Not a breath of air was abroad, and the Sound lay silent as a lake. In answer to the booming of our guns, from the town of Helsingborg, five miles off, on the opposite coast of Sweden, we could hear the sound of human tongues, and the bay of dogs, come echoing over the sea, so calm was the day. A thousand vessels of all nations, some going up, others returning from the Baltic, the deep blue sky, and the hot sun, reminded me more of the Mediterranean than of the northern climate in which I was wandering.
After we had concluded our salute, R—— ordered a swivel to be charged, and, loading it with a handful of rifle balls, fired it towards the coast of Sweden. The experiment was tried in order to satisfy our speculations as to the distance our guns would carry. An immense flock of wild ducks, rather more than a mile from us, rose as we fired; but whether the report, or the bullets interfered with their fishing amusements, I know not, for we did not see the smooth surface of the water disturbed anywhere. Some of the sailors, however, were fanciful enough to assert that they heard the balls strike the rocks on the Swedish shore.
Every other object, except the high land of Sweden, lost to the eye, Cronenborg was still, for a long way, visible; and, as the sun began to descend, the old Castle, throwing its dark shadows almost across the Sound, seemed to stand forth the gigantic symbol of national protection, and type of times gone by.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Translated from the Danish poet, Baggesen.
CHAPTER IX.
ARRIVAL AT FALKENBORG—THE STORM—THE YACHT IN DANGER—SAFE ANCHORAGE—VISIT TO FALKENBORG—LUDICROUS ADVENTURE—A DRIVE INTO THE INTERIOR—GREAT SCARCITY EXPERIENCED BY THE INHABITANTS—DESCRIPTION OF THE COUNTRY—THE DISAPPOINTED ANGLERS—KONGSBACKA—THE YACHT RUNS AGROUND—GOTTENBORG.