Here, for the first time since leaving England, they regarded a fair wind with disfavour; they bade adieu to the pastor and his family with a little of that sad feeling which one experiences when parting, perhaps for ever, from dear friends.
But time and the sun would not wait. The anchor was tripped; the sails were spread; in half an hour the place had dwindled away to a bright green spot in the far distance; then they rounded the beetling crags of an island—and it vanished from their view.
Chapter Eight.
Visit to a Strange People—The Midnight Sun.
One day the Snowflake lay becalmed in one of those long narrow fiords by which the whole of the west coast of Norway is cut up, and some of which extend from seventy to a hundred miles inland.
There was no prospect of a breeze, so another boat excursion was talked of. Hearing this, Hans Ericsson informed his master that there was a small settlement of Laplanders about thirty miles or so inland, and that he would be very glad to guide him and his friends to it if they chose.
They jumped at the proposal at once, and in less than half an hour they were on their way to it. Bob Bowie also went on this expedition.
No carioles could be procured in that wild region, but at a poor fishing-village on the coast they got two of the country carts. These are small rough machines, with a seat on wooden springs. They can hold only two persons, and are light and serviceable, well suited to the rough roads. Fred and Sam led the way; Grant and the steward followed. Hans acted the part of shooscarle to the former, and the owner of the carts drove the latter.