“And if your worship does not like Saint Usuph’s[15] fare,” added the man, “and will have patience for a few moments, I can promise you a splendid piece of venison, or at least a pheasant’s wing. We are expecting a visit from the best hunter in the three provinces. Isn’t that so, good Maase?”
“Maase,” the name which the fisherman gave his wife, is a Norwegian word meaning “sea-gull.” The wife did not seem in the least offended, either because it was really her name, or because she took it as a term of endearment.
“The best hunter! I should say so,” she answered with great emphasis. “He means my brother, the famous Kennybol. God bless all his undertakings! He has come to spend a few days with us, and you shall drink a mug of good beer with him. He is a traveller like you.”
“Many thanks, my kind hostess,” said Ordener, with a smile; “but I must be content with your tempting salt fish and a bit of this bark bread. I have not time to wait for your brother, the mighty hunter. I must set off again immediately.”
Good Maase, flattered by the stranger’s praises of her fish and her brother, and vexed at his hasty departure, exclaimed: “You are very kind, sir. But why should you leave us so soon?”
“I must.”
“Must you venture among these mountains at this hour and in such weather?”
“My business is important.”
These answers roused the native curiosity of the young man’s entertainers as much as they excited their surprise.
The fisherman rose, and said: “You are in the house of Christopher Buldus Braal, fisherman, of the village of Surb.”