"But they will know," I ventured to remark. "We cannot clear away all this hay even if we move the chairs."
"I have it," said the student, after a long pause, during which we had all sought an excuse to enable us to depart without hurting the farmer's feelings, "I will tell them that we sat up here because the ladies wanted to see the sunrise."
"Just so," we all assented, gazing abstractedly towards the west at the black wall of the opposite barn, which totally obstructed all view of any kind, even if the fog had not made a sunrise an absolutely ridiculous suggestion. But we were all so weak and worn out that if any one had suggested the sunset at three in the morning, we would still have said, "Just so."
Luckily, one forgets the disagreeables of life unless they have an amusing side as this had.
Pleasant memories linger.
First one of us got up and went to see if there was the slightest chance of the mist clearing—another peeped at a little baby calf standing alone in a shed, where it nearly had a fit with fright at the unexpected sight of visitors—another walked round the house to see if the mist was clearing on the opposite side, and then all sat down dejectedly in a row again on those hard wooden seats. At last, when it was really time to leave, with an effort of will we made up our mind to go back to the bedroom to fetch an umbrella and a hat which had been left behind. It was lighter now, and as we stooped to pick up the umbrella, that had fallen upon the ground, we started back in horror, for a perfect colony of every conceivably sized and shaped crawling beast was walking over the floor. Gathering up our skirts we flew with winged feet from that haunted chamber, but not before we had seized upon the hat, which had lain upon the table, and out of which hopped and crawled enormous—well—we left that house as noiselessly as we had come, left it surrounded in fog, without waking a soul, after putting the money upon the table in payment for our night's lodging. We left, glad to shake its dust and its etceteras from our feet; but it will ever remain in our minds as a bad dream, a dream of another world, the world of insect land, into the mysteries of which we never wish to peep again.
The most wonderful bit of our journey was yet to come. The waves were too short and jumpy for the waves of the sea, and the boat too fragile for a sea boat, yet we did not even gasp now, we had got so accustomed to drenchings, and our nerves were steadier, if over-wrought, as we danced and plunged over these waters.
For some four or five miles the Pyhäkoski rapid is narrower than those higher up the river, and sheer rocks rise straight from the water's edge and pine-trees skirt these on either side, literally growing out of the boulders without any apparent roots. It is a grand and wonderful passage waterway: and one the return boats cannot manage at all, there being no towing path, so that the oarsmen have to put their boats on carts and drive them across the land. This is not an easy job, because the length and fragility of the boats mean risk of breaking their backs. Great care is therefore required.
The mist disappeared as the sun rose, and the birds began to sing gaily as we skipped and jumped over the seething waters, till at last we saw before us a solid wall of high steep rock, rising perpendicularly seventy or eighty feet from the water. Our steersman made straight for its hard cold base, round which whirled a roaring cataract. Surely this time death stared us in the face. Had he gone to sleep or lost his senses, or was he paralysed with fatigue?
On, on, on we went; we glanced round anxiously to see what had happened to the man. He sat motionless, his eyes staring wildly before him, looking hardly human. Our hearts seemed positively to stand still as the boat's bow got within eight or nine feet of that massive wall, going straight for it, at a pace no one could believe who has not visited the spot and felt the horror of it.