Helpe me wonder, her’s a booke
Where I would for ever looke.
Never did a gipsie trace
Smoother lines in hands or face;
Venus here doth Saturne move,
That you should be the Queene of Love.
_Masque of Gipsies._ BEN JONSON.[113]
THE GIPSY SIGNAL--OUR AUSTRALIAN MEAT--THE FAIR POETESS--OUR
FRIEND FROM EISBOD ILL--THE RYE’S UNWELL--THE LEHNSMŒND OF
BANG--THE FERRYMAN AND SON--WE CROSS THE BEINA--TATERSPROG--A
KIND FAMILY--STORSVEEN STATION--SECLUDED VALLEY--A TOURIST LELS
US--ESMERALDA’S ADVENTURE--THE PEASANT WOMEN’S SONG--SORUM
STATION--TENTS PITCHED BY A LAGOON--NŒS--NO HORSEBOAT--IMPROMPTU
HORSEBOAT--HOW WE GOT ACROSS--A RIVER SCENE.
In a short time, Esmeralda and ourself slowly descended the steep
winding road towards Krœmmermoen, as we heard the gipsy’s whistle in the
distance. Evening was fast closing. The road wound zigzag round the head
of a deep gorge. Soon afterwards, to our left above the road, we saw
Noah, with a fire blazing in the rocks.
It was a retired nook of the road, which had been almost made on
purpose. The last of our Cheddar cheese was brought out for our evening
meal. The cheese had kept good through all our wanderings. We had also
tea, broiled ham, and what remained of our fladbröd. A few people
passing down the road, came up to our tents. Night closed in, and the
wanderers, after their long day’s journey, were soon soundly asleep.
Heavy rain fell in the night. We were up in good time next morning. For
frokost, we had biscuits, and butter and tea. The morning was showery;
but many visitors came to see us. Then the Lehnsmœnd, a brother, we
think, of the Prœst of Bang, came to our tents. The herre had a young
lady, we believe a niece, with him. He was a pleasant, gentlemanly man,
who spoke English very well. After we had shown him our tents, he said,
if we stayed the next day, he should be happy to introduce us to his
brother. As he left our camp, we presented him with our gipsy song, as a
souvenir.
A tin of preserved Australian meat was opened. Really this meat is
excellent. What could be better? Even our gipsies were perfectly
satisfied, and thoroughly enjoyed it. With some boiled potatoes, we made
an excellent middags-mad.
At five o’clock we sent Noah and Zachariah down to Krœmmermoen to buy
bread. They met with our friend from Eisbod, on the Bygdin Lake. He had
been taken ill, and could not proceed on his journey.
Whilst they were away, some young ladies came to our camp, and sat on
the rocks near. At last one bowed to Esmeralda, who spoke to her, and
asked her to take a seat in our tent; but she hesitated. We went to
them. They seemed much interested in our tent life. The young lady, who
spoke English, said she was merely a visitor at Bang. She expatiated on
the beauties of the valley, and then she asked us, if we would kindly
give her one of our songs. She said she had written some verses herself,
and begged our acceptance of them. The young Norwegian lady had very
pleasing manners--something winning and charming. Perhaps she had not
the highest type of beauty; still there was a power to fascinate, such
as we had not often met with, even in those of a more perfect mould--a
softness, a gentleness of manner, always accompanied with goodness of
disposition, and kindness of heart. Poetry! Yes; it vibrated in every
word she spoke. Could we refuse her anything? Two copies of our songs
were brought forth from the recesses of our tin box. We presented one,
to our fair visitor, and the other, to one of her friends. There was a
third; but unfortunately we had forgotten there were three
lady-visitors. The verses presented to us we shall prize. Reader, we
must give them place in this account of our wanderings. Our book would
be incomplete without them.
The following are the Norwegian verses. The translation we have had
made, is also given with them. Our readers will not now be surprised
that we admired the beautiful scenery of Lille Bang.
1.
Hvor deiligt er det lille Bang
Naturen mig indbyder,
Til ret at stemme i en Sang
Som udaf Hjertet lyder.
2.
Hvad er det dog som mangler her?
Alt i en skjön Forening,
Naturens Krœfter i sig bier
Derom er kun een Mening.
3.
Sig Fjeldet slynger i en Krands
Om Dalens Yndigheder;
Hvor Elven i en lang Runddands,
Let gjennem denne swœver.
4.
Ved Siden af den stille Elv,
Sig frem med Bulder trœnger,
Det rige store Fossevœld,
Og Klippens Masser spranger.
5.
Ei heller Skovens Dunkelhed,
Man blandt det Andet savner,
Thi Fjeldet prydet er dermed,
Og Dalens Skyöd den favner.
6.
Hvad staaer der da tilbage som,
Det lille Bang ei eier?
Hvis du det kan saa Kom o Kom
Naturen alt opveier.
* * * * *
Sweet lille Bang, delightful spot;
Nature herself, impelling,
Bids me pour forth such tuneful song,
That now my heart’s o’erwelling.
What now, then, may be wanting?
All Nature’s powers combine,
With order and with harmony,
To perfect the design.
The Fjeld-slopes’ flowery garlands
Enwreath the little dale;
And, winding in and outwards,
The rippling streams prevail.
Yet, ’twixt the banks so stilly,
The murmuring waters flow,
Till down a rapid torrent,
Restless, on they go.
Nor wanting from the gloam-land,
’Mid the grove’s secluded alley,
Is the eider duck to give some life
To hill-side and to valley.
What charm is there yet wanting,
Which lille Bang has not?
Her voice invites all Nature
To show a fairer spot.
Noah and Zachariah returned with the kagebröd, dark, heavy bread, with
carraway seeds in it.[114] Our friend from Eisbod had sent to say, he
would come up to our camp, if well enough. They had also made
acquaintance, with an old Norwegian, who resided near the village. He
showed them his violin, for which he wanted four dollars.
After we had finished our tea, bread, and butter, more visitors arrived.
One peasant was an important representative of royalty. He wore a large
waistcoat; on every button he had a photograph of some potentate. The
King and Queen of Sweden, the Prince and Princess of Wales, and the King
of Sardinia, were among the number. His waistcoat, in fact, included
nearly all the crowned heads of Europe. After tea, we sat in the rocks
above our camp. The evening was very damp, and showery. When we
returned, our visitors were still sitting by our tents. Notwithstanding
heavy rain, they continued until about nine o’clock.
It was three o’clock in the morning when we were stirring. The Tarno
Rye’s back was much chafed. The donkeys had eaten the best part of one
of our pocket handkerchiefs, the day before. For frokost we had tea,
black-bread, and cheese.
The morning was cloudy, as we left our camp at half-past six o’clock. We
did not feel so well as usual. Our health had been excellent throughout.
As we passed a cottage, the gipsies pointed out the old man’s house,
with its flag, and large stone, with a photograph let into it, of his
majesty Carl John.[115]
When we came to the Krœmmermoen station soon afterwards, Noah and
Zachariah were sent to buy bread, and wire at the shop. The station is
apparently exceedingly comfortable. Esmeralda went on with the baggage.
Going up stairs, we were shown into our friend’s bed-room. Our friend
from Eisbod was in bed looking very pale and unwell. Something had
disagreed with him, and he had not been well since he left Skogstad.
Apparently he had a severe attack of diarrhœa. Our bread cost us one
mark, potatoes four skillings, and wire ten skillings.
As we left our friend, he said he should try and continue his journey
the same morning. It seemed as if we were ever destined to pass, and
repass, and meet continually.
When we overtook our baggage shortly after, near the village church of
Bang, we found our lady visitors of the previous day, and the Lehnsmœnd,
and their friends, assembled, to give us their parting good wishes. Much
we regretted, that our time did not permit us to stay another day. Bang
is delightfully situated. However powerful the description, there is
much that the poet’s pen, will fail to convey.
The Lehnsmœnd, our agreeable visitor of the previous day, the young
gentleman we had seen at Lomen on the Slidre Fjord, the ladies,
especially our fair visitor, who had given us the verses, were as
charming as before. All united to say to us “_Bon voyage_,” as we left
the lovely dale of Lille Bang.[116]
After we had left Bang, the road reached the river’s bank. Fortunately
there was a horse-boat, with a landing and all complete. The ferry-house
was on the other side; the river Beina was before us. The old man at the
ferry wore breeches and stockings, and very large shoes. He was heavy,
stooping, and slow, and was followed by his son, who was his duplicate,
in large baggy trousers, and immense shoes, and a shade slower still.
They were a perfect study. A draper’s assistant would have measured up
their time, at five minutes the yard. Both had a sparkle of comicality
in their eyes, as they helped our gipsies to carry our baggage from the
donkeys into the boat. Strange to say, the donkeys walked on to the
horse-boat, without a moment’s hesitation. The old man rowed with two
very large oars, whilst his son slowly used a shaft.
The boat reached the opposite bank, and the donkeys were safely landed.
Two females, we took for his wife and daughter, came to a fence to look
at our donkeys. The old man began to assist in taking our baggage on
shore. Presently Mephistopheles rushed on deck. The old man was slowly
dragging at a heavy pocket, which generally took the strength of Noah,
and ourself, to lift on to the Puru Rawnee. Suddenly Mephistopheles,
spinning the old man almost round, like a tee-to-tum, swung it over his
shoulder like a feather, and in two seconds deposited it on shore. We
shall never forget the old man’s look of amazement, and his son’s sudden
pause to take another look at Mephistopheles. Then Mephistopheles in his
hurry tumbled headlong over some bags, to the amusement of the two
ferrymen.
It was found that a rope had been left on the other side the river.
Mephistopheles jumped into a light pram, and by his rapidity, almost
tumbled the man’s son into the bottom of the boat. Away went
Mephistopheles, with two oars, splashing across the river. Now they are
coming back, the old man’s son sprawling in the stern, as he holds on,
with astonished look; whilst Mephistopheles, with fearful irregularity,
is sending the waters of the Beina in all directions.
Our gipsies are screaming with laughter. “Ha, ha! Uncle Sam coming from
Bosbury, a seaport town in England! Dik the Balo-Shero. Look at Elijah!
Why, he’s got a square nose.”
We were exceedingly thankful that our gipsies’ tatersprog and English
slang was never understood. “Coming from Bosbury,” had reference to a
question, a countryman once asked one of the tribe, “Where’s Bosbury?”
“Bosbury? why, it’s a seaport town in the middle of England, with lots
of ships!” “Well,” said the rustic, “I never heerd on it afore.”
Whilst the ferryman’s son was enjoying his rapid transit, his father,
mother, and sister, as we supposed them to be, were enjoying our brandy.
Of course, the son, when he did land, drank “gamle norge” to his happy
escape. It was not the first aquavit he had taken. Energy is catching;
they began to look quite sharp. Our transit cost twelve skillings.
Mephistopheles played them a tune on his Violin. The ferryman and family
seemed highly delighted. We left with their good wishes, to continue our
journey.
Still we became more and more unwell. Slowly we went on, until we came
to a large gaard, of superior size, and comfort.
The road passed through a large open meadow, shut in by gates, on the
banks of the river. Near the river the grass had been newly mown. The
farmer, and some of his family, came to see the donkeys, which the
gipsies halted for their inspection. The farmer’s wife asked if they
stood on their hind legs. The people seemed so kindly; the meadow so
charmingly situate, on the banks of the broad river, that we decided to
stay. We made the farmer, and his wife, understand that we wanted a mark
of fladbröd, and six skillings’ worth of milk. Esmeralda went to the
gaard for it. They nearly filled one large can full of milk. Noah in the
meantime lighted a fire, and made the gröd. The donkeys were driven
across a dry portion of the shingly bed of the river, to a green island
for rest and shade.
The farmer and his wife sat down near us. It was astonishing the kindly
interest they took. We fancy we looked ill and worn. At first we said
nothing to our gipsies. It may probably pass away, thought we. “Du
courage.” Esmeralda soon discovered that something was the matter with
the Rye, and we told her. Still we sat on the beautiful new mown turf,
gazing on the rapid broad flowing river, the farmer, and his wife and
family near. Then the donkeys were driven back for us to go. Some of the
family brought green corn, and green peas, for the donkeys to eat. Then
we gave the farmer’s wife a song, for, somehow, we seemed to have
established a friendship with them. The farmer’s wife seemed anxious to
know our name; so we wrote it on the back of the song, with the date.
Then she asked, whose wife Esmeralda was, and if we worked in metals.
They did not quite seem to understand, when we said we travelled for
pleasure. So we parted from the friendly farmer, and his wife, and
family, at about twelve o’clock, and continued our journey.
Passing the Höler Elv, we came towards Storsveen. Once a man came out of
a wood, hastily put up his scythe, and followed us. He wanted to see our
donkeys. The grain is stacked up in the fields, sheaf upon sheaf, round
poles, six feet high. Zachariah tried the river, but could not catch any
fish. It did not appear there were many.
Near Storsveen, we saw a pig with a broken nose. Soon after we had
passed the turn down to the Storsveen Station, we noticed behind us a
traveller. It was our friend from Eisbod, walking after us with his
knapsack. We had met again. Our friend said he was much better, and was
going to Storsveen; but seeing us before him, he had overtaken us. After
a pleasant converse, he returned to Storsveen Station to get a
conveyance, and said he should overtake us again.
Struggle as we would, we got worse. Our gipsies noticed it. They became
more silent. We told Noah to camp, at the first convenient spot. About
two o’clock we came to a beautiful part of the valley. All that we could
desire. The road passed through an amphitheatre of green turf, closed in
by rising rocks, covered with dense, and thickly hanging woods. In front
we had the broad river. A dry, level, shingly beach, stretched out, to
nearly the middle of the stream. On the opposite bank, to our right,
there was a magnificent cliff, above the river, clothed with wood. The
scene was well suited for a rest. Our gipsies quickly drove the donkeys
to a rising hillock, beneath the wood, a short distance from the road,
and pitched our tents. Our friend from Eisbod, came soon after in a
conveyance. Paying a short visit to our camp, he had one of our cigars,
a pleasant converse, and had almost recovered.
As he was leaving in his conveyance, two smart young tourists came along
the road; they were on foot. Their whole equipment was neatness, even to
the umbrella. As, very far from well, we sat near our tent, we could see
them in conference, with our friend from Eisbod. Immediately afterwards,
one produced a sketch-book, and apparently sketched the donkeys. Then he
appeared to be taking a sketch of our camp, and Esmeralda, and ourself.
Noah got up, and in an earnest tone said, “They are ‘lelling’ you, sir,”
and vanished off to the river, where Zachariah was disporting himself on
the shingly beach, with nothing on but his shirt.[117] They at last
appeared to have completed the sketch of our donkeys, and camp, for
suddenly the book was shut. They took off their hats; we, of course
returned the salute, and they continued their excursion. If we had not
been so unwell, we should have sought their acquaintance.
Very quietly we rested in our camp. Esmeralda did what she could. No one
came. It was just such a spot one could wish to die in. Yes; but who is
to write “Tent Life with the English Gipsies in Norway”? Where are the
Birmingham bagman’s two copies? Where will be the many others required,
including that for the officer with the Roman fever? Are they to be
disappointed? No: we shall not fail them, in the closing scenes of our
nomad wanderings.
Noah came back before our aftensmad, with thirteen minnows, and
Zachariah three, which were fried for tea, with fladbröd and butter. The
afternoon was beautiful, and at nine o’clock we retired to rest.
It is Tuesday, 16th August. _En route_ Zachariah, “Vand” “Yog.” We are
all up at half-past three o’clock. It rained a little, and was very
cloudy. One carriole passed on the road in the night, and another early
in the morning. Noah lighted a fire, and we had Australian preserved
meat, and fladbröd, and tea for breakfast.
When the gipsies were packing up, a man and a boy came across the river
in a boat, to look at the donkeys. Whilst they were absent from their
boat, Esmeralda went to the river to wash, and getting into the boat to
amuse herself, it got detached from the side, and she was floating away,
without oars, into the middle of the river, when she jumped out nearly
up to her middle. This incident, she did not relate until afterwards,
thinking we might be angry with her, for getting into the boat.
The tents are struck, the donkeys loaded, and we are off at eight
o’clock. The rest and repose at our beautiful camping ground, had given
us renewed spirit. We were decidedly better. The weather cleared. The
road winds, through a diversified scene, of thick fir woods, and
occasional enclosures. One very large gaard on the opposite side the
river, before we reached Sorum, was admirably arranged for comfort and
convenience. It was pleasantly placed above the river. We noticed a
pigeon-box against a large granary, the only one we saw in Norway.
Coming to a delightful spot, near a stream of water, in a wood, not far
from the road, we halted. There were some houses on the other side the
road. One woman was singing, who had an excellent voice. We seldom heard
any singing in Norway. Singing birds, and singing women, were scarce. We
were pleased with this woman’s voice.
Our middag’s-mad consisted of Australian meat, fladbröd and butter, and
cheese and tea. We had also chocolate. An altercation took place
between Noah and Zachariah. Mephistopheles shouted so loud, we gave him
a bang on the head, which effectually laid his spirit low.
At half-past three o’clock, the party were again _en route_. The country
was very pleasing; the weather delightful. Zachariah played, from time
to time, his violin, as we slowly journeyed along. The Sorum Station is
a quaint old place. The road passes through a sort of court surrounded
by wooden buildings. It is kept by very respectable people. We purchased
twenty-two skillings’ worth of fladbröd and butter. All the _gens de la
maison_ assembled to see us, including the traveller, who had passed in
his carriole.
With mutual salutations, we again left, Zachariah playing his violin, as
we passed through a thick forest. Then we had more enclosures, and some
pretty rural lanes. At last, towards the close of evening, when the road
passed through an open fir wood, we noticed a large lagoon, or open arm
of the river, to our left, on the margin of the wood.
A halt was called, and we camped on the edge of the wood, below the
road. Our tents were pitched near two tall Scotch firs, standing outside
the wood, with a pleasant view across the lagoon. It was from six to
seven o’clock, when we halted. Noah and Zachariah went fishing, but
without success. Our aftens-mad consisted of tea, ham, fladbröd, butter,
and chocolate. Esmeralda and ourself practised Romany. Our health was
fast returning--in fact, we were almost as well as usual.
Up at four o’clock. Now, Noah! Zachariah! Noah got the water, and our
fire was lighted. We were just going to breakfast at five o’clock, when
three men, and a peasant woman came by. They were going harvesting. Loud
were their exclamations of “peen giære” (fine beauty), “meget peen,”
“nei, nei.” They looked curiously at our preparations for breakfast, and
then left.
When Noah was loading our donkeys, three men and a girl came to see the
donkeys, and were surprised at the weight they carried. It appeared we
were at a place pronounced like Helgst, about one furlong from Nœs.
At seven o’clock, pushing onwards along a pleasant forest road, we again
came to enclosures. Then a church appeared to view and a rifle range.
The range appeared a very short one, having a booth, apparently used as
a shelter for the marksmen.[118] We had now left the Valders, and had
seen some of the beauties of the Aadalen. Nœs was at the upper shore of
the Spirilen Lake, and it would be necessary to cross the Beina at its
outfall to the lake.
The Nœs Station is large, and in a wooden building near, we found a shop
containing a variety of goods of all sorts, and sizes. First we bought
wooden spoons, and soap, for twenty-two skillings, and then some
fladbröd for one mark. Noah had gone beyond the house, to the
ferry-boat, on the lake shore. Esmeralda and ourself were leaving the
shop, when we met Noah, with a gloomy countenance. He informed us there
was no horse-boat, and the donkeys could not possibly cross.
Saying we should soon see whether we could cross, we all went down with
a civil man, who seemed the owner of the ferry, and premises. After
much talking, he explained that the steamer left at seven o’clock in the
morning, and it was now nine o’clock, and we were too late.
Looking at the two small boats, we explained to the ferryman, that we
must get across somehow. He seemed to catch our meaning; but our gipsies
shook their heads, and said the poor donkeys would be drowned.
To continue our journey, we were determined. The obstacle of a river was
not to be thought of, for a moment. A day would be lost, by camping at
Nœs until the next morning. Although we might probably make up lost time
in the steamer, still we preferred going on by land, if possible.
Returning to the shop, we bought a pound of white sugar for 20
skillings. The old man in the meantime appeared with two men, and poles,
and a strong tether rope, and an axe. Again we returned to the sandy
beach. Noah and Zachariah were very desponding at the sight. It looked
very much as if they were going to erect a scaffold, and behead the
donkeys on the spot. The owner of the ferry shortened one of the poles,
and in a few minutes, the two small boats were securely lashed to the
two poles, extending over them crossways. Our gipsies were still unable
to disconnect the donkeys, with anything short of drowning.
A small crowd of peasants now collected to view the passage of the Beina
by the English gipsies in Norway, with their animals and baggage. Most
of the men, who chewed tobacco, were dressed in light jumpers, patched
trowsers, and large heavy boots, without stockings; the kind-looking
stout female, who sold us the fladbröd, was there, and young peasant
girls, with handkerchiefs tied over their heads.
The Tarno Rye was first bridled, and led to the boats by Zachariah.
There it decidedly refused to go any further. Zachariah pulled, Noah
lifted at its hind legs, ourself and two men lifted at the fore legs.
The struggle ended, in our fairly carrying the donkey into the one boat,
at the risk of all coming down into the water, together with one
tremendous splash; the other boat was turned sideways, and we forced the
Puro Rye into it, whilst a man held its head. The boats were quickly
rowed off by another man, and the animals safely landed.
One man was bold enough to ride one of the donkeys to a wood close to
the sandy beach. Zachariah rowed back. All were highly pleased at the
success. The Puru Rawnee made a tremendous fight. Zachariah tugged, and
the Puru Rawnee got one hind leg over the boat’s side; but a stout
fellow, who ultimately nearly pushed it over Zachariah, placed its leg
safe in the boat. The baggage was put in the other boat, to balance the
donkey, and then they crossed the river.
The boats returned. We paid the man fifteen skillings, which seemed to
satisfy all, and with our gipsies, and the rest of our baggage, soon
reached the other side. Several were collected, when we landed: one
gentlemanly, well-dressed Norwegian, looked at our maps, and pointed out
the route. Esmeralda immediately began to castigate her donkey, then
scolded Zachariah, and was in her turn scolded by ourself, whilst the
boatmen drank “gamle norge” in our aquavit.