The appearance of Stiorna reminded the lovers that it was time to begin
the business of the morning. They startled Stiorna with the news that a
large company was coming to breakfast. Being in no very amiable temper
towards happy lovers, she refused, after a moment's thought, to believe
what they said, and set down sulking to her task of milking. So Rolf
proceeded to rouse Jan; and Erica stepped to Frolich's bedside, and
waked her with a kiss.
"Erica! No--can it be?" said the active girl, up in a moment. "You
look too happy to be Erica."
"Erica never was so happy before, dear; that is the reason. You were
right, Frolich--bless your kind heart for it! Rolf was not dead. He is
here."
Frolich gallopaded round the room like one crazy, before proceeding to
dress.
"Whenever you like to stop," said Erica, laughing, "I have some good
news for you too."
"I am to go and see the bishop!" cried Frolich, clapping her hands, and
whirling round on one foot, like an opera-dancer.
"Not so, Frolich."
"There, now! You promise me good news, and then you won't let me go and
see the bishop, when you know that is the only thing in the world I want
or wish for."
"Would it not be a great compliment to you, and save you a great deal of
trouble, if the bishop were to come here to see you?"
"Ah! that would be a pretty sight! The Bishop of Tronyem over the
ankles in the sodden, trodden pasture--sticking in the mud of Sulitelma!
The Bishop of Tronyem sleeping upon hay in the loft, and eating his
dinner off a wooden platter! That would be the most wonderful sight
that Norland ever saw."
"Prepare, then, to see the Bishop of Tronyem drink his morning coffee
out of a wooden bowl. Meantime, I must go and grind his coffee.--
Seriously, Frolich, you must make haste to dress and help. The pirates
want to carry off the bishop for ransom. Erlingsen is raising the
country. Hund is coming here as a prisoner; and the bishop, and my
mistress, and Orga to be safe; and if you do not help me, I shall have
nothing ready, for Stiorna does not like the news."
Never had Frolich dressed more quickly. She thought it very hard that
the bishop should see her when she had nothing but her dairy dress to
wear; but she was ready all the sooner for this. Erica consoled her
with the belief that the bishop was the last person who could be
supposed to make a point of a silk gown for a mountain maiden.
A consultation about the arrangements was held before the door by the
four who were all in a good humour; for Stiorna remained aloof. This,
like other mountain dwellings, was a mere sleeping and eating shed, only
calculated for a bare shelter at night, at meals, and from occasional
rain. There was no apartment at the seater in which the bishop could
hold an audience, out of the way of the cooking and other household
transactions. It could not be expected of him to sit on the bench
outside, or on the grass, like the people of the establishment; for,
unaccustomed as he was to spend his days in the open air, his eyes would
be blinded and his face blistered by the sun. The young people cast
their eyes on the pine-wood as the fittest summer parlour for him, if it
could be provided with seats.
Erica sprang forward to prevent any one from entering the wood till she
should have seen what state the place was in on this particular morning.
No trees had been felled, and no branches cut since the night before,
and the axes remained where they had been hung. The demon had not
wanted them, it seemed, and there was no fear of intruding upon him now.
So the two young men set to work to raise a semicircular range of turf
seats in the pleasantest part of the shady grove. The central seat,
which was raised above the rest, and had a footstool, was well cushioned
with dry and soft moss, and the rough bark was cut from the trunk of the
tree against which it was built; so that the stem served as a
comfortable back to the chair. Rolf tried the seat when finished; and
as he leaned back, feasting his eyes on the vast sunny landscape which
was to be seen between the trees of the grove, he declared that it was
infinitely better to sit here than in the bishop's stall in Tronyem
cathedral.
"Surely," said Erica, whom he had summoned to see the work, "when God
plants a lofty mountain overlooking the glorious sea, with the heavens
themselves for a roof, He makes a temple with which no church built by
men can compare. I suppose men build cathedrals in cities because they
are not so happy as to have a mountain to worship on."
"How I pity the countries that have no glorious mountains!" cried
Frolich; "especially if few of their people live in sight of the vast
sea, or in the heart of deep forests."
And, by one impulse, they all struck up the national air "For Norge,"--a
thanksgiving for their home being planted in the midst of the northern
seas.
All being done now for which a strong arm was wanted, Rolf declared that
he and Jan must be gone to the farm. Not a man could be spared from the
shores of the fiord, till the affairs of the pirates should be settled.
Erica ought to have expected to hear this: but her cheek grew white as
it was told. She spoke no word of objection, however, seeing plainly
what her lover's duty was.
She turned towards the dairy when he was gone, instead of indulging
herself with watching him down the mountain. She was busy skimming bowl
after bowl of rich milk, when Frolich ran in to say that Stiorna had
dressed herself, and put up her bundle, and was setting forth homewards,
to see, as she said, the truth of things there;--which meant, of course,
to learn Hund's condition and prospects. It was now necessary to tell
her that she would presently see Hund brought up to the seater a
prisoner: and that the farm was no place for any but fighting-men this
day. To save her feelings and temper, Erica asked her to watch the
herd, leading them to a point whence she could soonest see the expected
company mounting the uplands.
Frolich shook her head often and mournfully over the breakfast. The
skill and diligent hands of two people could not, up in the clouds here,
cover the long table in a way which appeared at all creditable to
Nordland eyes. Do what they would, it was only bread, cheese, butter,
berries, and cream: and then berries and cream, butter, cheese, and
bread. They garnished with moss, leaves, and flowers; they disposed
their few bowls and platters to the best advantage,--taking some from
the dairy which could ill be spared. It was still but a poor apology
for a feast; and Frolich looked so ready to cry as to make Erica laugh.
Presently, however, there were voices heard from the hill above. Some
traveller who had met the budstick had reported the proceedings below,
and the news had spread to a northern seater. The men had gone down to
the fiord and here were the women, with above a gallon of strawberries,
fresh gathered, and a score of plovers' eggs.--Next appeared a pony,
coming westward over the pasture, laden with panniers containing a
tender kid, a packet of spices, a jar of preserved cherries, and a few
of the present season, early ripe; and a stone bottle of ant-vinegar
[Note 1]. Frolich's spirits rose higher and higher, as more people came
from below, sent by Rolf on his way down. A deputation of Lapps came
from the tents, bringing reindeer venison, and half of a fine Gammel
cheese. Before Erica had had time to pour out a glass of corn-brandy
for each of this dwarfish party, in token of thanks, and because it is
considered unlucky to send away Lapps without a a treat, other mountain
dwellers came with offerings of tydder, roer, ryper, and jerper [Note
2]: so that the dresser was loaded with game enough to feed half a
hundred hungry men.
Some of these willing neighbours stayed to help. One went to pick more
cloud-berries on the edge of the nearest bog. Another rode off, on the
pony, to beg a supply of sugar from a house where it was known to
abound. Two or three more cleared a space for a fire behind a thicket,
and prepared to broil the venison and stew the kid, while others sat
down to pluck the game. The Lapps, as being dirty and despised, were
got rid of as soon as possible.
Erica and Frolich returned to their breakfast-table, to make the new
arrangements now necessary, and place the fruits and spices. Erica
closely examined the piece of Gammel cheese brought by the Lapps, and
then, with glowing cheeks, called Frolich to her.
"What now?" said Frolich. "Have you found a way of telling fortunes
with the hard cheese, as some pretend to do with the soft curds?"
"Look here," said Erica. "What stamp is this? The cheese has been
scraped,--almost pared, you see: but they have left one little corner.
And whose stamp is there?"
"Ours," said Frolich, coolly. "This is the cheese you laid out on the
ridge last night."
"I believe it. I see it," exclaimed Erica.
"Now, dear Erica, do not let us have the old story of your being
frightened about what the demon will say and do. Nobody but you will be
surprised that the Lapps help themselves with good things that lie
strewing the ground. You know I gave you a hint, just twelve hours
since, of what would become of this same cheese."
"You did," admitted Erica. To Frolich's delight and surprise, she
appeared too busy,--or was rather, perhaps, too happy--to lament this
mischance, as she would formerly have done. Possibly she comforted
herself with thinking, that if the demon had set its heart upon the
cheese, it might have been beforehand with the Lapps. She contented
herself with setting apart the dish till her mistress should decide what
ought to be done with it. Just when a youth from the highest pasture on
Sulitelma had come, running and panting, to present Frolich with a
handful of fringed pinks and blue gentian, plucked from the very edge of
the glacier, so that their colours were reflected in the ice, Stiorna
appeared, in haste, to tell that a party, on horseback and on foot, were
winding out of the ravine, and coming straight up over the pasture.--All
was now certainty; and great was the bustle, to put out of sight all
unseemly tokens of preparation. In the midst of the hurry, Frolich
found time to twist some of her pretty flowers into her pretty hair; so
that it might easily chance that the bishop would not miss her silk
gown.--When, however, were unfashionable mothers known to forget the
interests of their daughters? Madame Erlingsen never did! and she now
engaged one of the bishop's followers to ride forward with a certain
bundle which Orga had carried on her lap. The man discharged his errand
so readily that, on the arrival of the train, Frolich was seen so
dressed, walking "in silk attire," as to appear to all eyes as the
daughter of the hostess.
The bishop's reputation preceded him, as is usual in such cases.
"Where is he now?"
"How far off is he?"
"Why does he not come?" asked one and another of the expectant people,
of those who first appeared before the seater.
"He is at the tents, speaking to the Lapps."
"Speaking to the Lapps! Impossible! What Lapp would ever dream of
being spoken to by a bishop of Tronyem?"
"He is with them, however. When I left him, he was just stooping to
enter one of their tents."
"Now, you must be joking. The Lapps are low people enough in the open
pasture: but in their tents, pah!"
He did not go in without a reason. There was a sick child in the tent,
who could not come out to him. The mother wished him to see and
pronounce upon the charms she was employing for her child's benefit, and
he himself chose to be satisfied whether any medical knowledge which he
possessed could avail to restore the sick. Nothing was more certain
than that the Bishop of Tronyem was in a Lapland tent. The fact was
confirmed by M. Kollsen, who next appeared, musing as he rode, with a
countenance of extreme gravity. He would fain have denied that his
bishop was smiling upon Lapps who wore charms; but he could not. He
muttered that it was very extraordinary.
"Quite as much so," whispered Erica to Frolich, "as that the Holiest
should be found in the house of a publican."
"What is that?" inquired the vigilant M. Kollsen. "What was your
remark?"
Erica blushed deeply; but Frolich readily declared what it was that she
had said: and in return M. Kollsen remarked on the evil of ignorant
persons applying Scripture according to their own narrow notions.
"Two--four--eight horses," observed a herdsman. "I think the neighbours
should each take one or two; or here will soon be an end of Erlingsen's
new hay. This lot of pasture will never feed eight horses, besides his
own and the herd."
"Better than having them carried off by the pirates," said a neighbour.
"But I will run home and send a load of grass."
In such an amiable mood did the bishop find all who were awaiting him at
his place of refuge. On their part, they were persuaded that he
deserved all their love, even if he had some low notions about the
Lapps.
As the bishop's horse, followed by those which bore the ladies, reached
the house-door, all present cried, "Welcome to the mountain!"
"Welcome to Sulitelma!"
The bishop observed that, often as he had wished to look abroad from
Sulitelma, and to see with his own eyes what life at the seaters was
like, he should have grown old without the desire being gratified, but
for the design of the enemy upon him. It was all he could do to go the
rounds of his diocese, from station to station below, without thinking
of journeys of pleasure. Yet here he was on Sulitelma!
When he and M. Kollsen and the ladies had dismounted, and were entering
the house to breakfast, the gazers found leisure to observe the hindmost
of the train of riders. It was Hund, with his feet tied under his
horse, and the bridle held by a man on each side. He had seen and heard
too much of the preparations against the enemy to be allowed to remain
below, or at large anywhere, till the attack should be over. He could
not dismount till some one untied his legs; and no one would do that
till a safe place could be found, in which to confine him. It was an
awkward situation enough, sitting there bound before everybody's eyes;
and not the less for Stiorna's leaning her head against the horse, and
crying at seeing him so treated: and yet Hund had often been seen, on
small occasions, to look far more black and miserable. His face now was
almost cheerful. Stiorna praised this as a sign of bravery; but the
truth was, the party had been met by Rolf and Jan, going down the
mountain. It was no longer possible to take Rolf for a ghost: and,
though Hund was as far as possible from understanding the matter, he was
unspeakably relieved to find that he had not the death of his rival to
answer for. It made his countenance almost gay to think of this, even
while stared at by men, women, and children, as a prisoner.
"What is it?" whimpered Stiorna,--"what are you a prisoner for, Hund?"
"Ask them that know," said Hund. "I thought at first that it was on
Rolfs account; and now that they see with their own eyes that Rolf is
safe, they best know what they have to bring against me."
"It is no secret," said Madame Erlingsen. "Hund was seen with the
pirates, acting with and assisting them, when they committed various
acts of thievery on the shores of the fiord. If the pirates are taken,
Hund will be tried with them for robberies at Thore's, Kyril's, Tank's
and other places along the shore, about which information has been given
by a witness."
"Thore's, Kyril's, Tank's!" repeated Hund to himself; "then there must
be magic in the case. I could have sworn that not an eye on earth
witnessed the doings there. If Rolf turns out to be the witness, I
shall be certain that he has the powers of the region to help him."
So little is robbery to be dreaded at the seaters, that there really was
no place where Hund could be fastened in,--no lock upon any door,--not a
window from which he might not escape. The zealous neighbours
therefore, whose interest it was to detain him, offered to take it in
turn to be beside him, his right arm tied to the left of another man.
And thus it was settled.
After breakfast, notice was given that the party who had travelled all
night wished to repose for a few hours; all others therefore withdrew,
to secure quiet some within the pine-wood, others to the nearest breezy
hill, to gossip and sport, while some few took the opportunity of going
home, to see after their cattle, or other domestic affairs, intending to
return in the afternoon.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note 1. Ants abound in Norway, both in the forests and on the
mountains. Some, of a large kind, are boiled for the sake of the
(formic) acid they contain; and the water when strained is used for
vinegar. It is as good as weak vinegar.
Note 2. Tydder and roer are the cock and hen of the wild bird called in
Scotland the capercailzie. The ryper is the ptarmigan. The jerper is
of the grouse species.--Lloyd's "Field Sports of the North of Europe."