Part 18 (1/2)

Esau says all this ill-feeling arises because the Skipper cannot whistle Berlioz's 'Faust,' and is jealous.

Andreas and Ragnild are making preparations for their departure, which takes place to-morrow; then Gjendesheim will be closed, the door fastened, the windows shuttered, and the place will be left to itself until next June. Very soon now Gjendin will be covered with ice and snow: most of the good folks in the saeters have already gone to the valleys for the winter.

We thought it would be more convenient for them if we took our departure to-day, so packed our goods on the pony and said 'Farvel' to Gjendesheim. Our last view of Gjendin, as we turned to look from the top of the pa.s.s, was just as it appeared when we first saw it--black, gloomy, and forbidding, with the cold north wind sweeping in a hurricane over its waters, and heavy rain-clouds hanging over its mountain shoulders, making a scene as awfully lonely and desolate as it is possible to depict.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Jens and his Pony on their way over Bes Fjeld]

After the pony had gone with the last load we suddenly discovered that the tent had been forgotten: it and its appurtenances make a package weighing about 70 lbs. Now we _all_ hate carrying 70 lbs., but fortunately at this crisis a _deus ex machina_ appeared in the person of a stranger. At first we thought it must be one of our own men returning for something after changing his coat, but on his nearer approach we found that he was the rest of the population of the district, whom we had not seen before, coming down in a body. This was Hans Kleven, who has the reputation of being the best hunter in the country. He is a small st.u.r.dy man, with amazing shoulders and a pleasant, good-humoured face, and a most gorgeous check shooting-coat, of a pattern so enormous that there are only three squares on the whole of his back, which is a pretty broad one. This coat was given to him years ago, apparently about 1840, by an English sportsman, and he is as proud of it as ever Joseph was of his celebrated garment. To him we committed our tent, which he carried over to Besse Saeter, three miles away, without turning a hair.

We rewarded him with a s.h.i.+lling, and from his profuse grat.i.tude we conjecture that he only expected fourpence for the job.

Our first step at Besse Saeter was, as usual, to demand food; and John asked for a dish called 'Tuk melk,' which had been recommended to him as very Norwegian and very good. A woman at once went to fetch it from the other saeter, a quarter of a mile away, and presently brought it in a large wooden milk-tub about the size and shape of a sitz bath. How that poor woman carried it we know not; it occupied half the table, and was so scrupulously clean that we feared to touch it with our sordid hands.

John and Esau at last attacked it in the orthodox manner, which is to sit on opposite sides of the table, and to draw a line across the surface of the milk with a spoon before beginning, and then to 'eat fair' up to that line. It would have amused some of our friends at home if they could have seen these two young men of fas.h.i.+on at the moment when both of them were engaged with abnormally large wooden spoons, silently ladling down 'Tuk melk' out of a tub as big as a drawing-room table.

They reported that it was on the whole good; something like curds, but with a sourer taste, and it was much improved by sugar; but though they ate a large quant.i.ty of it, being men of great courage and determination, they could not persuade the Skipper to risk his life in experiments with untried articles of food. He, however, gave utterance to the following refined expression of his sentiments:--'I wouldn't touch that beastliness if you gave me fourteen pence a spoonful to swallow it.' No one offered the reward.

Out shooting on the other side of the lake, we put up a snipe just at evening, which went down again close to us. This species of game is not common up here, although we find his cousin the woodc.o.c.k fairly often; consequently we were much excited, and advanced upon the foe with insidious step, and bloodthirsty weapons almost at our shoulders in order to slay him as soon as he should rise. All went well, and at the right moment up he got, and promptly did the Skipper fire and miss him; while Esau's gun for the first time on record missed fire, and left him using language that ought to have ignited any cartridge. So the happy bird zigzagged off into the dim shades of sheltering night, and we went on our way full of thought and sorrow.

Arriving again at the saeter after narrowly escaping s.h.i.+pwreck in the pa.s.sage, we found that Jens had come to meet us, and as he will enter our service from this date, we shall no longer need Ivar, and paid him off, arranging, however, that he is to come to help us home when we leave Rus Vand.

We like Ivar very much now, though we did not by any means dote upon him at first. Ivar is a good fellow, but an idiot, perfectly willing to do anything in the world, but not understanding _how_ to do anything. His budding reputation was blasted in our eyes the first time that we left camp and entrusted everything to his care: we were away for three days, and in that time he consumed nearly four pounds of our best b.u.t.ter; on our return we decided that he was a knave, but we have since learnt that it was only his natural impulsiveness that led him to commit such an outrage; and now that we have found how eager he is to oblige us in everything, we like his strange nature better than ola's awful laziness of character. He came into the room this morning to stand for his portrait, and the easy, graceful att.i.tude that he a.s.sumed for the occasion was inimitable. His waistcoat and boots were perhaps his greatest charm, but his open countenance and genial smile (six inches in diameter) played no small part in causing him to become beloved by us as he was.

Ivar always laughed like a n.i.g.g.e.r on a racecourse, and whenever we took him out ryper-shooting he was exactly like an unbroken retriever: if a bird was killed, he _would_ rush in to gather it, and we had to shout, 'Back, Ivar, back! Lie down! Down charge!' to prevent him disturbing any birds that might have chanced to remain during the yells and convulsions of Christy Minstrel mirth into which the death of a ryper always sent him. His behaviour usually made us laugh so much that we attributed any missing to the unsteadiness caused by constant hilarity. We gave him our spade as a parting present, and dismissed him with our blessing.

CHAPTER XXIX.

RUS VAND.

_September 8._--This morning we crossed the fjeld to Rus Vand in a gale of wind. Waving a 'Farvel' to the kindly folk at Besse Saeter, we have a stiff climb up by the side of the torrent which comes gadareneing[*]

down from Bes Lake, high above our heads, and presently we stand on the open fjeld above the saeter. Below lie the green waters and birch-clad banks of Sjodals Lake; far away to the east the great fall and larger trees that mark the outlet of the lake; and still further, glimpses of lower Sjodals Lake, with its forests of pine, haunt of the black game and capercailzie. But we cannot stand long to look, for the side of a Norwegian mountain, though eminently suited to hurricanes, is extremely _un_suitable for human beings while the stormy winds do blow. En avant, Messieurs, en avant! and we fight our way across the flat top to the opposite brow. Here we must pause, though aeolus himself say nay. 'What a glorious sight!' Straight in front, the cloud-girt peak of Nautgardstind, all glistening white with newly fallen snow, but of him only the top can be seen; his middle is hidden by a never-ending rush of scudding clouds. Higher still and westward the jagged summits of Tyknings Ho and Memurutind, also pure white where the snow can lie, but with huge black lines and chasms where the steep rocky face stands up gaunt and repellent, so sheer that snow can never lodge; nearer the tremendous ma.s.s of Bes Ho frowns above us; and far below in front the Russen River winds its way through barren rocks and patches of willow, to warmer and more hospitable regions, leaving with a leap of joy the cold storm-rocked Rus Lake, which has been its cradle since its birth in the mighty glaciers around.

[Footnote: Gadareneing, _i.e._ rus.h.i.+ng violently down a steep place.]

Such was the scene lying before us on the north side of the mountain, grand beyond description, perhaps the finest in Norway, but not exactly inviting to s.h.i.+vering hungry mortals, so not much time was spent on it.

Down we went, with the wind worse than on the other side, howling past our ears and screeching in the gun-barrels, and at last arrived at the lake to find Jens hauling for his life at the boat which, though filled with water by the breakers, had fortunately not been battered to pieces on the rocky strand. He had left it dragged up on the beach out of the water, but the sea had increased so much in his absence, that if we had been a little later it would without doubt have been smashed.

However, we soon baled her out, and with ola as Charon commenced the pa.s.sage. Rusvasoset, as the outlet is called, is not more than 60 yards across, but the waves had had seven miles of very open water to get up in, and they came rolling down to this end in a very alarming manner.

With great difficulty we shoved off, and then with ola sculling his hardest, and the Skipper keeping our head to wind, we at last got safe across with no mishap but the loss of ola's hat and a thorough ducking for all of us.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A Stormy Crossing at Rusvasoset]

ola was very sorrowful about his hat, which was of pure Leghorn straw, double seamed, extra quality lining; and being further embellished with a black braid ribbon, it was a great source of pride to him; but we mocked when it flew away, and are inclined to bear its departure with equanimity, and hope it will be accepted as a propitiatory offering by the angry Lady of the Lake.

All the things were at last safely housed, and we soon made ourselves comfortable in our new abode, which is luxury itself in this weather when compared with a tent.

There are two huts, one by the edge of the lake, the other about 20 yards away, and it is the latter which we occupy. We enter by a door about five feet high, invariably knocking our heads against the lintel and swearing as we do so. The first room is about nine feet square, with a narrow dresser under the solitary window on the left, and an iron cooking stove in the nearest corner to the right, the more remote one being tenanted by a bed. Round the room at various heights are shelves and hooks adorned by cooking utensils of all kinds, very kindly left for us by their worthy owners; two or three stools complete the furniture; and on the floor are to be seen carved the effigies of departed trout of fabulous weight, with dates and the initials of their captors. Pa.s.sing on through a still smaller doorway we find ourselves in another room of the same size, but with three beds instead of one, and an open Norwegian fireplace; the same kind of pegs and shelves, and hooks for guns on the wall; more profile fishes, and walls covered with records in pencil of game killed by former inhabitants, with occasional amusing notes. This is our dining, drawing, and bed room; the other is only used as kitchen.