LUCK.
_September 10._--The Skipper caused great sorrow this morning at
breakfast by announcing his intention of leaving Rus Lake on the day
after to-morrow, which ought to be a Sunday, according to our reckoning.
It seems that his conscience upbraids him for leaving a brother to be
married without his assistance, and the House has sadly approved his
decision.
While Esau was having a great day with the trout in the river, the
Skipper went after deer, and came back cursing Fortune and all her
emissaries and signs, which means ravens, horseshoes, spiders, and so
forth. A few days ago, when he was starting on a stalk, he heard a raven
croaking overhead, so refrained from looking up lest he should catch its
eye, and have bad luck; but that raven was not to be balked of his
victim, and obtruded himself so that the Skipper _had_ to see him, and
of course no deer came that day. The next day _two_ ravens crossed his
path, both cawing in the loudest and most jubilant manner; so he was
greatly delighted, thinking that this was a sure precursor of good
sport; but something was wrong, and again no deer resulted. But to-day
two ravens came and cawed in a gentle, soothing, confident manner just
outside the window before we got up: this gave the Skipper great belief
in the turn of luck, and he started with a rope in his pocket to tie up
the deerskins withal, his knife sharpened like a razor, and his bag full
of cartridges. Once again he saw nothing, and was nearly withered away
by the cold wind and rain. Coming home he picked up a horseshoe,
probably the only one in the Jotunfjeld; but the times are out of joint,
and these barometers of fortune have become depressed by the prevailing
bad seasons and the state of the weather, so that they cannot be
depended on.
In spite of the absence of sport he came back raving about the glorious
views of the mountains, which quite repay any one for a long walk now
that they are newly covered with snow. From Nautgardstind looking
northwards, away from the glaciers, a splendid panorama is spread
out--hill, forest, and lake, lighted up by the bright gleams of the
September sun, still shining out bravely at intervals although winter
has begun. Down to the right is the hilly woodland country through which
we journeyed on our way hither, and on the left a vast plain of rolling
ground. Far beyond this rises a towering cluster of high-peaked
mountains, over whose heads float bands of fleecy clouds, while up their
weather-worn sides the cloud-shadows drift and seem to nestle in sleep.
They say these peaks are called Ronderne, but surely when seen on such a
day, 'a dream of heaven' is a better name; for where else on earth can
man be so near heaven as in a lofty solitude like this, where he can
gaze his fill on nature's most beautiful loneliness untouched and
undisturbed by human hand? Öla's ignorance of English enables one to
gloat in silence over such a scene, without any danger of being rudely
recalled to earth by a jarring exclamation of 'Ain't it lovely?' or
'That's about as good as they make 'em, eh?'
[Illustration: Gloptind Rock, at the Western End of Rus Lake]
_September 11._--The Skipper made a last stalk, with his usual luck, not
seeing even a track, though he went into ground that we always
considered a sure find, near the west end of the lake. Near there, and
under the shelter of the curious sugar-loaf rock called Gloptind, there
is a little ruined hut, which was built by a former occupier of Rus Vand
for greater convenience in shooting near that part of the ground. When
we were here before, Esau was obliged to go home prematurely, and the
Skipper and Jens went to stay in this den after his departure, and got
several deer while there. This evening we persuaded the Skipper to tell
us all about it, and after he had put himself in what he considered a
comfortable attitude on the bed, and lighted his pipe, he began.
'Well, when Esau went home, Jens and I were left up here, and got on
very comfortably considering the disadvantages under which the human
race has laboured ever since that unlucky business of the Tower of
Babel.'
'What _does_ he mean?' whispered John anxiously to Esau.
'How should _I_ know?' replied the latter. 'Just listen a bit longer,
and I dare say we shall find out.'
The Skipper went on: 'We went out several days, and walked enormous
distances without seeing any deer, so one day we decided to put a frying
pan, some firewood, and a change of clothes into the boat, and row up to
that little tumbledown stone hut at the other end for a night or two, as
it is in the heart of the most unfrequented country, and there is
nothing near to scare the most timid deer.
'We packed everything into the boat and rowed off one fine morning, the
clouds, however, beginning to hang ominously over the distant mountains.
Jens rowed slowly, so that I could fish on the way, and our progress was
further delayed by a head-wind.
'Very soon the clouds closed in all round, and the sky got very dark.
Jens kept rowing on steadily, from time to time looking up at the high
mountain ridges that wall in the west end of the lake, while I devoted
my attention to whipping the water from the stern, hoping to entice some
unwary fish before the approaching rain should stop our chance of
getting some fresh food. Suddenly he stopped rowing, and uttering the
magic word "Reins," pointed up to an apparently deserted mountain slope
on the Bes Hö side, and handed me the glass, by the aid of which I soon
discovered two reindeer bucks feeding about a mile away, and almost
straight above us.
'I had on a blue serge suit, so the first thing to be done was to change
to my stalking suit then and there in the boat; meanwhile the threatened
rain began to descend in torrents, and the wind swept by in such squalls
that Jens had to work hard to keep the boat in her place. At last the
change was completed, the serge suit stowed away under a mackintosh, and
we got to shore and began our stalk.
'It was a difficult task to keep out of sight while advancing, and we
could only move at intervals when the deer shifted for a few moments
behind a rock or into a hollow in their search for food, so that we had
first to run, when opportunity offered, for a quarter of a mile over
very bad ground, then crawl another quarter over more broken ground; and
at length, after an hour of this, being pretty close to the deer, they
happened to come more into view, and we had to lie prone on our bellies
for nearly twenty minutes (while they fed their way into the next
hollow); and the heavy rain pelted down on us till we were soaked,
sodden, and nearly perished with cold.
'I thought that time of cramped penance would never end, but at last the
hindermost buck got his head safe behind a welcome ridge, and then we
were soon up and after them.'
Here the Skipper stopped to strike a match on his trousers and relight
his pipe, and then resumed: 'Now we knew we must be close to them, and
with rifles cocked, and hearts beating uncomfortably, advanced
expectant. I forgot to tell you that after Esau went home I allowed Jens
to take his rifle out, he was so desperately keen about it.
'Suddenly we came on the bucks only forty yards away, conscious of
danger, but not knowing what they feared; too unsettled to feed, too
uncertain to move.
[Plate: GOOD SPORT, BAD WEATHER. THE SKIPPER'S TWO 'STOR BOCKS.']
'I fired first, and immediately afterwards, as pre-arranged, Jens fired,
and both deer bounded into the air and disappeared like lightning over a
ridge beyond them. We followed at our best pace, I cramming in a couple
of cartridges as we ran, and saw them again directly, still running, and
a good deal further away. I fired two more shots, and one buck fell dead
at once, while the other galloped on about twenty yards further, and
then suddenly stumbled and fell head over heels.
'I fancy that our first shots killed them, and that one was really
killed by Jens, but may I never know for certain! The yell that we gave
when we saw them both lying dead woke the echoes of that dreary
solitude, and must have been worth hearing by any student of human
nature: in a wild shout of triumph there is only one language for all
nations, and Jens and I joined our voices in the same glorious tongue
for once.
'Both these deer were "stor bocks," six years old and fat. We skinned
them there, and leaving the bodies as usual safe under stones, returned
to the boat with the heads and skins. By the way, John, you must have
seen the horns of these two deer on the wall of Besse Sæter, for I had
no means of getting them home, and Jens put them up there.
'The day was drawing to a close when we reached the little stone hut
which was to be our lodging: its roof was full of holes, and let the
rain through like a sieve; but we stretched the two deerskins over it,
and so made it habitable for a time. Inside there is, as you know, only
just room for two men to lie side by side touching each other; and here,
after a liberal meal and a contemplative pipe, we turned in and slept
like honest men.
'Next morning after breakfast, while I was making up a fresh cast for my
rod, I saw a man approaching the hut. As this was the only intrusion
from human beings that we had suffered for more than a month, I was not
a little surprised. Where the deuce could a man come from? and what the
dickens could he want? It soon proved to be old Tronhuus with a note for
Jens.
[Illustration: The old stone Hut near Gloptind]
'I must explain that Besse Sæter where Jens lives belongs to a man who
comes from Christiania, and Jens is only his tenant there. This man had
arrived at his sæter two days before this with a young English nobleman,
whom he was proud to have as his guest, and to whom he naturally wished
to show some sport; but he had been unable to do so for want of a good
stalker. This was of course very unfortunate for him and his guest, but
it by no means justified his present conduct. He had addressed a letter
to Jens, but written it in English, so that I should read it, sending
merely a verbal message to Jens by his father, to ensure our both
knowing the purport of the letter, which was to the following
effect:--"Jens. If you do not return with the bearer of this letter to
Besse Sæter to show myself and Lord ---- some deer, you will at once
lose your tenancy of Besse Sæter." I could not keep Jens and thus cause
him to be unfairly ejected from his home, so having no paper with me,
I wrote in pencil on the back of the note that Peter had brought: "As
you must be aware that Jens is acting as my servant this summer, and
that by calling him away you leave me absolutely alone at the stone hut
on Rus Vand, I hope that you will not detain him after receiving this
note."
'With this missive Jens departed, and soon old Peter followed him, and
left me, like Robinson Crusoe, alone on my desert highland. I am bound
to say that I felt inclined to inquire with Selkirk, "O solitude, where
are the charms?" as I turned to perform the duties of the day,
absolutely deserted in that desolate spot, with no companions but the
lake and solemn mountain heights around me; so after a short time I put
the Lares and Penates----'
'Hollo, what's that?' broke in Esau; 'you never said anything about
bringing that with you before.'
'You duffer!' said the Skipper; 'it's Norwegian for the frying-pan and
tea-kettle: do you mean to say you've been all this time in the country
without learning that?'
'Oh, all right,' grunted Esau, 'go on.'
'Well, I put them into the boat and sculled the seven miles back to this
hut, as I did not feel inclined to remain alone in that little stone
hutch for the night.
'Three days passed before they let Jens return to me; and during that
time I was certainly rather dull, and at night felt a trifle creepy, but
the days did not pass as slowly as you might have imagined; for being
without assistance my time was fully occupied in catching my daily
supply of fish, chopping firewood, cooking, washing, and so on. At night
the wind howled dismally round the cabin walls, but after the hard work
of the day I soon fell asleep, and at last began almost to like the
solitary life. Still I longed for Jens to come back, as I could not go
out stalking alone; the season was far advanced, and the weather very
cold.
'How I cursed that Englishman' (gentle murmurs of 'Bet you did' from the
other two) 'as I cleaned out the tea-pot and scoured the frying-pan! and
how I pictured him to myself wandering with my faithful Jens over the
best reindeer-fjeld, and scaring away all the deer with his
loud-sounding Bond Street express!'
'I say, Skipper,' put in Esau, 'did _his_ Bond Street express make any
more row than _yours_? because if----'
'My dear fellow,' said the Skipper, 'you always put that kind of
expression into narrative; it's Homeric; an educated man would be
pleased with it.
'I was always expecting Jens; every sound, real or imaginary, caused me
to look up over the deserted lake, and hold my breath while I listened
to make out his voice in the distance; and when I went down the river I
heard his cheery shout in the rush of every rapid and the roar of every
fall.
'After all it was only three days, and then one afternoon I found him
waiting for me at the hut. I was glad to see him--gladder than I am to
hear the dinner-bell at home, as glad as a bee is to get into the open
air after bunting its head against a window-pane for three days'
('Beautiful simile!' from John), 'and especially glad to see how pleased
old Jens was to return to me again. I was also not particularly sorry to
hear that he had found a herd of deer and taken Lord ---- within shot;
and the only result was a calf, which Jens himself shot after the
Englishman had missed.
'After this I had a good time with grand fishing and more deer, but we
did not stay much longer at Rus Vand; as you know, I was back in England
by the end of September.'
The story ended, we called the men in and had a great settlement of
wages and milk bills, and arranged how the Skipper's baggage should be
transported tomorrow, and the rest next week.
[Illustration: A Night at Rusvasoset, after a Day at Haircutting]
Then we filled up glasses round with whisky and drank a solemn Skaal
(pronounced Skole) to every one, and then to Gammle Norgé, and finished
the evening with 'Auld Lang Syne.' It must have been a ludicrous sight
as we stood tightly packed in that tiny room, with heads all bent
towards the centre to avoid the rafters, our hands crossed in orthodox
fashion, and roaring at our highest respective pitches as much of the
words as we knew, while we swayed our arms up and down in the manner
essential to the proper rendering of the good old song.
When the men cleared out, Esau produced a gorgeous counterpane which he
had commissioned Peter to buy in Vaage six weeks ago, and which the old
man brought over from Besse Sæter to-day. Its manufacture is peculiar to
this district; it is woven in most tasteful colours, red, magenta, blue,
and green being the most prominent, with a kind of diamond pattern in
white running diagonally across it; but, from the 'What's the next
article?' air with which Esau exhibited it, we began to suspect that he
was rather disappointed with it, and wanted to induce some one to buy
it. Suffice it to say that its introduction was received with coldness.
This was a bad day for sport; we caught very little, and shot less. We
did spy a reindeer directly after breakfast, but as he was about six
miles away, close to the top of one of the highest mountains, and
running as if Loki were after him, no one cared about pursuing him.
John fishing in the lake managed to lose a 'twa and saxpenny' minnow,
trace, and twenty yards of reel line, and was quite discontented.
At night the wind had increased to a storm, and the clouds were right
down on the water, and hurrying past in endless wreathing drifts like
witches trooping to their nocturnal Sabbath.