GJENDESHEIM.
_August 5._--Such a lovely morning at last that we were quite tempted to
stay, but nobly stuck to our resolve, heaped everything we possessed
except rods, guns, and a change of raiment, into the inner tent, and
covered them with a ground-sheet; then packed the selected weapons into
the canoes, and sailed from these inhospitable shores.
Not far from camp we saw some fish rising under a cliff, and though it
was a dead calm, and the sun as bright as sun could be, we stopped to
try for them.
Esau soon tired of casting, and mentioning that 'if _he_ could not catch
those fish no one could,' paddled off to make a formal call on the
Professor, and ask if he had got any deer.
The Skipper persevered, and was rewarded with two fish weighing about
three pounds, and the most perfect fish for shape and condition that we
have ever seen. This was an important event for us, for it entirely
demolished Öla's theory of the non-existence of fish here, and gave us
new hope for the future, especially as the weather has been so bad all
the time until now, that we should hardly have caught any even if they
swarmed.
[Illustration: Throwing for a Rise]
The Skipper is devoted to the sport of 'throwing for a rise,' which he
thinks the perfection of fishing. It can hardly be pursued with success
anywhere but in Norway, for only there do fish seem to rise greedily
after a constant succession of fine, hot, sunny days, with never a drop
of rain or cat's-paw of wind.
The great charm to him is the extreme delicacy required. You _must_ put
on your thinnest cast, your smallest fly, and throw your lightest; and
unless you throw a very long line you have not a chance for the beggar.
Then, if he comes at you, you can see him through the calm clear water,
and watch the whole performance. You get a rather better chance where
two fish are rising close together, as there is some jealousy and
competition between them, and each of them is likely to rush at your fly
without sufficient meditation, lest the other one may get it first.
The Skipper has studied fish from a moral point of view, and says that
they are very much like men: and he invariably turns his knowledge of
their habits to good account. Throwing for a rise--in a lake like this,
where the fish run large--on a calm bright day is decidedly his forte;
his motto in fishing being 'far and fine.' Whereas Esau shines more in a
rapid stream than elsewhere.
The latter had a great time with the Professor, who he said was a
capital fellow, and gave him whisky which they drank 'to better sport;'
and they both agreed that there were no reindeer to be found in the
district at present, and the Professor said he was going further north
if matters did not mend speedily.
After the fishing and visiting were concluded, we hoisted sails of
primitive construction, formed of a rug and a landing net, which, with a
fair wind, soon brought us to Gjendesheim.
We think this wind is the chief cause of our misfortune. When we were in
these parts before, the wind was always against us whenever we
journeyed; and in that year we had first-rate sport, both in shooting
and fishing. But this time the wind has always been with us, and we pay
for the luxury by getting no shooting and not much fishing. 'No
mahtterr--a time will come.'
After food the Skipper with Öla went over to Leirungen--a small lake
about three quarters of a mile distant. Öla carried his canoe, and did
not like the job. It gives us considerable satisfaction to make Öla do
any work, he is so abominably lazy.
It seemed that the tide of luck was already changing, as both he and
Esau--who was throwing a fly on the river nearer home--brought in a few
nice fish.
Just before bedtime there arrived at the rest-house three Norwegian
tourists of the sterner sex, and a young lady the daughter of one of
them. The father was a barrister, and the other two were the Lord Chief
Justice of what they imagine to be Common Pleas, and a very thin,
dried-up student of theology. They all talked English, and the young
lady seemed anxious to practise the language.
_August 6._--After a gay breakfast Esau went his way to fish, while the
Skipper--ever devoted to the fair sex--offered Miss Louise a cruise in
his canoe.
The sun shone brightly as they moved over the quiet waters, and the fish
were too lazy to rise, but lay idly thoughtful at the bottom of the
lake. The Skipper was very polite to his charming companion, as she sat
in a state of blissful comfort amongst the rugs which he had placed for
her in the bows of the boat; and no sound was heard but the gentle plash
of the paddle in the water, and in the distance the Sæter girl calling
home the grazing cows.
[Illustration: The Skipper takes Miss Louise for a Cruise at
Gjendesheim]
But presently a cloud gathered over the mountain tops, and thunder was
heard rolling among the distant hills; a gentle breeze stirred the
surface of the water, and every lazy fish woke up to seek his food. The
Skipper longed to go and fetch his rod. He hinted at this, and at last
became impatient; but, by Jove! Miss Louise would not go. There she sat
and prattled on, charming, pleased with herself, and utterly unmindful
of the rising fish and the fretting Skipper. Time kept passing on, till
at length her father brought relief by appearing on the shore to call
her in to dinner; but then the Skipper had to get his food too, and when
he had bolted the humble but indigestible crust and cheese, and rushed
out again to seize his rod, he found it too late, as the lake was now
dark with clouds, and the fish had left off rising.
Soon after lunch it began to rain like a waterfall, and Esau arrived
with a lot of fish--spoils from the Leirungen Ocean, and the result of
Spartan indifference to the attractions of woman. There is a shining
moral in this tale.
He also brought a romance about a rainbow, which had been so close to
him that the two ends met at his feet. The rain hereabouts is very
thick.
The evening proved too wet to fish, and this indefatigable young lady
captured Esau, and after exhausting all the ordinary topics of
conversation, began to show him every kind of puzzle that the mind of
man ever conceived, puzzles with coins and puzzles with string; and she
puzzled him with matches, and paper, and corks, till the poor young man
became perfectly dazzled, and only longed for bedtime to put an end to
his misery. Then she asked him riddles, first English and then French.
The Skipper, apparently deeply interested in a book at the further end
of the room, overheard Esau's answer to the first French riddle; it was
'Je le donne en haut.'
Presently, when they went up to bed, the Skipper said, 'I didn't quite
follow your answer to that first riddle of hers. You said, "Je le donne
en haut."' 'Oh! ah!' answered Esau. 'That's idiomatic French, and means
a good deal that you don't understand; I always use it to gals,
especially when they're pretty.' The Skipper coughed, and turned into
his bedroom without saying 'good night.'
We have always been told that the Norwegian aristocracy particularly
dislike the English sportsman in Norway. We think, therefore, that our
fair friend cannot have been of very noble lineage. But she was very
nice and rather pretty.
She left early next morning, and Esau said he was glad she was gone, as
the Skipper was getting entangled with her.