cessation of rain, and then the mist began to lift, and by noon the sun was actually beginning to glimmer feebly, and the mountains to be visible for half their height.
