“We remounted, and I rode on, thinking of the vision of
loveliness I was leaving in that wild dell. We travel a great
way to see hills and rivers, thought I; but, after all, a human
being is a more interesting object than a mountain. I shall
remember the little gipsy of Hadjilar long after I have
forgotten Hermus and Sipylus.”
N. P. WILLIS.
THE VELOCIPEDE--ROADSIDE HALT--LOVELY SCENERY--DISAPPOINTED
AUDIENCE--THE LITTLE GIPSY--THE LOST POCKET--THE SEARCH--GIPSY
LAMENTATION--AMUSED PEASANT GIRLS--NORWEGIAN HONESTY--THE POCKET
FOUND--A NOBLE HEART--PLEASANT
VOYAGEURS--PATRINS--STORKLEVSTAD--TAMBOURINE LOST--NORWEGIAN
HONESTY--ECCENTRIC VISITS--INTERROGATORY--THE CAPTAIN--THE
INTERVIEW--THE VILLAGE MAGNATE--MEGET GODT--ESMERALDA IN
CAMP--THE LAST VISIT--THE MOORLAND MAIDEN.
We had not gone far along the road, when we saw a blacksmith’s shop; a
man suddenly appeared from it, and came towards us on a velocipede.
“Why,” said Esmeralda, “there’s a _velocity_”!
“What broad wheels,” said Zachariah.
“It’s Arthur coming to town,” answered Noah.
The man was working it along might and main, with his hair flying; he
was a strong framed man, with an intelligent countenance. The velocipede
was probably manufactured by himself; although very roughly made, he
managed to go at a fair pace; when we came to the route turning from the
main road to “Harpe Brö” our companion with the naturally white hair,
who had occasionally ridden with us during the morning, and by whose
assistance we had increased our vocabulary of Norwegian words, wished us
good day.
At a short distance beyond the blacksmith’s shop, as our donkeys were in
advance, they strayed off the road into an open fir wood. Two young
ladies, and a man had followed us for a short distance; they seemed to
think we were going to halt in the wood, and as they stood watching us,
we thought they seemed disappointed, when the donkeys were driven back
to the road, and continued their journey. It was rather too early in the
day for rest. Sauntering quietly along, we at length came to an open
space having a wooden seat; this accommodation we particularly noticed
in Norway at some points on the wayside. Generally, in a pleasant
romantic spot, the ground is gravelled from the road, and a long wooden
seat is placed for the convenience, and rest of the weary wayfarer. In
selecting this spot, care is taken that it is near water, and close by,
we usually found a deliciously clear stream, to slake the travellers’
thirst. On this occasion we at once commenced unloading our baggage near
the wooden seat, and as we did not intend to remain very long, Noah left
the pockets girthed on two of the donkeys, who soon after wandered off
to graze.
When we looked round we were struck with the beauty of the scene. Not
far above us, on the opposite side the road, a log cottage stood lonely
on the side of a steep rising hill. A brawling stream passed underneath
the road near us; we saw it again, as it issued from a narrow brick
arch, and was soon lost in the bushes of the declivity, which formed the
bank of the Logan just below.
The picturesque summit of a mountain closed the narrow valley from the
world beyond.
Leaving our things by the seat, we went down to the stream at the arch
below the road, and crossed to a small patch of green sward on the other
side. It was quiet and sheltered, and our fire was soon lighted. Tea,
sardines, bread and cheese, formed our repast. A woman from the log
cottage came down and stood near looking at us. We gave some biscuits to
a small child in her arms; Zachariah was sent off to fish. It was about
10 o’clock when we arrived; the view was charming; Noah lounged on the
grass with the violin; as he was tuning it up, a young man came and
leaned over the rails of the road above, in silent contemplation. He is
expecting some music. You little think, my young friend, the treat you
are going to have, thought we. When Noah began to scrape, the effect was
marvellous; we turned, and the young man was gone. The sounds ceased,
for Noah himself fell asleep. Esmeralda had a very fair voice. It was
pleasant to hear her sing at times, as we walked along the winding
valley of the Gudbransdalen. Now we amused ourselves talking by the camp
fire, and as we reclined on our waterproofs, we wrote down at her
dictation, one of her ballads: “The Little Gipsy,” with the addition of
a few words, by a gipsy aunt, where Esmeralda’s memory had failed. We
now give the song in its entirety. It has been long a favourite with the
country people.
THE LITTLE GIPSY.
1.
My father’s the King of the Gipsies, that’s true;
My mother, she learned me some camping to do,
With a packel on my back, and they all wish me well,
I started up to London, some fortunes for to tell.
2.
As I was a-walking up fair London streets,
Two handsome young squires I chanced for to meet,
They view’d my brown cheeks, and they liked them so well,
They said, My little gipsy girl, can you my fortune tell?
3.
Oh yes! kind sir, give me hold of your hand;
For you have got honours, both riches and land.
Of all the pretty maidens, you must lay aside;
For it is the little gipsy girl that is to be your bride.
4.
He led me o’er hills, through valleys deep, I’m sure,
Where I’d servants for to wait on me, and open me the door;
A rich bed of dowle, to lay my head upon.
In less than nine months after, I could his fortune tell.
5.
Once I was a gipsy girl, but now a squire’s bride,
I’ve servants for to wait on me, and in my carriage ride.
The bells shall ring so merrily; sweet music they shall play,
And we’ll crown the glad tidings of that lucky, lucky day.
Two men with carts passed whilst we were resting, and they halted to
look at our donkeys.
It was nearly 2 o’clock, when myself and Noah went up to the wooden seat
to load the animals. As we were standing by our things, a carriage
passed, a gentleman driving with apparently his son, asked if we were
going to camp there, we told him we were going on; He asked how many
miles we travelled in a day, and we answered fourteen or fifteen. They
wished us a pleasant excursion, we wished him _bon voyage_, and, lifting
our hats, he drove on. Two donkeys were packed, and Noah brought up the
third. Where’s the pocket? said Noah, looking rather wild. “Pocket?”
said we, “isn’t it among the things?” No, sir, we never took it off; “it
must have slipt off somewhere.” In fact, we had not taken the pockets
off two of the donkeys, but one pocket had been pushed off by the Puru
Rawnee, against the road rails, whilst we were at lunch, and Noah had
placed it by the seat; what had become of the other we could not tell;
we both went some distance along the road where they had been browsing,
but could not find it. Esmeralda was much enraged. All her things with
Noah and Zachariah’s scanty stock, and their sheets, tent blankets, and
sleeping blankets, were also in the lost pocket. We went up to the
house, and managed to explain to two women the position we were in. Noah
said: “Sir, it must have been taken off, for there is no mark on the
road where it has come down.” Esmeralda fixed her suspicions on the
unfortunate cart drivers, who had been looking at the donkeys; we
repudiated the idea, and said they were driving the wrong way to have
done so. A vigorous search was made, with the help of the younger
peasant woman, amongst the bushes of the steep bank, between the road
and the river, where the two donkeys had been also wandering, but no
pocket could be found.
We decided to go on. To the young peasant girl, who seemed as anxious as
ourselves for its recovery, we gave a mark, and an address, so that the
pocket, if found, might be sent to Nystuen, to the “Herren mit drei
asen.”[44] Esmeralda rode one donkey, and in no very enviable frame of
mind, we hurried along at a rapid pace.
Noah exclaimed, “I could sit down and cry, sir. I don’t want no tea--I
can’t eat.”
“Well, I can,” said Esmeralda, boiling with indignation. “I know it is
taken; we shall never see it again. My small smoothing-iron, I would not
have parted with it for anything, I have had it so long; and my dress--”
and she half gave way to a flood of tears. “It will do them as has taken
it no good.”
Zachariah had just joined us from the river without a fish.
“Ah,” said he, in a weeping tone, “my pretty dicklo (gip. handkerchief)
is gone.”
I believe this handkerchief constituted nearly the whole strength of his
wardrobe.
“It is fortunate,” said we, “both pockets were not lost. We must manage
as well as we can; some shelter is left, and all our provisions. It
might have been worse. You shall have more blankets, Noah. We are quite
sure the pocket has not been taken; they are honest in Norway--far more
honest than most other countries we have travelled.”
So we pushed along till we saw a blacksmith, and two other men standing
at the road side. We explained our loss to them as well as we could.
They pointed to a fir wood above us as a convenient camping-ground, but
we wanted to proceed on our journey, and went on. At the next place we
came to, we purchased four loaves of bread for fifteen skillings. At one
large house we passed, near the road side, a large number of persons
were assembled, probably at some fête. There was a general rush to see
us. When we came to a large wooden water trough on the road side, some
girls who saw us, ran down the meadow above; they were great
loosely-dressed peasant girls, who laughed at us immoderately.
“What are the sapeaus (gip. snakes) crying about?” said Esmeralda, in no
very good temper.
At any other time she would have laughed with them.
“Ah! the Bongy mouees” (gip. ugly mouths), shouted Zachariah. “They were
tolerably well slap-dashed in Romany, as I have no doubt we were
good-humouredly in Norwegian.”
We had not gone many yards from the water trough, when the young woman
we had seen at our mid-day halt, came running round a corner of the
road. She seemed half fainting and exhausted, and, staggering to the
water-trough when she saw us, she dashed some water over her face, and
hurriedly drank some. We at once stopped the donkeys, and the girls
above the road ceased laughing. They seemed puzzled at the scene. We
went to the poor girl, who said, when she was able to speak, she had
found the pocket, which had slipped off the donkey close to the river’s
edge. It was lucky it had not rolled in. Being satisfied from the things
she found inside the pocket, that it belonged to us, she had followed us
with it, and at last left it at some place on the road, so that she
might more quickly overtake us. It was decided that Noah would take one
of the donkeys, and go back with the peasant girl for the pocket. We
were profuse in our thanks to her; she was a good, honest girl. We don’t
think our gipsies will ever again believe, that such a thing as
dishonesty, is possible in Norway. Pulling out a large handful of money
from our pocket, we pressed it into the girl’s hands. She wished to give
part back; it was too much, she did not like to take it all. We would
have no denial; as she was returning she took out her handkerchief in
which she had placed the money, and again offered us part; she did not
like to take so much. We made her put it back. Under such circumstances
what cared we what the sum was; we felt inclined to give her all we
possessed, she had been so honest. How much inconvenience we might have
experienced, but for the activity and kindness of this Norwegian peasant
girl. Shaking her heartily by the hand, she returned with Noah. We may
never meet again; we do not even know her name. Yet there is a world
beyond this. May her fate be with the blessed of a future and eternal
life. Continuing our route, we left behind us _Burre_, and the turn to
_Kvikne_. It may easily be imagined we went along in much better
spirits; all was sunshine. Noah would follow with the lost pocket, and
find us in our camping-ground. Patrins,[45] intelligible to our gipsy
party, were strewed as we went along the road. Pieces of grass,[46] to
all appearance scattered carelessly along the route, yet they had a
meaning, and a language which a gipsy easily reads. The points of the
grass indicated the way we took.
Although anxious to finish our day’s journey, we could find no
convenient camping-ground. We met the gentleman we had conversed with in
the morning. His son descended from the carriage to lead the horse by
the donkeys. Kindly salutations were exchanged. Noah said that when the
gentleman afterwards met him, he said, “Your master seems a pleasant
gentleman.”
“‘Well, sir, he’s always the same,’ I answered, and the son gave me a
cigar, whilst the gentleman sent his kind regards to you, sir.”
Our camp rules were relaxed, and Noah was of course allowed on this
occasion to smoke. We continued our way up a narrow gorge between high
mountains, but did not find any convenient camping-ground. In the
distance we saw log houses near the river Logan. These were
Storklevstad, Viig, and Qvam. As we descended the road we noticed a
rough narrow way on our right, with a telegraph post in the centre.
Zachariah went and reported that it led to a large common extending to
mountains beyond. Esmeralda and myself were at first inclined to
continue our route. As we were considering, a young man having the
appearance of a carpenter came by, and we asked him if we could camp
there. He said “Ya, ya,” and the lane being too narrow, and awkward for
the donkeys to go up loaded, the man helped us, very kindly, to unload
our heavy packs, and assisted us to carry them to a rock on the common;
we gave him two demi vers of brandy. The distance we had travelled had
been long, the weather seemed inclined for rain, and we were glad to get
in for night quarters. This corner of the common was bounded by hedges.
Under a thick high hedge on the common side we made a fire, and our tea
was soon ready, with ham fried in oil, and bread. Noah came in time for
tea, and, selecting a camping-ground on the common, put up the
tent-rods. The moorland, extending up a mountain, was covered with large
masses of rock and low bushes. Visitors soon came. An old man with a
wallet gave our donkeys some bread whilst we were at tea, and we gave
him some brandy. Women and children came, and were very civil. Our tents
were soon pitched, and arranged, and our things carefully stowed away.
The waterproof was so placed over our tents, that our visitors were
obliged to sit down, in order to see us through the opening.
Noah searched for his tambourine, but it could not be found, to his
consternation; we came to the conclusion that it must have been left on
the hedge bank near the water trough. Noah was loud in his lamentation,
when a peasant suddenly brought it to the tent. We had left it where we
supposed, and the peasant honestly restored the tambourine. We gave him
a good recompense with many thanks, though he did not seem to wish any
money reward. We had seldom met such kindly people. Gladly we commenced
playing our music, and having recovered all our things, we were much
pleased to find ourselves in a comfortable camping-ground for the
night. Scarcely had we commenced playing, than the crowd of people
increased round our tents. It was as much as we could do to keep them
from crushing the tents in. One little man in spectacles, and a curious
turned-up hat, with a knowing comical expression of countenance, came
crawling into our tent on all fours. First he looked up at Noah, then at
Zachariah, then at Esmeralda, and then at myself. We did not stop our
playing. He put up his finger as a signal for us to stop, but we could
not interrupt the tune. Then he expectorated freely on the intervening
space in our tents; fortunately, that part was only turf, but the
absence of saliva was at all times preferred. Then he stared curiously
through his spectacles, being still on his hands and knees. Some village
magnate, thought we. Then he suddenly summoned all his energy, and asked
loudly all kinds of questions in Norwegian, whilst we continued our
music. We thought he was slightly intoxicated, but it may have been an
eccentricity of manner. He seemed to know some words of English. Noah
said “Don’t know” to most questions. We could distinguish the word
Tater, and Noah said “shoemaker,” and nodding at Zachariah, “cobbler.”
Then he addressed some question to ourself, to which we answered “Nei,
nei.” “Jeg gaae Romsdalen,” still persevering, he pointed to Esmeralda,
who was rattling her tambourine, and he seemed specially anxious to know
what part she took in the economy of the tents. At last he was quiet for
a short time, and some one who did not like his attempted interruption
of the music, pulled him out by his legs. Alas! he soon returned,
crawling in again to the tent, expectorating as usual. Noah seemed his
grand point of attack. Addressing Noah, he pointed to us with a look of
triumphant discovery, and said, “Artistique,” but Noah did not seem to
comprehend.
We are afraid his pertinacity met with very little reward. A
considerable number of persons continued round our tents, and we
finished music towards 10 o’clock. Then our visitors wanted more music.
It was very complimentary to our musical talent, but we did not play
after 10 o’clock. One young man who spoke some English, came to us, and
asked to have more music. We explained that we had been up at 2 o’clock
that morning, and did not allow music after 10 o’clock, and wanted to go
to bed. Our visitors did not go for some time, but kept talking, and
making a noise, until nearly 11, when we gladly fell asleep.
Another Sunday. We welcomed the day as we ate our breakfast of tea,
potted meat, and bread. Then the word was given that the gorgios[47]
were a vellin. Many visitors soon collected, who were so curious, that
one of our party had to stand at the entrance to the tents during the
morning. A young man in long riding boots and horseman’s cloak, with a
whip in his hand, speaking English and German, informed us that an
English captain would shortly pass if we liked to see him. We said if he
were going to Lillehammer he might render us a service. An intelligent
young Norwegian peasant said he would let us know, when the captain came
along the road. We conversed some portion of the morning with our
visitors, and added to our knowledge of Norsk language.
At last the young Norwegian came and said the captain was come. We took
Noah and the young peasant with us, and started towards the village of
“Qvam.” After a sharp walk we reached a post station on the road side
near the river, and leaving Noah and the peasant in the large kitchen
with a bottle of “Baiersk Öl,” we went into an inner room to see the
captain.
The officer, whom we expected to find an Englishman, was Norwegian. The
French language was at once our medium of communication. We quickly
explained that we had lost two hats between the Honnefos and Moshuus,
and if _en passant_ he heard of them, we were anxious to have them
forwarded to Nystuen, and a handsome reward would be given. He looked at
our route on the map. Monsieur le Capitaine was just going to dinner; a
fine pink trout was served up. The captain asked us if we were going to
dine, but was informed that our dinner waited us at the camp. He said he
should be happy to inquire, and should meet us next morning, when he was
returning. The captain spoke French very well, and at first sight we
should have taken him for a French officer. There was a gentlemanly
frankness about him which pleased us. Although not tall, he was of
compact build, strong, and energetic, much indication of prompt and
rapid action--one prone to vigour of thought, and quickness of decision.
He possessed the bearing of a military man. We regretted we could not
see more of him. Giving him our card, and shaking hands, we parted.
Noah and the Norwegian were allowed another bottle of “Baiersk Öl” on
our return to the kitchen, and taking a sip to drink “gamle norge,” we
immediately left.
The peasant returned with us. At a short distance from our camp, the
village magnate came forth from a house, still wearing his curious
turned-up hat. The little man seemed rather pleased to see us. As he
advanced with a comical expression of countenance, he appeared to have
something of importance to communicate. We politely paused a moment. He
wanted to--to--“sell us a cheese!”
The peasant took a share of our dinner which was ready in camp. We were
obliged to take our dinner inside our tents, on account of the number of
visitors. They were never absent. It was a matter of conjecture whether
they ever ate anything themselves; they seemed to be at our camp from
morning till night. Our sensations were probably similar to those
formerly experienced by the lions in Wombwell’s well-known menagerie,
when viewed at feeding time.
Esmeralda had the soup ready, which consisted of white beans, pea flour,
rice, and Liebig’s essence of meat. Our peasant, as he sat on the grass
near us, with his bowl of soup, seemed thoroughly to enjoy it. We gave
him some English Cheddar cheese, from Hudson Bros., which seemed to
astonish him; and we heard him say to our interested visitors “meget
godt” (very good).
Whilst we had been absent, one young fellow, who spoke a little English,
came to our tents, and presuming too far upon Esmeralda’s good nature,
received a severe blow on the shoulder with a stick, which shut him up.
Probably to raise his spirits, he asked Zachariah to give him some of
his master’s brandy, which resulted in a sharp answer, and he left the
camp.
During dinner time a large number of visitors carefully watched our
smallest movements. We had no idea we could possibly meet with so much
solicitude as evinced, by the good people of Storklevestad, Viig, and
Qvam.
After dinner, leaving our gipsies in charge of the tents, we retired to
the mountain, to enjoy some quietude, and contemplation. How we watched
the beautiful scene before us! The Blaa Fjeld, and the picturesque river
Logan! The nature of this world, as God made it, is ever beautiful. Who
can tire of its contemplation?
When we returned at 6 o’clock, throngs of visitors--as a German would
say, “Immer! Immer!”--were grouped about the tents. Esmeralda was at the
fire preparing for tea, with several young fellows buzzing about her. We
seemed to come like a cloud upon their sunshine. Their fun was harmless,
but obstructive to our chances for the next meal. Esmeralda was sent
into the tents to get the tea things ready. Noah soon brought the tea,
and we did not go out again. Our visitors wandered about round and round
our tents, sometimes gazing at the donkeys, then returning, till about
half-past 10, when they all left.
How calm and quiet the Norwegian night, when the hum of voices is
hushed! How delightful, as we looked forth from our tents! Then we
distinguished three figures gliding over the moorland towards us. They
approached; it was about 11 o’clock. There was the bright-eyed,
good-looking Pige, whom we had noticed at our tents during the day,
without shoes or stockings. Now she had some stockings on, probably
borrowed from some friend, to give her a more respectable appearance.
She was followed by a little boy and girl; and as she hovered near our
tents, she pointed to Noah, and then towards her cottage in the
distance. She made love by signs. In vain we wished her “good night.”
Poor girl! She still lingered, sometimes pointing to herself, and then
towards the village.
We were just going out to persuade her to go home, when Esmeralda asked,
why we should trouble ourselves about her.
“Why should we?” We at once gave up the diplomatic mission. Zachariah
was sent outside the tents instead, and made signals for her to go.
Smiling, she said, in a clear, pleasant voice, “Farvel, adieu!” and,
kissing her hand, left.
Oh, no! she was quickly back again, followed by her Lilliputian retinue,
who floundered after her among the rocks. There she lingered like the
siren of the Rhine. Noah was fortunately spell-bound in his tent. Who
knows, if he had gone, he may at this moment have been, a denizen of
Storklevestad! She again seemed going from our tents.
Thank goodness! we are now quiet. Vain delusion! “Farvel, adieu!” She
was again standing on a rock near our tents. How she lingered! Perhaps
Noah might change his mind. “Farvel, adieu!” we said. “Farvel, adieu!”
the gipsies shouted. She loved--she lingered. Noah came not. At last she
went; but we could see her, as she went across the moorland, at times
turn, and stand irresolute; till the very last, “Farvel, adieu!” of the
Norwegian peasant girl died upon the wind, and we all went to sleep.