We were hardly out of the road before we began to ascend, and I
had shortly to stop for breath. My guide, however, if silent was
thoughtful, and he soon caught my gait and knew when to pause. Up
through the dusk we went, he guiding me now by a word telling me how to
step, or now turning to give me his hand to help me up a steep place,
over a large rock, or around a bad angle. For a time we had heard
the roar of the torrent as it boiled below us, but as we ascended it
had gradually hushed, and we at length were in a region of profound
silence. The night was cloudy, and as dark as it ever is in midsummer
in that far northern latitude; but I knew that we were climbing along
the edge of a precipice, on a narrow ledge of rock along the face of
the cliff. The vast black wall above us rose sheer up, and I could feel
rather than see that it went as sheer down, though my sight could not
penetrate the darkness which filled the deep abyss below. We had been
climbing about three hours when suddenly the ledge seemed to die out.
My guide stopped, and unwinding his rope from his waist, held it out to
me. I obeyed his silent gesture, and binding it around my body gave him
the end. He wrapped it about him, and then taking me by the arm, as if
I had been a child, he led me slowly along the narrow ledge around the
face of the wall, step by step, telling me where to place my feet, and
waiting till they were firmly planted. I began now to understand why no
one ever went "over the mountain" in the day. We were on a ledge nearly
three thousand feet high. If it had not been for the strong, firm hold
on my arm, I could not have stood it. As it was I dared not think.
Suddenly we turned a sharp angle and found ourselves in a curious
semicircular place, almost level and fifty or sixty feet deep in the
concave, as if a great piece had been gouged out of the mountain by the
glacier which must once have been there.
"This is a curious place," I ventured to say.
"It is," said my guide. "It is the Devil's Seat. Men have died here."
His tone was almost fierce. I accepted his explanation silently. We
passed the singular spot and once more were on the ledge, but except
in one place it was not so narrow as it had been the other side of the
Devil's Seat, and in fifteen minutes we had crossed the summit and the
path widened a little and began to descend.
"You do well," said my guide, briefly, "but not so well as Doctor
John." I was well content with being ranked a good second to the doctor
just then.
The rain had ceased, the sky had partly cleared, and, as we began to
descend, the early twilight of the northern dawn began to appear. First
the sky became a clear steel-gray and the tops of the mountains became
visible, the dark outlines beginning to be filled in, and taking on a
soft color. This lightened rapidly, until on the side facing east they
were bathed in an atmosphere so clear and transparent that they seemed
almost within a stone's throw of us, while the other side was still
left in a shadow which was so deep as to be almost darkness. The gray
lightened and lightened into pearl until a tinge of rose appeared, and
then the sky suddenly changed to the softest blue, and a little later
the snow-white mountain-tops were bathed in pink, and it was day.
I could see in the light that we were descending into a sort of upland
hollow between the snow-patched mountain-tops; below us was a lovely
little valley in which small pines and birches grew, and patches of the
green, short grass which stands for hay shone among the great bowlders.
Several little streams came jumping down as white as milk from the
glaciers stuck between the mountain-tops, and after resting in two or
three tiny lakes which looked like hand-mirrors lying in the grass
below, went bubbling and foaming on to the edge of the precipice, over
which they sprang, to be dashed into vapor and snow hundreds of feet
down. A half-dozen sheep and as many goats were feeding about in the
little valley; but I could not see the least sign of a house, except a
queer, brown structure, on a little knoll, with many gables and peaks,
ending in the curious dragon-pennants, which I recognized as one of the
old Norsk wooden churches of a past age.
When, however, an hour later, we had got down to the table-land, I
found myself suddenly in front of a long, quaint, double log cottage,
set between two immense bowlders, and roofed with layers of birch bark,
covered with turf, which was blue with wild pansies. It was as if it
were built under a bed of heart's-ease. It was very old, and had
evidently been a house of some pretension, for there was much curious
carving about the doors, and indeed about the whole front, the dragon's
head being distinctly visible in the design. There were several lesser
houses which looked as if they had once been dwellings, but they seemed
now to be only stables.
As we approached the principal door it was opened, and there
stepped forth one of the most striking figures I ever saw--a young
woman, rather tall, and as straight as an arrow. My friend's words
involuntarily recurred to me, "A daughter of the Vikings," and then,
somehow, I too had the feeling he had expressed, "Poor thing!" Her
figure was one of the richest and most perfect I ever beheld. Her face
was singularly beautiful; but it was less her beauty than her nobility
of look and mien combined with a certain sadness which impressed me.
The features were clear and strong and perfectly carved. There was a
firm mouth, a good jaw, strong chin, a broad brow, and deep blue eyes
which looked straight at you. Her expression was so soft and tender
as to have something pathetic in it. Her hair was flaxen, and as fine
as satin, and was brushed perfectly smooth and coiled on the back of
her shapely head, which was placed admirably on her shoulders. She was
dressed in the coarse, black-blue stuff of the country, and a kerchief,
also dark blue, was knotted under her chin, and fell back behind her
head, forming a dark background for her silken hair.
Seeing us she stood perfectly still until we drew near, when she made
a quaint, low courtesy and advanced to meet her father with a look of
eager expectancy in her large eyes.
"Elsket," he said, with a tenderness which conveyed the full meaning of
the sweet pet term, "darling."
There was something about these people, peasants though they were,
which gave me a strange feeling of respect for them.
"This is Doctor John's friend," said the old man, quietly.
She looked at her father in a puzzled way for a moment, as if she had
not heard him, but as he repeated his introduction a light came into
her eyes, and coming up to me she held out her hand, saying, "Welcome."
Then turning to her father--"Have you a letter for me, father?" she
asked.
"No, Elsket," he said, gently; "but I will go again next month."
A cloud settled on her face and increased its sadness, and she turned
her head away. After a moment she went into the house and I saw that
she was weeping. A look of deep dejection came over the old man's face
also.