“Let us rest a bit in our tent this fine evening to collect our
memoranda from the note-book hurriedly pencilled. Yet it is not
easy to withdraw the eye from the beautiful picture before us,
framed by the curtains of our canvas boudoir.”--_The Rob Roy on
the Jordan._
OUR FIRST CAMP--CAMP VISITORS--GIPSY MUSIC--FOREIGN
TABLEAU--CURIOUS OBSERVATIONS--PREPARATIONS FOR DEPARTURE--EARLY
START--LAING’S SUGGESTIONS--THE GUDBRANSDALEN--THE HUNNEFOS--THE
AUSTRALIAN MEAT--CAMP RULES--THE PAIR OF GLOVES--SUDDEN
SHADOWS--OUR TALISMAN--NEW FRIENDS.
The Mjösen is a fine lake. The scenery is not bold, or imposing in wild
and rugged outline, but it is beautiful and pleasing. There is a
richness often wanted in the wilder scenes of nature. Our contemplation
must be short; we have work to do. Noah with my Tennant’s geological
hammer soon began to loosen the nails of the provision-case. A crowd of
boys, who gathered round, and the tall man in the background, rendered
the group of spectators a complete study; there was an expression of
deep interest as Noah loosened every nail. Our gipsies had been well
cared-for by the gallant captain of the _Dronningen_. He had kindly
arranged for our people to pitch their tents on some waste ground near
the lake; the woman of the house above seemed to exercise a sort of
right over it, and had agreed to supply our people with food at the
house. She was an energetic old woman, with not a very good-tempered
expression of countenance, but she had been very attentive.
The captain had on the previous evening taken our gipsies in a boat
across the lake. They had spent the evening very pleasantly with himself
and wife. Some sympathy was expressed for the separation of Esmeralda
from her husband, referring to myself. The gipsies, we afterwards
understood, had a gay time on board the _Dronningen_; they played at the
captain’s request, who collected quite a fortune for them. Noah and
Zachariah[33] were also treated to cigars, and various liquids by the
passengers. Their voyage on the Mjösen Lake seemed to have been
unusually gay. Once more we were in camp, and the boys from the town
above kept accumulating round our tents. Then we went up the road
towards Lillehammer with our maps, and examined the route, and the
direction ready for our journey next morning. When we returned, it was
eight o’clock. There were so many people about, that Esmeralda and
myself went up to the woman’s house to have coffee. Noah and Zachariah
afterwards took their turn whilst we stayed at the tents. Noah had our
instructions to pay the woman, but he was quite unable to regulate the
account. We found the old woman, who was exceedingly polite, charged us
three dollars for our coffee that evening, and a day and a half board
for our gipsies, and the use of the waste ground. The charge was nearly
as much as we had paid at the comfortable inn at Eidsvold, with lodgings
for a longer period. The gipsies had promised her some music; and as we
were anxious to pass the time until the people should disperse,
Esmeralda and Zachariah came up to play one or two tunes. We had an
upstairs room, very bare of furniture, containing only a small table and
sofa and two or three chairs. Esmeralda sat on the sofa, and myself and
Zacharia at each end of the table. Away went the violin and the
tambourine, waltzes and polkas, in rapid succession. The old woman
walked about in an ecstacy. Very shortly afterwards a large crowd of
both sexes appeared at the doors of the room, and we motioned for them
to dance or sit down. In came the steward of the steamer, smoking a
cigar, and the cashier with him. Bang, bang, went the tambourine.
Esmeralda, with her dark eyes flashing, was no mean tambourinist. With
regard to dancing they seem very diffident. Chairs were brought, and the
steward and cashier were accommodated. The former smoked, and seemed on
the best of terms with himself and everybody else. He was a
good-humoured, good-tempered fellow, and pressed us to have something to
drink. Notwithstanding we declined, in came the woman of the house with
two bottles of beer and glasses for us. The bottles were uncorked and
the steward came to pour out the beer; but although he pressed us to
take some, and also to allow our gipsies to do so, we were firm in our
determination. With an air of almost disappointment that we did not
accept their hospitality, he returned to his seat. Jingle, jingle, went
the brasses of the tambourine. The room, and passages to it became quite
thronged. The steward smoked; the cashier seemed, we thought, to look
with apparent admiration at our tambourinist. We had evidently an
appreciative audience. The assemblage reminded us, as we sat there in
quiet contemplation, of one of those foreign scenes at times represented
in dramas in London. Gipsies, foreign costumes, log-house, landlady,
peasants with knives at their sides, steward of steamer and cashier,
wild strip of broken ground below the house, tents, donkeys, steamer,
and the lake beautiful with the shadow of declining day--all the
elements of romance were there, and it was a reality.
We looked at our watch: it was nearly ten. We rose, and passing through
the visitors wished them good evening, and were soon seated in our
tents. Group after group of people came thronging down, taking a cursory
glance, as they passed, as if unwilling to intrude. We were busy
arranging and packing our things for the next morning: some would now
and then peep in; one went so far as to take hold of our tent carpet and
examine it. Another laid hold of our iron kettle-prop outside, and it
was amusing to see the earnest discussion that was going on as to its
use. An intelligent man with a benign smile made a motion with it, as if
making holes in the ground, and whilst pointing to the tent-rods looked
at us for confirmation. He was evidently much gratified by our nod of
assent. The centre of attraction were the donkeys; party after party
from Lillehammer swept by our tents along the broken ground, to the spot
where our donkeys stood. They were examined with an earnestness which
showed our friends to be warmly attached to the subject of natural
history. The steward came up to our tents, soon after we left the house,
and pressed us to come with him on board the steamer, but we declined;
whereupon he took off his hat and left. The goods porter of the steamer
wandered about our tents for some time, and at last came up and said he
wanted half a dollar more for the carriage of the case. When we took out
our money to pay him, he said it was a dollar. Perhaps we misunderstood
him at first. The captain had said we had nothing more to pay; but, not
having any time to investigate the matter, we trusted to the proverbial
honesty of the Norwegians, and so paid the dollar required. Taking
advantage of a lull in the number of the visitors, as it was becoming
late, the case was unpacked. Then more visitors came; but we went on and
repacked our provisions in our bags, for carriage the next morning on
our donkeys. Some of the lookers-on near our tents criticised our
biscuits, and especially our pea-flour which was scattered over
everything. They did so good humouredly, and seemed astonished at our
stores. Zachariah launched the empty case on the lake below. Our
visitors at last became few in number, and less frequent.
Esmeralda carefully packed up her dress with the silver buttons. She had
hung it on a bush near the tents after they had arrived at Lillehammer.
The blue dress and the silver buttons gleaming in the sun must have been
a pleasing sight. At last we went to bed; that is, we retired to sleep
on our waterproof rug and carpet within our tent partition. The
indistinct sound of voices outside our tents and the noise of persons
who appeared to be wandering about the donkeys still continued, but we
were all soon asleep: The thermometer had been at 86° Fahrenheit in the
day.
* * * * *
The hum of a small mosquito awoke us at about two o’clock in the
morning; at half-past two o’clock we roused our gipsies. The things were
soon packed on the donkeys by Noah, who was an excellent packer. We
finally struck our camp at three o’clock A.M. The house where our coffee
had been supplied the previous evening was shut up, and wrapt in
silence; the woman of the house was possibly slumbering with the three
dollars under her pillow. The steamer lay moored at the wooden pier,
where the steward and cashier, if they slept on board, may have been
dreaming of the dark-eyed gitana.
How silent all seemed in the early morning on the banks of the Mjösen
Vand. Not a soul stirring, save one solitary fisherman in his boat in
the far distance upon the lake. With our Alpine stocks, tents, and
baggage, donkeys and gipsies, we slowly ascended the road to
Lillehammer. How delightful in the freshness of the early morning to
commence our nomadic wandering of many days. Laing says, in his
excellent work on Norway,[34] “A young and clever English sportsman,
especially if he had a taste, also, for any branch of natural history,
ought to pass a summer very agreeably with his rifle, fishing-rod, and
his tent, among the fjelde and lakes, encamping where fancy and sport
might lead him, and carry all his accommodation on a couple of ponies.”
As we passed through the town of Lillehammer we noticed that most of the
windows were shut; the inhabitants were enjoying their morning sleep. We
felt thankful that we carried our home with us. Lillehammer is not
without its associations; its former cathedral and monastery were
originally founded by an Englishman, Nicholas Breakspear, in 1160. He
was afterwards Pope Hadrian IV. As we passed down the long street, one
man was on the look-out; with hot haste he rushed to the back of the
house, as if to apprise some one else of our coming; he returned as we
were going by, and said “Ya, ya!” when we asked if we were in the right
road for Holmen; then standing in the street, he gazed after us until we
were out of sight.
With feelings of bright anticipation we had entered the long and fertile
valley of the Gudbrandsdalen.[35] Commencing at Lillehammer, the valley
of Gudbransdalen extends 168 miles to the foot of Dovre Fjeld. Our route
is on the right bank of the Logen. Many cultivated farms occupy the
lower portions of the often narrow valley on each side of the main road,
while hills and pine woods rise above them on either side.
We all felt particularly hungry as we pushed on for some distance along
a good road on the right of the river Logen. Coming to a small stream of
water on the road-side, we partly unloaded our donkeys; on a small space
of rough ground the gipsies lighted a fire, and prepared our breakfast
of tea, sardines, and college biscuits. One large carriage and pair
passed us _en route_ for Lillehammer; a pony with carriole was tied
behind it, and all were jogging along at a comfortable pace, with the
occupants fast asleep. Noah commenced repacking our donkeys, when a
timber cart passed with two men upon it; one wore a red cap. They
stopped and scanned our donkeys with curious eyes; then they wished to
know why we did not use the donkeys to draw a carriage. The man in the
red cap offered Esmeralda a seat on his timber, which, though kindly
meant, was not accepted. They went on before us, and evidently made
known our coming, for from time to time men and women rushed up to the
fences on the road-side to look at our cavalcade;--it was a very
picturesque one, including Zachariah almost fast asleep on one of the
loaded donkeys. As we proceeded we were overtaken by a carriage, in
which we recognised the inn porter who had assisted us with our case
from the steamer. The two travellers in the carriage had been our
fellow-passengers by the steamer on the Mjösen; they took off their
hats. Another carriage afterwards followed, and another steam-boat
passenger took off his hat and recognised us again. We were now some
miles from Lillehammer, and Noah was sent to try a roadside house for
bread; the woman, who spoke a little English, recommended a house
beyond. Coming soon after to an old road leading below the new main
route--along the edge a deep declivity covered with trees and bushes,
which formed the lofty bank of the rapid foaming river Logen--we halted.
We were in sight of the falls called the Hunnefos. The river is broad
and rapid; and the falls, although not of great height, are nevertheless
picturesque. Above the old road an embankment of loose stones sloped up
to the main route, which was not very far above us, although overlooked
from the road; the spot now overgrown with short turf was sufficiently
level and out of the way for our camp. We were all rather sleepy, and
wanted rest; the day had become very hot. Esmeralda had not felt very
well; a very small quantity of quinine helped her on the journey. Having
decided to remain here, the donkeys were driven down the old road for a
short distance. From this spot we had a beautiful view of the falls; our
camp was probably not far from the station of Aronsveen. It was
delightful to lounge among our baggage after we had unpacked. The road
being a sort of cul-de-sac, we left the donkeys to ramble below. Noah
went in search of bread and butter to a farm-house, and procured a small
loaf and half a pound of butter, for one mark and a half; the loaf was
black bread and small. Several very heavy showers came on, but our light
siphonia waterproof from Edmiston’s kept all our things perfectly dry.
Dinner was prepared at about one o’clock; a case of the Australian
cooked mutton was opened: with some hesitation we had added Australian
meat to our commissariat; we had ventured to take it, like the skater
who tries the ice for the first time. Our sardine-opener in the form of
a fish, which cost 6_d._, soon gave us access to the tin of meat. All
pronounced the Australian preserved mutton excellent. Esmeralda, who had
been very sleepy and not very well, though revived by the quinine, did
not entirely recover until after dinner. A bottle of claret was shared
amongst us. It was our first day in camp, and our rule of no stimulants
or smoking allowed was not rigidly enforced. Two songs with the guitar
enlivened the party; then a duet, violin and guitar; afterwards a duet,
violin and tambourine; finale, all the instruments together. Noah was
chaffed as usual. The sun became so hot after dinner, that we could
scarcely bear our terrace, placed as we were at the foot of an
embankment of loose bare rocks. The donkeys escaped and went towards
Lillehammer. Noah had fallen asleep, but starting up in a sort of
stupor, at length succeeded in bringing them back. Some of the people
passing along the main route stopped to gaze at Noah. Some few came
down, and a small glass of brandy was handed to them to drink Gamle
Norge. It was after all very convenient not to be able to answer all the
questions asked; much trouble was saved. We had provisions, and it was
not of much consequence to us, in the way we had chosen to travel, if we
did not understand many words, and could not satisfy all curiosity. The
trout from the Mjösen, it is said, cannot ascend the falls of the
Honnefos; they are exceedingly good, and some are stated to have weighed
36 lbs. Gipsies being a restless people, Noah and Zachariah were sent to
fish with two rods and some small trout flies; we had no hope of their
catching anything, but it employed their time, and was an occupation for
them. The water was a light snowy blue, with a strong and rapid stream.
Esmeralda felt sleepy, and was threatened with the loss of a pair of
gloves; yet we felt that we could not play with her, or approach her on
any other terms than were honourable to both. We worked at our notes and
maps while the gipsy maiden slept, and her brothers slashed the water in
the rapids below; about seven o’clock Noah and Zachariah returned, as I
expected, without any matchee (fish).[36] A number of people came down
the embankment occasionally to look with curious interest on the
donkeys. The animals were carefully examined, and another page was added
to the natural history of Aronsveen. One interesting young person came
and looked from the road above at Noah with much interest; she
afterwards came a second time, and lingered ere she left. We decided
that, as we had started so early, we should rest where we were for the
night, and start early the next morning, about four o’clock.
Noah, after a coaching in Norwegian words, went to seek bread-and-butter
(smör og bröd) at the farm-house. He was to display some money in his
open hand as an additional inducement. No result being reported on his
return, we sent him a second time to the charge for fladbröd, but they
had not got any to part with. We lighted our fire; tea was made, and a
pleasant meal of fried bacon, college biscuits and butter, was soon
concluded. Bread was bought, when we had the chance, in order to save
our biscuits.
It was now decided to have our tents pitched for the night. Noah had
just made the holes with the kettle-prop, and was putting in the tent
rods, when a number of people suddenly appeared at the edge of the
embankment above. Down came a tall gentleman, apparently between fifty
and sixty, followed by probably his son and a short stout gentleman. He
said something in a tone of authority to Noah, who, not understanding
what was said, went on calmly with his tent-pitching. We were at a short
distance from Noah with Esmeralda, arranging some of our baggage. It
appeared to us that something about illegal was said: breakers ahead
crossed our mind; we must port helm. We advanced to Noah’s assistance,
and said in Norsk--“Good evening;” then we quietly reached out our
silver-mounted flask, and pouring out a small glass of brandy, handed it
to the senior of the party. He handed it back politely for us to drink
first. We just tasted it, and said, Gamle Norge.[37] He took a small
sip and then emptied the glass. We poured out another and handed it to
the younger visitor, whom we took to be the son, a well-dressed,
nice-looking, gentlemanly young fellow, who drank some of it. His father
seemed one whose views of the world were stern and not on the lively
side of the picture. His son had a pleasant twinkle in the eye, and
seemed rather amused at the scene. The father then began apparently
asking questions. We did not understand much of what he said, and Noah
and Zachariah continued putting in the tent-rods, without troubling
themselves about the matter. It was necessary to say something, and we
informed them we were going at four o’clock next morning, pointing to
our watch; and thinking it best to clench the affair, we quietly opened
our courier-bag, and handed the document kindly given us by the Presten
Eilert Sundt. We felt much in the position of the Harlequin and
Columbine, who are suddenly brought to a dead lock in a Christmas
representation, and have to invoke for their safety some good genius of
extraordinary power. We quickly observed the countenance of the senior
gentleman who commenced reading. “Herr Hubert Smith from England, with
Tater (Rommanes gipsies), three donkeys, and two tents, &c., travelling
from Christiania to Romsdal, Voringfos, &c., to Christiansand, to see
the country and study the Norwegian gipsies, etc.; with a final request
that we should have help and assistance from his countrymen,” &c.[38]
When our visitors came to the signature, “Eilert Sundt!!!” said the
senior gentleman in a deep whisper to his son; the son, who was also
looking over the paper, seemed equally astonished. They examined the
seal for a few moments, and handed the document back. Without saying
more, they watched the tents which were put up soon after. They seemed
rather surprised at our tent with all its paraphernalia and fittings,
and then politely lifting their hats and bowing, without another word
they suddenly left the scene. The people who were collected on the top
of the embankment as spectators evidently did not seem to understand how
it was. Perhaps some terrific example was expected to be made of our
tall gipsy, Noah, as a warning to all the gipsies in Norway. It is
impossible to say, and probably it will remain one of the links in the
history of our wanderings which can never be supplied, nor is it of much
consequence.