“Many times he would go into the forest of the peeke, and set up
ther his tent, with great provision of viteles, and would
remaine ther vii weeks or more hunting and making other worthy
pastimes unto his company.”--HUNTER’S _South Yorkshire_.
UNSUCCESSFUL FISHING--A MILITARY OFFICER--THE DERNIER
RESSORT--OUR GIPSY RECEPTION--INTERRUPTED TOILETTE--FÊTE
CHAMPÊTRE--DANCING ON THE GREENSWARD--TINCTURE OF CEDAR--THE
DISAPPOINTMENT--THE LOSNA VAND--THE KETTLE PROP LOST--PEASANT
CHILDREN--INTERESTING DISCUSSIONS--WRITING UNDER
DIFFICULTIES--THE KINDLY HEART.
When frokost (Nor., breakfast) was over, we sent Noah and Zachariah to
the Logan, with a fishing-rod each, and some trout-flies. Esmeralda
stayed at the tents, and added to the remains of the former stock of
soup, some rice, Liebig’s essence of meat, pea flour, and some
mushrooms, gathered _en route_. She prepared some excellent soup for
middags-mad (Nor., dinner). Esmeralda was standing outside the tents,
when a traveller from Throndhjem came up with his Skydskarl from the
road; he spoke to her in English, but she did not appear to understand
him. When we came out of the tents, the stranger bowed, and said it was
a pleasant way of travelling. He asked if we were Italians, at the same
time looking at Esmeralda. We informed him the others were Romanys. He
wished to know if we had our wife with us, and we informed him we were
not married. Then our visitor asked how we managed in the rain, and when
he had looked round our camp, politely took off his hat, and left. Noah
and Zachariah returned without having had a rise. Leaving them in charge
of the camp, Esmeralda and myself went to see a waterfall, but, missing
our way in the forest, we returned laden with ferns, foxgloves, and
lichens. We found at our camp a very respectably dressed young woman,
accompanied by a girl with scanty white petticoat, barelegs and feet.
Getting out our dictionary, we told them they should have some music, if
they came at seven that evening. They mentioned otta klokken (Nor.,
eight o’clock), and it was so arranged. Noah and Zachariah having played
them two or three tunes, our visitors left. The soup at dinner was
excellent, and with some bread and butter, made a good meal. The weather
now became very fine; we seated ourselves on a mossy bank, some short
distance at the edge of the tangled thickets of the forest, which
skirted our camp. Gleams of sunshine enlivened the scene. Esmeralda was
busily cleaning our boots, when we noticed close to us, a tall,
gentlemanly, Norwegian officer. He wore a military cap, and had come
along a narrow pathway through the trees. We had not heard his
footsteps, and as he paused for a moment, a faint smile seemed to play
on his countenance. We bowed, and asked him if he spoke English, but
finding he was not able to do so, we sent Noah to show him the donkeys.
Noah was busily levelling, with our camp spade, certain inequalities of
the small terrace near our camp, so that our visitors might have level
turf for their dancing in the evening. When the officer returned, he
appeared to wish to say something in English; a dictionary was handed
to him, but that failing, Mr. Bennett’s “Dialogue Book” was given as a
_dernier ressort_. Whilst he was in search of words, Esmeralda was busy
brushing our clothes; sometimes he was turning over the pages, and
sometimes he seemed rather astonished and amused at Esmeralda’s style of
brushing, especially when she pulled our coat, and gave us a bang with
the brush for not turning round. In vain he searched the “Dialogue
Book,” and then he shook his head. Esmeralda completed her task, and
declared we looked five pounds better. We then showed the officer the
tents.
It was with much regret, we felt our inability to converse, yet it is
astonishing what can be done, by a few words and signs. His carriage was
in the road below. The day had become pleasant and warm; Zachariah and
Esmeralda seated themselves on the mossy bank by the terrace, not far
from our tents. Soon their wild music might be heard in the forest. The
driver and a boy belonging to the officer’s carriage came up. A militia
soldier marching along the road in a light suit of jean, with his
knapsack on his back, was called up by his officer, whom he saluted. Our
audience was complete. The officer was going to the militia encampment
we had noticed as we came from Lillehammer. The music seemed to please
him; he laughed at Zachariah’s wild comicality. When they had finished,
with an exchange of salutations, he wished us good-by, and left. Our
visitors were now gone. Noah and Zachariah washed themselves; and we had
our tea, with potted tongue, and bread and cheese. As we were seated by
our camp-fire, a tall old man, looking round our tents, came and stood
contemplating us at our tea. He looked as if he thought we were enjoying
a life of happiness. Nor was he wrong. He viewed us with a pleased, and
kindly expression, as he seemed half lost in contemplation. We sent for
the flask of brandy, and he drank to Gamle Norge (Nor., Old Norway), and
then left to see the donkeys. In a few minutes Esmeralda cleaned and
re-packed our tea things.
Returning to our tent we put on our Napoleon boots, and made some
additions to our toilette; whilst we were so engaged, some women came to
the tents. The curiosity of the sex was exemplified, for they were dying
to look behind the tent-partition which screened us from observation. We
don’t know what they expected to see; one bolder than the rest, could
not resist the desire, to look behind the scenes, and hastily drew back
and dropped the curtain, when we said rather sharply, “Nei! nei!”
Esmeralda shortly afterwards appeared in her blue dress and silver
buttons. Then we all seated ourselves on a mossy bank, on the side of
the terrace, with a charming view across the valley of the Logan. At
eight o’clock the music commenced. The sun shone beautifully, and the
mosquitoes and midges bit right and left, with hungry determination. We
sat in line on the soft mossy turf of the grassy slope, sheltered by
foliage, Esmeralda and Noah with their tambourines, myself with the
castanets, and Zachariah with his violin. We had not played very long,
when a man passing along the road below heard the music, and ran up.
Much astonished he seemed, as he stood at a short distance from us, on
the side of the terrace, and gazed at each by turn. When a tune ended
he smiled approvingly. Some peasant women and girls came up after we had
played a short time. It was a curious scene. Our tents were pleasantly
pitched on an open patch of green sward, surrounded by bordering
thickets, near the sunny bank, and the small flat terrace, which Noah
had levelled in the morning. The main road was immediately below; and
down the valley rolled the wide river Logan, with a picturesque island,
dividing its rapid stream. The rising hills and rugged ravines on the
other side the valley, all gave a singular, and romantic beauty to the
lovely view. Although our gipsies played with much spirit until nine
o’clock, none of the peasants would dance. At nine o’clock our music
ceased, and we all retired to our tents, with the intention of going to
bed. When we were going into our tents, a peasant, and several others
with him, who had just arrived, asked us to play again. We declined, for
we had already played an hour, and merely did so for our own will and
pleasure. The peasants appeared very anxious, and offered us a three or
four skilling piece, which we politely refused. At length, observing
several peasant girls were very much disappointed, we decided to play
once more, It was past nine o’clock when we again took up our position
on the mossy bank. Noah was accepted by one of the Norwegian girls as a
partner, and we made another couple with a good-looking young peasant
“pige” (Nor., girl). When she was tired, we danced with Esmeralda. Both
partners managed the schottische famously on the level turf. So we
danced, and the peasant girls, until nearly ten o’clock. The terrace was
rather limited in extent. Once we nearly whirled ourself and Esmeralda
over the slope, and into the road below. The gipsies suffered grievously
from musketos early in the evening.
“Ah!” said we to the gipsies, “that is soon prevented.”
Producing a bottle of tincture of cedar, which a Canadian friend had
heard was an infallible remedy, all our gipsies’ faces, including our
own, were carefully painted over with the brown liquid. For the
information of our readers, we can only say it was a decided failure,
and after several trials, in which the tincture only seemed to irritate
the skin, without deterring in the slightest degree, the rapacity of
hundreds of devouring insects, tincture of cedar was voted a miserable
delusion, and a provoking sham.
Soon after we had wished our visitors “god aften,” (Nor., good evening)
and had retired to our tents, a carriage pulled up in the road below.
The occupants came up and walked round our camp. We did not see them,
but were told afterwards by our gipsies, that one of our visitors, was
the young man who had assisted us with our provision case at
Lillehammer.
At half-past two o’clock the next morning, Tuesday, the twenty-eighth of
June, all were moving. The idea that we were first up was speedily
proved incorrect. Directly we left our tents, a Norwegian tramp, of torn
and tattered appearance, came and gazed at our camp in mute
astonishment, and then silently departed.
Esmeralda was soon up. Our kettle of soup was put ready to boil for
breakfast, and the fire was lighted. Noah took charge of the kettle and
pepper. The soup was boiled, and served out in our bowls, as we sat in
the rather dull, cloudy, cold morning round the fire. Never shall we
forget Zachariah’s look of epicurean disappointment, and misery, as he
tasted the soup, and threw down his spoon.
“Now then, Noah, I can’t eat it!” We could not help laughing. Then it
was tasted by ourselves. Esmeralda tasted it. Noah had literally deluged
it with pepper. The soup was condemned. Noah took our anything but
complimentary remarks upon his cuisine, with his usual good-temper, and,
as if to show that the soup was really not so bad, he finished our
shares as well as his own. Slices of bread and butter were cut for
ourself, Esmeralda, and Zachariah, and we decided that Noah should never
again attempt any culinary operations.
Hastily striking camp, all our things were packed and loaded. Our party
left the camp ground at half-past five o’clock.
On the right of the road, going to Holmen, a short distance below our
camp, we passed the mile-stone which marked two and a half Norsk miles,
or seventeen and a half English miles from Lillehammer.
At Holmen bread could not be purchased, but we were told that we could
get some at a house beyond, where Esmeralda afterwards bought eight
loaves for two marks and a half. Several men followed us along the road
to see our donkeys.
Passing a small sheet of water, some crows on the the bank were so tame
that they allowed us to come close to them. The Norwegian crow has some
white about it, but in size it is much the same as the English crow.
As we reached the shores of the Losna Vand, a long narrow lake, the rain
clouds seemed to be gathering over some very picturesque mountains near
its shores.[39] Coming to a small recess of ground, by a stream of water
on the road side near the lake, a halt was called--in truth we were
rather hungry. The remembrance of the hot soup had not become effaced
from Zachariah’s memory. When our things were unpacked, it was at once
discovered, that our kettle prop had been left at our last camp. We were
much annoyed, not only on account of the difficulty of boiling our
things, but with regard to making holes in the ground for our tent
raniers. As a substitute for our lost kettle prop, two Alpine stocks
were brought into use, and some twisted wire was fastened between them,
to suspend our kettle over the fire. Whilst we were engaged in preparing
our meal, the rain storm gathered on the hills at the head of the lake.
All our baggage was safely stowed away under our invaluable siphonia
tent cover. Esmeralda was also sheltered in a comfortable place amongst
the baggage. As her brothers and ourselves were pouring out the tea, it
began to rain heavily. Soon afterwards, we found the donkeys had strayed
out of sight, and Noah had to follow them at least half a mile, before
he could bring them back to the camp.
A woman soon made her appearance and begged. We think she lived in a
house on the road side, not very far from where we were. Four skillings
seemed to please her very much. Then came a little boy dressed in only
a few rags, who seated himself near our camp as we were taking our
breakfast. The rain had almost ceased for a short time. The boy looked
so piteous, as we were demolishing, with considerable appetite, tea,
bread and butter, and sardines, that we could not help giving him some
bread and butter. The little fellow said nothing, but putting out his
hand, he clasped ours with a look of intense gratitude. Then came three
small girls, and they also had bread and butter. The rain recommenced,
but, breakfast being finished, Esmeralda was carefully covered up. Noah
and Zachariah immediately disappeared underneath some part of the
waterproof and fell asleep. We retired also, with our head just out, so
that we could observe the travellers passing along the road. Several
peasants came up, and stared at the donkeys, as they stood in the rain,
near our dark mass of siphonian waterproof, with nothing else to be
seen, but our head. They asked a number of questions with very little
result, after which the donkies were again examined. Their mouths were
opened, teeth reckoned, and their conformation carefully noted. Their
tails were handled. Sometimes one of the donkeys, on such occasions,
would move his hind leg, and great was the rush to get out of his way.
We were asked their ages. The visit generally wound up with an earnest
discussion amongst themselves, in which we could distinguish the words
asen (donkeys), and heste (horses), often repeated.
Another group of women and men soon came to the spot, and, as we rested
on our elbows with our head, out of our waterproof, we were again the
subject of farther interrogatory. It is probable they did not elicit
much, though our vocabulary improved with the journey. A peasant drove
up with a crippled militia man. The driver at once got down in haste. He
was particularly curious about the donkeys; in fact the three donkeys
were evidently expected to be seen somewhere on the route, and they had
become the subject of eager anxiety.
At one time, we almost expected to see the lone figure of the Birmingham
bagman, in the driving rain, on the lake side, hovering near our
donkeys, but he never came. Rain, rain, ever rain. We tried to write our
notes, but our pencil formed all kinds of arabesque lines in zigzag
pattern, which still remain in our note-book, and we fell asleep. The
falling book awoke us to consciousness, and the necessity for action. We
gave Esmeralda some quinine and water, and took some ourselves. Taking
advantage of a lull in the rain-storm, the order was given to pack up,
and we were soon _en route_.
The Losna Vand is a picturesque lake, but its beauty would have been
more appreciated on a fine day. Our party travelled on, till we crossed
a bridge over a stream, at the foot of a wild gorge. At the house near,
we obtained two loaves of rye bröd, and half a pound of butter for 9_d._
The rain poured down heavily. We took shelter from the driving rain and
wind, for a short time, to the leeward of a small log hut, on the shore
of the lake by the roadside, whilst the donkeys stood under the wall on
the other side the road. The gipsies were as lively as usual, though
they were wet through, and had no change. We had our light siphonia
waterproof on, and Esmeralda her long Alpine cloak. The gipsies sang,
whilst Zachariah tumbled, and danced, and laughed, and pulled all kinds
of dreadful faces. Then Noah found a curious round stone of quartz, but
it was too heavy to carry. Some women came and looked at us with
curious interest. We did not stay long. Notwithstanding the wind and
rain, we must continue our journey, till we come to some spot where we
can camp. When we had passed a short distance along the road, an
interesting child, who had come down from a log cottage above, offered
us a skilling. The little girl and her parents had evidently
commiserated our forlorn condition as nomad wanderers, and were anxious
to give their unsolicited assistance. It will not be forgotten in their
account with the next world. We were obliged to refuse, and, shaking the
little girl by the hand, bade her farewell. May she have long happiness
in life, as her kind heart deserves.