Norway and its fjords

p

I

THE LIBRARY

OF

THE UNIVERSITY

OF CALIFORNIA

RIVERSIDE

GIFT OF

Mrs, Helen Ranney

NORWAY AND ITS FJORDS

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

The Log of The Ladybird
London to the Nore

■j-^- ft -4 : 1

11

NORWAY
AND ITS FJORDS

M. A.^WYLLIE

u

WITH SIXTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR BY

W, L. WYLLIE, R.A.

AND SEVENTEEN OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS

LONDON

METHUEN & CO.

NEW YORK

JAMES POTT & CO.

1907

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I

PAGES

The charm of the open sea — The pilot — The shelter of the
Fjord — Gogstad and the Viking ship — Alf, the timber
ship — Drammen — Oscarborg — Carl-Johans Gaden — The
Viking ship — Gear and the sepulchral chamber — Old
burials — Funeral rites — Hervor rouses Angantyr —
Angantyr threatens — Tryfing is flung to Hervor . . 1-16

CHAPTER II

Christiania — Ancient and modern art — Early painters — Dahl,
Fearnly, Baade, and Frich — Adolf Tidemand — Gude,
Cappelen, Carl S. Hansen — A gruesome story — An
execution — Collet, Ender, Otto Sinding — Three brothers,

^ Heyerdahl, Krohg — Erik Werenskiold — Fritz Thaulow

Q — Eyolf Soot, Gustav Wentegel — Peasant-born sculptors
— — Mathias Skeibrok, Stephen Sinding — Casts from the

Q antique ...... 17-31

0)

O

O CHAPTER III

^ristiania — Holmenkollen — Oscarshal — The fairy - tale
Q) room — A Norwegian winter — Notable men — Cleanly
^ Christiania — The oldest railway — Lake Miosen — George
—^ Bidder the calculating boy — Gudbrandsdal — The saeter
^. of Mork — Phyllis of the uplands — " Gammel ost"—

Lonelyfarms— The store-house— Longing for saeter life 32-47

V

I

00

I

vi NORWAY AND ITS FJORDS

CHAPTER IV

PAGES

Laurvik — Colin Archer the shipbuilder — The Fram —
Nansen's simple means to attain his end — Skien — Henrik
Ibsen — The Saetarsdal — Saetarsdal costume — The oldest
glen in Norway — Christiansand — Oft-painted Jaderen —
Stavanger — Stavanger cathedral — Karmo — Kopervik,
Haugesund — Restless waters — Flatholm Fyr and Hafs-
fjord ...... 48-61

CHAPTER V

The wondrous, beautiful Hardanger — A stony intruder —
The Barons of Rosendal — The Folgefond — Crossing the
Folgefond — Sondefos — Horses manage the climb — Odde,
the end of the Sor Fjord — Waterfalls in the environs of
Odde — Utne — The Thing — OksenQeld — King Utne's
runic stone — Delightful Norheimsund — Musical sur-
roundings— Hunt the fiddler — Strephon — A descendant
of Ole Haugen — The Hardanger violin — Medaas, Isak
Nilson of Boteren — The Ofsthus Fos in sunlight — An
uninterrupted view of the river . . . 62-83

CHAPTER VI

National dances — The Battle of Svold — The polska— The
hailing dance — A panacea for inal-de-Dier — Awaiting
Olaf s ship — Anger of Eirik Jarl — The real Long Serpent
— Sigvaldi Jarl manoeuvres — In battle array — Ulf replies
— Olaf fights most boldly — The doings of Eirik Jarl —
Desperate fighting — Comes Hyrning with his followers
— Thorkel's advice — Success of Thorkel's advice — Great
is the Jarl's luck — King Olaf dies . . . 84-101

CHAPTER VII

Bergen on the By Fjord — Binding's monument — Ole Bull —
Madame Malibran — Adelina Patti — Death of Ole Bull
— The laurel wreath — A studv of human nature —

CONTENTS vii

Tydskebryggen — Modern Vikings — Defrauded Jepsab —
The Hanseatic House — History of the League — DecHne
of the trade — The primitive jagter — Queer seamanship— ^
Old-time battles — Description by Samuel Pepys — Ludvig
Holberg — His early life — His death . . 102-122

CHAPTER VHI

Bergen — Grieg — Music — The Nordaasvand — Edvard Grieg
— Troldhaugen — " Just a bar, please " — Grieg's forebears
—The influence of Ole Bull— Richard Nordraak— " Jeg
elsker dig" — Franz Liszt — Peei- Gynt — Sdr Fjord— ^
Bolstad Fjord — The Vosse-Elv — The ceremony of name-
fastening — Voss— Verdandi, Norse representative of the
present — Voss Church — The old Finneloft — Hrolf Blakar
— Adieus to Voss ..... 123-143

CHAPTER IX

The Sogne and Naero Fjords— Aurlands Fjord— "Let go"
— Carioles and stolkjaerre — Fjord horses— On the i*oad
to Stalheim — Stalheimsklen — Great Jardalsnut — The
road to Bakke — Norwegian cattle — A perfect rainbow —
Fjaerlands Fjord and Mundal — Bdjumsbrae — Suphelle-
brae — Alone at the foot of Bojum — The haunt of the
Jotnar — Balholm — King Bele's Bautasteinar — Runatal —
Odin's Song — What Odin learned from the runes— An
artistic home — Time and tide wait for no man . 144-166

CHAPTER X

Loen, Merok, Naes, and Molde — Hornelen — Loen — Lake
Loen — Turf-roofed gaards of Naesdal — Nonsnib —
Kjendal — Merok — A zigzag road — " Cherrmans to dee
front " — Geiranger Fjord — Under the shadow of mighty
chffs — The Romsdalhorn — The valley of the Roma —
The Mongefos — How the water falls — Molde — Molde
Fjord — Charming surroundings — Bjornstjerne Bjornson
— Pure peasant stories — Voluntary exile — Jonas Lie —
Alexander Kielland 167-190

NORWAY AND ITS FJORDS

CHAPTER XI

TAGES

Trondhjem and its Kings— Trondhjem Cathedral — Advice to
visitors — Back to comfort — We are of one tongue — The
bard as an historian — Scandinavia and ancient Greece —
Heathen gods — Old records — The Peace of Frddi —
Trondhjem and its Kings — Harald's vow — The Norman
March— Rolf Ganger— "The Ballad of Rou"— The
Norman Flood — Harald Harfagre — Haakon the good
Christian — Olaf Tryggvason — Halfred the Scald — His
song of the heathen gods — Saint Olaf— Magnus and
Harold Haardrada — The Vaeringers — Peaceful Kings
Olaf and Eystein— Troublous times — Bernadotte — The
Storthing — King Haakon vil. — Military service — The
new militia ...... 191-22 1

CHAPTER XII

Torghatten — Mrs. Pilot — Narvik — Lofotens — Tromso and
Lyngen — Hestmann and the Sisters — The bolt that sped
— The pilot's wife — Lofoten Islands — Hardy Norsemen
— Torfisk and Klipfisk — The world's consumption of
dried fish — Vaags Fjord — Tromso— Midnight — Cluster-
ing pinnacles — Lyngen — Lapp Encampment — Lapp
clothing and ornaments — A Lapp baby — Balto and
Ravna — Lapp boots — An Englishman's experience —
Home life amongst the Lapps — A warm, dry shelter —
The Kota — The tent — A picturesque group — Norway's
desert boundary ..... 222-246

CHAPTER XIII

Hammerfest and North Cape — Soro Sund — Dr. de John's
dark brown cod-liver oil — Nansen's welcome — Meridian-
stdtte— Fog — The Bishop's belief in the kral'en— Octher
" encreases knowledge " — Hjelmso — North Cape flora —
Norwegian trees and flowers — Wild animals — Hans
Haugen — Homes of the elk deer and glutton — Lemming
— Lemming seek submerged Atlantis — A Lemming year
— Linncea borealis, national flower — Reindeer moss —
Eider-duck rugs — Warm and comfortable 247-267

CONTENTS ix

CHAPTER XIV

PAGES

Eozoon — The Devonian Age — Triassic and Jurassic times —
The Ice Age — Deep fjords — Neolithic man — Early
workmanship — Jotnar and Thursar — Icelandic poets —
Eddas — Sagas — Aud, Queen of Dublin — Burnt Njal —
The beardless carle — Bergthora's avengers — Sigmund
— Skarphedinn sings a mocking song . . 268-285

CHAPTER XV

Spitzbergen — The life-giving Gulf Stream — The phantom
ship — The hardy hunter — H.M.S. Callipso — Famine
bread — The Fox and East Glaciers — Cutting up whales
— Fulmar petrel — A whaler — Fauna — Poor Balccna
boops — The snow bunting — The height of the midnight
sun — Latitude 80° 24' N. — Prince Charles's Foreland —
The beliefs of the Vecti— The daughters of Ran — The
coast of Britain — The Thames once more . 286-306

Index ....... 307-315

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

IN COLOUR

The Vectis at Christiania

Timber Barque off Stavanger

Christiania from Holmenkollen

The Folgefond from Norheims Sound

Bergen from the Pudde Fjord

Tydskebryggen, Bergen

House of Edvard Grieg and the Nord-

AASVAND ....

VOSSEVANGEN ....

Naerodal .....
Balholm on the Sogne Fjord
LoEN Elv .....
Trondhjem ....

Lofoten Islands
Tromso (Midnight)
Hammerfest ....
Graves of Norwegian Whalers, Recherche
Bay ......

Frontispiece

Facing page 6

)) 33

75

„ I02

„ IIO

125
» 136

„ 160

226

232
» 249

» 291

IN MONOTONE

Viking Ship found at Gagstad, near
SouRDE Fjord ....

Beds found in the Viking's Ship .
" Sisters " .

By Hans Heyerdahl

10
10

25

xu

NORWAY AND ITS FJORDS

Carved Door from Old Church at

Hallingdal ....
" Norwegian Winter's Day " .

By Fritz Thaulow

"A Solitary Couple" .

By Adolf Tidemand

"Melting Snows"

By Fredrik Collet

"The Bachelor"

By F. Fagerlin

Cariol and Fjord Horse, Naerodal

Nonsnib, Lake Loen

"The Funeral of a Peasant"

By Erik Werenskiold

Trondhjem Cathedral .
"Frokost" (Breakfast)

By Gustav Wentzel

"Scene in the Lofoten Islands" .

By Otto Sinding

Drying Stock Fish

The Fjeld Lapperj of the No-man's-land

THAT divides NORWAY FROM SWEDEN

The Whaler's Harpoon, Spitzbergen

Facing -page 29
35

45

58

85

147
172

183

194
220

228

235

244
298

Note. — The Publishers desire to thank the Artists for their kind permission
to reproduce their pictures in this book, and Messrs. Veering, of Christiania,
for their assistance in obtaining photographs.

NORWAY AND ITS FJORDS

CHAPTER I
THE CHARM OF THE OPEN SEA

THERE are many ways of seeing Norway, — by liner,
fjord steamer, yacht, or on foot. Perhaps it is
possible to see most and to learn most by walking, and
the help of the post steamer. But then time is needed,
and time nowadays goes quicker than of yore, so that
I am inclined to think that our way was the best, namely,
boarding the Vectis, as she lay in midstream on the
Thames, with bag and baggage.

One feels like the snail whose shell forms a part of him,
that in this great big ship " Home " was always at hand,
which added greatly to both pleasure and comfort. It
was wonderful to see how men and women, who had
come on board more or less weary and jaded from too
hard a London season, overworked from a long session
in Parliament or in office, revived after a day or two
spent at sea. They lay drowsily extended in various
positions of comfort on their chairs on the broad white
after-deck, the happy moment after lunch ; too soon to
get to work or play, the tremor of the great screw
acting as the mother"'s foot on the cradle rocker.

The deck was partly in shadow, partly in sunlight,
I

2 THE CHARM OF THE OPEN SEA

with a delightful breeze ruffling the surface of the blue
sea, and the long white wake streaming away to the
horizon. Care was left behind. The stress and hurry
of everyday life, like the ship's wake, receded in the dis-
tance. We looked calm enough now, basking in the sun
with no thought of to-morrow, content to drink in the
invigorating forces of air, sea, and sky. The ship's kittens
gamboled silently, dodging in and out under the chairs
of the sleepers ; every now and then the gong throbbed
as the watching figure in the bow, standing like a black
statue, caught sight of a ship to port or starboard.

I really think this is what yachting should be — no
responsibility, no guests to keep amused, plenty of nice
people, and punctual meals.

Norway had been discussed, and books referred to and
read, whilst the ship steadily forged ahead. But all
passes. The sky that looked so blue the day before had
slowly become overcast, the sea too was distinctly rising,
the frothy wake no longer stretched straight to the
horizon, but, like a wounded snake, coiled and curved
restlessly. The sea, a deep indigo, rose in waves capped
with transparent green and white feathery crests, with a
great under swell rolling in from the west like some
grand bass motif underlying the music of the lesser
turmoil.

It was clear that the ship was no longer under the
protecting shelter of the Skaw, — and the stormy Skagerak
open to the west acted as a highway to the ocean
swells. Through the driving mist appeared quite a fleet
of sturdy Norse double-ended fishing boats with their
foresails a-weather, snugging down as they tacked back-
wards and forwards over the mackerel shoal. Each carried
four long spars resembling great fishing rods, which gave
tlie craft a spider-like appearance.

THE PILOT 3

One small boat detached itself from the fleet, evidently
trying to intercept oiu' ship. She had a red cloth down
the middle of her white mainsail, the distinguishing mark
of the Norse pilot. As the pilot approached he threw
out enormous fenders, great hairy things, masses of rope
yarn threaded on chains, but he omitted to hoist his flag.
The officers of the watch, not grasping his intention to
board, did not give the word to slow in time, and the
poor pilot went bobbing astern, tossed up and down on
the great sea. Though we turned astern with our pro-
pellers, some minutes elapsed before he was again able to
overtake the ship. As he ran under our lee all the wind
went out of his sails, and it was clear that he would only
have time to scramble up the ladder that a running
Lascar hastily threw over, making it fast to the rail of
the poop. Waiting his time, he cleverly jumped as his
boat rose on the crest of a wave, and was on deck shaking
hands in a moment. His imperturbable, solitary crew
sheered off, and, after lashing the helm, proceeded in a
leisurely fashion to lift in the heavy fenders.

These pilots are a fine body of men, numbering some
five hundred, who mostly farm, work in the forests, or
fish during the winter. "When the summer comes on
they leave their farms in the charge of Mrs. Pilot and
the little Pilots for months together. It is the King
who decrees where the pilot stations are to stand. The
administration lies in the hands of three superintendent
pilots, each in his own district assisted by master-pilots,
who in their turn supervise the ordinary pilots.

I asked one man what the fee depended on, and his
answer was, that the tariff" was fixed by law; the fees
depending chiefly on the di'aught and capacity of the vessel,
and the season. If he was privileged he kept the fees,
with the exception of 14 per cent, that went to the relief

4 THE SHELTER OF THE FJORD

fund for the old and invalided, the widows and children.
" Ah ! " he said, " we do not mind giving the money to
keep om- poor.- You might not think it," he went on,
" but as many as 17,400 vessels are sometimes piloted in
one year, which brings in a lot of money. Anything of
30 tons burden, coming from or leaving for ports out-
side Norway, must have one of us on board ; even fishing
vessels, if they are over 130 tons burden. Yes," he said
reflectively, " I suppose the money we earn as a body
must be some 615,000 krone."

My friend was a tall good-looking fellow with clear
blue eyes and fair hair. He had been in America and
spoke English well, and whiled away a most instructive
hour as the ship wound in and out of the narrow walled-
in fjord that leads to Gudvangen. I repeat his conversa-
tion here, as the pilot is the first and most important person
that welcomes the visitors to Norway.

Higher and higher rose the wind, striking the water in
sharp squalls which sent the spray flying from the crests
of the waves, till out of the hurly-burly loomed a tall
tapering lighthouse — a dim ghost, grey at first, which, as
we approached, showed up red and white, standing high
on bare rocks with clustering wooden houses at its base.
This was the Faerder Fyr, that throws its welcome beam
during the dark days across the entrance of the Christiania
Fjord. Once under its lee the swell subsides, and gradu-
ally dies away as the ship steams steadily northward,
passing hundreds of rocky islands.

The squalls dash down the inlets as we go by, ruffling
the inky water, which breaks into a mass of fierce little
white horses. Through the mist one can just make out
the higher land of Telemarken, a country of rocky slopes,
and the beginning of the great forests of conifers which
clothe the banks that rise to a moderate height on either

GOGSTAD AND THE VIKING SHIP 5

side of the fjord. After the rough weather it was most
pleasant to ghde over the still water, entering into this
land of pine-clad ridges, intersected in all directions by
valleys, lakes, and torrents.

The whole region is historic, easily populated in imagina-
tion with our old Norse ancestors, plundering seafaring
pirates that they were, who, coming as they did with fire
and sword, sowed the leaven of their freebooting love of
adventure and danger in the blood of the Anglo-Saxon race.

" Bautastenar " — the stones carved with runes telling the
names and parentage of the old Vikings — stand here and
there. At Gogstad, near Sandefjord, an old chief was
found buried in his war galley, with all his arms, posses-
sions, and treasures. As late as 1880 a large barrow,
called Kongshangen (the king's mound), was opened by
Mr. Nicolaysen, discovering a ship of the ninth century, '
built of oak 70 feet long, with the mast, oars, rudder, and
even some of the shields still hanging on the upper
strake.

On the opposite shore the old town of Halden, that in
days gone by so bravely withstood the Swedes, and earned
for itself the name of Fredrikshald, comes into distant
view, and is soon passed. It was regarded as a strong
fortress, and the key to Norway. To-day Fredrikshald
is the centre of the timber traffic, where some millions
of logs are collected for export every year.

Every port in England knows the hog-backed strained
old Norwegian timber vessel, with deck-load piled level
with the rail, masts sloping all ways at once. The green
windmill everlastingly at work trying to pump out the
water that is always running in through the yawning
seams. The Alf or the Ol(if\ we know it well. Its
patched old sails, which always seem to have been cut
out for some other vessel. The line of its sheer dragged

6 ALP, THE TIMBER SHIP

out of shape by the pull of the chain plates. The great
wooden stocked anchors, and the rusty cables made of odd
lengths of chain shackled together. The white hoops
round the mast, even the smell of the burning fir from
the galley fire. Is it not all as the face of an old friend ?
Dear old timber vessels, I have met them everywhere,
tumbling over the fierce channel rollers as they stagger
under lower topsails trying to work off a lee shore with
solid green water swirling along the deck-load, and storm
staysails glistening in the spray. Or perhaps in an oily
calm, where the great empty hull towers out of the
dimpled waters high as a church, every stitch of canvas
slatting and shivering as the creaking yards saw from
right to left. I have met them being towed towards port
waterlogged with a bad list, and alas ! I have also seen
them floating bottom up, the curling surges setting their
white teeth at the drifting timber as though they would
devour everything.

Our ship steams steadily on, and it would seem as
though there is no end to the labyrinth of ice-worn rocky
islets. One channel among them leads up in the direction
of Tonsberg, the oldest seaport in the country. Only a
narrow neck of land separates us from the long fjord on
which this busy whaling port stands. It would be in-
teresting to walk over the ridge and drop down on the
Notere and Tjeme where the sailors live, and hear the
tales of the ice pack and the polar ocean, all crimson with
the blood of the struggling rorqual, of flensing and trying
out, of fogs and ice-blink, of leads and blocks and nips.
After the dangers follow the happy return of the deep-
laden whaler, her spars and rigging black with soot, and
her hull greasy from stem to stern with the fat of the
slaughtered cretacean. Tonsberg goes back to the time of
the Vikings, and is famous for its hardy seafarers.

■""^f*

■%

4 .Jk^:

-int^

DRAMMEN 7

Now we are coming up to the Isle of Basto, with its
fixed light. Beyond opens the broad bight which forks
into Sandesogns Fjord, and Drammen P'jord. Pale blue
hills fade one behind the other into the distant clouds,
and the nearer shores slope upward, covered with thick
forests of firs which seem to stretch for miles. At first
sight the light yellow water-mark, which outlines every
little cape and inlet, seems to suggest a sandy soil, but as
we steam nearer we can make out through our glasses that
the gently rounded surface is all of solid rock, no doubt
worn quite smooth by the ice ages ago ; even the fir trees
are all growing on smooth stone, though the colour where
the water no longer washes is darker and more grey.
Little wooden houses nestle, here and there, among the
trees, with sometimes a patch of bright green meadow.

Drammen is a great place for timber and pitch. Even
down at the mouth of the fjord the brigs and barques are
lying, taking in their newly sawn freights. There are
places where the steamers moor right alongside the rocks.
At first it was impossible to make out of what the cargo
consisted that came sliding down a switchback from
above, appearing and reappearing till stopped by two
men, and guided into the hold. On nearing the spot the
sun's rays caught a block on its swift course downwards,
turning the lump of ice into a great sparkling jewel. As
we passed close in to the shore, men, women, and children
came out and waved table-cloths, flags, and kerchiefs,
greeting the great ship that seemed to take up all the
width of the fjord.

Pine trees are over everything, far and near, and along
the banks are the country houses of the residents of
Christiania, with flat roofs, flagstaff's, and the gay free
flag of Norway fluttering in the summer breeze. Green
sloping lawns, jetties with skiffs moored alongside, and

8 OSCARSBORG

bathing boxes, form ideal suiToundings during the long
light days.

As we near Christiania we come to lara;e stacks of
timber, piled high on the edge of the fjord, in all stages
from whole trees to firewood. Close by on the left is a
great target for artillery practice. The fort itself,
" Oscarsborg," holds a strong position, terraced with green
sward from which grin the muzzles of quick-firing guns,
trained down the narrow reach.

Almost in line with the fort is Drobak, Avhich calls
itself a watering-place, a mass of what looks like dolls""
houses, with white poles everyAvhere. The houses of the
chalet type are painted red, pale blue, green, and yellow,
a little rustic church with red roof and white cross stands
in their midst, a brilliant spot of colour on the hillside.
Then come the cement works of Stemmestad, and farther
on the island of Steilene, on which are large tanks of
petroleum, with steamers lying alongside the rock. The
formation of this island is evidently due to some great
upheaval that must have taken place, as the strata, once
horizontal, noAv stands on its end in perpendicular lines of
deposit.

From the moment we had passed the fort the fjord
had been expanding, the porphyry ranges of Kolsaas,
Skongumsaas, and the Vardekolle lay faint and blue in
the distance, and as we passed the promontory of
Naesodtangen Christiania came into view, with a fore-
ground of many islands dominated by the old fortress of
Akershus.

Chi'istiania lacks the grand setting of Bergen and the
beautiful colour of the old houses, but as a capital has
an undoubtedly healthy look, and a sweet clean smell
comes off from the pine-clad hills, I should say the note
of Christiania, as is that of Utrecht, is one of superior

CARL-JOHANS GADEN 9

satisfaction. It has discreet verdant parks, large comfort-
able houses built of very superior yellow bricks, and public
buildings built of granite, syenite, and Labrador stone.
The palace stands in an unimpeachable position on a
height at the west end of the town, with a grand view
over the fiord, but has no pretensions whatever to
architectural beauty. It is a great block with a classical
portico, and that is all.

Being lovers of all craft that sail upon the sea, our
footsteps naturally took the direction of the sheds where
repose the remains of the Vikings' ships, but lingered
in the Carl-Johans Gaden, where the band A^as playing
Rossini's fine overture, " Semiramide." The lads and
the lasses just out from school and college, carrying their
books, walked leisurely up and down under the cool
shades of the trees, talking in little groups and listening
to the music. I cannot say I thought the girls pretty or
well dressed, but that might be due to the school-girl
stage, which has lost the charm of babyhood and not yet
attained to the grace of womanhood ; the youths, on the
contrary, looked a well-set-up race, fair hair predominating.

Continuing our way to the court at the back of the
central building of the University, we came to the two
wooden sheds containing the ships. Looking forward with
pleasure to seeing the second one, which was being put
in position the year before, we felt greatly chagrined at
being told that strangers were not yet allowed in, — "Next
year it might be ready." But things move slowly in
Norway, and it may be still " next year " when we call
again. To console ourselves we revisited our old friend
of Gogstad.

It is eleven hundred years since this old vessel was
built, and one cannot help thinking how little the art of
shipbuilding has advanced since that distant day. Clean

10 THE VIKING SHIP

and sharp both fore and aft, yet with a long flat floor,
this stout craft, one would say at once, would be able
to carry her canvas well, and would also sail close to the
wind. Whilst going free or running she must have been
very fast. Clinch-built of oak, with seventeen cut
frames (all grown knees), she was doubtless very strong ;
though, strangely enough, the frames were not bolted to
the keel, but only bound down to the planking with
soft roots.

A great feature is the mast-step, which is cut in a
large block tapering towards bow and stern, and standing
on a stout keelson. There was a long slot cut fore and
aft in a block of oak, shaped like a fish tail, and fastened
to the beams, so that the mast might be easily lowered.
Even to this day the timber round the mast is still called
mastefisk in Norse vessels. Another term which is still
in use, and which dates back to the Viking age, is starboard
(the right-hand side of the ship). For the rudder a great
fan-shaped plank was pivoted on a bolt projecting from the
starboard quarter of the ship, and as the helmsman had his
post by the tiller which ran athwart ship, this side was
given the name of steerboard.

The third strakes from the top are pierced for sixteen
oars aside, and are rather thicker than the others. The
openings are round like the looms of the oars, but small
slits have been cut out sloping aft and upward, so that
the blade might be pushed through the port from inside.
The oars seemed very short for so large a vessel, and
were of spruce, their shape just like those of a man-o'-war
cutter of the present day.

A row of shields hung outside the top strake over-
lapping each other, and painted alternately yellow and
black. These covered the ports when in position, so I
suppose they were raised higher so as to protect the heads

VIKING SHIP FOI'M) AT fiAGSTAD NKAK SOUKDK FJORD

BEDS FOUND IN THE VIKINGS SHIP

GEAR AND THE SEPULCHRAL CHAMBER n

of the roAvers when the ship was under oars. A pair
of sheers Kke the boom-crutch of a modern yacht, but
carved into horses' heads at the upper end, carried the
ridge-pole of the awning, or tjeld, which ran nearly the
whole length of the ship. Some pieces of homespun were
found, which were no doubt remains of the awning.

The rudder, by the way, hung down considerably below
the keel, but it could be triced up by a small line when
the water was shallow ; the draught of the ship was about
four feet, and the freeboard three feet amidships. But
both bow and stern rose much higher, finishing no doubt
with carved dragons. This part of the ship stuck up out
of the mound of potter's clay in which she was buried,
and has therefore perished.

There are no signs of any chafe or wear on any of the
gear. The oar ports are as sharp and clean-cut as if
made yesterday. The lower edge of the keel and stem
is quite square and unworn. I fancy, therefore, that the
vessel may have been built only just before the old Viking
died. She is caulked with a three- thread yarn, spun from
cow's hair, so she must have been meant to float, and
clearly was not put together on the spot where she was
found only to serve as a splendid coffin.

In great contrast to the rest is the sepulchral chamber,
which was evidently roughly built of huge balks of timber,
and covered over with layers of birch-bark. Inside was
the chief himself, with no doubt all his weapons and
treasure, but years ago the barrow was dug into and a
shaft driven right through the old ship's side. The
robbers left everything in confusion, and only a few
scanty remains of peacock's feathers, and gold tissue on
dark woollen stuff, ornaments of gilt, bronze, and lead,
were found, together with the bones of a tall and powerful
old man.

12 OLD BURIALS

The sagas tell of several such burials, and we may, in
fancy, bring back the scene when the new ship was
hauled up the shore by her crew of grim, fair-haired
fighting men. They sang as they pulled, and told of the
battles they had won, and the distant lands which had
been harried and ravaged, with fire and sword, under the
leader who now lay so calm and still on the bier, dressed
in his richest clothes. Hel shoes shod his feet, weapons
lay by his side, and all his gear was gathered round him,
— everything belonging to the ship, the floor boards, the
copper kettle, plates, spades, and bailers, together with
three smaller boats complete, with rudders, oars, and
spars. It was fitting that the great man should go to
Odin in proper state. Therefore all his horses and
hounds were killed and buried in the clay outside the
ship. Then the whole was covered up, and a great
mound raised over the spot.

In the song of Sigurd, the hero thus speaks his last
words, " Only one boon. Let a wide mound be raised
on the plain, roomy for all who die with Sigurd.
Surround the mound with tents and shields, with foreign
linen finely painted, and with thralls. Burn the
Hunnish one at my one side. Burn at the other side of
the Hunnish one my servants, with good necklaces, two
at his head, and two hawks, then all is equally shared.
Let there yet lie between us a ring- wound weapon, a
sharp-edged iron, as before was laid when we both
stepped into one bed and were called husband and wife.
The shining hall door ring ornamented will not then
strike him on the heel. If my retinue follow hence, then
our journey will not be poor. For there follow five
bond-maids, eight servants of good kin, my nurse, and
the inheritance which Bondi gave to his child. Much
have I told, more would I tell, if fate gave more time for

FUNERAL RITES 13

speaking. My voice decreases, my wounds swell, I told
only truth, now I will cease."

In those days there was no mawkish sentiment as to
the value of human life. The custom was to redden
the mound with blood, and this was done in royal fashion.

Here is another description of the end of an old
Norse chief. " Haki received such severe wounds that
he saw that his days would not be long. He then had a
skekl which he owned loaded with dead men and weapons ;
he had it launched on the sea, and the rudder adjusted
and the sea sail hoisted. He had tarred wood kindled,
and a pyre made on the ship ; the wind blew towards the
sea. Haki was almost dead when he was laid on the
pyre, then the burning ship sailed out to sea. This was
very famous for a long time after." {Vnglinga Saga.)

The eddas and sagas abound with descriptions of
funeral rites and burials, the accuracy of which is most
fully vindicated by the finds. For example : " The first
age is called the age of burning, then it was that all
dead men were burned and bautastones raised over them.
Then the mound age began, when all powerful men were
laid in mounds and all common people buried in the
ground." {St. Okifs Saga.)

But the mounds were dread places to the living,
especially at night where flames were seen to issue and
the ghost walked. When the burning did not take place,
the warrior was buried with his weapons and entire
equipment. Sometimes he slept with his sword under
his head. Angantyr's shoulders rested upon the famous
sword Tryfing, and Arngrim''s sons were buried there in
that manner. Angantyr, however, had not counted on
his Amazon daughter Hervor wanting the sword. A
short time after his death she left by herself in a man's
dress with weapons, and joined the Vikings, and was with

14 hervOr rouses angantyr

them for a while, and called Hervard. A little after the
chief of the Vikings died, and Hervard got the command
of them, and they came to Samsey. Hervard went on
land, but none of her men would follow, for they said it
would not do for any man to stay out there at night.
Walking on, Hervard met a herd-boy, and asked him
about news. He said : " Dost thou not know the island ?
Come home with me, for it will not do for any man to
stay out here after sunset ; I am going home at once."
Hervard replied : " Tell me, where are the mounds of
Hjcirvard.?" The boy said: "Thou art unwise, as
thou wantest to search for that at night which few dare
search for at midday. Burning fires play on the mounds
after sunset." Hervard, as is the way of women, persisted,
and as the sun set hollow noises were heard in the island,
and the mound fires appeared. The shepherd took to his
heels, and ran into the forest as fast as he could, and
never looked back.

As she came to the mound she sang —

" Awake, Angantyr !
Hervor thee rouses,
The only daughter
Of thee and Svafa ;
Yield to me from the mound
The sharp sword
Which the Dvergar
For Svafrlami forged."

She wakes them all — Hjcirvard and Hervard, Hrani and
Angantyr, and reviles them, calling those who lie beneath
the tree roots clad in helmet and mail with sharp sword
and reddened spear —

" Sons of Arngrim,
Much harm doing ;
Much have you
The mound increased. . . ."

ANGANTYR THREATENS 15

Angantyr rises and tries to put her off, and even stoops
to a lie in hopes of keeping his beloved sword, saying
that neither father buried him, nor other kinsmen ; but
the two who lived kept Tryfing. He tries to frighten
her by threats of the mound opening and belching flame.
He sings —

"Ajar is the gate of Hel,
The mounds are opening ;
All the island coast
Looks as if on fire."

But Hervor is dauntless, telling her dead father that
he cannot light any flame that will make her quail.
Angantyr then threatens the mail-clad maiden, telling
of all the awful things that are in store for her in the
future. That she shall bear a son who will be the
mightiest under the tent of the sun. He will wield
the magic sword, and this Tryfing will —

" If thou canst believe it,
All thy kin, maiden, destroy."

Then Hervor threatens the dead champions that she
will weave a spell that shall bind their ghosts rotting
in the mound, unless the sword, the slayer of Hjalmar,
the hater of mail-coats, is yielded to her out of the
mound.

The dead chief, after trying more persuasion, at last
tells her that the slayer of Hjalmar lies under his
shoulders, all wrapped in fire, and that there is no maiden
who dares take this sword in her hand : but his daughter
at once offers to hold the sharp maekir, saying that she
does not fear the burning fire, for the flames grow less
when she looks at them. And Angantyr, finding that there
is no way to stay the impetuous lady, who rushes at the fire

I6 TRYFING IS FLUNG TO HERVOR

with open eyes, at last flings out the sword into the hands
of Hervor. Then she sings —

"Thou didst well,
Kinsman of Vikings,
When thou gavest me
The sword from the mound ;
I think, King !
I have a better gift
Than if I got
The whole of Norway."

The dead chief calls his last warning, that the Tryfing
will destroy all her kin, and tells his exulting child to keep
hidden the slayer of Hjalmar —

"Touch thou not its edges.
Poison is in both, —
This doomer of men is worse than disease."

The mound closes. Then Hervor left the dreadful
plain of Munarvag, and walked down to the seashore,
but when the day dawned she saw that her ships had
sailed away, — the Vikings had been afraid of the thunder-
ings and flames. {Hervarar Saga.)

CHAPTER 11
CHRISTIANIA— ANCIENT AND MODERN ART

FROM the Viking's ship we passed on into the
University Garden to the Museum of Art, built
in the ItaHan Renaissance style, and presented to the
town by the Christiania Savings Bank. The hours for
opening public buildings in Norway do not coincide
with our English ideas of lunch at one. Twice we ha,d
thumped on the closed doors in vain, once at ten and
the second time a little after three. Cook's magic key
had opened the door for the bulk of the passengers, but
for a serious consideration of the various works of art
the rushing-through process is quite inadequate ; so we
waited about the gardens till the clock struck twelve, and
decorously entered the open portals of this infant school
in the world of art.

Norway's school of painting is the youngest in Europe.
It belongs to the nineteenth century, and blossomed at a
time when a new view of nature was setting in. Ruysdael
and Everdingen, the two old Dutch landscape painters
whose works are found in the Danish galleries, opened
the eyes of Johan Christian Dahl to the characteristic
and — in an artistic sense — unutilised natural beauty of
his native land. Painting did not burst into Norway as
it did into Holland between 1590 and 1635. It has
never had its Rembrandt and Jan Steen, Vermeer or
De Hooch, Gerard Dou, Ostade, Potter or Cuyp. At

i8 EARLY PAINTERS

that time good art came, but it is a puzzle to know why,
and also why by 1700 it was practically all over. The
year 1666 saw the birth of Magnus Elisen Berg in Norway,
who stood far and above his contemporaries, but more
as a sculptor than a painter, and more as a carver in
ivory than either. In the antechamber of the princess
in the royal castle of Rosenberg is a recess full of his
wonderful work ; one, an ivory vase, represents the
element water in Rococo style, swans on a floral cup of
water form the knob to the cover. Female figures, with
uplifted arms, make the handles, figures support the body
of the cup, and shells form the base. I wish at the time
I had looked more closely at the portrait of this peasant-
born genius, which hangs up high on the right in the
same room. We have examples of his work in the
royal collections in England, and some are in Vienna.
But none could I find in this gallery, which, of course,
may be an oversight on my part.

It was only after the dissolution of the union with
Denmark that the nation awoke to consciousness, and
asserted its independence in the domain of art. In less
than twenty years a little flock of painters had arisen,
half gods in comparison with the earlier Dutch masters;
but half gods were better than no gods at all. Popular
opinion voted them a true Norwegian school. I differ.
There was no school for artists in Norway. Nearly if not
all were obliged to go for their training to the art academy
in Copenhagen, and from there drifted to Dlisseldorf,
Munich, and Paris. Dahl is the bell-wether of the flock.
Born in Bergen in 1788, he died a professor in the Dresden
Academy in 1857. He has often been called the creator
of the romantic landscape. But in spite of his close
relations with the group of Dresden romanticists, more
especially with the pronounced romantic landscape

DAHL, FEARNLY, BAADE, AND FRICH 19

painter' Friedrichs, the dreamy view of life and visionary
conception of art of the German romanticism was foreign
to his lively and positive temperament. In reality he
was a wide-awake realist, and there is more true genius
in the stroke of his brush than in that of any other
Norwegian artist of his period. Although he lived at
a distance from his native land, he never ceased to
glorify its picturesque beauty, and returned, again
and again, to Norway to make studies and gather
impressions.

To this period belong Fearnly, a painter of decoratively
idealistic landscapes ; Knud Baade ; J. C. G. Frich,
some of whose best works, of beautiful parts of
Norway, decorate the palace of Oscarshal ; and Johan
Gorbitz, who displayed considerable talent as a portrait
painter.

The next generation, who appeared in the forties, con-
tinued their labours on German soil, where the historical
genre picture and representations of national life became
the field par excellence of the Dusseldorf painters'
endeavours. The school had not been in existence many
years before a heavy atmosphere weighed upon its pro-
ductions. It shrunk into a naiTow-minded reaction
against the high-flying, idealistic endeavours in the art
of the earlier generations. At the same time, it degener-
ated into a colouring that was chiefly a rechauffe of old-
gallery art, quite as insipid in its lukewarm sweetness as
in its motley magnificence.

Constable's talented productions in modern landscape
were unknown to the artistic development of Norway.
No reflection of the brilliant colouring and imaginative
glow that romance, at this time, was throwing over French
art was visible. The French revolution of 1848 helped
matters in so much that it drove the flock of Norwegian

20 ADOLF TIDEMAND

artists home. The most prominent personahty among
the painters, who were under the influence of the
Dlisseldorf school, is Adolf Tidemand (1814-1876), not
so much on accouut of his artistic talent as because he
was the first Norwegian figure painter worthy of mention.
Those who feel interested in his works can study his series
of pictures of Norwegian peasant life that hang round the
dining-hall in the palace of Oscarshal. From this gallery
I have chosen to reproduce his picture of the old man
reading the Bible, " A Solitary Couple." It has an old-
fashioned look about it, if it is permissible to call any
work of art old-fashioned. As I studied it I felt as
though I had opened a trunk of my grandmother's clothes,
and was looking at a dress of a bygone period, — shall we
say, early Victorian ? The material is light, soft to the
touch, and a little faded. The lace is most carefully
stitched on, the whole emitting the faint smell of a
bygone day. In this picture the aged bondi, in knee-
breeches and large-buttoned waistcoat, sits reading a
heavy-clasped Bible to his sweet-faced old wife. The
light from the window on the old man's white hair forms
a fine contrast to the dark-painted panelling. The
interior is worked up most minutely. The carved corner
cupboard and dresser, the looking-glass and table, are all
painted so that it would be quite possible to make real
ones from them. The old lady sits listening, her hands
devoutly crossed, dressed in the national costume. The
gold-embroidered cap and embroidered vest, the little
saucer-shaped gold ornament, all are recorded most
faithfully. " Nice in feeling, isn't it ?/' my companion
remarks as we pass on. It is just this nice feeling
that made Tidemand's art exercise considerable in-
fluence upon Norwegian development in culture ; not
alone in art, but in poetry and music as well, thus turn-

GUDE, CAPPELEN, CARL S. HANSEN 21

ing the gaze of strangers upon the people to whom he
belonged.

Hans Gude, who frequently collaborated with Tideniand,
for a time kept up the traditions of the Dlisseldorf school.
Under changing circumstances of life and various influences
he worked his way out of its weaknesses, and found fresher
and more personal forms of expression. In Dlisseldorf,
Carlsruhe, and Berlin he was surrounded by a crowd of
pupils, Scandinavian and German, who learnt to ap-
preciate his ability, noble disposition, and sincere
amiability.

Herman August Cappelen is the first to cast off the
German yoke. The Sam Bough of his day, he painted
the " Dying- out of a Forest," great bare rocks with
blasted and riven fir trees, gnarled stumps, against a dull
grey sky, a romantic if fictional piece of scenery. He
left behind him a large collection of capital open-air
studies, freely and broadly painted in a dark and un-
assuming colouring, that had nothing in common with
the old school.

In the sixties, Dlisseldorf ceased to be the art centre
of Norwegian painters. It had played itself out. Carl
Sundt Hansen, for a short period of his career, worked
on German soil, after which he went to Paris. He is the
only worthy follower of Tidemand as a painter of peasant
life ; but the life he portrays is melancholy to a degree.
Betrayed maidens, or young couples standing by the
coffin of their child, are not inspiriting to hang on a wall.
Life is sad enough in itself without our being reminded
of some of its bitterest pangs.

Passing these quickly by, we stopped before "The
Condemned Man's Confession." Not that this was
any brighter, but it seemed to illustrate a gruesome little
story we had read by Bjornson, In the picture a

22 A GRUESOME STORY

minister is reading to a manacled prisoner, who sits
listening with his hand over his face. Behind stands an
armed warder, who looks as though he only acted in this
capacity on rare occasions. The whole is worked up
with the same minute detail as the story of the village
murder that must have taken place in Bjornson's school
days ; no one but a boy could have seen what he did. He
tells how the inquiry was held in the schoolroom of the
parsonage, for there was no court-house, and indeed the
school had to serve as prison too. " They came in two
boat loads from Molde : the dean, the bailiff, the
military escort, and the condemned man. . . . And
then the silence afterwards. People whispered as
they moved about the rooms and out in the yard,
whence they looked down upon the school-house prison
where the steady light burned. Schoolmaster Jacobsen
was sitting there now with his friend ; they were singing
and praying together. . . . Peer's family came in the
evening in a boat, went up to see him, and took leave of
him. . . . The execution had to take place at a cross-
road, and there was only one in the neighbourhood,
namely, of Edsvaag, nearly seven miles away from where
the murder was committed. The bailiff headed the
procession, then came the soldiers, then the condemned
man, with the dean on one side and my father on the
other, then Jacobsen and my tutor, with me between
them, then some more people, followed by more
soldiers. . . . The sheriff stationed himself directly in
front of the place where some planed boards were laid
over the grave. At one end of it stood the block. . . .
Peer Hagbo knelt below on the step with his face buried
in his hands, close to the feet of his spiritual adviser. . . .
The dean was of Danish birth. . . . His addresses were
beautiful to read, but one couldn't always hear him, and

AN EXECUTION 23

least of all when he was moved. . . . The points of his
tall shirt-collar, which reached to the middle of his
ears . . . stuck up on each side of the bare-cropped head
with the two double chins beneath, and the whole was
framed between his shoulders, which by long practice he
could raise much higher than other men. , . . One thing
alone we all understood : that he loved the pale young
man whom he had prepared for death. The young man
then shook hands all round, and placed himself by his
friend Jacobsen. The latter knew what this meant.
He took off a kerchief and bound Peer's eyes, while we
saw him whisper something to him, and receive a
whispered answer. Then a man came forward to bind
Peer's hands behind his back ; but he begged to be left
free, and his prayer was granted. Then Jacobsen took
him by the hand, and led him forward. At the place
where Peer was to kneel Jacobsen stopped short, and
Peer slowly bent his knees. Jacobsen bent Peer's head
down until it rested on the block ; then he drew back
and folded his hands. All this I saw, and also that a tall
man came and took hold of Peer's neck, while a smaller
man drew forth from a couple of folded towels a shining
axe with a remarkably broad thin blade. It was then
I turned away. I heard the captain's horrible ' Present
Arms'; I heard some one praying ' Our Father.'"

Here we leave the story. The little lad never forgot
the terrible ending. All along he had pondered over the
words of the unfortunate girl who had been done to death.
She with her dying breath had said, " They mustn't do
him any harm." Conceive the boy's horror when he heard
the dean say to his father and mother that, before
receiving the Holy Communion in prison, Peer had said
to him that it was not he who had dragged the girl to the
cliff and thrown her over. If the dean wished to know

24 COLLET, ENDER, OTTO SINDING

who had done it he could tell him. But the dean said
" No ; it was only with Peer Hagbo that he had to do."
Bjornson ends thus : " This happened more than fifty
years ago. Since then (he adds satirically) NorM^ay has
utterly changed in every respect. But this is not a
picture, it is only a little short story ; but so graphically
told that it can only have been copied straight from
nature.

Of the painters that studied in Munich, the older
generation was far less important and interesting than
the succeeding one, which afterwards came under the
influence of the French open-air painting, though we have
a good representative in Frederik Collet. Born in 1839, he
began as a pupil of Gude's, but afterwards studied in
Munich, and later on was greatly influenced by the French
open-air tendency. At flrst he sought his subjects in the
south country fjord scenery, but afterwards made the
east country winter, with its masses of snow and half-
frozen rivers, his special study. His picture in tliis
gallery is perhaps a trifle uninteresting, but the whole is
unconventional and real — the turbid stream forcing its way
through the snow-covered flat, on which are nicely drawn
trees, with bare branches waving against the wintry sky.

The younger generation are, I am convinced, well
represented by the painters Axel Ender and Otto Sinding.
Axel Ender's picture "The Resurrection Morn" gives
distinction to the little church at Molde. It illuminates
the interior in a wonderful degree by its faint chaste
colouring. The surprise on the listening women's faces is
well rendered, and the angel's figure is easily poised on the
tomb.

Otto Sinding is altogether stronger. It would be
interesting to know what influence was exerted to make
these great men what they are. The versatile Otto was

THREE BROTHERS, HEYERDAHL, KROHG 25

born in 1842, and is a brother of the sculptor Stephen
Sinding, and of Christian Sinding the composer, each a
master of his art. Otto Sinding made his debut in
literature before he began his artistic studies, and tried to
find satisfaction in a variety of tasks. He divided his
great working powers between painting and literary or
scenic interests. He has painted marine pictures and
genre, historical scenes, representations of fishing life on
the Norwegian coast, landscapes, peasant life, and fishing
in the Lofoten Islands. These latter works, to my mind,
are as good if not better than any I have seen from
his brush. On page 228 is a very impressive rendering
of a fishing village among the Lofotens, The snow is
deep over the cabins and fields that lie at the foot of
great walls of rock, whose peaks jut into the mists. At
the head of the fjord are the square-sailed cod boats.
Hard frost is wonderfully suggested ; the smoke rises
straight into the still air. It is quite a typical scene in
Norway, treated in a masterly fashion.

On page 17, "The Two Sisters," by Hans Heyerdahl,
is a revelation. He, Werenskiold, Christian Krohg, Fritz
Thaulow, Gustav Wentzel, and Gerhard Munthe are
the true Norwegian school. All studied in Munich, and
afterwards in Paris. Their eyes were trained through
French art to open-air painting, but on their return to
Norway they freed themselves from foreign influences,
and worked with full consciousness for the nationalising
of Norwegian art. How well they have succeeded can be
traced on the walls of this gallery. Hans Heyerdahl is a
colourist. His beautiful picture of " The Two Sisters " was
painted after his return to Norway, and is to my mind
the most pleasing picture on the walls. It is the ripe
fruit of the twofold influence of open-air painting and
realism. The girls are real girls, with no attempt to

26 ERIK WERENSKIOLD

beautify or smooth. Thinking of nothing, they are
charming as representatives of sweet early girlhood. I
have heard it said that Heyerdahl was not a profoundly
thoughtful painter. However this may be, his talent has
a sense and enjoyment of beauty, a love of delicate form,
and a marvellous appreciation of colour.

The actual leaders in the hard fight that led in the
eighties to the victory of naturalism are Erik Werens-
kiold and Christian Krohg. Werenskiold, as I have
said before, studied in Munich from 1875 to 1880, but
early emancipated himself from the artistic views of
his teachers. He avoided picture galleries, and ac-
knowledged no other source of instruction than the
immediate study of nature. In the numerous pictures
exhibited by the French painters in Munich in 1879
he realised the road he would wish to follow in the
future ; and going to Paris for three years, he became
a thorough convert. In 1883 he settled in Norway, where
he became the artist who most clearly formulated the
programme of the tendency. His subjects are chiefly
limited to the ordinary everyday life in Norway, and
to portraits. Everything he does bears the stamp of
solidity, but in the solidity charm is not lacking. When
I came upon Ibsen's portrait it was like an oasis in a
mediocre desert of canvas. I called to my companion
to come. Here is something really worth looking at.
His answer was : " Well, you come here first. I fancy
this must be by the same man." " A country funeral."
So it was. A great deal of pathos is shown in its
unforced realism ; the landscape is as important a part
of the picture as the figures themselves, and the colour
and lighting are as natural as can be. The shadow
side of the faces catches the reflection of the pale-blue
sky ; the cast shadows on the ground, the grave covered

FRITZ THAULOW 27

with the evenly cut sods ; all are in keeping. The expres-
sion on the men's faces is a perfect study. The types
are absolutely common-place, just the people you first
meet, without any selection. Werenskiold has aimed
at simple truth, and it could not be better done. His
" Telemarken Peasant Girls," No, 302 in this gallery, are
also excellent.

In Fritz Thaulow we have an artist who seems to
belong to ourselves as well as to Norway. A well-known
figure in London society, he was greatly looked up to
and beloved by all who came into contact with him.
His artist friends in England hold his memory in high
esteem, and it is not too much to say that his death
was deeply regretted by the whole fraternity. Thaulow
was the central figure in the young generation of artists.
He studied in Copenhagen, and then in Carlsruhe under
Gude ; but his three years in Paris did more for him
than all his previous training. Enthusiastic, handsome,
full of good-humour, highly sensitive to impressions of
the beautiful, he stands yet another leader in the cause
of naturalism. In his earlier work he represented the
clear Norwegian winter's day with great freshness, but
he was extraordinarily facile. I do not think that of
his multitudinous productions this gallery has by any
means the best.

I must not miss out Eyolf Soot. The Norwegians
claim that he is the greatest colourist of the company.
Never mind at what end of the gallery you may be, his
dramatic " Infanticide "" calls you. It might be con-
sidered an importunate picture. One associates a cow-
shed with the birth of our Lord, not with the death of
a new-born infant. My sympathy goes out to the poor
young mother, kneeling on the dirty ground, gazing
into the future with terrified eyes. The light falls in

28 EYOLF SOOT, GUSTAV WENTEGEL

gently, and the cow in the next stall is evidently feeding
unconcernedly. Soot is the pointiste of the brotherhood.
His methods are seen in the portraits of Jonas Lie and
his wife. The iridescent touches lie side by side ; looked
at from a distance, they melt into one tone.

Gustav Wentegel is the last that I have space to
talk of in this chapter. Born in 1859, Norway con-
siders him one of the most eminent of this generation.
In his masterpiece of colouring, " Frokost " (Breakfast),
he depicts the less well-to-do classes in the capital devour-
ing a meal and printed matter at the same time. The
grouping is unconventional, most of the heads are seen
against a window, through which one catches a glimpse
of a street, and one of the ugly modern Norwegian
churches. The light breeze can almost be felt as it
blows through the muslin curtains. A little bare-armed
girl has come for a helping to a nondescript-looking
person whose back is towards us. All the rest of the
people are hard at work drinking, or poring over their
books. The whole is very up-to-date and realistic.
None of the men or women are at all good-looking,
but they are undoubted flesh and blood.

Sculpture was at a very low ebb at the beginning of the
nineteenth century. The world looked up to Thorvaldsen
as the marvel of his age, though truly in the present
day it is difficult to see anything to admire in the
pappy, lifeless masonry of this prolific Avorker. It seems
wonderful to think that when Thorvaldsen was at the
height of his fame Lord Elgin was actually bringing to
the notice of the world the matchless work of Phidias,
and yet no one of that day could see the enormous gulf
which separated the two. Thorvaldsen''s great hall with
its faded frescoes, drawing the attention of the passers-by
to the honours lavished on the departed, stands, tarnished

CARVED DOOR FROM OLD CHURCH AT HAl.LIXGDAl.

PEASANT-BORN SCULPTORS 29

and out of fashion, a blot in the beautiful capital of
Copenhagen. Compare this with the Parthenon, grandly
crowning the Acropolis ; even in its ruin the most
perfect monument in the world.

The earlier peasant-born sculptors in Norway were
far more talented as ornament carvers than as sculptors.
It took them some time to cast off their wood-carving
traditions and turn from the ornamental, in which they
excelled, to the free representation of the human figure.
As their woodwork is in every way superior to their
sculpture, it is lucky for the present generation that the
early productions of these old masters of carving are
to be found in the art museums at Rosenberg, the
museums of Scandinavian antiquities in Copenhagen, in
the museum at Bergen, and in the Museum of Industrial
Art at the corner of the Universitets-Gaden here. The
Historical Museum that is to contain a wonderful
collection of northern antiquities, including the two
Viking ships, will shortly be opened, — public works move
slowly in Norway. When finished it will be a harbour
of refuge for the lovely carved doors of the old Stave-
kirker, mediaeval objects, remains of the Stone, Bronze,
and Iron Age, and coins.

The Norwegian sculptors of our century begin with
Hans Michelsen, who as a soldier attracted the attention
of his superiors by his wonderful wood carving. From
1819 to 1826 he received monetary aid which enabled
him to study in Rome under Thorvaldsen. One meets
his work in Trondhjem Cathedral, in the figures of the
twelve apostles that he was commissioned to sculpt by
King Carl Johan.

In the second generation we have Bach, whose
" Jephthah's Daughter," No. 396, stands in the vestibule
in company of Stephen Sinding's "Barbarian Mother,"

30 MATHIAS SKEIBROK, STEPHEN SINDING

but with a wide gulf between. Bach, like Michelsen,
Middelthun, the ever-hard-up struggling Hansen, and
Olaf Olafsen Glosimodt, were all based on Thorvaldsen.
See Middelthun's statue of "Halfdan Kjerulf," also his
statue of " Schweigaard " that stands in front of the
University. Glosimodt, again, executed a number of
busts of famous Norwegians, and a rather nice statue of
the " Saeter Girl," but it is by his splendid works in ivory,
box-wood, and ornamental wood carving that his reputa-
tion lives.

The third generation is still an echo of Thorvaldsen.
Bergslien, belonging to a peasant family famous for its
artistic abilities, goes to Copenhagen, and executes in
marble several of Thorvaldsen's works for the museum. He
comes back to Norway and is entrusted with the equestrian
statue of " Carl Johan " which stands in front of the palace,
and afterwards with the statue of the creator of Norwegain
literature, " Henrik Wergeland," which stands in the
Eidsvolds-Plads. Fladager, again, who was a highly gifted
wood carver, drifts into sculpture when he would have been
far better employed at his wood carving. This effort can
be studied in No. 117 in his model and sketch of an angel
with font, which can be seen in place in the Vor Frelsers
Church, Now look, as we did, at Mathias Skeibrok's
" Ragnar Lodbrok among the Serpents," and his statue of
"Tired," — a servant-maid, fallen asleep from weariness,
a figure full of feeling and truth. Pause and study and
note the great stride he has made, then go on and look at
Sinding*'s " Captive Mother " and " A ma Femme," and you
will realise that Thorvaldsen"'s art is dead, and that
Norway is ready to hold her own in Europe. The rooms
adjoining the vestibule contain the casts from the
sculptures of ancient Greece. Here we wandered, renew-
ing our old acquaintance with matchless Venus de Milo,

CASTS FROM THE ANTIQUE 31

Theseus ; the headless Ilissus, and the Centaurs in conflict
with the Lapithae ; — all taken from the ruins of the
Parthenon. They were but plaster, yet we could not tear
ourselves away, and lingered over them lovingly and
long.

CHAPTER III
CHRISTIANIA— HOLMENKOLLEN

WITH a head full of art, I proposed that our next
course should consist of nature, pure and un-
adulterated, and suggested that we could find both nature
and food at Holmenkollen, one of the most delightful
spots in the environs of Christiania. The city tram takes
one to the terminus at Majorstuen, and the electric car
goes from the terminus to Holmenkollen. Should one be
doubtful about the fare a few small coins presented in the
palm to the collector is sufficient. He will take what is
his due, and nothing more. The line runs past several
nice country houses, and through a new villa colony,
neatly built and gaily coloured, through pine forest,
where, here and there, one catches a glimpse of the fjord,
till Midstuen is reached. From there is a short steep
walk to the Tourist Hotel. This is a truly picturesque
building, with much carving ; pent roofs, from which jut
ornamental dragon heads ; long balconies where it is
possible to have a cosy meal ; broad terraces with in-
numerable little tables and chairs, and a covered-in
bandstand.

I left it to our hostess to provide what she thought
best for our very late lunch or Norwegian dinner. I had
found out by this time why public buildings were only
open from twelve to three. Three o'clock is the dinner
hour, when all doors are locked and the streets are empty.

.l^^':^'''

-mi

OSCARSHAL 33

Sitting on the terrace, awaiting our repast, we enjoyed to
the full the lovely view from this coign of vantage. It had
rained once or twice during the morning, and the sun was
now chasing the great white clouds whose shadows swept
swiftly over the smooth, brilliant, green sward of the
downs.

To the left the town, with its big stucco houses and
church steeples, spreads along the shore. The glazed tile
roofs glisten — and twinkle ; beautiful deep blue smooth
hills covered with a thick growth of pine encircle the two
fjords (Christiania and Bunde) on every side ; and these
stretch away out of sight. Islands, large and small, raise
their rocky heads. On our left are the pine-clad hills of
Ekeberg, at the foot of which runs in the Bjorvik, divided
by the peninsula on which stands the old fortress of
Akershus. Pipervik is the landing-place where our ship's
launches run to and fro to the Vectis. She looks quite
imposing anchored between the shore and the island of
Horedo, while beyond again rises Bliko.

To the right is the peninsula of Bygdo, on which is the
chateau of Oscarshal. The white well-kept road, running
between the tall pines, spruce, and birch that flank it on
either side, goes gently uphill till it reaches the Hall,
which is the same that I spoke of as containing examples
of Tidemand's art representing Norsk peasant life. The
walls are also adorned by Norwegian landscapes by Frich.
In the drawing-room on the ground-floor are statues by
Michelsen ; bas-reliefs by C. Borch, from Frithjofs saga;
and landscapes by H. Gude. Nothing in Oscarshal com-
pares to my mind with the weird room in this hotel,
decorated by Gerad Munthe. This artist has done much
towards the colour and composition for the weaving of the
delightful cloths used for hangings, which are now the
prevailing styles in this flourishing Norwegian trade.
3

34 THE FAIRY-TALE ROOM

The Fairy-tale room, as it is called, is unique. It is
decorated with grotesque polychrome, fairy scenes carved
in wood and fantastically ornamented. This is the room
that the Queen uses when she, in company of the King
and little Prince Olaf, honours Holmenkollen with her
presence. Her visits are much talked of by mine hostess.
The door has long hinges that run across, great tongues
of floral flames. On either side are weird-faced Jotnar
holding keys in their beak-like mouths, carved as heads to
the tree columns that form the door-posts. Over the
door the legend runs —

"to^

" Ndrdan under fjallo.
Djupt under hello.
Der leikar ded."

Panels, illustrating fairy tales, run round the room over a
handsomely carved dado, each panel being framed by an
extraordinary pattern of threaded beads. The ceiling is
carved in a geometrical wheel pattern, intersected with
zebra-marked beams. The chairs are also fantastic,
rather Chippendale in pattern, but with a great bird, with
erected crest, forming the top of the back. The crest is
repeated again on the left-hand front leg. This is an
upper room and should not be missed. Downstairs, too,
are many interesting objects — tankards, the old-fashioned
carved wooden irons, queer candlesticks, and some good
pictures.

From this hotel the road still leads upwards, connecting
the Frognersaeter with Holmenkollen, the Keiser Wilhelms
Veien it is called, which runs almost all the way through
the woods to the saeter, which last was purchased by the
city of Christiania. The former Villa Heftye contains a
collection of Norse antiquities. There are a few old
Norwegian timber buildings, from Telemarken and the

A NORWEGIAN WINTER 35

Hallingdal, but this is, as Herodotus remarks, " As I have
heard say."" We were contented with Holmenkollen and
its view, and worked quietly on till the hour approached
for the dinner launch at Pipervik, which waits for no man,
not even the captain.

In winter, when the fjord is frozen, which, according to
the chart, it invariably is, every house in Christiania on
fete days is forsaken. All the people are gathered either
at the top or the bottom of the Holmenkolbakken,
assembled in their thousands on their ski and in sledges
to witness the sports. "To us," our hostess remarked,
" the winter is more interesting. We then have hundreds
of people, and the air is so pure," The same sentiments
exactly as are breathed by Bjornson in a sketch on his
country and people, written for Harper''s Magazine, in
which he avei's that a journey through the country in
winter is better than the ordinary summer touring. He
maintains that the people are then seen to advantage,
and that such a journey is better for one's health. He
writes: "To make this last clear, I must explain that
Norway is not the cold country which its geographical
position would lead one to believe. The reasons for this
are two : a warm current runs along the Norwegian coast,
fills the space inside the great banks and islands, and
passes into the fjords ; these same banks prevent also the
ice water from the polar seas from reaching the coast. Is
it possible that this should also have an effect upon the
people of the country? Is this the reason that this
northern country of ours, when it, about five hundred
years since, only had a population of from two to three
hundred thousand inhabitants, produced that succession
of men and deeds of which Snorre Sturlasson's great work.
The Heimskringla, has given a description — a pattern for
all times ?

36 NOTABLE MEN

"Is this the reason that our small nation, when its
strength again began to revive after destructive civil wars
and other great misfortunes (such as that raging epidemic,
the ' Black Death,' and another just as great, the miser-
able Danish rule through four hundred years), produced
that master-spirit of wit, Ludvig Holberg, Moliere's rival ;
produced a ' folk-poesy ' which in legends, songs, melodies,
and tunes may compare with that of any other country ;
and which in the com*se of time has begotten a literature
and music which are even creating considerable attention
outside our own borders ? The composers Edvard Grieg
and Johan Svendsen are counted among the first of living
musicians ; Selmer and Binding are also rising in renown.
Executants such as Ole Bull, Erika, Lie-Nissen, and
Edmund Neupert are well known in the musical world.
Henrik Ibsen's dramas, the Germans declare, have opened
up a new road in dramatic art. Alexander Kielland's
witty sketches of modern life are now as widely read in
Germany, Austria, and Hungary as in the Scandinavian
countries. Norway has also produced the greatest mathe-
matician of our time. Nils Abel, who died in 1829. Only
twenty-seven years old, after having enriched mathematical
science with epoch-marking discoveries. ..."

" Norway is a ' winter land,' and in my eyes it is then it
is most beautiful ; white valleys, dark grey rocks, and
mountains covered with forests. How finely the latter
stand out against the white background ! Or, perhaps,
the naked mountains are overrun by frozen streams and
torrents, which shine in all colours from greyish white,
emerald green, to rusty yellow ; one part of the forest
stands snow powdered, another partly powdered, and yet
another wholly green, and by its side the birch trees
delicately rime-frosted to their finest tips, or standing out
brownish blue against the verdant pines and firs. The

CLEANLY CHRISTIANIA 37

many buildings on the farmsteads, with their snowclad
roofs, lie comfortably nestled together in the dazzling
white snowfields. I do not understand why people who
travel for the sake of their health do not choose the
winter in which to visit Norway. And the air ! There
is no bacteria in that air."

We landed at Pipervik again next morning to do
what we could of the town. It was delightfully fresh,
the wide, clean streets newly swept and watered. It
seems a veritable white city, where the householder cleans
his windows and house fronts, thus embellishing his town
more effectually than the erection of grand buildings,
though these are not wanting. Karl Joans Gade is
flanked with fine houses, extending from the palace at
the west end to the station at the east. This is a grand
street, some three-quarters of a mile long, with Eidsvold
plads in front, with its rustling green trees and cool shade
— the Bond Street of Christiania. On the west side stands
the National Theatre, with colossal statues of Ibsen and
Bjornson by Stephen Sinding, and beyond a bronze statue
of Johan Brum the actor, by B. Bergslien. Then there is
the University founded by Frederick vi. of Denmark in
1811, at the back of which are the Viking ships in their
wooden sheds, and beyond again, but farther down the
Eidsvold plads, the handsome fa9ade of the Norwegian
House of Parliament.

The Norwegian faith is Lutheran, and the churches
in their internal arrangements indicate Luther"'s courage.
It has not been thought necessary to mutilate the artistic
remains of the old religion. The pictures, statues, and
gilding are allowed to remain. The ornamentation is
not very remarkable, but there is enough to show that
the Northmen have not rushed into the barbaric reaction
which led at the Reformation to the wanton destruction

38 THE OLDEST RAILWAY

of glorious old cathedrals and religious houses. The
botanical gardens, too, which are situated a little way
out of the town, are really what they pretend to be.
They contain specimens of the common wild plants of
the country, growing in the open air, and arranged in
their natural order.

We happened on a lucky day for the big market. All
Christiania and its country neighbours had assembled in
the Stor Torv, that was bright with vegetables, fruit, and
flowers. The country carts stood patiently in lines behind
the stalls. I had great hopes of seeing some of the
wonderful costumes one hears tell off. But no, the all-
pervading little shawl, thrown over the head, the dark
skirt and big apron, were all we saw — the shawl that
might be seen anywhere and any day from Connemara to
Constantinople.

There is a railway from Christiania to Eidsvold, the
oldest in Norway. It was constructed in 1851. This was
to a great extent the property of a few English engineers
and contractors. It was a most profitable speculation, as
might be expected, as it opened out this great highway
of Norway. Transit at a halfpenny a mile, at con-
venient hours, naturally induced the whole population to
become habitual railway travellers. This railway passes
through a rich fertile valley, with a pretty river winding
along it, and then plunges through some dense forests of
tall pines, with stems so straight and uniformly tapered
that they appear like huge fishing-rods. Their bark has
a fine red colour, which reflects the sunlight and fills the
whole atmosphere between the labyrinth of bare poles
with a warm tinge.

Eidsvold is beautifully situated on the river which flows
from the Miosen Lake and unites with the Glommen. In
the farmhouse of Eidsvoldvark the Norwegian constitution

LAKE MIOSEN 39

was adapted in 1814. The building has been purchased by
Government, and embellished by portraits of members of
the first diet. There is a hotel at the station, where it
it possible to procure all one wants.

The Miosen is the largest lake in Norway, and has been
called Norway's inland sea. It winds away for 62
miles, and is not unlilce Windermere, The mountains
that form its basin rise to a height of 2300 feet.
Their form is not remarkable, but their sides, sloping
down to the lake, are covered with rich emerald
verdure, rivalling, if not excelling, our own green
fields, even those of Ireland. These slopes are backed by
fine woods of birch and mountain ash, and dotted about
them are wooden farmhouses. Altogether the Miosen
is a beautiful lake, but does not excite raptures in this
country of grand scenery.

About half-way on the lake is the site of the ancient
town of Stor Hammer, now called Hamar, which before
the railway was nothing but a large hamlet, as its name
signifies. Now it seems a most prosperous and well-to-do
town, which dates as a municipality from 1848. It is the
seat of the Amtmand, or governor of the district, and of
a bishop, and is charmingly situated between two bays,
the Furnaesfjord to the north, and the Akersvik to the
east. Hamar dates from 1152, when a bishopric was
founded here by Adrian iv., whose name was Nicholas
Breakspeare. Born before 1100 a.d. at Langley, near
St. Albans in Hertfordshire, he is the only Englishman
who has occupied the papal chair. He was sent as a
legate to Denmark and Norway in 1146. On this
mission he converted many of the inhabitants to Chris-
tianity, and erected Upsal into an archiepiscopal see. It
was soon after his return to Rome that Anastasius, suc-
cessor of Eugenius, died, and Nicholas was unanimously

40 GEORGE BIDDER, THE CALCULATING BOY

chosen Pope against his own inclination in November
1154..

Hamar was destroyed by the Swedes in 1567. The
ruins of the cathedral, dating from the twelfth century,
remain outside the new town, four round arches of the
nave resting on massive piers. To reach this, one of
the rare ruins in Norway, you follow the Strand- Gaden
to the left of the station, and then Storhammer-Gaden,
passing under the railway outside the town. So much
for one Englishman who left his mark in the world and
in this town. Now to another, who did as much, if not
more, for the prosperity of Norway.

Close by the ruins is the large farm of Storhammer,
which belonged, and probably still belongs, to the family
of Mr. George Bidder, once the famous calculating boy.
His extraordinary, natural aptitude for calculation when a
lad induced his father, who was a stone-mason at Morten
Hampstead, to exhibit him. By the kindness of Sir John
Herschel he was sent to school, but his father could not
spare the goose that laid the golden eggs, and took him
away again. He was saved, however, from this misfortune
by Sir Henry Jardine, who took a great interest in him,
and arranged that he should attend classes at the Edin-
burgh University. On leaving he received a post in the
Ordnance Survey, but gradually drifted into engineering
work with Robert Stephenson, whose acquaintance he had
made at Edinburgh. With Robert Stephenson he made
this first railway in Norway, from Christiania to Eidsvold,
which now continues its way right through the country.

We steamed on till we reached Lillehammer, which you
may call a large village or a small town. It has broad
and remarkably clean streets, large wooden houses, bright
windows with white frames, and lace curtains. There is
scarcely a window in the main street that is not filled

GUDBRANDSDAL 41

with flowers in bright red pots. Everybody appears to
be industrious and well-to-do, and nobody rich and use-
less. At this point we turned, though it would have
been most interesting to explore the Gudbrandsdal,
which is watered by the Longen, and is the birthplace
of a high-spirited race among whom curious old customs
still survive. According to Norwegian ideas the valley
is well cultivated, but the land has been laboriously re-
claimed by the removal of great quantities of stones.
The chief occupation of the natives is cattle-raising,
and the breeding of the pretty horses that bear its name.
In summer many of them migrate with their herds to the
saeters, which are built high up the mountains wherever
the grass grows plentifully.

We arrived in Christiania in the late afternoon of the
following day. Long before we reached Pipervik we heard
the deep note of the Vectis, and as we arrived at the
quay the last boat was about to push off. After the long
day it was delightful to be once more on board in the lap
of luxury, which consists, in my case, of a bath, a change
of clothes, and a long chair on the cool deck. It seems
so absurd to talk as if one wanted a cool place in this
latitude 61° N., the same as the ice-bound coast of
Greenland ; but so it is, Christiania is full of sun, warm —
nay, even scorching ! The great screw, after two or three
spasmodic throbs, took up the tale, Christiania was left
behind, luxuriant, and peacefully beautiful.

We dwellers on a misty island all dream of the bright
sky of the sunny south, of its clear blue zenith, and
golden-hazed horizon. But when we have lived beneath
it for a while, and gazed upon it daily, the fiery, dazzling
beauty overstrains the senses, and the eye soon tires of its
glare. In this modest twilight of the north, the gentle
" gloamin " there is a tempered fascination that never

42 THE SAETER OF MORK

wearies us ; but grows continually in loveliness even unto
midnight, and to the joyous awakening of another day.

Whilst writing upon saeters, a night spent in one might
be as interesting reading to others as it was to me. The
privileged person in this case was Mattieu Williams, who
gladly availed himself of the opportunity of spending a
night in the saeter attached to the farm of his good
hostess of Mork. There were several of these wooden
huts dotted about a dreary moorland, round which high
peaks of glacier-bearing mountains rose. He found some
men asleep in one of the huts ; and upon awakening them,
they offered to provide him with food and lodging. As
there appeared to be many saeters, and these attached to
different farms, he inquired whether the one they pro-
posed for his lodging belonged to Mork. Whereupon
the men looked curiously at each other, and one of them,
with a significant grin, quite unintelligible to him, asked'
if he particularly wished to lodge in the Mork saeter. . . .
" Yes," was the reply, very decidedly ; for the fellows
were a dirty-looking set, and he was certain that even a
saeter, if it belonged to Thora Olsdatter, would be clean.

His answer provoked a general laugh, and they
escorted him in a procession to a hut at some distance
from the rest, knocked at the door, and called to the
inmate, who, for some time, made no answer. At last
a blooming lass, a ruddy, muscular, rural beauty — opened
the door, and looked forth with a frown of stern maidenly
defiance. After a volley of banter, which she received
very contemptuously, he was introduced as a traveller who
had come all the way from England to visit her saeter,
and lodge there for the night. He was received very
haughtily at first, until he frowned severely at the scoffer,
and told her of his coming from Mork as the guest of
Thora 01s, who had sent him thither. She then bade

PHYLLIS OF THE UPLANDS 43

him welcome, and, immediately he entered, shut the door
unceremoniously upon the grinning swains outside, who
were seeking an excuse to come in likewise. She supplied
him with supper of cheese and fladbrod, and showed him
the bed, from which she had just risen, which was to be
his ; explaining that she had slept during the day, and
that her work was about to commence, and would last
through the night. She then disappeared.

In the course of an hour he heard a wild " yodl," very
loud, but not very melodious. The damsel was returning
with a flock of about thirty goats, and some six or eight
cows. She took a little bag of salt from the hut, and,
before she fairly cleared the threshold, was the centre of
a pyramid of goats, who were crowding round her and
leaping over each other's backs, for the privilege of licking
her hand after each dip into the salt-bag. She repelled
the goats as energetically as she had repelled the men ;
but more mercifully, for she thrust the ends of her fingers
into the mouth of each before giving it the buffet of
dismissal. . . . The cows were next treated in like manner,
then seized by the horns and ears, as the goats were
seized before, and each one led to its proper stall in an
adjoining building.

The milking was a work of some time, for the girl
was quite unaided in this scuffle with her flock, and in all
the subsequent operations of milking and cheese-making.
She was queen and mistress of her own domain, and her
efforts seemed pretty equally divided between the cares of
internal administration, and the repelling of the external
male invaders ; whose gallantry seemed entirely confined to
teasing her, and led to no suggestion of aid in her really
arduous labours. It may be that the men were idle
because it was Sunday, so that they had only come up on
a visit to the saeter land. It is, however, notorious, and

44 "GAMMEL OST"

acknowledged throughout Norway, that in the saeter
woman reigns supreme. Indeed, the social position of the
male in a Norwegian saeter is somewhat similar to that
which he holds in humble English life on washing-day.

The room itself was about five yards long by four yards
wide, built of wood, and lined with shelves, on which were
cheeses already made, and the materials for making
more. The bed was of the usual rustic Norwegian con-
struction. It consisted of an oblong box made fast to
the wall, and partly filled with straw, over which were
some coarse sheets, shawls, and a sheep-skin. In the
corner opposite to the head of the bed, and almost within
arm's reach, was the great hearth, covered with a stone
and plaster dome. The other corners were occupied by
benches, on which the vessels for standing and mixing the
milk, with the other cheese materials, were placed. There
was also a second small apartment or cupboard, for the
stowage of pans, pails, etc. All was scrupulously clean in
this particular saeter. Soon after sunset, the girl came
in, bearing heavy pails of rich milk from cows and goats.
Some lumps of wood were taken from their store place
under the bed, and a crackling fire was soon blazing on
the hearth. The iron cauldron, filled with a mysterious
mixture of goafs milk and other unknown ingredients,
from which the green cheese that ripens in time to
"gammel ost" is made, was hooked to the black chain
over the middle of the fire. For some hours after the
busy lass was there, stirring, mixing, and watching till the
dawn, when she disappeared.

Most of the flat land in Norway is in this southern por-
tion of the country. There are considerable stretches in
the district around Lake Miosen in Kingerike, in the
Christiania valley and on either side of the fjord.
Naturally, the most populated parts of tke country are

D <

" 9

>< H

< is

" o

o ^

LONELY FARMS 45

the valleys where the farms cluster round a lake, or along
a river. Often in the forest districts the farms are
situated on mountain ridges, separated from each other
by long wild woods. Each parish is isolated from its
neighbour, and there are but few villages or country inns,
so that the people live a very solitary life, only meeting
on Sundays at church. The children are rather better off,
as they meet each other on their way to and from school.
On Saturday and Sunday evenings they again seek each
other on the roads, or at one of the farms for a dance.
This is, however only in the heyday of youth; this
past, they live quietly at home, happy and content.
This life can hardly be looked on as solitude, in the full
sense of the word, as the farmer, his wife and children,
servants and tenants, live and work together from year to
year.

The Norwegian farm buildings are, relatively speaking,
expensive to build. The winters being so cold, everything
on the farm has to be put under a roof. The animals
must have good warm stables, the hay, corn, roots, and
crops of all kinds have to be stored in houses, the manure
even has to be stored in a cellar under the stables, other-
wise its strength would be wasted for the land. The
older farms consisted of a multitude of small houses, each
fitted for its own special use, clustering round a courtyard.
Of late it has become the rule to limit the number of
houses on a common farm to four. The older farms, to
my mind, are the prettier, with their silver-grey wooden
walls and birch-bark roofs covered with flowering sods.
The modern farmhouse, or gaad, as it is called, is more
pretentious. The ground-floor is of stone, built for a
great cellar under the whole house. This is generally
painted white, the rest of the house, one or two storeys
high, is built of logs, and generally wainscoted on the

46 THE STORE-HOUSE

inside, and painted white or red outside. Near the main
building, but separated from it, is the laundry, the room
for the hired help, and accommodation for the winter
store of fuel. The out-building houses the animals, and
the hay, grain, and implements.

The stahbur, or store-house, is a typical Norwegian
piece of architecture, and for some reason or other in some
valleys is far more ornamental than the other buildings,
especially in Telemarken. As a rule, the stabhur is
divided into two storeys, and is used for the storage of
preserved provisions, flour, cured pork, meat, herring,
polonies, and hams ; the year's supply of fladbrod is ranged
along the walls in great piles. I might mention here
that the making and baking of the bread is an art not
understood by all, and that it is the most important and
essential article of food of the peasantry. It is made
from oat-, barley-, or rye-meal. The dough is rolled out
on a large board till it becomes as thin as a wafer and
quite big round. The baking is done on an iron griddle,
which is placed on the hearth on glowing embers.

Formerly, the sheep-skin quilts and calf-skins, when not
in use, were stored in the stabhur, with the blankets,
cotton quilts, and other household articles of value.
Latterly, these have been kept in an upper room in the
large houses. These skin covers sound cosy for a cold
night. Both are very softly prepared, and the peasantry
sleep, the calf-skin underneath and the sheep-skin on top,
the woolly side in. A smithy is generally to be found at
some little distance from the other houses ; and of old
a badstue or bathroom, where the people of the house
indulged in vapour baths. But this bathing custom
went out, Mr. Bjornson says, with the introduction of
Christianity, when the priests and monks set their faces
against it.

LONGING FOR SAETER LIFE 47

While the price of land in other countries has been de-
creasing, the reverse has been the case in Norway, in all
probability from the fact that the holdings are small, and
that husbandry is combined with other means of livelihood,
such as forestry and fishing. In some districts nearly the
whole population move to the saeter, often one or two
days' journey distant. But as a rule, it is only the eldest
daughter on the farm, with or without a female assistant,
and a herd-boy who goes there. Oddly enough, those who
have been accustomed to the life in a saeter, become ill
from longing when the summer comes should they not be
chosen to go up with the cattle ; and the same longing, it
is said, comes to the cows. If one accustomed to going to
the mountains is kept behind at the farmstead, she will
wander about, waiting and longing to get away, and on
the first opportunity, if not well looked after, the herd
will rush to the saeter, led by the bell cow, who knows all
about it.

CHAPTER IV
LAURVIK— COLIN ARCHER THE SHIPBUILDER

WHEN the reveille sounded, we were skirting the
rockbound coast of Sydl Telemarken. The rest-
less waters of the Skagerack rolled in long ridges, and
where the low skerries jutted out the breakers raved and
flung white wreaths of foam high into the air. I^ong
winding fjords stretched far into the heart of the ice- worn
hills, for the whole of this part of Norway is a perfect
maze of lakes and swift-running rivers. The rounded
summits stretched away inland for miles and miles, often
repeating the same smooth outline, ridge beyond ridge.
Fresh vistas opened as we thrashed our way west. For
a short time we would see right up the fjord, then the
headlands would block up the glimpse we caught of calm
inland waters, and all would be barren cliff's and tumbling
waves.

Throughout the livelong day the smooth rocks were
gliding past. First, in the early morning light, we looked
into the inlet which runs up to Laurvik, a mart for wood
pulp, timber, and ice. In this out-of-the-way corner is an
original and clear thinker, Colin Archer the shipbuilder,
he who first taught naval architects the truth with regard
to wave lines, after the great Scott Russell had been
working for years on a mistaken theory. Here, too, was
built the Fram^ that wonderfully sturdy little vessel which
carried Nansen and his dauntless crew all along the north

48

THE FRAM 49

coast of Siberia until the islands of Llakhof were reached,
when the ship's head was turned to the north, and she
was thrust right into that dreadful ice-pack which covers
all the dreary region of the Pole. On the 25th September
1893 she was quite frozen in, and everything was made
ready for the long monotonous drift which was to last
until the 17th of July 1896. A windmill was set to
work to furnish the power for the electric light, there
was food in plenty, even comforts of all sorts, yet those
three tedious winters must have been unspeakable in their
long-drawn-out monotony.

Nansen, full of energy, and longing to be up and doing,
chafed and fretted. His story, written from day to day
all through the lagging hours, almost makes one weary too.
Whenever there was a south-east wind and the pack was
driven in the wished-for direction, his spirits rose ; but
often the ice moved south, or stood still, and then his
rhapsodies about his home, the pine woods, and those who
waited for his return, became almost morbid. What a
relief it must have been when he at last left the comforts
of his ice-bound vessel and, with Johansen the sailor and
twenty-eight dogs, struck out over the hummocks and
mounds of the pack due north. This desperate expedi-
tion started on the 14th March. Every day a dog had
to be killed to feed the starving pack, and at last, on
the 8th April, it appeared clear that there were only dogs
enough to tow the sledges back to Franz Joseph's Land :
this was in latitude 86° 13' 6". All the way south the
poor faithful dogs were killed one by one, and at last,
when the open water came in sight, there remained but
two dogs. These were shot, and the two determined men
pushed oiF in two canvas canoes. Winter came upon
them before they had got far south, so a hut of stones and
driftwood was built on desolate "Frederick Jackson
4

50 NANSEN^S MEANS TO ATTAIN HIS END

Island."" There nine long months were spent. Bears and
walrus were shot for food and light, and when the spring
came again, the two, covered with grease, and black with
soot, started south once more, and after another hundred
miles of paddling and hauling over the ice, happened to
hear one day the barking of a dog. Following the sound,
Nansen soon found himself in the comfortable hut of the
Jackson Expedition, where the hardships and dangers of
surely the most wonderful journey ever undertaken by
man came to an end.

The most striking characteristic of Nansen's expeditions
is the wonderfully simple means he used to attain his ends.
Everything was so thoroughly practical, his sledges could
be drawn by one man. Instead of heavy boats he used
kayaks — canvas canoes copied from the Eskimo, which
were easy to mend when damaged, and could be hauled
up on the ice in a moment. They only weighed forty-one
pounds, but being decked all over they would go through
a great deal of bad weather.

Colin Archer must have built the Fram wondrously
well, for she was nipped and squeezed in the terrible pack
many times without hurt.

Helgeraa Fjord is the next inlet. It leads north-west
up to Porsgrund and Brevik. Close to it is the Langesand
Fjord. After this we pass thousands of rocky sken-ies.
Inland there are great forests, and one river, the Skiens-
Elv, brings down every year a million and a half of logs
to the sea. The trees are felled in winter, the woodman
enduring many hardships. He never takes with him
more than he can carry in his naenerkout, a kind of
knapsack that is made of birch-bark so closely platted
that it is rendered watertight. A bag of flour, salt bacon,
herrings, oatmeal cake, and dried mutton, form his rations.
From his knapsack sticks the handle of his axe, and the

SKIEN 51

toes of a pair of boots. Outside are carried a coffee kettle,
and an iron pan.

These woodmen travel on foot, or on snow-shoes, miles
away into the forests, build their own huts, which are
more often than not full of draughts, sleep on hay or
moss, never undress, though now and then they dry their
stockings ; and yet, strange to say, with all its hardships,
the Norse people long for this life.

The logs they cut during the winter are dragged by
horses to the edge of a mountain side, where they slide
down to the river below. In the early part of the
summer, when the melting snows fill the rivers, the logs
are floated. Then begins an exciting time for the gangs
of men employed, who, ready with poles, jump from rock
to log, pushing, easing, and directing the timber that is
constantly being driven into corners and backwaters.
The floater has often to wade in to his middle to cut
loose with his axe or prod off" into the river the logs which
have stuck fast. The Norwegian tramp steamer, with its
tremendous deck-load of timber, is a familiar object on all
waters, and here one may see sailing craft too loading the
sweet-scented fir, through great ports cut in their bows.

Skien, which we pass next, is the birthplace of Norway's
dramatic and lyric poet, Henrik Ibsen, the eldest son of
Knud Ibsen, a merchant of this small port, and his wife
Maria Cornelia Attenburg. For five generations the
family had consisted, on the father's side, of a blending of
Danish, German, and Scottish races, with a little inter-
mixture of pure Norwegian on the mother's side. Un-
fortunately, in 1836, Knud Ibsen became insolvent, and
the family withdrew in great poverty to a cottage in the
outskirts of the town.

After brief schooling at Skien, poor young Ibsen was
sent to be apprenticed to an apothecary in Grimstad,

52 HENRIK IBSEN

where he remained through seven long years of drudgery,
which set their mark upon his spirit. In his nineteenth
year he began to write poetry of a gloomy kind, and him-
self made a sinister impression on persons who met him.
One of his associates of those days has recorded that Ibsen
" walked about Grimstad like a mystery sealed with seven
seals."

I have read through his works with sympathy for the
man, but with little love for the characters he portrays.
Where are they ? Certainly not among the men and
women we have known intimately, and looked up to as
examples of what home life should be, upright, honest,
manly, and most courteous.

I have said that Skien is the town that lies on the
north bank of the Skiens-Elv, which here breaks through
a rocky barrier in two falls, and forms a roomy harbour.
Besides the glamour that surrounds it as being the birth-
place of so great a man as Ibsen, it is also the starting-
point of one of the greatest engineering feats in Norway,
namely, the Nordsjo-Skien Canal, which connects the
chief lake of Telemarken Nordsjo to Skien by three locks,
called the Locks of Loveid, up the Skiens-Elv hewn like
those of Trollhatten out of the rock, and on again from
Nordsjo to the Bandak lakes.

The canal opens up an inland waterway 65 miles in
length from the sea into the very heart of the
mountains at Dalen, at the west end of Lake Bandak.
The height of Bandak above the level of Nordsjo is
187 feet, which is overcome by means of fourteen locks,
five of which are at Vrangfos. The rise in each lock
is, on an average, rather more than 13 feet. The work
offered great difficulties, as some of the fourteen locks
could not be hewn out of the rock, but had to be formed
by the aid of enormous dams of masonry. The dam at

THE SAETARSDAL 53

Vrangfos, which is the largest, is 121 feet high, and
raises the level of the water 75 feet. The waterfall
thus produced is something really worth seeing. Both
as regard scenery and construction this spot deserves a
visit, besides the chance of meeting an elk in the adjacent
forests.

"Where Christiansand stands, at the mouth of the
Saetarsdal, a stream of ice once entered the Skagerack.
Saetarsdal, as its name implies, is the mountain pasture-
land of the low country. In the autumn the cattle are
driven down in great droves. At the mouth of the glen
I walked down with the procurator of the district to see
what he called a " drift." I thought it was a raft, and
was surprised to find some forty cows and a couple of
hundred sheep and goats waiting to be ferried over a
broad river. They were driven down to a sandy point,
with logs stranded upon it, and a wooded hillock rising
behind. There they were, huddled together, bleating and
lowing, and switching their tails in the calm water. The
goats perched themselves on the logs, and men stood
amongst them ; while a flat ferry-boat, with a load of
small creatures, was slowly rowing from the land.

It was calm, and the hills had now begun to be worth
looking at ; the light was good, so the drift made a pretty
picture so far. " The procurator had bought a cow, some-
one else a goat ; and these two were to remain behind.
Boat -load after boat-load of small cattle were pitched and
tossed in, and ferried over ; and the poor sold goat was
left alone bleating lamentably. Then the cows were
driven down to the water's edge ; three or four were put
into the boat ; and amidst loud shouts of ' Keesa, keesa ! '
away went the herd over the still water, snorting and
blowing. Some went up stream, some down, but all tried
to lay their noses on their neighbours' backs, and the

54 SAETARSDAL COSTUME

boat had hard work to keep order. One obstinate cow
was hauled over by the horns ; but all landed safe and
sound at last ; and they walked deliberately up the
opposite bank, cropping grass and lowing as if they were
used to swimming two hundred yards."

At another station I met a party of drovers with six
hundi'ed and fifty beasts. They were dressed in native
costume. "All clothes in this glen have an upward
tendency, which it is hard to account for. But so had
we, for the matter of that, some hundred years ago, when
small boys' trousers were banded and braced close under
their armpits. We either took the fashion from the men
of the Saetarsdal, or they took it from us, and being slow-
moving there it is still."

In other countries people have waists, more or less,
short or long ; here they have none. Men fasten the
waistbands of their trousers round their necks, and put
their arms out of the pockets. Waistcoats are put on
like neckcloths, and the general effect is that of Mr.
Nobody, as drawn by Cruikshank. The women, in like
manner, fasten their petticoats round their necks; but
they forgot to lengthen them when the fashion came in ;
consequently their coats are kilted. They wear many
different colours, each skirt appearing under the upper
one, and the whole turn up at the edge. It is not
unlike the bright coloured cloth dress of the Lapp, but
the shortness of the Lapp costume is not so noticeable,
as they wear gaiters strapped round their legs.

Saetarsdal is now a wide pastoral glen, but every rock
in it is ice-ground for a distance of 112 miles, as far
as the road extends north.

At Valle, after passing through a wild narrow pass
between bare rocks of great height, the glen widens into
a broad green strath, dotted with stones as big as houses.

THE OLDEST GLEN IN NORWAY 55

set in the velvet turf as if planted there on purpose.
The houses are built of vast logs as big as three modern
Norwegian fir-trees. Their corners are carved posts, their
roofs project, there are galleries and carved door frames,
and all about them is old, dark brown, and strange.
"At the roadside stood a tall, well-shaped, straight-
limbed, pretty girl, with a plaid thrown over her shoulders,
and her head rolled in a large shawl. She wore a jacket
about six inches long, and a waistcoat to match. She had
silver breast buckles, bits of red worsted embroidery here
and there, and several petticoats of various colours, the
longest of which just reached the knee. She had a magnifi-
cent pair of garters, with bright silver buckles, and a neat
pair of legs in blue worsted hose. As she stood knitting
behind a little fir tree, she was the very picture of a wild
mountain milkmaid. She vanished like one of her own
kids when she found that she had been seen.

This is said to be the oldest glen in Norway : the
language is mixed with strange words, some of which
sound like Welsh or Breton. It is said that Scotch
colonists were planted here after a plague had thinned
the natives. Old as this human history is, older ice-marks
are perfectly fresh in Saetarsdal, and sea-shells yet stick
to rocks about the level of the King's palace at Christiania.

Christiansand stands upon ice-ground rocks. All the
islands, for miles out to sea, are roches montonnces, peering
above the waves. The road leads inland through a wild
pass, with hills on either side, with dark pines growing
in chinks in the grey rock. The bottom of this pass is
filled with a plain of boulders and sand, which look as
if ice had dropped them yesterday. A good mountaineer
can walk in a few days from Valle where waters run south,
to the head of the Hardanger, or to Bukke Fjord, whose
waters run west and south-west.

56 CHRISTIANSAND

Christiansand might be called a square town, with
water on three sides of it. All the streets run either
north-east or south-east, exactly at right angles. To
the south is the fortified Adderoen, which divides the
Nestre Haven from the Astre Haven, and to the north
is the river called Otteraa, which is crossed by a wooden
bridge to Lund. It is the seat of one of the five bishops
of Norway ; is pretty, big, and clean ; has a fine harbour,
from which regular lines of steamers run to England,
Scotland, Germany, and Denmark. The population is
fourteen thousand seven hundred.

Christiansand is the most important town in the south
of Norway, and from it, beginning in Jordenskjolds-
Gaden, winds the long, pleasantly shaded road that leads
to the ever-fascinating quaint valley of Saetarsdal.

Through the mist we can make out the Naze or
Lindisnas, a conical lighthouse perched on a rounded
mass of rock, seamed and rent from crest to base.
Outlying rocks stand among the breakers, and the foam
dashes high up the cliff. In 1650 the first lighthouse in
all Norway was built on this cape, the most southern
land in the country. A red-sailed fishing-boat is running
before the gale, looking wonderfully small, as she rises
and falls, on the breaking seas.

Now we are off Farsund, a little seaport, almost
destroyed by fire in 1901. After it comes the light-
house of Lister, and here there is no protection from the
breeze which, blowing right along the indented coast,
raises a nasty head sea. Ekersund, famous for its porcelain,
goes by, dimly seen over the crests of the rollers.

Now the character of the coast is quite changed.
Instead of the smooth, round rocks, which repeat the
same outline over and over again, there are fertile
meadows sloping gently to the sea from the distant hills

OFT-PAINTED JADEREN— STAY ANGER 57

inland. This is the land of Jaderen, dotted every-
where with red-roofed cottages, each seeming to be
perched on its own little acre and never gathered
together into villages as in other lands. Miles inland we
can see the snowy peaks of Listermandal and Stavanger,
some peaked like sugar loaves, others humped like the
camel.

In that little inlet, ten hundred and thirty-five years
ago, was fought the famous sea-battle which made Harald
Haarfagre king of all the long, narrow land of Norway. One
wonders how many years it took him to travel to the distant
parts of his new kingdom. Of course, the channel inside the
belt of islands must have been then, as now, the great high-
way of the people of all ranks. Here the coast is quite
unprotected, except for one or two detached hummocks
standing far out in the foam-flecked, tumbling waters,
and though our ship is both long and wide, and is really
a very steady ship, the motion on board is distinctly
unpleasant. The shining wet decks and long rows of
empty chairs look mournful.

It is curious how often Norwegian artists paint this
flat country of Jaderen. One sees pictures of carts being
loaded with seaweed, knee-deep in the breakers, of the
dreary heaths and the winding country roads. One artist,
a Mr. Bennatter, has fitted up the ruins of a twelfth-
century church and made it into a studio. Perhaps one
reason for the affection they have for its rather tame
beauties is that it is so very unlike any other part of
Norway.

Stavanger is a very old town, but it has been burnt so
many times that it looks modern. It is quite a busy
place, with a big fleet of trading vessels. The cathedral
is the finest in Norway, after that of Trondhjem. It was
founded by an English bishop, Reinald, and dedicated

58 STAY ANGER CATHEDRAL— KARMO

to our St. Swithin of Winchester. In the treatment of
the interior detail this church presents a striking resem-
blance to the Knights' Hall, Rochester, which was built
by Gundulph about the same time. It has no transept,
triforium, or central tower. The arches are supported
on great circular columns, very handsome and massive,
five on each side, in the northern Romanesque style.

The ship is still plunging through the waves, and now
the passengers, who still brave the elements, have dwindled
to a very small party. The island of Karmo comes in
sight on the starboard bow, and all sorts of jagged rocks
go by as we plunge northward. A long journey outside
the skjaergaard is not a pleasant prospect in weather like
this, but all at once we notice that our wake is no longer
right astern, but trends away to the starboard quarter.
We look ahead and see that Karmo is drawing away to
the port bow. It is clear that kind-hearted Captain
Thompson has made up his mind to take us up inside the
islands. The sight of many pale faces, and all those
empty chairs, has moved him to take the longer, and to
him, no doubt, more troublesome route. Soon we are under
the lea of Skudesnas, and one by one limp, red-eyed
bodies, with hair out of curl and rumpled clothes, make
their appearance, blessing the skjaergaard and good
Captain Thompson.

Karmo is a long, low island. Like the rest of its
brothers and sisters of the skjaergaard or belt, it has two
aspects. On the west side the breakers are eternally
thundering, but on the east the water is smooth, and the
wooden houses jut out into the channel, each standing on
a sort of little terrace built of the smooth round boulders
which have been carried down from far inland by the old
glaciers and dropped in ridges on the water's edge. Many
graves and barrows of the old Vikings stand on the

2 r,

5 >

KOPERVIK— HAUGESUND 59

moors. Soon we are passing a small red lighthouse
standing alone on a rocky island, all covered with stunted
firs. Patches of green grass show here and there among
the rocky hillocks, and in the distance three factory
chimneys rise against the grey sky ; the red roofs of the
little wooden houses are sprinkled far apart, as though
in fear of a fire spreading from one to the other.

According to our pilot, Kopervik is the centre of the
universe. It has a thousand inhabitants, and a neat
white church, with a little tower at one end of the gable ;
the average death-rate is only twelve per thousand, so this
mild, damp climate must be very healthy.

On we steam, the dark green waters of the Karmosund
forming bays and inlets, or viJcs, as they are called by the
natives. Jomfru Marias Synaal is a bautasten 26 feet
high, erected in honour of some long-dead chief. It leans
towards the old church of Augvaldsnas. An ancient
prophecy says that when it falls this world will come to
an end. Farther up on the other side of the sound are
five more upright stones, called the "Five Foolish
Virgins." Haugesund stands on the mainland a little to
the south of the tombstone of Harald Haarfagre, the
chief who swore that his hair should never be cut until
he was king of all Norway.

In 1872 the thousandth anniversary of the sea-fight of
Hafsfjord, an obelisk of red granite, 55 feet high, and
called Haralds-Stotte, was erected in honour of Norway's
first king. All around are smaller stones, representing
the districts into Avhich the country was divided in old
days. The port is quite important, and the masts and
yards of many timber ships peep over the rocky hillocks
and green pastures, the red tiles of the clustering houses,
or the steel-blue of the harbour, showing here and there
in the hollows.

6o RESTLESS WATERS

After this we come to an open bit of coast, for the
skjaergaard no longer protects us from the swell of the
ocean, which rolls in long even waves. We are glad to
slip under the shelter of Bommelo, where a strange flat-
topped mountain, called Siggen, rises to a height of 1540
feet. Though its base is smooth and ice-worn, the crest
seems sharp cut and square. I wonder if the upper part
of the peak stood out of the glacier in the old Ice Age,
like an island in the sea of snow, and thus escaped the
grinding and polishing that all the other hills hereabouts
seem to have undergone. There are gold mines on the
island, though nowadays they do not produce much.

Now we are steaming close under the shadow of the
great hummocky-seamed peaks. The snow still lies in
hollows aloft, and the grey rock is hidden here and there
by stunted fir and patches of spare grass. In the narrow
sloping cliffs, close down to the water, are vivid squares of
green, where the peasant farmer has perched upon some
little patch of soil smooth enough to raise a crop of hay.
The children rush out of the wooden cabins to wave a
greeting. What a contrast to the sombre browns and
greys of their stony surroundings are the red roofs and
white and yellow fronts of these scattered homes !

In between the countless islands one catches glimpses
of the open sea, a straight hard-cut line dark against the
brilliant sky. Great breakers are thundering on the
rocks at the foot of the tall white lighthouse, and in some
of the wider inlets the swell rolls right in and dashes with
fury at the smooth ice- worn stones. Sometimes the
strata lines are tilted up steeply, making snug harbours
for the little fishing-boats ; or the bright green of a patch
of hay makes another sudden contrast among the black
clusters of rounded hummocky rocks. Then again,
beyond the breakers, we catch another glimpse of the

FLATHOLM FYR AND HAFSFJORD 6i

ruled line of the boundless horizon. All around for
miles there is nothing to be seen but the smooth rocks,
repeating over and over again the form we have got to
know so well. Cold and grey, seamed here and there
with veins of white quartz, only very scanty grass
clings in the hollows and crannies. There are
thousands of these rocks, some awash and covered
with brown weed, others submerged, and only marked
by the higher and steeper heave of the swell, and the
flicker of foam on the crest, where it tries to break
for a moment before rolling on eastward through the
deeper water.

Now we are passing a skerry, where the yeasty waters
are in violent turmoil, flinging the spray high into the
air in their wild dance. Farther on is a black rock
standing clear above the surf. A beacon of stone has
been built on it to distinguish it from its countless fellow-
rocks, for all seem to be made in the same mould. As
we look inland we see the hummocks rise ridge behind
ridge until at last, all blended with the clouds and mists
we can dimly make out the forms of giant mountains :
Flatholm Fyr and the mouth of the Hafsfjord.

CHAPTER V
THE WONDROUS, BEAUTIFUL HARDANGER

THE rocky island of Utsire, topped by twin, squat
lighthouses, stands like a sentinel 12 long miles
from the mainland. Between it and Bommelo Fjord
lie quite a little archipelago of jagged, stony islets.
Rover, Lyngso, Faco, and countless unnamed rocks,
over whicli the great ocean swells break, so that there is
a more or less sheltered channel inside, between Karmo
and Storo. Here the passage forks, one lead running
north towards Bergen, and the other twisting up, and
even widening into the wonderful Hardanger Fjord.
The sounds, and arms of the sea, stretch in all directions
right into the heart of the great mountains, and as we
steam onward fresh vistas are constantly opening. The
peaks are rent and torn in some places, smooth and
polished in others, and there is always as a background
the great glistening covering of eternal snow, which is
called the Folge Fond. This enormous mass is without
any distinct peak, and simply lies like a great white
table-cloth all over the high ground. It throws off
glaciers wherever a cleft in the rocks allows the pushing
mass to force a way down the precipice, where it hangs
suspended, like a great breaker frozen in the act of
curlins. This huge snowfield is about 20 miles long
from north to south, and about 10 miles across at the
widest part.

62

A STONY INTRUDER 63

The lower waters of the Hardanger, through a maze
of twists and turns, run for the most part towards the
north-east. Smaller channels branch off from it in all
directions. Mauranger Fjord, with lofty cliffs, pushes
right into the rocky hills almost to the snow.
Strandebarms Bugt, a big bay, stretches north. Then
the iQord narrows to a mile and a half at Ljonas Aus, —
again widening into the Ytre Samlen quite 5 miles
across.

Just above Bakke, there is a great stretch of bare
polished rock, which slopes from a height down to the
water's edge. There is not a blade of grass or a shrub
to be seen on it, the whole has a very bleak and
forbidding air. Its smooth surface is due to the great
glaciers of the Ice Age, when the whole fj ord was choked
with slowly-moving pack ice. Beyond these bare black
rocks, Samle Nut, a jutting peak, covered with a forest
of fir trees from crest to base, pushes out, narrowing the
waterway again to 2 miles, and separating the Ytre from
the Indne Samlen.

On the opposite side is the hamlet of Ostensci, where
a great rock (Heaven only knows how many tons it
weighs) seems to have toppled over from the mountains
overhead, and has perched itself right in the middle
of a neat little hayfield. I daresay it all happened
a long time ago, long before there were any people
settled here ; at the same time, the great stone looks
a very terrible intruder, in the midst of the fragile
wooden houses set among the smiling fields.

Just a little farther is the narrow entrance of
the Fikensensand, 9 miles long, just a rent in the
mountains. As we steam over to the north-east we
come to where Melaanfos thunders down from the hills in
a cloud of spray, making the village at the water's edge

64 THE BARONS OF ROSENDAL

seem only a toy. The dark firs stretch up even to
the clouds, and here and there patches of snow shine
white among grey rocks.

Norway was not always a democratic country. There
were plenty of earls in the old Viking days, and our
English title " earl "" is taken from the Norse. Later, the
great English preacher Hakluyt, in his navigations,
voyages, traffiques, and discoveries, often mentions knights
in Norway, though it would be hard to say what the
native equivalent for this title would be. Here in
Hardanger there were Barons of Rosendal, from 1678
down to 1821, when all noble titles were abolished by
law.

Ludwig the First was a Dane of old family who came
and settled in Horland, where he married a rich Norwegian
lady ; after which Christian v. of Denmark created
him baron. He held many high offices. A list of them
is still to be seen over his tomb in Kvindherred parish
church. Axel, who was called " Baron Clubfoot,*" suc-
ceeded him ; he is said to have had rather a poor time
with his insolent servants. He fell through a hole in the
floor of his own house, and broke his neck in 1723, so
the title became extinct. Soon after, the Crown of
Denmark sold the barony of Rosendal, with all its
privileges and charters, to another Dane, Ditten Wibe,
Knight of the Elephant, and Governor of Norway.
The price was 20,000 rix-dollars, about .£4000. When
Ditten Wibe died, Lerche of Lerchenfeld bought it for
18,000 rix-dollars. In 1745 it was again sold to Edvard
Londeman, a professor of theology, who afterwards
became Bishop of Bergen. The King of Denmark gave
him a patent for himself and his heirs, to bear the new
title of Baron de Rosen krone. He only enjoyed the
honour for a week, dying, and being succeeded by his

THE FOLGEFOND 65

son, Baron Marchus, who, however, never lived at Rosendal.
This Baron Marchus was Minister for Foreign Affairs at
Copenhagen. Major Hoff", who was a great-grandson of
the first Baron de Rosenkrone, a native of Bohemia,
came next, and after him in 1837 Marchus Gerhard, his
son. The title died with the older Hoff", and soon after
the property lost many of its rights and privileges. It
now pays rates and taxes just like any other part of
Norway.

Before reaching Odde it is the Folgefond that attracts
and holds the attention. This great field of snow is the
second largest in Norway, covering an area of 120 square
miles. As we steamed up the fjord the daylight was
waning. The steep sides of the cliffs had turned the
deepest purple, and high above lay this line of snow.
Wherever possible it forced its way over the edge. At
first a wedge of pure white, which as it came down the
cliff" turned into rills and feathery streaks of water.
What the depth is no one knows, but from the nature
of its surroundings it is beyond doubt that it fills an
enormous depression. The general direction of this vast
expanse of eternal snow is north and south. It lies in
the hollow of a broad ridge, or plateau, at a height of
5500 feet above the sea. The mountains on which it
rests rise abruptly from the sea, presenting a large area
above the snow-line. These receive the full benefit of
the moisture of the south-westerly winds in the shape of
snow. There are no higher mountains anywhere near,
and consequently the Folgefondfjeld intercepts the snow-
laden winds, and prevents an accumulation on the fjelds
situated to the eastward.

At the moment all our interests were centred in the
Folgefond, on account of a wild freak that had entered
the head of an elderly spinster we had met on board
5

66 CROSSING THE FOLGEFOND

a little fjord steamer. The lady Avas unaccompanied,
and gloated over the fact that she had given her friend
and the hotel-keeper the slip, saying, " I knew they
would not let me go if I said anything about it, but now
I am here I mean to cross the Folgefond." All the way
to Sandven we hunted our Baedeker, and found out for
this lady that the price for a guide for two persons
would be 8 kroner. No price was quoted for one. That
the pass was not too difficult, and that riding was
practicable to the top. At this she ejaculated, " Ah,
that will suit me. I can ride splendidly ; have done so
all my life. What did you say the cost of the horse
would be ? " I again opened my Baedeker and read out
12 kr. ; that she would have to start from Sundal on the
Mauranger Fjord; that there was an hotel there where
she would have to stay the night, as it was impossible
to make the start that day ; the hotel stood near to the
gaard of Bondhus, and that Samson Olsen, Sundal, was
a competent guide.

Then I told her all I knew and had read. That, to
begin with, it was a beautiful voyage to Odde, and that
the scenery as the Mauranger is approached displays the
most picturesque grouping of high mountains. She
would have to leave at 6 a.m., and it would take her
seven or eight hours to arrive at Sundal, where she would
be in time for dinner. " I should not want to dine,''
she remarked ; " I have some sandwiches." " I dare say,"" I
said, " but would they not be rather dry by then, or would
it not be better to keep these provisions for the Folgefond,
as not so long ago the supplies provided by the hotel-
keeper were not very good ? " This trifle was waved aside,
and I continued : " Well, you would have to start early
with a short trip by boat to the head of the fjord, land
at Gjerde, a cluster of cottages. Once clear of the

SONDEFOS 67

village your road lies through fields traversed by a roar-
ing torrent, which farther on breaks over the rocks in
fine cascades. Then through a wood, and you emerge
in full view of the really magnificent Sondefos, tumbling
from a great height, and throwing up clouds of spray,
through which you will have to pass. Then you will find
yourself in a tremendous amphitheatre, the walls rising
in front and on either side to a height of some two or
three thousand feet. You will wish you had never
started, but your guide will show you the way over a
rough but not difficult road. I suppose you can climb ?
— for the ascent is very steep, and you will have to rest
constantly. All the way you see the waterfall, which
looks finer and grander as you ascend. You next reach
more level ground, and look down upon the dark gorge
you have just passed through to the spot where the
Mauranger Fjord lies gleaming in the distance.

"Again another tier of precipices, with a faintly indicated
and easily lost track along the mountain side under a
screen of rock, which rounded brings you to the head
of the waterfall, — the Sondefos by which you have been
walking and climbing. At your feet the waters that
supply it rush and roar, from a lake at a little distance,
which receives the waters of another and smaller fall.
This raging torrent crosses your path, and I really do
not think you will like it. There are only a few slippery
rocks to the middle of the stream, and then a little plank
bridge to the other side, a narrow little foothold between
the wall of rock and roaring stream. Everyone says it
is the nastiest bit in the day's march.

" You would then have to wait a few minutes whilst
your guide finds the boat to cross the lake. The desolate
valley is strewn with huge boulders, where, in a sheltered
corner, stands the Tourist Hut. You might have to

68 HORSES MANAGE THE CLIMB

stay there the night should you be too tired to go on.
There remain a good thousand feet still to climb on a
steep and rugged road. Creeping up these bare rocks is
like mounting the steps of a ladder, with an occasional
plateau as a change.

" Horses manage this piece of the road wonderfully well.
The sturdy little animals scramble up the steep slippery
rocks without a stumble. About this height you reach
the snow -line, and have to cross several broad patches,
which may be very heavy work, according to whether the
sun is shining or not. After a while the great snow-
field begins in real earnest. It has a hard frozen surface,
with here and there a slippery piece telling of the glacier
just beneath. You walk or ride on till you reach the
half-dozen sledges, kept under the shelter of a cluster of
rocks which rise like islands in the midst of the great sea
of ice and snow. The horses are harnessed, and can pull
but slowly till they reach the highest point. If the
weather is only fine and clear you think nothing more of
the climb. You revel in the grand and awe-inspiring
spaciousness, in the peculiar, solemn silence, which holds
the air when the winds are at rest.

"Around the margin of this great white ocean rises a
border of dark, rugged mountain tops of every shape and
outline. You can see nothing of the fjords. They lie
quietly sleeping at your feet, deep down in the bottom of
the dark valleys. To the south lies the Sor branch of the
Hardanger, and straight across this invisible gulf you can
see the dark ravine of the Skjaeggedal, with a glimpse of
the gloomy Kingedalsvand beyond. Above the ravine
rises the curious square top of the Haarteigen, and away
and away the giant peaks of the Hardanger. Having
admired the prospect, the horses again start off at a
gallop. If you have ever experienced the pleasure of

ODDE, THE END OF THE SOR FJORD 69

running before a strong wind in a small boat, you will
recognise the same sensation as you spin along over the
crisp snow, with a rapidity and smoothness which constitute
the acme of locomotion. The wind sings in your ears and
the horses' hoofs pelt you with little lumps of snow.
This lasts, with ups and downs, for an hour and a half.

" Down you slip, stumble and run, till you are off the
snow and among the rocks again, some hundred feet
below the summit of the Folgefond. Now you come to a
monotonous bit of hard Avork, and if the sun is out a most
fatiguing one. In a short time you catch sight of Sor
Fjord, and the road then follows the course of the
Tokheimsfos. From its head to the fjord level is
strikingly picturesque. At Tokheim you can enjoy a
rest, or proceed to Odde, which is about two miles off."

Nothing I might say, however, deterred the lady, until
in my room in the hotel at Sandven she started counting
her money. " I have just 25 kr.," she remarked. " Then
you cannot do it," I replied ; — " even if you joined a party
at Sundal it would cost you 15 kr. Besides, there is your
fare from here to Sundal, meals, and a nighfs lodgings.
My advice is, take the next steamer back to Eide, fetch
more money, and tell the hotel-keeper where you are
going." The lady replied : " I will fetch the money, but
will not tell them where I am going." It was with a
sense of relief that we saw her off on board the next
steamer bound for Eide. Weeks after we had arrived
home I received a post-card with these few laconic words :
" I never got there."

The approach to Odde was very beautiful in the soft
twilight. Here we had reached the end of the Sor Fjord,
and the terminus of the great routes from Telemarken
and Stavanger Fjord. Lights Avere twinkling in the big
Hardanger Hotel that stands on the left-hand side of the

70 WATERFALLS IN THE ENVIRONS OF ODDE

^ord, with the church, and a group of lesser hotels, backed
by orchards and trees. Odde is a place for waterfalls ;
you come to them one after the other if you follow the
Telemarken road. It is possible to ride or walk, but if
one is strong enough nothing is better than a good walk
after the lazy luxury of board-ship. We followed the
road past the landing place of the Jordal steam -boat,
under menacing rocks, and over debris, enjoying the
brisk air and the lovely background of the Jordal,
Burbrae, and Folgefond. Farther on we came to the
Kjondalsfos and the Strandsfos, descending from the
Svarteunt on the other side. Here we sat down for a
little to enjoy the roar of the falls, and ate the sandwiches
we had brought with us. Then on we went to Hildal,
where tumbled the Hildalsfos. Passing on to the bridge
we had to draw to one side to allow a herd of goats to
pass. We had to walk some way beyond Gronsdol before
we came to the wonderful fall called Lotefos, which unites
its waters with the Skarsfos. Opposite them is the
diaphanous veil-like Espelandsfos, one of the most
beautiful waterfalls in Norway.

No wonder Odde is popular. It deserves to be, as it
has all that makes a holiday enjoyable. Good housing
and splendid walks, and the pass of the Folgefond for
the more adventurous, and the difficult and sometimes
fatiguing journey to the Skjaeggedal. A few nice shops
adorn the village. Nowhere have I met such trusting
shopkeepers. One informed me that he would send some
embroideries that I lingered over to my address in England.
" You can send me a cheque from thei-e," he said. " Have
you never been taken in ? " I asked. " No," was his answer ;
" and I suppose I will go on trusting in the English till I
am." Good man ! May it be a long time before he
meets with the rogue.

UTNE 71

The much-talked-of Sunday costumes we did not see.
The long dining-hall of the Hardanger Hotel was bright
in the extreme. The maids in their pretty costumes
waited on the company deftly and well; for these the
bright ornamentally carved wood- work and painted frieze
of goblins formed quite the right setting.

If the weather be fine one should certainly go to Utne.
It is situated at the commencement of the Sor Fjord,
which is one of the terminal branches of the Hardanger.
Here is a wonderful combination of savage grandeur
and striking beauty. Lofty mountains slope steeply down
to the water, thrusting forward sharp promontories.
In between are sheltered bays with verdant banks of
gently sloping, cultivated land. Comfortable, clean-
looking farms are dotted here and there. A fair-haired
farmer told us many things about the beauty of the
view seen from the top of Hanekanob, at whose feet lie
the Utne Fjord, Eid, and Sor Fjords, and of the game
that can be shot in the neighbourhood. He spoke of
the chances of a good crop this season, and of his friends
in America. He stood a characteristic figure, the true
type of the Scandinavian.

Utne was famous in Saga times as the Thingstead, or
place of assembly of the ancient parliament. It was then
probably of more importance than now. The government
of Norway by Things, a thousand years or so ago, was
rather remarkable for these times. It was perhaps as
well organised a system of local government as was then
in existence anywhere in Europe. There were several
kinds of Things, ranging in importance, and in their
powers. According to the Sagas, there were four principal
Things responsible for the government of Norway, —
namely, the Borsarthing in the south, Eidesvoldthing in
the centre, Frostathing in the north (Trondhjem), and the

72 THE THING

Gulathing in the west (Hardanger Fjord and Sogne Fjord).
Besides these, and more or less in co-operation with and
subservient to them, there were numerous minor or local
Things, which were courts of assize for small districts.

Konungsthing was a Thing summoned by the King
himself. Maundrapsthing, a Thing summoned in con-
sequence of a murder ; Mauntalsthing, for the equalisa-
tion of the tax ; and Vapnathing, to examine if every
man possessed the weapons prescribed by law. All
members of the Thing, according to law, had an equal
vote.

The Thing summons in case of murder was an arrow
that was sent from farm to farm, and called upon all
Thing men to meet the fifth day after the summons. In
the funny old regulations this summons was " to be carried,
and not dropped." It was to go " between the winter
houses, and not between the soeters." No delay was to
occur in weather fit for travelling except at night, " should
sleep be necessary, but not unless." The men who carried
the arrow were to cut three notches on the door-post or
door, and put the summons over the lintel. All baendr,
but those being single-handed workers or disabled, were
obliged to attend the summons or pay a Thing-fine. The
Thing was held in an open place called Thingvoll. In
early days the site was near a temple, and after the
introduction of Christianity near a church. The spot
chosen was by a hill, from which all announcements were
made.

The Tiling plain, according to Du Chaillu, was a sacred
place, which must not be sullied by bloodshed arising
from blood-feud or any other impin-ity, and the Thing
from the time it was opened until it was dissolved was,
during pagan times, under the protection of the gods.
Any breach of the peace was a sacrilege which put the

OKSENFJELD 73

guilty one out of the pale of the law. Between the
sessions of the Thing amusements took place, and battles
and prowess was retold by the scalds assembled. Time
has made very little change in the system ; the Amt,
Fogderi, and Formanskab are merely different kinds of
Things with modern names. As matters stand to-day,
every parish has its Formanskab, or board of guardians,
with a chairman. A cei'tain number of parishes go to a
Fogderi, presided over by a Foged ; and a certain number
of Fogderis go to an Amt or county, — the principal
official being called the Amtmand. The responsible
officials are the Foged and his assistants, the Lendsmands ;
the latter, one to each parish, doing all the dirty work.
Once a year the Amtmand meets the representatives of
the Fogderis and of the Formanskabs in solemn assembly,
whereat the affairs of the county are discussed.

The promontory lying opposite Utne is known as the
Oksenfjeld, and from its summit there is the most superb
view imaginable. It is historically a place of some interest,
having been used in 1807 as a station whence to signal
the approach of the English fleet, which it was imagined
might descend on Norway. Even now one sees the re-
mains of the old watch-tower, and not so long ago the
pole and tar barrel which served for the warning beacon
were to be found close at hand. This system of beacon
signals was adopted in Norway as far back as the time of
Haakon i. It was calculated that within a week the news
of an enemy's approach could be transmitted by means of
beacons from one end of the kingdom to another. The
Government proclamation relating to the outbreak of
hostilities between Denmark and England in 1807, and
the orders on the subject of the Oksen beacon, are still
in existence.

The instructions to Lensmand Christen Jousen Hangsc

74 KING UTNE'S RUNIC STONE

are of considerable length, and lay down minute details
as to the methods to be adopted in the event of an
English fleet appearing in the Hardanger. Thus two
watchmen were to look out from Oksenfjeld day and
night. If any other beacon was seen alight, or any
hostile vessels observed, the tar barrel was to be at once
fired, and news of what had been seen immediately
despatched. Express boats and land conveyances were
to be kept constantly in readiness to take the news to
Bergen. The Lensmand was also instructed to arrest
all Englishmen in his district, and to take possession of
their property. As matters turned out, the beacon was
never lighted.

Overhanging the fjord, above the farm of Tjoflat on
the Oksen headland, can be seen a very remarkable
boulder, which the natives of these parts call Runahedlo
(runic stone). According to the legend, Utkjel, petty
King of Utne, once visited the spot and placed a runic
inscription on the stone which ran thus : " Turn me
round, and thou shalt see a wonderful thing ; but ill
befall thee if thou pulst me not back as thou foundst
me." Age and the elements have unfortunately ob-
literated the inscription, and now only a few strokes
are to be seen. As to how it got into its extraordinary
position, some say that " God Himself placed it there
when He created the world " ; and others, that it was
brought to the spot by the Deluge. As a matter of fact,
it is a very good example of an erratic perched block,
resulting from the great ice sheet which once covered the
land."

The Graven Fjord, the fjord down from Eide, runs
straight for some way and quite narrow, with mountains
on either side, Eide resting, so to speak, in a cul-de-sac
with a semicircle of mountains behind. As we steam

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DELIGHTFUL NORHEIMSUND 75

away, snow-capped peaks top the nearer ranges, till Eide
disappears from sight, shut out by first one bluff' and then
another. The next panorama opens out, a lovely circle
of bald peaks, snow-capped, and with long narrow strips
of snow running down their steep faces, — a spot where
four fjords meet the mouths winding away, each with
its own rock formation. Then come two wooded islands,
with an opening between, through which one seems to
enter fairyland. Wonderful peeps of blue water and
hazy distance, lovely delicate colouring, — a perfect
feast for the eyes.

The steamer stops at a little quay where the whole town
is assembled, the one event of the day being the arrival of
the steamer with the news of the world. Then on again,
sharply to the right between wooded hills with a few
stretches of sweet grass meadow running down to the
water's edge. Farms closer together, with neat houses
and fair sized patches of tilled ground, increase in
importance and size, till again the steamer stops at
Norheimsmid. This is a delightful spot that branches off
from the Graven Fjord towards the east, into a lovely
placid lake from which the hills rise gently clothed to the
top with trees.

The hotel-keeper, Mr. Sandven, receives you on the
quay, greeting all in a courtly fashion ; and the hotel
porter, who might be English if it were not for his
American accent, comes forward and takes you at once
into his charge. Nothing is too much trouble ; all is done
without officiousness, and you are introduced to one of the
most comfortable hotels in Norway.

Over and over again the words " beautiful, wondrous
Hardanger" repeat themselves. Here from the balcony
the Norheimsund stretches away, a placid, beautiful opal
lake, a looking-glass in which the heavens reflect their

;6 MUSICAL SURROUNDINGS

tender colours, the islets, the cottages, the green of the
banks, boat-houses and fairy boats. In the distance
scarred peaks thrust themselves out sharply from the
covering of snow which lies in the deep ravines and
fissures, floating mists catch the rays of sun and reflect
back the tender shades of pink. Above all, the great
snow tableland of the Folgefond, — great, smooth, round-
backed waves of pui'e thick snow stretching for miles,
shining and shimmering all aglow in the rosy evening
light. A boat pushes off" from the hotel jetty with a
lady, taking her two small children for a row before bed-
time. Her scarlet sunshade, their faces, oars, boat, and
every small detail are mirrored in the placid water.
Other merry parties put off', their laughter and prattle
rising to our level in the still air, A band of boys come
down to bathe, and warm ponies just back from a long
excursion are brought down for a swim round the
causeway.

Being quite sure that surroundings such as these must
inspire music, we went down to the hall porter and,
questioning him, found out there were two fiddlers
belonging to the place, one near at hand, a cobbler. Dis-
appointment met us at the outset. The cobbler would
willingly have played, but his fiddle was broken. The
other was a young fellow who lived some way down the
valley, " He might play perhaps." The porter wrote on a
piece of pink paper in Norwegian that we were a lady
and gentleman who much wished to hear the wedding
tunes on the Hardanger violin, and would he oblige us
by playing ? Thus armed we started on our quest with
our pink paper and careful directions, which were :
" Follow the main road along the river until you come to
a white house that stands back on the road on the left-
hand side, in its own fields close to the waterfcdl.'^

HUNT THE FIDDLER 'jy

The walk along the hard, sandy road was delightful,
the river rushing swiftly, making a great fuss as it swirled
round and over the boulders that strewed its bed. Broad
stretches of grain fields glowed an intense dark green,
the shade so difficult to paint or describe, grass with a red
glow over all. Though nearly nine o'clock, the men and
women were still hanging the cut grass on the hurdles.
It did not seem easy to find one particular white house,
there were so many little white houses ; the question was,
which was the one ? Seeing a stolid looking lady walking
ahead, we quickened our pace and, overtaking her,
presented the little piece of paper. She puzzled over,
read it, and looked up once or twice with a little grin ;
rubbed her hand softly over the top of her shawled head,
looked at us, laughed, shook her head, and went on her
way.

We felt very like Henny-penny in the story of " The
sky is falling and I'm going to tell the king." Like her, we
gaed and we gaed and we gaed, till we came to two
men by the roadside. The younger looking the more
intelligent, we gave our paper to him ; he shook his head.
Reading over the younger man's shoulder, the second
read it once, then again. His face lit up, and he pointed
to a white house lying well back from the road at the foot
of the hill.

Taking a short cut across the grass we arrived at a
farm or gaad of some size, but with no appearance of life
in it. On opening one or two doors we only looked into
storerooms, so circumnavigating the house we knocked
and knocked again, and were just leaving when we heard
the shuffling of feet, and a sleepy looking woman opened
to us. The little piece of paper she turned over and
over again. I tried to explain by taking the attitude of a
fiddler ; but it was all of no use. She thrust the paper

78 STREPHON

into my hand, and slowly but firmly shut the door in our
faces. A friendly pet lamb gamboled round, and seemed
to be the only living thing about the place.

Feeling abashed and disappointed, we slowly turned
from the door, but surely there should be some of the
inmates at work in the fields. It was worth while to try
a little longer; so following a grassy road we walked
farther afield till the sound of voices reached our ears.
Sure enough, above us were three figures, a girl in the
pretty Hardanger costume turning the hay on the
hurdles, and two men scything the grass down the slope.
The girl was like the old woman, shook her head, and
would not even look at the paper. The men were
different. The one I approached was like the figure in
Walker's picture of " The Harbour of Refuge," — a very
" Strephon " ; the other, a younger man with a broad,
jovial face. "Strephon" took the paper and read slowly,
with rising colour, a smile creeping over his face ; the
other read over his shoulder and looked up at us all
excitement, nodding his head and tapping his brother
with his finger.

I touched his arm and imitated a violin player.
Strephon nodded his head, put down his scythe, and
made a sign that he would come with us. He pointed
out that his thumb was bound up, and made us under-
stand his hands were stiff" from work. Returning to
the white house, he ushered us into a room, and made
a sign that we should sit down whilst he went to wash
his hands. The room was very tidy, a bed in the
corner, chairs, and a table in the middle, on which rested
the violin-case. All round the walls were hung with
male and female garments, apparently the " best clothes "
of the family. Nearly all the women's petticoats were
trimmed with bands of plaid round the edge of the

A DESCENDANT OF OLE HAUGEN 79

skirts, and the liem bound with velvet. On the floor under
each group of clothes were gaudily painted wooden
boxes with scrolls on which were written the owner's
name and a date.

Strephon entered with the lamb gamboling at his
heels, which had to be pushed out and shut in another
room. Then he opened the case as though it were
something sacred, unfolded a large silk handkerchief, and
carefully drew out his violin. He tuned it up, threw
his head back, and after the manner of Ole Bull placed
his violin low down against his chest, and closing his eyes
he deftly began to play, his thin nostrils dilating and
his throat swelling as the music went quicker and
quicker. Like the fiddler in Bjornson's "Bridal March,"
his tunes might have been inspired by the Trolls. Some
were weird, others tender; some that made one's feet
dance, and others so like the pipes (drone and all) that
it was difficult to realise that the instrument was a
violin. He might have been a descendant of " Ole
Haugen," who lived at the great farm of Tingvold, and
played the merriest Bridal March ever heard.

The youth stood still in the darkening room unconscious
of all save his music, without a coat or collar, in his
everyday check shirt and old turned-down straw. But
his was music pure and simple. Nothing written, but
all inspired, the tunes that had been handed down from
his father before him, and the Trolls. Very fine he looked
in the darkening room, playing with all his soul, his music
accompanied by the distant roar of the great waterfall.

He ended with a sigh, laid down the violin he had been
playing on, and brought out an old favourite on which he
played for a short time longer. Then he unlocked one
of the painted boxes and found a paper which he passed
us to read. It was a certificate, dated 18th February

8o THE HARDANGER VIOLIN

1906, from the school of music in Bergen, stating that
the holder, Sjuer Gvothus, had won the first prize and a
violin in a competition for all Norway for playing folk
music. The violin was a pretty one, inlaid thickly with
mother of pearl, and the handle finished off with a lion*'s
head in ormolu.

It would be as well to say here that the Norwegian
peasant fiddlers have never used notes ; they play entirely
" by heart " in more than one sense, and in another
respect the peasant fiddlers have anticipated the latest
stages of modern virtuosity. The players of the old
Norwegian fele, or fiddle, have three different ways of
tuning it : a — d — a} — e- ; a — c^ — a^ — c^ ; a — e^ — a^ — e
sharp 2. Nor is this all, when Richard Strauss or a Martin
Laeffler wants to give his orchestral score an ultra-modern
colouring he introduces the viola d'amore, which has,
besides the strings that are played on, an equal number
placed below them, which vibrate sympathetically and
enrich the tone. The Norwegian fele has four of these
sympathetic strings. A drone bass of two tones a fifth
apart accompanies the fele player^s melody. It is the
earliest form of the organ point, with which the great
masters from Bach to Wagner have produced some of
their grandest effects. This drone bass is a characteristic
of northern instruments, and resembles the Scotch
bagpipe.

A cordial handshake and we parted from our friend,
and retraced our steps along the road. The air had got
chilly and the night a pearly grey, as though one was
looking at the landscape through a thick gauze veil. The
wind blew the cold spray from the waterfall across the
road into our faces, but through all the various sounds
of nature over and over again rang the fiddler's tune.

Our Strephon may have been a descendant

MEDAAS— ISAK NILSON, OF BOTEREN 8i

of Medaas, who in his day was the finest musician in the
Hardanger, according to all accounts, and whose services
were much in request for weddings. It is told that on
one occasion, when he was returning from a wedding
in Kvam to his home at Graven, as he crossed the
mountains after dark he heard beautiful music issuing
from a mound, so he sat down and listened. He soon
became aware that what he heard was no ordinary music,
but that of the hill-fairies, whose powers of fiddling were
well known. He sat on until he was satisfied that several
of the airs were impressed on his memory, and from
that time his fortune was made. Not only had he
always more engagements than he could fulfil, but
fiddlers came from far and near to be instructed in
the Huldreslaater, which to this day are regai'ded as
the most beautiful airs of the Hardanger.

Isak Nilson, of Boteren, is the father of Hardanger
violins, known throughout Norway for their excellence.
Isak Nilson lived rather more than two centuries ago
on the farm of Boteren, at the head of the Fiksensund,
and he is said to have invented this popular Hardanger
musical instrument. According to the story, he got
his idea from the old schoolmaster, who used to amuse
himself by cutting bits of wood and tying strings across
them, so as to produce sounds when touched ; but it is
more than likely that some traveller, at one time or
another, showed him a violin, which he proceeded to
copy.

Sandven's Hotel is most comfortable, charmingly
situated, and far too good to stay for only a day.
Weeks could be spent there quite happily. Mr. Sandven
is not only an hotel-keeper, — he manages the bank, the
post-ofiice, a shop, and is the proprietor of carriages
and boats. A glowing morning and the stolkjaerre waiting
6

82 THE OFSTHUS FOS IN SUNLIGHT

at the door. The Ofsthus Fos was the thing to see
in sunlight, so the small boy said as he mounted into
his perch at the back of the car, and then we could
go on up the new road to Torenut. A pity it was
we were not staying longer.

The pony took a deal of talking to and coaxing ; it
did not mind going as far as the waterfall, but then
it quite made up its mind that it would rather go back-
wards than forwards, obliging our young driver to jump
down and break a stick from a tree hard by. " Not to
whip him with," he explained, " but just to let him
know it was there."" Crossing the bridge we jumped
from the car to walk up a steep incline to the small
house that guarded the path under the waterfall, paid
our toll, passed on to the wooden planks, and stood close
to the dripping rock that jutted overhead.

With a thundering roar the great volume of water
threw itself over the projection to the rocks a hundred
feet below, a bewildering stream of sparkling threaded
diamonds, in a haze of diamond dust, and little lumps
like feathery cotton wool of massed drops. On either
side against the grass on the edges the spray turned
into rainbows of the loveliest hue, and under the ton'ent,
their leaves shivering and quaking from the wind caused
by the rushing water, grew graceful ferns. Spellbound
we gazed, agreeing with the small boy that the Fos was
the thing to be seen in sunlight.

The pony M^as shown the stick, and thought better
of his first resolve to return home ; but his own way
was the only one he would follow. He would trot when he
pleased, or walk when he pleased, and as there was no
hurry, what mattered it ? The day was lovely, the river
flowed along an impetuous torrent, the sides getting
more precipitous as the road ascended. Such a road,

AN UNINTERRUPTED VIEW OF THE RIVER 83

too, clean, trim, and raked, protected all along the face
of the precipice by big blocks of stone. Higher and
higher on the inner side rose the cliff out of whose
face the road had been blasted. At first the bank
had been clothed with bushes, and lovely crimson fox-
glove, swaying gracefully in the breezes. But as the
rock became steeper the birch and firs were the only
things that could cling to its sides, with an undergrowth
of fern. A donkey passing, our pony disapproved and
backed to the edge, giving one an uninterrupted
view of the river, which now looked like a ribbon below.
Another stolkjaerre and two men, a road-maker sprinkling
and raking fine gravel ; these were all we saw on three
miles of beautifully kept expensive road. Proceeding
still higher the road grew steeper, and the river turned
into cascades, one above the other, till we reached the
top, where the water brimmed over the edge of a
beautiful calm blue lake, with cattle standing knee
deep along the edges. Lush meadow grass waved all
round, and the roof of the little saeter was just seen
above the bushes. This col proved to be a verdant
plain surrounded with snow-capped peaks.

CHAPTER VI

NATIONAL DANCES— THE BATTLE OF SVOLD

THE remoteness of Norway has not only impressed a
peculiar local colour on its native music and costume,
but has also helped to preserve its primitive character.
Old-fashioned musical instruments, dances, and tunes,
which used to be practised in other European places,
found their last refuge in the North, which preserved
them, somewhat altered by the imprint of its own
peculiar stamp. In a region like Telemarken there are
places where an old custom prescribes that the same song
must not be sung in the dance rooms more than once a
year.

In Hammerfest, the northernmost town in the world,
it is possible to chance on a dance where the music is
vocal instead of instrumental, the dancers attentive and
responsive to the words as they are sung. At weddings,
indeed, the first dances are sung to psalm tunes, and the
preacher in his vestments takes part in them. Usually,
however, the dances are too lively for vocal music, and the
fiddle is brought into play.

The most popular of the folk-dances in the mountainous
regions of Norway are the springdans, polska, and the
hailing. Of each of these there are admirable specimens
among Grieg's works, partly borrowed, partly original,
while others have been an'angedfor pianoforte by Kjerulf,
Lindemann, etc. The springdans, so called to distinguish

84

IHli BACHELOR
BV F. FAGKRI.IN

THE POLSKA 85

it from the ganger, or walking dance, is in three-four
measure, the hailing in two-four. The springdans is
characterised by a striking combination of binary and
ternary rhythms, and a progressive animation very
exciting to the hearer.

Here is a good description of the polska as seen danced
by a belated traveller who was on his way to Justedal's
glaciers, "The track followed the river, winding up
a deep narrow gorge between enormous rocky hills. Here
and there was a stony plain, the debris of a glacier over-
grown with trees ; but distant views there were none.
I had to walk hard to save daylight. At the end of
twelve long miles by pedometer I found myself at a farm,
and as I walked up I heard a fiddle. I thought that
promised fun, so walked in and asked for quarters. I
found four or five tall strapping young fellows, the best
grown men I have seen in Norway, and a girl to match,
sitting about a long table listening to the music. ... It
was dark outside, but a bright fire and a single candle
lit up the wild unkept heads nodding to the music. I
asked for old Norsk ditties, and got several. Presently
a vast supper of porridge was produced, and the fiddle
paused while I smoked my pipe.

" Supper over, the fiddle began again. Presently one of
the young giants in leather breeches sprang on the floor,
seized the giantess who made the porridge, and began
a polska. He trotted round the room, holding her hand,
while she toddled after him. Presently the girl was spun
round and round like a teetotum, showing such powerful
understanding that I marvelled ; and then she was seized
round the waist, and they both twirled together. Then
they ambled about as before, then they had another
fit of spinning till they were tired ; and then another
giant took the floor alone, and performed the hailing

86 THE HALLING DANCE

dance which no one has described so well as Bjornson in
his story entitled Ante as follows. The music began, deep
silence prevailed, and Nils got ready for the dance. Airily
he moved over the floor, marched in time with the music,
his body half bent forward and reaching to right and
left ; now and then he crossed his legs, stood up straight
again, assuming the attitude of a thrower, and then
marched as at first, bent over. The fiddle was played
with a sure hand, the melody became gradually faster and
more fiery. Nils inclined his head more and more back-
wards, and all at once he hit the cross-plank of the ceiling
with his foot, so hard that dust and whitewash fell on the
spectators. Everybody laughed and shouted, and the
girls stood as if they were breathless. Noisily the fiddler
played on and on, with more and more fiery and challeng-
ing strains. Nils could not resist them ; he bowed forward,
jumped about in measure, stood up straight, assumed the
attitude of a thrower, to fool them, then again crossed
his legs under him, and suddenly, when it seemed as if he
had no thought of jumping, he hit the plank of the
ceiling a resounding blow with his foot, again and again,
then threw somersaults in the air, forward and backward,
standing straight as a candle on his feet after each. He
had all he wanted. The fiddle played a few more bars
in rapid time, laboured with tones that became lower and
lower, until the dance music died out in a long-sustained
bass note."

Gur ship is thrashing her way westward against a
strong breeze which sends the long rollers tumbling up
the Skagevak. As we plunge through the foam the rocky
coast slips ever by, like a mighty panorama slowly
unrolling before our sight, the smoothly i-ounded rocks are
broken now and then by chasms which stretch far into
the heart of the sterile country. Detached rocks, some of

A PANACEA FOR MAL-DE-MER 87

them marked with black or white beacons, stand far out
among the waves. In the old days these winding water-
ways which pierce deep into the fastnesses of granite and
slate were the homes of many a marauding Viking, and one
can in fancy picture Sigmund pushing off in the dragon
ship that Olaf Tryggvason gave him to win westward to
the Faereys, and bring home the warlock Thrond.

"The sea waves turned like fire to see,
But Sigmund never a whit cared he.

Sigmund seaward his course will keep,

And the ship she was well-nigh sunk in the deep.

The waves they broke in the race so hard,
But Sigmund was not a whit afeard.

Sigmund up Swiney firth he stood,

The strakes they buckled like hoops of wood.

The strakes they buckled like hoops of wood,
The iron grew black as the black peat sod."

I have found that it is largely an unoccupied mind
that brings on mal-de-mer, and not wishing to succumb
at this juncture I dived into my cabin for my book of
Sagas, and making myself comfortable on the sofa of
the music room on deck I closed my mind on the
turmoil without, and turned the page to my favourite
Fornmanna Sogur, the Battle of Svold, and Olaf Tryg-
gvason, the brave hero who in the story lost his life on
his way home to Norway.

" Svein, King of Denmark, Olaf, King of Sweden, and
Eirik Jarl lay under the island with all their host. The
weather was fine and the sunshine was bright. All the
chiefs went up on the island, and many of the host with
them. When they saw that very many of the ships of

88 AWAITING OLAFS SHIP

the Northmen sailed out to sea they were very glad, for
their host grumbled at lying there so long, and some
had lost all hope of the King of Norway's coming.
Now they saw a large and splendid ship sailing, and
both the Kings said : ' This is a large and exceedingly
fine ship ; it must be the Long Serpent.'' Eirik Jarl
answered : ' This is not the Long Serpent, which must
look larger and grander, though this is a large and fine
ship.' It was as the Jarl said, Styrkar of Gimsar owned
the ship.

" Shortly after they saw another much larger ship,
which had a head on its prow. King Svein said : ' This
must be the Long Serpent ; let us now go to our ships,
and not be too slow in attack.' Eirik Jarl replied :
'This cannot be the Long Serpent, though it is finely
fitted out.' It was as he said, for it belonged to
Thorkel Nefja, King Olaf's brother ; but he was not on
board himself.

" And now they saw another large and fine ship. King
Svein said : ' There you can see the King's ship.' The
jarl replied : ' Certainly this is a large and splendid
ship, but the Serpent must be much grander,' Close
upon it came a fourth large ship. The two last were
owned by two men of Vikin, Thorgeir, and Hyrning,
the King's brothers-in-law ; but they did not steer the
ships, for they were in the Long Serpent with King
Olaf.

" A little while after appeared a fifth, much larger
than any of the preceding. King Svein said, laughing :
' Now is Olaf Tryggvason afraid, for he dares not sail
with the head on his dragon.' Eirik Jarl replied : ' This
is not the King's ship ; this one I know well, as well as
the sail which is striped : it belongs to Erling Skjalgsson,
of Jadar ; let them sail on, for I tell you truly that there

ANGER OF EIRIK JARL 89

are warriors on board whom, if we go into battle with
Olaf Tryggvason, it is better not to have, but to miss
in his fleet, than to have it manned as it is, for I think
Erling himself steers it/

" It was not long after these five large ships and all the
small ones of the fleet had sailed past them that they
recognised Sigvaldi Jarl's ships, which turned in towards
the island. They saw there three ships, and one of
these was a large head ship {i.e. a ship having a head on
the stem). Then said King Svein : ' Let us now go to
the ships, for here comes the Long" Serpent.^ Eirik Jarl
answered : ' Many large and splendid ships have they
besides the Long- Serpent, but few have yet sailed past ;
let us still wait.' Then many said : ' Now we may see
that Eirik will not fight against Olaf Tryggvason, and
dares not avenge his father; and this is such a great
shame that it will spread over all lands, if we lie here
with such a large host, and Norway's King sails with his
handful of men past us and out to sea.'

"Eirik Jarl became very angry at their words, and
asked all to go to the ships, saying : ' I expect, though
the Danes and the Swedes now question my courage
much, that both of them will be less at their ease before
the sun goes down into the sea to-night than I and my
men.' When they went down they saw four large ships
sailing, one of which was a dragon ship much ornamented
with gold. Many more said that the Jarl had spoken
the truth. Here now sails the Long- Serpent, and it is
a very fine and large ship ; no long ship is similar to it
in beauty and size in the northern lands. It is not
strange that the King is widely renowned, and is so
great as to have such things made.

" King Svein arose and said : ' High shall the Serpent
carry me to-night. Him will I steer.' Eirik Jarl added :

90 THE REAL LONG SERPENT

' Even if King Olaf Tryggvason had no larger ship than
the one we just now saw, King Svein would never win
it from him with the Dane host alone/ But these
head ships they thought to be the Long Serpent^ — the
first was the Tranan (the Crane), and the second the
Armrinn Skammi (the Short Serpent). The men crowded
to the ships and pulled down the tents, and the chiefs
arranged the host for attack, and it is said that they
threw lots who should first attack Olafs own ship, the
Long Serpent.

" Svein, King of Denmark, drew the lot to attack first,
and Olaf, King of Sweden, and Eirik Jarl last, if they
needed it ; and it was agreed between the chiefs. King
Svein, King Olaf, and Eirik Jarl, that each should become
owner of one-third of Norway if they slew King Olaf;
while he who first got up on the Serpent should own all
the booty there was on board, and each should own
the ships which he himself captured and cleared of
men.

"Eirik Jarl had a very large bardi which he used to
have on Viking expeditions ; there were beaks on the top
of both stem and stern, and below there was a thick
iron plate which covered the whole of the stem and stern
all the way down to the water.

" \^^len the chiefs had talked thus between themselves
they saw three very large ships, and following them a
fourth. They all saw a large dragon's head on the stern,
ornamented so that it seemed made of pure gold, and
it gleamed far and wide over the sea as the sun shone
on it. As they looked at the ship they wondered greatly
at its length, for the stern did not appear till long after
they had seen the prow ; then all knew and no one
gainsaid that this was the Long Serpent. At this
sight many a man grew silent, and fear and teiTor crept

SIGVALDI JARL MAN(EUVRES 91

into the breast of the host. This was not strange, for
the great ship carried death for many men. Then said
Eirik Jarl : ' This famous ship is befitting such a King
as Olaf Tryggvason, for it is true of him that he excels
other Kings as much as the Long Serpent does other
ships.'

" When Sigvaldi Jarl had let down the sails on his ships
and rowed up to the island, Thorkel Dydril on the
Tranan and other ship-steerers who went with him saw
that he turned his ship towards the islands ; they
lowered their sails and followed him. Thorkel shouted
to Sigvaldi, asking why he did not sail. The jarl
replied he would wait there for King Olaf. They let
their ships float until Thorkel Nefja arrived with the
Short Serpent and the four ships which followed him ;
they also lowered their sails, and let their ships float,
waiting for the King. The fleet of the Kings lay inside
the harbour, so that they could not see how large a host
they had ; but when King Olaf sailed towards the island
and saw that his men had lowered their sails and waited
for him, he steered towards them and asked why they
did not go on. They told him that a host of foes was
before them, and requested him to flee. The King stood
on the lypting while he heard these tidings, and said to
his men : ' Let down the sail as quickly as possible, and
some of you put out the oars to take the speed off" the
ship. I will rather fight than flee, for never yet have I
fled from battle ; my life is in God's power, but never
will I take to flight, for he is not a true King who in
fear flies from his foes.'

" It was done as the King said, and the Serpent ran in
front of the ships, and the men of the other ships
brought them ahead by pulling with their oars. Then
the entire host of the Kings towed up from under the

92 IN BATTLE ARRAY

island ; and the chiefs were very glad when they found
that King Olaf had fallen into their ambush.

" AVlien King Olaf Tryggvason and his men saw that
the sea was covered far and wide with the war-ships of
their foes, a wise and valiant man, Thorkel Dydril, his
uncle, said : ' Lord, here is an overwhelming force to fight
against ; let us hoist our sails and follow our men out to
sea. We can still do so while our foes prepare themselves
for battle, for it is not looked upon as cowardice by any
one for a man to use forethought for himself or his men."*
King Olaf replied loudly : ' Tie together the ships, and
let the men prepare for battle, and draw their swords,
for my men shall not think of flight.""

" The chiefs arranged the host for attack, and it is said
that they threw lots who should first attack Olaf's ship,
the Long Serpent. Svein drew the lot to attack first,
then Olaf and Eirik Jarl last, if it was needed.

" King Olaf signalled by horn to lay the eleven ships
together which he had there. The Long Serpent was
in the middle, with the Short Serpent on one side and
the Crane on the other, and four other ships on each side
of them. But the ship-host, though he had large ships,
was only a small detachment compared to the overwhelm-
ing host which his enemies had. He now missed his
host, as it was likely. King Olafs men now tied
together the ships as bid ; but when he saw that they
began to tie together the sterns of the Long Serpent
and the Short Serpent, he called out loudly : ' Bi'ing
forward the large ship ; I will not be the hindmost of
all my men in this host when the battle begins."

"Then Ulf the Red, the King's standard-bearer and
his stem -defender, said : ' If the Serpent shall be put
as much forward as it is larger and longer than the other
ships, the men in the bows will have a hard time of it,'

ULF REPLIES 93

The King answered : ' I had the Serpent made longer than
other ships, so that it should be put forward more boldly
in battle, and be well known in fighting and sailing,
but I did not know that I had a stem-defender who
was both red and faint-headed.' Ulf replied : ' Turn,
though. King, no more than back forward in defending
the lypting than I will in defending the stem.' The
King had a bow in his hand, and laid an arrow on the
string and aimed at Ulf. Then Ulf said : ' Do not shoot
me, lord, but rather where it is more needed, that is at
our foes, for what I win I win for thee. May be you will
think your men not over many before the evening comes.'

" The King took off the aiTow, and did not shoot.

" Very fine King Olaf must have looked as he stood on
the lypting of the Serpent^ and rose high up ; he had a
gilt shield and a gilt helmet, and was recognisable from
afar. He wore a short red silk kirtle over his coat of
mail. When he saw that the hosts of his foes began to
separate, and that the standards were raised in front of
the chiefs, he asked : ' Who is chief of that standard
which is opposite us ? ' He was told that it was King
Svein with the Danish host. The King said : ' We are
not afraid of those cowards, for no more courage is there
in the Danes than in wood goats ; never were Danes
victorious over Northmen, and they will not conquer us
to-day. But what chief follows the standards which are
to the right 'i ' He was told that it was Olaf the Swede,
with the Svia host. The King added : ' Easier and
pleasanter will the Swedes think it to sit at home and
lick their sacrifice bowls than to board the Long Serpent
to-day under your weapons, and I think we need not fear
the horse-eating Swedes ; but who OMns those large ships
to the left of the Danes .? ' 'It is,' they said, ' Eirik Jarl
Hakonsson.' King Olaf replied : ' This host is full of

94 OLAF FIGHTS MOST BOLDLY

high-born men whom they have ranged against us ;
Eirik Jarl thinks he has just cause for fighting us. It is
hkely we shall have a hard struggle with him and his men,
for they are Northmen like ourselves.'

" The Kings and the Jarl rowed at King Olaf. . . . The
horns were blown, and both sides shouted a war-cry, and
a hard battle commenced. Sigvaldi let his ships row to
and fro, and did not take part in the battle. The
battle raged fiercely, at first with arrows from cross-bows
and hand-bows, and then with spears and javelins, and
all say that King Olaf fought most manfully. . . . King
Svein's men turned their stems as thickly as they could
towards both sides of the Long Serpent, as it stood much
farther forward than the other ships of King Olaf; the
Danes also attacked the SJiort Serpent and the Crane,
and the fight was of the sharpest and the carnage great.
All the stem-defenders on the Serpent who could fought
hand-to-hand, but King Olaf himself and those aft shot
with bows and used short swords (handsox), and repeatedly
killed and wounded the Danes.

" Though King; Svein made the hardest onset on the
Northmen with sixty ships, the Danish and Swedish hosts
nevertheless were incessantly within shooting distance. King
Olaf made the bravest defence with his men, but still they
fell. King Olaf fought most boldly ; he shot chiefly with
bows and spears, but when the attack was made on the
Serpent he went forward in hand-to-hand fight, and cleft
many a man's skull with his sword.

"The attack proved difficult for the Danes, for the
stem-defenders of the Long Serpent and on the Short
Serpent and the Crane hooked anchors and grappling-
hooks on to King Svein's ships, and as they could strike
down upon the enemy with their weapons, for they had
much larger and higher-boarded ships, they cleared of

THE DOINGS OF EIRIK JARL 95

men all the Danish ships which they had laid hold of.
King Svein and all who could get away fled on board
other ships, and thereupon they withdrew, tired and
wounded, out of shooting distance. It happened as Olaf
Tryggvason guessed, that the Danes did not gain a
victory over the Northmen.

" It happened to the Swedes as to the Danes, that
the Northmen held fast their ships with grappling-hooks
and anchors, and cleared those they could reach. Their
swords dealt one fate to all Swedes whom they reached
with their blows. The Swedes became tired of keeping
up the fight where Olaf with his picked champions went
at them most fiercely. . . . Men say that the sharpest
and bloodiest fight was that of the two namesakes
before Olaf and the Swedes retreated. The Swedes had
a heavy loss of men, and also lost their largest ships.
Most of the warriors of Olaf, the Swedish King, were
wounded, and he had won no fame by this, but was
fain to escape alive. Now Olaf Tryggvason had made
both the Danes and Swedes take to flight. It all went
as he had said.

"Now must be told what Eirik Jarl did while the
Kings fought against Norway's King. The Jarl first
came alongside the farthest ship of King Olaf on one
wing with the Jarnhardi, cleared it, and cut it from the
fastenings ; he then boarded the next one, and fought
there until it was cleared. The men then began to
jump from the smaller ships on to the larger ones, but
the Jarl cut away each ship from the fastenings as it
was cleared. The Danes and Swedes drew up within
shooting distance on all sides of King Olaf's ships, but
Eirik Jarl lay continually side by side with one of them
in hand-to-hand fight ; and as the men fell on his ship
other Danes and Swedes took their places. Then the

96 DESPERATE FIGHTING

battle was both hard and sharp, and many of King Olafs
men fell.

" At last all Olafs ships had been cleared except the
Long Serpent^ which carried all the men who were able
to fight. Eirik Jarl then attacked the Serpent with five
large ships. He laid the Jdrnhm-di alongside the Serpent^
and then ensued the fiercest fight and the most terrible
hand-to-hand struggle that could be.

"Eirik Jarl was in the foreroom of his ship, where
a shieldburgh was drawn up. There was both hand-to-
hand fight and spear-throwing, and every kind of weapon
was thrown, and whatever could be seized by the hand.
Some shot with bows or with their hands, and such a
shower of weapons was poured upon the Serpent that
the men could hardly protect themselves against it.
Then spears and arrows flew thickly, for on all sides
of the Serpent lay war-ships. King Olafs men now
became so furious that they jumped upon the gunwales
in order to reach their foes with their swords and kill
them, but many did not lay their ships so close to the
Serpent as to get into hand-to-hand fight ; most of them
thought it hard to deal with Olafs champions. The
Northmen thought of nothing but continually going
forward to slay their foes, and many went straight
overboard ; for out of eagerness and daring they
forgot that they were not fighting on di'y ground,
and many sank down with their weapons between the
ships. . . .

"King Olaf Tryggvason stood on the lypting of the
Serpent, and chiefly used during the day his bow and
javelins ; and always two javelins at a time. It was
agreed by all, both friends and foes, who were present,
and those who have heard these tidings told with the
greatest truth, that they have known no man fight

COMES HYRNING WITH HIS FOLLOWERS 97

more valiantly than King Olaf Tryggvason. King Olaf
surpassed most other kings, in that he made himself so
easily known in the battle that men^ knew no example
of any king having shown himself so openly to his foes,
especially as he had to fight against such an overwhelm-
ing force. The King showed the bravery of his mind,
and the pride of his heart, so that all men might see
that he shunned no danger. The better he was seen,
and the greater lack of fear he showed in the battle,
the greater fear and terror he inspired.

"King Olaf saw that his men on the forepart of
the ship frequently raised their swords to strike, and
that the swords cut badly. He cried out, 'Why do
you raise your swords so slowly? I see they do
not bite ! ' A man replied, ' Our swords are both
dull and broken, lord.' The King then went down
from the lypting into the foreroom and unlocked the
high seat chest and took therefrom many bright and
sharp sM'ords, which he gave to his men. As he put
down his right hand they saw that blood flowed out
of the sleeve of the coat-of-mail, but no one knew where
he was wounded.

"Hard and bloody was the defence of the foreroom
men and the stem-defenders, for in both those places
the gunwale was highest and the men picked. When
the fall of men began on the Serpent^ it was first amid-
ships, mostly from wounds and exhaustion, and men
say that if these brave men could have kept up their
defence, the Serpent would never have been won.
When only a few were left on the Serpent around the
mast amidships, Eirik Jarl boarded it with fourteen
men. Then came against him the King's brother-in-law
Hyrning, with his followers, and between them ensued
a hard struggle, for Hyrning fought very boldly. It thus
7

98 THORKEL'S ADVICE

ended that Eirik Jarl retreated on the hardl ; but of
those who had followed him, some fell, and some were
wounded ; and Hjrning and Eirik Jarl became much
renowned from this fight. . . .

" Eirik Jarl took oft' the bmrU the dead and wounded,
and in their stead brought fresh and rested men, whom
he selected from among Swedes and Danes. It is also
said by some, that the Jarl had promised to let himself
be baptized if he won the Serpent ; and it is a proof
of their statement that he threw away Thor and put
up in its place a crucifix in the stem of the bardi.

" When he had prepared his men, he said to a wise
and powerful chief who was present, Thorkel the High,
brother of Sigvaldi Jarl : ' Often have I been in battles,
and never have I before found men equally brave and
so skilled in fighting as those on the Serpent, nor have
I seen a ship so hard to win. Now, as thou art one of
the wisest of men, give me the best ad\ice thou knowest
how the Serpent may be won.' Thorkel replied, ' I
cannot give thee sure advice thereon, but I can say
what seems to me best to do. Thou must take large
timbers, and let them fall from thy ship upon the
gunwale of the Sej'pent, so that it will lean over ; you
will then find it easier to board the Serpent, if its
gunwale is no higher than those of the other ships. I
can give thee no other advice, if this will not do,"* The
Jarl carried out what Thorkel had told him. . . .

" When Eirik Jarl was ready he attacked the Serpent
a second time, and all the Danish and Swedish host
again made an onset on King Olaf Tryggvason ; the
Swedes placed their prows close to the Serpent, but
the greatest part of the host was within shooting dis-
tance of the Northmen, and shot at them incessantly.
The Jarl again laid the bardi side by side with the

SUCCESS OF THORKEL'S ADVICE 99

Sei'pent, and made a very sharp onslaught with fresh
men ; neither did he spare himself in the battle, nor
those of his men who were left.

" King Olaf and his men defended themselves with
the utmost bravery and manliness, so that there was
little increase in the fall of men on the Serpent while
they were fresh ; they slew many of their foes, both
on the Jarnbardi and on other ships which lay near
the Serpent. As the fight still went against Eirik
Jarl, he hoisted large timbers on the bard'i^ which fell
on the Serpent. It is believed that the Serpent would
not have been won but for this, which had been advised
by Thorkel the High. The Serpent began to lean
over very much when the large timbers were dropped
on her gunwale, and thereupon many fell on both sides.
When the defenders of the Serpent began to thin, Eirik
boarded it and met with a warm reception.

" When King Olaf s stem-defenders saw that the
Jarl had got up on the Serpent, they went aft and
turned against him, and made a very hard resistance ;
but then so many began to fall on the Serpent, that
the gunwales were in many places deserted, and the
Jarl's men boarded them ; and all the men who were
standing up for defence withdrew aft to where the
King was. Hald()r, a poet, says that the Jarl urged on
his men.

" It is said that Thorstein Useafdt was in the fore-
room aft by the lypting, and said to the King, when
the JarFs men came thickest on board the Serpent,
' Lord, each man must now do what he can ! ' ' Why
not ? ' answered the King. Thorstein struck with his
fist one of the Jarl's men who jumped up on the
gunwale near him ; he hit his cheek so hard that he
dropped out into the sea, and at once perished. After

loo GREAT IS THE JARL'S LUCK

this Thorstein became so enraged that he took up
the sail-yard and fought with it. When the King saw
this, he said to Thorstein, 'Take thy weapons, man,
and defend thyself with them ; for weapons, and not
hands alone or timber, are meant for men to fight
with in battle."* Thorstein then took his sword, and
fought valiantly.

"There was still a most fierce fight in the foreroom,
and King Olaf shot from the lypting javelins or spears,
both hard and often. When he saw that Eirik Jarl
had come into the foreroom of the Serpent, he shot at
him with three short-handled kesjas, or short spears, but
they did not go as usual (for he never missed his aim
when shooting), and none of these kesjas hit the Jarl.
The first flew past his right side, the second his left,
and the third flew on to the forepart of the ship above
the Jarl's head. Then the King said, ' Never before
did I thus miss a man ; great is the Jarl's hamingja
(luck) ; it must be God's will that he now shall rule
in Norway, and that is not strange, for I think he has
changed the stem-dweller on the hardi. I said to-day
that he would not gain victory over us, if he had Thor
in the stem.'

"As many of the Jarl's men had got up on board
the Serpent as could be there, and his ships lay on all
sides of it, and but few remained for defence against
such a host. In a short time many of King Olafs
champions fell, though they were both strong and
valiant. There fell both the King's brothers-in-law,
Hyrning and Thorgeir, Vicar of Tiundaland, Ulf the
Red, and many other brave men, who left a famous name
behind.

" Kolbjcirn Stallari, the marshal, had defended the stem
during the day with the other stem-defenders; he had

KING OLAF DIES lor

weapons and clothing very much hke King Olaf, and he
had dressed so because he thought that if necessary, as it
now was, he might save the life of the King. When the
most valiant of the King's men in the foreroom began to
fall, Kolbjorn went up on the lypting to the King. It
was not easy to tell them apart, for Kolbjorn was a very
large and handsome man. There was then such a thick
shower of weapons in the lypting that the shields of
King Olaf and Kolbjorn were covered all over with
arrows. But when the JarPs men came up to the
lypting, it seemed to them that so much light came
over the King that they could not see through it, yet
when the light vanished they saw King Olaf nowhere." —
Olaf Tryggva^oii's Saga : Fornmanna Sogiir, ii.

university ci- california

Riverside

CHAPTER VII
BERGEN ON THE BY FJORD

BERGEN must be approached by water to be seen as
it should be, and to be appreciated as one of
the most beautiful little capitals in Europe. Norway,
when all is said, is a country of mountains. It may
have waterfalls, lakes, rivers, quaint boats, and quaint
costume, but to all and each of these there is the
mountain setting. In this case Bergen is the jewel set
in its seven mountains. Prosaic Baedeker tries to make
out that there are but four, but the citizens count
seven, and the armorial bearings of the town contain
seven hills, so this, I think, should be conclusive. The
town should know best. Anyhow, the town was much
exercised and anxious when we landed, every gaze was
turned towards Ulriken, that lies to the north-east.
Everyone possessed of a telescope, opera - glass, or
binocular was the centre of a small crowd, all looking
upwards at the mountain. We also looked, but could
see nothing but a patch of snow or white-coloured
stone. Where is it ? and, What is it ? was the question
on each one's lips. Not till we arrived at the Hotel
Metropole could we get our answer.

The stout porter spoke English fluently, and whilst
looking through our glasses told us how two young ladies
had climbed up the mountain the day before, and it
was supposed had lost their way or had climbed a spot

102

BINDING'S MONUMENT 103

too steep to climb down ; anyhow, there they were sitting
under the rock. Of course, they would be English. No
one else would do such a thing without a guide ; they
had been out all night in the pouring rain. We both
felt quite concerned, and, like everyone else, looked and
looked again at the patch. Had anyone gone to their
help ? Yes, some firemen and soldiers had made a
party, and were now climbing up to their rescue.

As nothing more could be done at the moment, we
tui'ned into the little park hard by to look at Stephen
Binding's Monument to Ole Bull. It seemed to me
imposing in its simplicity. The rough-hewn rock that
forms the pedestal, with a spring bubbling up through
it, symbolised the master's love for the wild mountains,
and the music of running water. His lithe body is well
poised on the top, as with head erect he draws his bow
across the strings of his loved violin. A pity it is that
Sinding had not Pygmalion's power to make his statue
live.

It makes one think what it can be in Bergen that
generates great men. Can it be the constant rain, that
keeps the brain soft and open to receive impressions 'i
or is it the simple life led by the Norwegians ? or the
great solitudes that are so easily reached where one could
think and dream for days and hours.? Whatever it
may be, the fact remains, that this small northern
capital of 72,600 inhabitants is the birthplace of men
who have shone like stars all over the world — in reform,
literature, music, painting, and poetry.

Ole Bull stands pre-eminent, like in face to Liszt,
but with a sharper, keener look, black brows over bright
glad eyes full of life and hope, a firm mouth and dimpled
chin ; a man who could do much and suffer much ;
a man whom it would be easy to idolise, and a word

104 01.B BULL

from whose mouth would set a soul bounding and
revive depressed and flagging energy. Ole Bull is the
idol of so great a master as Grieg. Mr. Finck tells us,
in his most interesting life of Grieg, how as a boy
" something like an electric current seemed to pass
through the lad when the world-famed violinist shook
his hand, though he could not understand his god smil-
ing and joking just like an ordinary mortal."

Ole Bull was born in Bergen thirty-three years before
Grieg. Luckily for him, his musical proclivities were
discovered and appreciated by his master, the old rector
of the Latin School, who said to him, " Take your fiddle
in eai'nest, boy, and don't waste your time here." He
folloAved this advice and became a violinist, concerning
whom no less an authority than Joachim said : " No
artist in our time has possessed his poetic fire." He
went to Germany to study his violin with the famous
Spohr, but found his style too academic to suit him.
The capricious, fantastic Paganini was more to his
taste, and him he chose for a model, if it can be said that
he chose one at all. He soon won a fame and popularity
hardly second to the great Italians, and became an
indefatigable traveller, giving concerts in the cities of
Scandinavia, Russia, Germany, France, Italy, and
America.

As one can well imagine, his love for his violin was
very great : on two or three occasions he nearly lost his
life through it. The first time in Paris, where he tried
to drown himself in the Seine on finding his treasure
had been stolen ; but he was rescued, and a wealthy
lady gave him another Guarneri.

It was in a large measure due to a fit of pique on
the part of Madame Malibran, that Ole Bull scored his
first great success. It was from Bologna that his friends

MADAME MALIBRAN t05

at home first received the news of his triumphs, and
here it was that he won the great celebrity that
followed him ever afterwards. Sara Bull, his sister,
tells us, that Madame Malibran had been engaged by
the directors of the theatre for a series of nights ; but
she had made a condition which compelled them to
give the use of the theatre without charge to De Beriot,
with whom she was to appear in two concerts. The
Marquis Lampieri, who was recognised as one of the
greatest authorities in the musical world, persuaded these
artists to appear at the same time. All was arranged
and announced when, by chance, Malibran heard that
De Beriot was to receive a smaller sum than had been
stipulated for herself. Piqued at this she feigned illness,
and De Beriot declared he was suffering from a sprained
thumb.

Ole Bull had been a fortnight in Bologna, living in
an upper room, in a poor hotel. Secluded from society,
he spent the days in writing out his concerto ; when
evening came, the wonderful tones of his violin sounded
from the open windows to the delight of the passers-by.
One evening the celebrated Colbran Rossini's first wife
was passing Casa Soldali and heard those strains. " It
must be a violin,"" she said, "but a divine one, which
will be a substitute for De Beriot and Malibran." And
she went and told Lampieri on the night of the concert.
Ole Bull, full of weariness, had retired to bed early,
when he was roused by a rap at the door. It was
Lampieri ! He asked Ole Bull to improvise for him,
and after listening for a while, cried, " Malibran may
now have her headaches ! "

He hurried Ole Bull to the theatre, where sat the
Grand Duke of Tuscany, and De Beriot with his hand
in a sling. Ole Bull was almost unnerved, but he

io6 ADELINA PATTl

chose his own composition, and the desperation which
compelled him to shut his eyes, made him play with
an abandon and charm which at once captivated his
audience. The final piece was to be a violin solo.
The director was doubtful, but Ole Bull by this time
was quite composed, and played so divinely that his
hearers wept.

Perhaps the most memorable of his concert tours was
that which he undertook in 1853 with the girl soprano,
Adelina Patti. Reports of the wonderful art of this child
had gone forth, and as one of the American critics
remarked, " Nothing short of the testimony we have seen
could make us believe such a thing possible. Yet the
whole artistic life of Ole Bull is a guarantee that nothing
but sterling merit can take part in his concerts."

Ole BulFs object in giving this particular series of
concerts was to raise funds for carrying out a patriotic
project of establishing a large Norwegian colony in
Pennsylvania. " A new Norway," to cite his own words,
" consecrated to liberty, baptized with independence, and
protected by the Union's mighty flag." But he was too
thoroughly an artist to be a good business man. After
the forests had been cleared, and eight hundred settlers
made their homes there, he found that he had been
swindled ; the title to the land he had paid for was
fraudulent, and all that remained of his earnings was
devoured by the resulting lawsuits. His disappointment
was aggravated by the attitude of his countrymen Avhen
he returned to his home. He was unjustly accused of
having speculated ruthlessly at the expense of those who
had confided in him. He also had another cause for
dissatisfaction with his neighbours.

In view of the fact that, up to that time, Norway had
depended on Danish plays, Danish actors, and Danish

DEATH OF OLE BULL 107

musicians, he, an ardent patriot, wanted to found a
national theatre in Bergen — a Norse theatre with a Norse
orchestra. Such a theatre was actually opened on
January 2, 1850 ; but when he found, a year later, that
he could no longer bear the cost, he asked the Storthing
for a yearly appropriation. This was refused, and he was
subsequently subjected to so many annoyances that after
two years the theatre passed into other hands. In I860,
however, he resumed his direction of it, appointing
Bjornstjerne Bjornson as dramatic instructor. Three
years later he tried to found a Norse Music Academy in
Christiania. " This academy," writes Jonas Lie, " was not
founded; but the seed — the thought — was at that time
planted. Since then it has grown and matured, and
to-day we have a body of artists and composers, and
quite another musical culture ready to receive it."

When Ole Bull died in 1880, his patriotic aspirations
and services were duly acknowledged. The King sent
a telegram of condolence to the widow, expressing his
personal, as well as the national, loss, and Bjornstjerne
Bjornson said, in an address delivered before thousands of
mourners : " Patriotism was the creative power in his life.
When he established the Norse theatre, assisted Norse
art, and helped the National Museum, his mighty
instrument singing for other patriotic ends ; when he
helped his counti'ymen and others wherever he found
them, it was not so much for the object, or the person,
but for the honour of Norway."

Grieg played the organ at the funeral services, and his
remarks, which followed Bjiirnson's, must also be cited.
"Because more than any other thou wast the glory of
our land ; because more than any other thou hast carried
our people with thee up towards the bright heights of
Art ; because thou wast more than any other a pioneer of

lo8 THE LAUREL WREATH

our young national music ; more, much more, than any
other, the faithful, warm-hearted conqueror of all hearts,
because thou hast planted a seed which shall spring
up in the future, and for which coming generations shall
bless thee, with the gratitude of thousands upon
thousands for all this, in the name of our Norse memorial
art, I lay this laurel wreath on thy coffin. Peace be with
thy ashes ! "

In the museum, on a glass-covered table, lies a beautiful
gold laurel wreath Avith berries of the purest pearls ;
alongside rests the violin the great master so loved. The
strings are broken, dust is the hand that won from it all
that it could give, but the music lives, and will live for
aye.

Follow the road back from the museum, downhill till
you reach the Hotel Metropole. Walk along the road
that faces it, past small houses on your left, and big
grey lodging-houses on your right. On your left you
will see the walls and trees of the graveyard, the rest is
easy. Pass through the little iron gate and you find
yourself in God's acre, so still, so green, so damp. The
smell of box pervades the air, and the music of a noisy
little bubbling stream is the only sound. Each nation
has its own style of graves, and here they are mostly
covered with cast-iron boxes, with sides some 18 inches
high. They are not pretty to look at, the rust creeps
through, and all are overshadowed by the weeping
ash. Towards the middle the ground is more open, and
the family graves are small gardens neatly kept, and evi-
dently tended by loving hands. The small rake and
water-pot testify to the care lavished upon them, and
there is a seat whereon the worker may rest or read.
The headstone is a scroll lifted on a marble cushion. In
the centre, where four water-worn paths meet, rises the

A STUDY OF HUMAN NATURE 109

small ivy-covered mound that enshrines the remains of the
great master, and on the great urn that surmounts the
whole, the two words " Ole Bull."

Till I passed the quarters by the cemetery I had
thought that Bergen had no poor, but this idea was put
to flight on passing the great grey blocks of tenements.
Broken windows, and dirty babies played in the dust,
and the ever-familiar figure predominated of a little
girl carrying a baby nearly as big as herself At the
fish-market, too, poverty was apparent. Pale-faced
children, shoeless, hatless, and ragged, waited to grab
and quarrel over any small fish or morsel that might
fall perchance on the paving-stones.

To lean for a while on the railings, that are placed
along the Vaagen Quay, where the boats all come in with
their loads of fish, is most interesting. It is one of the
shows of the town, more especially on market-days, which
are Wednesday and Saturday. The smaller boats lie
side by side, as many as can possibly squeeze together,
bow on to the wall, the larger fishing-boats lying tier
upon tier along the quays. Men, women, and children,
with every kind of bag, basket, tin-pot, newspaper, and
nets, haggle and barter for the fish. They stand on the
steps that lead down to the water, and along the
railings. It is a good spot to study human nature in all
its varieties. From the lady who leaves her carriage to
do her own marketing, to the miserably poor woman who
looks long and carefully at the small fish held up to
her in the wooden shovel, the small coin she is about
to part with held tightly in her hand. The fish was
cheap, and the variety that the boats contained very
surprising.

In the market square the tables were laid out with
some of the larger kinds of fish, of which only a portion

MO TYDSKEBRYGGEN

could be sold at a time. Alongside each one was a big
tub, with the far-famed klip fish, and round fish, soaking
in water, looking plump and full, a wonderful contrast
to the dried husks stacked like hay in the boats. The
country folk had all driven in with farm produce, and
now, before returning home, came down to the quay.
Their carts were left with the horse in the shafts, one
hoof securely fastened to the wheel. Some of the milk-
tins were brought down, the last drain of milk turned
out, and the tin (most reprehensible habit I thought)
filled with fish. But as in Norway the cows in some
places are fed on fish, the flavour in the milk might pass
unnoticed by the consumer.

The women who came to do the bargaining were ugly,
and the mere fact of haggling made them uglier still.
We never saw such a crowd ; they surged and pushed,
hands were thrust through the bars to receive the fish,
and the fishermen held up their fish-scoops for the money,
handing back change in the same way. Every time the
fisherman handled his fish he washed his hands and scoop ;
most of their hands were painful to look upon, swollen
and white.

Opposite the Tydskebryggen or German Quay, which
faces the old wooden "gaards" or houses in which the
clerks of the Hanseatic League lived, stand great square
wooden tanks on a jetty. These are kept filled with salt
water for the live fish. This jetty on market-days is
neither savoury nor clean. The fishermen stand behind
the tanks in complete suits of yellow oil-skins and sea-
boots. Most of them are fair, flaxen, or red-headed.
Standing as they do, with the mast spars and cordage
of their square-rigged ships as a background, they re-
mind one more of the Vikings than any picture, saga,
or tale that I have ever seen or heaid. Place a pair

TYDSKRBRYGGEN. BERGEN

MODERN VIKINGS iii

of wings on the fisherman's sou'wester, and he might be
Eric the red, Harald blue tooth, or Olaf Tryggvason
himself.

Personally, I would much rather buy my fish dead,
but the good wives of Bergen think otherwise. They
pass from tank to tank, watching the fish swim, and
point to the one that takes their fancy. In goes the
fisherman's spoon - shaped net, and in a moment the
fish lies flapping and splashing the water in a floating
wooden tray. If approved, sudden death overtakes
it ; a knife-slit at the back of the head, a slit across
the neck, then a piece off the tail, and the fish is
placed in the basket or pail in a very much quicker
time than it takes to write. Should the fish not be
approved, the Viking sends it back into the tank with
a splash, that covers the bystanders with water, and
turns on his heel. The men were splendid, but having
seen the tanks and their occupants once, I should never
care to see them again.

The pier on which we stand is but a stone's throw
from the fine open quay, with its long row of old timber
houses that once belonged to the all-powerful Hanseatic
League. The older houses still retain the signs of their
bygone owners, such as a cod-fish crowned, the three-
faced king, with four eyes and but three noses, a quaint
carved unicorn, the head of Medusa, and a man's head
with a fur cap, that might have come from Nishni
Novgorod. Each front is a gable covered with lovely
coloured dull red tiles from above, and when approaching
the town from the fjord, it is these fine red roofs clustered
together on the peninsula, and along the water-edge of the
Vaagen, that give the touch of warmth and colour so
valuable to this town which is more or less in tears the
whole year through. Unfortunately, the inhabitants do not

112 DEFRAUDED JEPSAB

recognise the value of the red roofs. The newer buildings
are being covered with cold-coloured slates, and the walls
stuccoed. Soon these old wooden " gaards,"" in which the
merchants of Bremen and Lubeck lived and kept their
stores of dried fish, will be demolished.

One alone, known as Finnegaarden, the one nearest to
the market, has been kept as a museum by the energy
and generosity of Mr. I. W. Olsen. He not only gave
the houses, but collected all the curious old objects of
the period, with which it is furnished. The coat-of-
arms of the League was the half-eagle and the crowned
cod-fish, with a larger crown covering both. This hangs
on the walls close to the fire-boxes with flint and steel.
A beautiful brass kettle suspended over a big brass basin,
in which the manager was wont to wash, stands in the
room. Tankards and plates, weights for selling and
buying, testify to this day to the unfair dealing between
the League and its victims. Light weights for buying,
heavy weights for selling, the farce played out to the
end. Each great ledger begins " In the name of Jesu,
Amen," followed by the Christian names of the fishermen —

Jepsab
Jermisen
Joseph
Jurgen . . .

who, poor souls, were ever kept in debt by the manager,
who bought their fish cheap, and with leaded weights
in exchange for goods, sold at full value and short
measure. The League''s belief in its manager's honesty
is also exemplified by the money-box. This has three
different keys, which necessitated the presence of the
three managers before it could be opened.

A lamp held me fascinated for some time by its

THE HANSEATIC HOUSE 113

ingenuity. Imagine three black iron developing dishes
of different sizes suspended one above the other, with
a square black piece of iron at the top to prevent the
smoke from blackening the rafters. A wick was placed
in a lip at each corner of the dishes, and fed with cod-
liver oil. The whole when hanging had the appearance
of a Chinese pagoda with twelve lights. Fine old carved
chairs upholstered in painted leather, and a quaint table
with heavy ball and pillar legs, help to furnish an oak-
panelled room. In this room is the merchanfs office,
enclosed in glass Avindows, where like a spider he sat
awaiting his prey.

Each " gaard "" was presided over by a " Bygherre," and
was divided into " staver " or offices, belonging to different
owners, each owner having a clerk and one or more servants.
On the ground-floor were the warehouses, each with its
little sliding shutter close to the ground for the ingress
and egress of the cat that caught the rats. On the first
floor is the outer room leading to the manager's office,
with his dining-room and bedroom behind. On the
second floor are the rooms for the clerks and servants.
Strict rules, precautions, and fines were made to prevent
the Germans from intermaiTying with the Norwegians.
No maid was allowed to enter the men's room on pain
of death, but this was seldom if ever enforced, a fine
sufficing. In an old print hanging in one of the rooms,
this German quay is shown surrounded by walls with a
gate at either end. These gates were kept locked at
night by the authorities of Bergen, as the two thousand
Germans in residence were considered a distinct menace
to the town. The guns, too, of the Rosenkrantz Tower
were kept trained so as to enfilade the Tydskebryggen.

Mr. Richard Lodge tells us that the Hanseatic
league took its name from the word " Hansa,"" which

114 HISTORY OF THE LEAGUE

at first signified a troop, or military muster. From
this came the general sense of union, and, in the Middle
Ages, a union for mercantile purposes. Later, the word
came to have another meaning, that of a tax, paid by
traders for the right of forming such a union.

Germans were always great at business, and in very
old days the traders of some of the northern towns —
Cologne, Dortmund, Bremen, and Hamburg — joined
together in a guild. They had mercantile settlements
in Wisby, London, Novgorod, Bergen, and Bruges. Even
so far back as the reign of Saxon Edgar, we find the
Germans prominent in London trade and joining in a
league. In 1260 a charter of Henry iit. gave protection
to all German merchants. Liibeck joined Hamburg in
the Hansa Alumanniae, which soon after rose to great
importance, and gradually from a league of merchants
abroad became a union of towns at home. In 1330
mention is first made of a Hanse Town ; and in 1343 Magnus
of Norway designated the League as the Hansa, thus
giving it a diplomatic position. Denmark was always
more or less opposed to German interest. In 1361,
Waldemar iii. captured Wisby, and the Hansa in the
following year took Copenhagen, for the allied towns
were quite able to make war on their own account.
Denmark fell entirely into the hands of the League, and
it was stipulated that henceforth no king should reign
in the country without the consent of the Hanse towns.
Now they appear to have reached the zenith of their
power.

Aristocratic in character, the yearly assemblies busied
themselves with all the details of foreign policy. But
there were many dissensions, for the towns lay scattered
over a large temtory extending from Russia to the low
countries, and their interests often clashed. During

DECLINE OF THE TRADE 115

the fifteenth century there was plenty of fighting, and
the Hansa held its own.

However, English and Dutch now began to rival the
trade of the League. The herrings made a change, too,
in their habits, and came now to the coasts of Holland,
instead of the fjords of Norway, where the merchants of
Germany had for long held a practical monopoly of the
fisheries. Then the discoverers of the New World, and
the road to India by the Cape, came, and the League
began to decline, for the Hanse towns were far away from
the trade routes. Gradually the more distant towns
began to fall away. The Reformation only strengthened
the hands of the lay princes, and in the reign of
Elizabeth the privileges which had been granted in
London to the Hanse merchants from the time of
Henry iii. were taken from them. The Thirty Years'
War gave yet another stroke at the power of the League,
and in 1669 the last general assembly was held. The
trade with Norway in salt cod still went on for nearly
one hundred years, but in 1764 their last store or office
was sold to a Norseman. From these comptoir the
German merchants got the name of " Kontorske."
They had forcibly excluded the traders of all other
nations ; even the Norwegians themselves were not
alloAved to participate until the time of Christopher
Valkendorf, who opposed their oppressive sway.

The nearest corner of the haven seemed to be the
wood market. The townspeople came down with carts
and hand-barrows and bargained for as much firewood
as they could load. Two upright posts painted with
divisions stood on the quay, and between these the
short lengths of birch and fir were built up to make
a sort of wall ; the price of the firewood depending
on the height of the division on the posts. There was

Ii6 THE PRIMITIVE JAGTER

no middleman, and during the slack times, when
customers were few and far between, the crews loafed
and spat.

The craft were wonderfully primitive, clinker-built
of soft wood, and of about sixty tons, each had but one
tall tapering mast, stepped right amidships, generally
scarfed and fished one-third up. The rigging was of
hemp, set up with wooden dead eyes, and worn lanyards.
There was a forlorn look about the great square sail, as
though it might be conscious of being hopelessly out of
date. There were no reef points, for nearly half the
area of the sail was made up of narrow bonnets laced
together one under the other, so that in strong winds it
was only necessary to unlace one or more bonnets to be
under snug canvas at once — a survival this from the
Middle Ages. The strange old craft had bluff',
flaring bows, with stems standing some 7 or 8 feet
above the gunwale, like those of the Maltese Dysos.
The great square transoms had windows similar to the
gun-room ports of an old three-decker, and all round the
poops soft wood timberheads stood up. The only
new-fangled object on board was the winch, for hoisting
the great square sail. This was right aft, close to the
helmsman, and when the yard was mastheaded the whole
of the greasy wire whip was wound up on the barrel
of the winch just like black cotton on a bobbin, and
when the pawls were lifted, and the band-brake
eased, the likeness to the cotton reel was still more
marked ; and aloft there were Irish pennants in pro-
fusion.

An affable stranger seeing our interest in the timber
jagter began to explain their characteristics. "These
ships very national. Very old : ever since the time of
ancient Vikings. Very good with wind behind; but

QUEER SEAMANSHIP 117

with head-wind no good. How many ? Three men
dey work em from the Nordfjord, sometimes three
days, sometimes three weeks. No hurry .? yes, but dey
want to get home to cut hay, these men farmers. No ;
dey never carry cod-fish, always timber. Fine trees up
dare, quite as good as American pitch pine. Steamers 't
No ; but some has petrol engines."

I once watched one of these beating to windward ;
and as the skipper put his helm hard down, the sail
falling aback, not only stopped the old craft dead, but
pushed her back stern first, and the helm had to be
reversed before she would fall off. At last, when nearly
round on the other tack, the crew swung the yard, but
just at that moment the wind unfortunately came round
too, and away went the poor old ship stern first, and
again the yard had to be braced on the old tack.
Fancy beating up a narrow channel with fluky winds
striking off from the lofty cliffs, in an antiquated old
packet, rigged for all the world like the galley of
Ulysses or the ships that brought Solomon his gold
from Tarshish. Straightway we are carried back two
hundred and fifty years into the reign of the merry
monarch, and of King Frederick iii. — the days of the
Hanseatic League, with all its oppressive monopolies and
extortions.

The jagter piled high with their great stacks of dried
stock-fish, and the wooden, barn-like storehouses where
the evil-smelling cargoes are piled, are but modern
representations of the great trade which has gone on
steadily and, as far as outward appearance is concerned,
without change for almost a thousand years. For the
greater part of this long time the German merchants
kept everything in their own hands.

Very interesting was a drawing of Van de Velde's

Il8 OLD-TIME BATTLES

that we came across in the museum, depicting a battle
that was fought in 1665, when the EngHsh fleet tried
to capture the Dutch fleet that had taken refuge in
the harbour. If one may judge from Van de Velde's
drawing of the battle, the English must have got quite
as much as they bargained for. The Dutch, both
Indiamen and men-o'-war, are represented moored stem
to stem in a line which stretches right across the mouth
of the haven, so that all their broadsides bear on the
British fleet. These are shown in the forefront of
the picture, anchored in more or less confusion, with
their topsail-yards on the caps, heading all ways at
once. A heavy fire is being kept up, not only by the
Hollanders, but by the Rosenkrantz Tower, which flies
the Danish flag, and, indeed, the whole front of the
fortress of Bergenhus is bristling with cannon, all trained
upon the intruding English. The round shot our fleet
fired back are still to be seen in the castle walls, gilded,
to make them the more conspicuous.

Besides the Van de Velde drawing, there is an English
print of the same period. Here we have a bird's-eye
view of old Bergen, and the two fleets are shown closely
engaged.

If one walks down to the end of the jetty to the
west of Faestningsbrygge, and looks up the Vaagen
towards the red-roofed town, one can in fancy picture
the old sea-fight. The castle walls still stand just
as they did in the time of Van de Velde. The rig of
the jagter has not altered in any way. We have
but to shut out one or two of the ugly new houses,
and try to believe that the clouds of steam which rise
from countless steam-winches all along the busy quay
is smoke from the guns, which still grin from the
batteries under the Tower of Rosenkrantz, Just at

DESCRIPTION BY SAMUEL PEPYS 119

this moment the cannon really begin to fire, for this
is the birthday of the little Prince Olaf. As the gi-eat
cloud of vapour rolls over us, we catch the unmistakable
savour of villainous saltpetre ; and whilst the Royal
salute lasts, one has but to twist the forms of the tramp
steamers, so that lofty poops rise, all carved and gilded,
and the derricks are changed to lateen mizzens and
spritsail masts.

Samuel Pepys, in 1665, the year of the plague, relates
in his Diary : " How my lord, having commanded Teddiman,
with twenty-two ships, of which but fifteen could get
thither, and of those fifteen but eight or nine could
come up to play, to go to Bergen ; where, after several
messages to and from the governor of the castle urging
that Teddiman ought not to come thither with more
than five ships, and desiring time to think of it, all
the while he suffering the Dutch ships to land their
guns to the best advantage, Teddiman, on the second
pretence, began to play on the Dutch ships, whereof
ten East Indiamen, and in three hours' time, the town
and castle without any provocation, playing on our
ships, they did cut all our cables, so the wind being
off the land did force us to go out and rendered our
few ships useless, without doing anything, but what
hurt, of course, our guns must have done them : we
having lost five commanders, besides Mr. Edward
Montague and Mr. Windham, Our fleet is come home,
to our great grief, with not above five weeks' dry and
six days' wet provisions."

A little farther on we come to an interview with
Lord Sandwich himself, newly up, and still in his night-
dress. " He did inform us, in the business of Bergen,
so as to let us see how the judgment of the world is
not to be depended on in things they know not ; it

I20 LUDVIG HOLBERG

being a place just wide enough and so much hardly,
for ships to go through to it, the yard-arms sticking in
the very rocks. He do not upon his best enquiry, find
reason to except against any part of the business by
Teddiman ; he having staid treating no longer than
during the night while he was fitting himself to fight,
bringing his ship abreast and not a quarter of an hour
longer, as it is said ; nor could more ships have been
brought to play, as it is thought. Nor could men be
landed, there being 10,000 men effectively always
in arms of the Danes ; nor, says he, could we expect
more from the Danes than he did, it being impossible
to set fire on the ships but it must burn the towne.
But that whereon the Dane did amisse is that he did
assist them, the Dutch all the time, while he was
treating with us when he should have been neutrall
to us both. But, however, he did demand but the
treaty of us ; which is that we should not come with
more than five ships."

In front of the Exchange stands the statue of Ludvig
Holberg, in periwig and full-skirted coat — another gi-eat
man that first saw the light in Bergen. According to
Mr. E. W. Gosse, no author who ever lived has had
so vast an influence as Holberg had over his Scandinavian
countrymen, an influence that is still at work after two
hundred years. He it was who founded Danish literature,
and who, with the exception of Voltaire, was the first
wi'iter in Europe during his own generation. He found
Denmark unprovided with books, and wrote a library
for her. Holberg filled the shelves of the citizens with
works in their own tongue, on history, law, politics,
science, philology, and philosophy. He stands another
instance of a man fighting his way to the top of his
profession, through bitter privations, illness, and starva-

HIS EARLY LIFE 121

tion. He earned what money he could by teaching,
and for some time was a poor tutor in the house of a
rural dean at Voss. Later, after taking his degree, he
w^as again obliged to earn his living teaching in the
house of Dr. Smidt, vice-bishop of Bergen, who had
travelled much. The reading of Dr. Smidt's note-
books awakened such a longing to travel in young
Holberg, that at last, in 1706, having scraped together
sixty dollars, he started, and during the next few
years visited a great portion of Europe, chiefly on
foot.

He travelled through London to Oxford, where he
studied for two years, gaining his livelihood by giving
lessons on the violin and flute. It was here that it
first occurred to him "how splendid and glorious a
thing it would be to take a place among the authors."
It was not till 1718 that his talents were recognised
by his appointment as Professor of Metaphysics at the
University of Copenhagen. In 1720 he was promoted
to the lucrative chair of public eloquence, which gave
him a seat in the Consistory, and brought his pecuniary
troubles to an end.

Holberg distinctly marks an epoch. He overthrew
the trivialities of the German stage, which he satirised
without mercy. He set an example, never surpassed,
of a series of comedies, taking his types from popular
life, and ridiculing with healthy directness those vices
and follies which were the theme of the comic drama
of the time. The marvellous rapidity with which he
wrote can be judged by the record of the plays written
by him between the years 1722 and 1724 at the time
that he took up the direction of the first Danish theatre
built in Copenhagen.

In 1747 he was made Baron of Holberg, and lived

122 HIS DEATH

on for seven years longer, dying at the age of seventy,
and was buried at Soro. Holberg''s published works are
leffion. But the best edition of his comedies is con-
sidered to be the one brought out in three volumes by
F. L. Lichtenberg in 1870.

CHAPTER VIII

BERGEN— GRIEG— MUSIC

BERGEN had shown us what it really could do in the
way of rain. All day long it had poured steadily,
and as evening drew on, it still rained. A pale yellow
river flowed in the gutters and down the roads, in the
middle of which it left deep furrows. Every two or
three hours a train would disgorge its passengers, men
and women, who emerged from the station in a long
straggling line, with dripping umbrellas of all sorts and
sizes, walked to the corner of the road, where all dispersed
each on his own business. Then silence followed, with
nothing to break it but the dripping of the trees. There
was no night, the daylight simply got greyer and more
drear for a while, and then about 11 p.m. grew lighter.
A yellow band appeared, which gradually spread, suffusing
the whole sky. The new day was born, not a weeping
day like the one just past, but a day of glorious sunshine,
that made the many roofs shine like burnished gold.
The train left at seven, passing through the pleasant
suburbs : the summer residences of the better classes.
The houses were painted white, picked out with green,
pink, or yellow ; nice enough to live in no doubt, but
with no pretensions to architectural beauty. On we went
past gardens, green fields, and patches of oats swaying in
the warm breezes ; along past small lakes, till the head of
the Nordaasvand opened out, 'allowing a fleeting glance of

l?3

124 THE NORDAASVAND

beautiful little islands, pleasant villas, and wooded slopes
beyond.

We left the train at Hop (pronounced Hope) and
wended our way up a dewy lane with high banks on
either side, the brown earth still moist from the recent
rain. Walking slowly before us, and every now and
then stopping, and leaning on his stick, to drink in
the fresh beautiful air, was the slight delicate figure of
Norway's great composer, Grieg, a figure impossible to
mistake. He was dressed in grey, his white hair hanging
beneath a soft felt hat, that he continually raised, to greet
the many respectful bows of the passing peasants. Over
his arm hung a small grey shawl, and alongside him
walked a sturdy maid. As we passed, his glance rested
on us a moment, as though trying to recognise a friend.
Diffidence, however, stepped in, and we went on our way,
till we reached a point with a lovely view high above the
shimmering vand.

Edvard Grieg has certainly chosen a beautiful spot to
rest after the heat and turmoil of the day. No sound but
Nature's own music breaks the peaceful stillness. Gently
the little wavelets gurgle, as they turn the pebbles on the
shore. The rustling of the leaves in the light wind sing
a summer song of their own. The hay lies warm and
sweet drying in the sun. Close round us is the sharp
chirp of the grasshoppers. In the far distance the
high-pitched voices of children playing in the warm
shallows of the lake are borne upwards on the breeze,
and farther still a dog's bark.

The lake stretches away into the distance, an inland
arm of the Nordaasvand. All round the banks slope
gently, thickly wooded, with birch and mountain ash to
the water's edge. Bracken clothes the rocky part of the
slopes, and crossing and recrossing the fields are the long

t%

-^^

EDVARD GRIEG 125

fences hung with the drying hay. The farmer, his wife
in her pretty red bodice and big white cap, their son and
daughter, are all as busy as bees. The farmer is mowing
the tall flower-spangled grass, his wife and daughter are
lifting and hanging the hurdles full, while the son is
carting home the dry hay.

One long arm of rock stretches away from under the
knoll, on the top of which stands the gi*eat master''s house,
in some views looking like a causeway of rock jutting
towards the farther shore ; but in others detaching itself
into small green islands. The knoll is thickly clothed
with trees, in which the house stands, half hidden, and
from the lookout on the top waves the fine new, free
flag of Norway.

The sketch was finished, and about to be placed in its
case, when we were made aware that strangers were
approaching by the barking of a little dog, who had
divided his attentions between us and the farmer, his
master. In the two figures walking slowly up the hill,
one was at once recognisable as Edvard Grieg. As he
came nearer, he put out his hand, and said, " May we be
allowed to see ? I and my friend, Mr. Beyer (who allow
me to present to you as my very dear friend and constant
companion), were taking our evening stroll and perceived
you at work."

The drawing was duly admired, and must be shown
Madame Grieg, so, closing the paint boxes, the two
masters walked ahead, whilst Mr. Beyer and I followed.
Mr. Beyer was most interesting and kind. He told me
that for over twenty years the great master had been his
best friend. Mr. Beyer had helped him to collect his
folk-songs, and how one day as he was walking along he
came upon a girl milking a cow and singing a song he
had never heard. "I out with my pencil and a bit of

126 TROLDHAUGEN

paper, and said to the girl, ' Sing on ! sing on ! "■ Whilst
she sang I wrote the notes of music on the cow's back.*"

Noticing the frail look and bent back of the master, I
asked, " Is Mr. Grieg very delicate .? " " Oh ! not so much
as he looks. He is not a strong man, but he is careful.
Oh dear ! he should have his shawl on. See, talking to
youi' husband he has forgotten himself," and he ran ahead,
and drawing the shawl from the master's arm wrapped it
round him. We had reached the pretty garden full of
flowers, Mr. Grieg opened the gate, and, as he did so, said,
" Welcome to Troldhaugen,"" and escorted us to the house,
whilst Mr. Beyer went to find Mrs. Grieg.

The room into which we were ushered was cosy, and
full of sun and colour. On the walls were various large
and small laurel wreaths hid M'ith the gay colours belong-
ing to the nations whose hearts had been touched by the
master's sweet music. In one corner stood a splendid
bust of Bjornson, with a great wreath hung round the
neck, and on the other side of the room the master's
piano. I longed to open it, and say " Play," but did not
dare presume. So we chatted, and Frau Grieg came in,
all charm and bustle, looking like a ray of sunlight let
loose. She admired the sketch, and showed us her
pictures, and insisted on tea, Avhich was served in dainty
blue cups. Just about to show us her garden, she was
called aside. Coming back, Frau Grieg begged us to
excuse her, as the doctor had arrived, to see her aged
mother, who, poor lady, had had a heavy fall.

Mr. Grieg said, " Come, let me show you my view," and
he and Mr. Beyer led us through the garden to a small
mound up which ran a narrow path. From the top one
looked down on the beautiful vand. Grieg stood quiet
for a moment gazing on the lovely panorama, a far-away
look in his kind blue eyes. Turning suddenly, he said,

"JUST A BAR, PLEASE" 127

" What can I do for you ? I should Hke to do some-
thing." I passed him my httle book. " Shall I write my
name ? " " Please do." " Anything else ? Poetry, music,
eh ! " I said, " Just a bar, please." To my delight, he
wrote a bar of the piece I so love, and passed it back.

(tt^.

yVd>^'i^-, I-, I ^

SV///,

We took hands, and said nice things while strolling back
to the gate.

One thing we had much wished had come to pass. AVe
had seen and spoken with Mr. and Mrs. Grieg. Mr,
Beyer overtook us on our way to the station, and again
shook hands, saying over and over, " So delighted to see
you." He told us how on one occasion he was in a
boat with Grieg on the lake. Grieg sitting still, his
head full of inspirations, began to scribble on pieces of
paper, which, as he filled, he laid on the seat beside him.
A little puff of wind took one of the papers to Mr. Beyer,
who was sitting on the thwart behind. He picked it up and
softly whistled the tune, which made Grieg look round
with a jump. "Where did you hear that.?" "Oh,"
said Mr. Beyer, "only a little tune that has just entered
my head," which set Grieg marvelling, that such an
interchange of thought could take place.

It is nice for us to know, that though Bergen lays claim
to this great master, we, in our turn, can claim him as
belonging in the first place to us. " Are you Scotch ? "
was one of his questions. " So am I." It was in the
troublous times after the Battle of Culloden, when every-
thing seemed lost, that many Scotchmen left their

128 GRIEG^S FOREBEARS

country, and amongst them was a meichant named
Alexander Greig of Aberdeen, who emigrated to Nor\vay,
where the climate (a wee bit saft) and general surround-
ings sufficiently resembled his beloved home. He estab-
lished himself at Bergen, and changed his name to Grieg,
so that the pronunciation should sound the same in
Norwegian. Grieg said that the names of General Greigh
and Elphinstone had been impressed on him when his
father told him that his family arms, which bore a ship,
denoted that his ancestor was in all probability the
Scotch Admiral Greigh.

" To the question, Who is the most original and
poetic of living composers ? there can to-day be but one
answer : Edvard Grieg," " Grieg is recognised far beyond
his native country as one of the few masters who have
enriched music with new means of melody and harmonic
expression, and created a national art distinguished by
poetic feeling and the charm of many moods. He has
brought it about that Norwegian moods, and Norwegian
life, have entered into every music-room of the whole
world ; " and " The north is most assuredly entitled to
a language of its own." These are the opinions of La
Mara, Georg Capellen, Bjornson, and Robert Schumann.

Grieg's great talent was inherited from his mother,
Gesine Judith Hagerup, who devoted much of her time
to music. Her skill was so gi'eat that she was able to
appear as soloist at concerts in Bergen. Grieg always
remembers the remarkable nerve and rhythmic animation
with which she played the works of her favourite, Weber.
His mother began to teach him when he was only six
years old, and succeeded beyond her fondest hopes. " Not
that it was all easy sailing at first. I had to practise
just what Avas unpleasant. . . . There was no trifling
with her if I spent the time in dreaming at the piano

THE INFLUENCE OF OLE BULL 129

instead of busying myself with the lesson set. . . . My
unpardonable tendency to dreaming was already beginning
to bring me the same difficulties which have accompanied
me long enough throughout my life. Had I not inherited
my mother's irrepressible energy, as well as her musical
capacity, I should never in any respect have succeeded in
passing from dreams to deeds."

Ole Bull it was that discovered the great gift that lay
in the lad. To quote Grieg's own words : " When he
heard I had composed music I had to go to the piano ;
all my entreaties were in vain. I cannot now understand
what Ole Bull could find at that time in my juvenile
pieces. But he was quite serious, and talked quietly to
my parents. The matter of their discussion was by no
means disagreeable to me. For suddenly Ole Bull came
to me, shook me in his own way, and said : ' You are
to go to Leipzig, and become a musician ! ' Everybody
looked at me affectionately, and I understood just one
thing — that a good fairy was stroking my cheeks, and that
I was happy."

At the Conservatory his first teacher was the renowned
Plaidy, followed by E. F. Wenzel, the gifted friend of
Schumann, and the famous Ignaz Moscheles. There were
other foreigners at the Conservatory at the same time as
Grieg, five of whom subsequently became leaders in the
musical world of London. Among these were Sir Arthur
Sullivan, Franklin Taylor, Walter Bache, Edward
Dannreuther, and lastly the fine musician John Francis
Barnett. These English boys progressed more quickly
than Grieg at the time. Grieg suddenly realised this,
and saw that he would have to submit to the drudgery
as they did, and he went from one extreme to the other.
He worked day and night, with the result that he
collapsed in the spring of 1860 with lung trouble, which
9

130 RICHARD NORDRAAK

impaired his health for life. Later he returned to the
Conservatory, and in the spring of 1860 passed his examina-
tions with credit. Grieg writes —

" I played some pianoforte pieces of my own ; they
were lame productions enough, and I still blush to-day
that they appeared in print as Opus I. ; but it is a fact
that I had an immense success, and was called for several
times." So his career began. The famous Niels W. Gade
did much to encourage him. Grieg had arrived at the
age of twenty, and was asked by Gade if he had anything
of his own composition to show. His answer was that he
had nothing of importance. " Very well, then," retorted
Gade, " go home and write a symphony." A fortnight
later he had composed and orchestrated the first movement
of a symphony, with which Gade was much pleased, and
spoke words of encouragement that fired the young man''s
ambition.

It was at Valestrand, in the beginning of 1864, that
Grieg formed an intimate friendship with the great
violinist Ole Bull. They made excursions together into
their favourite mountain regions, where Ole Bull as a child
had fancied he heard nature sing and the blue-bells ring.
The consequences were inevitable. Ole Bull, whose motto
was, " My calling is Norse music," was pleased to have
so sympathetic and talented a young companion. To hear
such a man play, to play with him, to accompany him
to the homes of the peasants and hear their music, this
was the privilege of Edward Grieg at twenty-one. Then,
too, flourished Richard Nordraak, a young Norwegian
composer of rare talent, who might have done as much as
Grieg himself had not death carried him off at the age
of twenty-four. Even in this short span of life he created
some notable works, among them pianoforte pieces, set-
ting of his cousin Bjornson's Mary Stuart in Scotland^

"JEG ELSKER DIG" 131

Siguard Slemhe and the patriotic song " Ja vi elsker."
Like Ole Bull, he was patriot to the verge of fanaticism.
By him Grieg, who loved his fatherland above everything,
had his feelings fanned to a bright flame. Up to this
point Grieg had felt the Leipzig shackles, and was some-
what timid; but Nordi'aak's courage and enthusiasm
proved contagious. He now dared to be himself, and
Norse. He wrote his four " Humeresken," Opus 6,
dedicated them to Nordraak, and the die was cast.

" Jeg elsker dig " (I love thee) is one of the most
impassioned and popular of love songs. The date of
its composition is 1864. In that year Grieg became
engaged to his cousin. Miss Nina Hagerup, love for
whom had inspired him to set to music H. C. Anderson's
heartfelt lines. During the period of the engagement
(three years) to his Danish bride, Grieg was so much
under Danish influence that Schjelderup speaks of it as
the Danish period in the development of his genius. He
was married in 1867, and was much helped by his young
wife. The year 1868-69 was a black year for them both.
Grieg's best friend and ally, Halfdan Kjerulf, died. The
latter, born in 1815, was really the first of the Norwegian
national composers. Among his compositions there are
about a hundred songs and forty piano pieces that are
mostly tinged with Norse colour. He has been referred
to as a martyr, but Grieg writes : " Kjerulf lived in
Christiania as a teacher and composer, appreciated by all."
Next year Grieg's little thirteen-months-old daughter died.
This was the only child born to them, and their cup of
bitterness seemed emptied to the dregs.

In 1868 Franz Liszt wrote to him from Rome a letter full
of praise, after perusal of his sonata (Opus 8), inviting him
cordially to spend some time at Weimar. Commendation
from so great a man as Liszt induced the Norwegian

132 FRANZ LISZT

Government to grant Grieg a sum of money which enabled
him to visit Rome and meet Liszt personally. He wrote
two letters home that are too long to reproduce here, but
which are of the greatest interest, showing how fully Liszt
appreciated his splendid talent. After Liszt had given
him a grand exhibition of his own tremendous musical
power he turned to Grieg and said jauntily : " Now let
us go on with the sonata." Grieg continues : " You
must bear in mind, in the first place, that he had never
seen or heard the sonata ; and in the second place, that
it was a sonata with a violin part, now above, now below,
independent of the pianoforte part. And what does
Liszt do ? He plays the whole thing root and branch,
violin and piano, — nay, more, for he played fuller, more
broadly. The violin got its due right in the middle of
the piano part. He was literally over the whole piano
at once, without missing a note, and how he did play.*"
Grieg left the house feeling strangely hot in his head,
but with the consciousness of having spent two of the
most interesting hours in his life.

After his return from Rome in the following year he
founded the " Musical Society " in Christiania, largely
helped by Johan Svendsen, who became his successor
when he left the capital in 1874. Johan Svendsen's co-
operation with Grieg in the sixties and seventies, and
his subsequent wide-ranging activity as conductor and
composer, have left their ineffaceable traces in the
Norwegian musical world. His works, apart from his
employment and arrangement of national airs, have not
the same strongly national character as those of
Grieg, but he possesses sense of form and the art
of instrumentation to a remarkable degree, is a born
symphonist and orchestral conductor. His symphonies,
fantasies, Norse Carnival transcriptions for string

PEER GYNT 133

orchestra, chamber music, romances, and male choruses
are all of the greatest artistic value. Grieg and Svendsen
were justly honoured and rewarded by the Norwegian
Government, who presented each with an annuity of
£HS a year for life.

Here another man, one of the wonderful group of
great men of our time, makes his entry into Grieg's
life. Henrik Ibsen, on the 23rd day of January 1874,
writes to him from Dresden a long letter, asking if
he is willing to co-operate with him, and write the
music for his Peer Gynt. Ibsen goes on to say : " The
following is what I have in view. I intend to arrange
Peer Gynt — of which a third edition is to appear soon —
for performance on the stage. Will you write the required
music? Let me tell you as briefly as possible how I
project the structure of the play."

Then follows long explanations of the greatest interest,
and he finishes this letter, that was all the world to Grieg,
with the following words —

" Such, approximately, is my plan, and I now beg you
to let me know if you are willing to undertake the
work. If you consent, I shall at once communicate with
the director of the Christiania Theatre. . . . Your
devoted friend, Henrik Ibsen "

Grieg lost no time, but got to work at Sadviken, near
Bergen, and from his pen flowed the inspired music
which, more than any of his other works, has made him
known as an original and fascinating composer.

In 1877 he again left Christiania, to which he had
returned after his first hearing of Peer Gynt, and went
to live at Lofthus. But the curiosity of the tourists
was too much for him ; they had a habit of watching

134 SOR FJORD

him from boats outside his windows, and they, the
common herd, at last drove him away in 1885 from a
spot he loved. He made his home at Hop, building
his villa Troldhaugen, where he now lives.

After leaving Hop the train dawdles along to Nestan,
where the line makes a very sharp bend, striking off north-
north-east. Up a valley called Langedal, over brawling
streams and past mountain lakes. Soon we began to
run downhill to the banks of the Arnevaag, an inky
narrow inlet. Here were a village and church for all
the world ,like a little model from a toy box. The line
now made a sharp bend to the south-east, all along
the rocky shore of the winding Sor Fjord. At the foot
of the steep hills were many little boat-houses, each
with its little slipway over the boulder-strewn shore.
There were most queer traps for catching fish moored
to buoys out in the fjord, looking like large set pieces
for fireworks lying on their backs or propositions in
Euclid. One of them would have done very well for
the pons asinorum.

On the island of Ostero across the water was the neat
white little wooden church of Hans, more like a toy
than ever, standing at the foot of the great hummocky
mountains which towered into the sky almost covered
with birch trees.

On we went, sometimes through woods, then out
along the edge of a precipice, through tunnels with now
and then a leap over a torrent, then more tunnels, and
then out upon a narrow ledge cut in the grey walls of
rock, which stretch upward, dark and gloomy, to the
clouds, where patches of snow linger in the crannies.
The fjord narrows here to little more than 500 yards.
Parts of Ostero look very desolate, and opposite Staghelle
there were only two minute white cottages, one close

BOLSTAD FJORD 135

by the water and the other high up on the shoulder
of the great hill. I wonder if the neighbours are good
friends, or if they quarrel ? There is no one else to talk
to for miles and miles. Here the line bends once
more to the right, and, leaving tidal waters, climbs up
the Dals-Elv between upright walls of stone, broken
here and there where the rocks have tumbled in con-
fusion from the misty mountain tops.

There is a bright green flat, smooth and wide, where
the farmers are cutting odd-shaped lanes and squares
in the standing grass, or piling the hay on hurdles
to dry. Then we pass a plank church, the windows
made with the glass quite flush with the weather board-
ing, and the naiTOw wooden mullions cut into grotesque
imitations of a Gothic window. After that follow more
tunnels and woods of birch, when suddenly we burst
out on the tidal waters of the Bolstad Fjord. For
a moment there is a marvellous vision of rugged crag
and wooded dell, all mirrored in the glassy surface.
Then more tunnels, some of them pierced with little
peep-holes, through which we catch tantalising glimpses
of placid waters. Out again on a little terrace cut half
way up a cliff. Lower down we see for a moment the
road blasted out of the rock, and winding along a few
feet above the water's edge. On the other bank is a
tiny farm set on a triangular patch of soil, which seems
to have slipped down bodily from the mountain, — a sort
of "Tom all alone" surrounded by lofty cliffs. Next
we catch sight of a moraine left here by the old glaciers,
now covered with farms and bright green fields.

At Evanger the cultivation spreads up the steep
mountain side just like a patchwork quilt made of many
different tints of green stuffs. On the lake the villagers
were rowing to church, all in their Sunday broadcloth,

136 THE VOSSE-ELV

And as they fly past, and drop out of sight, a great
waterfall takes then' place, tumbling headlong into a
black chasm worn in the rock, a wonderful contrast to
the clusters of harebell and meadowsweet or the peaceful
hay fields that scent the air.

Nearing Voss, the waters of the Vosse-Elv come rushing
down, a mighty torrent of boiling, seething, white and
green water, the course of the river checked by a huge
boulder in the centre. The whole volume of water
splits and tears round through two narrow channels
between the boulder and the banks. These streams meet
again, forming a cauldron of spirting, rushing, roaring,
and whirling foam. In parts the stream was very strong,
and covered with whirling eddies. In the slack water
were the first salmon ladders we had come across.

Vossevangen was just a little disappointing after the
beautiful scenery that had led up to it. Being Sunday,
all the good folk that were able had joined the train
at the various stations on the way to their favourite
churches. The married women were dressed in black
sateen skirts closely pleated round the waist, tight-fitting
bodices, and the most funereal black silk bonnets that
can be imagined. These had dangling black oats at the
top, broad black strings tied in a severe bow under the
chin, and a short black frill at the back. Their faces
looked melancholy, or shall we say devout ? They really
must have looked melancholy, as all my sympathy went
out to a group that alighted from the train at Evanger.
These walked two and two, wending their way across
the bridge which spans the Vosse-Elv to the little
church beyond.

A young woman came first, carrying a child, but so
wrapped up that by the look on her face I assumed it
to be very ill, if not dead. Older women followed with

^M''^^

VOSSVANGEN

THE CEREMONY OF "NAME FASTENING" 137

bowed heads, their hands clasped over their prayer-books.
The rear was brought up by a group of men, all in black
cloth and soft black clerical hats. Quite a mournful
note they made as they walked through the fields, bright
with crimson foxglove and lacy heads of cow parsley. I
heard later that this was a christening party. The faces
of the women might have been accounted for had the
christening been a matter of life and death, as it was a
thousand years ago when the new-born infant was laid
on the floor to await the arrival of its father.

This Viking or Spartan, on entering the room, had the
infant placed upon his knee. If he accepted the child
as his own he was wont to cover it with a fold of his
cloak. Then he looked at his child intently, to judge
of its appearance, proportions, luck, and temper, and,
satisfying himself chat the new-born offspring was well
shaped, he decided whether it should live or be exposed.
Then took place the most important and sacred ceremony
of "name fastening," or baptism, the sprinkling of
water upon the child, a holy custom that had come down
from the remotest time, being lost in the mist of ages.
A vessel filled with water was brought in, which the
father poured over the child, at the same time calling
in a loud voice, so that all men should hear him, some-
thing like the following : " Ivar shall the boy be named,
after his grandfather. He will of Odin's family the fore-
most man be called. He will fight many battles, and
be much like his mother ; he will be called his father's
son, for he will wage war from early age, and wander far
and wide."

After the ceremony the life of the infant was sacred.
His father had no longer power to expose him, or to
take his life; should he do so it would be murder. It
seems like a dispensation of providence for the poor

138 VOSS

mother that after these events, which would be most
harrowing for her, had taken place, the utmost silence
was enjoined to allow the inseparable triad or trinity —
Urd "the Past," Verdandi "the Present," and Skuld
" the Future " — to forecast the life of the infant. These
three genii shaped or foreordained the life of every
human being at its birth. Du Chaillu tells us so in
his romantic history of Ivar the Viking.

But this is a digression. I was about to mention the
lasses who walked about Voss without black bonnets
or anything else on their youthful heads. They wore
pretty red close-fitting bodices, fine white full-sleeved
shirts, lace aprons, and black skirts. A prettier dress,
or more dainty, could not be found in a long day's march.
Unfortunately, like most good things, this rural fashion
is going out, and the ugly ill-fitting blouse and skirt
taking its place. Soon the national dress will be worn
by the waiting-maids alone.

We had thought one day would be sufficient for Voss,
but somehow this drew out into three, and if time had
allowed no doubt three more days could have been well
spent. It was the perfect peace that pervaded the
place that made it so delightful. For hours we sat
amongst the tall grass, the light breeze rippling the
flowers and carrying with it the sounds of the workers
around and in the village below. Voss will ever be associated
in my mind with the voices of the women, which di'ifted
up to us like the music of a small gurgling stream. The
mountains were near, but agriculture had taken complete
possession of the plain. It lay at our feet, a perfect
kaleidoscope of an endless variety of beautiful colours
that crept up the mountain side till cultivation was no
longer possible. Where the meadows ended the pine took
up the ta,le and clothed the ridge, while beyond wag

VERDANDI, NORSE "THE PRESENT" 139

visible the dark blue of the steep sides of the snowclad
Jostedalsbrae.

Verdandi, the old Norse representative of the present,
must have been wandering. Resplendent in beauty and
freshness, butterflies always surrounded her, for she
typified immortality, and held in one of her hands the
life-thread of every human being. Her garment shone
like a silvery cloud, and from her long flowing hair
sprang rays of light more brilliant than those of the sun,
sending their radiance all over the world. With un-
bounded joy she looked into the future, and into
immortality. Hope she gave to all the children of men,
and hid from their sight the breakers ahead. And so it
was, one could but live for the day, earth's beauty
sufficing.

It must always strike the visitor to Norway how very
few really old churches, monasteries, and houses remain
as landmarks in the life of a people and country of such
historic interest. The oldest buildings now existing are
no doubt the churches that took the place of the " Hov "
or heathen temples in Scandinavia. These last appear
without exception to have been burnt to make room for
churches, on the introduction of Christianity in the tenth
and eleventh centuries. Mr. Johan Meyer, in his able
article on Norwegian architecture, says : " It is not easy
to determine which of the extremely simple churches of
rough-hewn stone belong to the early part of the eleventh
century." It was during the flourishing period which
lasted for about eighty years, Avhen the stormy times in
Norway's history had suddenly passed away, and the
stillness that ensued during the reigns of Haakon
Haakonsson, and his son Magnus Lagaboter, was likened
by one of its historians to "the stillness on a battle-
field after the battle," that a number of buildings of

140 VOSS CHURCH

importance rose under the direct supervision of this King.
Bergen was then the principal town, and several im-
portant parish churches, without aisles, were erected in
the diocese, the church of Vossevangen being one.

The church at Voss might be called " plain but honest,"
surmounted as it is with its quaint black tower. Close
by it is not even very interesting, having been so often
renewed that one is doubtful if any ancient remains are
left dating from 1271. There are some tablets to
pastors of the seventeenth and eighteenth century, a nice
candelabrum of 1733, and a Bible of considerable interest,
and older than anything else that meets the eye, dated
1589. All the same, this quaint little church takes its
place in the landscape ; and whatever it may be close by,
from the fields above its picturesqueness is undeniable.

Fletclier's Hotel was full as usual, rooms being booked
for weeks ahead. In the great salle every seat at the
tables was filled with walking, cycling, and driving
tourists. No more genial or buxom hosts could exist.
Standing behind the buffet with eagle eyes, they attended
to the wants of the community, directing and supplying
the maids in waiting, who looked so pretty and neat in
their national dress. This hotel is also one of the largest
posting stations, being on the high road to Bergen, to
Gudvangen on the Naero Fjord, and Eide on the Hardanger.
All day long the carioles and stolkjaerres come and go,
with all the bustle attending our coaches in England.

On the upper road diverging to the right from the
Bergen road, to the west of the hotel, is the farm of Fin,
and beside it the Finneloft, a fine old timber house
dating from 1300. It looks newer and far more sub-
stantial than the weather-boarded houses of the present
day, which are much wanting in the picturesque, and far
more often mar than improve the landscape. Apparently

THE OLD FINNELOFT 141

the present generation has not the fine feeling for colour
that their ancestors possessed, and that was so necessary
as a contrast and an enlivening note to the wooden
interiors.

This old Finneloft must have been built at about the
same time as the wonderful Stav churches, of which more
than twenty are still standing, the greater number in the
mountain districts and in Sogne. The nut-brown log
walls are of good proportion, the upper passage is sup-
ported on the boldly cut ends and projecting beams of
the floor, the whole running round the building forming
a protection to the lower part of the walls. The roof
juts far out over all. On the threshold stood an old
man, who volunteered in good English to fetch the key.
A splendid cicerone he made, touching each object with
a sort of homage as belonging to his forefathers. Ex-
patriated in early life through want of space from his
old home to the New World, he had just landed with
some hundred other Norwegians to revisit the home of
their youth before death overtook them.

Mr. Laing quotes some interesting instances of the
length of time that some of these bonder estates continue
in one family. Hrolf Blakar, of Blakar, in Lorn parish
" preserves a head-piece or helmet complete, with an
opening only for the eyes, and parts of a coat of mail,
a long sword, and other articles of his ancestors ; also a
writing of King Haakon Magnusson, the younger, who
lodged a night in Blakar Gaard, in the fourteenth year
of his reign, anno 1364, In many mstances the title-
deeds by which the existing bondi hold their estates
are written in a dead language, the old Norsk, or
Icelandic.

Many of the relations of Rolf Ganger, the conqueror
of Normandy, and the ancestor of our Norman line of

142 HROLF BLAKAR

Kings, are still represented by their descendants, who
are peasant proprietors in Norway and Iceland. If the
royal families of Europe, and our aristocratic families
whose ancestors " came over with the Conqueror," could
trace their lineage far enough, they would find the farms
of their ancestors among the gaards of Norway, with
nearly the same boundaries as they had a thousand years
ago. In many instances the present bonder would be
the direct descendant of the elder son of the common
ancestor, while the prince or nobleman would have
descended from a younger son. Then as now, when the
farms were too small for subdivision, the eldest son
inherited intact, while the younger went to seek their
fortunes on the seas and in distant lands. The House
of Finn might well be as old as the gaard of Hrolf
Blakar.

" Yes, sir ; I guess these are mighty old, some of these.
Look at this old carved bit of wood, some sort of calendar,
I take it, with the signs all along and the days of the
week. No ; I couldn't read it myself, but you may depend
they could, those old people. These Bibles, — why, yes,
they are old too. Look at the date. That's more than
three hundred years ago, isn't it ? The harness, yes, and
the horse collar, that comes down from the same time
too. You see, they had silver bells for weddings, and
these others were for everyday use. The sledge too,
they were fond of bright colour in those days, and they
made things strong too. They wanted them to last.
Look at these great beams, and see the way they are
fitted. A fine piece of work, I call it. What are those
holes round under the eaves ? Why, they are to shoot
through, I reckon, when the house was attacked."

From the farm of Fin our footsteps followed a path
skirting the upper end of the Vangsvand, through a long

ADIEU TO VOSS 143

vista of pine woods, at the very edge of the sandy shores
of the lake. The sun was setting, making the tall trunks
of the trees glow a deep red. The excited voices of
children were heard as they dipped in and out of the
lake. Expressions of pleasure came across the water
from a fishing party, who from the cold depths drew
up salmon trout after salmon trout. The smell of the
pine saturated the senses so that it was with difficulty
we bade adieu to Voss.

CHAPTER IX

THE SOGNE AND NAERO FJORDS

WE left Bergen on a lovely evening. There was
quite a crush of people on the quay watching
for the launch that was to bring the German Emperor
on shore. His great ship was anchored just outside the
yacht camber, and looked most imposing. It was late
when we got out to sea, but the captain's last remarks
as we shook hands before retiring to our cabin weighed
on me all night. " Mind and be up early ; we shall
be entering the Naero Fjord about four. Don't miss it ;
it is splendid." The first land I saw was the Sulen-Oer,
a group of islands — the "Salundare of the FrithjoFs
Saga." I knelt many times on my bunk during those
few hours to look through my port. Nothing but
unattractive rocks, worn smooth by the old ice and
restless ocean, rewarded me the second time. My next
peep was up a narrow arm stretching away into what
seemed infinity.

This " Sogne," from the old word narrow, bears out
its name from Sognefest to Skjalden, winding into the
country for some hundred and twelve miles, ending in a
number of long narrow arms, and is terribly deep,
4000 feet in places. Again I peep, this time at naiTow
banks fringed with luxuriant orchards, waving corn, and
pleasant dwellings. Once again I look, but only to
dress quickly ; the ship is steering into the Nacro Fiord.

144

AURLANDS FJORD 145

Looking at Baedeker, I see he marks this fjord with
two stars. I approve of his taste ; nothing could be
more splendid. The scenery of the Hardanger is gentle
in comparison, soft and pretty. The Naero Fjord is the
south-west arm of the Aurlands Fjord, and the grandest
of all the ramifications of the Sogne Fjord. At first
it is about nine hundred to a thousand yards in breadth,
but narrows to two hundred yards in places. When
we came on deck it was hardly light enough to sketch,
the fjord being in a half twilight owing to the huge
cliflFs on either side. The air was chilly and necessitated
additions of coats and rugs. Not more than five or six
of the passengers wei'e on deck ; the crowd, in the arms of
Morpheus, missing the grandeur of this wonderful piece
of scenery. In places it seemed quite impossible that
our ship would be able to turn. The height of the
great cliff made the fjord look more narrow than it
really was. As the sun rose it was a magnificent sight,
just tipping the heads of the huge walls of living rock,
leaving gloom below.

By six o'clock we had neared the head of the Qord.
Even at this early hour it was possible to trace men
walking along the road with horses and carts, collect-
ing from far and near to meet the ship, but so dwarfed
by the height above them that it was only with
the glasses that they could be distinguished as men.
The Naerodals-Elv (river) rushed out to meet us,
colouring the water a brilliant pale green. From either
side the waterfalls tipped over the precipice with a drop
so sheer that after some hundreds of yards the water
dispersed in the air. At the head of the fjord lay the
farms. The mountains enclosed the ravine in the same
way as they enclosed the fjord, leaving the hamlet
devoid of sun during the long winter months, and

JO

146 "LET GO"

during the summer surrounding it on all sides by the
sound of many waters.

As we approached the anchorage it was found that a
Hamburg-American liner, that looked most insignificant
amidst her surroundings, had taken up the berth Vedis
considered her own. Had she not in company of others
painted her sign on the great rock alongside her berth !
The first cast of the lead was forty-five fathoms, the
second forty-two. Thump ! thump ! thump ! went the
propeller as the engines reversed, and a great seething
mass of foam burst out from under the counter, and
washed slowly forward as the ship lost her way. Thump !
thump ! thump ! thump ! and the after end of the Vectis
is the centre of a perfect vortex of fierce little waves,
which breaking off in ever-widening circles dimple the
calm sm'face of the dark green fjord. "She"'s going
astern, sir," sings the leadsman. "Let go,"" says a
voice from the bridge. There is a tremendous splash,
and the chain rushes madly out through the hawsepipe
with a harsh grating roar, whilst a thick mist of iron
rust and powdered paint rises into the air, through which
the Lascars on the forecastle are dimly seen, like phantoms
tending the whirring cable as it leaps up from the depths
of the chain locker. Shackle after shackle goes plunging
down overboard, and the brown cloud covers the whole
fore part of the ship, coating everything in dust.

breakfast ! The wonder is the quantity one eats at
sea. At nine the first horn sounded for the boats.
On shore the stolkjaerres, carioles, and four-wheeled
carriages drawn by two horses stood in rows along the
little quay. It is well to say here that the chief
advantage of the cariole is its lightness. It is simply
a little car that will go through or over anything, the
body shaped rather gracefully, like a canoe. There are

CARIOLES AND STOLKJAERRES 147

two long thin shafts with two wheels at one end, and
a pony at the other. This canoe-shaped car is
placed upon the shafts, between the wheels and the
pony. One person can just sit in it. He has to
dispose of his legs as he may ; either arrange them
horizontally on the shafts or dangle them in the small
space between his seat and the pony"'s tail, or other-
wise as his ingenuity may suggest. The luggage is
placed on a flat board nailed to the shafts, over or a
little behind the wheels. The small boy who has to
take the horse back to the station usually stands or
sits upon this board, or the luggage ; these to some extent
counterpoise the weight of the traveller, and diminish
the pressure on the pony's back. The stolkjaerre is
a larger car that will seat two in front, and sometimes
two at the back. I noticed that it was quite a usual
thing for the driver to stop for a moment on the road
and pick up a companion and give him or her, as the case
might be, a lift on the step. It was not conducive to
the legitimate passenger's comfort, but it obtained, I
suppose, from long habit. The four-wheeled carriages
are quite comfortable, but the fine look-out ahead is
spoiled by the broad back of the coachman who sits
in front.

Thirty or more of these carioles, stolkjaerres, and
carriages streamed along the road, all on our way to
Stalheim. The ponies were a pleasure to sit behind,
— sturdy, well-fed little brutes, who moved along just
as they pleased, the drivers jumping down and walking
for every little hill, saving their horses as much as
possible. No whips, no horrid cries like the Italians
to goad them on ; merely a sharp prut ! when they were
to stop. These pretty little fjord horses, with their
strong short necks, neatly cut manes, knowing faces,

148 FJORD HORSES

round rump and long flowing tails, sorrel, dapple, or
dun, look for all the world as if they should be on
green wooden stands with four white wheels. These
little fellows hail from the western country. They are
rarely more than 60 inches high, and are distinguished
by a strong frame. They are hardy, gentle, and active,
and as a working horse in the fjord and mountain
districts cannot be replaced by any other breed.
The Gudbrandsdalen horse, of the eastern country,
named after the district where its systematic breeding
and raising has been carried on for a long time, is a
rather larger horse, some 63 inches high, generally
black or brown in colour. It is of the same build
as the fjord horse, has splendid legs, and is quick and
strong as a working and carriage horse. This is the
breed that is used by the farmers all over the eastern
part of the country, and in the districts round the
Trondhjem Fjord. For the best stallions up to 6000
kroner are paid, but the average for a good working
horse is 700 to 800 kroner.

We started in a long line through the valley, passed
the little hotel and a group of farms and weather-
boarded houses ; their roofing of flowering sods redeemed
them from ugliness. The river ran alongside through
a narrow band of cultivated land, which did not seem
enough to keep the people. When we saw the same spot
in the autumn, ragged, poor crops of barley were stacked
like men running across the fields in sacks, A stake
was driven into the ground about the height of a man.
The barley, tied into small sheaves, was threaded on the
stake, head downwards one above the other. This seemed
to us a most sensible means of drying the late crop, the
wind and sun being able to circulate round each stack.

A little farther on we come to another ingenious

ON THE ROAD TO STALHEIM 149

contrivance which our driver called a lopus string.
This consisted of a thick wire that led from a wooden
windlass on the ground to the top of the cliff hundreds
of feet above, where was perched a saeter. The owner
sent down his hay by hooking it in bundles to the wire,
which takes it with expedition to the valley below.
Round most saeters there is a piece of ground, fenced in
and manured, on which grows a fine nourishing grass.
This is mowed with tiny scythes, the hay hung on hurdles
to dry, and sent down in the way I have described.
This hay is carefully stored and kept to feed the cattle
during the winter months, when they return to the farm
in the valley.

The road was a fine one, neatly and well kept, though
hardly wide enough for two carts to pass. The carriages
we met had to pull up whilst our long line scraped by.
Imagine, mountain after mountain, one behind the other,
a brawling torrent running over grey boulders (a salmon
river by the bye) dividing these towering walls of rocks.
The road ran alongside the river, a pale yellow thread,
gradually winding higher and higher with rocks neatly
placed at regular intervals. In between these rocks was
a beautiful growth of wild feathery field flowers, making
a delightful edgeway to the road. Only ordinary
English flowers, harebells, cow parsley, scabious, etc.,
but none the less beautiful for that. The road grew
steeper and steeper. Our horse came to a full stop,
and we brought up alongside the other cars that stood
at ease on a level scooped out of the mountain side,
a sort of rest place close to the bridge. All jumped
down to finish the remaining steep on foot. By the
side of the way were some old people, men and women,
carefully cutting the grass with a little sickle. This
they gathered together, every blade, with a small brush

150 STALHEIMSKLEN

and pan. Nothing is wasted in Norway, not even an
ounce of soil. Ploughing loosens the earth on the hill-
sides, and the rain gradually carries it down to the fields
below, which slowly rise ; but the careful husbandman
with great trouble carries it uphill again load by
load.

This steep ends the valley. It is called the Stalheims-
klen or cliff. Up this the road zigzags, and takes nearly
an hour to reach the top. Little ones by the roadside
stood with bunches of wild flowers, offering them shyly
to us. I hope the tourist will not spoil them and turn
them into beggars. It is a little graceful act which
should always be accepted, the little one''s face when
you take her proffered bunch showing that money is
not what she is asking for. A carriage and horses can
drive up this zigzag ; but it is very hard work, the horse
having to tack all the way.

Lunch was waiting in the great wooden hotel, that has
been burnt down many times, when we arrived at
Stalheim. All was bustle as the tourists, who had come
overland from Bergen via Vossevangen, were expected.
It was rather a question if there would be sufficient room
for the whole company. The maids serving were the
same type as our blonde English women, big of frame,
fair skin, pretty yellow hair, and nice open faces. We
seemed such a crowd to be together at this lonely spot,
amongst the magnificent views of valley and fjord.
Steep bare mountains rising on every side, so immensely
grand in comparison with the noisy humans whose talk
in the great saloon hushed and overmastered the roar
of the waterfall hard by. Finishing first, we retraced
our steps well ahead of our friends, and selected a
quiet corner over the edge of the steep road to
sketch.

NAKKODAL

GREAT JARDALSNUT 151

The rain-clouds were gathering, and slowly creeping
up the valley. A grey misty veil hung over the fjord,
which lay hidden by the overlapping mountains. To
the left towered huge Jardalsnut, a mighty mass of
bare light grey syenite, made even bigger than he
really was by the overlapping mist. Nearer were the
mountains, patched with squares and odd markings of
birch, beech, and fir, from amongst which issued long
scars and rubble, the track of the ever-falling avalanches.
To the right and left of us are the Sivelfos and the
Stalheimsfos, and below looking sheer down over the
tops of the trees one can trace the river and the winding
ribbon-like road. Norway's roads are excellent. Com-
paratively speaking, no country has so many and such
good ones, but as soon as one turns off from the main
roads to get to the farmsteads on the hill they can
only be termed paths, and very often rough ones at
that.

It was raining fast when we regained our carts. The
little horses realised they would be more comfortable in
their stables, and went home at a great rate, flying down-
hill with a loose rein. There is no brake to the cart,
and at first the pace feels rather dangerous, but one soon
gets used to it. Wherever you drive it is always the
same, and one arrives in safety at the bottom.

The next day being Sunday, we arranged with our
steward to pack us some lunch, and landed early. A
fjord boat rowed us a little way down the road that
leads to Bakke, which is a delightful walk along the
margin of the fjord. The road ends at the village,
Avhere the mountains rise straight out of the water,
leaving no space even for a path. From all round boats
were slowly converging on Bakke, on their way to the
neat little church with a bold spire that rises on the

152 THE ROAD TO BAKKE

fjord side. The Bakke-Elv fussed and rushed through
the compact Httle village ; all was quiet at the sawmill,
which this noisy torrent works. It was a beautiful walk,
and one to be recommended to the man who seeks rest
for a holiday. The many waterfalls that descend from
high above finish close at hand, diving through the trees
and over the rocks, under the road and so into the fjord.
All round could be heard the gentle bleating of sheep
and goats, and their tinkling bells. The road hugs the
shore, and passes from one shady wood of birch to another.
We went on till from a point of view Bakke and its sur-
roundings were as nearly perfect as they well could be,
so we climbed up a little way out of sight of the road
and watched the peasants passing along. Seeing it as
we did then, with the hot sun overhead warming and
glorifying rocks and fjord, it gave no impression of what
it must be in the winter. Even in summer when the
sun sinks it leaves the fjord gloomy and cold, but in the
dark days this Naero Fjord must be one of the most, if
not the most gloomy spot in all Norway. Narrow
waters flanked by stately mountains can be seen in many
places, but nowhere do the heights group themselves so
impressively.

Travelling through the country, it is difficult to believe
that the few cattle one meets, wandering about the hills
and valleys, should really amount to so many, and form
such an important factor in Norwegian husbanding.
Nowhere does one come across the broad, rounded, and
muscular frames of the lowland cattle, with their huge bulk
of flesh. The cows are small, with red or brindled sides,
averaging 660 lbs in weight. They are evidently good
milk-givers, if one can be a judge of the hissing quantity
that filled the pails of the milkers, that we disturbed on
our way to the glacier at Mundal. These cows seemed

NORWEGIAN CATTLE 153

very small, but the coast cattle are smaller still, the true
weight being from 450 to 550 lbs. There is nothing
typical about them as to shape or colour, but they are
peculiar in their ability of being able to live on next to
nothing.

The Norwegian sheep are also small and slender, the
adult animal hardly weighing 90 lbs. In company with
the goats they wander about at their own sweet will.
Sitting in this quiet spot at Gudvangen, we were sur-
rounded by the tinkle of their bells and their soft baaing.
Being Sunday, the goats wanted milking, and were troubled
that the hour had passed. Jumping lightly from rock
to rock, they collected round us, each with its distinctive
marks of one, two, or three ties of scarlet wool through
the ear. They wanted to taste the paints, nibble the
edge of the sketch books, overturn the water-bottle, —
anything, in fact, to while away the time. They browsed
round, eating our discarded apple peels and sandwiches,
and ultimately sat down, with a far-off look in their eyes,
watching the winding road below, with every now and
then a pensive bleat. They caught the sound of foot-
steps first, and sprang to attention, as a bevy of girls
with pails came into view. These had white shawls over
their heads, their best black frocks hitched up showed
their scarlet under-petticoats, and all came along laughing
and chatting, with the youths following closely on their
heels. The goats hurried down, and waited in line across
the road for their mistresses. The sheep followed in a
more leisurely fashion, the whole soon disappearing down
the road in a cloud of dust. During the last few decades
the sheep have been much crossed with foreign breeds,
especially Cheviot, which gains in popularity every year
in the real sheep districts.

Clouds had risen again just as they had done the

154 A PERFECT RAINBOW

evening before, and the rain came sweeping down before
it was possible to get back to the ship. The only thing
to do was to sit under a protecting ledge of rock and
wait till it was over, though we rather doubted if we
should catch the last launch. It was worth it, though
the ground around had got very moist before we could
make a move. I never saw anything more magnificent.
Great rain-clouds came tipping over the huge mountain
that rose sheer from the fjord for 5000 feet. The
sun broke out every now and then, changing the
drops into the most glorious rainbows, with all the
colours ever seen. One hears tell of ships dressed rain-
bow fashion, but man's efforts pale in comparison with the
forces of nature, that from where we sat decked the
Vectis from her bow to the land, and again reflected
above all the intense colours in another perfect bow.

The ship was under way, and slowly steaming down
the fjord, when she again practically stopped. At the
same time she drew in to one side. Few people were on
deck, as the dressing bugle had sounded. I was just
wondering what could have happened, when the well-
known Royal Arms of England and thick gold cables
passed across our port. There was no mistaking our
own Royal Yacht. I am afraid the reception was mostly
from the^port-holes. Her Royal Highness, who was re-
turning from the crowning at Trondhjem, was on the
bridge, with the little princes, and waved in acknowledg-
ment to our greetings. I for one was glad she saw
Gudvangen on such a lovely day.

Slowly we continued our course, taking a lingering
look at the Naero Fjord and its wild surroundings.
Down Aurlands Fjord, which is nothing but an enormous
ravine, the monotonous murmur of the waterfalls alone
broke the silence. We crossed the Sogne, leaving Balholm

FJAERLANDS FJORD AND MUNDAL 155

to our left, into the wide basin leading to Fjaerlands Fjord,
at the head of which lies Mundal, with its snowy back-
ground. We brought up just as the sun was setting,
lighting up the wisps of cloud that crossed the steep
peaks, filling the hollows of the great Skeidsnipa mountain
that divides the two valleys, at the head of which the
soft though sharp outline of the virgin snow of the
Bojumsbrae on the left-hand side, and the Store Sup-
hellebrae on the right, tell against the sky. These are
two of the easiest glaciers to get at, and are both
beautiful in their way. They are the first that creep
down south from the Jostedalsbrae, which like the
Folgefond is a great plain of snow, the largest in all
Europe — a great untrodden desert of perpetual snow
and ice, covering a space of about 350 square
miles. Every valley of favourable configuration that
branches from this great reservoir of ice is filled with
a glacier, or ice torrent, replacing the water torrent
of the valleys that descend from the Dovre and other
fjelds that are not snow-covered.

At Mundal next morning all the stolkjaerres had
collected for the drive to the glaciers, which can both be
done, if one likes, in six hours. In my own mind I am
sure that these lonely spots are best visited in company.
It would be so very easy to slip on a boulder and lie with
a broken leg or twisted ankle for hours and days without
help, only visited by a curious wandering cow or goat.
The road at first skirts the bank of the fjord, and as we
drove farther on opened the head of the Bojumsdal, "or
valley," with the snows of the Jostedalsbrae as a back-
ground.

The road divides on passing a group of farms, the
one leading to the Bojumsbrae keeping straight on,
the one to the Suphelle turning to the right from the

156 BOJUMSBRAE

fork of the road, and crossing the brawling Bojum River,
Bojum is considered the grander of the two glaciers.
It is whiter and cleaner, no doubt, but it is more exciting
to watch for the avalanches that are continually falling
from the Suphelle. Neither of the glaciers can be closely
approached by the carriages, both having withdrawn
within their old limits, leaving a prodigious barren waste
of stones which, being devoid of soil, nourishes not one
blade of grass. The road ascends the right bank of the
river, past two little houses, till it reaches Bojum Saeter,
where it is possible to get food. Hence there is half
an hour's walk to the foot of the glacier, over loose
stones and a maze of streamlets. Close to, one loses
the suspended look of the great snow torrent, the foot
rises wall-like, with crevices and caves of the deepest
Prussian blue, paling towards the edges. What makes
the difference of the blue and the green lights in the
ice is difficult to say. The thick look of the water
which issues from it is accounted for by myriads of air
bubbles, but what makes its peculiar colour I should
much like to know.

I left my companion sketching, and drove off with a
friend to see the Suphelle. The driver said it could be
done before seven o'clock. His horse was fresh, and
with no carts leading the way could go much faster.
He was as good as his w^ord. The little horse trotted
well, and soon brought us to the cross-roads, where we
again discussed if it was worth going on and risking a
wet jacket, as all round the clouds were beginning to
gather. The skydsguts again assured us he could do
it easily. Questioning some of the passengers who were
on their way back, and being assured that it was well
worth seeing, we again started off at a round trot.

SUPHELLEBRAE 157

We di'ew up as we approached the Suphelle Gaard ;
our way was barred by Httle cows, who were standing
all round, and in the middle of the road, the milkmaids
filling their pails with the frothing warm milk.

The milk seemed a great quantity to deal with, though
no doubt this was one branch of the co-operative dairies
that abound in half the parishes of the country. They
number some six hundred and fifty. Most of them have
separators and up-to-date equipments. Part of the
yield, which is a big one, about two hundred and twenty
thousand gallons a day, is sold in England at high
prices. Norwegians have not yet succeeded in making a
cheese that suits the foreign taste. The girls sitting
busily at work amid the birch trees at the side of
the road, the little red-and-white or black-and-white
kine waiting their turn, or being sent off with a pat
on the back to nibble the herbage round about, made
a pretty picture. It seemed to me the bell-cow had to
bide till the last, as she was tethered and waiting patiently
for the end.

The last stolkjaerre was on its way home before we
had aiTived at the spot where it was necessary to con-
tinue the road on foot. The river came rushing towards
us with a great noise, unlike the Bojum's streamlets. It
poured forth, a full volume of the palest green water,
straight out of the bowls of the glacier, streaming from
underneath an overhanging arch of ice. At the top
the Jostedal piled its snow as though castellated against
the dull grey sky. All the time the ice was speaking,
groaning, and pattering down a steep wall of rock on
which the snow could not lodge. Eelow again the ice-
field spread, not clean and white like Bojum's, but dirty
and brown like cinders laid on a slippery road. The edge,
soiled and rough, terminated amidst a wilderness of stones.

158 ALONE AT THE FOOT OF BOJUM

I jumped at a i*eport, sharp and clear as of a gun ; on
looking up to the spot from which the noise came I saw
a great lump of ice in the act of falling and rumbling
down the steep rock. Suphelle was fascinating in its
gloom and roughness, which was intensified by the
now fast-falling rain.

It was with compunction that I again crossed the
Bojums-Elv on to the main road. The valley where I
left my companion was full of mist and rain, and the
daylight waning. I had visions of the many unpleasant
accidents that might befall a deserted traveller left at
the foot of the Bojumsbrae : and was greatly relieved
when, just as we were sitting down to dinner, in he came,
the rain hanging thick on his hair and beard.

" Has anyone been lost ? " he asked, as he slipped into
his seat at the table. " As I was walking along by
the river a farmer met me, and insisted that I was the
brother of the sister that was looking for me. ' But
you have a sister ? '' ' No,' I said, ' I have not.' ' But I
have come to look for the lost man. You are the lost
man ? ' ' No.' ' Then who is he ? ' " But there, of course,
my husband could not help him, as he knew of no lost
man.

Then he resumed : " As one by one the people picked
their way down the tumbled mass of boulders and grey
sand, and passed out of view, the silence seemed to grow.
I found one great round stone, which overhung on the
lee side, that made a sort of shelter from the shower.
Trouble was evidently brewing in the clouds that gathered
so black and threatening among the jagged peaks which
towered above me. I pulled out my sketching gear,
and began to work. How wonderfully still everything
seemed. The green milky glacier water oozed out from
among the weird ice grottoes, and was lost among the

THE HAUNT OF THE JOTNAR 159

smooth egg-shaped pebbles of pink and pale grey granite.
Now and then an ice pinnacle would subside, or a little
arch crumble into the quiet water. There was hardly
a sound, and yet the neat and furrowed surface of the
great snow-torrent which forced its way through the
narrow gorge suggested only wild turmoil and rapid
motion. It seemed impossible that these convolutions
and seams which followed each other with such rhythmic
regularity were really moving more slowly than the
hands of a watch. One can fancy with what tremendous
pressure the upper ice forces itself down to fill the space
of the melting lower edge. Pushing and crushing, the
glacier keeps up its silent struggle through the long ages.
It is only now and then that one catches a sort of faint
sound which tells of what is passing in the heart of the
thick-ribbed ice. Is it a wonder that the old Norsemen,
living their lives in solitudes such as these, should people
the waste-places with dreadful jotnar and frost spirits .?

" Soon the clouds began to blot out the narrow cleft
through which the glacier forces itself down into the
valley, and now the great cataract of ice seemed as
though falling from heaven itself. A moment later a
bitter blast came whistling among the ice pinnacles. Hail
and rain pattering fiercely blotted out everything. How
it poured ! Through the turmoil I could hear the tiny
threads of waterfalls clashing down from the rocks
above ; hundreds of them leaping from ledge to
ledge.

" By degrees the storm subsided, and the thick curtains
of rain and mist were drawn aside, showing once more the
ragged glacier full of iridescent colours, cutting sharp
and clear up against the pale blue sky. Not a single
wrinkle seemed to be changed out of all that contorted
mass of snow and ice."

i6o BALHOLM

What can I say of Balholm ? except that it looked
like a jewel, an emerald of the brightest and purest
water, set down by the fjord side. At this spot the
country seems more luxuriant than any other we visited.
Two large hotels and pretty, brightly painted houses
adorn the shore, and have as a background deep green
woods, encircled by deeper blue mountains, on the tops
of which lay a fresh fall of snow. A wide stretch of
fjord glitters in front ; and the little Esse Fjord runs away
to the left, making the prettiest summer picture we had
come across.

The boats flocked out towards the ship. Regular
fairy boats were these, with high stems and sterns,
painted in delicate colours of blue, green, mauve, and
pink, with scarlet cushions in each. They say here
that a great deal of Balholm's popularity was brought
about by Edna Ly all's book, A Hardy Noj-senian. Be
this as it may, there is no doubt that Balholm for some
months of the year is a delightful spot in which to live.
The children greeted us with little baskets full of flowers
for sale, pretty little yellow noisette roses of a lovely shade,
but with a disagreeable smell one does not associate with
the queen of flowers.

At one side of the road after passing the hotels are
some humble cottages built of wood and stone, with a
very slight pitch to the roof, on which the long grasses
wave. The rudimentary chimney formed a distinctly
picturesque adj unct to the cottage ; built as it was of
small boulder stones, square for a little way, with pillars
of smaller stone still at each corner. On these rested a
large slate, kept in place by turf and stones. It would
make a pretty little sketch, with the blue Qord seen
through the waving grasses. The fields on either side of the
road were full of spring flowers. The children were rosy and

=?Vt...i.'3KtSBfc.^«si^.

KING BELE'S BAUTASTEINAR i6i

healthy, no one seemingly poor or sorry. It was an ideal
morning, and made one feel in tune with the day. We
prowled on and on down the pleasant road, like the
three jovial huntsmen, with nothing much to show after
the day was done. A new house was building, and we
stopped to look, making up there and then a bright
picture for some future holiday, in which one of the party
was to build something similar, and invite the company
present as paying guests. Still wandering, we came to
the Laxvarp, which is a peculiar erection. A long flight
of rough steps from the shore is supported at the end
by two long camera-looking legs that stand in the
fjord. On a small stage on the top is the fisherman,
with half a dozen lines in the water baited for salmon.
Besides these were two or three seine nets, into which
from his elevated perch the fisherman could see all that
was going on in the clear water below.

On our way back we looked into the little English
church of St. Olaf. It is quite ordinary, built entirely
of wood, bright varnished, and tinted the shades of the
rainbow by the coloured glass in the windows ; but it is
quite good in its restful silence for prayer.

Next we ascended a mound surmounted by a great birch
tree, and a modern bautasten pointing it out as the tomb
of King Bele, a character in the wonderful Frithjof Saga,
The thousands of mounds, cairns, bautasteinar (memorial
stones), and graves found to this day all over the north
show the high veneration the earlier English-speaking
tribes had for their dead. These mounds, or cairns like
this one at Balholm, are always situated on some
conspicuous place, from which a magnificent view can
often be had. Most of these bautasteinar bear runes
(writings). Du Chaillu tells us that England, being the
earliest and most important of the northern colonies,

1 62 RUNATAL

possesses many monuments and objects with runes ;
among them a large knife, found in the bed of the
Thames, now in the British Museum. From the Sagas we
learn that runes were traced on staves, rods, weapons,
the sterns and rudders of ships, drinking horns, fish
bones, etc.

In Runatal (Odin's rune song), or the last part of
Havamal, there is a most interesting account of the use
that could be made of runes. It shows plainly that in
earlier times they were not used by the people in general
for writing, but that they were mystic, being employed
for conjurations and the like, and therefore regarded
with a certain awe and superstition. In this song Odin,
who has had to go through a terrible ordeal to learn the
runes, is supposed to be teaching some one and giving
advice. Nine was the sacred or mystical number, and in
stanza six Odin shows which tribes or people knew the
art of writing runes. It is unfortunately too long to give
the whole in this work.

THE RUNE SONG OF ODIN

" I know that I hung
On the windy tree
Nine whole nights,
Wounded with a spear.
Given to Odin,
Myself to myself;
On the tree

Of whom no one knows
From what roots it comes.

They gave me no food.
Nor a horn (drink) ;
I peered downward,
I caught the runes.
Learned them weeping ;
Thence I fell down.

ODIN'S SONG 163

Nine songs of might

I learnt from the famous

Son of Botthorn, father of Bestta ;

And I got a draught

Of the precious mead

Taken out of Adrerir.

Then I became fruitful

And wise ;

I grew and I throve ;

Word followed word

With me ;

Act followed act

With me.

Thou wilt find runes

And letters to read,

Very large staves,

Very strong staves,

Which the mighty wise one drew

And the high powers made

And the Hropt (Odin) of the gods carved

Odin (carved runes) among the Asar ;

Dain with the Alfar ;

Dvulin with the D verger ;

Alsvid (the all-wise)

With the Jotnar ;

Some I carved myself . . .

I know incantations

Which no king's wife knows,

And no man's son.

Help is the first one called.

And it will help thee

Against strife and sorrows,

Against all kinds of grief . . .

The ninth I know
If I am in need

i64 WHAT ODIN LEARNED FROM THE RUNES

To save my ship afloat

I hush the wind

On the waves,

And cahn all the sea.

The tenth I know
If I see hedge-riders
Playing in the air,
I cause that
They go astray
Out of their skins,
Out of their minds . . .

The sixteenth I know,

If of the comely maiden,

I want all the heart and the love ;

I change the mind

Of the white-armed woman

And turn all her heart . . .

I know the eighteenth,

Which I will never tell

To maiden or man's wife.

Except to her alone

That holds me in her arms,

Or is my sister ;

All is better

That one alone only knows.

That is the end of the song . . ."

In stanza ten by hedge-riders Odin means witches and
ghosts, who were beheved to ride on hedges and tops of
houses at night. Norway and its weird crowd of jutals,
trolds, werwolfs, and other uncanny spectres must have
been an uncomfortable place for nervous people in those
days.

From King Bele's mound the road goes on, shaded
in places by tall trees, past villas with pretty gardens,
especially Fru Dahl's, over the hedges of which I was

AN ARTISTIC HOME 165

rude enough to gaze, fascinated by the smell of I'oses
that grew luxuriantly. Fru herself was in the garden,
a handsome tall woman in a lovely coloured red gown
that seemed to suit her surroundings exactly. She was
tending and clipping her roses. To her courtesy
I was indebted, and dared to enter the house,
though a stranger, which gave me the opportunity
I so much wanted of seeing an artistic Norwegian
interior.

Mr. C. Dahl, the painter, received me most genially,
and showed me his pictures and some splendid studies
of fair Norse maidens. The flower-scented air wafted
the long white curtains to and fro ; these had a wide
band of Norwegian embroidery at the edge. The sun-
light, flickering on the varnished walls, lit up a great
vase of big scarlet poppies placed on the narrow long
table, which had for cover a material that I have only
met in Norway. It is too thick for muslin and not
thick enough for canvas, and is embroidered in scarlet
and blue. The furniture was carved and brightly
painted. Quaint old cupboards and curious little
cabinets, in some cases made from the ancient carved
and painted horse collars, stood about the room. Hand-
made hangings from designs by Munthe decorated the
walls. Not one colour jaiTed, yet all was as bright
as it well could be, and so exactly what a house built
of wood requires.

Monsieur was full of the fete that he was orcranising;
for the reception of King Haakon vii., who was to
arrive that day or the morning of the next. Accom-
panying us to the quay, he told how all the boats
were to collect and row out to meet the yacht. The
people were all to be dressed in gala costume, and,
after rounding to, while singing the national air.

i66 TIME AND TIDE WAIT FOR NO MAN

were to go ahead and lead her to her anchorage.
Unfortunately time and tide wait for no man. The
Vectls steamed slowly away, leaving Balholm a grand
silhouette of purple mountains against a gorgeous yellow
sky.

CHAPTER X

LOEN, MEROK, NAES, AND MOLDE

IT was just the soft twilight of the midnight hour
when we again steamed out to sea, on our way to
the Nord Fjord, which runs parallel to the Sogne Fjord,
one degree of latitude farther north. This district, with
that of Nord Fjord, in the old days formed the ancient
Firdafylke. It was delightful to linger, but still it was
necessary to have some hours of sleep. Oddly enough,
it was the days at sea, when the clatter and noise of the
working ship merged into that of the water rushing
past, that it was possible to sleep. Towards the end
of the journey it was difficult to say if the fog-horn had
sounded or if the anchor had been let go during the
night.

We laughed heartily early in the cruise when the
captain had told us that he had been asked seriously,
by a poor soul suffering from insomnia, if he considered
that the quiet of board-ship life would restore him so
far as to enable him to sleep. The slightest noise
woke him at that time. The captain answered, " Yes,
come on board and see." In this he was right, but it
was the noise that made the invalid sleep, and not the
quiet. For a man suffering as he was, I should say, take
a cruise where the ship is constantly in motion.

Before turning in I asked the night steward to tap
gently at my cabin door as we came to the mouth of

1 68 HORNELEN

the fjord. The tap came all too soon. I rose and went
on deck, and watched the giant rocks gather and separate,
assuming new groupings and forms as we approached
and slipped past them. The sea birds rose and dipped
again in our wake, flying away with shrill cries and
beating wings. For the rest all was silence in these
rock-begirt waters. To the right there was some relief
in the grey moss-grown rocks by a few slender waterfalls.
Then came Hornelen, for which I was missing sleep and
comfort. There it stood, rising sheer out of the water
for 2940 feet in an extremely narrow passage at the
north-east angle of the island of Bremanger. It looked
a huge wall of granite, tremendous in proportion to its
surroundings, the summit considerably overhanging the
base. The driving mist that had arisen with the dawn
gave it a look of ghostly and threatening aspect. The air
was chilly, the deck uninviting and damp, and no place
for pleasure seekers. Tightening my rug around my
shoulders, I again retired to the seclusion of my cabin.
The ship steamed on ; up the Nord Fjord that bifurcates
at the head of Daviks Fjord. Eyds Fjord branches a little
more to the north, and so too Hornindalsvand. Is Fjord,
a little to the south, changes its name at each little bend,
and winds away in six branches or minor fjords, four of
which are connected to big lakes, at whose head descend
the Jostedalsbrii glaciers.

The next bend after Is Fjord is Hundviks Fjord, with
its branch, the Gloppen, noted for its beautiful walks
and good trout fishing. Steamers ply three times a week
to Bergen, and five times weekly to Faleide, Loen, and
Olden. These last are three magnificent spots to visit. The
main fjord again changes its name to Ult Fjord, and
the last bend to Invik. Visnaes was just in sight as I
passed through the saloon, where early breakfast was

LOEN 169

being served to the party who were leaving for the
overland tour to Merok. The outlook was not cheerful.
Visnaes was hardly visible, owing to a damp mist that
lay across the fjord in bands, rising and mixing with
the smoke from the hamlet.

Vectis slowed and stopped whilst a launch and boat
were being lowered, then steamed slowly on to Loen,
dropping anchor in the bay formed by the head of the
fjord. The sun was just breaking through the mist.
The fjord lay like a piece of glass, a clear pearly grey.
Each dip of the oars and wake of the boats as they
pushed off from the shore left a sparkling trail behind.
Every line of a pretty white yacht was reflected, backed
by the high mountains upside down. The two big
hotels standing a little back also reflected in long white
lines quite double their height, and with twice as many
windows. To one side ran the road by which we were
to drive to Lake Loen. It rose upwards through fields
of long flowering grass, to a group of houses near which
on the right-hand side stood the church at the mouth
of the Loendal. A few more farms indispersed with
little birch trees gathered here and there by the
mountains. The Lofjeld rose to the north with its zone
of birch and fir, through which trickled little veins of
waterfalls (little only from their distance). Then came
rocks and patches of snow, and above all the almost
perpendicular steeps witli rounded back on which lay
perpetual snows. To the south the Auflemsfjeld towered
some 5090 feet high.

The first horn sounded at ten for the boats, and by the
time the second horn was about to rend the air with its
raucous voice a large party had collected in the gang-
way, at the head of the accommodation ladder. It was
a boat full that put off for the shore. As usual the

I70 LAKE LOEN

stolkjaerres were waiting on the quay, and were soon
jogging along the road we had seen from the ship. As
we drove through the valley the trees in places almost
closed overhead. We came up with bright-faced tall
girls, stepping out, their kirtles kilted well up, clear
of the muddy road, in scarlet bodice with little white
shawls thrown over their heads. It was amusing to see
one damsel after the other catch hold of the rail at
the side of the driver, and with one foot on the step
climb deftly into the seat alongside him. By and by
my turn came, and I who was alone in front felt a
heavy weight aft, my seat in the meantime becoming
most uncomfortable. I turned and saw a staid-faced
maid was seated behind, her hands demurely clasped in
her lap. I made my driver stop, and invited her to
fill the seat alongside me, and then jogged along
comfortably enough. Later I realised that we were
carrying with us the light-handed Phyllises that were to
minister to our wants at the rest house at the end
of the lake.

The little steamers are not very comfortable or very
clean, but the views from their decks are superb. In
Norway one seems always to be using the superlative,
but in this case, as in the Naero and Geiranger Fjords,
it is quite allowable. Nowhere did I see any more
beautiful lake, beginning as it did with f]shermen"'s
huts, upstanding hay behind, and outspread nets, and
upturned boats on the rocks in front. To one side was
a great shoulder thickly clothed with firs ; on the
other, a thin tongue of land with waving birch and
meadows ; and in the middle three rocks, with one,
three, and five trees on each. The winding vand
beyond was shut out by one mountain bluff' after
another, growing paler and paler, till the last lap lost

TURF -ROOFED GAARDS OF NAESDAL 171

itself in the clouds, with a blue tinted glacier spread-
ing beneath.

Sandenib rises on the left, with Auflemsfjeld and the
Melheimsnib on the right, all over 5000 feet high.
From all the mountains, especially the Ravnefjeld,
the glaciers terminate abruptly, and melt into rills and
waterfalls. On the west side of the lake is the huge
Hellesaeterbrae, from which ice avalanches fall, spreading
out below like a fan. Wherever a scrap of soil lodged
there was the small farm. Here stands the farm of
Rodi at the foot of Kvoernhusfjeld, and the farm of
Rodal backed by Skaalfjeld, with the Skaalebrae out-
pouring above. The lake contracts to a strait, and in
front towers the Nonsnib, rising sheer to the over-
whelming height of over 6000 feet. Passing through
a bend of the lake the basin of Naesdal opens out
with the Ravnefjeld on the west, the great Nonsnib
to the south, and the Bodalsfjeld on the east, with
the Kronebrae and the Kjendalsbrae peeping between.
Nothing that I have ever seen can beat the grandeur of
the scenery around Lake Loen.

It was but a year ago, under the towering heights at
the base of Nonsnib where the land looks so rich and
fertile, that the turf-roofed gaards of Naesdal stood.
These were Avithin hail of the gaards that stood on the
land at the mouth of the Kvandals-Elv, which watered
the valley. This was a most sociable spot in a country
where the farms lie scattered with miles between. A
cheery spot, but a little way from the jetty of Kjendal,
where the little launch brought numerous parties of
strangers all the summer long, and where for part of
the day the gaily dressed maids bustled, and laid long
tables ready for the hungry tourists who visited the
Kjendalsbrae.

172 NONSNIB

In front of the gaard rushed the strait with a tongue
of Bodal clothed in verdure rising on the opposite shore.
Behind the gaads were the lush fields of meadow-land,
intersected with patches of bright green corn and the
darker green of the potato. As the land receded,
getting steeper and steeper, it clothed itself with birch
and alder, which climbed to where the glacier^s snows
lay in streaks upon the rocks, and melting ran in a
silver cascade from ledge to ledge. The eternal snow
glistened above in the slightly hollowed shoulder of
Nonsnib, which in the early morning threw its great
shadow over all — the fjord in front, and the upward
slopes of Bodal. None saw in it the shadow of death.
But late one winter's night, when the snow lay thick
over all, and the hard frost gripped and split, Nonsnib
shivered as he felt the stab of the cold enter deeper
and deeper into his side. But groan as he would, the
frost jutul stabbed deeper still. With a roar that was
heard miles and miles away his great side fell out,
carrying with it the smiling prosperous gaad of Naesdal,
with its sleeping bondi, his sons and daughters, young
men and maidens, and his children''s children, sixty
souls in all, to the bottom of the fjord, a hundred
fathoms below. The fjord rose 300 feet in pro-
test, and burst its bounds, carrying boats and sheds,
fishing gear, cradles, spinning wheels, and roofing
to the head of Loenvand. There they lie scattered on
the shore amongst the boats and nets of the fishermen.

This all happened at night on the 15th of January
1906. The lake that was 100 fathoms deep is now
only 20. The level to which the water rose is recorded
on a monument, and the sister-ship to our steam launch
rests high and dry amongst the birch bushes on the top
of a hill. A big faint scar on the mountain side is now

KJENDAL 173

the only indication of the disaster which overwhelmed
the smiling homestead of Naesdal.

All was bustle on the landing place of Kjendal. The
manager of the hotel at Loen and his waiting-maids
were carrying box after box of food and hardware to
the wooden restaurant, and he let the fact be known
that if the passengers would go their various ways a
hot lunch would be ready on their return. Carts were
in waiting to drive to the foot of the glacier. Colts
waited in readiness to start with the cavalcade, and
gamboled ahead of their sturdy mothers all the way.
The road was bumpy and rough, but the stolkjaerre
went over everything, till we arrived at a swamp, where
willow and birch bushes thickly covered the ground.
The sound of footsteps was hushed in the springing
moist turf and the noise of the waterfalls. The last
part of the way was over large grey boulders and
stepping-stones to the foot of the glacier. It resembles
a great torrent frozen to the mountain side, whilst above
lies the pure white snow from which the glacier is borne
glittering in the sun. The glacier at Fjaerland fell from
the edge of a snow plateau. The glaciers from Jostedals-
bra flow from it, and at its base the stream issues from
a magnificent vault of blue ice. It was not safe to go
too near, as stones were pattering down all the time,
and in some cases rebounded a considerable distance.
Arriving back at Kjendal, the manager had been as
good as his word. Lunch was waiting. A hungry
party sat down to salmon with cream sauce, stewed
mutton, some kind of batter eaten with bilberry jam,
and very good light Norwegian beer. It was a drowsy
party that once more retraced its way down the beautiful
lake. Every seat in the stern of the launch was occupied
by the men, and soon the " Vecti "" slept, whilst a

174 MEROK

Norwegian, in rapid English intermixed with Norsk,
told me the harrowing tale of Nonsnib.

Merok (or Moeraak) is a small hamlet nestling round
the head of the wondrously beautiful Geiranger basin.
It is dominated on one side by the Saathorn, some 5835
feet high ; and on the right by the snowfields of the
Flydalshorn. The sound of rushing water fills the air,
from the roaring, foaming Storfos, that from the heights
above looks like a band of silver against the dark face
of the mountain. It gathers force as it flows, and is
joined by the minor waterfalls of the Kleivafos, Stor-
saeterfos, and the Holefos, and spreads its pale green
glacier waters in a broad green line for miles down
the fjord. The few scattered houses forming the ham-
let are built on an old moraine, above which stands the
little church with its small white spire ; and beyond
again a fair sized comfortable looking hotel, which is
not the only one. Though the place is so small it
is a good centre for excursions. We thought it quite
odd to find two other great ships besides ourselves
in the basin. The Blucher, a German ship far bigger
than Vectis, and the Argonaut. In no other part of
Norway did we meet so many tourists at one time
on shore. Launch after launch towing two and three
boats disembarked their passengers on the small quay,
where a big array of superior looking, highly varnished
and red-cushioned stolkjaerres awaited the arrivals.

With very few exceptions the horses were a light
drab colour, hog-maned, and with their tails plaited
with bright coloured braids. The stolkjaerres were
soon occupied, and the long line trotted off in their
order, which often makes it very dull work for the
cars in the rear should the first horse be a slow one.
The etiquette brought about by the width of the

A ZIGZAG ROAD 175

roads prohibits one car from passing another. The
road at Merok is a wonderful piece of engineering,
smooth and well kept ; it winds and winds in a zigzag
up the face of the cliff' with uniform big blocks of
stone placed on the edge of the steep. The numerous
bridges are built like the cyclopean walls of old, of care-
fully sized blocks without a trace of cement to bind
them together. Here the comparison ends. The ancient
Greeks did not understand the building of arches ; the
Norwegians do. It is good to scramble over the edge
close down to one of these, and admire the perfect
construction that stands the bruising and beating of
the torrent as it rushes through. The water strikes the
boulders in its descent, and throws a fine spray over
the long-bending grasses and delicate harebells that
line its path on either side.

The visitors, English and German, glanced at each
other, as only rival nations can, as they met on the
road. The more active members of both parties dis-
carded the stolkjaerres, taking short cuts from one level
to another up the steep stony banks. Up one steep
Teuton and Briton joined hands. Neither could have
done without the other. The obstacle to be surmounted
was a boulder, round, long, and smooth, with but very
slight foothold in a crevice where it joined on to
the face of the cliff". Young Germany was thin, tall,
and spectacled. Frau smiling and stout. Herr very
stout, red in the face, and carefully enveloped in a
soft brown shawl whose fringed points hung down back
and front, nearly touching the ground. Frau said
" Com," and young Germany sprang to the front,
making a dash for the rock, his finger-tips barely
holding on to the ledge. The Briton brought up
reinforcement in the shape of a big birch bough, which

176 "CHERRMANS TO DEE FRONT"

supported him in the rear till he had a firm hold.
Herr waved and shouted, " Cherrmans to dee front,""
quoting Admiral Seymour. Holding on to young
Germany ""s outstretched hand, the British scrambled up
next. Frau was hauled up, laughing, bunched and
plump. Herr exclaimed : " It tis impossible ; mein fat
will not allow " ; but Briton and German held out a
helping hand, and Herr, willy-nilly, amid much laughter,
was hauled to the top, " Mein Gott," he panted, " the
fat of the son of my father was never meant to climb."

Towards the end of the winding road, and after
crossing a noisy brook, a corner was found suitable
for the artist to wield his brush. To one side was
the typical new gaad (or farm), with its big living
house, bare of any ornament, painted white picked out
with red. The storerooms were below, and behind
the great barn with hayloft and stables. Every avail-
able morsel of soil was carefully tilled up to the bare
rocks, where pasturage stopped. The firs and birch
continued the march, crowning the summit of the near
hills. Beyond again lay the mountain peaks, purple
in the distance, seamed and lined with great patches
of snow.

At our feet in a slight hollow was an old farm,
far more picturesque in every way than the new. What
paint could beat the silvery grey of the old timber !
And what roofing could possibly compete with the
birch-barks covered with flowering turf! The buildings
cluster closer together, like some small settlement, and
give a look of comfort that the newer farms do not
possess. All around is the waving grass, and a mass
of our ordinary English wild flowers, — giant harebells,
that go so well with the mauve scabious ; cow parsley,
with its light, lacey, flat heads of bloom ; long thin-

GEIR ANGER FJORD I77

stemmed buttercups ; great pink heads of sweet clover ;
small heartsease, and patches of pale yellow snapdragon.
The grass stood high, ready for the little scythe that
cuts round every stone, great or small. The careful
husbandman does not miss a blade up or down the
hill, on the bank or in the ditch.

Lower still were thick groves of trees, the thin spray
of the hidden waterfalls rising above the leafy boughs,
and then came a rich level of lush pasture, of an
intense green. In the mead the men worked in their
shirt sleeves, though the rain had begun to fall, and
soon came down steadily. Unable to cope with the
weather, we resumed our upward walk to the farm of
Flydal, from which we obtained an excellent view of
the Hydalshorn and the Blaahorn, while still higher
was the Flydalsbrae, a snowy glacier scarred by huge
crevices. On our way back we stopped for a moment
to look over a jutting rock, an abyss several hundred
feet deep to the level of the valley below. The Storfos
huiTying to the fjord lay at our feet. Great rocks
strewed the meadows, intersected with copses of birch
and alder. From this coign of vantage we looked into
the amphitheatre which forms the end and head of
the Geiranger, which fitly closes this magnificent gorge,
forming a contrast to the bare rock sentinels on either
side, ending as it does richly clothed with woods and
pasture.

Overwhelming is the word that seems to describe
this wonderful Geiranger Fjord. Other fjords we had
steamed through were fine, beautiful, and even sublime,
but none came up to Geiranger. Perhaps it was the
evening light that made it look so stupendous ; but
be that as it may, Geiranger is the fjord one remembei's
best. The narrow dark waters reflect the long white

178 UNDER THE SHADOW OF MIGHTY CLIFFS

waterfalls that everywhere tip over the edge of the
cliffs. The many curious formations, and the farms
perched on what look inaccessible heights, all combine
to make this one of the most weird arms of the sea.

Steaming quite slowly, we wended our way down,
passing on our right the gaard of Grande, overtopped
by the Lanshorn. A little farther down the cliffs took the
curious resemblance of some giant's profile, and high above
the water rose the famous pulpit rock. The next bend
revealed the Seven Sisters waterfall streaming down the
face of the worn grey granite ; seven they say, but this
must be when the snows are first melting. We could
count but four side by side. High up on the slope near
them is the gaard of Knivsflaa ; its fields slope down to
the perpendicular cliffs of the fjord, and look all but
inaccessible to man or beast. I heard it was necessary
to tether the babies for fear of their rolling over the
edge.

Under the deep shadows of these mighty cliffs the
ship glides along her course, bordered on either side by
walls of grey granite, down which are great black stains
as though water was soaking into the surface of the stone.
The scenery was so stupendous that a hush fell over us
all, as though we were in church. High above the
water fell, but from a rock so steep that it lost itself in
falling. Another betrayed its existence only by the
stretch of white foam on the fjord below. Falls seemed
to come from out the clouds, and others like light white
veils blew to one side or another. Under the deep
shadows the ship crept silently on.

We steamed out to sea and through Molde Fjord in
the night, and right along the arm of the Romsdal
Fjord, anchoring in Is Fjord off Aandalsnaes. One blast
had sounded for the shore, which at the moment looked

THE ROMSDALHORN 179

anything but tempting, A cold drizzle was falling, and
the outlines of the mountains that girdled the fjord were
dimmed and in some places entirely blotted out. This
stretch of water, usually so beautiful, was wrinkled and
fretted, with dull-coloured wavelets striking yet another
dreary note in the universal grey. Nevertheless the
shore boats were full. Some were for driving ; some
for walking. At the quay the stolkjaeiTes and carioles
were waiting in close line, the horses more gaily equipped
than in most other towns.

Aandalsnaes, or Naes, is the chief approach to the
Romsdal, and the enchanting valley of the Rauma. At
first the walking was but slow, as it was necessary to
stand aside as each cart passed. It was better, on the
whole, to look at the houses and hotels, and drink in the
sweet smell of flowers, till the last had driven by, and
then step out along the moist red road. This valley has
a world-wide fame, and is really beautiful from the
entrance at Naes to the foot of Rorasdalhorn at
Horgheim, a distance of about eight easily walked
miles. The great Romsdalhorn, 5100 feet high, dominates
the valley. It is first seen with beautiful delicate woods
in the foreground, of alder, birch, and ash, growing thickly
down the banks, and flourishing on tongues of land that
stretch into the river. These form broad pools, which
in their turn reflect every leaf and branch of the over-
hanging trees. Silver sand and pebble beaches fringe
the edge.

As one ascends the valley gets wilder, the mountains
rising patched with forest growths. The trees look
up and around, finding room to expand their arms here
and there. They clothe the ravine's side like only
Norwegian trees can ; the juniper, fir, the birch with
her rustling leaves, and the heather cluster together,

l8d THE VALLEY OF THE ROMA

reminding me of the prologue of Arne by Bjomson,
in which the trees are supposed to talk together, and
have made up their minds to clothe the mountains.
" Before long the Juniper began to slip. ' Catch hold of
me,' said the Heather. Juniper did so, and when there
was only a tiny crevice the Heather put in one finger,
and where the Heather put a finger in, there the
Juniper worked in her whole hand. On they clambered
upward, the Fir slowly following them, and the Birch
labouring after. ' But it's God's own work,' said the
Birch." This last exactly expresses what one feels
in this marvellous country.

Higher up the pass is more like Glencoe than any
other place I know, but on a much grander scale. Like
Glencoe, it too was the scene of the massacre of Colonel
Ramsay, Captain Sinclair, and nine hundred Scotch
auxiliaries, who had landed a few days before at
Veblungsniis (the little point across the Roma in front
of Naes) when trying to force their way through Norway
to join the Swedes, then at war with the Norwegians.
They were intercepted by an ambush of three hundred
peasants at this spot. The natives had felled trees and
collected a huge pile of stones on the hill above the
road, which they hurled down on the invaders. Most
of the Scots were thus destroyed, and almost all the
survivors put to the sword. This happened on the
26th of August 1612. Details can be found in Thomas
MichelPs History of the Scottish Expedition to Nortvay.

This glen is said to be a great fault, with an anticlinal
axis, and an upthrow of granite in the crack. But since
the world's crust was bent and broken the glen has been
full of ice. The breadth from cliff to cliff may be about
two miles, the space between being filled with a series
of flat steps, which are made of sand and boulders, many

THE MONGEFOS i8i

of which are of enormous size. Big stones are piled in
mounds and ridges, amongst which firs, birches, willow,
and alder grow. Looking down the valley, the course
of the ice is marked so clearly that it is impossible to
misunderstand the record. Where the stream ran against
the bank in a bay the cliffs are deeply scored to a height
of about a thousand feet ; where the ice turned sharp
round the foot of the horn, the marks are fresh. Talus
heaps which have crumbled from weathered peaks above,
and a small drain washed through boulder-heaps below,
are the marks made by weathering and rivers ; but they
are insignificant beside these ice marks.

From a small lake close to Fokstuen, which is about
3000 feet above the present sea level, a stream
runs to the Glomenen, passes Kongs Vinger, and enters
the Skagerak. It is joined by a stream which starts
from a lake near Roraas, and from hills near Roraas
water runs to Elfdal, to Hudiksvalla, to Gefle, and to
Trollhatten.

The mountains were still smothered in great white
clouds, but we kept on through the drizzle and were
fully rewarded, as the body of the clouds soon dissolved,
leaving only some feathery white mist which clung about
the torrent gullies of the mountain sides, and then slowly
melted into sunshine. All the torrents, streams and
cascades were at work, from the roaring leaps of the
Rauma to Staubacks innumerable, Giessbacks, Kichen-
backs, twin Handecks, — in fact, every type of waterfall
that pours and dashes down their own chosen courses.
The finest of these was situated about half-way between
Flatmark and Horgheim stations ; it is called the
Mongefos, that descends from the IMongegjura some
4230 feet above. Looking up, with an effort that strains
the neck, to the frowning wall of rock, a torrent is seen.

1 82 HOW THE WATER FALLS

pouring apparently out of the blue. It bends smoothly
over the topmost edge, as blue as the sky itself, as
clear as crystal, with the light shining through. Then
it is lost, having made a first plunge of a hundred feet
or so down into a boiling cauldron which it has worn
out of the rock by its everlasting blows. Again it
reappears, shattered to snowy fragments, and, striking
the rock once more, spreads out and tears down a
long, rugged slope, in white fleeces of broken water.
At every resisting ledge clouds of fine spray and mist
dash out, the sunlight tinting them here and there
with bands of lovely rainbows. Then a great ledge
bars its path, and it bounds upwards and forwards
into the free air; and, bruised and battered into mere
water-dust, fine and light, it struggles even with the
slight resistance of the air, and descends with slow,
unvarying speed some four or five hundred feet more.
Next it showers upon another slope of rock, spreads into
a multitude of little rills, and disappears again, till at
last it rushes under the road to join the Rauma, and
keeps its company to the all-absorbing seas. In nearly
all the breaks and hollows of the dark precipitous rocks
are patches of snow, some of them so low as almost to
touch the cornfields. Amongst all this wild sublimity
there are rich substantial farms along the table-lands
of the terraces. Should the day be wet a very short
skirt is advisable for this walk.

Some people think the Romsdal Fjord, which is a con-
tinuation of Molde Fjord, is one of the (many) finest in
Norway, and that the view from Molde, alone is worth
the journey. That Molde is worth the journey I quite
agree, but the fjord at Molde is beautiful without
being sublime. To the north are a series of weathered
peaks, broken beds of rock, which start away from

MOLDE 183

the famous RomsdaLshorn, an obelisk of granite about
4000 feet high, off which the snow shdes sheer down
into the valley. The foot of man is apt to slide, as all
climbers know, where snow cannot rest. Yes, Molde's
Fjords and Romsdal Fjord are beautiful, and from their
extended waters something like fifty peaks can be
seen.

Tang tang, tang tang, ring out the bells of Molde
across the waters of the calm fjord. What could it be ?
Fire ? Someone else suggested a christening, another
a burial, but all were wrong. They were joy bells for
a wedding. Tang tang, tang tang, went on the bells,
changing as the visitors were stepping on shore to ding
dong ; wock, much more slowly rung, reminding one
of the old Norfolk church, with its three bells, one made
of leather that would only ring out wock. Molde was
likewise decorated with flags, much sunshine, and, for
Norway, many flowers, by which I mean garden flowers.
Roses grew in profusion, with pale yellow honeysuckle,
masses of bright poppies, and a tall graceful spiraea.

Curiosity and the bells dogged one's footsteps. All
unthinking we took the steep path up the hill to the
nice wooden church with a pretty steeple. Outside were
a number of stolkjaerres for the guests, and one closed
carriage from which the bride, clothed in white satin,
was just stepping. The procession passed into the
church, the door being shut against unbidden guests.
The stolkjaerre drivers, leaning against their carts, the
rope reins held slack in their hands, eyed the strangers
stolidly. To all questions with regard to entering the
church they shook their heads, so that one by one the
group that had been collected by the bell straggled away.
The road ran between an avenue of trees with farms and
private houses standing in well-kept gardens on one

1 84 MOLDE FJORD

side, on the other a magnificent view of the Molde Fjord,
lying grey and shimmering, with the wonderful range of
blue mountains going away and away to what seemed
the open sea.

Again the bells rang a joyous peal The bride had
left ; the ceremony over, nothing but a few withered
flowers remained where the bride had lately stood. The
door was now opened, and inside on a little table rested
the alms box. Tlie church was filled with a faint sweet
smell of syringa and honeysuckle, that was tied and twined
round the altar rails, and now hung drooping in the still
close atmosphere. Behind the altar was the great picture
painted by Axel Ender, of the angel sitting on the tomb
of our Lord, telling the sorrowing women that He had
risen. The colour is striking and harmonious, and the
picture lit up the whole end of the church.

It is not to be wondered at that Molde is so popular.
It is one of the pleasantest places in Norway. There is
nothing grand, savage, or overwhelming about it, but as
a resting-place when the limbs are weary of wandering it
cannot be surpassed. There is nothing remarkable about
the town itself, consisting as it does of one long main street
and a few bylanes with houses and public buildings of
the most ordinary character. The two hotels, the
Alexandra and the Grand, are large and generally filled
to overflowing. Plenty of shops line each side of the
street, where bric-a-brac, jewellery, toys, nice furs, and
beautiful light eider skin rugs can be bought. There is
also a bazaar, where one can see thousands of varieties
of Norwegian carvings and modelled work, native costumes,
knives, and embroideries.

There are piers and quays and warehouses along the
shore, as Molde does a very fair amount of small shipping
business. Many steamers like our own call, stay some

CHARMING SURROUNDINGS 185

hours or days, and add not a little to the prosperity of
the town, as few of the passengers leave without spending
in furs and knick-knacks more than they had any intention
of doing.

The chief charm of Molde is its surroundings. Every
part of the town looks out upon a vast expanse of water,
which presents the appearance of an immense lake some
eight miles across and thirty to thirty-five from end to
end. This expanse of water is broken by the long islands
of Gjerto, Soetero, and Faaro. On the opposite shore of
this great lake is ranged a panorama of mountains that
skirts its entire length, — a long array of peaks and horns
and fjords with unfamiliar names. The only one easily
recognised is the sugar-loaf crown of the Romsdalshorn
and the sharp needles of the Troltinderne in the middle
of the range. The hills behind Molde abound in delight-
ful M^alks. They are clothed within a short distance
of the ridge with pine, birch, horse-chestnuts, limes, ash,
and cherry trees ; roses abound, and some of the houses are
overgrown with honeysuckle. Sheltered from the northerly
and westerly storms, the vegetation is surprisingly
luxuriant, though Molde is nearly three degrees of
latitude north of St. Petersburg. One has the choice of
rambling in neglected wildernesses, or following the well-
made roads and paths which wind up to the heights. The
most easily accessible of these is Reknaeshaugen, a canopied
terrace standing in the midst of a little public park
intersected with winding walks. Going farther up the
varde, one comes to a wooden pleasure-house about half-
way to the top of the hill, from which it is an easy
walk to the summit of the ridge. From Tor Stuen a
magnificent and more extended view of the mountain
ranges can be seen on the one hand, and a grand view of
the sea and the rocky islands that fringe the coast on the

1 86 BJORNSTJERNE BJORNSON

other. The roads are excellent that skirt the margin of
the shore for scores of miles, and by one route, a whole
day's journey, it is possible to make the entire circuit of
the peninsula on which Molde stands.

The place is never dull ; people pass to and fro from the
steamers, engage carioles and stolkjaerres, or settle up
with their skydsgut. The luggage taken to and fro from
the landing stage, and the vessels and boats, large and
small, arriving and departing, are a constant source of
interest. The great lake reflecting the sunset, the wide
expanse of water ever before you, ruffled by the wind,
or a beautiful calm, are scenes of which one never
wearies.

Bjornstjerne Bjornson was born on the 8th December
1832 at the farmstead of Bjorgen, in Kvikne, in Oster-
dalen. In 1837 his father, who had been priest of
Kvikne, was transferred to the parish of Noesset, in
Romsdalen. In this romantic place the childhood of
Bjornson was spent. In 1841 he was sent to school at
the neighbouring town of Molde, and at the age of
seventeen to Christiania to study for the University ;
his instinct for poetry was already awakened, and indeed
he had written verses from his eleventh year. He took
his degree at the University of Christiania in 1852,
and began to work as a journalist, especially as a
dramatic critic. His progress was, however, slow. It
was not until 1856 that in Thrond, the earliest of his
short stories, he began to develop his real talent. In
1857 appeared Synnove Solbakketi, the first of Bjornson's
peasant novels, followed by Arne, A Happy Boy, and
The Fisher Maiden. These are the most important
specimens of his " bonde-fortajllinger," or peasant tales —
a section of his literary work which has made a profound
impression in his own country, and has made him popular

PURE PEASANT STORIES 187

throughout the world. These novels are full of freshness
and beauty combined with remarkable realism. Two
of these tales, Arne and Synnove Solhakken, are nearly
perfect, and offer finer examples of the pure peasant story
than are to be found elsewhere in literature.

Bjornson Avas anxious, as he puts it, "to create a new
saga in the life of the peasant,"" and he thought this
should be done not merely in prose fiction, but in
national dramas or " folke-stykker," The earliest of
these was Betzveen the Battles, written in 1855, but
not produced till 1857. It was followed by Lame Hulda
and King Sverre. All these efforts, however, were far
excelled by the splendid trilogy of Sigurd the Bastard,
which Bjornson issued in 1862, and Sigurd the Crusader,
which was not printed until 1872. This raised him to
front rank among the younger poets of Europe.

At the close of 1857 Bjornson was appointed director
of the theatre at Bergen, a post which he held, with
much journalistic work thrown in, for two years, when he
returned to the capital. After this he travelled widely
throughout Europe. Early in 1865 he undertook the
management of the Christiania Theatre, and brought
out his popular comedy of The Neicly Married and his
romantic tragedy of Mary Stuart in Scotland.

Although Bjornson has introduced, into his novels and
plays, songs of extraordinary beauty, he has never been
a very copious writer of verse. Both his principal con-
tributions to this art were collected in the year 1870,
when he published his Poems and Songs and the spirited
romances called Arnljat Gelline ; the latter volume
contains the magnificent ode called " Bergliet," Bjornson's
finest contribution to lyrical poetry. It is odd that
between 1864 and 1874, in the very prime of his life, he
should have displayed a slackening of the intellectual

1 88 VOLUNTARY EXILE

forces very remarkable in a man of his energy. That
he was mainly occupied with politics and his business
of theatrical manager dining this time may well account
for it, but it is likely that his fiery propaganda as a
radical agitator would at the time override the poetic
side of his nature, and the reality of his calling sap his
energy, especially when he supplemented his journalistic
work by delivering lectures over the length and breadth
of the northern countries. He possessed to a surprising
degree the arts of the orator, combined with a magnificent
physical prestige.

From 1873 to 1876 Bjornson was absent from Norway,
and in the peace of voluntary exile he recovered his
imaginative power. His new departure as a dramatic
author began with The Editor in 1874, and A
Bankricptcy in 1875, both social dramas of an extremely
modern and realistic cast, the second of which has con-
tinued to be in many countries the piece of Bj unison's
which has longest kept the stage. The poet was now
settled at the estate of Anlestael in Gansdal, in a house
which is a fine example of old Norwegian domestic
architecture, and which has been his home since 1874.

In 1877 he published another novel, Magnliild, in
which his ideas on social questions were seen to be in a
state of fermentation, a polemical play called The King,
and another story Captain Mansana followed ; and then,
wishing for success on the stage, he concentrated his
powers on the drama called Leonarda, which appeared
in 1879. This was an appeal for religious toleration,
and it raised a violent controversy that was not allayed
by a satirical play, The New System, which was brought
out a few weeks later. Although these plays of
Bjornson's second period were greatly discussed, none
of them except A Bankruptcy pleased on the boards.

JONAS LIE 189

He felt the disappointment so keenly that he preserved
silence as a dramatist till 1883, when once more he
produced a social drama, A Gauntlet, which he was
unable to persuade any manager to stage. To many
people, however, this was considered one of the most
skilfully composed " problem plays " of modern times.

A play that achieved great success was one entitled
Over jEvne {Beyond our Powers), which deals with the
abnormal features of religious excitement with extra-
ordinary power. Bjornson now again turned his back
on the stage, and published in 1884 Flags are Flying in
Town and Port : In God''s Way, which is one of the
works by which he is best known outside his own country.
A number, too, of short stories of a more or less didactic
character, dealing with startling points of emotional
experience, were collected in 1894 ; those producing the
greatest sensation were : Dust, AIother''s Hands, and
Ahsalonis Hair. At the opening of the National Theatre
in 1899 Bjornson, whose popularity in Norway is un-
bounded, received an ovation, and his saga drama of
Sigurd the Crusader was put on the boards with
great magnificence.

Bjornson is a republican of the most advanced order,
and according to his critics his views are pushed
forward too crudely for artistic effect in several of his
later works.

Two writers of novels who owe much to the example
of Ibsen and Bjornson are Jonas Lie and Alexander
Kielland. Lie was late in developing his talent, and
lost nmch time in wavering between the sentimental
and the realistic schools of treatment. His best books
have been stories of seafaring life : The Man zoith the
Second Sight ; T/te Threemaster " Future " ; The Pilot and
his Wife; and Ruttand. In Kielland we have a man

190 ALEXANDER KIELLAND

who has more talent than Lie, his progress has been
more rapid and steady, and he has a clearer idea of
what he wishes to do. He began by being strongly
influenced by Zola, so say his critics, but to my mind no
trace of this is to be found in his Garman og Worse.
He is one of the youngest of distinguished Norwegian
writers.

-•'-■&. - -1! .fit'. iEtJTJT^

IM

-*. „'^,.v

CHAPTER XI

TRONDHJEM AND ITS KINGS

TRONDHJEM is the strength and heart of the
country, and the cradle of the kingdom of
Norway. Here, on Bratoren, the Norwegian kings were
elected and crowned so far back as the hero of my
favourite saga, Olaf Tryggvason, who met his death at
the battle of Svold in 995. Here he had built himself
a palace and a church, which he dedicated to St. Clement,
and on the same site rose Trondhjem Cathedral,

As soon as the Norman Romanesque architecture in
the middle of the eleventh century had assumed per-
manent forms in Northern France and England, it
appears at a corresponding stage in Norway. The stone
churches erected in Trondhjem by the kings Harald
Haardrada and Olaf Kj'rre, each in turn sheltered the
shrine of St. Olaf, and appear especially to have belonged
to this first Norman group. This close association with
England and Norman France is evident in all their
mediaeval architecture, and the late Norman style
represented in Trondhjem and the Trondhjem district
is without doubt the richest.

Here, at the establishment of the archbishopric in 1152,
stood Olaf the PeacefuFs Christ Church. Eystein was
the archbishop, who was especially active in its alteration,
to suit the requirements of a metropolitan church. In
1180, for political reasons, he was obliged to flee to

191

192 TRONDHJEM CATHEDRAL

England. Just as it so happened, the choir of
Canterbury Cathedral was being rebuilt by William
of Sens and ^Villiam the Englishman, with the pointed
arch, and an exceedingly beautiful expression of form,
which was the introduction of the Early English style.
The horse-shoe forming the east end of St. Thomas's
corona in Canterbury Cathedral is probably the model
from which the octagon in Trondhjem was taken.

With fresh impressions from England, Eystein deter-
mined, on his return to his own country in 1183, to
rebuild the choir of Christ Church. Only the lower
part of it, and the octagon at the east end which covered
the reliquary of the saint, with its aisle and chapels,
show Eystein's transition style. The upper parts are
fully developed early Gothic, and the arch in front of the
octagon has traceries characteristic of the fourteenth
century. The roof of the transept is open, and the
choir covered with richly ornamented cross vaulting.
The material of which it is built (soapstone) gives the
walls a soft green shade which contrasts beautifully with
the white marble of the pillars. The extreme readiness
with which soapstone lends itself to the carver's art is
seen everywhere.

During the period from Sverre's death in 1202 until
Haakon iv.'s absolute sovereignty in 1240, artistic
energies appear to have flagged. But from 1240 to about
1320 is the flourishing period of Gothic architecture
in Norway as in England. The treatment of form
became lavish and lighter. The pointed arch, bell-
shaped capitals with round abacus, and beautifully and
firmly modelled foliage, and deep mouldings appeared.

The cathedral has been repeatedly injured by Are, —
even as late as 1719 the last took place. Since 1869,
when the east part was re-roofed, the cathedral has been

ADVICE TO VISITORS 193

undergoing a thorough and judicious restoration super-
intended by Mr, H. Christie, who has used and reproduced
all the available morsels he could find of the old build-
ing. The royal entrance is completed, and from the
square tower now rises a finely proportioned steeple.
Norway is justly proud of its church as a national
monument. The State, the Trondhjem Savings Bank,
and subscriptions from private and public sources enable
the work required to be carried on.

In an old book I had read that the family pews were
very curious, being tiers of boxes made of deal wood, like
rabbit hutches piled one above another; but these are
now gone. I had also meant to ask if the vault still
existed containing the mummified bodies of the Norwegian
kings, which about fifty years ago lay heaped one upon
another, the coffins broken and the bodies visible. But
this I forgot to do, which is perhaps as well, as I should
never wish again to be haunted as I had once been by
the still form of the priestess of Amen-Ra in the
British Museum. The cool soft light and shade of
this ancient fane was delightful after the glare and
dust of the broad white streets, I never felt the heat as I
did in Trondhjem. The little horses were even crushed
by it, and went along with steaming sides and bowed
heads.

My advice to the visitor to Trondhjem is — see the
town first, and the two waterfalls, which make a very
nice afternoon's drive. The upper fall repeats in a
marvellous manner the look of the frozen glacier torrent
of Bojumsbrae at Mundal. But instead of snow, in this
case it is seething white water that comes tumblino-
towards you, turning into clouds of spray as it reaches a
more level bed. The lower fall is a cascade enveloped in
clouds of mist, as it rushes between banks that are
13

194 BACK TO COMFORT

covered with trees. The country gives one a very good
idea of its fertihty. The vegetation is rich, and
extends all round. One can well imagine that the river
rarely freezes, and the fjord never. Leave the cathedi'al
to the end. It is the best monument in the north, and
of the greatest interest. If you see over this first you
will find that the town suffers by comparison. Seen
first, the wide streets, the beautiful fjord, the large
warehouses supported on piles, and the quaint un-
adorned look of the wooden houses are interesting, if not
picturesque.

The heat was so intense on shore that it was most
delightful to once again put out to sea. As the launch
approached the ship we looked at each other. " Do you
think you can dance a step ? " I asked my girl neighbour.
We were all limp with the heat, and fanned ourselves
with the ends of various parcels we had collected on
shore. " I don't think so ; I can't walk a step," was her
answer.

It was the sight of the flags and awning that had
brought forth the question. It was evident there was
to be a dance that evening. We clustered in the
gangway reading the various notices at the head of the
companion-way. Why does one always do it .'* You
may have been half an hour only on shore, yet on your
return read the notices you must. Here we saw : " The
games committee have decided, as the sea is so calm, to
have a dance on deck this evening at 8,30." We shook
our heads ; but there in the saloon was tea, all ready
for us in the little brown pot that cheers, and on the
long crimson-covered tables stood large bunches of
flowers. The sunlight twinkled on the bright brass of
the ports, and the passing blue water, dancing and dimp-
ling, reflected itself in the long white ceiling. How

TROXDHJEM CATHEDRAT.

WE ARE OF ONE TONGUE 195

nice it all seemed as the steward fetched a fresh pot
of tea.

Here, I may say, I have read of the hotel porter and
his many virtues, which it is an undoubted fact exist,
but nowhere have I seen the steward apprised at his real
worth. The praises of the steward have yet to be sung.
O steward, the poet might begin, but where he would
end I cannot say. Up to date I have found nothing
that one steward or another could not do. So we drank
tea, chatted, dressed, and dined ; and by the time 8.30
came round there was nothing we could not do. All
exhausted, the band finished the ball, the violin, piano,
flute, and clarionet giving forth the last notes of " A life
on the ocean wave " and " God save our King " as the
clock struck the hour of twelve.

" We are of one tongue, though one of the two, or
in some respects both, are now much changed." {Prose
Edda.)

" Then ruled over England King Ethelred, son of Edgar
(979). He was a good chief; he sat this winter in
London. The tongue in England, as well as in Norway
and Denmark, was then one. But it changed in England
when William the Bastard won England. Thenceforth
the tongue of Valland (France) was used in England,
for he (William) was born there." {Guaoclaaig Ormstivngas
Saga, c. 7.)

If we read the sagas we can trace our forefathers
back to Odin the Asa king, and learn the character and
life of the Norse ancestors of the English-speaking
peoples. We can form a satisfactory idea of their
religious, social, political, and warlike life. We can
follow them from their birth to their grave ; see the
infant exposed to die, or water sprinkled; follow the
child in his education, in his sports ; the young man in

196 THE BARD AS AN HISTORIAN

his practice of arms ; the maiden in her domestic duties
and embroidery ; the adult in his warhke expeditions ;
hear the clash of swords, and the song of the scald
inciting the warriors to greater deeds of daring, or it
may be recounting afterwards the glorious death of the
hero. We listen to the old man giving his advice at the
Thing ; we learn about the dress of these ancestors, their
ornaments, implements, weapons ; their expressive names
and complicated relationships ; their dwellings and con-
vivial halls, with their primitive or magnificent furniture ;
their temples, sacrifices, gods, and sacred ceremonies ;
their personal appearance, even to the hair, eyes, face,
and limbs. Their festivals, betrothal and marriage feasts
are open to us. We are present at their athletic games,
preparatory to the stern realities of the life of that
period, where honour and renown were won on the battle-
field; at the revel and drunken bout; behold the dead
warrior on his burning ship, or on the pyre, surrounded
by his weapons, horses, slaves, or fallen companions who
are to enter with him into V^alhalla.

The first metal the Norsemen knew was copper, which
is found in many parts of Norway. To begin with, it
was used unalloyed, for in the north many implements
of pure copper have been unearthed. Gradually it was
discovered that a little tin mixed with the copper made
it much harder. And as bronze was far superior to
stone, it no doubt superseded it in many cases. But the
new metal must have been very costly, as tin had to be
imported from distant countries. Stone axes were used
therefore far on in the age of bronze. Gold was also
worked up into all sorts of ornaments, rings, bracelets,
and brooches.

Du Chaillu, who years ago introduced the gorilla to
the world, wrote his book to prove the truth of the

SCANDINAVIA AND ANCIENT GREECE 197

old myth that the Scandinavian race came with Odin
originally from the shores of the Black Sea, and that they
brought with them the religion, the arts, and the culture
of the ancient Greeks. He illustrated it with many
beautiful pictures, showing what a likeness the Viking
ships bore to those of Argos and Corinth. The patterns
wrought by the old Norsemen were shown to be very
like early classic ornament, the similarity of the rude
figures chiselled in the rock to archaic carving in Asia
Minor, and the likeness of the runic character to the
Greek alphabet, were all worked out in the most ingenious
way.

Isaac Taylor, the Dean of York, also made systematic
researches into the origin of the alphabet. When he
came to study the runes he suggested quite the same
interpretation, and said that they were derived from
Greek sources. On the other hand, Wimmer, in his great
work Die Runenschrift, states that the runes were
developed from the Latin letters in use during the
second century, but it has been pointed out that the
Latin was written from left to right, and it is very
unlikely that a people borrowing such an alphabet would
use it to write from right to left.

Hempl contends that the runes were derived about
600 B.C. from the western Greek. Taylor, however,
thought they came from a Greek colony on the Black
Sea, and it is well known that the early Greek was often
written, as we should say, backwards. Wherever the Norse
Vikings came from, there can be no doubt that they had
much in common with the warrior kings of Homer's verse.
The mythology of each race may be compared, — Zeus, the
god of the sky, with his irresistible bolts might quite
well be Thor the Thunderer under another name. His
fight with the Titans has probably suggested the slaying

198 HEATHEN GODS

of the Jotun giants. The immortals, though nothing
but types of contemporary human nature, have much in
common. Each race beheved in three sisters of fate, the
gods of fire, and the under-world, besides demi-gods and
heroes of all degrees.

Animal metamorphosis of the most wonderful character
occurs in both mythologies. The Scandinavian cosmogonic
myth gives us tales of Odin, the swift-goer, the ganger.
He could deal in magic. When he stole Suttungs Mead,
which answers to the classic nectar, he flew away in the
shape of an eagle. One of his names is the Raven God.
Asa Loki was of mixed race, half god, half giant. He
changed into a mare and became the mother of the eight-
legged horse of Odin. Helen is described as the long-
legged one, lord of the ooze ; his name suggests that of
a crane. The constant enemies of the gods, the giants,
could also turn themselves into animals when they wished.
Havindal and Loki change themselves into seals to fight
their battle. Odin''s wife was Frigg, from whom we have
the week day Friday. Their son was Thor, the thunder
god. Thursday was his festival. He had a hammer and
was a jjreat fighter.

The gods of Norway, some of them derived from the
forces of nature, and the rest indifferently represented
as divine, human, or animal, are, after all, only men, and
primitive men at that. The story of the pure and much-
loved god Balder, who descended into Hell, seems to have
been adopted later; suggested perhaps by the teaching
of Christianity. The race of the gods was called
Asgardr Godheimr, and that of the giants Utgardr
Jotunheimr, and the bards sang Eddas of the halls of
Odin, where the souls of the heroes killed in war lived for
ever.

Everywhere we see that gold was in the greatest

OLD RECORDS 199

abundance, as shown by the treasures in the museums
of the north, which bear witness to the truthfuhiess
of the records. The spade has developed the history of
Scandinavia as it has done that of Assyria and Etruria ;
but in addition the Northmen had the Saga and Edda
literature to perpetuate their deeds.

Britain, being an island, could only be settled or con-
quered by seafaring tribes, just in the same way as to-day
distant lands can only be conquered by nations possessing
ships. Unfortunately the Roman accounts of the con-
quest and occupation of Britain, of its population and
inhabitants, are very meagre and unsatisfactory, and do
not help us much to ascertain how the settlement in
Britain by the people of the north began.

We find from Roman records that the so-called Saxons
had founded colonies, or had settlements in Belgium and
Gaul ; and another important fact we know from the
records relating to Britain is, that during the Roman
occupation of the island the Saxons had settlements in
the country, but how they came there we are not
told.

In the Notitia Dign'dahim utriusque imperii, which was
a sort of catalogue or " army list " compiled towards
the latter end of the fourth century, occurs the expres-
sion, " Comes litoris Saxonici per Britannias " — Count
of the Saxon shore in Britain. Within this litus
Saxonicum the following places are mentioned —
Othona, said to be "close by Hastings"; Dubris, said
to be Dover ; Rutupige, Richborough ; Branodumum,
Brancaster ; Regulbium, Reculvers ; Lemannis, West
Hythe; Garianno, Yarmouth; Anderida, Pevensey;
Portus Adurni, Shoreham or Brighton. This shows
that the so-called Saxons were settled in Britain before
the Notitia was drawn up, and at a date very much

200 THE PEACE OF FRODI

earlier than has been assigned by some modern his-
torians.

The Skjoldunga Saga, which is often mentioned in
other sagas, and Avhich contains a record down to the
early Kings of Denmark, is unfortunately lost ; but from
some fragments we see that several Danish and Swedish
Kings claimed to have possessions in England long before
the supposed coming of the Danes.

" Skjold (Shield) was the son of Odin, from whom the
Skjoldungar are descended. He dwelt in and ruled over
the lands now called Danmork, which were then called
Gotland. Skjold had a son, Fridleif, who ruled the lands
after him. Fridleifs son Frddi got the kingship after
his father, about the time when the Emperor Augustus
made peace all over the world. Then Christ was born.
As Frddi was the most powerful of all kings in the
northern lands, all who spoke the Danish tongue
attributed the peace to him, and the Northmen called
it the peace of Frddi. Now Frddi the Valiant had two
sons, Ing-jald and Halfdan. From the first was descended
the great Harald Hilditonn, who was defeated by his kins-
man Sigurd Hring at the Bravalla battle. From the second
was descended Harald Fairhair, the ancestor of the Dukes
of Normandy, and so indirectly of Queen Victoria. " All
who are truly wise in events know that the Tyrkjar and
Asia-men settled in the northern lands. Then began
the tongue which has since spread over all lands. The
leader of these people was called Odin, and to him men
trace their families." (Sfamimig's Saga.)

The rather mythical genealogy of Ynglingatal com-
posed for the uncle of Harald Fairhair traces the family
through thirty generations up to Odin, and, being pro-
bably composed a little after 900, it would make Odin
live about 100 before Christ.

TRONDHJEM AND ITS KINGS

201

Thus the Skjoldunga Branch began with —

Odin Asa King.

Skjbld.

Fridleif.

Fridfrode.

Fridleif.

Havar the Hand-strong.

Frodi.

Vermund the Wise.
Olaf the Humble.
Dan the Proud.
Frodi the Peaceful.

Fridleif.

Frodi the Valiant.

I

Ingjal.

Hroerek Ringeng-
gard.

Frodi.

Halfdan.

Hroerek Ring-
thrower.

Harald Hilditonn.

Halfdan.
Helgi.

Hrolf Kraki.
Hroar.

Valdar the Mild.
Harald the Old.
Halfdan the Valiant.
Ivar Vidfadmi.
Aud, the \

Deep-mindedJ

fl, Hroerek Ring-thrower.
'\2. Rand bard.

Randver.
Sigurd Hring.
Ragnar Lodbrok.
Sigurd Snake-eye.

Aslang.
Sigurd Hart.
Ragnhild.
Harald Fairhair.

(Grey

Harald Fairhair
Eirik Bloodaxe
Hakon the Good
Harald Grafeld

skin)
Olaf Tryggvason .
Hakon Jarl the Great
Eirik Jarl .
St. Olaf

Reigned A.D.
860-930

930-934
934-960

960-965

965-995

995-1000

1000-1015

1015-1028

Reigned A.D.

Knut the Great . . 1028-1035

Magnus the Good . 1035-1047

Harald Hardradi . . 1047-1066
Olaf "the Peaceful"

Kyeri . . , 1066- 1093

Magnus Barefoot . . 1093-1103

(Three sons — Eystein,

Olaf, Sigurd.)

Jarsalafari . . . 1103-I130
Civil War— Harald Gilli,

Magnus the Blind,

and others . . 11 30-1 162

Magnus Erlingsson . 11 62-1 184

Civil Wars . . . 1184-1217

Haakon Haakonsscin . 12 17-1263

Magnus Lagaboter . 1263-12S0

Eric Magnusson . . 1280- 1299

Haakon Magnusson . 1299-13 19

(No male issue)

Transition to the Union : Magnus Smek, by Ingeborg Haakon's
daughter and the Swedish Duke Eric ....

1319

202 HARALD'S VOW

Harald Harfagre, or Fair-Haired Harald, also called
Lufa, or the Thick-Haired, was born about the year 850,
and was the son of Halfdan the Black, King of Upland,
an inconsiderable district in Norway. By the mother's
side he was descended from Ragnar Ladbrok and the
renowned Siguard the Serpent- killer. When he was
ten years of age his father died, and he became King of
the little district of Upland. For some years his affairs
were managed by Guthorus, his mother's brother, but
when he was about eighteen he took everything into
his own hands. Harald was tall and athletic, — of an
exceedingly handsome countenance, bold and daring,
and of a mind of great ambition. At that time there
was no universal King in Norway, almost every district
being governed by its own petty sovereign or head-
man, under whom the people enjoyed their othul, or
right of the soil, merely paying a slight tribute to the
ruler.

This state of things, however, was not destined to
continue. No sooner had Harald become his own master
than he made a vow to Odin that he would neither cut
nor comb his hair till he had made himself sole King of
the country, and absolute lord of the lives and property
of the inhabitants.

Harald Harfagre had first to secure the kingdom he
had inherited from his father, and thereupon crossed the
Dovre Mountains to Trondhjem, where he took up his
abode in this well-populated community. All this he
accomplished in a few years by dauntless bravery, force
of character, and terrible severity. In some instances
he experienced a desperate resistance, but he never lost
a battle. His hardest conflict was the sea fight at Hafirs-
firth, in which he encountered several confederated kings.
In this he was hard pressed, and would probably have

THE NORMAN MARCH 203

been worsted but for the fall of Haklangr, or Longehiii,
the principal leader of the opposite party, a man of
great courage and immense strength. This battle was
decisive, for after it Harald was sole master of Norway,
from the inhabitants of which he took their cherished
othul, reducing them to the condition of bondsmen or
servants, Harald was satisfied with being King of
Norway, but the effects of what he did were by no means
confined to that country.

Perhaps the actions of few or none have had so much
influence on the affairs of Europe as those of Hai'ald
Harfagre. He was the principal cause and originator of
what may be called the Norman March. Terra North-
mannorum, occupied in the early part of the tenth century
by the Northmen, whose name was on Gaelic soil gradu-
ally changed to Norman Rollo or Rolf, settled at Rouen,
embraced Christianity, and became the Carlovingian King's
man. The Viking leader received a grant from Charles
the Simple of all the land between Dive and the River
Epte. He was called " Princeps Northmannorum," or
sometimes " Dux piratarum."

A nobility gradually sprang up consisting chiefly, it
would seem, of those who could claim any kind of kindred,
legitimate or illegitimate, with the ducal house. Some
of the greatest Norman houses sprang from kinsfolk of
wives or mistresses of the dukes, who were themselves
of very low degree. The Cotentin Avith the Channel
Islands seems to have been added in the time of the
second duke, William Longsword, about 927. It appears
that though the East Normans were Christians and spoke
French, the coast folk were mostly heathen and Scandi-
navian.

Richard the Fearless was the son of William by a
Breton mother, who stood in the doubtful relationship

204 ROLF GANGER

called a Danish marriage. He reigned fifty years, then
there came a second, and a third Richard, and then a
Robert who was the father of our William the Con-
queror.

The Viking Rolf Ganger, the founder of the Norman
settlement, was one of that magnificent race of men of
the old North whom popular histories include in the
common name of Danes. They replunged into barbarism
the nations over which they swept ; but from their barbar-
ism they reproduced the noblest elements of civilisa-
tion, and were wonderfully pliable and malleable in their
admixtures Avith the peoples they overran. Frankes, the
Archbishop, baptized Rolf Ganger, and this is the reason
why the Normans lost their old names in their conversion
to Christianity,

Thus Charles the Simple insists that Rolf Ganger shall
change his creed and his name, and Rolf or Rou is
christened Robert, and within a little more than a century
afterwards the descendants of these terrible heathens,
who had spared neither priest nor altar, were the most
redoubtable defenders of the Christian Church, — their
old language forgotten save by a few in the town of
Bayeux, their ancestral names save amongst a few of the
noblest changed into French. And all the while in my
head runs " The Ballad of Rou "—

" From Blois to Senlis, wave by wave, roll'd on the Norman

flood,
And Frank on Frank went drifting down the weltering tide of

blood.
There was not left in all the land a castle wall to fire,
And not a wife but wailed a lord, a child but mourned a sire.
To Charles the King, the mitred monks, the mailed Barons

flew,
While, shaking earth, behind them strode the thunder march of

Rou.

"THE BALLAD OF ROU" 205

*0 King,* then cried these Barons bold, 'in vain are mace

and mail,
We fall before the Norman axe, as corn before the hail.'
'And vainly,' cried the pious monks, 'by Mary's shrine we

kneel.
For prayers, like arrows, glance aside against the Norman steel.'
The Barons groaned, the shavelings wept, while near and

nearer drew.
As death-birds round their scented feast, the raven flags of

Rou. . . .

Psalm-chanting came the shaven monks, within the camp of

dread ;
Amidst his warriors, Norman Rou stood taller by the head ;
Out spoke the Frank Archbishop then, a priest devout and

sage :
'When peace and plenty wait thy word, what need of war and

rage?
Why waste a land as fair as aught beneath the arch of blue.
Which might be thine to sow and reap?' thus saith the

King to Rou.

' I'll give thee all the ocean coast, from Michael Mount to

Eure,
And Gille, my fairest child, as bride, to bind thee fast and sure ;
If thou but kneel to Christ our God, and sheathe thy paynim

sword.
And hold thy land, the Church's son, a fief from Charles thy

lord.'
The Norman on his warriors looked — to counsel they withdrew ;
The saints took pity on the Franks, and moved the soul of Rou.

So back he strode and thus he spoke to that Archbishop meek :
* I take the land thy King bestows, from Eure to Michael-peak,
I take the maid, foul or fair, a bargain with the coast ;
And for thy creed, a sea-king's gods are those that give the

most, —
So hie thee back and tell thy chief to make his proffer true.
And he shall find a docile son, and ye a saint in Rou.

206 THE NORMAN FLOOD

So o'er the border stream of Epte came Rou the Norman, where,
Begirt with Barons, sat the King, enthroned at green St. Clair ;
He placed his hand in Charles' hand, — loud shouted all the

throng,
But tears were in King Charles' eyes, — the grip of Rou was strong.
' Now kiss the foot,' the Bishop said, — ' that homage still is

due' ;
Then dark the frown and stern the smile of that grim convert,

Rou.

He takes the foot, as if the foot to slavish lips to bring :

The Normans scowl, he tilts the throne, and backwards falls

the King.
Loud laugh the joyous Norman men — pale stare the Franks

aghast ;
And Rou lifts up his head as from the wind springs up the

mast :
' I said I would adore a God, but not a mortal too,
The foot that fled before a foe let cowards kiss ! ' said Rou."

The people of Norway in general submitted to the
sway of Harald, and several of the petty Kings were
glad to become his earls and land-warders, but there
were proud, indomitable spirits both amongst the
peasants and the chieftains \vho disdained to be en-
thralled by him. Many repaired to Iceland, which had
been discovered by one Gardr at an early period of his
reign, and colonised it ; others betook themselves to the
Faroe and the Shetland and Orkney Isles, where they
formed piratical establishments ; others to the Sotherics
and Isle of Man, of all which islands they became masters
— thousands went to Ireland, where they founded Dublin.
Immense numbers, too, to that part of England which is
north of the Humber, which they entirely took possession
of. The elite, however, of the discontented Norsemen
repaired to France, a part of which they conquered and
occupied, and named after themselves Normandy, or the

HARALD HARFAGRE 207

land of the Normans, where, from the relations which
they formed with the women of the country, a race
sprang up which in course of time subdued England,
Naples, and Sicily, giving kings of the Norman race to
all three.

Harald's life after he had become monarch was
tolerably tranquil. Any insurrections against him he
speedily put down by means of his hirdlid, — an armed
force which he always kept about him, consisting of
about four hundred of the tallest and strongest fellows
whom he could induce to serve him. To these he was
very liberal in clothes, bracelets, armour, and coin ; but
it was said of him, during his life and long after his
death, that though he was free of gold he was rather
stingy of meat. He had several places of residence, but
his favourite one was Rogaland in Utstein.

He married Ragnhilda, daughter of the King of
Jutland. By this Ragnhilda he had Eirik, surnamed
Blood-axe, from his desperate deeds in war, to whom
he bequeathed the sceptre of Norway at his death. He
lived and died a believer in the religion of Odin, Thor,
and Frey — a religion of blood and horror — the votaries
of which held two great festivals in the year, one at
Yule or Midwinter, and the other at Haust or Harvest,
at which they drank ale and ate horse flesh in honour
of the gods. He was very fond of poetry, and generally
had several skalds about him, who sang his praises in
alliterative verse The achievement of Harald Harfagre
made itself apparent in the growing consciousness in the
mind of the nation that it constituted one people.

He died at the age of eighty -three, after having been
King seventy-three years, and absolute sovereign of
Norway about fifty-eight. He was a contemporary of
Alfred the Great, his son Edward, and his grandson

2o8 HAAKON THE GOOD CHRISTIAN

Athelstane, to the last of whom he sent his son Haakon
to be fostered. This child, born to him in his old age,
and who eventually became King of Norway, was the
first Christian ruler of that country.

Erik Blodoks (Bloody-axe) reigned but a short time,
having to yield the throne to his youngest brother
Haakon, who had been brought up in England by King
Athelstane, and was supported by the Tronders.

" Haakon was a good Christian when he came to
Norway ; but as all the land was heathen, and there was
much sacrificing and many chiefs, and he much needed
the help and friendship of the people, he decided to
conceal his Christianity, and kept Sundays, and fasting
on Fridays, and the greatest festivals. He made it a
law that the Yule should begin at the same time as
that of the Christians, and that every man should have
a certain measure of ale or pay a fine, and keep the
days holy while Yule lasted. It formerly began on
the mid-winter night, and it was kept for three nights.
He wanted to make the people Christians when he got
established in the land and had fully subjected it to
himself. He sent to England for a bishop and other
priests. When they came to Norway, Haakon made
known that he would try to Christianise the land."
{Haakon the Good's Saga : Fornmanna Sogiir^ i.)

Haakon's reign was marked by a series of meritorious
reforms. The old Thing Association of the Tronders
was extended by the union with it of several shires ;
and the common Thing place was now removed to
Frosta. The Orething, however, continued to exist as
well, and it came to have a special importance as the
place where the oath of allegiance to the Norwegian
Kings was taken. The defence of the country was also
now organised by the imposition of a levy which obliged

OLAF TRYGGVASON 209

the yeomen in the coast districts to equip and man
warships. Haakon, who was honoured by his people
with the surname of The Good, fell in 961 while de-
fending his country against the sons of Erik Blodoks.
After the brothers had governed cruelly for nine years
the eldest of them, Harald Graafeld (Greyskin), was
assassinated in Denmark, whereupon the others were
obliged to yield to Earl Haakon, chief of the Tronders.
Baptized under compulsion, he remained a fanatical
heathen, and by cruelty alienated the affections of his
people. They rose against him, and he was murdered,
while fleeing, by a thrall who accompanied him.

Just at this time came Olaf Tryggvason, a descendant
of Harald Harfagre, who was immediately chosen King
by the Tronders. Olaf is one of the most brilliant
figures in Norwegian history ; after a romantic boyhood
he had distinguished himself as leader of a Viking army
that had ravaged England. Immediately before his
coming to Norway he had embraced Christianity, and
now, after becoming King of the country, he began to
enforce the adoption of the Christian faith ; but this
was done in many cases by fear and cruelty, as Olaf
Tryggvason's Saga shows.

" Olaf Tryggvason and Bishop Sigurd both went with
many warships to Godey (God isle), where Rand the
Strong, a man of sacrifices, lived. Olaf attacked the
loft where Rand slept, and broke it and went in.
Rand was taken and tied, and of the men there, some
were killed and others taken. Rand was led before
the King, who bade him let himself be baptized.
' Then,' said the King, ' I will not take thy property,
but be thy friend, if thou wilt do this.' Rand cried
out against this, and said he never would believe in
Christ, and blasphemed much. The King grew angry,
14

210 H ALFRED THE SCALD

and said Rand should die the most hideous death. He
had him taken out and lashed to a beam, a stick was
placed between his teeth to force open his mouth in
which a snake was placed ; but it would not go in,
and recoiled, because he blew against it. Then the
King had a stalk of angelica put in Rand's mouth,
with the snake in it ; he had a red-hot bar put on the
outside of it. The snake recoiled into the mouth of
Rand, and down his throat, and ate its way out of
his side, and Rand died. The King took thence a
large quantity of gold and silver and other loose
property, weapons, and many costly things. He had
slain or tortured all those of Rand's men who would
not be baptized" (c. 87). The Halfred Saga also
shows how hard it was for some men to give up the
old faith. Halfred, who had been baptized, asked King
Olaf Tryggvason to hear a song, which at first the
King declined to do, as too heathen for him, but re-
lenting, Halfred sang —

" Of yore I worshipped well
Him the bold-minded,
Lord of Hlidskjalf (Odin),
The luck of men changes."

The King said : " This is a very bad stanza ; thou must
improve it."

" Every kindred has made songs
To win the love of Odin ;
I remember the songs
Of the men of our time.

But because I love Christ
I must hate against my will
The first husband of Frigg (Odin),
For his power I liked well."

HIS SOiNG OF THE HEATHEN GODS 211

The King replied : " The gods dwell much in thy
mind, and I do not like it."

"Enricher of men, I forsake
The god-name of the raven-worshipper,
Who in heathendom performed
A trick praised by the people."

"This makes it no better; make a stanza to mend
this."

" Fry and Freyja and the strong Thor
Ought to be angry with me ;
I forsake the offspring of Njord,
The angry (gods) may be friends with Grimmir (Odin).

I will call on Christ, for all love
The only Father and God ;
The anger of the son I dislike :
He is the famous ruler of earth."

" This is a good song, and better than none ; sing
more."

" It is the custom with the Sygna King
To forbid sacrifices ;
We must shun most of
The time-honoured dooms of the Norner ;

All men throw

The kindred of Odin to the winds ;
Now I am forced to pray to Christ,
And leave the offspring of Njord."

The conversion to Christianity did not always have
a softening influence. Thus Olaf had in the course of
a few years, in true Viking fashion, brought the popula-
tion of the entire coast, from Viken up to the borders
of Finmarken, under the dominion of " the white Christ."
Olaf was attacked by an army of superior force that
had been gathered against him by Earl Haakon's son.

212 SAINT OLAF?

Erik, the Swedish King Olaf Skotkonung, and the
Danish King Svend Tjugeskaeg. His men were nearly
all killed, and he himself, mortally womided, sought a
grave beneath the waves. Norway was then divided
between the Danish and Swedish Kings and Earl Erik ;
but the Kings gave up their shares to Erik and his
brother Svein, who governed them as their vassals.

When the Danish King Knut the Great went to
invade England he called upon Earl Erik to help him.
The Earl obeyed, and never saw Norway again. In the
spring of 1015 Olaf Haraldsson, a descendant of Harald
Harfagre, returned to Norway from a Viking expedi-
tion. He determined to carry on the life-work of his
kinsman, Olaf Tryggvason, and here in Trondhjem
homage was done to him as King of Norway.

Olaf brought the little Upland Kings under the
Norwegian dominion, and sought in every way to place
the long-inherited power of the great chieftains under
that of the King. But by his hard-handed policy Olaf
Haraldsson soon aroused a strong opposition against
himself. The rebels sought the aid of the Danish King
Knut the Great, who came with an army to Norway in
1028 and received homage at Orething. Olaf fled to
Russia, and when, some time after, he attempted to win
back his kingdom he was slain by the chieftains at
Stiklestad in Vardalen in July 1030. Not long after he
was regarded as a holy man. This saint was a most
ruthless persecutor of his forefathers"' faith, and a most
unqualified practical assertor of his heathen privilege.
And he extended his domestic affections beyond the severe
pale which should have confined them to a single wife.
He died as he had wished to die, with the soothing con-
viction that the Valkyrs would bear him to Valhalla. One
wonders if Saint Olaf was not really heathen after all.

MAGNUS AND HARALD HAARDRADA 213

It is not without reason that the century which now
folloAved, after Olaf s son Magnus had ascended the
throne in 1035, has been called the period of Norway's
greatness. The kingdom was now, by the unity brought
about between the royal power and the aristocracy,
enabled to extend its influence to the world around.
Magnus became also by inheritance King of Denmark,
but after his death that kingdom passed into the hands
of Svend Estridsson, although Magnus's successor Harald
Haardrada, brother to Olaf the Holy, laid claim to it
by force of arms.

Snorro Sturleson gives us a noble and spirited reply
of the Confessor to Magnus, who as heir of Knut claimed
the English crown. It concludes thus : " Now, he
(Hardicanute) died, and then it was the resolution of
all the people of the country to take me for the King
here in England. So long as I had no kingly title I
served my superiors in all respects like those who had
no claims by birth to land or kingdom. Now, however,
I have received the kingly title, and am consecrated
King ; I have established my royal dignity and authority,
as my father before me ; and while I live I will not
renounce my title. If King Magnus comes here with
an army, I will gather no army against him, but he
shall only get the opportunity of taking England
when he has taken my life. Tell him these words of
mine."

True hero of the North, true darling of war and of
song was Harald Haardrada ! At the terrible battle of
Stiklestad at which his brother St. Olaf was killed, he
was but fifteen, but his body was covered with the wounds
of a veteran. He lay concealed in the house of a Bonder
peasant, remote in deep forests, till his wounds were
healed. Chanting by the way, he went on into Sweden,

214 THE VAERINGERS

thence into Russia, and, after wild adventures in the
East, joined, with the bold troop he had collected
round him, that famous bodyguard of the Greek
emperors called the Vaeringers, of which he became the
chief.

Jealousies between himself and the Greek General
of the imperial forces ended in Harald's retirement with
his Vaeringers into the Saracen land of Africa. Eighty
castles stormed and taken, vast plunder in gold and
jewels, and nobler meed in the song of the scald and
the praise of the brave attested the prowess of the
great Scandinavian. New laurels awaited him in Sicily.
Rough foretype of the coming crusader, he passed on
to Jerusalem. He bathed in Jordan, and knelt at the
Holy Cross. Returning to Constantinople, the desire
for his northern home seized him. There he heard that
Magnus, the illegitimate son of St. Olaf, had become King
of Norway. He sailed home to the North, and after
such feats as became a sea king of old received half of
Norway from Magnus, on whose death the whole of the
kingdom passed to his sway.

This was the King to whom came Tostig the Earl,
with the offer of England's crown. This was the man
to whom our English Harald offered seven feet of land
for a grave, " or as much more as his stature exceeding
that of other men might require." Harald Haardrada
died at Stamford Bridge. In his death died the last
hope of the Vikings, and the bones of the invaders
whitened the field of battle for many years afterwards.

The efforts of his grandson Magnus, nicknamed
Barefoot, were directed towards the amalgamation of
the Norwegian settlements on the islands off the coast
of Scotland and others into one kingdom. Magnus
fell during a descent upon Ireland. A few years after-

PEACEFUL KINGS OLAF AND EYSTEIN 215

wards his son Sigurd set off on a crusade to the Holy
Land, where in 1110 he took the strong town of
Sidon.

It was during the reigns of the peaceful kings Olaf
Kyree and Ejstein Magnusson that Bergen was founded
as a centre for trade with England.

After Sigurd's death in 1130 came a period of a hundred
and ten years, that was occupied with fights amongst
the descendants of Magnus Barefoofs sons, fostered and
encouraged at one time by the aristocracy, at another
by the clergy, more especially Archbishop Eystein, who
had so much to do in the building of the cathedral : it
was a question of Church against Crown.

In 1164 Magnus Erlingsson, who was then a child, had
been crowned by the Archbishop, after his father, the
chieftain Erling Skakke, had promised on his behalf
that the kingdom should be subject to St. Olaf, and
that after the King's death the crown should be given
as an offering to that saint. At the same time a change
was made in the public law of the kingdom, which would
have given the Bishop the power to nominate the future
King. After Ey stein's death his successor continued
the struggle, but King Sverre compelled him to leave
the country. The King in return was put under the
Pope's ban. Dm'ing the struggle King Sverre died, and
it was his grandson, Haakon Haakonsson, who became
King in 1217, and crushed the faction raised by the
clergy.

Then again Norway throve and flourished for another
eighty years, during Haakon's reign and that of his son
Magnus Lagaboter (the Law Mender) and his sons
Eirik and Haakon. To the latter the French King
Louis IX. offered the supreme command in a crusade.
Iceland and Greenland also became subject to his

2i6 TROUBLOUS TIMES

dominion. He died during the winter in the Orkneys,
when the Scottish King attacked the Hebrides in
1263.

Haakon v. succeeded him in 1299, and at his death
the male descendants of Harald Harfagre became
extinct. The daughter of Haakon Magnusson married a
Swedish duke, Erik, and her son Magnus Smek was elected
King of Sweden as well as Norway in 1319. Denmark
was joined to the two kingdoms in 1395 by the election
of Erik.

Troublous times then came to the North. The Ger-
mans practically ruled the commerce of the country,
and in other matters also had the game in their
own hands. Fresh misfortunes in the shape of plague
and death overtook them in 1349, 1360, and 1371.
From 1397 to 1450 Norway played a subordinate
part, while yet continuing to be an independent
kingdom.

King Christian iii., after the coup (Tetat in 1536,
promised much, but did little. One thing, however,
which he did remains good to this day. This was
the Norwegian naval defence, which was organised by
royal command and kept up. In 1628, supported by the
old regulations regarding the military defence of the
country, there was further established a national standing
army.

Under Christian iv. Norway was once more aroused to
an independent existence by the rapidly growing prosperity
of trade; but in 1658, by the cession of the district of
Trondhjem owing to the unhappy wars waged with Sweden,
when several of the best districts had to be relinquished,
her condition was almost total dissolution.

The Norwegian laws of Christian v. improved the
situation. Two wars — the Gyldenlone War, 1675-1679,

BERNADOTTE 217

and the great Northern War, 1709-1720 — in which the
young and intrepid naval hero, Peter Wessel, who was
raised to the nobihty under the name of Tordenskjold,
won great renown, shed a lustre over army and
fleet.

After 1720 its prosperity grew continually. New towns
sprang up and the population increased. An armed
neutrality was concluded with Sweden and Russia, and
under its protection trade and navigation attained a
hitherto unknown level. Then came a brief war with
England, and the battle of Copenhagen was fought. The
British captured the Dano-Norwegian fleet and plundered
the dockyards, and it was English action which drove the
Crown Prince into the arms of Napoleon. No grudge
seems to be felt about it now. The Norwegian greets
one as a friend, and his handshake is as cordial as though
we had never been foes.

In 1814 the Powers compelled Denmark to cede Norway
to Sweden. At that time the Norwegian Diet elected
as King of Norway the Danish Prince who was acting
as Viceroy, and voted a Constitution. Bernadotte, Crown
Prince of Sweden, invaded Norway, and war thus began ;
but as the Great Powers were all against Norway, the
Danish Prince resigned the throne, and the Diet accepted
the arrangement made by the Powers, but induced the
King of Sweden to accept its Constitution. The two
countries from that time each had its own Constitution
and Government, but a common sovereign had control
in matters of war and diplomacy.

Bernadotte, when he succeeded to the throne, found
himself in constant conflict with the Norwegian Diet,
a conflict in which the Diet in the long run was successful.

He dissolved the Storthing or Diet, which was held by
the Norwegians to be an unconstitutional act, and opposed

21 8 THE STORTHING

the abolition of the nobility, which the Storthing voted
three times at intervals of three years, the method laid
down by the Constitution for legislation, in despite of the
royal veto.

In 18G9 the session of the Storthing was made annual,
and in 1872, on the accession of King Oscar ii., a constitu-
tional conflict began which was in due time to become
national rather than constitutional. The substance of
the dispute was over the responsibility of the Ministers
to the Storthing. The Bill by which they were admitted
to its sessions was passed the three necessary times, but
in each case vetoed by the King. The Storthing then
impeached the Ministers for advising the King to refuse
his sanction to an amendment of the Constitution which
had duly become law. The Ministers were found guilty
and dismissed, and at length the King invited the leader
of the majority in the Storthing to form a Ministry.
This was in 1884. It established in Norway the constitu-
tional principle and practice which prevailed in Great
Britain.

Seven years later began the nationalist movement
for the creation of a Norwegian Ministry of Foreign
Affairs and the appointment of Norwegian Consuls. How
the dispute on these matters developed until it led to the
separation of the two countries and the independence
of Norway is fresh in every one's recollection.

After the agreement for the separation of the two
countries had been confirmed the proposal to offer the
Norwegian Crown to Prince Charles of Denmark was
submitted to a popular vote, with the result that on
Friday, 17th November, 259,563 votes were recorded in
favour of the proposal, and only 69,264 against it. So
on Saturday the Storthing met, and by a unanimous vote
elected Prince Charles,

KING HAAKON VII 219

King Haakon is the constitutional King of the most
democratic country in Europe. Its population of two
and a quarter millions is about the same number as that
of the kingdom of Greece, and is mainly composed of
peasants owning their own land — merchants, traders,
workmen, and sailors. Though the country is not rich
it is prosperous, its annual expenditure being only about
five millions sterling.

The Norwegians have in proportion to population the
most highly developed mercantile marine in the world,
and in actual tonnage the fourth, it being surpassed only
by those of Great Britain, the United States, and Germany.
The people are well educated, having compulsory ele-
mentary education to the age of fourteen. Their country's
history is that of enterprise and manliness from the time
of the earliest records. To be the freely chosen king of
such a people is an honour of which any prince in the
world might be proud.

Doctor Nansen has been appointed the first Nor-
wegian Minister to the Court of St, James's. Doctor
Nansen has played a prominent part in the affairs of
Norway since he returned from his trip " Farthest North."
His views on recent events are indicated in a letter which
he wrote last April : " Norway's course is clear ahead ;
we value an intimate and sincere friendship, and a strong
union with the Swedish people, but we value even more
highly our independence and our sovereignty as it is
assured us by our Constitution and by the Treaty of Union."

In 1814 a fundamental law was passed in which military
service was declared to be universal and personal. After
the union with Sweden, however, a great reduction was
made in the army, and most of the fortifications were
vacated. The present complete organisation only goes
back to the Conscription Act of 1885,

220 MILITARY SERVICE

Every able-bodied Norwegian, except he be a member
of the clergy or a pilot, is liable to service, and may be
employed in any position for which he is best suited.
Seamen and fishermen serve in the Navy, artisans as far
as possible in their own departments, students in medicine
serve in field hospitals, and the countrymen used to
horses go into the cavalry. Men are enrolled when they
are twenty-two, and they are on the army list for sixteen
years. First there is six years in the line, the first year
of which the infantry recruit does forty-eight days'* drill
and twenty-four days' battalion exercise. In the following
years this is continued, so that the total training lasts
nearly five months spread over four years. The cavalry
man serves nearly seven months and the engineer six,
spread over five years. Then comes the second term of
six years in the landwern, with much fewer drills ; and
last, there is a term of four years in the landstorm. These
three classes are called opbuds ; they are all of equal
strength, having the same number of battalions, squadrons,
etc. According to the fundamental law, the line only
can be employed outside the country. The training
is not carried on in the barrack square, but in camps of
exercise spread over the different districts in summer
time. The annual number of recruits to the army is
about 11,000, and Norway is able to raise by mobilisation :
the line army about 26,000 men for service abroad ; the
militia army of more than 25,000 ; and last, the landstorm
25,000 ; coast artillery, 4500. So that altogether there
are about 80,000 men ready to defend their own
country.

In April 1906 the Norwegian Government decided
to bring in a Bill for the organisation of a new army, and
an estimate amounting to 12,541,000 kroner (i?696,720)
for this purpose. The proposed legislation provided that

< pi

— 2

X. f^
- 3

THE NEW MILITIA 221

the troops of the line should be composed of twelve
annual levies of militia and of six annual levies, as compared
with the present four, of all other men from eighteen to
fifty years of age who are capable of bearing arms. In
the new militia the old regimental division will be reintro-
duced, each regiment having three battalions. The troops
of the line will consist of fourteen regiments, and the
cavalry wall be composed of fifteen squadrons. The
mountain artillery will be transferred to Tromso. The
length of service will be unchanged. New gendarmerie
and scouting corps will also be established for service in
peace time. Mr. Dahl, the son of the painter at Balholm,
was doing his course in the army when I met him,
and I am indebted to his kindness for the details here
given.

CHAPTER XII

TORGHATTEN— MRS PILOT— NARVIK— LOFOTENS
— TROMSO AND LYNGEN

THE lunch bugle had sounded, all were in their
places, when the word went round that Torghatten
was nearly abreast. One by one we left our seats, with
a little deprecating glance at the steward, who, we well
knew, would stand patiently till our return, and he, poor
fellow, at the same time realising that he would sit down
late to his own dinner. Passengers are selfish people in
the main, but after all there is only one Torghatten, with
an opening 407 feet above the sea, 535 feet long, and
about 40 broad, the daylight visible clear through the
body of the mountain. Pontoppidan, who evidently
wore magnifying glasses when measuring sea serpents,
must have had the same pair on when gazing at
Torghatten, as he states that it is 6000 feet long and
300 feet hiy;h — a slight difference from Baedeker's com-
putation.

We waited what seemed a long time before the first
little streak of daylight became visible through the great
hat-shaped rock. " There ! there ! do you see, close to
that light patch." " No, not there — you see that black
streak, well, just by the black streak comes a lighter
patch, well there," " Yes, I see ! " Slowly the aperture
widened till it looked as if a great bullet had passed
straight through, leaving a round hole of daylight.

222

HESTMANN AND THE SISTERS 223

Beyond this the scenery of the coast is magnificent, great
chains of mountains rise with craggy peaks and snowy sides.

The Seven Sisters still stand in a row petrified with
horror at the fate of their cousin the fair Jutala, her
brother, and her lover the mounted Hestmann. He
has his martial cloak thrown round him, and now marks
the crossing of the Arctic circle. I did not know the
story when we passed, but since then have come across
a sailor's yarn, which may be believed or not as the
reader likes best. "One day a young 'jutal,' or devil-
kin, living in the neighbourhood took a fancy to visit
his Seven Sisters, unluckily for them all ; a distant cousin,
whose home was on an island farther south, was staying
with them at the time.

" As is usual on such occasions, the two young people
fell desperately in love with each other, and, as is also
usual, vowed eternal fidelity. Business of importance
called the giant home. His fair cousin returned also to
attend on a sick brother. With tears and vows and
many protestations they mutually tore themselves
asunder, and the Seven Sisters found the poor lady
swooning on the shore from which her lover had departed.
She went home to her sick brother and nursed him
tenderly, and, finding him in gentle mood, made him her
confidant, and he agreed that she should maiTy the jutal
of her choice. On his recovery his perverse nature re-
gained its wonted sway. He determined that his sister
should wed a dissolute companion of his, whom she
hated.

" Now you must know that every jutal family had some
special power or malignant charm by which to battle
with their enemies. The speciality of this family was
petrifaction. The cruel brother exercised that power
on the lover's messengers, and turned them all into rocks.

224 THE BOLT THAT SPED

Now, the devilkin was not aware of this brother''s
existence, the fair giantess having concealed the fact on
account of his extravagant habits. BeHeving thus that
his phghted one was the last of her race, and that she
alone possessed the power of petrifaction, he concluded
she had put the stony insult on him. Mounting his
steed, and shouldering his crossbow, he shot a heavy
bolt at the dwelling of the jutaless. His special power
was an uneiTing aim. Her brother was bathing at the
time, and it being a very wet morning, he wore his sou'-
wester, others say his market hat. The bolt sped through
seventy miles of air, passed through the hat of the
treacherous jutal, and, caiTying away a portion of his
skull, fell at his fair one's feet. She knew the bolt,
and that none but he could have shot it. She saw her
brother sinking beneath the waves, never to rise again.
All that remained of him for her loving eyes to gaze
upon was his perforated hat floating on the waters.
She thought of the perfidy of the lover she believed so
true, and her heart was broken ; but as she died she
exercised her power of petrifaction. Her lover and
the horse he rode, herself, and the floating hat she turned
to stone."

Those who doubt the foregoing should go to the spot.
There is the mounted Hestmann, there is the perforated
sou'-wester, and beyond it the drooping fair one, all turned
to stone. There are the messengers, a long procession of
low rocky islands, reaching from the Hestmann to his love,
and there are the Seven Sisters in stony stillness looking
on.

As we steam along the coast the great inland chain
of snowy mountains comes in view. The valleys, descend-
ing, can be seen, with a telescope, filled with glaciers,
from the Svartisen above. This is an enormous expanse

THE PILOT'S WIFE 225

of snow and ice, resembling the Justedal and the Folge-
fond, Svartisen covers a plateau about 4000 feet in
height.

Then on we went, by a smiling island, where Captain
Thompson, who is nothing if not kind, slowed, as a
homestead came in view. A big white farmhouse, with
outbuildings, stood in some acres of the greenest of grass,
with a little pier jutting into the water, alongside of
which lay a boat. From afar, as we threaded our way up
the fjord, the pilot had had his glasses turned on this spot,
that was home to him. The steamer's great throttle sent
out a mighty hoot. No one appeared. The next hoot
brought a boy to the pier, who let go the boat's painter ;
and the third hoot brought Madam herself, hastily
buttoning her bodice. She was a stout lady, fair-haired
and comely. Our captain shook his head as he remarked,
" I won't wait for her another time. A year ago now,
when I first slowed, she was waiting in mid-stream. The
next, she was just coming down the jetty ; and this time
I have had to wait. I won't wait again, I can tell
her."

The meeting did not seem to move the pilot much; I felt
as though we should not look. The moment the boat
was alongside, the pilot had climbed down the Jacob's
ladder, and with a spring was on board, stooping to kiss
the small child. She pulled her face away. He desisted
at once, took his wife's hand and said a few words to
her, with his eyes fixed on her face. One hand-shake,
and he was again on the ladder. The small boy pulled
off, and poor Madam, shading her eyes with one hand,
waved the other. This was all, after six months'
separation !

The Lofotens, the group of islands we were now
approaching, lie somewhat to the north of the polar
15

226 LOFOTEN ISLANDS

circle, and consist of eruptive rocks. Only a few years
ago it was found that the islands were not only granite
and syenite, as was believed, but that they were formed
to a great extent of gabbro and kindred rocks.

Towards midnight the sky that had been gradually
getting yellow seemed to glow. Shade after shade, each
more intense than the other, followed, till the whole
heaven was a vivid flame colour reddening as it neared
the peaks. The effect was glorious. Out of a blue
mist that hung along the sea rose the grandest cluster
of rugged granite. The mountains sprang up like a
range of phantoms 3000 to 4000 feet high, breaking
at their summits into countless multitudes of jagged
points. They looked like some great shark's jaw, of
a bluish tint at first, which gradually darkened, till
the whole was a black silhouette against the glowing
sky.

Passing through these Lofoten Islands, rising out
of the sea on one side, and the mighty mountain
ranges of the mainland on the other, was like steaming
right into the grandest fairy tales of the people,
more especially when the glow of the midnight sun
suffused with infinite splendour those parts of the
mountain on which it rested, leaving the other parts
in an inexpressible chill.

This is one picturesque side of the Lofotens, the
background to the mighty fishing industry that costs
more lives every year than if the country was in the
midst of war. To us, the suffering and privations, the
roughness of the living, and the cold of the water,
would seem hardships indeed ; but the Norseman has
won his adjective of "hardy." From near and far he
drifts to the fishing grounds, where, when all is said
and done, he makes but a poor living, earning but

HARDY NORSEMEN 227

Is. 6d. to Is. 9d. a day. For that he must catch
some four hundred cod to make what is considered a
good day's fishing ; this for a net and boat with two
hands. A line fisherman considers he has done well
if his catch amounts to two hundred. All along the
shore are the boat stations, havens with the necessary
buildings and stores. Lodgings are scarce for the men,
who during the first few months of the year number
some 40,000. Think what it must be to sleep standing
back to back, like herring in a barrel, in a close, stifling
atmosphere. Sometimes not even able to get that
amount of accommodation, the poor fellows have to
walk back to their open boats, their clothes frozen
stiff. Covering themselves with what odds and ends
they can find, they sleep, as only an overtired man
can. Small wonder that many a man and lad catches
his death of cold.

It seems to me that, like the lemming, these fishermen
cannot keep away from the call of the sea. Some prosaic
people say that it is the hope of great and immediate
profit that carries them through all discomforts and
dangers, and tempts generation after generation to
follow on the same path. I would rather be let to
think that it is the same call from the sea that their
Viking forefathers obeyed for centuries.

Not so very long ago they used to sail all the way
from their land-girt fjords to the great fishing ground.
Now boat and crew go by steamer, and once on board
the merry, exciting life begins. They meet friends and
comrades at the different stations, where old stories are
told and re-told, and old times revived by lively briny
conversation. Card-playing, betting and drinking take
place, and many dances with the girls, who on Sundays
come long distances for a swing round. These join

228 tOrfisk and klipfisk

the lasses who are employed gutting the fish. One
excellent rule obtains amongst these men. The best
man on board is chosen as skipper, never mind what
his status may be on shore, whether master or servant.
Even should the owner of the boat and gear accompany
it as one of the crew, he, like everyone else, is bound
to obey the skipper, who steers the boat and superintends
the fishing.

Up to a few years ago, the fishing was principally
carried on in open boats, but every year now sees
decked boats and smacks used in the deep-sea fishing.
In the newer boats the men can live on board, and find
shelter in the cabins. Acres and acres of rock are
covered with the split fish lying out to dry in the sun,
with here and there a stack ready for shipment. A
queer harvest it looks, that might easily be mistaken
for hayricks at a distance. Near to these stacks, and
drying acres, are huge boilers where the cod-livers
stew most odoriferously. The sight of the day is to
see the boats push off to sea and return in the evening.
Assembled in their hundreds, the men are as busy as
bees with their fishing tackle and gear awaiting the
signal. As soon as this is given they all push out to
sea together, for the various fishing grounds.

The preparation of salting cod was introduced by
English merchants in the seventeenth century, and
gradually outstripped the ancient product Torfisk. The
Klipfisk is split, salted, and dried on the ground.
Torfisk are gutted and hung in pairs by the tail, and
dried on wooden scaffolds called "hjell," seen continually
by the sides of the fjords. According to ancient rules,
no fish was to be hung on the hurdles before the 12th
of April, or taken down before the 12th of June.

Just to give an idea of the quantity of dried fish

WORLD'S CONSUMPTION OF DRIED FISH 229

exported, I quote one year's total from the official
publication : —

Klipfisk

To Spain 28,450 tons

„ Germany 8,720 ,,

,, Great Britain and Ireland . 5,620 ,,

„ Italy 1,940 „

„ Portugal and Madeira . . 2,450 „

TORFISK

To Sweden 2,320 tons

„ Italy and Austria . . , 4,950

„ Holland 3) 500

„ Germany 3,280

,, Great Britain and Ireland . 2,730

,, Russia and Finland . . . 850

„ Belgium 170

The weather, I think it must have been, that had
entered into the soul, and accounted for the sense of
rest and beauty that enveloped the world this perfect
morning. The air was gentle and warm, the sun was
shining on the beautiful white decks and the ship just
gliding through the glass-like water. There were no
more dark fjords with wall-like mountains. A broad
stretch of water lay shimmering before us ; the moun-
tains receded in the distance, their hollows, crannies,
and snows covered by a pale blue haze ; while the green
undulating land was more like our own rolling downs.
Add to this a pair of blue-tinted spectacles through
which Nature was looking this fair morning. Blue sky,
blue haze, blue mountains, and blue water, and if you
can, imagine the perfect day.

We w ere not the only people to feel it : a sense
of rest had come over the whole ship. Cook's agent
had no excursion. The Sund was shallow, and till the

230 VAAGS FJORD

tide was high there was not sufficient water for this
great ship, so she ghded on, barely ripphng the
fjord.

It was with much the same feehng as that of the boys
who on a very hot day lay in the shade of a tree and
ate apples, whilst the youngest was made to stand
in the sun by way of contrast, so that his heat and
weariness should make the others feel cooler and more
rested, that we on the ship, under the awnings, watched
Sambo, on one end of a long plank, on his back, washing
the bottom of one of the boats. Another black gentle-
man was at the other end, painting as if for a wager,
swinging his legs in time to a little chant that he sang.
Squatted on the deck was a Lascar, quietly chipping
the rust off a ring bolt, that had not escaped the first
officer's vigilant eye, and from the open windows of the
music-room came voices in unison. Right forward a
knot of people sat in comfortable attitudes on their
deck chairs, some with Baedeker's Guide open on their
knee, telling off" each rock, bay and mountain, as we
passed. Others worked at some little flippant piece
of sewing, just to say they were not idle ; and others
still lay well back, with cap pulled over their faces,
going back to everyday life, in the prosaic land of
Nod.

So we steamed through Vaags Fjord, into Solberg
Fjord, enjoying every inch of the way ; twisting and
turning through the narrow Gi Sund at the head of
the Solberg. Once again the mountains rose as we
passed the island of Senjen on our left, and crossed
the Malangen Fjord that ran athwart our course; then
on round the curve that leads to Tromso Sund.

A considerable tide was setting in, the buoys coming
up and passing quickly, with quite a ripple round them.

TROMSO 231

Here it was that one of the terrible maelstrom was
supposed to lead ships to their destruction. But this
whirlpool, like the sea serpent, has died a natural death.
The pilot scoffed at the idea, and suggested that this
useful knowledge was imported, as it was not to be
found on Norwegian charts. The stream is there, no
doubt, but to anyone used to the tide at the mouth of
Portsmouth harbour it seems but a sluggish cun-ent.

The streets of Tromso are in no way interesting. There
are some good fur shops, however. Evidently it is a
busy trading place, if one may judge by the many vessels
anchored there. Outside the town the green is luxuriant,
and inside every house has some attempt at window-
gardening. Geraniums, cacti, myrtles, and such - like
foreigners, bloom and flourish under careful tending.

According to the pilot, the growth is wonderful : birch
trees now in full leaf were quite bare only a couple of
weeks ago. There is no closing of the blossoms at night-
fall here, no vegetable repose, no halting of the upward
movement of the sap, but one unceasing development,
stimulated throughout by the continuous sunbeams.
Then comes the long, long winter's sleep, and darkness,
until the next short one-day summer awakens.

Tromso stands on the oldest rocks of the globe. The
anchorage where we now lay, in full sight of the town, was
snug and protected. Red-roofed houses and picturesque
groups of fishing cabins lined the water-side, jostling
the great warehouses and boat- builders'' yards. The
new moon stood over pink-flushed Bensjordtind. The
sea was calm ; the air still and warm ; the sky to the
south one bright luminous haze of purple and yellow.
The mountains and snow-wreaths glowed with that
strange rosy fire of which Alpine travellers rave.

Level northern rays threw long blue shadows on the

232 MIDNIGHT

quiet sound. The chatter of the gulls and the splashing
of the fish that rose and flickered all round us were the
only sounds that broke the silence. As the sun sailed
along the horizon the shadows wheeled, but the colours
remained. Sunset-glow deepened till it reached its
greatest depth ; then rosy sunrise gradually faded into
the bright light of a summer day. Thus visible all at
once from the ship's deck are evening and morning,
night and day, sunrise and sunset, seen together, though
definitely separated by the north midnight glow.

It was past eleven, and still the artist continued his
sketch ; midnight was going to strike as he lifted his head,
holding the water colour away from him, and remarked,
" I can't see as much as I did, so shall leave off." But
there were the last touches to put, and before these were
finished, the cooler grey of another day lit up the town.
Why there should be such differences I am not able to
say ; why the sun's rays in passing westward should tint
the sky with warm, languid, evening colours, while those
that at the same moment start upwards towards the
east should look so cool and grey and wakeful, I cannot
tell ; but here they are, side by side in unmistakable
contrast.

Palest blue sky without a cloud, and the jagged peaks
jut out of the snow wreaths, which curve and swell into
every possible fantastic shape. Out of each hollow in the
mountains the glaciers push downward, sometimes
poised right on the edge of a precipice, glittering like
emerald, and curling like the waves of some mighty
frozen ocean. The crannies in the rocks are filled with
snow right down to the water's edge, and the heat mist
which partly veils the base of the grey rocks and hangs
in horizontal wreaths, makes them appear the more
enormous.

*il

p *

CLUSTERING PINNACLES 233

We steam past jag after jag. Here the pinnacles
cluster like armed knights springing up among the
cliffs, there a tall arrow-headed rent stands almost
upright, filled with a glacier that seems to be falling
headlong from the heights above. Up against the
blue it is smooth and white, tipping quietly over with
a clean curve to the crest, where it breaks into thousands
of pale green cracks and cliffs. Now it is squeezed
between two upright masses of rock, and takes a twist to
the left, corrugating and shrivelling the surface as though
there were eddies and backwaters in this seemingly
motionless torrent. There is farther down another
smooth acre or two, which again below breaks up into
peaks and ridges glistening like jewels.

Though flung so widely, there is order in the seams,
which follow each other curve for curve. Suddenly, in
the midst of its career, down the cleft the glacier comes to
an end, and from it fine streams spring into space ; thread-
like at first, and then falling with a rhythmic patter, they
at last become nothing but a thin cloud of misty vapour.
Lower down still there is a basin into which the falling
mist gathers once more, and turns into a silver vein,
which sub-dividing again, dashes down a pyramid of
fallen rocks and boulders into the fjord.

Now we are passing a huge bluff of cold grey silurian
stone, seamed and worn by the frosts and snows of ages,
stained russet and purple in patches. It is everywhere
covered, on the flatter surfaces, by loose stones, and
great piles of debris lean against the almost upright
sides, with just here and there a little clinging grass.

Next there is a big sugar-loaf; the whole west side
seems to be weai'ing away in one great cataract of
rolling stones. Looking back, we see the whole of the
peaks in a vista one behind the other, the snow glistening

234 LYNGEN

bright in the sun, and cold and blue in the shadow.
Miles away in the misty distance we discover the highest
rocks only ; the rest is vapour.

Following the coast as we had been doing, the Alpine
forms disappeared in the Trondhjem depression, only
to reappear as soon as Nordland began. Here we had
again come into the well-known scenery, and a more
majestic panorama it is impossible to find than the wild
gabbro mountains of Lyngen in the glow of the midnight
sun. Away from the sun lay the bay, a faint pink opal,
the mountains the palest blue ; the two colours mixed
and reflected in the calm water. The glorious sun !
who can describe it, the red glow in the sky, the pink
haze along the foot of the mountains, the glowing
peaks drawing out one after the other, and the mist
making the whole look like transparencies.

The mountain behind which was the sun, stood up, a
deep blue black. The sun drew nearer and nearer to
the edge, disclosing a wonderful peak, a wall sheer
down into the fjord. Soon in all its glory it blazed
over the top, reflecting a ladder of light across the sea.
The waters of the fjord turned to the palest steel with
streaks of orange on the tops of the waves left by our
screw and the over-ripple. A shoal of porpoises slowly
diving were so much the colour of the ripple that it
was difficult to tell one from the other.

As we neared Lyngen the sweet smell of the firs was
wafted towards us from the shore, mixing with the
freshness of the coming day, that was again intensifying
the glow in the sky. I shall always associate Lyngen
with the smell of the firs : never had I known it sweeter.
On two sides they encircled us, growing thickly on the
first ridge that followed the valley. It is a town of
some importance, boasting two hotels, a church, a pastor,

LAPP ENCAMPMENT 235

a doctor, a lensmand, and a proud peasantry, to say
nothing of a Lapp settlement,

Lyngen lies, like most of the other towns, enclosed in
mountains on three sides, with the usual little white
wooden church with a squat black roof, and many white
houses dotted about. A pebbly beach circles the shore
with rough grass growing to the edge, on Avhich many
boats were pulled up. To one side of the boats were the
"hjell" for drying the Torfisk, and along the shore
wandered the ponies, nibbling the grass whilst waiting
for their masters, who had come in from the country
round to church. Many people had assembled, for a
bishop had come to confirm some of the Lapps, who in
twos and threes were walking about the main street ;
wonderful little people these, and so fully aware of the
note of colour needful for their grey surroundings.
The carioles and stolkjaerres were in lines round the
church, and the good people seemed to me almost as
interested in the Lapps as we were. Many streamed
along on the dusty road, in the company of the Vecti
on their way to the camp. The Lapps had chosen well.
Their camping ground was a mound covered with
short grass, and fir trees with a babbling stream to one
side and a thicket on the other, where the reindeer
browsed and were milked.

There were some twenty or more Lapps — such funny
little men with red-gold beards, and hair that grew
like our friend the Golliewog''s. They dressed in deep
blue cloth caftans, with bright red, yellow, and green
stripes round the edges. A four-cornered hat, the points
of which turned up or down like the ears of a rabbit,
adorned the men's heads. Their bundled-up gaitered
legs and feet, and the broad leather belt fastened very
low down, gave them impossibly long bodies and short

236 LAPP CLOTHING AND ORNAMENTS

legs. These Lapps must have been fairly well off, as
they had plenty of silver ornaments about them, and the
women odd-shaped silver spoons, that they kept tucked
in the bosom of their gown. Being dressed in cloth, too,
was a sign of their wealth, meaning that they had two
suits, the poorer Lapp only having the one of fur, like
some of the small children, who gamboled about for all
the world like Baby Bunting in his rabbit skin.

It was evident, at a first glance, that hot weather
does not suit these people. They shone as they sat
or walked in a perpetual state of oily fusion. I cannot
think what they can have felt like in their huts in such
a restricted area and in such weather. One can imagine
that on the bleak cold fjelds such close quarters might
be a source of comfort to its inhabitants ; how a sense
of warm, loving snugness might exist among a heap of
these little people, when all huddled together on the
floor round the centre fire during the long darkness of
their bitter winter-time. On a day like this — well, it did
not look comfortable.

The women were clothed like the men, all but the cap,
which consisted of a skull-cap with lappets at the side,
the top being scarlet, blue, or violet, with bands of many-
coloured strips, and edged off close to the face with a
little common white lace. The owner of this cap also
had a handsome though gaudy tartan silk shawl over a
woollen one, little bits of odd gold ornament on her belt,
and a silver spoon.

We had some trouble to make her sit for her portrait,
but she did in the end, and felt virtuous. A little man
had been hanging in a dangerous way, with his family,
over our shoulders, greatly interested in the work ; she
insisted on his sitting for his likeness also.

When he was seated, his wife took the long pipe she

A LAPP BABY 237

was smoking out of her mouth, pushed it rapidly into his,
dumped the baby on his knee, ran into the hut to fetch
the baby's new and still more brilliant cap with a red
bob on the top. She wrapped a big comforter round its
neck, and only then sat down contented with herself,
taking a puff at a friend's pipe now and then.

" The Lapps, who are generally called Finns in Norway,
are a brachycephalic race, which, however, is very clearly
distinguished anthropologically from the short-skulled
type found among the true Norwegians." " The cranium
is lower, more rounded, and with weak muscular attach-
ments. The face is very broad across the cheekbones,
tapering away to a weak chin, the nose flat, with a broad
base, and the mouth large." The skin is dark, but I
doubt me through dirt and exposure, as Mr. Hansen
states that "the skin except in children is rather
dark."

I talked and smiled to the baby whilst our artist
sketched the group. The little thing was wailing, and
looked as if it longed to be loosed from its coverings and
lacings. Its little pale flat face was turned up to the
sun, which made the weak eyes water and glued the red
lids. Expressing my meaning by mute action, I pleaded,
" Do unlace it," which the woman did with a grin. I was
alarmed. The tiny thing caught hold of my two
fingers and sat up. All its little wrappings fell off, and
laid bare a white, plump, perspiring body, quite as pale
and clean as any English baby. I kissed and tickled it,
making it laugh, to the joy of the camp.

" The hair is generally chestnut brown, but quite as
often fair as dark. The growth of hair on the men's
faces is weak and shaggy, generally confined to the upper
lip and a little on the chin. The eyes are quite as often
light as dark, are deep-set, sometimes obliquely placed

238 BALTO AND RAVNA

under heavy, often inflamed eyelids," The stature of the
pure Lapp is very small, not averaging more than five
feet ; to this is added a slender frame, round chest,
and but slight muscular development, bow legs, short
broad feet and a waddling gait. How far the fairness
is due to the long-continued crossing with Scandinavians,
it is difficult to determine ; but the shorter-skulled half
of Mantegazza*'s Lapps were if anything fairer than the
less short-skulled. In any case, however, the Lapps form
a very distinct race, having their nearest relatives among
the Mongolian tribes.

Nansen in his first crossing of Greenland had ample
time to study the two Lapps, Balto and Ravna, who
accompanied him. The first named he calls a " River
Lapp " ; these are generally people of some size and have
much Finn blood in them, and are of average height. Balto,
an intelligent fellow, did everything he undertook with
great energy, showed some power of endurance, was
willing to lend a hand at any job, whilst his read}' tongue
and broken Norwegian constituted him one of the
enlivening spirits of the expedition. Ravna was a
mountain Lapp from the neighbourhood of Karasjok,
and had spent all his nomadic life in a tent, wandering
with his reindeer about the mountain wastes of Finmarken,
often swimming them across the fjords to feed on the
islands. Apparently mountain Lapps are lazy, as Nansen
describes him as never being so pleased as when sitting
in the corner of the tent with his legs crossed doing
absolutely nothing. " He was very small, but surprisingly
strong and capable of any amount of endurance. He
could not write, and had no acquaintance with so modern
an apparatus as a watch. But he could read, and his
favourite book was his Lappish New Testament, from
which he was never parted." Nansen continues : " Ravna

LAPP BOOTS 239

and Balto were good-natured and amiable ; their fidelity
was often actually touching, and I grew very fond of
them both."

The Lapp's peculiar boots are called Jimiesko, and
are made of the skin of the legs of the reindeer buck, the
pieces with the hair on being laid for twenty-four hours
or so in a strong decoction of birch or similar bark, or
sometimes tanned in tar water. The skin of the hind
legs is used for the soles and sides, and that of the fore
legs for the upper leather, the hair being left outside
throughout the boot ; these the Lapps fill with sedge or
sennegTaes and also wrap their bare feet in the grass,
making a pre-eminently warm covering suitable for use
on " ski " or snow-shoes.

Here I feel I cannot do better than quote Andr. M.
Hansen's description of these little people, who filled us
all with so much interest. On board the ship all sorts
of questions were asked, and many of us would have
given a good deal to have a short history of the Lapps
at hand,

" Their language is nearly allied to that of the Finlanders,
more distantly to the other ' Finno-Ugrian ' or ' Ural-
Attaic.*" There is now no longer reason for upholding
the old doctrine that the Lapps originally peopled the
whole of Scandinavia ; they came to Norway later than
either of the two types that are found among the
Norwegians proper, coming from the east by a northern
route, as a hunting, fishing people with the culture of
the stone age. A special type of stone implements has
been referred specially to them — ' the arctic stone age,' —
and these implements must have been in use among them
much longer than among the Scandinavians, who in their
turn taught them the full use of the reindeer, upon which
the true nomadic Lapps are so dependent for their sub-

240 AN ENGLISHMAN'S EXPERIENCE

sistence. A Lapp is not considered eligible till he
possesses a herd of two hundred of these animals. A
thousand years ago they were found as fishers at the
head of the fjords, or wandering as nomads among the
mountains in very much the same districts as now, hardly
south of Jemtland. It is only lately that they have
advanced in any numbers worth mentioning, along the
mountain ridge, south of 64°, The Lapps cannot be said
to be dying out, for throughout the country they have
increased from about 7000 in 1724 to 13,000 in 1845,
and 21,000 in 1891. Barely one-tenth of these are now
true nomadic Lapps ; most of them live as fishermen in
the two most northerly provinces."

After seeing the Lapps, it was with much interest I
read the following experiences of an Englishman who,
through stress of weather, was obliged to shelter in one
of their camps : —

"The low limit of the fjeld Finns is the sea-level,
about the North Cape. In Sweden the deer only come
down in winter. There is plenty of moss pasture near
the sea, but a certain fly drives deer and men to the
snow. Farther south wild reindeer keep on the high
tops, about Romsdal. Tame deer are kept as far south
as Bergen, but they do not flourish in that wet climate,
and they are kept in the high fjeld. They never come
down to the sea or rich pasture, but seem to prefer cold,
and moss which grows in cold regions.

" By the time we got up to the kota^, we had passed
through some sharp showers. The Lapps had now
arrived, and a tent was pitched beside the conical hut.
In the K-ota I found a dirty old woman and a lot of
dirty children sitting round a fire made in the middle of
a ring of stones, and looking very picturesque in the
half light that streamed down through the chimney.

HOME LIFE AMONGST THE LAPPS 241

There was a heap of gear and human creatures, iron pots
and wooden bowls, dogs and deerskins, piled in admirable
confusion.

" I tried the other tent, and found a very fine-looking
Lapp woman sitting on a heap of deerskins, serving out
coffee and reindeer cream to the docker with a quaint
silver spoon. She had silver bracelets and a couple of
silver rings ; and altogether, with her black hair and
dark brown eyes glancing in the firelight, she looked
Eastern and magnificent. I set to work with the paint-
box instanter, but she would not sit still for a moment,
and it was almost dark. I gave it up, and went out
amongst the deer.

" There were about six hundred in the herd, and some
old stags were quite magnificent. One had fourteen
points on one brow antler, and about forty in all. He
looked quite colossal in the evening mist. A small imp
of a boy, about three feet high, and a child just able to
toddle, were wandering about amongst the deer. The
boy was amusing himself by catching the largest stags
with a lasso, to pull the loose velvet from their antlers.
He never missed his throw, and when he had the noose
round the beast's neck, it was grand to see him set his
heels on the ground, and haul himself in, hand over hand,
till he got the noose round the stag's nose. Then he
had him safe and quiet, with the nose and neck tied
together, and then they posed for a pictm'e of savage
life. The small imp was practising on the calves and
hinds, and screaming at them in simulation of the bigger
brother. He kept kicking the big stags, which lay on
the ground, with the most perfect familiarity.

" After I got packed into my nest, the whole herd
almost walked over me. I heard their heels clicking
beside my head, as they went grunting like a herd of
16

242 A WARM DRY SHELTER

swine. A Lapp followed, shouting a deep, guttural
' Ho ! "* at intervals, and several dogs followed, yelping at
his heels. It was a queer feeling to lie there on the bare
hillside, and hear the rushing sound of their feet sweep
through the low scrubby brush, and gradually fade away
as they trotted off to the sound of ' Ho ! ' Presently came
the patter of rain, and the sough of a rushing wind that
shook the willow bushes, and swept moaning over the
hill. My low shelter was warm and dry, and I slept
soundly.

" Awakened by hearing the Lapps chattering ; poked
my head out, and found everything wrapped in thick
mist. Pulled my head in again to brood over my ill-luck,
and gather courage for a plunge into air. Rolled out at
last and scrambled into a A'oto, where I found Marcus
smoking as usual. All the children were scrambling
about their mother, who was getting ready for milking
the deer. I got some food packed up, and talked about
this unattainable place, Antsik. No one who was at
home could find the way in such a mist ; so there was
nothing for it but to wait for clear weather, or the
father of the family, who was away.

" I watched the day''s proceedings till the mist changed
into heavy rain ; when I pitched my tent again to keep
a dry bed, and spent the day in sketching and studying
Lapps. The rain came through the tent, and in the
hut it was impossible even to sit on the ground without
bending forward. The children would look over my
shoulder, to my terror, so sketching was not easy.
There were five dogs, three children, the old woman,
Marcus, and myself; and all day long the handsome
lady from next door, and her husband, and a couple of
quaint, mangy-looking old fellows, kept popping in to
see how the stranger got on.

THE KOTA 243

" The hota itself was a cone of birch sticks and green
turf, about seven feet high ; and twelve or fourteen in
diameter. It was close quarters, but the scene was worth
the discomfort. No one seemed to care a rap for rain,
or fear colds, more than the deer.

"Breakfast consisted of milk and cheese and boiled
fish ; and whenever any dish had been used, the old
dame carefully wiped it out with her crooked forefinger,
and then licked the finger and every attainable place
in the dish itself. It was wonderful to see her dexterity,
and to hear her talk while she polished the dish. When
one of the children spilt some milk on its deerskin dress,
it was all gathered and licked up with the same tongue
which found time to scold the offender.

"Dinner was reindeer's flesh boiled. The children
cracked the bones on the stones after they had polished
the outside ; and they sucked up the marrow. Then the
dogs, who had not dared to steal, were called in their
turn, and got the scraps. Wooden bowls were set apart
for the dogs. There was an extra meal after dinner on
the arrival of papa, who came, dripping like a river-god,
with a supply of bread, butter, and salt fish, stowed
in a leathern bag. This was evidently an unusual treat,
so it was all consumed.

" The father was a fine man for a Lapp, forty years
old, and five feet high ; he had walked fourteen miles
in a deluge, but he only wrung his tall, conical blue
cap to keep the water from trickling down his nose ;
and then he sat down to watch his children enjoy the
feast, while a brother, and a young girl who came with
him, joined our circle. We were decidedly too thick,
so I went next door. There I found nobody at home
but a black dog. Seated myself on a pile of deerskins
to have a quiet pipe, and was startled by a loud Lapp

244 THE TENT

exclamation, which came from an old fellow on whom
I had sat. I got up, laughing, and made Marcus brew
coffee for all hands.

"The tent was about as big as the kota, made of
striped stuff, so coarse that I could almost see through
it, as through a veil. It was patched here and there,
and smoked brown near the top. It did not touch the
ground anywhere, and at the smallest disturbance three
dogs plunged out, barking. They popped in when the
row was over, and curled themselves up amongst the
gear. The door was a canvas slip, like a boat's jib, with
cross-sticks to fasten it, and M^as to windward so that
it could not blow open. No one could come in without
stooping, kneeling, and turning sideways. . . . The
canvas was stretched on poles, which were joined at the
top with considerable skill. . . . The owners of the
tent were married in winter, and had lots of gear, silver
ornaments, bone contrivances, one of which was for
weaving coloured woollen bands ; baskets of ingenious
shapes, very well made of birch and fir roots variously
coloured. They all wore long knives, and the newly
married couple smoked and drank coffee at intervals all
day.

" Next morning found the Lapps getting up, the old
woman licking the dishes clean for breakfast, the father
smoking whilst putting on the shoes ,of his youngest
child. He first spread out a handful of fine hay made
from a particular kind of grass, and then he tossed it
on the stones beside the fire till it was perfectly dry.
Then the boy was seized by his leg and laid on his back,
while foot and hay was crammed and stuffed into a
miniature Lapp shoe. It was a work of some difficulty
to make all fit nicely, and bind it all neatly round the
leg and the leather leggings. They made a good group.

IHE FJEl.D LAVPEK OK THK NO-MAN S-LAXD THAT lUVIUKS NORWAY
FROM SWEDEN

A PICTURESQUE GROUP 245

the father and son, and a black puppy that would nibble
the boy's rosy cheeks as he lay sprawling on the ground.
The Lapps are small of stature, very hardy, good sturdy
walkers, utterly careless about wind and weather. They
are not free with their goods ; they are not hospitable.
No Lapp ever offered me milk or coffee when he helped
himself. They gave what I asked for, and I paid ;
but other hill-folk offer their best to the stranger."

From a topographical point of view, Norway does not
seem to have any natural boundaries, in a general sense,
on her land side. It was proved to be utterly impossible
to draw a reasonable frontier-line that really followed the
parting of the watersheds. No marked division exists, no
chain of mountains, no separating keel. It has never
been a definite natural line that has divided Norway from
her neighbours on the east. It has been a band of
desert land, some hundreds of miles in width ; so utterly
desolate and apart from the area of continuous habita-
tion, that the greater part of it, the district, a desolate
boundary, north of Trondhjem, was looked upon so late
as the last century as No Man's Land. Heathen Lapps
wandered about in it, sometimes taxed by all three
countries.

This district was parcelled out to Sweden in 1751 and
to Russia in 1826. It was partly on account of the
geographical ideas prevailing at that time on the subject
of mountain ranges and watersheds, that the boundary
was drawn so far west on the mountain plateau as it lies,
without following any well-defined ridge. The width of
this desolate region is about 200 miles, with a population
of one per four square miles. Along the Swedish
frontier southwards to 60 degrees N. latitude, the
desert strip, serviceable only to the nomads, is about 120
miles wide, double the width of Norway itself.

246 NORWAY'S DESERT BOUNDARY

Altogether Lapland sends down a wedge between
Norway and Sweden calculated to be 150,000 square
miles in area, with only 15,000 inhabitants, — a lonely
off-shoot from the tundra belt of the shores of the Polar
Sea. This Lapland strip is almost broken off by the
depressions round the Trondhjem Fjord. The forests
from both sides meet here in the glens between the
valleys. Thus, as a whole, Norway's land boundaries
towards Sweden, Russia, and Finland are defined by
a broad band, desolate, trackless, uninhabited, or only
occupied by the nomadic Lapp and forest Finn, — a
band that forms a very complete isolation for the home
of the Norwegian people.

CHAPTER XIII
HAMMERFEST AND NORTH CAPE

WE had left Lyngen and all its beauties behind,
and were just passing Hasvik point, that lay
to our left dark against the sky, when far ahead down
the peaceful Soro Sund we became aware of a great cloud
of black smoke rising high into the sky, and wondered
what in the world it could be.

Everything burns so readily in Norway, that at first
we thought it could be nothing but a hamlet on fire.
Smoke seemed so out of place against the thin, transparent
haze that lay over this beautiful stretch of water. How-
ever, it advanced rapidly, and we soon made out that
there were many parallel columns rising from a mass
of funnels and masts painted a soft French grey. As
they came on we knew them at once as the German
Emperor's battleships. They were in line ahead, throw-
ing the white spray of the peaceful fjord from either
side of their bows, and showing to the world at large
the sea power of the Fatherland. We soon made out
the golden eagles, the speed cones at the yard-arms, the
colours at the peaks, the men clustered round the guns,
and officers upon the bridges. They certainly kept
station well, looked as fresh as paint could make them,
and, except for the distinguishing red bands round their
funnels, seemed all exactly alike.

The masts of shipping rose in an inlet by the point,

247

248 SORD SUND

and after the quiet of Lyngen, Soro Sund seemed quite
a populous highway. To our right rose the unexplored
glaciers of Jadki in the island of Seiland, and to our left
the island of Sorii, on the head of which rested patches
of snow. Every here and there a green bank rose to the
top, alongside bare, seamed rocks. We passed a light-house
on one hand, and the curiously shaped island of Haajen
on the other, and crossed the strait of Strommen, that
divides Seiland from Kvalo, on which is Hammerfest,
the most northern town in Europe,

We are in 70° 40' 11" N. latitude. There could not
be a greater contrast between the prevalent notion of
the Arctic regions and the actual reality. Snow lay in
patches at the tops of the hills, it is true, but spring
flowers were sprouting in every sheltered nook. Big
bright patches of green grass came down to the water's
edge, and a mass of glowing buttercups filled the head
of the bay. The houses, all of wood as usual, except
those rebuilt since the great fire of 1890, are ranged in
rows, with some likeness to streets. The great warehouses
stand along the quays, running up both sides of the
town harbour, that was full of vessels of many nations.
The largest number were from the ports of the White
Sea, their yards and spars made a perfect maze. Bearded
Russians, Englishmen, Swedes, Germans, Quains, Finns,
and Lapps filled the streets, lounging about doors,
smoking and chattering in many tongues. Boat-loads
of dried cod were being tossed into warehouses. They
seemed to be as hard as sticks, but every boy had a
bit in his pocket, and as he ran about crunched and
sucked it. In every available corner hung strings of
dried and drying fish ; festoons of them were on the ships
and along the quays, and every warehouse was piled
full on each floor with fish and salt.

i

DR. DE JOHN'S COD-LIVER OIL 249

Founded in 1787, Hammerfesfs trade consists of train
and cod-liver oil, fish, whales, and furs. Large train-oil
stores line the beach. Besides the Protestant Church
Hammerfest can boast a Roman Catholic Chapel, a
Baptist one, called "Bethel," and a few shops. Here
the'sun does not set from the 13th of May to the 29th
of July, and never rises from the 18th of November to
the 23rd January ; but the electric light, introduced into
the town in 1891, saves the situation. Cod-liver oil,
prepared in numerous boilers, is the most valuable com-
modity of the place, and gives the town that smell many
of us as children knew so well, from old Dr. de John's dark
brown to what is now playfully called " tasteless,"

For some unexplained reason the population that
wandered on the quays (that were the most at-
tractive portion of the town) looked innocent. The
fishermen Lapps, that landed from their boats, con-
tentedly picked up discarded caiTot-tops and chewed
them with apparent satisfaction. Mrs. Lapp and the
Baby Bunting Lapps (nothing but balls of fur) bustled
about, whilst Father Lapp sat on the gaily-coloured box,
that no doubt contained all their valuables and ward-
robe, nursing the last new-comer in its odd-shaped cradle.
He was a proud father, and was unaffectedly pleased at
our notice of the little one. The Lapp cradle has a
great deal of sense in it. Wherever the baby is placed
it is warm, its little face shaded from the glare by the
close curtains, and its little body, that is so carefully laced
in, is on the whole free. None of its clothes are tied
or fastened. They are merely wrapped, one soft wrapping
over another, and the whole is so portable that the
mother M^alks about with it slung over her shoulder by
a thong, or carried in front. They were a happy, chatty
little people, so unfeignedly pleased to meet their friends,

250 NANSEN'S WELCOME

as they gathered at the long tables set on shore under
the lee of the warehouses, where Lapp, Quain, Finn, and
all sorts of seafarers sat down to an out-door meal. The
nursemaids looked on at the shouting, rushing, and
yelling of a madcap company of Americans, with doe-
like, wondering eyes, while small parties stood and watched
the noisy foreigner at the street-corners or gathered in
the square.

I was surprised at the quantity of telegraph cables
that left this small town, to all parts of the globe. In
the telegraph office a large map showed the whole
wonderful system. The elderly man at the desk looked
at me over his glasses as I passed in my wire. I wondered
if he was the same man who had been so electrified at
the importance of the news that he was to take to
Nansen —

" There stood a gentleman," says Nansen, " with a
telegram in his hand, who introduced himself as the
head of the telegraph office, and said that he had a
telegram to deliver to me which he thought would interest
me, so he had come with it himself. Something that
would interest me ? There was only one thing left in
the world that could really interest me. With trembling
hands I tore open the telegram — ' Fridtjof Nansen, —
Fram arrived in good condition. All well on board.
Shall start at once for Tromso. Welcome home. Otto

SVERDKUP.'' "

This was on August 24, 1896 ; at the moment that
Nansen, in Sir George Baden-Powell's yacht, was about
to sail. The two parties meeting after many months of
separation by the terrible ice-pack.

The little fountain in the middle of the square played
merrily, shooting and upholding in the air a small silvered
ball, the water splashing back into a granite basin. The

MERIDIA NSTOTTE 2 5 1

fenced-in garden grew only the homely buttercup, but
the little patch was intensely green and bright. High
above the town rose the tapering spars of the Marconi-
graph, and in a line below it was a goat tethered on
a house-top quietly browsing. The newest thing in
telegraphy, and the oldest form of roof, stood
exemplified.

At the end of the promontory of Fuglnaes, on the
opposite side to the town, is the light-house, with the
keeper's house all snug and comfortable, — a sinecure at
this time of the year. The men standing round a
cauldron told us on the 17th of August the light would
be lit for the first time since the spving. All round were
the long railings, or "hjell," for drying the fish — acres
of them. And close by a conspicuous column of granite
called the Meridianstotte, crowned with a bronze globe,
erected to commemorate the measurements of degrees
in 1852-62 by the geometers of three nations, by order
of King Oscar and Emperors Alexander i. and Nicholas i.
On the Fuglnaes Sir Edward Sabine made some famous
experiments with the pendulum in 1823. In 1818 he
accompanied Sir John Ross in search of the North- West
Passage, and that of Sir E. Parry soon afterwards, but
his most scientific work was his pendulum observations ;
he being the first to show the altogether unexpected
amount of accuracy attainable in a matter which under
the most favourable conditions is one of great delicacy.
It was mainly through Sir Edward Sabine's energy that
systems of magnetic observatories were established in
various parts of British territory all over the globe.

The fog that had so often been predicted had come at
last. It was not possible to realise that it existed at all.
The bay was clear and blue, and so was the sky, but just
outside it was as though a grey curtain had been drawn

252 FOG

across the fjord. The captain paced the deck, impatient
to be off. The pilot looked stolidly ahead into the bank
of fog that was slowly thinning, till first one peak and
then another was seen as though floating on the top —
islands in the mist. We had lain with shortened cable
for some time. As the fog lifted, the chain again rattled
and wound in round the steaming capstan, the forecastle
head crowded with nimble-footed Lascars tending and
bedding the monster anchor as its head appeared in line
with the deck. We were once more off, and carefully
threading our way northwards, when again the mist
enveloped the ship, and so closely that the water was
invisible from the deck. There was nothing for it but to
let go. The cable rattled and rattled, link after link
plunging overboard. The chain-locker must have been
well-nigh, if not quite, empty ; fathoms and fathoms deep
was the fjord, and around and ahead could be heard the
whistle of the launch that had been lowered from the ship
to find soundings, our great deep note answering the shrill
whistle with a mighty Ha-a-a.

In the Natural History of Norway 1151, Pontoppidan
tells us that the IraJicn (that died so hard) is the largest
creature in the world ; " its back or upper part, which seems
to be in appearance about an English mile and a half in
circumference (some say more, but I choose the least for
the greater certainty), look at first like a number of small
islands surrounded with something that floats and fluctuates
like seaweeds. It is said that if the creature's arm
(tentacula) were to lay hold of the largest man-of-war,
they would pull it down to the bottom." He then proceeds
to say, " If I were an admirer of uncertain reports and
fabulous stories, I might add much more concerning this
and other Norwegian monsters, whose existence I will
not take on me to deny, but I do not choose by a

THE BISHOP'S BELIEF IN THE KRAKEN 253

mixture of uncertain relations to make such accounts
appear doubtful as I myself believe to be true and well
attested."

Mr. Milford gives an extract from a letter of " an
intelligent friend at Bergen," Stiftamund Christie, whose
name is so much connected with the political institutions
of Norway from the year 1814. " I especially asked his
opinion about the sea-serpent, and he assured me that
not only do the peasants feel convinced of its existence,
but that he himself believes that it exists; that the
Bishop of Bergen, a few years ago, published an article in
an antiquarian paper which comes out occasionally, by the
directors of the Bergen Museum, containing information
in corroboration of the belief; that the inhabitants of
the island Herroe at Sondmor see the serpent every year
for a couple of months, in summer, whenever the weather
is fine and the sea calm." Who would disbelieve the
Bishop .'' Does the Tirakcn still exist ? If so, this was
the moment when we should have seen it. Through the
fog it was possible to imagine the existence of any such
huge sea-monster.

In Hakluyfs Triiffiques and Discouveries we find that
" They proceeded to sea againe, and Master Chanceler
held on his course towards that unknown part of the
world, and sailed so farre, that hee came at last to the
place where hee found no night at all but a continual light
and brightness of the Sunne shining clearly upon the
huge and mightie Sea." And here is a report to " Alfred
King of England, about the year 890."

" Octher said that the country wherein he dwelt was
called Helgoland. He said that upon a certeine time
he fell into a fantasie and desire to proove and know
how farre that land stretched Northward, and wether
there were any habitations of men North beyond the

254 OCTHER " ENCREASES KNOWLEDGE"

desert. Whereupon he tooke his voyage directly north
along the coast, hauing vpon his steereboord alwayes the
desert land and vpon his leei'eboord the main Ocean :
and continued his course for the space of 3 dayes.
In which space he was come as far towards the North
as commonly the whale hunters vse to trauell, whence
he proceeded on his course still towards the North so farr
as he was able to saile in other 3 dayes. At the end
whereof he perceiued that the coast turned towards the
East, or els the sea opened with a maine gulfe into the
land, he knew not how fane. Well he wist and remem-
bered that he was faine to stay till he had a Westerne
wind and somewhat Northerly : and thence he sailed
plaine East along the coast still so far as he was able
in the space of 4 dayes. At the end of which time he
was compelled againe to stay till he had a full Northerly
winde, forsomuch as the coast bowed thence directly
towards the South, or at leastwise the sea opened into the
land he could not tell how farre. . . . Thorowout all his
voyage he had euermore on his steereboord, a wildernesse
and desert countrey, except that in some places he saw a
few fishers, fowlers and hunters, which were all Fynnes :
and all the way vpon his leereboord was the maine
ocean. . . . The principal purpose of this traueile was
to encrease the knowledge and discoverie of these coasts
and countreyes, for the more commoditie of fishing of
horse whales, which have in their teeth bones of great
price and excellence, whereof he brought some at his return
unto the king. Skinnes are also very good to make cables
for shippes."

Like Octher, we too were going " to encrease the know-
ledge and discoveries of these coasts and countreyes, more
especially the horse whales," but of this later. At the
moment we were off Hjelmso on a placid blue sea, the

HJELMSC) 255

little islands of Molfo and Ingo left astern, and nothing
but a vast open expanse of ocean ahead. Hjelmso stood
boldly out of the sea, the fleeting shadows running and
chasing each other over the rock, whilst myriads of birds
flew across its face high into the sky, disturbed from their
nesting-places by the fire of our gun. As we passed on,
the cliffs took new and fantastic shapes ; the most wonder-
ful being the Man Rock ; to my thinking it looked more
like a colossal statue of the Madonna and Child, which,
as the ship steamed farther north, opened out into an
up-standing hand.

" And then uprose before me,
Upon the water's edge,
The huge and haggard shape
Of that unknown North Cape
Whose form is Hke a wedge." — Longfellow

Cool, hard, and grey against the sky, stood the famous
Nordkap, furrowed with deep clefts and bare of verdure,
except upon the top, where its surface told sharp against
the sky, a pale dried-up green. But not so the next bend,
where ran in a sheltered bay called Hornvik, off which
we anchored. On landing to climb to the summit, the first
part of the way was over loose stones, Finns had sighted
the ship, and stood offering odd mementoes of the North,
— whale-bone stools, sticks, wonderfully well-carved knife
handles, and shells. My surprise was great to find this
steep glen carpeted with flowers. Varieties that we had
not seen up to date blooming, tall and delicate, in
this sheltered nook, and looking strange amongst so
much that was bare and unpromising. Here, on the side
of the path where one had to cling to the rope, grew the
yellow-spun-ed violet ( Viola haniearnis), a tiny plant only
found on very poor soil ; and alongside it, taller and

256 NORTH CAPE FLORA

bigger than I had yet seen, grew Dryas octopetala. This
same studded the top of the North Cape, but was there
far more stunted. Big yellow globe-flowers waved in
company of many grasses, forget-me-nots, the pale wild
violet, and purple cranesbill.

The way up was very rough, and along the top the
surface was nothing but grey, loose stones intersected with
stunted growths of stone moss. A lonely spot was this,
and in the winter awful, with the storms that circle round
the headland, the lightning, the thunder, the powerful
sea, and the dark. Those who were not strong enough
for the climb had had some fine sport with the fish, which
was most plentiful.

Again we steamed north ; the sun no longer sinking,
revolved round us, hghting the cliffs and sky above;
the sun worshippers on board bowed to the deck, gazed
and prayed, and we were silenced by its wonder. Sea,
nothing but sea ! met our gaze. This was a day for
entering up diaries, reading and rest ; I for one enjoyed
and made the most of the opportunity, collecting, drying,
and preserving flowers, sorting and naming. I also read
my book upon the subject, and found that the forest
growth of Norway consists chiefly of pine and fir, which
clothe the slopes of the mountain valleys, especially in
southern Norway, as those of Glommen and its tributaries,
those of the Drammen, Lanrvik, Skien, Arendal, and
Christiansand districts, and those drained by the river
disemboguing at Frederikshald. Extensive forests of
coniferous trees are also found in Trondhjem stift and
the Amt of Nordland.

The woods of Bergen and Tromsii consist, with a solitary
exception, of fir alone. The limit of the fir belt is 2000
to 3000 feet above the sea — through the Trondhjem
district from 1600 to 2000 — and with the sole exception

NORWEGIAN TREES AND FLOWERS 257

of the birch, none of the trees indigenous to the
country, bearing or producing leaves, form woods of
great extent. The birch reaches higher up the mountain
sides than do any of the conifers, and forms a belt
above them, which is, however, exceedingly narrow in
Southern Norway. Next come the dwarf birch and
various species of willows, and, last of all, between
this and the snow-limit, the lichen belt. In the fertile
and less elevated districts of Norway the forest growth,
apart from the conifers, includes the ash, elm, lime, oak,
beech, and black alder. The aspen, white alder, mountain
ash, and bird-cherry thrive at a considerable elevation,
and are occasionally found even in the birch zone. The
ash still grows abundantly on the south-eastern coast,
from Jarlsberg-Laurvik and to Christiansand, but is no-
where found in extensive forests. The only locality in
which the beech can be said to thrive is Jarlsberg-Laurvik
amt.

The vast fir and pine forests are still the haunts of the
largest of Europe's wild animals — the bear, the lynx, and
the wolf — though for some unaccountable reason the
latter has been decreasing during the last twenty years in
Southern Norway and may now be regarded as the most
rare of Norwegian beasts of prey. In Finmark the
wolf still abounds, constituting the worst enemy to the
herds of reindeer. The bear also is less frequently met
with, a fact to be accounted for by the immense quantities
of timber felled of late throughout the country.

Bjornson, in his pretty tale. The Bridal March, describes
a bear breaking through the forest and frightening
Mildred, the heroine, who was sitting one day near the
soeter, herding the goats and sheep, because one of the
boys had played truant and she had to do his work.

" It was a warm midday ; she was sitting in the shade
17

258 WILD ANIMALS

of a hillock overgrown with birch and underwood ; she
had thrown oft' her jacket and taken her knitting in her
hand, and was expecting Inga. Something rustled behind
her. ' There she comes,' thought Mildred, and looked up.
But there was more noise than Inga was likely to make,
and such a breaking and cracking among the bushes.
Mildred turned pale, got up, and saw something hairy
and a pair of eyes below it, — it must be a bear's head !
She wanted to scream, but no voice would come ; she
wanted to run, but could not stir.

"The thing raised itself up — it was a tall, broad-
shouldered man with a fur cap, a gun in his hand. . . .
' Oh, dear ! ' she said ; ' I thought it was a bear breaking
through the bushes, and I got such a fright ! ' and she
tried to laugh. ' Well, it might almost have been that,'
said he, speaking in a very quiet voice ; ' Kvas and I
were on the track of a bear, but now we have lost it ;
and if I have a hadoger (the old superstition that every
man is followed by an invisible animal resembling him
in character, a superstition which is still common among
the peasants), it is certainly a bear. . . .' She felt the
inclination to say, ' Go away ! ' but instead she drew
back a few steps, and asked, ' Who are you .? ' She was
really frightened. ' Hans Haugen,' answered the man
rather absently ; for he was paying attention to the dog,
which seemed to have found the track of the bear again.
. . . 'Forgive me for having frightened you,' he said,
and took his way up the hillside after his dog.

" By the time she ventured to look up he had just
reached the top of the ridge, and there he turned to look
at her. It was only for an instant, for at that moment
the dog barked on the other side. Hans gave a start,
held his gun in readiness, and hurried on. Mildred was
still gazing at the place where he had stood, when a shot

HANS HAUGEN 259

startled her. Could this be the bear? Could it have
been so near her ? Off she went climbing where he had
just climbed, till she stood where he had stood, shading
her eyes with her hand ; and, sure enough, there was
Hans half hidden by a bush, on his knees beside a huge
bear !

" Before she knew what she was doing, she was down
beside him. He gave her a smile of welcome, and ex-
plained to her, in his low voice, how it had happened
that they had lost the track and the dog had not scented
the animal till they were almost upon it. By this time
she had forgotten her tears and her bashfulness, and he
had drawn his knife to skin the bear on the spot. The
flesh was of no value at the time ; he meant to bury the
carcass and take only the skin. So she held, and he
skinned ; then she ran down to the soeter for an axe and
spade ; and although she still felt afraid of the bear, and
it had a bad smell, she kept on helping him till all was
finished. By this time it was long past twelve o'clock,
and he invited himself to dinner at the soeter. He washed
himself and the skin, no small piece of work, and then
came in and sat beside her while she finished preparing
the food."

The bears are most numerous now in Trondhjem,
Nordland, and Romsdal amts ; in all some hundred and
fifty are killed throughout Norway in the year. Lynxes,
too, are fairly plentiful and do not seem to diminish.
Nordre Trondhjem would appear to be its northern
limit, where its depredations on feathered game and
hares cease.

In the great forests — especially where the soil is marshy,
and there is a mingled growth of ash, mountain ash, and
willow — the elk occurs, and appears to be increasing in
numbers in some places, notwithstanding the vast quantity

26o THE ELK DEER AND THE GLUTTON

of timber felled, doubtless attributable to the rapid de-
crease of its worst enemies, the wolf and the bear. The
elk is most numerous in Hedemark, Buskerud, and in
some parts of Akershus and Smaalenene, and considerable
numbers have been met with of late throughout Nordre
Trondhjem amt. Nowhere is the elk found in the west
of Norway, but its place is partially taken by the red
deer, which selects as its haunts the largest of the wooded
islands on the coast and the numerous semi-insular pro-
jections of the mainland. It is most abundant on the
island of Hiteren, at the mouth of the Trondhjem
Fjord.

The wild, desolate wastes of the fjelds are the home of
the glutton and the reindeer, the lemming and the polar
fox. Large herds of reindeer still roam throughout the
alpine region of the fjelds between Eastern and Western
Norway and on the Dovre Mountains, the Rundam and
the highlands between Gudbrandsdal and Osterdal, and
Gudbrandsdal and Valders ; but this noble animal has
become scarcer of late years largely due to the numbers
killed by peasant hunters who fire into the midst of the
herd, sometimes maiming at a shot half a dozen animals,
which they cannot hope to secure, and which afterwards
become the prey of the glutton.

Of all the animal tribe in Norway the lemming is by
far the most curious. It is quite a small animal belonging
to the order Rodentia, is about five inches long, with a soft
yellowish brown coat marked with spots of dark brown
and black. It has a short rounded head, obtuse muzzle,
small bead-like eyes, and short rounded ears, nearly con-
cealed by the fur. The tail is very short, the feet small,
each with five claws, those of the forefeet strongest, and
fitted for scratching and digging. The usual dwelling-
place of the lemmings is in the high lands or fells of the

LEMMING 261

great central mountain chain of Norway and Sweden,
from the southern branches of the Langfjeldem in
Christiansand stift to the North Cape and the Varanger
Fjord. South of the Arctic circle they are, under ordinary
circumstances, exclusively confined to the plateaus covered
with dwarf birch and juniper about the conifer region,
though in Tromso amt and in Finmarken they occur in
all suitable localities down to the level of the sea. The
nest is formed under a tussock of grass or a stone and
constructed of short dry straws, and usually lined with
hair. The number of young is usually five, occasionally
seven or eight, and at least two broods annually. Their
food is entirely vegetable, grass roots and stalks, shoots
of the dwarf birch, reindeer lichens, and mosses. They
are restless, courageous, pugnacious little animals, and
when disturbed, instead of running away, sit up with their
back against a stone or other coign of vantage, hissing and
showing fight in a very determined manner.

The circumstance which has given more popular
interest to the lemming than to a host of other species
of the same order of animals, is that certain districts
of the cultivated lands of Norway and Sweden, where
in ordinary circumstances they are quite unknown, are
occasionally and at very uncertain intervals, varying from
five to twenty or more years, literally overrun by an army
of these little creatures. They steadily and slowly
advance, always in the same direction, and regardless of
all obstacles, swimming across streams and even lakes
of several miles in breadth, devastating the herbage by
the quantity of food they consume. In this march across
country they are pursued and harassed by croM'ds of
beasts and birds of prey, as bears, wolves, foxes, dogs,
wild cats, stoats, weasels, eagles, hawks, and owls. Man
never spares them, and even the domestic animals not

262 LEMMING SEEK SUBMERGED ATI.ANTIS

usually carnivorous cannot resist these much-harried
little animals, and cattle, goats, and reindeer crush them
with a stroke of their cloven hoofs, for the sake of the
vegetable matter they contain. None ever return by
the course by which they came, and the onward march
of the survivors never ceases until they reach the sea,
into which they plunge, and, swimming onwards in the
same direction as before, perish in the waves. It reminds
one of the swine in Scripture into which the evil spirits
had entered.

The ancient belief of the Norwegian peasants, shared
in by Olaus Magnus, was that these little animals fell
from the clouds ; and another untenable hypothesis is
that of Mr. W. D. Crotch, that they are acting in these
migrations in obedience to an instinct inherited from
vastly ancient times, and are still seeking the congenial
home in the submerged Atlantis to which their ancestors
of the Miocene period were wont to resort when driven
from their ordinary dwelling - places by crowding or
scarcity of food.

The principal really ascertained facts regarding these
migrations, as stated by Mr. R. Cottell in Proceedings
of the Linnean Society, vol. xiii. p. 327, 1878, seem to be
as follows : —

" When any combination of circumstances has occasioned
an increase of the numbers of the lemmings in their
ordinary dwelling-places, impelled by the restless or
migratory instinct possessed in a less developed degree
by so many of their congeners, a movement takes place
at the edge of the elevated plateau, and a migration
towards the lower-lying land begins. The whole body
moves forward slowly, always advancing in the same
general direction in which they originally started, but
following more or less the course of the great valleys.

A LEMMING YEAR 263

They only travel by night ; staying in congenial places
for considerable periods, with unaccustomed abundance
of provender. Notwithstanding all the destructive in-
fluences to which they are exposed they multiply
excessively during their journey, having still more
numerous families and more frequently than in their
usual homes. The progress may last from one to three
years, according to the route taken and the distance to
be traversed until the seacoast is reached, which in a
country so surrounded by water as the Scandinavian
peninsula must be the ultimate goal of such a journey.
This may be either the Atlantic or the Gulf of Bothnia,
according as the migration has commenced from the
west or the east side of the central elevated plateau.
Those that finally perish in the sea, committing what
appears to be a voluntary suicide, are only acting under
the same blind impulse which has led them previously
to cross smaller pieces of water with safety."

Insignificant as this little animal is, he plays an
important part all over Norway, having before now
laid waste entire districts, and so polluted the waters as
to cause what was called lemming fever, a horrible kind
of jaundice. Fortunately a lemming year comes at rare
intervals, the last migration reported being in 1863.
One thing, and only one, makes some amends to the
poor farmer for his destroyed crops and poisoned water.
The lemming is delicious food to all the wild animals
which follow their track across country ; thus the bad
harvest is often made good by the hunting that
follows.

Like our own late spring in England, the most
beautiful time of the year in Norway is when the flowers
show through the grass. In Norway the greater part
of the meadows are " natural," it is the grasses belonging

264 LINNJEA BOREALIS NATIONAL FLOWER

to the land that are allowed to contend for a place in it,
and very beautiful they are when in full flower. The
grass is fine and soft, such as the Agrostis vulgaris^ with
its brush of fine reddish brown hairs, the yellowish green
fragrant Ccespitosa, in company of the Rammculus
acris and Rhinanthus, that pretty, innocent-looking little
creeper that clings to the grass stems, pushing rootlets
into its host all the way up, by way of sustenance. The
blue-eyed hepatica grows in the spring, the same as in
our English wood, with aconite, and saxifraga, with its
intense white bells and kidney-shaped leaves. The
crimson-blossomed crobus grows in the woods everywhere,
with sweet veronica, meadow-sweet, the clustered bell-
flower Campanula glomerafa, little graceful snake-weed,
and the hedge mustard. The handsome purple vetch
decorates the banks and fields, toad-flax and purple
meadow crane's-bill grow side by side with white campion ;
the big ox-eyed daisy flourishes everywhere in company
of the mauve field scabius, crimson foxglove, and the
little mountain pansy (Viola lutea).

To the Norwegian, however, above all these rank the
fragrant Linnwa boreaUs, a small flower with little pink-
white bells growing from the top of a long fine stem,
with two or three small leaves towards the base. This
is the national flower of Norway, and was named after
Linnaeus, the great botanist, who died in 17T8. His
arms are those now borne by the Linnaean Society of
London. He selected this little plant to bear his
name from a similarity, as he thought, between it and
himself.

Wherever the conifers predominate they pretty well
dislodge all plants that cannot grow in their shade, and
in the spruce woods the flora is very deficient in species.
It is the leafy mosses that form the carpeting Hypnum

REINDEER MOSS 265

splendeus^ ScJireheri and triquetrum, with a small
number of phanerogamous (or plants with visible
flowers). The bilbeiTy, for instance, is a characteristic
plant in the spruce woods, and the whortleberry where
grows the pine. Of these two berries the Norwegian
woods are full, most of which are left untouched, as it
does not pay to gather. There are some few species of
Lycopodlum.

In dry places where the soil is shallow are abundance
of juniper, ling, and black crow-berry. These little shrubs
ai'e among the most easily contented plants in the
Norwegian flora, and have a wide distribution over the
whole country, from sea-level to high up on the mountains.
Species of lichen also form an essential part of the
vegetation. The reindeer moss {Clandoma rang'ifer'md)
is found all over the woods, especially on large stones
and rocks, and on dry soil. In the pine woods it
often gains the upper hand, covering the ground with
a light grey carpet with its different species, and hang-
ing from the branches of the spruce with long grey
tresses.

In bogs the low growth is generally composed of
sphagnum, and on the mounds grow sedges, ling, bilberry,
blaeberry, and quantities of cloud-berries with their pretty
and palatable orange-coloured fruit.

" The eider is a large marine duck, famous for its
down, which, from its extreme lightness and elasticity,
is in great request for filling bed-coverlets." The wi-iter
of the above had evidently not met the beautiful rugs
made of the eider skins, not plucked (though they do
this by themselves later), or he would without doubt have
added the rug to the list of this famous duck's uses.
The rugs are beautiful and quite a joy to an invalid
because of their lightness and warmth, and while away

266 EIDER-DUCK RUGS

many a tedious moment, the thin weak hand wandering
caressingly over and through the soft down of the breast
that forms one side of the rug, whilst the back of the
bird forms the other. The pretty pale sea-green patch
that is only seen on the male's head when he has arrived
at the age of full dress and fatherhood, forms a unique
and pretty border. The rug deserves a line to itself,
and so does the duck, because of the rug.

This bird generally frequents low rocky islets near
the coast, and in Iceland and Norway has long been
afforded every encouragement and protection, a fine
being inflicted for killing it during the breeding season,
or even for firing a gun near its haunts. Artificial
nesting-places are in many localities contrived for its
further accommodation. From the care it receives it
has become exceedingly tame at its chief resorts, which
are strictly regarded as property. The eider is rather
clumsy, though it flies fast and dives admirably. The
female is of a dark reddish brown colour barred with
brownish black, the male when young being almost the
same colour. The males keep apart in flocks by them-
selves till the third year, when they change their sober
plumage to a pied plumage of sable beneath and a
creamy white above, and the beautiful patch of sea-
green that makes them eligible. The nest is generally
in some convenient corner among large stones, hollowed
in the soil, and furnished with a few bits of dry grass,
seaweed, or heather, and by the time the five eggs are
laid, the down is added. Then begins the robbing of
the nest. The down and egg-s are taken at intervals of
a few days by the owner of the " eider-fold," and the
birds are thus kept depositing both during the whole
season. The duck is ultimately allowed to hatch an egg
or two to keep up the stock, and the down from the

WARM AND COMFORTABLE 267

last nest is gathered after the birds have left the spot.
The drake never goes near the nest, so that our feelings
are not harrowed any longer at the thought of this
sublime parent plucking his own breast. We can with
an easy conscience snuggle under our eidys.

CHAPTER XIV

"A great while ago the world begun
With hay, ho, the wind and the rain."

Shakespeare

AGES and ages ago, so long indeed that the human
mind can hardly grasp the tremendous abyss which
parts us from that distant time, the restless water rolled
and tumbled. Perhaps it was very hot, for the world
was new and the steam would hang heavy in clouds close
down to the heaving waves. No doubt there were gales
of wind with rain, lashing hail, flying spindrift, and
boiling spume.

For untold thousands of years the old waters rolled
untenanted, breaking on the islands and continents of
those early days, washing them slowly away, and de-
positing the mud and ooze far away from shore in its
secret depths. If you should wish to realise the
enormous duration of this the earliest of geological
periods, you have only to look upward at one of the
great cliffs of Norway in which the lines of rock, which
were once sediment, lie piled one upon the other for
thousands of feet. These tell the long monotonous
story of the eternal ocean slowly but surely washing
away the dry land and storing up the silt, sand, and
gravel in its bosom.

After ages the first simple forms of living creatures
begin to appear in the soft mud. Possibly, only little

268

EOZOON 269

lumps of jelly like the protoplasmic atomic globule that
Phoo Bah was so proud of being descended from. Or
perhaps they were radiobes like those discovered by
Mr. Burke. If that is the case, they did not die
bachelors like those that appeared in his bouillon, but
had large families and multiplied exceedingly. Eozoon
is the name given by learned men to a shadowy sort of
foraminifera supposed to have grown in thick sheets
over the ancient sea-bottom that once spread far and
wide where the land of Norway now is.

The water slowly became more shallow, beds of sand
and gravel were laid down over the old ooze, and strange
animals began to be evolved, simple in structure, but
now known by terrible Greek and Latin names. These
were D'lctyonema Nornegkum, annelides (a sort of worm),
brachiopods ! corals ! cnenoids ! and sponges. Then
came seventy-seven sorts of primordial king crabs called
trilobites. One of these has been given the name of
paradoxides. On land there were twelve species of
plants, chiefly fucoids, but including some of higher
grade called Eophyton, and all these went on flourishing
through the long years, some few of them leaving traces
in the mud and sand which afterwards hardened into
solid rock.

By degrees an alteration came. Some of the old
creatures died out, or very slowly changed into new
shapes, and the period called Silurian brought other
forms of life. Stone lilies, encrindes, starfish, and
lamellibrinchs, but there were trilobites in great pro-
fusion still. Gradually the high mountains of the chain
which stretches from the Naze to the North Cape were
forced up into ridges and peaks, as our solid world cooled
and shrunk. Granite and syenitic rocks pushed through
the old sea-bottom, and besides these changes great

270 THE DEVONIAN AGE

volcanoes were pouring thick lava streams and throwing
showers of ashes. Dykes and great cracks in the earth
were filled up with molten rock, and as the world still
went on shrinking, the hard rocks of the earlier periods
were crumpled and thrust into all sorts of contortions.
Strange jagged peaks were forced up taking the most
wild and awful shapes.

Here is Sir Archibald Geikie's description : —
" Enormous slices of the older rocks have been pushed
horizontally over the top of much younger formations.
In the country lying to the south-east of the mountain
Sulitelma, Mr. P. T. Plolmguist has mapped an im-
portant thrust plane over an area of nearly forty Swedish
miles. It is so gently inclined that its outcrop winds
up the valleys, and portions of the thrust rocks have
been left by denudation as outlines. The effect of the
dislocation is to place a series of mica-schists and
granulitic quartzites (so-called Algonkian) above some
of the oldest Cambrian strata which lie immediately on
the Archaean gneiss and granite. If you arrange two
packs of cards with all the aces, kings, and queens at the
bottom to represent the older formations, and the lesser
cards at the top to stand for the newer, you can by
squeezing the packs together make the court cards
override the commoners, and this will illustrate what
took place in the mountains of Norway during Devonian
times millions of years ago."

I daresay the whole face of the country was rather
rough in those old days, but the weather has been acting
on it ever since. The sun has scorched, the frost has
split and chipped great icefields, and glaciers have
ground, and smoothed, and polished, and scratched
rounding mountain tops, and scouped out valleys and
fjords. The ganoid fishes which swam in these old

TRIASSIC AND JURASSIC TIMES 271

waters have left scales, teeth, and bones which give us
a notion as to what sort of creatures existed in the
Devonian sea.

Time went on, and after the Old Red Sandstone came
the Carboniferous period. There is only one small
island — Andsen — in Norway which shows any trace of
the great forests of tree-ferns, conifers, and giant horse-
tails which flourished for so long in what is now England,
France, and Germany, We may suppose that Norway
stood up a tableland too high or too bleak for such a
growth.

The Trias and the Jurassic times also came and passed
away. All sorts of new creatures were evolved. Great
lizards with fish-like flippers, Plesiosanns, long-necked
and fierce, Megalosaurus, and other dreadful monsters
filled the seas of the south. But there is no sign of
them among the Norwegian mountains, though the
lias of England shows their bones in great numbers.
The rains of these days continued to wear down and
furrow the softer parts of the Norse rocks ; valleys
were slowly eroded and mountain ridges splintered and
sharpened. The age of Pleosau and Iguanodon followed,
and afterwards came the time when the chalk slowly
formed at the bottom of the open sea.

Then, in Eocene times, the last great epoch of
mountain-making took place, and the Alps as we now
know them were forced up and crumpled, flat sediments
becoming huge mountain masses.

The Miocene and Pliocene, like the other ages,
left the Norway rocks still standing high to the
wear and chafe of rain, hail, and scorchins: sun.
But the great Ice Age, which followed after, buried
the whole country under 6000 or 7000 feet of solid
glacier. Only the peaks of the highest mountains stood

272 THE ICE AGE

like islands in the tremendous dome of solid frozen
snow.

The enormous weight of the inland ice forced the
surrounding glaciers outward in all directions. To
understand how the dais and fjords were carved and
worn out of the living rock, we must try to realise
what was taking place all through this dreary period.
Every scrap of ice was on the move. In every little
valley, even in minute crannies between the rocky
walls, the ice was creeping faster in the middle, slower
at the sides. Everything in its way was either
pushed along with the moving mass, or was slowly
worn away, the hardest stone being scratched and
polished.

Wherever the rain of old days had worn a chasm, the
ice, with its moving granite boulders, rubbed and scored
it deeper and wider. The under ice only pushed its
way down the dais just as we see the shrunken glaciers
of the present day. The eddies and backwaters in
these races of tide made cataracts tumbling over steep
cliffs or squeezing between narrow gorges. But this
lower ice river was generally covered by another flow,
pushing in quite another direction, sometimes even at
right angles, so that, whilst the valley was being scored
and plained in the direction of its windings, the peaks
were grooved athwart the flow of the undercurrent by
quite another stream. The force of the ice cap, and
the distance it pushed great rocks and stones, seem
almost incredible. At Laurwig there is a kind of
syenite which is quite characteristic. Boulders of this
very stone have been carried as far as Hamburg, right
across Denmark, and even to Holderness in Yorkshire.
Try to fancy the North Sea all packed with great
icebergs breaking away from the giant glaciers of

DEEP FJORDS 273

Norway and drifting over to the country which we
now call England.

The fjords, in some places 5000 feet deep, and the
basins of great lakes, were hollowed in the same way,
the detritus being carried hundreds of miles. All
round the west coast of Norway there is to this day a
long ridge of stone and gravel under the sea, a short
distance from land. This is nothing but a line of
moraine, where the old glaciers terminated in tall ice
cliffs like those of Greenland or Spitzbergen. Indeed,
the ice cap of north-east land, or the glaciers behind
Prince Charles'* foreland give us a very vivid picture
of the appearance presented by Norway during the
great Ice Age.

Some of the fjords have been worn to very great
lengths and depths. Sogne Fjord, 136 miles long,
is 4000 feet deep in places, and the telegraph cable
which is laid across the Faerlands Fjord hangs in a
great bight, instead of resting on the rocks below.
The moving ice has in almost all cases rubbed the
bottom flat with rounded sides, so that a section of
the usual fjord is in the form of a great U. The
pudding-like, smooth rocks called 7'oches moutonnees in
the Alps are common all over Norway. Often these
give a very desolate and forbidding look to the scenery ;
not a blade of grass or sprig of birch is able to find
a foothold in the polished surface ; and the undula-
tions stretch unbroken over many thousand acres.

Besides the great terminal moraine which underlies
the sea all round the coast of Norway, the glaciers
have dropped sand, gravel, and boulders in all sorts
of situations. In some valleys one may meet rows of
regular terraces, neatly sloping ridge behind ridge, for
all the world like the fieldworks of some army of
18

274 NEOLITHIC MAN

giants. Often the sand is piled up into what in any
other country might be called a respectable hill ; and
where the streams have washed away the foot, forming
a cliff, one may notice the layers of deposition cutting
in straight lines through the mass.

Then again, among countless clusters of rocky islands
studded round the coasts, one may often find a ridge of
shingle stretching right out as though a Titan had tried
to throw a dam across the lake or fjord. In fact, there
is not a valley in all Scandinavia which does not show
traces of the tremendous forces at work during this
long and dreary period.

There were men in those inclement days, for rude,
stone weapons have been found in the caves they in-
habited, in company with the bones of reindeer, bear,
and woolly rhinoceros. Indeed, the cavemen of the
mountains of Auverne have actually drawn pictures of
the mammoth with his great curved tusks and long
bristles. These have come down to our time, to show
us how much the artist of that distant past could do
merely by scraping his bit of ivory with a sharp stone.
In the late Stone Age, Norway must have had a settled
population, for the places where the old weapons were
hammered and chipped into shape have been discovered.
All along the coast, even far beyond the Arctic Circle,
the great mass of flakes, and fragments of hard stone,
and the numbers of finished and unfinished tools and
scrapers, show that quite a wholesale manufacture was
carried on.

It seems probable that Neolithic man in Norway lived
mostly by hunting and fishing, though in the south, across
the sea, there can be no doubt that cattle-breeding was
also carried on. The stone weapons are in many cases
quite beautiful in shape, and clearly show what skilful

EARLY WORKMANSHIP 275

workmen must have fashioned these flakes from the
pebbles of flint sandstone or eruptive rock. In high
latitudes another group of stone implements has been
found. They are almost always of slate, and are also
remarkable for their characteristic shape. The only
kitchen midden from the Stone Age, yet found in
Norway, only contained these so-called arctic stone
implements. It is thought that these were the work
of a different race, perhaps the forefathers of the
Lapps. Indeed, the Lapps continued to use stone
weapons down to quite historic times.

Leaving these, we come to the Vikings, whose weapons,
found with their peculiar northern ornamentation and
superb ring coats-of-mail, show the skill of the people in
working iron. A great many of their early swords,
and other weapons, were damascened, even as far back
as the beginning of the Christian era. This shows
either that this art was practised in the north lono-
before its introduction into the rest of Europe from
Damascus by the Crusaders, or, that the Norsemen
were so far advanced as to be able to appreciate the
artistic manufactures of southern nations.

The remnant of articles of clothing, with graceful
patterns interwoven with threads of gold and silver,
which have fortunately escaped entire destruction, show
the existence of great skill in weaving. Entire suits
of wearing apparel remain to tell us how some of the
people dressed in the beginning of our era.

Beautiful vessels of silver and gold also testify to
the taste and luxury of those early times. The know-
ledge of the art of writing and of gilding is clearly
demonstrated. In some cases, nearly twenty centuries
have not been able to tarnish or obliterate the splendour
of the gilt jewels of the Northmen. We find amono-

276 jOtnar and thursar

their remains, either of their own manufacture or im-
ported, perhaps as spoils of war, repousse work of
gold or silver, bronze, silver, and woodwork covered
with the thinnest sheets of gold ; the filigree work
displays great skill, and some of it could not be sur-
passed now. Many objects are ornamented with niello^
and of so thorough a northern pattern that they
are incontestably of home manufacture. The art of
enamelling seems also to have been known to the
artificers of the period. A splendid collection exists
in the Museum of Christiania and Bergen. And should
anyone bent on visiting Norway first read and study
Du Chaillu's Viking ^ge, he would find his interest
in the country quadrupled.

One may fancy how, in very early days, tales were
told over the fire, during the long winter nights.
Dreadful stories exist of the Jotnar, who lived in the
frost and snow, the giants, and the Thursar, or
monsters. Some personified the most inimical of the
forces of nature. Others, the world before it w^as
formed — a chaos. They were older than the gods —
these giants. The chief god, Odin, seems to have been
nmch like Woden — the German All Father, Many
were the tales of his son Thor, the special god of the
Norsemen, who made war upon the Jotnar with his
terrible hammer — Mjolnir the crusher, otherwise the
thunderbolt. There were tales of Asgaard, the fortified
city of the gods, where was the special home of all
heroes, — Valholl. Odin would ride through the air
on his eight-footed steed Sleipnir the swift. His escort
of maidens, on their white bare-backed horses, would hurry
to the battle to choose the slain.

" Their horses shook themselves, and from their manes fell
Dew in the deep dales, and on the high hills hail."

ICELANDIC POETS 277

There were besides these tales of the gods and the
Valkyrie many stories of heroes. Siegfried of the
Nibelungen legend is transplanted to Norway and
called Sigurd. The Volsung Atila the Hun, called
Etzel in German, in the eddas of Norway he becomes
Atli.

Though songs were composed for hundreds of years
it was not until the Vikings had made settlements in
Ireland and the highlands of Scotland that the real
school of poetry arose among the colonists. Mr.
Powel calls it "a magnificent school which ran its
course apart, and perished before the thirteenth century."
There were dramatic and didactic poetry, dirges and
battle songs, but there was one quality that the authors
ever aimed at — melody of sound.

The Norse settlers in Ireland also spread north to
Iceland, and even to Greenland, where the saga makes
its appearance.

Mr. Powel says : — " The characteristics of this western
school are no doubt the result of the contact of
Scandinavian colonists of the Viking-tide, living lives
of the wildest adventure, tossed by war and storm,
with an imaginative and civilised race, that exercised
upon them a very strong and lasting influence (the
effects of which were also felt in Iceland, but in a
different way). The frequent inter-marriages, which
mingled the best families of either race, are sufficient
proof of the close communion of Northmen and Celts
in the ninth and tenth centuries, while there are in
the poems themselves traces of Celtic mythology,
language, and manners. The first Icelandic poets
were very remarkable men, of good birth (nearly always
too of Celtic blood on one side at least). They leave
Iceland young, and attach themselves to the Kings and

278 EDDAS

Earls of the north, hving in their courts as their
henchmen."

The custom of having a court poet was of course
taken from the Irish or the Highlanders, who from
the very earliest days used to listen to songs of the
bards. In Norway, about the time of Erik Blodoks, the
son of Harald Fairhair, it was quite the thing to have
a dark-haired, turbulent, adventurous Celt hanging about,
who could dream wonders, and sing divinely.

" The best and earliest of the court poems are written
in the old eddic metre and spirit, the same as those
in which the best of the mythological poems are written,"
says Mr. C. F. Keary.

But the regular race of court bards who began in
the time of King Haakon write in a new metre, and
in a style which, as the ages go on, grows more and
more affected and precieuoc. At last the scalds became
little more than rhyming chroniclers of the deeds of
the Kings. But Hornklof, Glum Geirason, Einar, and
Halfred Vandraedaskald (called the troublesome bard)
were more distinguished.

Some of the eddas give very weird pictures of the
underworld. Sometimes some dead ancestor is summoned
from the funeral mound to answer to questions. The
hero Svipdag (or the daybreak) goes to rescue Menglod,
a fair lady who is guarded by a monster in a hall,
girt round by flickering flames. On his way to the
underworld he passes by the cairn of his mother, and
calls to her —

"Awake thou, Groa, awake, sweet lady,
At the door of death I wake thee,
Rememberest how thy son thou badest
Unto thy cairn to come."

Then after asking him why he has called her who is

SAGAS 279

come to mould and is gone from the world of men,
she teaches him charms to keep him safe on his
journey.

Voluspa is the most tremendous poem — a prophecy
of the end of all things. When all living creatures on
earth have perished of cold, the gods of Asgaard
with the heroes of Valhalla come out to fight in the
last great battle.

" Swart grows the sunshine and no summer after ;
AH the winds are death-winds."

Then the last day dawns. Egdir the grim sits on a
funeral mound striking his harp. Fjalar the red cock
crows, and his summons is answered by another from
beneath the earth, the hell-hound bays fiercely, and
breaks its fetters. Then the Jotunheim roar. How is
it with the ^Esir, How with the Alfar.? and the dwarfs
moan before their stony doors. Know ye what that
betokens ? This is the doomsday Rignavok. Odin
fights with Fenvir the hell-hound ; Thor fights with the
great serpent who encircles the world ; Frey fights the
fire-god Surt, and at last when all gods and hell-hounds
have been killed, then only the Death-flame stalks un-
hindered on the earth.

" The sun darkens ; the earth sinks into the sea.
P^om heaven fall the bright stars.
The fire-wind storms round the all-nourishing tree ;
The flame assails high heaven itself."

Besides the eddas, which were in verse, there were
the sagas. These were at first handed down from father
to son by word of mouth, for runes were only used
for short inscriptions, and some of the sagas are as

28o AUD, QUEEN OF DUBLIN

long as a three-volume novel is in present day ; like
the best of the eddas, the sagas were produced by a
race half Celtic and half Scandinavian.

About 870 A.D,, Aud, Queen of Dublin, who was the
daughter of a Norse King in the Hebrides, called Ketil
Flatnose, made her way to Iceland with some of her
granddaughters, and at last settled on a large territory.
The doings of these early colonists and their descendants,
who were looked upon as distinguished persons, have
been handed down to us in the Lamlnarna-hok — "The
Book of the Settlement."

Mr. Keary compares these early travellers to the
Mayjlmver emigrants, or the knickerbocker families, for
they afterwards formed a sort of aristocracy in the
island. Many other Irish and Highland settlers came,
and gradually as there grew up in Iceland a race of
story-tellers, saga-making became an art. How such
long stories could be committed to memory alone is a
wonder. They are full of minute details of all the life
of that distant day — of the work on the farm, the
hauling up of the ship, the tending of the herds, of
the forms to be observed at the wooing of maidens, the
casting of spells, or the exposition of the law. The
whole is wrought with a wealth of vivid picturesqueness
quite its own.

Holmsnega Saga — the adventures of a gang of outlaws
in whalesfirth — is one of the earliest. Then there is
Haensa Novis Saga, in which one of two rivals burns
the other in his own house, Vatnsdaela Saga and
Vapnfirdhinga Saga are both stories of blood-feuds.
Indeed, the plot of most sagas turns upon either the
rivalry of two heroes for the love of one woman, or the
story of a blood-feud which is carried on between two
families from generation to generation.

BURNT NJAL 281

Burnt Njal is said to be the Icelandic Saga in its
very finest development. It is very long-winded, and
begins with the great-grandfathers and grandmothers
of the principal characters ; we hear of the loves and
battles of many uncles and cousins, though the author
is apt to get rid of those which are inconvenient or
tiresome by saying suddenly, " And now, Vigu (or Glum,
or whoever the distant relation happens to be) goes out
of our story." Gunnar and Njal are fast friends, and
have sworn that nothing shall make them quarrel,
and this oath they keep till death ; though Hallgerda,
the wife of Gunnar (who by the way is a virago who
has got rid of her first husband), is in bitter feud
with Bergthora, the wife of Njal, and owing to the
egging on of the two women the servants and herdmen
of both friends are waylaid and killed from time to
time. Whenever there is a fresh murder the crime has
to be wiped out by a forfeit of money. We have a
wonderful picture of this strange period, when in spite
of the wholesale slayings and universal recognition of
the duty of revenge, there is side by side a most intense
love for law and order ; for all crimes have to be
discussed before the Thing or local parliament, and there
the penalty is awarded.

Hallgerda, finding that she cannot stir up her husband
to avenge the slights she supposes herself to have
received from the family of Njal, at last works on
Sigmund, an Easterling, who is staying in the house, to
sing songs mocking the beardless carle, as she calls him,
for Njal has no beard. He is reported to be throwing
dung over his land, and Hallgerda asks why he does
not cast some over his beard. To Njal's sons she gives
the name of dung-beardlings.

The song is soon repeated by gossips to Bergthora,

282 THE BEARDLESS CARLE

the wife of Njal, and when her sons come into their
supper, she speaks, " Gifts have been given you, father
and sons, and ye will be no true men unless ye repay
them somehow/"'

" What gifts are these ? " asks Skarphedinn.

" You, my sons,"" says Bergthora, " have got one gift
between you all. You are called ' dung-beardlings,' but
my husband is the ' beardless carle/ "

" Ours is no woman"'s nature," says Skarphedinn, " that
we should fly into a rage at every little thing ! '*''

"And yet Gunnar was wroth for your sakes," says
she, " and he is thought to be good-tempered. But if
ye do not take vengeance for this wrong, ye will avenge
no shame. "■"*

" The carline, our mother, thinks this fine sport,"*^ says
Skarphedinn, and smiled scornfully as he spoke ; but
still the sweat burst out upon his brow and red flecks
came over his cheeks (his ashen pale cheeks) such as
was not his wont.

Grim was silent, and bit his lip. Helgi made no sign,
and he said never a word. Hanskuld went off" with
Bergthora.

She came into the room again, and fretted and fumed
much.

Njal spoke, and said, " ' Slow and sure,"* says the proverb,
mistress ; and so it is with many things, though they
try men''s tempers. There are always two sides to a story,
even when revenge is taken."

But at even, when Njal was come into his bed, he
heard that an axe came against the panel, and rang
loudly. And there was another shut bed, and there
the shields were hung up ; and he sees that they
are away. He said, " Who have taken down our
shields.?"

BERGTHORA'S AVENGERS 283

" Thy sons went out with them," says Bergthora.

Njal pulled his shoes on his feet and went out at once,
and round to the other side of the house, and seeing
that they are taking their course right up the slope, he
said, " Whither away, Skarphedinn ? "

" To look after thy sheep," he answers,

" You would not then be armed," said Njal, " if
you meant that, and your errand must be something
else."

Then Skarphedinn said, " We shall fish for salmon,
father."

"'Twould be well, then, if it turned out so that the
prey does not get away from you."

They went their way, but Njal went to his bed, and
he said to Bergthora, " Thy sons were out of doors,
all of them with arms, and now thou must have egged
them on to something ! "

" I will give them my heartfelt thanks," said Bergthora,
" if they tell me the slaying of Sigmund."

Now Njal's sons went up to Fleetlith, and were that
night under the lith, and when the day began they
came near to Lithend. That same morning Sigmund
and Skiolld rose up and meant to go to the stud-horses ;
they had bridles with them, and caught the horses that
were in the farmyard, and rode away on them. They
found the horses between two brooks. Skarphedinn
caught sight of them, for Sigmund was in bright
clothing.

Skarphedinn said, " See you now the red elf yonder,
lads.?"

They looked that way and said they saw him.

Skarphedinn spoke again. " Thou, Hanskuld, shall
have nothing to do with it, for thou wilt often be sent
out alone without due need. But I mean Sigmund for

284 SIGMUND

myself ; methinks that is like a man ; but Grim and Helgi
shall try to slay Skiolld."

Hanskuld sat him down, but they went till they came
up to them. Skarphedinn said to Sigmund, "Take thy
weapons and defend thyself; that is more needful now
than to make mocking songs on me and my brothers."

Sigmund took up his weapons ; but Skarphedinn
waited the while. Skiolld turned against Grim and
Helgi, and they fell hotly to fight. Sigmund had a helm
on his head, and a shield at his side, and was girt with
a sword. His spear was in his hand. Now he turns
against Skarphedinn and thrusts at once at him with his
spear, and the thrust came on his shield. Skarphedinn
dashes the spearhaft in two, and lifts up his axe, and
hews at Sigmund, and cleaves his shield down to below
the handle. Sigmund drew his sword and cut at
Skarphedinn, and the sword cut into his shield, so that
it stuck fast. Skarphedinn gave the shield such a quick
twist that Sigmund let go his sword. Then Skarphedinn
hews at Sigmund with his axe the " Ogress of War."
Sigmund had on a corselet. The axe came on his
shoulder. Skarphedinn cleft the shoulder-blade right
through, and at the same time pulled the axe towards
him. Sigmund fell down upon his knees, but sprang up
again at once.

" Thou hast lifted low to me already," says
Skarphedinn ; " but still thou shalt fall upon thy
mother's bosom ere we two part."

" 111 is that, then," says Sigmund.

Skarphedinn gave him a blow on the helm, and after
that dealt Sigmund his death-blow. Grim cut off
Skiolld's foot at the ankle-joint; but Helgi thrust
him through with his spear, and he got his death there
and then. Skarphedinn saw Hallgerda's shepherd, just

SKARPHEDINN SINGS A MOCKING SONG 285

as he had hewn off Sigmund's head. He handed the
head to the shepherd, and bade him bear it to Hallgerda,
and said she would know whether that head had made
jeering songs about them, and with that he sang a
mocking song on Hallgerda.

CHAPTER XV

SPITZBERGEN

IT would be in vain to attempt to convey in words an
adequate idea of the beauty of the land-locked bay
in which we found ourselves, after the two long days at
sea. This arctic summer with its life of four months'
continual daylight like some eastern fairy tale, set in a
solitude in which all impressions become lasting. The
weird spike-headed mountain-tops are dimly seen through
the mists that slowly loose asunder, discovering peak
after peak clothed with ice fronds to their summits.
Each being hollowed out on the northern side, the basin
thus made becomes filled with snow. The mountains
follow one behind the other a succession of great
solidified Maves.

The sparkling east glacier is some three miles wide.
The highest points of the mountains being thrust through
its surface like islands in a sea of ice ; range after range
rolling on, all of the same formation. Every now and
then a report is heard echoing over the bay, as huge
pieces of ice break off and fall into the water, leaving
a patch of the purest gi-een and blue on the wall-like
face, the detached portions floating away in weird
graceful shapes. On the south, the flower-strewn beach
leads up to steep hills of shale, divided by a stream from
the big moraine, pushed in front of the Fox glacier.
Towards the west, Bell Mount and the placid waters of

SPITZBERGEN 287

Bell Sound sparkle and scintillate in the cold, bright
sunlight. The air like that of Switzerland in winter is
rarefied and keen.

Spitzbergen, this snow-clad cluster of islands, lost in
the solitudes of the Arctic Ocean, is 400 miles away from
the most northern point of Norway. It was nevertheless
well known for at least four centuries to whalers and
seal hunters. It is interesting to the whole of Europe,
on account of the scientific expeditions for which it has
been selected as a base for attempts to reach the North
Pole. Here it was that Parry started in 1827 on the
sledge journey which brought him to within 480 miles
of the Pole ; this the starting-point, too, of the investiga-
tions which led Charles Martins to his brilliant generalisa-
tions of the Flora, present and past, of the earth.

Spitzbergen really consists of six large and a great
number of smaller islands. The biggest. West Spitz-
bergen, is shaped like a wedge pointing to the south,
and is deeply indented by long branching fjords. If
those who take an interest in charts will look, they will
find that high mountains some 4560 feet above the sea
on the Horn Sound cover its southern parts, while a wide
plateau, covered by a thick ice-sheet, occupies the north.
Several fjords, Horn Sound, Bell Sound, Ice Fjord (15
miles wide and 80 long), the double fjords of King's Bay
and Cross Bay on the west, and the Liefde, Wiide, and
Lomune Bays on the north, penetrate the island.

One of the ramifications of Dickson Bay, in the
beautiful Ice Fjord, nearly reaches the head of the West
Fjord in Wiide Bay, almost dividing the island. A long
narrow island, called Prince Charlie''s Foreland, with
peaks rising to nearly 5000 feet high, runs parallel to
a portion of the west coast of West Spitzbergen, from
which it is separated by the barred channel of the

288 THE LIFE-GIVING GULF STREAM

Foreland Sound. The broad Stor Fjord, or Wybe Jansz
water, separates the main island from the others to the
east, namely. Edge Island and Barents. A few bare
peaks protrude above the snow and ice with which the
mountains are covered.

On the north-east of Spitzbergen lies the Island of
North Eastland, round which on the eastern and southern
side runs a dotted line, showing that this inhospitable
part of No Man's Land has never been explored. The last
name to the north is Cape Leigh Smith, and on the south
Cape Mohn. This island appears like a large plateau
covered by an ice sheet 2000 to 3000 feet in thickness.
This slowly moves towards the east and discharges into
the sea by a huge ice wall some 150 miles long, forming
the broadest glacier known.

It makes one think what a woeful place Northern
Europe would be without the Gulf Stream. Up here
after washing the shores of Norway and sending a branch
to the east, the life-giving Gulf Stream flows to the
western shores of Spitzbergen, leaving an open passage
which permits the whaler to approach the coast even
■under the most unfavourable conditions of ice in the
Arctic regions. Driftwood brought from lower latitudes,
glass-floats of Norwegian fishermen, and even the large
seeds of the Eutada gigalohium carried by the Gulf
Stream from the Gulf of Mexico, are found at the northern
extremity of Spitzbergen. Spring comes in June, and by
the end of the month the thermometer has ceased to sink
below the freezing point at night. July, August, and
September are the best months. In September, autumn
sets in on shore, though the whalers continue cruising
until the end of the month, and even reach the highest
latitudes. Then all is dark, and the glacier goddess
resumes her sway.

THE PHANTOM SHIP 289

On the 8th July started the steamship He de France,
the passengers embarking at Dunkerque for a "croisiere
dans le monde polaire." The cover of the itinerary was
decorated with a white bear holding a placard describing
the most exciting events that might be expected during
the voyage of thirty days. In the background were
prowling bears stalking the roasting meats with out-
stretched paws, and lolling tongues ; behind glimmered
the glacier peaks. There were varied hunts. The prey
was to consist of whales, reindeer, "au lagopede des
Neiges," " aux petits echassiers et aux gi'ands palimpedes
de Tocean boreal." Eider, bernache goose, arctic petrels,
pigeons, cormorants, the scarce blue fox, and great seals
of the ice-pack.

" Chasseresses ou non," the ladies were specially invited
to take this cruise, for only on board this lie de France
would it be possible to make a voyage to Spitzbergen
and the ice-pack with the amount of comfort that they
very legitimately claimed. A very interesting cruise it
must have been, and delightful too, to have Professor
Nordenskjold as director of the scientific part of the
voyage.

Wherever the Vectis steamed, the He de France had
just left. Her name in giant letters of white was painted
on the cliffs of the Naero Fjord. In Recherche Bay we
inquired of the sailors on board the whalers. Had the
He de France been there ? Had the passengers shot any
bears ? " Yes," was the answer to the first question ;
" No," to the second. Had they caught any foxes ?
" No." It was not the season for either the one or
the other.

We landed and scaled the loose side of the moraine of
the Fox Glacier. Nearing the top we were soon over-
looking the long stretch of a partly melted surface of
19

290 THE HARDY HUNTER

sodden brown half-frozen ice, seamed by great cracks
which extended in all directions over the surface, a
perfect picture of a desolation where foot of man has never
trod. Something glittered among the stones : the brass
head of a new cartridge, a real trace of the phantom
ship and its hardy hunters. Had this particular sports-
man sat there long in his thick cloak with its pointed
hood ? Had he been well armed ? Was he alone ? Did
he, as I did, feel a little afraid and constantly look over
his shoulder, expecting the bear, that might be hungry
even in summer when during this perpetual day it is
so difficult to remember how long ago the dinner had
been, and how soon breakfast might be due ? Yes, here
was one cartridge, and a little farther on another, with
the mystic words, " Cartouche pour poudres au bois
pyroseyle sans long feu Ste Fse des munitions, Paris."
I have my trophy in company of many scraps of Jurassic
stone, mosses, flowers, and slips of whalebone, to which
I have since added a short cutting from a Norwegian
newspaper : —

" The great tourist steamer Isle de France has returned
to Tromso from Spitzbergen. Outside Red Bay, on the
northern corner of the island, the steamer ran aground
on a hidden shoal at a rate of twelve miles an hour.
After twenty-four hours' waiting, a little Norwegian
steamer Express arrived, and was despatched with a
message to the Dutch cruiser Frieslaml, which was lying
in Widje Bay. Friesland arrived next day, and succeeded
in drawing the steamer off the shoal. The passengers
showed their gratitude by a collection on board, which
brought in 13,000 francs for distribution among the
Friesland' s crew."

Yes, certainly, these passengers had braved all risks !

The carcasses of whales denuded of their blubber,

%

■■ i

u

H.M.S. CALLIPSO 291

and all that can be made use of, lie stranded at the edge
of the tide, emitting a horrible, choking smell. Lucky
is the man or woman who has cigarettes or tobacco to
smoke, or chocolate to eat, anything to palliate the
offensive odour.

Up the slope are the graves of the unfortunate fellows
who have died on the whalers, and lie buried on this in-
hospitable coast. There are two lank, worn wood crosses,
renewed by the men of H.M.S. CalUpso in 1895. The
scant moss and debris of grey loose planks lie about
amongst big scattered stones, as if the forces of nature,
or perhaps more likely the polar bears, had tried to
disturb the resting-place of these poor bones.

From a short distance away the land looks barren, as
though no flowers existed, but a few steps up the grey
pebble beach the foot sinks into a springy moss that
covers the foreshore in rings some five feet across. In
winter the snow lies in innumerable mounds, which on
the approach of summer naturally first melt round the
rim, where flowers immediately spring up. The central
portion of the snow mound not melting till late in the
summer season, leaves behind a bare, barren, circular
patch, bleached and grey like the ashes of a dead fire.
These barren circles enclosed by the polar vegetation
looked on as a whole have a most peculiar effect, and one
to be seen nowhere else.

During a walk of a few hours some twenty different
species of plants were collected by one of the passengers,
all blooming and making the most of their short summer.
The prettiest, I think, was Dryas actopetala, with its
cream-coloured fleshy leaves and brilliant yellow centre,
which strewed the shore plentifully. Every here and
there small stunted tufts of yellow or white Iceland
poppies grew. Great cushions of saxifraga, thickly starred

292 FAMINE BREAD

with crimson blossom, produced a purple tint visible
from a long way off. Others of the same family had pale
pink petals, deep crimson centre, and large corolla. There
were more of the same tribe common to similar situations,
flowers nearly sessile grew on low dense tufts of radical
leaves ; also saxifraga five to six inches in height, sturdy
with thick stems and greenish flowers in a compact
spike, in company of a little delicate white flower with
petals like our English milk-wort. The leaves of the
latter are a pale green, and very close together, and
the flower has an exceedingly sweet smell. Silene acantis
and Moss campion were abundant, also Oxyria reni-
fermis.

The bard who sang of " hanging his harp on a willow
tree" would have been nonplussed could he have seen
these little polar mites. The only tree in Spitzbergen
is a willow. It is not more than two inches high, with
but a few tiny leaves. On the higher slopes, 1500 feet
above the sea, the poppies Luziila hyperhorea and Stellaria
Edwards'd are occasionally met with. Mosses, mostly
European acquaintances, cover all places where peat has
accumulated. The slopes of the crags and the blocks of
stone on the beach are sometimes entirely covered with
a luxuriant moss and lichen vegetation, among the last
being the so-called " famine bread," Umb'ilicaria arctica,
which has maintained the life of so many arctic travellers.

Flowering plants are represented by as many as
ninety-six species, of which eighty-one grew in Green-
land, and sixty-nine in Scandinavia ; forty-three species
are Alpine cosmopolites, and have been met with on the
Himalayas. According to Mr. Naathorst's researches
in 1882, the flora of Spitzbergen is composed as follows : —
" Rosacese, 7 species ; Saxifrageae, 10 ; Salix, 2 ; Com-
positae, 5 ; Seraphulariaceae, 2 ; Ericacea, 2 ; Gramineae,

THE FOX AND EAST GLACIERS 293

23 ; Cyperaceae, 12 ; Juucaceae, 6 ; Filices (Fern), 2 ;
Lycopodiaceae, 1.

"The whole of this flora immigrated during the
post-glacial period, which was warmer than the present.
Although thus limited in number, the flora is suggestive
in its distribution. The vegetation of the south has a
decidedly Lappish or European Alpine character, while
that of the north coast is decidedly American, and re-
calls that of Melville Island. Many flowering plants
which are common in north-west Spitzbergen are absent
from the east coast, where the cold current is inimical to
both flora and fauna ; but, on the other hand, one moss
{Poltia hyperharea) and one lichen {Usnea melascautJid)
are found there which are of American origin, and grow
both in North America and on the Cordilleras."

Our stay in Recherche Bay was a most opportune
moment for seeing and hearing all about the whale
flshery. The Veci'is had let go her anchor in the centre
of the bay, in the best possible position for seeing the
beauties of the Fox and East Glaciei's. The towering
Jurassic mountains rose all round. Some way ahead lay
four sailing whalers, with their attendant small steamers,
each with a crow's nest at the top of the foremast, and a
harpoon gun in the bow. The crews of larger vessels
were all hard at work, cutting up the whales that lay
alongside. Other fish were moored astern, awaiting their
turn ; poor blown-out things ! they looked like clincher-
built boats turned bottom up. Thousands of birds were
settling on them and screaming all round. It was possible
to borrow a small boat from the ship in the cause of art,
to make a tour of the whalers and gather information.

At first sight it was all horrible, and the smell till well
to windward, terrible. The men in the first ship were
just stripping off* the blanket-pieces, one end of which

294 CUTTING UP WHALES

was hooked on to a rope which was hauled gently up to
the yardarm ; the men dexterously and very neatly cut
off the long strips of blubber with very sharp slightly-
curved knives on long wooden handles. The whole
surface of the whale was so horrid and slippery that the
men had continually to rub their hands in, and sprinkle
sand on the carcass to enable them to stand. It did not
take more than fifteen minutes to strip one side of the
whale, and the whole was then slowly turned by a line
passed under the body and a hook put through the skin
of the belly and then parbuckled by the winch.

All the time the fulmar flew round screaming and
settling, tearing at the flesh and disputing the proprietor-
ship of the poor dead mammal with the workers. The
crimson water round the ship was covered by thousands
of these fluttering, fighting petrels. They stretched
away astern in the tide as thick as they could pack, so
gorged and heavy that they fluttered along the surface
of the water for yards without being able to rise. To
my mind the birds made a horrible exhibition of them-
selves, and quite did away with the delightful fascination
the ordinary herring gull is wont to inspire.

Yarrell, in his book of British birds, gives much
interesting information about the fulmar petrel. He
writes that it is only a winter visitor to the more
southern parts of our own coast, but is a herald of polar
regions, meeting the ships, as, indeed, it did ours on
approaching Spitzbergen. Here its colonies cover the
cliff's in company of the glacous gull. The fulmar breeds
on the face of the highest precipices, but only on such as
are furnished with small grassy shelves. It makes a
mere shallow excavation in the turf, lined with dried
grass, in which the bird deposits a single egg of a pure
white colour. The young of the bird are thickly covered

FULMAR PETREL 295

with long white down, are very clamorous when handled,
and in their excitement vomit a quantity of clear oil.
The old birds have the same nasty habit, which one
might imagine would greatly disconcert an amateur
sportsman, more especially as the oil, which is of a clear
amber colour, does not smell nice. The bird, its young,
and even the rock which it frequents, have a peculiar and
a very disagreeable odour. Fulmar oil is one of the most
valuable productions of St. Kilda.

The fulmar from afar scents the whaler, and joins
the ship immediately on passing the Shetland Islands,
and accompanies it through the trackless ocean to the
highest accessible latitudes. It keeps an eager eye for
the smallest particle of fatty substance, and when carrion
is scarce, these vulture-like gulls follow the living whale,
and often by their peculiar motions, hovering at the
surface of the water, point out its direction to the
fishermen. Luckily they cannot make much impression
on the whale till man or some more powerful animal
tears away the blubber. This bird has a cruel bill,
shaped like that of a parrot. The young birds have
white heads and brownish coloured backs and wings,
very like the colour of the young swan. The older birds
change to pure white head and breast and grey back,
the same colour as our ordinary grey gull. I have spoken
here of the fulmar at such length owing to the fact that
all on board our ship were so interested and rather
horrified at the goings on of these voracious birds, and
I am sure that Spitzbergen will ever be associated in our
minds with the fulmar.

We pulled away past the steamer to a barque of about
700 tons, astern of which were four carcasses of whales.
The harpoon was still sticking in the flesh of one of them,
and from it a stream of blood oozed, staining the water

296 A WHALER

crimson. Here again the fulmar fought and jostled,
snapping in the greasy mixture. As we approached the
ladder, we noticed that the whole of the waterline of the
barque was thickly coated with a layer of grease. The
steps were also covered, and the hand-rope felt almost
like a tallow-dip. The decks were black and all the
poop lumbered with oil barrels. Just abaft the mast
were the great cauldrons into which a strange engine, not
unlike a mud-dredger in shape, poured a continuous
stream of blubber, cut into lumps about a foot square.
A hot, greasy smell pervaded everything. Just at this
moment the gory carcass of a whale, from which the
head, tail, fins, and every scrap of fat had been cut, was
cast adrift, and floated away, the centre of a screaming
cloud of fulmar.

The forecastle of the barque was piled up high with the
relics of the poor dismembered monster. Jaw-bones,
fins, and great strips of blubber, some ten to fifteen feet
long, were being sorted, and carved into squares. Three
men in overalls dragged them hither and thither with
iron hooks, stamping and sliding over the elastic and
slippery surface of the pile. The squares of fat were
flung down into the waist, where the aforesaid engine
was cutting away with knives of the very finest steel.
" Diamond steel,"" said one of the greasy crew. It must
be hard, for now and then the knife meets with bits of
the shell which gives the coup de grace. This bomb
explodes when the poor whale dives, stung by the
harpoon. From the knives of this giant sausage machine,
the cubes of blubber were caught in buckets which hung
on an endless chain, these carried them up over a wheel,
and turning a somersault pitched them right into the
steaming cauldrons.

" How long have you been a whaler ? " the man was

FAUNA 297

asked who was doing the honours of the ship. " Oh, I
only come this cruise. We got here the middle of May.'*'
" When do you leave ? " " Oh, the middle of August ;
after that, all ice here. There is two whaling steamers,
and one tugboat to each ship,"" he said. "Dey goes
long way sometimes. Very few fish this year. Dey kill
them all. No, dey not all fresh, sometimes dey pick up a
dead one, that has been wounded, but has got away.
What did I sail in before? Oh, I carries fruit from
West Indies. The three-masted schooner? Oh, she is
a collier, bring coal from England. No, she don't carry
oil]; they pick up the bones along the shore, carry dem to
Stavanger ; they grind dem up," Our friend showed us
samples of the whalebone, saying it was worth d£'180 a
ton, and that it was used in the manufacture of silk.

The fauna of Spitzbergen, although not very rich in
species, is exceedingly rich in individuals. It includes
fifteen mammals, only two of which are terrestrial — the
reindeer and the ice-fox — besides the usual inhabitant
of the Arctic regions, the polar bear. The number of
reindeer is really puzzling. In a single summer, or rather
in the com-se of a few weeks, no fewer than from 1500
to 2000 reindeer were killed by hunters for several
consecutive years previous to 1868. Much emaciated in
June, they grow very fat towards the end of the autumn,
after feeding on the mosses. Great numbers are
" marked " (that is, have both ears cut at the same
height), and the hunters were persuaded that these
individuals came from an unknown continent in the
north-east, where they had been marked by the hand of
man ; but Sir Martin Conway discredits this notion, and,
indeed, it seems difficult to believe that reindeer could
pass over the hundreds of miles of ocean separating
Spitzbergen from any other land.

298 POOR BALMNA BOOPS

Eight Cetaceans are met with in the seas of Spitzbergen
{BalcBnaptera hoops), 80 to 110 feet long. I do not think
the one we saw was more than 70 feet, judging from the
size of a man alongside ; B. gigas and B. rosirata, 30
feet long ; the white whale (Behiga caladon), two of which
we saw towed in with one big Balcenaptera hoop and
two B, gigas, about 30 and 20 feet long. All hurried
on deck to see this wonderful tow pass ; the tug steaming
slowly along advanced with this long line of dead whales.
One of them had a thing waving about in the air like a
great transparent balloon bigger than the whale itself.
I think we all felt a little sad to see these great un-
protected carcasses float slowly by, blown out to quite an
indecent size, an unmerited contemptuous treatment for
these great harmless mammals. The balloon, I found,
was the air which had entered the tongue. A tube is
inserted from the tug, and the whole is blown full of air
to make it tow more easily.

The setting to this forlorn group was most beautiful.
The sky a soft pale transparent yellow, reflected on the
great Fox Glacier, suffusing it with the same light, leaving
its steep sides in cold blue and purple shadow. The
water of the bay, who can describe it ? The glassy
transparent water had the colour and fire of an opal,
with every here and there upstanding many-coloured
miniature icebergs shaped like strange ice flowers. The
whales were the only Cetaceans we saw, though other
bays in this archipelago are populated with crowds of
walrus and Greenland seals.

Besides the fulmar and glacous gull {Larus glmwus),
or the " burgomaster," of which I have already written,
there are also black guillemots, that drive and scurry
away when the launches come too close, ivory gulls,
kittiwake gulls ; while geese, looms, and snipe swarm on

THE SNOW BUNTING 299

and about the lagoons and small fresh-water ponds.
The bernacle goose is only a bird of passage, as it goes
farther north-east to nest. The eider breeds in large
colonies on the islands, where its young are safe from the
ice-fox, only the glacous gull and the brent goose being
admitted to keep them company, while the lumme and
the tern confine themselves to separate cliffs. These
birds, however, are only guests in Spitzbergen, the snow
bunting being the only species which stay permanently ;
twenty-three species breed regularly on Spitzbergen, and
intermittently four others — the falcon, snow-owl, swan,
and skua.

After a short sleep, we were awakened about half-
past seven by an unusual sound, a sort of lapping, and
looking out of the port we saw that the calm surface of
the bay was alive with a perfect army of fulmar advanc-
ing slowly in line. Each bird seemed to stir the water
with its feet as it advanced, sipping in the waves as
though there were food of some sort in them, — the noise
of such a multitude of creatures feeding was most strange.
One was somehow reminded of the rippling sound made
when the chorus at the Albert Hall turns those countless
pages of music all at once.

When we came on deck we found that the first officer,
who had been with the purser on a shooting trip to Axel
Island whilst we were all asleep, had returned. They had
come upon a camp of some sort, and skeletons of bears
and men were lying on the barren shore. They brought
back a sextant made of oak. A proper sextant, though
rough to look at. It would be quite possible to take an
observation with it, if you knew how much to allow for
the error of the instrument.

What a dismal picture one conjures up of the
deserted camp, and unburied bones suiTounded by

300 THE HEIGHT OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN

great glaciers and stranded ice-floes. Besides the sextant,
the party brought back an arctic tern, a sweetly pretty
little white creature, with sharp-pointed bill and bright
scarlet feet, and some of Richardson''s skua, black-backed
birds with hooked beaks and white breasts.

It seems strange at first to have the sun always in the
sky. We had an argument with some of the passengers
as to how high it was at midnight, and at last the
captain went and fetched his sextant and shot the sun
for us. It turned out to be eleven degrees above the
horizon. There is a sort of rosy tint in the sunlight
most of the time, and the distant snow peaks have
quite a pink glow as they peep up out of the haze, then
the earth is reddish, and the moss that springs up
whenever the snow has melted away has quite a crimson
lake and burnt sienna sort of a tint, so that in spite
of the great blue glaciers the scene is not all cold and
white. The bright scarlet bodies of the poor skinned
whales, which drift by at intervals, also give a touch
of colour, and the transparent glassy tint of the moun-
tains in shadow is most wonderful with an unearthly
beauty all its own.

We were very comfortable all the next day after
leaving Recherche Bay. The mist had enveloped our
surroundings, but the sea was calm. One small fishing-
boat had emerged right in our path, about the time
of daybreak in ordinary latitudes. The air was chilly
and damp, but in the music-room all was comfort and
warmth. One knot of people were busy painting arctic
birds ; another knot, arctic flowers. Some were reading,
others talking of their greenhouses and gardens at
home, being reminded of flower after flower at the mere
sight of one's dish full of flowering mosses. These few
long days at sea made fast friends of many people. All

LATITUDE 80° 24' N. 301

were on the qui vive for the first sight of the pack-ice.
On deck the air was cold, very cold, so that we could
not be far off. First one little scrap, then another of
transparent green ice floated by, then more, little lumps
and hummocks. The ship slowed ; and as she did so
the fog began to lift, and continued lifting as we slowly
forged ahead. The small lumps passed more rapidly
every moment ; then the mist lifted, and right in front
of us was the limitless Ice- Pack reaching away as far as
the eye could see. Only fancy if the Fi-am could have
been coming out of the pack at that moment, there
were we in latitude 80° 24' N., and she came out a little
north of 80° ; but the Siders of Tromso, a whaler, was
the vessel in luck that time. Opening Nansen's
Farthest North at haphazard I came across the passage :
" The world that shall be ! . , . Again and again this
thought comes back to my mind, I gaze far on through
the ages."

" Monday, April 30th. — Drifting northwards. Yester-
day observations gave 80° 42', and to-day 80° 44^'. The
wind steady from the south and south-east." " It is
lovely spring weather. One feels that spring-time must
have come. . . ." Then again, "Every night I am at
home in my dreams, but when the morning breaks I
must again, like Helge, gallop back on the pale horse
by the way of the reddening dawn, not to the joys of
Valhalla, but to the realm of eternal ice." Much
longing, it seems to me, is in the words.

Hummocky ice stood up in all kinds of shapes, the
standing pieces a bright green, with every now and then
a patch stained by either ironstone, or the bed of
some Siberian river. We steamed round the edge of
the pack some four to five hundred yards from it, and
noticed that the ice had a slight pink tinge with trans-

302 PRINCE CHARLESES FORELAND

parent blues and greens against a tender pale sky, the
ice merging into the sky. We turned and headed south,
the low ice dispersing very soon. All, as usual, had been
thought of, and above the first item on the menu at
lunch was July 25th, Ice Pack, Lat. 80° 24,' Long. 4° 50'.

In the afternoon we again sighted Spitzbergen. The
mountains, with the sun shining on the pink snow, came
into view in a long line under a thick grey cloud, which
slowly rose, leaving the most beautiful clear green sky.
All the afternoon the peaks passed in procession great
snowfields and glaciers, while the mountains, hollowed
into basins, were filled with snow, and rising from inside
the basin, round the sides, were ice and snow, like the
beautiful fern patterns that one sees in winter on the
window-pane.

We had a concert in the evening, which lasted till
half-past ten. It was bright daylight still, a lovely
soft yellow light over all. The sea like glass reflected
the soft colour on the surface, and the ripple from the
ship's bow broke in little billows of the most lovely
sapphire blue. A tall girl, with a figure like a goddess,
and a glorious crown of golden hair, was singing. The
voices in the music-room were stilled to listen, as her
clear notes rose higher and higher. All the time the
marvellous ice-peaks of Prince Charles's Foreland were
slowly passing, each one framed by the porthole, trans-
parent and clear, the colour of opals. Those peaks !
those lovely peaks ! and the voice went on, and the
peaks glided by, both leaving an impression that will
never fade.

It was late in the summer when the Vectis, with the
Vecti on board, decided to cross the North Sea to the
coast of Britain. All on board of the ship wondered if
Mgw and Ran, the god and goddess of the sea, and their

THE BELIEFS OF THE VECTI 303

daughters, would show themselves in ugly mood on their
way home. Having cruised all along the fjords of
Norway from Christiania to the polar ice, they had
imbibed many new beliefs, as was natural when visiting
the halls of the dead, and treading the soil held for so
long by the sons of Odin.

The Vecti believed as of old, that those who were
drowned at sea went to Ran ; those who died by weapons
went to Valhalla ; and those who died a natural death in
their beds or chairs went to Hel. What happened to those
who died of the movement of the sea is not known. The
seafaring people worshipped -^gir, for he governed the
sea and wind. Ran, his wife, received well all ship-
wrecked people in her hall at the bottom of the sea,
and had a net with which she caught men who came out
to sea ; drowned men were sure to be welcomed by her.

The Wind and the Fire are the brothers of Mmr.
The Wind is so strong that he moves large oceans, and
stirs up his brother the Fire, ^gir and Ran have nine
beautiful daughters who live in the sea, and the waves
are named after them. These daughters often go three
together, and the winds awake them from their sleep.
They are not partial to men, and are always seen in
storms. All had names emblematic of the waves. They
are called Himingloefa, the Heaven glittering ; Dufa,
the Dove; Blodughadda, the Bloody-haired; Helfring,
the Hurling, or Heaving ; Ud, the Loving ; Hronn, the
Towering; Bylgja, the Billowing, or Swelling; Bara,
the Lashing ; Kolga, the Cooling. ^Egir and Ran were
not to let this mighty vessel go home quietly.

The ship was hardly out of sight of land when the
sky became dark and threatening, the clouds hung low
and moved with great rapidity, the wind kept increasing
in violence, the waves rose higher and higher, and the

304 THE DAUGHTERS OF RAN

North Sea was like a sheet of white foam. The Vectis
rode over the waves as if she were a seagull, and was so
easily steered that the people believed and declared that
she understood the human voice. From the south-west,
the wind shifted suddenly to the north-west, and alternate
gusts of wind and rain followed each other in quick
succession.

" It is good," suddenly exclaimed the Doktor, " that
no man knows his fate beforehand ; his mind is thus free
from anxiety and sorrow." " The day was fine this
morning," answered Thomasson, "but, after all, a day
should be praised at night, a woman after she is buried,
a sword after it is tried, ice when it has been crossed
over, and a voyage after it is ended."

" Those are wise sayings," replied the Doktor ; and as
the Vectis was ploughing her way fast through the waves,
he said to Thomasson, " Tell me of those sea-maidens
who wander over the sea, and pass their lives in doing
harm to many men."

" Those maidens are the daughters of ^Egir and Ran,"
replied Thomasson ; " they are evil-minded, and slay
men ; they are seldom gentle to us seafaring people,
and the wind arouses them from their sleep, and they
look angrily at the ships sailing over the sea."

"Who are the maidens," asked the Doktor again,
" who walk over the reefs, and journey along the fjords
and shores ? These white-hooded women have a hard
bed, and make little stir in calm weather."

Thomasson replied : " These are billows and waves,
daughters of Ran. They lay themselves on skerries ;
their beds are the rocks, and the calm sea stirs them
not ; but lo, when the wind blows hard, it rouses their
anger, and they send the men that are on the deep to
Ran, their mother."

THE COAST OF BRITAIN 305

" I fear," said the Doktor, " by the look of the sky,
that we are going to meet Mgir and Ran and their
daughters erelong in their angry mood."

The wind kept increasing. "The brother of Mgir,
who stirs the ocean," said the foster-brother, " wishes to
see what kind of men are on board of the Vectis ; for, as
thou seest, the sea is becoming mountain high." Then
the Doktor, who was looking at the wake made by the
ship, said to Thomasson, " who are those white-helmeted
maidens that I seem to see yonder? They are dressed
in white, have frowning looks, their breasts heave with
passion, and they are coming fast towards the Vectis.''''

" Those are three of the daughters of Mgir and Ran,
and by their size and fierceness must be Hronn, Bylgja,
and Hefring ; let us beware of them, for their anger is in
their looks ; they are coming rapidly toward us, and I
think they mean us harm."

Thomasson had hardly uttered these words when there
dashed a wave so strongly against the Vectis that it made
her shiver from stem to stern ; it was Hronn, they fancied,
that had come against the ship. Then another wave
followed and hit the great ship on her bows ; it was
Bylgja, Right after Bylgja, in the wink of an eye, came
another wave that swamped the deck of the ship and
flung four men down. The wind shifted, and the ship
was driven toward the dangerous coast of Britain, and
came in sight of a large island with great white cliffs
hanging over the sea. The storm seemed then to be at
its height. " Witchcraft moves the storm," cried
Thomasson, " and we had better sail under the lee of
the island, for we cannot contend with ^gir, nor Ran,
and their daughters."

During the night the storm abated, and towards
morning the Vecti thought they saw nine Valkyrias,
20

3o6 THE THAMES ONCE MORE

helmet-clad and with shining spears, riding in the air
over their ship, and then the storm ceased. " They have
come to protect us and hush the storm ; the decree of
the Nornir in regard to our death is not yet to be
fulfilled."

Entering the mouth of the Thames, they steamed
slowly up, and, arriving at Gravesend, the anchor was
let go, the Vecti returned each to his home with much
spoil in skins, beautiful gold filigree, enamel work, and
many fine embroideries.

INDEX

Aandalsnaes, 178, 179

Abel, Nils, 36

Acropolis, 29

Act, Conscription, 219

Adderoen, 56

Adrian vii., 39

■^gir, 303

^sir, 279

Akershus, 33

Akersvik, 39

Albans, St., 39

Alfax, 279

Alumanniae, Hansa, 114

Amt, 73

Amtmand, 37, 39

Anastasius, 39

Angantyrs, 13, 14, 15

Animals, Wild, 251

Anlestael, 188

Archer, Colin, 48, 50

Arctic Circle, 223

Argonaut, 174

Arne, Bjornson, 86, 180

Arngrim, 13

Art, Museum of, 17

Norwegian, 25

Asgaard, 276

Atlantis, 262

Attenburg, Maria Cornelia, 5 1

Aud, 280

AuflemsQeld, 169, 171

Axel, 64

Baade, Knud, 19
Bach, 29, 30, 80
Bache, Walter, 129
Baedeker, 66
Bakke, 63, 151

307

Bakke-Elv, 152

Balmtaptera boops, 298

Balholm, 154, 160, 161, 166

Bandak, Lake, 52

Bara, 303

Barents, 288

Barnett, J. F., 129

Bastio, Isle of, 7

Bautasten, 57

Bautastenar, 5

Bears, 50, 259

Bele, King, 161, 164

Bennatter, Mr., 57

Bensjordtend, 231

Berg, Magnus Elisen, 18

Bergen, 29, 62, 102, 104, 109, 113,

120, 144, 168

Bishop of, 64

Bergthora, 281, 282, 283

Berlin, 21

Bjorgen, 186

Bjornson, 21, 22, 24, 35, 37, 46, 79,

86, 107, 128, 130, 186, 188, 189,

257
Bjorvik, 33

Callipso, 291

Canal, Nordsjo-Skien, 52

Cape Leigh Smith, 288

Mohn, 288

North, 240

Capellen, Georg, 128
Cappelen, Herman August, 21
Cariole, 146
Carlsruhe, 21, 27
Centaurs, 31

Charles, Prince, 218, 273, 302
Christian in., King, 216
Christian iv., King, 64

3o8

NORWAY AND ITS FJORDS

Christiania, 7, 8, 32, 33, 34, 35, 37.

38, 40, 41 > 44, 45
Christiansand, 53, 55, 56, 257
Christie, Mr. H., 193

Stiftamund, 253

Church, Vor Frelsers, 30

Clubfoot, Baron, 64

Crane, 94

Cratch, Mr. W. D., 262

Colbran, 105

Collet, Frederik, 24

"Confession, The Condemned

Man's," 38
Constantinople, 36
Conway, Sir Martin, 297
Copenhagen, 27, 29, 30
Cottell, Mr. R., 262
"Couple, A Solitary," 20
Court Poet, 278
Cuyp, 17

Dahl, 18, 65, 221

Fru, 164

Johan Christian, 17

Dalen, 17

Dals-Elv, 135

Dannreuther, Edward, 129

Dairies, Co-operative, 157

Death, Black, 36

De Beriot, 105

Deer, 241

De Hooch, 17

Denmark, 39, 56, 64, 73

Devonian Times, 270

Ditten, Wibe, 64

Doktor, 304, 305

Dovre, 155

Dow, Gerard, 17

Drobeck, 7

Dry as adopetala, 291

Du Chaillu, 72, 138, 161, 196,

276.
Dufa, 303
Dusseldorf, 19, 21
Dydril, Thorkel, 92

Earl, 64

East Glacier, 293
Eddas, 278, 279
Edinburgh, 40
Edsvaag, 22

Egdir, 279
Eide, 69, 74, 140
Eider, 265
Eidsvold, 30, 37, 40
Eidsvoldthing, 71
Eidsvoldwark, 38
Einar, 278
Ekeberg, 33
Ekersund, 56
Elfdal, 181
Elgin, Lord, 28
Elk, 260
Elphinstone, 128

Elv, Skiens, 52

Ender, Axel, 24, 184

England, 42, 73

English Fleet, 74

Eozoon, 269

Erik Blodoks, 208, 278

Erika, 36

Erlingsson, Magnus, 215

Espelandfos, 70

Eugenius, 39

Evanger, 135

Everdingen, 17

Exhibition, Jackson, 50

Faio, 62

Faerder-Fyr, 4

Faestningsbrygge, 1 18

Faged, 73

Faleida, 168

Farsund, 56

Fauna of Spitzbergen, 297

Fearnly, 19

Fele, Norwegian, 80

Fenvir, 279

Fikensensand, 63

Fiksensund, 81

Fin, Farm of, 140, 1 42

Finck, Mr., 104

Finland, 246

Finnegaarden, 112

Finneloft, 140, 141

Firdafylke, 167

Fjaerland, 173

Fjalar, 279

Fjeld Finns, 240

Fjord, 4, 44, 141

Aurlands, 145, 154

Bolstad, 135

INDEX

309

Fjord, Bommelo, 60

Bukke, 55

Christiania, 4

Daviks, 168

Drammen, 7

Eid, 71

Eyds, 168

Fjaerlands, 155

Graven, 74, 75

Hardanger, 62, 63, 72

Ilelgeraar, 50

Hundviks, 168

Is, 168, 178

Langesand, 50

Mauranger, 63, 66, 67

• Melanger, 230

Molde, 178, 181

Naero, 140, 144, 145, 152,

154, 167, 170, 289

Nord, 168

Romsdal, 178, 182

Sandesogns, 7

Sogne, 72, 145, 167, 273

Solberg, 230

Sor, 69, 71, 134

Stavanger, 69

Stor, 288

Trondhjem, 148, 246

Ult, 168

Utne, 71

Vaags, 230

Fladager, 30
Fleelith, 283

Fleet, Dano-Norwegian, 217

English, 74

Flora of Spitzbergen, 292

Flydal, Farm of, 177

Flydalsbrae, 177

Flydalshorn, 174

Fokstuen, 181

Folgefond, 63, 65, 66, 69, 70

Folgefondfjeld, 65

Fogderi, 73

Formanskab, 73

Fox Glacier, 289, 293, 298

Fram, 48, 50, 250

Frederick vi., 37

P'redrikshald, 5

Frey, 279

Frich, J. C. G., 19, 33

Friedricks, 19

Friesland, Dutch cruiser, 290

Frithjof, 144
Frognersaeter, 34

Gaad, 45
Gaard, 112, 115
Gaard, Suphelle, 157
Gade, Karl Joans, 37

Niels W., 130

Gaden, Carljohans, 91

Jordenskjolds, 56

Storhammer, 40

Strand, 40

Ganger, 85, 141

Garden, University, 17

Gefle, 181

Geikie, Sir A., 270

Geiranger, 174, 177

Geirason, 278

Gerhard, Marchus, 65

Germany, 56

Gi Sund, 230

Gjerde, 66

Glafin, 278

Glencoe, 180

Glommen, 38, 181

Gloppons, 168

Glosimodt, Olaf Olafsen, 30

Glutton, 260

Gorbitz, Johan, 1 9

Gosse, 120

Grande, 178

Graven, 81

Graveyard, 108

Greenland, 41, 298

Greigh, General, 128

Grieg, Alexander, 128

Edvard, 36, 84, 104,

124, 125, 126, 127, 129,

131. 133

Madame, 125, 126, 127

Grim, 282, 284
Grimstad, 51, 52
Gronsdol, 70
Guarneri, 104
Gude, Hans, 21, 33
Gudebrandsdal, 41
Gudbrandsdalen, 148
Gudvangen, 140, 154
Gulathing, 72
Gundulph, 58
Gunner 282

107,
130.

310

NORWAY AND ITS FJORDS

Haakon, 73, 139, 165, 219, 278

Hafsfjord, 59, 61

Hake, 13

Hakluyt, 253

Halden, 5

Haldor, 99

Hailing, 84

Hallingdal, 35

Hamar, 39, 40

Hammerfest, 248, 249

Hammer Store, 39

Hampstead, Morten, 40

Hanekanob, 76

Hangse, Lensmand C. J., 73

Hansa, 113, 115

Hansen, Carl Sundt, 21, 30

Andr. M., 239

Hanskuld, 283, 284, 285
Harald Fairhair, 278

Haardrada, 21, 214

Haarfagre, 57, 59, 202, 206,

207
Hasvik, 247
Haugen, Hans, 258

Ole, 79

Haugesund, 59
Haven, Astre, 56

Nestre, 56

Heftye, Villa, 34
Heimskringan, 35
Hel, 303
Helfring, 303
Helgi, 282, 284
Hellesaeterbrae, 171
Hempl, 197
Herodotus, 35
Herschel, Sir John, 40
Hertfordshire, 39
Hervard, 14
Hervor, 13, 15, 16
Hestmann, 224
Heyerdahl, Hans, 25, 26
Hildal, 70
Hildalfos, 70
Himingloefa, 303
Hjalmar, 15, 16
Hjorvard, 14
Hoff, Major, 65
Holberg, Ludvig, 36
Holefos, 174
Holmenkolbakken, 35
HolmenkoUen, 32, 34, 35

Holmguist, Mr. P. J., 270
Hop, 124, 134
Horedo, 33
Horgheim, 179
Horland, 64
Hornelen, 168
Hornindalsvand, 168
Hornklof, 278
Hotel, Fletcher's, 140
Hardanger, 69, 71

Sandven, 81

Hronn, 303, 305
Hudiksvalla, 181
Huldreslaater, 81
Hummicky ice, 301
Hurling, 303
Hydalshorn, 177
Hyrning, 88, 97, 100

Ibsen, 189

Henrik, 26, 36, 37, 51

Knud, 51

Ice Age, 63

pack, 301

Idne Samlen, 63
Ilissus, 31
Infanticide, 27
Invik, 168

Island, Frederick Jackson, I49
hie de France, 289, 290
Ivar, the Viking, 138

Jacobsen, Schoolmaster, 22, 23

Jaderen, 57

Jadki, 248

Jagter, 117

Jambadi, 95, 99

Jardalsnut, 151

Jardine, Sir Henry, 40

Jarl, Eirik, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 94,

95. 97,98,99. lOl

Sigvaldi, 89

Jarlsberg-Laurvik, 257

Joachim, 104

Johan, King Carl, 29, 30

Johansen, 49

Jomfru Marias Synaal, 59

Jordal, 70

Jotnar, 34, 276

Jotunheim, 279

Jurassic Times, 27 1

Justedal, 85, 225

INDEX

311

Karmo, 58

Karmosund, 59

Keary, Mr. C. F., 278, 280

Keesa, 53

Ketil Flatnose, 280

Kielland, Alexander, 36, 189

Kingedalsvard, 68

Kingerike, 44

Kjendal, 173

Kjendalsbrae, 171

Kjerulf, Halfdan, 30, 84, 131

Kjondalfos, 70

Kleivafos, 174

Klipfisk, 228

Knivsflaa, 178

Knut, King, 212

Labrador, 9

Laeffler, Martin, 80

Lagaboter, Magnus, 139, 215

Laing, Mr., 141

Lakes, Bandak, 52

La Mara, 128

Lampieri, 105

Land, Franz Joseph's, 49

Landnama-bok, 2S0

Langedal, 134

Langley, 39

Lanshorn, 178

Lapithffi, 31

Lapp, 54, 235, 236, 238, 239, 240,

241, 249
Larus glaucus, 298
Laurvik, 48
Laurwig, 272
Laxvarp, 161

League, Hanseatic, no, in, n3
Lemming, The, 227, 260
Lensmand, 74
Lerchenfeld, Lerche, 64
Lie, Jonas, 27, 106, 189
Lillehammer, 40
Lindemann, 84
Lindisnas, 56
Linncea borealts, 264
Lister, 56
Listermandal, 57
Liszt, 103, 131, 132
Ljonas Aus, 63
Llakhof, 49
Lodge, Richard, 113
Loen, 168, 169, 171, 173

Loendal, 169

Loenvand, 172

Lofjeld, 169

Lofoten Islands, 25, 225, 226

Loithus, 149

Londeman, Edvard, 64

Longen, 41

Lopos String, 149

Lotefos, 70

Loveid, Locks of, 52

Liibeck, 112

Ludwig, 64

Lund, 56

Luther, 37

Lutheran, 37

Lyall, Edna, 160

Lyngen, 234, 235, 247, 248

Lyngso, 62

Maekir, 15

Magnus of Norway, 114
Magnus, Olaus, 262
Magnusson, Eystein, 215

Haakon, 141

Majorstuen, 32

Malibran, Madame, 104, 105

Marchus, Baron, 65

Marconigraph, 251

Maundrapsthing, 72

Mazias, 57

Medaas, 8 1

Melaanfos, 63

Melheimsnib, 171

Menglod, 278

Meridianstdtte, 251

Merok, 169, 174, 175

Metropole, Hotel, 102

Meyer, Johan, 139

Michelsen, Hans, 29, 30, 33

Middelthun, 30

Midstuen, 32

Milford, Mr., 253

Miosen, Lake, 38, 39, 44

Mjolnir, 276

Molde, 24, 184, 185, 186

Mongefos, 181

Mongegjura, 181

Mork, 42

" Morn, The Resurrection," 24

Munarvag, 16

Mundal, 155

Munich, 24, 25

312

NORWAY AND ITS FJORDS

Munthe, Gerhard, 25, 33, 165

Name-fastening, 137

Nansen, 48, 49, 50, 219, 238, 250

Naze, 56

Naenerkout, 50

Naerodals-Elv, 145

Naesdal, 171, 172, 173

Naesodtangen, 8

Nefja, Thorkel, 88

Neolithic man, 274

Nestan, 134

Neuport, Edmund, 36

Nicolaysen, Mr., 5

Nilson, Isak, 81

Nissen, Lie, 36

Njal, Burnt, 281, 282, 283

No Man's Land, 245

Nonsnib, 171, 173, 174

Nordaasvand, 124

Nordfjord, 117

Nordkap, 255

Nordland, 230

Nordraak, Richard, 130, 131

Nordsjo, 52

Nordsjo, Tellemarken, 52

Nornir, 306

Norse, 64, 107

Chief, 13

Pilot, 3

Norseman, A Hardy, 160

Norsk, 85

Norway, 25, 39, 40, 44, 47, 56, 58,

64, 65, 70, 71, 73, 75, 84, 85, 87,

106

flowers of, 263

forest growth of, 257

gods of, 199

natural history of, 252

Norwegian beer, 173

consuls, 218

kings, 191

sheep, 152

timber vessel, 5

Notere, The, 6
Notitia, 199
Novgorod, Nishni, 1 1 1

Obsenfjeld, 73
Odde, 65, 69, 70
Odin, 164, 195, 276, 279
Ofsthus Fos, 82

Oksen Beacon, 73
Oksenfjeld, 74
Oksen Headland, 74
Olaf, Haraldsson, 212

King, 87, 90, 92, 93,

lOI

Kyree, 215

Prince, 34, 119

St., 161, 212

Olden, 168
01s, Thora, 42
Olsen, 66, 112
Oldstatter, Thora, 42
Oscar, King, 218
Oscarsborg, 8
Oscarshal, 19, 20, 23
" Ost, Gammel," 44
Ostade, 17
C3stenso, 63
Ostero, 134
Otteraa, 56

Paris, 25, 27
Painters, 19
Painting, School of, 17
Parthenon, 29, 31
Patti, Adehna, 106
Pepys, Samuel, 1 19
Phidias, 28
Pilot, Norse, 3

— The, 4
Pipervik, 35
Plads, Eidsvolds, 30
Plaidy, 129

Plants, Flowering, 292

Polska, 84, 85

Pontoppidan, 222, 252

Porphyry, 8

Porsgrund, 50

Potter, 17

Promontory, 8

Prose Edda, 195

Powel, Mr., 277

Powell, Sir G. Baden, 250

Quay, German, no
Vaagen, 109

Ramsey, Colonel, iSo
Ran, 302
Ranger, 8
Ratnaeshaugen, 185

100,

INDEX

313

Rauma, 179, 181

Ravenfjeld, 171

Recherche Bay, 2S9, 293, 300

Red Bay, 290

Reinald, Bishop, 57

Reindeer, 260

Rembrandt, 17

Rignavok, 279

Roches Moutonnees, 273

Rochester, Knights' Hall, 58

Rodal, 171

Rodi, 171

Rome, 39

Romsdal, 179, 248

Romsdalhorn, 179, 183, 185

Roraas, 181

Rosenberg, 18, 29

Rosendal, Barons of, 64

Rosenkrantz, 113, 118

Rosenkrone, Baron, 64, 65

«' Rou, The Ballad of," 204

Rover, 62

Rule, Danish, 36

Runakedlo, 74

Runatal, 162

Runic Stone, 74

Russell, Scott, 48

Russia, 246

Ruysdael, 17

Saathorn, 174
Sabine, Sir Ed., 251
Saeter, 42, 47
Saeter, Mork, 42
Saetarsdal, 53, 54, 55, 56
Saga, Fornmanna, loi

Frithjof, 16 1

— — The Halfred, 210

Hervarar, 16

Holmsnega, 280

- — OlaFs, Saint, 13

Olaf Tryggvason's, loi

Skjoldunga, 200

Staurlang's, 200

Sagas, 71, 87, 279
Salundare, 144
Samle Nut, 63
SandeQord, 5
Sandenib, 171
Sandven, 66, 69, 75
Sandwich, Lord, 119
Saxifraga, 291

Schjelderup, 131

School, Norwegian, 25

Schumann, 128

Schweigaard, 30

Scotland, 56

Seiland, Island of, 248

Selmer, ^,6

" Semiramide," 9

Serpent, Long, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92,

93> 94, 96, 97> 98, 99> 100
Serpent, Short, 92, 94
Seven Sisters, 223, 224
Siberia, 49
Siegfried, 277
Siggen, 60

Sigmund, 87, 283, 284
Sigurd, 12

Sinclair, Captain, 180
Sinding, Christian, 25

Otto, 24, 25, 30, 36

• Stephen, 25, 29, 37, 103

"Sisters, The Two," 25

Sivelfos, 151

Skaalebrae, 171

Skaalfjeld, 171

Skagerak, The, 2, 48, 53, 181

Skagevak, 86

Skarphedinn, 282, 283, 284

Skarsfos, 70

Skaw, The, 2

Skeibrok, Mathias, 30

Skien, 51, 52

Skiens-Elv, 50

Skiolld, 284

Skjaeggedal, 68, 70

Skjalden, 144

Skjalgsson, Erling, 88, 89

Skjoldunga Branch, 201

Skougumsaas, 8

Skudesnas, 61

Skuld, 138

Sleipnir, 276

Smidt, Dr., 121

Snorro Sturleson, 213

Sogne, 144, 154

Sognefest, 144

Sogur, J"ornmanna, 87

Sondefos, 67

Soot, Eyolf, 27

Sor, The, 68

Soro, Island of, 248

Sund, 247

314

NORWAY AND ITS FJORDS

Spitzbergen, 288, 292

Spohr, 104

Springdans, 84

Stabbur, 46

Stalheim, 147

Stalheimsfos, 151

Stallari, Kolbjorn, lOO, loi

Staubacks, 181

Stavanger, 57

Stavekirke, 29

Steen, Jan, 17

Steilene, 8

Stemmestad, 8

Stephenson, Robert, 40

Stolkjaerre, 147, 174

Stone, 9

Stone Age, 275

Storfos, 174, 177

Storhammer, 40

Storo, 62

Storsaeterfos, 174

Storthing, 217, 218

Stotte-Harolds, 58

Strandebarms Bugt, 63

Strandsfos, 70

Strauss, Richard, 80

" Strephon," 78, 79, So

Sturlasson, Snorre, 35

Sulen-Oer, 144

Sullivan, Sir Arthur, 129

Sundal, 66, 69

Suphelle, 155, 158

Svafreame, 14

Svarteunt, 70

Svartien, 224, 225

Svein, 87, 88, 89, 90, 93, 94, 95

Svendsen, Johan, 36, 132, 133

Sverdrup, Otto, 250

Svipdag, 278

Svold, Battle of, 87

Sweden, 246

Swithin, St., 58

Synaal, Jomfru Marias, 59

Taylor, Isaac, 197

Franklin, 129

Teddiman, 120

Telemarken, 4, 34, 46, 69, 76, 84

Telemarken, Sydl, 48

Teuton, 175

Thaulow, Fritz, 25, 27

Theatre, National, 37

Theseus, 71, 72, 73
Things, 71, 72, 73
Thingstead, 7
Thingsvoll, 72
Thomasson, 304, 305
Thompson, Captain, 58, 225
Thor, 98, 276, 279
Thorgeir, 88, 1 00
Thorkel, 98, 99
Thorvaldsen, 28, 29, 30
Thursar, 276

Tidemand, Adolf, 20, 21, 33
Tiundaland, View of, 100
Tjeme, 6
Tjoflat, 74
Tokheim, 69
Tokheimfos, 69
Tonsberg, 6
Torenut, 82
Torfisk, 228
Tor Stuen, 185
Torv, Stor, 88
Tostig, King, 214
Triassic, The, 271
Troldhaugen, 126, 134
Trollhatten, 52
Trollhaven, 181
Trolls, 79
Troltinderne, 185
Tromso, 235
Tromso Sund, 230
Trondhjem, 71, 191, 193, 234

Cathedral of, 29, 57, 191

Tryfing, 13, 15

Tryggvason, Olaf, 87, 88, 89, 90,

91.92, 95. 96, 97. 98, 99. 100,

loi. III, 209, 210
Tuscany, Grand Duke of, 105
Tydskalbryggen, 1 00, 113

Ud, 303

Ulf, 92, 93, 100

Ulbriken, 102

Upsal, 39

Urd, 138

Useafot, Thorstein, 99, icx)

Utkjel, 74

Utne, 73

Utrecht, 8

Utsire, 62

Vaagen, III, I18

INDEX

315

Valhalla, 279

Valholl, 276

Valkendorf, Christopher, 115

Valkyrie, 227

Valle, 54, 55

Vande Velde, 117, Il8

Vangsvand, 142

Vapnathing, 72

VardekoUe, 8

Veblungsnas, 180

Vectis, I, 33, 41, 146, 169, 174.

293, 298, 302
Veien, Reiser Wilhelms, 34
Vermeer, 17

Vernandi, 138, 139

Vikin, Men of, 88

Viking, 87, 137, 275

Viking Age, 10, 276

Viking Rolf Ganger, 204

Vikings' ships, 9, 17

Viola haniearnis, 255

"Virgins, Five Foolish," 59

Visnaes, 168, 169

Vnglinga Saga, 13

Volsung Atila, 277

Voluspa, 279

Voss, 121, 138, 140, 143
Vosse-Elv, 136
Vossevangen, 136, 140
Vrangfos, 52, 53

Wagner, 80

Walrus, 50

Wentegel, Gustav, 27

Wentzel, Gustav, 25

Wenzel, 129

Werenskiold, 25, 26, 27

Wergeland, 30

Wessel, Peter, 216

William, Mattieu, 42

Wimmer, 196

Winchester, 58

Woden, 276

Woodmen, 51

Woods, Bergen and Tromso, 256

Yacht, Royal, 154

Yarrell, 294

Yodl, 43

Ytre, 63

Ytre Samlen, 63

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