As Cadurcis approached, he observed some low tents, and in a few
minutes he was in the centre of an encampment of gipsies. He was
for a moment somewhat dismayed; for he had been brought up with
the usual terror of these wild people; nevertheless, he was not
unequal to the occasion. He was surrounded in an instant, but
only with women and children; for gipsy men never immediately
appear. They smiled with their bright eyes, and the flames of
the watch fire threw a lurid glow over their dark and flashing
countenances; they held out their practised hands; they uttered
unintelligible, but not unfriendly sounds.
DISRAELI’S _Venetia_.
A DIFFICULT CROSSING--AGAIN EN ROUTE--SKÖGADAL SŒTER--SŒTER
ACCOMMODATION--SPLENDID SCENERY--THE SKÖGADALS ELV--THE
MYSTERIOUS BONE--MOUNTAIN EXPLORATION--THE PACK HORSES--A
SLIPPERY FLOOR--MUSIC IN THE SŒTER--FLŒSKEDAL STÖL--THE MÖRK
FOS--MAGNIFICENT FALL--THE CLIFF’S EDGE--THE IRIS--ALL PAY AND
NO COMFORT--A REINDEER SHOT--THE DESERTED FARM--A MOUNTAIN
SHADOW.
The three donkeys looked as if they much preferred remaining where they
were. Esmeralda said we should never get over.
Noah said “No donkeys can go over such places as these, sir.”
“What can we do in such ways?”
Even Mephistopheles had not quite shaken off the gloom of our last camp,
and looked “mumply.” We did not say much.
“There’s the other side. They must go.”
[Illustration: LUSEHAUG BRO, UTLADAL.--RESTIVE DONKEYS.]
And without losing more time we all set to work and carried the baggage
over. Then came the Tarno Rye’s turn; Zachariah pulled at its head,
whilst ourself and Noah pushed behind, and forced it by main strength up
the stones to the wicket. It was almost over the cliff once, but we both
laid hold of a hind leg each, whilst Mephistopheles tugged at the
donkey’s head. As the frail bridge shook it is lucky we did not all
vanish into the chasm below. With main force the Tarno Rye was lifted on
to the bridge, and finding itself there quietly allowed itself to be led
by Zachariah and Ole to the other side.
It was rather expected we should succeed in the same way with the other
two, but they made such a resolute fight that there was considerable
risk of losing one of the donkeys through the handrail at the end of the
bridge.
“Bring the tether rope, Noah.”
We then proposed to noose them by the head, and so drag them over. Noah
further suggested that we might double the rope and pass it round the
donkeys hind quarters. It was a good idea immediately adopted. The Puru
Rawnee was the first. Esmeralda and Zachariah at the ends of the doubled
rope across the bridge. Ourself on the bridge steadying its head. Noah
and Ole pushing behind.
Sharp was the contest, first at the stones leading to the bridge, then
at the light rails at the end of the bridge which shook under our weight
as the donkey resisted. Now and again Esmeralda pulled. Mephistopheles
pulled, and the Puru Rawnee, at length, sorely against her will, was
dragged over the bridge.[99] The Puru Rye was also soon pulled over by
the same method, amid much laughter from our gipsies. In a few minutes
the donkeys were again loaded.
“What is the name of the bridge?” asked we.
“Lusehaug Bro,” said Ole as we pushed along the Utladals Elv, and whilst
we gradually ascended obliquely higher above the Utladals Elv, so the
Utladals Elv seemed to sink deeper, and deeper, into the hidden recesses
of a bottomless ravine. In a short time we entirely lost sight of its
rapid waters.[100]
This river is ultimately joined by the waters from the Mörkfos. After
winding along the hill side we reached a sort of upper plateau at the
foot of the Skögadal.
Near the Skögadals Elv are two sœters some short distance apart, on the
banks of the Elv, whose swift course is soon lost down the precipitous
steeps which abruptly fall from the plateau to the dark narrow ravine
below. Halting at a short distance from the Skögadal sœters, a fire was
lighted, and we had fried bacon and potatoes and tea for dinner. Until
we had another tent pole it was impossible to pitch our tent. Shortly
after dinner it poured with rain, but our baggage was all safely covered
with our siphonia waterproof. Ole showed his ready skill by cutting down
a small birch tree in the wood just above us, which he shaped out with
his hunting knife to the proper size and length, and then cut holes
sufficiently large for our tent raniers. A very good substitute Ole
made. We have it now, after all the rough work of our remaining
campaign. There was a slight cessation of rain, during which the tents
were pitched. We were delighted with our camping ground. All were
pleased with it. It was certainly a wild, secluded, and beautiful spot.
There was the pleasing reflection that we were at home in our pleasant
camp. No care, no trouble, no sleeping in sœter beds in a suffocating
close atmosphere, or lying on mud floors, slimy with spilt milk and damp
moisture. No anticipation of fleas, with the certainty of such
anticipation being realized to the fullest extent of human endurance.
Then there are floating visions as to the number and variety of people
who have previously slept in these beds. Some idea may be formed of
sœter life by the following extract of recent personal experience,
related by Mr. Murray Browne:--“I prepared for the night by pulling on
my second shirt and second pair of trousers over that which I was
wearing at the time. I then lay down on the floor with a rug--a sort of
horse-cloth--under me, and a rope for my pillow. My brother and Saunders
slept on a sort of bench, with their legs stretched under a kind of
shelf which served as the only table. The women and children occupied
the only bed, and Hans and his son slept, like myself, on the floor.
Before long it got very cold.”[101]
On the right of the Utladals Elv a foaming torrent falls from an upper
plateau of the Horungerne. On our left we could see the Skögadals Elv,
and on the opposite side the Aurdals Axelen, forming the two sides of
the valley out of which issues the Skögadals Elv, and falls down rocky
steeps into the deep gorge of the Utladal. A beautiful green,
moss-covered, rocky, low hill, formed our foreground on the opposite
side of the Skögadals Elv. As you look down the deep gorge beyond, two
hills rise in picturesque outline, one with a very steep, dark summit.
The white foam of a waterfall contrasts with the dark rocks of the
mountain down which it falls. In the far distance a small pointed hill
stands alone. It is far down the gorge, as far as the eye can reach. For
our tea we had gröd and milk. Ole retired to the sœter at eight o’clock,
and as it rained heavily we all went to bed. When we retired to rest on
the mossy turf; we could not help expressing pity for the unfortunate
people stoved up in the sœters. Ole said it would probably rain next
day, but if fine it was arranged that he should call us up at three
o’clock the next morning.
It rained heavily when we awoke about three o’clock so that we continued
our repose. Ole called us at a much later hour. We gave him out of our
tent, matches, and material for making the fire, and soon joined him.
The gipsies also were up and stirring. Esmeralda soon managed the
breakfast service from her kettle bag, which was quite equal to
Pandora’s box for the extraordinary quantity and variety of things it
contained. The frokost consisted of fladbröd, butter and tea. The day
was dull and cloudy. We could hear with greater distinctness the roar of
the rising waters of the Skögadals Elv. This was pleasant, except that
we had the prospect of having one or two of our donkeys drowned in
crossing the rapid waters.
The morning gradually cleared, and we diligently wrote up our notes till
one o’clock. Esmeralda then announced our mid-day meal. The hobbenengree
had boiled some of Ole’s bacon with the unfortunate piece of dried meat
from Holaker, which had persistently haunted our soup kettle for so many
miles. There was no mistaking it as Noah pronged it out with a fork, and
suddenly let it fall back into the soup, as if he had seen the ghost of
his Uncle Elijah.
Although not in our arrangement Ole had always had his meals from our
commissariat. Ole Rodsheim was worthy of our hospitality, and we had
enough to spare. On this occasion Ole said he had shared all our meals,
and we might as well consume the bacon, and three loaves of bread he had
brought with him. As to our tea Ole had acquired such a taste for it,
that we doubt whether he will ever again be able to do without it. Our
meal consisted of soup, boiled bacon, the mysterious piece of dried
meat, potatoes and fladbröd.
When we looked over the maps after dinner with Ole, we could not help
being astonished at the _étendue_ and wonderful extent of wild mountain
terrain scarcely explored by the Alpine Club. What a network of deep
gorges, glens, valleys, lakes, and glaciers, out of which rise hundreds
of steep and rugged peaks; very many have never been ascended and are
scarcely known. Three lakes were pointed out by Ole as having been
purchased by English gentlemen; the Rus Vand, the Heimdals Vand, and the
Sikkildals Vand. Some of the lakes are of considerable extent, as the
Bygdin Vand, which Ole said was about seventeen and a half miles long.
The Gjendin Vand and the Tyen Vand were also large lakes easily reached
from near our tent. After a careful inspection of our maps, we decided
to take Ole early the next morning and visit the Mörk Fos, leaving the
gipsies in care of the camp, and returning in the evening. A
reconnaissance was made up the Skögadals valley above the sœters to find
a crossing for our donkeys; the usual ford was too deep. Noah and
Zachariah said no donkey could stand with water above his knees. The
place, at last selected, was certainly better for our purpose, but we
were not very sanguine. Ole said a carrier was expected at the sœter
that evening, and some help might be obtained.
It was a beautiful evening after the rain. The view up the Skögadal
(wooded valley) with Melkadalstinderne (the peaks of the Milk valley) in
the distance, and across the river the Aurdals Axelen, which Ole said
meant the shoulder of the stony valley, completed a scene long to be
remembered; the sides of the Skögadal valley being covered in places
with birch wood, has not the too sterile and desolate appearance of some
valleys through which we had passed. About five o’clock, when we were
having our gröd and milk for tea, the expected carrier and his boy were
seen coming up the mountain track below our tents. The horses shied at
first at our camp, but Noah went down and led one, and they passed
without difficulty. Each horse can carry about eight vaage, rather more
than 3 cwt., each Norwegian vaage being 38 lbs. One of the carrier’s
horses was a powerful animal, larger than the Norwegian pony. Two strong
wooden barrels, with lids, are slung on each side a wooden frame or
saddle furnished with iron rings and a leather crupper. The barrels are
two feet two inches long, by eleven and three-quarter inches wide, and
one foot eight inches deep. The weight is well balanced, and the
fastenings very strong and well adapted to stand the rough stony tracks
of the Norwegian fjelds. An arrangement was quickly made for the carrier
to take Ole and ourself across the Skögadals Elv the next morning, and
bring us back in the evening, for half a mark each. It rained heavily
after tea. About nine o’clock, when it was over, we took Noah and
Zachariah to the upper sœter to give the people some music. Ole was
there, the carrier, and his son, and the sœter women. As we came in we
made our début in the Skögadal world of music by slipping on the uneven
mud floor of the first room, and falling down, nearly upsetting the
sœter woman’s bucket of milk, who was milking, and if we had not been
very quick completely smashing our guitar. Our satisfaction at having
rescued our guitar which had been carried without injury by Esmeralda so
many miles, quite healed any bruises we sustained. No bones broken; we
were soon up, and in the second room. The violin, guitar, and
tambourine, soon waked up the stillness of the night. We must say that
no artistes of the greatest celebrity could have had a more pleased and
admiring audience. As we retired we felt quite giddy from the extreme
closeness of the atmosphere of the sœter. Noah had also carried off two
fleas; so much the better for Ole. The night was damp and windy as we
sought our camp and went to bed.
Early awake, we were completing our toilette to the music of snoring
gipsies when Ole came. Half-past five, gröd and milk formed our
breakfast, Ole adding to his own some myse ost, to qualify, as he said,
the milk. The carrier came with one of his horses; we both mounted and
forded the Skögadals Elv, and turning the horse back he returned across
riderless to his master. Commencing our expedition at seven o’clock, we
made our way for some distance through a large birch wood, and at length
descended into the valley called Aurdal.[102] This part of the narrow
valley which we crossed is completely full of enormous stones piled one
upon another in wild chaos. Ole called the valley Urdal or Aurdal. All
was wild sterility, and the separate detached blocks of loose stone were
often so enormous, that it was slowly, and with difficulty we made our
way to the opposite side. A stream flowed far beneath the loose stones
tossed and piled above its course in extraordinary masses. Its waters
were at times obscured and hidden by the blocks of stone of all shapes
and sizes, piled in heterogeneous confusion. When we left this stony
valley we continued our route along the sloping sides of the mountain
beyond, to the left of the deep gorge of the Utladals Elv. At about
eleven o’clock in the forenoon we reached the “Fleskedal Sœter.” The
stöl is pleasantly situated on a rise of open mountain ground near a
clear stream of water. Leaving our things with the sœter woman, we
descended through a steep forest of birch and firs, and at last crossing
a new bridge over a wild torrent soon afterwards reached another stöl or
sœter which was closed. This was the Vettismark forest and sœter. Ole
said that this forest was renowned for its large trees. Round the sœter
the trees were partly cleared; some were left scattered here and there.
The whole scene reminded us of a sheep station in an Australian forest.
From this picturesque plateau we had splendid views of some of the
summits of the Horungerne mountains. The scene was beautiful in the
sunshine of mid-day; it made us wish to linger there for ever. What a
spot for a tent. Crossing the narrow stream near the sœter, and passing
through a lovely forest view, we were soon near the edge of the hanging
cliff, over which the narrow river we had crossed, falls in one straight
and almost perpendicular column of water, not less than 800 feet--we
thought it more. In a note to Captain Campbell’s interesting article on
the Mörkfos, published in the “Alpine Journal” of August 1870, it seems
that the height of the fall is about 1000 feet.[103]
We refer our readers to this article for an excellent description of
this waterfall, and especially to the engraving there given of the fall,
which is from an original sketch by Captain Campbell.
The sun shone high; the sky was Italian blue. Ole produced his rope;
carefully securing it round our body, he steadied himself at a small
tree and held the other end of the rope. Then we advanced to the edge of
the hanging cliff. The wild heath formed an arched and matted roof above
the far distant rocks in the abyss below. As we cautiously leant over,
Nature broke upon us in all the light of her splendid magnificence. Who
can doubt the power of a great Creator who views such scenes? We could
have stayed there never-tiring to eternity. As we seemed to catch as it
were the broken ground with our legs, almost suspended in mid air, we
could not divest ourselves of the thought that some of the finest
scenes in Nature are often overlooked. Had the shelving cliff given way
we were secured by a rope, but we must say our position would have been
unpleasant. The cliffs on either side stand abruptly out and are
overhanging, so that it is difficult to get a good view of the fall from
above, except at the point we were looking over. The rocks below, which
receive the waters of the fall, for some distance upwards are almost
black.
When we retired from the cliff’s edge, we roped Ole and he had a similar
view. Notwithstanding all that had been said by Captain Campbell, the
Mörkfos far surpassed our expectations in height, volume of water, and
picturesque beauty. There is no drawback. All accessories are perfect.
Mountain outline, rock, tree, forest--all that surround the fall, rival
it in their several perfections of harmonious beauty. Reluctantly we
must say, that even the Rjukan fos and its romantic association of the
“Lovers” or “Marie stein” is scarcely equal to the Mörkfos.[104] Other
lovers of nature who visit this wild scene may probably pass a decisive
opinion either to confirm or reverse ours. Both falls have their
separate beauty.
The valley of the Aardal below, is all the most enthusiastic lover of
nature could desire.[105] Opposite to us were the magnificent steeps of
the Maradalstinder. The waterfall roaring down its sides, was only
dwarfed, by its more splendid rival the Mörkfos. The fall opposite is
the Maradals elv fos. As we watched it, a beautiful iris of red, yellow,
and blue, hovered above the foaming waters, the only one, we had ever
seen.
Before we left, we contemplated the deep valley of the Aardal, and its
wooded sides. Trees covered the summit of the cliffs, on either side the
Mörkfos. One mountain ash, had caught its roots in a cleft, and overhung
in mid-air. Scotch firs crowned the rocks above.
We left at a quarter to one. Never shall we forget a small patch of
golden moss, forming a miniature island in a small forest tarn; its
resplendent colour in the glowing sun. Near the sœter in the Vettismark
forest, a few large trees scattered near, were without bark, and dead.
The Vettismark Sœter, and the Fleskedal Sœter, Ole said, belonged to the
same owner. The ascent to the Fleskedal Sœter was very steep, but we
reached it at five minutes past two o’clock.
Our middags mad, on the banks of the stream, near the Fleskedal Sœter,
consisted of cold bacon, fladbröd, a box of sardines, and kage bröd, or
ovens bröd (bread baked in an oven), which we had brought with us. Ole
boiled our water at the sœter, and we had two pannikins of tea. The
Fleskedal Sœter is a new sœter. One woman, and some children, were
staying there. The sœter is built of wood, and of the usual size. We
paid the woman four skillings, for allowing Ole to boil our water at the
sœter.
It appears that Messrs. Boyson and Harrison stayed at the Fleskedal
Sœter one night, with three other gentlemen going to Lyster. We were
told that for one bed, for two of the party, the other three sleeping as
they could, and for some fladbröd, butter, and milk, they were charged
two specie dollars, or nine shillings English money, when they left. An
English gentleman, accompanied by a reindeer hunter, came to the
Fleskedal Sœter the day before we arrived, and stayed all night. Early
in the morning he had shot a reindeer in the mountains.
The English sportsman returned to the sœter for a pony, but could not
get one, and went to obtain one somewhere else. He said he should
reserve the reindeer’s skin for himself, and send the carcass to a
friend at Bergen. Ole said he would probably have to pay two or three
dollars, and if he had sent it down to Skögadals Sœter, the carrier
would have met the steamer for Bergen, and it would have gone at a much
cheaper rate.
Leaving Fleskedal Sœter at about four o’clock, we had a delightful walk
along the mountain slopes. At one point, in the depths of the valley
below, on the opposite bank of the Utladal Elv, we could see the
Bondegaard of Vormelid. A deep dark shadow seemed to hang about it in
the far distance below. What a solitary abode. Few footsteps would ever
pass its threshold. Imagine the winter solitude of this homestead. The
silence broken by the wolf’s howl. Ole said the bears had destroyed the
cattle of the former owner. He was nearly ruined. The bridge across the
torrent was broken down, and the house deserted. Ole signaled as we
approached the Skögadals Elv. The gipsies were soon on the alert to give
us welcome. The carrier brought two horses, and we crossed the river.
Our tents were reached at seven o’clock.
The gipsies appeared to have slept most of the day. They had not even
quarrelled. We began to think they must be ill, until we found they had
diligently inspected nearly every single article we possessed, which
were afterwards carefully arranged upside down. We decided to move very
early the next day, and Ole had the gröd at once prepared for breakfast
the next morning.
Before retiring to rest, we strolled on the turf near our tents, and
watched the secluded valley by moonlight. Vast ranges of snowy mountains
were before us silvered by the moon. As we looked down the valley, we
could not help observing, a large shadowed outline, representing the
figure of a woman, singularly distinct, and formed by the conformation
of a hill above the ravine. It was Sunday, and no music was given at the
sœters.